Chapter 3.3
Wednesday, April 20th 2011
When I had become the Butcher on that night almost three weeks ago, I had never expected that it would directly lead to me almost enjoying school for the first time in two years. Sure, I had needed to visit violence and psychological trauma on my bullies while flaunting my power in front of the Protectorate, but the end result was that Winslow was now the closest I had ever seen it to a 'normal' high school.
As such, my opinion on lunch had been revised — an hour was definitely not long enough.
"You could probably get away with teleporting to that pizza shop near your house and bringing food back for the Teeth," Pyro mused as I watched Chrissie give our latest presentation in Gladly's class.
"The Butcher playing errand girl for a bunch of bratty kids," my namesake complained, and I gave him a shove for his trouble.
"There's a lot of mouths to feed around here, now," Sanguine reminded him, and I thought back to the early morning meet-ups that had become my new normal. More and more kids had been crowding around while the more senior Teeth smoked pot and filled me in on anything they thought was relevant. When I pointed out yesterday that there was probably a more reasonable way to meet everyone, it had been Charlotte of all people that offered to get things organized.
I didn't know what was more surprising — that the girl had stepped up, or that there were apparently enough people coming that we were meeting in a nearby park after school.
Polite clapping drew me back to the present, followed by an affectionate shoulder-squeeze as Chrissie passed by my desk. The Butchers wolf-whistled in my head, which I ignored, though Chrissie snorted in amusement at the blush that her touch prompted. "So, what did you think, Tay?" she asked after sitting down next to me.
"I, uh…"
Fester rolled her eyes. "Smooth."
"You weren't paying attention," she said with mock seriousness… that was undercut by a whisper of actual displeasure. "Something more important on your mind, I hope."
"Thinking about all of our new members," I murmured.
Chrissie's eyes lit up at that, and she nodded with obvious excitement. "Oh, okay. That's fine. Are you going to do the thing?"
My girlfriend had made a very good observation — while the new Teeth we were recruiting here at the school appreciated the protection, they really didn't have any direct connection with Weaver as an entity. Sure, some of them knew me (all of them knew of me), but I didn't want to just be some larger-than-life figure that dispensed bees and judgment. The cube necklaces helped with that, in addition to keeping them safe, but I wanted to do something a bit more personal.
"Yeah," I said, patting the smooth, cell phone-sized lump of brass from my workshop that was weighing down my pants. "I won't have time to do all of them."
"That's fine," Chrissie said, bringing her voice down to a whisper when Gladly shot us an annoyed glance. I simply raised my middle finger and dared him to do literally anything for the first time that year, and unsurprisingly he looked away first. The rest of the class passed in the same vein, and before I knew it, we were walking into the lunch room.
"Well, shit," Alkaline said, looking at the rather large collection of kids hanging out around the Teeth table. "Your little minion has been busy."
"None of them are good in a fight," Marauder grumbled.
Charlotte gave me a little wave as Chrissie and I approached the table, and I was surprised to see that she had taken the spot of honor next to my usual seat. With her recruiting efforts, the quiet girl had enjoyed a much more pleasant reception among the other Teeth; it made things much less awkward.
As I sat down, I spoke carefully to avoid being tongue-tied. "So, it has come to my attention that I don't know half of you half as well as I should like."
"And you like less than half of you half as well as you deserve?" a skinny boy at the end of the table said, almost reflexively. When I shot a glance his way, he held up a hand over his mouth in obvious fear.
The Butchers laughed, and I doubt it was due to the quote. "Just so. Well, as we have seen a rush of recruitment lately…" Chrissie reached over my shoulder and patted Charlotte on hers. "I have something I would like to give you all." With a flourish, I pulled out the block of brass, setting it next to my lunch on the table in front of me.
A quick glance around the lunch room revealed no visible onlookers, so I proceeded to use Chisel's power on the metal. I was reminded how unusual it was for most people to see parahuman powers at work when even the older Teeth kids' eyes locked onto the pair of tiny bees that were rising out of the surface.
"Why not wasps?" Sanguine asked.
Dunno, this is just what came to mind first.
"You should give them knives instead!" Pyro cheered, but Damascian huffed in displeasure.
"They will lose such a gift immediately, and with Taylor's luck, they'll end up in the hands of our enemies."
Once the last details were etched, I lifted them off with careful fingers and offered the pair to Charlotte. "Here, you get the first set. A reward for all of your hard work recruiting people."
"I… uh, wow, thank you," Charlotte said, taking the jewelry from me with an awed expression. She held one of the earrings up and examined it carefully. "This is amazing."
"You're welcome. Fred, you're next."
The boy in question cleared his throat awkwardly. "Um, sure, boss…"
It took me a second — and the Butcher's snickers — to realize that his ears weren't pierced. I rolled my eyes at the byplay and held up my hand. "I can do rings, too."
The rest of the school day passed mostly without incident, and before I knew it, I was following a small crowd of teenagers out of the main doors of Winslow. The group swelled to more than a hundred kids by the time it reached the sidewalk and started trailing down towards a nearby park, drawing baleful gazes from more than a few people on our way out.
"Aw, the poor little skinheads, all they can do is pout," Alkaline sneered.
"Be aware that they may call their superiors," Stratego pointed out.
Noted.
My own attention was on Madison, on the far side of the courtyard from us. She had a pained expression on her face, and looked somewhere between wanting to start a fight and wanting to throw up. Even lacking the other two members of her usual entourage, memories of Sophia's pained squealing on the floor of the bathroom resurfaced all the same. I met Madison's eyes for a moment, then turned and followed my Teeth before she could do something stupid.
I found Chrissie waiting for me by the entrance to the park. "So, boss, what's the plan here? Going to hand out more trinkets?"
"Eventually," I said, grabbing her hand and accompanying the last stragglers towards the pavilion Charlotte had indicated. Miraculously, it was still standing, although there was plenty of graffiti on the wooden beams supporting the roof. "I'm sorry I didn't get you something, too."
