by Louis IX
Check first chapter for disclaimer and global warnings.
Bubbly BubblesI open my eyes.
I'm still locked in my own locker, my feet in the mess I had barely enough time to detail when I noticed it the first time – that was right before Sophia pushed me inside it, head first (thankfully not with my head in the mess). And then they mocked me, among laughter from the onlookers. At least I make people laugh, even as they watch me getting bullied.
And then they left, going to class while I screamed to be allowed out. Begging, even, despite my complete unwillingness to go that far, initially. And kicking at the door behind me. It's not that I'm claustrophobic, but it was really unsanitary, and I could already feel insects moving on my legs.
I was sure I was going to die. I'm still undecided. But, apparently, suffering a psychotic break because of such a situation is enough to gain powers, in my universe.
How do I know? Because the next time I tried to yell, I only produced bubbles – even in the relative darkness of the locker, the vents gave enough light to recognize the transparent and iridescent round shapes.
My power mutes me… or nearly so: when the first bubble pops, I hear the strangled scream I wanted to emit.
Annoyance, if not righteous anger, courses through me at the unfairness of it all. If I was to become a hero, I wanted to become Alexandria! Not a living ad for hiding soap from small children! And how can I leverage this in combat? Will I blow soapy bubbles up to my enemies' eyes to make them hurt just a bit? Lost in my frustration, I want to bang my head at the wall in front of me and scream some more.
Next thing I know, something heavy falls at my feet, nearly impacting one. I yelp in surprise and try to backpedal, only to strike the door again. With a foot, I try to find the thing that splashed the refuse up to my knees, and find a half-sphere of concrete. My fingers explore the wall facing me and find the corresponding hole, level with my head.
It takes me some time to fully comprehend what happened. And then I smile. Approaching the wall closely, I let out a long note, and that "only" pushes a large bubble out.
Next thing I know, I'm almost blinded when sunlight hits my eyes. So much so that I lose control over the bubble and the noise of concrete hitting tile can be heard in the locker, as well as in the bathroom I was now seeing behind the wall.
A bathroom? Good enough for me. I use a few more bubbles to widen the passage and slither through it before opening the stall. Nobody's there, which is normal given the time. I spend long minutes cleaning my sneakers, my socks, even my pants and legs, before feeling clean enough to think about something else – and that doesn't prevent me from wishing for a hot shower something fierce.
But I had other fishes to fry. Namely, the "crime" scene. Do I let it stay that way, risking punishment from teachers because, since it's still my locker, they will think I did it myself? Like the flute. Exactly like the flute, even.
Knowing that nothing would stick to the bullies, I decide to play with their mind instead, by disappearing from the locked locker. And if I can, I'll even remove the refuse and seal the wall up.
It takes some time for me to learn how to do so, but it appears that I can generate the bubbles farther than where my mouth is – which is thankful, as I have no intention of getting near to the sludge ever again. Using those bubbles, I can lift the smelly goop and drop it into the nearest toilet bowl, flushing repeatedly until everything is gone. Even the smallest bits are picked up by the smallest bubbles.
And since the bubbles look like every bubble I have ever seen, it's almost normal to realize that whatever they touch become soapy and slippery. I have to fill a sink with water and send a few bubbles filled with its water to clean that particular aspect off my locker – and then to spread the soapy water alongside the whole corridor, and not only around my locker. I allow myself a slight smile as I entertain the hope that my bullies will slide and trip in the soapy corridor.
And then I rebuild the wall. I wasn't sure I could, but since my bubbles can form and lift the used tampons, there was no logical reason they couldn't do the same with blocks of concrete they had already moved around. And they don't disappoint, forming around the heavy masonry and lifting them back in place, one after the other. Like a three-dimensional puzzle. I have to manage two bubbles at the same time, at the end, to include the half-sphere that fell first, and which I have to replace blindly. But I manage.
I'm not sure of the solidity of the whole thing, of course, but that's when I realize that the rebuilt wall shows no sign of soap anywhere. Summoning more bubbles with the intent of constructing something, I watch them closely and realized that they weren't made of soap, but of glue. The wall wouldn't budge.
And then I head home. I know I should go to class, but, frankly, I was fed up with the place. I have let the bullies walk over me for a whole year (the first months only counted as "discovering your inner victim"), hoping against hope that they would relent. And they escalated up to a murder attempt via biological waste! I may be stupidly optimistic, but there are limits to what I could expect from Emma. And rekindling our friendship is clearly out, now.
I actually shudder, on the bus home, as I consider what would have happened had I not triggered: I would be dead, or nearly so – infections can be quite unhealthy, as I had found out when doing some homework about it (it ended up stolen, of course). Being dead would be… nice, in a way, as I would be reunited with mom. I didn't want to push dad into suicide, though.
The young woman sitting in front of me shudders too, as if by reflex to my own movement, but I ignore it as I stand to leave. I have things to do, after all, and arguments to prepare, because dad will probably be mad. Perhaps at me, for hiding the bullying. Perhaps at the school, too. Probably both, in unknowable measures. I will have to come clean about Emma, too.
"Wait!" a voice calls from behind me, as I start the last leg of my trip home – a ten-minutes walk.
I turn around and squint suspiciously at the young woman. Smaller than me (but I'm already at six feet, so it's understandable), blonde, she smiles but I can't help feeling like a hen facing a fox. I'm also suddenly aware that I can't talk without making bubbles. Or can I?
I don't know, and it's not the time and place to experiment with powers, "outing" myself to strangers – with the way the cape lore has found its way into general knowledge, there are school courses about capes and their vocabulary. And their customs. Mine, now, I suppose.
Trying to get rid of her with a wave of my hand, I turn away and try to accelerate. I'm quite surprised to find her trotting to get even with my longer stride (although I'm quickly tiring).
"I couldn't help notice that you weren't in school." She says. "Since you have a school bag, I thought you were into truancy or something like that."
I shrug, in a "so, what?" approximation.
"And then there are several clues that led me to the conclusion that you have been hounded out of school."
"What are you, a truancy officer, or a private investigator?" I ask, stopping and turning towards her… only to slap a hand on my mouth, my words audible as the bubbles pop, one after the other.
Her grin widens at that, and she takes my elbow to push me to continue walking in the same direction. "Call me Lisa. I'm a cape, like you. And I can help you."
"With what?" I ask, still under my hand – and I find that since the bubbles pop right there, I can speak without the fear of anyone seeing them – still not a viable way to spend time in school, though.
"School, first. See, I got my GED online, and I'm sure you can do it too."
"Home-schooling?"
"Yes. In a way."
"In a way?"
"I'm psychic. It's easier."
"I don't have good grades, right now. And… psychic?"
She shrugs. "My usual joke, yes. Seriously, my power gives me information from the slightest clue, and I know that you have been bullied. Before that, you had good grades, or bad?"
"Well… good."
"Good! I could have helped you cheat, otherwise, but a good head is good to have on one's shoulders."
I smile at this. "Okay."
It's her turn to become suspicious. "What, like this? You won't even ask for what I want in exchange? You think I'm that altruistic?"
"I think that if you didn't want to help me, you wouldn't have followed me home." A pause. "Is that what you need? A home?"
She takes some time to answer. "And to say I'm the one boasting to be psychic. Are you telepathic?"
"No, I'm just pathetic." I reply with a blank face, although still hiding my mouth as I talk. "That was a joke." I ended up saying, smiling afterwards.
"A joke, or a defence mechanism?" she retorts. But then she pushes me slightly forwards as she sees me deflating. "Go on, invite me home, there's much we have to do."
"Now you're going to say you're a vampire, I know it." I mutter. But she hears, and smiles, so I smile, and I let her in.
After granting her a wish for coffee and some snacks, she tells me her story – or parts of it, I suppose. It's only fair, as I just met her. In exchange, I concur about the bullying, and the power. And she helps me come to grips with it: by concentrating on popping the bubbles as I speak, they stay invisible and I can express myself without them. Or I can do the ventriloquism and keep my mouth relatively closed, popping the bubbles on my teeth as they form.
