It was bad.
The Slaughterhouse Nine, the boogiemen of the Cape world, had descended on Brockton Bay. Jack Slash, the leader. Bonesaw, one of the world's most adaptable Biotinkers and Biokinetics. Shatterbird, able to shriek a song that could shatter glass and anything silicon-based. Crawler, an adaptable regenerator said to be unkillable. Hatchet Face, able to negate powers as long as the user was within a certain radius of himself. The Siberian, killer of Hero and seemingly just as immortal and invulnerable as Crawler, she had never been wounded. Mannequin, a former-Tinker who sought to bring the despair he felt to all. Burnscar, a psychopathic Pyrokinetic who gloried in the casualties she caused. Finally there was Cherish, one of the spawn of Heartbreaker, able to manipulate the emotions of an entire city as she pleased.
They had been in town for less than two days and it was almost as bad as the immediate aftermath of an Endbringer attack. The PRT HQ, the Police station, New Wave's homes, the Protectorate HQ…all of them had been hit. Armsmaster, Assault, Dauntless, Kaiser, Oni Lee, Hookwolf and Fenja were dead, Emily Piggot was on life support and Glory Girl was missing an arm, thanks to Crawler eating it. There had been hundreds of non-Cape casualties in addition to those.
For all those casualties, the Nine weren't having it entirely their own way. Cherie and Burnscar were dead, Shatterbird had had her throat ripped out and Bonesaw was so busy keeping her alive that she hadn't had time to unleash more than one plague, which Panacea had helped to counter even as she helped her sister, while Mannequin was in Protectorate custody, trapped by Armsmaster's dying attack with a miniaturised force field containment unit that nothing seemed to be able to penetrate.
Now Jack Slash was strolling down a random street in Brockton Bay humming thoughtfully to himself. He looked utterly forgettable. Entirely normal, with nothing that made him stand out from the crowd. His power, which extended the blade of any bladed weapon he held to ridiculous ranges, with no loss of force behind it, was on the weaker side of Cape abilities, yet he was the longest living member of the Nine, not including Harbinger who had left after helping him kill King, the former leader of the Nine. He had survived where all those big bad motherfuckers had bit the bullet. Now that was something to be proud of.
"Ah man…didn't expect Mimi to die here." He mused aloud as he waved a shaving razor around, randomly cutting mailboxes to pieces, "Cherie…yeah, she wasn't a surprise. But Mimi? Man, this sucks."
Brockton Bay was supposed to be a training run to keep their hand in at the random chaos and murder business, as they'd gone to ground to test Cherish for two months. The last thing he'd wanted was to get off his game. Instead, the cesspit of a city was resisting the Nine with everything it had and they were down by over half of the Nine, although only three were well and truly out of commission. He would have to see about getting mannequin out of the Rig at some point. Maybe after Shatterbird was up and running again.
"Recruits…need to find recruits now." He muttered. Well, it wasn't as if he wasn't spoilt for choice. Brockton Bay was full of Capes. Lung, Miss Militia, Battery…he'd have to poll the rest when he got back to their hideout. He'd cleared out the Dockworker's Union when they'd arrived in the Bay. Bonesaw had played with a few of them, but none had been very amusing for her, so she'd just killed them. After about ten hours.
He paused when a slim figure in a hooded cape strode out in front of him, about ten meters away. Jack peered at the figure in honest curiosity. Just about the only people who didn't run away from him were other members of the Nine and some select, stupid heroes. As he didn't recognise this character, it had to be a hero, probably a fresh Trigger.
"Why hello there!" he greeted the figure cheerfully, "Lovely day isn't it?"
"Jack Slash." The voice of the figure was young and female. She had to be just a handful of years older than Bonesaw.
"That's the name, girlie, don't wear it out." He replied flippantly, "Now, just to hurry things along, I'm presuming that I or my compatriots, have killed, maimed or otherwise harmed someone close to you and that you are here to avenge them, etc, etc. Am I right?"
