Call

by thejarl7166

call

4. Nitpicker

Nitpicker's Method

Alexandria stared at the man in front of her. Or rather, at the front of the group that was supposed composed of Brutes.

This man was the cape who went by the name of "Vexa," and this was his thirty-seventh participation of Endbringer fights. This suicidal participation of Endbringer battles put him in the sights of the Cauldron, of course. His early participants were noted by his focus on search and rescue operations, which then transitioned into a heavy hitter stance as a Blaster.

He was also a blindspot for Contessa.

What made her focus on him right now, though, was not the fact that he was a blindspot but that he was not a Brute.

"Vexa. You are not a Brute," she said as much. "Why are you here?"

Vexa didn't speak, merely looked at her through the bandages that covered every inch of his exposed skin. Another thing to note about Vexa. He never spoke. This, along with his suicidal number of Endbringer fight participation, earned him the nickname of "Mute Warrior" among the internet.

He tapped himself on the chest, which was covered by the hoodie jacket he always wore - which must be at least ten years old - and pointed in on the ground.

Alexandria frowned. This was not the first time Vexa had used that motion. He used it in the last Endbringer battle he participated to show that he was going to stand his ground.

"I can't have to participate as a Brute and get others hurt," she replied. "I can't let you-"

He pointed at her and then at him. He spread his arms wide open and waited.

"You… want me to hit you?"

He nodded.

She shrugged. "Your loss." And then punched him at the speed and strength of what the PRT power testers would say to be a Brute 6 or 7.

He took the hit… and didn't move.

Her eyes widened and she slowly drew her fist back. He put his hands on his waist and puffed his chest out dramatically. Almost childishly.

"Fine then," she said and tossed him his Dragontech wristband. He caught it and put it on quickly.

"Simurgh incoming!"

And the battle for Canberra began.

Armsmaster watched Vexa slam through Simurgh's telekinetic debris at Mach 17 – his helmet HUD reported so – and slammed into Simurgh's torso. Simrugh actually lurched back.

"Vexa is showing at least Brute 8 rating," he whispered to himself. "This is the seventh new power he's shown on the battlefields."

And right then, Vexa showed the third power he publically used. He reached outward, and his hand disappeared. When he pulled his arm back out, there was a giant axe with untranslate-able runes engraved on its surface in his hand. Even as Simurgh grabbed him telekinetically, he slammed that axe into her face.

To everyone's surprise, her face got cut in two.

Simurgh's scream intensified.

Then showed the second power he publically showcased. He teleported out of Simurgh's melee range and far out into the sky.

Here, he exhibited the first power he showed up with: flight. He dragged his axe behind him and charged right back in.

Simurgh didn't react until Vexa slammed into her face. All of his momentum, however, didn't come from his body but the axe he had been dragging behind. And just like that, Vexa swung his axe around with the same force that he had used to propel himself to Mach 18 this time, and struck Simurgh's neck.

Her head… lopped off.

Everyone's breath held as they watched the head fall.

Instead of dying, the Endbringer merely screamed louder and definitely not from her head.

Just then, Alexandria slammed into Simurgh from behind, taking advantage of Simurgh's focus on something everyone was realizing.

She couldn't see Vexa. The Thinker Endbringer couldn't predict Vexa.

Vexa teleported back out, and momentarily, Simurgh's attention was on Alexandria.

Armsmaster struck then. He aimed his halberd towards her and activated his new tinker mechanic built into it. The energy blade coalesced … and fired off. Simurgh saw it coming, and dodged instead of blocking with her telekinetically upheld debris.

And then she launched a huge chunk of a building at him. He jumped away to the best of his abilities and that of his power suit.

Simurgh slapped Vexa away, and Dragon winced as the second most powerful Trump in the world fly away like a broken ragdoll. He plowed through a building, and then a building behind that building, and finally clipped the roof of a three story building… some four miles from where the Simurgh was in thirty seconds.

And then he teleported right back in the fight.

As she watched Vexa pull out that axe of his, she noted to herself to make sure to catch him before he left this battle. She had so many questions about that axe of his. Her scans didn't work it. She could see it through her drones' lenses because the object reflected light. Beyond colors given off by the light and the fact that the axe did affect reality like any other axe which had a blade as long and wide as a human being, no other instrument available to her was capable of making heads or tails of it.

Like that! He just chopped off one of Simurgh's wings, but that made no sense! People have tried to chop her wings off before, but very few were capable of even scratching her feather. Those of the Triumvirate had the most success hurting the Endbringers, but even they had hard time making Simurgh or other Endbringers bleed.

And Vexa just … chopped it off with his axe.

Her sensors allowed her to detect gravity waves, rough atomic make-up, and shapes of objects by the effects they had on reality.

At first glance, the last of these should have the easiest time figuring out the shape of the axe, but it didn't! This was because at first glance, while the axe might look like it was behaving like it should – cutting and crushing things with its blade and weight respectively – it really didn't! Her senso-

"Dragon, rain it down now!" Alexandria shouted.

"Firing!"

Her Gilandra, her first attempt at a mobile missile boat, lurched as the anti-matter warhead rockets launched from its back. The seven dozen rockets flew, covering the sky with their white trails, and the first wave of the rockets – mere nine such rockets – slammed into the debris shield Simurgh threw up. Anti-matter containment unit within the rockets failed and met matter. The resulting explosion bloomed all over the debris shield.

The second wave, which consisted of thirty rockets, pierced through the hole left by the anti-matter explosion. Simurgh's telekinesis, however, caught them.

Dragon triggered early detonation.

That failed too.

But that's what the third and last wave was for.

They slammed all over the shield, and for a second, Simurgh was distracted as she pulled up more debris to at least ward off Vexa, who had gotten behind her.

Dragon activated the second wave's early detonation.

It worked.

The explosion rippled against Simurgh's fr...ont….

Dragon felt her electronic jaw drop as Simurgh telekinetically contained the anti-matter explosion.

Vexa struck then.

