* September 11, 2009 *
"Testing, September 11 2009, 1550 hours. Recording by Armsmaster, with Scotty and Dragon monitoring. Subject: Huntswoman's Minion Empowerment ability on species other than previously observed. Initial target: Trooper Enshu-Ritsu's donation of her pet green iguana. Species iguana iguana, also known as an American Iguana or common green iguana, name: Smaug. Smaug has been owned by Enshu-Ritsu for five years and the iguana is quite used to human presence, is very docile in enclosure, and is a herbivore with a documented love of cooked sweet potato. Vitals have been checked and documented and are listed in what should be an attached file.
"In order to forge the required bond between Smaug and Huntswoman, Huntswoman is feeding the lizard some sweet potato and has filled out the forms for a shared sidekick as instructor/trainer."
"Minion Enhance!"
"ROARRRRRRRRRRRRRR! (hack, cough)."
"You okay there, Smaug?"
"Bit of a dry throat, might I have a bit of water?"
"Here you go."
"Thanks. (gulp gulp gulp). Better. Ahem. 'My armour is like tenfold shields. My teeth are swords. My claws spears. The slash of my tail a thunderbolt! My wings a hurricane and my breath - death!'"
"You're at most one and a half meters long. Can you stretch out your wings?"
"How's this?"
"Perfect. Wingspan of three meters."
"I'm rather attached to them. I wonder how fast I can fly. Oh, you have some more sweet potato, perchance?"
"Here you go."
"Ah, golden treasure it is."
"Why the 'Hobbit' quote?"
"Seemed appropriate and my Trooper has read passages to me for years whilst I warmed myself below the burning sunlet."
"It's an IR lamp."
"A bit dry to call it that, isn't it? I'm a dragon, waxing eloquent is part of the whole image - is it not?"
"Might just have a point there."
"Indeed. A dragon being right about such concerns is entirely in-genre."
"Well, Armsmaster is getting impatient, so how about we get to testing things."
"Indeed. Let us proceed then, and I could use a nap thereafter. Dragons love naps."
* PRT ENE HQ, September 13, 2009 *
"I had Glenn Chambers on the phone this morning. He was cackling. Cackling. That is both annoying and frightening."
"I see," answered Armsmaster.
"Apparently the projected budget from sales of Animaster's merchandise may help with our overall budget," continued Director Piggot.
"Understandable," said Armsmaster. "Which is predicted to be the biggest seller?"
"Right now, the plushie made of the Shaker/Blaster Corgi," said Director Piggot. "How has testing gone of the other 'super-pets'?"
"The cat currently known as Sufficient Claws resembles a half-size green tiger with a chameleon ability ranked as Stranger 2 and the teeth and claws are at least Striker 2. Smaug, the iguana, has stabilized at 1.3 meters with a three meter long wingspan. Smaug is able to reach 17kph in sustained flight, but is currently inexperienced with aerial manuevers and needs to work on landings especially. Despite the quote from Tolkien - no breath weapon. Smaug was quite disappointed with that."
"Actually, that's good. The lack of a fire hazard is appreciated."
"There's actually talk now about having an Enhanced Animal Division among the PRT Troops. Potentially useful for Search & Rescue or Crowd Control situations," noted Armsmaster.
"Run it up through channels, the Chief Director will deny it, then we can dismiss the idea and say we tried," said Director Piggot.
"Animaster, she suggested that name after PHO reactions to Huntswoman, states she feels she's hitting some sort of limit. She can manage one per day, but it feels as if she's pushing harder and harder to do so," said Armsmaster.
"That's also a relief, explore that - maybe there's a recharge time for her enhancement ability or some other limitation involved," said Director Piggot.
"Putting a human under her authority was attempted with Trooper Saotome," said Armsmaster who then hesitated.
Director Piggot caught the glance and pressed the anti-eavesdropping switch.
* Elsewhere in the building *
Thomas Calvert smirked, having already gotten the information he wanted.
He'd needed to make a few adjustments, add another tap onto a newly renovated system, but he was free and clear and nobody had a clue that anything was amiss.
