Sherrel's case couldn't have gone smoother if it had been covered in butter and bacon grease.
I had, after much teeth grinding from Armsmaster (I really hope the guy had good dental), and much empathy from Assault and Miss Militia (Surprisingly? Not surprisingly?), come to an agreement.
Firstly, I'd do healing for a few people of their choice, no charge, no questions. I wanted to ask why no questions but decided I probably didn't want the answer to that anyways.
Secondly, PRT could claim the main glory for "Freeing an innocent young women from the clutches of evil!" and "Reforming Villains to be a productive member of today's society!" because that was EXACTLY what Rookwood and I were planning on spinning this story as. We had Merchants still in custody and had verbals from them for leniency that they had indeed drugged up Squealer to high heaven for most of her tinkering and whenever they needed her to run distraction/destruction. God I wanted to punch their rotten fucking teeth down their throats...
Conveniently for the PRT, I didn't care about the glory of that shit at all. Hell, they could have the PR for turning a Villain from the path of evil and all that good shit all day.
Trading that for the fact that Sherrel was free to do as she wanted? To give her the kind of freedom that she had NEVER had?
That was fucking priceless as far as I was concerned. Top that Mastercard.
Well, I also suppose that the sample blueprints for Sherrel's ideas for improving the PRT vehicles and the promise that we'd give them some tune ups on the house was a big incentive too all things considered. Also the fact that Rookwood used up pretty much EVERY single favor that had EVER been owed to him to get this all ready in less than a week really forcing their hand in that regards as well.
Dude really loved his son and really was THAT grateful that I could give him his legs back. I appreciated the feelings and motions, but I just felt a bit bad in the end about it. Hell, I would have healed young Anthony even if he hadn't cashed in favors like they were going out of style. Still, I can't help but some part of me acknowledge that's what happens when you give a man his son's greatest dream back. (Plus the kid was actually a fucking little boss when it came to soccer. MVP in his whatever the name of his little soccer league was called. I kind of don't recall that over the mind numbing endless legal jargon I had to memorize in the past few days.)
I suppose it was for the best that it was earlier than later though. Otherwise the PRT would have had enough heads up and had enough PR and lawful pull that they'd have properly fought for her imprisonment in court and that wasn't what I wanted at all if I couldn't work something behind closed doors with them like I was doing now.
Honestly, I kind of found myself a little relieved that they found out about the case the day before the official court hearing. I was kind of hoping that the immediateness of the court case would force their hand just enough that they'd be willing to work with me and look at things from my perspective. Because the alternative was forcing the PRT looking like fools for pursuing an 'innocent woman' as if she was a villain, which totally would have been SUPER bad for their image for a while and be HUGE in turning them hostile against me and my own.
I know that Piggot apparently is hated for some reason that I'm not aware of.
And I did NOT want to do publicity/PR battles against a fucking government entity. They have ALL THE FUNDING.
You know when things get political, what wins 60% of the battle? Funding. It's easy power without doing anything because BOOP I hit a button and I'm richer than you AND I've already done half the battle. The rest of the time I can just blab about while you're spending time getting things in order.
The way I figured it, that's just social suicide. Even for a healing cape. Especially for one as new as me even though Rookwood kept assuring me that I could just move and then it would become my victory while Sherrel could get a fresh start in another city. Problem was that while I was lucky because my value had SKYROCKETED thanks to Surgery, I couldn't move from Brockton Bay. Too many things were going to happen and I NEEDED to be here.
Still, it seemed that the PRT were willing to be more hands off with me if it ensured that I viewed them in a good light and owed them favors.
And right now I was totally ok with that.
That was why, as the case ended, I was able to just sit there and silently pat Sherrel's back as she cried into my suit jacket, ruining it with mascara. And neither of us cared about that suit at all.
Because she was free.
We celebrated with a pizza and a movie (Sherrel's choice, oddly enough) and I introduced her to the Heberts as her new Cape Identity of Rider. When learning that the Heberts had my trust, she gave them her civilian identity on her own (I hadn't planned for this at all) and invited them to join us for said pizza and movie.