The rest of the afternoon slips by quickly, and before I'm ready, dad comes home.
"Hi, dad!" I chirp, mouth smiling but mostly closed to keep the bubbles from becoming visible.
He's instantly suspicious. "Taylor?"
"I made a friend!"
"Hello, Mr Hebert." Lisa says from besides me.
"You… made a friend." he pronounces, doubt filling his words.
"You don't think I can make a friend?" I ask.
"Yes, but… it's so sudden. And rare! Speaking of which, it's the first time I see you saying that. Isn't high school… a place to make friends?"
"Yes, but… Emma…" I trail off, not really knowing how to broach the subject.
"What about her?"
To make a long story shorter, I end up telling him about the bullying. All of it, only stopping short of my trigger event. He's understandably furious, but also a bit angry at me… only a little bit, because he's literally incensed at himself.
"I should have known! I should have seen it! I should have asked you about your day, every day!"
"Hindsight is twenty/twenty." Lisa speaks up unexpectedly. Dad looks at her, a bit spooked at her haunted tone. Me too. She's clearly visiting unpleasant memories. And then she shakes herself, looks at us, and smiles. "That's why we go forward!"
"All the while learning from past mistakes." Dad complements. "Otherwise, we are doomed to repeat them. So, Little Owl, if anything goes wrong, please speak to your old man. Please?"
"Yes dad." I reply, and hide into his hug. "Speaking of which… the last thing they did was so vile that I was sure I'd be dead. Remember the lesson about capes I had you make me repeat? I think I had a Trigger Event. I have powers, now. I'm a cape!"
He looks at Lisa immediately, but she nods along. "I'm one too."
"Right." I say, keeping his attention. "She helped me come to grips with it."
"You have… powers… I'm sorry, Taylor. I'm so sorry." He sits down heavily. "And to say I promised your mother…"
"What?" I ask. "What did you promise?"
"To keep you safe! Powers gotten in trigger events mean it was a… difficult situation."
"Yes, but it's over, now. And Lisa told me I can take my GED online, so I don't need to see Sophia ever again. Emma, too."
"Right. Emma. I'll have words with Alan, and-"
"Dad! Emma's dad is a lawyer. Who do you think got her out of the many situations she got herself into, at school? That's part of why she's seen as trustworthy by the faculty, too, compared to poor old me."
"All the more a reason for me to throttle him! If he ever knowingly covered her abuse of you…"
"I'm washing my hands of them, anyways." I tell him. "I'd rather stay here, learn and progress at my own rhythm, and graduate as early as possible. And then… I'll see what I can do."
"I'm sorry, Little Owl. What little we had spared for your college years has dwindled with time."
"I'll try for a scholarship, if I can. Barring that, I can still work at some place and make my own way up. I read somewhere that MedHall was recruiting interns… no?" I ask, noticing Lisa shaking her head vigorously.
"MedHall is bad news, if you get involved in it. Multiple clues lead to their top brass being Empire capes."
"How sure of that are you, and why isn't the PRT doing anything about it?" Dad asks, with me nodding along. That was quite an accusation, after all.
"Quite sure, but it's my power speaking. I also inferred earlier that the PRT prefers to keep powerful parahumans in place for when they're needed. Such as Endbringer fights."
"So that may be why they often find themselves back in the street when they're caught." Dad mused.
"That's why they tolerate villains, yes." Lisa says, and I could hear something behind her words.
"You want to become one?" I ask suddenly.
"I thought about it, yes. With my power, I could go to online sites for stock markets, and make a fortune."
"It isn't illegal." Dad says.
"For non-capes, yes." she replies. "Laws were passed preventing capes from doing that. From doing many things, in fact. That's why there are so few "Rogue" capes – and even that name is ominous. The PRT often rattles death statistics among rogues to push new triggers into the Wards."
"Why wouldn't you want to be a Ward?" I ask her. And I want to know, as I thought of going there, right after getting rid of Winslow.
"First, they are more like child soldiers than anything else, especially here." she answers. "Second, they have only one model for teen education: age-related classes."
"I don't know about either, but if the first was true, we'd know about it." Dad notes.
"They have to obey orders from superiors, in a quasi-military structure, and patrol to detect and fight criminals."
"Still, they're the good guys." Dad retorts, while still acknowledging that she may have a point.
"They are also inside a bureaucratic agency with red tape and not enough means to do their job."
Dad says nothing, nodding along. I guess that, at his job, meeting people mired in administrative hell was somewhat common.
The remaining of the evening passes quickly. Lisa doesn't correct his assumption that we met at school, keeping that for the next day. Along with the fact that she was homeless. For now, it's a simple sleepover.
The next day, she comes with dad and I when we head to Winslow for me to get the administrative folder with the data I'll need to start a home-based education program.
I realize that I should have warned dad, because he's soon locked in a screaming match with the Principal. To escape this, I head in the corridor, only to come face-to-face with my tormentors.
"Tay-Tay!" Emma squeals in apparent delight, before her expression turns mocking. "Just the person we didn't want to see, ever."
"I noticed that." I reply. "And I'll even grant your wish by getting my education somewhere else."
"You're leaving?" Emma is surprised, and I can see an undercurrent of uncertainty. I frown at this: it's as if, without me, she would be lost because she wouldn't have her daily dose of punching me. Verbally, of course.
Because the physical dose was Sophia's area. And speaking of the witch with a bee… she manoeuvred to get behind me as I was speaking with Emma, and passed her arm around my throat. "I can finish you now, Hebert. Don't you dare squeal!"
"Hey! What are you doing!"
The last is uttered by a newcomer, probably a senior, but one I've never seen before. He's upon us in three strides, too fast for Sophia to completely disengage, especially as he repeats on her what she was doing on me.
"Release her." he growls. I don't know why, but seeing someone, anyone, but especially a tall, dark, and handsome young man, coming to my rescue… it's like a dream come true.
"Let go." Sophia growls, while still squeezing my own throat, and kicking at me for good measure.
The boy's hold must have been quite painful, though, because I'm suddenly free… only I notice that it's not because she let me go. Instead, it's because she has transformed into a gaseous shape.
I recognize the power immediately, and I'm not the only one. Lisa's already computing several lines of thoughts. Madison is staring, open-mouthed. Emma… is looking around with anxiety. I realize that she knew Sophia was Shadow Stalker, probably from the start. Madison realizes that too and edges away from her, and closer to me – not that I would like the company of a sycophant like her.
Meanwhile, the cloudy shape becomes solid again, and starts delivering more violence upon the boy, becoming gaseous each time he tries to retaliate. Lisa and I try to interfere, but Lisa is quite squishy, and I discover that my bubbles can't be formed with the intent of harming people. A Manton Effect, I believe it's called. Yes, because I wanted to harm her, by removing a hand, or a foot – it's not like parahuman healing doesn't exist, especially for a Ward.
The boy is soon bleeding from deep cuts, because Sophia has taken a knife out and is dishing it out. But he's still positioning himself between us, growling in anger. And, soon, his attempts at grasping the elusive and shadowy figure become less haphazard and more direct. In fact, right as I'm watching, he starts hitting the gaseous shape with the visible effect of her recoiling, and she doesn't seem to be able to pass through him anymore. And I notice shadow tendrils alongside his body, acting as contrails as he moves, and also smoothing his wounds and leaving his black skin intact behind.
Am I watching someone trigger? From Sophia too? Lisa thinks so, and when the boy ends up striking Sophia in a way that pushes her to flee, she hurries to him, whispering things in his ear. To which he nods absently.
On my side of the corridor, Emma is taken aback. And then she reacts with a painfully predicable answer: "Oh my god!" she screams, pointing at us. "They killed Sophia!"
"What is this racket?" Professor Gladly exclaims, passing his head through the door – typical of him, arriving late to the battle. And Principal Blackwell heads out of her office, too, closely followed by dad.
"Taylor and that boy killed Sophia!"
Gladly looks around. "I don't see any Sophia here."
"But she was! Tell him, Mads!"
