This wasn't how she'd seen her evening going. She was meant to be watching a movie with Dean, dragging her sister along for a double date, not on another patrol. It wasn't even meant to be her night. She'd traded with Crystal, again, after another stupid fight with Dean, again.
Her fists clenched as her side, cape and golden hair floating around her in the breeze. That was always the story. It felt like every other month something completely irrelevant blew up their relationship. In the cold night air over the Bay, alone and in the privacy of her mind, Victoria Dallon could admit to herself that it was often (not always!) her fault. It didn't make her feel any better though. She knew she was… hotheaded. She'd heard it enough from her mum and sister and boyfriend and-
Yeah, she knew. As if anyone would ever let her forget and just be herself. Sometimes it was like her civilian clothes were the costume and Victoria Dallon was her alter ego. 'Don't fly everywhere Victoria', 'Don't punch people through walls Victoria', it just went on and on. Out here though, spiked tiara in hair and finally covered in the blazing white of Glory Girl's costume she felt alive and more like herself than she had the entire day.
Okay, maybe she was being a little melodramatic.
In front of her, a store's alarm blared out into the night. It was a tech store, the kind of place that sold all sorts of odds and ends, somewhere that she could see Eric going for the latest console or game. Its front had collapsed inwards, like something heavy had been rammed into it, advertisements aimed at students ripped in half and scattered across the ground.
All the lights were off inside the store, other than the dimly flashing alarm light there wasn't anything to illuminate the inside. Even without that Victoria thought that she'd be able to see a car if one had been driven inside, that and the car alarm would be going too.
That was if the shutters that all these stores had for when they closed weren't also down. They weren't tinkertech but they were still a damn strong barricade that most cars would have trouble going through that cleanly unless they'd somehow managed to take the corner at full speed. It was standard procedure for the stores around here, far enough away from the docks and the rundown areas of the city that they could afford something like that, and a good enough target that they needed them. No, a car hadn't been used to do this unless it was tinkertech itself and it really didn't fit Squealer's MO. There'd be a lot more swearing for one.
A moment later, any questions about what the criminals had used to get inside dropped from her mind as a tinkling sound wafted out of the building. Someone was walking over broken glass in calm, slow steps. One foot stepped through the hole, followed by the other.
The man that stepped out was huge, almost as tall as Victoria was even though she was hovering at least a foot off the ground. His shoulders were broad, and just looking at him left her with the impression of someone with an impressive amount of raw physical strength. Of course, looks could be deceiving. Victoria herself was, while tall for her age, not exactly someone that looked like they could bench press a car or tank a gunshot.
What stood out the most though was his mask. Warped metal wrapped around his head in what could possibly be a twisted parody of a knight's helmet. She couldn't help but compare it to Gallant's, where his was sleek and professionally made with little lights built inside to emphasize all the right angles, the criminal's looked like it had been ripped out of some rusted building or warehouse. You could even see the indents shaped like fingermarks for heaven's sake!
He was a Cape, he had to be. No-one wore a mask or helmet like that if they weren't a parahuman, not nowadays and definitely not in Brockton Bay. Victoria eyed the marks in the metal. More importantly, she thought to herself, he had to be a Brute. Her fists clenched again, hard enough that the whites of her knuckles shone through. That was good.
But if he was a Cape where was the rest of his costume? Apart from the strange helmet, everything he wore was something that she'd see people out and about in every day. Worn down trainers that looked about a second away from falling apart and almost as bad jeans. Even his top, a dark T-shirt with a reference to some obscure rock band printed across the front, showed signs of wear and tear. Holes poked through at the seams and a few threads dangled from them. It didn't do anything to protect details like his race, pale arms covered in more muscles than she knew the name of in clear view under the dim street lights.
"You're bold I'll give you that. We're, what, a few minutes from PRT headquarters? You really think you'll get away with it?"
The man paused, as if he only just realised that she was there. Now that was just rude.
"Oh, it's you. I was wondering how long it'd take me to run into someone. First time out though, huh?"
He didn't even respond to her! The man's voice was higher than she expected, he sounded more like a teenager than the adult he looked like.
