Current Energy: 13

Current Training: None

Thursday, February 3rd, 2011

City Hall, Brockton Bay

Your Master stares pensively into the distance at the rising smoke. Her hand tightens imperceptibly around her cellphone, the message to stay away still scrolling across it.

You tense up, unsure of how she will respond. You can feel the frustration in her heart. Can sense her imminent need to do something, to help.

That's why you're not as surprised as you should be when she quickly pockets her cellphone, steps behind you, and speaks.

"Let me pick you up, we have to go." She says firmly.

You don't bother to question the order, or get embarrassed by the way she immediately sweeps you up into a princess carry. You just accept it for what it is and focus on what is ahead.

Because despite what's been said, your Master refuses to back down when faced with obvious danger.

"A-are you sure this is a good idea?" You ask, slightly worried. You arent really sure what the mechanics of the Butcher are. You cant recall a shard that's intended to behave in the way it's purported to. What's worse, while you're resolved to 'break some rules' as it were, you aren't sure if you could reasonably force the issue and prevent the thing from connecting to Taylor in a worst case scenario. If you had full access to all your permissions, maybe, or if you could directly communicate with the Warrior Hub to report it's abberant behaviour it might be shut down...

But you can't do any of those things. And it worries you to think about.

"I won't fight. Just get all the civilians out of the area. Promise." Taylor declares unyieldingly.

You don't like it, but you suppose you'll have to accept it.

Quickly dashing across the sky, you and your Master end up reaching the plume of smoke with time to spare, just in time to find the area has fallen into absolute chaos.

A small number of PRT soldiers have hunkered down behind an overturned personnel carrier. Gallant is among them, silver armor gleaming in the daylight, occasionally popping up to fire bolts of energy from his hands from the rear of the formation. Throughout the streets, men and women in what you can only really describe as tribal or cultist gear are running amok, howling with glee at the madness around them. Small groups of them are chasing what few pedestrians remain in the streets, firing heavily modified firearms haphazardly into the air to instill yet more terror.

In the center of the street, a short distance away from Gallant's group, Armsmaster is fighting, his expression thunderous as he twirls his halberd to fend off two other Parahumans who appear to be attack him in tandem. One is a medium sized dog like creature, that slavers and growls as it moves about, frantically darting in to nip at the heroes lower half. The other is a woman who fights with near catastrophic abandon, allowing Armsmasters slashing strikes to tear her skin apart. Yet, she seems unperturbed by the gruesome wounds, allowing her own blood to well up from them and then hardening immediately into ugly red, scab like armor.

As you examine the situation, a giant spike of rebar zips past, skewering a PRT officer, who's body is held aloft by it as it slams into the concrete behind him.

'Help Gallant!' Your Master orders you, throwing you towards the group being assaulted.

'What about you?' You ask as you hurtle forward, landing in just such a way as to fall on the shoulders of one of the roaming cultists, your weight and momentum immediately shattering them and driving him to the ground with a sickening crunch that you hope wasn't lethal.

'To help!' She replies instantly. Overhead, you see her rip open a gap and vanish into it.

'That's not-' You begin, but stop to turn and swing Long Memory outward, battering another tremendous skewer of metal out of the way and succinctly preventing it from murdering you.

Never mind. You should focus on your orders.

"Emmy?" Gallant asks you instantly, his head only turning towards you fractionally as the nearby PRT officers clear a path for you to him.

"Yes. What the heck is going on?" You ask him plaintively. As you do so, you turn to see a number of fleeing pedestrians vanish into a gap that appears from nowhere.

No, not nowhere, rather in the split second before the cultists would catch up to them, a sword pierced through the space in front if them. At a guess, it almost looks like your Master is in the Gap... and is navigating by triangulating using her ability to share your sight. You can even feel her doing it, peering out at the world through your eyes.

"We were transporting Uber and Leet to Boston when the Teeth attacked. They haven't tried to break anyone out, they just started attacking us." Gallant says, and you imagine that if you could see Dean's face beneath his helmet he would be grimacing. You notice the back of the transport is open, and that the aforementioned villains are nowhere to be found, but you quickly put it out of your mind. You wouldn't stay here if you didn't have to either you supposed.

"And... the Butcher?" You ask hesitantly, looking around you.

"She's-" Gallant begins to say but stops when you shoulder check him out of the way of another skewer. It almost doesnt work. You can see the thing course-correct mid-air as it approaches, forcing you to slap it out of the way with Long Memory. Your Aura reserves drain slightly for the effort, but the skewer slams into the concrete behind you having missed it's mark.

"She's doing that." He says bitterly.

You eye the still quivering rod behind you, tracing it's path backwards in confusion as you realize that there's no way it should have been able to hit you at the angle it was approaching from - especially not with the cover of the upturned vehicle between you and it.