As it should be. He always won.
* Director Piggot's office, September 25 2009 *
"So a transfer to Arcadia would be advised as she has no actual ties to Winslow and Arcadia has a strict 'no bullying' policy compared to a 'no bullying where the Principal can see you' policy," said Armsmaster with some degree of disdain in his voice.
"Well, that's certainly..." began Director Piggot.
"Squeak!"
Director Piggot looked at the little cellphone that a mouse had lugged into place and put on her desk. "What's this?"
"Squeak!"
"'Mission accomplished'?" asked Armsmaster. "What mission?"
Director Piggot made the connection. "You found something?"
The mouse quickly unlocked the phone and began showing pictures taken.
"That's Eisen in Maintenance," noted Armsmaster. "Putting a thumbdrive in his pocket?"
Another picture was brought up.
"I see," said Director Piggot, her voice cold.
Another picture, with both Director Piggot and Armsmaster making thoughtful sounds.
"Squeak. Squeak, squeak."
"Interesting," said Armsmaster.
"You have a mouse translator in your helmet?" guessed Director Piggot.
"Scotty built one," admitted Armsmaster.
"Ah," said Director Piggot, because honestly what else could you say about a dog building a mouse-translator to be installed in a Tinkertech helmet in order to speak to ninja mice? When had her life gotten to the point where she regarded such developments as normal? Seriously, decided Director Emily Piggot, she needed a vacation as soon as she could be sure the city wasn't burning by the time she got back.
They had largely kept the ninja mice secret and off reports. It had taken two words for everyone involved to decide to keep as quiet as possible about them. Those words being "Mouse" and "Protector" and even the slowest Trooper in on the secret could quickly imagine how fast the mouse-themed hero would show up.
Mouse Protector was a teleporter, so that answer was very fast indeed.
Armsmaster stopped on one particular picture. "Director, that is..."
"You got pictures of him and what was on his computer?" asked Director Piggot. "Hmmm. Considering what's on the screen and that I did order you to find evidence of moles, I'll let that slide."
"Squeak."
Director Piggot didn't even bother to look for a translation, the wounded pride carried despite the language barrier.
"Aren't ninja also very well known as saboteurs?" asked Armsmaster.
"Squeak," squeaked Hattori.
"I think I can make up some data taps," mused Armsmaster. "I'll have to write out installation instructions if you think you can get to the appropriate places."
"Squeak!"
"Well, yes, ninja mice," admitted Armsmaster.
"You're going to tap the system of someone who is tapping our system?" asked Director Piggot. "I cannot condone such a thing since it would be terribly illegal without appropriate court permits."
"Squeak?"
"Yes, that was sarcasm. I know one that'll authorize it and seal the paperwork. Oh, and the transfer to Arcadia for Animaster? Approved. See what you can do to expedite that."
* Ace *
"I am the darkness."
"You're tan, black, and gray."
"I am the night."
"It's three in the afternoon."
"I. Am. Ace."
"Well, yeah. I am Hope."
"You are really bad at reading the mood."
"Dude, you are in danger of going Goth and broody. Lighten up. Have you checked out this kibble?"
"You are really bad at reading the mood."
"I have kibble, a place to sleep, plenty of exercise and skritchies. Oh, and check out this squeaky toy!" (squeak squeak squeak)
"I have to be alert for menaces to our mistress, train so that I can spare her pain, and learn everything that I can."
"Just saying. All work and no play makes Ace a nervous wreck. Seriously, I knew a dog who was so stressed up he was losing clumps of fur."
"Ralph? He was a husky. They shed like that normally."
"You could practically have stuffed a sofa with the fur off that guy."
"Like I said, normal. Now where was I?"
"You were brooding while looking out the window going on about how you were darkness and the night."
"Ah, yes. Thanks."
"Though frankly the whole 'I am Ace' thing needs work. Maybe if you had a cape name like the humans do?"
Ace considered it. A work name. A name to conjure fear and terror in criminal minds. "I. Am. Mime. No. I. Am. Clown Dog. No too scary. Hmmm. I work for the IRS."