It was a nice, relaxing night as we nibbled on some sort of local specialty combo and watched some light hearted comedy that didn't exist in my original world. Some movie about a world underneath the surface of our own featuring Simon Pegg and Nick Frost. Danny didn't get some of the jokes, but it had the same general vibe as Paul and so it was fun.
The following day was school as usual. But the bullying had stopped for Taylor and I couldn't find myself able to bring up the thing about Emma. Like... there was something that itched at me the wrong way. I did tell her that Emma stopping was temporary though and I wanted to talk to her about a possible solution after school. She gave me a smile somewhere between happy and trusting. And I wasn't sure why I felt conflicted.
I was probably forgetting something. Hopefully I would recall it after a little time.
While we had plans for Rider's eventual appearance on the cape scene, right now we just moved forward with the first step of her reintegration to society.
The immense amount of free PR that we essentially just GAVE to the PRT was returned by a surprisingly generous gift from Dragon (delivered by the biggest drone I have ever seen), who obviously was trying to incentive us to work more with the Protectorate. And to help keep up our promise to them about upgraded tinker vehicles.
It was pretty good incentive too.
Something that she called an Auto-Forge. A beautiful piece of tinker-tech that acted as a self-sustaining automated forge that might as well have been the tinker equivalent to a heavy-duty industrial 3D printer for metal. It was easy to upload schematics and designs into and didn't need a network connection and was incapable of it (as far as we could tell) so we didn't have to fear it trying to be some big GPS bomb for our secret base.
Well, once I gained Wavelength as a Tinker Power, I'd make my own version of the Auto-Forge that would be safe for the base so whatever.
Should I make an Iron Man persona? Gallant's power armor was too reminiscent of good ol' Marvel movies for me and I was feeling nostalgic.
Hmm. Food for thought.
Still, we kept it in a separate location just for security reasons. A warehouse I was renting out under the name of Wade Wilson (Deadpool, obviously) because I remembered very vaguely something about Dragon having unmasked Taylor in canon when she had been Skitter. I don't know if it was her, or somebody forcing her to do it, but it was enough to know that I couldn't trust her 100% as of now. If there was even a 1% chance that the Auto-Forge had some sort of GPS mechanic, it couldn't be risked.
Thank god me meeting Gallant, Assault and Battery (who just looked uncomfortable as more and more time passed and had to leave mid-discussion as she claimed she wasn't feeling well), and re-basking in Miss Militia (and her smokey smooth as hell voice, she still gave me fucking chills dude) I had arrived a respectable 12 Fragments (having already had 4 from my lunch with Glory Girl). Yeah. Fucking amazing. 7 Fragments instantly went into unleashing Schrodinger's 2nd Trigger and I could finally be free of Deadpool's inappropriate comments...
Or so I had hoped.
Turned out while now we could PHYSICALLY be separate, we were connected mentally and were always vaguely aware of what each other was doing, seeing, and etc. Trippy, but it wasn't a problem after we got a little used to it. Unless it was really important that we had to show each other what was going on, it would merely be like a small hum in the back of my head. In the meantime Deadpool was in charge of transporting all the things the Auto-Forge created back to base. Still, he couldn't complain. I did swear to buy us Blink once we had another 2 Fragments to work with.
And because Sherrel had already seen both costumes and because I had her absolute loyalty, I went ahead and showed her that I could now separate into Deadpool AND All Might for future convenience. And to prevent misconceptions.
But she didn't question that I could suddenly do things that I couldn't before for some reason and I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.
Also, she liked Deadpool's ADHD-like nature and somewhat violent humor for some reason. I... suppose(?) that her sense humor certainly did end up being flavored by her time with the Merchants. Not that Deadpool wasn't funny (He insisted to being called Wade now that he was physically free of me) but he was the part of me that I rejected. We were sure to piss each other off every once in a while.
We already had our first argument over his first job as a 'Merc' and the way he ate pizza. Dude rolls slices up like burritos. The fuck is wrong with him? At that point just get a calzone like a normal human being.
Sherrel had laughed as she smiled at us arguing. I didn't understand why she was so happy, but apparently it was something about how she was happy that I could also have flaws.