Only to be held mid-air by Simurgh's telekinesis.

That… that didn't make any sense. Simurgh never showed this level of telekinetic control or the power-!

"She's been holding back!" she warned everyone. "I'm doubling the Simurgh approach zone. Retreat!"

And Vexa…

Vexa struck.

Simurgh's eyes minutely widened as Vexa overpowered her telekinesis. Dragon watched, her digital jaw refusing to close up, as Vexa landed a solid hit on Simurgh's biggest wing.

And promptly sent off flying by Simurgh's telekinesis, again.

Simurgh wasted no time after that.

And rocketed off to the sky.

It took a microsecond for herself to regain composure and understand what just happened.

"Simurgh has retreated. I repeat, Simurgh has repeated."

It had been only thirteen minutes since the Endbringer had descended from the skies. It was, by far, the shortest battle to date.

And of course, no one found Vexa after the battle.

The post-battle debriefing began with her report of the discovery of Simurgh's descent from orbit three hours prior to the actual battle. It was followed by the numerous names of capes who had appeared and then died on the battlefield.

And then they – meaning Dragon herself, Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown of the PRT, Australian Prime Minister Tyler Manniesfield, and two dozen others – got the final part of this battle.

The final two minutes of the battle.

Before those two minutes, Vexa had stayed back for the most part. He helped people leave Canberra, but it was only when Simurgh's scream had hit the ten minute mark – which was two-thirds of the Scream Exposure timer – that Vexa had moved in.

And moved in he had. Despite everything, someone had gotten a video of Vexa's fight against the Simurgh out onto the internet. It showed her chopping off Simurgh's head off and the Mach level speeds at which he was thrown back and forth across the battlefield.

"I want to give him a medal," PM Manniesfield declared. "Can you find him for us, Dragon?" he asked.

"Unfortunately," Chief Director Costa-Brown spoke up first. "Vexa has never been seen outside of the Endbringer battles in the Americas. In fact, we're surprised that he showed up at all to an Australian battle."

PM looked surprised. "Is that true, Dragon?" he asked.

Dragon nodded her digital head. "Yes. Vexa has shown up for a total of twenty-three Endbringer fights, which is twice the number of fights that the next runner-up for Endbringer participants have. Most do not even survive half the number of participation that Vexa has," she began. "Despite this, however, no one has ever seen him outside of the battle. Eidolon, Alexandria, and Legend have each seen the cape once in the last battle of the 1999, but that was an exception."

"Doesn't he leave any kind of information for -?" the PM tried again with a frown.

"Sir," Chief Director Costa-Brown interrupted. "You are coasting very close to the Unwritten Rules-"

"I don't give a shit about it at this point," he huffed. "I've seen the entire battle, Chief Director. I saw how it was he who did the most damage to the Simurgh and drove her away. If it weren't for him, then Simurgh would have stayed for the whole duration of her Scream exposure, and Canberra would be getting walled right now. I want to meet and reward the man who saved the capital of Australia."

Dragon and Chief Director shared a look before Dragon answered the PM's demand.

"Your Grace, we can't give you the information you want because we don't have it."

PM looked at her as if she was daft. "But doesn't he want someone to know if he died?"

"Vexa is known online as the 'Mute Warrior,'" she added. "In all of the clips and verified anecdotal accounts of Vexa, there hasn't been a single word he spoke. Not even a grunt when he took a hit from Alexandria, which he invited for the sake of confirming his Brute rating."

"He's a Brute now, too?"

The demands ended there.

Bandages littered the hallway.

The red blotched gray hoodie jacket laid crumpled in a corner.

The dark hall hid all of these details, and within seconds of their appearance and away from the body that they were touching mere seconds ago, they disappeared. In their place was a mundane and unblemished white t-shirt.

"Shit," a hiss rang out from the bathroom in the far end of the hallway.

The lights – the white dim light that barely kept the hallway lit – flickered as something lightly hit the walls.

Spitles of blood hit the wall from the other side of the bathroom. A muffled groaned was heard.

And then a stretch of tattoo'ed skin was left on the sink. It too disappeared like the bandages and the jacket.

A tiny hand wrapped around the edge of the doorway and a head poked around.

"D-Daddy?"

There was a jerk from the man within the bathroom, and he looked down at her.

She shivered.

It always scared her whenever Daddy came back with blood on him, and despite the fact that his hands were bloody, he smiled. "I'll be right out, sweetie! Go to your mom."

She nodded and scuttled away. Mommy taught her that word. Scuttle.

Mommy was awake. She was in her bedroom with the TV turned off. It was on merely hours ago, she remembered. "Mom, mom! Dad's back!"

Mommy's head snapped up, and Jenny watched mommy's tear-stricken eyes look at her.

"Dav-. Daddy's back?"

Jenny nodded. "He's in the bathroom. He said he was gonna be right out," she said. "Daddy told me to go to mommy."

Mommy stared off into the distance for a second before tapping her lap. "Come here, Jenny."

Jenny quickly ran over to mommy's bed and then climbed over the side. She plopped herself down on mommy's lap and waited.

She pulled at mommy's feather-like hair once before mommy grabbed her hands and held them still.

"Mommy?"

"Hmm?"

"What does daddy do?"

"… He does good things."

And then daddy came inside the room.

He saw them and smiled.

"Hey, lil birdie," he said as he grabbed her cheeks. She giggled and slapped at daddy's hands.

SLAP

Jenny squeaked when mommy moved so suddenly like that.

"...Sorry," daddy said. What was he sorry about?

"Don't. Ever. Do that!" mommy hissed. And then began sobbing. "I-I-I saw you g-get hit by that b-b-"

Daddy held mommy's hands. "Not in front of Jenny, please."

Mommy nodded, but her tears didn't stop.

"Mommy, please don't cry," she mumbled. Something welled up inside her, and she began to cry too.

Daddy just laughed a little before picking her up. He walked around the dimly lit bedroom and sat down on the other side of the bed. He set her down between himself and mommy.

