Current Training: Half Devil Race Change (7/20) - (9/20)
Current Energy: 17
Monday, March 14th, 2011
The Devil May Cry, The Road
"Explain why we had to drive there again?" Jess asks nervously, holding on tightly to the side of the vehicle she was sitting on as though her life depended on it. Not because there was something chasing them, or because they were driving towards danger. No, Jess' discomfort and fear - mirrored by only about half the other occupants of the vehicle - were a result of one thing and one thing only.
"Training! Hey, I think I'm getting the hang of this actually!" Taylor calls back to her, pushing the truck into a sharp turn that nearly causes the entire extremely heavy apparatus to fishtail slightly before evening out and returning to the dangerously quick pace it was setting on its path up the road to Boston.
"Why did we have to be in the car for that!?" Clockblocker demands in a horrified tone.
"It's not a road trip if you don't travel the road!" You respond for your Master, who is much too busy focusing on learning to drive the tank to be able to formulate a good answer to the question.
"So travel it by yourself and portal us in you lunatic!" He barks back at you before seemingly realizing that you are, and almost always have been, drastically more dangerous than him.
"Ah quit being such a fucking baby. The boss enchanted this baby with her pseudo magic bullshit. Ain't nobody notice us going nowhere and ain't nobody gonna crash cus we just phase through em'." Trainwreck chortles.
It sort of went without saying but since Trainwreck made the thing, he had made sure that there was more than enough space for him to slot his armor into the rear of the tank… van… thing.
The fact that the docking mechanism for his armor also looked like it could extend through the roof in the form of a very large firearm went uncommented on but definitely noticed if the uncomfortable looks Dauntless periodically shoots at him were anything to go by.
Of course, that could just be the fact that he had tried to jump into Trainwreck's armor using his power before this trip had begun, and been summarily ejected.
"Sorry skinny, the ol' ball and chain don't share space too good," is the large Tinkers amused response.
"Language! And I promise you, seeing the entire contents of a chevy truck phase through you at two hundred miles per hour doesn't engender feelings of safety." Jess snaps at him.
"Now, now, I'm sure Nexus has taken-" Dauntless starts to say.
"Get off the road you slowpoke!" Your Master yells with a certain malicious glee as the tank phases through the back of an eighteen wheeler.
"...every precaution." he finishes in a whisper.
Now, the danger of what just happened aside... the fact that the vehicle you just drove through was actually traveling in the opposite direction, back to Brockton Bay aside...
You really don't think it's normal for dozens of women to be huddling in the back of an eighteen wheeler.
And neither does your Master, because she rapidly pulls the truck into a spin that would absolutely have killed you all if you weren't phasing through nearby objects, and then drives straight at the truck again.
"Oh god, oh fuck, what the fuck-" Clockblocker begins to babble as she picks up speed above and beyond what she had previously described as a 'safe' speed limit for her enhanced reflexes.
Cars whip past you at speed, not visible through any window to the rear passengers, but rather, as a result of them passing through the rear carriage as Taylor overtakes them.
Simone - the last passenger - remains largely silent during all of this. She is seemingly more entertained by everyone else's distress than anything she could say would achieve, and is thus swiveling her head left and right with barely contained glee whenever someone else freaks out.
"I think I have a new favorite thing!" Taylor screams, drawing her sword up and holding it straight up so that she can cleave a gap straight across the bottom of the inside of the trailer, picking up all of those poor women and then depositing them - presumably - at the Heap.
"Road Trips?" You ask, entirely unruffled by the high speed maneuvering.
"Driving. I gotta get my license as soon as that's a thing." She says happily.
"She doesn't even have a learner's permit?!" Dauntless screams behind you.
"I never needed one." You respond with a shrug.
You notice that Clockblocker has actually passed out - and is now just hanging from his harness against the wall.
Eh. You're sure he'll wake up soon enough.
Monday, March 14th, 2011
International Longshoremen's Association, Boston
"Hello, I'm here for a meeting with a Mister Bluthe?" Your Master says politely to the young woman manning the front desk of the building. Prior to the meeting she had changed into a tweed jacket, a white undershirt, and a pair of slacks - all apparently belonging to her mother. She was quite insistent on wearing them for this business meeting, which is unfortunate because they don't fit very well. They still look well enough on her - but there is the distinct impression of a child wearing her mother's clothing.
Because that's exactly what it is.
"Hmm? Oh sweety, if you've got a parent that works here you need to have them come out to get you; we can't let you into the building otherwise." The woman says politely. It's not an insult, you don't think, but neither is it particularly charitable given that your Master literally just said what she was here for.