Chrissie laughed, then hugged me tight. "You're remaking my costume, and that's way more awesome. Besides, it's nice to see kids showing the flag, you know?"
I did know — it was a rather surprisingly nice feeling to see the little glints of brass among the small army of Teeth-hopefuls we had assembled, and not just because it was fun to use Chisel's power. The strange new peace that had settled on Winslow didn't just benefit me, it helped everyone who just wanted to go to school without fear of the Empire or ABB harassing them in the halls.
I just had to hope that I could bring this sort of stability to everyone in the Bay.
The crowd went eerily silent as Chrissie and I approached the edge, only to part like the red (and gray) sea to let me into the pavilion. I was a bit surprised to see that there wasn't much in the way of organization in the crowd, though I did find Charlotte sitting on a table near the middle. I hopped up next to her, and from my perch several feet above even the tallest of the boys, my voice carried without having to shout.
"Hello everyone, and thank you for coming." My predecessors laughed in the back of my mind, several of them doing insulting impressions, so I shoved the whole lot away before they could ruin this. "It has come to my attention that we're kind of popular now —"
"Hell yeah we are!" Chrissie cheered, and the crowd mimicked her enthusiasm.
"I told you so," Chisel murmured, and the others grumbled.
"— so I wanted to take the opportunity to get to know some of you better. I'm sure you're aware that we have a reputation…" It was eerie how similar the Butchers' laughs were to those of Chrissie and a few others. "But going forward, the Teeth are going to protect the people that live in our territory."
"Where is that?" a voice called. "Because there's Empire assholes moving onto my block, and no one seems to care!"
I tried to visualize the big map table back in the lair, but Stratego's power had weakened enough on transfer that my hazy memory wasn't enough to make it work. In the meantime, several more voices called out with similar issues, which turned into a wave of muttering and displeasure in the crowd.
"Show of hands," I said, silencing everyone instantly. "Who here has trouble with the Empire, especially recently?" An alarming number of hands went up, and I glanced down to Charlotte. Her own face was stony and determined, almost daring me to walk away from the problem that I had ultimately created.
I wish I had brought something to write with.
"Maybe have your bugs —" Fester tried, only to get cut off.
"Fuck that," Quarrel said, surprising all of us. "You brought on that Thinker bitch, and she's probably loafing around at the lair. Tell her to bring the map."
"Since when are you useful, Quarrel?" Ironsides grumbled. The two of them descended into insults that I pushed out of my mind. However, I did follow her advice, calling Lisa and relaying the request.
In the meantime, I had a crowd of angry kids to organize. "Chrissie, Charlotte — get out there and figure out if anyone has anything really pressing. Lisa is bringing the map, but I want to get a sense of what things are like out in our territory."
The answer was 'not good.'
Talking to the kids was difficult at first, probably because of the whole Butcher thing, and that most of them would never have worn gang colors to school under more normal circumstances. But once they started talking, I was suddenly subjected to a torrent of complaints and issues from all around the poorer areas of the city. They were all too happy to tell me about Empire gang tags, drug pushers, and thugs that had started showing up around their communities, including several close to my own house.
The Butchers were oddly useful in this time, keeping track of locations and offering comments about the Empire's motivations. I suspected that they found the challenge of actually holding the Bay to be something worth thinking about, even if they wouldn't admit it, and most of them had spent enough time as regular criminals to have useful insights.
Luckily, Lisa arrived in record time. As soon as the SUV entered my range, I moved back to the middle of the pavilion and cleared an area around the table. "What's going on, boss?" Chrissie asked, darting through the crowd towards me as soon as I started directing people. The tense wariness in her face made it clear she was expecting trouble.
However, she relaxed immediately when the SUV pulled into the parking lot and Lisa hopped out, carrying the rolled-up paper map she took notes on, before using those to update our model city version. She wasn't obviously in our colors, but I noticed her blouse said 'Bee Mine', with a little graphic of a bee flying around red flowers. In short order, we had everything organized — me with the pencil, the other three girls collecting information and telling me what went where.
"How old was the Empire graffiti?" I asked, not looking up.
Behind me, the boy made a confused noise. "Uh, a few weeks, maybe? Before you, um…"
"Killed Lung, so he must not have — right, the Teeth had that crazy weekend when Lung was gone for two days." Lisa reached over and penciled in a note, flashing me a cheeky smile when I batted away her hand.
"That was probably the only smart thing Quarrel did," Chisel pointed out.
Stratego snorted. "He was obviously seeking something outside of the city."
We have slightly more pressing concerns! Not all of my predecessors cared, but they at least kept the discussion (including Quarrel's bitching) mostly to themselves. In the relative silence, I cast my gaze back over the map, pushing on Stratego's power to glean what information I could from the mess of pencil lines and small rocks that we had colored with markers.
It was exceedingly clear that the Empire's movements were not random. However, they weren't quite moving like an army, so the rather depressing picture being painted by the kids at Winslow of the territorial lines was only partially helpful. Between Lisa and I, we had silently marked several more obvious safehouses and distribution points based on the information, but the grander strategy still eluded me.
"I don't get it," I muttered, ignoring the way that my comment made nearby kids jump. "Did we fill in for Coil's stuff yet?"
"Not… yet," Lisa said slowly, pointing her pencil near downtown Brockton. "I left it off due to your thoughts on, shall we say, sensitive information."
Now that I was looking at it, the gap in my knowledge was taunting me. It was an unpleasant fact that the Empire conglomerated in the more affluent parts of the city, but Coil had largely pushed them out of downtown proper and the effects were felt all over the rest of the city. The Empire's rapid expansion into ABB territory that we hadn't claimed was not as uniform as it could have been, and focused around…
"Show me," I told Lisa, gesturing to the map. "This is bad, but not nearly as bad as it could be, and the Empire clearly has objectives in mind. I see now that their grip is pretty tenuous on a lot of their recent expansion, but not all of it, and I want to know why."
