Warning, Foul language, Racist Language, and other rough and frowned upon depictions of characters and questionable actions.
...
Gripping the arms of his throne, Hookwolf's gritted teeth scraped against one another in frustration. "You want to run that shit by me again Stan? Because it sounds like you started hanging out with whatever fucking Merchants didn't get trashed by the psycho brigade." The pit fighter could feel the metal under his skin twitching to reflect his irritation. The twins must have noticed, if their grips on their weapons were any indication.
Stan, a mid-level lieutenant turned squad leader after Leviathan, swallowed. The Parahuman leader had worked with the guy for over a year, and knew he was not normally squeamish. But he was not stupid either, and bringing bad news to the boss often resulted in dead messengers. "Boss, I swear it on my life. Paul and his whole crew were blood, guts and bones on the street. It looks like they...well that they fucking ate each other after killing Janet from the relief center. Except Stevie. He stabbed himself in the eyes and bled out."
Taking a long breath to calm the fuck down, Brad reminded himself that Stan knew what he was fucking doing most of the time. So if he said they ate each other, then they probably did it. Still a massive pain in the ass though. "What did you do with the bodies? We don't leave our people out there like trash." Or like evidence of some sort of canibalistic cult. He needed more soldiers to deal with Purity's group, and that sort of rumor would scare people off.
Swallowing, the underling replied. "Well, I took some photos to show you what happened, but we didn't know if they were contaminated with any Tinker bullshit. So, we used molotov cocktails to burn the evidence, and got a fire hose to get rid of everything down the sewer." On one hand, Tinker bullshit was a legit concern with fucking Bonesaw out and about. On the other, he was the one who would have to explain what happened to their families. What a fucking mess.
Holding out his hand, Brad growled, "Show me." Taking out his phone, Stan unlocked it and brought up the folder. Looking down, he fought back a wince. Yeah, he would not have let the families see the bodies in this condition. Noting that Jessica had turned green after looking over his shoulder, he did not think the others would argue.
Tossing the phone back, Hookwolf sighed. "Fine, you did the right thing. Now go fucking spread the word. I want a head count, and to double the number of spotters. Either that brat popped a skin balloon and we didn't notice, or she's on the ground playing with people. Either way, we need to be protected and prepared. So let's find these assholes already." Nodding, Stan saluted before running off.
Watching the normie run off, Menja spoke up. "You know, it could have been someone besides Bonesaw. Maybe the Siberian or Crawler." Her sister nodded in support, as was their habit.
Standing up, the leader of Fenrir's Chosen began pacing the room. "Sure, it could have been Crawler, or the Siberian, or some stupid stunt that a new member did for shits and giggles. But try to tell a normal human to fight those assholes, and they will run. We don't have enough people to scare off anyone. But, no matter how scared they are, no guy is going to run from a little blonde in pigtails. That should at least get us enough warning to start something we can finish."
Any response the Valkyrie twins could have made was interupted by a barrage of shouting and gunfire. Releasing some of his metal, Hookwolf ran out the door, Fenja and Menja growing right behind him. What they saw on the outside made them ramp up their efforts.
A dozen of the compounds guards were on their backs, bleeding from numerous cuts. No one appeared dead, but they were not moving either. It probably had something to do with the dark skinned woman striding along while reading a book. Shards of glass surrounded her like armor, while crude collars of the stuff surrounded her victims necks. It sent a very clear message to the Parahuman leaders.
Shatterbird was here, and she wanted to talk.
--
Holding her spear close, Menja carefully continued to grow. Too much height and she might injure their people. Too little height, and the breaker effect would not be enough to save her. It was a balancing act that was familiar and welcome. She would need all her focus on putting down the rabid dog before them.
Closing her book, the psychotic dusty bitch started speaking. "You know, I do believe that this was a fairly well done defense. Certainly better than anything I've seen out of the PRT in a while. I should hold back more often. There is a certain artistry in precision versus wide spread terror. Something to consider for the future."
Forming his armor, Hookwolf growled, blood in his eyes. "You made a big fucking mistake coming here bitch. This is our territory, and psychotic cunts are not welcome!" With no further warning, the car sized mass of metal lunged forward. It was the Changer's favorite tactic and one that had served him well.
Smirking, Shatterbird put her book away. "How cute." With that, a snake of glittering glass shards rose from the ground, deflecting the charge. Faster than Menja could track, the construct changed into ropes that contained Hookwolf better than any batch of foam.
Holding up a hand, the glass controlling cape smiled at the struggling form of Hookwolf. "You have fire and passion, but need to work on your creativity. Changing into a wolf is a nice thematic choice, but imagine a giant serpent or an Elder God. Oh the horror you could unleash if you just stopped holding back! But in the meantime, I am here to talk. If you don't want to lose your toys, I suggest you rein in your temper." Suggestively, the glass collars around the fallen squad began to move towards their throats and eyes. Seeing that stopped Hookwolf in his tracks.
