Since Zelda and Ganondorf had appeared, there were very few times I had ever seen them agree on any particular thing.
But, as it was, one such thing was the idea that Image and Power worked hand in hand; that they were two halves of the same coin.
A well crafted personal image could shape perceptions of someone- just as it had with me when Zelda had appeared in her fancy pink dress, yeah, how surprised I'd been when she realized it wasn't necessary.
With a well crafted Image someone could make themselves appear more or less powerful than they actually were. It could make a weak man seem strong so an enemy would hesitate to attack them, and it could make a strong man seem weak so their enemy would underestimate them.
So, it was for that reason that we approached the location of the meeting under an invisibility field.
Through the opening in the hood of the form concealing robes Zelda had magicked into existence from some sheets, I looked up to the neon white sign over the double door of the building that we were supposed to enter. The sign, proclaimed the building as the Palanquin. A night club owned by Faultline herself, albeit through various shell companies.
Then I looked down to the four armed and armored man that stood guard outside said doors. The men, Mercenaries, with a capital M, belonged to Coil. Or so Jeff had reported when he'd briefed Zelda, Ganondorf and I on what to expect at the meeting. Apparently they he had been using his forces to mitigate the ABB's attacks.
He'd said, that normally these types of meetings usually went down at a dumpy little bar with a fake deaf waitress. But, because the higher than normal volume of people that were expected to show, it was decided a different venue would be more appropriate.
An electric whirr and clicking from my right made me look past Zelda- who was dressed in the same form concealing robes as I was -and saw Leet, or rather Leets remote control humanoid robot… thing, slap Jeff's- or rather, Uber's, since he was in costume -shoulder.
Catching the other man's attention; the tall, scuffed up, dark grey robot pointed one of its long, slender arm down the road to a muscle car roaring- literally, in the case of it's engine -up the street at a speed far beyond the speed limit.
Jeff, dressed much as the mercenaries were only with far more glowy bits, shook his head and muttered something into his sub vocal mic as he followed the vehicle; watching it as tracked the vehicle as it skidded to a halt in front of the nightclub.
Then he laughed, and all of us watched as a dark skinned man in a dirty wife beater, stained blue jeans, red cape- that I was pretty sure was just a bed sheet -and bandanna mask get out of the souped up junkyard car and head to the entrance. He was quickly joined by a trashily dressed blond woman with yet another bandanna mask.
Skidmark and Squealer. The main power behind the Merchants, a group of drug and flesh peddlers that somehow managed to stay relevant in the city; the former could create repulsion fields while the latter was a tinker that Leet suspected specialized in Vehicles.
The Mercs didn't pay them any mind, letting them enter the club without incident. Although, one of the Mercenaries did cringe away in what looked like revulsion.
"Are you ready for this?" A muffled and slightly raspy voice asked from my right and I looked to Zelda, her now crimson eyes looking back at me from beneath her hood and face wraps. "You don't have to do this."
From my other side Ganondorf snorted, but I ignored him in favor of shaking my head. "No," I said, my voice coming out a little muffled as well due to my own face wraps. "I don't think I'll ever be really ready but I want to- I need to."
Zelda stared back at me for a long moment, her eyes softening before she sighed and shook her head- then she stopped, and laughed a little laugh. "Very well then."
Looking away, she bowed her head and began quietly chanting; it was a gentle, melodious sound that I was only able to understand bits and pieces of it.
She finished after only a minute, and raising her head she looked from left to right. "Is everyone ready?"
Several noises of confirmation later she nodded, and as she slipped her hand out of her robes I stood straight, raising my head high as I looked back the Palanquins front double doors. For a few seconds I watched the Mercenaries standing guard, there heads panning back and forth; their hands resting on their assault rifles.
It wasn't even a second after Zelda snapped her fingers to dispel the invisibility field did they lock onto us, their heads snapping in our direction as one and two of the Mercenaries brought their weapons partially up. They weren't pointing them at us, per-se, but they were holding them at the ready and it wouldn't take very much for them to be.
This, was part of the plan that I hadn't been entirely sure about.
Five people suddenly appearing in front of armed guards that were most likely a little high strung due to an insane bomber on the loose, that had seemed like a recipe for an accident just waiting to happen.
Or, more likely, it was a recipe for someone to get shot.
But Ganondorf had made the point that the intimidation factor was undeniable, and Zelda had- surprisingly -agreed with him; testifying with her own experiences that someone appearing out of nowhere was a 'Powerful Image.'
