Call Chapter 1: Refusing the Call, a x-overs fanfic

Refusing the Call

by Htabdoolb

When Destiny comes a-knocking, Taylor tells it 'keep on walking'.

-Chapter One-

"Sir, sorry to bother you, but I've got a situation down here in the lobby that may require your attention."

Armsmaster glanced up from his workbench, frowning slightly at the interruption to his tinkering. He reached over to his display and switched to the PRT headquarters' internal security cameras. Specifically, the ones lining the lobby. A quick glance revealed that nothing seemed to be on fire, exploding, melting, or covered in containment foam. Which meant that whatever it was that the front desk receptionist wanted, it probably wasn't an emergency, and could wait the additional fourteen point three seconds it would take for him to reach a good stopping point in his rather delicate work.

"What's the problem?" he replied, after setting his tools down approximately fifteen seconds later.

"I've got a civilian here who says that she found something that might be tinkertech.." the receptionist said. "..she'd like to turn it in to us for safekeeping. Her words."

"What does the device look like? How large is it?" he asked, already strapping his helmet into place. "Does she know what it does?"

"It appears to be a fairly large ring, sir. Sort of a metallic green color, with a logo or emblem on its face." answered the receptionist. "Like a college sports ring, only not quite as.. gaudy."

"Is she wearing it?"

"No, she has it in an envelope." said the receptionist. "She says that she doesn't know what exactly it does, because she wasn't fool enough to put it on and find out.. again, her words, sir."

Well, whoever this woman was, she had some sense at least. Found or scavenged tinkertech was one of the hazards of living in a world with parahumans, and was (most unfortunately) a statistically significant proportion of parahuman related injuries and deaths each year. Apparently some people just couldn't resist pressing buttons that they really ought not to..

"On my way." he stated, stepping out of his workshop in his full patrol armor, with one of his smaller Unknown Tinkertech Containment Units (i.e., a sturdy metal box) held in his left hand.

"Why does she believe it to be tinkertech?" he asked, while waiting for the elevator.

The response to his question came slower than he'd have preferred, as did the elevator.

"Oh dear.." murmured the receptionist over the line, causing Armsmaster to tense up slightly. "..apparently because the ring has been talking to her, sir. You might want to hurry."

"Be there in thirty." Armsmaster replied curtly, already pushing open the door to the stairwell.

A potential Master/Stranger scenario. He despised them so much.

He didn't quite run, but he did take the stairs several at a time. Thankfully, what he found waiting for him in the lobby was a normal, peaceful scene, with still nothing having caught fire/exploded/melted/been con-foamed. He relaxed his jog to a fast walk, approaching the lobby area from behind the security barriers. He spotted the civilian at once, standing before one of the bullet-proof glass-shielded reception desks, just as the agent behind the desk waved him over.

The woman was actually a girl, who was probably only in her mid teens, though a little on the tall side for her age. Large glasses sat upon her nose, and her face was framed by a full head of thick, curly, well cared for black hair. And in one pale hand was a plain white envelope, presumably containing the possibly tinkertech ring.

"Oh, good." she said upon seeing him, sounding a little exasperated. "You're here. I can finally get rid of this thing."

Taylor Hebert sat across the table from Armsmaster. The unassuming green ring that she'd brought with her was residing within his securely sealed tinkertech containment unit, which was in turn set aside on the tabletop. They were in an otherwise empty "interview" (Master/Stranger screening) room.

"Where did you find the ring?" he asked, noting things down even as everything said and done within the room was automatically monitored and recorded.

"On the sidewalk, right outside of my house." the girl answered.

Truthfully, if the recently finished stress-detector in his helmet was finally functioning properly.

"What did you do with it when you found it?"

"Picked it up." she replied with a shrug. "I thought it was just a normal ring, at first. Then it started speaking to me."

"What did you do then?"

"Dropped it, of course." she replied promptly, as if the question hardly needed asking. "An inanimate object that starts talking to you, well.. it seemed like the kind of thing from which nothing good can come, you know?"

"You weren't curious about it? About what it might be able to do?" he asked, raising his eyebrows curiously behind his helmet's visor.

The girl paused for a moment, as if considering her answer carefully.

"A fantasy book I once read had one of the characters recite a rule for dealing with things that can talk for themselves.." she replied, arching her own eyebrows up in unknowing imitation. "..paraphrased, it was: 'If you can't see where it keeps its brain, don't trust it.' We don't live in a fantasy world, but it still seemed applicable to the situation."

"I see."

It was, Armsmaster reflected, not a bad rule to follow in general. Given the weirdness that generally surrounded parahumans, not to mention the rather nasty manipulation and control abilities that some parahumans in particular had, a certain amount of healthy skepticism and distrust of anything unknown was simply a modern survival trait.. all of which went double for unfamiliar tinkertech items.

Because tinkertech the ring most assuredly was. It showed up like a beacon on most of his helmet's passive scans, and seemed to be emitting all sorts of exotic energies. Nothing dangerous (probably) given the very tiny amounts involved.. but still worrying. Especially since the ring could apparently communicate with people. Mental influencing could be very insidious, which was why the interview with the girl was taking place in one of nicer the M/S screening rooms. More involved scans of the ring-like device would have to wait until he got back to his workroom, preferably the one with better equipment back on the Rig.

"I was going to just leave it there, but then it occurred to me that someone else might stumble across it too." Taylor supplied without prompting. "So I figured that it was better that only one person be exposed, and scraped it into an envelope, and then brought it straight here."

"Hmm.." Armsmaster hummed thoughtfully. "..And did it keep trying to communicate with you the whole time you had it on your person?"

"No, only when I was touching it directly."

Well, that was good news, at least.

"What did it say to you when you were holding it? And how long exactly were you holding it for?"

"Well, it surprised me when it started talking, so it was probably half a minute or so before I thought to drop it.." Taylor answered. "Plus, it was going on and on about finally finding a 'worthy bearer', or something like that. There was also something about willpower and 'facing my fears' in there too."

"Honestly, it all sounded like so much nonsense to me." the girl concluded, shaking her head. "I mean, the last thing it said before I dropped it was even: 'Wait! Don't you want to be a Hero?'. How ridiculous."

"You.. don't want to be a hero?" Armsmaster asked, blinking in surprise at the strength of the girl's reaction.

"Hah, no." the girl replied, with a dismissive snort. "I'd rather do something productive with my life, thanks."

"..er, no offense." she finished, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly.

Apparently she had finally remembered who exactly it was that she was speaking to: the leader of the Protectorate East-North-East, a man who had dedicated his entire adult life to aspiring to be the best hero that he could possibly be.. in direct emulation of his own mentor, a man even called Hero.

"..none taken." he said, after a long moment's silence.

"..so anyway, are we done here?" Taylor asked, sitting up straight in her chair. "The ring's your problem now, so I can go, right?"

"You don't feel like there are any lingering after effects of your exposure to the ring?" Armsmaster asked, tapping an armored finger on the table. "No unusual impulses, or ideas you might normally find strange?"

"Mmnope." the girl replied, shrugging. "I mostly just feel relieved that it's all out of my hands, now."

"Mostly?" he inquired, tilting his head. "What else are you feeling?"

"Er, honestly.. like I've got to go to the bathroom." Taylor said, fidgeting in place slightly. "Seriously, it's been several hours. The bus ride over here took forever."

Armsmaster watched the girl walk out of the PRT lobby, having escorted her out of the building himself. After making time to stop off at the nearest restroom, of course. The ring she had left in his care loomed large in his thoughts, a mystery waiting to be unraveled. Another part of his mind was dwelling on an entirely separate mystery, though: namely, one Taylor Hebert.

The girl who, by her own admission, didn't want to be a hero. How very strange. Idly, he wondered if he'd ever see her again.. the answer to which was almost surely not, he thought.

He would later come to realize and rue just how wrong he was about that.

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Threadmarks Chapter Two

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htabdoolb

Jul 26, 2020

-Chapter Two-

The low buzz of an incoming communication roused Armsmaster from his regularly scheduled early morning power nap. He took a moment to allow himself to come fully awake, breathing deeply several times in order to most efficiently regain the full measure of his conscious intellect, then sat up and hit the receive button.

"Armsmaster here." he stated, a bit brusquely.

His nap had been interrupted, after all.

"I apologize for disturbing you sir.." came the reply. "..but there's someone here in the lobby who'd like to surrender what appears to be a set of parahuman related armaments. Possibly tinkertech in origin."

"Hmm.. what kind of armaments?" he responded, standing up from his customized, ergonomically enhanced, and really rather comfortable folding nap chair. A press of a button along one edge caused it to slide away seamlessly into the wall.

"A shield and war-hammer of some kind, sir."

"Dimensions?"

"The shield is round, and somewhat less than a meter in diameter. The hammer is.. rather bulky, though the handle isn't very long. Approximately fifty or sixty centimeters in total length, give or take."

"Understood. I'll be down in a few moments." he stated, collecting one of his medium sized Unknown Tinkertech Containment Units (which was a slightly larger sturdy metal box than the previous one).

This was the second time in less than twenty-four hours that someone had brought in something like this to the PRT. It wasn't actually uncommon for tinkertech to be found by civilians and turned in, but two such events happening so close together was.. concerning. Especially since most found tinkertech was usually recovered from around the scene of a parahuman related crime (or worse.. battle). Which raised the question: was there a new tinker running around in Brockton Bay? And if so, were they an established cape who had moved in from somewhere else, or a fresh trigger? And what exactly had they been doing in his town over the past few days that resulted in multiple instances of lost tinkertech?

Hopefully the person who had brought in the items would be able to shed some light on the subject. If nothing else, they'd be able to tell him where they had found the things at, which would at least give him another data point to work with.

"Who brought in the items, by the way?" he asked as the elevator meandered down toward the lobby, stopping at nearly every floor on the way.

"Some kid by the name of Herb.. sorry, say that again?" came the muffled response, as the sound of a phone being pressed up against fabric rustled over the line. "Sorry sir.. some kid named Hebert. Taylor Hebert."

Armsmaster stiffened, then jammed his finger onto the elevator's ground floor button again, cursing its slowness.

Once again, Taylor Hebert sat across from Armsmaster. On the table between them were the items the girl had brought in: A round, dish-shaped metal shield, and a heavy hammer with a large, boxy metal head and sturdy, leather wrapped handle.

"Where exactly did you find these weapons?" he asked, eyeing the girl somewhat suspiciously from behind his visor.

"About five blocks from my house, in the direction of Lord's Market." she replied, before giving him an exact address.

"How did you come across them?"

"I damn.. er, darn near tripped over them, that's how." the girl stated crossly. "I was just doing my normal morning jog, running along the sidewalk. I looked off to one side for a moment.. and then when I looked back in the direction I was running, there they were, laying right on concrete. Directly in front of my feet."

She quietly thumped the polished surface of the shield as she said this, obviously irritated by the thing's existence.

"I would swear that they hadn't been there just a moment before. Like I said, I even had to jump over them so they didn't trip me up, because I couldn't stop in time to avoid them."

"I see." Armsmaster replied, frowning. "That raises even more questions, though. Aside from their sudden appearance, what made you think that they were tinkertech? Did they try to communicate with you, too?"

He already knew that they were, of course. The anomalous scans his helmet's sensors were showing him proved that without a doubt, but he wanted to hear her own reasons (and also if he needed to take extra M/S precautions when examining the things).

"No, these didn't talk to me, thankfully. There is this.." she replied, rolling her eyes in annoyance and picking up the handle of the bulky hammer. "..for one thing, though."

She balanced it easily on one index finger, by the handle no less. She barely had to steady it at all to keep it standing up perfectly straight.. but more concerning was the fact that she should have struggled to lift the heavy thing at all, even with both arms together, let alone with a single finger by itself. That the hammer actually weighed a substantial amount was proven by the loud thump, shudder, and groan that ran through the stressed wood of the table when she set it back down.

"The shield is much lighter than it should be, too." she continued, picking up the round object and hefting it easily into place with one arm. "And then there's the fact that it doesn't make hardly any sound if you hit it."

She knocked on it with her knuckles to demonstrate, and no noise resulted from her actions.

"Fascinating.." he mused, and reached out a finger to tap the red, white, and blue painted surface himself.

Instead of the distinctive metal on metal clang that he expected to hear from his gauntlet encased fingertip hitting the shield, there was only a faint 'tink!' that was just barely audible in the quiet room.

"Miss Hebert.." he asked, watching her expression closely as she set the oddly silent shield back down. "..are you a parahuman?"

"What? No.." she answered quickly, shaking her head firmly. "..no, not to the best of my knowledge."

Her response was not quite as clear to his stress-sensor (which wasn't actually a lie-detector, no matter how much he might wish it was) as he would have preferred, but that could be chalked up to the girl's obvious irritation at having her day be once again disrupted.

"So then, you didn't make these things, or the ring from yesterday?" he pressed, leaning forward slightly.

"Nope. I have no idea where they came from originally."

That response came out clear and clean on his stress-sensor, to his slight disappointment. He'd actually been a little hopeful that the girl in front of him was his unknown tinker. Given the reasonable head that she seemed to have on her shoulders, she might have made a good addition to his wards team if so. Certainly better than the tinker they currently had, anyway.

"I see."

There was silence for a moment, the girl not saying anything further as Armsmaster considered the things on the table between them.

"Did you find out what the story was with that ring?" Taylor asked, tilting her head curiously.

"..No. My scans were inconclusive." he replied, not mentioning the fact that whatever the ring was or did, it seemed to have an enormous amount of energy contained within it, if nothing else. "Subject to the director's approval, we may do a few contact experiments later today or tomorrow. Assuming a volunteer or two steps forward, of course."

"..What kind of idiot would volunteer to play around with unknown tinkertech?"

"PRT agents looking for hazard pay and overtime." he responded simply.

"I.. see." she said, still sounding rather skeptical. "Well, is that everything, then? I haven't had breakfast yet, so I'd like to get home soon."

He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, then reached to his utility belt and pulled out one of his cards.

"Miss Hebert, given that you've found and turned in items that may have been dangerous to the public twice in as many days, I'd like to give you my contact details." he said, sliding the card across the table to her. "My official protectorate number, anyway."

"Er.. okay, but why?" she asked, staring at (but not picking up) the little white laminated card he was offering to her.

"While it might be simply a coincidence that you've found tinkertech items two days in a row.." he said slowly, tapping his fingers against the table thoughtfully. "..it might also not be. I'd like for you to be able to contact me if you come across something else. Especially if you find more weapons, since not everything a tinker might make will be as relatively harmless as this shield and that hammer."

He silently flicked the shield for emphasis, inwardly marveling at its apparent sound dampening qualities.

"I suppose that that makes sense.." the girl said, with a put upon sigh. "..but I really hope that this doesn't become a regular thing. Thanks."

"I hope so, too." Armsmaster replied, as the girl picked up and tucked away his contact information. "I don't relish the idea of tinkertech littering up my city. If you do need to call me though, that number is a direct line to my helmet. Please don't abuse it, or give it out to anyone else."

"Of course not." she stated, as if the idea was unthinkable.

Armsmaster escorted Taylor Hebert out to the lobby once more, watched her depart, then returned to the M/S screening room. He picked up the red, white, and blue shield and examined it closely. Whatever material it was made out of, he wasn't familiar with it. Hopefully he could replicate it, or at least some of it's properties. Even aside from its sound absorption abilities, which were interesting enough in their own right, the shield seemed extremely light for its size. Especially given how sturdy he suspected it might be.

One didn't make a shield out of a weak material, after all. It could be a real upgrade for his armor if he could incorporate such a thing into its next redesign.

Nodding to himself, he slid the shield into his containment unit, then moved to pick up the hammer..

..only to nearly dislocate his shoulder when it refused to move the slightest amount.

Frowning down at the thing, he rolled his shoulders and took a better, two handed hold on the handle and heaved.. and nearly threw out his back, while also failing to budge the hammer even a single millimeter from its position on the table.

He rubbed gingerly at his lower spine, red faced and bent over slightly, as he glared at the thing that seemed to weigh a literal ton.

Perhaps he had been a bit hasty in letting the girl leave it with him. Clearly something strange was going on, especially with the vague sense of unease (or unworthiness) that he'd felt when touching it. He only hoped that it wasn't related to the ring she'd brought in the day before, because he really, really didn't want to have to spend the rest of the day in M/S confinement. And he would have to, if the damned hammer started talking to him.

He also hoped that he could figure out a way to move it, because the director wouldn't be very happy at finding out that a hammer with unknown tinkertech capabilities had decided to stay and live in one of the M/S screening rooms.

