Cutscenes 7-5 Multiple
February 15, 2011, ABB Territory - Brockton Bay, 04:02 PM
Kevin 'Kefuu-kun' Jones did his best to appear nonchalant while walking past the police line, glad that his sunglasses were on and his hood was down, he was at his anonymous best. This was the fourth establishment of theirs that was hit, and as far as he knew there was only one more brothel left for the ABB prostitution ring to be completely dismantled. Honestly, he was quite glad that it was being dismantled, he personally never agreed with these activities of the gang.
His job in the Azn Bad Boys was simple, he worked at the local bakery right opposite the BPPD 14th precinct station. He was to listen to all the gossip from the local policemen who frequented the place and feed intel to the ABB. His ability to appear as a white guy with sunglasses on and Asian with them off was extremely helpful. Besides, as a cutesy looking mixed-race male, in this neighbourhood, Kevin was a completely ubiquitous fixture - and cops on breaks talked about anything and everything. Their loose lips have allowed him to warn his comrades about drug busts more than once.
Apart from being simple his job was also quite redundant right now, everyone knew what was happening. The Undersiders were hitting each of their profitable establishments, robbing them blind, and pushing them to try to retaliate. The moment they'd try to hit back, The Undersiders would vanish like the slippery eels they were and the retaliators would find themselves surrounded by the police. Twice now he had tried to phone in a warning, both times figuring out it was already too late and said drug dens or gambling houses were already under attack and everybody was too busy trying to defend themselves or catch the thieving capes. Today was not shaping up to be a good day for him or the ABB.
Currently, the ABB was gutted and capeless. Kevin heard via the grapevine that Lee had apparently contacted one of the gang chiefs after breaking out, said he was going further inland to arrange for Lung's extraction, they were apparently supposed to hold the fort. How did the demon expect them to hold the fort against the Undersiders, the Empire and, above all, the heroes? Especially the Blue Devil and the Bug Youkai? Those two had combined forces with New Wave and were completely destroying the heavily armed security around each brothel and delivering the 'masseuses' to safety.
The brothels, or 'massage parlours' as they were always referred to, were handled by an elite, insular group even amongst the ABB, because that business was supposed to be both lucrative and prestigious. Kevin honestly was more than glad to not be involved in that. Like a lot of other ABB members, he thought kidnapping girls and forcing them into prostitution was extremely dishonourable - though in the end these were thoughts never to be voiced. Even now, it was commonly accepted that Lung would be breaking out and he'd rip apart any dissenter to pieces.
He was jostled out of his musings as he collided with something, or rather, someone. His sunglasses fell off his face and clattered down the street. As he bent down to pick them up, the person he collided with picked them up and handed it to him, "Sorry man, you alright there?" His hindbrain was sending frantic panic signals but it was too late, he looked up at the face of the person holding the glasses. And he froze.
Shaved head, check, neck tattoo, check, narrowing eyes, check. Kevin glanced around to confirm he'd not lost his way, no, closer to the edge, perhaps, but this was ABB territory alright. What was the E88 doing here?
He tried to slip away but a meaty hand caught him at the shoulder and slammed him to the wall. "Well well well, look what we have here!" There were two of them! "Huh, a chink trying to pose as a respectable gentleman. What has the world come to?!"
Backed into a corner, he snarled, "This is not your area, what are you doing-" His face snapped to one side as a punch from the one holding him rattled his head.
The other guy put his finger to his lips, "Now now my slanty friend, that's not how you speak to your betters. This is our area if we say it is, your previous management being, heh, indisposed. No one's coming to help you. Hence, either you pass the message, or become the message." He raised his hand in another punch, Kevin, already dazed, flinched and closed his eyes in preparation for the oncoming beating.
The punch didn't reach him, but the sound of both of his assailants screaming did, as did a strange, humming buzz. The pressure on his shoulder eased, he opened his eyes to see a few bees (wasps actually, he later realized) on the E88 men. And more bees were arriving by the minute. That was more than enough of a cue for him, he legged it.
As he turned around the corner of the block, he took a moment to catch his breath, and peeked around once to see the fully formed body of the Bug Youkai hovering above the two downed Empire goons. "Serves them right." He muttered.
"It does." The deep voice came from behind him. Kevin's blood almost froze. Today wasn't looking like a good day for him at all. "Kuso!" He muttered and slowly turned around to face the glowing blue monstrosity. Maker, as the demon called himself, nodded at him. "Hello, Kefuu-kun, we need to talk."
