Chapter 3.m
Sunday April 24th, 2011
"What do you mean, Piggot was fired!?"
Missy stared at the bringer of bad — or, if she was being honest with herself, good — news, uncaring of the squeakiness of her voice or the shock on her face. It was hard to be surprised at most Wards related happenings after facing down Hookwolf solo, but this was a bit more serious than a surprise PR photoshoot or new member of the team.
Carlos rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around to the assembled members of the Wards ENE. Missy had to give him some credit for looking professional and in charge most of the time, though she was amused now to see him obviously a bit lost and confused. "That's not what I said —"
"Yeah, yeah," Dennis retorted, waving his hand dismissively. "'Medical leave' my ass. We all knew that this was coming, so let's not try to sugarcoat it. Letting the new Butcher go all Vlad the Impaler on national television isn't exactly what they call a good career move."
Missy noted that both Sophia and Madison shivered at that statement, a small consolation prize for her own unease. She often heard Menja's screams in her nightmares as an endless tidal wave of bugs poured out of the bank instead of hostages…
It wasn't her fault. At least, not entirely.
"Oh no, the big, bad Butcher killed some Nazis," Sophia spat. "Who cares?"
"The PRT, obviously," Madison retorted, but it lacked her usual sting. Over the past month, the ex-vigilante had practically become a different person. It was a good change as far Missy was concerned; she hadn't particularly enjoyed Madison's annoying, cutesy bullshit.
"Well, good riddance," Sophia agreed. "What poor sucker are they putting in her place?"
Carlos shrugged. "No one knows, yet. Renick is acting director for the moment."
"I doubt he'll keep the position," Dean murmured. "I never got the impression that he really wanted the job. He's more of an administrator, and right now we need a leader."
"A leader?" Dennis asked, sarcastically. "To do what? Ever since the Teeth showed up, we've just been sitting on our hands, so why are we surprised when the Butcher pulls the rug out from under us?"
Sophia rounded on him with a snarl. "At least they're doing something, unlike us!"
"Like robbing banks?" Missy shot back.
"Guys, please," Carlos said, waving his arms and floating over between the three of them. "We're all stressed about the Teeth, let's not get into pointless arguments about what we could have done. Instead, let's try to focus on doing better in the future."
Missy rolled her eyes at the useless platitudes, but that was par for the course with Carlos. He wasn't a bad leader, per se, especially since the position was mostly ceremonial. But it was hard to take him seriously at times like this, and Missy couldn't help but wonder how she would do better when it was finally her turn.
Chris, who had been sitting quietly and doodling in a notebook, finally perked up. "So, uh, why are we all here, again? I thought that there was some new Ward or something?"
Both Carlos and Sophia visibly winced at the question, and Dean blinked in obvious surprise at their reactions. He was too polite to do anything with the information, but luckily Dennis had no such hangups. "You two should never play poker," he deadpanned.
"What's wrong, did they quit after they saw how much paperwork there was?" Missy asked, though in reality she hoped dearly that they would join and that the new Ward was a girl. Sophia and Madison were unpleasant at the best of times, but at least they were both better than Emma. Hearing that the latter was out on medical leave herself had brought Missy more joy than she cared to admit.
"We were a bit… ambitious about them joining up," Carlos said, after a moment. "I mean, she seemed nice enough —"
"You scared away another girl?" Missy cut in.
"More like she scared us away," Sophia muttered. "I still can't believe it…"
Madison gasped, which turned into a snort and then a series of giggles. "No. You can't be serious," she said, doing her best to get her laughter under control. Sophia scowled at the reaction, which only made Madison laugh harder. "Seriously? No, that's impossible! Hahaha, oh, that's too funny!"
The other Wards just stared at Madison while she laughed until her sides hurt, and it was Carlos who eventually said, "I assume that you're laughing because you know who we went to try to recruit?" Madison just laughed harder in response, and Carlos just hung his head. "I feel like you're laughing at us, not with us."
"Well, I'm not laughing," Dennis said. "What's so funny?"
"They tried to recruit the Butcher!" Madison gasped out, sending her into another fit of laughter.
Missy's jaw dropped open. "You what!?"
"Emma's dad called the PRT," Sophia said, fixing the still-laughing Madison with a glare that the shorter girl ignored. "I guess Weaver's dad talked to him or something, I wasn't really paying attention. I was too busy trying not to get fucking pain blasted again."
"Again?" Dean asked. "Wait, Mads, how did you figure that out?"
"Guessed," the smaller girl replied, forcing down a hiccup of giggle. "But who else scares Sophia enough that she would admit it?" Sophia gave her the finger for that, but didn't offer any other response.
"You met the Butcher?" Missy asked instead. "Out of costume?"
Carlos' reply came with a long sigh. "I think we technically fought her in her living room. Something tells me that Piggot's surprise medical leave was not a coincidence, because Butcher let us go despite the fact that we technically unmasked her."
"And her girlfriend, and their fuckbuddies, and the little annoying one," Sophia said bitterly. "Before you ask, Mads, she's obviously dating you-know-who."
"Obviously," Madison agreed, a bit of her usual bitchiness creeping back into her voice. "So you went to her house, did the whole 'join or jail' bit, and… what?"
"Miss Militia shot Panacea," Sophia started, only for Carlos to cut her off.
"What the hell Sophia! That was supposed to be classified!"
"Or what?" she retorted, to the genuine amazement of the other Wards. "Militia's going to be the next one out, I guarantee it. Then me or Mads, depending on how much the suits think we've pissed Weaver off." She scoffed, a distant expression coming over her face. "Waste of time. That girl has a will of iron, though you'd never be able to tell by how she acted."
"Christ, Amelia is going to be whining about this for weeks to come," Madison muttered, her thumbs dancing across her phone screen.
"Hold on," Dennis said, jumping up off the couch. "Someone has to be playing a joke, because I could have sworn I just heard you say that Amy Dallon, that Panacea, was hanging out with the Butcher."
"You heard right, dipshit." Sophia scoffed. "Apparently she likes munching on Tattletale, unless I was way off the mark with her blonde girlfriend."
"Oh sweet hell… how are you all not dead?" Chris whispered.
"Weaver is trying to avoid a war with the PRT would be my guess," Madison said with a shrug. She was paying more attention to her phone than the conversation "She's got voices in her head, which makes her schizophrenic, not stupid."
"And they're rolling Piggot out to dry along with everyone Weaver might think was involved," Missy said with a dawning realization. "Shit, Gallant and I might be wrapped up in that thanks to Piggy's Birdcage attempt."
"Yup," Sophia said, flopping back into an empty chair. "Which is why I'm just gonna sit back and enjoy the show."
"You're awfully calm for someone who helped cause Weaver's trigger," Madison said flatly, silencing the room instantaneously. Carlos broke that silence with a strangled choking noise, followed by Dean's explosive sigh.
The empath rubbed at his temples, then gestured vaguely at Sophia and Madison. "You're telling the truth. We're heroes, we don't —"
"Fuck off with the sanctimony," Sophia bit out, ignoring Carlos's objection to her language. "Butcher's already pain blasted me twice, and I'd be dead or worse if she wanted it. You can blame Emma, anyways — I never really cared about her, but it's a damn shame she didn't show any spine before inheriting."
"There are fates far worse than death," Madison muttered as she stood up and made her way towards the exit. "You may just live to regret those words."
Sophia glowered towards the retreating Changer. "And where the fuck are you running off to?"
Madison stopped, and looked back, her face was anything but pleasant as she held up her phone. "Apparently it's my turn to be raked over the coals. Have fun and good luck if Weaver decides to pop back in on everyone."