He didn't manage to move it, of course. And as he predicted, the director was not very happy about that fact.

Last edited: Jul 27, 2020

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Threadmarks Chapter Three

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htabdoolb

Jul 26, 2020

#12

-Chapter Three-

Armsmaster was out on patrol, cruising along on his heavily customized and upgraded motorcycle, when his visor alerted him to an incoming call from an unknown number.

"Armsmaster speaking. Who is this?" he asked, somewhat aggressively.

He didn't even try to moderate his tone. Honestly, the telemarketers and robocalls had been so bad lately. If he wasn't legally required to answer every call he received on this particular number, then he might have given up on using it entirely.

"Ah, it's Taylor. Taylor Hebert." a hesitant, young-ish, female, and familiar voice replied. "Um, sorry if this is a bad time, but you told me to call if I found anything else, so.."

There was the sound of a commotion on the other end of the line, with several loud voices talking over each other in the background.

"Are you in an emergency situation?" Armsmaster asked, beginning to grow a little concerned. "Did you find more tinkertech?"

"Ah, well, maybe and maybe.." Taylor's voice said, drowning out the background noise. "..could you come to the Medhall building, please? The security guys said that they were going to call nine-one-one, but I don't know if they had the chance.. and this is something you'll probably want to take a look at anyway, so I figured that it would be a good idea to call and tell you rather than wait for you to hear about it later."

The girl was starting to babble, and was obviously under stress and in some kind of potentially dangerous situation.

"Is there a parahuman involved?" he asked, turning his bike around and heading back in the direction that he had come from.

Trust that the emergency would be on the opposite side of town from his patrol route.

"Well, not a para-human.." the girl muttered, barely loud enough for him to hear over the roar of his bike. "..but definitely something weird. I.. I don't know how to explain it, exactly.. it's complicated."

"Start from the beginning." he ordered, flipping on his Protectorate issued lights and siren. "Tell me everything."

"Well.. Medhall is offering to take on several interns from local schools over the next summer break. I was the only one from Winslow who potentially qualified, even though I'm just a sophomore." Taylor said, sounding proud about that fact. "The pool of potential candidates was invited to take a tour of Medhall's facilities today. So a bunch of kids from the other, nicer schools, along with myself, arrived and began the tour about an hour ago.."

"Continue, please." Armsmaster prompted, when the girl paused in her explanation for a few moments.

"Oh, sorry. Hold on just a second." was the girl's distracted reply.

More worrying was the continued scuffling sounds in the background of the phone call, including several loud thumps and yells.

"Are you alright? Are you in a safe place?" he asked, beginning to weave around and through the slower traffic.

"I think so? They seem to have it under control.. sort of."

"Have what under control, exactly?" he asked, narrowing his eyes as he roared through an intersection.

"Give me a minute, please, I'm getting there.. Anyway, I guess that Medhall is expanding or something, because they led us through one section that they've got some guys cleaning out. Old offices and labs, I think, because they were hauling a bunch of boxed up paperwork and old chemistry stuff to the dumpsters out back. You know, old beakers and test tubes and bags of random, out-of-date chemicals, and other things like that." Taylor explained. "I think that they plan to start a new project soon and need the room, which is also why they're offering the internship positions."

"What does all of that have to do with why you called me, or what I can hear happening in the background?"

"Well, it turns out that not all of the old chemistry stuff they were moving was clean, or inert, or whatever. One worker tripped and dropped his load, and the box he'd been carrying split open.. which is where the maybe-tinkertech comes in.."

"What was it? And why do you suspect tinkertech?" Armsmaster prompted, goosing his bike to slide around a particularly slow truck.

"Well, what would you call a bunch of dusty old test tubes full of glowing green fluid?" Taylor asked, before going on. "Thankfully, no one got any of it on them when half of the tubes broke open and splashed all over the place, not even the guy who dropped the box. Unfortunately though, he was right next to the dumpster when it happened, and then.. well.."

"And then what? What happened?" Armsmaster asked, while using one hand to flip the safety cover off his bike's afterburner button.

"And then some bugs from the dumpster got into it.." the girl said, sounding resigned. "..and now we have giant cockroaches running around all over the place. Giant, green cockroaches.. that are very strong, and seem to be really, really angry for some reason."

"Giant.. green cockroaches." Armsmaster repeated, almost disbelievingly.

"Giant, green, angry cockroaches." Taylor agreed. "Like, wow.. those are some seriously pissed off bugs."

"Are they attacking anyone?"

"Well, they're trying.. but a few security guards blockaded the door between us and them, so I think that we're safe enough, for now."

There was a sudden, loud burst of cracking and crashing in the background, followed by yelling. The sounds of shots being fired, the rapid banging of uncontrolled panic fire, ended abruptly when someone started screaming.

"Or maybe not." Taylor said, remarkably calmly. "I think I'm going to have to hang up now. You should hurry, please."

The call ended, leaving Armsmaster with nothing to listen to but a dial tone and the angry horns of the vehicles he was blowing by. Grimly, he flipped the safety cover to his afterburner button back on, then flipped off the nearly identical cover to the button below it instead. The one that was marked "J.A.T.O. (EMERGENCIES ONLY, ARMSMASTER! -Dir. Kiljoy)".

He pressed the button, then concentrated on hanging on to his bike.

Thankfully, no one was dead when he arrived at the Medhall building. He did get to test out his nano-thorn project though, the giant cockroaches proving very susceptible to the device. It wouldn't be ready for deployment against its intended targets for some time, but was more than sufficient for his needs at that particular moment. So that was at least one bright spot in what was promising to be a very long and trying day.

Thankfully, while he had been envisioning three meter long monstrosities made of flesh, chitin, and fury when he'd heard Taylor describe them as 'giant', the largest of the cockroaches was actually no more than two-thirds of a meter long, at best. They were rather resilient though, which made him glad that he had his prototype nano-thorn along. They were also as angry as Taylor had described.

So very, very angry. He'd never been hissed at and charged by a bug before. Hopefully it wasn't something he'd have to experience ever again, although he wasn't as confident about that as he'd have liked to be. No one seemed to know just how many insects had been exposed to the substance Taylor had described to him, so he couldn't be sure that he'd gotten them all. Visions of giant rage bugs escaping into the sewers to breed were haunting him, and he was sure that the director would absolutely love the idea when she finally heard about it. Hopefully from someone other than him.

He found Taylor, along with all of the other students taking the tour of Medhall, locked away in a particularly spacious storage room. With her were several Medhall employees, and a few rather shell shocked security guards. Worryingly, there was a lopsided trail of bloody footprints leading up to the door.

The curly haired girl was sitting on the floor, holding a red-stained compress against a security guard's bare, bleeding foot. The man's boot was apparently long gone, and Armsmaster wondered if he was the one who had started screaming at the tail end of Taylor's phone call.

"How bad is it?" he asked, kneeling down beside the girl. "I have a small first aid kit here with me. Does he need a tourniquet?"

"No, no tourniquet." the girl replied, shooting a disgusted look at the blubbering, prone security guard. "It's not that bad, really. He's only lost his pinky toe. Honestly, from the way he's carrying on you'd have thought he'd lost his entire leg."

"Ah, I see." Armsmaster replied, relaxing slightly. "No other injuries, then? Paramedics are en route, by the way."

"No, I don't think anyone else is injured?" she asked, looking around the room curiously, receiving a bunch of head shakes to her question in return. "Nope, doesn't seem like anyone else is hurt."

"I don't even think it was the bugs that got his toe.." the girl leaned in and whispered to him, gesturing down to the nearly incoherent (and rather heavily tattooed, Armsmaster noted) man laying on the ground. "I think he did it to himself when he started shooting at them, the idiot."

"Mmm.." Armsmaster grunted, nodding. "Can you have someone else take over for you here? I'd like it if you could show me where everything started."

"Of course." the girl replied, handing off the 'wounded' man to one of his compatriots. "It's out back."

The scene by the dumpsters proved to be exactly as Taylor had described it to him. A burst box, some broken test tubes, and far more green, glowing goo than he ever wanted to see in one place. Or at all. Thankfully, it seemed that no other insects had gotten into the fluid.

"..Aaand that's radioactive." Armsmaster stated, when his pocket Geiger counter started ticking away much more quickly than he was comfortable with. "Let's not get any closer.. In fact, let's back up quite a bit."

Thankfully, the girl seemed no more eager than he was to be near the unknown green fluid, so they stepped back around the corner of the building.

"Well, this complicates matters." Armsmaster said, sighing. "Clean-up is going to be a pain. I'm going to have to backtrack where those tubes have been, and who has been in contact or close proximity with them, and then determine how much cancer they now have."

"Oh, and the bug corpses are all hazardous materials now, too.. well, more hazardous." he stated, shaking his head. "And you, Taylor, are going to need to come back with me to Headquarters, so I can take your statement as the prime witness."

"Please." he added, when he saw her grimace.

"Of course." the girl said, sounding tired. "It seems like I can't just have a normal day anymore. I only hope it all doesn't take too long."

Seven and a half hours later, Armsmaster watched the tired, drooping girl finally walk out of the P.R.T. lobby. Her actual debriefing and statement had only taken an hour or so, but he'd had to put her off for quite some time to supervise the initial stages of the emergency response and cleanup at Medhall. Thankfully, she'd been a good sport about it. The free pass to the P.R.T. cafeteria while she'd waited had helped, no doubt.

His own day was nowhere near it's end, though. He'd have to report to the director soon, and he was not looking forward to her response to the knowledge that some incredibly foolish person at Medhall had left radioactive, blood-based, transformative bio-agents laying carelessly around. That no humans had wound up touching the stuff when it spilled was a near miracle, but he doubted that she'd be much comforted by the fact. She would probably insist on digging into the company pretty hard over the next few weeks, not that he thought that such a thing was a bad idea.

Because if Medhall had, at some point in the past, employed what was probably a rogue bio-tinker to create that transformative bio-agent.. then what the hell else had they been up to? Armsmaster was very interested in finding out, and he was sure the director would be as well.

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htabdoolb

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#61

-Chapter 4-

Armsmaster was in the middle of his daily exercise regimen when his communicator beeped at him. It wasn't the tone used for emergencies, so he slowed his motions down on the rowing machine gradually, coming to a gentle stop before standing up. He took an extra moment to wipe the sweat from his face and hands, then picked up his phone and glanced at the incoming call's identifier.

It was Taylor Hebert's home phone number, naturally. Because it seemed that he couldn't go for an entire day without hearing from the girl now. At least his foresight in adding her number to his contacts list a few days previously was paying off.

"Armsmaster here. Are you in an emergency, miss Hebert?" he asked, dreading the answer.

He'd had very strange dreams the night before. The previous day's adventure with the giant cockroaches had certainly left an impression on his subconscious, that was for sure. He sincerely hoped that whatever it was that the girl had come across today, it didn't have anything to do with insects.

"I found a spider." Taylor said.

"You've.. found a spider.." he repeated back at her.

Well, spiders were arachnids, not insects.. so he supposed that his sincere hope had been technically fulfilled, at least. He'd have to make a note later to be a bit more specific in his future mental pleas to the cold, uncaring, ironic universe that he was apparently living in.

"..it isn't a giant spider, is it?" he asked.

He managed to suppress his shudder at the idea of facing such a creature. As if the cockroaches hadn't been bad enough.

"No, no.. I mean, it is big, but it's just a normal spider." the girl replied. "Well, not normal normal, since I couldn't.. I mean, since it was chasing.. Look, I'll just tell you all about it when I get to the P.R.T. building, okay?"

"Are you bringing this 'not normal normal' spider with you, miss Hebert?"

"Yes, that's why I'm calling ahead.." Taylor said. "..so that you can have something secure to put it in ready and waiting."

"I see. Do you have a safe way to transport it here, then?"

"I'll figure something out. See you in a bit." the girl replied, hanging up.

Taylor sat across from him, the spider between them on the table. The girl's method of 'safe transport' proved to be a clear drinking glass taped to a fairly hefty hardback book. Taped rather thoroughly actually, with very little of the glass visible beneath the many strips of semi-transparent packing tape layered over it.

The spider in question was an indistinct but brightly colored blur within its glass and paper prison.

"I tried to use a slip of notepaper first." the girl said, as they both lay nearly flat on the table, looking into the glass. "But it almost immediately chewed its way out and nearly escaped. The book is working better, but it probably won't hold it forever. It is a very persistent spider."

"So I see." Armsmaster replied.

And he did. Even though the details were lost beneath the tape, it was clear that the spider was gnawing insistently at the bottom of its cage. There was even a little pile of shredded book cover heaped up around it from its efforts.

"So, slightly odd behavior aside, is there any other reason you decided to trap this particular spider and bring it to me?" he asked, leaning up and back into his seat so he that could look at the girl properly.

"Yes. It was chasing me."

"Chasing you." he stated, his tone flat. "Are you sure about that? It wasn't just running toward the nearest patch of shadow it could find? The one that you were maybe casting onto the ground next to it, perhaps?"

He might not be the only one having issues because of the events from the day before. Maybe the poor girl had been more traumatized by the giant roaches than he'd realized.

"It chased me across my entire bedroom.." the girl replied, glaring at the spider.

"That still doesn't seem like.."

"..and then through the rest of the house." Taylor continued, interrupting him. "And then out the front door and across our lawn, and then down the sidewalk. And it kept chasing me down the sidewalk until I'd gone around the entire block. Then it chased me back across the lawn and around our house several times, and then up the steps and back through the front door, and finally into the kitchen where I managed to trap it beneath a glass."

"I see. That is suspicious." Armsmaster said, drumming his fingers on the table a few times as he regarded the still persistently gnawing spider. "Anything else?"

"Yes, it was fast." the girl replied, nodding. "Much faster than I'm comfortable with a spider being, really. And it was very hard to catch, too. It dodged almost everything I tried to do to it or throw at it.. almost like it knew what I was going to do before I did it. I only got it with the glass because I heaved several books at it at the same time."

"That sounds.. worrying." he stated.

It also sounded like something he definitely didn't want escaping from confinement. Especially in the P.R.T. headquarters. The building was fairly secure, but something as small as a spider could get (or hide) nearly anywhere.

"Did you happen to recognize what kind of spider it was?" he asked, leaning back down to try to peer into the glass through the small gaps between the packing tape.

"No." Taylor stated. "But I don't know very much about spiders, though. I'm not an arachn-ologist, or whatever it is that people who study spiders are called."

The first part of the girl's statement read as clear to his stress-sensor, but the second half did not. It seemed like she might be concealing something from him. Interesting.

"Really.. you don't know anything about spiders?" he pressed.

"Ah, well.." the girl replied, fidgeting slightly. "..I didn't want to bring it up, because it seemed like such a ridiculous coincidence, but I was actually researching what kinds of spiders we have here in Brockton Bay earlier."

"You were, were you?" Armsmaster asked, tilting his head curiously. "Why?"

"I guess that I just find them kind of interesting?" Taylor replied, shrugging. "I was looking up cockroaches because of yesterday, and my search just kind of drifted. You know how Wikipedia can be.. the open tabs just pile up everywhere."

Her words read as clear to his sensor, which reassured him that she wasn't trying to hide anything important. The girl had been trustworthy so far, but sometimes it seemed like you never really could tell in this business.

"So anyways, there I was.. reading about the tensile strength of black widow silk.. when this big spider drops out of nowhere onto my keyboard." the girl continued, shuddering a little. "Honestly, I think it was nearly as surprised as I was at first, because we just sort of stared at each other for a few seconds.. and then it leapt at my face."

"..leapt at your face?"

"Oh yeah." Taylor stated, nodding seriously. "It's a jumper, alright. You'll want to keep that in mind when you transfer it to another container."

"Wonderful." Armsmaster muttered, shaking his head. "Does it have any other little surprises I should know about?"

"No, I think that's pretty much it." the girl replied, standing up. "Thanks for taking it off my hands. I know the way pretty well by now, so I'll just show myself out."

"You're welcome." he said, his tone dry. "See you tomorrow, Taylor."

"Hah, I hope not. Bye, Armsmaster."

He watched as she exited the room, quietly closing the door after herself and leaving him alone with his newest problem.

He sighed, and then returned his attention to the odd spider.. which was now no longer trying to chew its way through the book that made up the bottom half of its prison. Instead, it was scrabbling futilely against the side of the drinking glass. The same side of the glass as the direction in which Taylor had just left.

