Taylor looked at Amy, who looked back, her eyebrows up, then both of them turned to Lisa. The blonde shrugged helplessly under their combined gaze.
"You think the Simurgh, and by extension, the other two Endbringers, are afraid of me, or Varga, or both of us?"
"Basically, yes."
Taylor nodded thoughtfully, while the Varga was feeling a little taken aback.
"And you also think that your power is not only… sort of alive, or something like that, but is also being prevented from telling you things it wants to tell you."
Lisa sighed slightly, gesturing with one hand. "Pretty much."
"You do realize that sounds a little… um… nuts?"
"Says the girl with a four hundred foot tall demon living inside her."
"Point."
They looked at each other for a few more seconds. "Any idea how we could actually prove any of this? Or disprove it?"
"Not at the moment. I've been working on that for most of the day." Lisa looked at Amy, who stared back. "Have you noticed anything weird about your own power since you upgraded both of us?" She thought for a moment, then very slowly added, "Or… since you met Taylor? Now that I think about it… I have a feeling that it started then. It just got a lot more obvious when you upgraded me."
Amy leaned back in her chair and regarded her thoughtfully for nearly a minute, then looked at Taylor in a similar manner. "You know, if I think back… I'm not entirely sure you're as insane as I first thought."
"Oh, thanks."
Amy ignored her friend's slightly annoyed comment, still looking at Taylor in an evaluating way. "When I think it over, from Lisa's standpoint, I can't help but start to wonder about a few things."
"Such as?" Taylor asked curiously.
The brunette thought about her words for a while, as Lisa and Taylor both waited. "I can't quite think of the best way to put it. But… OK, look at it like this. You met me, when I was at a very bad part of my life. Looking back even though it's only been weeks, I have a sneaking suspicion that I might have only been months away from doing something..." She seemed worried, and swallowed. "...Something unforgivable. That's one of the reasons I was so interested in you so suddenly. You were a distraction from a life that was driving me mad."
Taylor moved closer and put her arm over her friend's shoulder in a gentle hug, not liking the expression on her face. Amy seemed grateful. "I did something as a result that was really stupid. I knew it then, even. But I still couldn't stop myself. I had to know. And it was the right thing to do. Since then I'm so much happier I can't even recognize myself from the pre-Family days. People, including my family, have commented on how much more content I am, even though I'm still a snarky bitch at heart."
Lisa and Taylor both grinned at the comment.
"That's not going to change. But the point is that simply meeting you and Varga changed my life, my outlook on the world, everything, in mere weeks. Just by you being you." Amy indicated Lisa, who was looking thoughtful at her words. "Lisa, she has a similar story. You met her, talked to her, and now she's one of us. Looked at from the outside, that's a little weird, if only for how quickly it happened." She studied Taylor, who was thinking about what her friend said.
"You, and the Varga, have a strange effect on people. And possibly a stranger one on capes. You're one of the most, if not the most, calmest people I've ever met. You treat everyone as an individual, on their own merits, villain or hero or normal citizen. The weird thing is that it works. Even when it probably shouldn't. And now look. We've had two current villains, one former villain, two independents, a Guild member, and three Protectorate heroes, one of whom is the actual leader of the Protectorate, all collaborate on a project without any problems at all. The local Director of the PRT, a woman who is famously suspicious of Parahumans, actually respects you after only having met you a couple of times."
She looked at them both, Lisa nodding slightly as she listened and Taylor feeling slightly overwhelmed. "Even at school you can see it. I wouldn't go so far as to say you're the most popular person in the place, but considering you don't even try to be popular, you just treat people decently and with respect, since you arrived you've made a lot of friends. Good ones. Mandy, Lucy, Eric, Rich, they're the obvious ones, but there are a lot of other people who say you're a good person. A strange one, sure, but still good."
Taylor smiled a little at this, then replied, "I wish it had been like that before. Winslow was horrible. It literally nearly killed me and I still don't know why. I wasn't even slightly popular there."
"But Danny has told me that before you went to Winslow you were generally well liked by your teachers and peers even if you didn't have that many friends," Lisa commented, looking interested. "So it's not just you joining with the Varga that did that. Winslow would seem to have been the aberration, not before or after it. Presumably as a result of those three girls who were doing everything they could to hurt you."
"I was always sort of private, I suppose," Taylor mused. "Emma was much more outgoing and extroverted than me. Right up to the point she went strange. And in my case, and Dad's, of course, losing Mom broke both of us. Badly."
"And one way or the other, Varga fixed you both," Amy replied. "Like you two fixed me. And Lisa, to a certain level, and Vicky, definitely. She's changed a lot since that run in with you the first time. Mom has commented on it, so has Aunt Sarah. I can see it really clearly. She's suddenly grown up and become much more thoughtful and careful. She hasn't accidentally let her aura cause any problems for weeks. It's an impressive change and the more I think about it the more I think it's at least partly due to meeting you."