"Hey, I'm talking to you here! Who are you even meant to be?"
She cocked her hand on her hip. Maybe he was just an idiot. Whatever, it didn't matter in the end. He was clearly a criminal, and what was it Heroes did to criminals? Again, she felt her fingers curl into a fist. This time though she let them stay like that.
"It's not like talking is what you want to do right?" He asked calmly, not looking even slightly worried by being confronted with one of, in her humble opinion, one of the heaviest hitters in the city.
"And what does that mean?" She asked with narrowed eyes. What was it with these guys and mouthing off to her?
Just the other day there'd been that E88 skinhead who had the genius idea of badmouthing her entire family to her face. No matter how much Amy got on her case for it, she couldn't feel bad about having to call her up to put him back together again.
The man just shrugged, hefting something in his hands. It was only then that she noticed he'd carried something out of the store with him. A games console, she recognised it from Eric's room and how he wouldn't shut up to anyone that would listen about how great it was, new and expensive.
"As for my name…" He continued like she hadn't said anything, "I didn't bother with one. The PRT will just make one for me right?"
Well he wasn't wrong, but he had to be the laziest Villain she'd ever heard of. Even Über and Leet put a lot of effort into their costume and theme, and those two were practically a joke. She deliberately ignored the times those two had gotten the best of her, somehow.
"You're just itching for a fight, it's obvious," Victoria couldn't see his eyes through the 'visor', it was really more like two holes poked out around eye height, but she could practically feel his deadpan stare, "Not interested. Go bother someone else to get your adrenaline fix."
'Not interested'? 'Not interested'?!
"You're the one robbing a store here!" She yelled, jabbing a finger at him, "Don't think I'll let you get away with it."
He raised his free hand to scratch at his chin, only scraping away at the mask. The street filled with the screeching of tortured metal as his finger shaved off layers of rusted material. Little flakes of it fell to the ground around him but Victoria was more focused on his finger digging into the helmet like it was made of putty. She smirked. Definitely a Brute.
"What you think doesn't really matter though…" he trailed off, already turning away from her. Little piece of glass trailed off the top of his shoes and he stopped to kick them off gently. In that moment, while he was distracted, while he was ignoring her, Victoria threw herself forward fist first.
"You're not going anywhere!" She roared, fully expecting the Villain to go flying away the moment she came into contact then. See if he could ignore her when he was halfway through a wall. Or all the way, that would be better.
Instead her fist just stopped dead. What? She hadn't thrown that with all her strength, she'd learnt very quickly from all of Carol's rants that starting out at full strength when you didn't know your opponent's durability was a bad idea, but it wasn't insignificant. It would've at least sent a car skidding away, or put a significant hole in a wall, not unlike the one behind the Villain. Even his clothes hadn't been ruffled, it was like any power she'd put behind the strike had just disappeared.
His head swivelled down and around to look at her. For a second she thought she could make out two dark blue eyes staring through her behind the helmet. Like they didn't even see her, they were completely blank of any emotion. No anger at just being attacked, or more importantly pain, nothing.
"Wha-?"
Her question cut off when she was suddenly thrown into the sky. It was only a second later that she noted her fizzled out forcefield and the impact she faintly felt on her side. He'd hit her in the side, that much was clear but when had he moved? She frowned as she turned back to the street to see him walking away, unruffled and unhurried.
In a blur of motion, she jetted towards him again, putting herself passed him and in his way. The Villain didn't stop until he was only a few inches away from her. Hovering just above the ground as she was now, it really drove in how huge he was. She had to tilt her head up a long way just to glare into the eyeholes again.
"Hey! Just because you got one lucky hit in doesn't mean-"
Even when she was watching for it she didn't see it coming. Between one blink and the next she found herself back above the rooftops, forcefield fizzled out and another sensation of a phantom impact. Victoria's expression firmed. Fine, if he wanted to play tough then she could tussle. Nobody could blame her for going all out now. Ignoring the lingering stinging from the echoes of the blows that hadn't really hit her, it actually felt liberating.
