Idea
This is another thing that runs closer to my ideal of a rouge, but first, hands up if you've seen the movie 'the godfather' Part one of course, not any of the sequels. Sorry for the fans of two and three, but one is the best by far in that glorious saga of crime, drugs, and murder. And while I have no hope of equaling the gloriousness that is the Godfather saga, this is my own personal take on a Taylor who is a little more, family oriented.
(She triggered after realizing Shadow Stalker was a Ward, not the locker)
I'll make you an offer you can't refuse
Armsmaster and Miss Milita walked beside Emily Piggot as she made her way to the rendezvous that had bad set up, by prior agreement between themselves and the Family in a local bar that was reserved for the event.
The Family were a gang of old style mafia, complete with an honor system.
Just over six months ago, they had taken over the docks, rousting the Merchants though the virtue of over a hundred men immune to small arms fire and who, according to reports at least, had infinite ammunition. And, not as in, 'oh my gosh, they have so much ammo, is it ever going to end!?' Instead, it was more they never, ever, had to reload. So when almost a dozen foot soldiers are somehow able to continuously fire a grenade launcher without reloading? Gang members, even those supported by Parahuman powers, are usually outmatched.
The Suit and tie wearing family had then rapidly spread across the Docks, evicting any Gang members and rapidly setting themselves up as a third, and more reasonable alternative to the Empire and the ABB, and throughout the subsequent turmoil, they had been resolute, taking on all comers, and at the helm was a mysterious figure referred to only as,
'The Godfather.'
It had sent the other directors into nervous fits as flashbacks to Teacher sent waves throughout the PRT and the Protectorate. But what a leader he had been, through every major event in Brockton Bay.
Lungs capture and Bakuda's subsequent rampage, countered through massive patrols of armed and empowered Family members, firing at anyone who approached their territory with a weapon, and when Bakuda started sending in suicide bombers without weapons, they had cleared the streets and then shot anyone with coming down the streets with high-powered rifles. To help the people stuck inside, they had even delivered groceries door to door.
When the Empire had been exposed, well, when the PRT had called for assistance, the family had replied in spades, assassinations, a few mass killings, and what a most terrifying, and awe inspiring bombing of exactly half of every Empire affiliated facility. The remainders of the organization had crumpled, and the only Empire cape left in the city was Purity, who had a mutual understanding with the Family that basically boiled down to,
'If we even think you've used your powers for anything other then self defense, we'll level a city block to kill you if thats what it takes.'
And even Leviathans assault, a full 50 family, armed with RPG's reported for duty. Of course they were relegated to search and rescue, but the fact that a local gang somehow manage to secure that many pieces of military equipment, well.
Piggot sighed and composed herself as she came in sight of the meeting area, standing in front of the door were two trench-coated and fedora clad members of the family. They didn't look armed, but Emily, despite not having been a field officer for almost ten years, still had her instincts, and she could see the ominous bulges underneath the mens jacket.
They gave Emily and the heroes sneers as they entered the bar.
The bar was what one expected from a dingy, hole in the wall that had managed to cling to life during the decline of Brockton Bay, it was a single, large room with a half dozen table pushed to one side of the room, booths on the other, and a large bar with dozens, if not not hundreds of glass bottles of different shapes stacked in rows upon rows.
But what drew Emily and the Protectorate members attention were the dozen gun toting men lounging on bars, sitting in booths, or just standing loosely, but they were all angled towards the door, and in a position where they could hose it with bullets. And in the center, a thickset man sat with fingers interlaced behind a small table.
Piggot sat in the chair opposite, and the Protectorate capes stood behind their director.
The man nodded to Emily.
"Miss Director. After a six month long smear campaign, what can mi' familia do for you?"
The mans vowels blended together with a foreign accent that Emily couldn't identify, he nodded briefly at a teenage girl wearing a black vest, white dress shirt, and black slacks and dress shoes as she placed a drink on the table and slide it towards him. The teen gave a nod back before retreating behind the bar.
Piggot snorted to herself. Even the bar staff were security, the tinker-tech earpiece gave it away, and Piggot was sure that there would be heavy arms if she looked behind the bar. The director pointedly ignored the heavily armed men dotted around the bar and leaned forward, across the table towards the man who she assumed was the Godfather.
"Its quite simple, because of your admittedly civil minded, and defensive oriented actions. The PRT and the Protectorate want to draft you and your family as PRT auxiliaries."