He peered down curiously at the frantic arachnid, and saw it apparently give up in its efforts only a few moments later. The strange thing seemed to droop in place, almost as if disappointed. Bizarre, and a little worrying about how obviously fixated it was on the girl.

He was able to examine it a little better, now that it had finally stopped moving. It was no wonder that Taylor hadn't known its species. It had such unusual coloring for a spider.. even he'd never heard of one that had such a distinct red and blue pattern before. A bit of research about the multitude of spider species out there in the world was definitely in his near future. Or rather, in the near future of the next P.R.T. agent he came across and pushed the drudge work onto.

It was when he leaned in even closer, in an attempt to note down any further identifying characteristics, that his Geiger counter started ticking again. For the second time in two days.. because of course (on top of everything else) the damned spider would be radioactive, too.

The director was going to be just thrilled.

Last edited: Jul 27, 2020

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Threadmarks Chapter Five

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htabdoolb

Jul 28, 2020

#149

-Chapter Five-

Once again, Armsmaster's morning nap was interrupted. His phone trilled with the distinctive tone that he'd assigned to Taylor's home phone number, right after her visit the day before. He grunted as he woke, yawned hugely and scratched at his chin stubble wearily, then gave his phone a rather flat look. Trust that the girl wouldn't even let him get his full nap in before bringing whatever her latest find was to his attention.

"Armsmaster here. Hello Taylor, what is it today?" he asked, after finally answering the call.

"So, there's this old church about a block and half from my house." the girl began, skipping the customary greeting phase of the conversation entirely.

Honestly, they'd seen so much of each other over the past few days that he didn't begrudge it to her. Much.

"Okay."

"I usually run past it on my morning jogs."

"Alright."

"Today, there was a big rock sitting right in the middle of the church's lawn."

"..And?" he asked, rubbing at his temples briefly, wondering where the girl was going with this.

"And it wasn't there yesterday. There's a little bit of a crater around it, like it fell a few feet down right out of the air or something." Taylor explained.

"Okay, that's a bit strange, I'll admit.. but what makes you think that this is something the P.R.T. should become involved in?"

"Because there's a big sword sticking up right out of the center of it."

"Of course there is." he sighed. "And I suppose that you have reason to believe that this sword is tinkertech, or something like that?"

"Or something like that." the girl agreed. "It's definitely odd, whatever it is. I think that you'll want to take a look at it."

"Okay, Taylor. Give me the address, please." Armsmaster said, coming to his feet.

She did. They agreed to meet there in half an hour, and then she ended the call.

Armsmaster looked back wistfully at his nap chair, then pushed the button that made it fold away. Perhaps he should have told the girl to meet him in an hour, instead.. ah, well.

"A big rock" didn't quite convey the scale of the stone sitting smack dab in the middle of the little rundown church's front lawn. It was a squarish hunk that was over a meter long on each side, and was probably made of some kind of limestone. It had obviously been quarried, but it was equally obvious that it hadn't been done recently. The roughly cube shaped rock (really a small boulder) was worn and even a little mossy with age, as if it had been cut at least a few centuries before and then left outside to weather naturally.

And sticking straight up (perfectly straight, he'd checked) out of the very center of the old stone block was an equally old looking sword. Armsmaster couldn't say why exactly he thought it to be ancient, for it didn't have a speck of rust or corrosion anywhere upon it. It simply seemed to have an unmistakable feel of great age hanging about it.

It was also fairly sizable. For a large man like himself, it would probably serve as a hefty hand and half sword. For someone of smaller stature and size, like girl standing next to him, it would require two hands to wield properly.

"So, while I'll admit that this is odd.." Armsmaster said, as they both looked at the old sword stuck in the stone. "..what exactly made you think that this might be parahuman related?"

"Two things, really." Taylor replied, glancing back at him and giving him a level look. "And it'll be easier to just show you."

With that, she started walking toward the stone. It was when she got within a few feet that the strangeness began.

It was a typical early spring morning for Brockton Bay that day, which meant that it was chilly, overcast, and a little damp. When Taylor neared the stone however, the clouds parted. A lance of pure sunlight splashed down around both it and the girl, in a near perfect circle, illuminating the scene brightly. And the closer the girl got, the stronger and brighter the light became.

"Alright, that's a bit unusual." Armsmaster stated, after rotating in place to look around himself fully.

There were no other beams of light piercing through the clouds anywhere within his sight. The rest of the city remained dreary, overcast, and grey. It was only around Taylor that the sun shone, and the contrast between her and everything else was all the more clear because of it.

The colors of the little patch of grass she was standing on somehow seemed more bright than elsewhere, too.. the green of each grass blade more intense in the glowing shaft of natural sunlight. The sunlit area also looked cleaner and more well kept than the rest of the church's ragged, patchwork lawn. There were cigarette butts and scraps of litter scattered everywhere else, but not around the girl. The air even felt warmer and smelled sweeter, as if he were suddenly standing in a flower garden next to a stone wall that had been sun-warmed for hours.

"And there's this, too." Taylor said, before reaching out a hand and laying a single finger upon the rounded pommel of the sword.

As soon as her skin made contact with the weapon, a quiet chorus of hymnal singing swelled into being. The individual voices were clear and perfectly pitched, and combined together they sounded absolutely beautiful.. almost angelic and holy, in fact. As he watched, little golden motes of light began to slowly fall down around the girl, seemingly appearing from nowhere a few meters above her head and then vanishing when they touched the ground at her feet. The metal of the sword, which before had looked dull with age, began gleaming in the sunlight as if newly forged and freshly polished.

"Was there anything else?" Armsmaster asked after taking in the scene before him, which looked more than a little like something one might find in the central stained glass window of a large cathedral.

"I dunno." the girl replied, taking her hand off the sword and stepping back. "This was as far as I got before I decided to go home and call you."

The sourceless singing died off at once when Taylor stopped touching the sword, and the sunlight faded as she moved away from the stone it was embedded within. A small part of him cried out in protest at that, but the larger, more cynical portion of him (the part deeply steeped in M/S protocols) stamped that feeling out and buried it.

"I see. Probably wise."

"So, you going to haul it back to the P.R.T.?" the girl asked, kicking absently at a tuft of grass as she spoke, as if she were a little bored by the whole thing.

"Yes, although not right away. It's not exactly something I can lug around on the back of my motorcycle, after all." he replied, shaking his head. "I'll have to put in a work order. We'll probably have a moving van and forklift around by noon or so."

"That's good. Well, since you've got it under control, I guess I'll go home now."

"Wait.." Armsmaster called after her, before she could get too far away. "Did you try to pull the sword from the stone?"

"No.." Taylor replied, blinking slightly at the question. "..why would I?"

"I don't know.." Armsmaster said, rubbing at his chin thoughtfully. "I guess it just seems like the thing to do?"

"Well, supposing that it did come out.. what would I even do with a big, pointy hunk of metal like that anyway?" the girl replied, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, it wouldn't even be of as much use as that clunky old hammer I found.. at least with that thing I could have pounded in nails."

"..I suppose that I can't fault your logic there." he finally replied, shrugging. "Goodbye, Taylor."

"See you, Armsmaster.." the girl replied, waving. "..but hopefully not too soon. No offense."

"Non taken." he said dryly, at her retreating back. "Now, then.."

"..where the heck are we going to put this thing?" he asked himself, turning back to look at the bulky, and no doubt very heavy, stone with the sword embedded into it. "Maybe in the director's office? I'm sure she'd love that. It'd be a nice conversation piece, if nothing else."

He walked over to stand next to the stone, inspecting it from up close. Unlike with Taylor, there was no accompanying circle of sunlight for him. Nor was there any singing, or little falling motes of golden light, when he reached out an armored hand to grasp the sword by the handle.

He tugged on it, curious to see if he could pull it out of the stone. Naturally, it remained stuck completely fast. Which was most unfortunate..

..because it sure would have made moving the darn thing far, far easier.

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Threadmarks Chapter Six

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htabdoolb

Jul 29, 2020

#290

-Chapter Six-

"So, I understand that you've made a friend, Colin.." the director stated. "..why don't you tell me about her?"

"Yes. Taylor Hebert, age fifteen, attends Winslow high school." Armsmaster answered. "She came to my attention at the beginning of the week, when she brought in what appeared to be a tinkertech ring of some kind. A fairly routine find, or it would have been.. if not for the fact that she reported the ring talking to her when she picked it up. Apparently, it was trying to persuade her to put it on and wield it. Thankfully, she disregarded its words and came to us with it instead."

The director made a face at that. Understandable, really. No one liked anything that had even the faintest whiff of Master or Stranger influences about it.

"Had that just been the extent of my interactions with the girl, then we wouldn't be having this conversation. However, she proceeded to find and turn in tinkertech or other obviously parahuman related items on each successive day this week, including just this morning."

"Ah, yes.. that sword in a block of granite you had brought in." the director said.

"Limestone, actually.. but yes." Armsmaster replied. "She was even the first one to report the incident that occurred at Medhall on Wednesday.. directly to me, in fact."

"You gave her your Protectorate number?"

"The day beforehand, yes. It seemed prudent, as two tinkertech finds in two days was a potential pattern in the making." he explained. "One that subsequent events has borne out."

"Indeed. Good call." the director agreed, nodding her head. "So, five items in five days.. is she a parahuman?"

"She insists that she is not."

"Hmm.. what do you think, then?"

"I think that it doesn't matter, one way or the other." Armsmaster stated.

"Oh? Why?"

"Because she has been bringing everything she finds directly to us." he said. "And she seems to show absolutely no inclination toward becoming involved with any of the gangs, nor any interest in criminal activities in general, nor a tendency to be drawn toward the city's existing conflicts. As far as fresh triggers go, that is about the best possible outcome.. especially here, in Brockton Bay."

"I'm pretty sure that newly minted parahumans aligning with us is the best possible outcome, actually." the director replied, her tone a bit wry.

"Taking into consideration the apparent distaste she has for that particular option, I think that peaceful neutrality is an acceptable consolation prize." Armsmaster countered. "Especially when she already seems inclined toward cooperation with the lawful authorities."

He played the audio clip of his first interview with the girl for the director, who listened in closely. When it got to the point where Taylor said "I'd rather do something productive with my life, thanks." the woman grunted out a surprised chuckle, which became full fledged laughter a moment later.

"Ha, I like this girl!" the director stated, slapping her desk. "She's got a good head on her shoulders.. we could use more people like that in our ranks, parahuman or not. Too bad anyone with that much sense will know to stay as far away from this madhouse as possible."

"Hmm.." Armsmaster grunted, deciding to keep his opinions on the matter to himself.

"Tell me about the items she's brought to us." the director ordered, shifting the topic slightly. "Anything particularly useful or dangerous?"

"As I said, the ring was the first item she brought to us. Given what she reported about its behavior, I was a little wary of conducting any experiments with it. However, with Dragon and I both observing from a remote location, we finally had a small group of volunteers interact with it on an individual basis."

"Did anything happen?"

"None of the volunteers exhibited any abilities outside the scope of their normal ones. For all intents and purposes, the ring appears completely inert.." Armsmaster said. "..with one exception. The first time a volunteer touched or donned the ring, they would hear a single word or short phrase, although nothing was picked up by any of the audio sensors recording the tests."

"I see.. and just what were these words and phrases that they heard?"

"Both troopers Ramirez and Kowalski heard the word "No.", trooper Calhoun heard "Nah.", agent Stihlman heard "I don't think so.", and agent Calvert apparently heard "Ha ha, nope." he reported. "Then, after it was demonstrated to be relatively safe by the P.R.T. volunteers, and with Dragon still observing remotely, I took a turn with it."

"And what did you hear?"

"Mmm.. nope, sorry. Better luck next time." Armsmaster quoted, sighing.

"So it's a ring that insults people."

"That was the conclusion that Dragon and I came to, yes. It may have other abilities, but whatever they might be, they're locked away for now."

"Hmph.." the director grunted neutrally. "Well, what else did she bring in?"

"A shield and war-hammer were the next set of items she turned in." Armsmaster said, growing a bit more animated. "The shield in particular is fairly remarkable."

"Is that the 'silent shield' I've been hearing about?"

"Yes, although the 'silent' part is apparently just a side effect of its true properties."

"Which are..?"

"It absorbs kinetic energy. All kinetic energy.. over a certain threshold, at least." Armsmaster stated, starting to sound excited. "The potential applications, if Dragon and I are able to reverse engineer it, are almost limitless. I would love to meet the tinker that created it."

"I know this is said a lot about powers, and about tinkertech in particular, but that sounds like it breaks at least a few of the laws of thermodynamics."

"Not as much as you might think. The absorbed energy isn't destroyed, merely stored and then gradually released in small, safe, and nearly unnoticeable amounts." he replied, then looked thoughtful. "Although, if you hit it with a large enough burst energy in a short enough span of time, that might cause it to dump everything it had stored up all at once, in an attempt to maintain its structural integrity.."

"That sounds like it could be dangerous."

"Probably explosively so." Armsmaster agreed. "But that would be an extreme case scenario."

"So the shield is a sort of shock absorber, then?"

"That's a vast over-simplification, but essentially yes."

"If it absorbs kinetic energy.. then how have you been moving it around?" the director mused curiously.

"That, Dragon and I are less clear on." Armsmaster replied, with a small grimace. "There may be some sort of friend or foe identification going on in the background that we're not seeing, letting certain things affect it in a more normal manner.. which brings me to the hammer."

"The one that apparently no-one can move.." the director stated, sounding a bit amused.

"..yes, that one. Dragon and I speculate that it may be made out of the same material as the shield, only with much more stringent friend or foe recognition restrictions in place. Which may be why no-one can move it, as it just absorbs the energy of any attempts to shift it from its position."

"But the Hebert girl was able to carry it around?"

"Yes." Armsmaster replied, and played a short video clip of Taylor balancing the massive hammer on one fingertip.

"Hmph." the director grunted again, while watching the clip. "Why haven't you had the girl move it somewhere more convenient?"

"It keeps slipping my mind." Armsmaster sighed. "Usually because every time I see her, she has something new to distract my attention with."

"Speaking of which, tell me about the Medhall incident."

Her voice had grown noticeably cooler, not that Armsmaster blamed her.

"Ugh.." he replied. "Yes, that. The culprit turned out to be some sort of unknown agent which was dropped and spilled. The effects on the insects that got into it was.. extreme."

He played back a portion of his helmet's video recording from his brief but intense battle with the giant insects at Medhall. The director's eyes got more and more narrow as the video went on.

"I don't like this, Colin. I don't like this at all." she stated, her tone absolutely glacial. "Why the hell did Medhall have something that could do this?"

"That is the question." Armsmaster agreed, nodding. "One that Medhall has been very persistent in dodging, so far. Most of the witnesses I interviewed on Wednesday seemed genuinely surprised and shocked by the day's events. A few others clammed up as soon as I approached them. Every inquiry I've sent since has been slowed or blocked entirely by the lawyers they're throwing at the situation. We're going to need warrants, a lot of them, if we want to dig any deeper into what caused this mess."

"You'll get them." the director growled. "This is not the kind of thing that I'm going to allow to happen in the town I'm responsible for. I want that company ripped open, right down to the marrow if that's what it takes, to find out who and what was responsible."

"Understood."

"Now, you recovered some of the agent, yes? What can you tell me about it?"

"It has several properties, the first of which is its extreme radioactivity." Armsmaster stated, bringing up a series of photos on the projector. The first was of the burst box, spilling its liquid green contents across the pavement of Medhall's parking garage.

"Just how extreme is extreme?"

"Extreme enough that exposure that lasts for longer than a few minutes is almost invariably fatal." he replied.

To demonstrate, he flipped to the next photo. In it, several white lab mice were nosing around in a small enclosure, next to a sealed vial of the unknown green liquid. In the photo after that, the previously alive mice were very much dead, laying still in the sawdust at the bottom of their cage.

"Hmm.." the director grunted. "..what else?"

"The changes, for lack of a better word, don't occur unless the substance is ingested. Brief external contact merely induces rather large amounts of tissue necrosis, many benign and some not so benign tumors, and often death, depending largely on the amount of the substance in question and the duration of the contact.

"..and the changes?"

"Are almost immediate upon ingestion." Armsmaster explained. "The body of the subject swells and changes color. The more of the substance that is ingested, the more extreme the effects are. The subject then becomes uncontrollable, lashing out angrily at the nearest target until it is destroyed, before then moving on to the next. Which is a problem, because the subject also becomes far more strong and durable than something its size should be.. by several orders of magnitude."

