CHAPTER FOUR: Night on the Town
Really, this shopping spree wasn't so bad, once I got used to it. This kind of shopping just wasn't done between Amy and I; we'd write lists, get what we need, get out. Easy peasy, half an hour. But this "window shopping"... If the stories about Armsmaster's OCD were true, he'd have an absolute fit over the inefficiency of it all. How does anybody go shopping without knowing what they want?! Lisa, however, was radiating smugness. A Geiger counter could pick up that kind of radiation, it was so intense.
"Hey, you'd look great in this top. You have such perfect skin! Show off a little!" At this point, I knew she was doing this just to get a reaction out of me. The Valley Girl accent she'd adopted was proof enough of that. And she did get a reaction out of me; the top in question was more of a bikini than a shirt! I couldn't hide my blush from picturing myself in that. "You know this is for your own good, girl. If you're gonna step into the lime-light, you need some confidence!"
"I have confidence! I'm absolutely confident that I will never wear that- that piece of string! Confidence and modesty are not mutually exclusive, y'know," I snarked.
Lisa was dragging me along the boardwalk, hand in hand, although we looked less like a couple or a pair of friends so much as a kidnapping in progress. While I saw an ice cream vendor or a used book store, she'd tug me right along past it and straight into Bimbo Boutique. Thankfully, even she turned up her nose at some of the outfits available. Already, she'd picked out two separate complete ensembles for me and another for herself, while I'd reluctantly chosen an outfit of my own with some assistance. Of course, as the minor Brute between the two of us, I unwillingly volunteered my pack-mule services.
"None of this will even fit me in a month, you know. I'll outgrow it and rip it to shreds!"
"So you're saying we'll get to do this again next month? Perfect!" Give up, Taylor. There is no escape.
The sun was setting to the west, casting long shadows across the wooden decks of the Boardwalk beneath an orange sky. While a few tourists could be spotted here and there, mostly it was just the Enforcers standing around and Lisa making a spectacle of the two of us. "We've spent two hours shopping for clothes! I think we both have enough, now can we please head to Parian's? The Dollhouse isn't open all night."
After a dramatic huff and sigh, Lisa replied, "Fiiiine, I guess we should get to that now. But don't think this is over! Someday, somehow, I'm gonna get you into one of those stores and you're gonna like it." And she was probably already formulating an insidious Thinker plot to do just that, going by her sadistic smirk. But she did relent, and we made our way to the Dollhouse, home to the rogue Parian.
While Dad had really cracked down on any upstart gangs, especially a bunch of druggies that tried to move in a few years back, he'd actually been very protective of rogue capes. They're good for business, good for the city, and it's one less cape for our enemies to throw at us if we can ensure their independence, he'd told me. While many rogues were initially suspicious of his generosity, it became clear over time that the only favors he expected were peace and free shipping. Over time, the area around the Boardwalks and Lord's Market had become a haven for business-minded tinkers and cape performance artists. In fact, we here in Brockton Bay had the country's highest population of nonviolent capes in one city. We probably also had the highest number of violent capes as well, but that's beside the point. Dad made that happen, and Amy kept the tradition.
We came up to the front of the Dollhouse, a pastel pink establishment with white trim that really did look like an old-school dollhouse, where we found Parian in costume, levitating a broom to clean up the front while she leaned against a wall. I bit my lip and refrained from humming a tune at the sight. When she caught sight of the two of us, she perked up and the broom dropped to the floor. "Oh! Uhm, hi there, girls, I'm afraid performances end at 5:00, but if you're here to shop, I'd love to show you around?" She clasped her hands behind her back and quickly assumed a more professional stance. Lisa nudged me forward.
"Actually, we're here to, ah, request a certain outfit I had in mind," I spoke up. Her eyes lit up in understanding behind the admittedly pretty creepy porcelain doll mask.
"Oh! Then you're... of course. Well, that's certainly within the services I offer, yes. Why don't you come inside and we can talk details?" While it wasn't well known to the general public, Parian did supply capes nation-wide with high quality costumes. None of it was as good as, say, a suit of power armor, but her power enabled her to work with just about any light materials, including knife-resistant fabrics and smaller armor plates. It also went without saying that she strictly adhered to the unspoken rules; namely, she kept the identities of any and all clients in absolute confidentiality. Were any individual dumb enough to try to get that information out of her, every gang in the city would come down hard on them, just to protect their own secrets. It was quite a form of insurance, really.
Parian held the door for the two of us, and Lisa's eyes immediately lit up at the sight of so many beautiful dresses, tops, skirts, and so many other hand-made clothes and accessories. Admittedly, a lot of it really appealed to me, but for a fashionista like her, this must be heaven. "I knew you were good, but this is my first time actually seeing it! If mine ever gets damaged, I'm so coming here for a replacement..." I couldn't tell whether or not Parian blushed at the praise, but there was a faint impression of a smile beneath her mask.