"What's an Eye-Arr-Ess?" asked Locke.
"Not sure. It seems to be some sort of company that goes after people that scares them, something they can't fight," mused Ace. "I think they might be something like pirates, that come up to humans and demand all their gold and then steal all their possessions and destroy their lives because it's never enough. I've heard people talk about them, usually with some fear-smell when they do."
"Might be too scary," opined Locke. "You don't want to get in trouble for scaring the people you're trying to help."
"You have a point there," admitted Ace. Scary to bad guys, scary to... "Scotty is that you?"
"Aye, me lads," said the little Scottish Terrier wearing an armored vest and little metal helmet. "It be my power armor. I'm going out on patrol with Armsmaster as we got the sidecar set up."
"Hey, Scotty," said Ace. "I think I might need some dark and dangerous motif to go out and take a bite out of crime."
"I'll check into it when we get back," promised Scotty.
* BBPD Station 4, Boardwalk *
He had completed all the training to be working with a police dog, but the police dog-in-training had proven to be too friendly. It happened, some of the candidate German Shepherd Dogs seemed to do fine up through training until the point where they were all wagging tails and tongue-floppy grins at the nominated "bad guy" to go after.
Officer Tyrone Wilson (the Third) looked down at the designated experimental animal he'd be handling and wondered why his life was apparently heading straight to the Twilight Zone. He looked around but there was no old white guy stepping into the scene to explain anything. Which was okay as it would have been extremely weird, but also appreciated because this was downright crazy. Well, there was the Sergeant. He kind of counted being old and white but without Rod Serling's sort of presence.
"Tyrone. THAT is Sufficient Claws. Apparently he chose the name himself."
"Yo," said Sufficient Claws, briefly looking up from where he'd been licking a hindpaw.
"He talks," noted Tyrone. "Just pointing out I was trained for police dogs. Specifically as an animal handler for a K9 patrol unit. Not a talking panther-sized green cat."
"You're an animal handler, Claws can speak but it remains he's an animal."
Sufficient Claws paused his self-grooming long enough to comment. "Quite."
"Just wanted to point out things like the lack of a litter box, much less one that size," said Tyrone.
"It's temporary, might take a year or so before the PRT gets things arranged so they can have handlers of their own. This way we also get some experience with it all."
Tyrone watched as the green cat settled back, yawned quite heavily, and managed to look extremely bored. "Oookay. Wait. Is this from Animaster?"
"You've heard of her?" asked Sergeant Bilko.
"Yeah, she's on PHO," admitted Tyrone. "Enhances animals. She ain't had her official debut, but the PRT's got pre-orders on some of her merch."
"Yeah, damn parahu-" began Sergeant Bilko.
(SCHING!) went a set of claws, being extended out. (GLEAM!) went the light as it played along those claws. Claws looked completely unconcerned as he raised an eyebrow in a fashion that would have earned him a "well done" from Leonard Nimoy.
"As I was saying," said Sergeant Bilko. "Most parahumans I have a problem with, and then there's a fine upstanding young hero like Animaster who actually wants to be helpful. More capes ought to try and be like her."
* On patrol *
A sidecar on the Armscycle would have been unthinkable not that long ago.
Now with Scotty there beside him, there was something about it that just seemed... right.
Little goggles down over his eyes, little helmet (safety first, kids!), and he saw his name and pictures of his patrol going up 431% from the last time he'd gone on patrol.
Since part of being on patrol for the Protectorate was being seen - this was turning out to be quite efficient.
Apparently he was now "Armsmaster and his sidekick, the Dog of War" - which wasn't quite so catchy but Image would probably come up with some better phraseology to use.
(BOOM!) and there went Taco on his own self-appointed rounds. Huh, speedometer registered him as only going Mach 1. Might have to check and see if there was a gradual powerloss or if the dog was going slower in order to properly respond to disturbances.
* New Mexico *
Bumblebee sat back in her lounge chair, aware of the bees darting about as they worked the field behind her.