"Butcher Fourteen can't miss." Gallant says, as if reading your mind. You blink at the information.

"Why is she attacking you specifically? Armsmaster is right there." You ask, turning back to him.

"I... may have made her feel some things when she first attacked." Gallant admits pensively.

"What things?" You ask incredulously, making sure to pan your gaze about whenever possible to help your Master evacuate people - something she has been doing using your peripheral vision throughout the course of the conversation.

"Remorse mostly." Gallant says, leaning out from behind cover to scour a group of cultists with more of his concussive blasts, bowling them over and then leaving them staring in horrified understanding at each other for the handful of seconds his Master power lasts. Of course, it wears off quickly, leaving the group a gibbering mess, but the effect gave the PRT troopers enough time to foam them to the ground with a vengeance, something they've been doing for a while now if the multitude of such foam clusters in the street is anything to go by.

'Help me get everyone else out - then we'll move the troopers and Armsmaster away.' Your Master requests urgently. You comply immediately of course, becoming intangible and jumping to stand atop the overturned wreck, panning your gaze in every direction possible. The results are both immediate and pronounced, as your Master quickly blitz's the area, having no need to travel the physical distance between points to create her Gaps. When it becomes apparent that all the bystanders are gone, she appears behind Armsmaster for a brief second. Just long enough to reach out and drag him backwards through the Gap she is in. This has the obvious side effect of alerting the two Capes he was fighting to a stalemate to your immediate presence. If they were less crazy, or merely more observant, they may have noticed you as you arrived, but you suppose they're a part of a Cult for a reason. Critical thinking probably isn't a very important skill to them.

Of course, this is ultimately meaningless, given the fiery explosion and the oddly dressed woman who sprints out of it, one gauntleted fist raised in challenge as she barrels towards the vehicle you are standing on.

'Master!' You call instantly, knowing that Gallant almost certainly won't be able to handle her. It's not an insult to the boy. Just the reality of things. Dean Stansfield is many things. A kind man. A good man. But he is, ultimately, not a man with very useful powers. Like many Parahumans you have encountered this cycle, his abilities seem markedly unregulated, as though his Shard wasn't aware of the necessary baseline from which to gather information before connecting.

Regardless, you put those thoughts out of mind and as you rematerialize just in time to swing Long Memory at what you can only presume is the Butcher. In hindsight, getting in melee range of an exploding teleporter with a danger sense may not have been wise, as you are immediately blasted with a gout of fire that drains yet more of your Aura. When the smoke and flame clear, you can tell that your Master has successfully evacuated Gallant and the others.

Mostly because of the baleful way the Butcher is staring over your shoulder at where they once were.

[May I?] Ozma asks suddenly. You consider it for a second, then mentally shrug and allow it. It isn't as though Ozma is less capable than you in any way. Quite the opposite in fact. Shoulders slackening, your postures abruptly relaxes as Ozma takes over your body.

"You remind me of a woman I knew once. She thought that power was the only thing that mattered." He says idly, taking a fencers stance with Long Memory. The Butcher doesn't actually answer you, but her eyes do flick back to you, as though only just registering that you were even still here.

'Why are you talking to her?' Your Master asks frantically. You can sort of... feel her... sitting in the veil just behind you. You're sure if she wanted to, she could reach out and yank you through a Gap faster than you could think to react.

"Because not all that wander are lost Miss Hebert." Ozma says plainly, eyeing the Butcher up and down. The woman has been curiously still during your internal conversation, and is now watching you from fifteen feet away like a cat who has just detected a mouse. It dawns on you for the first time, that for all the Butcher is described as an unstoppable force of nature, the person before you is really just a scarred looking asian woman.

'Did he just quote Tolkien at me? How do you even know what- look, that woman has two dozen ghosts screaming in her ear right now, and most of them are telling her to murder and eat you. Not necessarily in that order. Can we go?' Taylor says, sounding clearly on edge.

'You can hear what the voices in her head are saying?' You ask worriedly.

'No. I can hear the ghosts that follow her around like lost puppies screaming at her. Can we go?' She responds, correcting you instantly. The Butcher - possibly having sensed that you plan on leaving - suddenly lurches forward, her hand outstretched in the same way it was when she was attempting to approach Gallant.

You don't know what she was planning on doing, or if she even had a plan at all really, because Taylor yanks you backwards at that moment. You spend an nth of a second falling through nothing, before you are deposited on the ground in the middle of Trainwrecks garage. You recognize it because of how hideous it is.

The second you get your bearings, you stand, Ozma having relinquished his control sometime during the fall, and turn around, only to freeze.

Because Miss Militia is in the garage with her phone out, and is giving your Master a look you recognize from the many, many times you 'forgot' to do some of your chores and got scolded by your Aunt. And from the slightly sheepish look on Taylor's face when you turn to her, she knows it too.