"I'll keep an eye out for your request, then! Everything you see here is absolutely unique; I never make the same thing twice. But you're not here for that, are you?"
I nodded in agreement, and took out the drawing I'd made earlier, with rough measurements and materials listed. "I have a general idea of what I want, and I really like it, but a lot of the finer details I'm just not sure about. Heck, I haven't even picked out a color!"
Parian took the paper I'd offered her, and cast an eye over it. "Hmm, well it's definitely a unique design; I doubt any other cape could accuse you of being a knockoff of them. Why don't you tell me a little about what theme you're going for, here?"
"I know it's a mish-mash of a bunch of different styles, and maybe it doesn't really fit together, but that's intentional. I'm a sort of Changer, and so far there's no real theme to my power. Really, I wanted something feminine, but dangerous and unpredictable." Really, I thought I'd struck a pretty nice balance between the two. If I ran into a cape in that outfit in an alley, I'd have no idea what to expect.
"I notice there's a lot of strange details for inhuman anatomy, but it still is sized to human proportions. The choice to armor your upper body but leave your legs almost completely bare... I take it your Changer form doesn't have human feet?" I pulled my foot out of my sandal and wiggled it to get her attention. "Huh, you can use your power on select body parts? No, no details, sorry. Still, if you want my advice, I think I can make something custom that'll fit better and offer better protection than sandals. The greaves are fine, though, I can work with that." Her pencil flew over the paper, changing small details here and there. Really, I was fine with her changing it. That's why we were here, after all. "The hood is a nifty idea, but I feel almost personally offended that it hides your hair! No, this will have to change." I opened my mouth to protest, but a single look with vaguely murderous intent from both girls made it close. Huh, guess some people really would kill for great hair. The hood on paper went from a close-fitting cowl to a widespread, much roomier design that I could part my hair through. "That's that tragedy averted. I have to say, though, there's a lot of loose material here. It's not out of the question for something to get snagged or grabbed, so if you really want to keep it that way, I hope you're a mover with good reflexes." I nodded in confirmation, and she seemed satisfied.
The next half hour went by relatively quickly. Lisa offered a few ideas, which Parian seemed to actually appreciate, while I watched the two work their magic to turn my rough idea into a thing of beauty. All in all, we were mostly done here. "So," Parian began, "Most of this I can actually complete right here in a few hours, but the metal will have to be done by a colleague of mine. He does good work, but it'll take at least two days for him to finish and send it here. I can have the complete outfit here at the store for you to pick up, or have it delivered. What's your preference?"
Oh boy, I could not pass up this opportunity. Lisa must have seen something in my face, because she preemptively snorted in laughter before I replied with a toothy grin, "Women." Parian really didn't expect that, as the pencil snapped in her hand and she let out a small eep. "Also, I'll pick it up here, if that's okay." She hastily nodded, before stammering out that's fine, and quickly stood up.
She practically pushed us out as she said, "Okay-see-you-then-bye!" in rapid-fire nervous staccato, and slammed the door. Lisa and I stood there in bewilderment at the sudden exit.
"Wow, homophobe much?" I asked. Really, in this day and age, just rude. Lisa just facepalmed.
Parian
Oh god oh god oh god! was all she could think. There's a gay cape in the city who ISN'T a Nazi, she's super pretty, and I just slammed the door in her face! Parian removed her mask once she got up into the loft, and became Sabah. She fanned her face with the mask to cover the intense blush. "It's okay, Sabah, she'll be back in a few days and you can apologize!" Oh, she'd apologize alright. Get down on her knees and kiss those feet if she had to. As soon as that image popped into her head, she remembered what those feet actually looked like and reconsidered. I might have a foot fetish, but that's just begging to have my eye poked out. Still, she knew what she was doing tonight.
"One last thing, and then I'll let you go!" Honestly, this was the part I was most looking forward to. Toys! Amy would probably give me a lecture on safety and proper usage if she heard me say so, though. "Yup, weapons. And, like, flashlights I guess, although you could use that as a weapon too. Oh, wait, can you see in the dark?" I nodded; that change came pretty early. I thought I'd woken up late when I noticed it was as bright as daytime. Lisa huffed. "Of course you can. At least you can't fly, or I'd really start feeling useless. Still, other things we need to get you."