"Wonderful.." the director muttered, under her breath.

"There were reports of small arms fire literally bouncing off of the affected insects during the Medhall incident. It was very fortunate that I had my prototype nano-thorn project along actually, because I'm not sure that much else I have in my standard load-out would have deterred them, let alone dealt with the enlarged insects permanently. The fact that no-one was seriously harmed on Wednesday is a near miracle."

"The Hebert girl brought in a spider the next day, didn't she?" the director asked, tapping her fingers angrily on her desk, almost seething in place at the topic being discussed. "Is that related? Did she get a little splash of the substance on her clothes perhaps, then take it home with her for the spider to eventually come into contact with?"

"No, as far as Dragon and I can tell. The two incidents, although bearing some superficial similarities, actually seem to be entirely unrelated."

"Really." the director replied, not bothering to hide her skepticism. "Two incidents involving radioactive bugs in two days, and they're somehow not related?"

"For one, I took pains to scan each and every person at Medhall who had any sort of potential exposure to the substance or the giant insects, very thoroughly, in order to prevent just such a scenario from occurring. Second, while the spider exhibited some very unusual traits and abilities, they were all somewhat different from those of the Medhall insects." Armsmaster explained, ticking off his points. "And finally, the types of radiation involved with each incident are radically different. Different enough that it is very unlikely that they have a common origin."

"Hmm.. what abilities did this spider have?"

"It is stronger and tougher than an average spider, though not nearly to the same extent as the Medhall insects were. Its webs are very durable, as well.. but perhaps the most interesting thing about is its apparent precognition."

"A precognitive spider." the director repeated. "Really?"

"Yes. Repeated tests showed that it has a very high chance of reacting to dangers well before it could possibly perceive them occurring with its natural senses." he said.

"So, if this thing isn't related to the Medhall insects, then where did it come from?"

"Dragon has a theory about that, actually." Armsmaster stated. "Neither of us could determine exactly which species it belonged to, so we sequenced its genome.. which turned out to be a patchwork mishmash of nearly a dozen different existing spider species. It was manufactured by someone.. although for what purpose, we don't know."

The fact that the thing was alive at all was something of a miracle, given the crudity of the engineering that had apparently gone into creating it. It wasn't even Armsmaster's specialty, and yet he felt like he could probably have done better, had he chosen to make a similar attempt.

"What about its radioactivity? What's the story with that?"

"That actually seems to be unintended.. almost as if the spider escaped from whomever created it, then took up residence in a radiologically contaminated location."

"Then why isn't it dead?"

"It probably would be, if it were a regular spider. The engineering process that created it, however it was done, seems to have granted it a measure of resiliency against most types of damage, including radiation." Armsmaster answered.

"Alright.. going back to the Medhall incident. Were you able to secure all of the substance on site?" the director asked, changing topics once again. "And was there anything else suspiciously radioactive or glowing in storage there?"

"Possibly, and I don't know."

"..I don't like those answers, Colin."

"Neither do I, director." Armsmaster replied seriously. "I was able to ensure that the spill by the dumpster and all of the giant insect remains were properly contained and policed up, but when I went to search for the origins of the box containing the vials, I was blocked by building security. The company's chief executive officer came down in person to let me know in no uncertain terms that my further presence was unwelcome."

"There's something rotten going on at Medhall.." the director growled out, grinding her teeth.

"I agree. Hopefully with those warrants I'm going to be asking for, we'll be able to bring that rot out into the light." he stated, and then went on. "One further thing: the dropped box with the vials inside of it. Many were broken, a few were left intact, and worryingly, a few more may be missing."

The director angled her head sharply at that.

"With Dragon's help, I was able to reconstruct the pieces of the broken vials. Added up together along with the intact ones, they would have only filled up about four-fifths of the box. Wherever the rest are is completely unknown.. that is, if they even existed in the first place."

"Wonderful." she spat. "Do whatever you have to do to get inside that building and get an accurate inventory, Colin. I want to know exactly how many pencils, pens, paperclips, and little vials full of radioactive green goo they have on site. The sooner, the better.. before they can sweep the mess out of their building and under the city's rug."

"With pleasure." Armsmaster stated, grinning.

He was going to get so many warrants.. so many warrants.

"Alright, I'd like to wrap this meeting up.. what's left, the sword from this morning? Anything unusual about it?"

"Actually, no." he replied, shaking his head. "I haven't had a chance to do a thorough battery of tests on it yet, considering how difficult it is to move around, but my preliminary examinations seem to point toward it being a completely ordinary sword.. if a rather old one."

"Really.. there's nothing strange about it at all?"

"Well.. my onsite scans revealed that it has a slightly higher than usual amount of trace metals." Armsmaster said, shrugging inside of his armor. "Dragon theorizes that a small meteorite or two may have been alloyed into the steel it was forged from. An interesting tidbit, but not particularly significant."

"Why did you have it brought in, then?" the director asked, arching her eyebrows up curiously.

"This is why." he replied, and played the recording from his helmet's primary camera of Taylor's interaction with the sword in the stone.

"Well, that was dramatic." the director sighed, after the last chorus of singing and shaft of sunlight had faded in the video. "Why can't anything ever be simple?"

"Because then we'd be out of a job?" Armsmaster supplied, getting a small chuckle in return.

"Isn't that the tru.." she began to reply, when Armsmaster's helmet beeped at him with an incoming call.

"Speak of the devil.." he sighed. "..it hasn't even been eight hours. This is getting ridiculous."

"Is that her?" the director asked, noting his reaction. "I want to hear her. Put it on speaker phone."

"Yes, director." he replied, then answered the call. "Hello Taylor. Please tell me that you haven't found anything new, and that this is just a friendly call to chat."

"Hi, Armsmaster. I haven't found anything new, and this is just a friendly call to chat." Taylor replied, sounding a little amused.

"Really?" Armsmaster asked hopefully.

"Really." the girl assured him.

"Oh, thank goodness." he said, only to see his boss waving at him. "Ah, I have you on speaker phone. The P.R.T. director, Emily Piggot, is with me listening in."

"Oh, okay. Hi, director Piggot."

"Hello, Taylor." the director said. "I want to thank you for taking the responsible course of action and bringing all these things that you've been coming across to our attention. Especially with what happened at Medhall earlier this week. Calling Armsmaster straight away and letting him know what was going on may have literally saved lives."

"Oh, well.. you're welcome." the girl replied, sounding a little flustered.

"So, not to sound rude, Taylor, but the director and I were in a meeting. Was there something in particular that you wanted to talk to me about?" Armsmaster asked after a brief lull, in an attempt to move the conversation along.

"Yes, sorry. I just wanted to thank you for the phone you sent me. It's really neat!"

"You're welcome. After all that has happened this past week, I wanted you to have a way to contact me at any time and place. Especially if something like what took place at Medhall happens again." he said. "Also, did you see the note about the tracker?"

"Yes. It seems like a good idea, to be honest.." the girl replied seriously. "You know, one of those things you hope to never need, but would rather have.. just in case?"

"Exactly my thoughts." Armsmaster agreed. "Was there anything else?"

"Yeah!" Taylor replied, sounding excited. "I wanted to let you know that since next week is spring break, I'll be going away to camp."

"A camping trip, or like a summer camp?"

"The second one, only just over spring break." the girl replied, still excited. "So, hopefully that means I won't find anything weird while I'm gone, since I won't be in Brockton Bay anymore.. and we won't have to see each other for at least a week. Maybe more!"

"That sounds nice, Taylor." he agreed.

It was strange for two people to look forward to not seeing each other, especially when the girl had such an easy-going and otherwise agreeable personality. He'd have been happy to have her as a casual acquaintance.. if it wasn't for the fact that every time he saw her, she ended up bringing a new complication into his life.

"Did Medhall ever get back to you about that internship?" he asked, the girl's motivation for being there on Wednesday suddenly popping back into his mind.

"Oh, no. I think that they picked someone else, from one of the better schools."

"You don't sound very unhappy about that." the director observed.

"Well, even if they had picked me, I wouldn't have gone." the girl said. "I mean, why would I want to work at a place where they make things that can do that to a bug? Eugh."

"Very true."

"Plus, I just got a really creepy vibe from the whole place, you know?"

"What do you mean by that?" the director asked, glancing over at him and looking perplexed.

"Well.. I mean, it just seemed like everyone there was.. white. Like, really white." the girl explained, sounding a little embarrassed. "Maybe that doesn't sound like that big of a deal, or maybe like just a coincidence, but it seemed kinda creepy at the time. The only people I saw with brown skin or non-round eyes were working as janitors.. and they didn't seem very happy to be there, you know?"

"I see.." Armsmaster mused, giving the director a significant look, which she returned. "Thank you for sharing this with us, Taylor."

"No problem. Was there anything else you wanted to know?"

"Yes." the director stated suddenly. "If you don't want to work at Medhall, then what do you want to do, Taylor?"

"Oh.." the girl replied, before going silent for a moment. "Well, I guess that I'm hoping to open up a fish farm!"

"A.. fish farm?" the director repeated, blinking.

"Yeah! I mean, what's the one natural resource that we have here in Brockton Bay?"

"Villains?" Armsmaster answered.

"Gang members?" Piggot replied.

"Drugs?" Armsmaster added.

"Corruption?" Piggot supplied.

"No, no.. it's the bay itself. Water!" the girl explained, her tone eager. "I thought it might be too polluted, you know, what with the boat graveyard and everything. But then I researched it a little, and realized that since shipping pretty much died out about a decade ago, the bay is actually probably the cleanest it's been in nearly a century. Maybe longer!"

"And so you want to start farming fish in the bay.." Armsmaster finished for her.

"Yeah!"

"..Well, that sounds like a very achievable goal." the director said, looking a little amused. "I wish you luck."

"Thank you!"

"I suppose I'll let you go now, Taylor. Thanks for the call, and I hope you have fun at camp." Armsmaster said. "Also, I hope that you don't find anything while you're gone."

"Hah, me too. No stupid rings, or clunky hammers and shields, or strange bugs, or weird swords either.. nothing! Bye!" the girl replied with a laugh, and then hung up.

"Colin, I want you to play that video of your fight at Medhall again.. specifically, the bit near the end, when you track down where Taylor and the other kids were hiding." the director ordered, suddenly all business after the end of the call.

"I had exactly the same idea." he replied as he obeyed.

Together they watched the footage, as Armsmaster's past self followed the bloody footprints leading up to the storage room and then burst through the door.

"Pause it."

Armsmaster did, then they both spent a few moments picking through all the people present.

"Not a single non-white." the director commented. "Even all the kids are caucasian.. that can't be a coincidence, not in a town like Brockton Bay."

"I agree. Look at the man on the floor." Armsmaster replied. "His shirt is torn, from where Taylor made the compress she has against his foot. Do those look like they might be Empire tattoos to you?"

"Goddamn, you're right." the director said, suddenly grinning savagely. "Something is definitely rotten at Medhall, and I think we might have just discovered exactly what it is."

"Yes. Now I'll know what to keep an eye out for when I, and all the troopers and agents that I just happen to take along with me, execute those warrants."

"This could be the chink in the Empire's armor that we've been looking for, Colin. Do not screw this up." the director warned.

"Not on your life, director."

"Good. Was there anything else that we needed to talk about?"

Armsmaster frowned in thought for a moment.

"I understand that B.B.P.D. has been a bit more active that usual. Anything I or the team need to know about?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Mmm, I don't actually know all that much about it myself. I just heard that they've been receiving a few anonymous tips recently, which let them bust a few places. Nothing major, just low level stuff. They must have a mole or something in one of the gangs."

"Ahh.. well, good for them. Every little bit helps." Armsmaster said, standing up. "I'll get back to my workshop now, director. Taking care of all the extra things Taylor has been finding has really cut into my tinkering time."

"You know that she's going to find something at that camp of hers." the director said, before he could make it to the door.

"Please don't say that."

"Let's see.. what will it be, do you think? Maybe there's a pattern? Ring, hammer and shield, rage bugs, super spider, sword.." she said, listing off every find. "No, wait.. tinkertech, tinkertech, bug, bug, weapon.. so maybe she'll find another weapon, next?"

"Please stop. I don't believe in jinxes, but you're going to jinx it."

"Yep, it's gonna be a weapon, I'm sure of it.." the director replied, spinning around in her chair cheerfully. "What do you think? Another hammer, or maybe a spear? Ooh, a trident! That would be fun."

"You're enjoying this."

"I do enjoy seeing my underlings having to work for their pay." the director agreed. "No time to lounge around napping when there's work to be done, is there?"

"Nap time.." Armsmaster began, his tone utterly serious. "..should be sacred time. Good evening, director."

"Betcha it'll be another sword." she called after him, as he was closing the door to her office.

Really, the woman took far to much delight in the misery of her coworkers and subordinates. She didn't even deny the unofficial name that practically everyone else in the local P.R.T. and Protectorate used for her.. director Kiljoy indeed.

Spoiler: Author's Note

Last edited: Jul 29, 2020

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Threadmarks Chapter Seven

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htabdoolb

Jul 31, 2020

#476

-Chapter Seven-

Armsmaster went the entire weekend without hearing from Taylor, and it was wonderful. He spent the time stripping down, cleaning, and then rebuilding his motorcycle, adding quite a few little upgrades to it along the way. After all, why settle for just one rocket booster when (with a little fiddling and reshuffling of various bits) there was enough room for two?

He even logged some more time in with Dragon on their nano-thorn collaboration, which was coming along very well indeed. Hopefully, it would be ready to deploy for the next Endbringer attack.. assuming that said attack happened more-or-less on schedule.

Of course, such peace and quiet (which had been miraculously free from even the constant, low-intensity gang warfare that usually plagued the city) couldn't last..

"Hello, Taylor." he said, after answering his chiming phone.

At least she'd waited until after lunch to call this time. He always felt so much better when he managed to get his full morning nap in.. especially on Mondays.

"I found another sword." Taylor replied, sounding rather cross.

Naturally. The director would be insufferable when she heard about it.

"I see. Where did you find it at? You're at camp still, right?" he asked, bringing up the location of her phone's tracking device.

"Yeah, I'm here still. I found it on the bottom of the little lake the camp is built next to."

"How did you do manage that?"

"By almost cutting my toe off while swimming." the girl growled, sounding particularly unhappy about it.

"Are you alright?" he asked, genuinely concerned for the girl.

"Yeah. It looked pretty bad at first.. gosh, there was so much blood.." Taylor replied. "I guess I feel a little more sympathy for that one injured guy at Medhall now.. toe injuries actually really hurt!"

"Anyway, it turned out not to be as bad as it looked, though. By the time the camp counselors came back with the first aid kit, it had pretty much stopped bleeding on its own. Which was good, because they'd thought that it was a bad enough cut that they were going to need to take me to the hospital." the girl finished, sounding a bit relieved.

"That's good. I'm glad that it wasn't serious, Taylor." he said.

"Well, since I'm too far away to bring the sword in to the P.R.T. right now, do you want to come out and pick it up? Or should I just hang on to it instead, and bring it to you next week?"

Hmm.. given the location that her phone tracker was relaying to him, the camp that Taylor was staying at was nearly a hundred miles away.. which meant that a significant chunk of his day would be eaten up just by the travel time going there and back. On the other hand though, he did need to put his newly upgraded bike through a decent shakedown cruise..

Maybe he could even convince the director to let him test out his new dual J.A.T.O. system. Two rockets meant that he could travel twice as far with them, or travel the same distance but twice as fast..

"I'll come out and pick it up, Taylor. Expect me fairly soon." Armsmaster answered, trying and failing to hide his grin at the thought of the speeds he might be able to get his bike up to out on the open road. "I'll need to find something to store the sword in before I leave, though."

"Oh, this one comes with a nifty scabbard to put it in, rather than a big hunk of rock, so that shouldn't be a problem." Taylor replied. "One of the other girls found it and fished it out, then brought it over to me while I was laying on the beach, just before my bleeding eased off."

"That's convenient then. See you soon."

"I'll be waiting."

The director had declined his request to test out his bike's full capabilities, of course. She was such a killjoy, sometimes. Heck, all of the times, really.

The sword that Taylor had found in the lake turned out to be fairly similar to the one from the church yard.. even their composition was almost identical. This new sword was a bit shorter though, a long one-hander instead of a hand-and-half or two-hander like the first was. Despite being recovered from the silty lake bottom, both it and its rather elaborately decorated scabbard were in fairly good shape. Neither seemed to demonstrate any particularly unusual powers, though. The scabbard did have a few anomalous, faint energy emissions.. which were just barely above the threshold that his and Dragon's sensors were capable of discerning. Whatever the energy emissions were though, they didn't seem to have any noticeable effects on the volunteers handling the scabbard or sword.