No sooner had the door closed than Dennis leaned in. "Ok, outrageous but frankly unsurprising news aside," he said, ignoring Sophia giving him the finger, "can we go back to the fact that Amy is dating a supervillain?"
Monday April 25th, 2011
For the first time since joining the Wards, Missy was looking forward to going back to school after a break.
She was still reeling from the bombardment of truth bombs from the day before, not that she would have taken crap from anyone about it. Not only did her bitchy teammates go to school with the Butcher, they knew her personally. Not necessarily in a good way, if Missy understood all of their haunted expressions while the two offered a few stories about going to school with the biblical plague, but that didn't matter to Missy.
The Butcher was still sane… mostly.
Piggot was gone, directors weren't put on medical leave for one mistake.
And Missy had tried to send her to the Birdcage.
It was all too much to think about, in Missy's opinion, and so she had tried to retreat to the only other place she could reliably dodge her parents. Of course, that brought up an entirely different set of concerns, namely the kidnapping of her best friend and the murder of their parents.
Missy was still beyond pissed that Dinah had been spirited away by a literal Bond villain while she had been napping on the sidewalk, though it had at least spared her the embarrassment of being played with by Weaver. Seriously, her teammates had never stood a chance, and as soon as Missy had seen the video, she immediately knew that Weaver had been putting on a show.
If she was being honest, it was a good show. Between the new costume, the murderous confidence, and the swarm, Weaver certainly had a flair for the dramatic that only the best supervillains could really grasp. Of course, now Missy knew that Butcher was just a mostly normal teenager in a shitty situation, so she wasn't sure whether to be more horrified or less.
"Whatcha worrying about?" a familiar voice said, startling her out of her spiraling thoughts.
Missy did not scream.
Anyone who said otherwise was a liar and she absolutely didn't shove her friend who was laughing far too much.
"Aisha, when did you get here?" She hissed, stealing a glance at the clock to figure out how much time they had left before the first bell.
Her friend actually seemed hurt by the question. "I've been here for a few minutes. You were just spacing out and this cinnamon roll," she waved an absolutely massive bun in her face, "was simply too delicious to go to waste."
Had Aisha been there that long? Missy was almost certain she was alone right up until the other girl spoke. How could Aisha have been sitting so close and yet she couldn't smell that heavenly aroma until just moments ago?
"You're just messing with me, aren't you."
Aisha grinned and took a bite from her cinnamon roll that, now that Missy was thinking about it, certainly didn't come from the school cafeteria. "You're just mad that innocent little me finally managed to sneak up on you."
Missy couldn't help but snort. "Innocent? Girl, you're the corrupting influence here and you know it."
She might have been the little gremlin of their circle, but that didn't mean Aisha wasn't pushing herself to get the grades needed to get into Arcadia with them… Not that you would know it by watching her. She thrived on chaos, but under that gruff exterior was hidden an amazingly loyal friend.
"Damn right!" Aisha proudly declared, then passed an unopened pastry box to Missy. Inside was her own massive cinnamon roll; Missy took back everything horrible she'd ever said about the girl. "Oh shit, I think I lost that title before I even got to enjoy it."
Missy turned to follow where Aisha was pointing and sucked in a breath, nearly choking on her bite. Aisha slapped her back vigorously, but her focus was on the strange scene down the hallway: Dinah, whose normal shuffling gait had been replaced by a level of confidence that Missy only saw in veteran heroes and PRT field agents.
However, even Dinah's slight smirk took a backseat to the girl's choices in clothing. She was wearing gray pants with a white tank top lined by a red trim under a scarlet and gray jacket. Missy recognized the color combination instantly: Dinah was wearing gang colors. She was wearing Teeth colors. What the fuck was her best friend doing wearing Teeth colors?
Dinah spent seconds scanning the room before finally spotting the pair, then she practically skipped her way over with a wide grin on her face. Aisha was chuckling as she fished out a third cinnamon roll for the final member of their little trio.
"Hey!" Aisha said cheerfully, handing over the pastry box to the new arrival. "Glad you made it!"
"Aisha, always a pleasure," Dinah said, accepting the pastry with her usual poise. "Missy, was everything alright after they called you out of class?"
"Was everyth— Dinah, I should be asking you if you're alright, I mean your par—"
Missy winced at her near slip.
"You can say it, you know? They died." Dinah's level voice caused Missy's breath to hitch.
How could she be so… cold about it? Then again, Missy would be struggling to not celebrate if her own parents were to die, at least then she might get a guardian that wasn't just using her as a pawn in their ongoing marital spat. The only reason they hadn't gotten a divorce yet was because they were collecting part of her Ward's earnings as a stipend for parental support and a divorce would cut it off until the custody issue was decided.
"Damn, girl," Aisha said with a whistle. "I'm guessing the new threads are part of why you aren't a bleeding heart right now?"
"Partially. It also helps that the man who ordered all of it is dead."
Missy's head snapped up at Dinah's serenely smiling face, but years of knowing the girl let her see the cracks in the mask. Her eyes glistened ever so slightly with unshed tears, the slight quiver in her left hand that she got when things were overwhelming her, the stiffness of her shoulders…
Missy didn't even hesitate to pull her best friend into a hug that she so obviously needed. The tension that she had seen in Dinah's form felt all the more real, and she felt that stony facade crack, but not break.
"I'm alright Missy, you don't have to —"
"You shush. My best friend went through hell and I wasn't there to protect her."
Dinah chuckled, but Missy could tell it was forced. "If it's any consolation, the bastard didn't go quietly."
Missy couldn't help but pull back and look at Dinah, peering at the fire burning in her brown eyes. She knew that Dinah had watched her parents be gunned down, she'd read the PRT report and spoken to Rory about it, but he insisted she not see Dinah until she was ready to return to school.
That was obviously a mistake.
But… Dinah didn't have the look of a victim. She had the eyes of someone who had gone through hell and came out stronger for it. Missy had long suspected her friend's headaches weren't normal, and she'd even reported them to Rory just to be safe… It hadn't been enough, she should have done more. Maybe if she had —
"Alright, snap out of whatever bullshit's running through your head," Aisha said, throwing her arm over Missy and Dinah's shoulders. When had she popped up between them? "Dinah here's obviously doing alright for herself, so give her some slack."
"But —"
"Nope, none of that," Aisha declared. "Eat your damn cinnamon roll before I start calling you one."
Missy grumbled even as she did what she was told. There wasn't much time left before the bell rang and she wasn't about to let something that delicious go to waste.
Classes had gone about as expected: boring and tedious. Schoolwork itself just didn't offer much of an appeal to Missy when her career was already set for her with the Protectorate. She made more than her parents between her salary and merchandising, heck, she was one of the most popular Wards in the country and her merch sales reflected it.
She only shared her final class with Dinah, and she was the most animated that Missy had seen her since the new year. It wasn't until halfway through the class, and with some subtle probing with her powers, that she noticed Dinah was wearing headphones in some slim style mostly hidden by her hair.
Was she not listening to the teachers at all? If her headaches had been of a Thinker variety, then it stood to reason that she could be blocking out whatever information was causing them that way, which was almost ingenious… It also suggested that someone else had given her the idea. Given that she was wearing Teeth colors and Tattletale was a supposed Thinker, it would make sense.
What didn't make sense was the Teeth helping her! Sure, it wasn't a secret that Weaver had some junior member drop Dinah off at the hospital. She'd seen the security footage of the girl over the prior weekend, though she didn't know why Assault nearly choked on his water when he saw her. Even Battery had gone pale, so obviously he knew who she was but both remained tight lipped even after Piggot demanded they answer her.