When she didn't immediately comply, I looked up to find her giving me a concerned look. "Are you sure?" At my sharp nod, she reached over and drew a whole series of lines.
"Ah, enlightenment," Stratego breathed as the map suddenly made much more sense. "They're securing obvious routes in and out of downtown, moving supplies and… oh."
Like an optical illusion that suddenly snaps into focus, I saw it.
I wish that I had not.
"For fuck's sake!"
"You have to be shitting me," I breathed, landing a single fly on a particular building and looking up to Lisa for confirmation.
"Yeeeeep," she replied, wincing slightly.
Why were the Empire's logistics centered on Medhall?
"Why do you all care so much?" Marauder complained, again.
"Apart from the fact that one of the biggest employers in town is apparently a front for the Empire?" I murmured, not caring that I was talking out loud. Chrissie was cuddled onto my side as much as the seatbelts in the back of the SUV allowed, and her free hand went from rubbing my leg to poking me in the lips. I nipped at her finger distractedly, and she laughed while cuddling me tighter.
"It's not quite as bad as you are making it out to be," Alkaline mused. "I mean, sure, you could probably use this to figure out the Empire's identities —"
"Which I'm not going to do."
Lisa, apparently, could follow the conversation. "Taylor, is your only objection that you don't trust yourself? That's admirable and all, but I don't think you give yourself enough credit. You managed to not kill the girls that caused your trigger event, so I have a hard time believing that you'll suddenly lose your cool on some Nazis."
"Please lose your cool on some Nazis!" Pyro yelled, to the cheers of the others.
I shook my head and gave everyone a light shove. "No, it's more that I don't want to make it look like I'm going after their civilian identities. The Rules are important to me… because they protect my dad."
Lisa blinked a few times. "Oh, then you're fine."
"Really?"
Chisel let out a mental snort. "As Lisa said, your adherence to the Rules is…"
"Annoying?" Knockout grumbled.
"Let's go with 'principled,' which is not a word I would ever have associated with the Butcher," Chisel finished.
"Look who's talking, Miss 'I murdered several Teeth for —'" Marauder tried, only to get cut off by Fester exploding at him.
"For SEX CRIMES, you piece of shit! Don't fucking start with that again!" The resulting argument got most of them pushed into the back of my brain, which they hardly seemed to notice.
Damascian, on the other hand, rolled her metaphorical eyes. "If you were to ask my opinion, I would remind you that just because Medhall is situated at the hub of the Empire's logistics network, you need not target it — or its employees — directly to cause a great deal of disruption."
I mulled over the Tinker's words for a long moment, idly scratching at Chrissie's scalp while ignoring the shouting match in my head. Given that my predecessors had been killing Empire assholes since Allfather's time, I had no doubts that Kaiser would use my dad as leverage as soon as he knew my identity. He might have tried something even had I been a more traditional Butcher, if only out of spite and revenge.
"Okay," I said aloud, mostly for Lisa's benefit. "We don't have to hit Medhall directly, but knowing that it's…"
"Important?" Lisa suggested.
"Yeah, that. We can use that information to plan operations and strikes that don't actually touch the company itself."
Lisa flashed me a smile. "Right you are, boss."
"Why do you care so much?" Chrissie complained from next to me.
I frowned down at her. "What do you think would happen if the Empire came after your parents?"
"They'd join," Chrissie spat with surprising venom. She met my angry glare for a long moment before grimacing and looking away. "But… your dad, yeah. I get you."
We rode the rest of the way in silence. Out loud, at least — Chisel and Stratego had disengaged from the argument still raging between the others and were pushing thoughts about how to use this information to our advantage. I expected the Thinker to help, but it had been Chisel that had killed Stratego and used his own power to unravel the tangle of plans and plots that had characterized his time as Butcher. She had practical experience dismantling supply lines, even if they were our own.
I chose not to comment when our chauffeur took the SUV past HQ and towards the Boardwalk. Lisa was obviously responsible for the surprise change in plans, so I tried to hide my irritation at our trip being hijacked.
"Just need to make a quick stop first," Lisa said with an exasperated expression. "If you're so sick of us and being outside, you can just have the driver take you back home after."
Chrissie made a displeased noise at that, which instantly tempered some of my annoyance. "Oh come on, Tay — you've spent too much time down in your workshop recently. You should hang out with us instead!"
"What, is she still upset about the comment about her parents?" Pyro groused, noting the undercurrent of… something vaguely anger-flavored in Chrissie's tone.
Knockout snorted. "Don't be a fuckwad, Chrissie is a badass!"
At least you got her name right, I thought. And didn't her parents cause her trigger event?
That shut up the other complaining in my head, and in the silence I realized that Chrissie was almost certainly being genuine. Moreover, based on the confused expression on Lisa's face, this wasn't one of Chrissie's normal complaints. It didn't take long after that to make up my mind, and I pulled the redhead in question in for a hug. "Yeah, you're right. I could use some fresh air." Chrissie brightened at my declaration, but there was noticeably less exuberance than usual.
I was still processing my girlfriend's reaction when the SUV pulled up to the sidewalk two blocks from the watery edge of the Boardwalk. We had barely freed ourselves from the vehicle before Chrissie darted over and grabbed my hand, almost hard enough that I could feel it. Lisa joined us on Chrissie's other side, giving both of us an exasperated smile. "Ok lovebugs, I honestly thought that Taylor would teleport away if we got her this far, so I only have one thing that we need to do."
"See, Taylor, even your minions know that you need to go out and have fun," Sabertooth said.
"Eh, she's not that bad anymore," Alkaline retorted. "Way better than when we started, at least. Bugger that hero bullshit."
