sv2-audiotest Chapter 9: savethebay1, a x-overs fanfic

Apr 20, 2018

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I will save this city, even if I have to tear the whole thing down and build it up again as my own.

The reoccurring high pitched beep of the heart monitor gave me a soothing white noise in the background as I scratched my pencil across the paper. The nurse had leant me a clipboard and a few sheets of white printer paper. It worked for me.

I had no idea how much time went by before someone opened the door to my room. I glanced up and was slightly startled when I saw my father coming through the door. I set the papers aside, face down.

"How are you doing?" He asked, seeming to wince inwardly. I sighed and scooted further up the bed. I turned to look out the bedside window. That nice thing about what happened, they gave me one of the best rooms in the hospital.

"Doing better. Been trying to clear my head." I answered him.

"Ah. Is that what the, er, drawing is for?"

"Something like that." I reached down and picked up the paper I had been working on. After a moment of hesitation, I didn't find the harm in letting him see it. I held it up to the window. The wide view of the low skyline of downtown Brockton Bay was mimicked almost perfectly on the paper, with far more skill than I had before the 'accident'. Although, there was one key difference between what I drew and the reality of it.

"What is that?" he asked, leaning forward to get a better look.

"It's what I see when I look at Brockton Bay."

In the drawing, there was one building that rose higher than the rest, with a unique curved shape to its overall structure as well as well of the design of the floors. It was the kind of building you might see in a successful city, Vegas in particular in the way I imagined it.

"I don't think I could see anyone building something like that here," Dad said carefully, echoing my thoughts.

"Probably not, it cost millions of dollars." Then again, we there was probably millions of dollars in drugs in the city.

"Tens of millions, more likely," he said. He paused and shook his head. "But it looks really good, Taylor. You should try to make more like it. I bet a lot of people would buy a better view of the city." He gave a wry smile at the end. I gave him a weak smile in return so he didn't feel put off. But it quickly faded from my face.

"So, Taylor," he began slowly. I took a breath, knowing what he was about to ask. "I know I asked you yesterday, and the day before. But you know I got to try."

"I don't… have anything to say about what happened. Not yet."

Dad gave a sad smile. "Alright kiddo, if that's what you want. The, uh, nurses told me that you can be discharged in a two or three hours. Unless you're not feeling up to it."

"No," I answered quickly. The sooner I was out of this hospital the better.

My father smiled a little. "Alright, then I'll go make sure all the paperwork is in order, then I'll come right back. You want anything?"

"No, I'm fine," I responded while shaking my head.

"Alright kiddo, I'll be back." He turned around and walked out of the room. The moment the door closed behind him I let out a tense breath I didn't realize I had been holding. I turned back towards my window, looking past the rooftops of nearby buildings and towards skyline I had sketched. I held up my drawing again.

All the drugs and dirty money in the city wouldn't have enough value to build it. But it would certainly be a start.

When I stepped into our house I was struck with a comfortable familiarity I missed while at the hospital. After some discussion, Dad agreed to drop me off at the house while he went somewhere to pick up some dinner. I needed a little time to myself.

I closed the door behind me and shut my eyes. My power began to force its way into the house. It took a shaky breath and forced myself to calm. It wasn't like the hospital or the school, I had control now.

I let it flow into the walls and floors, spreading out through the entire building and into the foundation. The longer I let my power touch the walls, the more detail I got about the overall structure of the building. Places were the foundation was cracked, water damage in the wood, general ageing. Even a few bugs they had decided to nest in our home.

Carefully, I started repairing all the damage.

I had very limited experience in how I applied it, but I the acts felt natural. Some areas the material was all there, in other places I needed to shift it from other portions of the house to repair it.

Suddenly there were boots on the front porch. I stopped. A knock followed shortly after.

Cautiously, I approached the door and opened it slightly. I paled a little when I saw two PRT Officers standing on the other side.

"Taylor Hebert?" One of them asked, an older man with a grey beard. His partner looked barely twenty, with long hair poking out from under his hat.

"...That's me," I answered, looking them up and down. The Officer nodded and took off his cap.

"I'm Senior Officer Petter and this Officer Norton. We were notified you had been released from the hospital and were wondering if now would be an appropriate time to talk with you and your guardian about the events at Winslow."

"My father isn't here," I answered darkly. That seemed to relax the officer slightly.

"Perhaps that might be better? We understand there are things you would like not to discuss in front of your father. If you'll allow us, we'll speak to you for the time being. We have Miss Militia on video call for you."

I took a deep breath and forced myself to relax a little. I would have to deal with this eventually. Might as well deal with it now.

"Come on in, I guess."

"Thank you very much, Miss Hebert." The officer raised his cap a little and smiled. His partner tipped his hat to me as he passed through.

I led them to the couch in the living room and sat down in my father's armchair. Each officer took a side of the couch.

"I'll start off by saying we offer our sincerest apologies for the event at Winslow," Officer Petter started. "It couldn't have been easy to go through, but we're prepared to offer you some compensation for the stress of those recent events."

"Compensation?" I asked suspiciously. He nodded.

"If you can explain to us in detail what happened at the school that day, we are authorized to offer you an immediate transfer to either Arcadia or Clarendon."

"And if I don't feel up to explaining it?"

"Then we can wait for to be ready. Any time you are willing and able, the offer stands."

I took a breath and rubbed my temples. "What is going to happen to me?"

The officers look at each other for a moment. Officer Norton started to pull out a computer tablet from a small bag I missed when he came in.

"Perhaps it's time we let you talk to Miss Militia?" He suggested. I nodded stiffly.

The screen blinks on and I was immediately faced with the familiar look of Miss Militia. Her eyes wrinkled a little as she offered me a smile from behind her bandana.

"Taylor, it is good to meet you."

"Sure."

"The PRT has completed our investigation of the area, if you are interested in hearing the results."

I braced myself. "What is it?"

"As public as your trigger event ended up being, we discovered only five people knew of your direct involvement with it. They have been spoken to and given a legal warning should they spread that information. For the moment, your identity is completely safe. Which is why I didn't come in person."

I nodded. Relief spread through my chest but I didn't let it show. There was still one more person I was concerned about. "What did you tell my father?"

She paused and took a breath. "We gave him the same story we gave everyone else as per your request. There was a cape related attack at the school, followed by an accidental explosion. He won't know about your powers until you tell him."

"So I'm good? I don't have to worry about villains coming after me?"

"Not at this moment," Miss Militia answered, somewhat hesitant. "But I would stress that if you were to join our Wards program we could provide protection and more."

"Not interested," I said, closing my eyes. "Not now."

She paused and considered that. When I opened my eyes again, she nodded.

"Well, that aside there will still be at least three weeks before the structural damage done to the school is repaired. Of course, as I'm sure the fine officers told you, we are prepared to give you a transfer to another school if you help us straighten out what happened."

I grit my teeth and clenched my hands. There was nothing more I would want than to put this behind me. But the idea of going back to Winslow, feeling Sophia and Emma's stares as I walked through the halls, made me feel sick to my stomach. They would know, even if they couldn't legally say they would know what happened and that I had powers. Which left one way out.

"Could you keep it quite?" I asked.

"Absolutely," she answered immediately.

"Do you have to tell my father?"

"Not if you don't want us to."

I took another deep breath and swallowed. "After this, I want to be left alone."

"Understood, that's all I can ask."

"There are three girls at my school that have been attacking me regularly. Emma Barnes, Sophia Hess, and Madison Clements…"

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Threadmarks 2: The Boat Graveyard

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

Apr 20, 2018

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Structures were a strange thing. In theory, there was no difference between a pile of sawdust and a wooden rocking chair. In practice though, the structure of them is night and day. But I was realizing that they both had structure, just with varying levels of refinement. A pile of sawdust, for example, had very little structure to it. It was a loose and random pile of roughly similar particles. A chair though was a decent bit of structure, being solid planks of wood held together with a couple screws. My ability to manipulate a chair was far, far less than a whole building, but much greater than that of a pile of sawdust.

Given enough time, I could probably work sawdust into a plank of wood in a matter of weeks, giving me more control of it as the structure increased. After that, I might start attempting to turn it into a birdhouse over the course of a couple more weeks. In the end, I could probably finish in just under a two months.

Given that, I made a scale to help me measure it all. Water was zero, having absolutely no structure at all. I wanted to put the Protectorate base as a hundred, but I would have to get in contact with it to really get a feel for that. Instead, I used the hospital I had stayed in as my reference for something with a hundred points of structure. It was large, complex, and sprawling with walkways and storage closets.

I snapped my notebook shut and got off my bed, stretching. True to their word, I hadn't heard another peep from the PRT after the events the other day. I got the papers I would need to transfer to Arcadia, surprising my father. It had been an awkward talk to try and explain how I got them without hurting his feelings. I think he understood in the end, but I couldn't get the hurt expression he wore when he found out I would tell someone else but not him out of my head.

That was going to make this next part even more difficult.

I walked into the kitchen area to find my father sitting at the table with sheets of paper laid out in front of him. He had taken his glasses off and seemed deep into whatever he was doing. I tried to sneak to get out the door, he must have caught the movement out of the corner of his eye.

"Taylor?" He asked, straightening up and putting his glasses back on. "What are you doing?"

"I'm, er, going to the library?" I cursed myself first for lying to my dad, and then again for being bad at it.

"The library?" He asked, confused. He gave this strange look. "What are you going there for."

"I wanted to look at some books on art," I lied again. His eyes widened a fraction before a smiled kindly at me.

"That sounds great, Taylor. Do you need some money for the bus?"

"No, I've got it."

"How long you think you'll be?

"Er, a couple hours?"

"Tell you what, I'll finish filing all these hospital bills and I'll come pick you up around five? Then we can go and get dinner?"

"I-" I stopped myself. As much as it interfered with my plans, I couldn't turn him down. Not after what happened, I owned him at least one dinner together if not more. "Yeah, that sounds great."

He smiled broadly at me. "That sounds great. I'll see you later then, kiddo."

I nodded and turned to walk out the door, my mind already racing.

I had four hours until he was set to pick me up from the library. It was an hour bus ride into the Docks, then a fifteen-minute jog to the Boat Graveyard I need to get to. I guessed maybe thirty minutes there, fifteen-minute jog back. A bus arrives at three, always fifteen minutes or more late, followed by an hour ride to the library. That gave roughly a forty-five minute grace period. Maybe it was pushing it, but this was important.

I climbed onto the bus and, in my thoughts about my father, forgot to pull the reins in on my power. It shot through the whole bus and into the engine. I nearly tripped as all the information assaulted my brain. It wasn't just the shape of things, but also the knowledge of how the weights, shapes, and strengths of those materials were interacting with each other. And when even the engine factored into that, it was enough to give me a mind splitting headache in the seconds before I managed to pull the power back in.

I stumbled into a seat right as the bus was taking off. The world was still spinning around me as I shook off the accidental effect of letting my power loose. It had been worse when I first got my power, it had been an unbearable amount of information assaulting me without warning. With everything from my clothing to nearby buildings and the streets connecting them flooding my mind. It really shouldn't have been a surprise Winslow turned out the way it had.

I bided my time adjusting the engine on the bus while I waited to get to my stop. Funnily enough, I knew next to nothing about engines before I came into contact with the bus. A quirk of my power, supposed.

Slipping into the Boat Graveyard was the easy part, there were hardly any people hanging around this time of day. I spent a quick five minutes looking a ship that fit my needs before discovering a dilapidated shipping vessel. All metal. Perfect.

With a single touch, I discovered a way inside. I trailed my hand on the side, taking in the ship's structure as I tried to decide on how best to make use of it. It was damaged pretty badly, but it was still pretty good as a structure my power could work on.

I found my way inside and started to rummage through my backpack. I found what I was looking for in a few moments, a white sheet of paper slightly crumpled from its time in my bag. Drawn on it was my costume design.

I didn't want to go all out on the costume for a variety of reasons, but chief among them was that I didn't plan on keeping it very long. It was a means to an end, something to give me a bit of protection and conceal my identity while I steal the funds I would need. That said, it still needed to be built very deliberately. My power was about structure, after all.

I took a few moments to committing my designs to memory. With any luck, the final product would look like something akin to power armour. The metal would be raised several inches away from my skin through a series internal supports. In addition, the surface would be made of hundreds of small diamond and triangle shapes coming together to create sloped armour from whatever angle it was hit at. I didn't put much thought into a mask past its structural integrity. The result was a pointed oval shape with eye slits and nothing else.

I set the paper aside and closed my eyes before placing my hands on the wall of the ship. Immediately, the structure began to twist and bend. As it began to warp from a simple wall, I felt my influence lessen as it became less structured.

I frowned and started pulling more metal from the rusted engine block of the ship. I started creating more detail on the shape on the armour. But it didn't help with the difficulty I was experiencing when changing the wall of the ship into armour.

I broke away from the wall and found myself breathing heavily. I hadn't even noticed I was holding my breath in my concentration. Taking a moment to steady my breathing, I observed what I had gotten done so far.

Extending about an inch away from the wall was the vague outline of what I was picturing. I would need at least another hour to finish with the general shape, then probably another hour on top of that to get the outer and internal structures how I wanted them. But that would be an issue for another night. For now, I had to get going or I was going to be in serious trouble.

I left the ship and started jogging back towards the bus stop. After the jog over here, I was beginning to realize I might not have been in the best of shape. It made me want to consider taking up jogging, just to trim the pounds if nothing else.

It was then I noticed someone lurking in the corner of my vision, interrupting my thoughts.

Without changing pace, I let my power flow into the street beneath me and fought to keep it focused. Using my power on something as expansive as a road and sidewalk was an easy way to get hit with an overload of information.

I went two blocks before I decided the person was definitely following me. They were keeping pace from a distance, and crossing the street when I did. When I turned a corner, they followed. I frowned.

I went one more block to take us into an area without any people in it. A street that was more like an alley. No windows and only back doors out of buildings. Then I stopped and stood still. Immediately my tail did the same. I waited for a few seconds to pass, then I fused the person's shoes into the sidewalk.

I turned around and started walking back towards the person who was following me. It was a man wearing blue jeans and a denim jacket. All too clean to live around here. His eyes widened as I approached. I took some amusement in the brief seconds he attempted to turn around. He paled when he realized what had happened.

I had taken a gamble, trapping him and approaching like this, but it paid off when I saw him draw a PRT issued taser and pointed it at me.

"Miss Hebert," he said quietly, now that I was only a few feet from him. "I am PRT officer and if you do not let me go you will be charged."

I cocked my head at him. I should have been a little more worried, but right now I was annoyed.

"You're not going to shoot me. And you're not going to charge me with anything." I told him. A surprised look crossed his face, followed by uncertainty. Then he lowered his gun. I smirked. They wanted me in the Wards and seemed to know shooting me with a taser wasn't a great way to make that happen.

Too bad they didn't seem to realize sending someone to stalk me wasn't much better.

"Why were you following me?" I asked evenly.

"It is only natural for a person to want to use their powers," the man explained calmly. "The Boat Graveyard is one of the most common places for recent triggers to attempt to test their powers." the man looked me in the eye seriously for a moment, trying to communicate something I wasn't picking up on. "Miss Hebert, I miss urge you to join the Wards if you want to test your power any further. It is the only safe option for someone of your age group."

I took a deep breath and let out a sigh. "You have five dollars?"

The man blinked. "Er, yes? Why?"

I stuck my hand out. "Because you followed me here, you can at least pay for my bus ticket back." He looked at me with wide eyes for a moment, then reached into his pocket. He took out five one dollar bills and place them in my palm. I resisted the urge to smile.

"Tell the PRT to stop following me," I ordered. "If I catch someone following me a second time we are going to have some serious problems." I spun on my heel and started to walk away.

"Hey!" He called after me. "What about my shoes?"

"Go barefoot!" I shouted back.

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Threadmarks 3: Not in my House

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

Apr 20, 2018

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The Boat Graveyard was much different at night than it was in the morning. Getting there, for one thing, was much more nerve-racking with all the Merchants and homeless crawling around. I more or less got to keep to myself, but at least one man attempted to sell me something I was sure wasn't sugar.

I found myself in front of my incomplete project about half-past eleven. A little later than I wanted to be here, but it would have to do. I placed my hands on the wall and got to work.

For the first twenty minutes I only had eyes for my armour, but slowly I started expanding my sight while not stopping with the building of the armour. Multitasking was something I was beginning to learn I could do quite while when I knew what kind of information to expect.

The concrete foundation of the Boat Graveyard had a decent amount of structure to it, but in most cases the concrete was underneath mud and muck built up over the years since the area had been drained. Dirt and mud might as well have had no structure to it, stopping me from being able to feel people walking across the top of it.

Tentatively, I pushed past the edge of the Boat Graveyard and into the streets, the farthest I've gone since Winslow. I went slowly to allow myself time to adjust to all the information, I was able to pick up the people walking across the streets. I stopped when I got to the first building. I was getting incredible amounts of information now, in part because the range of my power tending to spread in a round shape when it wasn't being contained in a single structure like a ship or building. It was trying to go into the water now, the ever turbulent and moving water. Try to look at that like of structure was like looking at a television with white noise on. Just chaos you can't make sense of.

I snapped my view back to my suit of armour right as I was in the process of separating it from the wall. It would need to zero in on the minor details of the suit if I wanted to get them right.

Now that it was its own separate entity, the suit had more structure than when it was part of the wall. That let me change things about it much faster than before, combined with the speed at which I could do minor changes and there was a lot of visible change that could be seen. What used to be smooth face shells became multi-faceted. Joints became smoother, more perfectly round. The internal supports were strengthen and shaped more efficiently. Minor changes adding to one large design.

Ten minutes short of an hour I was finished. Just as the structure level was reaching a point where I could feel the individual metals and materials involved in making the steel. That gave me a bit of pause. Even in the hospital, which I labelled a hundred points on the scale I tried to make, I hadn't gotten a feel for the individual materials in a structure. And I was willing to bet, given enough time to work the suit, I would be able to start manipulating the internal materials on top of being able to feel them.

I shook my head. That was an issue that would require a lot more power testing and probably more than a few things written down. Right now I had my completed suit of armour and a city to purchase. Albeit, with a few more steps in between them.

With a touch of my hand, the back of the suit opened up, the movement incorporated into the structure. On the inside was a smaller framework I stepped into. Sticking my hands into armholes, I found the metal handles at the end and latched on. Closing the back of the suit behind me, I realize I had put the eye holes a little too high. A minor detail, but an important thing to consider in the future for designing things. Small incorrect things like that could accumulate in something larger.

I was losing focus again.

Carefully, I raised the hand of the suit using my power. The suit itself was far too large for me to move on my own strength, which was part of the reason it had to be so structured. The suit had to be three times as large as I was and moving entirely based on how I willed it to move.

I took a step forward and nearly fell over. The only reason I didn't was because I still had to move my legs with the motion while inside the frame. That helped me a little when wrapping my mind around the motion.

Even more carefully, I took a step. It was still shaky, but at least I didn't fall. I just had to get the hang of it.

With all the grace of a drunk elephant, I tore open the now much thinner sides of the ship and stepped out into the night. I might have underestimated how loud ripping open a hole like that was going to be. People started emerging from under old ships, looking for what the screech and scraping of metal was. I was glad for the mask because I actually felt embarrassed for a moment.

As soon as they saw the seven to eight-foot lumbering figure taking awkward steps forward they were gone. Not even a hesitation, they saw me and ran like their lives depended on it.

Well, that's Brockton Bay for you.

It was two in the morning by the time I finally came home. The travel was difficult for a variety of reasons. Not the least I only felt like I was actually getting better at the walking when I was a block away from my house. And the suit being as loud as it was made being stealthy near impossible.

I guess it really wasn't the suit that was loud though, I made sure it didn't make any noise just by moving. But every step echoed off the road, and every breath I made seemed to reverberate inside my helmet.

As quietly as I could, I opened the back gate into our yard and felt thankful that the dead grass padded my footsteps. Taking a position next to where we kept all the lawn equipment we never used, I started to change the suit. I widen the area the held the arm joints and pulled its arms into the suit, shortly followed by the legs. It made climbing out of the suit awkward, but still possible. Once out, I removed the helmet and stored it in the chest cavity with the arms and legs of the suit. The final product was about as big as a large lawnmower. I threw a tarp over it and called it good.

Phase one of the plan was complete. I got myself a costume.

I snuck my way towards the house, suddenly thankful I could use my own legs to walk now. Like roller skating for an hour and taking your first steps off them. Using my power to improve it to the point of silence, I slipped through the back door and stepped into the house.

I had a moment to catch my breath before a light knock on the front door startled me. I rubbed my eyes as I started to feel the lateness set in before I tread towards the door. I put my hand on the door handle and let my power spread out to the front porch. Two sets of shoes. One larger and one smaller.

I cracked the door open slightly and paled at the sight of Battery and Assault.

"I told you people not to follow me anymore."

"Technically, you told the PRT that," Assault countered. Battery smacked him on the back of the head without even breaking eye contact.

"Ignore him, and we didn't follow you," Battery stated. "We received a report of a monsterous metal cape down at the Boat Graveyard. We made a guess on who."

I took a deep breath and let out a sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "You need to get better a guessing then. Now leave."

The two look at each other a moment before looking back at me.

"Taylor," Battery said carefully. "Your identity might be shielded from the public, but the PRT still knows who you are. Legally, we have to respond to anything relating to you."

"That's great," I answered dryly. "But like I said, the metal monster wasn't me."

"So you're telling us if we went into your house right, now we wouldn't find a giant suit of metal armour?" Assault asked, matching my tone.

"That is exactly what I am saying," I answered evenly. He looked genuinely shocked at that.

"So may we come in, then?" Battery asked.

"No, you may not. So I'll say it one more time. Leave me alone."

They looked at each other again. Assault held up his hands in a helpless gesture. Battery turned back to me and took a deep breath.

"Alright Taylor. But just two more things. First, I've been ordered to let you know if you use your power irresponsibly the PRT will not protect you."

"What exactly are you suggesting I'm going to do?"

"Nothing!" Battery stressed. "Just passing the word along." She relaxed a little and continued. "They also wanted me to tell you that the three girls you described in your report have been expelled from Winslow Academy."

I crossed my arms and said nothing, giving her a hard stare. Suddenly she looked uncertain.

"And, er, one of them, Sophia Hess, is being sent to juvenile detention for her actions."

"Great," I said, doing my best to not sound bitter. "Even better if you did that months ago. Is that everything? I would kind of like to get back to bed."

"Er, yes, Taylor. I… Thank you for your time."

I nodded stiffly, closed the door, and locked it. The moment they were out of sight my heart beat exploded into motion as the weight of that conversation set in.

On the other side of the door, I heard Assault speaking.

"I have never been made so uncomfortable by a sixteen-year-old girl."

"Phrasing," Battery warned. "But yeah, that was…"

I didn't catch the last bit the said as they walked out of earshot, but it didn't stop me from smiling to myself and suppressing a laugh. Even as my heart thundered in my chest at how crazy that whole conversation seemed to me I was smiling.

I turned and walked towards my room. Progress was slow, but I was steadily making my way towards fixing this city. And a little thing called the fourth amendment may have just saved me from falling off that path too early. Soon, things were going to change.

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Threadmarks 4: The Deal

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

Apr 20, 2018

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With each step, I soften the ground just before I stepped on it. It made the heavy footfalls of my suit slightly muffled. Enough that they won't hear me coming a block away. And that suited me just fine.

Over the course of a week, I had managed to get the hang of making the suit walk using my power. Running was still tricky, but thankfully I have not needed to do that just yet.

I slipped behind the building I was targeting. I could feel that there was only one other person in the alleyway, someone laying on their side behind a dumpster. A homeless person, most likely. Well, whoever they are, they were about to get a show.

I pressed the massive metal hand of my suit to the face of the wall, giving me a direct connection to the building. Thirty-one people on the first floor, five people on the second, the stairs to the third floor were collapsed. Perfect. I wouldn't have to go chasing for anyone.

I weakened the structure of the outer wall I was touching, which was much easier and faster than trying to improve a structure. In a couple of seconds, I had it the way I liked it. Then I stepped through the wall.

I ripped through it to find myself inside of an abandoned office space. The kind of open floor plan where they would have put up rows and rows of cubicles. Instead, the Merchants had put up a few dozen fold-out tables where different dealers stacked up their product to sell. Everyone else was here to buy.

The screaming didn't start until I was two full steps through the wall, all those drugs probably making them slow to respond. As I have discovered from the last three places I struck, this usually went down in roughly the same order. The druggies would stampede for the exits, hurt themselves in the process. The five or six gunmen would shoot at me, only for my armour to either deflect or merely dent under their gunfire. Then they run.

True to form, the druggies started running away. But this time, surprising me for a moment, even the normally armed dealers started running. Some of them trying to grab their products from the tables before running away.

I strode forward, covering an incredible distance with just a few strides thanks to the long legs on my suit. A second later, I put my fist through a table where one braver man was shoving product into a bag. He reeled backwards, tripping on the remains of a broken chair and falling flat on his back. I reached forward and pinched his shirt in between my fingers.

"Christ alive!" The man shouted. "Who the bloody hell are you?"

"I'm not important," I stated, my voice echoing and reverberating inside the suit's metal and making it sound deeper. "I'm just here to collect. Now tell me, how badly do you want to get out of here on harmed?"

The dealer swallowed. "V-very badly."

"Good, then I'll make a deal with you. I want you to collect all the money and drugs in this building and bring them to me. Do that, and I'll let you leave. Try and run and I'll put you through the wall. Understood?"

The man nodded nervously and I released my grip on him. Immediately, he started scrambling to finish his task. I turned my attention upward.

The five men were moving, having all previously been in the same room. I can only assume their hesitation was them getting their guns and getting ready. I took five steps to the right, startling the man collecting things for me. But now I was underneath the only hallway to the stairs they could use right as they charged down it. I waited until the very last one was passing by before I punched straight through the ceiling and grabbed the man's leg. I weakened the ceiling around were I punched even more before I pulled the man through it.

"Oh God!" He screamed. I cut him off before he could say anything else.

"God won't help you here," I stated. "But cash might."

"I-I-I- What? What do you want from me?"

"Idiot, I want your money." I shook him a little to try and get the message through. Suddenly I felt a few bullets sparked against the back of my suit. I turned to look at the three men that just shot at me, still holding their partner upside down by his leg.

"I want all the drug money in this building, you understand me?" I shouted. "Bring it to me or I start breaking kneecaps."

I probably wouldn't have actually broken their knees, but it seemed to spur them into motion. Besides, I didn't need to give the PRT any more reason to be looking into me.

I laid the man on the floor and told him not to move before going to stand in the centre of the floor. The last three times it took anywhere from fifteen to twenty minutes for the PRT to dispatch officers to the location, faster the closer I was to better off areas. I haven't had to deal with any capes yet, but with my growing reputation, it was only a matter of time. They stopped coming to my house, at least.

After ten minutes of adjusting the building for a quick escape, the first dealer I approached tentatively walked up to me.

"Er, Collector, sir, ma'am, whoever you are. I've, ah, got all the stuff."

I looked over at his pile. It was a loose assortment of bags of cocaine, weed, and meth. No heroin, strangely. For whatever reason, that was more popular around here so it was strange to not see it included. Next to it was a collection of small bills piled on the floor, six hundred dollars if I had to guess.

"Good, you can go." I waved dismissively. He immediately darted for the door like his life depended on it. I smiled inside my suit as I started scooping up the drugs and cash in one hand. I opened up a hole in the free palm and poured the stuff into it the best I could with the thick metal hands. I was really enjoying the free space inside my suit.

"Hey, Collector!" I turned around to see the men from before approaching me nervously with duffle bags. "Here is everything in the building. Can we have Doug back now?"

I looked them up and down for a moment. I lifted a leg before suddenly dropping the heavy metal shoe off my suit.

"Empty the bags into the shoe," I ordered.

"Into the… shoe?"

"Did I stutter?"

They immediately fell silent and start doing what I ordered. I got the impression the dealt with types like me every other day. Probably used a lot of the same lines too. 'Did I stutter' 'break your kneecaps' 'I'll make you a deal'. A little cliche, sure, but they were cliche for a reason. They worked remarkably well when you could give them real weight.

As soon as they were done I reconnected the shoe to my armour and nodded to them. They took that as their signal and grabbed their friend before darting out the door. I turned for the far wall and headed towards it. My first night out taught me to never go out the same way you came in. Rigged explosives prove to be good teachers.

After fleeing the building, and hid myself in a nearby building where I could still see the place I had attacked. Twenty-seven minutes to respond in this area. I took note. Almost half an hour to respond to a cape attack in this area, that was very pitiful for the PRT. No capes on the scene either. Interesting.

I pulled out a disposable phone I had purchased beforehand and made a call. I moved it outside my suit so the echo effect would be maintained.

"Hello, this is Medhall Pharmaceuticals twenty-four hour call line," A female voice answered, sounding tired. "Can you describe the nature of your call?"

"This is The Collector," I stated. "Let your bosses know I'm looking to do business with them on behalf of my employer. I'll be in the abandoned factory on the corner of 32nd and Louse in two hours from now. Bring no more than two people and be prepared to negotiate a deal."

I hung up the phone before she could respond. I dropped it to the ground and crushed it under my foot. I didn't have any reason to think they could use the phone to track me, but I wasn't taking the chance.

I turned in the direction of the factory and got walking.

I had put the last money stacks on the pile when I felt two people walking up the steps of the building. I willed the doors open right as they reached them. There was a pause before they came inside.

I paled a little when I saw both the Kaiser and Hookwolf coming into the building. Where I was standing, I had about half the cash I had accrued and near all of the cocain I had stolen. Close to ten thousand thousand dollars in drug money and unbelievable amounts of drugs. Enough I felt uncomfortable having them all in the same place.

"Collector," the Kaiser said, stopping twenty feet from me. Hookwolf flexed his fingers carefully. "I should warn you in the future to give people at least a day's warning before asking them to come to the table for a deal. Especially when we have no idea exactly what that deal entails."

"My apologies," I stated. "But my employer was quite insistent that the deal happening as soon as possible."

"And might I inquire as to who this employer of yours is."

"You may not," I stated. "She wishes to remain in the dark for now, but rest assured. You will hear of her soon enough."

"I see," the Kaiser said simply. I narrowed my eyes at him as I felt something strange going on with the edges of my suit. Very, very small blades were growing on them. A test, to see if his power worked on my suit.

"I'll call my rudeness even if you stop using your power on my suit," I stated seriously. Immediately, the blades stopped growing and I brought them back into my suit. I saw his mouth open slightly in shock before he recovered himself.

"My apologize, Collector. Please, let us get to the business you would like to discuss. I presume it has something to do with the stacks of money and drugs behind you?"

"Correct," I said with a nod. "Here is ten thousand dollars in drug money, and more than a hundred bags of cocaine. Each one about half of what I have in total, in addition to a wider assortment of drugs I have stolen over the last week from The Merchants. As I'm sure you are aware."

"True," the Kaiser said. "Your reputation precedes you, and you've had a busy first week."

"Then you know I have more than this, and possibly more on the way. I'm looking for someone to clean the money and purchase the drugs. I have been ordered to make a deal with you."

"Interesting proposal. Normally, we charge fifteen percent to clean money in that nature. However, you are a very high profile cape at the moment, creating more risk for us. So the price will be raised to twenty percent. On top of that, all this cash comes from another gang in the city which brings along its own risk. Thirty percent is what I am afraid the final cleaning cost would be for all of this. And as for the drugs you have, all those risks factors plus the risk of the product itself. Forty percent of the profits of those drugs will have to go to us."

"Hmm," I said, looking him up and down. "Thirty percent of my cash and forty of the drugs. You must think I'm stupid."

"It is unfortunate," the Kaiser stated, "With all the risk factors at play here, it is what I will have to charge you."

"Here's a counteroffer," I gestured to the stacks behind me. "In total, I have somewhere around three hundred bags of the cocaine, five hundred bags of weed, and similar numbers for meth and heroin. I'll give you thirty percent of the product for free, and in return you'll process my cash and purchase the remaining product."

"Intriguing," Kaiser stated carefully. "But that will not reimburse me for my trouble sufficiently enough. Perhaps at forty percent of your product and we can come to an agreement?"

I frowned and tapped the metal fingers on the side of my suit.

"Thirty percent of the product, five percent of the cash, five percent of the money you seel the drugs for."

"Thirty percent of the product, ten percent of the cash we'll clean. Anything lower and I'm afraid I'll have to walk away."

I took a deep breath and sighed. "Deal. Now, how do you normally handle these transactions."

"Quite simply," Kaiser said happily. "Tomorrow, this time, you'll meet some of my men here with half of your product and cash. You'll be shown the full total of your cash in exchange for the location of the other half of your product and dirty money. Once we confirm its location, the money will be handed to you and we'll go our separate ways."

"No tricks?"

"You find the Empire has a built up goodwill with these kinds of transactions. A personal policy that makes us the better choice than the ABB, I never try and cheat you after the deal is made. So, we do have a deal?"

He stuck out a hand and took five steps forward. I nodded and met him halfway, taking his tiny arm in my metal hand and shaking it. He was tense, but relaxed when I let go.

"I look forward to more profitable ventures in the future."

A/N: If you like where this is headed, consider messaging me about being a beta for future chapters.

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Threadmarks 5: First Recruit

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

Apr 26, 2018

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#11

I dropped a wad of cash on the table in front of my father while he was raising a spoon of cereal to his mouth. He blinked, set down the spoon, and then just looked at it like it was some alien thing. After a moment, I started to speak.

"Dad, I need your help with some things."

That seemed to shake him from whatever was going through his mind. He looked up at me and a concerned look passed across his face as he carefully picked up the stack of bills. The stack was made of twenties, meaning it only had two thousand dollars compared to the thirty-one thousand I walked away with at the end of the night. But it was two thousand clean bills, both literally and legally, that I didn't have two weeks ago.

"You need my help… with this stack of cash?" My Dad asked confused. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"No, well, yes in a sense. I'm under sixteen years old, so I need you to cosign anything I would like to spend that on."

"Okay, back it up." Dad stood up and raised the cash. "First of all, where did this come from? Second of all, what are you buying you need a cosign for? And third of all… Anything else you think might be important to why you just dropped thousands of dollars in front of me!"

I took a deep breath and calmly began to explain from the beginning, just as I rehearsed. My father began to pace back and forth not long into the story. About the time I described attacking Merchant places, he was chewing on the tip of his thumb.

I had been calm and collected when I started, but watching him slowly get progressively more upset like that was unnerving me. Like I was standing two feet away from a pressure cooker that was rigged to explode if it got to be too much.

When I finished he stopped pacing and leaned his weight into the table. He took a few deep breaths and calmed himself.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked forcefully. "You've had powers for almost two weeks now. You've been sneaking out of the house, attacking people, making deals with neo-nazis. Taylor do you have any idea how much danger you've put yourself in?"

"Yes," I answered quietly, suddenly unwilling to meet his eyes. "I've been shot at. Blow up at least once. Dealt with the PRT multiple times. I think I have gotten a good idea how dangerous this all is."

"Christ Taylor," Dad said, running a hand through his hair. "You say it all so casually. This isn't the kind of stuff a young girl like should be getting into. And what about the bullying, you still haven't told me about that." He looked up and made eye contact with me. He expression some middle ground between concerned and angry. "I've tried to be patient Taylor, let you come around on your own. But you told complete strangers about it, but not me. Next thing I know, you're accepted into Arcadia, you're sneaking out at night, and your beating up drug dealers like- like-" He waved his hand in the air, unable to find the word he was looking for.

"You picked a hell of a time to drop this on me, kiddo," Dad said with a defeated sigh. He took his glasses off and cleaned them with his shirt before replacing them on his face. He glanced at the oven clock and shook his head. "Until the school's and the PRT's payment go through, those hospital bills are on my credit. You start school in just a couple days, and I just got told I need to cut more than a hundred jobs. The union's going to have a fit and now I'm late for work."

He gestured to the money on the table with an open palm and hesitated in what he was about to say.

"Look, we'll talk about this whole… debacle when I get home tonight. And I want you here when I get back. No going out, no beating up drug dealers, nothing. Just… be ready to explain everything to me again because I'm still trying to wrap my head around it all."

"Alright," I said, a little bit of guilt leaking into my voice. "But, er, one more thing."

"Yes?"

"If there is still a hiring problem around the Docks I think I can help. Once I buy the property I'm hoping for, I'll need some guys to bring in some raw material and some other work. If you think that will work…?"

He looked at me silently for a long moment then tentatively asked,

"You have a plan, right?"

I smiled. "Of course."

He took one more deep breath and shook his head. "Okay. I'll… Why do you go down to the library while I'm at work and print out the properties you're looking at. I'm not saying yes, so far from saying yes, but I can look. And you better be here when I get back and ready to explain yourself or there will be house arrest for you." He looked at the clock again. "Christ, I need to get going. Stay out of trouble."

"I will, Dad."

He grabbed his stuff and hurried out the door without another word. As soon as the door shut behind him I practically leapt out of my chair and ran to grab my notebook and backpack. I had some research to do.

Hours later, I couldn't help but be a little nervous as Dad silently looked over the papers I had printed out at the library not that long ago. His hard expression didn't offer me any clues as to what it was he thinking.

I had started to pull on the frayed ends of the couch cushion nervously around the time he finally spoke again.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do with your power, Taylor?" He didn't look away from the papers, or even change expression. Just kept staring hard at what I had given him.

"Yes," I answered in a low tone.

"I can't convince you to join the Wards or find some other hero group?"

"No."

He sighed and set the stack of papers aside for a moment. He took off his glasses and cleaned them with the end of his shirt. After replacing them on his face, he looked at me seriously.

"And you're sure about your plan? With all these legal things you're going to throw into the PRT, you do realize you'll be making an enemy of everyone right? Empire, ABB, PRT, Merchants, and whoever else?"

"I'm sure," I answered with a nod.

"And you know once you buy this building and start fixing it up the ABB will feel threatened. They'll come for us, either for a cut of the profits, or to tax you, or even to break the building. You think 'The Collector' can handle that?"

"I will."

"Alright then," he stated with a sigh. "The apartment complex was public housing at some point, so I'll have to find the papers for it at work tomorrow. Then it will be a couple days before I can talk to someone about purchasing the building. And however long it will take to process that paperwork. As well as an speaking to an attorney just to make sure you understood these laws correctly. But yeah, we can do this. But Taylor." He looked at me seriously, a frown etched into his face.

"Yes?" I asked carefully, unsure of what he was going to say next.

"I have two rules going forward. First, keep me informed. I want to know what you've got going on, especially if it puts you in danger. Secondly, you start school on Monday. I expect you to be passing your classes, alright?"

I smiled widely at him and nodded. "Deal."

He smiled back.

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Threadmarks 6: School

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

Apr 26, 2018

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#12

I walked into the office of Arcadia feeling a touch apprehensive. If for nothing else, then the fact that my father would be attempting to purchase the apartment building I had selected today of all days. I could be the owner of a whole apartment complex for hours before I knew. Already, the ideas and opportunities of having a whole building for myself were festering in the back of my mind.

But it would all have to wait while I slogged through my first day of school.

"Taylor Hebert," I said to the lady behind the front desk as soon I I stepped up to it. She looked up from her work, looking over her glasses. "I'm starting today. I was supposed to come here to get some sort of orientation."

The secretary blinked before realizing who I was. Immediately, her blank look shifted to a wide smile.

"Oh, of course." She got out of her seat and walked around her desk. "Right this way, we have another new student starting today but she's running a bit late." The secretary led me down a short hallway and opened the door into what looked like a break room of some sort. Complete with two vending machines.

"We'll have you wait in here if you don't mind so the other girl has time to get here. Is that alright?"

"Yeah," I answered, not really caring. I was already lost looking at the whole school building.

It was impressive as far as things went. Two four-story buildings connected by a centrepiece. Visually, it was in pretty good shape. Anything anyone could see was patched and polished. But underneath it was just like the rest of the city. Old, cracking, and slowly breaking apart. For every big problem, I saw I would see a patch and no fix. Even the wiring and piping in the building was more tape at this point than actual wire and pipe.

I fixed the one support beam that was starting to buckle and called it good. I could spend weeks trying to repair every small thing in the building, so instead I decided to be satisfied the roof isn't going to come down on me the next time there is a harsh wind.

"Taylor."

The voice jostled me from my thoughts. I had been staring at the floor for however long it had been since I sat down. I looked up, expecting to the see the secretary again. Instead, I found myself face to face with Emma.

I was on my feet in a moment, alarmed. Emma took several steps back, glaring at me darkly.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked through gritted teeth. Emma seemed to measure her response for a moment.

"Just where the hell did you think I was going to go after you got me kicked out of Winslow?" She asked sourly.

"Literally anywhere else," I hissed back. I took a step towards her. She took a step back. "How did you even get past the waiting list?"

"My dad pulled strings. Why do you even care? Are you so sensitive that just me being h-"

"Fuck you Emma!" She recoiled back as the room shook with my temper. I took a breath and willed myself to calm down. Once I had reigned that part of me in, and started speaking very slowly and carefully.

"I won't let this become Winslow, I'm not doing that again. So you stay away from me."

I was expecting some sort of sharp comeback. Maybe something that seemed surface level but cut deeper by needling something from Winslow. Some sort of hostile reaction from her. But instead, the sour look on her face washed away and she paled. She swallowed once and nodded.

"I… okay."

Taken aback by her reaction I stepped away, keeping a careful eye on her. She refused to meet my eye, looking down at the floor silently.

Before either of us could say anything else, the door opened and suddenly a strange happy feeling spread through my chest.

"Hey there," A cheerful voice said. I turned and was caught off guard by the sight of Victoria Dallon. I had only seen photos of her in her casual clothing and never paid too much attention to them much anyway. That played into the surrealness of seeing her walking towards me and Emma wearing a blue jean jacket over a low cut top perhaps a little too small for her.

Coming into the room behind her was a small procession of two other guys and one more girl. While both of the guys were tall, the first one was more muscular. He had light brown skin and hair grown longer than most guys would. The guy just behind him had his hair cut short and the kind of face that seemed the type to get him labelled as 'that pretty boy' or something similar.

I found the last one more interesting. While Victoria and the two guys were large, all three of them tall, she was shorter. Instead of coming in with a smile and looking at me, she came in last and looked away. She had a curly brown hair and a light brush of freckles across the bridge of her nose. The way her attempt to go unnoticed made her more noticeable compared to the other three made my gaze linger on her unintentionally. She peaked my interest.

I didn't even realize I was staring at Amy Dallon until Victoria suddenly drew my attention back to her.

"Emma? Taylor?" She asked with a wide smile on her face. "They asked us to show you guys around. You two cool with that?"

Unsure of what to say and completely caught off guard by the tone shift she brought with her, I just nodded. Emma did much of the same.

"Ignore Victoria, she's getting ahead of herself," the second guy said, pushing forward. He held out a hand to me. Cautiously, I took it. "I'm Dean. And over there is Carlos." Carlos gave a small smile and mock salute. "And then there is Amy, Victoria's sister."

She glanced towards us and gave a little wave before looking away again.

Dean shifted to shake Emma's hand, who took it much more eagerly than I did. Whatever effect I had on her before they all came into the room was gone. Replaced with a grin to match the others.

"Emma, nice to meet you." She greeted with a happy nod. Dean returned the nod and then looked between us.

"The school asked us to show you where all your classes are going to be and what not. Are you two ready to get started?"

"Yes," Emma answered immediately. I simply nodded.

"Fantastic," Victoria said, inserting herself back into the conversation. "You've got to see the auditorium first, it is huge."

'And has water damage,' I thought. Victoria started leading us out of the room while prattling on about the school. I tried to tune out her as we walked so I could go back to focusing on the structure of the building, see if there was anything interesting. But Dean hung back from the others and fell in step beside me, letting everyone but Amy walk in front of us. As soon as we were in the main hallway he spoke, in a hushed tone so the others wouldn't overhear.

"So, Taylor." He started. I gave him a wary look. "Just wanted to ask something. When we came into the room it seems like there was a… tension between you and Emma. You two got something going on?"

I took a sharp breath and sighed bitterly. "We have a past. But that's what it's going to be, the past. After today, I don't plan on seeing any more than I have too."

"Well, that might be hard," Dean said. "You're sharing three classes."

"I'll manage."

"Alright," he said, holding up his hands. "Just wanted to ask, you know?"

I glanced back, seeing Amy walking slower behind us. I looked back at him and shook my head. "Thanks, but no thanks. I think my problems with Emma aren't going to be very much from here on out."

He seemed to get the message, nodding and look away before moving to catch up with Victoria. As soon as he was gone, I changed my pace and started walking beside Amy. She was quieter, less intrusive. Much more my speed.

"Are they always like this?" I asked. Amy looked at me, raising an eyebrow oddly.

"Like what?"

"Loud," I said immediately, I gestured towards Victoria. A look of understanding passed over Amy's face.

"Well, she is a lot of the time. It's hard to find Vicky not in a good mood."

"Ah." I nodded. "And what about the other two? What are they like?"

"Carlos and Dean? They're okay, I guess. More Vicky's friends than mine. I try to keep to myself more than anything. That is, when Vicky lets me."

"That makes sense."

We fell silent for a long time after that, just listening to Victoria go on and on. She didn't seem to run out of steam at all. She could almost make a cafeteria interesting.

"So," I eventually got around to asking. "Is it normal for four students to come out of class just to show us around?"

Amy considered it for a moment, then shook her head. "No, not really. Actually kind of weird. I just know someone really wanted us four specifically to show you the place. For whatever reason."

"Hmm," I said, looking forward at Dean. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Interesting, isn't it?"

Dean paused in what he had been saying and look back at me, his expression unreadable.

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Threadmarks 7: The Stepping Stone

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

Apr 28, 2018

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#15

I have never spent twenty-seven thousand dollars before, but I don't regret it for a moment. Because now I was the proud owner of a broken and dilapidated eight-story tall building. Stairways were collapsed, doors were ripped off hinges, people had been using the lower floors to sleep in illegally, carpets were stained where they weren't ripped up, and the entire top floor had caved in years ago.

And for some reason, the local government had practically shoved it into my arms. Oh well, their loss.

Dad put a hand on my shoulder as I watched the men he got together carrying construction materials from place to place. It helped they didn't even need to build anything, just put things where I wanted it. Which was good, because I didn't have any money left after paying them and buying the materials.

"Well, what do you think?" He asked me. I looked up at him and smiled.

"It's a bit of a fixer-upper, but I think I can manage."

My dad chuckled and ruffled my hair a little. "Alright then, the guys should be about done getting things in place. Is there anything else you want them to do?"

I considered it for a moment, then smirked. "Just ask them to come back around in the morning, I expect I'll have to answer some questions and I'd like to have them around when I do."

"If you say so," he responded. "I'll go let them know. Why don't you head inside and get started? I'll catch up."

I nodded and strode forward eagerly. Excitement wasn't a normal feeling for me, but I couldn't lie and say I hadn't been looking forward to this moment as soon as I heard the news. I could barely wait for the workers to clear out to get started.

Immediately, I began on what was probably going to be the hardest part of the whole process. Repairing the damage. Even tiny cracks would technically remove structure, even if I would only see the difference when on a large scale. But this building had an entire floor missing. That was a lot of damage.

I started pulling everything into the building's structure, both from the collapsed parts of the building and the new material put in place not long ago. Brand new metal, wiring, wood, and glass. Then the broken bits from the older structure.

Once I had them all, I began moving things around within the building, getting all the raw materials where I would need them.

And then I really got to work.

I woke up the next morning when the sunlight came through the window and struck my face. I sat up on the freshly carpeted floor feeling extremely tired. I must have stayed up at least until two or three in the morning. I checked the time on a cheap wristwatch on my arm.

I was more than a little late for school.

I got off the floor and looked around to see my dad asleep with his back against the wall. I had restructured all the peeling paint at some point. Though, by the time I had it was so late my memory of it was a little fuzzy. Tentatively, I let my power seep into the building and I gave it brief look.