Armsmaster had finished his examinations of the lake sword by the next morning. He'd just placed it in storage alongside all the other items that Taylor had brought in, when he received yet another call from the girl.

"Okay, this one is kind of strange." Taylor said.

"Hit me." Armsmaster said, suppressing a sigh.

"So, we're doing some horse riding stuff today. The camp even has a cowboy who's going to show us how to do rope tricks. If we do well enough, we'll even get the chance to lasso and wrangle some calves!" the girl explained. "Only, when they handed out the lassos to everybody, mine started glowing."

"Glowing?"

"Yes, glowing. Bright gold, as soon as I started holding it."

"Are you still holding it?" he asked, concerned.

Generally speaking, it was a bad sign anytime something parahuman related started glowing.

"No, I put it down right away.. but, but.." the girl replied, sounding upset.

"But what? What's wrong?"

"They don't have any other lassos for me to use! I'm not going to get to learn any of these neat rope tricks!" Taylor explained, sounding genuinely distraught. "Stupid glowing lasso.. why couldn't it have been a normal one, instead?"

"Maybe you can share with one of the other girls." Armsmaster suggested, no longer bothering to suppress his sigh. "I'll be out to collect the glowing lasso in a bit. Try not to let anyone play around with it, okay?"

"Okay. See you soon."

Armsmaster stood before the lasso that Taylor had found the day before, musing on the rather bizarre outcome of its powers testing. He was also idly wondering what the girl might come across next (and hoping that it wouldn't be anything very dangerous) when something rather worrying happened.

The tracker he'd put into her phone, the one that she'd taken to camp with her, suddenly ceased broadcasting. He noticed this at once, as the alarm he'd programmed into his helmet's heads up display (in case of just such a scenario) went off immediately.

He sent the tracker a ping. When he didn't receive a response from it, he then pinged her phone directly. When that didn't work either, he sent the activation signal to the back-up tracker, the armored one that should be capable of surviving anything short of a direct hit by military grade ordnance.. and received nothing in return.

Cursing, he raced to his bike, composing a brief message to the director on the way. He'd been worrying that the girl might draw unwanted attention. There were multiple factions within the city (and even more outside of it) that would love to get their hands on items like the ones that Taylor had been finding. And of course, why would such people want to settle for just a few golden eggs, when they could instead steal the goose who'd been laying them?

Armsmaster arrived at the camp quickly enough that the staff hadn't even noticed that the girl was missing yet. A full search of the premises was conducted at his behest, while Armsmaster himself made for the girl's last known location.. which turned out to be a completely empty section of woods not far from the camp.

"Dragon, are you picking anything up?" he asked, having granted his long time friend full access to his armor's sensor feeds. "I'm not seeing any sign of her.. no disturbance of the forest floor, no blood, no torn clothing. There's nothing here but grass, trees, leaves, and toadstools."

"Colin, I'm not seeing anything out of place either.." Dragon replied, over her dedicated communication line. "..wait, except maybe..?"

"What?"

"Look at the ground.. see the mushrooms?"

"Yes?"

"They're in a ring."

"And?" he prompted, trying to reign in his impatience.

"Taylor phone's last known location was somewhere to within a meter of exactly the center of that ring of mushrooms."

"You're implying that her disappearance had something to do with them? That seems.. unlikely." Armsmaster said, shaking his head and pacing counter-clockwise around the outside of the ring.

"There are old folklore stories about.."

"I'm aware." he said brusquely. "However, those are simply old superstitions created by the ignorant about things they feared and didn't understand. Mycelium growth patterns are a well understood phenomena to modern science."

"I agree. However, unusual things have been happening to and around the girl on a regular basis for over a week, now."

"Yes. Unusual parahuman related things, not old superstitions come to life." he argued, continuing to circle and inspect the little patch of mushrooms. "I.. hmm.."

"What is it?" Dragon asked.

"Check the extended visual spectrum of my helmet's cameras? Are you seeing anything..?"

"..If so, it is very faint. Let me filter out the ambient light.. and the thermal residuals."

And there it was.. an extremely faint human reverse silhouette, glowing ever so slightly brighter than the background heat levels of the forest vegetation.

"Do you think that's her? Is she invisible somehow? Or intangible?" Dragon asked.

"The outline's not clear enough to tell for sure who exactly it is, but it does look about her height. I.. whoa!" Armsmaster replied, before crying out in surprise, just as he completed his third full circle around the ring of mushrooms.

Taylor, appearing quite perplexed, popped back into view. She was standing in the middle of the ring, looking about and blinking in confusion.

"Armsmaster?" she asked upon sighting him. "What the heck just happened?"

Dragon and he had managed to rule out illusion, unless the person behind it was capable of fooling not just a human, but also the electronic devices that she was carrying as well.

"The time differential is almost four hundred to one." Dragon said, as they continued their examinations of the fairy ring. "Her report of being gone for less than ten seconds was corroborated by her phone's internal clock, even though it was over an hour to the rest of the world."

"This is utterly improbable. Why would the interface of a potential portal be out here, in the middle of nowhere? And where the hell does it lead?" Armsmaster mused.

They'd been scanning and examining the little ring of mushrooms for most of the past day now. Taylor's account of what had happened to her didn't give them much to go on, unfortunately. Apparently the girl had simply been out for a walk. She'd stepped across the ring of mushrooms, and then found herself in a completely new location. Then, from her perspective, she'd been popped back only a few seconds later.. even though it had been significantly longer for everyone else.

Her description of what the other world was like was somewhat lacking.. although understandably so, given that she was there for only a moment. She had appeared within a meadow of lush, knee-high grass, with building sized mushrooms towering up around the edges of the clearing. She'd caught a few glimpses of artifice, such as doors and windows set into the stems of the giant mushrooms, and chimneys poking up out of the caps, and wooden hand tools leaned up against sturdy fencing which enclosed each mushroom-home within its own little yard and garden.. but no sign of any of the actual inhabitants of wherever she'd been.

The girl didn't seem particularly disappointed to have missed whoever they were, however. Rather, she was just rather obviously relieved to have made it back, and promptly returned to camp after explaining what she'd witnessed to them.

Once they'd known what to look for, Dragon and Armsmaster could even detect some odd energies coming from the center of the fairy ring.. energies that were suspiciously similar to those emitted by the scabbard of the sword that Taylor had found a few days previously. They weren't exactly identical, of course.. but they were both within the same ballpark. Gallingly, none of their hastily designed probes had managed to transition through the portal interface before the mushrooms making up the ring wilted overnight, and the unusual energies dissipated completely.

They were rather tired and grumpy (Armsmaster more-so than Dragon) and both a bit disappointed at having failed to solved the mystery of the fairy ring, and where exactly it had led to. Which was how Taylor found them, mid-morning the next day.

"So, I think that you're going to like this one." she said, grinning a bit mischievously. "Come on, I'll show you."

Heaving an exhausted sigh, Armsmaster made to follow the girl.

"We're caving today." Taylor explained, as she led him up a path to something that could only be called a cave entrance if one were being extremely generous. Really, it was more of a slight crack in the hillside, which dank, cold air poured out of. "We were supposed to stick together, but I saw some interesting crystals and split off from the group."

"That seems.. unwise." Armsmaster commented, as they both squeezed into the crevice, which was a much tighter fit for him than for her. "Caves can be rather dangerous to explore alone.. or even with an experienced partner."

Thankfully, the cave opened up once they were inside of it, and he flicked on his armor's headlamps in order to see his rocky surroundings better.

"I didn't stray far.. and honestly, it was worth it. They were very pretty crystals." the girl replied, turning and showing him a handful of well formed and perfectly clear green crystals. Sizable crystals, at that. "I didn't even break any of these off, they were just laying on the floor in front of the main formation!"

As they passed deeper into the cave, following along an obvious and well marked (and lit) path, Armsmaster heard Dragon's voice crackle.

"I'm losing your signal, Colin. Stay safe.."

"I will." he replied, then focused on where Taylor was leading him.

The girl turned off the cave's main path soon enough, into a narrow vertical crevice that was even smaller than the one that had made up the entrance. Armsmaster managed to squeeze through, but just barely. As before, the side channel of the cave opened up..

..onto a rather breathtakingly beautiful gallery of natural crystal formations. Most of the colors of the rainbow were present, but the predominant shade was green.

"Wow.." he commented, turning in place slowly, so he could take in the various forms of the crystals present. "I'm surprised that this isn't a part of the main path."

"I don't even think that the camp staff know that it's here." Taylor said, beaming. "I guess it's our little secret.. speaking of which, come on. What I want to show you is just around the corner."

Armsmaster followed her, still gazing at the crystals around and above him. The view was incredible, every formation and color seemingly more beautiful than the last. So much so that he felt invigorated and refreshed as they passed nearby the last one, which was a collection of spectacular fiery red-orange hexagonal columnar crystals. He felt much stronger too, almost as if he'd had a good meal and a full night's rest.

"Even if there isn't anything else in this cave.." he said, as they moved into another, much less interesting room. "..thank you for showing me that, Taylor."

"You're welcome. Now, here it is!"

In the center of the boring room, surrounded by a scattered assortment of random metal bits and bobs, was a wooden crate. And in the crate, buried among even more bits of scrap, was..

"I think it's a suit of power armor!" Taylor stated. "Finally something you might be able to use, right?"

It was a suit of power armor. Crude power armor, but power armor none-the-less. At least, Armsmaster had thought that it was crude, until he opened up an access panel to take a look inside. The suit's architecture, its engineering, its sheer brilliant artistry of design blew him away. This, more than even the room filled with crystals, made him want to weep with joy. And the most amazing thing of all?

It wasn't tinkertech.

It. Wasn't. Tinkertech.

He didn't even hear Taylor when she said goodbye to him and left to rejoin her caving group.

Armsmaster was back in his lab at the Rig. He and Dragon had spent the entire night pouring over and examining every facet of the suit that Taylor had discovered.

"Someone built this in a cave.. out of a box of scraps." he muttered, staring ahead sightlessly at the wall.

His eyes were red rimmed and rhuemy with exhaustion from several days worth of minimal sleep, but his mind was buzzing with the implications of everything they'd learned.

"It's enough to make a person feel a bit inadequate." Dragon responded, her tone an even mix between amazement and bemusement. "It's like we've been using modern math, nuclear science, and materials engineering to bang each other over the head with rocks.. and whoever built this instead smashed the rocks to powder, kicked the powder off a cliff, and then flew off the cliff into the sunset.. and used a wind-up spring to do it."

The suit was crude. It was a hastily kludged together piece of garbage, which had probably been made out of actual garbage, which wouldn't last more than a single serious fight, which was almost completely unarmed.. and it was also the single most beautiful thing that Armsmaster had ever seen in his entire life. Everything within it was so simple and elegant, done in exactly the right way and optimized to perfection, especially given the extreme material limitations and time constraints that the creator had obviously been under. It made his own suit of armor look like an over-engineered, under-powered toy in comparison. Hell, it could even fly.. if only briefly.

It also was completely mundane. Anyone could replicate it. Anyone could improve upon it too, if they were a half-decent engineer.

Completely mundane, except the nearly depleted power source.. which may as well have been a black box for all they could understand of it. Oh sure, they knew exactly what it was made of, and how it was put together, and what it did (which was to generate rather large amounts of power out of apparently thin air).. but how actually it did it? They had no idea. It was like they were a Homo erectus trying to understand how a nuclear reactor worked.. they simply didn't have the base frame of reference required to even begin to comprehend what they were seeing.

"I would give my left arm.." Armsmaster said. "..to meet the man or woman who created this."

"I would give your left arm to meet them, too." Dragon concurred.

"Hah.." he gasped, his laugh a little manic and wheezy. "You know what this calls for?"

"Stripping our kit down and redesigning it all from the fundamentals up?"

"Stripping our kit down and redesigning it all from the fundamentals up." Armsmaster agreed with a nod. "Exactly. That's why I love you, Dragon.. you really know what's important in life."

"I.. Colin, I.."

"Now.. I'm going to sleep for awhile." Armsmaster stated, staggering up to his feet and walking over to the section of wall that housed his treasured nap chair. "And when I wake up, we are going to tinker like we have never tinkered before."

He watched his chair unfold, his mind flashing with potential improvements for even something as simple as this, and made to sit down in it..

..Which was exactly when his phone rang with Taylor's ringtone.

"Oh, come on.." he sighed, looking longingly at his fully deployed and waiting nap chair.

His phone chimed again.

"Yes, Taylor.. hello? What is it now?" he groaned into his phone, after finally working up the willpower to answer it.

"Uh, I think I need some help." Taylor said, breathing heavily into her phone.

"What's the matter?" he asked, a quiet thrill of apprehension zinging up his spine at the girl's nearly frantic voice.

"Umm.. I think I need to call.. oh, shoot.. that thing you have an acronym for? A.V..? No, no.. P.V.C..? V.C.R..? Wait, I think there was an 'S' in it.. B.S.? That sounds familiar.. B.S. protocols? No, there was an 'M' too, I think." the girl babbled. "B.S.M..? Oh, B.D.S.M.! I need to call B.D.S.M. protocols!"

"Do.. you mean M/S protocols?" Dragon asked, after Armsmaster's sleep deprived mind failed to catch up in time to respond.

"Yeah, that thing!"

"Why? What's happening?" Armsmaster asked, his brain finally done rebooting.

"Well, I found something in the creek.. and then everyone went nanners."

"Nanners." repeated Dragon.

"Yeah. We were canoeing in the creek, and I saw something shiny at the bottom. I thought that it might be money, so I dived down and grabbed it.. only, it turned out to be just this cruddy little ring." Taylor explained. "But as soon as the other girl in my canoe saw it, she socked me in the eye and tried to take it."

"Then when that didn't work, the crazy bi.. girl tried to drown me." she continued. "So I finally just let her have it, and she ran off with it.. except some of the other girls saw that she had it, and chased after her. Then there was this big fight, with basically the whole camp piling on, all trying to get and keep the ring from each other."

"I was just standing off to one side watching, wondering what the heck was going on, when the ring bounced right out of the middle of the pile and rolled to a stop at my feet. So, I picked it up and ran for it." she finished, a little breathlessly.

"Where are you now? Are you safe?" Armsmaster asked, grabbing his helmet and strapping it on.

"Uh.. sorta? I climbed up the big tree in the center of camp." Taylor said, before grunting slightly.

There was a whooshing sound, followed by a thwack, a faint "ow!", and a muffled thump in the background.

"What was that?"

"Well, to keep anyone else from climbing up the tree, I've been hitting them with a big stick to knock them off the branches below me." Taylor replied. "So, uh.. come save me, please?"

"Taylor, I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Just hang on." Armsmaster stated, stomping out of his workroom.

"Colin, there's nearly a hundred miles between the Rig and Taylor's camp." Dragon protested. "There's no way you can get there that fast!"

"Yes, I can." Armsmaster proclaimed, pausing in the break room only long enough to chug down almost an entire pot of hot black coffee. "Operation J.A.T.O. rescue is a go! Director Kiljoy can't stop me this time!"

Then, laughing maniacally, he sprinted toward the Rig's parking garage and his motorcycle.

"Well, this is probably going to end poorly." Dragon commented in Armsmaster's empty workroom. "Maybe I should move a dedicated suit to Brockton Bay? Honestly, having a boyfriend can be so troublesome."

Spoiler: Author's Note

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htabdoolb

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Threadmarks Chapter Eight

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htabdoolb

Aug 1, 2020

#703

-Chapter Eight-

Armsmaster huffed in exhaustion, leaning up against the trunk of the large tree that Taylor was currently picking her way down. He'd made it in time and stopped the brawl in its tracks. Taylor was safe.

"Wow, you got here really quick.. I'm impressed." the girl grunted, just before she dropped the last few feet to the ground. "Also, it's probably a good thing that I'm here to back you up, 'cause otherwise this whole mess might make you look a little sketchy, you know?"

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Well, a guy in his forties standing over a pile of half-naked, knocked-out girls out in the middle of the woods.. it might look a little suspicious to people. Y'know, without the proper context and all."

"What!?" he repeated, even as Dragon coughed and then covered up a surprised laugh over her dedicated com line.