Madison trembles, and she opens her mouth several times. Only, for whatever reason, she decides to pay her debts instead of following the losing party. "No, Emma. You're lying, like you always do to get Taylor in trouble."
"Is that so?" Blackwell asks.
"No!" Emma exclaims.
"Yes it is." Someone says from behind Gladly. Some curious students followed him out, and one of them was Julia, one of the popular girls, but still always one step removed from Emma. Perhaps she guessed that now was the time to oust the redhead from the top of the totem pole? She ought not to count on me to hoist her up, though. Same as Madison, I'd rather wash my hands of the whole place.
"You can see why I don't want my daughter here." Dad says. "You consistently insisted that she was the troublemaker, instead of… her." he points at Emma with a negligent wave of his hand, a gesture that still seems to hurt my erstwhile friend.
"Oh, very well!" Blackwell utters, lifting her hands in defeat. About why, I wonder, as it isn't like we're paying the school to stay.
"I'll take the home schooling option too." the boy says, right then. "For me and my sister."
"And you are?"
"Brian Laborn. My sister's Aisha."
Blackwell sneers. "Troublemakers, the lot of you. I'll get your files out, but you ought to realize that you'll be visited often, to ascertain of your progress, and you'll be back here quickly if they aren't satisfied."
"To learn, any place will be better than here." Someone says, and I'm quite shocked to realize it's me. Although it came from a bubble, so no one pinpointed it on me – except Lisa.
Blackwell is practically shaking in anger, and I'm afraid that she will rip the files and damn the consequences, but dad is here and takes the three folders from her hands before heading out.
And that's when we realize that Sophia wasn't gone as far as we'd thought. And she brought friends.
"Unnamed parahumans!" comes a stern voice from a hundred feet away. "You are under arrest!"
"That's them!" Sophia yells from her place next to Armsmaster, behind the troopers aiming their strange weapons at us. "Fire! Fire! Kill them!"
"That's a bit excessive, coming from a violent thug on probation!" Lisa exclaims.
"I'm not!" Sophia screams.
"You are violent, and you are on probation. There are dozens of witnesses of you still using lethal arrows despite having joined the Wards."
"What?" Armsmaster seems nonplussed by the whole situation.
"Yes. Too bad that those belong to gangs, right? And that doctors and Panacea can't report them due to patient confidentiality rules?"
"Association with the gangs? You're under arrest!" He has a one-track mind, too.
"What are the charges? Self-defence against a violent thug on probation?"
"I'm not!" Sophia screams again.
"You used a knife on me, while attacking me with your parahuman ability. That's assault!" the boy, Brian, exclaims.
"You don't seem wounded." Armsmaster notes.
He shrugs. "I got better."
"You also unmasked her, and it's illegal to unmask a Ward! You're under arrest!" Damn him, and he was a hero in my mind, too!
"You should arrest her, then." Lisa points out. "Because she outed herself."
"I tire of this." he mumbles, shaking his head and trying to rub his forehead through his visor. Needless to say, it doesn't work that well.
"Get them! Get them! Get them!" Sophia yells incoherently, pushing and pulling at the nearest trooper's shoulder. Given that they're primed to shoot, his weapon discharges promptly, prompting the others to shoot as well by reflex.
Long sticky streams of spongy matter are propelled towards us, and only a yell of fright allows me to push a bubble outside and shield us.
"They're resisting arrest!" one of the troopers yelled, directing his weapon for the containment foam to be sent upwards and land on us from above.
"That's two strikes! Yeah! Take that, assholes!" Sophia cackles madly, before Armsmaster decides to end his headaches early by tazing her into unconsciousness.
Meanwhile, I'm creating bubbles to protect us again, but with three shooters sending from three angles, I'm quickly overwhelmed and we end up like that mosquito in Dinosaur Park: encased in glue.
''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
The Contract…"…is illegal." I hear dad say. I can't see anything, because my glasses are covered in the sticky matter, and they barely removed enough to see our heads. It didn't prevent them from loading us in one of their trucks and delivering us to the PRT for an interrogation. By the highest ranked officer, apparently.
"Listen, you dimwit. I'm the Director, here, and what I say is law. You sign, or you go straight to prison, you and your little wannabe gang."
"That's unlawful imprisonment, too. And we aren't a gang. We barely know each other. You act as if the words of that mad girl had any weight."
"Shadow Stalker is not mad, and she might be on probation but the system is already shaping her up into a good little sold- weap- hero! That's the word. You, on the other hand, are unknown to us. Since all rogues must register with us, and all heroes do too, it means you're villain capes."
"I'm not even a cape."
"That's for us to decide. In the meantime, I get to take control of the minors among you. Our Wards need more spares, I mean warm bodies… or just bodies, in the streets. This city is crumbling already and you don't want to share the pain? I mean, participate in its defence? You must be a gang, then."
"I'm Daniel Hebert, from the Dockworkers' Union. If you persist, I'll have us go on strike, and convince the other unions to join."
"So what? I don't care for dock workers, especially as y'all lack jobs since your temper tantrum with the boats. And if your precious unions go on strike, we'll recruit others willing to do the jobs. It's America, here, land of the brave, land of the free, and the work is free."
"That… not how things work. At all."
"You presume to tell me how my department works? Have some more time in Master/Stranger cells, then. I'm the one with authority on those. And when you'll be out, it will be in chains, too, because I'm sure the inspection teams we sent to your home will find whatever they need for you to get your third strike and head for the Birdcage! Assaulting a Ward? Not on my watch!"
"But-"
"Foam them."
Some time later, we're unceremoniously dumped in cells and then showered with a stinky liquid that liquefies the containment foam. But it doesn't remove it at all, and I have the sudden and unpleasant feeling of wearing bubblegum. Including in my hair. My hair! Long and prized hair, resembling my mom's, always kept from the bullies… only for people of the PRT to damage it beyond saving!
"My hair… My poor hair…"
"I hear you, sister." Lisa mutters, from the cell next to mine.
"I don't understand." Brian says from the other side. "What happened?"
"That was the PRT acting heavy-handed on false information delivered by a Ward that should have been in prison instead of us." Lisa replies.
It doesn't take long for the same Director to see us, one after the other. When my turn comes, she assures me that dad signed something that turned me to the government. And in lieu of my sole remaining parental unit, Director Piggot sends me to the Wards… but not before making me read something that, if you squint very hard, my dad has signed. It's called "non-disclosure agreement" and can compel you (me, in this case) not to speak about things. I'm silenced about everything concerning Sophia. And speaking about her is some offense that can be added to those on my file, upon which event I can be shipped to the Birdcage. Really? Colour me suspicious…
Speaking of Sophia… Shadow Stalker is already in the Wards' room when I arrive, and she jumps upon seeing me, her malicious intent clear. Since she uses her power to go through the couch behind which she was preening, I use my own… and encase her in a bubble. Too bad I sliced through the couch to do it.
It also gives me insights about my power. Since our fight, earlier, I knew I couldn't use it against people in the same way I use it on objects. In clear, the Manton Effect prevents me from amputating people – which is nice because I wouldn't want to cut people without realizing.
Still, apparently, I can surround someone with a bubble. And make said bubble jump around, moving the cloud of angry particles away from me. I learn all the while, and notice that I can send it quite far, quite fast, and it can rebound on walls. Or burst, leaving Shadow Stalker to fall on the floor, panting from lack of breath. I suspect, right now, that she can't breathe while in her other form, and can't transform back if that would hurt her… such as being enclosed in a hard shell. Hard? Well, given that she was incorporeal, anything was harder than her. Including a soapy bubble. Go figure.
"Leave me alone." I tell her. "I'm not the one who attacked first, and you know it. If I get you again, I'll keep the bubble up for twice as much time. And twice again each time. We'll see if you can hold your breath that long." I see her eyes squint and recognize her "thinking" pose. "And if you think of bringing a diver's set, remember the couch." The couch that I'm currently gluing back into itself. It isn't perfect, but it will hold.
"You can't do that!" she exclaims, looking around to try to find allies. None came forward, unsurprisingly. It's both good and bad, since it means that Sophia is as toxic here as she's in school. And since they didn't do anything about any, it means that she has allies in high places.