Nodding, Shatterbird dispersed her construct. "Very good. I am here to present you with some excellent news, Brad Meadows, also known as Hookwolf. You have been selected as my Candidate for the Slaughterhouse Nine. You are one of a very exclusive group my good man and honestly? I think you have a very good chance of coming in first, no matter what Bonesaw says about her Big Sister."
Glaring at the crazy bitch, Hookwolf spat on the ground. "You are fucking nuts if you think that I am going to join you psychotic ass mother fuckers. We see you again, then you are going to die right then. Now get out of here, sand nigger!"
Laughing softly, the dusky Parahuman rose into the air, glass forming their distinctive outfit. It was just in time to avoid a ribbon of distorted air. Before she could react, Stormtiger jumped behind his attack, rending the air with his strikes. Cricket was right behind him, releasing a blast of sound across the prone soldiers. Their glass collars shattered from the effect, falling as sparkling dust.
Idly dodging the follow-up strike, Shatterbird drifted away, waving as she went. Menja prepared to grow further and join in the offensive when Hookwolf bellowed. "Enough! Stormtiger, Cricket, Menja and Frenja, all of you assholes stand the fuck down!"
Turning to their leader, the blonde Valkyrie could almost picture Hookwolf chewing stones and spitting sand. "Cricket, check to make sure the bitch didn't leave any surprises. Fenja, get people over here to patch these guys up. Stormtiger, get on the horn. If those idiots at the Protectorate don't have a truce meeting set up, arrange our own. I want these Slaughterhouse freaks in the god damned ground!" Everyone nodded before dispersing to follow their orders.
Seeing the warrior before her filled with tension, Menja walked over. Hookwolf was not Kaiser, but he had his charms. "Sir, don't worry. We'll take these bastards down."
She was surprised to see the man scoff. "Nessa, just who do you think someone like Bonesaw would choose as a big sister in Brockton Bay?" Reviewing the female capes she knew of in town, one name came to mind, driving the color from her face.
Noticing her reaction Brad nodded. "I do not want to see what those freaks could do to Panacea. That bitch is enough trouble as she currently is keeping Glory Hole in one piece. If Bonesaw got her hands on the best healer in town, who knows what the fuck would happen."
Shuddering at the thought, the part time giantess began mentally digging for Othala's number. It was time to reunite their family to take out the trash.
--
Faultline stared into the glass before her. While she would love to drain its contents, that would be a waste of very good brandy. On the other hand, some numbness would be appreciated right about now. "Are you sure they got every exit Newter? What about that secondary one near Coil's first base?"
Sighing, the Case 53 shot his own drink without a care. It was mostly for dramatic effect since they both knew booze did nothing to his physiology. "Seriously Boss, I don't know how long they have been in the bay, but those jerks have been busy. Every tunnel out of town be it storm drain, sewer, or part of our rainy day escape route is plugged with either some sort of resin, or trapped with those damn skin bombs. How the fuck they managed that under the noses of the B.B.P.D. and PRT boggles the mind."
Closing her eyes, the Parahuman drank deep. This was a fucking disaster. "Okay, let's review. The Nine are in town and we are Parahumans. Ergo, we are targets and can't get away. So that means we have to fight. Maybe we can get lucky and claim one of their bounties. Maybe we can get away in the chaos. We have options, and that is the important thing."
Before Newter could reply, the door opened letting in Gregor and Shamrock. Nodding to his allies, the larger man smiled. "We have the new boy and Emily set up in the safe house. Hopefully, we can get him to calm down soon enough to be of some use. Whirlygig is downstairs in detox."
Narrowing her eyes, Faultline put down her cup with a deliberate clink. "I take it that you managed to properly review the contents of their case?" The discovery of the Merchant scouts had been fortuitous, but could also become a major problem. If they were right, people had died for the contents of Skidmark's little party favors.
Crossing her arms, Shamrock nodded. "I checked it over front to back. That was Cauldron paperwork alright. I don't know how the Hell the Merchants got their hands on it, but there are millions of dollars with of powers in there. No way the bastards won't come looking for it."
Leaning back, the leader nodded to her people. "We know from long experience that those monsters are paranoid as fuck. You keep that case on you at all times Shamrock. The middle of a Slaughterhouse Nine attack is not the time to set any sort of trap. Hopefully, your power can obscure any attempt to attack us for a retrieval."
Shamrock's response was cut off by a strange beat sounding on the dance floor. Since the Palanquin was supposed to be closed due to attacking crazy capes, that quickly caught everyone's attention. Affixing her helmet in place, Faultline rose. "It seems like there is a party crasher in the house. Take point Gregor, we have work to do."
Like a well trained machine, Faultlines Crew moved as one. Within minutes, they had the floor of the club covered. However, once the mercenary saw who was waiting for them, she had to suppress a curse. They were not ready for this shit.