The man you are here to meet is not actually a part of the association. The meeting however is taking place here because of the importance the rail line your Master is trying to purchase holds for the longshoremen. Before the line stopped running years ago, it was a major source of goods for them to be moving.
"You know if I just appear behind you…" you offer.
"No, no. I actually kind of miss this. Dave - the guy over at the Mayor's office? He doesn't even blink when I pass through anymore." She sends to you.
You turn to stare at your Master, suddenly realizing that the ill fitting outfit might not have been entirely unintentional and shivering slightly at the very slight smirk tugging at the edges of her mouth.
"No, I really just need you to direct me to the meeting room Mister Bluthe is supposed to meet me in." Your Master repeats in a friendly tone. You can actually see what she's thinking right now. This is the out for this poor secretary. The olive branch extended in friendship. If she just gets over herself long enough to check and see that a meeting is supposed to take place…
"Is Mister Bluthe your Father? Let me just page and get him to come up for you." The secretary repeats, a vague hint of exasperation filtering into her tone.
"I really don't think-" Taylor starts to say, obviously nonplussed by the condescension.
"Can I please have a Mister Bluthe to the front desk, a Mister Bluthe to the front desk - thank you."
Taylor tilts her head at the sudden announcement, no doubt pondering how to work this course of action into her prank. Then she gets a panicked look on her face and asks;
"Hey so, this Bluthe guys isn't your boss or anything right? He can't get you fired?"
"I don't even know who that is. Why?" She responds, perhaps just self aware enough to realize something weird is going on. She'd have realized it a lot sooner if she could see you, but sadly you are currently invisible.
"Because pranks are only funny if no one gets hurt," Taylor explains just as a portly man in a tailored suit grumpily stomps into the room.
"Woman, are you new? Do you not understand how meeting rooms work? You meet in the room. Honestly no wonder you people have no work - you're all useless. Nexus! How good to see you!" He growls at the secretary before turning a simpering smile on your Master.
Two things happen in that moment.
The secretary seems to finally understand what is happening and who she was talking to, and your Master makes the conscious decisions to change targets to the man before you.
Very little irks her quite like someone insulting the dock workers, even if they aren't the ones she is familiar with.
Five minutes later, both the portly man and your Master are seated across from one another at a large table that has a small area to one side full of more bagels, smears, and donuts than either of the two could reasonably manage to consume.
"So, I understand you wish to purchase the rights to the line heading from Brockton to Boston." The man starts diplomatically.
"Sorta. I mean, I do want that, but I also had some other business to attend to in town." Taylor says enigmatically. The businessman frowns for a moment before his expression smooths back into his previous greasy smile.
"Well see, I took the time to meet you Miss Hebert - can I call you that or do you prefer Nexus? - but yes, I took the time to meet you because you see, my business doesn't just own that line, it owns a number of them - many of which are still active and connected to the Brockton line. I can't sell you just that line and-"
"Cool. I'll take it." Taylor says absentmindedly. You can tell she is exaggerating because she punctuates the statement by lazily reaching over for a bagel to gnaw on while peering - seemingly innocently - at the man's response.
"I'm sorry? Little girl, you obviously have no idea how-" He begins, the pretense of pleasantness falling away in the face of the disrespect.
"Totally do. See, your company is publicly traded. I wanted to come have a nice chat, give you my money, then get back to solving the problems in my hometown - but my secretary told me that it probably wouldn't be so simple. Sooooo, she pulled up a list of everyone who owns stocks in your company, helped me buy the rest of your - failing by the way - stock options, and then went down the list offering services or cash for stocks other people owned. I'm actually surprised you didn't know this already but I guess you were just busy." She says with a shrug.
"That- you can't just-" The man blusters.
"Totally can. It's crazy what rich people can get away with. So. Cards on the table. I'm not quite your boss - I don't really get how stocks work so, that's kind of annoying - but I am on your board of directors. I'm going to be talking to the other directors about injecting some of my own money into your failing company in order to get things moving again. I was hoping to do this whole dramatic 'this wasn't a trade deal, it was a performance review' shtick and then fire you - but again, I'm somehow not your boss even though I own most of your stock now." Taylor says, frowning for a moment before shrugging it off.
"Still, I'd say odds are good the superwoman with magic powers and an infinite amount of cash to inject into the business will be worth more to the board than whatever it is you do. Smoke super expensive cigars I guess." She finishes.
At this point the man is staring with mouth agape at your Master, which - all things considered - is pretty reasonable as far as having the rug pulled out from under you goes.
You are about to comment on this to Taylor, when you feel the temperature in the area directly behind the man - where you are also standing - begin to rise.