"You attacked first." I keep reminding her. "Both here and at school."
"You can't speak about what happened in school." she retaliates. "You signed a NDA."
"…which doesn't count when I'm talking to you because you know about things already."
"There are witnesses."
"Those are not witnesses, they're allies, and proceeding without them knowing that you made me trigger will only endanger everyone in the long term."
"You don't get to make those decisions."
"Newsflash: since Nuremberg, militaries have changed, and soldiers don't have to obey orders blindly."
"True." another voice comes from the door. Brian has arrived, and he's a bit confused by the whole situation… but still knowledgeable about History. Or military procedures. Whatever. "Soldiers have to ignore and even fight order they deem contrary to elementary moral."
"But…" Sophia is surprised, but also angry. "Why are you here? I only asked for Hebert to be my plaything. I mean…"
"Someone must have missed the fact that my new power doesn't interact well with yours. I signed myself into the Wards, since I'm now a parahuman… thanks to you."
"That's already two people you pushed to trigger, Sophia. Congratulations." Aegis says coldly, trying to interfere. "Now, I'm going to see Piggot, because there is something fishy here, and I can't lead this team while I don't have crossed all the T's."
"Thankfully, you won't have to." yet another voice comes from behind Brian, and that's Lisa. "By the very procedures the PRT uses for the Wards, the oldest one is in charge. And that's Brian."
"But… I was here the longest."
"Really?" she retorts, before looking towards the smaller Ward, off to the side. "How long have you been a Ward, already, Vista?"
"Three years." the young teen answers. "More than anyone has ever done in the program. I also spend more time than anyone here, because… I like it, here. Until some people start to fight, that is."
"If you want." Lisa replies, and I remember her power, and what she might get out of regular conversations. I shake my head when she starts to speak again, and she's insightful enough not to blurt everything in the open. Whatever that is, I have no clue, but Vista seemed ashamed about something. Personally, I wouldn't want to have my secrets aired to anyone, especially Sophia, and I guess that she wouldn't either. "So, oh intrepid Wards Leader, what do we do about the situation?" she asks. And since Brian doesn't seem to know, she continues. "Do we contact your immediate superior, who is not Director Piggot according to the Wards Charter?"
"Really?" "Who is it?" comes from the other Wards. "You can't!" is Sophia's denial. Strange. It's almost as if she wants Piggot to lead the Wards. As if it gave her some advantage.
"That's someone in the Protectorate. A parahuman. We are not child soldiers in a military organization, and shouldn't be integrated as such. We are junior capes needing role models closer in power to what we can do."
"But no one was designated, from the Protectorate, to head us." Aegis almost whines. I can see that he likes the idea, though.
"In that case, the proper person for that role is the local head of the Protectorate."
"Which means Armsmaster." Kid Win complains dejectedly.
"The Halbeard?" Clockblocker asks. "The man-with-no-smile?"
Kid Win nods at this. "As a Tinker, he's my designated mentor, and I've seen him only once to discuss this. He spent five minutes denigrating my work, and left."
"Ouch." I say.
At the same time, Sophia snorts and mutters "Pussy."
"Go ahead." Lisa tells Aegis. "Contact him."
We all follow him to the Console area, where he presses a few buttons. Soon, the hero's voice emerges from the various speakers. "Armsmaster here."
"Aegis. There are… questions we would like to ask to our superior."
"Is Director Piggot unavailable?"
Lisa pushes Aegis to speak in the microphone. "According to the Protectorate Wards Charter, someone in the Protectorate must head the Wards program in general, and each Ward must have a designated Protectorate hero as a mentor."
"Who is this?"
"Hi, I'm one of your three new Wards, conscripted illegally by Director Piggot, and requesting that you pull your head out of your… armour… and check what they are doing to the younger parahumans you should lead."
"I can't lead the Wards. I have too many responsibilities as it is, what with my Tinkering, and… I told Piggot this, years ago, and she agreed to take care of the problem. Now, if you have something to say, talk to her." *click*
"That's… unsurprising, really." Kid Win says.
Behind me, I hear a commotion, and notice Sophia running around the lounge, in angry pursuit of Vista, who's holding… her phone? The miniature hero comes to us and gives the item to Brian. "She called Piggot. With my power bending space, I heard her complain about losing her victim. I picked it before she could say more."
Brian pockets the thing and stares at Sophia, arms crossed. She walks back and forth, snarling like an animal. "You won't get away with this!"
"What can we do?" I ask. "If she called her, she'll be here in no time. And she'll throw me, and perhaps you too, in a cell for insubordination and mutiny."
"What do heroes do when facing someone who escalates… like Lung?" Clockblocker asks. "We try to keep him contained, call for reinforcements, and escalate ourselves if we can."
"Exactly." Lisa says. "Now, I don't know what to do with little miss Sunshine here-"
"Hey!" comes from Vista, probably tired of being the butt of all "little" jokes around the place.
"I wasn't speaking about you, but the vigilante on probation with the sunny disposition, here." Lisa waves towards Sophia.
The angry cape's snarl deepens. "I'll get you for racism, too."
"I was speaking about your disposition, my dear. Not your skin. Try to learn a little, in school, instead of playing the bully with your powers."
"How do you even know- Hebert!" she starts a lunge towards me, but bubbles burst between us, reminding her of what could be her fate.
"I didn't say a thing." I reply through the bubbles. "NDA, remember?"
"Apparently, you didn't sign one, or conveniently ignore it as you see fit." Lisa adds, her comments aimed at Sophia again.
"How can we even escalate?" Aegis asks. "Unless you mean reaching higher in the organization?"
Lisa nods at him, turning her back to the probationary reprobate – and trusting Brian to contain her if needed. "There is someone above Armsmaster, in the Protectorate. Someone you might know, who travels quickly, and who seems genuinely interested by being a hero instead of playing a role like his two coworkers… in the Triumvirate."
"You mean… Legend?" He asks, only to frown when Lisa nods again. "I can't call him. Me, a Ward? Calling a member of the Triumvirate?"
"There's no one between Armsmaster and him, in the chain of command."
"Besides, if what Lisa said is true, I will be the one to call him." Brian asserts. "Except he doesn't know me."
"He doesn't know me either." Aegis interjects.
"Yes, but you exist as a hero already. I don't have a costume, or even a name."
We all ignore Sophia's sudden snort and "Losers" comment.
Aegis straightens up suddenly. "I'll do it. Besides, it's a hero's job, right?"
Lisa smiles. "Atta boy!" she exclaims, making Aegis blush – and it's visible since, as we're in the Wards' quarters, they all only wear disposable masks.
"Hi, this is Legend-" the recognizable voice says, only to continue with "-'s voicemail. You can leave a message."
Lisa hurries to grab the mike, right then, speaking clearly but quickly. "This is the Wards team from Brockton Bay. For years, the local Protectorate head has relinquished control of the team to the PRT, and they conscript Wards like soldiers. Director Piggot is currently threatening three of us with prison, Birdcage, and court martial. Please help."
In the few seconds she needs to say all this, I look around to see why she rushed so. Sophia isn't there anymore, and there's a commotion behind the door – she must have gone through it.
"This is Aegis. I confirm that Armsmaster was contacted, and admitted deferring his duties to the PRT." Aegis adds to the message, at Lisa's prompting. I suppose that Legend can have access to voice recognition software, and Lisa's isn't known to him yet.
"This is Kid Win. I confirm too." the junior Tinker adds.
"Clockblocker's in the place. I confirm three."
The jokester's last words are lost in the din coming from the door – apparently, we had just enough time for this short message because the doors only open after a delay. And, once opened, we have the displeasure of seeing a pleased Piggot, with Sophia grinning behind her.
"Wards, this is your reckoning! Foam them!" she says, the last going to the troopers.
Up until now, Vista was dithering. Understandably so: if the Wards are her safe place, as deduced by Lisa, she doesn't want to jeopardize that. At the same time, she knows that half of the reasons for this being true come from her "co-workers"… except Sophia.
