Interlude 1, Sophia

Saturday, February 19th,

Sophia Hess twisted in her cell, gritting her teeth as she toyed with the pair of handcuffs around her wrists. She considered trying to shift into her shadow state and pass through the cuffs, but she knew that was a bad idea. She didn't need a Tinker rating to see that Armsmaster had made these cuffs especially for keeping her restrained. They weren't just regular handcuffs, but instead some kind of Tinkertech shackles that doubled as bracelets and had some kind of current running through them to specifically counter her abilities. Fucking prick.

She sighed. Sophia was done for, she fucking knew it. With the state Hebert was in when they found her, it was no wonder that Piggy decided to drop the hammer of God on her. Sophia frowned at the memory of Hebert. Despite how much she hated the fucking weakling, especially for ruining her life, even Sophia couldn't help but wince at the thought of what they did to her. Emma just wanted to push Taylor into becoming strong, into growing a fucking spine and biting back. Instead, they left her to rot and get half eaten by bugs.

The campaign of terror you have committed is nothing short of devious, cruel, and outright villainous. The words of the judge who sentenced her rang in her ear, almost making her want to slam her fist against the cell wall. She wasn't a fucking villain! Sure, she wasn't the fucking shining poster girl Ward the PRT wanted her to be, but she'd much rather be her badass predator self who did what was necessary to keep society running rather than one of those nose-in-the-air pussies.

Meanwhile Taylor was just another sheep. A weakling. A victim who didn't have the strength or guts to fight back and take what she wanted, no matter how much she or Emma fucked with her. If it wasn't for Emma, Sophia would've never even taken notice of the fucking geek. But despite all of that, how much Taylor pissed her off, even Sophia had to admit that when she saw the images of Taylor's body after she was pulled out of the locker by the EMTs, even she didn't think Taylor deserved that. It was just supposed to be a short prank to scare her. They never meant for it to go that far.

Sighing, Sophia let her head hang back, leaning on the wall of the cell. Great. She was so bored she was starting to get introspective. At the very least she was being kept in the nicer, padded holding cells of the PRT HQ, rather than a regular concrete one in the police station or something. A buzz in the cell stole her attention.

"Sophia," the voice belonged to Miss Militia. "May I come in?"

Sophia shrugged. "Not like I have much of a choice."

"You always have a choice." Sophia could hear the frown in Miss Militia's voice. "If you don't want me to come in, then just say so. But you haven't heard any updates about what's going to happen to you, correct? Nor have any of your teammates come to visit. Even you must be getting lonely."

"Fuck no, I don't need those pussies." Sophia snapped. There was a brief pause as Sophia actually took a breath in. "But… I do want to hear what's going to happen to me. So fuck it, come on in."

With a pressurized hiss followed by the sound of the nearby solid metal door sliding open, Miss Militia entered the cell. Sophia didn't say anything as the heroine entered. Militia was in costume of course, those tight fitting army fatigues that showed off her tits way too much. Fucking PR. Rather than saying anything, Sophia just glared at Militia as she took a few steps and stood near her bed.

"How are you doing, Sophia?" Miss Militia began.

Sophia scoffed. "Oh God, spare me the fucking small talk. Just tell me what you came here to tell me."

She could see Miss Militia's frown behind her American flag bandanna. "Your special accomodations in the North Brockton Bay Juvenile Detention Facility are finally ready. You're being transferred tomorrow, and there you will be kept under constant supervision for the next ten years. I could say congratulations on not getting the Birdcage, but in all honesty, you're only a few steps below it. You'll also get to keep your bracelets to keep you from using your powers."

"Joy," Sophia muttered out with as much sarcastic spite she could muster, which at this point wasn't actually all that much. She was more tired than anything. "Any other good news you want to deliver?"

Miss Militia gave a small sigh. "There's not much else to say. You already know that with good behavior, you could get out within five years instead of ten. Mr. Barnes is attempting to appeal, but from the looks of it, that won't go anywhere." Miss Militia shook her head. "At the end of the day Sophia, you made your bed, and it's time for you to lie in it. I'm only sorry we couldn't help you become a better person, and that we couldn't stop you before you maimed that poor girl."

