Interlude 1
A muted cacophony of musical nonsense approached the apartment. Judging by the quiet, yet fast paced tempo—anxiety and adrenaline were what the group was primarily feeling.
Cherie sunk further into the couch as she waited for the rest of the Travelers to enter. They succeeded in grabbing the two stranded members. Likely faced significant retaliation as well.
The door creaked open as the group poured into the room. The group was fairly bruised and battered. Trickster had the worst of it; a makeshift bandage wrapped around his left bicep as blood soaked the cloth.
"Did the plan work?" Noelle, who couldn't see the group due to the mirror's position, asked aloud.
Noelle obviously knew that the plan worked. Else she would've heard it failing when she organized the rescue.
With an amused huff, Cherie tuned out the aggravated group of capes. As it turned out, the two Traveler's didn't do a good job of hiding their nature, and were quickly outed by the PRT.
Noelle coordinated the rescue effort some time after Morgan left for the mirror portal to do… whatever it was he had to do.
"-and if you'd just listened to me, we wouldn't have been caught!" Sundancer fists shook as she barely composed herself. Her anger simmered like timpani drums. Banging left, right, left, right. The sound echoed in Cherie's mind, even with the rest of the Travelers in the room.
Ballistic bit his tongue as he made placating hand motions, stepping between the girl and a tired Trickster. "True, but it worked out in the end. Isn't that what matters?"
The projectile launching cape was nearly as agitated as Sundancer. However, he was clearly better at managing it than the girl.
"What a shit-show," Perdition grumbled under his breath as he took to the kitchen. When he opened the refrigerator door, there was a sudden spike in anxiety. It was so abrupt, Cherie almost mistook it for Morgan's master power.
Perdition slowly turned around, fridge door forgotten. "Guys. We didn't grab any meat."
The room went silent almost immediately. The musical Master glanced around the room. The sounds were starting to meld together and each of the Traveler's song was eerily similar to the other.
"Something happen?"
A familiar voice took over the silence that held the room. Morgan stepped into the living room in a lackadaisical fashion. His song was a soft hum with an unclear beat. The parahuman's thoughts were elsewhere, but he was pushing it aside for the present situation.
"We, uh, didn't grab any meat for Noelle." Oliver informed him. This was the first time Cherie heard the passive man's voice. It matched his current face well enough.
Morgan's song had an unusual pause when he heard the blond's words. Almost as though the music lined up with his thoughts, rather than his emotions. "Ah, right. Don't worry about that. We have plenty of meat on hand."
True to his words, Morgan pulled out the stuffed rabbit from his coat pocket. Cherie suppressed a shiver as the thing's eye twitched.
"If Noelle gets hungry, we can just pull meat out of this rabbit. Considering her condition, I'm sure she has nothing to worry about."
The Traveler's were skeptical, but knew better than to question any further. Fortunately, Morgan knew this as well and spared the group more details.
Clearing his throat, Morgan continued. "Anyway, get ready to pack your stuff. We're heading over to Brockton Bay."
Tired acceptance rippled through the room's occupants. Save for one, who likely had the most backbone of this motley group of young capes.
"Why Brockton Bay?" Noelle questioned with underlying uncertainty.
Some emotions flickered from Morgan. Amusement was the most prominent one.
'Great. Now he's going to start monologuing.' Cherie lamented internally.
"'Why Brockton Bay?', you ask? It's come to my attention that a villain in that city has taken a mirror I left there. So as recompense for his actions, he will be working for me now. Not that he knows that yet, but that's hardly my problem." Morgan shrugged his shoulders as though saying, 'what can you do?'.
— — —
The sound of steel and acoustic guitars reverberated through the car. Cherie sat comfortably in the back seat as she listened to the unfamiliar music.
"Standing in the lonely light of the silver moo~n! Looking over maps of me-mor-ies for the road." Morgan apparently knew the song and wasn't a half-bad singer either. Not as good as some of the professionals Cherie had met, but at least he hit all the notes.
Once the song started fading out, Morgan readjusted the map in his lap. Without glancing at Ballistic, the parahuman rattled off instructions. "-and then you'll want to get off the freeway. Should be a straight drive from there."
Ballistic only grunted, focusing on the road ahead of him.
The group had split up into two different vehicles with Morgan's in the lead. Trickster, Perdition, Oliver, and Genesis took the camper van with Noelle sectioned off in the back.
Noelle had… quite the figure. Cherie had heard her feelings of self loathing and the like, but it was still shocking to see the cause. She couldn't help but draw similarities to the few Case 53s she had the opportunity of feeling out.
"I didn't take you for a country fan." Sundancer grumbled in the right most back seat. Her irritation wafted off her like a pair of dissonant flutes.