"Imagine if we had joined the Wards," Ironsides said, but I stopped paying attention to his complaints. Instead, I was thinking about the fact that Alkaline was right.
What did it say about my life that hanging out with supervillains was the most fun I had experienced in years? That wasn't normal by any stretch of the imagination, and it certainly wasn't a state I thought I would have found myself in even just last month. I had always wanted to be a hero, after all, but I hadn't expected the saying 'don't meet your heroes' to be quite so literal…
I giggled to myself at an absurd thought (not that Chrissie or Lisa cared): someone trying to tell fourteen year old Taylor that she would end up as one of the most feared supervillains in the country right as she set out to go see her best friend after returning from camp. I felt like I had aged five extra years in the interim, but more than that I wasn't sure how I could possibly explain the accidental blood-soaked path that I had been forced down to arrive here.
Then Chrissie squeezed my hand, and I was reminded that for all of the horror, I had people that cared about me for the first time in years… Butcher or no.
"So," I said, putting the rest out of my mind, "where's the quick stop?"
We rounded the last bend, and Lisa pointed down the Boardwalk to a collection of huge, moving stuffed animals. My bugs had reported the presence of one of the Bay's few rogues, and I was horrified for a moment that we were about to go make the otherwise harmless Parian a deal she couldn't refuse.
"Don't be an idiot," Quarrel snapped. "Your minions know how ornery you are about your precious Rules."
"It's far more likely that Lisa has a benign proposition," Damascian said.
"Relax, boss," Lisa said, directing me and Chrissie into a nearby coffee shop. "We're not going to hurt the girl. I just want to talk about some business with her. Grab a drink, and then we'll go hit up the show."
I was mildly surprised when Chrissie ordered the same tea as me, and once our orders came out I had to specifically remind her that my pain deadening meant that I didn't need to wait for my drink to cool. Chrissie just laughed at that, leading me back out to the Boardwalk (without Lisa) and finding an open spot on a bench. Lisa rejoined us not long after with her own coffee, and we settled in to watch the puppet show.
Parian's puppet shows were one of the least harmful displays of power that the Butchers had seen, and even I could admit that the big, lumbering stuffed animals were cute. The kids in the audience squealed in excitement as the constructs danced and played on the 'stage;' I was much more impressed that Parian had managed to dress everything up well enough that I could tell she was acting out part of A Midsummer Night's Dream.
The Butchers, of course, held no such interest (apart from Fester), but it took a few perfunctory smacks to get them to leave me alone while I watched. Not that the lack of internal annoyances really helped — powers were much less enthralling to me now, and so my mind drifted back to the kids whose safety from the Empire was now my responsibility.
How far was I willing to go for them? Their parents, their communities?
The average Empire goon was probably not quite as bad as Coil's mercenaries, so did that mean I should feel remorse for fighting them? Killing them?
Where was my line in the sand?
"What would you do for a Klondike bar!?"
I flinched at the sudden interjection by several of the other Butchers yelling together, and they burst into laughter as I reflexively double-checked all of my bugs for anything alarming. My twitch had not gone unnoticed by Chrissie, who grabbed my arm and used it to pull herself closer, nor by Lisa, who gave me an amused raised eyebrow.
"You're supposed to be relaxing," Chisel reminded me dryly.
And you're supposed to be thinking about ways to get our territory back.
Probably the most successful of my predecessors shrugged, and I was treated to a memory that demonstrated why you didn't barge in on the Butcher and their fuckbuddies. "You have to take advantage of every time you can relax, because you never know when your enemies will come for you."
"Or your subordinates!" Sanguine added cheerfully.
"Or the PRT," Ironsides grumbled, offering his own memory of the PRT ruining one of his poker games.
"More importantly, if you're not careful, Chrissie is going to stab our shiny new Thinker," Alkaline said. "You might want to fix that."
While I processed that rather unpleasant thought, Parian wrapped up her show, all of the puppets bowing and clustering around the cape herself. Several people came up to ask for autographs, which meant that we were forced to wait just a bit longer to meet the puppeteering cape. Mindful of Alkaline's comment, I tilted my head over and murmured, "Hey, do me a favor and be nice to Lisa. I know she's not exactly Teeth material yet, but don't hurt her, okay?"
Chrissie blinked in confusion, then barked out a laugh that was at odds with the annoyance in her eyes. "Damn it, Taylor… it's hard to stay mad at you when you do this kind of shit."
"What kind of shit?" I murmured back, keeping an eye (and several thousand bugs) on our surroundings. "I know the Teeth usually —"
"It's not the Teeth," Chrissie snapped, and I reflexively tried to pull away despite the snickering coming from the chorus. The motion was stopped by my girlfriend yanking on my hand, pulling it closer to her side and gripping it like her life depended on having me next to her. "I mean, it is the Teeth, and your… friends," she said, gesturing vaguely at my head. "I just…"
"She's jealous, you dumbfuck!" Quarrel bellowed.
It took me a moment to realize that she was right.
"Wait… you're jealous over… me?" I asked, ignoring the cackling and jeers in my head.
Chrissie released my hand in a huff, shooting me a profoundly annoyed look and stalking over towards the water. When I went to follow, Lisa stuck out her arm and caught me before I had gone two steps. "Hold up there, boss. You might want to let her cool off for a minute or two, because believe it or not 'why would anyone want me' is not a valid response to your girlfriend expressing her concern that other girls want you. Or guys, I suppose."
"Huh?"
"That goes doubly so when you have to be told about your girlfriends' concerns from you-know-who," Lisa continued, having obviously figured out the source of my revelation.
"Fucking Thinkers," Knockout grumbled, to the general agreement of the chorus.
The crowd started to thin as I mulled over Lisa's words, and before I could really muster a response, she was leading me towards our unwary target. With her giant puppets next to her, Parian seemed even more diminutive than usual, and I had to force down the instinct to loom over her as an intimidation tactic.