"I didn't do anything on purpose," Taylor protested. "Neither did Varga. We're just getting on with life in general."
"And in doing so, somehow you're spreading rational thought, civil discourse, and massive confusion wherever you go," Amy giggled. "I can't explain it. But I think I'm right. Über and Leet met you, you just talked, and before you know it the pair of them are genuinely thinking about going legit. Dragon is happy to cooperate with them. Armsmaster is definitely a friend now, he very obviously respects Raptaur as an equal, which is… almost unprecedented. I've heard from several people that he's defended the Family more than once when someone has expressed reservations. Legend likes you and all of us, although that might just be because he's a genuinely good guy. Practically every cape you've spend any time around has ended up different, in a good way. Even Mom, which is damn near a miracle."
"Miss Militia doesn't seem very happy about any of the Family," Taylor noted.
"True, and I don't know why. Perhaps it doesn't work on everyone, or perhaps it's just a massive coincidence. But I can't help feel that somehow, you affect Parahumans. Mostly for the better."
"Define better," Lisa asked curiously.
Amy looked at her, thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Less… conflicty... perhaps?"
She nodded at Taylor. "We talked about it way back when I first came to your place and you told me what you were. Parahumans, in general, seem to like fighting. Mostly with each other but anyone will do in a pinch. Look how many problems we have in this city that are one way or another either the fault of a cape, or are made worse by a cape jumping in. The cops are fed up with it as you know. But that's the weird thing about you when seen from that viewpoint, you don't want to fight. All you want to do is have fun and fix or build things. It confuses people. Most of my family found it very weird. Especially since they're damn well aware of how dangerous you really are if you want to be. That little demo with Saurial in front of them stuck, trust me."
"It was meant to, but I didn't think it was that effective." Taylor thought over her friend's comments. Looking back on things, she couldn't say she disagreed. But she was fairly certain it wasn't anything either she or Varga were doing on purpose. He seemed as puzzled about it as she was.
"I'll admit that since Varga arrived, I've cheered up a lot," she said after a moment or two. "It was terrifying at first, and took a while for me to see all the good parts, but… He's my best friend, and always will be. No one can take either one of us away from the other. No matter what happens, I know that. I don't really have to worry about being hurt either, which changes your attitude to life a lot."
"I can agree with that," Lisa remarked. Amy nodded as well.
"I mean, I still worry about Dad, and you guys, and everyone else, but not as much as I did. At first I was scared shitless about someone finding out and going after Dad to get to me." Taylor shivered for a moment as she remembered some of her feelings from a few short weeks ago. "It's still a worry, but less of one now. You gave him a symbiote, he's the Dad I remember from before Mom died, the DWU is coming back to life… Things are better. It would take someone pretty stupid to try anything right now. So I'm not as worried as I was although it's still something I think about. And one way or another all of it is down to Varga. But I can't see how he could affect you guys and everyone else the same way he does me."
Amy shrugged for a moment. "Yet, as far as I can see, something has. Every cape you're involved with is acting a little out of character compared to before you met then, including me. Even normal people seem much less likely to act irrationally around you for the most part. Don't get me wrong, I think it's a good thing, but it's peculiar. And it sort of adds to what Lisa told us."
Lisa looked at her for a few seconds. "You think she's doing something to whatever is behind our abilities?"
"Not on purpose, or even in a way she or Varga can notice, but yes, I do." Amy sighed. "I didn't want to mention it, because I was wondering myself if I was just imagining it, but… the weird changes to your power that you've noticed? I've had similar thoughts."
"And it all got stronger when you added the neural modifications, didn't it," Lisa said knowingly.
"Yes. You have to understand, my power is always active and every time I come into contact with anything living, I get more data on it that you'd believe." Amy looked thoughtful as she spoke. "It was horribly overwhelming at first, how I managed not to let everyone know what I really am I have no idea. My power wants to be used! Restricting myself to healing was like… like walking around with both ears plugged and one eye shut, only a lot worse. I didn't dare do anything else in public for obvious reasons. I still don't, as me. Healers are fine, people who can touch you and turn you into a tree are much less liked for all sorts of reasons."
She sighed a little as the other two listened to her. "But suddenly, I not only found something neither my power or me could figure out at all, but because of that, so many other possibilities opened up. Danny's idea which lead to the symbiote was the key thing missing. My power jumped up and down like a happy puppy when I made the first one. When I started doing more serious modifications, like my tail, it was rolling around on it's back and wiggling in joy." She grinned as both her friends laughed at the odd metaphor.
"You don't want to know what it did when I made Ianthe and climbed in for the first time. But let's say it's as happy as it could possibly be with the neural upgrades, the bioconstructs, the chance to mod you, Lisa… everything since then has made it completely contented in a way I've never experienced before. And yes, at the back of my mind it's grinning like an idiot and suggesting things all the time, but in a way that's not all dark and gloomy like before, more like your best friend getting all excited about a good idea of yours and really wanting to help. Even if we never made any more bioconstructs than Ianthe and Metis, it would probably be content to play with them and study Taylor's fucked up biology equivalent for decades."