So with that in mind we stepped off the curb and into the street; quickly closing on the night club as one of the Mercenaries put there hand to the side of their head and looked away.
The other Mercenary that wasn't holding his weapon at the ready stepped forward as we crossed the faded yellow stripes in the middle of the street and brought his hand up, palm out and politely asked us to state who we were.
Ganondorf simply snorted in derision, and with a few extra long strides he broke off from the rest of us; ignoring the Mercenaries second request for him to wait.
Keeping my steps measure so I stayed with in line with the others I simply watched as he advanced on the men, noticing just how much bigger he was than them once he'd gotten close.
Easily, he stood head and shoulders over them and it was hard to miss how he- quite literally -dwarfed them; towering over them by two feet at the most and easily a foot at the least. And in the smoke black silk suit he'd commissioned from Parian- because quite literally nothing we'd brought him to wear instead of having to use Zelda's illusions had been satisfactory -he cut quite the striking image.
Just as the Mercenary came within arms reach of Ganondorf he put his hand to the side of his skimasked head, nodded, and stepped aside; the rest of the men doing the same not a moment later. Internally, I let out a small sigh of relief that they hadn't tried to stop him, or, god forbid, fired on him.
Walking past the Mercenaries without a care in the world, the with the soles of his dress shoes clicked on the curb as he stepped off the street. And reaching his black gloved hands out Ganondorf threw open the double doors.
+X+X+X+X+
The inside of the Palanquin was fairly well lit when we entered, however; for how large the room before us was, it was obvious that only half of the overhead lights were on. This caused long, dark shadows of inky blackness to have formed from the thick wood beams spread out evenly on either side of the large room before us.
No, the primary source of illumination was from an expansive area situated in front of a small stage. It was there that everyone was gathered in a loose circle.
And as the doors swung shut behind us almost all of them turned to us, watching, judging, evaluating what kind of threat we could pose.
The weight of the attention was oppressing; but shrugging it off as best I could I focused on keeping myself composed and projecting an image of confidence as we approached the gathering area.
Slowly, the examining stares petered off as we reached the meeting area and when we settled in to wait Jeff broke off from us. And following him, I saw him make a beeline to a woman dressed in what could only be called a Riot Dress.
The all black combination of little black dress, riot gear and karate pants was certainly an… interesting combination, and with the large welding mask over her face I was able to recognize her from Jeff's briefing. Faultline.
Looking away from them, I began scanning the assembled Parahumans; trying to put the names Jeff had mentioned to faces- or rather, masks.
The closest group, with a total of five capes, was the Empire Eighty Eight contingent. Headed by Kaiser in his sword themed armor who was in turn flanked by the blond, valkyrie themed sisters Fenja and Menja. And behind them were two others.
Storm Tiger and Victor respectively. Stormtiger was an Aerokineticist that could muffle and throw sounds, make claws of compressed air and make explosions out of said compressed claws. Victor however, he; Uber had said not to approach or allow to be touched by under no circumstances or else you risked him being able to steal your skills from you.
Past them, was a group of two men in red and black costumes and a… thing, with the red and black streamers hanging from it. Looking at it, I could only think that it was what a Lovecraftian abomination crossed with a jellyfish and a horse might have looked like.
Definitely something I would have remembered had it been in the briefing. They were a complete unknown.
I quickly moved on, lest I start thinking in non euclidean geometric shapes, and turned my gaze onto a rail thin man standing off on his own in an almost skin tight black bodysuit that was sporting a snake motif that curled up from his leg to his head. Coil, one of the main SuperVillains in the city next to Kaiser, Lung and Skidmark.
It was somewhat up in the air as to whether the man even had any powers or not. But even if not, the skill of the Mercenaries under his command and the fact he was still active indicated that he was at the very least highly a highly capable person.
Past him were the… Eugh, my stomach churned and I couldn't avert my eyes fast enough as Skidmark reached down the front of Squealers much too short short shorts. Instead I focused on one of the more eye catching pairs. Although, whether they had come here together was up in the air since they could have been just talking, comparing notes maybe on being big. In fact, looking at them I had to wonder if there was a side door since they were so big that I wasn't sure if they could have fit through the front door.
Sitting on the floor, with one huge metal arm of his crude power armor resting on a knee was Trainwreck. The other… the other I couldn't place and was pretty sure was someone new.