I smiled. Paint was infused with the surface of the walls, but that was the least of the changes. Even past the basic repairs I had made, I could feel even small changes to the internal structure of materials. The metal supports of the building had incredibly small microstructures in them. Like interlocking pieces except fused together seamlessly. On top of that, near perfectly straight lines and perfect curves came together to create a building that was easily three times as more stable than it was before I fixed it.

Some more materials to pad out the design and I'll have building so structurally stable an earthquake wouldn't be able to knock it over.

I descend down the flight of stairs from where I had been on the second floor and headed towards the front door. Even though I knew what it looked like through my power, I was eager to see what it would look like from the outside.

I was caught off guard to see people gathered around outside of the building. They were standing on the sidewalk across the street. Most were gaping and talking among themselves, a few even had cell phones out to take pictures of the building and me. Among them, I saw many of the workers I had hired the night before.

I turned and looked up.

Everything about the new building was polished. I had worked the glass that made up the windows much like I had the internal structure. Only with the glass, I gave it an internal structure on a smaller scale. To the point the structure looked crystalline. Although they were still glass, it had the effect as if looking through a clear crystal. When the light struck them, they reflected a pretty blue colour back.

What used to be simple concrete outer walls was now beautiful brick masonry. Plain metal window frames became trimmed with pine wood. And perhaps the oddest thing of all, the single door entrance to the previously cheap housing was now double doored.

I gotten more done last night than I thought. I reminded myself not to stay up so late next time.

"Not exactly being subtle, now are you?"

I turned and saw Assault walking towards me with an amused expression on his face. Normally, the sight of him might have annoyed me, but right now I was too happy. That, and I spent some time 'brushing up' on cape law.

"What are you referring to?" I asked, giving him a smile that I hope suggested I knew exactly what he was referring to.

He looked confused and gestured towards the building. "Um, that? You're sort of broadcasting to all of the Bay what you can do."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

He waved at the building in annoyance. "That thing! You clearly used your-"

I raised my eyebrows at him in an exaggerated expression that seemed to remind him of what he was about to say. He glanced at all the people holding cameras pointing at him.

"Oh come on," Assault said, his expression shifting to disbelief. "You spoiled your secret to the whole Bay but you're going to make me stay silent?"

"What secret?"

"That!" He pointed at the building. "That right there!"

"I'm not sure what you're implying."

He took a sharp breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, fine be that way. But someone very clearly used powers on the building so someone has to come with me and talk to the PRT."

"No one used powers one the building," I stated blankly.

"The whole building has been changed into something completely different overnight!" Assault said loudly, clearly trying to stop himself from shouting.

"Yes, it has," I said with a smile. "Thanks to the hard work and dedication of the workmen I hired to do it. Isn't that right?" I directed the last statement very loudly towards the guys I recognized in the crowd. They all nodded their heads with stupid grins on their faces. They knew what was going on.

Assault looked between the guys and me in disbelief, his mouth hanging open. After taking a second to collect himself, he asked,

"You're really doing this?"

"What?"

"This! With the building, and the men and the- the- the-" He stopped himself and took a deep breath. "Alright, fine. Be like that. But when they sent me out here, because of reports of a strange and mysteriously appearing building mind you, I was made aware you purchased this yesterday yourself."

"That is correct," I said with a nod.

"So tell me, where does a teenage girl like yourself get twenty-seven thousand dollars?" He grinned with a smug expression. I matched it.

"I had a really good summer job."

"And you can provide proof of this job, correct?"

"Yes."

"Can I see it then?"

"No, you may not."

I watched with more than a little amusement as his smug expression faded away to extreme annoyance.

"Alright look!" He said, finally losing his cool. "This building was clearly affected by powers, everyone can see it!"

I tapped my chin thoughtfully and turned to look at my building. "You know, I'm thinking you might be right. Some of these repairs I don't recall having my guys build last night, though I could just be forgetful." I turned back towards Assault with a light grin. "If that is the case then some brand new cape we haven't seen before must have been testing his powers last night and just happen to improve the building I just happened to purchase the day before.

"Now I don't think it is likely, but if you think powers made this building that must be what you're suggesting because I clearly don't have any powers." I shot a glance at the crowd still gathered around, making Assault shoot them his own evil glare. "So if you really think that is what happened you better get the PRT down here to do an investigation. Yet, I don't have anything against the hypothetical cape if he exists, so I will not be permitting access to my building if it comes to that."

"And what if I were to say, hypothetically, think this cape was actually you?" Assault asked in an annoyed tone.

"Well, you can think that," I answered. "But even if there was any evidence that you could present to the court and wasn't, say, oh I don't know, legally inadmissible because of privacy protection laws for certain individuals of a certain protection status, you would still have to prove that I was the cape in question. Which may or may not also require a certain standard of evidence because of the same type of law as mentioned before."

Whether Assault knew I was hinting at the Public Trigger Protection Codes or not, he seemed to get my meaning. For the same reason he couldn't just flat out say I have powers in front of these people, I also couldn't be publicly charged with being a cape until the PRT had met a legal standard for evidence against me. Stops them from just charging people that had a public trigger because there might have been a crime that might fit them. Part of the whole point of the code, to protect a person's identity after having a public trigger.

And that meant just because a building had been affected by powers, didn't mean it was me and there was jack squat they could do about it.

Evidence they probably wouldn't get even if I allowed them into the building.

"You've done your homework," Assault stated.

"I don't know what you mean, I'm speaking in complete hypotheticals."

Assault threw up his hands in the air and turned around. "You know what, I'm done. I'll talk to the PRT legal teams and see what they have to say about it. How do like the sound of that?"

"Have a nice day," I said as he continued to walk away from me. He shot me one last glare before leaving.

I turned back towards my building and walked toward it with a relieved sigh. Thank God they didn't send someone like Armsmaster or anyone else who might have actually known about the laws I was hinting at. Otherwise, it might have had to go into detail.

"Taylor," I heard my dad say as soon as I walked through the doors. I paled a little as I looked at him standing there with his arms crossed. "Was that step two?"

"The beginning of it," I said with a nod. "Step two is more of the step that never ends. Or ends when step five begins, depending on how you look at it."

"I don't think you've told me step four yet."

"Plausible deniability," I stated. "Anything after step four you can't know until it's happening. Otherwise…" I held my hands up.

"Well, if that's the case, then you can go to school today." He responded with his own smug grin. "Better get ready, you're two hours late."

Last edited: Apr 29, 2018

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Threadmarks 8: Two Steps Ahead

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

Apr 28, 2018

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#16

One thing I liked about Arcadia was the food. Instead of serving that state-mandated garbage, they sold receipts for pizza in the morning to figure out how much pizza they need. then have it delivered to the school. Along with a few extra boxes just for those like me who didn't get a chance to purchase ahead of time.

I grabbed some food and a carton of milk then turned to started walking towards the tables. Not for the first time in my life I found myself staring at a sea of full tables with no one I knew or liked enough to sit by.

I sighed and started towards the back of the room where I knew the seats were most likely to be empty. I was interrupted when Emma suddenly stepped directly in front of me.

"Saw the building you bought on the news," she stated. I raised an eyebrow at her and looked around. A few people were paying attention, but besides the table I noticed Victoria sitting at, no one seemed particularly interested in what was happening.

"Are you trying to compensate for something?" She asked, bringing my attention back to her.

"Are you trying to stop me from eating lunch?" I asked, completely unphased by what she was saying to me. That seemed to put her on the back foot for a moment, but she quickly recovered.

"No, go ahead and eat your lunch. All by yourself because-"

"That seems a bit hypocritical coming from the girl who doesn't have any flunkies around her right now." I smiled a little. "What's wrong? Did you leave them in your other school?" I looked around at the cafeteria, still seeing no one paying that much attention to us. I look back at Emma and gave her my best bored expression.

"Look, Emma, you've always been your best when you had a small army of girls backing you up socially and Sophia backing you up physically. Right now, you have neither. So why do you come torment me when you're actually putting some effort into it and then we can talk about how I'm more successful than you."

Without waiting for a response I pushed past her and really savoured the look on her face. It was like she couldn't tell if she wanted to be angry or sad, so she settled on internally pained.

Between Assault and Emma, I think I'm discovering my new favourite past time.

"Hey Taylor," Victoria called out to me as I walked away from where Emma stood, stunned. I gave her a questioning look, but didn't answer. She waved me over.

I looked around and, seeing no other tables open, I sighed and went to join them.

"What was that about?" Victoria asked me as I sat down in the only open seat, one that happened to be directly to her left.

"Oh, just a game Emma likes to play," I answered before taking a bite of my pizza. I looked around the table carefully. Dean and Carlos were here in addition to two more boys. One of which was staring at me with a wide grin he was more than a little distracting.

"Weird," Victoria said, glancing in the direction it happened at. "What-"

"Saw your building," the grinning boy said. "Someone live streamed your conversation with Assault. I must applaud your trolling ability."

Carlos sighed and waved a hand at the guy who said it. "This is Dennis, one of the weirder members of our group."

"And I'm Chris," the guy sitting next to Dennis said, raising a hand before turning his attention back to his food.

"So I got to ask," Dennis said, ignoring both Carlos and Chris. "When you were bullshitting Assault, were you making things up or did you actually know what you were talking about?"

"I knew what I was telling him," I answered vaguely. I took another bite of pizza and chewed it thoughtfully for a moment then looked at Victoria. "Say, if I wanted to eat by myself where would be the best place for that?"

Victoria looked confused for a moment. Dean took the moment and cut in and said,

"You don't have to eat by yourself if you don't want to, you can always join us at this table."

"I know," I said with a nod, taking another bite. "I just don't want to."

"Er, okay then," Victoria said with a frown. "You could eat where Amy always goes, the roof. Or you could sneak your food into the library and eat there. Past that, you'd have to find an empty table."

"Mhmm," I hummed thoughtfully. Not much point in moving now, but good for future reference.

"So what was the point in buying a building," Dennis asked. I shot him a look.

"Are we still on this?"

"Yep," he answered simply. "Do you plan on throwing a wild party or what."

"Ooo, I like parties," Victoria said with a grin. "And if you have an apartment building, that could be one really big party."

"Nope," I answered. I look up at the clock on cafeteria wall and noted the time. "The building is just an investment."

They looked at each other for a moment before Carlos turned back and asked, "An investment in what?"

I held up a finger and paused for an uncomfortable about of time until the bell rang and suddenly everyone started moving.

"The future," I answered, grabbing all of my things standing up from the table.

"Have a good day at school?" My father asked as I walked into the house. I could tell by his tone that wasn't really what he was asking. Or at least, not what he wanted to ask.

"Yes," I answered, throwing my bag on the couch and walking into the kitchen. He followed me in, a concerned expression on his face. "No one in the PRT has approached me yet. Can't say the same for the Wards."

"What?" Dad asked, alarmed.

"Relax," I said calmly, opening our refrigerator and finding a water bottle. "It wasn't outright, but I'm pretty sure this group of people that are trying their hardest to befriend me are Wards. At least some of them are."

He crossed his arms and gave me a look. "How can you be sure they're not just friendly?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not stupid? One of them is Victoria Dallon, who besides being a cape herself, she is very pretty and very popular. Girl's like her only hang out with girls like her. Unless she is hanging out with her boyfriend's friends."

"... So?"

"So, her boyfriend's friends don't make any sense either. I've seen them, talked to them a bit too. They wouldn't be friends if they met in school, only if there was something outside of school that brought them together. On top of that, I'm not the kind of girl that would be brought into the fold. None of them have known me long enough to care about who I am as a person, and I'm not good looking enough for any of the guys to give me the time of day. Or Victoria's type for that matter. In short, their trying way too hard to befriend me when they have no other reason to. Which leads me to think the PRT probably told the Wards to keep an eye on me. Victoria might know, but her sister Amy doesn't. Or just doesn't care."

"Is it really so hard to believe that some kids might just want to be friends with you?"

"Yes." I walked past him and back into the living room with the water bottle in hand.

"I think you are just being paranoid. Maybe you- Taylor where are you going?"

I paused after having opened the front door and looked back at him where he was standing with a confused expression.

"I'm going for a jog."

"Since when do you go on jogs?"

"Since now. I've got a couple hours until I can start working again. Got some internal things inside of the building I need to fix before I'm ready to sell it."

"Sell it? You don't plan on keeping it?"

"No, of course not. I'll buy three more buildings just like it with the profits from selling it. Then I'll do the same with those before I decided to settle in somewhere. These properties are just a means to an end."

"So is that what steps four through ten are about? You plan on buying everything in the city?"

"No, that would be silly. I'll have to take some of it. And the rest will be under your name."

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Threadmarks 9: Tax Collectors

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 4, 2018

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#22

"Taylor?"

My eyes flashed open at the sound of my name. Strange thing, never even realized I closed them. I got so wrapped up in my manipulation of the building that I had closed my eyes to focus deeper on it at some point. When I opened them, I came out cross-eyed for a couple seconds while I adjusted. Like putting on a new pair of glasses only much more weird.

I looked towards the door to the room and saw my father coming in with several pieces of paper written down. I smiled at him.

"Is that step three?" I asked.

He nodded with a wide grin of his own. "Asked around, lots of Dockworkers know the kind of the people you were looking for. Narrowed it down to a few names and gave them all calls. As it turns out, the news of your building has made more than a few people interested. At a hiked up rate, they'll be willing to take payment sometime later if we hire them."

"Can we give them a percentage, to encourage them to get me the best deal?"

"I'll have to ask."

"Alright, tell me about them."

My dad nodded and cleared his throat as he lifted up the papers and started to read off them.

"Mark Powell, an expert in cape law. He was the personal attorney for several villains and independents. Mostly defends rogues from the PRT, but he has been hired by the ABB once before when a man running one of their casinos had gotten in trouble with the law. According to him, if he hadn't stepped in the whole casino would have shut down due to a connection to the ABB. He seems like a good fit."

"Agreed," I stated with a nod. Just from that, he seemed like just the man I was looking for. "Who else?"

"Emily Rockson. Describes herself as the right hand to several real estate powerhouses in the Bay several years ago before leaving for 'safety concerns'. And by that, I mean she probably bought and sold land for one of the gangs."

"Useful. Who else?"

"Alson Quer. Former PR department head's assistant before becoming the Former Tinker Resource department head for the PRT."

"A former PRT agent?"

"He was caught selling illegal Tinker devices for extra cash. He's out on parole right now and willing to take a chance."

"Good, good," I said with a nod. "Call them back and see about getting them all together. I might not need the first and last yet, but being able to sell this building is important."

"You don't want to hear about the others?" he asked, lowering the papers and raising an eyebrow at me. I waved a hand dismissively.

"If I need anyone else, I'll give them a call." I'll need an attorney for step five, but it'll be nice to have him around for consul until then. Or if anything unexpected happens. The PRT guy though... I'm already thinking of a few dozen uses for. But nothing major. Before anything else, I'll need to-

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a gunshot from outside. Immediately, I felt a window in the building crack as something glanced off it.

I felt my eye twitch in annoyance.

"Excuse me," I said. "I have to go deal with whoever that was."

"Taylor," Dad said, alarmed. He moved in the way of the door, blocking me from leaving. I looked up at him, a little annoyed he stopped me. "Someone just fired a gun out there. No way in hell I'm letting you go out there an confront them."

"One bullet, from five men standing close together outside the entrance of the building," I told him sternly. "It was a message, telling me they want to talk."

"That doesn't change the fact I refuse to let you stand in front of a couple of armed men!" He responded angrily. I almost said something back, but stopped myself. It was less of a headache if I just went along with it.

"Alright," I said with a sigh. "I'll just open a window and yell down to them. And find a way to attack at range later," I added, mumbling under my breath. I mean, I could rip the structures holding the sidewalk they're standing on together apart and drop them ankle deep into rock dust. But besides a whole mess of complications that would bring up, it would leave holes in my sidewalk. And fixing that would just be a pain.

Dad hesitated a moment before letting me past. Even so, he followed me into the hall and down the hallway. I came to the window they shot and touched it with a hand. Another flare of annoyance shot through me at the sight of it. It didn't glance off like I initially thought. With closer inspection, with both my eyes and my power, I found the bullet had buried into it the glass. Fragmented into two pieces. I drew them out and let them fall into my hand as I repair the window. I looked at them for a moment before crushing them in my fist, or at least giving that appearance by ripping their structure up into dust.

I went to open the window only to find my father's hand on my wrist. I gave him a look, somewhere between questioning and annoyed.

"They might shoot again," he stated.

"Then no problem, I'll talk to them through a solid window," I said sarcastically.

"Isn't there a safer way?"

I took a breath and sighed before putting my hand on the window again. This time I twisted the glassing into thick rows and columns. The end result being a net of curved and twisted glass perforated with small enough holes that the bullet I picked up wouldn't pass through. At least not easily. I knew the strength of my structures, but my experience with bullets was limited. And glass, as interesting as it was to manipulate, was brittle.

"What do you want?" I shouted down to the men on the street once I was done with the glass. It was the middle of the night and it wasn't like any street lights were working in this part of town. With only the light of the building to let me see them, all I could make out were their general forms and the gang colours on the otherwise plain and dark clothing. ABB.

"To send a message," one of them called out in a vaguely Asian-ish accent. "You're new, so you're given slack. Tax on building, tax on profits from running building. Twenty percent. Includes protection tax for people living inside. Understand?"

I frowned. "And if I sell the building?"

"Forty percent tax on sale," the guy answered back. "Lung gives two weeks to make your choice and bring money. Understand?"

I took a deep breath and calmed my face. "Out of curiosity, what happens if I do neither?"

"Then we break the building. Or if lucky, Lung comes and breaks building."

"Starting to see why the rest of the neighbourhood sucks," I mumbled under my breath. "Alright! I'll send someone when I've made my choice."

The five of them made a hand gesture and turned away, message delivered. I smoothed the window over again. As soon as it was fixed, I sighed heavily and stepped away from the window.

"What does this mean Taylor?" My dad asked as we started back down the hallway.

"It means we have to sell this building in the next two weeks," I answered. "Then send The Collector to treat with Lung."

"You plan on paying the tax?"

"No. The Collector didn't get his name from his charitable giving."

Last edited: May 4, 2018

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Threadmarks 10: The Dream Team

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 4, 2018

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#23

When school got out, I found myself surprised to see my father waiting to pick me up.

In a limo.

He was standing just outside of where the limo in the small street loop where cars parked to pick up kids. The length of it taking up multiple spaces, earning more than a few glares from the people trying to pick up their kids.

My dad motioned me over and opened the door to the back of the limo. I raised an eyebrow and strode towards him. He didn't say anything as I went past him and climbed in, giving him a curious look the whole way.

The first thing that struck me was the smell of cigarettes. The whole of the vehicle was overpowered by the smell of them. Probably on the account of both of the other occupants smoking.

I looked them over as I slid across the leather seats to make room for my father, who was climbing in after me. The first man was an aged, balding African American with round glasses and a neatly trimmed grey beard. In his lap sat a black briefcase.

Sitting next to him was a rather tall woman in a suit and dress skirt, showing off her generously long legs. She had Asian eyes, though very pale skin. Her black hair was tied back into a long ponytail. She was also carrying a briefcase, but she set it to her side.

Both of them studied me curiously between puffs of smoke.

"You're Taylor Hebert?" the lady asked. There was no inflection in her tone, simply the question.

"Last I checked," I said with a nod. I looked her over again. "Emily Rockson?" The lady nodded. I turned toward the man and said, "Which makes you Mark Powell."

"The same," he answered with a nod. "Rockson and I wanted to make an… Early impression before meeting at the building."

"Which is the reasons for the limo ride over, I get it," I answered with a nod, looking around the place. The seats were leather and the lights in the car cast a light blue hue over everything. Couldn't have been cheap. Everything was clean and tidy, even the ashtray the two of them tapped their cigarettes into.

"Though it does beg the question," I began, "Why did you want to make an 'early' impression?"

The two glanced at each other before Rockson spoke. "We looked into the third member of this, uh, team you might say. Alson Quer is something of an alcoholic and only just got out of prison not long ago. We thought it reasonable to have a degree of separation when it came to first impressions."

"Good," I said with a smile and leaning forward. "This is a job interview after all. So, Rockson, what are you going to do for me?"

The lady smiled and cocked her head at me playfully. "Straight to it then? Alright. Above all else that I can do, I'm going to manage the purchase and sale of your buildings. Just as I did for Marquis and the Allfather back in the day."

"You worked for Marquis?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Rockson smirked and shrugged a little.

"I worked for a lot of people around The Bay years ago. Marquis, Allfather, even the early stages of the ABB. I handle nearly all of the transactions for property in the Bay for years. There were others, not as safe, a good bit slower, and likely to rat you out if things went wrong, but they were cheaper than I was. But most people knew I was the only right choice. I know who to talk to to get a sale to go through."

"That's good, because I want to have my current building sold as soon as possible."

Her smile widened. "Consider it done. With the amount of interest generated in the building, I can find a buyer by the end of today."

"And how soon until it's sold?"

"If I rush things? Two days. But with the amount of attention the PRT is going to give to it, I'll need some extra time to make the paperwork airtight."

"Something I might help with," Powell cut in. He gave me a sincere smile. "While Rockson might be well practiced with illegal property sale, the general legalities of things is where I excel."

"I know," I stated, giving him a measured look. "I looked into you, or rather, I tried. Your name has a habit of appearing like brief blips on a radar next to other people. Except for one time where you faced off in court against another cape lawyer."

"I know where this is going," Powell said, holding up a hand. "That stint against Calle in court was not a representation of my ability. I'm not a courtroom lawyer, which is what I told my client that refused to listen to me."

"So why shouldn't I call Quin Calle up?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"You just might one day soon," Powell said. "But Calle is an attack dog. Good a latching onto one or two things and pushing those through to the bitter end to bring a case to close. But I'm the one you call when you are trying to avoid being in the courtroom. The guy who tells you signing a green paper versus a pink paper keeps you out of jail. And when it comes to the legal filing for buisnesses, loans, and other document I expect you will need, I am the man you can call for that. From here on out, any legal trouble you are going to have with the PRT will be handled before you even knew there was a problem."

I smiled. "If that is the case, then I think we're going to be just fine."

The limo pulled up to the apartment building and came to a stop. The four of us climbed out each side of the limo and started towards the building as a group.

"Oh this is very nice," Rockson said as we crossed through the threshold. "I bet Accord would purchase this building in a heartbeat."

"If I'm going to sell to any supervillains, it going to be the ones already in the city," I stated. "I'm already going to have to fight them, no sense in letting more in before I handle that."

"I'd say that's pretty smart," a new voice said. We turned to see a middle age man limp through the front door. He had a metal cane in his right hand and hadn't shaved in a while. On top of that, he carried the smell of cigarettes and alcohol. "You're already at an uphill battle with the PRT, no sense in giving them the ammunition of giving Accord a foothold in the city."

"Alson Quer?" I asked, looking him up and down. He didn't look at me, instead, scanning the walls of the building as he limped forward.

"That's what they call me. Now, do you have any idea what sort of trouble you're into going forward?"

I gave him an odd look. "Why don't you tell me, since you know so much."

He nodded seriously, seeming to not detect the annoyance in my tone. "First of all, if you sell to Accord the PRT will instantly slap a 'dangerous person' label on you and do their damndest to crucify you with public opinion. If it sticks, which it will, it be three times easier to legally charge you."

"That's ridiculous," Powell said. "The law doesn't change because public opinion does. It-"

"See, this is why Calle verbally murdered you in court." Alson turned towards me while Powell stood there blankly, caught off balance. "Get through your skull right now. The PRT doesn't fight fair. They try the law first and when that fails they drag your image through the mud until no one will support you anymore. I saw the video of you and Assault. That was nicely done, but the only reason it hasn't backfired yet is because you caught the PRT on the back foot. I give it a week before they pull themselves together and come after you in earnest. You'll need to have your strategy figured out by then.

"Keep this in mind, girl, the PRT is one part law and two parts politics. All I see so far is three parts law," Alson gestured to Powell. "And four parts legs." He pointed his cane at Rockson.

When he was done with his rant I looked around at everyone with an amused smile. We had gathered in something of a circle unconsciously. I nodded. This would do.

I slid my school backpack off my shoulders and reached inside pulling out a stack of papers. I briefly look them over to make sure they were all there. I glance towards my dad and asked,

"You've worked out their payment?"

He nodded. "I got it all taken care of."

"Good. Rockson, take these." I turned the papers over to her. "These are twenty building in the Merchant territory I am considering. Once you sell this building, I want you to select the best possible purchases out of these and I'll consider them once I know how much money I'm going to be working with."

"Powell," I stated, rounding on him. "I need a bank account or several. Then I need to open a business where I can start charging rent for the new buildings I'll be purchasing. Think you can handle it?"

"I'll start drafting the papers," he answered.

"And Alson," I stated, turning to him. "I need to know everything you know about the PRT and what they might do going forward."

"You're in for a long chat," he said, raising an eyebrow at me.

Finally, I turned back to my father and smiled. "When we move into the Merchant territory, I'm going to need guys to protect the building and the people inside. Can you start scoping out some Dockworkers that can handle that kind of work?"

"More than a few come to mind," Dad admitted with a small sigh. "I'll ask around, see who is prepared. The guys you hired to 'repair' this building already spread the word around about you. Lots of people have been asking me about work so it shouldn't be hard."

"Good," I stated happily, my smiled widening. "Step four is ready then. Welcome to the dream team everyone."

Last edited: May 4, 2018

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May 4, 2018

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#24

I watched the four ABB members enter the building half past midnight as agreed. We were in a warehouse that had suffered cape battles in the past. Two different walls had multiple holes and burn marks that were left unrepaired as a testament to what Lung did to people who defied him. Like I was about to do.

The gang members spread out and looked around. They had guns, larger than the small handguns and flimsy rifles I had handled before. It made sense, the Merchants weren't likely to invest in the high-end stuff. But despite that, I had looked into police reports of gang shootouts and found there was a strange signature the Empire and ABB use when it comes to guns. The ABB favoured hollow points when they weren't planning something specific, while the Empire, though less likely to get into a shootout because of their abundance of capes, used full metal jackets almost unilaterally. It wasn't completely reliable, but with any luck these mooks will be using hollow points. The Collector armour won't have any problems with that.

"Collector!" One of the members shouted. "We're here! Bring us what you owe!"

I chuckled deeply, the laugh echoing inside my suit. They must have heard it, because they started looking around erratically. I waited for them to clear the area then detached the back of my armour from where I had fused it with the ceiling.

I landed on the ground feet first followed by the deafening crash of metal on concrete. The gangers let out a few shouts and a scream. In a split second, I compromised the structure of the concrete floor of the building before slamming my fist into it. Cracks radiated out from it. From the looks I could see on their faces, it had the intended effect.

I took a step forward toward the one who had called out for me the first time. He flinched back. Slowly, I stuck out a hand.

"Your gun," I stated seriously. It took a few moments for the words to process in his head. When they did, he shakily placed the rifle in the palm of the Collector suit. I crushed it in the hand a second later.

"Tell your boss," I began, "That my employer doesn't pay taxes, she Collects them."

The guy swallowed, but a strange smile spread across his face. Then he answered me by saying,

"Tell him yourself."

Suddenly my whole suit was thrown off its feet as something massive slammed into my side. As heavy as the Collector suit was, it didn't stop me from bouncing off the ground once and rolling while I held on to the internal handles for dear life. With an unholy screech of metal against rock, I slammed into the far wall and finally came to a stop.

I was laying on my side, but still able to see through the eye holes on the mask if I raised my head. It was then I saw Lung striding forward, getting slightly larger with every step.

"You think I would only send my men to collect what your boss owes me?" Lung asked. As quickly as I could, I climbed to my feet and repaired a little bit of the denting done by my unscheduled flight. I couldn't think of anything to say off the top of my head in response to that, so I didn't say anything. Instead, I charged forward and hoped I caught him off guard.

It was the first time I could put the full power of my suit against someone, so I didn't hold back. I went in and threw the hardest punch I could directly at his head, throwing the full weight of The Collector into it.

Lung raised both arms and caught the punch with his hands, only sliding back a foot with his feet digging into the concrete. He wasn't armoured yet, but he was just as large as me.

Lung twisted, latching on to my hand and not letting go. Suddenly I found myself lifted off the ground and heaved over Lung's shoulder before being thrown to the ground.

Inside the suit I was barely holding on to the internal frame. When thrown into the floor, my body rocked back and hit the inside of the Collector suit, causing pain to radiate up my back. But there wasn't any time to focus on that.

Lung planted a foot on the crook of the suit's arm, preventing me from getting up. I didn't have enough strength to get out of the position I was in. So I did the only thing I could do, I used the suit's other hand and grabbed on top Lung's crotch and didn't let go.

He let out a roar of pain and drew back, giving me what I needed to get off the ground and try to turn the tables. I rolled to my feet and charge Lung, driving my knee between his legs before throwing my body into his.

I drove him a few feet back before his hands suddenly gripped my shoulder. I felt claws digging into the metal, ruining the structure in that area. He returned the favour and drove a knee into the suit's crotch area. I looked down at the dent beneath me and swallowed. I mean, thank god I wasn't a guy and all, but still.

I didn't have any more time to think on that before I was being tossed through the air again. This time, I didn't stop at the wall. I sail through it in a shower sparks, rock, and sheet metal siding. I didn't let myself roll this time, sticking my hand into the asphalt to slow my flight and give me some control. I managed to land on my feet.

It occurred to me then that I couldn't have done that on my own. It took a couple days to figure out how to run by manipulating the dozens of structures inside the suit. The only way I was able to land on my feet like that was if whatever allowed me to understand the structures also allowed me to understand their movement.

I took a mental note and filed it away for later because it seemed like there was something more important going on at the moment.

Lung came through the newest hole walking slowly. He had grown a few more feet and black scales were sprouting out of his skin. In addition, it looked like there might have been a haze coming off him. He didn't stop to speak. He wasn't done.

I stood up straight quickly considered my options. Even repairing the damage done to my suit I simply didn't have enough structure to deliver the power necessary to hurt him. He, on the other hand, could easily damage my armour and make it even harder to move and attack.

I needed to fight smarter, not harder. My eyes shifted to look behind Lung, at the building and all the loose pieces of it.

I ran forward, spreading my power through the ground as I did. Lung ran forward to meet me with an angry shout. But at the last second, the ground underneath him shifted and threw him off balance. I planted a fist into the left side of his face and ran around his body as he fell to the ground. I kept running towards the warehouse, using my power to find what I was looking for long before I got there.

I slammed my fist into an intact portion of the wall, and with careful application of my power assisting, I ripped a support beam out of it just a little smaller than my suit.

I felt Lung's clawed and armoured feet running up behind me through my power and spun around as fast as I could, bringing the support beam to bare. He caught it in a hand and pulled on it, drawing me forward unwillingly. His fist came by a moment later, and I found myself on the ground again.

I was trying to meld the metal beam with the hand of my suit and bring its structure into the equation, but Lung ripped it away from me a moment later. He grabbed each of my hands and pinned them to the ground. As a last resort, I tried to fuse the suit into the road to draw power from its structure. But the road was too large and simplistic. If anything I lost overall structure by joining with it. I grit my teeth angrily.

Lung paused for a moment, as if deciding on what to do. He planted a foot on the leg of the suit and started putting pressure on it. I felt the metal heat up and bend before suit leg suddenly collapsed in on itself.

Something snapped in my leg as metal crumpled around. I let out a cry as the pain shot through my leg. I clenched my teeth and made an effort to not let out another sound despite the pain. Lung started to chuckled.

"So, there is a person in there after all. Tell the little girl welcome to the real world. She will pay the tax. This is only warning."

Lung stood up, releasing me as he did. I let out a breath involuntarily as the pressure was taken off my leg. Immediately I started fixing the damage around it. Peeling away the hot metal that had cut and burned my leg When I looked back up again, Lung was walking away.

I hobbled into my building through one of the side doors, having ditched my suit inside some other abandoned warehouse not far from here. I saw the lights on, meaning that my father was probably still meeting with one of the team members.

I stopped when I got to the stairs and took a deep breath. Looking down at my leg again, I felt another flare of anger from the sight of it. It was red and blistering. Thankfully, there was no compound fracture or something. But it hurt to put pressure on it, so it would be a bit before I would know if anything broke. I took a moment to steel myself before hobbling up the steps.

With every step, another flare of pain shot through me like I was being stabbed with a hot poker. It took everything I had to not to do anything more than grunt.

Eventually, I made it to the room in the building where we held our 'secret' meetings and stumbled in.

Surprisingly, it was just my father and Alson sitting in a few cheap chairs we had brought in. As soon as I was through the door, my father was on his feet.

"Taylor? What- Jesus, what the hell happened to your leg?"

"I stubbed my toe on a moving freight train," I replied dryly through a mangled breath. He helped me hobble to his chair and let me sit down.

"I see your fight with Lung didn't go as planned," Alson stated in a bored tone.

"Lung?" My father asked, his eye widened. He looked between me and Alson for a second. "You left to go fight Lung?"

"That was the plan," I answered as my dad started to unlace my shoe. "Although it felt like at best Lung fought me."

"Christ Taylor, you said you were going to keep me in the loop! That was like the first rule I set down, let me know what's going on." He pulled my shoe and sock off in one smooth motion. The two of us both drew a sharp breath at the sight of a purple foot with my toes pointed in the wrong directions.

"Oh my… we need to get you to a hospital." My dad said, standing up.

"Not a great idea," Alson cut in. "The ABB will be watching the hospitals for something like that. And if I'm not mistaken, you've got some things hinging on the separation between The Collector and you. And if the PRT happened to know about the situation, it plays out even worse."

"Then what are we supposed to do," my father asked angrily. Alson raised his eyebrows.

"Know anyone with a medical degree?"

My dad pinched the bridge of his nose and got to his feet. "I'm going to make a phone call," he stated. "With any luck, John's brother is still a paramedic."

My father stepped out of the room, leaving me alone with Alson for a few moments. He paused before holding his cane out to me.

"Here. The cane will look better than crutches. Might slow your healing a bit, but image is a good deal harder to heal. Whatever you do, don't let them put a cast on your leg. Only what you can hide beneath clothing." He turned around and started limping out of the room.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Home," he answered simply. "Unless you need me here to see someone treat your boo-boo."

I raised an eyebrow back at him as he left the room. I shook my head and looked back down at my throbbing leg. It was starting to swell. I took a deep breath and sighed.

It would be accurate to say I was annoyed.

A/N: I know Lung's English is usually broken, and typically gets harder to understand as he gets ramped up, but out of the interest of being able to understand him and my own lack of ability to really do it well, I wrote his words out clearly.

Last edited: May 24, 2018

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Threadmarks 12: Why I'm the Boss

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 4, 2018

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#25

They let me use the elevator in the school because of my leg, which was nice. Three dislocated toes, one broken toe, likely a fracture in my foot and ankle, some sort of acute muscle trauma in my leg, and minor burns. The thing with the fractures was closer to speculation, which was the best the guy could do without hospital equipment. He disapproved of the cane, suggested crutches, but I talked him down to just small metal braces on my toes that I could put a large shoe over, along with a warning the fractures could worsen with excessive movement.

The elevator stopped on the top floor, requiring me to hop up a small set of stairs to get to the roof. Cane in my left hand and paper plate with pizza in the other, I limped out onto the roof.

I was surprised there were benches up here to sit on. I had been picturing a plain open area with maybe a small building for the air systems. Instead, there were a few benches with the paint long worn off bolted to the roof in front of a short railing. They looked out toward the bay.

Amy was leaning against the railing, her lunch box resting on the edge to her left.

I strode up to a bench sort of close to her and sat down. She seemed to notice me when I sat, casting me a startled side glance before realizing it was me. When she did, she rolled her eyes and looked back out towards the city.

"Let me guess," she began bitterly. "You want me to heal your leg."

"Why would I want that?" I asked blankly. "Then I wouldn't get to use this cool cane." I held up the object in question to show her. It actually was pretty nice. It had a wooden derby handle connected to the main part made of a strong black metal. It gave it weight and structure. After manipulating it a bit, I had made the whole thing look polished.

"So you hobbled up here, not to get you leg healed, but to admire the view?" She asked in a tone that made it clear she didn't believe me. I shrugged and took a bite of my pizza.

"Believe it or not," I said after a moment to chew, "I came up here for some peace and quiet. Your sister and her friends aren't leaving me alone."

Amy made a dismissive sound and look back toward the city. I pulled a book out of my backpack and started to read while I ate.

After about fifteen minutes of silence, Amy turned around and stated, "I'm not going to heal you."

I looked up from my book and raise an eyebrow. "Weren't we just over this?"

"People have tried angles like this before. If you want to be healed, get in line at the hospital."

"Nice, but again, just here to eat my lunch in peace and quiet."

"Right," Amy said, crossing her arms. "Which is why you're pretending to read that book."

"What makes you think I'm pretending?"

"Because no one reads the tax codes."

"I don't blame them," I answered, glancing down at the book. "The tax codes are thousands of pages of structured nonsense. It's the whole reason I'm reading them. It all makes sense after some reflection, because it is, after all, just one complex structure. One terrible, horrible, horrendously inefficient structure. But still, it's like a math equation that goes on for thousands of pages. Makes perfect logical sense without making any sense at all."

That threw her off for a moment, making her unsure how to respond. I went back to my reading as I tried to puzzle together all the words on the page. It was true, what I said about these first thousand pages. I had noticed this when a strange feeling had come over me during math class. I actually like the math. It was logical, made sense. Once you committed the equations to memory, everything was predictable. Made me interested in how that applied to something like laws.

Tax codes seemed like the hardest place to start, so naturally I picked it up.

The bell suddenly rang. I snapped the book shut and shoved it into my backpack. Shouldering the pack and eating the last bite of pizza, I started hobbling back towards the roof entrance.

"Catch you later," I said, look back at Amy as I walked away. She gave me a cryptic look I couldn't understand. I shrugged it off and went to class. If she wanted to over think things that was her problem. I just wanted to eat my lunch and read tax codes.

As requested, the limo picked me up with both Powell and Rockson inside. Smoking again.

As we drove to where I needed to go Rockson turned some files over to me and started running over things.

"Just as promised, I got the building sold for one point five million dollars," she explained. "And as you instructed, the money was turned over to the joint account you share with your father. He made sure to pay us what was agreed. And forty percent of what we claimed the building sold for went to Lung"

I looked at my father and he nodded seriously. It was annoying, but I would have to bide my time before taking my cash back, with interest. I got my mind back on topic

"Who was it sold to?" I asked, leaning forward.

"An alias of some cape in the city."

"Who's alias?"

"Well if I knew that it would kind of defeat the purpose of the alias, now wouldn't it? But it was Coil's. Ever since Marquis, there has only been one cape in the city that could drop that kind of money that fast." She shook her head with a smile before taking a puff from her cigarette.

"Moving forward, I've started the buying process for the building you were looking at but I had a few questions."

"Yes?" I asked.

"I was under the impression you were going to save a bit of money. You still have to buy some materials, hire workmen, hire protection men, and various other expenses. Not to mention when the electricity and water bills hit for the buildings you will soon own."

"That was the plan," I said. "But plans change. Particularly when someone else has something of mine. It's why I requested the limo and Powell's services for today. I'm going to jump start the plan."

I looked out the window just as the limo turned on the street of the Boardwalk.

"Planning on taking out a mortgage loan on the properties?" Rockson asked.

"No," I answered. "Why would I ever turn over the ownership of my property to banks for some petty cash? That would just be stupid. No, I'm going to take out a business loan with just one of the buildings as collateral." I looked at Rockson and smiled. "I trust my master business strategy will win them over."

Rockson chuckled and took another puff of the cigarette.

"Of course," she said thoughtfully, "There is still the issue with the Merchants. The buildings you selected are used pretty heavily by them."

"I was counting on it," I responded. "They have some things I need. I'll be taking it all later tonight, if not tomorrow."

"You are one busy young woman," Rockson observed. I nodded in agreement.

The limo pulled to a stop outside the Brockton Bay Central Bank. Standing out front, smoking a cigarette, was Alson. Rockson and Powell both made a face at the sight of him. I cleared my throat, getting back there attention.

"I knew you two wouldn't invite him to the limo meeting, so I asked him to meet me here. I require his services the rest of the day. Speaking of which, here is what I need from the two of you."

They both suddenly looked interested.

"Powell, you and my father are going to accompany me into the bank to get the loan. I trust time won't be too much of an issue?"

"This bank?" Powell asked, pushing up his glasses. "Doubtful. Even if you didn't have me call and given them some warning this morning, they'd clear out the whole if it meant getting a chance to talk to you. When it comes to deals like this, they'd have to be idiots to stall for any length of time."

"Good. I'll pull some cash before leaving for some other things. You, Rockson, and my father will go about placing the orders and recruiting. He knows what I want and need, listen him." She nodded.

"Afterwards, Powell you can spend the rest of the day doing whatever paperwork and legal work you need to make things go through smoothly. Dad, you called the news outlets correct?"

He nodded. "Yep. You've got three interviews at six, eight, and ten."

"Good. Alson will be accompanying me the rest of the day to prepare for those. Tomorrow morning, we'll meet together again and go over where we stand. Understood?"

"Yes." The three of them said simultaneously. I smiled and got out of the limo. I was enjoying this.

"Nice cane," Alson said as I hobbled past him on my way into the bank. "Where'd you get it?"

"It was a consolation prize for having to give away a portion of my money," I answered dryly. Alson shrugged and joined the three of us as we walked in.

"Hurts you now, hurts him in the long run. The more superior he seems in relation to you the more it will sting when you take your money back with interest."

"Speaking of interest…" Balancing on one foot, I hooked my cane handle around the door bar and pulled it open. I smiled at the others as I grabbed it with my other hand.

"Let's go get me a small loan of a few million dollars."

Last edited: May 4, 2018

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Threadmarks 13: The Media New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 4, 2018

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#26

"Are you sure it's not too much?" I asked, looking down at the suit I was fitted in. Tailor-made by Parian herself. Rich red pants, vest, and a tailcoat. All with golden trim and shiny buttons. In addition, it came with black gloves to match the shoes.

"Nope," Alson said, giving me a look over. "That's actually the problem. It needs to be too much. Over the top to the point of being ridiculous. And most importantly, you need to act like it is completely normal. Which does mean wearing…"

Alson slipped the top hat over the head of his cane and held it out of me. I groaned as I took from him. I turned and looked back in the mirror before slipping it on. Like my clothing, it had a general deep red and lush black theme and gold trim. With it main body red, the band around the middle black, and the rim of the hat gold. I sighed.

"Tilt it to the side just a little," Alson advised. "Make you look even more quirky."

I rolled my eyes and adjusted the hat. I looked silly.

"Are you sure I can't leave the hat? I'm practically already wearing a costume."

"Nope, hat stays." Alson reached over from his seat in the provided comforter and grabbed the bottle of scotch he took from someone or from someplace when I wasn't looking. "Now, you sure you've got down what you're going to say?"

I snorted. "No. How could I? This is so far outside my normal thing I can barely remember how you convinced me to do this in the first place."

"Because public image is your greatest asset against the law." Alson stood up and took a deep swing from the bottle and stumbled forward, leaning on his cane for steadiness. "They do it all the time on Earth Aleph and here alike. OJ, Kennedy, among others. So here is what is going to happen."

Alson rested an arm on my shoulder, leaning his weight into me and causing the stench of cigarettes and booze to waft my way. He pointed in the way of the stage set I was soon to be on.

"You're going to go out there and lie your ass off. You're going to do it so unconvincingly that people will recognize you're not lying to them, you're lying to the guys that might arrest you. Play your cards right, and there won't be anything the PRT could accuse you of lying about that the people will believe."

"And if I don't get it right?" I asked. That put him off balance for a moment. In both senses.

He turned around and started to limp back towards the table he was keeping the alcohol on.

"Look, in just the week or so I've known you, you've shown to be a natural at this sort of thing when just talking to people. You've just to act like you normally do, but out there in front of cameras. Fortunately, there is a thing to help you do that." He turned around back towards me with a half-filled shot glass. He took a few steps forward and held it out to me.

"Down it in one go, don't try and taste it. It'll calm whatever nerves you have, untie the knots in your throat, drown the butterflies in your stomach, and whatever other metaphor based ailments you might have."

"I'm beginning to see why you were just the assistant to the head of PR," I said dryly, carefully taking the glass from him. He shrugged.

"I'm not a role model. I'm a drunk that tells you what angle to smile at the camera at. Now, I'm going to pass out on the couch. If you get done before I wake up just hit me in the balls or something." He turned back around and sank into the comforter with his bottle of scotch upturned in his mouth.

I glanced down at the half shot in my hand and made a face.

"I really have to consider the negative influences I'm surrounding myself with," I muttered before throwing back the shot like I had seen done on television. Just like Alson said, it was better to not taste it. But that didn't stop me from the coughing fit that followed.

"Ms Herbert?"

I turned and saw a young man with a headset and electronic pad standing behind me. I motioned for him to continue.

"They want you on set right now, we go live in five."

I took a deep breath and nodded, moving my cane forward. "Fine. Lead the way."

The stage area I was supposed to sit in was two blue couched chairs on a matching blue carpet. There was a glass coffee table in between them. Sitting in the far one was the host of the show, apparently known as 'O'. The bleach blonde woman gave me a small wave when she saw me. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and just smiled. I started to walk forward when she held up a hand.

"Actually, I kind of like the way you come into a room." She had a voice that was just a little more high pitched than acceptable. "You think you can stand off stage and walk on when I introduce you?"

"Sure," I said, failing to hide the sarcasm in my voice. "Not like I'm using the cane because my foot hurts." I turned and was lead off stage by the same guy with the tablet from before.

"Alright," he said, not even looking up from the device to address me. "So when she calls you on you'll walk in there, smile, do whatever. She'll get up, shake hands with you, then you can sit down in the chair. After that, O will guide you with questions for the appropriate amount of time. Just be yourself and don't get nervous. Got it? Got it."

He turned and walked away before I could say anything, not that I tried too hard.

I waited off to the side, mentally going over things I wanted to say in my head. I was reminded of a few things in the past about other people's public appearances. The PRT has had more than a few screw-ups in the past to keep in mind. Heroes saying one thing, people hearing another. Followed by series of apologies and trying to fix the damage. And they had an entire department dedicated to PR.

Funny, I couldn't recall any villains making mistakes like that then having to clarify what they meant later. Maybe villains could afford to be honest, or maybe they were just stupid. Who knew.

The sound of extra stage lights clicking on and a countdown beginning drew me out of my thoughts.

When the countdown ended a theme song of some sort or another played while O smiled at the camera. Behind the camera crew, a live audience that wasn't there a few minutes ago applauded for a few seconds before dying down.

"Hello everyone," O said in a sing-song tone. "Welcome back to another Early-Late Show with O. Instead of our normal beginning, I've got a special guest with me I'm so eager to get to. And I get the feeling you're going to like her.

"So everyone please welcome the girl who went viral after her now widely known conversation with Assault. Taylor Herbert." She gestured towards me off stage. Immediately, I put on my fakest smile and walked forward.

The crowd cheered at the sight of me walking up on stage. By this point, I had managed to more or less hide my limp as a more natural movement with the cane. Something I was sure helped my image.

O stood up and shook my free hand, patting me on the shoulder a bit before gesturing to the chair. I nodded and sank into it, shifting my cane into my lap. O did the same and waited until the cheering died down before asking her first question.

"So, Taylor, I've got to ask what were you thinking when Assault approached you that day?"

"Jumping right into it then?" I asked with a raised eyebrow, eliciting a chuckle from the crowd. "Alright, well let me see." I looked upward with an exaggerated thinking expression. "Probably something along the lines of whether or not Assault's costume made a good colour for some window drapes. They don't, by the way."

O let out a fake laugh that was echoed by the crowd. "So you weren't nervous at all? Getting approached by a Protectorate member after so obviously using powers has to a little unnerving."