Clover was good for fields, good for honey. It was a nitrogen-fixing plant, so it could revitalize a field where something else would be grown. It could be mowed and collected for animal feed and it would regrow as long as you left the roots. Clover was also good for the bees as they feasted on the nectar and brought it back and then you had clover honey.
Mind you, she had quickly branched out to get other strains and flavorings in the honey. Because she could and did and it was nice.
What most of her attention was on was the tablet in front of her. Apparently a new PRT Ward was able to enhance animals.
She really wanted to see what a few enhanced bees would be like. Smarter bees? That could be tragic because workers didn't last long. Smarter queen? That could take some of the work off, but also would worry a lot of people about killer bees.
Not that she worked with killer bees. Regular honeybees were just fine.
"Hah! Now I have you Bumblebee!"
"Dude. I'm working," answered Bumblebee. "Field work."
"You're sitting in a lounge chair with an umbrella, with a pitcher of something there and a tall glass with ice cubes. How is THAT working?"
Bumblebee sighed and regarded the hero over her sunglasses. "I'm directing my bees to pollinate the field. This gives me more honey to sell eventually, but also means the next crop is going to be especially thick. Check with the farmer. That's Simonsen over there, he hired me. In about two hours I've got to move to the North side."
"That doesn't matter. You're going down this time!"
"No. You're kind of cute but you're way too loud and I'd really have to be in the mood for something like that."
"...what?"
Bumblebee explained.
"THAT ISN'T WHAT I MEANT!"
"Hey, I read PHO. There's a whole bunch of locals who pair us up and say it's all 'unresolved sexual tension' and such. Not on my part, but hey maybe that's why you keep trying to fight me."
"I'm fighting you because I'm a hero and you're a villain!"
"So?" asked Bumblebee. "What crimes are still on the books? Now that I have a steady income stream I've been paying back everyone I originally stole from."
"That's beer! You're underage!"
Bumblee stared at him for a moment. "First off. Ginger beer. It's cold. It's tasty. Second - you don't know me or how old I am."
"Fifteen?"
"No. Third, I am not currently in the commission of anything like a crime nor have I been convicted of anything."
"You're up to something."
"Yes. I'm up to two thousand nine hundred dollars per week."
"You're... what?"
"I'm not stupid, this is making me better money and a lot better press than being a joke supervillain. So that's one hundred and fifty thousand per year, not counting time I take off or periods when business isn't booming. There might be seasonal or other disruptions, though that wasn't counting sales so I might be off."
"'Sales'?"
"Royal jelly, honey, beeswax," said Bumblebee, making a waving gesture off in an apparently random direction. "Bee-related products. Though I made a deal with a local company, High Desert Honey Company over in Taos, to handle a lot of the work. They have the processing and distribution connections so it looks like it will work out."
Bumblebee watched her nemesis (such as he was) Lancer go stalking off to talk to the farmer. Pity. He was kind of cute, and he had an absolutely great tush, but he just didn't seem to be able to change with the times.
And she was sixteen, thank you very much.
She took a deep pull of her ginger beer, relaxing a bit in the unseasonably warm day and considered what a contact with this 'Animaster' cape might allow her to do. Could she get giant bumbly-clumsy bees she could ride around on?
That would bee bee-utiful.
* Winslow High School, Brockton Bay, Wednesday September 30 2009 *
"Where'd she go? She finally do everyone a favor and kill herself?"
"No. She's transferring to Arcadia."
"She can't do that!"
"Why not? You ran that loser off. Good riddance."
"It is easier to demonstrate you are a predator when there's available prey."
"So we go after someone else. No biggie. How about... that girl. Asian. Not wearing gang colors."
"Uhm. Bad idea. She's an Asian who is not in a gang. There could be a reason the ABB leaves her alone."
"Woman up, Madison. What's the worst she could do?"
* Arcadia High School *
"You just startled and looked up, Miss Hebert? Something on the placement test?"
"No sir. It's just that I felt like somehow, somewhere, someone had just dared the universe and got run over by a speeding karma."
"Very imaginative phrase, could use some work though. Just continue with your test."