Facing the choice of staying with Shadow Stalker or the others, she makes her mind up quickly and steps to us, crossing half the room again. Turning around, she manipulates space so that the incoming foam is trapped as if between two layers of invisible wall. Since the thing hardens quickly, it forms a wall. And Clockblocker touches it afterwards, freezing the whole thing in time for the time being.
Lisa seems to know what to do, then, as she directs me towards a specific wall. Understanding rapidly, I start making bubbles to hack at it, depositing the round balls of concrete inside instead of letting them fall outside.
Shadow Stalker doesn't seem to care about our continued well-being, and even life, as she emerges from the ceiling and starts shooting. Vista takes a bolt in the shoulder, and Lisa one in the gut. And these are not tranquilizer bolts either.
Brian seems to do something with his power, and soon the ceiling is bathed in darkness. Given his shout, it doesn't prevent Shadow Stalker from going through, but she's quickly disoriented. Lisa asks him to tell us where she is, and he does – apparently, he can see through it.
"She's just above the Console." he yells. Vista winces because she turns too fast, but she still works her power and increases the space there. That leaves enough space for Aegis to try an interception flight. I look that way too, and when she starts to become visible, I trap her into a bubble again. Or I try, because Aegis tried to grab a falling Sophia. She turns incorporeal again right before hitting the Console – a heavy piece of furniture six feet high and wide, and thick enough for her to hide inside. That's where I trap her into a bubble. Or try to. The presence outside disrupts my concentration quite handily.
"What's happening here?"
I recognize the voice, speaking through the hole I started to make in the wall. It is even large enough, now, for his light form to flow through.
And then Legend is among us.
In the relative silence, I wonder what to say, especially as Lisa is badly hurt. Someone decides to jump the gun, though… as it were. Freed from my bubble, Sophia moves sideways, and shoots the first target she finds… which is Legend's backside.
In a reflex motion, the hero turns to light and throws his special lasers at his attacker. His lasers which turn around obstacles and freeze their targets. Yes, powers are bullshit.
"There you are!" comes from the wall of containment foam. Apparently, throwing the dissolving solution at the "wall" creates enough of an aperture for Piggot to see… and be seen. Her smile is hideous, especially when she sees Sophia prone and immobile. "On murder charges, no less! Against a Ward! Gang members have been to the Birdcage for less!"
"Have they, now?" Legend solidifies in front of her. "Especially when said Ward attacked them… and me? Are you so daft that you can't see a case of self-defence? Or are you so in need of cannon fodder that you conscript people that look at your pet project sideways?"
"What pet project?"
"The fact that I move like light allows me to read things faster, too. I browsed the entirety of your file, Emily, as well as hers – I was forced to, because there were many inconsistencies in your file regarding her. Such as keeping her as a Ward despite accounts (buried, but existing) of her still using lethal ammunition on gang members."
"So what? They're gangs! Villains! And if they're capes, so much the better! The world doesn't need capes anyways! You overgrown children damage everything you touch!"
"You do, Emily. That's on you."
"Foam him! Foam them!" she was completely incoherent, now. "Or better than that… kill them!"
And she pulls her own pistol, kept on her on all occasions, and start shooting at the heroes. That's when Armsmaster comes behind her. Seeing her shooting at a wall of containment foam behind which he can only see some light, he immediately assumes that it's someone like Purity there and doesn't hesitate to shoot his current halberd's ammunition.
Legend is quick to move, though, and he intercepts the projectile, only to have it emit smoke. I take it in one of my bubbles and throw it outside, while Aegis continues to act as a literal meat shield for us, tanking the bullets. It's not an easy view, but I know that his power will allow him to stay alive whatever the case. Besides, Vista isn't slow on the uptake and redirects the following volleys to the ground. She's quite the godsend, as the wall of containment foam stops being frozen in time and collapses.
Kid Win seems to see Armsmaster in a much more negative light than the others, and I realize that his story was that of a failed mentorship, like a betrayal. Yelling incoherently, he jumps the foam to charge at Armsmaster, trying to prevent him from shooting again. Except that the man is following a program on his HUD and doesn't register Kid Win as friendly. The armoured gauntlet strikes the teen's head with Brute force, breaking bones and certainly stopping the assault. It also serves as a wake-up call for the man. "What have I done…" he whispers, and then looks at Piggot. "What have you done?"
"Only justice." the deranged woman snarls, and she then shoots Kid Win.
The next thing Armsmaster knows, his halberd is thrown right through Piggot's wide body, pulling her weight with is as she ends up pinned to the wall, her spine broken. She's only short gasps away from expiring.
Then, unheeding of everything around him, he picks Kid Win up and runs away. I can hear him bellow security codes to hasten the elevator's arrival and departure… with a frantic "I can save him! I must!" interspersed between words.
"Gentlemen…" Legend utters, seeing that only troopers remain. "Drop your weapons."
"You're not Legend!" one said. "Legend wouldn't oppose the PRT! You're a Changer, a Stranger, or Legend is Mastered."
The man of light sighs as bullets go through him ineffectually – with Vista still redirecting them so that they wouldn't hit anyone important… meaning that she was slowly working the kinks of her power to have the bullets make U-turn. "I tire of this."
Lasers shoot from his fingers, and the squad is soon frozen in their positions: shooting. In the Wards' room.
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AftermathThankfully, the next person to enter doesn't attack him on sight. "Legend? What are you doing here?"
"And you, Miss Militia?" he asks, taking notice of her lowering the weapon she has prepared. Soon, it turns back into a knife and is holstered in the proper sheath. That's when I notice that the hero's outfit is mostly empty holsters and sheaths for various weapons. And her weapon jumps from one to another.
"I was summoned. Piggot called all heroes because the Wards were Mastered. Velocity is down, but Assault and Battery are coming."
"Recall them. Piggot was a bigoted bully, who would rather see the Wards self-destruct rather than follow proper procedure and leave the Wards to the Protectorate. Armsmaster killed her when she shot Kid Win."
The patriotic hero has nothing to say to that, and could only move her jaw wordlessly.
"They are Protectorate Wards, and it isn't just a name." Legend insists. "Leaving them with the military branch was foolish. And, ultimately, criminal." She starts, at that, and he looks at her. "Not belittling your experience, of course."
"Was Piggot Mastered, then?"
"No. She acted of her own free will. Have you not seen her act out of line? Ever?"
"Yes, there were moments where I felt hatred from her. I thought it was for me, personally, but I discussed with Assault and Battery, and they concurred. Armsmaster said not to worry, though…"
"You should have done like the kids, and aimed higher. Armsmaster has zero social skills, and you know that. Even less than that if he prefers to go in battle following a program that has him punch an unarmoured Kid Win with full power. And relinquish children to become soldiers."
"I'm… sorry. I have no words. How are the others?"
"We need to have some healing, one of them was shot in the belly. Vista through the shoulder."
"Piggot did this?"
"No. Shadow Stalker."
At this, whatever visible part of Miss Militia's face crumbles in anguish. Remorse, anger, and all similar emotion battle as she rewinds history in her mind, trying to find moments where she could have acted differently, towards a different ending.
"Hindsight is twenty-twenty." the man says gently. "Now, it's either a move to a hospital, post-haste… or I heard that this city boasted the best parahuman healer in the world. Is she available on such a short notice?"
"I'll… call her. Panacea, that is."
"And my dad?" I ask. Seeing their questioning gaze, I forge forwards. "Piggot put him in the cells, downstairs I suppose, those with transparent walls?"
"She put children there?"
"And my dad. She wanted to make him sign me away to the PRT. Or so she said."
Legend sighs, and then pulls a phone. "I won't be able to leave until everything is sorted."
"Sorry." I say contritely.
"It's not your fault. Should you be the pebble which starts the avalanche, even, it's not your fault. Someone threw you." the intense look I was given turned sheepish, all of a sudden. "Or so it goes, I think. I don't remember all my quotes perfectly."
"Permission to hug you, sir?"
He lifts an eyebrow. "If you need to ask permission for this, you are too far gone in this military scheme, I think."