Holding nothing back, she charged back in with her arm cocked back behind her. This was it. This was what she wanted. This feeling of holding nothing back, not having to worry about accidentally killing someone. Even as she was about to hit the unnamed Villain, she felt a truly happy laugh bubbling out of her throat. There were no thoughts clouding up her head, no worries about Dean and their argument or about dragging Amy out of her shell, nothing about her mum getting on her back. Just the waiting fight, the tunnel vision, the anticipation of closing in.
He didn't even try and dodge. Maybe he didn't realise how much harder, how much faster, she was going. This time he'd be the one that goes flying, he'd lose, Glory Girl would win and everything would be as it should be. She swung, blood singing in eager impatience. The world blurred and all she could see was the spot she was aiming for, the side of his jaw, and her fist rapidly approaching it.
It hit. He didn't budge an inch, behind him windows rattled just from the speed and force with which she'd hit him.
"No way," Victoria blurted out, voice trembling a lot more than she wanted to.
Finally, the man (teenager?) stopped. Her fist was still pressing limply against his face, even the skin of his cheek didn't bend at all from the pressure. The world fell away from under her feet, her knees shook and she fought just to stay upright.
"Is that it?" He asked, voice just the same as before, dry and uninterested, "It was stronger than the first sure but… I expected more. That's what I get for having high hopes I guess."
Victoria saw red, anger fuelled strength surging through her body and she swung viciously with her other arm. And then the first again. Again and again, over and over, she hit him with everything she had. The street filled with dull thuds as her fists hit his chest, stomach, face, anywhere she could reach. None of them did anything and by the end every breath left her throat in heaving pants.
"I hate to cut this short, but I'm in a hurry," his tone was as dry as desert, making it clear he didn't mean a word of it.
"For someone in a rush," Victoria huffed back, "you're not in any hurry to leave."
For the first time in the 'fight', and even in her own mind she could barely call it that, the Villain reacted. He paused, surprise colouring his body language. After a second he tilted his head curiously.
"You're not wrong," he barked out a laugh, the sudden emotion almost made her jump, "I guess I did want to properly test myself. I didn't expect you to pick up on it though, you never seemed the insightful type. Real people are different from characters huh?"
The last question was aimed at himself, clearly not expecting an answer from the young Hero. He still hadn't made moved, staring down at her like he was looking for something in particular. From where he stood, the street light lit up enough for her to see inside the helmet properly for the first time. His eyes weren't dark blue like she'd thought, or if they were they were so dark they might as well have been black. The lack of empathy was clear this time, like a shark in one of the many documentaries Amy had made her watch; Victoria was used to people staring at her in awe or, depending on her mood, terror.
With a start she realised she'd released any grip that she'd had on her aura at some point, and that the masked Villain hadn't reacted at all. It washed over him like a rock in a storm, she knew she was blasting it full power. He should've been cowering before her, or at least trembling or something.
"'Characters?' Also what the hell do you mean I'm not 'insightful'?!" The break had allowed her to get her breath back and the indignant anger had returned in force with it. How dare this no name Villain act like Glory Girl wasn't a big deal, just shrug off her best hits like they were nothing. Victoria ignored the tiny voice inside that whispered her relief that she'd finally found someone she didn't need to hold back against, she was bigger than that.
Again he ignored her, ploughing through her words just like he'd pushed through her strikes.
"We're done here," Whatever sick amusement he'd found had slipped away again, his voice returning to the droning near monotone.
"Done? We're just getting started punk!" She sputtered as she smacked her fists together and raised them back into a fighting stance, "I haven't even started the smack down."
Asshole, as she was beginning to think of him in her head, just let out a deep exhale; the first sound she'd heard from him other than when he was talking.
"I could just leave," her mind shot back to how she hadn't even seen a blur when he'd hit her as he rambled on to himself. Then again maybe he hadn't actually physically hit her, with a parahuman you never knew. He reached up and scratched below his chin again, scraping off even more of the metal. A nervous tick? "But that wouldn't send the message I want. I was hoping the first Cape I met would be a Villain though."
"Hey, what're you mumbling about?" She snapped out a jab, it clanged noisily against the helmet but it didn't crumple like she expected. Just like the rest of his clothes it didn't move at all from the impact.
