CH5 - Interlude: Somer's Rock

— — —

"You forget what you want to remember, and you remember what you want to forget." - The Road

— — —

Her head wasn't in the game.

"...Puckered, juicy assholes, all of you…"

This meeting was important, but all she could think about was that she hadn't spoken to Henry— Epsilon— in a week.

Sure, she could have called, or showed up, but she was mad at him. He just barged in for her, then blew off having broken bones, told her to just leave. Asshole.

That's what he wanted, so she did just that. Served him right. Except she couldn't help but worry.

"...You could call us nomadic…"

She knew he was alive, because Coil was still pissy, still asked about him. She lied, saying Epsilon wasn't returning her calls.

Calling him would be like losing, so she waited. And waited. Between that, keeping Taylor in good spirits, all the drama with the ABB… suddenly a week was gone, there was a big meeting, and he still hadn't fucking called.

"...Please, continue as if I wasn't here…"

Not that she would admit to being worried, because clearly he didn't see any problem. Coming in like he did, just as her power was 'helpfully' suggesting that kid was most likely to shoot her

It didn't matter. There had to be something disgusting about him. There was something disgusting about everyone.

Him… her power just hadn't gotten around to shoving it in her face yet. Because he was fucking weird. He was way too old anyway.

When it did, this wouldn't bother her anymore.

Fuck.

"That should be everyone. Seems..."

Abruptly, everyone stopped talking.

Looking up, she saw what had everyone quiet.

It stood over eight feet tall. Matte black.

Every inch was solid metal, parts fitting together seamlessly, with only the faintest of hairline cracks to show that they weren't a single piece. It didn't even have a faceplate. The only apparent exception were vents on the forearms and legs, filled with a dark mesh, and small holes placed around each limb.

Over the body was a thick, baggy vest, made of the same dark mesh, covered in pouches.

No seams, no screws; tinkertech. Design is perfectly symmetrical; low Kolmogorov complexity; appearance was material design factor. Professional design; commercial design; tint is dark blue; surface is matted; stealth design. Military design. Width of joints exceeds 15 inches, protrudes from surface. Servos. Power armor. Meshed vents inconsistent with design methodology; deception. Not weak points. Holes are functional; Mesh vent looks like air intake; like air outtake holes are for air

She closed her eyes and pinched her nose. Took a breath. Looked again.

The imposing machine walked into the pub, oddly silent save for the tortured groans of the floor. It held in it's right hand a equally oversized weapon, a thick, blocky gun of some kind. From the back came a thick cable weaved of that same black mesh, which ran somewhere behind the suit.

Power cable. Thickness is necessary. Cable is superconductive; large diameter indicates current would exceed a smaller cable's critical magnetic threshold. Observable barrel size, interior structures suboptimal for solid kinetic weapon. Energy weapon.

"It seems we have another visitor," Coil said finally. "Or rather, a resident of our city. Epsilon, I presume?"

Lisa felt a rush of anger. Coil wasn't supposed to solve a puzzle before her. Now that he'd raised the possibility, it seemed obvious— even ignoring the strange familiarity of the tinkertech, who else would make a picture-perfect suit of power armor that looked like it just rolled off a military assembly line? It looked more pristine than Armsmaster's, even, and she'd swear that guy lovingly polished his every night.

"You are correct," a dull, synthetic voice said. The deep bass vibrated her chair.

"I'd offer a seat, but I don't think the chair would survive it," Coil said.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Skidmark exploded. "You assholes think the Merchants are gonna just sit over here while some fucking nobody gets offered—"

He went silent as the bulky weapon in Henry's— Epsilon's— hand was lifted slightly, a rising, bone deep hum vibrating through the pub.

"Tattletale was kind enough to explain the unwritten rules to me," the monotone voice uttered. "But I am… flawed. Very proud. I don't appreciate your tone."

Skidmark stared at the humming barrel, and sat back down. The humming faded out.