The one-stop-shop for any cape tools in Brockton Bay was, of course, The Forge. Run by a local Tinker by the name of Gizmo, The Forge carried all sorts of odds and ends for cape life. Nobody really knew what Gizmo's specialization was, maybe it really was "cape life stuff". He sold weapons, armor, vehicles, and more gadgets than you could shake a stick at. Seriously, your arm would get really tired if you tried. Since I was actually looking forward to this quite a lot, I ended up pulling Lisa this time. Oh, how the tables have turned. "Ooh, do you think I can get a grappling gun? What about an invisibility cloak? Or, or a lightsaber!" Seriously, Gizmo sold some cool stuff. And it was all one-of-a-kind, and hyper-durable.
"I take it you've only read what PHO says about Gizmo?" I didn't see where she was going with this, but I nodded. "Figures. Well, Gizmo's store isn't like most others. You don't buy things from him; he sells things to you." What? What does that even mean? Is he super Russian? "He hand-makes everything in his store, and no two things do the exact same thing. So he's careful about what he sells, and who he sells it to. You'll tell him your powers, in as much or little detail as you like, and a little about yourself, and he'll find what fits you best. And he's damn good at it, or so I've heard. It's my first time there too. Thank your little sister for her big wallet later, 'kay?"
Of course she joined for the corporate spending card. Why else would anybody join a criminal empire? "I'm too pumped to hold that against you, so yeah, sure, let's get you some toys too." Lisa snorted at the mention of toys again. I was excited, dammit!
We came upon a larger brick warehouse, the only real "decoration" being several large chimneys spewing black smoke (apparently, that was eco-friendly Tinkertech) and a hand-painted sign that plainly stated "Gizmo's Forge" above the front entrance. We made our way inside, and it looked like an auto-repair shop. Hydraulic lifts, bright lights, concrete floors, and lots and lots of Tinkertech gadgets.
An impressively deep voice called out from the back, "Customers?!" before its source came running out from the back. And... huh. That's Gizmo. Perhaps three and a half feet tall, a little pudgy, and a very bushy salt-and-pepper beard beneath a shiny bald head and a pair of goggles. Guess he doesn't care if the beard catches fire? "Ah, newbies! What can I getcha?" That deep voice... where does it come from?
"Are you a..." Lisa elbowed me hard before I could finish saying dwarf. Honestly, I couldn't help myself. Tiny bearded blacksmith, do the math.
Apparently Lisa was too late, as Gizmo had already guessed what I was going to say. "No, I'm not a dwarf, or a leprechaun, or a hobbit! I'm a fucking midget, and I have siege cannons that'll leave you in orbit with the fucking Smurf if you forget it!" Sheesh, that voice could get scary. And loud.
"Sorry, Mr. Gizmo. I'm 16 and have horrible impulse control." I offered a weak excuse in desperate hope that he would still sell me toys.
"Ah, 's'fine, girlie. Y'think you're the first to come in here and mouth off? Capes just get younger and younger; old men like me just deal with it. Takes more'n that to get under my skin." Oh thank sweet Scion. He beckoned us further into the shop, his legs a blur to keep ahead of our longer pace. "So, if y'don' know how I work, I sell to you. No requests, no refunds, no complaining. I sell damn good stuff and I know it. You get what you get, and be happy about it." Not the best sales tactic, but when you sell unique, top-of-the-line Tinkertech, you probably have to beat off customers with a stick. Which he does. "So tell me about yourself, anythin' y'think is relevant. Your power, how you fight, your goals, anything. And be honest or I'll probably just sell you a whoopie cushion. A Tinkertech whoopie cushion that replicates smell." Shit, he can do that?! And he'd probably make it nearly indestructible and DragonTooth enabled just because he can, too.
"O-okay, uhm, I go by Vanguard. My body just gets better over time, in random ways. So far I'm a little faster, stronger and tougher than a baseline human, but nothing really unique so far. I've only been in one fight so far, although I've been practicing barehanded with...a partner, and that fight I mostly won by luck, except in the end it was more of a tie... If I had to say right now, I'd say my best bet in a fight is to hit and run. I'm strong and fast enough to make that effective. But I don't want to cause any permanent damage, or anything. My biggest goal right now is to protect somebody important, and I'm not strong enough yet to do that. I picked the name because it's a soldier, but also a pioneer. They're the first in, last out, get shit done type, and that's what I want to be." I tied up my little speech, hoping that was good enough. Lisa snorted at my attempts to keep Amy a secret, I mean how many people around town had a nearly six-foot white-haired velociraptor for a sister? Yup, my little sis is one of a kind!
Lisa cleared her throat before starting her own story. "Mycroft, I'm a Thinker, can pick up clues from a little information and deduce a whole lot more information from it. I use a pistol, but I've never had to actually shoot somebody before. I'm not that strong or intimidating, so I need something to help me do my thing without getting squished. I don't really fight, I'm support if anything. And my only goals are to make money, have fun, and stay free." Huh. She struck me as a much more complex person than that, but if that's all she wanted to say... hopefully it'd be enough for Gizmo to do his thing.
