The hideout being empty was perfect for Lisa, it allowed her to plan and research in peace.

Brian was out, taking care of things he needed to do for his sister, Alec had gone out for food and to cool off after losing at his game (he had told Lisa not to expect him to get anything for her), Bitch was taking care of her dogs, and Chariot (aka Trevor Medina, their newest member) was out-

Works for Coil, recruited some time ago, same the rest of the Undersiders; Loyal to Coil, supporting him with tech and supplies for Tinkering and protecting his family; was told to watch Lisa, thinks she is cute, unlikely to ask her out based on know-it-all attitude-

-Getting Tinker supplies and visiting his family.

This all meant that the young woman was able to spread all of her notes and paperwork across the table that she had commandeered, without anyone complaining.

Not that it would have stopped her, but it meant that she didn't have to sit and argue over whether she needed all the space; an argument that she would have won, but still.

Most people would take one look at the mess of papers and see nothing but just that: a mess: but with Lisa's power, she could easily pull whatever info she wanted from the piles of paper with but a glance. Same as her laptop, it was written in a code that was mostly gibberish, but she could pull the meanings out with a simple look.

Lisa was actually trying to multitask, something she could manage, but still hard, even for her. On one hand, she was trying to gather more information on Coil so she could put her 'plan' into action to get him buried six feet deep; on the other hand, she was both tallying up the Undersiders last big job, hitting the Ruby Dreams casino, and working on what their next job would be.

She even had The Nexus running in the background (a guilty pleasure, it was always nice to listen to the Hosts on that site, particularly Tin Mother), and set to one of the music Streams; not very helpful, but the wildly different songs they played always seemed to help her power run more effectively (even if it meant that she would get a Thinkers Headache faster).

Her current issue, however, was that Coil (aka Strike Commander Thomas Calvert of the PRT) wanted them to do another job, any job, nothing specific. Yet. Just that it would happen sometime in early April.

Which was strange, not just in that Coil had given her basically given her over a week, maybe even three, more or less-

Likely early April; confident, spoke as if date was already known; knows date already. Several events happening in the city require Protectorate presence; job is likely to be used as a distraction given openness. Spoke quickly, mind on other matters, nervous; something has happened, effecting current plans. Likely involves Taylor Hebert given interest in her.

-to plan, something that he had never done before (usually it was just a few days at best) but he also sounded harried. Lisa didn't exactly know how or why Coil had figured out that Taylor was messing with his power, but she did know that Coil firmly believed it and was making plans to deal with it; with or without Lisa's help.

Which he was, demanding her help, that was. With his power on the fritz (something he was taking great pains not to show, but she wasn't quite able to have the time she needed to confirm what his power was doing, with him using the other side of their 'deal' via information gathering, offering up payment for that and giving other jobs to be done by the Undersiders at the same time), Coil was making quick but subtle moves. Something done here, a job there, a 'request' here and there.

The best that Lisa could figure, Coil was figuring ways around Taylor; though it would help if she knew what her power was doing to his. It would make planning around Coil much easier, or at least give her some points of reference for what she could work with.

Speaking of which, Lisa felt a glimmer of guilt over running circles around the other girl, Taylor honestly had no idea what was going on and wanted nothing more than to move on with her life. Alas, it was not to be.

It didn't help that Taylor's house was free of bugs. Why? Lisa honestly had no idea, but after discovering that and finding the box that had once contained a phone, sent from Dragon no less, made the Hebert household into an opportunity that she couldn't miss.

After all, what better way to get some possible Protectorate help than to get the organizations best Tinker's attention?

Because a phone was a perfect place for both a tracking device, as well as something to listen in on the user; particularly for things like an underling of a known criminal talking to a person that was 'under observation.'

Sure, maybe it was a mistake to give her 'real' name out, but she could always change it later. Plus, with the PRT looking for 'Lisa,' they wouldn't be looking for Sarah.

It helped that she was factoring in the PRT 'helping,' and that if she arranged her cards right after Coil was dealt with, the Undersiders would walk away as Rogues for hire (aiming for the less…controversial, jobs of course), or as Independents under the umbrella of the Guild.

She just needed to stay one step ahead of the PRT, the Protectorate, Coil, hell, even Danny Hebert was someone she needed to keep an eye on. All so that, when the time came, she could put a bullet in Calvert's brain.

Because if the PRT got ahold of him first, then there was a chance that he'd escape, seeking revenge on her later.