He looked around, taking in the strewn out heap of unconscious campers.. who he was just now noticing were all female. A bunch of girls, with even the camp counselors being only a few years older than their teenage charges, that were all in various states of injury and undress. Some were even slumped down in rather compromising positions, having keeled over more-or-less instantly mid-fight after being hit by his (base-human level) tinkertech tranquilizers.

Given the state of their torn, ragged clothes (or occasional complete lack thereof), tangled hair, and scraped and bruised skin, the fight must have degenerated quickly. Taylor's own black eye and ripped shirt were testament enough of that, and she'd even managed to stay out of the worst of it.

"I just.. but.. you..!" he sputtered, before giving up. "This is ridiculous. Also, I'm only in my thirties."

"Okay, sure." Taylor replied, in that tone that people used when they were acknowledging what you'd said, but not actually agreeing with it.

The fact that Dragon was still chortling quietly in the background didn't help matters any.

"Whatever. Let's just get this ring you found into containment." he said tiredly.

"Okay.. but don't look at it!" Taylor said, holding out her clenched fist toward him. "I don't want you going nanners, too!"

"No." he agreed, extending his own arm in return.

One of his smaller Unknown Tinkertech Containment Units was held firmly in his hand, and he turned his head away and shut his eyes.

"Alright, drop it in and then seal the containment unit." he instructed Taylor, before continuing to speak to Dragon in a softer voice. "Dragon, monitor my actions please. Let me know if I'm starting to act unusual."

"Will do." she replied seriously, her laughter finally fading away.

There was a small ringing "clink!", then the sound of his containment unit being shut and latched.

"Okay, it's done." Taylor said, sounding relieved. "Now, can you take me home, please? Camp hasn't been nearly as much fun as I'd thought it would be."

"Sure." he replied.

"Great!" the girl said, beaming.

"Just as soon as the P.R.T. agents and medical staff that are en route arrive and check everyone out." he continued. "And after you've given your complete, thorough, and no doubt very long and detailed statement."

"Aww."

"So, I managed to get both Taylor and the ring she found back to Brockton Bay safely." Armsmaster said, concluding his report.

"I see. Were there any serious injuries among the other campers?" the director asked.

"A lot of minor bruises and lacerations.. a few of which were deep or long enough to require stitching." he replied. "There was also a high incidence of sprained ankles and wrists, twisted knees and elbows, and jammed fingers.. though only a few actual broken bones. A couple dozen minor concussions, and two or three more serious ones.. but the doctors think that everyone is going to be able to make a full recovery, thankfully."

"Oh, and a very large amount of black eyes.." he finished. "..it was like I was surrounded by a bunch of grumpy and irritable teenage raccoons when they all woke back up."

"And the master effect?" the director inquired with narrowed eyes.

"Seemed to have mostly faded, though I did catch more than a few covetous looks toward the containment unit on my belt. The girls who actually managed to touch the ring during the brawl were the most seriously effected." Armsmaster replied. "We're monitoring things. Hopefully there won't be any lasting damage."

"Hmm.. good." the director stated. "How about the other things Taylor found while she was there? Anything significant? I heard she went missing for an hour or so, at one point."

"She found another sword first." he stated, ignoring the director's suddenly triumphant expression. "Then a golden lasso that glows. The sword seems more or less exactly like the previous one she found, and the lasso is.. odd, but probably not dangerous. Potentially useful, even."

"Oh, why?"

"It seems to act as a potent inhibition lowerer when wrapped around a subject. The ones who tested it all volunteered the kinds of information that I'm sure they would have much preferred to keep private, while under its influence."

"So it's a T.M.I. rope?"

"Pretty much." Armsmaster agreed. "It might be useful for quick and dirty interrogations, but getting anything a person said while wrapped up in it actually admitted as evidence to a courtroom would be highly unlikely, I think."

"A pity. What else?"

"Taylor somehow managed to find what Dragon and I suspect may have been a portal to a pocket dimension.. though I doubt that we'll ever know for sure exactly where it went, given that it faded away less than a day later." he said. "Thankfully, the girl came back through before that happened."

"Hmm.. Is that everything, then?"

"No, actually." Armsmaster replied, then took a deep breath. "Director, what would you say to the possibility of being able to deploy P.R.T. troopers in powered armor?"

"I'd say that it sounds great." the director stated. "But I thought that tinkertech wasn't suited for mass production, because no one but you tinkers have any idea about how it actually works."

"This design.. which is only a quick, preliminary one, I'll add.. is entirely mundane." Armsmaster said, opening a file and displaying it on the wall through the projector. "It's based on a cruder version that Taylor came across while at her camp. The power supply was tinkertech of some sort, but replacing it with a backpack I.C.E. unit and small battery bank is very feasible, considering that the wearer won't actually have to be the one bearing its weight."

The director spent a few moments looking at the design, tapping her fingers on her desk.

"Not tinkertech, eh..?" she mused. "How good is it, exactly? And how much would it cost?"

"It would give the wearer roughly a brute two rating.. possibly more, while allowing them to bear much heavier and higher powered arms in combat." Armsmaster said. "As for the cost.. Dragon estimates that expenses for building the base unit might be around three or four hundred thousand dollars, once the kinks are ironed out and production spools up. Perhaps less, if the designers and engineers involved can simplify and streamline the armor's inner workings more."

"You and Dragon don't want to be the ones managing this?" the director asked, tilting her head.

"It's.. neither my nor Dragon's specialty. It would be more efficient to hand over the project to regular scientists and engineers." he said.

And how much it galled him to admit it, too. It turned out to be far, far harder than they had expected for the two tinkers to design something that specifically omitted any tinkertech. Getting the design along as far as they already had was pushing them to the limits of their abilities. Mundane engineers and scientists truly were the best option to bring the project to completion.. plus, it would allow the two of them to focus back on their own work again.

"Well, it sounds good to me. I'll pass it up the chain." the director said, nodding. "God knows that we could have used something like this back at Ellisburg."

Just them, Armsmaster's helmet beeped at him. Taylor was calling again.

It had actually been almost an entire week since he'd heard from the girl. He'd have been worried, but her phone's tracker showed her moving around the city as usual. She spent the normal amount of time at all of her normal locations, which were mostly her home, her school, or the public library. So, he hadn't bothered her.. because he wasn't going to do anything that might ruin the reprieve.

"It's Taylor. Would you like me to put her on speaker?" he asked the director.

"Why not? I'm curious what the girl has been up to this week."

"Hello, Taylor. The director is with me again, today."

"Oh, sorry if I interrupted another meeting, Armsmaster." the girl replied. "Hi, director."

"It's alright. We were pretty much done anyway." he replied. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I've been having something of a problem this week.." Taylor replied. "..and I was thinking that maybe you could tinkertech me up a solution?"

"I suppose that it depends on exactly what kind of problem you're having." he replied, after sharing a slightly worried glance with the director.

"Ah.. I guess I was hoping for some anti-stalker spray.. or maybe a can of creep-be-gone? I'd even settle for weirdo repellent."

"Is someone stalking you?" the director asked, looking alarmed.

"Well, not someone, exactly.." the girl replied, sighing. "..there's actually been a whole bunch of strange people following me around this week."

"Explain." Armsmaster ordered, rather alarmed himself. "Please."

"Sure. The first guy showed up the day after I got home from camp." Taylor began. "I noticed him hanging around outside the house. He was just standing there and staring at it, like he was trying to see through the walls or something."

"Anyway, I went out to tell him to go away.." she continued. "..which was when he told me that he was my real father."

"He what?!" the director asked.

"That was my reaction, too." Taylor replied. "I told him that I was perfectly happy with the dad I sort of have already, thanks, and that he should leave and not come back. Then I slammed the door in his face."

"What did this man look like? Did he say what his name was?" Armsmaster asked, already taking notes.

"Oh, he was pretty big. Probably even taller than you, Armsmaster. He was wearing a trench coat and had black hair with a silly little curl coming down on his forehead. He also had pale skin and said his name was Clel, or something like that."

"Clel?" the director repeated. "What kind of name is that?"

"Beats me. Like I said, the guy was weird."

"What happened after that? Did he leave?"

"I thought so at first, so I went back up to my room. Only, a few minutes later he pops his head into my window, which I had open for the nice breeze that day, and says "Hi, Taylor!". It scared the crap out of me, so I threw the first thing I could reach at his face.. which happened to be one of those big green crystals I'd found at camp, because I had been in the middle of adding them to my rock collection."

"Did you hit him?"

"Oh yeah, right in the eye. You should have heard him yell when he fell."

"Fell?"

"Oh, my room is on the second floor. I guess he climbed up the outside wall before he stuck his head in my window, though I didn't hear him do it." Taylor explained. "Anyway, he must have hurt his leg when he fell, because he was outside on the ground, rolling around and holding on to it while crying. Honestly, from the way he was carrying on you'd have thought that he'd never hurt himself before."

"What happened then?"

"I called him an ambulance." the girl replied. "Then I waited for it come and watched the paramedics load him up. He seemed pretty upset when they cut open his pajamas to look at his leg."

"He was wearing pajamas?"

"Yeah. He must have ditched his trench coat somewhere, because all he had on was a set of blue pajamas and some underwear, which he was wearing outside of his pajamas for some reason. He even had a little red comfort blanket wrapped around his neck, too. I told you, he was a weirdo."

"Has he been back to your house?" Armsmaster asked.

"No, I haven't seen him since the ambulance took him away." Taylor replied. "Not that it matters, because an entirely different stranger showed up the next day and told me that he was actually my real father, too."

"Wait, another one?"

"Yep. At least this one was courteous enough to just ring the doorbell, rather than hang around outside like a creeper." she said. "I just said to him: "Look bub, I've already got one dad, kinda, and I don't need another. Also, you need a haircut." and then told him to leave."

"What did he look like? And did he leave?"

"He was a buff white guy with ridiculous hair and sideburns. Seriously, he looked like a weasel that had been caught outside in a hurricane. Also, there's no way he was actually my dad, because he was really short. I had at least six inches on him." Taylor said. "Thankfully, he took the hint and I haven't seen him since, which was something of a relief.."

"Well, that's good." the director said, sounding a little relieved herself.

"..but not that much of one, because the next day some weird lady found me at the library. She cornered me next to the computers and told me that she was actually my real mother, and that she was here to take me 'home'." she continued. "Which made me kind of angry, really. I told her that my mother was dead, and that I didn't need some crazy woman trying to replace her, thank you very much, and that she should leave me alone."

"What happened then?"

"She said "You'll thank me for this later." then grabbed onto my arm and started talking in gibberish." Taylor said. "Whatever she was saying sounded very strange, not like any language that I've ever heard of."

"Do you remember any of it?" asked Armsmaster. "It might help us identify her."

"It was something along the lines of 'Ekat ym dlihc dna I emo~erk!', but I didn't let her finish."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, once she grabbed me, I figured she was up to no good.." Taylor explained. "..so I kicked her between the legs, and then ran away. I guess she got the message, because I haven't seen her again."

"What did she look like?" asked Armsmaster, still furiously jotting down notes.

"She was a black haired white lady. She was wearing this ridiculous outfit, too.. I actually thought that she was an exotic dancer that got lost or something at first. It was high heels, fishnet stockings, and the top half of a tuxedo.. super tacky."

"Please tell me that she was the last of them?" the director asked, shaking her head.

"Hardly, I'm not even halfway through the list yet."

"Oh, god.." the director groaned, putting her head in her hands.

"Who else accosted you this week?" Armsmaster prompted.

"Well, there was this weird L.A.R. dressed up like a wizard, who kept following me around and trying to get me to say his name.."

"Which was?"

"I don't remember. Chasm, or Kazim, or something like that? He seemed a little crazy, so I was trying not to listen too close or look him directly in the eyes."

"How long did he follow you for?"

"Until I kicked him between the legs and ran away." Taylor replied. "It had worked rather well the previous day, so I thought I'd try it again. I think I've found my special move. It was the next one that was probably the weirdest of all, though."

"Why is that?"

"Because he was about nine or ten feet tall, and almost as wide."

"Really?" Armsmaster asked, blinking in surprise.

"Yeah. He told me that I was a witch and waved another big old letter at me. I told him that he was a jerk, and that witch was a rather rude thing to call a girl, and then slammed the door in his face."

"Wait, another big letter? It wasn't the first?"

"Oh no, they'd been coming for a little over a week at that point, and more every day. I didn't bother you about them because I'd thought that they were just more junk mail. The letters I got while at camp I used to start the campfires every evening. The ones I got at home I used to line the flowerbeds to try to keep the weeds down, or just dumped into the mulch pile." Taylor said. "Anyway, the big guy just wouldn't take no for an answer. He even 'accidentally' knocked my front door down."

"What did you do to get rid of him?"

"Well, he seemed a bit too big to try and use my new special move on, so I just called the police and got him deported. He was in the country illegally, after all. I also got a mail block for the letters. It seems to have done the trick."

"And then who showed up next after that?" the director asked, seemingly unable to help herself.

"Well, next was two ladies at the same time, actually. The first one was dressed up in a long, white gown and was wearing a crown made up to look like ice. The other was wearing a green dress and had a crown of leaves. They were both ridiculously pale, and had white hair, and I think that they might have been twins.. I know that they were sisters, at least." Taylor said. "And I know that because the first one had hardly opened her mouth to speak to me when the other came up and said 'Now sister, I know that you're not here to poach my selection for the next Summer Lady, right?', to which the first replied 'Dear sister, we both know that Taylor's temperament is clearly aligned with Winter.' Then they started arguing and sniping back and forth at each other."

"Of course, these two lunatics did this in the middle of school yesterday. At least they chose to show up during break, rather than in math class or something." Taylor continued. "Anyway, it devolved after that. They started slapping and pulling on each other's hair, and half the school circled up to watch. Of course, once their clothes began to tear, everyone started cheering, especially the boys.. which I really can't blame them too much for, because whatever else those two crazy women had going on, they were pretty gorgeous. I managed to slip away in all the confusion, so I have no idea how the fight ended."

"I'm sure the school staff broke up the fight and took care of everything." Armsmaster said, trying to reassure the girl.

"I'm pretty sure that they didn't." she countered.

"Why is that?" the director asked.

"Because the staff at Winslow couldn't find their own asses if they used both hands and a map." the girl retorted, sounding aggrieved. "Anyway, I was hoping that the two nutballs who showed up at school yesterday would be the last of them, but then yet another 'actually my real father' turned up today."

"Is he still with you?" asked Armsmaster, stiffening in his chair. "Do you need assistance?"

"No, I managed to ditch him. He was hungry, so I took him to Fugly Bob's down on the boardwalk." the girl explained. "While he was drooling over their challenger burger, 'Wait, so if I can eat the whole thing I get it for free? Can I have two!?', I went and snuck out the restroom window. For all I know, he's still there."

"What does he look like?"

"Well, I had thought that he was a A.B.B. member with ridiculously slicked up hair at first, because he was wearing what looked like a martial arts outfit with Chinese or Japanese characters on it. But then I realized that his clothes were orange and blue, instead of red and green, so maybe not. He was pretty buff, though, if that helps."

"Hmm.. I might swing by there after this conversation is over, just to check." Armsmaster commented, as he finished his notes. "Was there anyone else, Taylor?"

"No, not right now. Hopefully they'll all have gotten the message, and I can have a nice, peaceful weekend." the girl replied. "I'd like to begin looking around for a good place to start my fish farm actually, and I don't need a bunch of creeps following me around while I do it. Speaking of which, is there any possibility that you could make me something to help with that, Armsmaster? I'd really love a can of anti-stalker spray right about now."

"Well, I suppose that I could give you a few canisters of the heavy duty mace we have here for P.R.T. agents and troopers to use, so long as you promise not to abuse it." Armsmaster mused. "Also, please don't hesitate to call me, or even just the regular police, if you ever feel threatened by anything, Taylor.. Exactly like you did with that very tall fellow, actually."

"I will, and I guess that being able to melt people's eyeballs with pepper spray is a pretty decent option for discouraging weirdos. Thank you Armsmaster."

"You're welcome Taylor. Come by any time to pick them up." he replied, before the girl ended the call.

"Well, that happened." the director said, shaking her head. "Give her plenty of the pepper spray, Colin. I don't want to hear that she's come up missing later."

"Yes, director."

"Say, what did you wind up doing with that ring that had the compulsion on it, anyway?"

"I gave it to Dragon for safekeeping." Armsmaster replied. "Since she operates her suits remotely, it seemed the safest course of action."

"I see. So.. you gave the golden ring, the one which everyone who sees can't help but desperately desire, to a reclusive woman who took her name from a mythical creature, one famous for coveting and hoarding ill gotten treasure." the director said, arching an eyebrow up at him.