I hug him. I'm taller than him. What?
"Heroes who fly always seem taller than reality would assume." he says sheepishly.
"Hello?" an unknown voice comes to us from outside. Outside the building, that is. Several stories in the air. "Someone asked for healing for the Wards? Can we go through this, or do we have to make the whole walk around?"
A bubble took care of widening the passageway enough to let Glory Girl enter, with her sister Panacea in her arms. Both look at the carnage, and wince.
"Sorry about the state of affairs." Legend speaks up. "Piggot and Shadow Stalker turned against the other Wards. Armsmaster has left with Kid Win, and I must follow them. Miss Militia will keep onlookers out of your hair." The aforementioned woman nodded and took position after the doors, where some discussions were soon heard, along with exclamations.
Meanwhile, we underage capes try to mend our wounds. And while Panacea does her shtick, I use my bubbles to reconstruct the wall.
"I see you have already trained your power a bit." a deep voice comes from behind me. Brian's.
"Yeah." I blush, fidget, and almost miss my next piece.
"I'm sorry that you got bullied for so long." He says intently. "I was just here for a short time, and I triggered right away."
"Mine was just the day before that."
"Really? I don't see how you could have weathered it that long. She would have killed me."
"She wasn't that bad, before." I notice I'm defending her and wince. "She was bad, but that hadn't reached lethality… before."
"She was certainly touched in the head, though."
"I'm… not sure she's dead. Legend's lasers… they act weirdly."
"If she isn't, she has much to answer for." he says menacingly, before leaving me and sitting on the floor next to the frozen Ward. His eyes are on Sophia, and I realize that he intends to stay there until he's sure she's dealt with.
That leaves me with my wall, and with a sight of the other people when I turn around after finishing it.
"Is Dean alright? Gallant, I mean. I don't see him anywhere." the flying brick was asking, unheeding of so casually outing a Ward – although, knowing her (from what can be read on PHO and elsewhere), it isn't surprising: subtlety doesn't seem to be one of her strengths.
"Heerr's howrme." Aegis replies, the voice mixed with disturbing whistling and gargling – I guess speaking with your trachea open and bullets wounds everywhere can be disturbing. "Sowrry"
"Come here, Aegis." Panacea says. A touch later, the visible wounds are closed. "Come see me when the bullets are gone, so that I can check for infections."
"Thank you. Lisa here should have been first. She's been shot in the abdomen."
"Lisa?"
"New Ward. We haven't even reached the part where a name is established."
"How can you be introduced to people in masks when you don't wear one?" Glory Girl asks, her eyes on her phone, where she's messaging someone intently –Gallant, I guess. Since her attention is on the phone, she doesn't seem to care that nobody answers.
Meanwhile, Panacea treats Lisa, quite easily. And Lisa watches her intently, opening her mouth several times to speak, but stopping as many times. "What is it?" the healer ends up asking.
"Are you adopted?" Lisa blurts out. "I mean… this is rude, and you just healed me. I'm sorry."
"No, and you're right. It's no mystery, even if we don't speak much about it."
"Alright, alright. Sorry I asked. I shouldn't always blurt the first thing that goes through my head."
"You mean you have Tourette's? Tourette's Syndrome?"
Lisa winces. "Not quite. I just have these flashes of insight, and it's difficult to not reveal them to the world."
Panacea wants to say something, but then she notices that Lisa's eyes go to Glory Girl a couple times, before looking back at her. She blushes, and Lisa's smile widen.
"Err… Panacea?" Aegis asks. "Vista still has a bolt in her shoulder, and it doesn't look good."
The healer almost jumps out of her skin before whirling towards the youngest Ward. And then pales. "Oh, my. I hoped I had seen the last of this."
"When?"
"When Shadow Stalker used those against gangsters." she says, holding up the bolt she has extracted from Lisa.
"You mean, when she was a vigilante?"
"No, I mean last week. Don't you guys read my reports to Piggot? Well… now that I know she was against you guys, and with her, I can see why she would bury this."
"Do you think she was… with her?"
Panacea becomes slightly green at that. Whatever you want to say, there was cringe-worthy material, there, and we all tried to think of something else to talk about.
"This is worse than what I thought." Panacea suddenly says, her mind's eye around Vista's wound. "She shot them while incorporeal, and the bolt fused with the area it landed in. I had only a few of them, only recently, and had to remove everything from the area: bone, tendon, muscle… everything was bloated. Obstruction in blood flow can be deadly, you know?"
"What?" came from several people, including Vista.
"But don't worry, I'll put everything back, and in order. Including…" Panacea's eyes go round and Vista tries to shush her discreetly. The healer opens her mouth to scold her (probably about keeping secrets from her healer), only to see Lisa from the corner of her eyes. And then she nods. "Yeah. Everything."
Panacea saw Lisa, but the truth-teller wasn't watching her. She was looking towards me, because I was holding a rolled up stack of sheets, and used them as one would to scold a dog: tapping Lisa's nose, I was whispering "Bad. Tattle, bad." too.
That's when a dull sound reverberates through the whole building… and the lights come out.
"Oy!" comes from the entrance, and we can see Assault entering, visible due to Battery's costume emitting light (indicating an almost full charge) behind him. And behind her is Miss Militia, looking everywhere through the IR scope affixed to a handgun. "You kids alright?"
"Yeah." was the general answer. "What was that?" Aegis asked, floating towards the three adults.
"We don't know yet. Given the shockwave, I think it came from downstairs."
"What is there, downstairs?" I ask.
The three adults and the three remaining Wards look at themselves in thought – they know the building best. Still, Assault is the one who seems to have gone everywhere, and also the fastest at listing things. "Cafeteria, rest room, infirmary, testing room… no. Gift shop, administrative openspace…" He turns to Battery, and the two of them say the next piece at the same time, paling at the same time too – weird: they act as if they're married, or something. "Armsmaster's secondary workshop."
If someone can see the "love tap" Battery gives Assault right now, they won't be able to imagine them as a couple: the kick she gives him propels him out of the room, and we can hear him rebound several times, including a moment in which he opens the door to the stairs, only to bound down them. A bouncing ball made human.
"Can we do something?" Aegis asks as the two adult women leave as well.
Miss Militia stops at the door and looks around. "You've done enough. Stay alive. Keep an eye on those frozen, as well as the door."
"And if the building collapses?" he asks.
She almost smiles at that. "You and your worst-case scenarios… If the building collapses, I thing you'll have ample warning time and means to escape. Right?"
She's looking at me, now. I think about the wall and my bubbles, and nod. Vista nods along, and I realize that, yes, opening holes is good, but actually stepping out of a crumbling building could be dangerous when one doesn't have the curb practically one step away. Besides, I'm sure that she can open wide holes faster than I can: she only needs a small one to start with.
I look around, and realize that, despite Piggot's initial needling, we could have a good synergy, together.
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Legends in the makingAfter a while, the lights come up again, and people show up again. A few orderlies remove the frozen forms of Shadow Stalker and the PRT troopers – they get manacled, too, and Sophia got special ones. With a bit of help from yours truly, so as to remove her from the wall, they also took Piggot's corpse.
Legend comes back up as well, the three adults heroes in tow. Without a word, they take place at the table – the Wards are a junior hero team, and they do have a big-ass table. Not enough chairs, though, but we manage.
"Armsmaster is in a coma." Legend says, holding his hand to prevent us from interrupting with either good or bad things, no one knows. Hey, the guy attacked us! "There are files in his lab, as well as medication, concurrent with chemotherapy for a brain tumour. Apparently, it has gone on for a long time."
"So that's why-" Clockblocker started, his normally cheerful nature muted… only to be blocked by Aegis.
"That doesn't excuse-"
"Stop." the Light bearer says, requesting (and obtaining) full cooperation and attention with a single word – he was the charismatic one, in the Triumvirate. "I thank you to have brought this to my attention. You have fought well, too. There will be changes, in the near future, and the first and most important one, for you, is this: the Wards program of Brockton Bay returns within the Protectorate. The local PRT is disbanded until another one can be formed: most of the employees worked several jobs at the same time."