Thankfully, Armsmaster had intervened and resumed the meeting, shifting the focus to the revised threat ratings for the Teeth. Speculation was that all of the Undersiders were recruited by force but the unexpected defection of Grue a week ago threw all of that speculation out. He also confirmed that he was aware of one other cape that joined but refused to provide anything that might reveal the civilian identities of his former teammates or any of the Teeth.
He also confirmed Coil's death as well as his identity, which nearly drove Piggy into a stroke, which was honestly the highlight of that little meeting. Missy needed to buy Carlos something special for getting them the clearance to watch the redacted version, since Grue did arrive out of costume and stayed unmasked throughout.
Missy really, really hoped that there was another cape, and that Dinah wasn't personally involved in getting her completely justified revenge.
Still, whether or not Dinah was the mystery cape, it didn't paint a pretty picture that the violent murderers were that much stronger now. Hellhound was bad enough, those dogs of hers could tear through people like they were nothing. Add to that some mad bomber? No thanks.
Yet, Dinah was wearing their colors. The colors of a gang that happily used severed limbs as weapons if they lacked other options. The colors of the gang that dealt drugs in her neighborhood as of late. The colors of those who had saved Dinah…
It was such a disconnect, that the most violent gang in the city had saved her best friend when the heroes failed to do so, but it was the truth of it. Was it any wonder that Dinah would be a fan of them after that? The question was, how much of that was just her being a fan of the people that saved her, or was she actually a member? Grue mentioned a new member that wasn't an Undersider…
Was it Dinah?
The thought just wouldn't leave her mind, even as the final bell rang and they gathered their things and made for the front door. Missy needed to know for sure, but how could she do it? Would she follow her? Was that an invasion of privacy? It was, but if she had gotten herself caught up with villains, it was the best thing she could do for her friend.
She saw Aisha wave at her from across the hall, she was about to wave her over when Missy noticed Dinah check her phone and frown. Then the girl was off towards the door and Missy hurried to follow. She couldn't use her powers with so many people around, and pushing her way through so many kids eager to escape their daily prison was a nightmare.
By the time she got out the doors she just barely managed to see Dinah standing outside a really expensive looking SUV. A muscled guy was opening the back door for her, and she could have sworn she saw a blonde seated further inside before the door slammed shut and they were off.
Missy wasted little time running to an out of the way corner where nobody would be able to see her. She quickly pulled out a domino mask and put it on before she twisted space and was up on the roof just in time to see the SUV turn towards the docks.
Crap.
The race was on as Missy scrambled to keep up, hopping from rooftop to rooftop as fast as her powers could carry her. At one point she nearly stumbled over open air in her haste but she pressed on even as the city around her grew more and more run down. Twenty minutes later she felt a chill run down her spine as the SUV pulled into the formerly-defunct parking structure next to the lair of the goddamn Teeth.
When Missy's brain finally got her train of thought back on track following that derailment, she found herself at a loss for what to do next. Should she call this in? Contact Rory and try to keep things quiet? The Butcher was down there, for fuck's sake! She ate people for breaking the Unwritten Rules!
Missy paced back and forth across the roof, various horrible things playing in her head while she wondered what to do. She was definitely not panicking — experienced heroes kept their head cool in situations like this — but the realization that Weaver was potentially right there was testing her nerves.
"Well shit, she actually joined up, huh?"
Missy absolutely did not scream.
"Aisha!? How did you —" Only then did her mistake register as Missy' eyes widened. "I mean, this is a dangerous place, citizen! You should run home before you get hurt!"
"Oh Miss Vista, what would I do without you?" Aisha then snorted and started to laugh. "Nope, can't do it."
"Fuck," Missy cursed, prompting further laughter from her friend.
"Oh don't sweat it, I ain't no snitch," Aisha exclaimed, patting Missy on the back. "Though, odds are the queen bee knows we're here."
Aisha raised her hand and pointed at a small cluster of cockroaches hiding in the shadows of an AC unit, which at first glance didn't seem out of place on a rundown rooftop. Missy reflexively lashed out with her power, stretching the space between the girls and bugs with a flick of her wrist.
Aisha snorted. "Well, if she didn't know before, she sure as shit does now."
She might as well have jinxed them, because haunting laughter started to echo all around the roof as a swarm of flies assembled itself into the vague shape of a person. "Come inside, I promise we won't bite."
Which was a damn lie, it was well documented that Animos ate people. Nevermind what Weaver's bugs like to do to Nazis. Heck, even the gang's name implied the opposite. The Teeth were absolutely biters.
That Missy had no choice but to follow her friend into hell itself alone just made it all the worse.
The entire swarm kicked up into a frenzy no sooner than she had thought that. "Alright, whoever is there with you, drop the power effect. My bugs can smell you and my Thinker power is practically screaming Stranger danger right now."
"Well fuck," Aisha muttered, startling the young heroine. "That just ain't fair at all."
"I'm sorry, we don't give a fuck."
Alarm bells rang in Missy's mind, lectures on Master/Stranger protocols racing through her thoughts. Her friend had never once startled her in the last six months, then school resumed and she managed to do so several times and Missy barely questioned it. Hell, she had just forgotten she even existed moments earlier! It was all of her training, thrown back in her face.
"We'll discuss that later," Missy hissed to Aisha. "Alright, we're coming down, can you clear me a path?"
She pointed down at the Teeth arena parking lot near the entrance, and was surprised when several bugs landed along her arm. Soon, the static that always filled Missy's mind, like a mildly annoying background hum, practically disappeared along her intended path — but only her intended path. That Butcher could control her swarm on that level was mildly terrifying to consider. Then again, she had seen all the relevant footage of Weaver's swarm control, and total battlefield awareness was heavily speculated among the Thinkers.
Space twisted itself easily — far easier than any outdoor space space should be, almost as easily as the PRT testing rooms that had removed all living interference to test her limits — and she stepped through, clearing the nearly two block distance with a single step. Aisha followed behind her a moment later and she let everything snap back to normal.
This close Missy could hear the thrum of the music and the roar of the crowds in the converted sports arena, which made sense as the reports all said that the Teeth threw non-stop parties. However, the guards were stone-cold sober; signs of damage from the attack less than a week prior had been cleaned up and repairs were underway. How they managed that one was a mystery for another day.
"Step into my parlor," the bugs hummed, causing the guards to stand a bit straighter as their eyes went wide.
"Does that make you the spider, or the fly?" Aisha muttered from behind her in a near deadpan.
"Yes." Missy could hear the amusement, even through the bugs. Left goon snorted, trying to hide his smile.
Yuk it up, your boss is a riot.
"Just checking," Aisha replied with her own eye-roll apparent in her tone. The guards, having seen them invited in, stepped aside and allowed them through. Lefty even bowed and swept an arm out welcomingly. The guards watching the entrance from farther back kept their eyes trained on them, weapons lowered but ready.
As Missy took it all in, she saw someone pushing — no, the crowd was parting around them as someone worked their way towards the newcomers. The person in question was a fairly tall and muscular girl, with tattoos up their arms and short, red hair that was — wait, crap, the girl was Vex!
Was she there to kill them? No, Weaver wouldn't have needed any help if she wanted to kill anyone, really. If Weaver decided someone was going to die, not even a live broadcast would dissuade her. Heck, it might even encourage her if Kaiser was any indication
Once Missy could stop worrying about an imminent attack, she did her best to get her bearings. The first thing that jumped out at her was the other cape's clothes — Vex was dressed like she was getting ready to head for school, clad in a simple tank top in Teeth red and gray and skinny jeans. Actually, she'd probably just gotten off school like Missy had before she followed Dinah right into the most dangerous place in the Bay.
Missy didn't even know where to start looking for her wayward friend.