Faster than anyone else in the room can think to respond, you manifest physically and kick the businessman's rolling chair to the side, then spin around and take a casual seat on the table facing away from it.
Just in time for an explosive conflagration to disgorge a woman in Mad Max style samurai armor.
"Butcher! My god it's been ages. Hey, how are the kids?" You ask pleasantly, ignoring the heat, the force of the explosive teleportation, and the huge serrated nodachi that just went straight through your sternum, the table, and the floor beneath it.
"Aaand that's my other appointment for today." Taylor says with a smile, cleaving open a Gap and sending the Butcher's almost victim off to safety.
Probably not safety he would appreciate, let alone the trip itself, but safety nonetheless.
With a snap of her fingers, her clothes light up, instantly becoming her costume as you lift a foot and kick the slightly confused woman who just stabbed you in the chest so hard she goes flying through the opposite wall and out into the street.
Taylor moves to give chase but you cough to get her attention and gesture at the blade still sticking out of you.
"Little help?" you ask. She rolls her eyes at you, then yanks the blade free, dropping it to the ground nearby.
Being the distraction isn't your strong suit but it's not like you hate the idea of messing around with a hot chick while Trainwreck and the others find Valefor.
You just hope the Butcher doesn't wise up and realize you aren't trying very hard.
Monday, March 14th, 2011
The Devil May Cry, Boston
Clockblocker
"Everyone know the plan?" Trainwreck asks, and for the life of him, Dennis couldn't remember being told a plan. Thankfully, Dauntless apparently felt the same way - so he didn't have to speak up to voice his own ignorance.
Always good to have an adult around who can look stupid for you.
"No. You never told us a plan." His senior partner bit out.
So far, Dauntless had been… less than appreciative of the way the Oathbound did things. At first he had been quite pleased with liaison duty. They hung out in the castle, poked around the unfinished mall area, and generally just did whatever they wanted with whoever was around. It had always struck Dennis that Dauntless preferred the more casual environment.
At first.
As the days went by it became more and more obvious that they were almost entirely rudderless. Nobody really asked them to do anything, the Oathbound themselves seemed to just do whatever they wanted without any rhyme, reason, or schedule to it, and overall very little got done.
Or perhaps it just felt like very little got done. The lack of paperwork, or offices of really any kind was just… very different to what Dennis was used to.
"Yeah that's fair. Usually the plan is just to go beat the shit out of a problem. Works for us most of the time. We got this team shit down pat, ya know?" Trainwreck answered distractedly. Probably because he was currently driving the vehicle through some means that eluded Dennis.
"I'll explain if you don't mind, Uncle." The other super weird thing about today spoke up.
Dennis had to wonder where the hell these people came from, but it was starting to feel like the Oathbound only attracted weirdos. She'd barely spoken to him, but the pale blonde woman just creeped him the hell out. It didn't help that every time he turned to look at her she was looking directly back at him - like she was just waiting for him to try and catch a glimpse of her or ask her a question.
"Okay this is gonna bug me forever if I don't get it out now, but - 'Uncle'?" Dennis found himself asking before his self preservation instinct could nix the thought.
The woman peered at him for a moment, obviously about to explain in some fashion, but a quick look out the front window of the vehicle made her change tacts.
"Look, I'll tell you later. Just call me Simone for now - cape names are for capes." She quickly said. Dennis found himself even more confused than before. She was wearing a costume. She was in a Tinkertech Tank on her way to attack one of the most feared Masters on the planet. She was either a Cape - or extremely stupid.
"So here's the deal, that skinny little cretin typically has between two and four other capes with him at any given moment. He's on an independence kick right now so odds are good he just has Eligos and the two he stole from lock up with him. Night and Shadow Sta-"
"Predator. Shadow Stalker was a hero in good standing." Dauntless interjects. Simone snorts, but continues her explanation.
"Night and Predator then. Regardless. You are no doubt familiar with those two, being Brockton natives themselves. Eligos is…" Simone paused, eyeing the front window again as though trying to figure out how much time she had left - which evidently turned out to be 'not much' since when she turned back to them her explanation wasn't all that much of an explanation at all.
"Eligos is a discount Storm Tiger. Everything he can do, Storm Tiger did better, with exception for the fact that his slicing wind blades boomerang back to him. There, now you know the plan." She finished, quickly unbuckling herself from her seat and placing a dainty hand on her sword.
"That wasn't a plan- it was a description of who we expect to fight." Dauntless said tersely.
"Oh. I suppose it was. Ramming speed Uncle dearest!" She called out while bracing herself.
"Suuuper fucking creepy." Trainwreck muttered, even as the vehicle began to rapidly pick up speed, causing vehicles, people, and even buildings to phase past them at an ever increasing rate.