* Winslow High School *
She was a particularly short, slender, Asian girl with short-cut hair. Wearing dark colors for the most part. People tended to drift around her with nobody acting like she was their friend. No gang colors or apparent affiliation, so she seemed like a safe target.
She seemed like a safe target.
"Wow. You never bathe do you?" started Emma as she stepped directly in front of the girl.
"Are you SURE you want to do this?" asked the girl.
"Of course, I'm just being helpful and suggesting you bathe at least once a day." Emma started sniffing. "Maybe twice."
"Are you two bookends sure you want to be here?" asked the Asian as she looked over Sophia and Madison.
"Why, what are you going to do? Cry?" asked Emma.
Sophia glanced to the side. Why were all the Asians backing the hell off? Not coming to a fellow Asian's defense was one thing. Acting like the other girl was going to pull a bomb out of a jacket pocket another thing altogether.
"You pulled this shit with that one gal, so now you decide you're big enough to go against ME?" asked the short-haired Japanese girl. She glanced to the side. "We clear?"
Another girl answered. "Clear. No teachers, no admin."
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" said Sophia, reaching forward to grab the little girl. She needed to learn who she was messing with.
Abruptly she was looking at the ceiling. Her back hurt. Her arm really hurt. She tasted blood?
"Uhm, Emma?" asked Madison's voice. "She just uppercut Sophia so hard she nearly hit the ceiling."
Emma stepped closer to declare her displeasure. "You can't get away with - AWK! OW! HEY!" (WHAM!)
"You shove your finger in my face, I take exception to that. Don't do it again."
Sophia got up. Nobody did that to HER! Nobody! "You caught me unaware. Let's try that again!"
She threw a punch, the other girl grabbed that arm and suddenly Sophia found herself on a short flight from a short girl.
She went shadow rather than hit the wall, only realizing her mistake a moment later.
* Armsmaster *
It had been caught on video. A parahuman outing themselves after a bullying attempt had gone south when the chosen target was the functional heir of a martial arts school. Even worse, it was a martial arts school that Lung himself didn't bother.
Not through any fear of it, but because apparently favors were owed. At least according to the websearch he'd done on seeing an unfamiliar name.
He'd bookmarked the article to come back after a cursory read, because it had looked to be quite the tale.
Fifteen minutes later he had arrived at the school and his head's up display was giving him some concerning data.
Bloodstains in a lot of places. Traces of illicit drugs. Gang tags. A used and discarded syringe in the shrubbery there. And over there. And over there. And there were other things even less pleasant that were briefly highlighted in his visor's view that made him wonder if he'd wandered into some movie set. Gang-infested school in the slums, Take One.
The cursory investigation on the trip over had also revealed that the name 'Sophia Hess' had been one of the bullies that had caused Animaster to seek a change of schools. Considering how much potential Animaster had to bring good press and bolster the local budget - that had been fast-tracked.
So one of those responsible had been a parahuman. Now having a more public identity. So others were now contacting the family for their protection while he was given the first contact job.
He had a moment at a traffic light where he considered what the usual move would be. "Armsmaster to Console. Request clarification of procedure."
"Renick here. I was listening. What needs clarified?"
"Normal procedure would be to press for the Wards for this new parahuman. However, I glanced at the files and the parahuman in question was apparently one of those bullying Animaster. Putting them on the same team seems... problematic."
There was brief silence from Renick before he replied. "Yeah. That could go really bad really fast. Okay, passing this up the line. Errol? Do we know what this new parahuman can do?"
There was a brief scuffing noise before a new voice spoke. "Video shows her turning shadowy before going straight through a wall. So a Breaker with the ability to pass through solid objects. At least that's my interpretation."
"So Wards, but if she joins she'll be transferred to another area. Maybe New York," offered Renick.
Armsmaster hmphed. Focus on the task at hand first, worry about the rest later.
"All things considered, Animaster is too valuable to be the one transferred," said Renick.
"True," admitted Armsmaster. If it got out that Animaster that there was any chance might end up transferred out of Brockton Bay, the demand from other PRT commands would be quite annoying.
* Winslow *
She was a trained martial artist, the heir to a school of martial arts.