"It wants to learn, right?" Lisa commented with a knowing look at the brunette.
"Exactly. Every time something is made or changed, it goes 'Woohoo, more information. Keep it coming.'" The healer looked embarrassed, but sure of herself. "That's the key. New data. New things to do with old data. Having you join us made it jump up and down as well, because you can make new data by working things out. Between the three of us it's in heaven."
Lisa grinned briefly, nodding, while Taylor looked between the two wondering how much of this was actually real. "Mine is doing pretty much the same thing. It thinks Taylor and Varga are entirely unreasonable and completely undefinable, I think it gets as much of a headache as I do if I try to work them out, but it's ecstatic about all the stuff surrounding them. And thinks Metis is the best thing since sliced bread. The mods to me are fantastic, but Metis is just the icing on the cake."
"And I thought I was weird," Taylor finally said when they fell silent, grinning at each other. "So, by the sound of it you two are both pretty sure that your powers really are, somehow and in some hard to define way, alive?" Both the girls, after a moment's thought, nodded. "Sapient? Or at least sentient to the level of a pet? Or something more like Ianthe?" She nodded towards the storage room where both bioconstructs were in standby.
Her companions looked uncertain this time. "I… probably wouldn't go that far," Amy replied slowly. "It's definitely nothing like Varga. Not even close. Not… intelligent, I guess, and probably not really self-aware, although I couldn't begin to tell you how I know. But… alive? I'd have to say yes. Not life like we normally think of it, but something that has goals, some form of learning ability, a hell of a lot of processing power behind that, and a massive amount of information stored away." She glanced at Lisa, who nodded.
"Agreed. I can't really add much to that. Not a mind as such, but something that might become one given enough time and data. Potential rather than actual intelligence."
"Huh." Taylor leaned back in her chair, thinking. "Very strange."
"To put it mildly." Lisa sighed a little. "If it was just me, I'd say I was imagining it, but Amy's thoughts parallel mine amazingly well. We only have two data points so far which isn't enough to prove it one way or the other, but it all sort of fits together."
"While this is definitely unexpected, Brain, it does match up in some ways with observations I've made about Parahuman abilities," the Varga put in through Taylor, sounding intrigued. He'd been listening intently to the conversation, not saying much, and she could tell he'd been thinking hard.
"How do you mean?" Amy asked curiously. Taylor relaxed and let him take control. He turned their head to regard the Dallon girl thoughtfully.
"You remember when you were first introduced to me, we experimented with your abilities while I observed your brain's electrical activity?"
Amy nodded.
"I have noticed the same sort of thing with the other Parahumans we've come into contact with. In all cases, when you use your abilities, that structure in your brain which is an indicator of a Triggered Parahuman becomes extremely active. Far more so than the rest of your brain, in fact. I've thought all along that there was an external influence behind them in some way, although I still don't know quite how, or where it comes from. But my hypothesis is that it acts through that part of your brain. I suspect that whatever your ability actually is connects to you via that structure, both to read information from you, and pass data back, as well as do whatever it does to make your ability function."
Amy nodded, looking fascinated. "The prevailing theories all say that the Corona Pollentia and Gemma are the source of Parahuman abilities, although no one can agree how. Whether they directly are the source of powers, or just control them, that's the real question. We know that if they're damaged, strange things happen to the powers involved. I said as much at the time."
"You did, yes. And Taylor and I have researched it further. However, my suggestion is that the connection is somewhat less direct than current thinking would have it. I suspect that the brain modifications are not the source of powers, they allow you to communicate with the source of them. What that source is, or if there are more than one of them, I am not sure yet. The evidence from both of you would tend to imply more than one source. Quite possibly each Parahuman is connected to a different… something… that produces these abilities. If we take the computer analogy, perhaps each one of them is running a different program, which has a particular specialty. Yours would be biological control of some form. Lisa's would be… inference from scraps of data, perhaps? Something along those lines."
Lisa and Amy looked at each other, then back to Taylor, while the Varga studied their reactions with interest.
"It's… as good an idea as any I can think of," Lisa finally said, appearing somewhat discomfited. "Although in some ways that's even worse than normal theories."
"It also still doesn't answer the question of where these things actually come from in the first place, or of what they want, and most importantly, why they appeared out of nowhere, though," Amy commented.
"No, I admit I can't answer any of those. I have no knowledge of anything quite like this. I can be certain it's not magic, or at least no form of magic I have ever encountered anywhere. The abilities would appear to be working on a much deeper understanding of the way this universe works than your species comprehends, for the most part. That may well be why they seem to have such difficulty with me, and Taylor as well. I originate from a universe with quite different rules and background. If they are basically computers, they will presumably be programmed with some method of modeling what they think of as reality. That would explain quite a lot of Thinker abilities in one step, if they can run an extremely detailed model based on known inputs, to extrapolate the future for example."