I shrugged. "Well, since I hadn't used any powers I figured I was in the clear."

"Oh, of course," O said sarcastically. "And speaking of which, since you clearly don't use powers, are you at all worried about some of the villains in the city coming after you just in your normal life?"

"Well, not too much to be honest," I said nonchalantly. "I'm just your completely normal business woman. Or business teenager, if you like. Absolutely no reason the villains should single me out."

More chuckles. Not the really loud laughter and cheering from before, but still something to work off of.

"You really are a character," O said, seeming genuinely surprised. Her smile widened. "So what about the future? Do you plan to just keep improving the one building or will you be expanding."

"Well, that would be telling," I said with a smile. "If I just spoiled my strategy that would take away half the fun I'm having."

"Oh, you can't give just a little hint?" O put on an exaggerated frown.

"I'm afraid not." The crowd let out a disappointed 'aw'.

"Well, what about a goal?" O asked, changing gears rapidly. "Surely you're not just buying for the sake of buying. What is it you want, Taylor?"

"Me?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "Well, I want to save The Bay. This city has been failed on all levels, and I want to fix that. I want to make Brockton Bay great again."

That, if nothing else, got the crowd cheering for me. O clapped her hands together once and let out happy laughter.

"That is an admirable goal Taylor, and I look forward to seeing how well you do. Now, I had some questions about the everyday life of someone who is totally not a cape, like yourself."

"Go ahead," I stated. I settled into my chair and shifted my cane so I can toy with it idly on the far side of my body, away from the camera. And to think, I had to do this two more times tonight.

Last edited: May 4, 2018

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Threadmarks 14: The Merchants New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 4, 2018

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#27

Warning: Excessive swearing and offensive language ahead.

It was a strange sensation. With my new funds that my dad was helping me manage, I bought a hundred feet of piano wire. It wasn't sold as one length, unfortunately, but it worked out for me because it turned out I could split it into ten separate lengths and still have more than enough.

I stretched them incredibly thin, using my power to manipulate them on a much smaller scale than I've worked with before. I had spent nearly the last hour manipulating the thickness of the wire to try and find the place where it was still strong enough for my purposes while not breaking easily. The middle ground I found left something to be desired.

Being about as thin as my hair, the razor floss had grown an absolutely ridiculous amount in length. Giving me all the range I could have desired. And even if it didn't, I could combine two or more of them. My actual issue was that with the wire that thin there was only so much structure I could fit inside of it. And that meant with my power alone I couldn't put enough force behind it to cut a sheet of paper.

I was standing on the top of one of my new buildings, testing the razor floss in the middle of the night. I was still wearing the suit and top hat from the interviews. Part of my look, as it were. There wasn't any moon out tonight, so there wasn't much light for the wire to reflect. As far as anyone else was concerned, I was just standing motionless and not doing anything.

However, what couldn't be seen was the wire wrapped around the index finger of my glove, the fabric of which I also reinforced with my power to be better at handling the wire. From my finger, the wire stretched to a light pole, where it bent and went into one of my other new buildings and snaked through the window. There was a pineapple sitting on the ground, a wire having just finished wrapping around it. From there, I willed the wire across the room and to an exposed pipe. I improvised a knot and pulled the wire as tight as I could make it with just my power. The pineapple didn't even move.

Then I twitched my finger and the fruit was sheared in half.

I smiled as I pulled the wire back towards me, threading it through weaved fabric the glove and wrapped it around the inside of my hand and arm. Not because I was done, no I definitely needed a bit more practise. But I felt ten people enter the dilapidated building I was standing on.

It was time to deal with the Merchants. With the light sound of my cane tapping against the ground, I limped down the stairwell.

I never expected the Merchants to be smart, but I didn't expect them to be complete idiots either. They were all here. Skidmark, Squealer, and Mush along with a seven armed men. Each carrying the largest weapons I've ever seen a Merchant carry. Mush was standing about a foot taller than Skidmark, covered in lumpy bits of something I couldn't make out. Squealer wasn't holding any weapons.

I sent out my wires without breaking stride.

"Greetings," I said, walking down the steps. "I'm glad you took me up on my offer."

"I didn't do cuz you fucking asked, I did it because you're moving in on my goddamn territory shitstain!" Skidmark shouted at me. I raised an eyebrow. That escalated quickly.

"Really?" I asked. "What territory is that? Some bridges you hide under? Broken buildings? Most of this city is a hell hole and you're at the bottom. You don't have territory, you have something nobody cares enough to take. Except for me, that is."

"How about you say that when I bend you over the table and fuck you red, bitch? This is my fucking place, my goddamn buildings. Like hell, some spider-legged cumdumpster is going to walk in here and act like it's hers."

My eye twitched. "I see. Then let me make this clear then. This isn't your building. The Merchants are done. I own you, I own everything that belongs to you. This meeting wasn't a negotiation, it is a message you need to get through your skull. Understand me?"

"You think your hot fucking shit don't you?" Skidmark asked. "I'll put you fucking back in your-" he raised a hand and I twitched a finger.

The wire cut about halfway through before catching on something. Before the pain could register with him, I discreetly pulled on the wire with my whole hand and completed the cut.

Skidmark let out a scream and immediately the seven guys he brought with raised their guns. I raised my right hand and curled two fingers on my left hand. Only one of the Merchants managed to fire a shot before the guns were inexplicably ripped out of their hands, and that shot went wide. I didn't think the wire would have cut through the metal of the guns, but by using exposed beams and pole as a series of pulleys, I could disarm them fairly easy.

I lowered my hand, manipulating the wire to yank the guns to the ceiling.

"Let me make something clear Skidmark," I said, resting both hands on my cane. "I'm not in a good mood. In fact, you might say I'm in a really bad mood because I need to get some of my money back. And I need stuff you have to do so. So, I'll just point out that you don't know anything about me. You don't know what I can do, who I know, who I have working for me. All you know is two things. First, you just lost your hand. Second, I own this building and subsequently, will now own you. Do you understand or do I need to give the order for something a little more personal of yours to be lost."

Skidmark didn't say anything, instead, shaking his head as he put pressure on his wrist and tried not to make a sound. I looked at the rest of them.

"Anyone else? I don't want there to be any doubts as to what is going on here. I own you all now. Your drugs, your money, your territory. It's mine. Do you understand? Squealer? Mush?"

I couldn't hear Mush's response over Squealer's, but I assumed it was an approving grunt.

"What the fuck do you think?" Squealer said angrily. "Hell. No."

I tilted my head at her curiously. "Really? I do realize you not in a position to bargain here."

"Oh, shove it up your ass! You want to be left alone, then fine, we're gone. But you ain't taking all our shit too."

"Hmm…" I hummed thoughtfully. "What do you seven think?" I looked past Squealer at the former gunmen. They each took a step away from Squealer.

"Whatever you say," one of them answered in a gruff voice.

"Fucking cowards," Skidmark muttered.

I chuckled. "You're not going anywhere Squealer, I need your abilities for something."

"Like fucking hell I'm going to help you with shit!" She shouted back. I gave her a look.

"Tell me Squealer, what is a Tinker without any hands?"

It took a moment for that to register, but when it did she paled. I couldn't help but smile a little.

"Glad we have an understanding," I said. I tapped my cane on the ground and opened up the floor beneath her. I could have done that from the beginning, but I wanted my message to sink in. That, an I also needed to get the guns away from them. And disarm Skidmark.

She attempted to latch on to the edge of the hole I made for a moment before I forced her through it with my power. She let out a scream before I closed the hole and silence returned. I looked back at the others with a smile.

"What's going to happen to her?" One of the gunmen asked.

"You should be more concerned about yourselves," I stated. "She'll stay locked in the basement for the night. You seven will go back and tell whoever you need to tell about the new management and get them to organize a meeting where I can ask some pressing questioned. Skidmark will be going to straight to the PRT because he is too stupid to justify keeping around, and Mush," I paused and looked him over briefly. "I… actually don't need you for anything. If you like a paycheck, stay and I'll make you a bodyguard or something. But if you leave now, I won't hold it against you.

Mush let out a grunt and turned around striding for the door. I raised an eyebrow but said nothing. The former gunmen parted around him and let him pass. He left without another word.

"Well?" I asked as soon as he was gone. "Get moving!"

As if a fire had been lit, they jumped into motion and ran for the exit. I nodded and looked down at Skidmark.

"You brought everything you had here and didn't have any backup plan to save you," I told him. "This is why you only held parts of the city nobody wanted. You and everyone who works for you are complete idiots."

"Fuck… You…" Skidmark said between heavy breaths. I considered him for a moment then shook my head.

"Well, at the very least the PRT will give you excellent treatment for that hand."

Last edited: May 4, 2018

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Threadmarks 15: Squealer New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 12, 2018

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#42

I was buried in my notebook, completely lost in the numbers as I ran through them. I had decided to track my own cash given my new found ability to understand and follow the numbers. It was actually easier than the tax codes, considering all I had to do was follow a sum of cash and track its path. Then it was just a matter of recording the bleed off.

My dream team had so far made the biggest dent in my funds, although it looked like my father was taking less money than he should. He had been managing the money so far and handling all the hiring I needed. Something I'll have to fix with him.

After that, it was more of a timeline than anything. Purchased the buildings, purchased lengths of piano wire, bought raw material, hired workmen, registered a business and paid related fees. That took care of completed transactions, but now I had to deal with future ones. Expected maintenance, bills, fees, and everything I would have to furnish my places with. If I was as good with these numbers as I thought, I could approximate pretty close to what it will end up costing me. And if it is too wildly off, I could go in and investigate it. The only thing that was annoying me was the Lung-sized hole in my overall funds.

I started running those numbers when someone speaking distracted me.

I looked up to see Amy looking at me expectantly.

I was sitting on one of the roof benches, having eaten half my lunch before I opened my notebook to run through the numbers. Amy was holding her lunch box in her hand.

"What?" I asked blankly.

"I asked if you minded if I sat down," Amy answered. Instead of waiting for me to answer her a second time, she stepped past me and sat on the far end of the bench.

"Saw you on TV the other night," Amy mentioned as she opened her lunch box.

"Neat," I stated, looking back down at my notebook. "What did you think?"

"Your hat looked weird."

"Well, that's just rude," I responded dryly. She rolled her eyes with a smile. She fell silent for a few minutes, digging into her lunch while I went back to my numbers. I was in the middle of taking another bite of my pizza when she asked me another question.

"You really think you can do it?"

I glanced at her. "Do what?"

"Fix the city. Just like you said."

I shrugged. "Probably. And if I can't it's not like we're any worse off."

Amy snorted. "Yeah, I guess that much is true." She paused for a moment and seemed to reflect on something. She laughed a little and shook her head. "Just realized I'm sitting next to a millionaire."

"Well, I guess it would depend on how you look at it. I'm pretty sure I have a negative net worth right now. At least until I get my new building all fixed up and producing."

"Either way," Amy said, casting me a side glance. "Do me a favour and don't fuck up. This city doesn't need anything else screwing it over."

"Can do," I said with a mock salute. I checked the time on my new watch. About five minutes left in lunch. I started packing up my stuff.

"Oh, one more thing," Amy said, sticking a hand into her bag and rummaging around for something. She pulled out a crumpled envelope and held it out to me. I took it and started to open it.

"Victoria found some reason to throw a party and asked me to invite you. Somehow you've managed to avoid her for the last week."

"I've gotten pretty good at avoiding people I don't want to talk to," I stated as I read through the invitation. Saturday, a few days from now. With all the New Wave members there. Something to keep in mind.

"Tell her I'll think about it," I answered, slipping the note into my pocket. "Don't know if I'll be busy on Saturday. Never know, with all the gangs and what not."

"Okay," Amy stood up and brushed the front of her clothes off. "Let me know if you're coming. It'll make Vicky happy."

I nodded and started towards the door, my cane tapping on the ground as I did.

"The PRT have vans parked outside," Alson told me as we walked into my main building, our strides matching. I called it my main building for a couple of reasons. One, it was the tallest of them, standing a whole twelve stories tall were the others were ten stories or less. Secondly, it had Squealer locked in the basement.

"Already had some guys look at it," I answered. "Black, unmarked vans seemed a little cliche but it certainly helped in noticing them."

"Well, I doubt the PRT are too concerned with being noticed around you right now. But it does beg the question how you are going to fix these buildings without them noticing it."

"Please, that's the easy part," I stated. He raised an eyebrow at me questioningly. I stopped walking and pulled out a cellphone from my pocket before grinning at him and dialing the number.

"Rockson," I said as soon as she picked up. "I'm afraid my buildings have a bug problem."

"Is that so?" she asked, sounding skeptical.

"Yep. How soon can you get fumigation tents to cover my buildings?"

"Ah, I see," Rockson said, sounding amused. "I'll need a few hours to get everything set up, but I can get some boys from Brockton Bay's local fumigators over there with some tarps by tomorrow morning. Will that work?"

I lowered my phone and looked around the building, both with my eyes and my power. The workmen were already done bringing in and installing the new material. Hmm... I could probably still fix up the inside if nothing else, but it was annoying to have to wait another day to fix the outside too.

"Sounds good, get it done," I said into the phone before hanging up. I glanced at Alson, who looked amused.

"Nicely done," he stated. "Now, care telling me what you dragged me here for?"

"You were the head of the Tinker Resource Department weren't you?" I asked, continuing forward through the building and heading toward the basement stairs.

"Yeah, for a bit. Why?"

"Because I've caught myself a Tinker, and I'm going to need some resources for her."

"Ah, Squealer then," Alson said with a nod.

I lead him down the stairs to where the door to the basement used to be. Right now, it was fused seamlessly with the wall. I grabbed the handle and made the door function again before pulling it open.

"Squealer," I called into the dark room. "Come here."

Using my power, I felt her crawl forward slowly. There was something that smelled horrible wafting out of the basement. When Squealer crawled into view, I was surprised to see her looking pale and sickly.

"Food," she croaked.

"Jesus," Alson said, striding forward to get a better look. "How long have you had her in there?"

"Less than a day," I stated, studying the situation curiously.

"You can't just take a heavy drug user like her and shove her in a hole for twelve hours. She's going into withdrawal."

"This fast?"

"With most drugs it only takes a day. Alcohol is just a couple hours."

"Is there something we can do without putting her back on drugs?" I asked, frowning. Alson raised an eyebrow at me.

"Well, in a sense," he answered. He reached into his pocket and drew out a white box of cigarettes and a lighter before tossing them at Squealer. I watched with a sort of morbid curiosity as she scrambled to grab them and try and light one.

"What's the point of that?" I asked.

"In my experience, the best way to fight an addiction is with another addiction. I don't have a clue what ungodly cocktail of drugs this loon was on, but a cigarette addiction should make it easier to not lose her damn mind."

"Aren't cigarettes dangerous though?"

"More dangerous than coke and heroin?"

"Eh, fair enough," I said with a shrug. I looked back down at Squealer. She was sitting up now, with her back against the door frame as she drew deep breaths through the cigarette.

"So she'll be okay?"

"With a loose definition of 'okay', then yes. She'll get sicker as time goes on and her symptoms get a little worse, but she probably won't die. Probably. If she doesn't, then she should be able to function enough to do a little work."

"Good," I stated, taking a few steps forward. I took my top hat off and drew a couple pieces of paper from inside it. I knelt down next to Squealer and showed them to her.

"Can you make this?" I asked. Her eyes darted from me to the paper to Alson rapidly, looking around wide-eyed.

"I… want food. And water."

"Soon," I stated sternly, "But I need to have an answer. Can you make this?"

"I don't… I don't know. It's not a fucking…" she spaced out for a second before squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head. "It isn't, like, really a, uh,"

"Vehicle," I said. "Or at least not in the strictest sense. I've researched some of your stuff before. Guns. Stealth fields of some kind. Other things. Got me thinking. I don't think your power is what you think it is."

"What the…. fuck are you… on about?"

I paused for a moment, considering whether or not it was worth my time to try to explain it to her. Or if she would even remember it. Eh, if nothing else it will help Alson since he would be the one acquiring material for her.

"I see it one of three ways. Either your power is vehicle augmentation, and that's why everything you make looks jury-rigged and about to explode. Or you're just on drugs so much of the time it screws up your process. Which is why I need to know if you can make this." I shoved the papers towards her again.

Her head rolled to one side and she looked at the floor wide-eyed.

"M-Maybe. Gotta… Gotta get engines. Truck engines. The big ones. And, ah…. Steel. Sheet metal or somethin'. And tools, I got ta…" She closed her eyes and in the span of two seconds, started snoring.

"Close enough," I said. I stood back up and turned to Alson. "How much will just those things cost? Two semi truck engines and, say, five hundred pounds of cheap steel?"

"Well, nothing 'cheap', but the other Tinker things are what's going to cost you," Alson said. "Tinker tools alone tend to be thousands of dollars, but I get the feeling Squealer won't be using anything to high end. But whatever else she ends up needing for whatever was on that paper will be much more expensive."

"Alright, for now, when you're not helping me with PR I need you on Squealer watch. Grab ten guys from my father to help you and get her what she needs. Within reason."

"I'm not…" Squealer suddenly mumbled, apparently awake again. "Not helping you with shit?" She stated it as if it was a question.

I turned towards her and rested both hands on my cane in front of me. "Tell you what Squealer. Do good on this one job and I'll reward you. Weekly salary, escorted trips to the Boardwalk once a week, freedom to pursue other projects on occasion, and even small doses of the drugs you're currently hooked on. And even more in the future if you do good work. But before all that, I need you to build this. Do you understand?"

She swallowed and nodded before looking away. I smiled and turned around.

"You can handle it from here Alson. There much to do. Meeting with proto drug lords, some advertising for my soon-to-be open housing, and a party I plan on attending. Normal teenager things."

"Makes me miss the days kids just smoked pot," Alson replied.

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Threadmarks 16: Connections New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 12, 2018

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#43

I walked into the room and saw three guys sitting at the table. I looked them up and down critically. They were more or less the same as each other. Middle-aged, greasy, unshaved. Nothing too distinctive about any of them, but I suppose that was the point.

"Is this all there is?" I asked, walking to my seat at the head of the table.

"No," one of the guys answered. "There were twelve others, but they didn't want to hear your offer. Decided that without Skidmark, they be better by themselves. We're a little smarter than that."

I resisted the urge to put emphasis on the term 'little'. My first instinct was to be a little rude to these drug dealers because of what they are. But needed them. I know I won't be able to stop the flow of drugs in the city, but if I can take control then I slow down the flow.

"Good. Why don't you tell me how Skidmark handled you guys." They looked at each other from where they were sitting. I continued to stand.

"Skidmark was pretty loose," the same guy from before said with a shrug. "Demanded a monthly tribute from each of us in return for protection. He rarely got involved in any small-scale stuff. More just gave direction and protection."

"If anyone slacked behind, he stepped in," one of the others cut in. "He was also kind of paranoid about where the drugs were being kept at. That got worse when The Collector started hitting us left and right."

I nodded seriously. "Well, you won't have to worry about The Collector anymore. Can't say the same for the ones who chose not to attend this meeting. Now, how do you three get the drugs you sell?"

"Well, Robbie is the only one who makes the stuff," The first dealer pointed at the only one who hadn't spoken yet, making him 'Robbie'. "Mac and I buy it from out of state. Got a pipeline of people going all the way to Mexico."

"I also got a deal with Newter in Faultline's crew," Mac said, raising his hand a bit. "It's not much, but it helps."

"I'd imagine," I said with a nod. I tapped my cane on the floor thoughtfully as I considered my options.

"Here is what I envision," I started slowly, still working out some of the details. "I can give you protection just like Skidmark and more. Soon, I'll have buildings where your drugs can be made and stored safely. Perhaps stores and bars and such were your goods can secretly be sold out of. And of course, because you three were the ones to show up for this meeting, you'll be taking over the operations of the other twelve. Just tell me where they are holed up and I'll have them Collected."

The three shared some looks and nodded together. The first one who had done all the speaking turned to me and said,

"I assume you want the same tribute as Skidmark."

"No," I stated, surprising them. "I want detailed accounting from here on out. Find someone or do it yourself, but I want every purchase and sale you make detailed and accounted for. I'll go over the numbers myself and take, say, ten or fifteen percent of the profits. Sound good?"

The three nodded in unison, each on taking on a smile.

"Alright," I continued. "Then come back here tomorrow with a list of every location where the twelve drug dealers might have something for me to Collect. Also, I'll want every contact you guys have or can get. Where you buy your guns, where you buy your raw materials, anything like that."

"What are we going to call ourselves?" Mac suddenly asked. I looked at him.

"What?"

"Our name? We can't call ourselves The Merchants now, can we?"

Well, I could just keep calling them Merchants. There was something pleasing about the idea. I already took everything else of theirs, why not the name? At the same time, I wanted this to be distinctive. Something people would recognize.

"Lords," I stated. "That's what you are now, minor drug lords under my employ. Call yourselves that."

I stood on top of my main building again and started sending out my wires. This time, instead of five I was sending out thousands. Funny thing, the piano wire I bought was a little more than four millimetres thick. But my hair, the thickness I roughly based my razor floss on, would be about four-hundredths of a millimeter thick.

Or one hundred times smaller. And out of a hundred feet of piano wire? I wasn't short on supply.

I spread the wires out between the other nine buildings I owned and attached them to the building's structure. A single wire wasn't nearly complex enough to give me a jumping off point to really toy with the building's structure. A few hundred though, that was a different story.

This time, the materials I bought weren't just cheap stuff I bought with the dregs of my money, as it had been with my last building. This time there were buckets of paint sitting out for me to absorb and will into the walls, piles of fabric to make curtains out of, brand new carpets to replace the old ones, surplus of wood to make windowsill flower boxes and shutters, slabs of marble to put across counter tops, and everything else I could think of.

I sat down, drew drapes around every window in every building, double checked to make sure no one was inside any of them, and got to work.

I don't know how much went by before I was interrupted. At some point, it was like the world just faded away around me and was replaced with visions of improving structures. I could hardly see what things actually were past their structure. It was… hard to explain. Like a normal couch seemed more like an outline of a couch. Then I reached in and made it something new. Something stronger, more complex.

The interruption came when I felt keys being inserted into the front door the building I was standing on. Only a few people had keys to this place. I allowed it to be unlocked and waited for them to make their way up here, opening my eyes to give me time to adjust back into more normal vision.

I smiled when my father came up onto the roof.

"Hey kiddo," he said with a tired smile. "Saw your work on the way up. It's looking fantastic. But I don't think anyone in this part of town is going to be able to afford these kinds of apartments."

"Well obviously," I said. "But these apartments are meant to protect the people from this area. No gangs can pressure anyone inside these buildings or anything like that. So I'll make them cheap, just enough to pay the utility and net me a small bit of profit. Looks good for PR too."

He stopped and smiled at me for a couple seconds.

"What?" I asked.

"Ah, nothing. You're doing good work, Taylor. Great work. Fixing the city, protecting the people in it. Creating more jobs for the Dockworks they've seen in months in just a few weeks. Especially when you start needing more protection muscle. It's… It's fantastic, Taylor. More than I could have hoped for."

I consider that for a moment then shot him a wry smile. "Does this mean your not mad about Lung anymore?"

"Well, if you didn't have a million dollar business to run I would totally ground you for that," he answered sarcastically. He paused for a moment before continuing. "By anyway, I wanted to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"Well, since you are buying a bunch of things and fixing them up, I wanted to ask if you had any plans to fix the ferry."

I blinked. I hadn't even considered it. I had been more focused on securing my property and getting my money back from Lung that I didn't consider other business ventures like that. And now that I think about it, there are plenty of other kinds of buildings I could purchase. Gyms. Coffee shops. I could open my own bank if I wanted.

"Er, yeah," I said, shaking myself out of thoughts. "I think I can arrange that. What do you need me to do?"

"Well since its government property that hasn't been put on public auction or anything of the sort, you're going to have to fill out some paperwork and file it with The Office of-"

I waved a hand at him. "Don't bother with that. I think I can turn this into a publicity stunt. I'll find a way to get the mayor on the phone or something. I'm sure we can work out a way to just give it to me."

"You think he'll go for that?"

"Why a not? I'm pretty popular around here as far as I can tell, and if the mayor contracts me to repair and run the ferry or something similar, it only helps the two of us."

"I guess so." My dad nodded and looked away. "I'm going the head back to the Docks and talk with some of the guys. They like you a lot by the way. But I wanted to give this number, some guy called saying he wanted to invest in your business. I said you would give him a callback."

My father held out a strip of paper with a number scrawled across it. I pulled out my own cheap cell phone and took the paper from him.

"Thanks, I'll see what it is. See you at home in a couple hours."

"I hope so, you got school tomorrow." He chuckled as he turned around and started walking back down the steps of the building. I waited until he was a floor away before dialling the number.

"Hello." A male voice answered.

"Hello, this is Taylor Hebert," I responded cooly.

"Ah, hello Taylor. My name is Coil. And if you are interested, I would like to make you a very rich person."

"...I'm listening."

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Threadmarks 17: Cityhall New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 12, 2018

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#44

I watched the fumigation tarps fall away from the buildings with a sense of pride. The ten buildings gleamed in the sunlight where every surrounding building seemed to absorb it. This time, I lined window sills and other edges with metal. Improving it to the point of having a mirror like reflection and a small golden tint. I managed that by mixing just a touch of copper into the metal.

The glass was a deep ocean blue now, and the masonry on the building even more detailed than before. Mosaic tiles wrapped around the entrance doorways. The rooftops on every building, except the one I used the most often, had patio covering for some rooftop eating that could be seen from the ground at certain angles. And wasn't that a trick to do with the fumigation tents on?

I turned and faced the cameras pointed at me, putting on that fake smile I had practiced not that long ago. I held my arms up, cane pointed out and into the air. A small crowd of people that seemed to live in the area gathered just behind the cameras, looking hopeful but staying quiet.

"Behold," I said with as much sarcastic flare as I could possible give it. "The first of the Hillfort company's soon to be many apartment buildings. Rooms will be available by the end of the day."

"How much do you plan on charging for these apartments?" Two different reporters asked at once.

"Starting at four hundred dollars a month," I said, tapping my cane on the sidewalk and resting my hands on top of it. "Which includes utilities provided there isn't excessive use."

There were some murmurs through the crowd at that price. Before anyone could ask anything, I pressed forward.

"Make no mistake about who these apartments are for. They are created as high-end apartments, but they are for the protection of the people in this neighbourhood. And as such, they will be priced for the people in the neighbourhood, they will staffed with hired guards to protect the occupants. These buildings and all buildings I will build in the future will be priced according to for the same purpose."

"How far do you plan on expanding?" One reporter asked.

"Will you be building any places of your own?" Another put forward.

"Do you worry about retaliation from the Merchants or any other gang?"

I tapped my cane on the ground again, subtly giving a signal I was about to speak again.

"I do not fear any gang, as of this moment. And as for my future plans, I would like to keep that secret for all those that would take advantage of that information. Now, my father, Danny Hebert, is standing outside that building over there. He will be glad to show you the first floor of that building. All other locations are closed off to the public until further notice."

As intended, the reporters and some of the small crowd gathered started gravitated away. For the people that remained to question me for something, I whisked off my hat and produced a piece of paper out of it.

"If you are looking to secure a room, call this number." I held out a small stack of flyers. The number was for a guy my father found in the Docks that handled renting out warehouse spaces to companies. Handling tenants was similar, on a surface level, so he agreed to do it.

I passed the flyers into the people's hands and started walking away, heading towards a limo parked not far from where I was having the little press release. I trusted my dad to be able to handle things from here.

I climbed into the limo with now practised ease and rested my cane against the floorboards. Rockson raised an eyebrow at me and took a pull from her cigarette.

"Still using that cane I see."

"Would have thought the injury would be close to healed by now," Powell stated. Surprisingly, he wasn't smoking. Rather, sipping a coloured liquid from a wine glass.

"It is," I answered. "I've just got used to the cane. Part of my look now, and it is useful for several things. Extending my reach and hitting people."

Well, the actual truth of it was that my ankle didn't heal quite right but I didn't want to admit it. Getting it fixed at this point would require either Panacea's assistance or a trip to the hospital. I didn't want to do the former, and my time was too valuable for the latter. It didn't hurt too badly, more of a minor ache when I put weight on it. So it was better to just live with the cane, since it wasn't too much of a bother.

"I see," Rockson stated. She took another pull and let out a puff of smoke towards the ceiling.

"So," I began, "Tell me what you think of Coil's deal."

The two of them paused and looked at each other. Rockson went first.

"It seems like a good deal. On paper, it'll look like you purchased a small little commercial building for a thousand dollars. Then, one of Coil's alias purchases that same building from you for whatever massive sum of money you two agreed on that I wasn't made aware of."

"I've reviewed the paperwork I was forwarded," Powell said, lowering his glass. "Legally, everything looks fine. Incredibly strange, but legal. To the public, this would look very much like a shady deal, but I can make the transaction completely private as you are a fully privately owned business. It would take a court order to force the total amount to be revealed, and again, it's still legal. His other offer though seems to be more of an interest to you."

"The offer where instead of a lump sum of money, he gives me a company and all its assets." I clarified.

"Yes," he answered with a nod. "Although it would take several more weeks to process, and seem even more dubious in everything except on paper, it would give you a lot more money in by the end. The taxes from it are going to be much more difficult to avoid."

"Believe me, I know," I said glumly. "However, I think I have a solution that works out better and avoids the taxes. At least on my end."

"Oh? How so?" Powell asked, leaning forward with interest.

"Well, say I purchase a building owned by Coil for a few thousand dollars. And in the basement of said building, there happens to be pallets of cash that was gone completely unreported. No one but me knows the cash exists, and I make it disappear into the profit margins of my new buildings."

"Clever," Rockson stated. "Except putting together that kind of hard cash would take as much time as it would take to transfer ownership of Coil's business to you. He can't just wire transfer the money to you."

"Very true, but it is where the taxes would be the lowest," I stated. "Brockton Bay is caught in a paradox of trying to raise money for social projects to help the poor and trying to encourage more business in our already wrecked economy. As a result, business profits are taxed as low as they can go and there is a greater number of things that can be written of as business expenses. Property sale tax though, that is where the government makes bank. As I'm sure you know."

Rockson nodded. "It's a stupid profit model on the city's part, taxing one time purchases more than long-term profits. But if the government was good at anything we'd be out of a job."

'Very true," Powell agreed.

"Yes, and I'm getting really sick of losing money on it," I said bitterly. It actually wasn't that bad, at first. With my first building, I was buying a defunct, government-owned building for less than a hundred thousand dollars. But selling that building had me end up paying more than I bought it for. And these buildings I purchased from the bank that had owned them at the time. That cost me even more money. I'm sure the mayor was enjoying it though. Prick.

"So I presume your new plan is what you're going to ask of Coil?" Powell asked.

"Yes," I stated with a nod. "I'll bring it up with a phone meeting later tonight."

"Just want to be clear," Rockson stated. "You are doing something for Coil in return."

"Possibly," I said. Of course, they knew I was going to do something for Coil, but probable deniability and all.

"But you're not going to tell us?"

"No. That is my concern, no one else's."

They nodded. I bet that wasn't the first time they heard that phrase.

The limo pulled up to city hall and came to a stop. I motioned for Powell to follow me out. He did, Rockson stayed put. I might not need Powell for this meeting, but he was nice to have around in case I did.

Powell and I walked into Mayor Christner's office swiftly. He greeted us at the door with a smile and the offer of a handshake. But even as I gave it to him, my eyes drifted to the heavy set blonde woman sitting in a chair behind him. Just in front of his desk.

"Miss Herbert," the mayor said happily. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"It's pronounced Hebert," I said, still looking at the woman instead of at him. "Ah, who is this?" I asked, turning my gaze back towards the mayor as he let go of my hand. His happy expression shrank just a touch as he glanced back at her.

"This is PRT Director Piggot," Christner stated. "She asked to join this meeting and I allowed it."

"I was under the impression this was going a private meeting between the two of us," I said cautiously. Piggot was watching me calmly, with a calculating sort of gaze.

"Well, Piggot has raised concerns so now it is a private meeting between the three of us and your attorney, I presume," Christner added hastily. I pressed my lips together in annoyance.

"I would have liked it if you called and let me know first," I stated. "I don't like having things drop on me."

"I apologize," Christner said sincerely. He turned to walk behind the desk. As he sat down, he asked, "So, what exactly is your proposal?"

My gaze lingered on Piggot for a moment longer, before I looked back at the mayor and strode forward to his desk, Powell hanging a few feet back.

"For years the infrastructure in this city has been in complete disarray. And now I'm in a position to fix it," I stated. "What I want is a contract that would allow me to renovate and operate the ferry, bus system, and other things. Perhaps the Train Yard could be included, as that could use some improvement as well."

"All of that," the mayor said slowly. "And I presume you would profit from this in some way?"

"One way or another," I replied. "Either I am paid a certain percent more than what it cost to rebuild the whole system, or a certain profit margin is determined in the contract beforehand. Say, if I retained control of the system it was contracted to be a one percent profit on any revenue earned, then the rest would need to go back into the system or I would need to reduce the rates."

"Perhaps now is a good time for me to cut in," Piggot said, addressing the mayor with a nod then turning to me. "In just a month, you've turned thirty thousand dollars obtained through questionable means into a multi-million dollar industry. Something which, despite what you may try and claim, is only possible with parahuman power and legally dubious people filing your paperwork." Her eyes settled on Powell behind me.

"But this isn't about that so much as it is to your rapid expansion," she continued. "If you continued on this track, climbing as high as you can as fast as you can, then when you crash you will crash hard. And if no one stops you, you'll take all the city with you."

"I think you may be exaggerating a little," I answered dryly.

"Am I? Well, let's look at what you're doing right here and the possible side effects of it." As she spoke, I was aware of Powell in behind me opening up his suitcase and drawing out several pieces of paper. Interesting. Piggot pressed forward, unconcerned with him.

"You want to bring the ferry back into working order, presumably for the same reasons your father, it would seem, has been trying to for the last several years." Piggot reached on to the mayor desk and picked up a piece of paper I recognized as one of the many letters my father had written to the city in the past.

"It would let low-income people better get to where the jobs are located, across the bay." She read, then looked back at me. "I'm sure on the surface that makes sense to you."

"It does," I said evenly, not following where she was going with this.

"To anyone more experienced it sounds like a disaster," Piggot said flatly. "There are very few markets keeping this city afloat. Tourism is one of them. Starting up the ferry project would allow gang members and other criminals in the area cheap and easy access right into the heart of the city's functioning industry. And if the Boardwalk becomes unsafe, then this city's tourism industry will collapse in on itself and we have the second coming of the collapse of the Docks."

I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying what I really wanted to say. Not just because I wanted to seem respectful, but also because it might have revealed a little too much about what take I had on this.

"You believe that letting the poor people in the city will hurt tourism?" I asked.

"It won't be harmless," she stated. "Which is why I'm here, to tell you to stop."

I paused. "Excuse me?"

"You are toying with things you don't grasp. Things a fifteen-year-old girl couldn't possibly have enough real-life experience to fully grasp. Already, you've upset a balance of in all the gangs. Just recently, both the Empire and the ABB had a swell in numbers. The Merchants have gone quiet over the last few days which in the past has never been a good sign. Your buildings threaten a very important source of revenue for the gangs. And you will push them into a gang war to protect that resource. You have no supervision, no one watching over you and making sure you don't step out of bounds. And that makes you a very dangerous person to the well being of this city."

"And I suppose you've done better?" I asked pointedly. Before she could respond, I continued. "No, no, your right. Things shouldn't change. Obviously, you holding a status quo for the last few decades has only had positive effects on the city. I'm one person, you're an entire government branch. There is no way I would be able to do what you've failed to do." I turned to the mayor, growing more serious. "Mayor Christner, I am offering a valuable service to the city. On top of a vast improvement across the board, I'm sure it won't hurt your public image to permit me this kind of contract."

The mayor glanced between us for a moment, then sighed. "I'm sorry Miss Hebert, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to side with Director Piggot on this one. The risks are too high."

The mask I put on for this meeting faded as disappoint rolled over me. I rest my hands on my cane in front of me and frowned.

"I see." I stated. "Then I think we're done here." I spun on my heel and strode out of the room. As soon as the doors closed behind us, I looked at Powell.

"Would I get in trouble if I reveal anything said in that meeting?"

"No," Powell answered coolly. "It was never specified at any moment that the meeting would be confidential, and I took a brief transcript should you need it." He held up a sheet of paper with the last half of our conversation written out in his neat handwriting. I smile and pulled out my phone as we exited the building.

"Hello?" Alson answered, sounding tired.

"Alson, how soon can you schedule a press conference."

"Er, a few hours on this short notice. Why?"

"Because I think the city would be interested to know that the Mayor and PRT are working together to keep the poorfrom getting jobs."

Alson chuckled sinisterly. "This is going to be a fun one."

Last edited: May 24, 2018

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Threadmarks 18: Emma & Dolls New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 12, 2018

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#45

I chewed on the end of my pencil as I was looking over my numbers again on the roof of the school. Between all the recent purchases I've made and all the people I've begun to pay I was getting a little too close the end of my funds for comfort. At this rate, I would have to stop spending and wait for the revenue to start coming through. But hopefully, I won't have to do that after tonight's activities.

My Lords had gotten back in touch with me with a list of every location used by the runaway drug lord and what I could expect to be at the location. I would be heading out tonight to Collect those. That, along with this week's profits in from my Lords, should give me a small boost.

The guy my dad put in charge of the tenants was collecting security deposits for the people that have taken up residence in my buildings since yesterday. It wasn't much, mostly Dockworks that lived in that lived area that I had recently hired. On one hand, it was a good way of keeping many of them loyal. I gave well paying jobs, affordable luxury housing for them and their families, and security. But it highlighted another problem. The people in the area with my buildings simply didn't have the money to even afford the low price I tacked on the rooms.

I would need to create jobs before I could begin to really profit from these buildings. Jobs that could have come from the ferry. Stopped chewing on my pencil and worked through a few more numbers. The answer seemed clear to me.

If they won't let me fix the ferry, I would just have to build my own.

"I saw your protest yesterday," A voice said, drawing me out of my accounting. I looked up, expecting Amy. Instead, I was marginally surprised to see Emma. She seemed a little unnerved when I smiled and her and leaned back, stretching my arms across the bench. Somehow I doubted she wanted to talk about the little protest that got started not long after my announcement. I had underestimated just how angry many people were with the mayor at the moment.

"I was wondering when you would swing by again."

"What?" Emma asked, her eyes widened slightly.

"Well, when you didn't pull together a group of flunkies and come after me for a second go at it, I decided to keep an eye on you," I told her nonchalantly. "Just to see if you lost interest or if you were plotting something. But you know what I saw?"

I watched her face carefully, trying to get a measure of how she was going to react. But she seemed more confused than anything. At first, she scowled, but it faded into a slightly angry yet somehow sad frown. If she was hostile like I've seen her a thousand times before her face would be something more predictable. Yet she wasn't completely submissive either.

Interesting.

"What?" She asked in a neutral tone. I looked her up and down for a couple more seconds then said,

"You don't have any friends. Not here, anyway. At first, I thought that a little strange, I mean you were practically the queen of Winslow. But that reminded me this isn't Winslow." I stood up and walked towards her with my cane in hand.

"Winslow survived because it was the only option for people. Arcadia survives by being the best. That means teachers that care when you bully someone. Administration that notices when gangs try to recruit and pressure people.

"That's why you never came back at me," I said, lifting my cane up and pressing the tip against her chest from a distance. She took several steps back. I followed, not letting her get the cane tip off her that easily. It would be so easy just to hit her with it, just a little payback for all she did at Winslow. For making me rip the structure of that school apart like I did.

But no, I was smarter than that. And smarter than her for that matter.

"You can't find any friends here because your a thug Emma, and Sophia was a thug. All your so-called friends were thugs. And there isn't room for thugs in Arcadia. You're isolated, alone, and unable to connect with anyone else. So I'm thinking you came here to take out your bitterness on me, lacking any other options."

I lowered my cane and took a step back to see how I did. I expected her to lash out in some way, to swear and cuss and get mad. Instead, she took on a defeated look and refused to meet my eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking down at her feet. My eyes widened in surprise. That was the one thing I wasn't expecting.

"I...I was wrong," she continued. "To do what I did. To you. It was… So terrible that I can't apologize enough for it." She stopped and swallowed, then looked up at me pleading. I narrowed my eyes at her and started to rack my mind to find her angle.

"...No," I said slowly. "You knew what you were doing was wrong before. You didn't suddenly have a change of heart, no one does what you did because they think it isn't something terrible. People do that when they think people deserve it." She looked away again, letting me know I was on the right track and it was getting to her.

"Somehow, you rationalized what you were doing to me and other girls. So whatever is making you do this now means whatever logic you used doesn't apply anymore." I clenched my hand around the handle of the cane as a cold sense of anger settled in my stomach. "So what is it, Emma? What is different now that makes you come and apologize to me?"

"You… you…" Emma began as she went pale. "You're strong and successful and…. Terrifying. Not… not like before. You do want you want to now, fight the PRT and villains and… everyone else."

I felt my eyes widened as a realization washed over me.

"Oh my God," I said slowly, all my anger now replaced with shock. "You're making me your new Sophia. You couldn't find any other thugs to befriend in this school so you went to the next best thing. Me."

She swallowed and looked away, visibly shaking. The lunch bell rang a second later.

"Well, great," I said, taking a few steps back to gather my things. "You've wasted part of my lunch. Here is a tip Emma, I don't befriend thugs. I hire them. So swing on by if you want a job. I could use a poster girl for my company."

I grabbed my stack of papers and what was left of my lunch and started walking back into the building. I was vaguely aware of Emma collapsing onto the bench as soon as I turned my back.

"How is she doing?" I asked as I walked into the basement of my main building, now wearing the top hat I wasn't allowed to wear at school. I still wore the suit though.

Alson glanced up from his newspaper and took the cigarette out his mouth before glancing back towards Squealer where she was welding two pieces of steel together. I could see grey smoke coming from under the welding mask she was wearing, telling me she was somehow smoking and welding at the same time. I didn't smoke, but I could guess that took a bit of talent.

"It comes and goes," Alson said. "Her withdrawal symptoms peak during certain times of the day. Makes her dizzy, weak, confused, and sometimes even vomiting. But just like I said, the cigarettes keep her head on straight. Enough to get this work done." He gestured towards the thing she was working on. I had to triple the size of the basement into the ground to make room for it all.

Right now, it was just a framework for what the final product would be. A framework she was turning into a shell that hopefully, she would be able to fill out with her Tinker tech.

"Any new developments?" I asked, looking back at him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Besides her newly acquired massive appetite? Yeah, there have been a couple more things." Alson shifted and pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. "She's made a list of some materials she is going to need and I went ahead and made a few calls, got some price estimates for you. She also needs you to make a few more steel plates out of the raw steel you got in the other room. The shapes and dimensions she needs are also on here."

I took the paper from him and quickly scanned through it. I grimaced at the numbers.

"I can't afford all of this right now," I stated. Alson shrugged.

"Well, the longer you wait the longer Lung is going to have your money."

My eye twitched and I looked back down at the paper. "If I found some other way to get this gold, I could buy a portion of the materials now and get more later."

"Hmm," Alson hummed thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair. "Is The Collector waterproof?"

"Why?"

"Well, most of the world's gold is in the ocean. Just have The Collector take a short walk out there and use your power to find it. That, or bring a metal detector."

"I'll have to try that," I said evenly. That would have been a nice idea to have before. If finding gold like that was as possible as he made it sound, which I had no idea if it was, it would have been much easier than trying to take money from The Merchants.

I turned to go make the slabs of steel Squealer was going to need. I just wanted to touch base, as I had other places to be tonight.

At ten o'clock, I knocked on the door to Parian's small store. She answered it almost immediately, which made sense considering I called ahead.

"Good evening," Parian said pleasantly, standing aside to let me enter.

"Hello," I answered with a smile, walking inside. "Thanks again, for the suit and hat. I really like it, particularly all the pockets."

"Yeah, I thought you might like them. But I've noticed you on television using the hat like it has a pocket."

I chuckled a little. "I like the look on people's face when I pull stuff out of it. For instance," I took my hat off and reached inside, pulling out two large fishing line spools overfilled with silvery wire.

"What is that?" She asked curiously.

"Razor floss, I call it," I answered as I reached into one of the pockets of my suit to draw out a bit more. "Really, it's piano wire I've had stretched and thinned to be as thin as hair. Through a secret and completely legal process, of course."

"Of course," Parian said in a way I could practically hear her eyes roll. "So what are you looking for?"

I started to say something, then paused and said something else instead as it popped into my mind.

"Sexy underwear."

"W-what?"

"Under armour," I stated. "Something I can wear underneath the suit for some added protection that wouldn't be very noticable. Why, what did you think I said?"

Parian stared at me for a moment. "But you… nevermind." She shook her head before reaching out to grab a spool of the thread. I saw a little bit of light glint off the thread as she drew a bit out with her power.

"I think I could make something like that. I would need a little more than this to make something to cover your whole body, let alone if you want it thicker than a sheet of paper."

"I have ten more rolls outside with a few guys I brought."

"Hmm… that should work. But I'm curious why you came personally. I still have your measurements from where I made your suit, and you didn't have to bring the material yourself, I don't think."

"Well, because I have an offer for you that I want you to consider," I stated, looking her over. She tilted her head.

"What's that?"

"Work for me," I stated simply putting my tophat back on.

"What?" She asked, sounding shocked.

"I would like you to come work for me personally. I'll give you an apartment in one of my building's rent free. Even have it redesigned for you if you like. Very soon I'm going to be branching into a variety of kinds of business. I'll give you your own store, acquire materials for you, sponsor any project you like."

"And I would have to make things for you when you ask." She said seriously.

I shrugged. "I might kick something your way every now and again. Not very often. Past that, your free to do as you like."

She took a deep breath and looked away with a sigh. "I don't know. I can't be getting seriously affiliated with any capes or-"

"Which is good, because I'm not a cape," I stated.

"Which is why I'm going to make this stuff for you," she continued flatly. "But if I took you up on your offer, I'd be a target of whatever enemies you end up making. Which happens to include the PRT."

"Well, you don't have to make the choice tonight," I stated, resting my hands on my cane. "The offer is open if you ever change your mind. Just give me a call if you do." Using a little wire on the tip of my finger attached to my business card inside my sleeve, I did a hand snapping motion that made it appear as though the card just appeared in between my two fingers.

She took it and put it in one of her pockets.

"Okay, I'll give you a call when I'm done making the undersuit for you."

"Thank you," I said with a smile. "I really like the structure of your work. Now, if you excuse me, I have some clean up to do around my neighbourhood."

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Threadmarks 19: Rubbing Elbows New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 12, 2018

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#46

I strode into a warehouse with ten armed men, three accountants and in improvised costume.

Meeting the guys face to face I felt was necessary the first time around. I needed to establish who was in charge and who they answered to. But I was aware every interaction with them following was potentially incriminating. So I needed another cape persona to meet with them as, considering The Collector wasn't very subtle.

What I decided on was a little more interesting anyway. I had taken glass and reinforced it with the thin steel wires, spaced just far enough apart to make them hard to see through the glass. I then twisted the glass around my body through use of my power. With a coloured piece of cloth on the lower half of my face and the shape of the glass obscuring me further, I managed to get by without much of a mask. A little adjustment to give the glass a even more feminine form and taking in a lot of wires to use, and then I had myself a perfect cover for some more everyday criminal offences. Clearcut.

Ten armed men I brought were security officers from my building that, while not explicitly told, pretty much knew Clearcut was 'employed' by me. Although, they only looked like security officers. In reality, they were more akin to the Enforcers on the Boardwalk if the Enforcers were some of the more hardened Dockworkers given handguns. I elected for handguns for a number of reasons. Namely, cheaper and less intimidating to the future tenants of my buildings. Might send the wrong message if every building I owned was crawling with black-clad security officers holding assault rifles.