Leaning into the passenger seat, Morgan looked over his shoulder at the blonde. "I guess? I wouldn't really say this is country though. More like folk. Although, I'm hardly an expert on the subject."
"Right…" Sundancer rolled her eyes. Either she was in a particularly bad mood or she wasn't finding Morgan too intimidating anymore.
'Feisty.'
Cherie could understand if it was the latter. She had done an excellent job so far at regulating the master effect that Morgan placed on the group. And he hadn't done anything particularly horrifying as of late.
Well, there was the whole thing involving the Butcher and Ravager, but Cherie was half convinced Morgan forgot about it.
The aforementioned man raised his brow, but didn't respond. His eyes traveled over to Cherie's and she smiled in response. Coming to his own conclusions, the parahuman turned back to the road and cranked up the radio.
"Chow mein and bowling, Twinkies and champagne. Moon over McDonald's frozen pizza. In the rain."
Cherie did note that it was a little odd that Morgan's song was in tempo with the radio, but decided it wasn't important.
— — —
"Alright. With that settled, you guys can search for a potential base while we grab some lunch. Call Cherie if anything comes up." Stretching his arms into the air, Morgan let out a strained sigh.
The group stood in a parking lot outside of a department store. Trickster, Ballistic, and Sundancer listened to the leader's words. The rest were inside the camper. Either because of mobility difficulties and/or their civilian identities were shaky at best.
Sundancer's eyes briefly landed on Cherie before refocusing on Morgan. "Gotcha, 'boss'."
Giving his blonde friend an odd look, Ballistic put on a smile and nodded. "Shouldn't be too hard. I've heard Brockton Bay has its fair share of cheap buildings. And if that doesn't work, I'm sure we could clear out an abandoned warehouse."
That got a short chuckle out of Trickster, who merely mumbled something about clichés.
'What would they do without me.' A sarcastic thought floated to the forefront of Cherie's mind. She, of course, knew exactly how bad the Travelers would get without her assistance. She also suspected that Morgan did as well.
Said parahuman rolled his shoulders. "Good to hear. Let's get a move on."
And so the group split. Cherie quickly moved up so she was walking shoulder-to-shoulder with the terrifying parahuman. "What are you planning on getting?"
"Pizza. Been a while since I last had some. Hope the Bay doesn't disappoint." Morgan's eyes locked ahead of the two, having spotted the boardwalk. He frowned as a salty breeze brushed past.
Irritation slipped out of his head like a quiet elementary level orchestra. "Not a fan of the beach?"
"I wouldn't say that. Just a small case of consistently getting a runny nose at the place, regardless of the season." He sniffed, sticking his hands into his coat.
Cherie smiled, more to herself than her partner, and reached for her purse. "It's most fortunate that I happen to have tissues on hand, isn't it?"
"I didn't take you for the overly prepared type." Morgan pulled his hand back out and received the wad. "Thanks."
"'I wouldn't say that.'" She mimicked the man in a way she knew was cute. Both hands roughly shoved into her own coat. "Just a small case of keeping your comfort in mind."
A few more feelings leaked out of the stoic parahuman. Confusion, exasperation… Oh! Would you look at that. Was that a hint of embarrassment behind the soundproof walls?
"Mhm…" The music faded as soon as it came and the man was once again lost in his thoughts.
'A shame. Really thought taking a different approach would've been more effective.'
The musical manipulator was keenly aware of her current position. Or at least, as aware as she could with her limited understanding of Morgan's power. And what a power it was. She wasn't sure if he could actually solo the Nine, but she wouldn't put it past him either.
When it came to solidifying this position, Cherie was not confident. Morgan, while not particularly cruel or sadistic, did not hesitate when he wanted someone dead. It certainly didn't help knowing he could pull fates worse than death out of nowhere as well.
If, one day, Morgan decided that he no longer needed the Master, chances were that she wouldn't know it was coming until it was too late.
"You have any particular toppings you want? I was thinking of going with a cheese pizza and a pepperoni pizza. But if that's a bit too plain, we can order a third pizza: half of the toppings of your choice, the other half mine."
Then there was that. Ignoring the mass homicide, crimes against humanity, and kill order, he seemed like a decent guy.
It helped that he was somewhat attractive, although lacking in the height department.
"Why not? I have a couple toppings in mind for our shared pizza-"
The two parahumans had long since reached the boardwalk, so the amount of people had increased significantly. Vendors shouting for their wares; tourists bumbling about in search of capes; and locals just trying to pass the time.
Out of all of the faces was one that held features Cherie would never forget. Pretty boy with curly black hair, wearing too much white.
His sight caught her own and his eyes widened in return.
"Jean-Paul. What a pleasant surprise."