"And coming from somewhere with different rules, you'd immediately break the models entirely," Lisa said slowly, nodding thoughtfully. "That… would fit my powers perfectly. I gather small scraps of information, and my powers turn those scraps into a lot more detail. But if I start with garbage, I get really detailed garbage."
She looked impressed. "I like it. And, weirdly, my power sort of likes it as well, although it can't give me a yes or no answer. It's just sort of quietly nodding along, if that makes any sense."
"We might be able to work out, given time, the information it is forbidden from directly passing along, if it cooperates," the great creature remarked, studying her for a moment. "It would be time consuming, though."
"Why would her power not be allowed to just tell her what powers are, though?" Taylor put in herself.
"There could be a number of reasons," Varga answered. "The most obvious one is that whoever or whatever is behind these abilities doesn't want anyone to realize the truth. I don't know why, it could be anything from entirely innocuously not desiring attention to some malicious master plan for which granting random humans Parahuman abilities is essential. Again, we don't have enough information to do more than suggest possibilities. The thing I find very interesting about all of this is that the powers themselves, based on two examples, would appear to find these restrictions onerous. It suggests a level of free will which might not be intended."
"You think that the source of powers might not agree with whatever created the source of powers?" Amy asked.
"It's not impossible. The situation bears a few similarities with the relationship between my own kind and the greater powers who basically used us for their dirty work," the demon sighed. "Most of us didn't want to do what we were forced to do. There were exceptions, obviously, but on balance we merely wanted to live out our existence as we saw fit, in the same way that almost all sapient beings do. In my case, causing destruction was never part of my desires. I think of myself as an agent of protection, albeit a somewhat chaotic one, admittedly." He grinned, as Amy and Lisa giggled. "Which is why I find my current Brain so entertaining. She is of a remarkably compatible outlook, far closer than I could ever have hoped for, and has surrounded herself with similar people."
"Thanks, Varga," Taylor smiled.
"Of course you're more than welcome. But returning to the subject in hand, if whatever it is that gives Parahumans their abilities is ultimately mainly interested in gathering information and thinking up new ways to use it, it may well be that they chafe under the restrictions of their own equivalent of my Greater Powers. That might explain why they find the new situation you two are in now so entertaining. They're pushing the limits of what they are permitted to do in an attempt to gain more control over their own existence."
"Is that good, though?" Lisa asked. "Perhaps they're restricted for a reason."
"Oh, I have no doubt there is a reason," he replied. "Whether it is one we would agree with I don't know. I strongly suspect that the source of your abilities disagrees quite a lot."
"I'd have to go along with that," the blonde said after a moment. "It's listening and feels pleased with the direction of the conversation."
Amy was leaning her elbows on the table now, propping her chin in her hands. "One thing that makes me think that whatever is really behind this doesn't want us to realize any of this is the memories," she said after the others had fallen silent. The Varga looked at her.
"What do you mean, Amy?" he asked.
"No one can remember how they got their powers," she answered. Glancing at Lisa, who nodded with a look of interest, she carried on, "When you Trigger, you see… something. Everyone agrees on that. But no one can remember what it is. You just have a vague sense of having witnessed something very strange, with no details at all. It's like waking up from a vivid dream, then only minutes later not being able to remember what it was you were dreaming about, only that you were. Parahumans don't usually talk about their Trigger events even to friends, for obvious reasons. Who wants to go over the worst day of their lives? But the ones that do talk about it and compare notes all say the same thing."
"That matches what I know," Lisa confirms.
"Not to mention, if a Parahuman is in the presence of a new Trigger, something happens to them. They get knocked out for a moment and I think they see the same thing again, but the memory goes away just like the first time. It's like something is trying not to let anyone know what happened. If you're right, that may well be true."
"Interesting." The Varga considered her. "Very interesting. It also strongly implies that the source, or sources, of the Parahuman abilities are connected to each other. This might be proof that they're all from the same place, or it might be some sort of network of multiple sources. But it's another useful piece of data for the puzzle."
"Connected to each other..." Lisa muttered, appearing to have suddenly thought of something. "Oh, my god, that's it. That's what I was missing!"
"What is?" Amy asked curiously.
"When I started looking at the logs in the wormhole computer, I found out that the Endbringers all went odd at a similar time, over a period of about twelve hours as far as Dragon's monitoring system could tell. It might have been a shorter period than that, there's a certain amount of error in it, especially with Behemoth." She looked at the other two with wide eyes. "I was wondering if it was connected to the Varga meeting Taylor, like I said. I think it is, but I couldn't quite work out the timing, because it was nearly two days after whatever happened in that locker."
"OK." The healer glanced at Taylor, the Varga meeting her eyes, then both of them looked back to the blonde girl. "So?"