The only reaction the man sitting across the table gave was a raised eyebrow as Piggot continued her pitch.
"If you agree to become auxiliaries you will come under the auspices of the PRT and the Protectorate, you will be payed standard wages as well as other benefits such as health insurance."
Emily did her best to smile warmly as she narrowed in on what would be the main selling point.
"And whats more, you and your men would be able to call on the full force of the Protectorate in order to continue to do what you do best, protect Brockton Bay."
The Godfather stroked his chin in thought as he replied.
"So, I imagine if I said no, that very same full force would come aimed against us instead?"
Emily remained silent, her smile becoming a little fixed as the same teen from behind the bar came back, and tapped the Godfather twice on the shoulder. He turned, nodded, and stood up.
The teen sat down, and with a cold expression spoke.
"Hello Director, I don't know if you remember me, but my name is Taylor Hebert, and I am the Parahuman known as the godfather."
Taylor Hebert? Oh. Oh…. Oh. Oh shit.
Emily swore mentally.
That wasn't good.
Taylor Hebert, triggered by Shadow Stalker in her civilian identity, a high school girl who had utterly disappeared despite her fathers and the PRT's efforts to find her.
So what. In. The. Hell. Is she doing here? Wait. 'I am the parahuman known as the Godfather.'
Crap.
Piggot felt the smile on her face start to burn like acid.
"Well, I can't say its nice to see that your alright Miss Hebert, but what are you doing serving drinks in a bar run by the family?"
Taylor lifted one eyebrow in a motion that made want to beat the teen over the head with some common sense.
"Well, considering I founded and command the family I can be in any place Family owned or operated that I damn well choose."
Piggot held up one hand in semi-protest.
"Thats not what I meant-"
Hebert slammed a fist on the wooden table.
"Its not what you mean, its what you say that counts!"
Nostrils flaring Hebert swept a hand over the bar.
"My men and I have been ensuring the safety and security of Brockton while at the same time cleaning up the failures and the destruction caused by the heroes and villains! We have single-handedly insured that civilians are able to continue living in the shit hole that the PRT have let the city become!"
Piggot hid a grimace, this was exactly the type of cape she hated dealing with. Arrogant, proud, and absolutely fanatical. But she persevered, the Family were a organization hundreds strong with access to military hard-ware. Piggot wouldn't be able to look at herself in the mirror if she couldn't manage to get a teenager of all people to agree to, at the very least, neutrality, especially now the every other organization in the city other then the Family and the PRT were either destroyed or neutered of any offensive capability. So, with a face like stone, Piggot posed a question.
"So, is that your final answer then?"
Hebert sneered, her disgust obvious.
Taylor Hebert leaned closer and made a come hither gesture with one finger. Piggot rolled her eyes but obliged the teen and teen in with in arms reach.
CRACK!
The resounding crack of the clap impacting on the Directors face was thunderous in the silence, and then the sound of Milita and Armsmaster bringing their weapons to bear, and then the ripple of metallic of clacks as every Family member in the bar brought up a weapon, varying from a small pistol, to fully automatic rifles, and in one case some sort of single shot pistol on steroids.
Hebert just ignored the weapons being aimed around her to stare at the Director of the PRT.
"You had the balls to come into my place of business and demand that I hand over my Familia to you, and then the utter audacity to threaten me and act like you were doing me a favor. And this is after a six month smear campaign in the wake of my trigger, which was caused by one of your Wards! So no, I wont be joining you. Not now or ever."
Hebert snapped her fingers in a mocking eureka gesture.
"In fact, I'll give you and the rest of you spandex clad arse-holes an offer you cant refuse."
The Parahuman known as the Godfather stood.
"You, the Protectorate, and anyone who works for the PRT in a capacity has 48 hours to evacuate the city before the Family goes to war. Good luck."
And then Taylor Hebert, Parahuman, leader of the biggest gang in Brockton bay left.
Scene Break
Emily Piggot was back in her office, a crystal decanter of whiskey on the desk in front of her. She was seriously considering draining it.
'Shit, that was a cluster.'
End
Taylor Hebert-Godfather
Thinker 5 (See emotional stresses and gifted strategist)
Shaker 9 (Can imbue immunity to small arms fire, plus a 'cartoon' infinite ammo effect)
Next chapter Lich