Sophia considered cursing at Miss Militia, or flipping her off, but in all honesty, she just didn't have the energy to. "I… it wasn't supposed to go that way," was all Sophia could say.

Miss Militia gave Sophia a look that she swore was pity. "But it did. Intent doesn't matter when the result is so egregious." Miss Militia shook her head. "At the very least, you seem to show some regret."

That caused a spike of anger in Sophia. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You think I'm some kind of fucking psychopath or something!? Some kind of villain?"

Miss Militia's silence was telling.

"I'm a fucking hero damnit!" Sophia shouted out, to Miss Militia, to herself, Hell even to God. To anyone who would listen really. "How many wannabe E88 gangers have I put in a cell? How many Merchant or ABB dealers have I pulled off of the street? Hell, you know I was Piggy's magic bullet against Hookwolf and Lung! I am not a villain! That shit with Hebert, it… it was just a fucking prank." Sophia's words petered off as she felt herself deflate. Even she knew she didn't really have an argument here.

Sighing, Miss Militia turned around and began walking away. "If I see you in the future Sophia, hopefully you'll have changed for the better."

Watching Miss Militia leave, Sophia just shook her head before resting back against the padded wall. She was just… too tired to keep arguing and fighting right now. So she decided to just wait for her transfer.


Sunday, February 20th…

Sophia rocked in her seat as the armored car transporting her ran over what was probably a pothole.

Watch the fucking road, Sophia thought as she grit her teeth. While she wasn't completely restrained Hannibal Lecter-style within the cab like she'd seen other captured Capes, the back seats in the armored car she was belted to were still just pieces of metal with very little in the sense of comfort, so her ass was already sore from each bump they drove over.

Her eyes flicked across to the fully armored PRT trooper in front of her. Sophia swore she'd seen the guy around the headquarters before, but to be honest all of the faces of the regular troopers just blended together for her, especially with that pseudo stormtrooper look they were going for. If the trooper was discomforted by the ride at all, he didn't show it. He just sat there motionless, his con-foam launcher not raised, but ready to be at a moment's notice. Fucking robot. Not like Sophia could even use her powers with these electrified shackles around her wrist, so what was the point of putting that guard dog there?

The truck hit another bump, this one must've been larger because it actually sent Sophia off her seat a few inches, not unlike a student sitting in the back of a school bus when it hits a pothole. Sophia landed hard in her metal seat, sending a small wave of pain that started at her butt and radiated through the rest of her body.

This time, she did curse at the driver. "Hey fuckhead! Watch where you're driving!"

Unsurprisingly, the driver did not respond. Sophia scoffed and looked at her guard, ready for whatever bullshit admonishment he'd give her. But there wasn't one. Instead, the guard had two fingers to his ear, no doubt talking to someone over his radio. A stance that Sophia took many times when she communicated to the console as a Ward.

Within a second, Sophia's mind shifted to fight or flight, ready for violence. And she was lucky she was, because not even a moment after, something slammed into the side of the armored car. Something big. Sophia screamed as she felt the armored car get taken off its wheels and thrown onto its side. The only reason Sophia didn't brain herself on the inside of the cab was that she was still buckled in with a safety harness that went over both her shoulders.

She couldn't say the same for the guard across from her.

The man, wearing his full armor and containment foam launcher on his back, decided to not use a seatbelt so he could sit with his weapon at the ready. Unfortunately for him, he was now bouncing across the truck's interior, ragdolling around as he slammed into every possible face of the truck's rear.

SMACK!

Sophia's head snapped back and hit the back of her seat as the guard slammed into her as the truck continued to roll. Sophia couldn't count how my times the truck flipped over and over and over, until it eventually settled on its left side. The right side of the truck where Sophia sat was now the ceiling, leaving Sophia dangling from her harness, half cognisant of where she was.

The sound of a heavy THUD against metal snapped her out of her stupor. She was in combat now, and couldn't spend anymore time lazing about. A second THUD on the rear door of the APC sent a flood of adrenaline through Sophia's system. She saw the imprint of a fist from the last impact on the door.