The Butchers, on the other hand, were busy eying up the puppet cape. Stratego's power even kicked in, letting me know that Parian was positioning her puppets in such a way as to cover her escape if she had to run.
"She's a flighty one," Stratego said.
Fester snorted. "A female rogue in the Bay? How else do you think she survived!"
"Hey there," Lisa opened, giving the rogue a wave. "Don't worry, we're not here for autographs. Instead, we have a business proposition that I think you will want to hear." When Parian visibly stiffened, Lisa shook her head. "Totally voluntary, I assure you. We'll give you cash and materials, you give us stuff. Quite a lot of cash, to be honest."
To my surprise — and Parian's — Lisa pulled a rubber-banded roll of bills out of her pocket and tossed it to Parian. I noted that the wad was made of fifties, and probably constituted more money than Dad made in a week. Parian caught the cash, obviously trying not to start thumbing through the money right in front of us. "Um, what?"
"For an hour of your time," Lisa replied. "How about we sit down over there?"
In what I was sure was a complete coincidence, Lisa led us towards a waterfront table where Chrissie was already sitting. I sat down next to her, expecting a hug, only for Chrissie to lean forward and put her chin into her hands. "So, this is her?" she asked, not glancing at me.
"Yep," Lisa said, sitting down across from me. Parian uneasily took the last seat, eying Chrissie with some trepidation while arranging her puppets behind her. "This is the Bay's infamous rogue tailor. We were hoping that you would be willing to take on a series of lucrative commissions."
Parian folded her arms and inclined her head, the 'Victorian doll' aesthetic making her seem like a lady surveying a particularly distasteful suitor. "You'll forgive me for being a bit suspicious."
"Of course," Lisa said amicably. "But consider the following." The blonde Thinker reached into her pocket and produced a square of very familiar dark gray material. Damascian complained about the theft, but I pushed her away to focus on whatever Lisa thought she was doing.
Parian took the square of spider silk — leftovers from a costume — and ran her fingers along it. Then she levitated the sample with her power, twisting and contorting it before finally letting it fall back into her hand. Though I couldn't make out her expression through her mask, I could tell that we suddenly had the cape's attention. "Just what is this woven from? I've never felt anything quite like this before."
Lisa smiled like the fox that had caught the chicken. "It's spider silk."
"This can't possibly go wrong," Chisel murmured, holding her metaphorical head in her hands.
"What the fuck do we care?" Butcher shot back. "I'm sick of all of this boring shit!"
I shook my head reflexively as I pushed the voices back. "Lisa, did you seriously —"
"I did, and shush." She nodded her head over to where Parian was ineffectually tearing and prodding the little fabric square.
"What I could do with this," Parian mumbled to herself. "Where did you get this?"
"Well, our boss works with the stuff, but at the moment she's too busy to make us all of the clothes and outfits that she has promised." Lisa's response was impressively nonchalant. "So now we're here, offering you triple whatever you would normally charge, plus a steep discount on silk thread or fabric for your own use."
Parian glanced at the three of us, then back down to the sample. "I am… tentatively interested. We would have to hash out the details, but even at those prices, I'm not totally sure I have enough time for a large number of commissions."
"It would help you jump-start that shop," Lisa said smoothly.
"What?" several of the chorus asked.
Fucking Thinkers.
"I suppose…" Parian nodded slowly.
Lisa, of course, pressed the attack. "Plus, we just need the base design. We can do all of the dyeing and embellishments ourselves."
Parian's head whipped around in confusion, the spider silk momentarily forgotten. "Wait, what? I mean, in that case, why come to me at all? Are you sure you don't want help?"
Chrissie snorted, finally joining the conversation. "Sure, wanna help us kill Nazis and take their bones?"
The Butchers roared with laughter and approval at the quip, but Parian was much less enthused. Her posture went stock still for an instant before she jumped up, and my bugs immediately let me know that the puppets were closing ranks so she could escape. Chrissie was giggling at the reaction, which made me all the more annoyed. "Wait, hold up a second Parian, we're not going to hurt you."
"You're with the Teeth!" she squeaked out
"Well, yes," I said, intentionally remaining in my seat and peering up at the admittedly short cape. "But look, we're not going to abduct you, or pressure you, or anything unpleasant. We're honestly here because my friend here is trying to save me some work, and while I appreciate that…" I looked seriously at Lisa, who just smirked, "we're really just here to pay you to make stuff for us."
Parian seemed to consider that, which was a damn sight better than having her run away. "I — I don't work for…" She trailed off, only for her masked gaze to snap to me fast enough that I worried for her neck. "No. Impossible, you can't… you're supposed to be crazy!"
Lisa saved us from the impending violence and destruction in the most unlikely way: laughing. Parian edged away from her, leaning back like she thought Lisa was unhinged. Her puppets shuffled, but otherwise didn't move. At least she wasn't panicking about me anymore?
"Funny how everyone keeps saying things like that," Lisa said once her laugh had petered to chuckles. "But as you can see, she's hardly a gibbering lunatic."
The moon is very nice, yes.
Half of the chorus screamed some variation of 'nerd' at me.
"Listen, we just want some clothes made. We're willing to pay, apparently quite a lot," I shot Lisa a look, "for you to take some work off my hands. Like she said, I have no issue with selling you my silk at an affordable rate, too. Is it really such a problem for us to have a polite business relationship?"
"If it were this easy, we never would have had problems with the Elite in New York," Knockout complained. "I wish we could have taken them out while we were there."
"That was never going to work," Alkaline pointed out. "I mean, come on, Uppercrust is a shield Tinker. They would have buckled down."
Stratego cleared his throat. "Well…" he began, and I immediately knew to tune out the rest of the upcoming argument.