"-and that was a song from our own Earth Bet, by Bytsteam. Currently it's-"

Tall order, especially considering that looking into Taylor's files (under Coil's own orders, no less) had given her the idea in the first place. It was barely a hint of a plan, one that needed a bit of refinement sure, given the factors involved, but…

She just needed to do some more research first.

As for Coil's 'request' (not a request, never a request with him), that could be put on the back burner. She'd spoken to Taylor, even if it wasn't the words that Coil wanted her to speak, which could be a problem when he came a-calling; she would just have to lie her ass off if he asked too many questions.

For her plans, however… Lisa smiled, because some of her explanations to Taylor on why she hadn't been killed by Coil or tossed under the bus, in one way or another, were not only true, but was something that now held an important part of her own plans.

Danny Hebert, of the Dock Workers Association. On paper, the head of hiring and the spokesperson for the Union, in reality, however, Danny was basically the head of the whole organization.

The actual head had all but moved on into politics during the course of the years of lobbying to keep the DWA going and was set in case the group finally ground to a halt. This meant that Danny was, in fact, in charge of roughly two thousand people on a semi-daily basis. Granted, a little over half of those numbers were simply card-holders that had other jobs but came in for something Dock-related if the work was offered, while somewhere in the range of half of the remainder set were the ones that actually still worked at the Docks on a scheduled basis, with the rest simply being workers that came in looking for job openings for the day/week/month.

In the grand scheme of things the numbers didn't support long term survival for the DWA, but given that the crash of the Docks due to the workers' strikes (and having the beached ship blocking the mouth of the bay, cause and effect and all that) had resulted in everything from factories to businesses shutting down (and only the influx of other white-collar businesses, Medhall for example, was what saved Brockton Bay from total economic collapse), meant that a lot of blue-collar workers were out of a job.

Luckily, Tāwhirimātea had passed through the Bay years ago, and in its wake left equal parts destruction and creation.

Whole fields of flowers sprung up almost overnight as the Endbringer fertilized the lands, even as whole streets were flooded by the waters. Many households used their pre-bought seeds to set up small farms in their backyards. Everything from apple trees to eggplants were rapidly grown in the soil; even the skyscrapers set up community farms on their roofs.

"-or common as the time goes by, it almost seems like people are getting tired of the corporate music agencies. These small-time indie bands are raking in-"

Of course, this meant construction and repairs from damages from the flooding and electrical shorts. The city couldn't cover everything, so they outsourced where they could.

Even the common phonebook contractor was hard at work, for even in a place with a mild climate like the Bay certain crops would not grow without shade or support; which in turn meant workers were needed to do the construction beyond simple stakes, planters, and trellises.

Same went for the Docks, as old buildings found new life as local workshops for the construction, and markets popped up to sell said crops, with everything from food, fresh fish from the cleaned bay and ocean, to even woodworking and other odds and ends being sold by enthusiastic entrepreneurs. A few places were even set aside for hydroponics, both for plants for places like Medhall for their pharmaceuticals and for a new demand for locally grown organic crops.

But with the collapse of the Docks years ago and the subsequent exodus of blue-collar workers, there just wasn't enough people to do those jobs, even with the city reaching out to find those willing, and capable, of working and repairing what had been damaged.

Except for in the decaying Brockton Bay Dock Workers Association.

It wasn't so much that the organization had the numbers (they had been gutted years ago and were simply bleeding out at this point), it was the fact that even though the toughest times, the DWA kept in contact with one another. As jobs started showing up, the group's members started reaching out to old friends to get them done; the links of companionship and bonds formed through blood, sweat, and hard labor connecting people together, even years later.

These factors added up to the point that the DWA became the to-go place for a job that needed to be done, or for work to be found.

And that was due in part to one Danny Hebert.

People remembered the man, working just as hard as the men who lifted crates for a living did, fighting for contacts, for the ferry to be reestablished (it did, partly; it only ran on a single ship four times a day, with another two during the night for shipping), fighting to keep the workers' jobs in the Bay, even when it seemed like it was hopeless.

But after the Stormbringer passed by, everything changed.

With the Bay's location, shipping took a bit of an upturn, hampered only by the cargo ship stuck in the mouth of the bay and the damaged tracks of the trainyard.

In the surrounding countryside around Brockton, even more crops could be grown, drawing in smalltime companies, eager for expansion. With the fresh Endbringer cleaned soil growing crops, it meant that some prepared people living in the Bay needed to spend that little less on more food, which in turn attracted companies to take that excess, prepare it, package it, and ship it out.