"Alright, chatterboxes, all I really needed was Changer, not an asshole, but that'll do. Gimme a sec." With that he quickly strode off towards the shelves and... were those stilts? He activated hydraulic stilts and where is he keeping all of that and dashed back and forth, grabbing seemingly random things. Some of the things he grabbed, he pondered over before tossing into a corner, some of them he ate, a few he put into a hovering cart that had flown to his side. Finally, he came back down to ground level and wiped some peanut butter from the corner of his moustache. "Here we go," he proudly stated, before depositing the contents of the cart.
"...Uh, Mr. Gizmo... what exactly is this stuff? I-I mean what does any of it do?" He scoffed and mumbled amateurs beneath his breath before separating items from the pile and holding one out for inspection.
"This here is for you, Vanguard. Reconfigurable melee weapon." It was a cylinder, perhaps eight inches long and fairly thin, made of an off-white substance. "Long," he commanded, and it shot out to a full six feet. "Shield," he said next, and the pole retracted before unfurling into a buckler. "Voice activated, only responds to a confirmed owner; I took the liberty of already registerin' you. Good luck breakin' it, 'cause you won't. It's got a few other tricks up its sleeve, but I ain't holdin' your damn hand and you seem smart enough." He retracted the shield before setting the compact version down, and picked up a pair of binoculars. He tossed it to Lisa, who cheerily caught it and instantly went to look through it.
"Specialized for surveillance. Those lookers'll automatically read lips, see through some solid objects, record whatever you like, and they do this!" He beckoned her to hand it back, and she reluctantly did. He twisted one lens clockwise, and the contraption...shrank in on itself, before resolving into a pair of aviator sunglasses. "Stealth mode! Made it to look at ladies in the park." I choked on that. "I'll be sad to see 'em go, but you need 'em more." The sunglasses expanded back into the full binoculars. "O'course, stealth mode can't use all of its features, otherwise I'd've just made the damn sunglasses." He left the sunglasses on the counter, and moved on to the next item. It was... a backpack. It was a backpack. A Tinkertech backpack?
"Yours, Mike. 's bigger on the inside. It'll charge whatever gadgets you put in it, acts as a wireless hotspot, and it'll keep food fresh for days. Oh, and it's got radio. And gyroscopic cupholders." My God, was I jealous. Lisa looked like the cat that caught the canary. It's okay, I got a stick. A reconfigurable stick. "I see your sourpuss look, girlie. Santa's gotcha covered." He picked up the last item on the counter. "I actually made this for a Case 53 buddy o'mine, big ugly tentacly fucker, but the damn Big Rock Deadly Mountain fried him. No calamari jokes, 's disrespectful." It was a broad-faced watch with a woven metal band. "Yeah, it shows time, but put it on!"
I did so, and there was a sharp pain in my wrist for a moment. Did that watch just bite me?! I took another look at the face of the watch, and noticed the lack of buttons around it. "Hello there," a silky Australian woman's voice spoke. My eyebrows shot up and I looked alarmedly at Gizmo. "'S a VI, nothin' to worry about. Knew a fella who did AI, died years back. Worked with another fella in Boston on this, a biotinker, back before that kiddo gave 'em a bad name. You said you didn't really know what your power's doin' to you, this'll tell you. It injected a few nanites into you- again, nothin' to worry about, but they'll keep track o' your innards. Not really useful in a fight, but it's peace o' mind, less worry that your body ain't yours any more." This... This was perfect. Amy was having trouble reading me, but maybe this could get around that, as part of my body? Far be it from me to question Tinkertech; it works because a Tinker said so. "Also the voice is right sexy." I sputtered again.
"J-just how much is this stuff?" I was over the moon right now, but this guy was gonna drive me crazy.
"Twenty-five thou, watch is half off. Nobody else'll ever need it, I wager." That actually seemed like a reasonable price for just the watch, in my mind.
"Done," Lisa and I said at the same time. With that, we picked up our purchases, and Lisa took me home.
After dinner with Amy, we both talked about just how crazy today was. My first fight, jumping right in to cape life, all these decisions. And the people in this town, the kind people. Parian, making a living with needle and thread, entertaining children. Gizmo, I could tell he had a soft heart. He made that watch to give his friend some control in his life. And he could have charged me anything for it, and I'd pay it. I needed that control right now. If it were up to the Protectorate, those rogues would be pressganged into a war they didn't want to fight. Dad stopped that, Amy carried it on, and I'd support her every step of the way. Amy and I made our way to bed content and weary, and I was out like a light.
She and I, together? We got this shit.