"She hasn't screamed or passed out on us, so I think we're off to a good start," Lisa cut in, and I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes. "What? It was going to be obvious it was a contract from the Teeth eventually, and this could have turned violent if our new friend here couldn't handle the truth." At that, she turned to Parian. "But please, don't worry. None of us are crazy, or want to hurt you."
Chrissy scoffed. "Blondie Mcchuckles couldn't if she tried. I don't have any reason to, and the boss is a long, bony teddy bear… as long as you're not a Nazi."
I gave her a glance. She still wasn't looking at me, and while I'd expect her to poke at us, it felt like she was off her game. It was honestly a bit worrying, and I wasn't sure what to do about it. I'd never had a… not a fight, we've definitely had one of those… but more of a spat? I'd never had a spat in a relationship before, and wasn't finding any helpful examples coming to mind from the others.
Still, this was a problem for later. "You're not a Nazi, are you?"
That seemed to snap Parian out of her shock. "Fuck no," she said indignantly.
"Sounds like a story." Lisa made a show of eyeing Parian's Victorian Doll costume, with its pastel frills and pleats, the dainty white gloves, down to the white stockings showing from under the hem of her dress, and back up to her immaculate blonde curls. "Trouble in paradise?"
The woman slumped fractionally and sighed. "They keep hounding me, trying to get me to join up, scaring away my customers — the little commissions and the stores that hire me to advertise — and I'm not sure they'll take 'no' for much longer." Parian straightened, took a deep breath, and turned sharply to stare my way. "Fuck it. Gangs costing me business, gangs paying for my business… it all evens out."
"Would it help if we paid in stolen Nazi cash?" Chrissie mused innocently, an image ruined by her punk haircut and the tattoos along the arms she was using for her 'pondering' pose.
"Actually, yes." Parian seemed to be grinning wickedly behind her mask, now. "I think I'd like that a lot."
We shared a malicious laugh at that, before Lisa started hashing out the details of our deal. I had to say, between all our ideas? I was looking forward to it.
Hanging out with the Teeth, I had discovered, was like going to the world's worst birthday party. The frantic energy, enthusiastic celebrations, and cheering reminded me distinctly of Emma's XIIIth; except the frantic energy was due to dangerous people on drugs, the celebrations were carnal and poorly muffled, and the cheering was from the crowd watching the fight in the arena below.
And it was (metaphorically) my birthday.
"Every day is like a birthday when you're the Butcher," Knockout said, to general snickers in my head.
Quiet.
Miraculously, they did in fact quiet down. Weeks of dealing with the collective's bullshit meant that as long as the voices were quiet, I was more than capable of reading a book despite the cacophony around me. Sitting uninterrupted on the common room couch was unnervingly like being in the eye of a storm — a murderous, bloodthirsty storm that was only separated from my little island of solitude by an eyewall of even more superfluous violence.
The eyewall was also me. I really needed metaphors that didn't cast me in the worst possible light.
"Hey, Tay, don't be all tense with me. It's uncomfortable." By the time we returned to the lair, Chrissie had worked out whatever her problem was with me and we were back to normal, or she just didn't want the others to see us fighting. Case in point, she had claimed the spot on my lap, alternating napping and playing on her phone while I read my book. Lisa was perched on the end of the couch, having forced Chrissie to sit with her knees bent to avoid having her feet on Lisa's lap.
I did my best to relax and focus on my book, but as soon as my attention drifted to Chrissie, the Butchers took that as permission to be annoying.
"Come on, Taylor, everyone else —" Fester tried, but I shut her up instantly.
"That book was boring, anyways," Marauder complained.
Alkaline flicked her metaphorical chin towards the arena. "If you want to break up the monotony, you could go a few rounds."
I'm not bored, as you well know.
The Butchers continued to prattle on, and while I pushed them all away enough to think, I didn't need to expend the mental effort to keep them all completely clamped down. "So, what's our plan for the afternoon?"
"I'm good like this," Chrissie said immediately, snuggling up against me.
"Ditto," Lisa said, flashing me a smile.
"Me too," Alec added unhelpfully from the other couch. He had been willing to move into the lair with surprisingly little prompting, only to discover that he had a fellow video game aficionado in Michael. The two of them had happily set up Alec's television in the corner and turned the area into their little gaming den.
It was Michael, then, that broke the streak. "I'm having fun, not going to lie, but I kinda want to go fight the Empire some more."
"Let's do it!" "Hell yeah!" "Kick their white supremacist asses!"
I glanced over at the quest board, and to my surprise, the Teeth had mostly chewed their way through the stack. If I went along with them, of course, we could hit anywhere in the city, but I had kind of been looking forward to recharging after all of my own activities recently. Alternatively, I could spend an hour or two and come up with a new stack of quests, but we were mostly done with the easy-to-hit locations. I would have to do some scouting to get some ex-ABB targets or something to pad it out.
"Well…" There was another large storehouse deeper in Empire territory that had been taunting me ever since I had identified the place, but I hadn't put it on the board because it was almost certainly a suicide mission without me in attendance. Given that everyone was currently in party mode, I wasn't confident of our ability to pull off the sorts of tactics needed to sneak into Empire territory, raze the building, and then get out in one piece. "Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves already."
"We'd enjoy ourselves more with more Nazi ass-kicking," Fester suggested hopefully.
Stratego shook his metaphorical head. "Our forces are in a compromised mental —"
"Oh shut the hell up!" Quarrel barked. "They want to have fun, then let them!"
"More than one way to have fun," Ironsides mused. "It doesn't have to be big, but it probably should be, with everyone riled as they are."
"And lead them to the slaughter?" Stratego huffed, his power pointing out exactly who among my people were too strung out to follow orders besides 'go,' 'kill,' and 'die'. A whopping sixty-three percent.
"Rip and tear until it's done?" Marauder quoted hopefully. I gave him a shove.
Our people aren't expendable.