February 19, 2011, Merchant Territory - Brockton Bay, 07:13 AM
Adam Mustain, thirty-something mid-tier entrepreneur, lauded for organising and investing in all the cart-based vendors of North Brockton Bay, providing employment to a lot of homeless folks, got out of his Italian sports car and waved to a nearby food cart vendor, flashing him a flawless grin. This was one of the northernmost streets where that car would not look out of place. Just north of this gentrified locality were the ruins of the business districts which collapsed when the train yards further north became a shell of its former glory due to the post-Leviathan drop in shipping affecting the docks.
The food cart vendor waved back in good spirits, Mr. Mustain's company had loaned him seed money for that cart at almost no interest, with the assurance that the repayment terms will remain comfortable as long as he didn't talk about the parcels that he picked up with his daily supplies and gave to whoever guessed the numbers on the parcels right. He was not a fool, he did understand that it was definitely not something very legal in the packages, but honestly he didn't care. Caring for legalities was the luxury of folks whose meagre livelihoods weren't dependent upon it.
Adam, quite aware of the vendor's sentiment, walked into his office, nodded at the receptionist and went into his cabin, then walked into his private bathroom. Where the first thing he did was to take off the fake teeth.
Behind the office building, the garage door of an adjacent building opened up and out rolled a muscle car so loaded with bling that its spinners had spinners. Said car drove up through the ruins into a warehouse almost adjacent to the trainyards. The car screeched to a halt, the warehouse shutter dropped, two glassy eyed sentries jolted awake and pointed their improvised firearms at the car quite reluctantly.
The car door opened and out came Skidmark, leader of the Archer's Bridge Merchants, "Finally! You dumbfucks remembered! Just like I said, if you see any-fuckin'-body else than me or Squealer coming through here, fill their ass with hot lead." Skidmark said, flashing a dirty grin revealing his blackened, corroded teeth. The grunts nodded eagerly.
Skidmark went up a set of stairs, nodding and yelling cheerful profanities at other, high ranking non-cape members of the Merchants lounging around. As an act of solidarity, he shared a pinch of high quality white powder with everyone, engaging in a well practiced sleight of hand replacing his own pinch with a specifically diluted version. As soon as he entered the so called 'office' upstairs, his cheerful and crass demeanour melted away to reveal a pensive expression.
The room, where the capes of the gang would usually gather, was almost empty, It was too early for any cape with a lax lifestyle to be awake, the sole exception being the cape who had originally called him citing an emergency, Skidmark frowned at him, "So what's the big deal?"
Trainwreck, with much less mechanical junk attached to him than usual, was looking spooked. He gulped, "I… I woke up and this was in front of me." His arm hissed, clanked and held up a card in front of Skidmark.
Skidmark took the card, it was a plain white card, on it was printed in clear words:
'If your gang does anything more than selling drugs to adults who actually want them. We will have a problem with you.'
His face first twisted into a snarl of fury, who the fuck was this trying to dictate terms to him? He opened his mouth to shout at Trainwreck.
But Before he could work up his anger, his slightly narcotic-addled but still sharp mind caught up with one particular detail of the card, his snarl vanished and his face ashened with worry.
The writing was glowing blue.
February 23, 2011, Medhall Building - Brockton Bay, 10:21 PM
Max Anders, CEO of Medhall, recently back from a not-so-successful tour of Europe where he had a heated exchange with certain powerful people about his failure to get the Panacea Pill contract, was frowning. But the cause of that frown, more than the humiliating exchange, was what he saw as he looked at a projected map in the penthouse boardroom of the Medhall building. The map of Brockton Bay was overlaid with black patches denoting Empire 88 territory, as the date on top cycled through the last few weeks, the edges of the black patches turned grey and a few of them even disappeared.
Max's frown intensified the more he looked at the display, with a dignified snort of disgust, he turned towards his two lieutenants, "James, Brad, what is happening? We hadn't faced this uncouth a scenario in our territory since Allfather's passing!"
Unlike Max, his lieutenants were in costume, while Hookwolf could manage no more than a frustrated growl, Krieg sighed and answered, "It can't be helped, Kaiser, we're being pincered. Swarm and Maker are still at it, and now they've joined forces. They've been blocking any and every inroad attempt to capture the ABB areas. I've honestly been thinking of showing up in force but I've been waiting for you. The other side is being attacked by the Travellers, this new vigilante group who've taken up Coil's area, word is out that Coil's been disposed off. The trouble is that all of these attacks are on our grunts, our cape patrols and haunts are untouched, but faith in Empire is at an all time low in the streets."