With the trainyards (partly) coming back online, and hopefully the removal of old ships in the Boat Graveyard, even more crops and supplies could be moved out of the city. And with infrastructure being built to support this, it would hopefully allow for production to continue even as the soil began to lose its Endbringer 'purification' and 'enhancement' in the following months.

Every bit of this meant that Brockton needed good, qualified workers for the city, as they did not have enough within the cities worker and unions to start laying the groundwork to entice possible businesses in.

Again, enter the DWA; the men and women who had been struggling to get by, repairing the actual dock areas of the Docks, as well as been helping out in keeping the few factories running.

They were a joint package, the DWA members had been working their hardest to make sure their jobs were done one hundred and ten percent, to further their reputation so that people would think of them as reliable and offer them more jobs in the future, and Danny had been working just as hard in getting contracts for said jobs; talking to the city, bidding for contacts, checking over contacts to make sure that they weren't covers for the more shady citizens of the city, making sure that the Dock works still got paid and got their benefits.

Most of the unions in the city knew of Danny Hebert, and he was a semi-regular fixture in city hall, doing everything he could to keep the DWA, and its people, alive and well.

And when Tāwhirimātea flew over the city, with all the water damage, the repairs, the need for construction, people remembered the DWA and Danny Hebert; and so, the contracts flowed in, as the city received offers and contacts for businesses and looked upon what could be, instead of what was.

Hope in the city flared up as old warehouses were looked over and cleaned, several businesses in talks with the city for places to set down roots.

Even the scrap from the Graveyards, both the boats and trains, were being eyed for use; a factory just needed to be set up.

In fact, Brockton had an old metalworking plant, it just needed to be repaired and updated, but it could have been up and working in under a year.

All of this led to a resurgence of old values and actions not seen for decades; people spoke to their neighbors on a daily basis, street fairs and regular meet-ups, formed from the surge of fresh food and the spike of small arts and crafts to accompany said markets, happened often in old buildings. Some even showed up on residential streets.

"-xt song is by a group over in Earth Aleph, don't ask how we got it though. They started out in Icela-"

It seemed like Brockton would get it's feet back under it, as the rain helped shift a number of old boats of the beaches, which in turn meant that workers became hard at work to remove them lest they drift into the bay more, hopeful that the shipping industry would rise back up because of it. The fact that new buildings were being put in place meant jobs would be (hopefully) opening up for them.

A simple cycle, of jobs opening up to be done to make new jobs, which fed itself in slow, regular motions.

But it wasn't to be, for while the rains of Tāwhirimātea had helped purify the waters and soil of the Bay, it did little to solve the underlying rot present in the bedrock.

Even as food was being grown, so were drugs, hidden away from sight, causing an explosion in production of product for the gangs in the city. This, in turn, led to an increase in crime as the product was moved and protected from other gangs. Which in turn meant that the police got more involved in areas, as the new markets got hit by both petty thieves, or were 'protected' by the gangs; this again, in turn, brought the Protectorate in as powered gang members were brought forth.

Plus, the Merchants had been an issue from the beginning, none of them liking the fact that what they viewed as 'theirs' was being checked out by 'outsiders.'

The cops taking more time to deal with the druggies wasn't helping matters, either.

This lead to the Merchants pushing back against the restoration of the Docks, their 'home,' which resulted in what one would expect.

PRT officers and members of the Protectorate clashed multiple times with Skidmark and Squealer, resulting in several buildings being outright destroyed by the Tinker's 'vehicles.' Deaths happened from gunfire from the villain's followers, several being random passersby.

This all made people more wary about the new building projects.

From there everything snowballed downhill.

Other areas than Brockton had gotten hit by Tāwhirimātea, and many weren't as… downtrodden as Brockton Bay. So, the business that were eyeing the Docks areas moved on; even if they lost the train routes and the easy sea access, they weren't worth the cost of having the unholy child of a big rig, a tank, and a monster truck plow through the building.

One by one, other business followed, which led to the city become less active in the Docks because there was no longer a reason to fight over it. Plus, while the focus had been on the Merchants, the Empire and the ABB moved to exchange blows, pulling attention further away from protecting 'potential' reconstruction.

It all trickled down from there.

"-nough about the band, what you lot want Rap to hear is the song! So le-"

The markets were all but abandoned and the citizens began to fear once more, from the Merchants, seeking an easy hit, to the Empire, pushing everyone that wasn't white out of 'their' markets. The hope of new jobs from factories dried up, as the decision was made to settle elsewhere, someplace without gangs fighting over it.