I also had three accountants with me.

Inside the warehouse, The Lords were waiting for me with all the money and drugs we had gathered just last night. It was almost noon now. Saturday.

"The Collector says you guys did good last night." I stated.

"Yep," the one I remember being Mac said. "I don't think the other guys have many other places. And even if they do, they won't be able to compete with us."

"Yeah," The third one, Joe, said as he ran his hands over the impressive stack of drugs sitting in the middle of the floor. It was enough to fill a pallet and a half of assorted bags, bricks, and boxes of assorted drugs. Just behind it, there was another pallet with disorganized cash thrown on top of it haphazardly.

"With this supply, we should be able to outperform anyone who doesn't have a drug Tinker," Joe stated. Mac and Robbie snickered.

"Good," I said. "Although, the boss has a few questions." They looked at each other.

"What?" Robbie asked.

"Two things, first she wants to know about the idea of not selling inside the city."

"What do you mean?" Mac asked, sounding confused. "How do we make money if we don't sell to the people inside the city."

"By selling them to New York," I answered. "Sell to the gangs and capes outside the city and let them handle it from there."

"Well, probably, but if we don't make use of the customers we have here, someone will," Robbie said, crossing his arms. I nodded. It struck me how much getting rid of drug addicts would be much like getting rid of a drug addiction. I would have to wean them off over time. Unless I can somehow make a Squealer situation with this.

"Agreed," I answered with a nod. "Here is her proposal, there are three of you. So you don't have to compete with each other, each one of you will pick one kind of drug. Let's say, for example, cocaine, heroin, and meth. Anything else will be trafficked to New York and sold there. If someone attempts to create a market for them, the boss will send someone to deal with it. You three though, will take full control of the street markets for the three kinds and will be responsible for edging anyone else out with your own hired men. Does this sound fair?"

The three guys looked at each other and thought about it seriously. Robbie was the first one to nod.

"I can make the meth and handle that," Robbie stated. Joe nodded in agreement.

"And I already got a steady steady supply of coke from the pipeline, now one of their only connections to this part of the city," he said.

"Eh, I don't got just one thing though," Mac complained. "I got a few different kinds of hallucination stuffs, ecstasy and the stuff I get from Newter. But coke was my main stuff."

"Ten expanded your hallucinogen market," I stated. Mac paused, then nodded. "Then, if that is settled, the boss decided she would gift these accountants to you. They'll be in charge of keeping track of your money just as much for you as for her. Understood?"

The Lords give the three guys leery looks, but nodded their heads.

"Good. Do your jobs right, and the boss won't have to step in. If she does though, trust in the fact The Collector and me will be the least of your worries. If we're done here, I'll take our cut and go."

"Yeah," Joe said, sounding a little put-off. "I think that about covers it."

"Then it was a pleasure doing business with you." I motioned to my guys and they walked forward, opening up some duffle bags to collect my money.

"Taylor," Victoria said as she answered the door, clearly surprised. "You came."

"Yep," I said and a smile. "I don't think I've been to a party in a while. Thought it might be fun"

"Er, well, come on in then." She stepped aside and gestured into her house with a grin. I nodded to her with a smile and strode inside, cane tapping on the ground.

The first thing that struck me was trying to nail down the tone of the party. It was a little crowded with other kids, but not overly so. There was music playing in the background that I would describe as generally 'club music'. But since I've never been to a club, that was sort of just a guess.

The way everything was set up seemed like Victoria had been trying to throw a wild party, but parents had stepped in and yanked everything to a more neutral state. There was free food and even a punch bowl on the table, but I could smell alcohol somewhere. Hiding under the other smells. Someone had probably snuck it in. There was a large television where a couple of people were playing video games, and a couch right next to them where a couples were making out. I could see people outside through one of the windows. Some in a pool and some playing Twister on the porch, strangely.

I didn't attend a lot of parties, but the contrast between things seemed odd.

"Well, make yourself at home," Victoria said, gesturing around. "Eat something, play a game, don't let people steal your hat, whatever. I'll be around if you need me." I nodded to her and started to drift around.

I'll be honest, my reasons for coming were completely self-serving. I knew Victoria wouldn't expect me to come, so I got to see her surprised look. If anyone was watching this little event carefully, it would either look like I'm rubbing elbows with New Wave or that I was still a relatable teenager that goes to parties like other teenagers. And on top of that, if Victoria's Ward friends were here, they would go back and tell their bosses that I showed up and was the picture of cordially.

But in all that reasoning, I forgot one of the reasons I disliked the idea of parties. I didn't like any of these people.

I walked around a bit, looking for something to be interested in. Video games weren't my thing. No way I was playing Twister or getting in the pool. There was no one I was interested in talking to, or even knew enough to be able to start a conversation with. No places to sit that weren't filled with overly affectionate couples. I felt a familiar uncomfortable feeling I hadn't felt in a long time.

"Taylor?" I heard. I turned to see Amy weaving her way through the crowd. "I didn't think you were coming."

I smiled awkwardly and held my hands out. "Well, I'm here."

"And you wore the suit and top hat," she observed. I shrugged. Not like I was fitting in here without it.

"I think I pull it off well enough."

Amy rolled her eyes. She paused and looked around, taking in the party around her.

"Do you…" Amy began awkwardly, "Want to go upstairs or outside or something. Somewhere, ah, less crowded and filled with Vicky's noisy friends?"

"So badly," I admitted with relief. Amy smiled.

"Follow me, then." She said, turning around. Well, maybe I could actually enjoy this party a bit.

I was walking through town later that night, in an area with a lot of construction going on. It was one of the few times I wasn't wearing anything distinctive. Just my normal baggy pants and a sweatshirt. Well, that and a pair of gloves.

I rounded a corner and found two muscular men waiting for me. One was holding out a phone to me. I took it and held it up to my ear as the two men started walking and I followed them.

"Hello, Taylor," Coil said cooly over the phone.

"Hello," I responded, matching his tone. "I hear from my realtor that the building I just bought had a bit of money left behind in it."

"Very true," he responded. "And you will receive the last quarter portion of the money when you are aware of when you will be hitting the ABB and how and let me know."

"Just as planned," I stated dryly.

"Indeed. When you round the corner up here you will come to a door. That should provide sufficient access for you when you are ready to get started."

I nodded, figuring if he knew what corner I was about to round he probably had a way to see me. The two men lead me to a door just as described. I nearly lost my breath when I laid my hand on it and felt the sheer scope of what laid behind it. That, and the Tinker tech involved in the ventilation systems and other small things.

"How long do you expect to take?" Coil asked.

"A few hours, at least," I answered. "But before I really begin, I have to ask you something."

"Go ahead."

"What is your goal for Brockton Bay? You clearly have money and a good degree of influence and connections. That makes you different from the other gangs, so what are you aiming for."

Coil chuckled. "Why, the same thing as you, Taylor. I want to fix this city."

"Hmm," was all I said in response as I began improving what I could only imagine to be Coil's lair.

Somehow, I doubt our images for the city matched all too closely. But that was a problem for the future.

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Threadmarks 20: Control New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 12, 2018

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#47

"I won't do it," Squealer stated. Her head hung low and refusing to look at me. I tapped my cane thoughtfully on the ground while she took a shaky pull from her cigarette.

She was sitting down in front of a table where I had gathered all the things she put on her list of stuff she would need to complete the little project I had her working on. I was standing on the other side, the only person in the room.

"And why is that?" I asked. Squealer laughed nervously.

"Why? Like you don't fucking know. Y-you take off Skidmark's hand, destroy the Merchant's in a single move, ruin my life, lock me in a basement, take my drugs, and put me to work like some fucking slave or some shit." She faltered near the end, waving her hand around before taking another drag. I sighed.

"I know it seems like I have only taken things from you Squealer," I began. "But I want you to know, I've also given you things."

"Like what?" She asked bitterly. I cocked my head at her.

"Did Skidmark treat you kindly?" I asked. "Did he ever hit you, or yell at you? Force you to do things you didn't want to do? Did he ever take drugs from you?" I don't know which one of those hit home, but I saw on her face that she was reacting. Good.

"I made a mistake when we first met Squealer. I was angry, and Skidmark wasn't exactly being patient. But how I treated you needs some apologizing, so I will. I'm sorry. But I would like you to see the bigger picture here. And not the bigger picture for me, I mean for you.

"For a start, there won't be any Skidmark anymore. Secondly, while it may seem I'm keeping you on a short leash, I'm giving you more freedom that you probably had under Skidmark. I'll give you food, shelter, and funds. More money than you've seen before. After you're done with this project, I'll turn you loose to do whatever you would like to do. And like I said before, if you put a word in with Alson or any one of your guards, I'll schedule a trip for you to go anywhere in the city. Anything you want now, I can give it to you."

She looked up at me with the same nervous look in her eyes as before. "And if I want to leave."

I hesitated. I hesitated because I could make her stay. It was within my power to do, as were many things lately. And I needed her abilities badly. Yet, behind it all, there was still some niggling part of me that reminded me this was a human being, not just a resource to use as much as I was inclined to treat her like one.

"If that is what you want," I said. "Then as soon as you finish your work, I'll let you walk out of here no strings attached." I bit the inside of my cheek to refrain from adding another bit that popped into my head. A bit about how the PRT would pick her up the instant she set foot outside, or some other gang would kidnap her and use her. But I think I've made my point well enough.

"So I just got to get finished?" Squealer asked. I nodded. She opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off when my phone rang. I took it out and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Taylor, you've someone here to see you, up top," Alson's gruff voice stated. "Says her name is Emma Barnes."

I let out a frustrated sigh. "Take her to the roof in case I need to throw her off it. I'll be there in five." I hung up the phone and looked at Squealer. "I'm sorry, something has come up. I'll swing back around when you've made your choice." I spun on a heel and strode outside.

My dad was waiting for me on the other side of the room.

"Taylor, I think we need to talk." He said, falling into step beside me.

"We're talking now," I said. "Heading up to the roof, plenty of time to talk."

"Taylor, stop." He stopped walking. I turned towards him questioningly. "These last few weeks have been hectic, and I was on board at first but you don't talk to me."

"We just talked the other night on the roof," I protested. He shook his head.

"I know, that's how fast your moving. Look at everything you've gotten done since. Opening up the buildings, getting Squealer to start building that thing, getting people to stage a short-lived protest outside city hall. And that's just the things I know about." He gave me a strange defeated look. "I know you plan on attacking Lung again. And I know it's going to involve that thing in the basement. But you didn't tell me that. You didn't tell me when you subsumed the Merchants. You didn't tell me when you sent The Collector out to take down a dozen drug dealer in the area. And just last night, Emily Rockson deposited an extremely large sum of money into your account. She won't even tell me where it came from."

He raised his hands a little and let them drop at his side. "I want to help you, Taylor. I want to be a part of what you're doing because I know you can help a lot of people. But frankly Taylor, the last couple days you've been scaring me. You've shooting all around town, making deals, plans, and public appearances at breakneck speeds. And you only come home to sleep and eat, if you eat at all. That doesn't mention how you talk to people. Before all this, I barely saw you talk to someone when I invited them into the house. But now you bounce from person to person saying just what you want them to hear like it's second nature. I hear you in there, talking to Squealer. Convincing her Skidmark was the evil one and you were the one offering her some kindness by kidnapping her. I just... " He faltered as he got to his point. I rested my hands on my cane and sighed.

"Maybe you're right. Recently, I've kind of been focused on getting back at Lung, but I haven't completely forgotten why I'm doing this. But there is so much to get done and so many people standing in my way. I've broken out the gate when no one expected me and used every tool in my belt to get the advantage as fast as I can. And I've got to press every advantage I've got, because there is still a whole city out there that needs to be helped. To be restructured."

"I never thought you forgot about all the people you're going to help Taylor," my dad said, softing. "I just… I worry about you. You've lost a lot of weight and I barely see you when it's not in regards to the work your doing. And when you don't tell me things, I get more worried."

"Plausible deniability," I said. "I don't even tell the other because-"

"Taylor, I'm your father. If you can't trust me, you can't trust anyone."

I paused, and picked up my phone.

"Alson," I said. "Send Emma home, I'm taking the day off. If she really needs to see me, she can do it tomorrow at school."

"If you say so," Alson said wistfully. I hung up the phone and smiled at my father.

"Well? Let's head home. You'll make popcorn, I'll explain my dastardly plan to take over the city, fun stuff."

He smiled. "Sounds good, kiddo."

Unfortunately, sometimes life just doesn't want to let me have some time with my father. We arrive home to find our door broken down. We walked inside and found the furniture along with the television. It looked like a bat had been taken to the cabinets. At first, I was shocked, but when I walked down stair a cold feeling sank into my stomach.

Someone had lit a fire only to put it out when half the stuff was burned. Intentionally destroying just enough to let me see what was left. And what I saw was a partially destroy scrapbook. One of my mothers.

"Dad," I said coolly. "Call some guys to take you to the apartment building. Don't go there yourself. And don't leave once your there. I want you to take the money that has appeared in my accounts and pay off the bank loan. I'll swing by when I'm done."

"What are you going to do."

"I don't know yet."

"Taylor, what about our conversation?"

I took a deep breath and sighed. "It was a nice sentiment while it lasted, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to take a rain check on that. It would have been nice just to hang out with you for a bit, but I'm suddenly reminded why capes wear masks. And also why New Wave gets away with it for the most part."

"Er, why is that?"

"Because they've proven themselves to be able to handle situations and don't make themselves enough of a nuisance to be bothered. Apparently, I haven't done enough of the former and too much of the latter. I need to even the scales."

Suddenly, my phone went off again. I answered it immediately.

"Taylor," a hushed voice said.

"Parian," I asked.

"There are people here." She said. "I've called the PRT but…" Her was drowned out as the cold feeling in my gut rapidly heated up to a boil. It was one thing to attack me, but to attack Parian just because we've had some dealings was another.

Someone else got pulled into a fight about me, and I wasn't going to let that stand.

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#58

There was no time to grab a costume. As much as I would have like to send The Collector or Clearcut out to crush these people, there was no time. So I stole some concrete out of the sidewalk and wrapped it around my body. I was able to run much faster this way, with the rock under the influence of my power letting my pump my legs harder and faster than they could on their own. Every stride took me several feet forward and left cracks in the sidewalk. I could have fixed them as I went or even hardened the ground beforehand, but I was focused on improving the rock around me for whatever resistance I encountered when I arrived.

When rounding a corner I needed the drag my fingers through the sidewalk to bring me to a stop fast enough to make the turn. A set of stone claws helped with that as I turned down the street Parian's shop was on.

The front window of the dinky little store was shattered inwardly. I stopped for a single second to listen. I heard some shouting and that was reason enough for me to dart inside, hopping through the broken window.

Three men carrying long rifles were in the main room, wearing Empire colours. Without hesitation, I attacked them. The first one I slammed my open palm into his chest before he even realized what was happening. The force was enough to send him into a wall. The second one pointed a gun at me, but before he could get a shot off I grabbed the barrel with a hand and slammed my concrete forehead into him. He went to the ground screaming in pain and slinging blood as he held his more than likely broken nose.

The third swore and shot at me before turning and running like hell. I let him go, not interested in him as much as I was in making sure they hadn't hurt Parian yet. I stormed towards the back of the store.

Burst through the door to find piles of fabric up in flames, including what appeared to be deflated stuffed animals. The room noticeably shook as a flare of anger shot through my veins. I ran through the burning room and towards the back door. I didn't bother opening it, electing to just rip through the wall.

"Holy shit," someone said. I rounded on the voice in time to see some guys slamming the back doors to an unmarked van close, letting me get a glimpse of Parian's costume inside. The driver of the van slammed on the gas and started to take off.

In one smooth motion, I used my power to launch me off the ground and dug my rocky fingers into the metal, ripping through it like it was nothing more than aluminium foil.

Inside, a guy was looking at me with wide eyes, holding a knife up to Parian's throat. I paused and very discreetly let my power spread through the van even as I sent out wires hidden inside my costume around. Good thing I never left home without them.

"N-now, stay back," The guy said. There were two others, pointing guns at me and looking uncertain. I tilted my head.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

"We don't know," one of the guys holding guns said.

"Yes, you do," I stated seriously. I had no clue that was true, but it might scare some answers out of them.

"We were set out to secure Parian," the guy holding a knife to Parian's throat said hastily. "We were told The Empire is collecting nonaffiliated capes. We're just one of a few teams sent out."

"Do you know of anyone sent out to break into a house in the Docks and destroy the property inside?" I asked.

"W-what? No!"

"Fine," I said with a huff. "Let her go now and no one gets hurt."

"Are you crazy? If we return without her Hookwolf will have our heads!"

"Do you have any idea who I am."

"N-no."

"... good." I closed my open palm into a fist and three severed hands fell to the floor. The brakes on the van engaged even as it began to fall apart at the seams. As the men started to react to their wounds and the fact they were now flying forward, I grabbed Parian and jumped out of the vehicle.

When I hit the ground I gave Parian a look over. She was bleeding a little, somewhere from beneath her clothes. The tips of her fingers were burned.

"Thank you," she breathed.

"Don't thank me yet," I stated before I turned and ran in the direction of New Wave, holding Parian as gently as I could.

"What happened," Panacea asked. She wasn't at her home when I arrived, but Glory Girl was more than willing to fly to the hospital really quick and grab her while Laserdream, who was apparently visiting at the time, helped me keep Parian stable. There was a bullet wound across her ribs. It didn't seem critical, but it was bleeding a lot.

"Empire attack," I answered sullenly, still wearing the concrete suit. "They were trying to kidnap her and force her into the gang, I'm pretty sure."

"That wouldn't have gone over well," Panacea murmured.

"But why were they doing it," Laserdream asked as she paced around the room. "And why were you there? And who even are you?" She looked pointedly at me. I thought for a moment.

"Call me The Marionette," I stated. I was about to say something else when a new voice joined the conversation.

"They were consolidating power," Brandish said, walking into the room and sounding none too pleased. "Classic behaviour for the gangs right before a major conflict. Try to absorb as many pieces into them so there are fewer variables when it comes time for the real fight." Brandish rounded on me. "Marionette, can I speak to you outside?"

I nodded and rose from where I had been sitting. Panacea remained silent as I walked out.

"I'm going to go out on a limb," Brandish said as soon as the door was closed. "And guess that, if you aren't just her, are at least employed by that Taylor Hebert?"

"Could be," I said evenly.

"Then you or her or whoever has a problem that needs to be cleaned up."

"And what is that?"

"The citywide gang war you are starting," Brandish replied bitterly. "You already saw the effect tonight, the ABB and Empire are preparing for a fight because of you."

"And?"

"And if you don't de-escalate the situation, then there will be a fight that consumes the city."

"And how do you propose my boss does that?"

"I don't care," Brandish said curtly, turning her body towards me. "You've got the money, the buildings, everything that is making the gangs do this. And if you weren't the only one who could use them to fix what you've started, I'd call in Glory Girl to take you to the Protectorate right now."

"Hmm," I hummed thoughtfully. "I need to make a phone call."

Brandish rubbed her forehead with a hand. She pointed at the door. "There is the way out. Unless for whatever reason you feel the need to stay and talk to Parian, you can go."

I nodded once and strode for the door. Of course, what was going through my mind right now was probably not what Brandish had in mind for defusing the situation.

If I was going to defuse things, the best way to do it would be by escalating things to such a degree the Empire would give up on trying to match it. Which brought me right around to my original plan, beating the king of escalation in a fist fight. Lung.

I stepped outside and called Alson.

"I need a timetable from Squealer," I stated once I was a good distance from the Dallon's house. "It doesn't need to be finished, just operational. How long?"

There was a pause on the other end, the sound of murmurs going back and forth.

"Four days at the earliest," Alson said. "Maybe one more, she doesn't know."

"Works for me," I hung up the phone and dialled a new number. Rockson picked up after two rings.

"How long would it take to purchase the Boat Graveyard?"

"The whole Boat Graveyard? Well, that's quite the tasks. I would need to-"

"Can you get it done in five days?" I asked. She paused.

"Yes. But not all as one thing. I will have to make up several aliases and buy it in segments and-"

"Sounds great. Get it done."

"But Taylor the Boat Graveyard is a lot of land. Even with the money from the-"

"Do your best, I'll talk to you more about it in the morning." I hung up the phone and re-dialled it again.

"Coil. Five days from now. Noon." I stated.

"Excellent," Coil said after a brief pause. "I wish you the best of luck. I'll be wiring the money shortly." I hung up the phone and walked to my apartment buildings feeling more than a little determined and angry.

I nearly dialled Parian as well, but stopped myself. I'll swing by in normal clothing and a car to pick her up and talk after I change. I suppose I had some apologizing I had to do. I made one more call.

"Dad," I stated. "It's almost time, I need a lot of men. Not just gunmen, but movers too. And trucks. Look around, find what you can. I'll give you the details later."

Last edited: May 18, 2018

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Threadmarks 22: Touching Base New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

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May 17, 2018

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#59

I knocked on the door to the room and waited quietly for Parian to answer, resting my hands on my cane in the meantime. The door opened a crack and Parian peek out at me through the gap. When she saw it was me she sighed. She opened the door a little wider and stepped aside to let me in.

"How are you?" I asked as I stepped inside. She closed and locked the door behind her.

"Fine." She stated, moving to sit on the large bed in the room. I had given her a place on the top floor of my building. Had a great view of all the crappy buildings around us. "I didn't have any serious injuries. And what I had Panacea fixed up."

"I meant how are you doing?" I asked. "It couldn't have been easy, being attacked like that."

Parian looked away. "I'm more annoyed than anything. I had done so good to stay out of things until now. I just…"

"It's my fault," I stated. "But I'm going to do my best and make it right. After I deal with Lung, I can make a statement saying you're under my protection. The Empire should back off after that. Or you can take me up on my offer."

"I didn't want to get involved at all," Parian stated, her tone taking a hint of sourness. She crossed her arms. "I just wanted to keep to myself and to my work because of this exact thing."

"Nothing I can do about that now," I stated. "But I can try to make things easier for you going forward. If you don't like any of that, I'm sure New Wave could protect you. Or the PRT, if you think you can trust them with that."

Parian shook her head. "I… I don't know right now. I need some time to think."

"Take all the time you need," I said, then paused. "Here is my phone number. Give me a call if there is anything you need." I drew a piece of paper and pen out of my hat and scrawled the number down before handing it to her. She seemed either baffled or amused when she took it with a nod. I nodded back and turned towards the door.

Now, to see how that machine was coming.

I unlocked the door to the basement and strode inside to see Squealer wiping grease off her hands, a cigarette dangling from her mouth. She glanced at me and look startled as I walked into the room.

"How is it coming along," I asked, keeping a neutral tone.

"Its, ah, nearly done." Squealer said uncomfortably. "Its ready to move on its own, but I need more time for the weapons."

"And what kind of weapons did you come up with?" I asked curiously as I started walking around the massive machine.

"Blades, mostly." Squealer stated. "I couldn't make bullets with what I had, and you didn't let me have materials for energy weapons. So blades is what you got."

I nodded. "Good." I doubted bullets would be any more effective than just punching him. At least then I was giving some impact force. Bullets would have to be exceptionally large, fast, or explosive to do any damage to that armour once he got going. Even the blades I would end up using I was more likely to use like hammers for the same reason.

"I've decided I want to leave," Squealer said. I turned toward her and gave her a look. It was disappointing, as I highly doubted this machine was going to survive what I planned on using it for. But I was happy she at least finished the machine.

"Alright," I said with a resigned tone. "When you finished up here, I'll come back and check it out one more time. Give it a final look over. Then you can go."

"Just like that?" Squealer asked suspiciously. I nodded.

"More or less. I'll give you some cash, a change of clothes, some food. I can have you escorted somewhere, considering the PRT is watching this building. And, if you ever need some work, you can come by again."

Before she could respond to that, I turned around and faced her machine with a smile.

"Now," I began, "Let's see how Tinkertech works, shall we?" I reached out and placed a hand on the outside of the machine.

Squealer's tech was... interesting to say the least. The engines were what I noticed first. When I gave Squealer the semi-truck engines I had given them a look over with my power first, just so I would have something to compare to. But the four engines she ended up needing didn't look anything like the engines from before. It felt like each component had been ripped from the others and rearranged, with more added on it. But just from what I could feel through my power, the structure of the engines were more… beefy I guess would explain it. I had anticipated it being more complicated, which it was in small part, but seemed her focus was taking what was there and making it more, not better.

When looking closer surprised to find microstructures in it. Not within the material like I could do, but the edges had been shaped on a very small scale, increasing the overall strength of the structure. Curious. With some leveraging of my power, I could really improve the structure inside, make the already beefy devices even higher.

I pulled back and looked at the design as a whole. Tried to find the lines of logic that ran through it. It was convoluted and a little more complex than a normal engine, but understandable after a time. My issue came to the computers.

I could feel a computer, even improve the ones Squealer put into to regulate the functions of her machines, considering the power and speed things would be firing off at. But coding was immaterial, as were energy pulses. And if I tried to mess with circuit boards or anything of the sort I risked ruining the electronics that were using them. It seemed the high tech computers and energy weapons were going to be outside the scope of my power. But the engines themselves weren't. I just need to find something that could stand in place of computers.

Although, now that I considered it. If I recreated engines like Squealer's I would run into many other problems. Not in the least that dealing with diesel and batteries were expensive. Not to mention the might be able to trace any part of the engines back to me, considering how loud they were likely to be when they started. They would be easy to follow back to me.

I could make a reasonable ripoff of Squealer engines, or I could make something new. Something complex enough to skip computers but could perform the same task as engines. Something that, ideally, would only need the manipulation of my power to move, stopping anyone else from using it.

I smiled. A few ideas popped into mind.

"Is it… good enough?" Squealer asked awkwardly. I blinked and withdrew my hand from the surface of the machine.

"It'll do," I stated. "Of course, once you're done I'll make some adjustments of my own. Add some armour layers and so on. But it's good, thank you."

Squealer nodded and turned to grab some tools. I strode back out of the room. Just another day or two and then things around here would change.

Last edited: May 18, 2018

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Threadmarks 23: PRT pt.1 New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

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May 17, 2018

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#60

"...So get the situation under control, or I will send someone in to get it controlled."

"I understand," Piggot responded into the receiver of the phone, tapping her fingers on the desk rapidly.

"Good." The person on the other end hung up. Piggot lowered her phone and let out a tense sign. She reached forward and pressed a button her desk, activating the microphone.

"Armsmaster, Commander Macison, come in." She let go of the button as the door of her office opened, Armsmaster and the PRT senior striding through it. Piggot picked up a pen and grabbed it between her two hands, twisting on it idly as she forced herself to remain calm.

"I just received a phone call," she stated sourly. "Telling me that the ownership of nearly all of the Boat Graveyard has suddenly transferred ownership to Taylor Hebert. Either of you care to explain that?"

"I'm sorry," Commander Macison said, taking his hat off. "We were sure her expansion would radiate out from her current properties. We were looking at that neighbourhood and didn't notice ownership trading hands in the Boat Graveyard."

"No one has cared about that section of the city for years," Piggot said pointedly. "You mean to tell me none of the people you put in charge of keeping a watch on the girl noticed when," Piggot glanced at a piece of paper in front of her, "fifteen different people purchase sections of the land before transferring it all to the girl?"

"We didn't," Macison said, lowering his head.

"And I suppose you didn't gather anything when camped outside her building."

"No. The fumigation tents prevented us from being able to see anything until she was done."

Piggot pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment then looked at Armsmaster. "Any luck on your end?"

"Unfortunately, no. I've been chasing down leads in regard to The Merchants. But even if we could confirm what Skidmark had told us, it wouldn't help us in any way. Wouldn't look good in court and he was trespassing. We picked up Mush, but he's not talking. There has been no sign of Squealer. Interrogation of the drug dealers that have been forced out of the territory turned up nothing. Only The Collector, which what minute scans I manage to capture of his brief appearances have turned up nothing."

"Damn it," Piggot said under her breath. "We need to get this girl on something. Just one damn thing so the PTP codes no longer apply to her."

"Well," Armsmaster began. "At least some of the boats in the graveyard did once belong to the city. We can wrap them up in red tape, so when she clears them out for whatever project she is planning we can step in."

"If I may," Macison said, stepping forward. "Can I ask why it is so important we bring her in? I was under the impression we were supposed to support rouges."

"When they are insignificant like Parian and willing to play by the rules," Piggot said sternly. "She's never come in for certification, and she doesn't need to so long as she keeps her charade up. We have no idea what her power is, what its limitations are or anything of the sort. For all we know, she could be preparing to affect the whole damn city with her power. And if that does happen and she takes control of Brockton Bay we're doubly screwed because we can't condemn the city while she is still inside."

Piggot took several deep breaths and tried to relax herself. Macison spoke again while she did so.

"Damn," he stated. "How does a teenager become this successful so fast?"

"Her help," Armsmaster replied. "Specifically that of Emily Rockson."

"Who?"

"Daughter of one of the men that used to work for Marquis. Before she filled her father's shoes after his death, she used her qualifications as a nurse to volunteer her time at the hospital's ICU of infants."

"How is that relevant?"

"Because," Piggot said, tapping her pen against the table. "ID farming. We believe, though could never actually prove, that she was watching for young children to die and then raising their IDs to use as nearly foolproof alisis. She files their taxes, sends them to schools, runs there lives for years. When she needs a quick land buyer, she has an ID for that. When she needs something inspected, she has a qualified ID for it. Along with everything in between. This is a theory of course because proving it is a massive pain and expensive to boot."

Piggot rubbed her eyes. She hadn't been getting a great amount of sleep before, let alone with all the stress and work this brung up.

"What else?" Piggot asked. "There has to be some other tactic we can take while we wait for her next move."

"Not much to do unless you can get the courts to allow us to bug the building or something of the sort," Macison stated. "We could-"

"No, forget it," Piggot said with a wave of her hand. "We've got a bigger problem. Even bigger than this girl."

"The gangs," Armsmaster stated seriously.

"Indeed." Piggot paused. "Is anyone on patrol right now?"

"Assault is doing a guided patrol with Clockblocker and Miss Militia is also out."

"Whoever scheduled Assault and Clockblocker on the same patrol is fired," Piggot said darkly. "Call everyone else to the Ward's wing in," Piggot glanced at the time. "Twenty minutes. I want everyone there, I don't care who they are or how sick they're pretending to be. If they wear colourful suits they're in that room."

"Right away," Armsmaster said with a nod. Macison nodded as well before doing an about face and leading the way out. Piggot turned around and looked out her window. From where she was sitting, she had a clear shot across the rooftops over the bay. If she looked carefully, she could just see one side of Taylor's buildings peeking around the other buildings around it.

Piggot's eye twitched. She needed a way to control that girl.

"What we see here is very concerning," Piggot stated, pointing at a map of the city. Every Protectorate member and Ward was here and attending. Each one looking attentive at her and the screen. Piggot pressed forward.

"Over the last five days, we've seen the disappearance of thirteen independent capes across the city. We know from New Wave that before Parian disappeared, the Empire had attempted to forcibly recruit her. We can easily assume the other thirteen went in similar ways. Right now, we don't know how much either the Empire or the ABB is willing to compromise on their race views to get more firepower. But time will tell."

Piggot pointed across the city. "Here, we've seen the Merchant territory shrink and round off, but become increasingly stable. The normal up and down of drug flow and use is gone, having remained steady for more than a week. Based on what we know, we can say this is because Taylor has taken control. Which fits, considering her home operation is, until further notice, here." Piggot pointed at a golden circle in the middle of the Merchant's territory of the Docks.

"Groups like Uber and Leet, Faultline, and the recent upstarts called the Undersiders, have gone quiet for the time being. Either they have sided with one of the major groups or are trying to avoid the fight altogether. Over the last five days, gang crime has dropped dramatically. So it is abundantly clear to us now that a large scale fight is coming."

Piggot turned to everyone. "For the next two weeks with a possible extension, there will be double patrols for everyone, with an exception to our team Tinkers. You will be working nearly around the clock to create devices to help in the fight."

She turned back and pointed at the map. "When the fighting breaks out, we expect most of it to be directed at the girl, Taylor, and then at stealing territory from each other. And since the Boat Graveyard was just recently purchased by Taylor, we will be focusing our efforts there.

"Protectorate patrols will be focused here, here, and here." Piggot pointed at the three places where Taylor's territory meet either Empire or ABB territory. "Since the Boat Graveyard is in ABB territory, that's where we expect the fighting. Wards, your will follow normal patrols routes. If there is a gunfight between human gang members, it will be your job to stop it. When it comes to cape fight between gangs, you need to call a Protectorate member to handle it. Now-"

Suddenly the wall phone ten feet from the monitor she was referring to at started to ring. She walked over and answered it immediately.

"Director Piggot speaking." She stated sternly.

"Director," a hurried voice on the other end said. "We've got a situation in the Boat Graveyard. It's The Collector."

"Do you have cameras on him?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Armsmaster," Piggot called, lowering the phone. The hero nodded and pressed some buttons in the arm of his suit. The monitor displayed changed. Every one of the Wards gasped a little when they saw it.

"Is that…" Vista began.

"I think so," Aegis said seriously. Piggot stared at the monitor, her blood pressure rising precipitously as her anger finally boiled over.

On the screen, something the matched the Collector's description was standing in the Boat Graveyard, except for a few details. The first being the fact that The Collector looked to be about twenty feet tall. The second being the metal tank tracks along his feet and massive engine exhaust pipes extending out of each limb. Exhaust pipes that were releasing large amounts of black smoke that gathered around The Collector in a thick cloud.

"Luuuuuuung," the metal giant said slowly. Piggot's gaze hardened even more when Oni Lee suddenly appeared on The Collector's shoulder and set off a grenade. A grenade that did little to harm the monster. But if Oni Lee was there, that meant Lung was getting ready somewhere else.

"Get out," Piggot said, forcefully quiet.

"Come again ma'am," the guy on the other line asked.

"I said get out of there!" Piggot shouted in frustration before hanging up the phone violently. She whirled on the all the capes in the room.

"I wanted everyone out there right now! Wards, clear the people out of the area. Protectorate, I want you to contain the situation. And more importantly, I want eyewitness reports when Lung rips that self-absorbed and reckless little girl out of that tin can!"

Without another word, everyone in the room darted for the exits. Except for Armsmaster, who calmly walked past Piggot and said,

"I don't think that plan with the boats is going to work after today."

Piggot glared at him.

Last edited: May 17, 2018

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Threadmarks 24: The Dragon New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 17, 2018

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#61

I checked my watch. Twenty minutes to go.

I had been attempting to swat Oni Lee away for about five minutes now. When his normal grenades didn't work he tried uping it to more explosive stuff, like a block of what I presumed to be C4. But the outer armour was a foot thick and under the direct influence of my power. There wasn't going to be much more than some denting.

I wanted to wait a little longer, to give Squealer all the time she needed to complete this so Lung didn't immediately destroy it. But that was going to happen anyway. I was getting into a slugging match with the one person that is the absolute worst person to do that with.

I was still going to win though.

My thoughts were cut off when a fireball came out of nowhere and struck the suit, doing little more than heating the outside. I smiled. Lung had finally come out to play.

The Anti-Lung Suit, as I had called it, was actually only one part Squealer's work. I had no hope at all Squealer could make something that could even last five minutes in the fight, let alone the thirty total minutes I needed.

Instead, I had tasked Squealer to make humanoid assault mech of sorts, closer to vehicle than robot just to make it easier on her power. Whatever the specifics of that are. The catch was that the robot she made could be piloted by the normal Collector suit, as it was right now.

I had used my power and smoothed over Squealer's creation, making it much stronger than it was before and adding armour plating. And on top of all that, I encasing the final product in another massive armour layer, in the same style as the original Collector suit except with some adjustments for Squealer's robot.

In short, I was about to hit Lung with three super structured layers built for the sole purpose of keeping him pinned for the next… eighteen minutes.

My, how time moves when you're waiting for one of the city's largest threat to come out and face you. I smiled to myself.

At first, I couldn't find Lung. I was scanning all the buildings in front of me before I realized if he was large enough to come at me then none of these building were going to hold him.

The water, I realized.

I turned just in time to see him take his first steps out of the water in into the Boat Graveyard, his armoured body scraping against rusted boats as he made his way. He was standing about ten feet tall now, making him short in comparison to my suit. Fully plated, wreathed in fire. Footlong claws on each hand and a neck that was becoming increasingly elongated.

If he had anything to say, he didn't. I didn't even know if he could speak with his mouth twisted and strange like it was. But then again, neither could I right now.

He leapt towards me with a flare of fire and a metallic roar erupting from his throat. I took one step back and punched his whole body into the ground with the suit's massive arm. Now things would get interesting.

Moments after being sent crashing into the ground by my fist, he was moving. His claws dug into my metal fist as he slowly leveraged his strength to lift up my arm. Before he could lift enough to squirm out, I lifted my fist and grabbing him by his arm with my other hand.

His whole body flared up with fire instantly, reaching a heat enough to weaken my armour in seconds. He let out another roar as he dug his claws into my hand as I attempted to lift him up, ripping out red hot chucks from the palms. I let him go before he could rip any more pieces of the arm out, but before he hit the ground, I aimed a kick at him that hit hard enough to dent the metal in my foot.

He flew about twenty feet, his massive weight stopping him from going forward any further. He crashed through the hull of an old freight ship, the metal crumpling and bending in around him and starting to melt nearly instantly. The damage got worse as he grabbed the edges and dragged himself to his feet. He was taller now, his legs more angled to be like an animal. I could hear him growl when he charged forward. I locked my hands together and brought them down on his head right before he slammed into me.

He stopped running and caught my hands in by the wrists in with his claws, wrapping them in flames as he pulled me forward. I was off balance for a second, something he leveraged when he drove his shoulder into me. When it became clear I was falling over, I latched onto him and dragged him down with me.

When the back of my suit slammed into the ground I quickly rolled over and put the full weight of the suit on top of Lung. Now, with him pinned, I drove a fist into his face with one hand before repeating with the other hand. Each time the fist connected there was an explosive clang of my metal against his armour. Lung, now seemingly only capable of roars and growls, roared again before suddenly shifting his weight. I found myself surprised when he managed to actually throw me off him. I flew through the air for about a dozen feet before I hit the ground with a massive screech of metal. I quickly climbing to my feet and turned to face him.

Lung was a lot closer to my size now, more than I was comfortable with. His torso and neck were much longer than they were before, and I thought I might have seen the beginning of wings. Huh, so the rumours were true.

I checked myself over. The part of the suit that had gotten in contact with Lung while I had him pinned were dripping molten metal on to the ground. Well, I think with was time to kick this into high gear anyway.

Before Lung could make another move I reached down and ripped the out layer of leg armour off and threw it at his head. No matter how tall he was, massive chunks of metal flying at him at that speed was going to hurt.

He ducked under the first one, sending it careening into the waters of the bay. The second one though caught his throat, yanking him off his feet with the momentum of the foot-thick steel. The engines now exposed around the legs of the suit roared to life and the tank tracks kicked into gear.

I flew forward, a little unbalanced with how the tracks accelerated each step I took. But the effect was worth it, with many tons of steel crashing into Lung and flatting him against the ground. I took a few more steps after hitting him and crashed into something unexpected. A blue force field.

I quickly looked around and saw Armsmaster a good distance away, projecting a kind of force field through some sort of device. I didn't have any time to study it before Lung had popped up and grabbed me by the head.

Before I could react, massive claws were slamming my head against the shield again and again. I managed to raise my hands and brace myself against the shield. It took a second, but I swung around, throwing my arm at Lung's head. He caught it in red hot claw and clamped down.

I detached the outer layer of that arm before spinning all the way around and slamming my other fist into his body. Lung's body dove into the concrete and mud. I stepped on him once before jumping off his body to get some distance.

When he rose again, I was surprised to find him roughly the same size as before. I checked the time again. Not even at the ten-minute mark. I still had time to get him ramped up. The larger, the more intimidated everyone will be by the end of this. Which was good, because I still had some tricks I hadn't tried.

I removed the last remaining layer of outer armour, exposing the lightly armoured engines in each arm. I ripped off the helmet Lung had damaged by bashing it into Armaster's shield. Leaving only the thick torso armour to protect the final suit layer contained inside. The arm's engines billowed more smoke than before as long chainsaw like blades extended out the top of each arm.

Lung spread two pairs of wings and let out a roar before charging forward. I ran to meet him.

He tackled me in my torso, his claws ripping into the much lighter armour of Squealer's suit. I drove a chainsaw blade into his back and planted my feet on the ground, several metal prongs springing out and digging in to give me more grip. Even so, he drove me back several dozen feet, but didn't knock me over. The blade sparked against his armour, with each passing tooth of the saw dulling the blades before I quickly fixed them. But they suddenly and unexpectedly managed to punch through his plating. Lung reared backwards from the unexpected pain, and I grabbed him with both arms, flipping him over my head. I dropped to the ground, slamming down his body with my added weight. Before he could get back up, I planted a foot on him. Holding it still so the moving tracks sparked against his armour even as I focused on keeping the pins holding the tracks from melting away.

I reached out and grabbed a fistful of the nearest boat. It ripped apart as I pulled on it, but no matter. I took what I had and slammed it into Lung's face several more times.

Suddenly, flames exploded out of him with more force than before as he flexed his strength and tossed me off. I went flying again before rolling to a standing position. Lung still looked more human than dragon, but his face had long since twisted into something else.

I looked around me and saw the Boat Graveyard in shambles. Fires were burning all over the broken ships and pieces of me that had broken off or otherwise. I had done a good job at keeping the fight in this area. It wouldn't help anyone if other places got dragged in. Still, the amount of rampant destruction in just ten minutes of fight shocked me in small part.

Lung shot forward, his X-shaped mouth opening wide. I held up and arm to blocked it and drove a chainsaw blade into his stomach. It sparked and glanced off his armour. I swung the arm he was latched onto outward and threw him off. His teeth had damaged the engine, but not anything I couldn't fix. He hadn't hit the computers at all, so I only had to worry about keeping the fuel tanks away from his fire.

Or did I?

The next time he came at me I intentionally weakened the armour around the fuel tanks and let his jaws clamp down around it. It took a few seconds, but the arm exploded into a ball of flames and twisted metal that sent Lung reeling. I quickly separated the unstructured piece from the whole of my suit and stepped forward. I batted him into the ground with the remaining chainsaw blade and placed a foot on his chest before driving the blade into his chest the best I could. Just when it was starting to bite into the armour Lung surged upward, throwing me off and snapping the blade.

I was thrown off balance, which Lung took advantage of. He dove on top of me and began ramping up his heat while digging every claw his hand into the armour. His strange jaw locked around where the neck would be on the suit and attempted to tear into it. Instead of fighting him off, I grabbed on to him with all three limbs of the suit and weakened the fuel tanks again. Simultaneously, three different explosions went off, causing Lung to roar in pain as even his armour peeled open.

I separated the last layer from the burning wreckage and quickly ran from the area before the heat got enough to melt through the original Collector armour. It was thicker, larger, and even more structured than the one that fought Lung before, but still very much like the original.

It was time to let him wind down.

I ran The Collector suit behind some ships that manage to retain most of their body and hid for a moment. I keep the suit as still as possible, wanting him to look for as long as I could manage.

Lung came out of the fire roaring, then fell silent. I could feel the remains of the abandoned layer of my suit being clawed through as Lung presumably looked for me.

Good, I thought, let him waste his time.

After more than a minute he started moving around rapidly. Tearing through what little ships in the area there still were. Somewhat amusingly, he went all the way around before turning and spotting me. He shot forward instantly, charging at full speed. I waited until the last second before jumping out of the way. He managed to hit my foot briefly, sending me into a spin as he barreled past. But I quickly recovered and went to hide again.

He managed to find me quicker this time and scratched through the front of my chest. But once again I managed to slip away when he shot past me. Then we did it all over again.

I checked the time. It was past the thirty-minute mark, but I hadn't gotten the signal. I frowned. I need to buy more time.

The next time when Lung found me, I sized him up again. It seemed like the hiding technique was having some effect. His wings were shrinking, he body was getting smaller. Not quite where I liked it but heading in that direction.

I stomped my foot into the ground as a little bit of unnecessary fanfare. At the same time, I spread my power out to the nearby boats and set myself to tearing apart their structures as fast as I could. Nearly instantly, fine dust began blowing everywhere. But even with my ability to rip structures apart being much faster than it was to improve them, I couldn't make enough dust to get the effect I need. Not yet anyway.

The next time he shot forward, he grabbed onto my arm and wouldn't let it go. So I let him tear the whole thing off when he started pulling me off the ground with it. He went rolling, so I took the opportunity and ran the suit toward the last remaining ship that could still fit The Collector inside. I ducked into it and quickly made a metal shield around me out of its corpse. Then set myself to making it as strong as I could.

Once again, it took Lung a moment to find my hiding spot. But when he did, he didn't seem content on just ripping it open. He applied heat. Lots of it. He was trying to cook me.

For two agonizing minutes I felt the heat and pressure build up inside when I decided the suit just wouldn't tolerate it anymore. I ripped apart all the structure around me as fast as I could. This time, I got the dust cloud I was looking for. And all the heat from both Lung and the fire's he caused carried that dust everywhere. Blinding both him and me for a short time.

I was moving to the next hiding spot when my phone rang. I answered it immediately.

"Taylor," my dad said. "It's done."

"Fantastic," I stated. I lowered the barriers and walked The Collector suit out into the open.

"Inally ace me like mahn." Lung garbled through a mouth that was slowly warping into something more human. He was standing ten feet away, still wrapped in fire, but a lot closer to when he started the fight.

Instead of answering, I opened up the Collector suit and walked the concrete mannequin in the pilot's seat out in front of him. I willed a button on the massive speakers built inside the mannequin to be pressed, then drew back all the razor floss I had been using to puppet the suits and the mannequin back to where I was standing, on a building top close the Boat Graveyard.

"Dear Lung," the recorded voice of The Collector played. "If you are listening to this, that means you have lost. While you have been toying with one of Marionette's little puppets, I have stolen all your stuff. All over your territory me and my men have either taken or destroyed all your drugs, money, weapons, property, and men. By the time you hear this, you will have nothing left to your name. You are bankrupt. Now, tell the world, how does that feel?"

The recording cut off. Lung was frozen for a moment, then let out an angry roar before smashing the concrete stand-in to bits. I turned away, he was the Protectorate's problem now. I glanced back towards the building Oni Lee was sitting on, clutching the severed leg he had.

I finished drawing the wires back into the Clearcut costume and walked away. There was work to be done. With Lung taken care of, I can finally move to step five.

Last edited: May 24, 2018

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Threadmarks 25: PRT pt.2 New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 17, 2018

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#62

Piggot tapped her finger on her armchair rapidly. The Wards looked at each other nervously. She said she was only going to observe, but her outburst a few hours ago combined with the silent anger she was practically radiating was enough to make them nervous.

All other Protectorate members were attending as well, gathering in the Ward's room. Piggot wanted a debrief as soon as possible, which meant doing it all at once inside the Ward's room, since the PRT headquarters was closer and more accessible than the Protectorate base.

Armsmaster walked to the centre of the room and activated a large monitor on the wall. After producing a pen-like device, he demonstrated his ability to write on the monitor like it was a whiteboard before erasing what he had.

He turned back toward everyone.

"In light of recent events," he began. "We can no longer assume Taylor is the only active cape in her organization."

"We were assuming that before?" Assault asked. "I mean, I guess I can see how high-speed construction and mech suits are related, but it still seems a stretch."

Piggot shot a glare at him from where she was sitting, silencing him instantly.

"In the fight with Lung, we saw several powers that are inconsistent with that assumption. First, we at least know that if Taylor does have a power, it is touched based. There was no one inside the mech suit we had been assuming belonged to The Collector. Which lends credit to the identity of this Marionette first told to us by New Wave, then again in that recording."

"Couldn't it still be The Collector though?" Aegis put forward. "We don't know his power either, this could easily be a smokescreen to make us think Taylor has more capes than she does."