Sophia twisted in the seat, trying to pull herself free before whatever was trying to break in accomplished its goal. She glanced at the PRT trooper who was in the cabin with her. He didn't look outwardly injured, his armor no doubt protecting him from the worst of the blunt trauma, but he was dazed as he stumbled up to his feet, hand clutching the side of his armored head.

"Hey asshole!" Sophia shouted at him, drawing his attention. "Let me out of these cuffs before whoever that is breaks through!"

The sound of another fist hitting the rear door of the APC drew both of their eyes. This time, there was a high pitched screech as the metal around one the hinges split in half.

"Hurry!" Sophia pleaded with the trooper.

The trooper looked at her, contemplating what to do behind his faceless visor. And to Sophia's horror, he turned away from her and instead chose to level his containment foam launcher at whatever was about to open the armored truck.

Sophia was about to unleash a tirade of curses at the trooper when a final impact hit the truck's rear entrance, knocking the doors off their hinges and exposing the two of them to the outside world. What was on the other side of the door was nothing less than an actual monster.

It looked like some kind of gargoyle, at least 8 feet tall of rippling muscles, four wings, and a monstrous, bat-like face. Sophia wondered what the Hell she was looking at. Some kind of biotinkered monstrosity? Or maybe a Changer or even a Case-53.

The trooper didn't seem to take as much time to question what was attacking them as Sophia did as he immediately aimed his containment foam launcher at the monster. However, when the trooper pulled the trigger, nothing came out. He looked down at his weapon, and saw that in place of the containment foam launcher, he was holding a mailbox.

"What?" Was all the trooper had time to say before the gargoyle opened its mouth and filled the truck with some sort of black smoke.

Almost immediately Sophia and the trooper began coughing violently. Choking back tears as snot and spit came out of her mouth, Sophia began to feel consciousness leave her as the gas filled her lungs. Sophia fought. She fought tooth and nail and she tried to force herself awake. She even called upon her powers, the threat of suffocation overriding her fear of the shackles as she transformed into her shadow state. She received 50,000 volts for her efforts.

The electricity forced Sophia back to her normal form, and knocked any fight still within her completely out of her body. With one last, sputtering breath, the last sight Sophia saw as consciousness left her body was two capes entering the truck, the first a tall man wearing a black suit and top hat, and the second, a girl in black body armor emblazoned with a red sun.


Coil sat at his desk, waiting for the Travelers to return with his latest acquisition. On his computer monitor, he watched as the van carrying the team of vagabond villains pulled into his underground complex. The mission had gone swimmingly. The Protectorate didn't assign a hero to Shadow Stalker/Sophia Hess' transport because they didn't think that any villain would try and break her out given the fact that no one should've known a cape was on that truck to begin with.

Coil's kidnapping of Sophia would most likely key the PRT into the fact that they had an intelligence leak within their operations, and the PRT may even be able to find a few of his moles. But unless they suspected his civilian identity, which Coil took an extraordinary amount of precautions against, Coil's main source of intelligence, himself, should be safe.

Despite that, Coil still did not drop his "safe" timeline, where he didn't send out the Travelers, yet. He wouldn't until Sophia Hess was completely secured and sedated within his complex and he was absolutely sure the Travelers were not followed.

Coil continued to watch his screen as the Travelers moved from the van to the garage elevator with the unconscious Sophia in tow, who was currently held by Genesis' gargoyle form.

The team entered the elevator and stood awkwardly, unknowingly watched by Coil as they descended into his lair.

"This was a terrible idea," Sundancer finally said after a few seconds of silence.

"A little late for regrets now, Mars," Trickster snapped at her, scolding but not overly harsh. "This is our best shot at helping Noelle, so be quiet and let me handle this Coil."

"She has a point, Krouse." Ballistic said in a hushed tone. "We've gotten this far by staying under the radar. Busting PRT prisoners isn't exactly my idea of staying under the radar."

"And your talking isn't exactly my idea of being quiet," Trickster said, this time harsher. "Accord said this guy can help us, and this is our first job here in the city. The PRT may not know it was us who hit their convoy yet."

The rest of the Travelers grumbled in discontent, but didn't vocalize their unease anymore. Coil nodded, happy that the team of mercenary Capes was still unified under their leader Trickster. And so long as Coil continued to dangle potential help for his partner Noelle, he would have the Travelers loyalty.