"You're the fucking But—" I shoved the original into the dark before he could finish and piss me off more.
Anyone else like killing their own people? I half-snarled. When there was no immediate answer, I turned back to my book, read the same line three times, and gave up. The book was set to the side and my eyes wandered to find something to take my mind off things. Naturally they fell on the map, and my brain switched to 'work' mode and stuck there. I heaved a sigh, which just made Chrissie wiggle and settle deeper into my lap. I slipped a hand under her and gave her a pinch that had her squeaking in alarm, then my free hand went behind her back and I lifted her into my arms, giving her a slightly-too-hard squeeze with my still fortuitously positioned first hand. I shifted until I could hold her cradled in one arm, and leaned against the map's table.
Chrissie's phone slammed uselessly against my temple. It likely would've cracked if it didn't have one of those super-durable shock cases. "No work. Only play."
"Too much work," I muttered. Chrissie tensed against my arm and fingers, and a glance told me that her blank face was a mask over her fury. "Sorry, I'm just worried." Her lips drifted into a frown, which was better than the glare. "They're out of projects, and I want to keep them busy before I have to make more examples." I gave her another squeeze. "I want to be better than that." Do better, I'd meant to say. It still worked.
"Damned workaholic…" she grumbled, but snuggled into my chest rather than try to argue anymore. I managed to pry my eyes off the map table… only to glance up at the new map hanging on the wall, with all of my classmate's worries and fears etched into every line between my territory and the other gangs in the city.
"I wonder if the Cage wagon is rolling through anytime soon?" Quarrel thought out loud.
I supposed that was a good point. If we could keep the Empire off of the vehicle until it got out of town, that'd be a huge win for the city. And even if they did stop it, we could always deal with whoever was in the transport. The Birdcage was basically a death sentence, but that didn't mean everyone being sent there deserved it.
I wonder if Lee would be any good in the pits without his eyes? He had a lot of fighting experience, but wasn't likely to kill any of the experienced fighters with his handicap.
"She's not nearly as subtle as she thinks," Stratego smirked. At first I thought he was talking about me.
Then I got a flash of memory, from before the memory's owner had inherited. Screaming fans, loud speakers, and a blonde girl singing up on a stage. Her hair, strung with canary-yellow feathers. Quarrel's voice, being drowned out with the rest of the fans singing along to the chorus.
"As much as I hate what they're doing to her, it's not our problem," Chisel stated firmly.
Fester hissed like an angry cat. "It's a violation of basic rights,"
"When's that stopped anyone?" Butcher snarled. "The Man decides you have no rights, you have no rights." I blinked — I had not expected salient points from him. "So just kill everyone and do what you want!" Aaand there it was. I stomped him into the dark.
"It does set a nasty precedent, though," Sanguine added.
As much as I wanted to argue, I couldn't help but agree. Anything that lowered the bar for entry to the Cage was a terrible thing, as far as I was concerned. I thought back over the details Charlotte had sent me, in links and DM rants over PHO. Canary was being tried in Florida, which was half her problem already given their stupid 'tell the press everything but names' laws that gave notable celebreties like her zero anonymity; 'Florida Man' claimed his latest victim. The restraints, lack of court appearances, the silence of her nonexistent defense, the biased judge, the lack of secrecy, the pliable court of public opinion…
I set Chrissie down with a growl, glaring at the map and warping the table under my grip.
"Hey, boss. What's got your panties in a twist?" Lisa asked from the nearest couch. It and its coffee table had become something of her office, where she could easily stand and tweak the map if she thought it worth getting up at all. She was there today, working away at her laptop while waiting for Amy to drop by. I was unconvinced her mother was going to let her go to any party held today on principle, but maybe I was wrong. To be fair, nothing said they had to tell her it was a party.
Chrissie was glaring at me again, arms crossed under her chest. I might as well get this over with. "I was trying to figure out what to do about Canary."
"Oh, that? Already handled."
I turned back from where I was inspecting my girlfriend, watching her brow unfurl and lips purse, signs that she was losing steam to stay angry with me. "What?"
"I'm siccing Carol on it."
I eyed the Thinker's knowing smirk warily. "...why?"
"Well, it'll get her out of Amy's hair for a while, let me spend more time with my… uh… friend —"
"With benefits." Chrissie cut in.
"They're totally fucking." "Are you an idiot?" "Is that not immediately obvious to even the most casual observer?"
"— shut up. Given they're not moving Canary here for her benefit, it means there will be one fewer Brigade Bitch in the city for a while while this thing with the Empire shakes out. Not to mention she's one of the heroes with a hate-on for you in particular, so they're less likely to side against the Teeth instead of the Empire without her to press for it. Should also put her in a decent mood for Amy's benefit once she's back after winning, and keeps you from doing something stupid about it. If we can get New Wave to back off once we've cleared the other gangs out of the city, the cash injection will be good for long-term stability, even. That'd be a… win times seven combo?" She seemed to ponder it, never losing that smug grin. "I'll take it. I know, I'm amazing."
"Well alright, then," I stated, going back to the map and ignoring her preening as I relaxed my deathgrip on the table. "One less thing for me to worry about. Now I just need to find more things to keep everyone else occupied, so they keep out of the habit of hurting just anyone."
"Uuuuuu'bout that…"
The Butcher burst into riotous laughter in my head.
Chrissie and I shared a worried glance, then both turned piercing eyes to the grimacing Lisa. "What is it?" I sharply asked.
She took a moment to choose her words, never a good sign, and bit the bullet. "They really haven't. Stopped, I mean. They just keep it to places they don't think you'll be, like across town from Winslow or the lair, or wherever they think you live." Some of them knew that information, but not everyone in the Teeth knew my full name, let alone my address. I shot a pleading glance at Chrissie, who caught it and looked hurt by the silent accusation. "They're avoiding letting either of you know, because you're so close. I only know because I'm a Thinker, and because I dive way deeper into PHO and other cape gossip places than either of you do."