"Moles." Assault explains, when he sees incomprehension from some of us. We nod.
"As such, PRT operations will have to be coordinated from Boston. Simple operations such as patrols and first response will be given back to the police departments. A few heroes will move around the country to help and support you – we hope that, once you graduate, you can pay us a visit too." He smiles, and we do too. "You are now, as a group, under the leadership of Battery, here, while Miss Militia will replace Armsmaster as Head of the Protectorate. Battery will soon assign you a mentor among the heroes, a mentorship that goes both ways: if you feel your mentor doesn't care for you, you'll be able to say it and change."
"Sir? I mean… Legend?" Aegis asks. "What about… Kid Win? And that pulse?"
I hear slow but heavy footsteps nearing the Wards room, from outside, but I'm too interested by Legend's answer to look around. I'm not the only one. In fact, only Lisa turns around.
"Ah, yes." Legend replies. "Both are linked, in fact. Armsmaster prepared a failsafe measure for himself, should he feel himself slipping too far from reality. He used that for Kid Win. Unfortunately, activating that set of measures pulled energy from everywhere around, turning off the life-saving systems he had in his own armour."
"What is it?" someone asks. "What's this measure?"
"That would be… me." a deep voice intones from the door.
We turn as one, and see a tall and large man. Cropped hair. Defined jaw with the infamous Armsmaster's beard. Muscles everywhere. All clad in a biker's outfit.
"I'm back." the man says, quite simply. In fact, he speaks with Armsmaster's voice, had Armsmaster's chin… but was probably taller than the man was, outside of his armour.
"Holy shit, he did a terminator!" comes from Clockblocker.
"Indeed." Legend replied. "He duplicated himself, with robotic parts… which is not far from duplicating himself, period: he already had prosthesis for several parts of his body. He did lose them before Panacea triggered, you see. On top of his medicines, he drank various fluids not normally ingested by humans, because his digestive tract was failing badly." A sigh. "He was really close to the machine. And, apparently, the last missing part was the brain. And he chose to save Kid Win's instead of himself. Despite his recent faults, do not forget that."
"I won't, of course." the cyborg intoned.
Assault, like Clockblocker, was still in a surprised state that made him blurt questions haphazardly. "You mean… you're Kid Win, in Armsmaster's body?"
"I'm Kid Win, in a mechanized body created in the likeliness of Armsmaster's. I have the latter's appearance, somewhat, and the former's mind and memories. Including my death: I remember his punch crushing my skull, and Piggy shooting me. I was dead. Now I'm not. I speak with Armsmaster's voice, but I'm not. I'm Kid Win… but I can't be called that anymore. Or go to school. It would be too weird."
"How does it feel to be a man, man?" You can count on Clockblocker to try to defuse a situation with humour.
"I don't know, you tell me." Pseudo-Armsmaster replies in a deadpan tone. "He hasn't done anything on that front. You think a practical eunuch obsessed with efficiency would do something about that? Think again."
Everyone winces at that, before trying to think of something else. "Have you thought about a new name? And costume?" Aegis asks, the question directed both at Kid Win and the adults in the room. "I mean… seeing someone looking like Armsmaster will lead people to assume you're him. And they will ask about Kid Win's whereabouts. My god, your parents!"
"Mister" Win nods at that. "They are warned about a complication and are coming here. We'll meet and discuss it calmly."
"How can you be so calm?" Vista asks.
"I'm not. But Armsmaster sees no use in panic hormones, so this… body, machine, whatever, doesn't secrete them."
"Are you a living body, or a machine?" Panacea asks, standing up and approaching, her hand forward. "Can I see?"
"Knock yourself out. I mean… yes, of course."
She does, and her eyes widen. "Oh my… he must have studied biology. His specialty is perhaps efficiency, but that doesn't mean he did nothing with wetware. The skin is organic, and an underlying layer supports it fully. Beneath that, I can't see bones and muscles. Since you can move, I expect pistons and the like, all shaped like human bones and muscles would look like."
"Yes."
"You do know?"
He shrugs. "The blueprints for the body are available to me. I suppose he didn't want to end up unable to "heal" himself, after all."
"What else do you know?"
"The brain, Corona Pollentia, and Gemma, are stored in a liquid solution that nourishes neurons and allow them to regenerate at a better rate than normal – I'm sure I could extract that for a Doctorate thesis or two, because some people could really use it in the real world. And then the interface… I have a HUD, except it shows things inside my vision centre. I'm also quite strong and durable. A Brute rating may be required."
"But you're still Kid Win?"
"I'm still Chris… I mean, Kid Win. My Tinker specialization is not efficiency. Since I'm a Tinker and I live in a body of which I do have the blueprints, I'll be able to repair it… me… as the need arises. But I won't be able to make another one with as much efficiency."
"Not that we ask you to do that, Kid." Assault says. "Want a seat?"
"Ah ah ah. There's none available. Besides, I'm not used to my own weight. And strength."
"Hence some training with the newbies." Clockblocker announces, pointing his thumb at us. Only for Aegis and Vista to slap him upside the back of the head – in case of Vista, it's from several seats away.
"Before I get to that, can I ask a small favour of you, Amy? Can you alter the exterior of this body?"
"I… think I can. Perhaps. What do you have in mind?"
"I don't want to look like Armsmaster. Carlos was right, people will assume I'm him. Can you change the face to look more like my old one?"
Having approached enough, Panacea lifts a hand to touch his face, and, slowly, it changes. "I can't change the bone structure, obviously." She remarks. "It means that everything is skin deep."
Glory Girl floated up to them, handing Chris a mirror so that he could see himself. "Not bad." she hummed in appreciation.
"Sexless." Chris remarks absently, making her step back and blush. "Thank you." He says, returning the compact. "And thank you, Amy." He adds, turning to Panacea. "You even got the eyes. With this, my parents will probably accept things better. I could even pretend I hit a massive growth spurt!" He smiles – even if it comes out more like a grimace, Armsmaster not being known for his ability to express emotions, either. "Anything I can do to help you, anytime, feel free to ask."
"Thanks." she mumbles, stepping away.
"Thank you all." Legend says, standing up. I guess he has other responsibilities, and we took a large chunk of his precious little free time. And he still has to debrief the fallout from everything with his own colleagues and higher-ups. I don't envy him, right now.
"Thank you." I mutter. I'm not the only one, but he makes sure to nod at each of us, me included, before departing. "So." I say, after watching him leave. "That was Legend."
"Yep." Lisa nods along. "Impressive, and approachable. Not an usual combination."
"That was a good idea. Calling him, I mean."
She shrugs. "Spur of the moment. But thanks. Your bubbles rocked, too."
I smile. I'm amongst people I fought alongside with. We won. I could see them becoming my friends, and fast. Only one thing's missing, and I stand up a bit too fast before rushing to the adults. Seeing the three noticing I'm here and turning to me, it takes me a moment to remember who's responsible for me, here.
"Madam Battery, can we see to my dad?"
She thinks for a second before sending Assault with me – as the coordinator for the whole team of Wards, I guess she wants to give mentors as soon as possible. Given the attempt at complicated handshake I have seen him and Clockblocker exchange, before, I guess that's one Ward already settled.
With the kinetic manipulator (yes I know his power too, I told you I read on the local capes), I take the elevator down to the prison cells, and we find them empty. "Damn, I hope they didn't transfer him to the police already." Assault says, before hitting the communicator all heroes and Wards wear while on duty. "Console?"
A one-sided conversation later, I'm led to a side room on the ground floor, where my father was kept waiting. "Taylor!" he exclaims, rushing to hug me. "I mean… you've a mask. You've an alternate identity already?"
"Not yet, dad. Not yet."
"Ready to head home?"
"…perhaps not?"
"What?"
What follows is a rather uncomfortable conversation, during which he repeats everything bad that happened to me since meeting Shadow Stalker, a Ward, and I nod along, only to change the ending. "It's over, dad. Piggot is dead, and Sophia is either that, or in prison."