While Coil would've preferred to bring in the Travelers when he had a more concrete way to treat the monstrous woman, but at the very least he had the resources to keep her contained until he could find a way to help. But with the lightning bolt that was the Tech-Priest appearing in the Bay, who was so rapidly establishing herself as a power, Coil needed more muscle. In his opinion, the Undersiders, combined with his other freelance Capes, and mercenaries could potentially be enough to browbeat Tinker, but it would be a slogging, violent fight that would leave his organization crippled.

Maybe he could hire Faultline, but that would be difficult as they preferred not to work within Brockton Bay itself. He could give them some tips about the Vials, but would prefer not to draw Cauldron's attention, nor the attention of their boogeyman.

Regardless, Coil needed heavy hitters if he wanted to fight against Tech-Priest. But should Coil get his way, he wouldn't even have to fight against young Taylor. Coil had spent a significant amount of time ensuring that Tech-Priest would have as limited financial support as she possibly could.

It was a simple task for the owner of Fortress Construction Thomas Calvert to put pressure on the city to reject Tech-Priest's bid to repair the ferry. And as a former PRT Consultant and Strike Commander, it was similarly easy for him to push against the adoption of Tech-Priest's cybernetics and other Tinkertech ideas into the local PRT and Protectorate. Although even without him, the exorbitant costs of cyberizing injured troopers with Tinkertech combined with Emily's fargone bias against those with powers, the PRT would've never even considered accepting such a deal.

But attacking Tech-Priest's money was only the first step. Coil had no doubt that Tech-Priest had the capabilities of finding funding elsewhere given enough time. There was always the chance that she would gain enough of a reputation that the rich and wealthy would actually come to her for enhancements, getting new knees or spine supports so they could ditch the canes and play golf again.

Not to mention that organizations such as Toybox or perhaps even the Elite, who would no doubt enjoy expanding into Brockton Bay and gaining a powerful Tinker such as Tech-Priest, would be more than happy to throw money at the girl should she come onto their radar. And Coil would not allow that to happen.

Having Trainwreck leak the information about Tech-Priest to the Merchants was a risky play, but one that was paying dividends. Just a few hours ago, Commander Thomas Calvert received a notice that the Merchants attacked Tech-Priest's base, the Manufactorum, as she called it. Tech-Priest seemingly repelled the attack, but suffered somewhat grievous injuries in the process. That was good. The young girl should now be realizing how vulnerable she was, even with her squad of Tinkertech equipped Veterans protecting her.

Not to mention the Merchant's attack on the Manufactorum this night had provided an excellent distraction for the Travelers, as the Protectorate's heroes were too busy responding to that be of any help to the attacked prisoner transport.

And a final, additional victory was earned with the fact that that Trainwreck was now back in active Coil's employ, rather than a spy. Coil could keep the boy as a bodyguard and enforcer at his base, but perhaps he might assign him to the Undersiders. He wouldn't play well with the Undersider's focus on mobility, but they did need some heavier hitters. Something to consider later.

Regardless, with this attack Tech-Priest will realize she will need not just funding, but allies as well. Ones who will be willing to step in and help protect her from the threats within the city. And Coil would be more than happy to fulfill both of her needs.

Coil smiled as the Travelers now made their way to his office with their prisoner in tow. Things were all going according to plan, and Sophia Hess still had a part to play in his plan as well.


Interlude 2, Parian

Monday, February 21st…

Today was a normal workday for Sabah. She had a few customers, some students from Arcadia who wanted a dress for an upcoming dance, and a rich socialite who needed a dress for the opening of some new art exhibit at the Forsberg Gallery. While only a handful of clients wouldn't be much for most other businesses, with how much Sabah charged per dress with her powers, that was more than enough for her to say today was a good day.

Glancing at the clock, Sabah saw it was about 4:30 pm, and she was the only one still in the store. With the amount of profit they were going to make, Sabah decided to send her employees home and go close early. She already turned the store sign to, "Closed," and just needed to finish up her sketch on the designs for one of her dresses before she was going to lock up, go up stairs, and hopefully finish some homework for her Parahuman Study course.