"Oh you love it, you big softy. See if you can clip Eligos for me will you? It will make things easier later." Simone answered in a sing-song voice.
"I can only track the shape shifting one. Never tagged the others." Trainwreck responds.
"Please explain the plan before we enter combat!?" Dennis all but begged.
But it was too late.
And in that moment, Dennis understood. He found within him a stolid appreciation and even love of the stifling, procedural, bureaucratic way the PRT did everything. He swore to himself, in that moment, as the tank he was in popped back into existence inside the main floor of an apartment complex, slamming furniture, walls, and in one case, a person out of the way - that he would never make fun of Miss Piggy ever again.
Except for that. He let himself have that one - for stress relief.
"End of the line fuckers!" Trainwreck roared as the apparatus he was latched to fired him out of the tank and out of sight.
"Ugh. You're sure this thing will protect my body?" Fleur asked, before receiving a smiling nod from Simone. Then she went limp.
"Clock. I'm with you, okay? I promise nothing will happen to you." Dauntless spoke, drawing Dennis' from his somewhat shellshocked reverie.
"I also promise that nothing will happen to you. But, y'know, sexier." Simone opined, before turning and stepping out of the open rear of the vehicle.
Dennis stared after her for a second before feeling a nudge from Dauntless next to him. The man shot him a smile from behind his thinner, more streamlined costume - and then vanished in a bolt of electricity.
"Okay. Okay I got this. Everyone from Brockton is like, a memetic badass right? That's a thing, right?" He muttered to himself, unstrapping himself from his harness and pushing himself to his feet - then rushing out the back of the truck.
The lobby was a bloody warzone. Simone was nowhere to be seen. Valefor was nowhere to be seen. Instead, the entire area was filled with normal civilians who were hurling themselves at Trainwreck with fervor, even as the titanic tinker battled with Night - who was darting in and out of view just long enough to reset any damage dealt to her while harassing Trainwreck with attacks that rasped against his armor.
The tinker himself seemed to be almost gentle in his reprisals though. Seemingly not putting overmuch strength into any attacks, while also gingerly stepping around the Mastered civilians. It was at once, totally reasonable and yet not at all what Dennis had been expecting from the foul mouthed man. In his experience, and in reports he had gotten to look at on the console, the Oathbound had a tendency towards… well, ultra violence. They made liberal and frequent use of those paper tag things that prevented them from killing people, which meant that Brockton General Hospital had gotten exceptionally good at dealing with lethal injuries that were - for no reason at all - not even slightly lethal.
Last he'd heard of it actually, the hospitals were actively requesting access to the things themselves - to mitigate the risks of surgery.
"Above us." Dauntless quickly informed him, and Dennis rapidly flicked his arms into the air so that the wrist mounted wire launchers Kid had built him fired upward.
On their own, the things did what they said on the tin. They launched a stable cable of metal from his wrist that he could either use his power on, or otherwise swing from in order to move around. It was an excellent addition to his otherwise very slow moving power set, and provided a decent ranged offensive option in a pinch too.
But the things only fired in a straight line.
Which was not at all what was happening right now.
The minute the upgraded weapon fired, Dauntless had taken control of it, weaving the cabling into an electrified net overhead just in time for a shadowy figure to fall towards him.
There was a burst of electrical energy, a shrill screech of pain, and then Shadow Stalker rolled off of the protective dome and to the floor across from him.
And she looked like shit. She was still wearing the orange jumpsuit of any prisoner, but it was stained and ripped, like she had been living in a combination garbage dump slash junkyard. Burn marks, cuts, and even a visible brand were visible on her exposed skin - evidence of torture - and for just the briefest of moments, Dennis felt genuine pity for the girl.
She may have done a lot. Probably as much, if not more, than some of the local villains nowadays. But nobody deserved… this.
So Clockblocker did what he always did. He took stock of his situation, readied himself, and got ready to save someone.
Monday, March 14th, 2011
Apartment Complex, Boston.
Valefor
This was fine.
This could still work.
Valefor - he had never had anything but a Cape name - charged through the hallways of his impromptu trap, racing towards the stairwell so he could make his escape through the roof. Those idiots had managed to make a portable version of the device that let him safely hide from Nexus - but he had to be fairly high up to use it. It was a weakness that would have made finding him fairly easy if anyone had managed to figure it out, but so far he had been more than capable of obscuring that fact.
He just had to get away from this new freak his beloved had conjured up to deal with him.
"'Beloved' implies affection. I'm not certain you know what that feels like." Her melodious voice crooned from somewhere… behind him?
He turned in his sprint just enough to glance over one shoulder at the beautiful nightmare that was drifting steadily behind him - seemingly unbothered by his pace.