Swaying to the odd beat, a barefoot girl was drifting from side to side. Spread around the floor were tiny flames, floating in the air and crackling forming the rhythm. Her pale skin was offset by a red dress and darker hair. But, most notably, her face was covered in lines of cigarette burns.
Burnscar was in their home and surrounded by flame. They were fucked.
--
Humming her favorite tune, Mimi enjoyed the feel of the music. She did not like dancing or people normally, but Elle was at a dance club, so she should be dancing, right? A bit of flame and she could cut loose just a bit. Just a bit more and she could really cut loose. Make the flame really soar...
No, no Jack said she had a job to do. So she would do her job. Then she could let the flame play and play and dance and maybe she could sing. Would Elle like it if she sang? She had never sung before, but that was the sort of thing you did when you saw friends right? Right.
Oh look, Elle's people were here.
She should say hello, right?
Waving her hand, Burnscar tried to smile. "Hello!" That was too hard. Too hard...maybe just a bit more flame. Just a bit more pretty flame...no she had to do her job.
The big guy in front had weird skin. Maybe he would like to meet Bonesaw? She could do all sorts of things. Nah, that was silly. Bonesaw was busy dealing with Murder Rat and the other one. It did not have a name yet, right? No, she wanted her Candidate to help make it better. Silly Bonesaw, playing with something like that and expecting the other girl to understand.
Parahumans did not understand each other unless you were really lucky.
Oh, the mask lady said something. Maybe a little less flame? "What did you say?" Was that friendly enough? Happy enough? No, she sounded weird. She only sounded happy when she let go. But she could not let go or Jack would get mad. That was never any fun.
"I said, why are you here Burnscar." Oh, right, she was becoming Burnscar because of all the fire. That was nice, Burnscar never cared about hurting people or causing problems. She just danced in the fire and laughed. That sounded like fun...
No, she had to stay focused. "I'm here because I want to see Elle. It's been to long and I miss my friend." There, now they could get Elle and they could talk and she could talk with her friend and not need the fire to feel...
They were being awfully loud. It was making her sad. Time for more fire!
"Mimi, what are you doing here?"
That voice...
Looking up, she saw the frowning face of her friend. It was just like old times!
Lowering her flames, Mimi smiled. It was easier now. "Elle, I found you! It's been too long!" She was there and Elle was there and friends could be happy when they were together, right? Right!
Sitting down on a railing, Elle did not smile. "Mimi, I thought you knew that I didn't want to see you again. Why did you try to find me?"
Yeah, Elle had said something like that, but it had been on a bad day. Bad days did not count and should be forgotten in the dark where they belonged. So it was actually a good thing she had found the girl! Logic that could not be beat!
Oh, she should respond. That made sense, right?
"Jack said that we were coming to Brockton Bay to talk with this... Taylor person? Then he asked if I wanted to see anyone while I was here, and I told him I wanted to see you! I missed you, Elle. The people I'm with are okay, but don't get me like you do." Wow, talking that much was hard.
Taking a deep breath, Elle closed her eyes. "Well, now you have seen me, Mimi. Why don't you go back to Jack for right now? We have to clean up the mess you made."
Mess, what mess? Oh, the flames kept getting bigger and scorched the ground. Oops.
Before Mimi could do anything else, the floor gave way to a slide. She found herself flying through the air, only to fall into a puddle. Looking up, she was five whole blocks away from Elle's place.
The girl had gotten stronger!
Now to go find Jack and Shatterbird for ideas on how to make even more pretty, pretty flame.
She could not wait to see Elle again!
--
Walking down the street, Sabah wished once again that she had never gained powers. Being a Cape seemed to include a destiny of sorrow and stress. Quite frankly, she just wanted to be left alone to design her fashion in peace. Unfortunately, the world did not want to accommodate her. Hence why she had to run an, ugh, patrol.
After Leviathan, her family and neighbors had managed to come together in relative comfort. Alexandria and Legend had stayed in town after the Memorial, and with the Endbringers death, many of the normal issues a surviving city would endure had been cut off at the knees. Kaiser was dead and Coil was taken down, his forces scattered to the winds. Honestly, with the defeat of Lung earlier in the year, she had never felt safer in Brockton Bay. Parian was even looking forward to being a part of the redevelopment of the Bay's economy.
Then the Slaughterhouse Nine had shown up.
The Protectorate and New Wave had pulled in their horns and the gangs were debating what to do. But that left her people without official protection, and the knowledge that a Cape resided amongst them. Everyone had pled for her help then and she could not find the will to refuse. So now she and her constructs had claimed a small slice of safety known as Doll Town. It was an experience she could have done without.
The young Parahuman was shaken out of her distraction by the sight of an odd package outside her territory. The purple wrapping reminded her of half cured leather, and it was moving a distressing amount. Mindful of the potential danger, she sent her cloth gorilla forward. Disassembling it with a thought, she reformed it into a dome over the thing before pulling out her cell phone. Undergraduate college courses had not prepared her for bioweapons from psychopaths damn it! Let the PRT get off their asses for once!