by Louis IX
Check first chapter for disclaimer and global warnings. This one's a one-sided phone call.
Shitstorm"I wish to register a complaint."
"…?"
"Yes, this is about a cape. You're the PRT hotline, right? So, about that cape… it's Skids. Skidmark."
"…"
"What do you mean you don't know anything about Skidmark? He's the fucking Merchants' leader! Why do you think I called you, assholes?"
"…!"
"Yes, sorry, that last word got out by its own. Force of habit, you know. With how often the man swears…"
"…?"
"Yes, Skidmark. He swears all the time. You don't want me to tell you what he says."
"…?"
"No, you really don't. Besides, this call isn't about him calling his minions cockgargling motherfucking gaping putrescent assholes or some such. Or to tell you about his power that leaves acceleration fields all over the place. It's about a complaint."
"…?"
"Yeah, right. It's about my name. The cape name he saddled me with, and the one I'm registered under, in your database, by extension. Because, apparently, loose lips are everywhere, and you know about me. In a roundabout way."
"…?"
"Shitstorm. I don't want it. I wanted something meeker. I didn't want to join the Merchants, either, but I live right next to the Bridge, you know, and money's too tight to move."
"…!"
"What do you mean, you don't take calls from villains? I heard Kaiser called not two days ago, and you had him straight to the Director."
"…!"
"Doesn't matter how I heard it, nor if it's really true. Are you going to register my complaint, or not? I don't have all day, you don't have all day either, and Rachel will probably call you afterwards too, depending on how this one goes."
"…?"
"Lindt. Bitch."
"…!"
"I'm not insulting you, it's what she wants to be called, rather than "Hellhound". It goes against her religion to have anything linking her to hell, or something – I don't recall what excuse her teammate had her memorize. But she'll call later. Now is my time, and I want to remove "Shitstorm" from your base."
"…?"
"To replace with what? Ah… I haven't thought that far. Sorry, you know, the dope and all… we aren't the brightest bulbs in the knife drawer… or something. Let's say… Whirlygig? Is that taken?"
"…"
"Alright. Whirlygig it is. Thanks."
"…?"
"No thanks. I don't need people telling me that doing drugs is bad. I know it is, but I can't get off. I fell in it as a kid, because the gang hooks us from a young age. All Brockton Bay gangs do so. But does the almighty PRT intervene? Nooo…"
"…"
"I could leave, but Skidmark… he keeps tabs on "his" capes, you know? And gives free booze, too. By the way, I heard he intends to organize a fight among the unpowered members, to give powers to the winner."
"…?"
"Apparently, yes. He gave me a suitcase to guard, with canisters inside. Something that someone apparently left behind in our territory."
"…?"
"I don't know, right? If it works, it means that some people can gain power by swallowing a vial. But I wouldn't bet on it working perfectly and right away. Besides, such things would be under guard, right?"
"…"
"Exactly! Under what reason would someone leave something like that? Unless they want more and more capes. This being Brockton Bay, known as the cape incubator, I guess it wouldn't change much to add one or six new capes through a half-forgotten case."
"…?"
"Yeah, six. Six containers. Six vials. Six more Merchant capes."
"…"
"I don't think you understand. I can't leave like that. I would have to go to rehab, and find somewhere to live afterwards. I have no money, no house, and no food. I only have the Merchants."
"…?"
*Sigh* "Alright, I'll wait while you pass the call onwards to your superior. What about-"
"…"
"Damn. The waiting music, again. Wait, what?"
"…?"
"You're the superior? Have you heard everything already or should I start at the beginning?"
"…"
"That's nice. Well… it has been mentioned that I could go legit. Perhaps with another name. And that you'd pay for everything, leaving me with some spending money too."
"…"
"How much? Wow. That's… both high and low, in fact. I mean… I see how much we make with drugs, but the gang's members themselves are dirt poor."
"…?"
"Yeah. Shitstorm. That was my previous name. I can generate a point-blank hurricane around me, with a radius of a few feet or so. Your database insists on saying it's "telekinesis in a counter-clockwise rotation, but you can't fault me for having problems with my left arm, can you?"
"…?"
"What power training? We do our shtick, and Skids is happy."
"…"
"Perhaps. I don't know. I would have to test it. But if you're right, it would be… interesting. I mean, if I had better control on my twisters, I wouldn't really care about how squishy I'm otherwise. Right?"
"…"
"Alright, alright, I'll come. But only if you promise not to throw me into jail first thing. If you do so, I won't defect or give you the code to the suitcase – it's self-destructive, you know? I know because it was written on the note taped on the suitcase. With the code, yes."
"…!"
"I know, right? But to return to my needs, if I'm to switch sides, I'll also need a new name, and everything."
"…"
"You rebrand people regularly? And you have a whole department doing that? Wow, these guys are lucky or what? Well, no matter. I guess I can come today."
"…?"
"I'll use Whirlygig for my name. I'll see later if your boys have better ideas."
"…?"
"What? Spy on Skids for you on the side, with my current costume? Will I have hazard pay for that too? And what about the power vials?"
"…"
"Why, colour me intrigued. We'll discuss about that too."
"…"
"Alright. I'll be there. Bye, Miss Piggot."
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
To be continued… after Leviathan's flush