"Don't worry, lil birdie. Mommy's just a little surprised," daddy said.

Mommy snorted. "A little, he says. I watch him get smacked by an Endbringer, and he says it surprised me a little."

Daddy just laughed. "They're not that bad at slapping me. I mean, you certainly do better."

Daddy always laughed after coming back bloody and bruised. Blood and bruises were always gone by the time he saw her again, but Jenny remembered them all.

But daddy was okay. Mommy was okay.

Jenny closed her eyes. Sleep always came easily when she was between mommy and daddy.

A/N: This is a Worm CYOA gimel with a Golden Age pick. Yes, the SI has married Canary and has a daughter named Jenny.

374

Akallas von Aerok

Jul 23, 2018

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Threadmarks 2011.4.13 - Paigee 1

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Jul 27, 2018

#31

A Husband and Wife Talks

"Happy birthday to you~!" Paige smiled as she and her husband clapped. Surrounding them were family friends and "associates" that her husband had invited. Her mother and father had come for Jenny's birthday as well, but the majority of the invitee were those invited by David.

As much as she wanted to say that she was comfortable, she wasn't.

She knew for a fact that of the thirty people who showed up for her Jenny's birthday party, four of them were villains.

"Happy birthday, dear Jenny~! Happy birthday to you!"

And Jenny blew the candles, missing only one. Everyone laughed and clapped. Birthday gifts were soon opened, but Paige was too concerned about the others in the party.

Even as she smiled for Jenny, she glanced at the man standing in the corner of the room and clapping politely. She knew that the man there was the villain known as Baset. He was … not someone she wanted her family around. Baset was a villain who operated in Florida. Having come into the American southeast cape scene less than three years ago, Baset was one of the more powerful grab bag capes. What made her want to distance her family from Baset was the fact that Baset was a human trafficker.

What also made this situation awkwardly intense for her was that Baset was loyal to her husband.

She didn't know how that happened, but it did…. And it happened a lot.

"-mmy! Mommy, look what I got!"

Paige jolted out of her train of thoughts and smiled. "What did you get, Jenny?" she asked.

"Uncle John gave me a shark tooth necklace!"

… Right. Jenny was still at that age where something like a shark tooth necklace was an awesome gift for her.

"We can get you a Hawaiian dress and you can be an island princess!" she cooed Jenny.

"And Auntie Nan got me … this? What is this, mommy?"

Paige quickly focused on the unknown object in Jenny's hands and saw a tinkertech armored gauntlet. Her stare quickly changed into a glare and her head turned towards the perky young woman standing right next to Baset. Unlike Baset, "Auntie Nan," otherwise known as the cape "Snapfist," was a highly decorated – if a little unorthodox and casual – independent hero operating in New Orleans. She was a tinker who made glove and footwear … and stretched the definition of what was "gloves" and "footwear" by making something like Jenny's gift.

How they were okay with each other – and certainly not glaring or sending any negative messages for everyone to know – was a mystery in and of itself. Heroes and villains weren't supposed to join hands together in their civilian identities and act like there's nothing wrong.

But here they were doing exactly that for the sake of her daughter.

The party ended without any abnormal events. No hero barged in to attack Baset. No villain tried to take advantage of Snapfist's civilian identity.

And her honey was about to put on another mask.

It was the oddity that was her husband; as a parahuman, he had three identities that she knew about. With her, he was her loving and tender husband, David, who may be a little too rough in bed, but she liked that. He didn't coddle her when she didn't need it, though he gave plenty of it when she wanted it. He always made time to help her out with her songs, visit the school when there was a school fair to play with Jenny, and always arrived home in time to read Jenny her bedtime story. He was not everything she wanted or asked for, but someone who had become everything to her.

Then there was his second identity, one that was nearly as old as she was. Yes, she knew that her husband was nearly twice her age, even if he never showed gray hair, wrinkles, or even the musky old man smell. It was one of the things he confessed to her as they grew closer. In that identity, he was the mysterious cape known as Vexa. He appeared whenever an Endbringer appeared in the Ameircas and East Asia with few appearances outside of his usual "hunting" territory. He was a cape who grew ever more powerful with each cape fight he participated in. He was Eidolon's opposite; where as Eidolon appeared on stage as this unstoppable "all the powers" and aloof cape who became one of the four (now three) pillars of the Protectorate, Vexa was a lone wolf who appeared only when an Endbringer came by, and started off as this weak runner who rescued people from the rubbles. People even thought that he was a powerless cape trying to die a glorious death. But now, he was referred to as the next Eidolon while Eidolon himself was found out to be slowly losing his powers. His switch time became longer and the powers themselves became weaker while Vexa became stronger, more varied, and far more powerful, though not as powerful as Eidolon, yet.

Finally, there was her husband's third identity, one that he was about to go out in. It was the identity most shrouded in mystery, even for her.

"David, can we talk?" she asked as she placed a hand on the changing room doorway.

David looked over his shoulder for a second, a terrifyingly blank face adorning him, and then he frowned softly. Her body relaxed, unknowingly having been tense when she saw her husband so blank like that.

"Is something wrong, Paigee?" he asked as he put the second mask down and walked over to her. He placed his hands on her waist, and she placed her own hands over his. He stared into her eyes for a second. He always did this before they had a serious talk. It was like he was trying to see through her soul, trying to find out what bothered her.

It was … a part of their relationship. She was a public figure, a renowned singer, while her husband was the shadow behind her who kept her in check, who made sure she was healthy, spent time with Jenny well, balanced the books, always made sure her security guards were proper and strong, and did not let her needlessly do things she could regret. It felt very restrictive sometimes and sometimes without any support, but when she truly needed him, he was there.

But all of this came at a price.

He was shrouded in mystery, and she couldn't strip them until he determined that she was ready for them.

Sometimes, she regretted having agreed to that before they got married. She agreed to them because she believed that he would reveal them very quickly after they truly understood each other. Well, it was her fault for dreaming. She waited and waited, and sometimes even asked like she just did.

And all attempts have been denied.