"Damn girl, do you lift?" Aisha asked, pacing around an amused Vex while eyeing her up and down. Did she have no — stupid question, Aisha was as shameless as they came.
"Fuck yeah I lift!" Vex answered with a flex of her arm. "Come on, the boss asked me to show you two to the lounge."
"Could you be any more ominous?" Missy muttered.
Vex glanced back at her. "Yeah, great idea. Tell the Butcher 'no.' At best, you'd be stuck cleaning the basement."
"Full of corpses?" Aisha asked.
"Black widows."
Missy felt a shudder run down her spine at that mental image. Avoiding the scary villain's basement was just common sense and suddenly the thought of visiting the lounge didn't sound so bad. Even if Weaver's powers meant that nowhere was really safe…
As they walked, Missy's eyes kept being drawn to the people around them, who were going about their lives like they weren't in the heart of a dangerous villain's territory. People laughed, they haggled over merchandise or bought food from the various vendors that had taken over the building's former concession areas. It was a bit surreal and felt more like they were intruding in a village marketplace rather than any sort of lair.
If this is what the Empire had attacked… How many people would have been in harm's way? It kept reminding her of those commercials asking for donations to help the less privileged outside of America. It also reminded her of what she had seen cities turn into after Leviathan or Behemoth laid waste to them. The less said about the Simurgh, the better.
This was in Brockton Bay, an American city… Missy knew things were bad, but this? How had things gotten so bad that these people felt they were safer with the Teeth?
"Not what you expected, is it?" Vex asked with an almost pained tone. She must have been watching Missy's wandering eyes.
"I'm a little disappointed that I can't buy Nazi bones here," Aisha interjected. Missy smacked her even as her friend cackled. "What? You had your expectations, I had mine."
Vex almost fell over laughing. "Nah, you gotta earn those."
"Damn. Shoulda cut off a finger or something," Aisha muttered, making Vex laugh even harder. "Or a dick."
Vex wiped an actual tear away. "Kid, the gang is gonna love you."
Aisha practically beamed at that.
"That isn't something to be proud of," Missy hissed.
"Says you," Aisha countered with a stuck out tongue.
"Vista," Vex said, reminding Missy that she was technically in costume right now and in a villain's lair, "we figured you of all people would jump at the chance to spit on Hooky's skull."
Missy paled. "How do you know about that?"
"We have our ways," Vex said with a wink as they went up a flight of stairs. The signs that once directed guests to their box seats had long since been torn down.
"Please don't antagonize the woefully underestimated Shaker, she could drop this whole building onto our heads with a gesture." A blonde, freckle-faced older teen girl said as they entered a more open living space. One that was surprisingly clean for being a wretched hive of scum and villainy.
That the other girl was also unmasked was a surprise and made Missy wonder just how much the Teeth cared about their identities getting out.
"It really isn't a concern," the blonde said with a grin. Missy blinked, had she said that out loud? "No, you didn't. Just ask yourself this, why worry about all that when we have the Weaver option for resolving disputes?"
That was a fair point, actually. Weaver made her stance on identities abundantly clear and anybody who argued against her was a fool. Even the Protectorate had finally made it clear that nobody was to act on any Teeth identities learned through any means and to approach them with the utmost caution.
Worse, it was clear that Carlos, Madison and Sophia all knew who Weaver was and weren't telling the rest of the team out of that same fear. Up until Butcher XV took over, the Unwritten Rules had been tenuous at best and a polite fiction at worst. Looking around the room and seeing numerous unmasked supervillains made Missy reconsider that stance.
She spotted Hellhound sitting between two of her dogs, playing with an energetic Chihuahua that was mauling a knotted rope toy. A rather pretty boy was lounging on a couch next to an older man while the pair shouted obscenities about some game they were playing together; the scythe beside the man pointed to his identity and if the boy wasn't Regent, Missy would eat her skirt. Maybe then they would actually allow her to wear pants, with armored panels to protect her thighs…
The obviously-converted kitchen area in the corner of the former VIP boxes (Missy could see where the walls had been removed) wasn't too different from the Wards', and a woman was fussing over a large pot of something while having a conversation with a thin, balding man that didn't really match any of the Teeth… Oh, he was the guy from the Hookwolf video, which meant the Empire hadn't been wrong about him having a connection to the Teeth.
Missy pointedly ignored the man doing drugs out of some woman's butt, just eewww.
Her eyes passed over her target once before snapping back and finding Dinah was seated at a table playing cards. Missy started walking that direction, trying to figure out everyone else at the table. One was Animos, his identity being included with the PRT files due to a very public incident in New York a few years back. Next to him was a frizzy-haired girl she thought she recognized…
Wait. That was Panacea… the best healer and probably most heroic cape in the city.
Holy shit, Panacea really was hanging out with the Teeth! It had been hard to believe Sophia's story about what happened at Butcher's house, even with Carlos confirming everything, but here she was smoking something obviously illegal and wearing a hoodie in their colors. The drugs barely even registered to Missy, she was so shocked to see someone as upstanding and good as Amy Dallon hanging out and —
"Earth to newbie hero!" the healer in question said, blowing a cloud of sweet-smelling smoke into Missy's face. She coughed and waved it away, to Panacea's amusement, though part of her brain did note that it didn't smell like any drug Missy had encountered before. "Staring is rude, you know."
The rest of the table laughed, except for Dinah and… Aisha? When did she grab a seat? The two of them were talking quietly while the game seemed to continue, both of them shooting Missy significant looks every now and then. Luckily, the supervillains in the room seemed content to ignore her as they milled about, surprisingly at ease.
"Give the newbie hero a break," the blonde girl continued, walking up and draping her arms over Panacea's shoulders. The prickly healer, to Missy's shock, simply leaned into the touch while a small smile curled on her lips. "Does our boss save every damsel in distress that she comes across?"
"It worked for you," Panacea snarked back, though it lacked her usual vitriol. "Unless you want to go back to Coil."
The girl — almost certainly Tattletale, Missy realized — made a disgusted face. "Yeah, no. Let's talk about anything else."
"Like where my girlfriend is," Vex retorted.
Tattletale gestured vaguely with one hand. "She wasn't in the mood for chili, so she went out for pizza."
"That bitch," Vex seethed. "She sends me off to babysit then pops out for a food run? She better remember to get me a double pepperoni or she's going to regret it."
As Vex flopped onto the couch, still grumbling, Tattletale turned to Missy and stuck out her hand. "I'm Lisa, by the way. It's a pleasure to meet you, newbie hero."
"Right, pleasure," Missy bit out. She suddenly understood why senior heroes said to not let the Thinker talk.
However, before she could free herself, Lisa leaned in close and said, "Hey, your friend may be putting on a brave front for all of us, but she's still hurting and could really use her best friend right about now."
Missy blinked at that, focusing back on the reason she was here in the first place. As much as she was worried about Panacea dating a supervillain — and they were dating, those head scratches were definitely not platonic — it was much more disturbing to see Dinah interact with the rest of the teeth.
For as long as they had been friends, Dinah had been kind and quiet, often caught up in her own worries but happy to help others. Dinah with the Teeth, however…
"Oh, go fuck yourself," Dinah snapped, throwing a poker chip across the table and nailing Animos in the forehead. "Even I'm not perfect." The other cape just chuckled to himself, leaning over and picking the chip off the ground.
Aisha wasn't any better, cursing and cackling along with the rest. Missy shot Panacea a desperate glance, only to find the healer's eyes glazed over. It was apparent after a hand or two that Lisa was the only reason she had chips left.
Motion out of the corner of her eye had Missy spin and adopt a ready stance (she ignored the chuckles from the poker table), only to discover a pair of clones that matched the man sniffing drugs dart across the room and return with a pair of bottles.