Dark red skin almost the exact the color of dried blood, six black eyes spaced out across the front of a semi human-ish looking head which sat atop an oversized upper body- which included equally oversized arms. Its lower body was almost lacking in comparison, with just a pair of stumpy legs; and looking at it, I was reminded of a Gorilla.
And it had a chain, one taken off a ship in the boat graveyard from the size of it, draped across its torso bandolier style. It absently waved a hand twice the size of my head and as I watched it shifted, changed, as black scales spread out along its hand.
It proffered the now changed hand to Trainwreck and suddenly its face split in half, revealing a maw filled with teeth that looked an awfully lot like a sharks… I blinked as the image burned itself into my memory.
Yeah, how about no. Seeing that was something I just did not need, especially not when I lived in the same building as someone who thought that randomly bringing forth his pitchforked little monstrosities to 'keep me on my toes' was a good idea.
Oh, the Miniblins had taught me to keep on my toes all right. They had taught me how to spin about in a split second and kick the little monstrosities like they were soccer balls before they could poke me with their tridents. It had gotten old fast and now I was pretty sure he had started doing it for a sick amusement.
The next in line were of the more normal variety criminal. The Undersiders, a relatively new crew that specialized in smash and grab jobs.
Jeff had mentioned there being four members. Tonight however, there were only two. A tall man clad in black motorcycle leathers and had helmet a skull on its front- Grue -and a blond girl in a black and purple skintight outfit with a simple domino mask- Tattletale.
The rest of the capes in the room were much more clustered together in such a way that I was unable to get a good look. Though of those number, there were a few that I did recognize. If only because they were a bit off to the side; talking.
Parian, the Victorian doll themed clothier was one. Lady Photon, the unofficial leader of the failed New Wave movement in a white bodysuit with a multi colored star spreading out from her chest was the second. And Brandish, off to the side in her own white bodysuit with crossed blades was the third.
As I watched, Brandish stepped up, placing a hand on her sister's shoulder and she shook her head. Parian looked to Lady Photon to her, then… slumped, her head lowering a bit and she looked away before turning from the two women and drifted over to one of the beams; leaning back against it as she settled in to wait.
Following her, I glanced back to the Lady Photon and Brandish- and in doing so I almost missed Faultline.
Walking to the center of the dance floor she clapped twice, the sound echoing off the the room and bringing a halt the low buzz of conversations. "Alright, people it's time we got this underway. But first off, I would like to thank Coil for providing the extra security for us tonight."
"It was no problem, I doubt any of us would appreciate being blown up." The man in the snake themed body suit replied, confirming my suspicion. Something about him though was simply… off putting. I couldn't put my fingers on it.
"Quite. Now secondly." Faultline cast her gaze around, looking to each of the groups and individuals, "I'm seeing some new faces in the crowd here so I'll go over the ground rules so that we can all walk out of here alive."
"Right!. I don't care who you are, what grudges you may have or if you think yourself the second coming of Scion." Her voice resonated through the room, her tone wasn't arrogant. She was just… certain, sure of herself. I'd heard the like of it twice before, from Ganondorf when he'd proclaimed that simply because I had summoned him would he be subservient to me. The second time had been from Zelda, when she had told him she would kill him if he did anything she found worthy of such a punishment.
Thankfully that hadnt happened yet, with the more esoteric things they could pull off I doubted the warehouse would have survived. Much less the ones surrounding it.
"If any of you try to start shit, then you will be dealt with for violating the neutrality of this meeting. Is that understood." She cast her gaze around again, "If you have a problem with that then you can get the hell out."
No one made to leave or even move but even as Faultline looked about at those in attendance Ganondorf growled. It was a low sound, nearly inaudible but thanks to my proximity I heard it, along with the quiet creaking of his leather gloves.
I didn't move or say anything to him, as keeping in character, but I was thankful he relaxed a moment later and I focused my attention back on Faultline.
"Alright then. I was contracted to call this meeting so that we may declare a moratorium all all conflicts between each other until we can deal with our mutual problem. Namely, the psychopath that had taken charge of the ABB and has been blowing civilians up all across the city. Bakuda, she needs to be stopped or put down. At my last check the current death toll was close to reaching the triple digits, if it hasn't already. Neither the PRT nor the Protectorate have the capacity to deal with this, that leaves things to us before things can escalate even further. Now, does anyone have anything they'd like to contribute?"