"It could be, but it's unlikely," Armsmaster said. "In the two events, I was able to get a scan of the Collector before he left the scene there has been a consistent thermal signature coming from inside the suit, which is why we initially thought The Collector could have been Taylor, because of the contact."

Armsmaster turned around and wrote the Collector on the board along with Marionette. Finally, he put down words 'glass girl'.

"Glass Girl?" Miss Militia asked, stepping forward. "I haven't heard of that one."

"Recent development," Armsamster answered, turning back towards her. "At first, it was a just a brief sighting in the Merchant's territory. No photo, just an eyewitness and nothing to move on. But multiple photos had been taken of her on top of a building, watching the fight with Lung."

"Actually," Clockblocker said, sitting up from where he had been lounging around on a couch. "She has a name."

"Explain," Piggot said sharply. Clockblocker paused.

"People were posting photos of her online and she started responding. She goes by the name Clearcut."

"Clearcut," Armsmaster repeated. "That certainly fits with what we have seen recently. Skidmark lost a hand with a very clean cut and his description of events, however questionable and contradictory it is, mentioned there being no warning or evidence of anything cutting through him. Same for the Empire members we picked up from outside Parian's store. Each missing a hand with very clean cuts with no warning. Then we have Oni Lee, who lost a leg during the fight. His injury is the only thing he has spoken about thus far, mentioning not even realizing it was happening before it happened."

"So what?" Dauntless asked, stepping forward. "Are we assuming she has some sort of invisible blade?"

"Given her ability to strike without being near, unlikely," Armsmaster replied evenly. "I was leaning toward some sort of mental projection or similar."

"So what are we going to say for each of them?" Aegis asked. "I assume you have some sort of power listing."

"I do," Armsmaster started with a nod. He turned back to his board and started writing. "Collector, Tinker. Able to make heavily armoured and workable suits with a limited amount of technology at his disposal. Marionette, able to control humanoid puppets out of inorganic material, most likely. And Clearcut, psychic blades of one kind or another." He finished writing and turned back.

"There is a possibility for a fourth cape," he stated. "The dust that blocked our vision briefly could have easily been yet another cape, but without any other supporting evidence I won't add it to the notes."

"And that's not counting whatever ability Taylor actually has," Gallant stated. "There is no way she doesn't have something. With everything that has happened recently, I wouldn't be surprised if she had a Thinker ability."

"What makes you think that?" Piggot asked, turning her head toward him. Gallant shrank a little.

"Ah, just that she managed to pull together a decently structured organization in a very short time. If she had a Thinker ability that made her more efficient in a way that helped, it would make sense."

Piggot nodded. "Add it to the board." Armsmaster did so.

"Anyone else think it's weird to not call her by a cape name?" Vista asked. Everyone looked at her. She shrugged. "It just feels a little weird to call her by a normal name."

"Well," Clockblocker began. "The internet has fixed that too. The PHO has dubbed her 'Chancellor Taylor'."

"Really?" Vista asked dryly.

"I'm serious," Clockblocker insisted. "She even made an account and started responding to people, look." He held out his phone to her, which Vista took and started scanning through.

"All that aside," Miss Militia began. "What about everything else, besides this, er, Chancellor Taylor."

"We are not calling her that," Assault stated. "It sounds so dumb."

"She walks around with a top hat and cane," Battery murmured to him. "I think it sounds exactly like something she would get behind."

"Lung," Armsmaster started, getting attention back on him. "He rampaged for five minutes following The Collector's deception. But as you all should know by now, we managed to arrest him and Oni Lee when he attempted to escape, my sedatives managing to take him out of his enrage state once he got to a certain level. Now we have to deal with the issue of his territory."

Armsmaster pressed some buttons on his arm and the screen changed to show a map of all of the Docks.

"Over the next few days, we expect the Docks to be a hotbed of crime while people move in to fill out the power vacuum. We need to be on top of this, especially if any of Taylor's capes show up. If they are her's at all of course."

"And one more thing," Piggot said standing up. "At all costs, we need to stop The Collector before he has a chance to make that suit again. We got lucky this time. It was likely rushed, very simplistic, and Lung managed to destroy it. But if The Collector is allowed to make a new one, one bigger or better than the last in the most likely scenario, then we are going to have a bigger problem on our hands. If you see The Collector, pursue with extreme prejudice. We need to stop this before it blows completely out of control. Taylor has, unfortunately, become less of a concern by comparison."

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Threadmarks 26: Delagation New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 21, 2018

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#72

I slid into my office chair and moved in front of my new desk. My office was on the top floor of my main building, which was doubling as the place my father and I were staying until further notice. Alson, Powell, Rockson, and my father were all here. And all three of them were smoking, as usual.

"Rockson," I said. "About the former Boat Graveyard, which would be more cost-effective. Hiring a construction company to develop the area or handling it myself."

"A construction company easily," Rockson stated. "The site of the Boat Graveyard still needs a lot of rubble from your fight removed and any buildings you put in will need everything from new foundations and otherwise."

"On the other hand," my dad cut it. "You could employ half of all the Dockworkers if you start developing the entire area, or even just a small portion at a time."

"Very true," I said with a nod. I like the idea of employing more Dockworkers anyway. I had watched my father struggle for years to get jobs for them, and it was ground zero for other gangs hiring muscle. This way, I better support the city, gain more support from the already loyal Dockworkers, and take away the incentive for more people to join other gangs.

"It will be very expensive," Rockson stated.

"It will be expensive no matter what I do," I stated.

"Then a middle ground," Rockson said. "I can get you a great deal with Coil's construction company. They'll come, clear the area, lay the groundwork, and bring the raw materials. Then you hire Dockworks to take it the rest of the way."

"Hm." I tapped my finger on the desk with one hand and twirled my cane in the other. I hadn't known about Coil's construction company, but I wasn't surprised either. I bet he owned a lot of companies Rockson was aware of. Something to keep in mind.

"Get me some price estimates," I said.

"Right away. Do you have any idea how many buildings you want to put in the area?"

"Not buildings. Building."

Everyone in the room looked a little shocked at that for a moment. Then Alson grinned widely. Rockson nodded, a smile growing on her face as well, and turned to leave the room.

"I'll start looking into it," she said just before stepping out the door.

"You're going to need permission from the government to build," Powell told me. "I can start the process, but I'll need details on the building."

"All right here," I answered swiftly, opening the top drawer and pulling out a thick stack of papers. "I've been working on this for a while. Do what you need to do to get this done."

"Absolutely," he answered, taking the papers from me and leafing through briefly. "And here are the employment forms you requested." He opened his suitcase and presented a stack of papers several inches thick to me. I smiled and took them from him.

"Thank you," I stated happily. Powell nodded and turned to walk out the same as Rockson. I looked at Alson and smiled.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," he said, limping up to my desk with a few sheets of paper. He laid them out in front of me, gesturing to each as he explained them. "The statement released to the press following the unfortunate fight on your recently acquired property. The time of your press conference tomorrow morning. And the statement released to all your men and the former ABB goons that have been hanging around."

"Thank you very much," I said, scooping them up and looking them over. "Speaking of ABB goons, send them in on your way out."

Alson nodded and started hobbling out. I spun my chair to look at my father and grinned, grabbing hold of my cane and holding my hands out a little. As if asking how I was performing. He raised an eyebrow.

"Moving a little fast aren't you?" He asked. "You haven't even counted the money and drugs you've stolen from the ABB. Already looking to hire more men and construct a massive building over the remains of the Boat Graveyard? I know the PRT is going to reimburse you for the damages to your property, but I don't think you have the funds for that project."

"I have to move fast," I stated simply. "Lung was arrested about... three hours ago. If the Empire is going to make a move, they'll make it tonight. And if I can bring the old ABB members into the fold before then, that is one less problem I need to worry about. They know the area, have clashed with Empire before, and know the rates of the protection racket the ABB was running."

"Why do you need to know that?" He asked cautiously. I smiled.

"So I can protect them. I won't extort them of their money, but if they would like some real protection, I'll offer it."

"But you're not going to protect them otherwise," he asked, frowning. I paused.

"It depends. I wouldn't want the Empire coming into my territory, so of course, I would never let them come in after a person. But those that pay will be protected from all threats, whatever that may be. The difference comes in that I don't charge protection from me."

At that moment, five rough looking men came into the room. All senior members of the ABB. I turned and smiled at them.

"I take it you are speaking for the ABB members?" I asked.

"We've come to listen to your offer." The one leading the group said, his arms crossed. "But we promise nothing. We will pass your words on."

"Alright," I stated, rising out of my chair. I started to walk around the desk. "Here is my pitch. Join my organization and protect your homes." Coming around to the front of my desk, I grabbed a few sheets of paper off it.

"Filling out this document will technically make you a Dockworker, after my father here approves it. I need construction workers, movers, drivers, appliance repairmen, cleaning services, and various other skills in my business. Whenever I need a job done, you'll be on the call list to receive an honest pay."

"And in the meantime, we are part of your gang," the man said, his tone flat. I smiled and said nothing. He looked at his friends and shook his head once, they echoed it. I took that opportunity and spoke further.

"Later tonight, the Empire will undoubtedly push into this territory. They'll take everything they can. I will do everything within my power to stop them, but every man that joins me will help in keeping your families and homes safe from the white supremacy group. I'm not going to force anyone into joining, like Lung did to you. But know what the risk is if the Empire isn't repelled."

That seemed to catch the lead man off guard. He considered silently for a few moments while the four that came with him spoke in hushed tones in languages I didn't understand.

"We'll pass along your offer," the man finally said, hushing those that came with him. "I suspect though many of us will take you up on your offer."

"Excellent," I stated with a nod. He returned my nodded and turned around. He and the other four moved to follow him. As soon as they were gone, I chuckled to myself.

"Clever move," Dad said simply.

"Yep," I stated. "Now, I need to tell my Lords about the new customer base before suiting up for tonight. Better to crush the Empire early on."

"Don't stay out too late," my father said with a smile as he rose out of his chair. "You've got school tomorrow."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Dad."

I watched about twenty Empire members comb through the two neighbouring streets they had spread themselves across. There weren't any capes with them, not that I blamed them too much. I had just held off Lung in a fist fight, they should be nervous to send their capes into my territory. For all they know, I could make another one of those suits at any time, even though I no longer had Squealer at my disposal.

But that made it all that more important that I made sure they never figured that out.

I waited for them to walk a little deeper into my territory before I made my move. I yanked my hand back and ripped the guns out of their hands with more than a dozen wires stretched across the block. They let out some shouts, and one of them gave orders for them to move. I moved my other hand slightly backwards and severed fingers started hitting the ground.

Immediately following a dozen people, mixed of Dockworkers and former ABB that were eager to take my offer, stormed out of the buildings and started moving around them. I counted fifteen seconds between my men circling them and their situation registering with them. My guys put guns to their heads and told them to stop moving. The compiled and the street fell silent again.

I stretched out my wires to nearby buildings while wrapping them around my hands and arms. In a few seconds, I had an invisible network of webs spread out to all the nearby buildings. Then I leapt off the building I was standing on, lowering myself carefully with the wires.

I touched on the ground and walked up to the subdued men slowly. To their credit, none of them seemed particularly scared of me. No, they were more interested with the guns pointed at their faces. Which was interesting, considering all of them were missing fingers which had to be painful.

"Which one of you is in charge?" I asked. They remained silent. "Alright," I said with a frown. "Then I'll start with you and work my way around." I turned on the one nearest to me. A young guy, probably pressured to join out of high school. Blond hair, triangular face. Something of a pretty boy.

Shame.

I gently drew a wire across his cheek, the moonlight glinting off it in places. His eyes widened as a wound opened up on his cheek and he began to bleed. He opened his mouth slightly but didn't say anything. I tilted my head at him. Then my finger twitched.

The wire slid down the side of his face from where it was inside the cut it had made, cutting away a layer of skin and leave a clean wound the size of my palm on his face. It took a moment for the pain to register before his started screaming. I looked at the others.

"Who's next?" I asked.

"It's him," one of the people shouted, pointing to an older man near the back. Past middle-aged, unshaven, stern expression. I nodded and gestured to my men.

"Bring him here."

The ABB members moved forward without hesitation, grabbing the guy and dragging him to me. He looked away, refusing to meet my eyes.

"I won't tell you anything." He stated.

"Then I won't ask you anything." I looked at my men still holding on to him. "Break his kneecaps."

The guy's eyes widened and he started to protest, but I moved past him. This guy had made his choice to stay in the E88. I had no sympathy for him.

"Take this message back to your boss," I told the others as the guy now behind my began to struggle against the three holding him down. "If you come into our territory I will cut you," My fingers twitched and cuts appeared on several of their cheeks. "I will skin you, and I will break you." The sentence was punctuated with a sickening cracking sound followed by agonized screaming.

"Now, get out of here," I said. My men pulled away and Empire members got to their feet and ran, not looking back. I glanced at the man they left behind.

"Call him an ambulance and let's go."

Last edited: May 23, 2018

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Threadmarks 27: To Save the Bay New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 21, 2018

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#73

"Busy week?" Amy asked, walking up to me to where I sat on the roof.

"Something like that," I answered vaguely, not looking up from all accounting I was doing.

"Well, you haven't been coming up to the roof for lunch, and I couldn't find you in the lunchroom."

"You noticed, I'm flattered," I answered dryly. "I was in the library doing some intensive work. Lots to get done when you own multiple buildings."

"I bet. How did you get food into the library?"

"I didn't, wasn't hungry."

"Hmm." She sat down next to me and opened her lunch box. "Congrats on the fight with Lung by the way. Very clever."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course not. The PRT sent New Wave information they decided on about you."

"Really?" I asked, looking up and raising an eyebrow at her. Amy held up a blue slip of paper, giving me a more amused expression.

"Apparently, you've got upwards of three capes possibly working for you, Chancellor Taylor."

"Neat." I gave a wry smile.

She paused for a minute as she tore into her food. I nibbled a little on the pizza I had, but mostly focused on the numbers. The Lords had already sold most of every drug from Lung's stashes along with the straight cash we stole. It was a nice boost in my profits. On top of that, the apartment deposit money had finally been all collected and accounted for. And with the Lords moving in to take over ABB territory in the Docks, the accountants I planted were giving me estimates into expected revenue. And the icing on the cake was that the city reimburses me for the damage done to my property. It wasn't much, considering the Dock wasn't exactly worth much. But I knew it was getting under the skin of a few choice people.

But with more money came more expenses. And hiring enough men to sack most of the ABB territory wasn't cheap. Let alone the men I was hiring to hold on to the ABB territory while I'm at school and otherwise. The apartments aren't much in the way of profit, I was running those basically to break even. My real sources of revenue were coming from my drug trade and the protection fees that have started pouring in from around the territory. It was a nice padding around the collection of cash I had, but not enough to make up for the massive expenditures I had been making. Let alone when it would come to this new building.

I was going to need more cash.

"Brandish doesn't like you," Amy said.

"I'm sure she doesn't," I answered. "I've been a nightmare for her, I'm sure. Let alone all those loosely affiliated capes and gang members running around The Docks now."

"You really like doing that, don't you?"

"What?"

"Lying about what you're involved in with that sarcastic tone."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Amy rolled her eyes with an amused sigh. The bell rang and I stood up, collecting my things.

"Uh, hey Taylor?" Amy asked, standing up with me. "Are you, er, doing anything after school?" She asked, looking me up and down as if trying to gauge my reaction.

"I've got a press conference and some organizing I need to do around my places," I answered.

"A press conference?' Amy asked. We started walking back inside, me leaning heavily on my cane with each step.

"Yep. Got to remind everyone how awesome I am, how annoying the government is, and then browbeat the PRT with some good old moral leveraging."

"How are you going to do that?" She asked.

"Simple. I'll give them an offer they can't refuse." She shot me a dry look, which I returned with a smile.

Suddenly, Emma burst through the door on the roof at full sprint, shocking both me and Amy.

"Taylor," Emma said breathlessly, stopping just in front of me and breathing like she just ran a marathon. "I… need… you… "

"Fuck. Off. Emma." I said sternly. "I thought I made myself clear last time you came up here and tried to talk to me. Unless-"

"I want to work for you," Emma said. "I just… I want to work for you, please."

I looked her up and down, some mix of baffled and angry. But the more I looked, the more I saw what she was.

A lost puppy.

"For god's sake, grow a spine Emma." I pushed past her and walked into the building, aware of her standing there, completely stunned or petrified. Couldn't say I cared either way.

A few hundred people let out a bout of applause as I took the stage that was hastily put up just outside the remains of the Boat Graveyard. I walked up the podium and tipped my top hat to them with a smile. That got a few cheers from some people in the back.

Who said public relations was hard?

Looking around, I noticed PRT Officers around the perimeter. Assault and Battery were in the front of the crowd. It didn't look like they were planning on starting anything, not that I was worried if they were. Even if I couldn't handle it, which I was on the fence whether or not I could, it looked much worse for them to arrest me than it would for me to be arrested.

"Good evening everyone," I stated cheerfully. The setting sun bathed the whole area in a warm glow, even as the buildings across the city prevented the light from blinding me as I faced the crowd with my back to the bay.

"I'm sure many think I called this little get together to talk about the fight that happened between Lung and the so-called 'Collector' in the area I just purchased. But what is done is done, honestly I'm tempted to thank them for helping me clear all the boats out." I let a chuckle go through the crowd for a moment before continuing.

"In truth, I called you and the press here today because of something much bigger. Over the last month, I've made actual affordable housing where the city has failed. I've made an enormous amount of jobs in a short time where the government has failed. And as I'm sure you're all aware, I recently made an offer to that same government to renovate the public transportation systems throughout the city. And they denied me."

The people let out groans and other signs of disapproval. I saw more than a few people shooting looks at officers present.

"Well, I'm here today to say we don't need them. We've never needed them. If they won't let me fix their public transportation, then I'll just have to open private transportation. My own ferry. My own bus systems. My own trains if I want. Heck, I'll build a damn bridge across the bay and right over the Protectorate base if have to. The bottom line is, I'm going to help this city whether the government wants me to or not."

I held out my arms, pointing my cane upward and smiling widely, getting myself a massive cheer.

"I will bring jobs back to Brockton Bay. I will rebuild our communities. I will restore this city to what it used to be, what I know it can be, and then go further. But it has become clear to me we can't get there relying on the politicians that created many of these problems in the first place. They are scared, afraid of change they aren't in explicit control of. But this is still America so change is coming whether they like it or not. And with your help, I can make this city thrive again."

When the cheers came this time, I allowed myself to really take it in. It was easy to forget the larger picture of what I'm doing when I focused on the 'how' rather than the 'why'. But no matter what I do to get there, at the end of the day these were the people I was fixing this city for. The roar of a few hundred people helped me keep that in mind.

When the cheering died down again, I made my move.

"But, I believe in second chances," I stated. "So I'll give this city one more chance, one more opportunity to show they care for the well being of its people. So Mayor, PRT, after I conclude here, I will officially put this new offer out to you. I will renovate and repair and expand the Endbringer shelters in this city, should you allow me."

I watched with no small amount of satisfaction when Assault's mouth actually fell open while the people let out there loudest cheer yet. The press people pushed forward and tried to ask me questions. I let the cheering go on just a little longer, then raised my hand to quiet them.

"As much as I would like to end this speech here, there are two more things I would like to announce. First, my plan for the Boat Graveyard. I don't want to get into the specifics, but it will be one of the largest, if not the largest, building in all of Brockton Bay. And that, of course, mean jobs. And the first place I'm going to be pulling from is the local people in the Docks."

"Secondly, I would like to announce my offer to all capes wishing to remain unaffiliated and secure in this city." I gestured off the stage and was met with a fresh round of applause and cheers as Parian walked up the steps and joined me in front of the crowd. I put an arm around her shoulders and smiled widely to the crowd.

"Parian is the first to take me up on this offer. I will act as a patron for Parian and to any other rouges looking for support, protection, housing, or otherwise. I expect nothing in return for these services I provide, only to give my support for an underwhelming number of capes."

As the crowd reacted, I couldn't help but feel the story going national, or maybe even international. And with national coverage, came investors.

Last edited: May 24, 2018

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Threadmarks 28: Connections New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 21, 2018

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#74

I checked the clock. One in the morning. I sighed and turned back towards the main building in my territory. I was in the Clearcut costume again. Two nights ago I had stopped the Empire from moving into the territory the first time when they just sent men. I thought that would have been the end, but last night after I had made the announcement to the city they tested the waters again. That time, they sent in Othala and Victor. I didn't want to take any chances and give them the chance to feel as though they could try something different. So I made a half a dozen concrete 'Marionette' puppets and set them to fight Victor. While he was distracted, I cut off Othala's feet from a distance. They hadn't tested me a third time.

Which meant I was bored.

There wasn't much for me to do right now. As soon as cash came in through whatever means, I immediately sent it back out in the forms of manpower, construction costs, and otherwise. Of course, I was still squirrelling away as much money as I could, but I was unwilling to purchase any new buildings until my other plans were a little further along. All the same, it would be days before I saw enough progress on anything to feel comfortable spending again.

I decided I would go in and work on my side project until four, sleep till eight, then get on with the rest of the day. Being Sunday, I didn't even have school to distract me. Which was a shame, considering it was the one place I could relax without feeling like I was wasting time better spent working.

I started running back towards the apartment buildings at full speed. Running across the rooftops under the power of my suit and jumping much further because of it. Even so, it was about a ten minute travel time across my now expansive territory.

A travel time that was abruptly interrupted by the feeling of something metallic clicking off the glass of my costume. I stopped immediately sent my wires in all directions, even while spreading my power through the ground. But I didn't have to search far. Across the street, standing on top of a building, was a full suit of Tinker gear that I couldn't see with my naked eye. Unfortunately for whoever it was, my power could feel almost the whole of their suit.

It didn't have time to make out who it was before something large barreled into me, yanking me off my feet and pulling me into the air.

I was disoriented for a moment as I tried to figure out what happened. When I realized I was being lifted into the air by Aegis. My eye twitched with irritation.

"I'll give you one opportunity to put me down," I stated with the most amount of self-control I was capable of.

"No can do," he responded. "I-"

He was cut off when wires bit into his wrists.

For whatever reason, they didn't go all the way through. But it didn't matter, I had wires around each ankle, wrist, and his neck. Since this was Aegis, I didn't really have to care about harming him.

At the same time, I lowered myself back towards the ground using Aegis' continued flight to support me. It took me just a few seconds to lower myself enough for me to detach the wires from Aegis. When my feet touched the ground, I immediately sent my power through the ground to find where the Tinker had gone.

I didn't have to wait as Armsmaster appeared in front of me, whatever camouflage he was using fading away progressively. I only had a second to register him before something fire out of his Halberd and I was thrown to the ground.

"Submit to your arrest!" Armsmaster called. When I pulled out of my daze, I made out Armsmaster standing over me, pointing a halberd at my face with Aegis floating just behind him. They had thrown some sort of net over the top of me. I could feel prongs around the edges of the net deploy and attach themselves to the roof.

"I have an alternative," I replied dryly. "Take this net off me and I don't embarrass you."

"Clearcut," Aegis said, coming closer. "We've got you pinned, surrender."

"Really?" I asked, turning my head towards Armsmaster. "That's some complex suit you got there." He didn't respond. I looked back at Aegis. "You do realize that me and my crew are the only reason this section of the city hasn't fallen into complete chaos, correct? Even if you could arrest me, all you would do is put more people at risk."

"You leave people seriously injured and disabled," Armsmaster said sternly. "You're just as great a danger to people than any other gang."

"Fine, have it your way," I said, having gotten everything where I needed it. I stood up, the net used to trap me opening up like it was made of flash paper. I twitched my fingers, wires cutting through Aegis' costume. With just a simple push from my power, Armsmaster's suit began to fall to pieces around him.

I chuckled as I darted away, Aegis struggling to grab stips of cloth to cover himself while Armsmaster tried to hold on to his disassembling suit.

Let them try and figure out how I did that.

I held my arms out as Parian pulled out the concealed zipper running along the side of the bodysuit. The inside was silk, as it would put a layer of protection between me and the steel weave and wasn't particularly insulative. The steel itself had to weigh somewhere around thirty pounds spread out around my body. It hugged my body tightly, showing off my lack of curves. I would have felt much more uncomfortable if Parian wasn't the only one in the room.

I was surprised to find her up so early, but she let me know she was done with my costume when I came in after my brief fight with the heroes. I figured I could stop by before going to bed.

"It breathes well," I mentioned lamely, with the lack of anything else to say. She walked around me, looking me up and down to see how well the steel suit fit and making minor adjustments to it with her power.

"Mhm, it's by design," she stated. "Figured you wouldn't want to overheat wearing this around. Can you lift your arms over your head."

I nodded and did as she asked. She made a few more adjustments, really working making this a second skin. An idea crossed my mind and made a dumb smile appear on my face.

"What?" Parian asked, tilting her head curiously.

"You know what people are calling me on PHO?"

"Chancellor Taylor? Yeah, I've heard."

"Well, does this make me the Iron Chancellor?"

Parian paused, then let out a small laugh. "I guess so, though I'm not sure the Empire would receive it well."

"Well, kind of ruins the point if anyone but me knows I'm wearing this, so I guess I can't use it anyway," I stated with a sigh.

"Well, the fit looks perfect on you." Parian took a few steps back and studied the form-fitting bodysuit.

"Thank you," I said happily as I grabbed my other clothes and began pulling them on. "But while I'm here I wanted to ask about getting a few new suits. Just like the one I have, but a palette swap."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Pinstripes, I'm thinking. Red or dark purple as the secondary colour. With a scarf to hang around my shoulders. Twenties era gangster style."

"Hm, and why would you want that?" Parian asked sarcastically.

"How much will it cost?" I grabbed my top hat and pulled my wallet out of one of the pockets on the inside.

"Actually, I was thinking more of a trade?" Parian suggest.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I, uh, want to make one of those steel bodysuits for myself. In case anything like what happened last time happens again."

"But you need the razor floss." I finished with a smile. "It's no problem. Part of our deal with that I would protect you, and that included something like that. I'll get the wire to you tonight. Now, how much for the suits?"

I was sitting in my office, running over some of the numbers that were just beginning to roll in. My father was in the other room, speaking to people on the phone loudly enough I could hear him through the walls. It seemed like the higher-ups in the Dockworker's Association were getting nervous or pressured because of me, which my dad now had to push back against.

The door opened and Powell entered with two other men behind him. Each one carrying large, clear trash bags filled to the brim with what appeared to be envelopes. I sat up straight and shot him a curious look.

"What are these?" I asked as the two men dropped the bags on the ground, spilling envelopes addressed to me.

"Your mail," he answered. "I have no idea what they're about. Opening other's mail is a federal offence, after all."

I gave him a dry look and held out my hand. He placed a small stack of letters in them. I ripped one open and scanned through it quickly. My eyes widened as I saw what could be an opportunity. I set it aside and looked at the other one. It said more or less the same thing. I picked up another. They were all about the same thing.

"Powell, I need to give Calle a call. Get him on the phone." I stated. Powell frowned.

"What is it?"

"Fan letters," I answered.

"You need Calle… because you got fan mail?"

"I didn't say my fans," I answered. "Someone else's fans want their idol to be accepted into the patron offer I made yesterday. Paige, or Canary, is going to be on trial in a month or two, pending the conclusion of an investigation and the difficulty of finding an unbiased jury. I'm thinking she'll need a good lawyer."

Last edited: May 24, 2018

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Threadmarks 29: Ever Turning Tables New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 21, 2018

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#75

"So how are you going to do it?" Amy asked. We were walking back to class right now. The hallways were mostly abandoned as no one else went to the roof for really any reason. It was far away and if too many people go, a teacher has to follow and supervise. Not worth it for most.

"Do what?" I asked.

"Renovate the Endbringer shelters without the PRT noticing you using your powers." Amy clarified.

"Easy, I don't use powers, since I'm not a cape." Amy gave me a look so dry I think she might have just redefined the term. I smiled.

"Hypothetically," I continued, lifting my cane up and pointing it at the ceiling for a moment before putting it down so I could walk forward. "If I were to have powers, and if they were to be used on the Endbringer shelters, then the answer is simple. I would have already renovated the shelters, and I'm just waiting for permission to send men put on the finishing touches so everyone else notices."

Amy looked confused for a moment then shook her head. "Couldn't they figure out your ploy? If they inspected it beforehand and discovered your changes?"

"What are they going to do?" I asked. "Claim some random cape just happen to come up and affect the Endbringer shelters to the completely coincidental benefit to both me and the whole of the city. Feel like we've been here before."

Amy gave a short laugh and shook her head. "You've really thought of everything, haven't you?"

"Well, most things," I answered. "But by the time I'll realize I haven't thought of something I'll be thinking about it, so who can say?"

Suddenly, I froze and grabbed Amy by the shoulder. She stopped and followed where I was gazing. Standing at the end of the hall were three boys about our age, each wearing Empire colours and strips of clothing around their heads to hide their faces. I turned and looked behind us at the end of the hall. Same things.

Not that much different from Winslow after all, I thought.

They started walking towards us as soon as it became clear I had caught on. I glanced at Amy. She looked like she was still processing the situation.

"You aren't going to want to hurt Amy Dallon," I stated loudly so they could hear.

"What are you doing?" She whispered to me. I ignored her and pressed forward.

"If you let her go I won't have to hurt you that badly," I stated again.

"And why should we let her go?" One of the guys behind me asked. I didn't turn to look at him.

"Because if you attempt to hurt her, all of New Wave is going to come down on the Empire. And trust me, neither you nor your bosses want that."

"If you're trying to protect me, don't need it," Amy said sternly, still in a hushed tone.

"Not the point," I answered under my breath. "You shouldn't have to get into fights about me. That, and I'm trying to teach the Empire to stop doing that all together, Pavlov style."

The guys looked at each other uncertainty. "Alright," one of the said. "I say we let her go. I don't want to get an earful from the boss." The others nodded in agreement.

"Go to class Amy," I said, louder now. "I won't be long." I gave her a little push to prompt her forward. She looked back at me reluctantly. I nodded to her sternly. With a pained look, she walked through the Empire members and down the hall. I waited for her to round the corner

'Well, now that it is just us," I said, loosening my tie. "I would guess the reason you all are covering your faces is that there is a camera somewhere… There." I pointed my cane at the camera. It was clever, on the Empire's part. They knew one of my best defences was me being not being a cape on a legal level. But if I was caught on camera then that falls away.

"Only one issue with that though," I said, aware of one of them walking very quickly towards me from behind. "I'm still perfectly capable of doing this." I spun and swung my cane between the legs of the guy coming up behind me. He let out a high pitched squeak and feel over. I had no time to feel accomplished before I needed to turn and defend myself from another one.

A fist was swinging towards my head and I need to lean back to avoid it. I nearly leaned too much, going off balance for a moment before recovering and cracking my cane against my attacker's skull. One of them grabbed my swinging arm and pulled me to the side. I switched the hand the cane was in, but before I could swing it he punch me in the gut. I gasped as he knocked the air out of me. Before he could get another one in, I raised up my cane and jabbed the tip of it into his neck.

One of them pushed me forward, shoving in the arms of another one who wrapped me in his much more muscular arms while someone else grabbed onto my cane and tried to pull it from my grasp. When I felt my grip slipping on the cane my eye twitched and something cold settled in my stomach.

I craned my neck forward and bit down on the guy's nose, drawing blood almost instantly.

"ARAHHG!" The guy screamed as he started reeling backwards. He let go of his grip on me. I didn't let up though, instead, doubling down on my grip of his nose now that my cane was firmly in hand. As he pulled away harder than before, a large chunk of his nose came off with a sickening squelching sound.

I spun around, spitting the chunk of flesh at one of the guys now behind me. That, along with the suspicious warm feeling running down my chin, gave some of them pause. I had no such hesitation.

I dart forward and brought the handle of the cane down the head of the nearest one, letting out a loud crack. Before he could even react to the pain, I brought the cane across his face, spun it around in my hand, then jammed the tip of it into his gut as I forced him into the floor.

One of them grabbed from behind, but instead of resisting I threw my full weight into him, sending us both careening to the floor. I manage to spin around as he struggled to get a hold of me. Grabbing on to him by both ears, I twisted them as hard as I could and start to pull on them.

Two guys grabbed me at the same time, yanking me from their friend and lifting me off the floor. I was met when a third one was running forward with a knife. I watch his eyes widen when the knife dug into my clothes but stopped at the layer of steel underneath. I stuck my neck forward and bit down on his long, greasy black hair and pulled back while thrusting against the two still holding me. The hair ripped out immediately.

One of them lost their grip and I pulled my arm free. I brought free hand around and punched the one still holding me in the crotch several times until he let go of my cane hand. I took it and crack the handle over the head of the two of them repeatedly until they dropped to the ground.

I look past them as them at the only two left standing. Before they got the chance, I ran towards them with my cane raised. One stepped forward and attempted to throw a punch at my head. I ducked under it and dive tackled him to the wall behind him. Quickly recovering, I jammed my cane under his chin and repeated used it to slam his head into the brick.

I looked around and saw the last remaining one raising a knife over me. I took my cane away from the bottom of the other one and for the third and final time assaulted the guy's crotch with it. He double over in pain, which allowed me to jam the handle of my cane into his teeth.

As he fell over, hands clamped over his manhood, I stumbled to my feet as a feeling of lightheadedness washed over me. Now the only one still standing, I felt the cold anger leaving my body as I began to relax. I wiped the blood off my chin. It wasn't mine and was mixed with some hairs that also weren't mine. Gross.

I looked down at my stained clothing and the blood on the handle of my cane. That bit of blood probably came from the last guy's mouth.

"Good thing I ordered those new suits," I murmured, wiping the handle off my cane with my coat.

"What the hell happened?"

I turned and saw Victoria floating in the hallway looking at the fallen Empire members disbelievingly. I blinked. I hadn't thought about her.

"Oh, I was just teaching these guys way to don't touch a girl's ca-" I stopped when something very wrong went off in my chest. I tried to speak but found my throat suddenly dry. I couldn't swallow, and I was breathing fast. A wave of dizziness hit me and I stumbled backwards, falling against the wall.

"Holy shit," Victoria said, flying to my side. "What's wrong? Did they hurt you somehow?"

I tried to answer, but my throat wouldn't work. I opened and closed my mouth repeated as I struggled to suggest the one thing that came to mind. That I had been poisoned.

"Stay here," Victoria said in a panic. "I'll go get Amy." She shot down the hallway without wasting a second.

I felt a sharp pain radiating out of my heart and through my chest. Like my blood was turning into pins and needles pricking at everything. Then my heart tissue began to die. I knew that because as it did, my power started affecting it. It wasn't beating.

I sat there, wide-eyed, unable to speak, increasingly unable to breathe, and the pain climbing higher and higher as I watched my own heart die in little bits at a time through my power.

My eye twitched. I don't just sit and take it. Not since Winslow, not any more. I reached out with my power and took hold of my heart. If it wasn't going to pump blood, then I would pump it for it.

The tissue continued to blacken and rot as another minute passed, but I no longer cared. The more tissue that died the more control of it I took. I manipulated the structure as best I could, but it wasn't like anything I had worked with before. It was far more complex and meant for something different than I've seen before. I didn't understand it.

I stopped trying to understand it and just kept my heart pumping.

Slowly, my breathing began to get easier. The dizziness and lightheadedness passed and I found myself able to swallow again. I could feel my heart beating irregularly in my chest as I struggled to get the hang of it. The pain wasn't fading.

I climbing to my feet, putting weight on my cane and started limping towards the elevator. I pulled out my phone before realizing I couldn't make a phone call inside the school. I nearly fell over getting into the elevator before I pressed the button. I managed to catch a glimpse of Amy before the doors closed and I started heading down.

She didn't need to see me like this. I'll get to the hospital on my own.

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Threadmarks 30: Rage New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

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May 21, 2018

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#76

"... The toxin caused rapid heart necrosis that then spread to your arteries." The doctor explained to me as I laid in bed. They had my morphine on max, but it felt like it was doing barely anything to dull the pain in my chest. I was doing my best to avoid curling into a ball right there, gripping the sheets of my hospital bed in balled fists and clenching my teeth.

"It's a miracle your heart managed to stay functioning," the doctor said, looking at my file with wide eyes. "Impossible, actually. But it managed to anyway. We've determined the other symptoms you have are either side effects of the toxin or caused by your heart beating irregularly, though that seems to have been fixed. But that caused a different problem. Small pieces of your heart broken off and spread through your body, taking the toxin with it. It took them straight to your liver and kidneys and is now causing them to fail as they try to break down the toxin.

"With your father's permission, we've started treatment that should help clean your blood. We don't know if is going to work though, which is why I urge you rethink your decision to turn down Panacea."

I forced myself to swallow and shook my head. The doctor sighed.

"She wants to see you," he stated. "Would you at least allowed her that?"

I paused for a moment, then nodded.

I heard the doctor walking away and scanning his clearance badge with the police officers posted outside the door. Not long after, I heard another badge being scanned as someone else entered.

My eyes were closed, doing everything I can to not cry out in pain. The person stood over my bed and let out a sigh.

"You are the first person to not let me heal them like this," she stated. "Normally, nearly dying is a good reason to get healed."

I didn't answer, I couldn't. Panacea sighed again.

"You're causing quite the stir around. The PRT is demanding your medical records and the footage from the school. Both your father and your attorney are fighting them tooth and nail for every scrap of evidence, even the ones they're entitled to. Victoria and I already gave our statements, under the guide of Carol. I think you look good, just from what we said. But uh…"

There was a rustling noise. I think she sat down.

"Carol… she doesn't want me or Victoria talking to you any more. I'm not listening to her, obviously. But things are kind of… tense now. Don't know how it's going to play out." She paused and let out a small laugh. "It's sort of funny. I'm skipping out on work to come see you, the one person in the hospital that doesn't want to be healed for whatever reason… You do have a reason, don't you?"

I gave a silent nod.

She fell silent for a time. I didn't know her point, and I guess she didn't either. Maybe she didn't have a point at all. Was she just unloading?

"I have to go," she stated shortly. Without another word, she left the room.

I let out a heavy breath of my own. One thing is for sure, when I get out of this bed I was going to flay Kaiser alive. And then some. But first, I had to live through this.

Irritating.

At some point, I managed to fall into a sort of morphine-induced state of being half awake and half asleep. Too in pain to really sleep, but too tired to stay awake when I couldn't do anything else. I was only woken up when someone grabbed my hand.

I rolled my head towards them, but keep my eyes clenched shut.

"Taylor," I heard my dad's voice. "Do you think if I gave you a pen and paper you could write something down?"

I cracked an eye open and looked at him. He hadn't shaved in a while and he looked tired. Must have stayed up to make sure the PRT wasn't going to try anything while I was out. Or to make sure I was okay. Funny, hard to keep track of the two lines of thought right now.

I managed a stiff nod. He shoved a small notebook and a pen into my stiff fingers.

"Rockson needs to know what you want to do about your construction projects while you're in the hospital."

I took a deep breath brought a shaky pen to the paper. What I wrote was equally shaky, but still legible.

Get as much as the framework done as possible and start on the walls. I won't be here forever.

"Alright. Last night the Empire hit three warehouses with their capes where your Lords were working out off. The Lords don't want to pay any more. They also tried taking territory, but our guys pushed them back. What do you want me to do?"

I clenched my teeth as another flare of anger shot through me. They attack me in my school, poison me, then think they can just take my stuff while I'm out?

When were they going to learn I really don't like it when people take my stuff?

Bring me three hundred feet of piano wire. Don't care how you get it here. I'll handle the rest.

"Are you sure Taylor?" He asked. I nodded. "Then one more thing, why won't you let Panacea heal you?"

I swallowed and wrote my answer down. He looked at it and sighed. I heard the tone of disapproval in his voice.

"That's not a good answer."

"But it's mine," I croaked out, letting out a gasp of pain as I did, the very thing I had been trying to avoid.

"Alright Taylor," my dad said, softening. "I've gotta go now, keep your business together while your out. But there is one other person here to see you, I cleared her with the law enforcement." He stood up and I heard him walking away as another person came into the room. I couldn't tell who it was until she spoke.

"Hey Taylor," Emma said.

That just wasn't fair.

"I know I'm probably not anyone you want to talk to right now, but I needed to see you." She moved to the side of my bed. I clenched my fist. "A few days ago, you… said something to me. It hurt. More than it should have, because you're right. I'm weak. And ever since you said it, I've been seeing things. Every time I touch a piece of metal I just… I don't know. I know things about it. I get ideas, images in my head, and things. And the other day, I started stripping my microwave for parts."

"Even if you don't like me, which I get, I just thought maybe your offer to protect rogues could extend to me, if you didn't think I could be trusted with anything else."

My frustration with her washed away like sand against water. That changed things considerably. That made her an asset and could use more of those right now. I almost managed to smirk through the pain as I took up the pen again and began scribbling down a few questions and directions.

I woke up again later at night. Either the morphine was really starting to work or the meds were. Either way, the pain was reduced to a slow throb. I cracked my eyes open and looked around for a clock. Half past eight. Perfect. I willed the door to my hospital room to lock, shut all the curtains, and attempted to sit up in bed.

Immediately, I fell back. My arms were too weak to support my weight right now. Even with the pain dulled, I was unable to move on my own. I frowned. That wouldn't do.

I reached under my bed with my power to find the lengths of piano wire that had been brought in earlier. It wasn't as much as I asked for, but it would be plenty enough for what I planned to do. I set myself to work.

At about the thirty-minute mark, I felt someone walking towards my room door. I quickly unlocked it just before a nurse came in and changed my IV drips. Good, I would need those.

As soon as she was gone, I locked the door again. Then I started pulling the newly made razor wire out from under my bed and up to where I was. As soon as it was touching my hand, I cut my connection to the rest of the room and just focused on the wire.

Slowly, I began wrapping the wire around me. In fifteen minutes, My hands and arms were completely covered with a thin weave not unlike what Parian had made for me. In the next fifteen, my chest and neck were covered as well. I opted for a more open mesh covering my eyes, allowing me to see through it as the wire began to cover my face. As I sent threads down my legs, I gave my hair a bit of attention as well. I bound wires to my hairs one at a time until I was finished with the rest of my body.

By nine forty-five, I was able to lift myself out of bed in the most literal fashion.

I stood up and flexed the fingers of my new suit in front of me, the fingers inside mimicking the action. I nodded. This would do. After all, I already had three capes working for me, why not four?

I grabbed my IV drips and attached them to my back, running the tubes through the inside of the suit as I added more and more wire layers on top of what I had. When I had used all the wires I could get, I double checked my IV bags were still working before disconnecting my morphine and going to the window. I attached some wires to the building and lowered myself down with them like a spider dangling from a thread.

When I was on the ground, I drew the wires back into my suit and took off at full sprint towards Empire territory, my limp body coming along for the ride.

Last edited: May 23, 2018

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#92

I was typing away at my new laptop when Amy came into the room, looking like she got dressed in a hurry. It was early morning, with the sun coming through the hospital windows. Which means she must have heard the news as soon as she woke up.

That didn't take long.

"How did you do it?" She asked.

"Do what?" I responded blankly, closing my laptop and setting it to the side.

"Sixty-two people injured all over Empire territory, each one missing fingers, hands, and feet. And three more with broken knees. That wasn't you?"

"Doesn't sound like me," I answered, looking thoughtful. "Though, there has been a spike in sudden and inexplicable amputations going around. Sure there it isn't the plague?"

"And all the buildings that had the message 'Dear Kaiser, you wanted to push me? Congratulations, you pushed me' hand carved into their walls, that still wasn't you?"

"Don't think so. But I have been told I sometimes chisel in my sleep."

Panacea took a deep breath and walked over to the door of the room. She locked it then turned to me, a serious expression on her face.

"Taylor, sixty-two people seriously injured. That's not just something you can do and shrug off as a joke. So why?"

I took a deep breath and considered what I could tell her, and just how explicit I could be with it. After a moment of thought, I said,

"The Empire attacked me in school. Nearly got you wrapped up in my problems. That won't stand. They need to know that they will be matched blow for blow with interest every single time. It's the only thing that's going to keep you safe in school and them out of my property when I'm perceived as weak like I am right now. The knowledge that a someone can and will go nuclear given the slightest provocation keeps everyone more secure in the long run."

Panacea took a deep breath and sighed. "Alright. I think I can accept that. I know Lung would have done much worse. But now what are you going to do?"

"Wait and see what happens," I answered, leaning back in my bed. "If the Empire backs down, I can focus on building up my property. If they decide to attack again then we're going to have a problem."

"Why's that?"

"Because if the Empire decides to attack after what happened to them last night, it means they're committed to being the one more willing to do damage. They couldn't take the old ABB territory, they couldn't kill me at school. So they try to get me to back down by doing more and more damage to me."

"Won't that just end with both of you at a loss?" Panacea asked. "It's a negative feedback loop, you'll both just end up destroying each other."

"If they commit to it, then yeah. But it's a pissing contest neither can afford to lose," I answered, looking away. "If they back down now, they concede that even without Lung they're too weak to take over the city. If… The Collector concedes it puts the territory he only just captured at risk. And if that territory is perceived as being up for grabs for too long, then there is going to be a problem of other gangs worming their way in."

"So you both just keep brutally hitting each other until one of you can no longer fight back." I saw her eyes drifting downwards to the hospital bed. I frowned.

"Something like that. Plans are in the works to prevent things from going too far. But in the meantime, would you like to see how the internet is responding?" I grinned as I opened my laptop up again and pointed the screen at her. She made a face.

"I don't think I should be wasting more time I could be using to heal some more people."

"You already wasted time coming to see me," I pointed out. "Might as well make it worth it. Now sit, this PHO thread is golden." I moved slightly over on my bed to give her space, angling the computer screen so she could see by sitting next to me.

She hesitated for several seconds before giving in, releasing a half-hearted sigh as she walked over to join me. She sat down on the bed and scanned the computer page.

"Hey, what is that tab?" She asked, pointing at the top of the screen. I cursed under my breath.

"That's, uh, nothing," I responded hastily, closing the tab.

"Were… were you reading fanfiction about yourself?"

"Oh don't act like you haven't least looked to see what people were writing about you."

She opened her mouth to answer then swiftly closed it. She shook her head.

"So, who was it with?" She asked after a brief pause.

"Do you really want the answer to that question?"

"... I'm not sure."

Emma came into the room with Alson, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol accompanying one of them. Immediately, the smile that had been on my face from browsing the internet faded. It was late in the evening now. I would need to head out again soon. I shut down my laptop and pulled out some sheets of paper I had been drawing on.

"I got the girl," Alson said. "She's got potential, I'll give her that."

"Explain," I stated. Emma tugged nervously at the edges of her shirt and moved to the edge of the room, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

"She isn't specific like most Tinkers I know. She isn't limited by what kind of tech she can make, only how advanced. I gave her a series of tests. Basic stuff we used back in the PRT to help determine Tinker power direction for the newbies. Everything she seems to be capable of would register as Tinker 1 or maybe 2. Does give her an advantage though of being able to tap into a variety of kinds of tech."

"Interesting," I stated, reconsidering my notes. I looked up at Emma. "Explain your power one more time to me. I was in pain last time you came by if you can remember."

"Its, uh, alloy based, I think," Emma said, looking increasingly uncomfortable. "I've been using copper and aluminium based mixes for most of my work. Very common, low melting points, and capable of being as strong as steel with the right mix and right smithing process."

"I see." I tapped my pen to my chin. "This just might work then." I turned my notes around to her. Immediately, she went bug-eyed.

"W-what is that?" She asked.

"Your future costume. I already sent the designs to Parian. You're going to have to swing by and give her your measurements sometime."

"I can't go around wearing that," Emma protested standing up, a little bit of the Emma I knew returning. I smirked.

"You and your friends made fun of my looks for a long time, I think you can suffer with this for a while."

Ah, sweet revenge.