He smiled.

"I've kept you waiting for a long time, haven't I?" he asked her.

She nodded once. "Yes," she said simply.

He shed his second cape costume and donned a normal attire, and he led her to the kitchen from their bedroom. The late morning sunlight bled in through the curtained windows, lighting everything in light green. He set her down on the kitchen table and extended his hand to her. "What would you like to know?"

She fidgeted for a second. She had a lot of questions prepared but now that she was about to ask them, she felt … anxious? Definitely nervous, but not quite anxious.

"Let's … start with what you do in your other identity."

Her husband, in his civilian identity, was a medium sized business owner, operating a chain of Styrofoam recycling centers.

As Vexa, he was a cape who participated in Endbringer battles only. She knew that David did not participate in those battles for the glory or the preservation of humanity. Something about his parahuman power made it beneficial for him to be near a lot of other capes, but she didn't know the exact details, of how being near other capes was useful. She did make conjectures, and knew that her conjecture was very close to the truth.

How else would her husband wield more than three powers? Outside of him, no one else was capable of wielding more than three active powers.

But the third identity, she knew nothing about. David didn't hide that identity's costume from him. In fact, he used to ask her out on dates after appearing in that costume. Unlike the Vexa costume, the third identity's costume was far more crisp and civilized. It was a business outfit like a business suit but had nothing that restricted movement or prevented the skin from breathing. It had muscular curves rather than the stiff form of a business suit. The mask he wore was also streamlined. Painted white with red simple patterns reminiscent of a tiger, it gave off a presence not unlike Eidolon, Alexandria, or Legend.

But what was it used for?

David leaned back into his chair and seemed to think. It didn't take him long to start.

"This cape identity," he began. "Is called 'The Broker.' This is because of my primary power's secondary function: I am able to bestow downgraded versions of powers I have."

Paigee blinked for a second. Then she waited as her brain digested the information that had been tossed in her lap. Finally, she reacted. Her hands slammed onto the table in an instinctive motion as she shot up from her seat.

"WHAT?!"

Her husband chuckled as if he told an old man joke, but this wasn't an old man joke! This was big! It was serious!

"We know that I have been around far longer than you've been alive, Paigee," he continued. "I triggered… very young. It wouldn't be false to say that I may be one of the first to trigger on Earth Bet with parahuman powers."

And he just kept on dropping bombs on her.

"And…?"

"Well, the truth of the matter is, I only have two powers."

She leveled a deadpan stare at him. "Nuh-uh, I saw you use more than one on TV. Try again, honey."

He shrugged. "It's my second power that allows me to manifest multiple powers. You see, honey, that power allows me to make copies of other people's powers."

See? He doesn't stop dropping bombs on her! It's kind of the definition of how their relationship played out. First, he, her crush at the time, asked her out. Next, he proposed to her after surprise 3 hours marathon sex. Then, before marriage, he told her about how he was a cape known as Vexa. Finally, he just dropped a huge bomb about his power!

"… And you use that power in your third identity?" she asked.

He nodded. "I take the copies of powers that I attain in Endbringer fights, and sell them. Or trade them for favors."

She nodded. "I see." She really didn't. "And you've been … trading powers since…?"

"Since my first Endbringer fight at New York City. It helped that one of the people who triggered because of Simurgh later on had a Master power that worked kind of like a contract."

"Who do you sell the powers to?"

"Hero wanna-be's and villain wanna-be's."

"… You sell powers to villains?"

David put his hands up in surrender. "Don't misunderstand. I don't sell big powers to anyone and anyone I do sell to are people who really want to just play."

"What do you mean?"

"… Let's take Baset, for example. The man's got a nephew he wants to dearly protect, but he has a lot of enemies."

"He's a human trafficker. Of course he has a lot of enemies," she snorted.

"Well, in exchange for him not touching our quaint city and making sure anyone he is associated to does the same, I gave his nephew a minor Brute power. The kid doesn't have to worry about bullets anymore, that's for sure."

"And all of your 'transcations' are like that?"

"Most of them are. Teenagers want some freedom? Here's a bit of flight. An old man wants to get rid of his cancer? Lung-lite, it is!" he said cheerfully, but then his body language changed to a more quiet tone with the slowness he began to exude. "Of course, not all of them are like that. Sometimes, villains find me. They don't contact me through traceable methods and they always try to extort me. Sometimes, they find out about you, Paigee."

Paigee felt a chill go down her spine.

David's smile was sad but understanding. "So sometimes, I have to give away powers in exchange for favors. There used to be a villain in Los Angelos by the name of Clubber. A real villain bully, anyone can tell you. Well, he found out about me, formed a tiny alliance of villains, and tried to track me down."

"And …?" she asked.

"Instead of giving out powers like there was no tomorrow, I called the Protectorate in my Broker identity. They knew about me, but they couldn't find me. The villains were succeeding only because they had a very specific Thinker among them suited for finding people. Well, I called the Protectorate and made them a deal. I will give new heroes but I wanted Clubber's head in exchange."

Paigee shrunk.

She … didn't know David had this side to him.

"And …?" she asked, her voice growing quieter.

"Less than three hours after my call, Clubber was found dead."

She shivered.

"… Oh."

She didn't know how else to say it. Oh, her husband traded powers for lives. Oh, her husband traded favors for powers.

"… How big is this… thing?" she asked cautiously.

"… When I said I was lucky with a Master power, I meant it. Through it, I was able to secure quite a bit of heroes and villains to come help me should I ever need it."

"How many…?"

"Roughly? A hundredth of the entire American cape population."

… A hundredth?

USA had an estimated cape population of ten thousand. A hundredth of that was a hundred capes.

Which was … actually a bit underwhelming.

David must have seen her expression because he smiled for her, and it was a sad smile. "It's only a hundredth because more than half of the people I give powers to die within the first year because of their decisions to jump in where they should not have."

"Would I know anyone who you gave power to?"

"Well, you saw Baset, and I told you about his nephew. But you're probably asking me about any big names in the Protectorate, right?"