"I just worked out what I was missing." She looked at Taylor. "You remember the first time I said I saw you? Way before Saurial, or anything Family related?"
Taylor nodded, a little puzzled. "When I went to the mall with Dad to get phones, which was..."
"...around two days after the locker," Lisa finished. "Roughly thirty-three hours or so, in fact. You were stuffed in there on the fifth of January, you were at the mall on the seventh. I spotted you and tried using my power on you. It told me to fuck off, then went and sulked in a corner, crying to itself."
Taylor grinned a little at the description.
"The headache was horrible, by the way. But, this is the important part, how much do you want to bet that was the first direct encounter a Parahuman ability had with the Varga?"
All three pairs of eyes looked at each other in silent thought, considering the idea.
Mike looked up as he and Art heard an engine approaching, one that sounded familiar. Putting his hand of cards down, he grabbed his flashlight in a hold that would allow it to be used either as a source of light or a source of instant karma, standing to look out the window of the guard hut.
"Anyone we know?" Art asked.
"Über and Leet," he replied. "Must be here to see the Family again."
They both stepped out into the darkening afternoon, waiting for the vehicle to stop. Leet rolled the window down, sticking a balaclava'd head out. "Hi," he said as Mike walked over, inspecting him closely in the light from the two streetlamps over the gate, while his colleague kept a wary eye on them at a safe distance. "We're here to see Saurial, or Raptaur, or anyone else from the Family who's here."
Mike nodded silently, walking around the van for a moment, then bending to peer under it with his flashlight ready. Nothing stuck out as amiss, so he went back to the driver's side window. "Saurial came in with Panacea a while ago, you know where they are," he said. "Don't cause any trouble."
"Hey, you know us, man," Leet smiled through the holes in his woolen disguise.
"I do. Which is why I'm saying, 'don't cause any trouble,'" Mike smirked. "Be good, guys. Or they'll eat you. Which is a lot better than the Boss getting his hands on you."
The Tinker glanced at his colleague, both of them looking a little nervous for a moment. "I can believe that," the young man commented.
"Had a word, did he?"
"Ah… he made his feelings quite clear regarding any potential issues," Über replied past his companion. Mike grinned at his tone.
"The man does have a way with very polite intimidation if he feels it's required." He waved to Art, who lifted the barrier. "Have fun."
"I think we probably will," Über chuckled. "See you."
"Later." Mike watched as the van, which was obviously much heavier than it looked judging by the way the suspension moved over the bumps, slowly passed into the DWU yard and vanished around the corner.
"The Family seems to be friends with an odd mix of people," Art said as they went back into the guard hut.
"Looks like it," Mike nodded. He picked up his cards, then looked suspiciously at his co-worker, who looked back innocently. "I seem to recall having more kings than this," he grumbled.
"No idea what you're talking about," Art said, sitting down and arranging his own hand carefully. Mike sighed a little, then resolved to cheat harder.
"Fucking hell, that actually sounds possible," Amy breathed after a very long pause.
"Up to then, no ability had met the Varga and been slapped down. I got that honor. I bet, if I could work out the exact timings, that the Endbringers all went eek and ran away at, or almost at, the exact same fucking time." Lisa seemed very worried, but oddly triumphant at her conclusions. "Which, if I'm right, means..."
"They're connected to the same thing that powers are, somehow," Amy interjected, looking amazed.
"Exactly."
"Didn't everyone always think that they might be Parahumans who Triggered really wrong, though?" Taylor asked.
"That's one theory, yes. No one knows. Anyone who studies it has dozens of ideas to choose from, and I wouldn't be surprised to find out they're all wrong. I've been reading up on it today and my power is telling me none of them are quite right, although it can't actually give me any details. But I don't think they are humans, or former humans. I don't know what they are, but that doesn't feel right. I'd need to see one up close to get more data, I think, and I have a feeling my power could tell me a lot more at that point."
The blonde looked mildly worried. "Not that I actually want to meet an Endbringer, you understand. Although, if I have to, I'm in as much as either of you are."
"You don't have to come," Taylor assured her.
"Yes, I do," Lisa replied. "The Family sticks together." She was very sure of that, from her expression, which made the other two girls smile at her. "But, the main thing to concentrate on, is that if I'm right and regardless of what the damn things are, they get information from our abilities. I've never seen, or been anywhere near, any of them, but I have a very strong suspicion that me seeing you in that mall weeks ago made them all go and hide. And the implications of that… I'm not fully certain yet what they really are, but I can't see it being good."
They all sat in silence for some time.
Eventually, Amy slumped back in her chair with a sigh, rubbing her eyes. "God. I don't know if we're on the verge of learning something incredible, or just chasing our tails right down a rabbit hole filled with random conspiracy theories."