"Something like that." The girl almost snarled back angrily. Jack had to supress a wild smile. There was something about killing those filled with righteous fury that he simply adored, never got tired of.
"Well now, that's the thing…" he said with an exaggerated shrug, "Me and my guys and gals have killed so many people since coming here that I have no clue as to who it could be. Care to drop a hint…such as your name?"
In answer, the girl cast off her cloak, revealing her costume. She was gangly thin, wearing a silvery costume with blue gloves and boots. She wore a blue face mask with no facial features whatsoever and a hood over the rest of her head.
"My name is Mass Effect." The girl bit out angrily, "That's all the information you're getting from me, monster. Today, you will die."
"If I had a blade for every time I've heard that line." Jack rolled his eyes before lashing out quickly with his weapon. It struck the side of the girl's neck…and bounced off. Jack blinked. That didn't happen every day.
"Alexandria-type? Brute? Selective invulnerability?" he wondered aloud, "Let's test that, shall we?"
Lashing out a couple more times with his razor, he was disappointed to see that none of his cuts has so much as damaged the skin of her costume, let alone her actual skin.
"You're starting to bore me." Mass Effect said with a shake of her head and she raised her hand to point at Jack. Immediately, his little sixth sense, the part of his power that could detect whenever he was being targeted by a Parahuman power, started ringing like an Endbringer alarm. He dodged to the right just as the girl fired a grey beam at him, missing him by less than an inch.
Turning his head, he saw that an empty car had been hit by it and was being crushed by some kind of immense pressure even as he watched. Gravity, perhaps?
"That looks painful." He commented as he turned back to face Mass Effect. Seriously, she chose the name of an Earth Aleph game as her Cape name? It was still better than Chubster, but still!
"If you want first-hand experience of it, stay still!" she growled ad started rapid-firing beams at him. As Jack dodged, he grimaced. He'd hated Grey Boy with a passion and was glad the little creep was dead. Ever since, he'd avoided the colour grey though.
Grabbing his mobile, he hit the speed dial and connected with Hatchet Face. "Hey there. I'm in a spot of bother here, so could you get over here and deal with this for me?"
"Parahuman?" the Parahuman-hating Parahuman asked.
"Yup. Look, get your ass over here, pronto." Jack told him. Out of all of the Nine, Hatchet Face was the most mobile aside from the Siberian with Shatterbird down and Burnscar dead. His ability to neutralise Parahuman powers would teach this slip of a girl not to mess with him.
"On my way." The Brute/Trump told him before hanging up.
"The great Jack Slash begging for help…what a let-down." Mass Effect said scornfully.
Jack frowned slightly before plastering a grin on his face. No point showing the little so-and-so that she was getting to him.
"Well, considering you can't seem to be affected by my knife, it's only logical to send someone in who can hurt you." He replied jovially, "Hatchet Face hates Brutes, just so you know. A bit contradictory considering he's a Brute too, but there you have it."
"He's a power-negator, but only within a certain radius of himself." Mass Effect shrugged, "I did my research on you murder-hobos. With Mannequin, Burnscar and Cherish out of the picture, that only leaves six of you to go."
"I'd dearly love to see someone who could even hurt the Siberian!" Jack laughed, "Ditto for Crawler. Hell, he'd love that. He really gets no challenges these days. Being a bit tough doesn't mean squat in the big leagues, kid. Hit the road if you don't get that."
"I don't exactly care. I will kill you or die trying." Mass Effect stated unequivocally. Her voice was as hard as granite and the power pulsing off her was…troubling, to say the least.
She clenched her gloved hand into a fist before kneeling down and punching the road surface. For a moment, nothing happened and Jack was tempted to make a joke about how that was taking 'hit the road' a bit too literally, but then he started to feel…light.
Looking down, his eyes widened as he saw that he was literally floating off the ground! He tried to somehow return to solid ground, but with no success as he was rising up higher and higher. Around him, he could see a lot of other things floating into the air; cars, mailboxes, garden ornaments and even one very confused looking cat.