"That's not fair," she replied darkly. Alson chuckled.

"Take it from me," Alson stated. "It isn't the most revealing costume. But it will absolutely drive every man, and most woman, nuts. If you ever have to fight a Ward, you stand an advantage."

"Which she isn't going to," I stressed. "Remember, I am only acting as patron to a rogue. Our relationship is just a little more… mutually beneficial."

"Right," Alson said rolling his eyes. "Well, if you don't need me, I've got work to do. Media whores are camping around the hospital to get a glimpse of you. Someone's gotta give them a kick in the pants."

With those words of wisdom, he hobbled out of the room.

I turned and looked at Emma, a smile creeping on to my face.

"I need three things from you. First, the hours you are able to work. I'm sure you still have to balance a home life with school on top of any work I'm going to give you. So figure out a schedule and stick to it. Second, come up with a mask. Then, when you're ready, start working on some things. As a rogue, you can make money selling your stuff, and if your tech is as low level as Alson says, then there will be fewer restrictions on what is and isn't legal. And of course, I might kick a project your way." As I said the last part, I handed her the other papers. She took them and gave them a look over, her hair falling forward and she tilted her head.

"This is… complex." She stated.

"In practice," I stated. "But the technology is very old. I'm sure you can manage. I just want a prototype, a proof of concept, really. Doesn't need to accomplish a task, get be able to work. Can you do that?"

"Yeah," Emma said, tucking the designs under her arm. "I'll get started at home while Alson is setting up my workshop."

"Good, I'll talk to you later when you're further along."

"Er, yeah. And thanks again, Taylor. For the second chance and all."

"No problem, you bring something to the table." I pushed my glasses up. "Just don't make me regret it. You won't like that."

Last edited: Jun 2, 2018

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Threadmarks 32: The Future vs My Heart New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 24, 2018

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#93

"Taylor, its Calle."

"Hello," I said coolly. "How are things going on your end?"

"Well, after I started to put pressure on the local government, it was anonymously released the exact nature of how Canary was being contained. One of your men, Alson I think it was, then got a protest put together. The protesters aren't letting anyone in or out of the holding facilities for now. After dropping a few hints of 'cruel and unusual punishment' it would seem the authorities have had a bit of a change of heart. They are discussing posting bail soon. Likely to be upwards of a few thousand dollars."

"I'll wire the money to you as soon as you know," I responded. "Do you think you could move the court proceeding to Brockton Bay?"

"That would be tricky, but it is more likely we'll have an impartial jury in that city. But switching trail jurisdiction is a sticky situation. I'll have to see. I'll call you back when I'm sure."

"Good." I hung up and turned my attention back to what I was doing. Which was convenient because, at that moment, Hookwolf came walking into the warehouse flanked by a dozen men. Some of which were missing fingers. Hookwolf himself was covered in blades, but still completely humanoid and not much taller than an average person.

"Spread out," he said. "I know I saw her dart into here. This is one of her places, destroy anything and everything you see. I don't want anything left."

At that moment, The Collector suit walked out from behind a stack of crates with a dozen concrete Marionette puppets. Behind him, the Clearcut costume stepped out and blocked his exit.

"Ambush," Hookwolf swore. I chuckled as I lowered myself down from the ceiling on some wires, made just thick enough to be visible.

"Run away Hookwolf," I said. "And don't come back."

"Fuck you," he replied angrily, growing larger as more and more blades began to slide out of him. "You and your pals are all show. Collector might take a hit, but can Clearcut, or you?" He dropped to all fours, blade bristling like raised hairs. I cocked my head.

"Collector," I said, raising my hand and motioning to the empty suit. He started walking forward. Hookwolf moved forward to meet him, but suddenly found himself yanked into the air as the Collector suit pulled on the wires I had been wrapping around Hookwolf's arms and legs.

"Hey, what the fuck?" He was increasing in mass, but I compensated by increasing the wires I trapped him in. The more he struggled, the more the wires got tangled around him. His men were already backing off.

"You know what I like about you Hookwolf," I asked walking closer to him. "You pull a biological core deep into your body as you push your blades out." He froze and I smiled. I could feel every blade in his body stop moving for a second, all coming from one area I couldn't effect. A Manton protected spot. "Surprised I know that? Don't be, a friend of mine told me. The same friend that is going to do this."

I spread my power through Hookwolf's blades, getting a feel for his whole body. I felt his core deep in his chest, shifting and changing. I couldn't affect that, but the rest of his body was fair game.

I started bending the blades into each other, pulling his arms and legs back. I felt him trying to change his shape, trying to pull the blades in. But I resisted him, fighting for control. We struggled for several minutes, each of us attempting to maintain a hold on his body. Then I changed tactics. Instead of trying to pull his arms back, I changed the structure of his blades. I dulled them, fused some together. I curled the blades back, making it look like he was made of peeling paint.

I willed the Collector suit forward and to grab Hookwolf's arms in his massive hands, drawing them back as Hookwolf let out uncomfortable grunts and groans. I was in no uncertain terms, tying him into a steel pretzel.

When I had him twisted enough, I started binding the steel wire to him in bulk. Fusing it into his body and adding more. Not stopping until I was satisfied that he couldn't move on his own.

I stopped for a short time to see how well it stuck with him. He was already trying to work his way out, bending his blades back and snapping the steel I jammed into him. It would take him a while, might as well not make it easy. I bent his body in an even more extreme way and started stuffing metal underneath the blades, preventing them from lying flat. That should hold him for at least a few hours.

I dropped Hookwolf to the ground as he let out a torrent of swearing and cursing from inside his newly formed prison. I knelt down next to where his face was pressing into the ground.

"There is something to be learned here," I told him. "Don't be so concerned with the capes you can see. Be more concerned with the ones you can't."

I looked at his men. "Get out." That was all it took to send them for the exits. Clearcut stepped aside and let them through. I turned my attention back to the disabled Hookwolf.

"I'm tired of dealing with you," I told him. "You had you lackies attack an unarmed girl at her school, you came into this territory when you thought you could take advantage of a weak time. You've made us angry. Go home and lick your wounds. Don't come back.

"And tell the Kaiser to come to the place The Collector and him first met. Just him and however men noncape gun men he thinks will make him safe. Be there tomorrow night and we'll work out a truce. But if you come into my place again, things will go much much worse for you."

I stood up and turned to walk out, not bringing myself to care all that much for the torrent of insults and swears he was lobbing at me.

With any luck, I could relax this thing with the Empire by tomorrow.

I checked the time. I had about and hour before my morphine will start wearing off. I was done here anyway. I looked forward and started back towards the hospital.

It was early morning when the doctor came into my room, at the same time I was preparing to get out of bed and walk myself to the cafeteria. He was carrying a clipboard and looking over the papers on it. He looked just a little older than my father, with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes that made him seem perpetually tired. All the same, he gave me as warm a smile he could manage as he spoke.

"Your most recent test results have come in." He stated.

"And?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The toxin is totally clear of your system now, with no more risk of further heart necrosis. And without the toxin's the effects to fight, your kidneys look like they'll recover just fine. Your liver, on the other hand, is going to need a few more months of medication to help it along. With enough time, those organs should be fine. Unfortunately, your heart is another story."

I took a deep breath. "What's wrong?"

"When you first came in, the necrosis was all around your heart but more or less on the surface level. It wasn't on the inside chambers or in the arteries around the heart yet. As the toxin cleared your system your heart began beating on its own again, but the necrosis continued to progress at a slower rate over several hours before stopping. The damage to your arteries seems to be causing more problems ."

"So what do you need to do?"

"There too much dead tissue around the healthy portions of your heart for your body and medicine to clear away effectively before it does you more harm. We're going to have to go in and remove it or in two or three days you'll start experiencing more ill effects. Once in, we'll cut out the dead portions and apply bovine patches. We're going to need to replace the dead arteries. After your surgery though, so long as everything goes well, everything should be fine."

"Surgery?" I asked with a frown. "You mean you're going to open me up?"

"Well, yes. Kind of hard to do it another way."

"Is there anything else you can do? Something less invasive?"

"Not with your liver in the state it is in. Even if we weren't concerned with more pieces breaking off and being sent hurtling through your body, the amount of drugs it would take to prevent the poisoning that has already begun to occur will destroy your liver. Even the Tinker drugs we have to combat cases like this will be far too much strain. I'm afraid surgery is really your only option."

I frowned. "Fine," I said. "Find my father and get him to sign whatever it is you need."

"If I may ask, is there a reason you didn't want surgery?"

"I just don't like the idea of other people being able to change my body. Take things out of my control."

"Well, don't worry. We won't be doing anything more than removing the death tissue before it really starts causing problems."

I gave a stiff nod. I still didn't like it.

"Just ah, two more things." The doctor said, lowering the clipboard. "After the surgery, the walls of your heart are going to be structurally weak, even with the bovine patches on them. We're going to keep you inside the hospital while you heal for the next few weeks while we monitor your recovery. Too much strain on your heart could cause it to rupture"

Oh, I didn't like that at all.

"We've been treating you for hypertension already, so before and after the surgery you'll be switched to beta blockers to keep your heart rate down. But besides that what I really want to ask was whether or not you wanted to replace your damaged arteries with an artificial artery or a Tinker made biostructure? As a side note, we can either order the biostructure from Florida or have Panacea make one on site, depending on your preference."

"I'll take the artificial one," I said, fighting to keep the smile from creeping onto my face.

"Are you sure? The benefits of a bio-"

"No, it's fine. I know what I want."

Last edited: Jun 2, 2018

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Threadmarks 33: Peace in Our Time New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

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May 24, 2018

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#94

"I don't get it," my father told me as he ran down my list. "Aside from the fact you shouldn't be leaving your hospital bed at all, let alone a few hours after a surgery like that, this doesn't make any sense."

"I'm sorry, but I made the plans before I knew I needed to have my heart carved into pieces," I answered sarcastically. The meds were still working their way through my body, making me feel numb, but that was fine. I didn't need fine motor skills for what I would be doing. The doctors had already made me sit through most of the day doing breathing exercise and other post-op things, I was ready to move again.

My dad was standing in front of the window, looking supremely concerned as I suited up again.

"Put the meeting off Taylor," he said sternly. "You could blow your heart out doing this."

"Which is why I need you nearby with a car," I explained again. "It shouldn't get physical. This meeting is just to negotiate a truce. If things get violent, I'll puppet the Collector into play while I run to find you."

"Do I even need to explain all the ways that can go wrong?" He asked, crossing his arms.

I sighed. "No. But this is important dad. I need this truce."

"Why can't you just call the PRT in to arrest Kaiser once he is there?"

"Aside from blowing all the credibility I'll ever have again?" He gave me a look that told that answer wasn't working. I sighed and shook my head. "Because doing that will send the city careening into the exact situation Director Piggot had been describing when we talked."

"What?"

"I can't take over the Empire territory, not yet. Their territory is more than double that of the ABB, and I only took that much because the Empire just saw me take on Lung. If I brought down the Empire right now I would be in control of most of the city. A level which I'm not ready for. I don't have the funds, the manpower, or cape power to hold on to all of that from just the independent villains already in the city. Let alone everyone else that is going to be coming for the piece of the pie once the Empire is out."

"So you're just going to let them continue the way they are, after attacking you at your school? Let alone everything else they do in the city?" His tone was rising as he got angrier.

I sighed. "It isn't an easy choice, I know. But I need to build more infrastructure in my own territories. I own ten buildings and barely developed property in the Docks. That isn't going to be enough. It's barely enough to maintain what I'm doing now. I'm actively losing money trying to hire the manpower I need to keep the Empire at bay right now. I need this truce or everything I've accomplished so far goes down the drain."

"So let Panacea heal you." My dad said simply.

I looked away. "You know why I can't do that."

"Because it gives you an alibi?" He asked.

"In small part," I answered. I didn't continue, because I knew how the rest of it would sound. I didn't want anyone manipulating the structures of my body. I didn't want her to see what I've done to myself and worry. I didn't want her to use her power and make things awkward. I didn't want her to have solid proof I was a cape. I didn't want her making changes out of my control. Didn't want her wrapped up any more than she already was.

I want, I want, I want.

"You're not going." He stated firmly.

"I just explained to you why I need to-"

"If you leave here you will rip your heart open! So no, you are not going anywhere."

"The what am I supposed to do?" I asked angrily. "Roll over and let the Empire have what it wants? Give the Empire near total control of the Docks? I'm in a bargaining position now, but I can't keep it up. I can not afford to miss this Dad!"

"Then send me," he said simply. I blinked.

"What?"

"Put me inside the Collector suit and send me in. If things get rough, just pull the suit out."

"Are you sure?" I asked carefully. There was something incredibly off-putting about having someone else inside The Collector suit, let alone that someone being my dad walking straight into a what could possibly be an ambush.

"Yes, if it gets you to stay relaxed, then I'll do it."

I considered him for a few moments, then shook my head with a sigh. "Alright, but we're going to have to get a lot done in the next couple hours to prep you. And if I'm going to be in this hospital room for a few more weeks, then I'm going to need more materials so I don't lose my mind sitting here."

I grabbed my cell phone and made a call.

"Alson," he stated when he picked up on his end.

"Grab a pen and some paper," I instructed. "I'm going to need some supplies."

"Arts and crafts, my favourite," Alson stated dryly.

I could hear my father's breathing through the microphone of his cell phone from where it was attached to the inside of the Collector suit. From the video camera in his helmet, I had a clearer picture of what he was seeing than I would have just from getting a feel of the surrounding structures in the streets and buildings.

I was still in my hospital room, sipping on some tea while I took my beta blockers to keep my heart rate down. Controlling the suit that was all the way in the Docks was a new experience for me. One of my biggest issues with my wires is that the smaller I make them the less structure I could cram into their form. That wasn't too much of an issue when I was nearby, as I just needed to wrap the wire around things as tight as I could before flexing my fingers. But at a distance of miles? The lack of structure adds up over that stretch. The collective lack of structure in a wire makes it harder to manipulate at such a great distance. There were basically two ways around it. Make the wire thicker and give it more structure, or just keep doubling the number of wires to so that I had enough of a jumping off point to control The Collector.

Or at least so I thought at first, then I got a better idea.

Through the city, thirty individual wires were shooting out of my hospital room in different directions, snaking through the city's alleyways and through its sewers. Every couple of blocks a wire was wrapped around a fire escape, or a railing, or something similar. Something unremarkable and out of the way. Each one of those was effected by my power to make stronger, more structured and were then fuse to my wires. The collective structure of the whole set up gave my wires just enough power to get to the next relay station and then all the way to The Collector suit. Setting it all up took much longer than I would have liked to get done, all while I was also trying to teach my dad how to behave like The Collector and what to say to Kaiser.

But the end result was that I had half of the city connected in a network of wires. The thoughts of ways I could use it put a dumb smile on my face.

"I'm here Taylor," my father said quietly, his voice echoing off the inside of The Collector suit. I nodded.

"I can see. Kaiser is inside, ten men with him," I informed him with the use of my power. The Kaiser's suit was under the influence of my power, but with the already strained structure network, it was impossible to do anything more than get a feel of it through the unstructured floors of the abandoned factory. "I'm walking you in, be ready."

"Right."

The Collector reached down and forced open the disused bay door previously used by semi trucks getting loaded with goods. The old wheels in the door screeched loudly as the door came open. I felt the Kaiser's footsteps immediately start walking towards us, his ten men in step behind him.

I had barely gotten The Collector through the door when the Kaiser appeared.

"Your an hour late," he stated sourly.

"Sorry," my father answer. "Ran into Protectorate along the way. Had to make sure they weren't going to follow. I'm sure you understand."

The Kaiser paused. "Understandable," he stated, his tone shifting dramatically. "Then let's get this done quickly. When you tied my subordinate into a knot the other night, you told him you wanted a truce. After you mutilated more than sixty of my people."

"After you attacked a defenceless girl in her school and injected her with a poison that nearly killed her, but instead just damaging her heart significantly. If we aren't even, then it's because you still owe us some blood."

"A girl you purport to have no connection to," Kaiser responded testly. I narrowed my eyes at the screen.

"Tell him about the mask thing," I whispered.

"You wear a mask Kaiser," my father said. "Part of that mask protects your day to day business even though it is common knowledge to people on the streets of Empire ties to Medhall. It's what protected Lung's casinos. And if the girl you attacked had been a cape, you would have never done what you did. In fact, because she isn't a cape you shouldn't have done what you did at all. You attack a civilian unprovoked, and that is a messy business to be getting into. So I would suggest that whether or not there is any connection between a civilian and capes you dislike, you take it up with the capes."

"Hmm, you seem to echo some of my own thoughts," Kaiser said. "So let me take it up with you. Do you honestly believe that you and, what people are calling The Dreadnought, would survive me attacking with full force?"

"Maybe not, but if that is the case, why haven't you done it?"

I smiled at my dad's performance. Even though there was a cheat sheet in front of him for different claims Kaiser might make during the posturing phase of negotiation, he was still delivering them with a great amount of skill.

The Kaiser was silent for a moment, letting my father press forward.

"You and I both know what happens if you send everyone out at once. Even if it were just me and not everyone else, entire city blocks could get destroyed. Protectorate gets involved and things devolve into chaos and likely results in the arrest of more than a few of your guys. But if the rest of The Dreadnought gets involved?" I raised my eyebrow at how quickly my father accepted that name, but it wasn't like I had anything better for an entirely fictitious group of capes I made.

"Then the damage is much more significant," the Kaiser finished seriously.

"And then the Protectorate brings down the hammer on the two of us, backup from other cities and the whole nine yards. The other villains and independents in the city might perceive us as a threat an team up. People outside the city see the chaos and come for their take. Then we both have to spend time and effort dealing with all those forces combined and we're both at a net loss."

"So this truce of yours is meant to sidestep that disaster I'm guessing?" Kaiser asked.

"Yes. Instead of struggling for years with the ABB, we'll go into a cease-fire. We don't attack each other, but we don't help each other either. We keep to our own devices so we direct attention to outside threats."

"This could be… interesting," the Kaiser stated. "And if we were to do this, we would forget the transgression between us before the meeting? Focus on moving forward?"

There was a terrifying pause from my father. For a few heart-stopping seconds, I was worried he was about to go off on him for poisoning me. Not that I would blame him, but it wouldn't have come at a worse time.

"Yes," my father said, though I could hear the bitterness in his tone.

"Then I'm prepared to hear you offer."

I smiled. My father won out during the posturing, giving Kaiser invested interest in letting the whole poisoning thing be forgotten. Now he should be more willing to make compromises. That was good, even if it stung that I wouldn't get back at him for the poison.

For now anyway. I waited to get back at Lung, I could do the same here.

"Then let's talk territory, drugs, and policy," my father began, taking on a tone I was only used to hearing when he was working over the phone. "I know we've got a few places that are much more valuable to us than to you, and vice versa."

I leaned back and cracked my fingers. This was going to be interesting.

Last edited: Jun 2, 2018

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Threadmarks 34: Relaxed Work Envoirment New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 24, 2018

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#95

"Good evening everyone. I'm Michelle Smith here today with a special guest. Taylor Hebert has agreed to a one-on-one interview with me while she is still recovering from her heart surgery. Taylor, can you tell me more about that?"

Michelle turned away from the camera and looked at me with a light smile. She was a young woman. Long face, with straight black hair tied into a ponytail. I put on my smile again and nodded.

"It's been a challenge," I stated. "Having my heart nearly stop in my chest was bad enough, but learning it rotted enough to require surgery was much harder. Especially when I have so many construction projects going on while I'm here."

"Speaking of construction, people have been paying a lot of attention to the work your doing and couldn't help but notice your construction projects are going on even with you recovering from the terrible attack on your life. Can you tell us anything about that?

"Certainly," I said with a nod. "Even though I've been seriously hurt, that is no reason my attempts to revitalize the Bay shouldn't go ignored. I'm employing too many people to let a little thing like organ failure to stop me."

Michelle let out a little laugh and tapped on my arm. "You are so wonderfully positive. Now, I understand that you've made plans to renovate the Endbringer shelters, are there any further developments you know of?"

"I signed the official contract earlier this morning," I answered with a wide smile. "My men are moving in to start the work as we speak. Work will begin the next morning and continue for a few weeks."

"You certainly do move fast," Michelle said. I held out my hands and smiled. "Do you think more displays of grandeur like this is going to put you in any more risk, and do you plan on going back to school when you recover?"

"Well, to the first question I would say I shouldn't have anything to worry about. I mean, really, I didn't let them stopping my heart from putting me down. What else can they do? For the second, I certainly do plan on going to school again. I haven't been doing all the homework forwarded to me for nothing. I seriously doubt the Empire is going to try anything as serious as that again."

"That's very brave of you, but I have to wonder if this has anything to do with a group of mysterious capes known as The Dreadnought operating in the areas around your properties."

"I'm afraid I don't know much about said group. The Collector, the one that fought Lung, was one of them correct?"

"Yes, along with three other known capes. Clearcut, Marionette, and a new one known as Steelspider."

"Curious, I'll have to keep an eye out for them. Wouldn't want anyone getting hurt."

I sat in my room later that night looking between two laptops, each one display security feeds from around my territory. Just as expected after my deal with Kaiser, things had gone mostly quiet. But it didn't hurt to make sure things were fine. I had already started decreasing the number of goons I kept on hand. Fortunately, nearly all of the guys I let go found more work with my construction projects down where the Boat Graveyard used to be. The massive chunk of money I received from the Endbringer shelter contract was a good boost, but I would need more sources of income eventually.

The bus station I had made out of the building I bought from Coil as part of our secret deal was nearly ready. I bought twenty broken down busses and began repairing them from my place in bed. Once they are able to run I could make their engines more efficient. I might even commission Emma to see what her alloy Tinkering can do. If I drive down fuel costs enough then I could effectively double the profits of the bus system without raising the prices I planned to charge. Which was important, considering who would be paying for the service.

There was a knock on my door, pulling me out of my thoughts for a moment.

"Come in," I said, closing my laptops and setting them aside for the moment. Amy came into the room wearing her normal clothes.

"Hey," she said, raising a hand to greet me.

"Hey? I wasn't expecting you to swing by. Something up?"

"There weren't too many serious injuries going on today, so they let me out early. Victoria isn't going to be around for at least an hour. So I thought I'd stop by."

"Cool. Say, I managed to download a couple movies over the hospital wifi I planned on watching. Want to join me?"

"Uh, yeah. I think I can steal some ice cream or something out of the staff kitchen. You want some of that?"

"Ah, appropriation, my favourite flavour. I'll pull up the movie."

As soon as Amy was out of the room, I opened one of my laptops and quickly reset the movie I had been watching back to the beginning and started closing out my other tabs. If nothing else, it will stay buffered. Hopefully.

Amy came back holding two half pints of ice cream and some plastic spoons. She set them aside while she maneuvered the chairs in the room. She put two of them back to back, leaving just enough space between them to give the laptop a stable surface to rest on. The other chair she moved closer to my bed so she could see. She passed me my cup of ice cream as I hit the play button.

No sooner had the movie begun, than something distracted me. Somewhere, I felt someone pulling on one of my wires. My eye twitched in irritation.

I had expanded my wire network massively since the meeting with the Empire and made my men aware of it so they and their families could make use of it.

I quickly isolated where the tugging was coming from just by feeling through my network. It was on the very edge of the Docks, and the pulling was becoming quicker every second. As discreetly as I could, I pulled a phone from my pocket and tried not to attract Amy's attention.

It took a few seconds for me to find the camera feed in that area. When I did find it, I quickly opened it and assessed the situation.

A young woman, cocktail dress, high heels, small handbag pulling on a thick wire at the end of an alley. Approaching behind here were two greasy looking guys dressed in heavy clothing. It was hard to tell from the camera image, but I could make out both of them holding something. Either a knife or maybe a small gun. That wouldn't do at all.

I cut the connection to the rest of my network to get rid of unstructured interference and focused on that area. At the same time, I started routing Steelspider towards her location. If everything went right, the suit should arrive in time to help. In the meantime, I began moving more wires into the area.

The two thugs attacking the woman liked to gloat, and they obviously didn't understand what pulling on that wire meant. But that was fine for me, bought me more time.

I gently started wrapping wires around their fingers and other exposed areas of skin I didn't think they would notice. I didn't have the power to cut them, but with the way they were moving and walking, they would cut themselves. All the while, I was covering their escape with wires.

One man reached down for his zipper, then promptly pulled back as a cut sank into his finger. The other looked around, confused at his friend's reaction, only to have a cut appear on his forehead. He brought his hand up without thinking, causing a cut in his palm. At that point, the two of them began twisting and flailing like they were swatting at bees or something. It was actually amusing to watch.

Steelspider stepped into the alleyway and the wires around the guys retracted into 'her' suit. They paused for a moment, taking several seconds to realize the pain had gone and that Steelspider was standing at the other end of the alley, their only way out. After that second had passed though, wires exploded out of Steelspider's chest.

I could practically hear the guys screaming as thicker wires not meant to cut their bodies latched on to their arms and legs and dragged them to the ground. They tried to pull away, but each second they became more and more wrapped up in steel. I dragged them forward on the ground until they were at Steelspider's feet. I had Steelspider motion to the woman once, spurring her to her feet before shuffling out of the alley. She did everything in her power to give Steelspider a wide berth.

I turned my attention back to the man, tilting Steelspider's head to the side to reflect my own inquisitive thoughts on what to do with them. Well, teaching them a lesson they won't soon forget would probably do it. Steelspider pointed a finger, a small but visible wire connected to their pants zippers. As she drew her hand back, the zippers opened.

Steelspider closed a fist and cuts appeared around their wrists. I wasn't that much of a sadist, but they got the message. What could cut their wrists could cut other things as well. And their behaviour wasn't going to fly.

I withdrew all the wires from the area and opened my connection to my network up again while redirecting the Steelspider suit back to where I had been hiding it. Setting the phone down next to me on the bed, I took a bite of my ice cream and continued watching the movie like nothing ever happened.

Last edited: Jun 3, 2018

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Threadmarks 35: The New and Improved Emma New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 24, 2018

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#96

I waited patiently as Emma changed into her costume inside my hospital unit's bathroom with a smile on my face. As funny as the idea was on paper, it was going to be all so much sweeter in reality.

Suddenly my phone went off. I answered it quickly, not wanting to waste time in case Emma got finished.

"Taylor speaking," I stated.

"Taylor," Rockson's steady tone answered. "I've noticed you've been keeping up on the building restoration even while in your… situation."

"Yep, got to keep myself busy. Why, is there something to report?"

"In a sense. It's the building you've commissioned for the Boat Graveyard, the construction has progressed to the point you described. The framework is there, as are a lot of materials. I would imagine you could work your magic on the first three floors. It would definitely drop the estimated construction costs, and speed up the timetable."

"I'll see to it, is there anything else?"

"Nothing major, however, I have been keeping a careful eye on the city's foreclosure market. I've found some properties that might interest you."

"Taylor," Emma called from the bathroom. "I'm ready."

"Email them to me and I'll look at them later. I have to enjoy some revenge right now." I hung up the phone and tossed it on the bed.

"Come on out," I said, unable to keep the happiness out of my voice.

"...Do I have to?"

"Yes."

She groaned loudly and pulled the door open, taking three steps outside and stopping. Regret was all over her face. I stopped fighting the stupid smile attempting to grow on my face.

I'm not even sure where to being describing what she was wearing. A solid black, form-fitting piece covered the main part of her body, but left her shoulders bare. Grey stockings were the only thing keeping her legs from being completely bare, running all the way up her exposed thighs. The only other thing she was wearing on her body was black bow tie and white sleeve cuffs that were basically bracelets with cufflinks.

She wore her hair in a ponytail and put a bowler hat on top. To cover her face, she went with a simple white mask with a smiley face and card suits along the edges.

"I look like a whore," She complained.

"I was thinking more…" I paused and waved my hand in the air to search for the term. "Sexy waitress at a degenerate's bar."

"I fucking hate my life," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "It doesn't even fit my power. I'm a Tinker! I'm supposed to wearing power armour or something!"

"Do you have power armour?" I asked.

"Uh, no." She hung her head.

"Then you can go around in this. Karma's a bitch."

"Can think of a few other people that fit that description," she muttered. I shook my head, unable to keep the smile off my face. Somethings were just too good for this world.

"Alright, enough about the costume. Let me see what you have."

Immediately, Emma crossed the room and grabbed the duffle bag she carried in with her. She placed it at the end of the bed near my feet and pull over the mounted tray I put my food on. Slowly she started pulling out little gadgets.

"So, when I touch things I get a general idea about the metal inside them," Emma explained. "I'm really good at making the alloys myself, making some strong stuff whenever I do. Even when the materials aren't that great to begin with. But when it comes to giving shape to the materials, things get a little more difficult. I'm not all that savvy with computers, but I managed to make this."

She held up what looked to be the hilt to some sort of blade. It was a simplistic design, a cross shape handle and guard. But there were three buttons in the guard and one in the handle. She showed me both sides, then pressed the button in the handle. Blue lights appeared along the edges of it. When she pressed the centre button in the guard while holding down the handle button, a segmented blade extended out of the hilt. She pressed another button and the segmented blades curved backwards, forming a curved dagger. She pressed the final button and the blade segments opened enough to give it a more serrated edge.

"Like your pal said last time we talked I'm not limited to a kind of tech, just the complexity of it. I've actually had more luck with my more mechanical works."

"Oh?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Show me."

She reached into the bag and produced a strange looking object about the size of a football. She fixed it to her arm, making it look like some high tech splint before she pressed a button on it. The was a light mechanical whirl before metal plates slid out of the main body and formed an oval shield large enough to cover her face.

"How are you powering it?" I asked as I studied it.

"An array of phone batteries for now, but I've found a way to make some powerful magnetic alloys. I'm hoping to get some form of magnetic electricity generation going on. I've also experimented with small steam powered stuff, using the electricity to heat the steam to give the stuff a little more of a push. Haven't made anything effective yet. It would be like hydraulics, but with steam."

"It has a lot of potential," I said with a nod. "Have you figured out what you're going to sell as a rogue?"

"I was thinking self-defence?" She suggested tentatively, studying my face for a reaction. "I could sell all kinds of armour made of different alloys. Lightweight, heavy, stab proof, bullet proof, shockproof, thermal-"

I held up a hand and stopped her. "That all sounds good, but you should probably get a notebook or something to write it all down." She nodded. "Now, how about the prototype I requested?"

"Oh," her tone picked up as she started rifling through her bag. "I think I've got that in here. I actually had a lot of fun with it. I was amazed you came up with the blueprints for that yourself, I'm pretty sure I was only making sense of it because of my powers."

"I'm good at understanding things," I replied.

She placed a small cube in front of me, about just large enough to fit in my palm. I picked it up and examined it. The cube had each edge as a solid strip of metal, with thin grating making up the faces of the cube. Inside, made of yellowish red metal, was a complex mass of intertwined gears.

I grabbed the handle on the one side of it and gave it a few twists. Suddenly, the whole room was filled with the sounds of loud ticking from the gearbox.

"What are you going to use it for?" Emma asked me.

"Nothing. This was just a test after all, to see if it was possible to make a clockwork engine. Now I know it is." I looked at Emma and grinned.

"I get the feeling I'm about to have a lot more projects kicked my way."

"Yep. But there is just one more things I need to do."

"What's that?"

I whipped out a phone a quickly snapped a picture of her. She blinked.

"Wait, what are you doing?" She asked, panic creeping into her voice.

"I'm seeing what PHO thinks your cape name should be."

"No!"

"Yes."

Last edited: Jun 3, 2018

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Threadmarks 36: Considerations New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 29, 2018

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#124

I was idly playing with my computer out of lack of much else to do. Ever since my wire network because widespread knowledge criminals generally avoided my territory. I could go days without getting a call for help. A few more encounters with the Protectorate and Wards were the only other thing to have happened these last two weeks. And when it came to my building in the Boat Graveyard I was rapidly approaching all I could do from this distance. After having spent nearly every waking hour I had improving what floors my construction crews have gotten ready, it was reaching a point that the sheer amount of wires I would need to have enough of a jumping off point to make the really small changes would be far too noticeable.

Past that, all my money was tracked and accounted for, with not a single dime out of place. I even started laying the groundwork for other businesses I would like to start getting a foot in the door with. Which was more or less all of them, but I need to wait for my financial situation to get a little better. Unless I wanted to take out a loan again, which wasn't very high on my list of things I liked doing.

The computer was receiving my attention as a result. My power couldn't feel the energy or coding inside of it. By I could feel all the physical things. Yet, my power told me about structures, not how circuit boards worked. For that, I had the internet.

I must have spent hours toying around with the insides of the computer, making attempts to improve the hardware without damaging the software. Reading about computer component design and then applying that to what I could see with my power. Most times I failed and got a malfuctioning computer as a result, but I thought I might have been getting the hang of it when there was a tug on my wire network.

I quickly pulled up the camera and found the issue. Another mugging, it looked like. It was closer to the Clearcut costume, so I sent her in to deal with it. It didn't take long, distracting me for only a short time. And when I was done I was just as bored again.

I was going to lose my mind just sitting here if I didn't get to work on something. I started considering my options.

It was a Friday afternoon. Amy and Emma still had an hour or two of school left. My dad was out working in the Docks today. My options were limited. Even with all the attention, I was giving to building in the Boat Graveyard, it wasn't enough to occupy my time.

I took out my phone and gave Alson a call.

"Ello?" He answered.

"Do we still have that block of steel left over from Squealer's project?"

"Yes."

"Load it into a van and park it inside the hospital parking garage. It'll give me something to do."

"You got it."

I hung up and set the phone down with a sigh. Well, no better time like the present. I turned my power inward towards my chest. To the tubes connected to my heart.

There wasn't much I could do with them. At least, not right now. But it was interesting to look at. To observe exactly how it was moving in relation to the blood pumping through it. I had made some changes in its structure, making it stronger. But I didn't want to risk doing something that would hurt me in the long term. I didn't have a degree in medicine, so I thought maybe it would be better to not completely change the things keeping the blood in my veins instead of outside them. But it did give me something to think about.

And artery was just a tube. A tube made of organic tissue, but just a tube. And when I thought about that I recalled that a heart was just a pump, a bone was just a support beam, and a muscle was just length of tissue that pulled or stretched.

Kind of like a wire.

Before I had even completed the thought process, lengths of wire were in my hand. I looked at them, then at my arm. I could imagine that. Lengths of wire all bundled together in a way that made them look the like muscles on one of those diagrams. Contract them to open my hand, expand them to close it. Doing the same for my whole arm. Then my body.

I brought the wire tips to my skin and was about to force them inside, just to see what would happen as proof of concept, when the door to my room opened and a nurse walked in.

"Time for your physical therapy," the nurse said. I shook my head and hid the wires away again as I started getting out of bed. There would be time enough for that later.

"Well, it looks like your recovery is going well," the doctor said and he scribbled down some notes on his clipboard. "You should be able to leave by tomorrow morning. I'm going to keep you on your current medication. You'll have to come back in a month or so for a final check then you should be good. Just don't run any marathons any time soon. Not quite ready for that."

"Thank you," I said with a nod, not really paying too much attention to what he was saying.

"I give your father a call and get him to come sign your discharge papers when he can."

He nodded and walked out, letting me turn my attention to my projects.

I wasn't content with just focusing on one thing. Not when I wasn't doing anything else with my body. There hasn't been a distress call on any of my helplines for hours. And none of my projects were complicated enough to require my full attention anyway. With an exception of the Boat Graveyard, but that was a whole other issue. So even while I was manipulating small areas around my territory, I was also working on the block of metal Alson delivered earlier today.

My goal was simple. Take what Emma's prototype proved was possible and blow it up to an even larger scale. Large enough to take up the whole space of the van. It would take hours to even get close to working gears, let alone to get fully functional in all aspects. Luckily, I had more than a full day to get it done.

I laid back in my bed and closed my eyes, letting my power take over. And no sooner had I done that, then the door to room burst open.

"Taylor," Victoria proclaimed, coming into the room holding a plastic tray in one hand and Amy right behind her. "I've come bearing sandwiches."

"She wanted to join us for lunch today," Amy said lamely, coming into the room behind her. I checked my watch.

"It's almost four."

"Early dinner then," Victoria amended, putting down the platter on top of my legs.

"A dinner of pre-sliced deli sandwiches?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Victoria huffed. "Does it matter?"

"I suppose not." I reached forward and grabbed a one off the platter. Victoria pulled up a chair and raised her legs up on the end of my bed. Amy took her normal seat next to me.

"So I guess you're also ignoring Carol's ban on me," I mentioned, casting a glance at Victoria. She shrugged.

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her. Doesn't go on PHO enough to find the threads about any rumours going on with me visiting you. And to be fair, I don't think she has a problem with you personally. Just how you're doing what you're doing. Or something like that, I think."

"And what about you?"

"I didn't know what to think at first, now I'm worried you're going to make my job boring." she shot me a wide grin and glanced at one of my laptops. "Say, you got streaming on there? There is the television show from Earth Aleph that has Sherlock Holmes, but as a Tinker or something. Thought we might watch it."

"Sure," I grabbed the laptop and opened it up to start opening the website most people used for this kind of thing. "You said I'm going to make your job boring, how's that?"

"Pretty much half of all the crime in the city was gang crime. But without the ABB and whatever that was going on between you and the Empire relaxing, the cities crime has been down across the board."

"Really? " I asked, a smile coming to my face. "Can you tell me about it, haven't thought to keep up on that."

"Well," Victoria said, tapping her chin thoughtfully before I passed the laptop to her. "Drugs have become pretty widespread recently. But somewhere along the line the Merchants just dissolved. Guess no one noticed with everything else going on. Without them, even though cops are busting people left and right for drug use, drug sales have gone pretty much underground. Barely notice them anymore."

Hmm, it's been a while since I've dealt with the Lords. They've been a great source of revenue, but it might be time to move to the next phase with them.

"There's been a spike in cape fights," Amy stated. "Now that things have cooled down the Empire let go most of the Independents they pressured into working for them. Vigilantes and other small time guys going around getting in trouble. Just like they did before."

"Uber and Leet have been quiet though," Victoria added thoughtfully. "Been quiet for a while. Must be planning something big."

"Just so long as they don't use my building to recreate Jumpman Mario, I'm okay with that."

Victoria snorted.

"Alright, I got the show pulled up." Victoria sat the laptop on my legs, moving the tray of food to the side. They both got quite as the show began to play, so I took the opportunity to sink back into my work.

There was a lot to be done once I was out of here. And when the new building is done, every powerful person in the city is going to be alarmed by it. I wasn't going to waste any time.

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Threadmarks 37: Finally Free New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 29, 2018

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#125

I slipped my steel under armour on. Hm, it was a little looser than I remembered. I pulled on the strings and tightened it, along with quickly fixing the little nick that it had from when they attempted to stab me.

I pulled Parian's latest work over top of it. Black button up shirt with a barely visible floral pattern made of a slightly lighter material. A black vest with semi-clear red buttons that match the vibrant red cross tie. The suit jacket and pants were pinstripes just as I requested. All topped off with a white top hat with a red band around its base. I would have to put in the pockets later.

My dad met me outside my room with a large smile plastered on his face.

"Ready to go kiddo?"

"More than ready," I answered. "I was about to lose my mind in that bed."

The tip of my cane let out a loud tap with each step we took through the hallways on our way out. A few people stopped and stared. Must be the hat.

When I stepped out the front doors of the hospital I was greeted by a crowd and news crew that had gathered around the entrance. It was a little surreal to see people actually excited to see me leave the hospital, but I didn't let it affect me too deeply. I smiled and waved at the people even as some people try to push their way through some of my personal security pulled from my apartment buildings just for today. Reporters shouted questions at me from where they were. I continued to give the occasional wave as I made my way into the limo parked on the street.

My father and I climbed to the familiar sight and smell of Powell, Rockson, and surprisingly even Alson sitting on one side of the car. Powell was smoking, Rockson drinking, and Alson doing a bit of both.

"I'm glad to see you've made it out alright," Powell greeted me with a nod.

"Yeah, wouldn't want to be out of a job this early," Alson stated.

"That's good," I said, nodding. "Because we've got plenty to do. So first, tell me anything I'm going to need to know now before I start delegating."

"Canary's trial proceeding began a few hours ago," Powell said with a nod. "She wanted to see you while out on bail, but given the travel and how you were in the hospital at the time, Alson suggested it wouldn't have been a great time."

"You're forgetting the best part," Alson said, a smile crossing his face. "A beloved singer under attack? Claims of cruel and unusual punishment? The esteemed Calle on the case? The PRT possibly targeting her unfairly because she was an unaffiliated rogue? Or because of loose connection to you? If I just had a little more time to work the angles I could have blown this thing up to the new trail of the century." He laughed and took a quick swing from a square shaped bottle he had before continuing. "But regardless, the protest outside the local courthouse is going on its second week and is only growing larger. They're feeling the pressure and with Calle on the case? The state is going to roll over like a dog wanting its belly scratched."

"Very good," I said with a smile. "So just a couple of days before she's free to go?"

"It would seem so," Powell stated.

"Then start putting together a payload of every single thing we can sue the PRT for, even stuff we're guaranteed to lose on, and get ready to hand it off to Calle. If worst comes to worst, I want to be ready to grind all of the local PRT to a screeching halt with a mountain of lawsuits."

"I'll get right on it," Powell said with a nod. I looked at Rockson.

"Everything is running smoothly on my end," she assured me without any prompting. "I took the liberty of making sure the vehicle inspection of your bus transportation went… smoothly."

"It's been pretty successful so far," my dad added. "Movement across the city has proven to be far more effective under your fleet of buses. I've already noticed the city's public access buses become more and more empty each day."

"Good. I presume the construction is going along fine?"

Rockson nodded. "I've been working with the city council to get some of the more extravagant things you're trying to build allowed. And what I can't get to slide under the radar I've had... misplaced in your blueprints, trusting a certain cape power could conceal it. Thankfully, most seem to recognize how everything you touch turns to gold. And at least one of them I suspect is going to be running for mayor in this year's election. So rubbing elbows with you seems to be a top priority for many of the people. For everyone else, wads of cash are great motivators."

"Fantastic. I'll leave you to that. Alson?"

"What's there to say?" He asked leaning back and holding his hands out. "Your approval is still through the roof. With the drop off in gang crime, your whole territory is becoming one of the safest locations in the city despite it seedy population. Word has gotten around about the wire network you set up. The work on the Endbringer shelters is nearly complete. That girl you hired has dived into her work with a passion I've only seen with Tinkers. She's got ideas in spades and so far has only been limited by the budget you've given me."

"When the new building is opened up I'll be able to expand that budget. For now, I want you to go tell her and Parian to start preparing stock for their new stores. The grand opening is going to be a hell of a day." Alson nodded.

Finally, I looked at my father with a smile.

"What's up kiddo?" He asked.

"I need twelve mild-mannered guys willing to deal drugs."

"I thought you already got your drug dealings set up," he said, a slight disapproval creeping into his voice.

"I did, when I was just looking to control the drugs in my territory. But now I'm looking to get drugs off my streets."

"What are you are going to do with more drug dealers?" He asked, confused.

"Everything I can. Once I reveal my work in the Boat Graveyard, the Empire will realize I'm not using this truce to sit idly. And who knows how the PRT is going to handle it. I need to start moving pieces into place to prepare for that. I'm taking tighter control of the drugs than before, designing it to attack the Empire's drug income directly. Which is why I need these guys."

"Alright, if you've got it figured out then I can put it together."

"Good. Now, tell whoever is driving this limo to go to this location," I held up a scrap of paper. "There is a thing I need to finish there, then I've got something interesting to show you."

"What are you doing Taylor?" Dad asked me while I had my eyes closed to work. We were in an abandoned theatre that someone had run back in the day. It was overshadowed by much taller buildings on each side, but the two-story playhouse was still noticeable on the streets of Brockton Bay as one of the oddities from back in the day.

"Just finishing up some things I couldn't do from my hospital room," I answered. Some things were just a little too complicated to be handled through my wire network. At least, not without attracting a significant amount of attention.

"I don't see anything though," he said looking around. "This building is falling apart."

"It should, its part of why this is going to look so cool." I paused a moment and concentrated, putting real effort into making what I need. When I finished, I stepped back and smiled. "Okay, now watch this."

I walked through backstage area towards a line of levers, ropes, and dials. I started manipulating them in a very precise order.

Even though it would look like I was just playing with old pieces of stage equipment, the reality was that I was putting in a passcode. I couldn't make computers, but I've been practising a lot with clockwork mechanical things while in the hospital. Enough that I could make it so a certain series of levers pushed pieces of my clockwork engine in certain places. And pulling on a rope could wind up a massive spring or two. And turning a dial could change an orientation of one piece or another.

Then, if everything was hit just so, the clockwork engine would start. I pulled on the last lever and the sound of ticking filled the room as the floor began to slide back, revealing a set of stairs.

"You made this in the hospital?" My dad asked, completely bewildered. I smiled as I started down the steps.

"I had a lot of time to consider my next moves. Between working on the building in the Boat Graveyard, I've been setting these up. I have three more like this all over the city, a little place to hide away if I need. But it's also going to help me stage attacks against the Empire as a brand new, not affiliated with Taylor Hebert, vigilante."

"You are something else," my dad said, shaking his head. He raised his eyebrows as if still trying to wrap his head around what was going on.

"That's nothing, wait until you see what I'm going to do to the rest of my buildings. I've spent nearly a month working on that building in the Boat Graveyard, that alone is going to floor you."

"After seeing the things you've been purchasing on the side for it?" My dad asked raising an eyebrow. "I wouldn't bet against you."

Last edited: Jun 3, 2018

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Threadmarks 38: Future Planning New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 29, 2018

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#126

"I'm glad you accepted my offer," I said with a knowing smile. Mac, one of the greasy drug dealers in my Lords, ran a hand through his hair nervously. He was missing the tip of his pointer finger from when he and the other Lords thought they could stop paying me when I first got into the hospital. It was a mistake neither he nor the other Lords were going to make again, even if they could.

"Didn't think I had a choice boss," he replied. "So, uh, what's this all about."

I walked around the floor of the empty warehouse in a circle, my cane tapping on the ground as I went. Mac shifted uneasily.

"I want to make you the sole drug lord of the Lords, then ship you to New York."

"I don't understand."

"It's very simple. The time has come for me to get drugs of my streets, but that doesn't mean I can't put them on some else's street. As we speak, the other two drug lords I propped up are being arrested, making you the only drug lord under my employ currently. So what I wish to do now is to have you grab as men guys as you can, grab as many drugs as you can, then head down to New York City where you'll find your new life and fortune. You won't have to pay me anymore, if that helps."

"I, uh, guess that's interesting," he said carefully. I raised an eyebrow. "But we control your streets. If you ship me out of here, then other drug dealers are just going to take our place."

"It's already being taken care of."

I knocked on the metal door three times, paused, then knocked twice. I was wearing a costume, of sorts. The other costumes I tended to wear were a little too noticeable for what I was here to do. So instead, I wore a long black trench coat buttoned up with the collar raised and a wide-brimmed black hat that made it hard to even tell I was wearing a simple domino mask.

A metal panel in the door slid back and a person's face appeared behind it, their eyes widening when they saw me. The door opened and I slipped inside.

The location was hidden underneath an old office building that hadn't had a basement until I showed up. Now, that basement was being put to good use.

Multiple black leather couches were located around the centre of the room, each located around a table with an open flame lamp sitting on it. Along the edges, beds were placed in alcoves in the walls with partially see-through curtains able to be drawn around them. Most of the couches and beds were occupied by people smoking and relaxing. Enjoying their stay at this little drug den.

In every corner of the city, not even leaving the Empire's territory to be spared, I had been opening up drug dens just like this one. Each one specific to a different kind of drug. I had taken over all of the Lord's contacts, and not just their drug-related ones. Also their weapon dealers. Many drug dens had places where the drugs were being made in a secret back room.