Clearing his throat Coil took a small step forward. "I have it on good authority that PRT higher ups are considering imposing martial law and sweeping the city if this isn't dealt with soon enough. That means the the PRT will come in force. The problem however lies in the National Guard detachments that will be inevitably sent, volunteer soldiers that will shoot at the first person in costume that they see and sort things out later. I don't think an explanation is needed about why that is something to be concerned about."
There were a few mutters of agreement from the around the dance floor and someone cleared their throat. I looked to the sound and saw Tattletale stepping forward, "I've been thinking about it for a while and I'm pretty sure that the last few days bombings, including today's, have all been schadenfreude or a distraction. She's either planning something or building something and has been setting off the bombs to keep the heroes from focusing on finding her." She closed her eyes for a moment before grimacing, "And another thing, during one of our groups first hand encounters with her I can say for certain she has a hidden detonator and a dead man's switch on her person."
A number of muttered curses echoed around the room but one rose above them all, if only, in part, due to how vulgar it was.
"And how tha' fuck'd you know that fucksleeve."
Flicking my eyes to source of the crude remark I stared at Skidmark before looking back to Tattletale.
She leaned back before smirking, "I'd fucking know that because she splattered one of the poor fucks she put a bomb into all over me the other day, that how. And it's called common sense, now why don't you actually contribute something you cum dripping asshole." The response was sharp, but even as she straightened her back I could see her hand shake before she curled it into a tight fist.
Laughing, Skidmark pointed at Tattletale. "Well, fuck you too tiny tits. You want some contribution? Well some of my boys saw her and your dog bitch haulin a buncha' shit through our turf on her monsters." Then he grabbed his crotch, "How's that for contributing."
Faultline rounded on Tattletale, "Well?"
The blond villain looked to Faultline and shook her head. "I don't know, maybe…" She drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out," The last I saw of her she was going to check on some of her dogs, I figured she'd just left town." She stepped back, and as she did I saw her hand shake for a moment before something dripped from it.
"I see… and does anyone else know someone who's gone missing or that they haven't heard from?"
From the corner of my eye I saw Parian push away from the beam and take a shaky step forward into the light. "Um… I don't know anyone but I think she tried to come after me. Before she blew up my store someone threw something through the window, it… it felt like being hit with a dozen low power tasers all over" She gestured a hand to her dress, "I can only assume though that she didn't account for fabric I had at my disposal and all of my layers. I had a fair bit of fabric at my disposal so that may have been it."
Slowly, several others stepped forward and said they hadn't heard from a few capes they knew and hadn't been able to get in contact with. The total tally came to five capes, five capes missing that may or may not have been turned into walking bombs and forced to work with a psychopath.
Digging my fingers into the wrappings around my palms I focused on the present; using the what Zelda had taught me to shunt all the memories, rage, and hate that were bubbling up into a little corner of my mind. It was only partially successful.
"Very well then, thank you all for speaking up-"
"Enough." Ganondorf suddenly rumbled, cutting off Faultline mid sentence and looking up to him I saw the slits in his mask illuminated gold while he began to radiate an aura of malice. An actual aura of purple energy that radiated off of him like smoke from a fire and I felt a warm reassurance reach out to my thoughts. Zelda, reminding me she was there and ready.
"The first time you touched my mind I had been willing to overlook the slight, suspecting it to perhaps be something you could not control. However," Ganondorf intoned, his voice colored with unrestrained anger, "with this second attempt I am unwilling to overlook such a slight. Not minutes ago, the proprietor laid out the rules of neutrality that were to be abided by... and you have broken them. Disgraceful… for one such as you, I have only one response."
Faultline started, "What-"
A wet, sucking sound cut her off and my, along with everyone else's, attention was drawn to the Empire Eighty Eights group; even the E88 capes themselves turned to the sound. Then as one, the Valkyrie Sisters raised shield, sword and spear and moved between Kaiser from the armored shadow that had suddenly appeared in their midst.
Tall, composed of the darkest blacks and trimmed in the lightest of blues The Shadow stood at eight feet tall in armor and a bull horned helm. And in its gauntlet covered hand was the hilt of a sword made of more blue trimmed shadow; the curled blade of which was stuck through Victors back and piercing through the center edge of his breast plate.
It wasn't actually a shadow though, because I distinctly recognized as Ganondorf's Phantom.