She nodded.

"Hecarim."

Paigee felt her eyes widen.

Hecarim was … a nerd. Everyone knew that he chose his cape name from an Earth Aleph game called League of Legends. He was often ridiculed because of that and his social inability, but there was no denying that he was the strongest cape to have ever worked for PRT Cleveland. A Changer/Mover cape, Hecarim did exactly what his name's origin did: he charged in and struck hard. When he changed into his Changer form, he was as long as a freight container and twice as tall. The only comparable cape to Hecarim was Lung, the Dragon of Kyushu.

It was sad that Hecarim was one of the three casualties Cleveland suffered against the Slaughterhouse Nine, but not before he killed three of their members in 2009. He was buried with full honors and his family received the bounty of the three Slaughterhouse Nine members he killed.

"O-Oh."

"He is both an example of how powerful I can make someone… and how often they die, especially the heroes. All of them have a martyrdom complex or something," he sighed. He stood up, walked over to the coffee machine, and poured them both a cup each. He brought it over and they sipped.

"Was anyone close to you?" she asked.

David stopped mid second sip. He put the cup down.

"Do you remember Madison?"

She nodded jerkily. Madison was one of the first American cities to have been struck by Simurgh. No American forgot Madison and the horrors that Simurgh spawned there.

"Gillium was a rogue. He wanted a power that would help him better tend to his flowers. You actually received his complimentary gift on your eighteenth birthday."

Paigee's eyes widened.

Flowers? Was Gillium related to the Carnivorous Flowers of Madison?

"Did he …?"

"He didn't make it out. Or die."

He sipped his coffee, and Paigee felt the rest of her questions wither.

The blue and yellow flowers she received for her eighteenth birthday were beautiful. She still had them.

"He actually managed a third of my network of rogues, you know," David continued. "Hard worker, Gillium was. Oh, he complained like no one else did and did it loudly, but it was always for the rogues who needed help and not for himself. Well, not very often anyway. We were about the celebrate his fifth anniversary of his business's success..."

"But Simurgh came first."

"I couldn't pull him out in time. It's one of the reasons why I was actually going hard on Simurgh yesterday. Gillium is one of the few names I want to avenge."

She nodded, and silence descended between them again.

A/N: fixed

Last edited: Jul 27, 2018

302

Akallas von Aerok

Jul 27, 2018

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Threadmarks 2010.9.7 - Greg Veder 1 / Falswiat 1

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Jul 30, 2018

#49

Greg Vader

Highschool Freshman

Location: The Broker's Land

The wait was a killer, but if games taught him anything, patience was always rewarded. One simply does not attack one's enemy without doing so at the most opportune time. Today, his enemy was the interview, and he had prepared himself to his utmost effort. He'd even gone and got help from his mom and dad!

That said, staying here like this was … not exactly comfortable. The room was bare, if clean and presentable. Aside from the comfortable armchair he was sitting in, there were five other chairs just like it, all of which were facing the table at the center of the room. The distance between the chairs and the table was at least six feet, or two yards, which was odd. What was the point of the table if you were going to put it so far away from the chairs?

The room itself was white with grey and blue checker patterns sprayed here and there. At first, Greg thought this was a random pattern until he realized that all of the checkered spots in the room existed at a certain distance to the nearest chair.

Why anyone designed the room like this Greg didn't know. It was unnecessary and -.

The door to the waiting room opened, and a very hot secretary walked in. Her raven hair shined in the room's lighting, and her black, crisp, and form-hugging outfit moved bewitchingly every time she took so much as a step.

"The Broker will see you now."

Greg quickly stood up, almost dropping the folder he had been holding onto for dear life. He walked after the secretary as she left the room and down the large corridor of blue ceiling, dark green ground, and white and blue mix walls.

He looked behind him.

The door to the waiting room he had been staying at was gone. There was only a dead end that was quickly catching up to him.

He sped up.

"U-Uh, h-hi," he began, trying to get a conversation going between him and the secretary-lady. "H-How are you doing?"

"Fine," she replied, not even looking at him. Her walk didn't falter or change pace as most people do when someone starts a conversation with them.

"U-Uh, so," he muttered. "How long have you w-worked for the Broker?"

The Broker was a mysterious figure in the underworld. He was someone everyone who knew who in the cape scene knew as Numberman's rival.

You know, Numberman who is the banker of the capes. Yes, that Numberman. Sure, the Broker didn't even try to compete with the Numberman with banking, but the former gained something far less substantial but much more important with each of his dealings.

Favors.

In the cape scene, the inability to hold up to your promise, written or not, was the same as shooting your own foot. Everyone distrusted you after breaking a major promise. It was why the Protectorate was often held in contempt by people living in villain-occupied areas; they trusted the villains to hold up to their promise better than the government did. The government tried their best to keep the people's resentment down but Greg knew better.

It's also why he came to the Broker instead of the Numberman.

He found evidence, or at least made connections, between the two aforementioned capes to power granting things. Events. Whatever. No one listened to him in the PHO when he exposed this. Tin_Mother even banned him for a week for "making up villains and other capes."

Him? Make up villains?!

HAH! He'll show them…

The secretary stopped and Greg almost bumped into her. She stepped aside, and there was a door in front of him.

He looked behind him. This "hall" was no longer a hall but a room. He shuddered. He looked at the secretary for a second. She didn't look back at him, merely standing right next to the door. The message was clear: go through.

He gulped and knocked.

"Come in," a clear and masculine voice said from behind the door.

Greg put his hand on the doorknob, twisted, and pushed.

There was a push from behind him, and he stumbled through. "H-Hey-!" he turned out to protest.

There was no door.

He whirled back around, his manila folder clutched tightly between his arms and chest.

He was in a jungle now. There were trees! There were flowers and insects! There was a cobblestone road in the middle of a jungle! There was …twin stars above him.

He gulped.

He was not in Kansas anymore, was he?

"Do you intend to make me wait?"