Any good economist would have seen it coming. The jump-start from Tāwhirimātea wasn't enough to stabilize the city, it was all a placebo; the industrial base was just too far gone for a single surge of renovation to restore. There just wasn't a foundation for the attempted recovery of Brockton bay, and so it all fell apart in a little over a year.

Remnants remained however, some of the factories remained online, the DWA-controlled areas expanded to deal with the new exports and imports. Some of the train lines were put back to use, as well as some of the docks themselves. There were even a few markets still active, most of them in ABB territory, who took advantage of the (temporarily) rising economy to bring some of their culture back from the dead.

Of course, this meant that the Empire (and to a far lesser degree, the Merchants) started stepping up their game. All of them soon started vying for the floundering DWA positions, as well as seeking to take the areas that they 'controlled.'

And while Danny worked hard to keep the gangs separate from the DWA, even as the organizations power started to fade once more, it was hard to do when supplies still needed to be shipped in and out from the city, and from the new Asian District. He couldn't push aside all the contacts that came his way, he needed to keep the DWA up and running after all.

Plus, given the man's reputation, and the reputation of the DWA in general, there was still an influx of people going down to the DWA offices looking for jobs, which meant that Danny needed to try and supply those people with said jobs, if only to keep the DWA afloat and in a position of power.

All of this worked perfectly for Lisa, as it meant, provided that Coils information was right-

It was.

-then she would have yet another card to play against the snake-themed villain, as well as gain some leverage against the Protectorate.

'Course, getting the right plan together would take some doing; Coil was not considered much of a threat by most for a reason.

"-eping me awake. It's the house Tap telling you to close your ey-"

Blocking Coil from gaining more power was a step, one that Lisa could do easily; she just needed to make sure to cover her involvement.

Doing this would mean that Coil would have to expend more effort and time in getting control over the city, allowing Lisa to (hopefully) maneuver others into position to again delay or even derail Coil.

Sure, if she played her cards right, she would be able to get the PRT to do this all for her, but Lisa really didn't want to become a laptop to the PRT.

Part of it had to do with the fact that she liked her team, even with their flaws. Another (slightly bigger) reason was that she just liked being a free agent more than working under someone (expressly someone like Coil).

Plus, if the PRT didn't manage to get the damn snake, then there was a chance that he would go after her.

And if the PRT did catch Coil, then Lisa would miss her opportunity to put a bullet in Thomas Calvert's head.

Or at least give the order for someone to do it.

(Plus, she knew that the PRT would just squander the resources that Coil had; she could do so much more with it)

It also helped that whatever Taylor was doing seemed to be messing with Coil's power, to the point that Lisa was actually going through with her high-risk plan. She never would have done this if Coil was working at one hundred percent.

But now… he was making mistakes; and not just little ones, either.

One thing that Lisa had noticed when working with Coil was how sure of his orders he was, as if he knew how things would go, or had a plan in place to make things go his way.

From her 'recruitment' (and she still felt chills over how easily he backed her, her, into a corner, finding out who she was and where she was), to her team, to even what jobs they did, Coil clearly had a Thinker Power. A good one too.

It was little things, tiny really, to the point Lisa almost thought Coil was losing it. But her power… her power was saying something else.

Like he would ask for her to do something, then be surprised when she did it, or having slightly different information than her, or even changing his orders right in the middle of a mission, or being surprised by things she'd done (on his own orders, no less).

It was almost as if he whatever Thinker power he had was messing up or messing with him.

"-ell her that I miss our little Tap talks; Soon it will all be over, and bur-"

Frankly, Lisa was surprised that he was even letting Taylor live. She thought for sure that he would have had her killed by now, but at the same time…

Coil was nothing if not a planner, she hadn't lied about that to Taylor. That didn't mean that Coil could change his mind on a whim and still have her killed in a moment however.

But, hopefully, she could get her plan fleshed out and working before that happened.

(Because it was mostly an idea at this point, one that needed to have its individual parts checked before it could be put together)

All she needed was for things to work out just right and…

"Careful Little Mouse, or else you'll get caught in your own trap."

Lisa blinked at her smiling self who was sitting backwards on the couch, the maniacal grin being made further off putting by the glowing eyes.

"What would you do then, hmm? Coil doesn't take betrayal lightly, we both know that."

As the figures voice finished its reverberations around the room, it took several moments for Lisa to react, moments she spent open mouthed and staring. With a click of her teeth, she shifted her face into her normal grin, even as she glanced around the room.