A ringing of the bell hanging above the door signaled its opening. From behind the store counter, Sabah sighed.

"I'm sorry, the Dollhouse is closed," Sabah called out. She couldn't see the entrance directly from her seat as some racks of fabric and mannequins blocked the way.

Whoever entered the store didn't seem to pay Sabah's words mind as she didn't hear the door reopen, and instead she heard heavy footsteps approaching the counter. Her eyes narrowing behind her mask, Sabah subtly reached for her powers, grabbing more than a few needles and rolls of fabric behind the counter. She kept them low, as she didn't know if this was an attack or just an overzealous customer. Which, she supposed, was a kind of attack of its own. Soon enough, the offending intruder walked around one of the racks of fabric and revealed themselves. And Sabah almost screamed then and there.

It was a Cape, obviously, judging by the fact she wore some kind of gas mask that covered the lower half of her face. Her left eye had some kind of lens over it, and her long, curly black hair flowed out of a red hood she wore atop her head. The hood descended down her body in the shape of a simple robe, covering up what looked like power armor. Obviously some kind of Tinker.

"Hello there," Sabah said, trying very hard to keep her voice steady as she grabbed onto more needles. She was praying that this Cape was a customer and not there to cause trouble.

The Cape regarded her for a moment, before slightly bowing her head. "Greetings. You are Parian, I presume?" The Cape's voice was a strange synthesized one overlaid by static. Sabah nodded, so the Cape continued. "I am Tech-Priest, a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Tech-Priest held out her right hand to shake.

Sabah didn't move to shake it. "Hello Tech-Priest. Yes, I am Parian. Forgive my rudeness, but what are you doing here? I said, the store is closed. If you want to do business, please come during our operating hours."

Tech-Priest put her hand down. If she was insulted by Sabah not shaking it, or her less-than-cordial introduction, Tech-Priest didn't show it. "Yes, my apologies. This was the only time I could come, and your website said you would be open at these hours. I promise I come with no ill intentions." Tech-Priest, then raised both hands into the air in a gesture of peaceful surrender.

Sabah looked the Cape up and down. She saw no obvious weapons on her, but when dealing with Capes that was a next to pointless observation to make. But besides that… Sabah felt like this Tech-Priest was telling the truth. She seemed rather earnest with her intentions, if a bit graceless with her introduction.

"Yes well, normally you would be correct, but I decided to close up shop early tonight," Sabah said as she relaxed her grip on her needles. "Regardless, you are here now, so how can I assist you today?" Might as well see what the weirdo Cape wanted.

"Thank you for your understanding." Tech-Priest bowed her head slightly. She then grabbed the side of her robe and pulled on them slightly, lifting up the hem. "And I am here because I desire improvements to my costume, amongst other things. I made this costume out of what I had on hand, and it worked for a while, but now I would like something more… respectable."

As she said this, Tech-Priest then disrobed, pulling the robes off her body. Parian wasn't too nonplussed by the action however, as Tech-Priest still had her power armor below the fabric and was about as far from naked as possible. Tech-Priest then handed the bundle of cloth to Sabah.

Sabah moved to grab the fabric and turned it over in her hands. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was holding. "Is… is this a Christmas blanket?"

Flipping the inside of the robe out, Sabah saw the words, "Have A Happy Ho, Ho, Holidays!" embroidered into the fabric.

"Indeed it is." Tech-Priest nodded, completely unembarrassed by the origins of her costume. "It served my purpose thus far, but as I said, now that I am trying to become a more respectable figure within the Cape community, I thought that I should get a costume to reflect that."

Sabah stared blankly at the Christmas-blanket turned superhero costume for a few more seconds before she simply nodded her head and said, "Right, okay. Well, to be honest, this probably has to be one of the worst homemade costumes I've ever seen."

Tech-Priest didn't seem to take offense to her comment as she snorted. "Unfortunately, my powers did not give me an inherent sense of fashion knowledge."

Allowing herself a small chuckle as well, Sabah brought a hand to her chin to focus as her powers summoned a new sketchpad to her. "Right so, do you have any ideas of what you want your new costume to be?"