Spree. Were all of the people in the room Teeth capes and they just didn't care about a hero seeing their identities? Sure, Panacea was technically a hero too, but she was just hanging out with the Teeth and nobody cared! Would they kill Missy if she refused to work for them as well? Was this how villains recruited heroes? It was nothing like her experiences with the Wards, where identities were a huge deal, and Missy could feel her heartbeat picking up.
A familiar, near deafening crack had Missy spinning on her heels again, and she found herself face to face with the teenage girl she had tried to send to the Birdcage. The Butcher was, somewhat anticlimactically, a lanky girl with long, braided black hair and a cute if somewhat plain face. She certainly didn't look like the axe-crazy madwoman that Piggot had so desperately wanted, especially not while she tried to balance a dozen pizza boxes in her arms.
Or, as Missy realized upon recognizing the girl from the hospital video, where she had been carrying a very familiar drugged-up young girl.
Holy shit, the Butcher had saved Dinah personally.
"Pizza's here!" Butcher called out, launching every occupant of the lounge into a frenzy of motion as they rushed to claim their respective boxes, much like a kicked beehive. Weaver was swarmed, leaving her moments later with only three boxes, one of which she passed to Vex and the other to the taller man that Missy now realized had to be Weaver's father. Missy tried not to be jealous of the Butcher's home life as she watched them all sit down at a table, laughing and talking like a family.
She wasn't very successful.
The poker game was quickly abandoned (with some inventive cursing by Panacea), leaving Missy to stand awkwardly at the table until Dinah returned with her own pizza. Nearly everyone in the room were proven killers, and yet, it all felt like Missy imagined the Wards should be. It felt like a community. Not everyone were friends, some may even hate one another, but everyone had their niche and she had the distinct impression that if someone came after any of them, the entire room would descend upon the idiot like the wrath of a vengeful god.
No matter what anyone said, Missy wasn't jealous of the fucking Teeth.
Dinah slid her pizza over, a deep dish with extra cheese and parmesan. Missy reluctantly sat down and accepted a slice; Aisha reappeared at the table with a plate with three different slices on it, none of which came from their table. How could she do something so dangerous in their present company? Her fretting and closer inspection revealed a singular wasp sitting on Aisha's shoulder. Had she been allowed to run amok? Wait, did Butcher figure out a way to beat a Stranger power that even Missy's own power couldn't work around? That just wasn't fair.
"You can take the mask off," Dinah said casually. "Your secret is safe with us, as crazy as that may sound."
"It does sound crazy," Missy agreed, biting into pizza that was probably bought with stolen money. "How can they be so… uncaring about heroes? Anyone could just —"
Aisha snorted. "Oh come on, I know you're smarter than that. Do you want the Teeth to go all out, like a rat backed into a corner?"
"I resent that comparison!" Butcher yelled, causing Missy to flinch and Aisha to laugh. "But she's right."
"Anyway," Dinah said, shrugging. "We're the Teeth, we do whatever we want. If that means giving heroes the opportunity to live their civilian lives in peace, even if they wouldn't do the same for us, then so be it."
Missy's mind flashed back to the meeting yesterday, where it was revealed that Miss Militia, an otherwise upstanding hero, had shot Panacea during a botched unmasking. Were the heroes really that bad? Sure, the Teeth were villains, but being shot in your own house…
"You're on the right track," Lisa said with a grin, then Amy smacked her.
"Stop being a know-it-all bitch, Lise."
"Fine. Fine. I surrender." Lisa said, holding up her hands. "So, now that you've captured this dastardly villain, what do you intend to do with her?"
Amy nearly choked on her drink, coughing and sputtering while Lisa wiggled her eyebrows in a weird way.. What in the world would… Oh… OH! Missy's face turned crimson.
Before Lisa could make things even more weird, Dinah grabbed Missy's hand and hauled her out of the common room. Missy found herself being pulled along rather enthusiastically towards a lengthy hallway lined with doors. As she passed them, she noticed a door splattered red with 'Hemmy' painted on it in dripping letters. Another read 'Reaver' with a scythe spray painted on it. She ignored the doors with a blender and spider webs on them. Finally, they arrived at a door with a raven in flight, grasping a skull. Above it was 'Omen' written in neat script.
Dinah unlocked the door and brought her inside before deftly closing it and locking it in place. Once secured, Dinah slumped against the bed and let out a breath. All her confidence and bravado faded, leaving a girl who was far more weary than any kid should be. Missy couldn't stand to see her like that and pulled her friend into a tight hug.
When the first sniffle escaped, they found another pair of arms holding them tight. Aisha. Right, Stranger. She'd probably been with them the whole time. Thankfully, Missy didn't startle this time at her sudden appearance. With the trio reunited and nobody to impress, the dam burst. Missy and Aisha shared a look, and held their friend tight as she let it all out.
Minutes passed with the only sounds being sobs and quiet reassurances that they were there for her. Eventually, the sobs slowed, and Missy had to know the truth.
"Are the Teeth forcing you to work for them?" Missy whispered. "The Wards could help you if they are."
"It isn't the Teeth," Dinah muttered. "It's the numbers. They wouldn't let me join the Wards with you."
"Numbers?" Aisha asked.
"My power. I ask questions, and it gives me numbers. Probabilities of future events." Dinah was trembling, so Missy held her closer. "Joining the Wards… the numbers were bad. So much death. Entire cities… Entire countries. Billions died within two years."
That sounded… Insane! "How does joining the Wards lead to that?"
"I don't know!" Dinah screamed. Missy's ears were ringing as Dinah continued. "The only option that didn't seem to end the world was to join the fucking Teeth!" Dinah started sobbing again, clutching Missy's shirt tightly. "I killed Coil. He kidnapped me and killed my parents trying to get me and I thought I was in one of the bad ones. Even after Taylor rescued me and took me to the hospital, the numbers didn't change, and Coil was still going to hurt me in the future. I did the only thing I could, and played the role I would need to fit in with a gang full of murderous monsters. I became an Omen to change the fate of humanity."
The weight of that revelation settled upon her heavily. Just how did you counter such a loaded statement? That one person's actions could have such an impact, powerful parahuman or no, boggled the mind.
"Would it help if I joined too?" Aisha asked, Missy's head whipped up to look her friend in the eyes. "My power is pretty badass and all and this way you aren't alone."
Dinah began to mutter to herself and her eyes widened as she continued. "The numbers get better if you join the Wards. If you join the Teeth…"
Aisha winced. "That bad?"
Dinah shook her head, and Missy could see now that she was in pain. "The overall numbers aren't that different on a global scale, but on the local scale... Aisha, you joining the Teeth would save thousands."
"But at what cost to her?" Missy blurted out, tears now welling in her own eyes. "Just look at what joining the Teeth is doing to you! You'd ask Aisha to do that too?"
"I'd be helping her,." Aisha nearly growled.
"What about the requirement to join the Teeth?" Missy countered. There was no way she was going to let Aisha make this mistake, not when she was there to prevent it. "The Teeth are murderers, do you really want to bloody your hands like them?"
"Oh, Missy…" Aisha said, a sudden weariness enveloped her as she gave a tired smile. "I've already killed two people." Missy's everything crashed to a sudden stop. When? How! "Two Empire guys jumped me on my way home. They held me down, undid their pants, then they just… Forgot about me. I didn't think about it all that much, just grabbed a knife off one of them and shanked them both."
"I'm not sure that would count for an initiation without proof," Dinah said.
With a flourish, Aisha had a knife in hand. She recognized it from history class, a Hitler's Youth knife. "You were saying?"
"Eh, a preserved tattoo would be better, but it should get your foot in the door."