Hookwolf grunted, "Hrmf, I would've taught 'em a lesson by now, but I've seen the vids, and trying to take on someone who toys with Lung is no joke. But these other kids are new, I've been itching to take them a peg down, show them the ropes, but Kriegg and Victor asked me to wait."
Kaiser nodded, "Good choice. Victor couldn't join us at such a short notice, but his intel from PRT moles tells us that Coil was taken down by In Venatus, or as you know them, Swarm and Maker, hence it falls to reason that the Travellers, who're an A-class ex-villain group last spotted in Boston," Max raised an eyebrow at Brad, who had the decency to look abashed at his ignorance, Max continued, "are somehow allied with In Venatus, just like the Undersiders, our mole confirms, who're currently busy destroying any semblance of the ABB, bless their souls. This pincer attack is definitely not coincidental, it's a trap, and you showing up to teach them a lesson would have sprung the trap."
Hookwolf grimaced, "Then what do we do? Sit around like a bunch of pussies? Or try to team up with that Nigger trash Skidmark? Their bunch is the only organised gang remaining!" Krieg frowned and put a hand on Brad's shoulders, Hookwolf was a respected colleague, but James did not agree with his demeanour at all.
Max's eyes hardened, "Calm yourself, springing the trap is the right idea, but if they're coordinating in the background, the only way to go is overwhelming Force, let's show them why the Empire will not submit to a few jumped up gangs. Call a meeting, all of our members, we'll be going to war."
February 23, 2011, Dev's House - Brockton Bay, 11:07 PM
Dev gaped at his brother with mock surprise, "It's been more than two weeks since your faux teleportation trick, and you tell me there's nothing new to dazzle me anymore? What happened to your fancy shmancy 'unlimited potential' huh?" He enjoyed the the look of incredulous irritation on Aveek's face. His cousin, whom he rescued from Leviathan when they were children, has been his brother, his son, in rare moments his parent… and now his employer.
Having borne the burden of survival of Aveek and him on his own shoulders since his teens had given rise to his nihilistic demeanour. Working with capes at an early age had added a whole new level of savvy and nonchalance towards weird shit. But despite all that he would still have called the last two months both the weirdest and the most wondrous time of his life. His brother turned out to be some new kind of cape, Dev himself had a near-death experience, then he got to play around with sums of money he never dreamed of. Now he had worked with THE NUMBER MAN on a few books of accounts! There was also a very recent enquiry about mechanical items crafted to perfection, from an alias which he was sure had links to the Boston villain scene, most probably the Ambassadors...
Aveek's whining tone cut through his musings, "Aw c'mon, the gains have started plateauing, you know very well that the initial rush of", he made air quotes, " 'dazzling' things was not sustainable, and progress is supposed to further slow down from now. Analyzing whatever I could of the Travellers and other cape powers that I managed to scan revealed some interesting methods which are a bit brute-force science and way too energy intensive to use for me... So that was a bust. Maybe I get something new after we take care of E88. But that doesn't mean everything needs to be 'dazzling'! There has been substantial inroads made!"
Dev made a 'go on' motion and arranged his face into the most unimpressed facade possible, he had an image to maintain. Aveek's tone perked up, "So I've raised my effective radius to 20 metres, persistence to almost 2 minutes after leaving my control. And I've finally managed to raise programming high enough to start making sense of the macros from the Macros and Scripting menu! It's very interesting! It's like a high level scripting language which, using its own data structures and handles, can be represented using any commonly kno..."
"Yap yap yapyapyap..." Dev mimed his hand opening and closing, "Nerd out with your nerd friends, what does it result in?"
Aveek frowned at him, "Spoilsport! It results in me having Ten stable copies all over the world whose mana cost is walled off from my available pool with a macro, which means..."
Dev completed the thought, "Ah, which means more faux teleport locations, permanently running parallel minds and clone bodies, and true immortality for you, and subsequently us, unless Earth Bet blows up or something. Right?" Dev nodded, that was impressive indeed, though he'd be damned if he showed it. Aveek didn't need a bigger head.
Aveek mock-scowled at him, "Why do you even ask if you can figure it out yourself? Huh!" He got up in a huff and started to stomp away towards the kitchen, but suddenly froze halfway. His face showed momentary surprise but then went rigid and mechanical.
Dev noticed it and tensed too, "What? Did you just switch to another body somewhere?"
Aveek turned to fully face him, then blankly nodded, "Um, the Simurgh, it's beginning to descend."