Tech-Priest nodded as she then reached into her armor and produced a sheet of paper. To Sabah's surprise, it was a highly detailed picture of Tech-Priest's desired costume, expertly drawn as if sketched by a master designer. Sabah's mouth dropped behind her mask as she stared at the artistic masterpiece in front of her.

The general idea of the robe stayed the same, a simple, full body covering, but rather than being plain red, it had a bone-white trimming with a gear-teeth motif along the edges. The fabric split at the sides of the legs, shifting more into the design of a medieval surcoat. And rather than the simple hood that connected to the top of the tunic, it was redesigned to a large coif that draped over Tech-Priests shoulders. It was a good start, and an extremely good sketch. But Sabah did see some parts which she thought she could improve on, areas where the designs on cloth were too gauche, or could be pulled back to be more utilitarian. Parian definitely saw doubling down on the techno-Gothic theme would look good on Tech-Priest though.

"I thought you said your powers didn't teach you fashion design," Sabah muttered out.

If Tech-Priest took note of Sabah's shock, she didn't make any outward reaction as she said, "They did not. But it is not a difficult task to set my prosthetics or even my servo arm to an automated task of creating a preprogrammed sketch. Not unlike a printer. But that is irrelevant. This is just the first design I came up with before coming here."

Sabah decided to skip over the Tinkertalk that Tech-Priest didn't seem keen on explaining and instead jumped to the second half of the sentence.. "First design?"

Tech-Priest nodded. "This is only my costume. I have… another Cape who has recently joined my organization that will require a costume as well, and I also wish to bulk order simpler robes to put on my… combat drones."

At these words, Sabah looked up from the sketch. "You want to dress up your robots in robes?" Sabah honestly found the idea kind of cute.

Tech-Priest huffed as she crossed her arms. "For someone whose store is literally called the Dollhouse, you have little room to talk."

Sabah put both hands up in placation. "Sorry, I was not trying to be rude. If anything, I think dressing up any robots you make would be a good idea. The right clothing would make anything you make seem less…" Terrifying, she thought was an apt descriptor for Tech-Priest's design sense. "Intimidating," was the word she said out loud, however.

"Or more." Tech-Priest mumbled out. She then nodded her head and lowered her arms, relaxing her pose. "Regardless, shall we get started going over the other designs then, I wish to buy in bulk as quickly as I can."

"How many costumes will you need?" Sabah asked while mentally calculating how many robes she could make a night.

"I would like five by the end of tomorrow night," Tech-Priest said with no inflection on her voice. "But in total I would like thirty."

Sabah froze at that. "And you'll pay up front."

Tech-Priest paused and stared at Sabah for a bit, probably doing calculations in her robo-brain or something. After a few moments, Tech-Priest nodded. "For the five. The rest however, I will pay upon their completion."

"Hmm." Sabah thought for a moment. "Half up front and half upon completion." It didn't miss Sabah that Tech-Priest didn't even ask how much the costumes would be. The Tinker must've been pretty rich.

Tech-Priest paused for a moment, before she nodded. "That is agreeable."

"Very good. Alright then, let's get started," Sabah said as she pulled out a sketchbook to start spitballing ideas for multiple different costume ideas alongside the strange Tinker. Sabah was thinking red trench coats for the robots.


Interlude 3, Rachel

Tuesday, March 1st…

Walking her dogs was one of the few pleasures Rachel Lindt still had in the city. Staying in the loft all day was an impossible task, given the fact that Alec and Lisa pretty much both lived there full time. If it wasn't for Brian she'd have sicced Brutus on both of them months ago. Meanwhile, going out into the city was difficult since her identity was known to the outside world, and it wouldn't be hard for the cops or PRT to recognize her.

There were few places outside where she could go in the city without being potentially seen, namely the shelter she kept her other dogs at that was paid for by their team's boss, whoever the fuck that was. Otherwise she was relegated to evening and night time walks around their lair. It was all annoying bullshit, like her team kept in a cage as if she was a rabid or untrained animal. That pissed her off even more. She knew exactly what an untrained dog was, and she wasn't it.