"You're a 'Hero' so I'll give you fair warning, you can either let me leave and I'll find someone else to be my message. Or I'm going to hurt you, and you'll deliver it for me."
She fought down the shivers that shot through her at his words. It was ridiculous. She'd been threatened before, more times than she could count honestly but his didn't ring with the same malicious intent. Instead it felt more like a promise, just a statement of intent.
Besides, what kind of Hero would she be if she backs down when the bad guy threatens her? There was no way she'd let him go.
"Fat chance Asshole," Victoria spat, already warily watching his hands, "You haven't even scratched me yet."
Asshole cocked his head again, looking at her like she was the idiot.
"Yes, hitting you into the air meant you'd have time for your forcefield to recharge," he pointed out calmly, like what he was spouting was everyday knowledge and wasn't terrifying.
Ice flooded her veins as she froze, the silence in the street only broken by the faint wailing of the shop's alarm back down the street. There was no way he could know that, simply no way. New Wave had carefully managed everything to do with how she presented herself. To the public she was invincible, Alexandria Lite as she knew PHO sometimes called her, she ignored the other name they used more often.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she denied shakily, not even sounding convincing to herself.
Asshole just shrugged, not needing to say anything to convey just how little he believed her.
"You made your choice," he said in what would be an ominous tone if it wasn't so devoid of any emotion. That just made it worse.
Then he disappeared. There was barely even a blur as he surged across the few inches separating them, Victoria couldn't react as his form solidified for a split second. He'd raised one hand, bracing curled up index finger taut against his thumb. What?
He flicked her, the force impacting her like a gunshot. Her forcefield flickered out around her even as she wheeled backwards, trying to reach for anything that would help her. She blasted her aura, pushing it further than she ever had before, terror and then love, anything to get him away from her for just the second or two she needed to…
Fingers like steel wrapped around her wrist and arrested her movement. The momentum carried the rest of her body away until her arm was pulled straight. She'd barely blinked before he'd moved again. The grip on her wrist stayed while he twisted into a brutal uppercut from below, the hand empty and the games console having somehow disappeared at some point. Victoria's eyes widened when she realised what was coming.
"No, no wait-!" Her pleading devolved into a bloodcurdling scream of pain as his closed fist blasted into the underside of her forcefully extended arm.
It didn't even give a token resistance before it buckled and shattered around the invading hand. He let go immediately afterwards, allowing her to stagger backwards and collapse sideways onto her ass in the street. In the dingy light of the street she could see, feel, the bone poking through the long sleeves of her costume, bright white slowly staining crimson. She screamed and screamed, staring in disbelief at the broken limb.
"Guess she's not used to being hurt anymore huh?"
Victoria didn't react to his voice, though she could dimly hear it over her own cries of pain. Eventually they descended into hoarse sobs and whimpers while she just cradled her arm at the wrist, careful not to jostle it.
"Oi," he said but she wouldn't listen. Vaguely, like it was in the distance, she heard another sigh. Something, a hand, slapped against her forcefield over her face. Not enough to bring it down but enough to get her attention as she glared murderously up at Asshole and god did the name fit. He'd crouched down, putting her eyes at the same level as the eyeholes in his helmet, shark eyes staring through her again, "Tell all your little dress up buddies to stay out of my way, there's no need for them to get hurt," he paused briefly, "Well, not all of them."
"You won't get away with this," Victoria bit out through gritted teeth, wanting nothing more than to shove Asshole's jaw through the back of his mouth. She wasn't stupid though, she was in no state to fight him now and he'd shown what he could do, "We'll get you and I'll personally dump your ass in the Birdcage."
For a second amusement flashed across the little she could see of his face beneath the helmet before it returned to the dull emptiness.
"The Birdcage? That could be interesting," he mused to himself before looking around, "but not today Victoria. I thought the police were meant to respond faster around here? Oh well, I'll get their act in gear. My message won't get across if nobody knows about it and I know you'd like nothing more than to run off to your sister and have her fix all your problems for you. Again."