"Are you two nuts!?" Missy shrieked.
"We're parahumans." Dinah stated plainly. "Are any of us truly sane?"
Missy couldn't help but scoff at that. "Alright, since you care so much about your precious numbers: where do I fit in all of this? Does it help the Teeth if I join, too?"
Dinah frowned at Missy, and she realized that comment might have been a bit much. That went doubly so when Dinah winced in pain from her obvious Thinker headache. "No, the PRT couldn't handle that insult. Aisha… there's a high chance that the PRT would move you somewhere else and —"
"What, Dinah, are you going to sit here and just tell everyone what to do?" Missy retorted angrily.
"You think I wanted any of this?" Dinah seethed. "I knew the chances of seeing my parents again the day of the kidnapping were much lower than normal. I knew I wouldn't see my mother's face again as soon as you were called out of class. The numbers never lie, they just lack context. Lisa is helping me learn to word them properly, to use my power effectively."
"To the Teeth's advantage," Missy countered.
"Yes. Not that the PRT wouldn't have done the same. There was a greater than seventy percent chance I would be kidnapped and enslaved for my power within a year if I joined the Wards. Weaver keeps me safe from that just by existing. She's always there when things get bad. Through the Water and the Flames, until the Golden Dawn rises, Weaver is always there."
Missy didn't have an answer to that.
Dinah had eventually fallen asleep, curled up next to Aisha while the latter noodled on her phone. Missy had been too distracted by the fact that another of her friends was joining the Teeth to talk very much, but the other two had seemed to appreciate her being there anyways. It was hard to argue with the precog, and Missy knew enough about Thinkers to know that Dinah was probably pretty good.
So, trusting in the Butcher to keep her own capes safe — and not thinking about how it had been the crazy serial killer to save Dinah in the first place — Missy decided to leave the villainous lair. Retracing her steps back to the lounge brought her into a very different space than when she left, with a dance party happening in one corner while other Teeth did… things on the couches pushed up against the walls.
Missy rushed past them to the railing looking out over the infamous death pits, only to discover Weaver herself fighting. Amazingly, the teenage villainess was blindfolded and fighting six-on-one with no weapons, and no costume. Just a tank top and jeans. Missy was only a little ashamed to admit that she was rather impressed by watching Weaver fight.
"It's so weird, seeing her down there," a familiar voice said, and Missy nearly jumped out of her skin when she turned to find Madison leaning on the railing next to her.
"Madison?" She whisper-shouted, steadying herself on the railing. "What — how — why?"
The other Ward didn't answer immediately, collecting her thoughts as Butcher ducked and wove around punches beneath them, never striking her opponents hard enough to kill nor letting them land a hit on herself. "How much do you know about the Elite?"
Missy blinked at the non-sequitur. "Uh, not much? They're not around here."
"Uppercrust is responsible for the Rig's shields. Agnes Court sponsors hero groups. The whole of the west coast villain scene is basically run by them. They've got violent capes and can be as bloodthirsty as the, well, Teeth, but…"
"But?"
A resigned expression rolled over Madison's face. "Oftentimes, the PRT prefers the Elite to whatever chaos existed before they showed up. I mean, who in their right mind would be a major, visible villain in New York, Houston or LA when the Triumvirate can come knocking?"
"What are you implying?" Missy asked, a sinking feeling in her stomach.
Below them, Butcher had somehow pulled off one of her opponent's belts and used it to tie two of the others together, much to the amusement of the Teeth in the stands. Madison waited until the cheering had died down to shrug. "Mostly that Taylor and her mildly less awful group of murderhobos aren't going anywhere, anytime soon. And if the Teeth are willing to let Wards hang out with them, it's not because they think the PRT won't find out."
The older Ward produced a bottle of something in her other hand that reeked of alcohol, but Missy's mind was too preoccupied to think about that. Madison was a Changer, knew the Butcher somehow, and was far more comfortable here than a hero should have been. "You're Ripley. That… doesn't make any sense!"
Madison shrugged. "Personal reasons. Believe it or not, some of us wanted the Nazis gone more than we cared about our superiors' displeasure. Except Assault, he understood… Amelia —"
Missy followed the other girl's glance to the dance party, finding Lisa and Chrissie dancing while Amy flailed wildly, but she was too thunderstruck to find the scene funny. Really, none of this was funny — her friends were murderers, her teammates were villains and traitors, her bosses were incompetent…
Missy was barely aware of Madison's voice falling off, or the girl patting her on the shoulder before disappearing back into the party. She was lost in her own tangled thoughts with only half of her brain paying any attention as the next fight started up.
This one was much more Teeth-like than the last. Instead of Weaver's graceful dodging, this fight featured a burly older black man brutalizing a young skinhead. Honestly, it was barely a fight; Missy winced as he ripped the teen's arm clean out of its socket and began to beat him to death with his own severed limb.
For some reason, Missy's brain was more than happy to substitute Dinah or Aisha in for the huge combatant, and it was all too easy to imagine Dinah's unhinged smile or Aisha's cackling laughter as they —
Missy felt something wet hit her face. She moved mechanically, touching the splatter, and her fingers came back red.
Her stomach twisted immediately.
She turned and hurried over to the kitchenette and leaned over the sink, emptying the pizza she had eaten earlier. Someone came up behind her and began to rub soothing circles along her back as she heaved once more, forcing the last bits of bile out.
Missy continued to cough and spit as a glass of tepid water was offered. "Rinse and spit, don't swallow."
She followed the advice mechanically, doing as directed, as her own instruction with the Wards had told her what to do in first aid situations. A glass of crushed ice followed and she took a small bit of ice to suck on.
"Thank you," she muttered, then she remembered that voice and froze.
Weaver.
Weaver had been the one to comfort her.
Space stretched and warped between them, transforming the foot or so space between them into ten. Only once she was safely apart from the other cape did Missy turn around, bracing herself on the sink and —
Weaver didn't care.
In fact, no one in the party seemed to care, apart from a considering look from Weaver's father where he was talking to Hemorrhagia. Weaver herself seemed distracted by the effect, her mouth twitching — right, crazy girl had voices in her head — but otherwise didn't react as Missy slowly let the room's geometry go back to normal.
"Huh," is all the famous gang leader said before she turned her attention back to the party. Or whatever Weaver did when she wasn't feeding her enemies to her bugs, Missy supposed. Something told her that 'calm disinterest' wasn't exactly normal Butcher behavior.
"Why?"
Weaver froze midstep, and Missy was surprised as anyone to hear the word come out of her own mouth. When Weaver twisted back around, Missy swallowed before continuing. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
A slightly unhinged half-smile quirked on Butcher's lips, and Missy wondered for a brief second if she knew how strange it looked. "Why wouldn't I? 'Butcher bullies twelve year old girl' is hardly a good look, and the others can't stop laughing about the situation."
Missy noted, with some horror, that no one else was laughing… at least that she could hear. That meant the voices, and something about Weaver's casual admission that she had fourteen supervillains in her head sent chills up Missy's spine.
Her mouth charged off ahead of her brain. "Well, um, you know… the whole thing, earlier this month?"
Butcher froze at that, going inhumanly still for a few seconds. That was even worse than the voices, in Missy's opinion — normal people, even capes, didn't just stop and stare like that. Then the moment passed and Weaver started emoting again, though Missy wondered how much of her nonchalance was faked. "Ah, that. Honestly, part of me is a bit absolutely livid over all of that, but I understand you were doing what you thought was right. Can't fault you there."