This cut down on a lot of my expenses in a number of ways. With the accountants I had set up inside each Lord's set up it was a lot easier to change the operation and keep track of the men I would end up needing. Without dealers on the streets, without a majority of the armed muscle needed, and without needing nearly as much transport, I was saving a ton of cash now. And the best part was, instead of people getting pressured into doing drugs, only the people that already wanted them would come and find the drug dens.

Good people would get to live their lives happily, and other people would get to do their drugs without hurting others. It was a degree of separation that I liked very much.

I walked up to the dispensary, a desk fitted with metal bars manned by one guy that handled the transactions. Behind him, three armed former ABB members were playing poker in the back of the small room. Recognizing me instantly, the guy running the dispensary hurried to put the day's profits inside an unmarked bag and handed it to me. I nodded silently and took it.

I wouldn't always come for the profits myself, there were far too many and it was far too time consuming. But swinging by occasionally would keep them on their toes. I continued to hold on to a majority of the drug trade in my streets, and I got to undermine the drug trade in the Empire's streets while I was at it.

Who knew not being on drugs could be so much fun?

The sun was setting now as I rode in the back of the limo. So far, Panacea, Parian, and Emma in her costume had joined me. I sat back and watched them talk in amusement as I waited for us to get to the last person I needed to pick up.

"I still think Mistress would be the perfect name," Parian stated.

"I am not going to call myself Mistress," Emma protested. "I'm a Tinker that's going to be selling self-defence tools, my name should be about that."

"Mistress of Defence," Panacea suggested.

"No."

"Front Liner?" Parian suggest. "Waitresses are sometimes called that, and it would double as being a front line of defence."

"Oh, how about The Help," Panacea shot back.

"I kind of like just The Waitress," I added, tossing in my two cents.

"Working Girl."

"Bikini Armour."

"Scarlet Woman."

"Courtesan."

"Lady of Light Armour."

"Wrench."

"Chestplate."

"How about you go fuck yourselves?" Emma suggested. Panacea and Parian let out a laugh.

"But seriously though," I said, leaning forward. "I do like Mistress of Defence. Athena might be a good one, though doesn't fit the costume we've picked."

"I've got it," Panacea said, raising a finger partway into the air then pointing at Emma. "Helen of Troy."

There was a pause. "I… I kind of like it," Emma admitted.

"I think Mistress of Defence works better," Parian stated, looking away. I smiled and shook my head with a happy sigh.

The limo came to a stop, and a few seconds later the driver opened the door for someone on the outside. I smiled as I saw Canary walking towards us. I moved over to give her more room to get in.

She looked wary around me and the others. That, and a little ragged. I can't imagine her stay in prison was all that comfortable even after Calle got her out of that horrible contraption they put her in.

"Hello Canary, how was your trial?" I asked.

"Unusually quick," She responded carefully. "Thanks to that lawyer, which I guess was you?"

"That's right," I stated. "Your fans reached out to me, let me know about your situation. So I stepped in and gave you a fighting chance."

"I guess I should thank you then," Canary said, holding out a hand. "And ask what it is you want with me?"

I shook her hand and smiled kindly. "Even though I got you out of jail, you might be legally attacked again. Not to mention, not many venues are going to willing to put you on the stage now. Not with what happened. That's where I step in." I gestured to the other people sitting in the car with me.

"Canary, met Parian, Panacea, and Mistress of Defence."

"I didn't agree to that name!"

"Those two work for me," I explained, ignoring Emma's protests. "And Panacea's a friend. The setup is pretty simple. I support them financially and legally, and they sometimes work on a project I kick their way. Two other rogues in the city have contacted me to negotiate a deal. It's a growing setup. I can bring you into the fold, but obviously things are going to be a little different with your power."

"I could see how that would be the case," Canary stated, nodding slowly.

"So instead, I'm opening my own venue. You'll perform for me at these places, hopefully attract other musicians to perform here in Brockton Bay. You'll be free to make whatever kind of songs you like and otherwise act freely, but any band members you need or anything of the sort is going to be up to you to organize."

"I've done some reading on the way here, about you," Canary said slowly, looking me up and down. "You're not going to make me use my power for anything illegal, right?"

"After all the trouble I went to getting you out of jail?" I asked with a smile. "No, this is a business venture, not some sort of gang initiation or some sort.

"Which brings me to my question," Panacea said, moving forward in her seat. "Why am I here?"

I looked at her, cocking my head slightly. "Because I wanted to show you something cool. That, and I thought maybe you'd like to open your own store with me one day. Doesn't hurt to show you around if you do."

"And what would I do working for you?" Panacea asked dryly.

"Don't know. A retail clinic? Healthcare system is supremely stupid. Figure you inject a few hundred CCs of fresh capitalism into it and you can do pretty much anything."

"I'll think I'll stick with the hospital."

"Suit yourself, I've got free parking."

"Your hospital doesn't have free parking?" Canary asked, shooting Panacea a look.

"Not since the government told them they couldn't price certain medicines over an amount they set," I responded dryly, cutting off Panacea's response. "They added in the paid parking to compensate for the loss in revenue."

"How do you know that?" Panacea asked, looking at me strangely.

"I… might have considered buying the hospital or building my own. But hospitals are just a gross mess of paperwork and nasty government regulations and all sorts stupid things. My… real estate agent refuses to even consider what it would take to purchase something like a hospital. And in the end, hospitals basically make no money anyway. The lucky ones make one percent of every dollar they earn." I made a face. "It's disgusting really, I'd rather stick to my profitable stuff."

The limo jerked to a stop and I smiled

"Well girls," I said, pushing open my car door with my cane. "Here we are."

I stepped out of the car to the sound of the ocean nearby and a construction crew working on my building's upper floors. I smiled as I turned around and saw the first six floors of my magnificent structure stretching the length of entire city blocks towards the ocean from what used to be nothing but ugly ruin. Windows and railings lined every floor in all directions. Mounted light were being installed around it, so the white and rich green paint could be seen at all times of day.

The four of them went silent as they stared at it. The building had been in the news a few times before, but until I go public with what exactly the large building is the news about it will be pretty ignorable.

"Welcome to the resort I spent every second of every day in that damned hospital room working on," I said happily as I walked up behind them. "Pool, playground, and airsoft gun arena on the first floor. Casinos, bars, arcades, and restaurants on the second. My Rogue Gallery on the third. More fun stuff on the fourth. Clubs, movie theatres, and general stages on the fifth. The sixth and seventh floor will be general hotel rooms, with everything up from there being VIP exclusive areas.

"Welcome to My House."

Destroy the tourism industry my ass, Piggot.

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Threadmarks 39: A Guided Tour New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 29, 2018

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#127

I couldn't help but grin and twirl my cane as I lead them around the interior of the building. I had purposely been putting off coming myself since getting out just so I could walk through it now with the others. So in a way, it was also my first time seeing the whole building, even if I had been using my power on it from the hospital. But again, somethings were just better done in person. Which was exactly what I was doing as I walked through the building. Just a few final touches.

Of course, the many functions of the places weren't up and running just yet. Like the pool being empty.

"How deep is this?" Canary called from the bottom of the pool.

"Deep enough had I been one state over I would need to require people to sign waivers to get in," I called back, looking down on her and the others from the lip of the empty pool.

"Is this a secret compartment?" Mistress called as she stuck her head inside the wide square hole in the wall of the pool. It was much closer to the shallow end than where Canary and Panacea were.

"It's going to be an underwater lounge room," I answered, impatiently tapping my foot. I got being inside an empty pool and all was cool, but I got other things to show them. "People will have to dive under the water and go through that doorway to get there. Food and non-alcoholic drinks will be served by wait staff underneath it."

"How is the staff and food going to get in and out?" Mistress's voice got more distant as she wandered deeper into the room.

"An airtight corridor keeping the room and outside of it in two different pressure systems."

The set would require one door to be closed at either end of the corridor so that air couldn't escape, keeping the lounge room from filling up with water. It was also a way for me to quickly drain the pool if I ever needed to for any reason. Though a normal person wouldn't be able to open both doors of the pressure corridor once the proper systems were installed, I could use my power to force them open. The water from the pool would then rush through the lounge and into the hallway where it would flow into grating lining the sides of the room.

"What is this for?" Parian called, way on the other side of the pool. I sighed.

"I'm calling it the manhole. Up here there is a matching circular hole big enough to fit most people. It's the opening to the tube that ends where you are now. Water pumps will send you shooting through the tube and straight into the open water, where you will then swim back up to the surface. Now, can we please go see some of the other things I've set up?"

"What are these pole sticking out of the ground for?" Panacea asked. I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"This one was one of my favourites to design," I stated, leading them into the next room. "A four-level open space airsoft and laser tag arena. I spent a lot of time looking into defensive and offensive strategies, then made it so the arena was best suited for a variety of them. Each level can fire down to or up to another level, with trap doors between floors and hidden rooms making it all the more interesting. Rope and wood plank bridges will crisscross all over the arena, connecting the different levels. I don't have them up yet, but they're coming. And probably some zip lines too. And In this space," I pushed open a wide door with the end of my cane. "Is where the rules will be explained as per what kind of game the people chose to play. Also where people will be equipped with their tools."

I walked over to the wall and hooked my cane around a handle sticking out of it. With a quick pull, I revealed the weapon display contained within.

"You got casual play," I started, gesturing to the first drawer. It included airsoft handguns and long rifles as well as eyewear. "Intense." I closed the previous drawer and pulled open the second one. That included full helmets, some chest padding, semi-auto rifles, and sniper rifles. "And my personal favourite, Insurgence."

I pulled open the final drawer to the sound of an audible gasp from Canary and Panacea. In this drawer was full body padding meant to resemble armour, shotguns, airsoft landmines, fully auto machine guns, and even grenades. Still waiting to hear back if mortars are a thing in airsoft, but that might be a little overkill.

"Jesus Christ," Mistress said, walking up and picking up the airsoft model of an AK-47. "Did you go halfway on anything?"

"You haven't seen the actual course yet," I responded impishly. I grabbed an airsoft Tommy gun and pointed it in the air, one hand still on my cane. "Anyone want to go a round?"

Canary, Panacea, and Parian all shared a silent look with each other, but Mistress grabbed a second AK and pointed them both in the air before saying,

"Fuck yeah."

"...I think I'll sit out." Panacea said.

"Agreed," Parian answered with a nod.

"This really isn't my thing," Canary said tentatively. I looked at Mistress. She shrugged.

"More for me then," she said. I sighed and shook my head.

"No, it's no fun if I can't show it off to everyone. And besides, there are other places to show you before the day is over. Real shame though, I wanted to get your opinion on where the Gatling guns should be mounted."

"Welcome to the third floor," I stated as we exited a stairwell. I only very briefly touched on the second floor as there wasn't anything to see there just yet. I was already arranging some deals to fill out the empty storefronts with restaurants, casino, bars, arcades, and various other things. But like most of the place, everything was pretty bare bones at the moment.

I continued with my tour. "This whole place is dedicated to the Rogues that take me up on my offer of protection and patronship. The Rogue Gallery"

This one I liked a whole lot for various reasons. There was still work to be done, as right now the walls were bare and the floor a dirty grey while I waited for the carpet I ordered to come in. But when it was done dark blue carpets and walls would give the whole place a dark look to set itself apart from the brightly lit first two floors. The entire floor would only be lit by blue neon lights lining the floors and ceilings, making it even darker while not letting people get confused.

The hallways were set up like city streets, forking and leading down different alleys of The Rogue Gallery. Individual shops stood side by side, with space for their own neon signs to be placed above it. On the inside, there would be normal lighting for obvious reasons.

"Wow," Parian said. "I… don't know what to say. I thought the pool had a lot of weird ideas, but this is really incredible."

"You haven't seen the best part," I replied.

"Why is there always a follow up better part?" Panacea asked.

"Because anything less would be no fun." I shot her a grin. She rolled her eyes with a laugh.

"Hrm, going to have to try hard to top that thing with the airsoft guns," Mistress stated with a nod.

"In that case, right this way." I gestured down on lane of the Gallery before I started walking. The four of them started following me. "You see," I began as I walked. "This whole section is separated into street corners. Hopefully, I can make each corner specific to a kind of product being sold, but we'll have to see about that. All these street corners surround an inner circle. A circle given to my really close friends that work with me. It has some special features I've been meaning to show you."

"What I want to know is how you paid for all of this," Canary stated. "I mean, I get that you're rich, but you're not that rich. Not from what I've seen anyway."

"I haven't yet," I admitted. "I've actually nearly run out of my money on just these seven floors, and I'm planning on having twenty in total. But I'm slowly making my way, hiring the manpower and my materials as soon as I can. I've been getting massive amounts of cash from investors, particularly someone here in the city. On top of that, I've cut deals to the casinos previously owned by the ABB to give them new locations on my second floor, The Strip. I skipped past it on the tour because there wasn't anything there. But between all the restaurants, other casinos, bars, and otherwise looking to open branches here I'm making more and more agreements that make me more cash. Then, when I a little further along in development, I'll reveal my progress to the world more publically than before and start taking early reservations for both general rooms and VIP rooms. Then, if I absolutely have to, I'll take another business loan. But I don't think I'll need it.

"God, you make it look easy," Parian muttered.

"I have good people working under me," I answered slyly. "One of which has actually hired entire teams of men to help him and help me deal with every building code and safety regulation this place is going to be subject to. Of which, there is no small amount." I bit my tongue before I start ranting about the government regulation again. My father learned that was quickly becoming a sore subject the hard way.

"I'd say it also helps when you have a power that constructs easily ninety percent of everything here," Panacea added dryly.

"Here we are," I said, gesturing to the inner circle and ignoring Panacea's remark. The inner circle of shops were larger, more grand compared to the places around it. And they all went around in a wide circle, as the name would imply. "Follow me," I strode forward again and went into the shop I was prepping for Emma's use. I took them to the back room, an area set up with lots of works space, plenty of outlets, her own bathroom, and some basic bedding in case there was some project she wanted to work on overnight.

But most importantly there were a series of dials and levers on the wall.

"Now," I began I started to pull and twist on everything. "The reason these shops are in a circle like this is because these shops will have a secret access to my exclusive area. A place for just me, my close friends, and a few choice people I approve of." I pulled on the last lever and a small panel in the wall opened up, revealing a turn crank. I grabbed a hold of it and gave it a few good twists, the action turning a complicated series of gears inside the wall that wound up several dozen springs in the engines. When I let go, a loud but muffled ticking noise could be heard throughout the room as the wall began to fall away.

When it was gone, it revealed a circular room large enough to have been a small house, and a domed ceiling high enough that I knew it stretched clear through the floor above. There were lots of rectangular gaps in the walls where panes of glass will eventually go. Through those gaps, it was possible to see the complex series of gears that surrounded the whole room. The clockwork mechanisms weren't functional just yet. I was still muddling my way through the complicated mess wrapping them around a circular room like this caused. But hopefully, I would be able to get it working in the next few days.

There was still a lot of work to be done here as well, because right now the name of the room didn't make sense without the purple carpets and matching furniture. All the same, I strode several paces into the room and turned around with what had to have been the widest smile I had all day and said,

"Welcome to the Amethyst Lounge."

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Threadmarks 40: New Hires New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 29, 2018

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#128

I tapped my pen against the desk as I stared at the wall of numbers in front of me. Everyone else was busy working. Mistress of Defence was setting up her future workshop, Parian was putting together new lines of clothing, and Canary was doing whatever she needed to do to prepare for her opening night performance several weeks from now, depending on how fast I could get the rest of this place done. Relying on men to move everything in place was agonizingly slow and expensive. The state had raised the minimum wage a few years back just a few dollars. I never realized how much that cut into my wallet until I had to hire this many guys to work.

Between that and all the taxes I end up having to pay for my properties its really no wonder most functioning business in the Bay has some sort of criminal activity behind it. It's near impossible to pay everything otherwise.

I bit the inside of my cheek and considered. If My House was going to be as profitable as I hoped it would be, then I was very quickly going to start being in the crosshairs of new tax regulations imposed on companies of that size. I would need to do something with my money if I wanted to avoid that unfair cut of my cash.

Besides, I've already done more to help this city in a few months than the actual government has done in years, why should I have to pay taxes they'll spend on trying to nail me?

There were lots of legal ways to avoid it, but all very difficult. You hear all the time about offshore bank accounts in the Bahamas companies use to avoid taxes, but that's a bit of a misnomer. I could do the same thing by moving it to Jersey or Ireland, great places that have entire sections of their economy running on large companies avoiding unfair taxes. But once the money is there, it's going to be difficult for me to use it. It might make for a great rainy day fund, sitting peacefully until I touch it. But once that money comes out, the good ol' US of A will be waiting with a butcher knife to take whats mine.

No, I needed something more efficient.

I started writing more numbers down with increasing frustration. I've been able to slide past because I was making so little in terms of profit. I needed to stay in that profit bracket or I'll find myself subject to the same taxes that killed a lot of larger businesses in the city not that long ago. Very soon I was about to surpass the maximum amount of workers I could have before I was subject to another tax. And all the permits I had to have for My House wasn't cheap either.

"Fuck," I swore. "At least Lung was up front when he wanted to take my money."

I leaned back in my seat and took off my glasses, rubbing the bridge of my nose in frustration. The easiest solution for now would be to find more and more business expenses to spend my money on. And luckily, there was still a whole city of dilapidated buildings to make a business expense.

At the same time, I tripled my father's paycheck. Another business expense. And I bet he would love a silver lined retirement account.

Once I was done putting the numbers where I needed them, I stood up, stretched, and briefly considered how difficult it would be to relocate my company to a more business-friendly city. But no, I had already invested far too much time in fixing this place. And besides, this was my home.

Suddenly, my phone went off. I pulled it out and answered.

"This is Taylor."

"The two rogues are here," a female voice answer. My secretary, I remembered. It was a strange feeling to have a secretary. Just telling people I had one had a similar feeling to tell cashiers to keep the change. Uptight, but necessary all the same.

"Send them in," I answered before hanging up. I quickly put all the papers I had been working on back into my desk before leaning back as I waited for the two of them to come into my new office.

The double doors opened to reveal two very different characters. The first was a very skinny, African American girl wrapped in plant life. A mask made of leaves to cover her eyes and forehead, tree bark around her arms, legs, and torso. Her shoulders and upper thighs were bare, but I could tell why. It was a similar problem I had in designing some of my costumes. Having armour around the shoulder, waist, and thighs and really limit your movement. It wasn't so much of a problem for me, as I could control the material itself. But I could see why she would want it. She was built like a gymnast, just from what I could see.

The guy that walking next to her, in contrast, was very tall built like a tank. Broad shoulders, thick arms, and a bit of red hair sticking out from behind a domino mask made of what looked like twisted metal. In fact, his whole costume seemed to be made out of metal and glass that looked like someone had partially melted before freezing again.

"Good morning," I said with a smile. I gestured to the seats in front of them. "I understand you two are looking join my rogue program."

"Yes," the large guy said, stepping forward and carefully sitting down in the chair I had offered. From what I could see of his face, he looked a little surprised it held his weight. If I hadn't designed the chair myself, I would have to. The girl that came with him, tentatively sat down next to him while avoiding my gaze. I looked at her curiously.

"So I'm guessing you're Viscosity," I said, pointing to the large one. "Which makes you Eden?"

The plant cape nodded. I offered her a smile.

"Well, then I guess before we begin I'll ask why you're interested in my Rogue program."

"Why?" Viscosity asked. His voice was deeper than I expected.

I nodded. "There are a couple different deals I could set up depending on what it is your looking to get out of this. If you are just in it for monetary gain, that's one thing. But considering you two have gotten into fights more than a few times I'm guessing that's not why you're here."

"You know about those," Viscosity stated, a frown appearing on his face.

"I do my best," I answered evenly. Viscosity sighed.

"We had a little problem. I slipped up, someone got hurt. Now the PRT is after us. Almost got us on a couple of occasions."

"It was an accident," Eden murmured barely above a whisper. She was pulling on a chipped piece of bark. It was then I noticed the plants were moving around her in an almost nervous fashion. Interesting.

"I see. Can you explain what happened?' I asked. Viscosity glanced at Eden before looking back at me.

"I leave behind a lot of sharp edges when I'm not careful with my power. Someone slipped, got hurt. Eden got scared. And when that happens, her power reacts badly. Things might have snowballed a little."

I nodded. That was pretty close to what I had understood reading through the PRT's carefully worded statement on the incident. Two unidentified capes nearly took off a man's arm, putting him in intensive care for the time being. Eight other people were experiencing Locked-In Syndrome due to an unknown toxin.

What the PRT didn't release in that statement was that each one of them had been an Empire member. And the location of the incident, from what I could gather, was them breaking into the apartment. Do a little digging and I found that apartment belonged to an African American girl and a very tall, broad-shouldered boy with red hair. Both fresh out of high school a year ahead of their class and recently enrolled in the community college. It wasn't hard to figure out what happened from there.

The Empire will have to be dealt with eventually.

"I see. Well, don't worry about that too much," I said with a wide smile. "I'm no fan of the PRT, let alone when they're coming after you like this. I'll make sure you don't have problems with them."

"That would be great," Viscosity said, letting out a small relieved sigh.

"Now, how about you explain to me your powers so I know how best to brand your services."

"Er, okay, I'll go first." Viscosity sat forward in his chair and reached into a pocket on the side of his suit. He pulled out a small block of metal and set it down on my desk. "I'm not sure how to describe it, but when I grab solid things and activate the power this happens."

He pulled on the metal cube with his fingers. I watched in fascination as the whole thing began to stretch and twist like it was some sort of putty or play-doh. And wherever his fingers touched a glassy substance was left behind, giving the whole thing a kind of burnt glass look.

Viscosity took it in both hands and began shaping it into a rough outline of a knife before placing it on the desk and sitting back. Carefully, I reached forward and grabbed it to examine it.

Aside from nearly cutting my hand just to hold, my gloves protecting me from the sharp edges, it was also interesting structurally. The end result was very unstructured, but in a strangely organized way. Like chaos being pointed in a direction. Curious.

I set it down and looked at Eden, giving a gentle smile in the hopes it might make her more willing. When she didn't move, Viscosity placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a reassuring nod. Eden visibly swallowed and held out a hand.

Off the tip of her finger, a purple and pink rose began to grow out of a vine she had wrapped around her finger. She plucked it off before handing it to me nervously. I took it and examined it for a moment, unable to use my power on something to freshly plucked. I held it up to my nose and smelled it. Coffee, strangely. Not my first guess.

"I, uh, have a growth aura." She said. "The plants grow while I'm near them, even when I don't really want them to if I'm not careful. I can give them push them in a certain way, coax them to do certain things or guide them gently. But if I get upset sometimes I…"

"The plants are connected to her," Viscosity said, taking over for her. "If she feels attacked, they try to protect her."

"Which is what got those guys still in the hospital," I said, understanding. Eden bit her lip. I got up from my chair and pulled out some contracts from my desk. "You can either lease your stores from me and operate with complete independence, or you can sign on as a rogue working for me. With the first one, you're responsible for your own materials, your own branding, and various other things. With the second, I'll supply basically everything but will also dictate your logos and might step in to limit what you can sell."

"And we'll give you a portion of the profits?" Viscosity asked warily.

"Nope. I'm charging admission fees, and you guys are an attraction. You don't owe me a dime."

Viscosity looked at Eden quizzically. She nodded. Viscosity looked back at me.

"We'll take the second option."

"Fantastic." My smile widened as I pushed the contracts in front of them. "Just sign the dotted line."

Last edited: Jun 3, 2018

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Stravickan Ovmahn

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May 31, 2018

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#156

The room was filled with the gentle sound of several dozen machines ticking at once. It was relaxing, in a way. I could close my eyes and focus on my work. Making clockwork gear was a difficult, but productive use of my time. So far I've just been making basic engines, of varying size, to accomplish simple tasks. Opening doors, making something spin. Now it was time for something a little more complicated.

I had been working for hours when I felt the door to my secret lair inside the playhouse getting opened by someone who clearly knew the combination. Only one person that could be. I moved away from my work table, all the different clockwork parts slowly winding down without my power to move them.

"I brought pizza," my dad said, waltzing into the room with two boxes stacked in hand. Either he overestimated how much pizza I was going to eat or I severely underestimated how much he was.

"Sounds good," I answered with a small nod. He set the pizza boxes down on the table and turned to look at me, smiling.

"So, come up with anything interesting yet."

"Maybe," I answered with a sigh. "Been trying to come up with some sort of clockwork mechanism that I can wear. It's a bit more difficult than it should be, considering how many other things I've made for myself to wear. I've come up with this much."

I walked back over to the table where I was working and struggled to stick my hand into the device I had created.

It was made of a bronze-like material Emma insisted was as hard as steel and just as heat resistant. A matching colour glove was placed at the end of the long tube meant to fit my forearm. The casing around the clockwork components had to be a little more than half an inch thick to have enough space to be functional. The end result weighed several pounds, and in the hours I had worked I only managed to make the one.

"What does it do?" Dad asked me. I grabbed a slice of pizza as I pointed my arm at the wall. Using my power to pull an internal trigger on the device, a thin metal rod burst out of my arm with a sharp twang as the powerful spring inside went off. The metal bolt had enough energy to stick into the wall where spring loaded prongs burst out and latched on. A few seconds later, the thin strip of metal wire attached to the prong began getting rapidly reeled in by the spin of the internal gears. The wire pulled taut and ground to a halt as neither me nor the internal mechanisms had enough strength to pull the bolt out of the wall without me disengaging the prongs that held it in place.

I took a bite of my pizza with my other hand.

"A grappling hook?" He asked.

"Something like that. Until I get more pieces in place it wouldn't have enough power to pull me anywhere."

"And what do you plan on doing with this?"

I slid into the chair in my workspace, pulling the clockwork gauntlet of my arm as I did.

"I'm seeing about making a new cape."

"Another one? How many do you need?"

"A few hundred wouldn't hurt," I replied dryly. I shook my head and sighed. "The Empire is still out there, doing things. I got peace for now, but as soon as I go fully public with My House they're going to realize that I'm taking this time to prepare for the inevitable fight. So I need a new cape, someone completely unrecognizable as being tied back to me, to attack the Empire. I'm already undermining their drug trade, with this new cape I'll start undermining their power base."

"Maybe you should relax a little," my father said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You are still recovering from your heart surgery and hardly eat anything anymore." He gestured to the pizza I had taken one bite of then set aside. I hadn't intended on getting back to it. "Not to mention your sleep patterns. I've noticed you staying up all night sometimes. You never seemed tired so I didn't mention it, but your starting to get circles under your eyes now."

"I've got too much work to do to sleep some nights," I answered. "It's fine. And as for my heart, I need to start exercising so it can get used to working hard again anyway. Which brings me to that person I asked you to find."

My dad sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper.

"Amanda Godot," he said tiredly. "Tall, lanky, and former student of Crane the Harmonious. Said she was willing to train you for the asking price, provided you can get her a first class ticket out of Britain."

"Sounds good to me," I said with a nod. "Can you get it done?"

"Yes. How long do you plan on staying here?"

"A few more hours. This is much harder than making a room spin."

My father sighed. "Alright Taylor, but try to get some sleep tonight."

"Will do."

He got up, taking one of the boxes of pizza with him and leaving the other behind for me. I ignored it and dove right back into my work. I had a lot of stuff to get through if I was going to be ready in time for the Empire.

It struck me that I hadn't planned for the PRT yet. They were much worse than a gang, and I hadn't done anything to keep them occupied yet. That would have to change. I set my mechanisms to the side and started planning.

The sun was beginning to peak over the lip of my buildings as I sat down at the table in the special dining area I had on top of the apartment building. Across from me, City Council Woman Natalie Stone and the head of Brockton Bay Central Bank Robert Densuez.

I had elected to wear my red suit with the tophat today. It was better reflective of the image I was looking to give off.

"Let me just say what an honour it is to be invited to your prestigious apartment complex," Densuez said, flashing me a charming smile. He was the kind of guy that seemed like he had his teeth whitened regularly. That along with his slim cut tailor suit he was the picture image of what came to mind when someone said 'handsome executive'.

"Thank you," I said with a slight smile. "But it really isn't necessary, come a few days no one will even remember these apartment buildings."

"Yes, whispers have been spreading around about that eyesore your constructing on the Boat Graveyard," Stone said wistfully. "Would, by chance, this meeting have anything to do with that?"

"Not yet," I answered evenly. "But if you would like a VIP room arranged for the grand opening night, I'm sure we can come to an agreement."

"I'm more interested in why you actually called us here," Densuez said. "If I wasn't mistaken, the phrase charity ball was dropped somewhere."

"Yes," Stone agreed. "I'm also curious."

"Well, it's quite simple, if a bit unorthodox." I leaned forward in my seat and tapped a finger on the table. "Council Woman, I recently learned of your husband's charity for the drug addicted in this city. I would like to show my support for his efforts by sponsoring a charity dinner with your bank, Mr Densuez, as the hosting venue. I would, of course, make a large contribution myself to the cause, and invite the Wards of the city to attend."

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Threadmarks 42: Tech New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 31, 2018

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#157

I walked down the lane of the Rogue Gallery with my cane tapping on the floor softly. I've made a bit of progress since the time I first showed it off to the others, getting the carpets in and some people to paint the walls. But most of my time had been spent getting the next floors prepared. The sooner I got this place set up the better.

I smiled as I walked past Eden's shop. She was kneeling on the ground, seemingly trying to coax a small bonsai tree to grow an apple. I look past her to her display cases and saw a few more like it on display. The tiny little trees growing fruits like oranges, lemons, and grapes.

"Good morning Eden," I said. She looked up, surprised to hear my voice.

"H-hi. You're, um, up early."

I glanced at my watch. "Have a few hours before school I wanted to spend it checking up on people. I wanted to let you know my attorney is nearly done clearing your problems with the PRT. They won't be bothering you again."

Eden let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you."

"No problem. Although, once he is done you should see about getting an official rogue licensing from the PRT. It isn't really necessary for what your power does, not until bill RW-13 goes up to vote in a few months anyway. But if things go south and you can't work here any more, it helps to be on the good side of the PRT."

She nodded stiffly but didn't say anything. I offered a smile and started walking away. I caught a glimpse of Viscosity working in his own shop. It seemed he was taking a modern art approach to his power. His little shop was dominated by a large tree made of twisted metal sitting in the centre.

I spun my cane around in my hand once before striding around the corner towards Emma's shop.

She worked fast, I'll give her that. Already her display cases had batons and combat knives. On the wall, she had metal staffs and 'ornamental' swords. Most of her space was still empty, but I wouldn't count on it staying that way for long.

I gave them a brief look over as I moved to the back of the shop. In terms of style, they were all pretty close. Black and grey metals with a little bit of blue for touch colour if she included any at all. I knew from the material request records Alson passed onto me each week that she was mostly using cheap steel, copper, nickel, limestone, and silicon. Though to what degree, I had no idea.

I stepped into Mistress' workspace to see electricity flying across the room. I heard her swear before turning off whatever device she was using. The blue electric bolts jumping around the room slowly faded away as a whirring sound dropped off. I raised an eyebrow as Mistress looked over at me and swallowed.

"Taylor," she said. "I was, ah, just doing some work."

"I noticed," I answered dryly. "Have any luck with anything yet."

"Yes!" She spun around and start digging around on a shelf already packed with unfinished projects she had apparently started. I watched carefully as she pulled out several strange looking devices and set them on the table. One was a silver cylinder the size of an AA battery. She then pulled out what looked like a sword hilt with a thin pole in place of the blade, no thicker than a pencil.

"So, I've been trying to deal with the energy problem I have when it comes to making things myself," She began explaining. She started making adjustments to the device that was shooting off the electricity bolts when I came in.

"Steam power works best when I need to move a lot of things at once, the benefits of just being a powerful engine. But for small stuff, I've been trying to get this electricity set up working."

"Okay?" I tapped my fingers on my cane, not seeing where she was going with this. She paused for a moment, considering my body language, then jumped back into it. She lifted up the cylinder to show me.

"I made this battery out of a special mix of metals and normal battery acid. They react with each other much more efficiently than anything else. It can hold much more energy than your normal battery."

"How much more?"

"Eh, enough that if anything ruptures its casing it will explode."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Its casing is strong though," she added hurriedly. "It would take more than a bullet to break the casing. I think." She shook her head. "Anyway, that's not the point, look at this." She turned around and placed the battery in the strange device on the table. It was held between the tips of two curved metal prongs attached to a strange platform made of white and black metals. The whole set up rested on a silver canister with built-in valves and what looked to be a Bunsen Burner underneath.

"I made a highly magnetic alloy," she explained. "Something stronger than what you can buy anywhere else. A specialized core, with a specialize coil, encased inside this super magnet, and-"

"You've created an electromagnetic generator made of specialized alloys," I finished. "It's clever. But how do you get the rotating motion you need?"

"It doesn't take much," she replied. She reached forward and turned on the burner underneath her device. She used a tool that looked like a long pair of tweezers to produce a spark that ignited the gas. In just a few seconds, the whirring sound followed by steam getting released out the values of the silver canister began to fill the room with noise and hot air. It didn't take long after that for arcs of electricity to begin leaping through the metal prongs and into the battery. Other bolts began leaping off on to other metal pieces in the room. I took a step back and held my cane away from the device, not wanting to take any chances.

After a few seconds, Mistress turned off the device and pulled on a thick glove. She used the glove to pull the hot battery out of the two prongs and held it up, revealing it having a dull red glow.

"This seems a little… haphazard." I said, taking yet another step back.

"Nothing has exploded yet," she replied. "But as cool as all that was, it was just so I could better explain what I really wanted to show you."

"It's been a little more than a week since you got started here," I said. "How fast can you make this stuff."

"Eh, a lot of it is carry over from when I working out of the basement of your apartment building. That and I also have some tools at home that let me work a bit there. And I do most of my designing and calculating in school, so there is really never anytime I can't be working on something. Especially with you in the hospital the last month."

"... I like it," I said with a smile. It was pretty much what I do nearly all of the day. Monitor my wire network, work on my buildings and clockwork mechanisms, and do my accounting while I was stuck in school. Any time that could be spent working had to be.

"Now here is the real kicker." Mistress held up the sword hilt with the metal pole and slipped her battery into the handle, causing blue lights to appear around the otherwise black handle. "I got the idea from those steel wires you have lying around," she explained. "They're hard to see, but if you look close on either side of the blade there is a thin wire like that. But each one is a little different from the other. One wire is highly conductive to electricity. The other wire is resistant to electricity but very good at conducting heat energy. So when I flip this switch…."

She hit a black nob on the side of the hilt and held up the tool. Slowly, a wire on the left side started glowing red hot, while the wire on the right began glowing neon blue. Mistress waved it through the air, leaving behind light trails as she did.

"One for burning, one for electrocuting." She said happily. "Although, using the electricity side runs the battery out faster."

"That is very interesting," I said slowly. "But not something you should show around when you meet with the PRT inspector."

"Blech. Why do I have to meet with them?"

"Because you're selling weapons. You'll have to get licensed for that. Just show them the more family-friendly stuff and try to downplay what you can do. Act like all you can make is really strong metal and some basic self-defence gear. You'll be more likely to get approved."

"And if I don't get approved?"

"I'll have my attorney make a special appeal." Also while I attack the PRT building to distract them, but that was something she didn't need to know.

"Although there is something else," I began as Mistress began powering down her energy blade.

"Hmm?"

"If, hypothetically, you had the opportunity to go out and stop crime for a day, would you do it?"

"I… guess? But wouldn't that sort of spoil what is going on here with you?"

"I'm just talking hypothetically. But if you were to create a costume, something very dissimilar to what you have here, something that no one would ever to make a connection between you and The Mistress of Defence, would you go out and do it?"

"Yeah probably," she answered. "The thought of kicking butt does sounds appealing. Why, what are you thinking?"

"Ah nothing," I said, turning away. "But in a few days, I was planning on throwing some sort of celebration near a bank or something. I think the Wards would quite enjoy joining me for it. Be a real shame if some brand new to the scene vigilante were to go out and do their jobs at that time, don't you think?"

I stretched and let out a sigh. "Anyway, I think it's time I headed off to school. See you there."

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Threadmarks 43: House Rules New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 31, 2018

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#158

"So Amy," I asked, taking a small nibble of my pizza. Three of us were sitting on the rooftop for lunch, Emma coming along for the ride. Emma was scribbling in a notebook, I was working on my accounting, and Amy was just eating as she normally did.

School life was interesting now that I had survived a gang attack. People avoided me in the hallways and didn't try to talk to me. Even the group of students I had suspected to be Wards were giving me a wide berth.

Interesting, I would have thought the PRT would have them trying even harder to get close to me. Not the other way around. I considered that maybe they were getting smarter, but quickly dismissed the absurd notion.

"Yes?" She asked, taking a bite of her own lunch.

"I was wondering if you wanted to come to my charity dinner. Maybe invite Victoria, and her friends."

"I don't know," she said, looking away. "I'll get an earful from Carol if I go. She probably won't want Vicky going either."

"I'm inviting the Wards to join me," I stated, writing down another string of numbers as I totalled yesterday's expenses. "That should be enough of an excuse right? Everyone else is going, why not you?"

"Ah, I don't know. I'll have to ask. Why are you having this thing anyway."

"Oh, a lot of reasons. Most importantly? Subtle advertising for My House."

"Advertising?" She asked quizzically.

"Yep. Lots of uptight people there. People that I bet would love to make an early reservation to my VIP rooms."

"I thought you weren't going public just yet?" Emma questioned, looking up from her work.

"Change of plans, moving up the timetable. I actually make the announcement after school today. That gives four days for that news to spread before the charity dinner. That will easily double the guests at the dinner, more double the revenue earned, and attract the eyes of people across the United States."

"So it's a PR thing?" Amy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"In small part, I've pretty much gotten the PR of the common man secure in the city. I've created jobs, provided housing, made a better bus system than the city, and will soon have my own ferry system. I'd have to open a puppy orphanage to do any better." I paused and considered. "Actually, why haven't I built a puppy orphanage?"

"Amy," a new voice said. I looked around, not realizing someone had joined us on the roof. Which turned out to be a mistake on my part, as Brandish was striding forward looking none too pleased at all.

"Amy," she repeated. "I tried calling you. There is a situation with the Empire. Your sister is already suited up."

"Sorry, phone died," Amy said hurriedly, standing up quickly and brushing herself off. She didn't even say goodbye as she darted inside, presumably to go get changed. I watched her leave before turning my attention to Brandish, who hadn't moved.

"What is the situation?" I asked. Nothing had gone off on my wire network, so it couldn't have been in my territory.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," Brandish stated. "That's a job for capes."

I raised an eyebrow. "I get the distinct impression you don't like me."

She was silent for a few seconds before she started floating upwards. "Stay away from my daughters." She said before turning around and heading back into the school. I looked at Emma, not sure how I should feel about that.

"You know," I began slowly. "I could almost interpret that as a challenge."

"Only if you want Brandish to rip your arms off," Emma answered before taking a bite of her own food.

"Brandish doesn't have super strength."

"She'll find a way."

"... I'm willing to take that chance."

"What do you think?" I asked, spinning around in the new suit. It was just like the style of my oldest suit, only with the colour scheme of my pinstripe suit and with a classic, white, wide-brimmed fedora. I didn't plan on wearing the hat very often, top hats had more space to put things in.

"I think you spend too much money on suits," Victoria said. She was lounging back in the decorative polished black chair wearing a simple white dress. Across from her, Amy was sitting in pretty much the exact same dress, only red. Victoria's boyfriend Dean had joined us, wearing a simple vest and tie.

"You're just jealous I dress better than your boyfriend," I said, pulling out the only empty seat at the small round table and sitting down.

"You do spend a lot on suits though," Amy said under her breath. I looked at her. "I keep in touch with Parian. She tells me what you give her for the suits."

"Traitor," I said with a fake scowl.

"I'm not surprised," Dean stated, looking around. "How much did the restaurant cost you?"

I shrugged. The whole place was completely empty, save for us. Everything with either polished black wood or a golden-brown fabric. The walls were currently bare.

"Only the staff for the day," I answered. "They're actually paying me to use this space of my building. They cover the furniture and everything else. But someone had to come cook our food, so I found a chef or two to do it. I cleared it with the owner, of course."

"You really didn't have to," Amy started to saw, but Victoria held up a hand.

"Amy, if your rich friend wants to spend her money on us, you let her."

"I'm glad you say that." I leaned back in my seat with a grin. "Because I would like to know your feelings on airsoft guns."

"Oh god," Amy said, going wide-eyed. Victoria put on a grin that matched mine.

"I don't like where this going," Dean said cautiously.

"You know," Victoria said as the four of us left my movie theatre on the higher level of my building. "I think I severely under appreciated Earth Aleph superhero movies until I watched it on the big screen, when we were the only ones in the theatre."

"The discount on popcorn helped," Dean added.

"Hm, it was pretty average," Amy said bitterly, limping alongside us.

"You're just saying that because you had to stand up the whole time," I said dryly.

"That's not my fault," Amy answered pointedly, glaring at Victoria. Victoria held her hands up innocently.

"We don't know what got you in that match."

"Vicky, you shot me in the ass with a shotgun."

"You can't prove that," she stated, grabbing a fistful of Dean's popcorn. "I mean, anything could have hit that."

"Vicky I swear to God-"

"I think we should settle this with another round on airsoft," I said with a nod.

"No!" Dean and Amy shouted simultaneously.

"Psh, spoilsports," Victoria muttered.

Dean cleared his throat. "I think you underestimate what it's like getting into a gunfight with the person that design the map and another who can fly over it."

"Well, if you really want to have an advantage," I said slowly. "I could turn the lights off, and Victoria and I can wear the vests for laser tag."

"Why don't we just play laser tag?" Amy suggested.

"Not as fun," Victoria and I said simply. Dean looked back at Amy.

"We're hanging out with a pair of sadists."

"Hey," I began as I twirled my cane in the other hand. "Gotta play by the House rules."

Last edited: May 31, 2018

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Threadmarks 44: An Ironic Charity New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

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May 31, 2018

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#159

"You're stronger than you look."

Amanda Godot was just as described when I sought her out, a very tall, lanky woman that spoke in a vague accent that was hard to place. She had black hair cut short and seemed to have a habit of going around in nothing but exercise shorts and a sports bra. Highlighting the other area where our body types were different, in the most irritating fashion.

I flexed my fingers. "It's a sort of... wiry strength," I responded, even though I knew she wouldn't get the joke. However, the layers of wires under my skin was hardly unnoticeable to me. If after hours of them being in place and hours of me using them to move, it still burning like nothing I've felt before.

But I could handle it.

She nodded. "But strength isn't where you best ability lies. You're thin, tall, fast. Use your strength to jump between opponents, never spending more than a few seconds on one, and they will never catch you."

I nodded. That much we spent some time practising. We spent about two hours just going through basic stretches, running, moves, and strength training. Although, I was cheating a bit when it came to strength.

The watch Amanda wore on her wrist began to beep. She looked at it briefly and turned it off. Looking back up at me, she held out a hand.

"You have much potential. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow."

"Likewise," I replied, shaking her hand. I turned and started towards the entrance of the gym when I spotted Parian and Panacea sitting outside the glass walls of the gym. I raised an eyebrow at them as I walked through the door.

"Spying on me now?" I asked.

"Just watching," Parian said nonchalantly. "You are taking us to that charity dinner in," Parian pulled out a phone and looked at the time. "Five minutes."

"Just got to pull my suit on and I'll be ready," I answered. Currently, I was wearing simply clothing to Amanda, only my exercise shorts and sports bra were made of layers of steel wire that could, if I needed to, expand to cover most of my body.

No point in taking any chances, after all.

"You two wait here, I'll be out in a moment." I turned around and went back into the gym, crossing over to the locker room. It only took a few moments to strip what I had and slip on my normal under armour before putting my suit on. As well, I got rid of the wires underneath my skin. As useful as they had shown they could be, it was painful.

For this occasion, I opted for my original red and gold suit with the top hat. It was a little more friendly and a little more noticable.

I stepped out of the locker room to find the two of the had moved just outside it. I raised another eyebrow but ignored it. I spun my cane around and pointed at the door.

"Let's be off," I said dramatically. Panacea rolled her eyes, but followed me anyway. As we walked, I asked Panacea, "Where is your sister?"

She shrugged. "She couldn't come. Busy week. Honestly, with all the injured the Empire has been putting the hospital, I should really be there myself."

"Why aren't you?" Parian asked curiously.

"If there is someone in dire straits, they'll call me."

I nodded. "It's good to have you here then."

We stepped outside to see a limo parked on the streets. The driver stepped out and opened the door for us, prompting me to shoot a grin at the other two as I slipped inside.

"Show off," Panacea murmured, climbing in behind me.

"If you've got the cash, why a not?' Parian questioned as she slid into her seat.

I smirked "Funny, that's what I said when my dad asked me why I was putting a waterslide in my bedroom." The two looked at me.

"You've got a waterslide in your bedroom?" Panacea asked.

"Soon. It's a work in progress."

"Why?" Parian asked.

"Because contrary to how I may come off, I'm still a teenager with absurd amounts of money. And if I want a water slide in my bedroom, I'll put a damned waterslide in my bedroom."

Parian turned and looked at Panacea. "I swear its like I'm employed by five-year-old."

"Hm," I hummed thoughtfully. "That would explain the airsoft guns. And my growing collection of cool superheroes. But could a five-year-old do this?"

Using just my cane handle, I pushed my top hat off, caught it on the cane, then flicked it towards Panacea. With a very subtle use of my wires, I made the hat land on her head.

Panacea looked up with her eyes like she was trying to see the hat.

"Why are you like this?" She asked blankly, as if she wasn't sure how else to respond. I smirked and leaned forward, resting both hands on my cane.

"Because it's entertaining," I said simply.

I walked up to the three people standing close and drinking my champagne. Or, I guess it was my father's since I'm under twenty-one. Or since I was hosting the charity was it technically mine? It was my money, and I gave it to other people to buy and organize things.

I shook my head. Not important. Still confusing. I would have to look into it later.

"Ah, the woman of the hour," Councilman Greg Harris said, gesturing to me as I walked up. He was an elderly man, having spent most of his career in city politics. I smiled to him and held out a hand.

"I'm flattered, but let's remember this dinner is about helping the drug addicts of Brockton Bay."

"Of course," The Council Woman standing next to Harris said with a wave of her hand. Monica Lewis was also on the elderly side of things, but had only become a Council Woman recently. Beforehand she had been the personal secretary under several mayors of the city. She was a woman who knew her way around politics.

"But," she continued, "All but two of the City Council is here, and all the Wards are in attendance. We would be remiss if we didn't see this as your opportunity to… socialize."

I nodded and looked around. As she said, the Wards were interspersed around the room. Talking with guests and reporters that came. Putting on a good public face.

Armsmaster and Miss Militia were here as well, sticking to the sides of the room and watching me like a hawk. I guess I was correct in my assumption that me being at a bank like this along with a few of my entourage would attract their attention.

I looked back at the three of them, Harris and Lewis and the third one I didn't recognize. I stuck out a hand.

"I don't believe we met," I said. "Taylor Hebert."

"Thomas Calvert," the man said, taking my hand. "I've been following your work."

"Oh? And what do you think?"

"You're doing pretty good so far, but it's clear you're going to have some problems in the future."

"Like?" I frowned and raised an eyebrow. Calvert shrugged.

"Bills RW-13 and RW-14 are going to be up to vote at the end of July, just a month from now."

"I'm aware. The first would require all rogues operating in Brockton Bay to be licensed by the PRT regardless of the service they provide."

"And the second would tax any organization using more than two rogues in business," Calvert finished. "Both I would imagine might make it difficult for you."

"Very true," I said with a sigh. "I can only hope it turns out alright for me."

"I wouldn't worry too much," Lewis said, swirling her glass. "I'm sure you'll pull out ahead."

Calvert looked down at his watched and let out a thoughtful hum. "Well, I should be off. I've got some work to do before the day is out. Have a nice evening."