"...Yes," Kaiser said after a moment. "This meeting is under a truce. Though I can understand feeling… insulted." His tone was condescending, as he nodded toward Skidmark. Despite the fury on his face, the Merchant leader stayed silent.

"I believe this is everyone," Coil said. "Excepting Lung, but I don't think anyone here is surprised by that."

"Naturally. The ABB is the problem, after all," Kaiser replied.

"Yes. Thirty eight confirmed…"

They nattered on, more or less following the threads Coil had either predicted or planted. She couldn't bring herself to care. So long as it was all to script, she was just here as a ornament, Grue being the leader, and all that.

Faultline piped in, making a clumsy effort to sound witty. Not that it worked. Mostly, it was just Coil regurgitating the facts and the Kaiser nodding along like an idiot. Followed by Grue sharing the video.

A show of strength. The video showed everything, from how batshit crazy Bakuda was right up to Park Jihoo melting, and then Epsilon smashing the crowd. It didn't really capture anything bad, and Epsilon's imposing appearance today would only help. The Undersiders faced the crazy bomber, got away perfectly fine, and Epsilon helped them do it.

Okay, maybe Epsilon crashing the party wasn't a plus for their reputation, but when the alternative was being dead, you took what you could get.

Other than Faultline trying to pussy out, everyone agreed to a truce, to cooperate until the ABB were dealt with.

Everything went as Coil predicted. Except, of course, for Henry showing up here.

After not calling her even once. Too busy building tinker bullshit to let her know he was alive, apparently.

"I'll be there," Epsilon said.

She blinked, realizing the meeting was wrapping up. Everyone at the table was shaking hands. Oh well, it wasn't important— she was just here to prove the Undersiders were untouched, not to talk. Grue insisted her talking was a bad idea.

This was all a formality, anyway, they were going to be cooperating—

"I've got a complaint," Hookwolf interjected, and everything went off the rails, because Rachel was… Rachel.

Grue managed to straighten things out, but it was just reminder of how fucked up everyone in the Undersiders was. They weren't that bad— really— but it was in her face. Every day.

It was why she kept retreating to Henry's. The robots weren't 'doing it for their family' while secretly taking the easy way out— maybe it was hypocritical to blame Brian when she wasn't joining the Wards either, but it reminded her of her parents. Everything was clean, perfectly clean. No analysis of sociopath-boy's pizza grease being jammed in her face, only to trail off into incoherent speculation on his maybe-rape-orgies. Silence, not Rachel's all too human willful stupidity compounded by bullshit dog-logic. Like the stellar episode derailing the meeting today.

Taylor was sweet, when she wasn't plotting to betray them, or angsting over how she was betrayed— hypocritical, much?— or not concerning herself with little details like her possible death. De facto suicidal, in other words.

Lisa suppressed a shudder.

She wasn't being fair, of course. They were good people, good enough. That was just the problem. All the little things she was forced to know added up.

Not their fault. She didn't even see stuff like that most of the time. But one slip and bam, reminded Brian would rather be a thug than suffer under government red tape, even for his sister. Boom, Alec is thinking it's a shame she won't put out. Rachel thinks she's weak, just plain can't seem to get how powerful being smart is. Oh, and a side of migraine with all that, thank you very fucking much.

The robots weren't being selfish, or thinking like dogs, or completely fucking apathetic. There wasn't even a speck of dirt to set off her power— there was only so much it could say about identical, immaculate, perfectly formed carbon nanotube panels. The only sound the even, unwavering humming of a few machines. Easy to block, too, because there was even bullshit tinkertech soundproofing between rooms.

And for some reason she still hadn't figured out, she couldn't pick up much from Henry. It was nice, to not know the nasty side of someone's thoughts within five minutes of meeting them.

Even if he was being an asshole.

Even if she didn't believe it would last.

— — —

/AN: A little tattleturkey POV. Skidmark is a canon pussy in this meeting so this is totally consistent for him k