A small tug on the leash drew her attention outward. Rachel was currently walking all three of her dogs, Judas, Brutus, and Angelica. And when she looked down, Rachel saw that Angelica, her terrier and least well behaved dog, seemed to have smelled something that interested her and she began to pull away from Rachel. Rachel let out a small, angry growl. It wasn't aggressive, but warning, not unlike the growl a mother dog would use on a disobedient puppy.

Her point was made to Angelica quickly, and the small terrier quietly fell in line with the others. Rachel nodded, and saying a low, "Good girl," as she then scratched Angelica behind the ears. That was the proper way to train dogs, warnings when they did something wrong, and positive reinforcement when they did what you wanted. Simple and easy. Far easier to deal with than people.

Rachel then looked up to see what was drawing so much of her dog's attention. About a block in front of her, Rachel saw a Cape. Rachel didn't recognize who it was, but the person was wearing a long, blood red robe over a set of armor, had flowing black hair, and wore what looked like a gasmask. The Cape seemed to be looking at a derelict warehouse up and down, inspecting it from the outside.

Almost immediately, Rachel was on guard. She was only a few blocks away from the loft. And she hadn't seen this cape around before, but she had heard a few more Cape fights in the Docks where they lived in recent days. She remembered hearing Brian and Lisa talking about it. Something about Merchants, and maybe a church? Or at least something about a priest. Bitch couldn't remember. Was this Cape one of those who were involved with the fighting?

As Rachel was sizing up the Cape, the mystery Cape seemed to become aware of her presence, and turned to Rachel in turn. The Cape stared back at Rachel for a few moments, and Rachel got the sense she was challenging her. She might've even known who she was. Rachel was about to call on her powers and sicc her dogs on the Cape, when the Cape did something that made Rachel pause.

The Cape waved at her. She waved at Rachel, before she called out in her strange, robotic voice, "Greetings! Tell me, are you a local of this area?"

Rachel stared at the Cape for a bit in a combination of annoyance and wariness. She wanted to talk. People always wanted to talk and that just pissed Rachel off to no end. But at the same time, she knew that she shouldn't just ignore a new Cape in front of her. Brian and Lisa would never let her hear the end of it. Better to suffer this pain in the ass now than that pain in the ass later.

Walking up to the strange Cape, Rachel said, "Yeah? I am. What's it matter to you?" Rachel kept her chest up and maintained eye contact with the Cape, not wanting to appear subservient.

The Cape didn't seem to take notice of Rachel's aggressive stance. "Wonderful! You may call me Tech-Priest. Tell me, do you know who owns this property? I've been trying to ascertain its proprietor, but for some reason, the records online are rather… elusive."

Rachel glared at this Tech-Priest. The fucking bitch liked using long fucking words, didn't she? But she got the jist of what she was asking. Who owned the building? Rachel turned her head to look at the structure in question. It looked like a derelict warehouse or factory building, not unlike their own lair. There were some faded words on the side. Jo- John-Sons ah- ahnd Sons, puh, Pay-Purrr, Fak-Too-Ree, she slowly read out in her mind, struggling to put the sounds to the letters she recognized.

She shook her head. "No idea," she groused. "I've walked my dogs around here plenty of times, but I've never seen anyone come in and out."

Tech-Priest didn't immediately respond, instead just humming to herself as she looked at the building thoughtfully. Rachel wasn't sure if the conversation was over, but Rachel decided she had enough as she began walking past the Cape to continue her walk.

"You have quite beautiful dogs," Tech-Priest said, interrupting Rachel before she could leave.

Rachel groaned, annoyed. "Yeah, I know."

"This one appears to be quite wounded however." Tech-Priest pointed at Angelica. The terrier was missing an eye and an ear from her previous owner.

That brought a growl out of Rachel's throat. She stepped into Tech-Priest's personal space. The Cape was taller than Rachel, but Rachel got beneath Tech-Priest's face, daring her to look her in the eyes. "The fuck is that supposed to mean? You think I abuse my dogs or some shit?"

Tech-Priest shifted her gaze from Angelica to Rachel, and did not flinch in the slightest when she met her gaze and stared back. "Abuse?" Tech-Priest genuinely seemed taken aback. "No, I mean to imply the very opposite, in fact." Rachel paused, now confused, and when she tilted her head to the side to show that confusion, Tech-Priest continued.