"Yeah, you and me both, pal." He told it before returning his attention to Mass Effect and realised that her name wasn't in homage of the game; it was a descriptor of her power. She could control the mass of things around her. Her beams could increase the mass of something, up until the point where they were crushed by their own weight, apparently. This…whatever this was…made things and people lighter, to the point that Newtonian Laws were apparently repealed for her victims.
She was likely increasing the mass of her suit to the point that it was so dense that his knife couldn't cut it either. How? There was usually a limit to how much one could increase the mass of something…
He spotted several clumps of dust that vaguely resembled cars over by where the girl had come from. Ah. So she could absorb and redistribute the mass of things as well. That explained it. Jack couldn't see any organic piles, so either she was too squeamish to drain the mass of organic beings or she couldn't do that because of the Manton Effect. Either way, it was a pass for him.
"So, what? Are we just going to float here all day?" he asked her as she floated up to the same level as him.
"No…you are going to go say hello to the Simurgh on your way to Mercury." Mass Effect said plainly, "Dying in space, alone and unlamented…a fitting end for a vainglorious monster such as you."
Actual fear started to flicker in his heart before he ruthlessly quashed it. He was Jack Slash, dammit! He had killed King! He was the dark shadow of the Parahuman world! Like hell he'd just die at the hands of this brat!
Jack reached into his pocket and drew out an old combat knife he had taken from some old army vet a couple of years ago before lashing out with both blades in a scissor manoeuvre, attempting to take the brat's head off, but as before, his blades didn't even scratch her!
She floated in closer and grabbed his knives, reducing them to dust as she absorbed their mass into herself. Now completely disarmed, Jack tried in vain to grab the brat so he could wring her neck, but she seemed to be able to control his body somewhat inside this…buoyancy field …that she had created and wrenched him away from her, thrashing and roaring in fury.
"Now…fly, Jack." Mass Effect snarled at him, "Die!"
Before she could do anything to back up her words, a naked zebra-striped woman flew at her. The Siberian.
'About bloody time, William!' Jack thought testily. Something that he had drilled into the heads of all of the Nine was that if he asked for backup, he needed backup five minutes ago. Calling Hatchet Face had been him getting the rest of the Nine, aside from Bonesaw and Shatterbird, into gear.
Mass Effect dodged the flying woman and tried to blast her with her grey beam of weight, but as with all powers, it failed against the projection of William Manton's daughter. When the Siberian came around again, she slammed a fist into Mass Effect's body.
Unusually, the girl didn't go flying off into the distance coughing up blood or getting ripped in two by the punch. Jack blinked slowly in disbelief. Only Alexandria herself had tanked a hit from the Siberian that well before and even that colossus had coughed up blood from it. Sure, the brat was writhing a bit and the mask meant he had no idea if she had coughed up blood or not, but still…
"Your choice, bitch…me or him?" Mass Effect asked in a grunt as Jack found himself flying higher into the air very rapidly. Throwing the Cape a dirty look, The Siberian shot after Jack, leaving Mass Effect to speed off herself.
Later
With Jack
Ladies and gentlemen…that little lady is a problem." Jack announced bluntly. Around him, the remaining six members of the Slaughterhouse Nine were gathered. Crawler looked intrigued by the girl, almost slobbering (he was slobbering, in point of fact) to go after her.
"A Cape who can tank a hit from Siberian without dying and isn't Alexandria? Sign me up!" he boomed .
"Mr. Jack, can I experiment on her Corona Pollentia and Corona Gemma?" Bonesaw asked excitedly. The girl was hopping excitedly.
"Once we've taught her the error of her ways, poppet." Jack reassured her, "Hatchet Face, where on earth were you while I was almost shot into the stratosphere?"
"Lady Photon, Laserdream and Shielder, along with that armour boy…Gallant." The Cape Killer grunted, "Had to jump into the sewers to avoid them."
Jack scowled. Doubtless New Wave were trying to avenge the damage done to Glory Girl.