I gave Chrissie an apologetic look, but she was ignoring me. "Why didn't you say anything?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm only a miracle worker. I haven't been working for you that long, and… I didn't want to interrupt cuddle time."
"I'm sorry." I told them both, then focused on Lisa. "We need to go over exactly what's more important than cuddle time later. For now, things which affect the stability of the gang, the safety of the city, or my men making a liar of me all count. Now how bad is it?"
"Not as bad as it could be. They're doing less than before you took over, if only because they have to roam a bit farther to feel safe about it. They're just not all stopping entirely. A few muggings, some rough shoplifting, picking fights with some civvies they thought were from the other gangs; things like that."
I flopped back into my seat. "Are any of the old capes in on it?"
"You're lucky the worst in this lot is Animos," Chisel murmured. "Remember Bubblebath?"
"I was going to suggest Starburst, but fuck, I forgot about him," Marauder replied.
Alkaline wasn't having that. "You were one of them, dumbass!"
"But at least he wasn't Elmo," Quarrel added, and the others all shuddered in revulsion. Butcher tried to send me a memory of fire, so much fire, only to get dogpiled by the others… and I suddenly knew why they had canceled one of my favorite kids' shows.
Lisa politely waited for me to deal with the chorus, and gave me a rueful smile. "Asking me to tattle?" I stared her down. "… no. A couple bloody pub brawls, and some shoplifting. Nothing to write home about, and no major violence they kicked off intentionally."
"Not like they need to leave to get their jollies," Chrissie added.
Fair point. There were always the pits, the drugs, booze, and willing partners around the arena. Frankly I was just happy she was still here with me. "What can we do about it?"
Lisa shrugged. "Not much, aside from setting up a narc squad and cracking down on it. Patrolling on your own and taking out your own guys might help, or telling the heroes you won't actually defend people pulling that shit no matter their colors, but neither is going to do as much to actually solve it as having your people start turning on each other. Either wait out the slow change or upset gang stability."
The Butchers, happy for a change of topic, made clear their displeasure with that course of action. I was too preoccupied with the combination of Chrissie sitting back down in my lap and the realization that things were not going quite as well as I had been hoping. The map on the wall only served to reinforce that point, and so I tried to turn my mind towards more Tinkery thoughts — much to Damascian's excitement — with the intention of reconfiguring everything downstairs to produce more useful cloth and thread for Parian.
Unfortunately, even that brief respite only lasted a few minutes. My bugs spotted a familiar disgruntled teenager stalking her way through the alleys surrounding the lair, and she flipped off the bigger cluster I brought down to make sure she didn't run into any issues. I kept up the vigil as she slipped through the side door, and soon enough Amy was frowning at us from the doorway.
"Well, as least you all still have your clothes on," she snarked, but further commentary was prevented by Lisa darting over and pulling the healer into a tight hug. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Your implicit challenge to Carol worked like a charm, and I think she's more worried about Vicky going off and doing something stupid than me."
Chrissie snorted in amusement, and I raised a single eyebrow. "I can't imagine why."
"I still can't believe she's Marquis's kid," Sabertooth growled.
Amy shot me a withering glare before digging around in her pockets for… a lighter and a blunt? Several of the Butchers hooted with laughter at that, and Amy made a point of tapping the ash directly on the floor after flopping down into one of the less damaged easy chairs. "Before you get any ideas, I just brought the one, and I'm not sharing."
"One that you modified?" Lisa asked knowingly.
"… slightly," Amy admitted. "Look, I don't want to think about the fact that Carol is being a better mother to me when she's exhausting herself on this Canary case than when she has the time to care. And the last thing I want is all of that random shit ending up in my lungs, so yes — I fixed up a tiny pot plant. Now let me fucking enjoy it, because I sure as shit can't smoke at home."
"I wonder if she made it look like a normal houseplant?" Damascian thought aloud. Damn Tinkers and their ideas. I had to tamp down the snicker at the thought of Carol watering Amy's weed for her, thinking it was something entirely different.
"Make it look and taste like basil!" "Add it to her food." "Make the world a better place!" The Chorus nearly howled, plots and schemes for doing just that to whatever Carol ate that day cropping to mind.
Shut up, all of you. This was serious time, I couldn't be laughing now. I'd suggest it later.
"Hey, more power to you," Chrissie said with a laugh, wiggling on my lap. "Ever thought about becoming a drug dealer? You could probably make bank and never have to heal ever again."
"Absolutely not," Amy said, though most of her usual righteous anger had given way to bitterness in her voice. "Where's the rest of your little gang of murderhobos?"
I bristled at the epithet, but I had spent enough time around Amy already to know that she was just trying to get a rise out of me. "Off not murdering or hoboing, hopefully. They're around here somewhere."
"We're right over here, boss," Michael called, but there was a teasing edge to his tone. The other capes had been surprisingly enthusiastic about 'corrupting' Panacea, and I knew from my predecessor's memories that camaraderie was something most capes sought out. Hell, Alkaline had started off as a heroic-ish vigilante, too, only to become the Butcher after making friends in the gang.
Amy might have been underselling how much work she did on that pot plant, because it smelled a whole hell of a lot less awful than normal pot. The clover-y smell was a sharp contrast to the rest of the party raging around us, and while Chrissie was continuing to tease Lisa about Amy, I was struggling to not join in on her antics. The Butchers mostly had fun watching the party through my bugs and offered commentary; which I pushed into the back of my mind.
Chisel's words from earlier came back, and while I had numerous big issues in front of me — my gang's behavior and territory, the Empire, the PRT, Panacea in my lair — I allowed myself to take a short break and do my best to at least relax, even if it was only for today. All of that could be tomorrow Weaver's problems. Tonight, I had stuff to smoke, a book to finish and a girl to cuddle.