Was… was Butcher actually insane? Missy had been around enough capes to know that 'oh, sorry we tried to send you to the Birdcage' shouldn't just be shrugged off, especially not by the fucking Butcher. Missy realized that she was tensed up, looking for a way out while adopting one of the defensive postures the PRT taught her that made it harder to pin her down… and Butcher was just standing there, hands in her hoodie pockets.
Then Missy's mouth tried to get her killed. "What would you know about doing the right thing?" she blurted, her brain stumbling on the idea that this gangly teen had splattered Kaiser all over a sidewalk. "You're like, The supervillain!"
Weaver blinked a few times before that damned weird smile came back. "Oh, don't tell that to Jack Slash. He, uh," she winced, "doesn't take kindly to insults like that."
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Missy hissed.
In response, a burst of butterflies descended from the ceiling, and Butcher took three long strides through the fluttering mass towards Missy. Her panicked attempts to stretch space again were thwarted by the bugs, leaving Missy at the Butcher's nonexistent mercy —
Weaver turned at the last moment, leaning against the counter next to Missy while the butterflies swarmed around them. A traitorous part of Missy's brain noted that they were actually quite pretty. "It must be so easy for you," the villain said quietly. "You're photogenic, have a good power, and clearly have the determination necessary to be a good hero if you're willing to charge into the Teeth's lair to save your friend. Hell, you faced down Hookwolf, apparently. Having just done that myself, I can say you are kind of a badass."
A spike of rage went through Missy that first person to recognize her potential was the fucking Butcher. "Shut the hell up! You're a villain! You hurt people for fun! You cheat and lie and steal and kill! You don't get to tell me that I'm doing a good job! If you were really a hero like you claimed, why didn't you turn in the Teeth?"
Butcher shrugged, the almost bored motion taking some of the angry wind out of Missy's sails. "Honestly? I was going to, eventually. The PRT didn't give me enough time to clean up the other gangs first before they decided that I was the bigger problem. I wasn't allowed to be a hero." She waved a hand, dispersing the butterflies with a gesture. "But the Teeth are mine now, and if the Protectorate isn't going to help the people of the Bay, then we will."
Missy seethed at the insinuation. "You kill people."
Butcher shrugged again. "Only when necessary."
"It's never necessary!" Missy spat.
"Kaiser would never have backed down," Butcher said calmly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "He couldn't, not without losing the image of strength that was so important to the Empire's normal members and more than a few of his capes. Besides, he was a killer, too — all those minorities that the Empire brutalized, nevermind the independent heroes he's killed over the years."
"Did you have to kill all of the other capes, too?"
Something unpleasant flashed over Butcher's face. "Who do you think was doing all of the killings? It wasn't like Kaiser could be everywhere, and —"
Missy pushed herself off the counter, cutting off the villain mid-explanation. "No. I'm not going to sit here and listen to your justifications for why it's okay for you and your Teeth to just murder people, even if they are Nazis. You may have tricked Amy and Dinah and Madison, but I'm not going to let you whisper poison in my ears too. And since they're probably not going to say it… you would have made a shitty hero."
Butcher's façade cracked at that, revealing an expression of pain and sadness. When it turned to anger, Missy remembered who she had just insulted, and tried to retreat before she got pain blasted. However, when she attempted to stretch space with a flick of a finger towards the exit, another wall of butterflies descended and blocked her retreat.
"Wait," Butcher called, sounding somehow younger and more exhausted than her earlier confident tone. "You're still sick, and I don't want you to pass out on the way home. I… don't blame you, and Dinah would never forgive me if something were to happen. We've got a guy who makes pretty good soup over in the concession area. Want a bowl before you go?"
Missy was sorely tempted to tell Butcher where she could stick her butterflies, her soup, and her shitty rationalizations, but her stomach was empty and she could admit that was a problem. The suspicious part of her brain wailed about poison and drugs, but Butcher had saved Dinah… so it was probably fine. Besides, even if she did get poisoned, Missy had Amy's phone number from Dean and —
Oh right, Amy was a villain now, too.
"Yeah, I guess," Missy said, tearing her eyes away from the 'dance' floor. She also ignored the way Butcher's expression perked up a bit before the butterflies dispersed, and soon she was following the axe-craziest villain of them all through the halls of their ruined sports arena.
They were joined almost immediately by the man from the — ugh — fight earlier, and Missy's stomach turned again when she realized that he was cleaning the blood out from under his fingernails with a knife. "Hey, Robbie," Butcher said as he walked up. "Shit fight."
"At least I killed the guy, even if the surety of his end was the only reason for the spectacle."
Butcher groaned. "I'm not killing my own Teeth, and I don't care that my predecessors used to do so. Shut up, Quarrel."
The casual talk of brutally murdering someone only a few years older than her ratcheted the horror factor of Missy's situation back up quite a bit. Butcher thumbed back at her. "Pizza didn't sit well, so we're looking for something lighter."
Robbie nodded up with an appraising hum. "I'd intended to speak with you regarding next week's training schedules, but that can wait."
"Vista, this is Big Robbie. He's, uhh… like our Renick, if the guy went full Conan more often."
Missy stared, trying to picture the reedy administrator that kept everything in order for Piggot standing before them now — covered in blood, gore on his boots, and casually cleaning the murder from his skin. She imagined something popping and fizzling in the back of her brain, as it failed to compute.
"There would be fewer problems in this city if he did," Big Robbie grunted. "The shitstain is a coward like the rest of them."
"Violence can't solve everything," Missy huffed.
The man gave her a toothy, intimidating grin. "On the contrary, violence may not always be the optimal solution, but every problem has a level of violence that will work, and we are very good at it."
That left her staring again, before then turning to Butcher and waving her hands at the man in a 'See? This is what you're working with' motion.
The villain shrugged. "I have a cumulative century or two of memories that kind of agree."
"You're all terrible," Missy muttered, half-heartedly.
"Thank you, we've been practicing," Robbie shot back, which earned him a fist to the shoulder just hard enough to rock his large frame from Butcher herself.
"Come on, we still need that snack."
Big Robbie idly rubbed at his new bruise and followed, and Missy once more found herself unsupervised in a supervillain's lair. The thought was dashed as she spied a cloud of flying bugs up and off to the side, likely a security camera analogue. That had her wondering if they had normal, mundane security like cameras. The building probably had a room set aside for it, even if the actual cameras and gear would have needed replacing by the time they moved in.
On her walk through the rest of the building, she found it was just as odd as what she'd seen on her beeline to the cape loft. Past the basketball court converted into a blood pit, there were a few demolished walls leading over to a ransacked boxing ring.
The stands were completely torn up, the space divvied into rows of ramshackle huts and grill pits, with only the odd bit of visible flooring to remind of its origins. The space between that and the vendor sections had been ripped apart or tunneled through, to where she was slowly walking and taking in the sights through all the holes in the place. What was once a string of vendors and concession stands leading to the arena proper had been taken over as well, every bit of space used for something or other.
She passed by storage spaces, including what looked like a fucking armory with weapons modified in ways she knew weren't legal and a few huddled groups gathered together to craft various things. They mended clothes, reinforcing, padding, and adding bones. They had an unhappy looking circle peeling potatoes, onions, and other vegetables, and a much happier group cutting up meat, all likely intended for those grills she'd seen earlier. There were little stalls selling trinkets, and past that a line of former concession stands turned restaurant stalls. A couple were just frying whatever they could get their hands on, but there were a few specialty stalls to supplement the grease traps.
Seeing that her looking around had caused her to lag behind, Missy sped up a bit, but Butcher herself seemed to be meandering about, too. The villain was making a show of looking around when she likely knew exactly where they were going, like a tyrant surveying their holdings. No one seemed alarmed by her presence, though. If anything, they seemed excited that she was stopping by and paying them any attention. The whole trek through, they'd been lavishing her with thanks, or praise, or offerings, all politely demurred or declined.