"Yes?" Armsmaster answered.

"Well, I'm sure that will all work out fine."

Last edited: Aug 1, 2020

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htabdoolb

Aug 1, 2020

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Threadmarks Chapter Nine

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htabdoolb

Aug 2, 2020

#887

-Chapter Nine-

"So, I think that you're going to want to bring a hazmat suit for this one.." Taylor said, after Armsmaster answered his phone.

"Oh? How come? What did you find?" Armsmaster asked, sitting up and giving the girl his full attention.

If even she thought that whatever she'd found was dangerous enough to warrant such measures, then it must be hazardous indeed. Hopefully, it wouldn't be anything like the unknown green substance that she'd come across at Medhall. That had been bad.

"You remember that green goo at Medhall? I think it might be more of that.. only worse, maybe."

Of course it was.

"Give me the location. I'll be there as quick as I can." he said.

"Okay. It's down by the docks, right along the waterfront. I came across it while I was looking for places to maybe start my fish farm." she replied, before giving him the exact address. "I'll be waiting."

"Don't get too close to whatever it is."

"No way." Taylor agreed. "This stuff looks nasty."

He composed a pair of messages before he left, sending one to the director and one to Dragon, apprising them both of the situation. He had a feeling that they would want to know what was happening.. especially the director. The woman was understandably sensitive about such things going on in her town.

It was worse than the Medhall incident, which was saying rather a lot.

He was in his suit of armor with the full face mask and helmet, the entire thing sealed off from the outside world, looking down at the spill from above. The green goo was leaking out of several cracked metal and glass cannisters, which had spilled from an entire broken crate of the damned things. He didn't need his Geiger counter to know that the mysterious green liquid was hazardous, because right on the cannisters themselves was a clear yellow label warning of their contents' radioactivity.

"Be careful, Armsmaster." Dragon warned, rather unnecessarily. "Don't get close if you don't have to. I have a suit en route to Brockton Bay, and I'd much rather it be exposed to whatever that substance is than you."

"I concur. Stay well back." the director agreed.

Dragon, of course, had access to his armor's entire suite of sensor feeds. He was also sending the director the video from his helmet's main camera, so that she could observe from her office. Even Taylor (who was wisely staying back from everything) was getting a low resolution video feed from him, direct to her phone because she'd thought to ask for it when he'd arrived on site..

..Which he was rather regretting giving to the girl, now. A child her age should not be exposed to what they were all seeing. Hell, even he didn't want to be looking at it, because it was just that bad.

"Those poor turtles.." Taylor murmured over her connection, sounding rather upset.

The crate full of canisters had been dumped along the waterfront, as Taylor had told him. Whoever had put them there had at least tried to cover up what they'd done, because the crate was mostly hidden from view. It was tucked up into a large storm drain's outflow pipe, and it seemed as if it hadn't been there for very long.. probably only a few weeks, at most. And while he didn't know for sure how much time it had taken for the canisters to start leaking, he would bet that it hadn't been very long after they were dumped at all. A messy comet tail of the green scum was leading from the busted crate and canisters directly into the waters of the bay.

Thankfully it wasn't a straight, direct shot from the outflow pipe to the shore. There was a few dozen yards of what remained of the rough creek bed that the storm drain had replaced. Most of the viscous green goo had pooled up in the rocky cracks and crevices of the bottom of the creek bed, so cleanup probably wouldn't be too terrible or lengthy.

Unfortunately, that didn't mean very much for what that had been already exposed to the unknown chemicals leaking from the canisters. The effects that the goo had on the living things that touched it seemed rather extreme; either it killed them outright, or it instead mutated them, often horribly. For the flora exposed, this was not so bad. For the fauna, however, it had some particularly hideous results.

Prime among them was the small group of turtles at his feet. They were twisted and misshapen, like someone had taken an uncured clay sculpture of a normal turtle and tried to crudely force it into a more humanoid shape, regardless of the distinct differences in anatomy between a turtle and a human. The results looked something like what might happen if a person and a turtle mated, and the resulting embryo was somehow viable. At least partially viable, at any rate, because the wretched things were obviously unable to live for very long on their own in the wild. They were practically immobile and starved to the point of shrunken emaciation, which just made their bizarre appearance even more repulsive.

That they were constantly crying out and moaning in obvious pain at their horrible plight was just icing on the cake. The fact that their cries sounded disturbingly human-like made all this the stuff of nightmares.

They weren't the only animals that had been so affected, although they were ironically perhaps the best off. A rat or two had been exposed as well, with similarly horrific yet thankfully fatal results. Some insects had managed to get into the green goo too, turning into enlarged, twisted, and weakly twitching versions of their normal selves. Even some of the sea life at the shore had been tainted. Armsmaster saw a mutated crab struggling feebly beneath the shallow water, which appeared to have most of its insides now on the outside.

"Well, this is awful." he commented.

"Do you see any markings on the crate or canisters? Anything we can use to identify where this stuff might have come from? Anything at all?" the director asked, her voice tight.

"Give me a few moments.." he responded. "There's some other things that look like they were dumped at the same time, but they're right next to the crate."

He extended his halberd to its maximum length, then reached out and poked at the sodden cardboard boxes that were piled up around the crate. Several turned out to be filled with a random assortment of old, thankfully standard chemicals and chemistry equipment. Still not things that he'd prefer to see dumped practically right into the waters of the bay, but much less serious than the green, radioactive goo, at least.

The last box, however, proved more informative. It had been shielded slightly from the intermittent spring rains, and lifting the lid revealed several reams of loose paperwork, which were damp but intact. And on the header of almost every single page was an all too familiar company logo..

"Medhall." Dragon said.

"Medhall." Armsmaster agreed.

"Fucking Medhall." the director growled out, through clenched teeth.

"Well, now I'm really glad that I didn't take that internship." Taylor commented. "Also, I'm definitely not setting up my fish farm in this part of the bay."

Armsmaster was in his lab. Unusually, he wasn't tinkering, but merely sitting and thinking. The chemicals Taylor had found down by the shore had clearly originated from the Medhall building. They'd probably been hastily dumped in the short window between the original Medhall giant insect incident and when Armsmaster had returned a few days later with numerous warrants and P.R.T. personnel, intent on searching the whole compound from top to bottom.

Gallingly, absolutely nothing of note had been found during their sweep of the Medhall building, which had been suspiciously clean of even normal dust and dirt, let alone anything incriminating. Between the hesitancy of the local district attorney to proceed on 'circumstantial' evidence, the sluggishness of the court system in general, and the continued resistance and push back from the phalanx of lawyers that Medhall had hired to defend itself, the case against them had ground to a halt. Add to that the fact that some of the critical evidence in P.R.T. custody had gone conveniently 'missing' over the past few days, including many of the newly found Medhall documents from the spill site.. well, it was easy to understand why Armsmaster might be frustrated with the whole situation.

Corruption in Brockton Bay had always been a problem, but to be so blatantly slapped in the face with it when he knew, knew for a fact, that Medhall was up to some seriously illegal shenanigans was driving him to distraction. That there were links to the Empire somewhere within the company only made things worse. This was his state of mind when he received a call from one of the reception desks in the lobby.

"Sir, a Taylor Hebert is here and would like to see you. I'm not seeing an appointment scheduled. Should I send her away, or tell her to wait? Oh, she says that she has something for you."

"No, go ahead and send her up." Armsmaster said, rubbing tiredly at his temples as he wondered what the girl would drop in his lap this time.

"Yes, sir. At once."

Taylor arrived a few minutes later, bidding her courtesy escort farewell before stepping into his lab. It was the first time that she'd been inside of it, and she spent a few moments looking around with interest at all of his various tinktech tools and equipment. She was carrying what appeared to be a rolled up rug slung over one shoulder.

"Hey, Armsmaster. How're things going?" she asked cheerfully.

"Hello Taylor. Not that great, actually.."

"Still having trouble with Medhall?" she asked, sounding sympathetic.

"Yes. Without something more concrete, or even firsthand witness testimony, I just don't know if we'll be able to get anything to stick against them.. it's very frustrating." he replied, sighing.

"Hmm.. that's too bad. Would you like something to distract you from all of that?"

"Heh, sure. What have you got for me today?"

"A rug." she replied, hefting the item in question off of her shoulder and smoothly unrolling it onto the floor of his workshop. It looked rather old and tatty, with a distinct Persian flair weaved into its faded but colorful threads.

"A rug?" he asked, slightly bemused. "What does it do, fly?"

"Yep." the girl replied simply, before carefully sitting down right in the center of the unrolled rug.

Armsmaster watched, with his mouth hanging open in surprise, as only a moment later the rug rose slowly into the air. It came to a stop about half a meter above the floor, and seemed to be supporting the girl's weight easily.

"Well.. that's not something you see every day." he commented, before getting down on his hands and knees to look beneath the floating rug. "Does it just float, or can it move too?"

"Oh, it can move." the girl said with a nod. "Just not very fast."

Then she began to make rowing motions, as if she were using an oar inside of a canoe, and the rug began slowing floating forward. She circled the inside of his lab a few times, then brought the improbable thing to a halt and lowered it back down to the ground.

"Fascinating.." he said, sending Dragon a quick T.H.T.T. (Taylor Hebert TinkerTech) alert. "..are the rowing motions necessary to make it move?"

"No." the girl replied, giving him a cheeky grin. "They're just kind of funny."

He gave her a flat look in response, to which she only grinned all the wider.

"Very amusing. Where did you find it?" he asked, as Dragon's avatar popped up on his display.

"In a little stall down at Lord's Market. They had all sorts of old middle eastern stuff." Taylor explained. "Rugs, incense burners and a bunch of different types of incense to go with them, shawls, robes, and other clothes.. even a pretty cool old brass oil lamp that I was going to get.. until I got a whiff of how it smelled. It was totally funky and rank, like rancid oil and old body odor.. almost as if someone had been living inside of it or something, so I passed on it."

"Anyway, it wasn't until I took the rug home and unrolled it that I realized that something strange was up with it." she finished. "So, I figured that I should probably bring it to you."

"You didn't consider keeping it? It seems like the kind of thing a young person might like.. a real flying carpet." Dragon asked.

"Nah, it's pretty slow, actually. It doesn't seem to go any faster than a slow walk, and it can't rise more than a few feet into the air." Taylor replied. "I'd rather stick with my bicycle, really."

"I see." Armsmaster said. "Where exactly was this stall located at in the market?"

She told him, then waved goodbye to Dragon and took her leave of them.

"Are you going to go check out that stall?" Dragon asked, once the girl was gone.

"Yes, just in case there's anything else unusual that they're selling." Armsmaster replied, nodding. "Because that would be just what the city needs, people selling random tinkertech down at the local flea market."

"Umm.. Colin? When you get back, do you think that we could maybe talk?" Dragon asked, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of herself.

"About what?" Armsmaster asked distractedly, as he readied his gear.

"Uh.. I.." Dragon stammered. "Oh, never mind. It's nothing. Good luck with your search."

"Okay." Armsmaster replied, shrugging and taking her at her word. "I'll see you when I get back, then. Even if I don't find anything else, we can still do some tests on this rug."

The stall that Taylor had described to him had been gone when he'd gotten to the market. He's asked around, but no one else seemed to remember much about it or what exactly it had sold, just that it had been briefly set up and then taken down again only a short while later. A bit frustrating, but par for the course it seemed, when it came to the things that the girl came across.

"Well, we can still examine this, at least." Armsmaster said to Dragon, as he stepped gingerly onto the threadbare rug that Taylor had left him. "Are all the sensors online?"

"Yes, everything is reading green." Dragon replied. "Go ahead, whenever you're ready."

"Okay.. Up!" he commanded, while looking down at the rug intently.

Slowly, hesitantly, it rose up, just a few centimeters at a time, until it hovered about as high as it had for Taylor.

"How does it feel?" Dragon asked.

"A bit strange.." Armsmaster replied. "The rug's surface isn't completely solid, there's some give to it.. sort of like standing on a very firm waterbed, I'd imagine. I'm going to try to make it move now."

With that, he shifted in place and leaned forward slightly.. only to have the rug shoot out from beneath his feet as if it had been oiled.

"Whoa-ah!" Armsmaster bellowed, before face planting into the floor.

The floating carpet crashed into the opposite wall and then fell to the ground, inert once again.

"Colin! Are you alright?"

"Oww.." he groaned. "Yesh.. but by nobe might not be."

"Your.. what?"

"By nobe.. I think I broke by damb nobe. Ow." Armsmaster repeated rather nasally, cradling his face in his hands.

Just then his phone chimed with an alert. Taylor had sent him a message by text.

"Could you get dat pleab, Dragon?"

"Of course, Colin." Dragon said. "Oh, apparently Taylor has some more information about the rug. She says to be careful when testing it, because it can act rather squirrelly.. a lot like a skateboard, apparently. She strongly reccommends not using it while standing up."

"Ob course, now she telbs me." Armsmaster sighed, before wincing again. "Ow."

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htabdoolb

Aug 2, 2020

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Threadmarks Chapter Ten

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htabdoolb

Aug 4, 2020

#1,016

-Chapter Ten-

Sometimes, Lisa reflected, having powers sucked.

For example: right here and now. Her mind and instincts were telling her that she was utterly screwed, and her stupid power was in complete agreement. Why couldn't it have shut up just this once, and let her have a shred of hope? After all, surely it was possible to escape from an angry Lung on foot. Extremely unlikely, but possible non-the-less.

Unfortunately, her power was all too was happy to inform her of just how much closer the half-transformed rage dragon was every moment that the chase continued. Of how the A.B.B. leader's breathing was only growing deeper and more powerful, while her own was shallow from exhaustion and weak from pain. Of how Lung's heavy steps were sure and steady, where hers were clumsy and frantic.

The damned casino heist had gone wrong from almost the very start. Contrary to her power's expectations, the A.B.B. had been very quick to respond to the attempted robbery. The problem was a point of data that she'd somehow over looked during her planning: namely, that someone had been telling tales to the Brockton Bay police department. The cops had responded to the unexpected windfall of information with gusto, arresting street dealers, raiding drug houses, and confiscating stockpiles of both product and weapons.

The fact that the cops always managed to hit the places that they were targeting when they were least defended was very interesting indeed. It meant that either someone inside of each gang was providing the information to the police (unlikely, given that being a gang member generally paid better than being a snitch), or that someone outside of the gangs was somehow able to divine their schedules without being noticed. Said someone was most likely a thinker of some sort, her power supplied. Probably a fairly new and independent one, given that the P.R.T. hadn't been involved with any of the busts.

All of which meant that the gangs had been very on edge recently, and were reacting to even minor provocations with extreme alacrity and force. Hence, the intended robbery of the Ruby Dreams Casino had shuddered to a halt before it had even properly begun. Thankfully, with Bitch's dogs for transport, the team had thought that they had been able to make a mostly clean get away.. until Lung himself had started chasing them.

Lisa had been thrown from her mount after one too many hard landings, and the others had simply kept on going. Grue had at least had the decency to shoot her what her power told her was a regretful look from behind his motorcycle helmet's visor. The other two members of the Undersiders hadn't even bothered looking back at all, however. Unfortunate, but not unexpected, given how new of a team they were.. they honestly barely even knew each other yet. You didn't get far in the villain business by being willing to risk yourself for a stranger, even one that was supposed to be your teammate.

Panting desperately, with a terrible stitch in her side that was shooting agony through her body with every breath, she rounded one last corner with Lung literally hot on her heels..

..And ran face first into a girl coming the opposite direction.

They both went down hard in a tangle.. Lisa with a curse as her face exploded with pain, and the other girl with a surpised squawk from being hit in the chin by Lisa's nose. A long, cylindrical object that the girl had been carrying (possible tinkertech, her power supplied) clattered out of her hands and into the gutter. They both tried to scrabble to their feet, but only managed to get in each other's way.

Finally, Lisa was able to yank herself free from the other girl's long, gawky limbs and stand upright, just in time to feel a very large, very hot hand descend upon her shoulder and grip it just hard enough to not quite break her bones. But only barely.

"Go' you.." growled Lung from several feet above her head, his voice coming out thick and slurred from behind a row of oversized, sharp, and rather pointy teeth.

As Lisa stood there, unable to move and with her bladder about a second from emptying itself in pure, unadulterated fear, the other girl got to her feet. She was probably about Lisa's own age (a year younger.. thank you power, for that currently completely useless bit of trivia) but a bit taller, with long, curly black hair and glasses. The eyes behind said glasses grew wide as she took in the scene before her, Lisa helpless in Lung's grasp, and she gasped.