"Your dogs are remarkably well behaved, a sign of a good and skilled owner. A rudimentary scan with my auspex shows that all three of your dogs are in the pinnacle of health currently, which means you care for their well being. The injuries on your terrier are scarred over, showing they are quite old. A rescue?"

Rachel paused, taking in Taylor's words. Then she nodded. "Yeah. Got her about four months ago."

Tech-Priest nodded in turn. "Hmm, and so well-behaved for such a short time. May I pet her?"

Rachel's eyes flicked back down to Angelica. Angelica didn't seem to be scared of Tech-Priest, and Rachel could tell she wanted to go and sniff Tech-Priest. "Angelica's not aggressive anymore, so it should be fine. Just don't hurt her with your suit or I'll hurt you."

Her eyes flicking over to her fingers, Tech-Priest raised her hand up a bit and looked at it, before she assented. "Noted." Tech-Priest's left hand then moved to her right wrist, and after fiddling with some controls, Rachel saw her take off her gauntlet, revealing a pale, wrinkled hand beneath.

Tech-Priest bent down and began giving Angelica scratches behind the ear. Angelica's leg patted up and down excitedly.

"You know…" Tech-Priest began as she continued petting. "I could repair her eye and ear."

Rachel's eyes went a bit wide at that. "Repair? You mean make her part robot, like you?"

Tech-Priest nodded. "Indeed. My cybernetics are not limited to human biology, and besides canine physiology isn't too far removed from humans anyway. It would be easy to give her a new eye. I could make a new ear as well, but as far as I can tell her ear canal is still intact. It would mostly just be cosmetic." Tech-Priest shrugged.

Thinking about it for a few seconds, Rachel quickly decided to shake her head. "No thanks." She had no idea how Tinker made parts would interact with Angelica when she used her powers on the dog. They would probably just get destroyed as she changed form. "Why do you even care?"

At her words, Tech-Priest stopped petting Angelica and chose to stand. "Why indeed? I suppose it's because I may be purchasing this land soon, and I just wanted to be neighborly. I also just happen to like dogs." Tech-Priest then replaced her glove back on her hand, sealing her suit with a pressurized hiss and spinning of servos.

Rachel narrowed her eyes at Tech-Priest, trying to suss out if she was lying. She wasn't Lisa, but Rachel usually had a good sense of someone's emotions when she talked with them. If they were angry or sad or scared or nervous. That last one usually meant they were lying to her. Tech-Priest also talked a lot and used big words, which in Rachel's experience was also a hallmark of a liar. But she sensed no deception in Tech-Priest. She didn't seem all that tricky, even though she was a Tinker. Just… weird. Weirder than any of her team, that was for sure. She was probably as weird as Rachel was.

"Well no thanks." Rachel said as she began moving forward. "I need to finish their walk now."

"Yes my apologies for taking your time Miss…" Tech-Priest drawled out as her eyes followed Rachel's back. "I'm sorry, but I didn't get your name."

Rachel paused. Hmm, what should she say here? She was sure Brian or Lisa would come up with some kind of clever word play or lie to get out of the conversation without giving anything away. Though even the thought of trying to do something like that annoyed Rachel. Did she even need to lie? Tech-Priest didn't seem to recognize her, either as Rachel Lindt or Bitch. To her, she was just someone who was walking their dogs in a shitty part of town.

Fuck it, what harm could it do? "Rachel," she said before continuing down the street.

She heard Tech-Priest hum behind her. "Well, I shall be seeing you, Rachel. If you ever change your mind, stop by my Manufactorum. It would be a fun project to make something akin to a cyber-mastiff, or a cyberwolf even."

Rachel shook her head and kept walking. Weird fucking Cape.


A/N, 10/10/22: Oof that was a big break wasn't it? Went on vacation for a bit, then got busy with a lot of life stuff, but here's the promised interludes chapter! Thanks to everyone for their patience and support! Things are moving forward as we take a small look into what some of the other characters are going through. Coil is Coil-ing, and I wrote that Parian interlude mostly because I really liked the Ho-ho-holidays line. Anyway, thanks again, and I'll see you all in the next one.