He reached out his hand and I shook it again. As he moved to leave, attention was being drawn to the centre of the floor by the sound of someone tapping on a glass. Funny, I thought they only did that on tv.

"Greetings everyone," a lady said. Someone my father had hired to manage the event, I didn't know her name. "It has come that time of night that we show the items Taylor Hebert has generously donated to tonight's charity that they will be selling at auction later on in the month. So without further ado, please welcome Parian."

The room was filled with light clapping as Parian walked towards the space the woman had just vacated. She pulled on a clothing rack that had five sparkling dresses on it and a suit. I started looking around for someone else to chat with as Parian began describing them to the people paying attention.

I crossed the room to where Panacea was sitting back in a chair, looking bored.

"So, what do you think?" I asked, sitting down across from her.

"I think I'm just glad having this costume means I don't have to wear one of those dresses," she said dryly. "I bet every single suit and dress in here cost more than two hundred dollars."

"That's nothing compared to their donations," I answered. "I'm thinking I got into the wrong business. I should have made a 'Save the Bay Charity'. All about providing jobs and housing to the people of Brockton Bay."

"Then you would have to be non-profit." Panacea pointed out. I shrugged.

"I could always open a business on the side, have them running parallel." I shook my head. "I guess it doesn't matter, I'm helping just as many people, if not more, this way."

Panacea raised her arms above her head and stretched before moving to stand up. "I'm going to go find some of that food that comes on the incredibly small plates. Want me to bring you back anything?"

"Nah," I said, standing up. "I think I'm going to go chat up some more people. There are a few potential investors here, figure I could talk them out of a few million dollars by the end of the night."

I stood up and twirled my cane around once, starting across the room. I smiled as Parian vacated her spot and Eden took her place, carrying a wagon full of flower pots. It had taken some prompting, but I convinced her to come.

She walked to the centre of the room and raised her hands. Immediately, plant stalks began to snake out of the dirt like vines. Flowers budding and blooming one after another as she did. Slowly, she twisted the vines into floral patterns and made them wreathed with unnatural, yet exquisite coloured flowers.

I frowned as a strange shadow began creeping around people's ankles. Then narrowed my eyes when I noticed the shadows giving off a strange wispy smoke. I looked around and noticed the windows were growing dark. My eyes widened.

I opened my mouth to shout out a warning to everyone, but black smoke flooded into the room and covered my body before I could. I was plunged into some strange oily darkness and for a few seconds, I was confused.

Then I clenched my teeth and spread my power through the building, pulling in wires from across my territory. I hissed as I slipped more wires underneath my skin. Whoever this was, they weren't going to like what was about to happen to them.

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Threadmarks 45: The Arrest to Change the World New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

May 31, 2018

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#160

I felt people floundering about, searching for the exits. People were tripping over themselves, feeling around aimlessly as they tried in vain to get some sense of direction. It none of them found a way out though. Someone had welded the doors shut. That shouldn't have been possible to do that fast

I stood still as more and more wires drew into my skin, moving just under the surface to layer themselves over my muscles. All the while covering my limbs with intense, but familiar pain. I hadn't even reinforced my muscle tissues in my torso yet. Something that would be necessary if these attackers had any Brutes on their team.

A felt two sets of feet moving orderly through the chaos. I singled them out and moved towards them, shoving people out of my way as I did. They shifted and moved away from me in the darkness. I frowned and changed my course to pursue them. They changed again.

How did they know I was coming towards them?

Before I could think on that, four large paws like things began slamming into the floor. A large creature began lighting up my senses as it charged into the bank from a back room, stunning me for a few seconds. I couldn't even tell what I was looking at, only that there was a dog shaped creature at its core that was outside of my power. There wasn't any more time to think about it before it started charging towards me. I jumped out of the way, tripping on someone as I did. The paws went past, barreling through people as they did.

I sent out wires through the room with the intention of testing something. I sent them to block the path of the first pair I had singled out. They had to know what was going on through the darkness somehow. I needed to know.

The first was a single wire, something that would cut them if they walked into it. But they didn't hit it. Their feet kept going as if they had ducked under it. I tried it with the strange dog creature I could feel. It hit the wire and snapped through it like it wants there.

So one of the two in the other pair could tell where my wires were, and the dog things must be able to sense me but not the wires. Which would explain why it was turning around to face me again.

Suddenly, all the darkness in the room vanished like a big gust of wind had come through and blown it to the edges of the room. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust and figure out what was going on in front of me.

Panacea was on the ground, some cape in a white regal costume and mask pressing some sort of staff into her back. Another cape clad in black riding leathers and wearing a motorcycle helmet was standing off to the side, holding a knife against a Council Woman's throat. Standing behind the front desk of the bank, and blonde girl in a lavender costume was pointing a handgun directly at me. Three large dogs were standing over top some cowering people, seemingly under the orders of a broad-shouldered girl not wearing much of a costume at all. There was a final one, sliding into the room with his hand around Vista's throat. His costume was simple silver plating. I was half sure I had seen him around before, but couldn't place the name.

All around us, the other Wards along with Armsmaster and Miss Militia were raising whatever weapons they had. But none of them moved to act even as I was preparing myself.

"Stop it," the one in a lavender ordered. I raised an eyebrow. "You know what I'm talking about."

I glanced at Panacea and pulled my wires back.

"Okay, now listen very carefully," she continued, looking around the room. "I want every hero and Ward in this room to take a step back into Grue's darkness until this is over. Do it and no one gets hurt."

"How do we know that," Armsmaster demanded. The girl frowned and gestured to one of the dogs. The girl in the plaid skirt whistled and the dog backed off. Immediately, the person underneath scrambled toward me and the Wards around me.

"We don't want to hurt anyone if we can avoid it," she said. "Do as we say, and we'll let everyone go."

"Oh fuck no," I heard Clockblocker say. I glance towards him. "You can't just come in here and take Vista hostage and expect-"

"Clockblocker," Miss Militia stated sternly. "Shut. Up."

"I'm very serious," the girl said. "Don't take a step forward or someone might stop you." Her gaze settled on me, as if communicating something.

The one able to tell where my wires were. Either heightened perception or knowledgeable in some other way. Either way, she seemed to want to talk to me. I fused the hero's shoes into the floor. The girl nodded to who I guess was Grue. A moment later, darkness spread through the room and covered the heroes. Then it was just us.

"I'm at a disadvantage, I don't know your names," I started, trying to bring back that dramatic flare I sometimes had, but couldn't quite manage it.

"Tattletale," she said. "That's all you need. Now, open every vault, safe, and safety deposit box in this building."

"No," I stated, narrowing my eyes at her.

"If you don't we'll kill Panacea."

"You having Panacea is the only thing stopping me from ripping you apart right now. You hurt a fucking hair on her head and I start cutting off limbs."

"You would have to expose yourself to do it,"

I paused. My first instinct was to protect myself legally. But this was different. I put that aside and took a step forward. Tattletale's eyes widened.

"If you think I'll put my security over another's life, you've got another thing coming."

She paused, as if considering something.

"How about a trade," I said. "You let everyone else go, and I won't kill you where you stand."

Tattletale stared back at me for what felt like a long time, each second stretching out as I tried my best to gauge her reaction. Finally, she cast a glance to the side at the villain holding on to Vista.

"Hotclaw," Tattletale said. "Push Vista into the darkness then go open the vault yourself. Plan B."

The villain, Hotclaw I guess, nodded and whispered something in Vista's ear before forcing her forward several steps. He shoved her into the smoke and then made his way towards the back. Towards the vault. The near uncostumed girl made a whistle and a gesture, motioning towards one of her dog creatures. The beast stepped away from its hostage and followed Hotclaw out.

"You didn't need me to open the vaults," I observed. Tattletale didn't respond. Frowning, I press forward. "You would have to be incredibly stupid to hit this bank at this moment for money."

I saw her eyes narrow. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" I asked in mock innocence.

"Talking to try and get a reaction out of me so you can learn more. It won't work."

"Either way," I said, brushing past that. "You would have to be stupid to hit this place for money, even if all these capes were around. So why are you here?"

"Our instructions were to make the heroes look bad. Rob a bank while all the Wards were in one place and even some Protectorate."

"And this has nothing to do with me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Somehow I doubt it."

Tattletale glanced around at the hostages. Panacea had turned her head around and was looking at me now with wide eyes. The Council Woman hadn't budged.

"Unless you think we're really here to make you look good, then no, it's not about you."

"If that's the case, let them go and take me as your hostage," I suggested.

"With abilities like yours?" She asked. "Not happening."

"You've got plenty of firepower to stop me." I countered. Tattletale shook her head.

"Not reliably. Not with what you've been putting together underneath your skin."

"Those dogs can't bite me?"

"Not hard enough to beak that wire, maybe to crush a bone. But you've got another way to stop the dogs."

"Fair enough," I said, smiling. She was falling for it. "Can't blind me with Grue's darkness?"

"You can feel us moving through it."

"His power?" I asked, pointing at the one in all white.

"Useless against you. The best option is to continue holding on to these people until we're ready to leave with the cash from the vault."

"I see. Now, since you seem to know all the answers, tell me this. Do you know what is going to happen once you release those hostages?"

"You're going to hurt us, or at least try to," Tattletale said, a little smirk appearing.

"Oh, I don't think I'll have to try very hard," I said lightly, the sound of a not so distant metallic footstep echoing off the ground. Tattletale went bug-eyed.

"How did you do that?" She asked.

"I figured you either had a prediction, perception, or information based Thinker power," I answered nonchalantly, spinning my cane around. "I gambled on it being information and kept asking questions of you. Either giving information and asking for it. Whatever it took for your focus to stay here, and not out there. Shame though, this would have been much cooler without any warning."

I took a step back as The Collector tore through the wall ten feet from where I was standing and ran towards the villains. I wrenched my arm backwards, a series of wires snapping taunt around the hostage's legs and pulling them out of the way as I let The Collector take over.

I released the wires from my body, no need for them now that The Collector was here to be my muscle. I sent it out in all directions, even less visible than usual because of the dark coating of blood on it.

I was a little surprised when I heard the gun fired a split second before the whole room went dark. I felt the bullet pass through thin layers of my wires, catching on them briefly and slowing down. But bullets are fast no matter how slow hitting my wires made them. I didn't realize where it was heading until it was burying itself in my eye.

I fell back on the floor, fighting the urge to scream out in pain even though I was sure no one could hear me in the darkness overtaking the area. The pain radiated out from my eye and around my face, but I couldn't let that stop me.

These pricks ruined my dinner, and it was for charity.

I set The Collector after them with a vengeance, both because I needed to and because it helped distract from the pain in my face. Something I desperately needed.

They wasted no time splitting up, heading out in different directions by riding on top of those massive beasts of theirs. Beasts that seemed to be growing even bigger. The time they gained from shooting me was small, but noticeable. I tried manipulating their structure, but it was too chaotic. When I tried to fuse their paws into the ground they were strong enough to tear them free. I grit my teeth as I had The Collector chase them out into the street, lunging out at them as the pasted through the walls of the bank. But they were too fast. I swore. I needed to hide The Collector suit before they found it. Dealing with those villains will have to wait until-

"Taylor, oh my god." I heard. I opened my… eye. The darkness was fading from the room, letting me see Panacea falling to her knees next to me. She reached out a hand to touch me, but I grabbed her wrist with a gloved hand.

"No," I hissed through the pain, keeping my other hand clenched over my eye. "I'm not dead. Let the doctors handle it."

"Taylor Hebert," the Council Woman said, walking up to where I was on the ground. "I'm thankful for your bravery, but it seems incredibly stupid not to get healed for the bullet you just took for us."

"Its fine," I nearly growled, grabbing my cane. I used it to prop myself up off the floor. I looked around. People were standing, looking at me in awe. In particular, one female journalist who seemed uncertain in approaching me.

"Excuse me, Taylor, but do you mind if we quote you? Not to intrude so soon after a major attack on you like this."

"Quote me on what?" I asked seriously. She held up a little silver device and pressed a play button. It started in the middle of the conversation, but it only took a few seconds to get to the piece she obviously meant. Highlighted by her turning up the volume.

"If you think I'll put my security over another's life, you've got another thing coming."

How did she record that inside the darkness? I shook my head to dismiss the thought as unimportant but only succeeded in causing myself more pain.

"Yes, go ahead," I said with a dismissive wave. "Now, excuse me, I need to go get this metal out of my head."

"Heroic acts aside," a new voice said. I looked around and saw Thomas Calvert walking forward, holding a length of bundled and bloody wire in his hand. "I do think this is proof of Taylor Hebert's involvement with capes." He directed the comment at Armsmaster, who remained silent.

"Seriously?" Panacea asked. "You're going to try and get her now? After she just saved me and the others?"

"Seems in poor taste," the Council Woman said with a sniff. The sentiment was echoed by several other people in the room. They didn't sound happy with the idea. It only got worse when Armsmaster removed his halberd.

"Taylor Hebert, I'm afraid you're going to have to get your medical treatment at our facilities in the PRT building." He actually sounded a little put out, like he didn't want to do this. Smart.

The people began shouting at Armsmaster, yelling at him. I tucked my cane under the elbow of the arm still clamping my hand to my face. I held up my free hand and loudly stated,

"No, no, if this is what Armsmaster wants," I paused, letting the shouts die down. I couldn't resist a grin, no matter how badly it caused the pain to flare across my face. "I'm happy to comply with him to the best of my ability."

I lowered before hands, exposing my bloodied face and screwed up eye to everyone in the room. And audible gasp followed.

"Go on, arrest me," I said, holding out both hands to him.

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Threadmarks 46: Taken Things to Far New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

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Jun 3, 2018

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#175

The worst part was, we had to stand around and wait for secure transport to arrive. Armsmaster tried to make it better on himself by walking me out into the street and getting away from the people inside. But it only drew a crowd outside the bank as well. I refused to let anyone but myself to treat me, for PR reasons as much as a general distrust of what they might do. Miss Militia provided me with some bandages she seemed to keep on her. I wondered if she realized how it must have looked when I started applying my own bandages instead of receiving help.

Panacea kept trying to intervene but was held back under Armsmaster's orders, the Wards stepping in reluctantly to stop her from forcing herself through. On one hand, it was incredibly amusing to see the PRT and Protectorate's public face wither and die, on the other, it stung to see Panacea so upset because I refused to let her heal me.

Why did my chest feel so tight?

"While we're waiting," I began, speaking to Armsmaster standing stoically next to me. "Would you mind telling me what I was arrested for?"

"You submitted yourself to arrest without knowing what it was for?" Armsmaster asked, frowning deeper.

"I was just doing what any citizen would do, and compiling with your request civilly."

Armsmaster paused. "An order was issued to me to take you in for temporary detainment on reasonable suspicion. What I will soon except to become probable cause."

"Reasonable suspicion of what?" I asked.

"Multiple things, from my superiors' point of view. Though I can't say I agree with the points, we can assume The Collector was working under your direction, and Vista's description of your conversation with Tattletale is questionable. Crime scene analysis will reveal more."

"We don't know what we will come up with," Miss Militia stated, walking up to us. "But I've been looking at this. There is a strange amount of blood on this wire, considering no one we know was cut at the scene."

"Curious," I said, my breath catching in my throat. That was strange. I was having trouble breathing, and my chest continued to feel tight. Even starting to hurt. Was that because of the bullet? Was I going into shock or something?

I couldn't let that distract me, I had a limited amount of time here in the public. I needed to make every second count.

"If you come clean now, it will make it easier for you later on." Miss Militia said.

"Are you in the habit of asking questions before reading me my rights?" I asked, unable to keep a shake out of my voice.

"I can do that now, if it suits you," Armsmaster replied. Miss Militia cut off my response.

"No, she just wants the people to see us reading her rights to her. We're already six feet under right now, might as well not make it ten."

"I'm fairly sure it spells something even worse if you don't read me my rights," I answered. I felt myself starting to get dizzy and instinctively reached out for my cane. "Say, I've got a medical condition in my leg. You mind if I got my cane back."

Armsmaster and Miss Militia shared a look.

"You may sit down, here I'll-" Miss Militia's words were cut out when I fell over. The last thing I heard was someone shouting I was trying something. Then everything went black.

I woke up with a massive headache and a tube around my head, blowing air into my nostrils. It took me a second to orient myself, staring up at the ceiling overhead. It wasn't until I spread my power out through the whole building that I recalled the events that got me here. I grinned like a child waking up on Christmas day.

They weren't satisfied with the PRT headquarters, they brought me all the way out to the Protectorate headquarters for extra security.

I attempted to sit up in my bed but a pair of Tinker made handcuffs held me down. I frowned and fumbled around for the switch that would raise the front end of the bed, only to be a little surprised when I found someone else pushing it.

Panacea came into view as my bed was raised. I blinked.

"What happened?" I asked blankly.

"You had a heart attack," she stated sourly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"A… what?" I asked, confused. "How did I have a heart attack?"

"Because you're a fucking idiot!" Panacea threw her hands in the air before leaning on my bed. I stared at her blankly. She took a deep breath and let out an irritable sigh.

"Do you have any idea what you have been doing to your body? Because it was a real fucking nightmare."

"I don't understand," I said. Panacea held up her hand and began ticking fingers off.

"Malnourishment, stress-induced hypertension, and sleep deprivation to start off with. All of which pushed your liver and heart into an incredibly bad spot." Panacea's breathing got haggered as she got angrier.

"All that combined with the drugs you were taking to assist your liver. You started to have clotting issues. When at rest, your blood wasn't clotting on its own. But when your body gets seriously injured, like getting shot in the eye, it releases new and more intense clotting enzymes. This let the blood around your eye to start clotting, but you had both hypertension and sticky arteries I've only seen with smokers. Or people that hang around people who smoke a lot." She shot me a dirty look. "Multiple clots formed up in your limbs, most weren't something we needed to worry about immediately which is why you didn't feel anything at first. But in the time it took to start treating your eye, a massive clot formed in your artery. Blocking blood flow to your heart."

"Causing the heart attack," I said.

"Yeah," she snapped. "But that's not even the worst of it."

"My heart nearly stopped again. How could that not be the worst of it?"

"Because of everything else you did to yourself!" Panacea shouted, ripping off her scarf. Presumably, because it would let her yell louder or something.

"First, fat leaking into your bloodstream because of a broken ankle that never healed exposed bone marrow to your blood. Which would have been fine, if your liver wasn't hanging on for dear life! On top of that, you've been piercing your skin with dirty wires that gave you dozens of minor infections all over your body. Infections your immune system is having a difficult time dealing with because of your malnutrition, among other things. And the fucking icing on the cake was the early stages of heavy metal poisoning from the metal wires you put in your body!

"Underperforming liver, underperforming immune system, Fat Embolism, bacteria in your blood, medication meant to help your liver, heavy metal poisoning, along with everything your body has been releasing to combat all this circulating through your body. Your blood was so toxic I swear a drop would burn through Armsmaster's suit before it dried."

"... I'm sorry." I said, looking away. There was nothing I could do now, but it stung to see Amy this angry over something to do with me. I had kicked the Empire for doing things like that. One of the major points had been to avoid dragging Amy into these things.

"You could have prevented this," Amy said, softening slightly, but still far from relaxed. "Eat something besides that pizza you nibble on before tossing. Stop staying up until three in the morning. Tell the guys that smoke around you to do it somewhere else. See a doctor about your ankle. Not shove wires under your skin. If you had just done one of those things, the results would have been much better."

"I know," I stated simply, nodding while still not looking up to meet her gaze. Amy paused and studied me for a moment, then shook her head with a sigh.

"The blood clots caused all that toxic blood to bottle up like a clogged pipe. It let the dirt settle, the stuff to mix and get potent. Because of the injury to your eye, we couldn't put you on blood thinners even if the one in your artery let us. Surgery dealt with that one, and we used thrombolytic therapy to break up the other clots after sealing your eye injury with other treatments. But once all that toxic blood started circulating again things got worse. Organ failure, across the board."

"Christ," I murmured, looking down at my hands. "I feel fine. I felt fine. I was doing fine."

Amy shook her head. "Nothing mattered until you were shot. Your infections hadn't progressed and your clotting issues stopped complications with your hypertension and sticky vessels. It's practically a miracle your liver and kidneys held out for this long."

"But why do I feel fine now?"

"I stepped in," Amy said, shooting me a disbelieving look. "You could have died before you even woke up."

"Did my Dad give you permission?" I asked, a frown appearing on my face.

"Taylor, your blood was turning black! I wouldn't have given one fucking damn if you were awake telling me I couldn't heal you."

My response died in my throat. I swallowed.

"Thanks for putting up with me."

Amy let out a very long drawn out sigh and rested her elbow on my bed, putting her head in her hands.

"Just… take care of yourself, Taylor. Please." She said.

"I'll do better," I answered. "But you didn't heal all of me." I raised a hand to the right side of my face, touching the black eyepatch over it. I didn't feel anything, the whole area was numb.

"There wasn't enough material in your body to work with," Amy said bitterly. "Gave you three blood transfusions just to get you stable after the blood clots broke up. I did my best but…"

"But?"

"Your body was screwed up beyond anything I had seen. There were some cases I couldn't even tell what your organs were supposed to look like. So in most cases, I had to just make things a best they possibly could. So congratulations, you got a full body tune-up, more or less."

"Thank you. But if it's all the same to you, I think I'll keep my eye this way."

"Why?" She asked, look around at me in bewilderment.

"Because I get to wear a cool eye patch."

Amy stopped, turned and looked at me seriously for several seconds, then let out a half-hearted laugh.

"God, you're unbelievable sometimes."

"It's part of my branding," I responded candidly.

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Threadmarks 47: Being Piggot is Suffering New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

Jun 3, 2018

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#176

Piggot resisted the urge to stop and bang her head against the wall repeatedly as she stormed through the building, flanked by PRT officers on either side.

"Walk me through it one more time," Piggot growled. "You said the head of the Taylor investigation received a letter changing their mission from no one?"

"We lost the order ma'am," the officer next to her responded with a wince. "It was passed on to us. Arrest Hebert on reasonable suspicion if you have to, anything to bring her in."

"So when monitoring Armsmaster's helmet footage and Vista's body camera, you decided that it had become appropriate?" Piggot snapped. "In front of a crowd of people, after she just saved lives as far as we're concerned?"

"I'm sorry ma'am, but between the footage from Armsmaster and Vista, we thought we had reasonable suspicion she-"

"I get it," Piggot stated flatly, cutting him off. "There was a lot of things in that case we had either reasonable suspicion of or even probable cause. That does not change how much of a fucking dumpster fire this is! You authorized the arrest with some, didn't you."

"Y-yes," the officer fumbled. "We called and double checked with-"

"Someone find that person and tell them they're fired. And then find the head of her investigation and fire him too!"

"Director," a different officer tried, moving closer to speak with her. "We still need to know how you want us to go forward. What do you expect us to do with Hebert."

"I need to see a man about just that thing," Piggot said darkly. She rounded the corner with her mob of officers and agents and strode towards Glenn's office. She threw the doors open and stormed inside.

Glenn turned around to see Piggot walking towards him and grimaced.

"Ah, Director," he said weakly. "Just the woman I wanted to see."

"You better have something for me," Piggot warned.

"I'm afraid I do," he responded. "Though you won't like it very much." He held out a piece of paper to her. Piggot took it and looked over it, blanking for a moment.

"What is this?" She asked, voice nearly catching in her throat.

"My resignation. I quit, effective immediately."

"You can't quit!" Piggot said, crumpling the resignation in her hands. "Not now! You've got a contract!"

"I'm much more prepared to deal with the termination of my contract than any man alive is prepared to deal with this," Glenn said, gesturing towards his office windows. "Have you seen the headlines? Taylor Hebert made national new four days ago, when she announced My House. Everyone was looking this way. Now half the city is calling for Armsmaster's blood outside the PRT building right now. The American public is demanding answers. Roads are blocked because of the protest, and God only knows what will happen if the city decides to get riot police to break it up."

Glenn sighed and shook his head.

"You want my advice? Bend over and take the beating your about to get. That's all I can say. Good luck and may God have mercy on your soul." Glenn held up two fingers and made the symbol of the cross over his body before picking up his suitcase and walking out of the room.

Piggot watched him leave with an open jaw.

"Director," someone suddenly said, storming into the room while waving a stack of papers over their head. "Director," the man repeated, out of breath. "I've been trying to find you. You weren't answering your phone."

"What is it?" She asked, irritably. The man swallowed.

"The PRT being sued by Daniel Hebert on behalf of his daughter and their corporation."

"I figured as much. Why didn't you put the-"

"No, er, sorry ma'am," he quickly corrected. "They've issued more than three hundred lawsuits against the PRT with the local and federal courts for… pretty much everything on the books. We've only received the first of them, the rest are still in the process."

Piggot clenched her jaw, fists, and every other part of her body to keep from screaming.

"I want her nailed to the wall," Piggot said forcefully through clenched teeth. "If we're going down, then I'm sure as hell bringing her down with me."

"Ma'am," one officer said tentatively. "Our legal department will be in deadlock for days under this strain."

"Hebert opened the floodgates," the man who delivered the news in the first place said tentatively. "Her father made it public that he is suing, now people across the city are either filing themselves or jumping to the occasion to support hers."

"She could be out of detainment before we get her paperwork through," the officer from before replied bitterly. Piggot ground her teeth together.

"Get the witness testimonies all together, especially Vista's. Get that recording of the conversation the reporter had taken. And get a DNA test on the blood on those wires. We establish probable cause on that and get her removed from the protection of those damn Public Trigger Protection Codes! I want boots on the ground the second that happens!"

"Boots on the ground for what?"

"To search her properties. The Codes were the only thing stopping us from shutting down what is obviously an illegal power construction. Grab whatever Tinker tech you think you'll need to scan it and find the evidence you need. Now move!"

A half of the PRT men around her scattered as Piggot scowled at anything else that moved.

"I'm going to my office to try and fix this fucking mess. Clear your schedule, no one goes home tonight unless the damn building catches on fire. I want everyone working overtime to get this mess under control. If you've got good news, report it immediately. If you've got bad news, then do everything in your power to make sure you're not the one that has to tell me. Am I clear?"

A flurry of responses answered her before every person in that room started scrambling to get to their jobs. Piggot looked around Glenn's former office. Dozens of his underlings were standing completely frozen, unsure what to do.

"Which one of you is in charge when Glenn isn't here?" Piggot asked. A woman standing just over five foot tall started to raise her hand. "You're promoted, now get out there and do your job." Piggot then stormed out of the room.

It was one in the morning. Her hands ached from the all the phone calls. Her back ached from hunching over her computer. And she was slowly losing her ability to taste the coffee as she emptied her fifth pot into a mug. She would need to head home eventually, just to keep her body functioning enough. But there was still plenty of work to be done.

Her phone went off again. She looked at the screen and sighed. Director Costa-Brown.

"Hello, this is Piggot speaking," she answered sullenly.

"You have forty-eight hours to fix this, or I get someone who can." The Director hung up. Piggot dropped her phone on the table and put her head in her hands with a heavy sigh. This was going to be a hell of a night.

The phone rang again. Somewhat bemused, Piggot looked at it again. Armsmaster.

"Tell me something," she said sharply, having picked up the phone again and answering it.

"Taylor's buildings are made out of strange internal structures on such a small level she would either need to be a Tinker or have some sort of power to make them. If she isn't a cape, she is illegally employing one."

"Good. Do what you need to do." Piggot hung up and let out a partially relieved sigh. It wasn't much, but it was something.

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Threadmarks 48: In Their Faces New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

Jun 3, 2018

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#177

Armsmaster came in with nearly a dozen PRT agents by his side. I couldn't help but smile at him as I continued to cut up the sausage patty I had been given. High protein diet ordered by Amy, who was sitting right beside me to make sure I ate it.

"Not having a great day?" I asked, unable to keep the smugness out of my voice.

"No, but I suspect you'll be having a lot worse," Armsmaster replied in a completely monotone voice. "You're officially under arrest under the following charges…" He began rattling off a list of things I could honestly care less about. None of them were going to matter here soon anyway.

I looked at Amy and smiled. "Remember," I said, just above a whisper. "Do exactly as I told you, and this will all blow over."

Amy nodded silently, not looking too pleased with it.

"Panacea," Armsmaster stated seriously, turning his attention away from me. "I know that her doctors say she is safe to be moved, but I would like to ask you."

"She is fine," Amy said with a sigh, standing up. "And since you've decided to commit yourself to this insanity, I'm going to leave." She started walking across the room, heading for the door.

"Wait," Armsmaster said, holding out a hand to stop her. Amy raised an eyebrow. "You've used your power on her, correct?"

"Yes…" Amy said slowly.

"Then is there anything you can tell us about her before you leave?"

"Actually," I said, piping up from my bed. "She healed me without my or my father's consent. Don't worry though, I won't press charges. But none of the information she gained while healing me would be admissible in court."

Armsmaster considered that then nodded, pulling back his arm and letting Amy pass. Amy looked back at me and gave a sad little wave before walking out of the room. I looked back at Armsmaster. I lifted my hands, pulling lightly on the Tinker handcuffs.

"Well, shall we be off?"

"First I would like to ask for you to describe your powers to me. It will make this a lot easier on you if you work with us during the next few weeks."

"I don't have powers," I stated. "You have no evidence for me being a cape, just your own prejudice."

"Have it your way," Armsmaster strode forward, followed by his officers. He unlocked my restraints and practically pulled me from my bed. He held me still while a pair of PRT officers came forward and put a massive metal block around my hands and wrists. Preventing me from moving hardly at all past my elbows. And it was Tinker tech, of course. If only they knew.

"That will device will deliver paralyzers if you attempt to tamper with it in any way," Armsmaster explained as he pushed me forward, leading me out of the secure infirmary and into the hall. "If you step outside pre-authorized areas with it, you'll find yourself unable to move anything from the neck down until someone arrives and secures you. Failing that, there are multiple countermeasures including but not limited to, electric shocks, containment foam, and sonic blast meant to stun you.

"The room you will be staying is will have multiple similar safeguards, along with others I won't mention. The room itself will be outfitted with a large television and…" I tuned out, already aware of what room I was being taken too. I felt them preparing it, after all.

Funny, I was sitting in the most complicated and structured building in the whole city, and was letting myself be treated like a prisoner. Well, I could be patient.

The room I was brought to was more spacious than others. Complete with a shower, a full toilet, and even thin twin sized mattress on the floor. Much better than what I saw with other cells in the place. It was almost like they were trying to avoid a cruel and unusual punishment charge or something.

"Do I get to watch television?" I asked nonchalantly, stepping into the room with a light smile. Armsmaster's frown deepened.

"You're in prison, not house arrest."

"What a shame, I would have like to see the news coming from outside." I looked around the room a little before shooting a side glance at Armsmaster. "Tell me, how large is the crowd? How many people are asking for your head now? Has anyone burned a pair of underwear with your emblem on it?"

"Enough," Armsmaster snapped, stepping out of the room. "Someone will come by to give you one more chance to explain yourself. I suggest you take it."

"Oh, someone doesn't like their reputation being trashed," I said in a mocking tone. Armsmaster closed the door and I was left alone. I sat down on my bed, leaning against the wall and closing my eyes. Hm, so much time, so much structure. They really are idiots.

I felt an hour go by before my next visitor came by. Literally felt it on some wall clocks. I was very tempted to manipulate little things to screw with some people in the building. Adjust the time, loosen screws in chairs, anything of the sort. But with the PRT this high strung, I wasn't willing to give them anything, even something that small, to pin on me.

Instead of coming into the room, my visitor was on the large television in front of me. I smiled as Director Piggot glared at me from the other side.

"Good evening Piggot," I said pleasantly. "Having a good day?"

"I wouldn't act so smug for someone in your situation," Piggot answered, holding up a file. "We've got more than a dozen things we can jail you on here."

"None of which says I'm a cape, now does it?"

"There is evidence for-"

"All you know is that maybe someone is working for me, and maybe they've done something. But you only know that because you've taken control of my buildings."

"And how did you know that?" Piggot asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Deductive reasoning." I shrugged and looked away. "But the funny thing is, I've looked at the laws. The issue is that to get to the conclusion you think you've gotten to, you need to declare my buildings as illegal power constructions. Which makes them unsafe to live in. So let me ask, how many people did you force out of their homes to get that evidence?"

Piggot fell silent for a moment, her eye twitching.

"I know, because I'm the one who housed them. But do you even care? Fifty people? A hundred? Has anyone even told you yet?"

"I am aware of our situation," Piggot said evenly.

"I don't think you are." I leaned forward on my bed. "But if you're so sure, I won't tell you."

"You think your special don't you?" Piggot asked. "You've gotten a lot done, I'll give you that. But this isn't anything new. Attacking our image, attacking our legal systems. All things capes smarter and stronger than you have tried before. The only difference is that you knew how to bring the public to your side. You use the media to protect you."

"Just like how you use the term hero to protect you and your playthings?"

Piggot paused. "The Protectorate is called heroes because they actually help people, not-"

"And I actually provide jobs and housing," I said. "I'm not lying when I tell the media that. But you and the rest of the government insist on taxing me half of everything I have to do it."

"Those taxes you pay go into helping the city. Something I thought you might appreciate."

"Helping the city? Like funding Winslow High? Fixing those potholes in the street? Setting up poor public bus systems? Not fixing up the ferry? Building affordable housing that I purchase and make an actual option? Or maybe, just maybe, it goes into building expensive Protectorate bases with the latest Tinker force fields and elevators."

Piggot scowled but didn't answer me. How could she, it isn't like she knew the whole city budget off the top of her head. But I did, and it wasn't pretty.

"Between the money you take with taxes and the tactics you use against any cape not under your thumb," I began, a smile tugging at my lips. "Then I believe if we're being honest, that makes you the worst gang this city has ever faced."

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Threadmarks 49: Media Attention New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

Jun 3, 2018

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#178

"I'm standing on the fringes of the PRT protest right now, wrapping up its second week. The city has revoked the protester's right to stay here but has so far been unwilling to forcefully remove them with police action. Currently, riot police are keeping the protesters out of as many streets as they can, but the sidewalks remained completely packed for blocks. Many businesses near the PRT building have shut down for the duration of the protest. "

"Do you see any action from the PRT?" The new show host asked from his place in the studio. The reporter paused as it took a few seconds for the words to reach her, then said,

"Not after their last attempt. The once love Protectorate heroes were met with angry shouts and fierce resistance when they attempted to move the protest line ten feet back so personnel could move in and out of the building. The protesters have refused to give any ground and it seems like the PRT has retreated for now."

"Well, thank very much for being there Acost."

"You're welcome, Jordan."

The on-screen box relaying the footage of her and the protest went away, the sound of hundreds of chanting protesters abruptly cutting out. The news anchor straightened up and started speaking to the camera again, "Well, it certainly seems that things on the scene with the PRT are heating up. As you see there the protest is still going strong after more than nearly more than two weeks following the highly controversial arrest of Taylor Hebert. Our reporter on the scene approached a former employ working under the young girl. He had this to say."

A new box on the screen opened up, displaying a rugged looking man holding a protest sign just a few dozen feet away from the rest of the protesters.

"We haven't left because we don't have anywhere else to go," the man said angrily. "That girl was bringing jobs back to The Docks. Now the PRT stormed in and took everything she built. We don't got jobs to get back to, and a bunch of us don't have homes to get back to. This is as much as a protest for ourselves as it is for Taylor."

"But the PRT provided you alternative housing, didn't they?" The reporter asked, holding out the microphone to him. The man shook his head.

"It don't matter. I don't want a home, I want my home. And everybody here feels the same way."

The video clip cut off and went back to the show host.

"That man certainly seemed to catch the feeling of the protest. But I would like to turn this towards my guests James and Natalie." The screen switched to a wide shot of the studio, showing the desk the show host was sitting at wrapped around to where two people were sitting. One woman with short cut hair and the other being a tall skinny man with a thick beard.

"What did you think of what the man said, and more broadly what has been happening in general?"

"I think he has really struck the heart of the issue," James replied. "Taylor Hebert has in a very short time become adored by all of the city as the eccentric and brilliant girl she is. Even when she was on her deathbed after a savage attack by The Empire Eighty-Eight she continued to improve this city and help build up its infrastructure. Then the PRT steps in and takes what seems to be a very hostile takeover of her properties. I'd say the people who've lost their jobs and homes because of this have every right to be upset."

"Just to be clear, the PRT has the legal right to do that," the host said. "Under the law, they are allowed to do what they do, and they have gone out of their way to compensate the victims."

"Then there is something wrong with the law," James replied hostile. The host held up a hand.

"Let me get back to you after I heard from Natalie. Now, Natalie, I've been wanting to ask you what you think of the controversial arrest of Taylor Hebert."

"I think it is pretty clear the PRT have unfairly targeted this fifteen-year-old kid," Natalie replied. "We've known the PRT has been shooting to bring this girl in since her very first time interacting with them. The video of Assault insinuating that she had cape powers was likely a direct cause of the attacks on her person. Ever since the PRT has been borderline stalking the girl to get any information they can. This couldn't be clearer than in the fact that if you look at the reports just starting to come out, Taylor Hebert was meant to be detained for a temporary period of time. And the details of that detainment have yet to be released, and that's before even getting into how they used some loose justification to secure her buildings as illegal power constructions. The whole scenario speaks of corruption and underhanded tactics."

"I find that interesting," the show host said, pointing his pen at her. "Why are we assuming the PRT are the bad guys here?"

"Uh, Jordan," James said with a small laugh. "They arrested a fifteen-year-old girl after she took a bullet trying to save hostages at a charity dinner. It's straight out of an Earth Aleph movie."

"I'm not defending that, it was obviously a terrible, terrible thing to have happened. But then it could have been a mistake in the PRT, some sort of miscommunication?"

"Armsmaster was the one who made the arrest," James shot back. "If a hero is going to make a mistake that puts teenage girls in jail for performing heroic acts, then maybe he shouldn't be a hero."

"If it was a mistake in the PRT you would see backpedaling," Natalie stated. "So far authorities in the PRT has made clear their decision to double down on Taylor Hebert. Not that that fumbling little girl they put in charge of their PR department would tell us that."

"Alright," the host said, clearly getting ready for a subject change. "Let's shift focus to the effects of this protest outside of the immediate area. In just the short few days we've seen the economy of Brockton Bay drop dramatically. Do you-"

"Taylor Hebert was becoming half the economy in Brockton Bay," James interrupted. "Sorry, but everything the girl touched went from worthless to a money-making machine. Her bus systems, her brand new ferry, all of it was letting people make the commutes to jobs across the city. All of which shut down when the PRT started their investigation of her company."

"But the other half of the economy needs to function too," the host countered.

"But that half of the economy was literally only tourism and banks. There is a reason Brockton Bay is known as one of the worse locations in the US. And it is only getting worse of Taylor's arrest."

"Now why do you say that?"

Natalie took the moment to cut it. "Isn't it obvious? The Empire Eighty-Eight moved in on The Docks the same day the PRT took Taylor in. The Teeth have reappeared in Brockton Bay for the first time in years. A new cape, getting called the Brockton Guardian, has been leading a gang full armed thugs around the area, fighting to maintain what little control she can get. The now infamous Undersiders are operating in that same territory, and the PRT can't do anything about it because they are spending so much time and resources to pin something on Taylor. The PRT's actions are costing lives right now."

"And what do you think the PRT should do?"

"They need to let Taylor go. Almost every person in the city is crying out the same words. Let her go. Release Taylor Hebert, bring peace back to Brockton Bay, then legally prosecute her like a normal human being. If they have prosecute her at all!"

"I have to agree with Natalie," James stated with a nod. "Rogues around America have come out in support of Taylor and her efforts, stirring up nationwide support. I wouldn't be surprised that if things continued on this way more protests would occur around the United States."

"Would I be wrong in assuming the two of you think the PRT is in the legal wrong on this?"

"I don't know about legally," Natalie answered. "I think the PRT has the legal right to do what they did, and I think that is the problem. I think out of the general public's fear of capes, out of desperation in the early days for there to be a solution, we've given too much power to the PRT. We're letting them do things we don't let our own police officers do because we've allowed them to become the sole authority on cape matters in America. It's time to pull that power back, to make the heroes subject to the same rules any law-abiding officer would. The Protectorate and PRT have stepped out of line, and this arrest needs to become the driving force behind a change."

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Threadmarks 50: To the Courts New

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Lip-man of a hated god

LocationUnited States

Jun 3, 2018

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#179

Danny Hebert tapped his fingers on the table in silent consideration. Powell and Calle weren't coming, they were far too busy doing everything they could to help his daughter.

As they should, he thought.

The first one to enter the dark conference room was The Brockton Guardian, the newest cape on the streets.

"Emma," Danny said as she came into the room. "Thanks for coming." Emma, The Brockton Guardian, gave a sad smile to him before moving to sit down at the long conference table.

The costume Emma was wearing was interesting, to say the least. It was almost all metal, with black an underlying colour and grey over top of that. The black pieces were smooth, with the grey pieces using lots of small diamond shapes to give the metal a strange texture. She wore armour on her torso that gave the impression of having a large chest while not being shaped so form fitting to seem perverted or scandalous like some other costumes could be. When Emma moved, seams in the armour opened just a little to give her free motion. The armour extended partially across her stomach until it gave way to a length of fabric with small plates of metal attached to the front like scales.

The fabric armour piece gave the impression she was wearing a dress that could have been inspired vaguely by some Chinese or Japanese style. With the front and back to the dress separated by a gap in the fabric on each side, exposing her legs all the way up her thighs. Legs that were also heavily armoured.

Her arms were fully covered, all the way to her fingertips. Connected to her wrists, a wide strip of fabric with the metallic plates reached behind her back, giving her an extra layer of protection from behind while only hindering her movement from the weight of it. Angled slightly across her hips, she wore a metal belt with large pouches. Sticking out from behind her back was a metal pole, similar enough to the ones she started filling out her shop with Danny could make the connection. And finally, a black helmet with a visor and glass lenses. Currently, Emma had the lenses turned on to give a bright blue glow. But he knew from the news reports, whenever they got away from the protest, that she could turn them off to be nearly invisible at night.

She had multiple bullet holes that needed repairing.

"I figured it's the least I could do," Guardian stated. "Taylor paid for the suit after all."

Danny nodded. "How are things going on your end?"

"Just like you said, those ABB goons are listening to everything I say." Her voice turned bitter. Danny frowned.

"I can get you some other guys if you like. Plenty of guys I know worked for the Empire when they were short on cash."

Guardian scowled. "No, they've got the grit I need. I'll deal."

"If you say so, just let me know if you change your mind."

She nodded and fell silent as they waited for the others.

Alson was next, hobbling in on his cane. He wisely decided to not smoke around Danny since Amy told him what happened. Neither had any of the others.

"Alson," Danny stated. "How goes it?"

"Couldn't be better," he replied dryly as he collapsed into a chair with a general air of laziness. "Protest is going strong, everyone is taking the piss out of the PRT, and the mouthpieces I've got around are fueling the flames. This isn't going to be a problem that just fades away."

"Good," Danny said with a nod. He knew as well as Alson and Taylor did how much public opinion was going to matter here. Hell, if it wasn't for public opinion his daughter would probably already be a Ward with a government approved sticker and unable use her power without permission from her superiors. An idea, which not that long ago, wouldn't have seemed that bad. Because back then the Wards seemed like the safe option.

Things change.

Rockson came into the room immediately following his statement, carrying a laptop under her arm. She nodded once to Danny before walking to the end of the table and setting the laptop down. She opened it up, put in a password, and turned it around to face the others. A pale, long-haired man greeted them.

"Marquis," Danny said darkly. "I'm surprised we're able to talk, with you being in the Bird Cage."

"I've made a deal with Teacher," Marquis answered. "Rockson has told me about the situation. I find it interesting, what's going on in the city. I'm curious about where this is going, and of course, any assistance I could be to you is one more thing I have to look forward to in my days in here." Marquis smiled.

"...We'll see," Danny stated. He had more than a few issues with this arrangement, but that was something Taylor would need to iron out when she got out. In the meantime, he needed to do what had to be done.

Five minutes later, Coil entered the room flanked on either side by armed mercenary men.

"Good evening," Coil said, his tone hard to place.

"It would be, any other night," Danny answered. "Should we cut to the chase?"

Coil paused, then nodded. He walked up to the table and pulled out a seat for himself. Marquis gave him a quizzical look and a slight grin, as if he found something amusing.

"Straight to the point," Coil began. "Taylor Hebert will be getting out of prison. The PRT is taking a hit from all sides. The public has turned not just against them, but also their heroes. They've decided to play the waiting game with a crowd of people without any job to get back to. They lost their head of PR, and Director Piggot is currently in the process of turning over the reigns to her deputy Director. That utter lack of a united front, the total disorganization, and the difficulty of changing leadership makes the future clear. Taylor will be back, and we need to make sure the city is ready for her when she is."

"I'm curious," Marquis stated loudly. "What exactly is your stake in this? You've done a fantastic job explaining what we already know, but why are you here and not out taking advantage of the chaos?"

Coil leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together.

"Because Taylor is a force to be reckoned with. In just a very short time, she had created a profitable business spanning all over the city, torn apart and absorbed the ABB, survived what should have been a deadly attack on her life, and strong-armed the Empire into a cease-fire. And that was when she was going under her own momentum. When she returns, she will be much, much greater than that. It stands to reason to be on her good side."

"You don't strike me as the kind of man to roll over to such an idea."

Danny nodded in agreement with Marquis. Coil was suggesting that he knew Taylor could crush him and wanted to avoid that. It wasn't something people admitted lightly, let alone those who would gain more from pretending otherwise. He wasn't an idiot, he knew something was else was at play here for Coil.

"Do you really want to spend a meeting about securing Taylor's territory analyzing my motivations?" Coil asked.

"Yes," Danny answered immediately. "What are you hoping to get out of this?"

Coil paused. "Half of the Empire's territory and the Boardwalk. Even if Taylor could summon the manpower and money to control the city, the Protectorate wouldn't allow it. No matter how much it hurt their image, the idea of any nongovernment entity being in total control of the whole city would be too hard to swallow. Similarly, if it were just me, I would face the same problems. By splitting the city in half, we make it seem we're in conflict with each other. The power balance goes to a similar state to when it was with The Empire and the ABB, and the two of us profit."

"A sound strategy," Marquis offered. "Though showing a lack of spine to face the Protectorate."

"Perhaps that is why you are the one in the Birdcage," Coil replied. Marquis didn't respond, but never stopped smiling at him.

"What is your plan for preparing for Taylor's return?" Danny asked. Coil turned his attention back to him.

"Divide and conquer. I will move my mercenary into the territory the Undersiders have claimed and force them out. The Brockton Guardian will take territory around Taylor's resort. You take your men and police the territory around her apartments. I have already hired Faultline's crew to combat The Teeth, hopefully in a way that makes them more of The Empire's problem than ours. As well, the protest outside the PRT headquarters cannot stop, I will provide money to reimburse some of the people to make sure of just that. I can also provide support to you, Guardian. If you need any assistance in maintaining your gear."

"Generous," Danny said carefully.

"Like I've explained, being on the wrong side of Taylor's return is a foolish choice. I am no fool."

"Understandable," Danny said. "I think I can agree with much of that, but I would like to go over the details."

"Before you do that," Marquis interrupted. "I would like to know your strategy for getting Taylor released. I understand that it is practically a guarantee, but the circumstances of a release matter."

"It's being handled by our legal team, but the most important thing has already happened. Taylor had apparently already made a plan with her attorney should her buildings get seized long before she got arrested."

"Oh?"

Danny nodded. "In the stack of lawsuits filed with the PRT, one of them included us suing them for the unlawful seizure of property with the federal government. The judge dismissed it because the PRT has the legal authority to seize illegal power constructions. Her attorney immediately filed for certiorari before a judgment on the appeal. This is obviously of national public interest, which is why the Supreme Court has granted our petition. We've already filed the brief, we're just waiting on the PRT."

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Stravickan Ovmahn

Jun 3, 2018