He jolted and scurried forward on the road until he found himself running out into a clearing of evenly cut grass. And sitting in the middle of the clearing in a similar armchair as the one that Greg had waited in in the waiting room was a man in a form-fitting black business suit and white helmet with red markings.

It was him.

The cape the Deep Web said was a power dealer.

The superpower dealer.

The Broker.

"Do you intend to make me wait?"

He scurried forward again and let himself to a kneeling position in front of the Broker. The Broker, whose helmet didn't seem to face anything in particular, turned slightly as if the focus had fallen on him.

…

Oh right, the focus had fallen on him.

"H-Hello, sir."

The Broker nodded.

"You know what I ask for?"

Greg nodded hastily.

"Do you have it?"

Greg quickly presented the manila folder with both of his hands.

The Broker gently took it and opened it.

Greg didn't know why the Broker had asked for such things in their brief conversation over the Deep Web, but Greg had done it anyway.

Within the folder were three things: a pressed flower, list of things he liked and disliked, and … his favorite rock.

Yeah, Greg knew nothing and didn't even try to guess what the rock was for.

Who the hell has a favorite rock!?

Geologists, maybe.

"You are not that different."

Greg felt his head snap to the Broker for some reason of his own volition.

"Huh?"

"I expected your true self to be a bit different from how you portray yourself online, Mr. Veder. It seems that I was wrong."

Greg flushed. No one said anything good about his online handle, Void Cowboy. Did the Broker want to say the same t-

"You try your best, try to put up evidences where possible, and defend your idea to the death, metaphorically speaking, of course."

… Oh.

"That said, you are too headstrong. Inflexible and lacking any kind of self-esteem. If I were to give you even the slightest power as you are right now, then I can see how badly it will end up for you."

Oh…

"That said," the Broker said as he closed the folder. "I am not without mercy to someone who, in their young age, decided to take a gamble with their life on the line."

Greg wanted to punch the Broker right now for playing with his hopes.

The Broker, ignoring or blind to Greg's thoughts, gestured for the highschooler to come forward.

Suddenly, Greg had the shaky legs and the sweaty palms.

"All those who receive their power from me must agree to certain terms. Are you willing to listen to them?"

Greg nodded jerkily. The Broker extended his hand, and Greg grasped it. Suddenly, a blue ring lit up on the back of his hand. Greg almost jerked back, but the Broker's iron grip kept him in place.

"First, the whole of Rhode Island is off limits to any kind of vigilante or villain activity. Even if you want to act like a hero, you still stay out of the city proper of Providence."

Greg nodded, and the blue ring on the back of his hand blinked once.

"Second, there will be a time when I will need you. Refusal is not an option."

If that didn't sound like the devil's deal, then he didn't know what else was. No refusal? That was like … He didn't want to get coerced into anything serious, but he wanted this power so much. Greg nodded hesitantly.

"And lastly, I do not appreciate Slaughterhouse Nine behavior. Break this term, and I will gladly claim your life."

Greg nodded hastily. He never intended to do anything like that!

The Broker nodded.

"Do you have a specific power that you wish for?" he asked.

"I… I want to be like Vexa."

The Broker chuckled. "That is tall order, Mr. Veder. What about Vexa?"

"I want to be strong in the face of a natural disaster. I-I know I'm pitiful. I'm not strong, I'm nerdy, and I'm naive."

"Oh, the boy knows."

That stung. "So I want to … to have the courage and the power to take on disasters."

"… Even if you yourself may not survive?"

"… I don't know."

"Good. Then you will wake up later..."

'Ah, shit. He's putting … me to .. sle-'

Cerulea Marriston-Kim

Secretary to the Broker

Location: The Broker's Land

"Is that wise, sir?"

The Broker looked at her, and she felt a shiver run down her spine just like it did when she first met him.

It was a warning from her power.

The Broker is dangerous.

Compared to the first time she received this warning, the intensity of said warning had died down since then. She remembered how she wanted to bolt from the spot and run until she was on the opposite of the planet from where the Broker was. She was a little girl then, mere weeks after she lost her family and had been on the streets with only her new power to keep her alive. She wasn't that little girl anymore.

The Broker merely waved his hand, and the boy's body floated.

"No. Giving a teenager as emotional unguarded as this young fellow is not wise," he answered her question neither with anger nor with condescension. "But I must give out powers until it happens."

She frowned. "Your so called Ragnarok."

The Broker chuckled. "Don't be so glum about it, Falswiat."

"How can I not, sir? You showed me my planet with half of its people gone."

"Then it's a good thing we're working towards preventing that from happening, is it not?" he asked. "And you know as I do that the ascension of every man and woman into a new para-kind increases our odds of successful prevention."

It did, and she knew this.

As part of the Broker's "Company," she had access to resources and information that most people would sell their right hands for.

Names of capes, secrets of long active plots, the truth behind the curtains of the PRT's leadership, and the reason for the existence of superpowers were but a few that the Broker released for his Company's consumption.

What did it speak about the secrets he hadn't told them?

"… Do you trust me, Cerulea?"

She winced. The Broker rarely used her given name when she was working with him.

"I do."

"Do you truly?"

She took a deep breath in.

"… I do, father."

He sighed.

"Good. Good." He then stood up and snapped his fingers. A red portal opened up in front of him. "I'll trust you to keep the Company in order until my return."

She bowed. "Have a good day, sir."

And then he was gone.

She straightened her back, turned around, and made her way back to her own office.

She had a list of volunteers to go through for the Broker's power gifting. Even if the Broker wanted to create as many parahumans as possible for the End War, she wouldn't let anyone unworthy near him.

(She still considered Greg Veder to be unworthy to be one to have been accepted the power of Alexandria, no matter how downgraded or mutilated said power was. Why was Greg Veder worthy of Alexandria's super endurance and toughness?)

But even as she walked away, she wondered father's new wife was doing. The bright and cheery girl always made father happy.