Butcher gave Missy an unreadable look when she finally caught up, leading the way to a stall near the end that had cloth sheets covered in large Asian letters blocking the view inside. The guy behind the counter stood straighter when he saw them, clasping his hands and bowing while chanting out a greeting. The ABB had been in town about as long as Missy could remember, so she'd picked up some bits of various Asian languages here and there; now, it was enough to recognize that it was Japanese, some greeting with special honorifics.
Missy watched in blank amazement as Butcher launched into her own long greeting in Japanese which she couldn't follow at all. The one younger guy who had been sitting at the stall glanced back, choked on his noodles, and scrambled off to the side to make room. Butcher snorted and rolled her eyes at the reaction before continuing in English. "This one isn't feeling well, so we'd like something that's mostly broth for her."
The man bowed again, immediately dishing up several small cups of broth. Praying that the asshole gods of Earth Bet weren't about to smite her, Missy sat down and accepted the soup. Miso, beef, and chicken, it seemed. The other two ordered more complete dishes while she sipped at the chicken broth. She was halfway through the miso when something that'd been bothering her bubbled back to mind. "I didn't expect to see anything so… Asian, here."
The chef paused in his cooking, glancing at Butcher. "Lung dead. Oni gone. ABB will not last now."
"Why here, though?"
Butcher chuckled, and answered for him. "Because we don't check papers or criminal records."
He nodded graciously, and Missy watched him more carefully as he went back to cooking. "So he's a criminal, too."
Big Robbie made an unpleasant noise, only for Butcher to put a hand on his shoulder. He let out a weary sigh instead. "Varying degrees of 'criminal'. I'm sure he's just here without a green card, or left the wrong gang when Lung came to town and doesn't like his odds with his old buddies, or something like that. Not everyone here is a murderer, we tend to collect run-of-the-mill outcasts, too."
Missy's mind scrambled for some other incongruous point that would topple the argument. "Wasn't there anything here already?"
"Sure." Butcher shrugged. "Remember that Night tore through here before we cleaned it up. It would've been repurposed eventually, but someone new coming in made it happen faster."
The cook gave them a nod, and Missy watched him work for a bit. "Just making life work, huh…" She glanced to the side, past Butcher to the large black man, as their food was served. "So, why did you join the Teeth?"
Robbie took a moment to pull a string of noodles to start cooling with his chopsticks. Then he waited until she took another drink. "I was trying to fuck the Butcher." Missy choked and coughed, to Robbie's great amusement. "The First was straight, but appreciated my audacity. I stuck around."
"I just really like pot." All four of them paused to stare at the young man to Missy's other side, who shrank down at their attention and swiftly excused himself.
"God dammit, Sparky," Butcher muttered before turning her attention back to Missy. Something unpleasant flashed over her face before she pulled out that damned creepy smile again. "Pretty sure you were there for the pivotal moment in my own story."
Missy just groaned and rubbed at her face.
"More?" the cook asked her.
She bit back her cringe and nodded. "Miso, I think."
"Noodle?"
"Yeah, I'm doing better now." He nodded and got started. The silence dragged until it started to feel awkward. "So, uhh… You and the Butcher?"
This time it was Butcher that started choking. Robbie let out a raucous belly laugh and slapped his boss's back hard enough that it would have put Missy in the hospital, yet the blow barely budged her. The Butcher turned a gimlet glare onto Missy. "Really? Really? You're trying to wind up XVI via a noodle incident?"
Big Robbie fell off his stool, he was laughing so hard.
"N-no! Besides, you're fine. You've got to have at least three powers that can deal with that," Missy stated, rambling in her sudden panic.
Butcher turned away to ponder it, even looking up, bringing a finger up to her lips to complete the image. About twenty seconds later, her neck started getting longer, and the skin grew patchy as it stretched. It took another fifteen seconds for Missy to realize Butcher was giving herself a snake's neck, at least in part. "You know what, yeah. Probably." Her voice was eerily deep now, causing Missy to flinch. She chuckled, neck snapping back to normal over another three seconds, as she turned to Robbie. "You never did get to fuck one of us. I'd remember that."
He pushed himself up to stand and dusted himself off. "Much like most of the Butchers, you are not my type. And having your girlfriend try to murder me would be… vexing."
Butcher guffawed, spraying soup into her bowl with unerring accuracy. "I'm totally telling her that one. And no offense, but you're too old, anyway."
Robbie grinned. "You won't be the last. I can always take my shot with the next if he is more to my liking. From what I understand, you'll at least get to watch."
Missy winced, and even Butcher grimaced as she stared off into open space, her skin paling by the moment. "No, nope, not even touching that one."
"So you have… memories?" Missy asked, voice tinged with horror.
She gave her a half-glare. "I saw you on the AMA, did you not actually read that part? Or did you think I was joking about having memories of a past Butcher being… intimate… with my mother?" Missy shuddered, turning away. It was only then she noticed her ramen had apparently been done for a while, and she turned a bit green. "Yeah, that's what I thought."
Missy definitely didn't have a response for that comment, and so instead focused on slurping down her admittedly tasty soup. Some horrible part of her noted that this was a more pleasant experience than she usually had at restaurants with lawful authority figures, and that same horrible part suggested attempting to bring her parents here for dinner. She doubted the Teeth would put up with their bullshit.
"This is weird. Sitting here, with villains. Poking fun."
Butcher — well, maybe she could be Weaver — gave Missy the first honest, normal smile she had seen on the girl. "Weird is relative, Brocktonite."
Missy rolled her eyes. "This city isn't that bad, Weaver."
"It absolutely is, and I told you to call me Taylor."
"A superhero, a supervillain, and a big gay gladiator walk into a noodle stall…" Robbie mused aloud.
"HA! Only in Brockton Bay!" Weaver cheered.
Missy started picking at her noodles. "So… Omen."
Weaver's smile turned brittle. "Your friend, Dinah."
She wasn't sure what it would accomplish to say as much, but these two did seem to like Dinah, from what she'd seen earlier. "Fine. My friend Dinah. She's… I'm worried about her."
Weaver stared down her nose at her for an uncomfortable moment, then grabbed another stickful of noodles. "Good."
"That's it?"
"I don't break friendships lightly, nor at all if I can help it." There was an old hurt deep in Weaver's tone, the sort of pain that doesn't go away completely.
"She lost her parents. She's…" There was really no going back, if Missy continued. "She's hurting. Putting on a front. Pretending."
Weaver set her chopsticks down. "I know."
Missy looked past her, and got a big black eyebrow raised in response. "I was not always Big Robbie. Almost, but not quite."
"Okay." Missy took a deep, fortifying breath. "I'm going to be there for her. You can't stop me."
Weaver gave her a smirk, and Robbie stared off into the distance with a wistful smile. "Wild horses, kid."
Missy gave him a small smile of her own. "Yeah. Look, thanks for the soup, and for taking care of my friend, I guess. If you hurt her, I'll make you pay." The two supervillains laughed at that, but Missy got the distinct feeling that they were not laughing at her.
"Ah, the future Butchers keep getting younger," Big Robbie mused.
Missy didn't have a response to that, so she just gave the two of them a wave before making her way out of the arena with the help of some bug arrows. She was four rooftops on her way towards home, thinking about her friends, the Teeth, and their surprisingly personable leader when the reality of the situation hit her like a fucking truck.
Her friends were still back in their lair.
Panacea was too.
Missy was calling the crazy cape 'Weaver' in her head.
One of her friends was a Stranger.
She pulled out her phone with trembling hands and dialed without looking. "Armsmaster? I need to make a report. Right now."