"Well that explains that. Poppet, how's Shatterbird?"
"Whoever tore her throat out did a bang-up job of it." Bonesaw pouted, "The only reason she survived this long was because she covered the wound in glass to seal it shut long enough for me to stich things together. She's still weak and I need more biomass to work with before I can get her back to 100%."
"It was Bitch/Hellhound's mutant dog things that did that." Hatchet Face grunted as he sharpened his axe, "Stupid songbird was flying too low and got caught off guard by them jumping from a rooftop."
"And on that note…nominations to replace Cherish and Burnscar please." Jack grinned.
With Mass Effect
Stumbling into her house's back door, Mass Effect took off her mask, revealing the pale features of one Taylor Hebert. Casting the mask aside, making a sizable dent on the floor as she did so, she slumped into a chair and started to pull her costume off.
Looking down at the large discoloured bruise that was spread across most of her torso, she grimaced. She had just wasted the best possible chance to eliminate Jack Slash, when he was separated from the rest of the Nine. He was too smart to let himself get caught alone like that again now he knew that she was after him.
Her 'Cape Phone' started ringing and she sluggishly picked it up.
"Hi Parian." She said with a wince. She winced again, this time at the loud voice being broadcast down the connection.
"No, I wasn't trying to die...how do you even…oh, great. So people saw me get my ass kicked. Lovely."
She technically worked for Parian as a bodyguard, although her costume for that job was very different than the one she currently wore; a purple bodysuit with padding making for a more…womanly figure, a shoulder-length cape, white gloves and a mask resembling a serene woman. People knew her as Beatdown in that guise.
"Look, I have to do this…no…NO, Parian, I will not reconsider." Taylor said sharply, "He was my Dad, Parian. I can't just sit back and do nothing while his murderers run free. Look…huh? New Wave? What about them….? Crawler did what to Glory Girl?! Yeah, they'll have an axe to grind…team up? Yeah right. The only one who can tank one of the Siberians punches is Glory Girl herself and she's been very literally disarmed!"
She listened again. "Hatchet Face? Shit, yeah, I forgot he was on the way. OK, look, I'll think about it tomorrow, OK? I just got punched by the fucking Siberian, so I need to rest and heal. Yeah…uh-huh…keep safe yourself. I mean it. Close up shop. Jack's a mad fucker; he'll come after you for the shits and giggles if for no other reason. Yeah, I'm serious. Come over to my place…yes, I'm serious. OK, see you in half an hour. Yeah…bye."
Taylor sighed before staggering to her feet and tottering to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for some pain relief before staggering to bed. She was out like a light before her head hit the pillow.
So, yeah. This takes place three months after the locker incident, right about where Lung and the Undersiders would be throwing down. It does mean I sped up Cherish's recruitment and killed off someone other than Hatchet Face, but meh. Again, not a very good name, but better than Beatdown, I think you will agree.
Striker: 3 (Able to absorb the mass of non-organic objects via touch. This mass can then be redistributed as she likes, into weapons or her costume, but is defaulted to increasing her strength and durability without her input.)
Brute: 4+ (Can increase her own mass to a certain extent, granting her superhuman strength and durability. In order to go beyond her built-in limit, she must use her Striker ability.)
Blaster: 3 (Able to fire grey beams from her hand that increase the mass of anything it hits. Taylor is able to adjust the amount of mass from a minor inconvenience to crushing the target underneath its own weight.)
Mover: 3 (Able to reduce her own mas to the point that she can run and jump faster. Is even able to reduce her mass enough that she can glide rather than fall from heights.)
Shaker: 4 (Is able to create a field within which she controls the mass of everything caught by it. The larger the radius of the field, however, the less control she has and the harder it is to maintain.)
Thinker: 3 (Able to instantly read the amount of mass any object or creature has. Automatically knows her own mass down to ten decimal points and can sense the mass around her, up to fifty feet away. Can be fooled by projections, such as the Siberian, as they have no mass per-se.)