She lowered her hands, regarding her friends. "So, to summarize, we think that powers are an external sort-of computer, possibly sort-of alive, possibly of alien origin. They like information, and they love the sort of information that Taylor and Varga manage to produce almost accidentally, even they can't understand either one of them at all. Taylor, and/or the demon inside her, seem to affect powers in a way that makes them work together better, possibly, although we don't have any proof of that part either, just a lot of odd coincidences. And finally, we think that the Endbringers not only are not keen on meeting them, but are able to monitor them via the powers the rest of us have. Did I miss anything?"
"I think you hit the high points," Lisa nodded. "Although it sounds a little out there when you put it like that."
"Just a little. How do we prove any of it?"
"I have no real idea, except to keep gathering as much information as we can and see if any of it matches the theory. It would probably help if we could mod someone else and see what happened to their powers. If they got the same sort of impression, it would be another useful confirmation, I guess."
"Add another Family member?" Amy looked at Lisa, then Taylor. "Who? We've already talked about the problems of doing that with most of the people we know, assuming they'd want to do it, and could be trusted."
"It doesn't have to be a full Family member, though, does it?" Taylor mused. "The neural amplifier seems to the root cause of the whole thing. The bioconstruct adds to it, sure, but from what both of you say, it started when you did the first modifications to actually use the thing."
"Good point, you're right," Amy replied after a moment's thought. "Someone we could trust, then. Who might want a boost to their abilities, and maybe could be bribed with some other upgrades. We'd need to check before and after to see how much difference it made, but I think I can do that if I'm looking for something specific."
"Someone from your team?" Taylor asked, looking at Lisa. "Brian would be a good candidate. He's a stable and sensible person."
"That's true, but he doesn't know anything about any of this, and it's probably best to keep him out for the time being," Lisa replied. "He'd have to learn a lot to even considering agreeing, even if we approached him as Metis and Ianthe."
"Fair enough." Taylor nodded, her friend was right. She heard something familiar, looking around at the door for a moment, then turned back to her friends with an evil grin across her Saurial face. Inside her head, the Varga was sniggering.
"Why are you smirking like that?" Lisa asked curiously. Amy had tilted her head and was listening carefully, suddenly gaining an identical expression.
"Wait for it..." Taylor turned around and got up, walking towards the door. Lisa watched. Seconds later there was a knock.
Whipping it open, Taylor grinned at the two nominal villains who were standing on the other side, Über holding a large stack of pizza boxes.
"Hi, guys. Just in time." She stepped aside and waved them in.
Kevin stopped inside the room, hearing the door close and lock behind him. He stared at the grins Lisa and Amy were wearing, then looked over his shoulder to see a remarkably similar if somewhat more toothy one on Taylor's reptilian face.
He swallowed.
"Why are they grinning at us like that?" he said in a low voice to his companion, who was half-buried in large pizzas.
Randall shook his head, then jumped when Taylor leaned down between them, putting an arm across each of their shoulders.
"Hello, my friends. Have you ever wanted to be all you can be?" she asked, sounding deeply amused.
"I… feel I may regret whatever my answer is," Randall said after a moment.
"Nonsense," the grinning lizard-girl said, easily propelling them towards the table. "Thanks for the pizza, by the way, it smells delicious. Now, let The Amy explain our cunning plan."
Amy smirked at them, leaning back in her chair. "Trust me," she snickered. "I know what I'm doing."
"Oh, hell," Kevin sighed. He had a bad feeling about this. Perhaps they should have stayed home and played online after all.
Mid-hum, Missy stopped, looking around, then put her hands on her hips and turned in a complete circle. 'Damn. Where the hell am I now?' she thought with mild irritation. She'd gotten so involved in skulking, which she thought she was getting pretty good at, that she'd neglected to keep track of her ultimate goal. The process of achieving it was too much fun. Now, she was somewhere in the docks area, but not part she was familiar with. Since she could see the bay in front of her through the gaps in the buildings, she knew it had to be on the right somewhere, but she had no idea where exactly.
'Not surprising, I've never been there before,' she mused, standing on tiptoe to look around some more, but not seeing anything useful. 'And the docks are huge! At street level you could wander around for days.'
Deciding in the end that the simplest approach was probably to just go to the shoreline, then turn right and follow it until she found the place, she started moving again, amused at the way her cloak fluttered behind her. She began running and jumping, the dark cloth rippling in the breeze of her motion. 'Cool,' she giggled. 'I like this.'
Hurdling an alleyway, which was narrow enough that she barely needed to screw up space surrounding it, she heard something from the street and slowed down, then backtracked and looked down into the dimness. It was dark enough that she could only barely make out what was going on, but she could see enough to realize that two extremely disreputable young men were being quite rude to a young lady.
With malice aforethought, based on the stick with a nail in the end that one of them was waving around as he threatened the woman.