263

Akallas von Aerok

Jul 30, 2018

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Threadmarks 2011.4.9 - Amy Dallon 1

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Jul 30, 2018

#69

Amy Dallon

Brockton General Hospital

"Do I have permission to heal you?"

It was a phrase she uttered at least a hundred times a day, because one hundred was around the average number of patients she treated everyday. She even had a record of it, though she didn't know why.

She was just tir-.

Poof.

Her back straightened and the bags underneath her eyes disappeared, but instead of happiness, Amy only felt annoyance. "Smiles!" she hissed as she whirled around.

Just as she expected, the cape that had come to be known in Brockton Bay as "Smiles" was there, and his hand hovered where her shoulder had been just a moment ago.

Wearing a horribly classic phantom of the opera mask but a Catholic bishop outfit, Smiles was a cape also known for his walking contradiction. He was a healer like Amy, but never respected the rules outlined by the medical community; if he believed that something must be fixed, then he was going to fix it. His power, "Refresh," was extremely good for that.

He also professed that he was a Hindu, which made his costume neither appropriate nor correct, and claimed to hate the Phantom of the Opera, both of which added to his list of contradictions and broken social norms.

"Hallo, Amy!" the ever happy cape chuckled as he waved at her, despite being right in front of her. "How're ya doing today? Not good, I assume, if the bags underneath yer eyes says anything, right?"

She just frowned at him. "You didn't ask for permission to heal. Again."

Smiles shrugged but didn't respond.

"You have to ask."

He just smiled.

She sighed. "Why do you annoy me like this? Everyday?" she asked. No longer burdened by physical tiredness, she had been given a unique brand of fatigue known as Smiles.

"Because you don't smile."

"You don't get to decide for me, Smiles. No one gets to decide for others," she glared at him.

"The government begs to differ."

"This again!?" she finally shouted.

Smiles waved at a pair of children holding the hands of a patient, most likely their mother. He hopped over, and without asking for permission, refreshed the trio with his power.

"Thanks, Smiles!" the twins giggled and skipped away while the mother smiled and nodded. Smiles curtsied, which looked very odd in his bishop outfit, and hopped back to her, which also looked very odd.

"Permission, Smiles."

"Yes, mum."

It's been four hours since Smiles showed up at the hospital, and the sun had set over the horizon a few minutes ago.

Panacea took one of her rare breaks and headed to the rooftop.

Smiles followed her there.

Once they were alone on the rooftop, she glared at him. "Leave me alone," she grumbled.

"No can do, Amy!" Smiles replied cheerfully. "Can't have you doing harmful things without me there to freshen you up, eh?"

She just let out a tired sigh and dug into her pocket. She pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. "You're not going to stop me?"

Smiles stopped smiling.

"If you feel the need to, then who am I to stop you?"

She scoffed. "The man who keeps ignoring me." Even as she said this, she was extremely perturbed by the sudden change in Smiles' expression. She had seen his facial expression change so abruptly once or twice before,

He smiled again. "Bah, the need to say needless stuff like that stem from the demands of a few. I'd rather not waste time giving treatment to people who obviously would want it if they knew about it," he replied.

"It doesn't make it right, Smiles," she chided.

"I'd rather be in the wrong and have saved one more life, Amy," he replied.

She sighed. "Whatever," she muttered. "I don't know how to deal with you." She pushed the cigarette between her lips and lit it. She drew in a deep breath, altering the "symbiotic" bacteria living within her lungs so that they could process the ash and other undesired -.

Smiles' hand was on her shoulder, and with another Poof, she was perfectly fine.

She pulled the cigarette from her mouth and threw it at him. Smiles dodged the throw with a simple flick of his waist, all the while he laughed in obnoxiously.

"Hoi hoi hoi hoi!"

Who the hell laughs like that?

She gave up. She just walked over to the edge of the roof and sat down, leaning on the railing separating her from a twenty story drop.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" she asked again, futilely.

"Because leaving you alone means the same as condemning you," he replied, walking over and sitting in front of her.

"I never asked for you."

"Those who need help but refuse to acknowledge that fact seldom ask for help."

"Don't get philosophical on me."

"Alright."

So for the next thirty minutes, they just sat their on the rooftop, feeling each other's presence and enjoying the winds of New England.

Her phone beeped. It was time for her to get back to work.

When she got home that night, Amy felt … good.

Grammatically, "good" didn't fit into that sentence structure, but it was how she was.

Her body felt light. Her mind felt refreshed.

She grimaced.

And it was all because Smiles refused to not refresh her throughout the entire day.

She had come home in the last month feeling all of this because Smiles had come into her life. She didn't want to go back to the endless tiredness where she … she wondered if she was doing good. She knew that she was doing good now, because Smiles said he wouldn't help a bad person. He was direct like that.

But Smiles' way of approaching her and communicating left her feeling better everyday than she had ever felt. Even Vicky didn't make her feel better like this.

It was …

It wasn't love, she knew that. Not love like how Vicky always talked about with Dean and herself.

It was relief.

Smiles didn't tell her she did good like most people as they were passing by. He didn't ask for autograph or demand healing. He didn't ask for permission, anddidn't listen to her demand to ask for permission.

Yet, he was refreshing in her life.

Perhaps it was because of what people have been saying about her that she realized how much better she felt.

'Oh, you look so much happier today!'

'You don't have any bags underneath your eyes. You definitely look better without them.'

'Hey Amy, you look fabulous right now. Let's go shopping!' That was Vicky.

…

And all of this began because Smiles refused to leave her be, and always told her that she was a good person. A constant presence who reminded her that she did good, does good, and will do good.

It was … a validation she wanted, but no one could give because they didn't understand; they weren't in her position with her responsibilities and her perspective.

Smiles was the closest thing she had as a peer in her healing cape career, and hearing from him, despite the numerous disagreements they had, made her feel…

Better.

271

Akallas von Aerok

Jul 30, 2018

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Threadmarks 2011.4.25 - Rebecca Costa-Brown

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Jul 31, 2018

#84

Rebecca Costa-Brown

Washington D.C.