"Lung!" she cried out while pointing up at him dramatically, before digging frantically into her pockets.

Then she raised up a surprisingly large canister of mace (P.R.T. issue, thank you power), bellowed out "I'm not your daughter, yah creep!", and let fly at Lung's face.

A surprisingly thick stream of heavy duty pepper spray squirted right into the A.B.B. dragon's eyes, surprising him enough that he loosened his grip on Lisa's shoulder. It was enough of an opening for her to squirm free, and she darted around behind the other girl..

..who simply kept up the stream of mace spraying into Lung's face. The man dragon let out a choked roar, and whipped his head back and forth in a futile attempt to dodge the stream. The curly haired girl kept her canister aimed right on target though, and held the release until the stream began to taper off. The spray can sputtered weakly, gave one final little limp dribble and spatter of pepper spray, then quit entirely.

Lung, with his already puffing up eyes still shut hard, straightened up. His hands, which had been open in a futile attempt to block the stream, clenched tight into fists, his knuckles popping ominously.

"Oww.." he growled out through sharp, gritted teeth.

"Dang.." the curly haired girl commented. "That didn't work nearly as well as I'd hoped."

She sounded only mildly disappointed, and began digging around in her pockets once again.

"I've got another one here somewhere.. give me a moment." she muttered as she searched.

"No." Lung stated, a small burst of fire backing up his command. "Step aside, girl. Give me the Undersider."

He still hadn't opened his eyes, but Lung not being able to see really didn't make him any less frightening, for some reason.

"Give you the who now?"

Other members of the A.B.B., each as out of breath as Lisa herself was, pounded up the street to arrive behind their leader.

"Great Lung, you've caught some of the thieves!" one gasped, before leaning heavily up against a nearby wall.

He looked like he might faint. Lisa felt about the same way. The long run followed by this pseudo-standoff was killing what was left of her nerves.

"I'm not a thief!" the girl protested indignantly.

"You dare deny it!" countered another gang member.

Lisa began preparing to make another dash for freedom, but it seemed that Lung knew her intentions.

"Enough." he commanded, silencing everyone else present. "Undersider. Your little band of pathetic sneak thieves tried to steal from and insult me. You owe me recompense. Try to run from it and suffer the consequences."

"Umm.. if it makes any difference, it wasn't my idea.. and I didn't particularly want to do it in the first place." Lisa spoke up. "Would it help if I said that I was sorry?"

"It would not." Lung replied, his eyelids opening a crack, the fiery, glowing orbs beneath peaking out. "And you, girl. You dared attack and distract me while I pursued my rightful vengeance. This too, is an insult that I shall not allow to pass unanswered."

"Sorry." the curly haired girl said, shrugging. "I thought that you were another one of the weirdos that's been following me around lately. My bad, I guess."

Everyone else present looked at her at this. Strangely, for someone facing down an angry Lung, she didn't seem very concerned about the situation.

"Since you managed to steal nothing of value from me, Undersider, and no attack of yours could actually harm me, girl, your lives shall not be forfeit this night." Lung continued, apparently choosing to ignore the curly haired girl's strangeness. "However, I still demand repayment for the insult of daring to stand against me.. and since I doubt that either of you have any other means of fulfilling such an obligation, your bodies will have to suffice to settle the debt!"

Lisa gasped as A.B.B. members circled around her and the other girl. Some of them were grinning rather evilly.

"Take them both.." Lung ordered, his breath hot and heavy as he leaned down in a rather intimidating manner over the pair of them. "..to the Farm!"

"This.." Lisa gasped, from where she was bent over and panting. "..this is so much worse than I expected."

She was barely standing on wobbly legs, her knees weak and trembling. She was sweating and flushed, and her chest was heaving in an attempt to suck in enough air. Such was the abuse that her poor body had been put through over the past few hours that it felt like she might pass out at any moment. Even the girl across from her, whose name was Taylor apparently, was not entirely unaffected.. though she seemed to be bearing up under the pressure of the situation much better than Lisa herself was.

The line of A.B.B. members behind her jeered, causing her to shudder.

"Come on, it's not that bad." Taylor replied, as she kept a firm grip on the hard shaft before her. "Honestly, haven't you ever done something like this before? Just try to enjoy it."

"En.. enjoy it?" Lisa wheezed, barely holding back tears. "This.. this is awful! How could I ever enjoy it!?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic." Taylor said, rolling her eyes as she began the work the stiff wood in her hands back and forth, rocking slightly in place. "Lung says that we only have to do another couple dozen or so, then we can go home! Just try to concentrate on that, okay?"

"Only a couple of dozen..?" Lisa asked while holding on to her own thick pole desperately, face pressed up against its hot length. "Really? It feels like we've done hundreds already."

"Well, a couple of dozen each. Lung wants to get as much as he can out of us." Taylor clarified, before blowing out an exasperated breath. "Jeez, this one just doesn't want to come!"

"Each? Argh!" cried Lisa, as she twisted fruitlessly on the rigid pole in front of her. "I hate this.. this really is the worst!"

The A.B.B. members jeered again, seeming to take a perverse delight in seeing the two girls struggle in their apparently Sisyphean task.

"You need some help with that hoe?" one in particular yelled, earning laughs from his compatriots. "I can train you how to do it right, white girl!"

"Look, Lung said that he'll allow us to take home at least a little of the fruits of our labor." Taylor said, ignoring the mocking laughter of the gang members. "So it's not like you'll go home completely empty handed after all of this."

"But.. but.." Lisa moaned, shuddering in place again, her exhausted body wracked with emotion.

"But I don't even like vegetables!" she protested, hauling herself back upright by the handle of her hoe and sputtering in disgust. "They taste like dirt!"

"Only if you don't know how to cook them properly." Taylor countered, finally gaining enough leverage to pull the handle of her shovel backward.

The potato plant that she'd been struggling to dig up came out of the ground with a quiet crunch of parting roots.

"Wow, those are some big taters.." she exclaimed, as she bent down to pick the tubers out of the surrounding soil, adding them to her burlap sack. "..I don't know how Lung grows them this large. Mine are never this big."

"Taylor is correct." Lung growled out as he approached them from behind. "Vegetables are very tasty when properly prepared.. and they're quite good for you, too."

He strode through the rows of plants in the field as if he owned them, because he apparently did. Why the leader of a major gang in Brockton Bay wanted to own a vegetable farm in the outskirts of town, she had no idea. She shot the A.B.B. members who had also been drafted to help tend the fields a dirty look. They had all finished their assigned work much more quickly than she or Taylor had, and had spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in the shade and heckling the two girls in a good-natured manner.

Lung was carrying a small platter of drinks in one hand, and a full pitcher in the other. He held out the platter toward the two girls.

"Here, you look like you're about to faint." he observed, offering them each a glass. "Have some lemonade and take a little break before you finish up. It's hot out today."

"Oh my god, yes. Thank you!" Lisa gasped out, before seizing a glass and gulping down almost the entire thing in one go.

"You look pretty thirsty there, girl!" another one of the gang members yelled. "I can give you something good to drink, too!"

"Screw you, perv!" Lisa bellowed back, flipping the bird to the boy in question, who couldn't have been much older than she was herself.

"Okay!" he replied, earning a few catcalls and wolf whistles from his fellows.

"Behave, boys." Lung scolded, though he didn't sound too upset with them. "Let's try not leave our guests with too bad of an impression of the A.B.B."

"I swear, that's all boys think about." Lisa complained as she held out her glass for a refill, which Lung dutifully provided.

"Well.. I suppose that this might sound a little like victim blaming, but it's probably not entirely their fault, you know." Taylor commented, as she brushed dirt off of the last potato she'd dug up.

"What do you mean?" Lisa asked, narrowing her eyes at the other girl.

"Well.. you took a villain name that shortens to T.T., right?" Taylor said, standing up and cupping her hands before her slim chest, while simultaneously pronouncing the two letter acronym like the body part that she was mimicking. "Then you chose a skimpy, skintight catsuit for your costume, one with an eye catching logo splashed right across your chest."

"But.. I.." Lisa protested, sputtering.

"I mean, it's kind of sending some mixed signals to everyone else if you're not actually interested in that sort of thing, you know?" the curly haired girl finished with a shrug. "I mean, I'm not saying wear a burka or anything, but put on some pants, at least."

Lung snorted, then let out an amused chuckle.

"..Damn it, you're right." Lisa groaned, after looking down at her costume.

The fact that her outfit was damp with sweat and clinging even more closely to her body than normal only made it all the more obvious to her now. That she'd been bent over mere moments before, probably giving the gang members behind her quite a show, only furthered her embarrassed chagrin.

"Today sucks. I'm not cut out for physical labor like this. I'm a thinker, for goodness sake. I'm supposed to be the one telling other people what work they need to do, not the one actually doing it myself." Lisa complained, tossing her hoe down in disgust. "Can I go home yet, Lung? Surely I've paid you back already? I mean, it's not like I actually managed to steal anything from you."

"Hmm.." Lung mused, rubbing one large hand over his mask covered chin. "Tell me who your employer is, and we'll call it even."

"I.. arg, I can't." Lisa groaned. "He'd kill me. Probably literally. Scratch that, definitely literally."

"Well, I suppose that you'll have to finish out this row, then." Lung sighed, shaking his head. "Better get back to work. Those potatoes aren't going to dig up themselves."

"Can I ask you a question?" Lisa asked, as Lung loaded up a grocery bag full of vegetables for her and Taylor.

"Yes, although I may choose not to answer it." Lung replied, humming as he sorted through the day's harvest.

"Why.. this?" Lisa asked, gesturing to the fields, sheds, barn, and farmhouse around them. "Why do you have a farm, of all things? I mean, you're the leader of the A.B.B., for goodness sake. A parahuman crime lord, not a vegetable farmer."

"It can't be all drugs, prostitution, and gang fights all the time." Lung answered, without looking up. "A man would go mad. 'All work and no play', as they say. I'll bet that even the Empire has places they go to relax and try to act like slightly less terrible people."

"Plus, it is good for the boys to get out of the city every once in a while. To do something real." he continued. "It's too easy for them get lost in the gang's business, otherwise. I don't want cold-hearted pushers and murderers in my gang, but men who know why they must defend their homes and families. What they must fight for and against. Who will obey me not just because they fear me, but because they know I can reward them too. This isn't the only farm we own, after all. An opportunity to escape from the rotting center of the city with their families is something that many would work hard and pay dearly for."

"I.. see." Lisa said.

The mental image she'd had of the leader of the A.B.B. was apparently drastically different from the reality. Although this was probably not a side of him that many outside of his gang ever got a chance to see really, so how could she have known? She idly wondered if Kaiser had similar hidden depths..

..Probably not, she thought upon reflection, which her power agreed with. The guy was just a total prick, one hundred percent of the time.

"I have a question, Mr. Lung." Taylor piped up.

"Ask it."

"Why don't you fight?"

"Against the Empire?" Lung asked, before answering his own question. "Because I would not see large swathes of Brockton Bay burned down and destroyed, that's why. And that's what would probably happen if I took the fight to them in earnest."

"That's good to know, but that's not what I meant." Taylor replied. "I meant, why don't you fight the Endbringers? You've done it before, after all."

Lung went still. He was silent and motionless for almost an entire minute before finally answering.

"Because there is no point in fighting them."

Lisa, who had been put on edge by the A.B.B. leader's sudden silence, gulped at this statement.

"What.. what do you mean?" she asked.

"They cannot be beaten. Your Triumvirate has fought them time and again, and failed to so much as inconvenience them. I fought the Leviathan to what I thought was a stalemate, but he destroyed an entire quarter of my country with contemptuous ease.. all while I believed that I still had a chance of winning. They play with us, giving us just enough room for hope, before crushing it."

"They are aptly named, I think, because they will be the end of us." he finished.

There was silence for a few moments, as both girls digested his words.

"Is there really no winning against them?" Taylor asked, frowning.

Lung glanced down at her, then sorted through the pile of vegetables before him for a moment before finally pulling out one in particular. It was a large white root, with leafy greens poking out of its crown, much like a carrot.

"This.." Lung said. "..is a daikon. A Japanese radish. They grow in many parts of east Asia and even elsewhere, but are particularly treasured and prized in Japan. There are hundreds, maybe even thousands of individual varieties. Some are widespread, others are grown in only a small area of the country, perhaps just a single town or village. Still others might exist within only a single family's garden, carefully handed down generation after generation."

"How many of those varieties were lost when the Leviathan sank Kyushu? How many long years of carefully preserved tradition drowned in the cold, filthy waters that scoured the collapsing island? And that is just a tiny fraction of what Japan lost that day. While I fought the monster, it reached around me and ripped out my country's heart, as if I were nothing to it."

"And that was just one losing battle, out of dozens and dozens that have occurred across the world." Lung said. "Time and again they strike, and time and again they destroy more and more of what makes us who we are."

"So you wouldn't fight them again, even if they came here to Brockton Bay?" the girl asked, carefully taking the large white root from Lung's hands. "Even if they threatened everything you've tried to build here.. even this very farm?"

"I.. I don't know, girl. You ask hard questions." Lung sighed. "But probably not. As I said, there is no point. They always win. Better to flee and live to build again somewhere else, if you can."

"Enough now. No more questions." he stated, standing up tall but looking and sounding rather defeated. "Go home, girls. While you still have one to go to."

"So, I didn't want to mention this to Lung, but I don't think I actually have a place anymore." Lisa said, after she and Taylor had been dropped off near the boardwalk. "We.. that is, the Undersiders had a hideout, but the others have probably stripped and abandoned it because I was captured. I imagine they think I'm dead, and expect the A.B.B. to come by sometime very soon and burn the warehouse down to the ground."

"You don't want to go back to them?" Taylor asked, hefting the large sack of vegetables that Lung had given them higher up on her hip.

"Not a chance. Those losers abandoned me, so they don't deserve me." Lisa retorted.

The memory of seeing the others riding off without her still hurt. If Lung hadn't turned out to be so surprisingly reasonable, she might have truly been in mortal peril because of their actions. She didn't want to see or think about them right now, or probably ever again even.

"Well, I suppose that you could stay at my place." Taylor offered. "As long as you don't act too villain-y while you're there, of course."

Lisa considered the offer for a few moments, thinking hard.

"That can of mace you used on Lung.. that was P.R.T. issue." she stated. "How'd you get it? What's your connection to them?"

"Armsmaster gave me a couple, for just in case." Taylor replied casually. "I don't actually have much to do with the P.R.T. in general, I just turn in things I sometimes find to them for safekeeping."

"Things like.. what? And you know Armsmaster?"

"Oh, yeah. He's nice. And the stuff I find is random bits of tinkertech, strange weapons (usually swords), odd artifacts, and the occasional vial or canister of radioactive green goo."

"Are.. you serious?" Lisa asked with her eyebrows raised, before her power answered her question for her. "You are serious! How often do you actually find something like that? Please tell me it's not every day."

"No, no.." the curly haired girl reassured her. "Nothing as bad as that."

"Oh, good.."

"Usually only four or five times a week, tops."

"Oh god. I think that I'm going to regret this.." Lisa groaned. "..but I'd really rather not have to sleep on a park bench tonight. I'll stay at your house."

"Great! It'll be like a slumber party!" Taylor exclaimed, clearly excited at the prospect. "I haven't had one of those since.. well, not for a very long time. Do you have any spare clothes? What am I saying, of course you don't."

"Ah, no. Everything I had was back at the warehouse hideout." Lisa replied. "I'd intended to set myself up a safe house as a backup, but haven't had the chance yet."

"That's okay, we'll go do some shopping before we go to my home." Taylor said. "We probably don't want people seeing you walk into my house in your skimpy spandex outfit, after all."

"It's not spandex!" Lisa protested.

"Okay." Taylor agreed, without actually agreeing.

"Do you actually have enough money to buy me a set or two of clothes?" Lisa asked, taking in the frumpy hoody and jeans she was wearing skeptically.

"Oh, don't worry about that." Taylor replied. "I have more than enough squirreled away to cover buying some clothing for the tragically homeless villain that I've just taken under my wing."

For some reason, the girl's reassurances were somewhat less than reassuring to Lisa. She only hoped that she wasn't making a mistake by associating with the nice, but decidedly odd girl. She really didn't need to get pulled into any more shenanigans, because she'd had more than enough of those for quite awhile.