"-on't know if I am wrong or right; Your mind is playing tricks on you m-"

"Well, this is unexpected," she began, crossing her legs and placing her hands on her knee, all to hide the fact she was reaching for the gun underneath the table. "I like the look, but yo-"

Eyes widened, as her power began to work on overtime, pulling information from the room. In the background, the song from The Nexus continued to play.

"Aww, but the Little Mouse has already been caught."

A smile, unnatural, despite the face it was attached to. A tilt of the head, hair swishing silently as it shifted in place.

"So now the Little Mouse seeks a way out of the labyrinth, while still clinging to her stolen cheese."

There was a flicker of dark light, as Lisa's double moved from the couch, to lounging across the table in front of her. Behind it, a trail of black tendrils wisped through the air for but a moment, before they faded into nothingness.

"But you're a clever one, aren't you? Wonder what you'd do…"

Inquisitive, eyes seeing her, but never shifting. The figure laughed, sharp, quick; a child's laugh, carefree, yet… menacing in a way that no child should be.

"I might just keep an eye on you, Little Mouseketeer. It will be interesting to see what alignment you take."

The eyes… like pits of black, with a golden star burning within the center, held Lisa's gaze, pulling her into their dep...

"What are you doing?"

Lisa spun, nearly falling out of her chair. At the door to their hideout, Alec pulled his head back a bit and lifted an eyebrow at her sudden movement. A quick glance showed that her double had vanished, gone just as easy as it had appeared.

"You ok there?" he asked dubiously as he eyed her.

Lisa op-

-uchmadetat didn'teat hasslumpincenter Bitchforgot vistinsecret Sonybrand Brianwouldfreak Coilplanningkidnapping carfulwithtoys bugintv cakeoftru-

-clutched her head as pain just washed over her brain.

To her, it felt like something had just crawled inside her head, and was making a bed of her grey matter.

"The screams all sound the same; Hey!"

"… you're not all right." Alec half asked as Lisa groaned. "Well, that's what you get for staring off into space and letting your power go wild."

As her fellow Undersider walked past her-

-nwaytoea-

-and the table, Lisa staggered to her feet, hands holding tight to her head, as if she could contain the pounding within.

"I would offer you pain meds," Alec continued. "But I know you have some somewhere, and that they don't work with Thinker headaches. Hey, can I change the station on the Nexus?"

-isconcerned, worryedabouther; doesn'tknow/howtoshowit; believesshewillrecover-

… darkness, that was what she needed, a small place where she couldn't see anything to use her power on. The blessed sanctity of her room beckoned…

…Which had notes everywhere, papers, blueprints, hidden files. Lisa practically slammed the door when she shut it, and the bolt of pain in her hand as she all but punched her light switch in trying to turn off the source of light…

-willcall Brian; doesn'twant this tofallonhim-

… and near instantly regretted that decision. For while the lack of light made it harder to user her power, it also meant she nearly dove face-first into the floor when she slammed her shin into something.

Operating on memory, Lisa managed to flop herself into her bed, then rolled herself up in the plush blanket.

It wasn't quite enough to completely turn off her power, but it was enough that she could lessen the tightened shackles she had put on it.

A few seconds of her power reviewing what little it could find around her and then it began to settle down a bit.

… though it might had been an hour for how Lisa was feeling, the upside was that it helped distract her from the unsettling meeting she just had with herself.

For a time.

But as her headache faded, the sounds of Alec playing his video games (but at a reduced volume, see Brian, he wasn't a complete psychopath!), as well as sounds of her some of her other teammates showing up, her thoughts began to spin that way.

… before she was Lisa, back when she was Sarah, when she was but just a kid, back when Reggie was still alive, she had a favorite hero. Most did, it wasn't uncommon or anything, nor was her pick.

After all, Mouse Protector was a popular hero no matter what way you looked at her.

Reggie had called her Little Mouseketeer after a stint involving a store-bought costume; but it had been years since she'd heard the nickname.

And while the fact that her double had known about that greatly unsettled her (such an understatement), it wasn't nearly as bad as what her power had told her.

Or rather, what her power hadn't told her.

Lisa now had a pounding Thinker migraine, knew everything about the state of the couch, the tv, where damage was in the walls, who Alec had been with (distantly, Lisa realized she needed to check that one out, Brian wouldn't be happy with it, but Alec seemed to be better for it), some details about the work she was doing which was very disturbing…

But for the figure that she just spent a minute talking to?

Rap

Nothing.

Tap

It was like her power…

Tap

… didn't even see it.