Neither of Me understood what THAT was about.
Still, now I was with Taylor and Sherrel at the abandoned airport runway on the edge of town as All Might. The reason? Teaching Taylor how to drive because Danny was busy.
The real reason?
Just letting Taylor offload some stress by handing over the reigns of the 700 Horsepower PRT Enhanced Armored Response Vehicle Mark R1... and to learn how to drive in a safe environment by the fact that the Tinker vehicle had so many safeties built in that we were more likely to be hit by thunder then get in an accident. Ever.
And because the thing could pretty much turn on a dime and was fun as hell to drive.
Meanwhile Deadpool was off doing his first job as the fabled MERC WITH A MOUTH... transporting the finished parts from the Auto-Forge to the Secret Base.
"Join me and begin your murder-death-kill merc' lifestyle shenanigans they said. I'll become the symbol of peace and HAM myself and my chuuni ideals all across America and you'll have a high paying position under me and get a cool as shit belt that'll mask the fact that you'll be able to you teleport they said. So why am I being delegated to being the fucking PACK MONKEY!" I, the mighty and VERY handsome Deadpool, growled to myself as I headed over to one of the secret tunnel entrances. "...At least a shipment of weapons FINALLY came in for me. Ah. Feels good having katanas on my back and guns galore in my Pocket Room. Even if it's basic mook level equipment!"
I sniffed.
"It's almost enough to make a grown man cry." I continued aloud, walking down the street, ignoring the people staring at me, "Sure, they're all basic bitch white normal rating weapons that might as well be junk once the green uncommons and the blue rares begin pouring in, but THEY'RE MY WHITE RARITY JUNK WEAPONS DAMMIT!"
That was when I, your under-geared friendly Level 100 Merc With A Mouth, ducked as a brick shot through where my head was and shattered against the concrete sidewalk.
"Hey asshole! I've been looking for you!"
"...What is it with super powered little girls seeming to just appearing around me in Brockton Bay? Am I candy in a panel van? Is that what this is? Bully material for SB Mods?"
I flipped sideways out of the way like a plane performing an aileron roll. Not a barrel roll. Two separate things. And as I did so, three more bricks shattered.
"No! Not Bricky!" I cried collapsing to my knees. I grasped the sides of my head before extending them in shock at the scattered remains of Bricky "AND HIS FAMILY!!! His beloved wife and child! You monster!"
A girl floated in the air, standing on a giant cube of bricks, no mortar holding them together and ALSO floating. Two more large cubes of bricks of similar size floated around her like a giant orbiting fat guys around an all you can eat buffet. Or two sweaty neck beards around a young white girl dressed like her dad was a wizard from DnD 2nd Edition that died in a Holy Grail War and decided to take his oversized clothes and use it as her outfit.
Which is to say she's dressed like a wizard from-
"SHUT UP, YOU THINK OUT LOUD!"
A flurry of bricks split off from her twin protectors and launched at me as she screamed with indignation, red and black rune inscribed robes fluttering like a terribly PG anime majou shoujo.
"Skeet shooting!~" I trilled, whipping out dual magnums and rapidly shooting down said flying bricks. "Uh, oh, thirteen. Miscounted that."
Empty guns flew up and disappeared into Pocket Room as I whipped out a sledge hammer.
"Deadpool up to the bat... HE SWINGS!"
Red rock scattered like a shrapnel bomb as the metal head struck it dead on.
"AND IT'S OUT OF THE PARK! Wade Wilson from Regina, Canada takes the game winning-"
I dropped the sledge hammer and ran as another angry rain of bricks rained down.
"Did your mother ever tell you that interrupting somebody talking is rude?"
"Did your mother ever tell you to die?" She snarked back, her over-sized robes bristling in unbridled anger.
"Only every day of my life." I said with a voice of absolute seriousness as I slowly whipped out a shotgun (giving her just enough reaction time to defend herself) before I began blasting.
I'd only began pulling the trigger after I was convinced that she had made enough of a wall to deal with the first shot of my Benelli M3 as I began unloading it on her.