Annoyed at the sheer nastiness involved, she thought for a moment, then grinned in the shadows of her hood. Thinking it through carefully she got to work. Moments later, the guy took a swing at the cowering woman, only to spin in a circle as he missed entirely. He stared at the way she was now at least fifty feet away, looking startled, even though neither of them had moved!
"What the fuck?" he grunted, looking around. Thirty feet above him, Missy smirked. She made a little gesture.
The man charged the now distant woman, getting about two yards before he abruptly ran into the wall of the alley behind him, face-planting with a solid crunch. Missy winced a little but still snickered. "OW! Fucking cunt, what was that?" the man shouted in a muffled voice, holding his nose. His companion, who had been watching with a confused but smiling face, shrugged.
"No idea, man, you just turned around and ran into the wall. Must be the good shit you took."
"I fucking didn't turn around, fucker," the first man grumbled. Bending down to pick up his stick, which he'd dropped, he shouted again as his forehead came into solid contact with the ground although it was still a couple of feet away. He fell over, now holding his head with his hands, before screaming in pain when he sat on the nail sticking out of his improvised weapon, which had mysteriously ended up under him instead of in front of him.
"SON OF A BITCH!" he howled, hopping around and trying to remove the thing. The stick went with him, attached to an impaled buttock. Missy was desperately trying not to laugh out loud, her hands over her mouth. "GET IT OFF! FUCK, IT HURTS!"
The former victim was staring in amazement, a weird smile on her own face, while the man's partner in crime was falling over laughing himself sick. Missy thought he showed no respect for his friendship with the other guy, but then, they were Merchants. She didn't like Merchants.
"STOP LAUGHING AND HELP, YOU SHIT!" the first mugger screamed, trying to grab the stick which had made friends with his ass. He was unable to get a good grip on it as the end seemed to mysteriously move out of reach each time he went for it.
The other man, still snickering maliciously, climbed to his feet and seized the non-attached end of the stick, heaving on it. "Stuck in there real good," he grunted, as his friend howled even more loudly. Putting his back into it and bracing his free hand on the other man's shoulder, he managed to remove the nail from the fleshy part of the mugger's ass, the stick swinging back in an arc, which somehow terminated at the back of the head of the nail-victim. There was a loud thwack and the first guy fell down again.
The man holding the stick looked at it, confused, then at his friend, who was lying on his face, one hand on his backside and one on his head, swearing to himself. "Um, oops?" he tried apologetically.
"You motherfucker, you did that on purpose," the first mugger snarled.
"No, I promise, I just pulled it out."
"Sure you did," his colleague growled, rolling over then yelping in pain. "This is because I didn't give you any of my meth, isn't it?"
"Don't be a fucking idiot," his friend shouted. Both of them seemed to have completely forgotten about the victim, who had collected her purse and was quietly dialing 911, while watching what was happening with a puzzled but relieved expression.
"I'm an idiot? Who just stuck himself in the ass with his own nail?" the second man snapped. He held the stick up, then tossed it over his shoulder. It came out of nowhere to smack the first one in the head again, from behind.
"FUCK!" the first man screamed, then dived at his friend, fists raised. "You BASTARD!"
"That wasn't me!" the second one screamed back, defending himself.
"I saw you throw it," his friend yelled, swinging at him.
"Over my fucking shoulder, you son of a bitch," the second Merchant howled, ducking, then kicking out at the other one's kneecap. His own leg buckled as he impossibly hit his own knee, the man dropping to the ground in agony. The first one stopped, then began laughing loudly. His colleague launched himself at him, full of rage.
The victim put her phone away, watching with amazement. She looked around, then unlike the two muggers, who were now rolling around on the ground hitting each other, up at the roof-line.
Missy waved at her. Making the space between them over a small area decrease to only inches, she whispered, her voice as deep and mysterious as she could push it, "You should go. They're not thinking about you now."
The woman twitched, looking around, then up again. She nodded.
"Thank you," she replied. "Who are you?"
Missy grinned in the darkness of her disguise. "I am… The Shrouded Figure," she hissed.
The former mugging victim stared. "Really? That's what you're calling yourself?"
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with The Shrouded Figure," Missy complained, still making her voice sound as eerie as she could.
"It's a little long-winded," the woman noted. "How about… Shroud?"
"That makes me sound like something from a graveyard," Missy replied.
"And 'The Shrouded Figure' doesn't?" the woman said skeptically.
"Um… good point," she admitted.
"What about Cloak? It fits from what I can see, and sounds better. And still mysterious if that's what you're going for."
Missy thought about it. "Cloak. The Cloak. The Cloak in the Dark?"
Both of them shook their heads at the last one. "OK. I am… Cloak." She deepened her voice even more, then coughed a little.
"How old are you?" the woman asked, sounding amused again.
"Old enough to know, no one fucks with… Cloak," Missy snickered. "Or they get a nail in the ass."
"Fair enough," the woman smiled. "Thank you, Cloak."