Asshole paused to pull out an expensive looking phone from the pocket of his jeans. It was still plastered with a '50% OFF!' sticker on the back, he didn't bother tearing it off just turning it on and flicking through menus. What felt like minutes to her as pain burnt through her arm passed until he raised the phone to his ear.
"Is this the PRT?" Victoria could vaguely hear someone talking on the other end of the line, voice squeaky and tinny in the distance, "Great. I've got Glory Girl here; she's injured and needs some help. Yes of course I'm sure, I'm the one who did it to her after all," she blinked in shock, a reaction that she was fairly sure was shared by whoever was answering the call as their voice trailed off before coming back in a rush, "No I'm not holding her hostage, no I'm not going to kill her. I'm about to leave actually. Calm down, I'm sure Panacea will gladly heal her beloved sister. This has gone on long enough to track where we are right?"
Whoever was working at the helpline yelled something, though it was still too quiet for Victoria to make out. Some part of her mind, the part that wasn't screaming in pain, idly wondered if Asshole was right and they were just trying to delay the call for longer.
"What is it with people and names tonight," he blew out another deep breath, "I suppose you can call me Tyrant, for all that it matters."
The hand holding the phone curled into a fist, crushing it as easily as a normal person would paper. He dropped the pieces on the asphalt, clattering like drums in her ears making her flinch. Self-loathing washing instantly washed through her for showing even more weakness in front of the Villain.
Abruptly, Asshole no, Tyrant stood and turned away from her. Approaching the sidewalk, Victoria saw the console that he'd originally tried to get away with undamaged and placed on the ground. If she had to guess it would've been about where he'd, where he'd… her gaze fell back to her arm before turning away, feeling queasy just looking at it. There was no way, had he put it down before he attacked her? Without her noticing?!
That didn't bear thinking about, with that kind of speed he'd just been playing with her the entire time. She shivered, setting off more racking agony from her arm. For the first time since she'd triggered, Victoria Dallon felt small and insignificant. Sure she'd lost before, or had to retreat; there were some threats in Brockton Bay you simply didn't tangle with unless you were certain you could win. This was just meant to be some mook, an easy way to blow off steam. Even when she'd realised he was a Cape she'd thought he was just some new trigger, quickly taken care of.
No, what she'd found was something else. A monster. How had he even known about her force field? And now the PRT would get to her before her family could, before Amy could fix everything.
"Goodbye Glory Girl," Tyrant's voice broke Victoria from her musings, "All this because I wanted to play some games…"
A moment later he blasted off the asphalt, it was only another moment after that that the crack of what sounded like a gunshot broke the relative quiet of the street. The shutters of the other shops around her rattled in place from the force, a violent breeze blowing over her.
Victoria stared at where the Villain had just been a moment ago, before dropping her head back to bang against the ground, the pain trivial compared to her arm. In the distance she could hear the rapidly approaching noise of a powerful engine, one that anyone in Brockton Bay would always recognise.
Quickly, or as quickly as she could without moving the shattered limb, she sat up and awkwardly tugged her phone out of the secure pocket she kept it in while in costume. It was just a burner phone, she'd lost one too many expensive personal ones in fights before she thought better of it, but it had all the important numbers pre-entered into the speed dial.
She barely had to wait for a single ring tone to go off before her number one emergency contact picked up.
"Hey Ames," Victoria warbled, "I think I really fucked up."
A/N: So, first chapter of the Alexandria Package from CYOA v1 done. It was a bit rushed because I wanted to get it done today, so there might be some editing later one.
First things first, I got explicit permission from Arafell (the writer of the excellent 'Tyrant of the Bay') to use Tyrant as both the Cape name and title of the fic because I thought it strayed a bit too close for comfort without saying something to him about it.
Secondly, as you've probably noticed I'm writing this in the same style as the also excellent 'A Prison of Glass' by McSwazey since someone suggested that for the rewrite of E(U)STW (which really doesn't work very well as an acronym) so thought I'd get some practice with it. It was pretty fun, if more difficult than expected to get used to writing third person again.
This is just a fun fic to mess around with and keep practicing writing, but I hope you enjoyed it. As always, summaries are the bane of my life.