Susan Ling was not a member of the ABB, because Lung might be a egotistical slaver and crime-lord, he wasn't entirely stupid. To keep the various groups functioning and loyal required more than the stick of pain and death. Some businesses were allowed to thrive because of cultural significance, or because they paid the protection fees, or due to some other factor that made them an exception to the rule of power and pain.
Susan Ling's family paid protection, that was true. Their abilities at martial arts would not have availed them against Lung, so they paid. They also had connections that were of use to Lung, which helped them to remain independent. When he needed something that wasn't traced back to the ABB in general or him in particular, the Ling family was one of those he could count on to acquire it.
That Susan Ling was a combat monster that craved a good fight was also well known. The reason the gangs at Winslow tended not to bother her was that she could literally rip someone's head off and use it on the now-corpse's buttocks as a suppository specifically so that they could see what a butthead they'd been.
Susan Ling was a petite Chinese girl, but she was not a nice petite Chinese girl.
That her opponent was one of those cheating parahumans just meant she had to find the right counter. Her family's martial arts style had been developed originally as a school for assassins after all. Finding the right way to kill someone required a certain mental and moral flexibility.
Her primary opponent, Sophia Hess, could turn to some shadowy state that allowed matter to pass right through her.
Oh, and that Emma Barnes who had started to interrupt the fight had just gotten hit in the throat hard enough that she was still choking and trying to breathe. If Susan could be bothered to sum that target up it would have been just 'pathetic' and left it at that. She should have known better after she'd thrust that finger into her face and she'd gotten slammed into the ground.
Sophia, on the other hand, was a challenge. Punches and kicks went through the shadow without any apparent effect. Trying any form of grappling was obviously out of the question. Otherwise she would have just used a chokehold, knocked the girl out, and left her in the corridor to re-evaluate her place in the pecking order.
Why did she avoid THAT wall and not THAT wall? It meant something but she wasn't sure what it meant. Sophia apparently had trouble with turning herself partially to shadow. Was that a hard or soft limitation on that ability?
Three times Susan had managed to get an extended arm or leg into a position where she could have snapped it. Three times the girl had went shadowy to avoid it.
It was intriguing but...
"You hit like my six-year-old sister," commented Susan.
Okay, so the shadow thing made this interesting but time-consuming. Winding the girl up so that she was losing control? So pathetically easy. She apparently wanted to be the lead rat in this rat nest of a school, but that just meant you were vermin. Outside the school you remained vermin.
The bell rang. Most of the crowd was dissipating as a result, not that everyone had stuck around anyway.
"This is getting boring, don't you have any other tricks?" Susan asked. Holding her own against a cheating damn cape was one thing, but this girl wasn't doing anything but the same attack pattern.
"You're going down, bitch! I don't lose," said Sophia.
"We're going to be late for class, you bimbo," responded Susan. "You want to take this up after school?"
"What's wrong with here and now?" asked Sophia.
"It could be that you're about to be busy," said Susan, backing away.
"Excuse me, Miss?" came a calm baritone voice.
Sophia half-turned, spotted freaking Armsmaster there, and realized the day had gotten a lot more complicated.
Taco, Dacshund. near Flash-level super-speed. Mover/Breaker.
Ace (formerly Gus), German Shepherd Dog, the Bat-dog. Thinker/Stranger.
Locke, giant English Bulldog, teleport discs. Brute/Mover, area effect teleport.
Hope, Corgi, able to form blue force-field constructs. Shaker/Blaster.
Hattori, ninja mouse, sword-wielder. Striker/Stranger.
Ayame, ninja mouse, pharmaceuticals expert, cosplayer. Stranger/Shaker.
Naru, ninja mouse, very genki. Stranger.
Sakura, ninja mouse, genjutsu specialist. Stranger/Master.
Scotty, Scottish Terrier, Tinker specialization: adaptive circuitry. Tinker.
Sufficient Claws, panther-like enhanced cat, works with BBPD Boardwalk patrol. Striker/Mover.
Smaug, dragon, works with PRT Troopers, aerial recon & assault. Striker/Mover.