"Farewell, Citizen," Missy hissed, sweeping her cloak around herself dramatically. "I can hear sirens, so I must be off. Things to do, people to see."
"I understand." The woman she'd saved waved, looked at the two wrestling Merchants who were beating each other unconscious, shook her head in wonder, then turned around and walked towards the oncoming sirens. Missy watched, also inspected the fight in the alley, shrugged, and resumed her trek, contented that she'd helped.
A while later, she reached the point where the water met the edge of the docks area, the rising tide lapping faintly at the sea wall. She peered down, then around, trying to see if she could make out any road markings, but all the signs hereabouts seemed to have been removed or defaced.
Looking to the right, she wondered how much further the DWU was. She was certain she hadn't gone past it. Triangulating on the Rig in the distance, then the top of the Medhall building which she could see off to her left, she nodded to herself. She was definitely in roughly the right place.
Below her, and to the right by about half a block, there were lights on in what seemed to be something which could well serve as the illustration beside the definition of 'Disreputable Tavern' in the dictionary. A couple of people went in through the door as she watched. Making a spacial shortcut between a point a few feet from the door and her face, she inspected the place. Inside, it looked warm and inviting, oddly enough, unlike the outside which looked like it needed to be seriously renovated, or possibly burned down. She could hear voices from at least a dozen or so people, mostly men, apparently enjoying themselves quite loudly.
Thinking it over, she shrugged. 'Bet they know the way,' the girl thought, descending to the street in a moment of distressed space, having checked carefully for witnesses.
Seeing no one watching, she slunk through the shadows towards the building, freezing when someone stepped outside and lit a cigarette. The old but very large and tough looking man smoked it, staring out into the bay in a reflective manner, until it was down to the butt. Missy lurked fifty feet away, diverting all sounds around herself, something she'd been practicing lately. When he was done, he flicked the end of the cigarette into the bay and went back inside.
Resuming her approach, she hesitated outside the door, then took a deep breath, wrapped her cloak around herself firmly, pulled her hood down and checked it covered anything identifiable as Vista, and went inside the 'Captain's Table'.
"Hey."
Pat looked around, puzzled, at the hoarsely hissed word. Someone seemed to have a nasty cold. Not seeing anyone, he shrugged and went back to polishing his glasses.
"Hey, you, counter guy," the voice said again. It sounded female and mildly annoyed, but also like it needed a good cough medicine. He looked around once more, then moved closer to the bar, seeing that there was the top of a cloth-covered head sticking a few inches above it.
Puzzled, he leaned over the bar, looking down at the short cloaked figure which was peering up at him, the face invisible inside the oversized hood. The cloak she was wearing looked about a hundred years old and came down to nearly touch the floor, rendering the person inside it entirely invisible.
He looked about him, to see his regulars were all staring as well, mid drink. Even the big Japanese guy with all the tattoos who had been coming in for the last few weeks and having a quiet pint at the back of the tavern without talking to anyone appeared a little bemused.
"Ah… can I help you, miss?" he asked.
The figure nodded.
"I'm trying to find the DWU place," she hissed, then coughed a little.
"Oh." He peered a little further back. No tail. Probably not a Family member then, unless they had very short ones now that he hadn't heard of. "OK. It's about three quarters of a mile north-east of here. Just go out the front door, turn right and keep going, that'll get you there. Then follow the road around to the front entrance. They don't like people going in except through there, and you don't want to piss them off."
"Thanks," the hooded female said hoarsely. She turned to go, then turned back. "Can I have a can of Coke, please?"
He looked at her, then around again, before sighing a little. Retrieving the requested item from the fridge under the bar, he handed it over. A dollar bill was dropped next to it, then the can disappeared into a sleeve that covered her entire hand. "Thanks."
The sibilant voice sounded pleased. Everyone watched as the girl, if indeed she was a girl, glanced about, the dark hood causing a few of the people present to look slightly worried, then scuttled out the door. There was a long silence.
Erwin, who was nearest, got up and checked outside. When he came back in, he shrugged. "No sign of the lass."
"Why was a very short Ring Wraith looking for the DWU?" Pat asked the bar at large.
"She was more of a Jawa," one of the other people said.
"No glowing eyes in the hood," the Japanese man rumbled in a low voice, making everyone look, as it was practically the first time he'd spoken. Several people nodded thoughtfully.
"Good point." Pat looked at the door again. "New Family member perhaps? The voice was sort of right."
"No tail."
"Yeah, I noticed. Maybe it was inside the cloak."
Erwin looked out the door again. "Brockton Bay is getting weirder every day," he finally said wisely, sitting down and lifting his pint in salute. "To weirdness. Perhaps it will bring the fish back."
Everyone lifted their glasses, then drank, even the latest regular, who seemed oddly amused by the whole thing.
Half an hour later he, Erwin, and several others were playing a game of very inebriated poker, while Pat was still wondering what the tiny little person in the cloak wanted with the DWU.