It was almost insulting how much it mirrored the Simurgh. A seraphic appearance, with six beautiful wings gently pushing it around, unbothered by the size or complexity of the terrain around her. Two smaller wings covered it's eyes, and a golden ring spun lazily behind her.
It was only upon closer inspection that the angel-like appearance gave way to the true horror. The myriad eyes that gazed back at him from all along the ring's surface.
He forced himself to look away, instead of responding to the whispered insult, pushing his thin body as hard as he could. Perhaps the thing could only move so quickly. Maybe it was taunting him because it… couldn't catch up to him? That would track with everything else he knew about his fellows.
Girded by the knowledge that he could succeed, Valefor pressed onward.
"And really, I don't think I can even name another 'schemer' who thinks in such straight lines. There are gimps with snake motifs who could have done better." The vision chided him. There was a rush of air just as he turned a corner, and he caught another glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye.
"Shut up! You sacrilegious abomination! I will have my bride! You will sit at my feet and beg for my attention when-" He barked angrily at her, unaccustomed to criticism of really any kind, then trailed off.
He just had to reach… to reach…
Where was he going? Why couldn't he remember where he was going? It was… the device had to be… up. He had to go up.
"You know, Mother dearest is… well, not forgiving, but far too lazy to inflict vengeance on the people who deserve it." The voice mused, as he burst through the door to the stairwell, the building shaking around him as the fighting behind him picked up in ferocity.
He was surprised to find the thing directly in front of him, all of its myriad eyes locked directly on his own.
Then he blinked and it was gone again.
So he held to what he knew he had to do - which was get upstairs.
For… some reason.
"You see, unlike my Mother - who is quite lazy, or my progenitor - who was more prone to breaking minds than anything else, I appear to have been 'born' with a particular proclivity in mind." The whispery smooth voice echoed up the stairwell behind him.
He couldn't even remember what he was running from, but he knew he had to run from it.
"Rather than break minds, or as Mother is wont to do, 'blow' minds, I seem to have something of a taste for, well, eating them. Tell me, skinny boy, do you remember your name? Your mother's face? Your favorite food? I certainly do." A voice called to him.
Skinny boy stopped on the flight of stairs he was on to ponder that for a moment.
What… was his favorite food?
"I- think it was… red?" He tried, feeling a deep upwelling of frustration and despair ripple through him even though he couldn't tell why he felt that way.
"No, no it wasn't." Spoke the angel as it appeared gently before him again. Some lingering instinct told him he should try to use his power on her, to claim her for his own.
But… he couldn't actually remember how to use his power. Or… what his power even was. Rather, he found himself slowly sitting on the ground, in the corner of the stairwell. He wanted to be able to stare at the beautiful thing for just a bit longer. Just a bit longer, then he would… something.
He didn't make it all the way to the ground, because he had forgotten how to stand part way there, but he didn't really… care. He just used what little willpower he had left to turn his head so he could keep staring at the vision of beauty.
Until finally all he could really remember was how to breathe… and how to make sure his eyes were trained fully on her.
Until even that was stolen from him.
And all that was left, was consciousness, and shallow breathing.
Nothing more.
Monday, March 14th, 2011
Apartment Complex, Boston.
You arrive at the rest of the team's location without much fanfare.
"How'd your end go?" Your Master asks as she lazily throws an unconscious - probably forever - Butcher to the ground just outside the building.
"Eh. Bit of a pain to manage without hurting nobody who didn't deserve it. Think I crippled this Eligos guy when I ran him over." Trainwreck answers with a shrug.
"Please don't say you crippled a man and then act like you don't care in public." Jess sighs from next to him, tugging on her body's clothes to arrange them after having no doubt being disheveled.
"Yeah dude, that's kind of bad PR." Clockblocker points out from where he was slowly dragging unconscious civilians into neat little lines to be seen to by paramedics, along with Dauntless.
"I don't wanna fucking hear that from you sparky." Trainwreck snapped back at the teen.
"That wasn't me! It was him!" Clock defends himself, gesturing at Dauntless who turns away as if to ignore the entire conversation.
"Alright boys, you're both very pretty. Where's Simone?" Taylor asks, rolling her eyes at the duo's antics.
"Here~" The attra- your sister says pleasantly, skipping out of a hallway while dragging a drooling guy by the back of his shirt like a sack of potatoes.
"Hah. Got you now you skinny-" Taylor pauses, then squints at him.
"Is he okay?" She asks instead of finishing her previous statement.
"He's breathing, isn't he?" Simone says, smiling sweetly at the both of you.
Well. You can't argue with that.