"She's… dead? The fat bureaucrat who wanted you in the Wards?"
"Yes. They attacked us, but Legend came and saved us."
"If someone in an organization helps you out of a mess created by the same organization, it doesn't mean that you have to join."
"Yes, but the organization that surrounded the Wards is gone. We're back with the heroes."
"We? So… you've made your mind."
"I made friends, too. My first friends, dad."
"I'm sorry, kiddo. I'll try to be a better dad, from now on."
I only nod in the hug, not trusting myself not to weep. Or, worse, weep in bubble-speak. I can't help snort when I imagine the snot-based bubbles I would generate.
"So, when can I expect you home?" he asks, looking at Assault in askance.
"Me?" he asks, playing the fool again before returning to seriousness – or just a little bit more professional. "Don't look at me, I'm not her mentor."
I grin, and try something new: producing a bubble behind him, I speak into it before popping it. And a reasonable approximation of Battery's voice comes out. "So sure of that, are you?"
"Well, puppy. I already have…" Assault starts complaining, only stopping when his turning around brings him face-to-face with… a blank wall.
It feels good to laugh good-naturedly, for a change. He even joins in. "You have potential." he says.
"I'll have to brush up my dad jokes." Dad says.
"Daaad." I whine, totally a teenage girl right then.
"I wouldn't know." Assault shrugs. "I'm not a dad."
"That might change soon." I say, trying to look small and impish. "Daddy!" I yell, jumping to hug him.
"Something you'd like to share, Ethan?" the voice was cool, but the woman's face was smiling.
"One of your tricks?" Assault asks me. In response, I smile innocently. He turns around and lifts his hand in defeat. "What can I say? I'm irresistible."
"The couch is irresistible too." she warns.
"And uncomfortable as hell." he stage-whispers.
"That's because you don't pull out the bed." Battery continues, before sighing. "Enough. That was fun, in a way, but I have to be serious for a second. Are you two good for this mentorship?"
"Yes mom." I say with a smile, but the word, once out, seems wrong. I leave Assault and head to dad. "I'm not replacing you." I say seriously.
"I know, Little Owl."
"You're my dad, my father."
"And don't you dare forget it."
"About mom…"
"We'll visit her grave on the week-end." he says, adding some context for the clueless heroes. "It's good to see you laugh again. She would be proud. So proud."
After a silent while, Battery clears her throat. "We intend to do some light power testing for the new Wards, and discuss general issues. Do you want to stay?" she asks my dad, who nods.
"I don't know if I'll have opportunities like that, later." he replies. "My guess is that she'll shoe me out herself, using powers or a good kick in the fatherly pride. Either will work."
"Duly noted." I say in a deadpan tone. Then I turn to my "commanding officer", Battery. "Ready for power testing." I say, saluting.
I see the smile through her posture, but she doesn't comment. "Let's head to the proper facilities, then."
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Training……confirms that I can create bubbles, of course. It also helps measure the size of the area in which I could do so. And it's quite wide: for someone confined in my own locker, a sphere with a radius of thirty feet was big. Those bubbles can be normal soapy ones, floating randomly and stinging the eyes of people they burst on. Put enough of them on a surface makes it slippery. Even weapon hafts.
As seen before, my bubbles can also form around parts of items, to separate them. In that version, they are quite solid and able to lift any weight in them. Because I already formed a bubble around Shadow Stalker, we test them again around people. And the result is that I can lift people… myself included. Given that I can direct bubbles in my area, I can fly!
I can even provide flight to people around me, except that they can't reach out of the bubbles – when earlier, Aegis burst the bubble I was trying to isolate Sophia in, it was a normal soapy one because I didn't know yet how to create them around people. Now, after some training, I realize that my solid bubbles can both shield and lift people, and that they can also lift people or things standing above them (for those needing to interact with the outside world, such as using powers).
Despite my training, I'm still unable to use bubbles on parts of a living body: they invariably burst.
It's quite sad that there isn't a power category labelled "utility" or "repair" – it's also reflective of the fact that powers tend to be used in combat, mostly. Or so Lisa says, and I trust her. Because that's another category I would be happy to have, with my "glue" bubbles: those, as I noticed already, are able to glue parts I removed from structures. Disappointingly, this only works with perfectly round parts, such as those I can carve out with my bubbles.
In addition, close inspection of the repaired items do show bits of glue when I'm done with them. I'm then coached in building construction, afterwards, allowing me to realize that I can't dig holes willy-nilly in structures – especially through load-bearing walls. Still, like the soapy version, the glue bubbles can adhere to places and items, making them extra-sticky, either to immobilize people or prevent them from using thrown weapons. A bit like an empty bubble of containment foam.
What I can't do is create air bubbles where there's no air. I can't make ordinary wine sparkle, for instance, or soda from non-bubbly drinks. I can't even influence already existing bubbles. I also can't create bubbles holding things that weren't there before, such as creating bubbles of hydrogen or carbon monoxide, or having differing temperatures, even. And, appearances-wise, my bubbles are like any normal bubble: transparent. No power-generated outfit for this cape, and no wobbly, round, and mirror-like helmet.
Still, I love my power.
The aspect I prefer most is the newly-discovered ability to fly. It stands to reason that it's the one I would train the most, and the one I refine most, too. But, as most parahumans will tell you, the power we get doesn't change over time or training, only our ability to use it fully. I thought I could make it able to refresh the breathed oxygen for people inside them, but I can't – much like I can't create bubbles of air where there's no air, I can't select what's inside a bubble of mine except "what is already there". The only way for me to last longer in a bubble would be to adapt myself, by adopting techniques taken from deep divers to need less air, for example. Or bottles.
But I don't need that, as I can always create a bigger bubble, with more air, if I need to move a large group or move over long distances… and I can also dismiss and recreate my bubbles even while flying – all it costs me (and my passengers) is a small moment of free fall.
Flying meaning moving freely in a three-dimensional environment, it doesn't take long for me to try this while skimming the water of the Bay, and then going under. The main difference is that I can't remove and re-create bubbles to refresh air, there. I already supposed that, because I couldn't create carbonated drinks. I test it nonetheless… and I end up soaked, of course. From that moment onwards, future times in the water will include portable tanks of air. Probably integrated in my costume, too, so as to have the precious oxygen always available should I need not to burst my bubble, at some time.
Thankfully, despite the pressure on the bubble, it holds quite well in the water… but only up to thirty feet deep. After this, there is a resistance which, when pushed, makes the bubble bursts. Thankfully, when I test this, it's with another bubble preceding mine, with some device whipped up by our resident Tinker so as to measure its surroundings – I didn't want to end up crushed by the sudden afflux of water.
My next test is to lift the bubble to the highest altitude, once again with another preceding mine. I have a parachute with me, for worst-case scenarios. Well, I will probably not need it, because my bubble bursts as soon as I direct it further than thirty feet (again) from anything else. Once again, there is some resistance before it happens.
I test this by having my bubble within thirty feet of a moving helicopter, or a plane. Despite the fact that I can move the bubble quite fast, it doesn't work. Apparently, I can only anchor my bubbles on the ground, or anything connected to it, such as buildings. This still allows me to fly in a relatively straight trajectory over most of the city, as normal streets are seldom more than sixty feet wide. And even if they are wider, throwing my bubble from one side towards the other only gives me a light drop without a bubble before I'm close to another building again and able to summon another.
Despite not being able to do anything I want, I'm optimistic. Some, like Dennis (oops, that was Clockblocker, of course), will even say "bubbly". My power has plenty of uses, and I intend to use them!
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To be continued… eagerlyAuthor's Notes: Yet another one inspired by Implacable (billymorph, SB), even if it's a whole other universe. I originally thought about exploring space and the oceans' depths, about using bubbles to immobilize (or move) people limbs, about creating ones with custom appearance and content, and about an outfit with many bubbles around her and a bubble-made helmet… but all that wasn't needed, and would probably be OP for an eventual continuation of this. Feel free to imagine your bubbly Taylor doing all this and more, though… after a second trigger. Even (gasp) bubbles seeing into other dimensions?