...With bullets, not sex you dirty minded virgin!
"Hey!"BLAMI yelled between shots, "Why."BLAM"Are."BLAM"We."BLAM"Fighting."BLAM"By the way?!"BLAM
"You've been putting our brothers in the hospital!" She hissed as she began re-allotting the remaining bricks around her back into that surprisingly tactical three group of brick-clouds formation. "So I'm gonna put you in the DIRT!"
"OOOH LOOK~! I'm a teenage girl~ I'm racist because my parents were horrible people and beat me into the terrible person I am~ I can't form my own opinion, but I pretend to understand big words like cultural genocide to fit in~" I vaulted over another volley of bricks before ducking into an alley, "I also don't understand that our big ol' windmill of a swastika that is the SYMBOL of our WHITE SUPERIORITY was from FUCKING INDIA!"
I hardcore-parkour-ed over a closed (thank god) dumpster as another trio of bricks slammed into the dirty metal as there was a frustrated high pitched scream of indignation.
"You really should open a few books and go to school like aGOODlittle girl!" I crowed, "That way you'll learn that your whole Nazi culture was so original that they ripped off everybody else! Even the Americans that WERE THE REASON THEY LOST THE WAR!!!"
A deagle blast apart another slew of bricks as impotent rage built up in poor little Rune.
"You know that repeating the exact same thing again and again and expecting a different result is thedefinitionof insanity?" I asked performing an impossible movie style quick reload by ejecting my magazine, spawning a full one with Pocket Room, and swinging the unloaded deagle onto it.
The magazine clicked into place and I cocked the gun back to load the first round into the chamber.
"You!!! Shut up while I try to kill you!"
Three more bricks.
"Why don't you, I donno, maybe STOP TRYING TO KILL ME." I yelled back, firing back three more shots before summoning a second deagle in my other hand.
"How about no?"
All of her bricks that weren't supporting her body weight began readying themselves like THE GATE OF FUCKING BRICK-BILON.
I shrugged. "Sounds fair."
I had bought enough time to buy Blink. And as far as I could tell though Power Eyes and Power Hub, her [Spiritually Imprinted Multifocal Telekinetic Manipulation] was still going to be worth 1 more Fragment after.
So buy Blink for me already! I kind of fucking need it!
Are you fighting RUNE over there?! Why are you fighting Rune?! You're just supposed to-
Oh, I don't know because she attacked me and I've been stalling so that NOW I HAVE ENOUGH FOR BLINK AND SHE'S STILL TRYING TO DEBRAIN ME WITH ENOUGH BRICKS RECREATE THE TWIN FUCKING TOWERS SO HURRY YOUR SHIT!!!
Fucking... ok, hold on one second.
Seven fragments converged into a flicker of shining flame that rhythmically fluttered out of existence and then fluttered into existence somewhere else in my sea of Negentropic flames.
There. Go have fun Wade, just don't kill her, please. She's probably a product of-
Yeah yeah. It's more fun just fucking up her whole world view by breaking down the fact that the entirety of her beloved Nazi party was built up from taking ideas and cultural items from other cultures anyways. That and her entire Caucasian identity. Hooray for systematic psychological and factual breakdown of the entirety of her way of life! I'm gonna teach her some shit today! AND FOR THE FIRST TIME IN FOREVER IT WON'T BE SEXUAL! Huh that's new.
...Whu... what? Wait! Wade! Dude, don't go too far with- DEADPOOL FUCKING COME BACK HERE MENTALLY!
"Joe? Are you ok? You look distracted." Taylor asked as she slowed down the giant tinker vehicle. "You're making a weird face. You didn't even get mad when Rider was trying to teach me how to do drift for the past few minutes."
"Ah... well... I know how I told you I'm making mow own team, right? Currently, it's me and Rider, but I hired a guy to do some heavy labor for us. He's a... odd guy. And I have the distinct feeling that he might be doing something stupid right now..."
Rider giggled a little.
"Why? What could he be doing?" Taylor asked with a laugh, flooring the gas giggling with childish glee.
I sighed.
"That's just another way of saying what could go wrong..."
END