"Senator Heimstul," she greeted the elderly man with a nod.

The senator, a man who has served the nation as its senator for the last four decades, nodded back in return. "Chief Director Costa-Brown," he replied with a smile. "It's good to see you out and about early in the morning!"

Unlike her, Senator Heimstul was dressed in his running outfit, a tacky purple and white checkered patterened running shorts and nylon shirt. Behind him was his platoon of bodyguards, all of whom were in their own training outfit sans their guns.

At the age of ninety-five, he was the oldest person serving in a public office, and had made a great number of friends and enemies.

She happened to be one of his allies, and this meeting was completely coincidental.

Because she too was in her exercise outfit.

She took up jogging right next to the old senator, who not only kept up with her but did so seemingly effortlessly.

Senator Heimstul was a senator who supported her and the Triumvirate even before the creation of the Parahuman Response Team, and have been one of their biggest proponents in the Congress and in his home state of Ohio.

"I heard that you missed out on Vexa. Again," he chuckled.

Rebecca frowned.

Senator Heimstul was also one of the few individuals outside of Cauldron who knew her other identity as Alexandria.

"Yes. Alexandria was unable to grab Vexa's attention," she replied. But that's not what we are here to talk about."

"No, it isn't," he conceded.

"What can I help you with?"

The two of them stopped by a water fountain. The senator took a sip and she took a sip. After waiting for the bodyguards to get their own sip of water, they began running again.

"I've been wanting to know about the black pot's more recent meeting, specifically what its mother decided about Slaughterhouse Nine."

Rebecca grimaced.

Despite being a willing collaborator of Cauldron, Heimstul was one of the most aggressively meddlesome helpers Cauldron had. It didn't help that one of his grandsons died to Slaughterhouse Nine, which he knew Cauldron was allowing to roam free to better predict the upcoming apocalypse.

"Mother hasn't decided anything on the Nine," she replied. "She's been avoiding me about it, in fact."

Heimstul grunted. "That bitch needs to loosen her asshole a little. There's no point to living life like a scrooge."

"She'd disagree with you."

"Let her. She's not the one who has to watch her grandchildren die trying to be hero."

There was a bit of silence between the two before she spoke up.

"Have you been in contact with the Broker yet?" 'Since that day' was left unsaid.

"Once," he replied. "The bastard came to offer me revenge."

She stopped.

Heimstul stopped a bit in front of her and looked over her shoulder. "I'm obviously still a senator, so I obviously didn't take it. Hurry it up, Brown."

She resumed walking.

"What exactly did he offer you?" he asked.

"Power. Wealth. An army. He considered Hecarim to be one of his finer recruits," he replied. "Losing Hecarim made him very mad, you see."

"I see," she said jerkily.

The Broker was someone everyone in the know looked for with passion. A cape capable of granting powers to others? He was the perfect weapon against Zion!

But alas, he was also one of the three Blindspots that Contessa could not see. Coupled with the fact that he had powers he granted to others close to him that interfered with Contessa's power, finding him was trying.

"I don't think you do," Heimstul replied. "You didn't see him call upon a literal army. I never knew that there were even that many capes in America."

"We have evidences to believe that his reach extends all around the world and few beyond it."

"Of course, he does," he scoffed. "I saw a hundred capes that day, Brown. There were at least four among them who were all comparable to you. He offered me that, Brown. He offered me a literal army to hunt down the bastards who killed my dead grandson." He stopped. He glared at her. "Do you know why I didn't take it?"

She stopped too. She shook her head.

"Because of you and your little dipshit group."

"To bolster Protectorate numbers, so that more people could be saved."

"Yes. That," he hissed. "For the sake of America, I gave up on my revenge even after I saw the uncensored video of how they killed Hecarim."

She looked at him in shock. "There was no camera in the area, how-?"

"No camera you knew about, Brown," he grunted. "But there was one that the Broker got his hands on." He paused. "I'm here to tell you that."

"Just that?"

"Yes, just that. Keep your pet murder-hobos on a leash, or I will take the Broker up on his offer."

She watched the senator leave with his bodyguards.

"He said that?" Doctor Mother asked.

"Yes," Rebecca – now Alexandria – replied. "All of this happened without our knowledge."

Numberman hummed. "This is troublesome," he replied. "Heimstul's chance of helping us in finding the Broker and forcing him into the Protectorate drops to zero if we count this new incident into account."

Eidolon grumbled.

Alexandria looked at David from the corner of her eyes.

Of all members of the Cauldron, he was the most disgruntled about the Broker because the latter managed to gift someone else a downgraded version of Eidolon's power.

Jack-of-all-Trade was now the regional Protectorate leader of Seattle, and possessed influence comparable to the Triumvirate in their cities, despite possessing only two slots instead of Eidolon's three. And he was firmly within the Broker's pockets.

"... Let's continue the meeting. We can revisit the Broker later on," John, always the calm and collected cape and friend known to most as Legend, said.

"Of course, Legend," Doctor Mother said. "How goes our experiment in the west coast?" she asked Alexandria.

"Tagg's methods provide no better improvement to trigger rate in a given population than the Brockton Bay experiment."

"No better or same?"

"No better. Most of the triggers in his area also end up as a villain, which causes greater social instability," Numberman responded in her stead. "The only advantage Tagg's method has over the Brockton Bay experiment is the fact that capes who work under him remain loyal to the Protectorate for a long time."

"What about Brockton Bay itself?"

"Cape feudalism is definitely taking shape under E88 and the ABB. It has the best trigger rate so far from any of our experiments," she replied.

"Is it possible for us to introduce another faction to Brockton Bay?" Doctor Mother asked. "I don't like the fact that our best experiment for natural trigger rate has too big of an impact on social stability."

"Unless you want to talk to the Broker directly..."

"Hmm."

Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown looked over her paperwork she had to complete during her stay at Washington D.C.

Her morning meeting with Senator Heimstul had been negative.

The weekly lunch meeting with Cauldron was inconclusive.

And her paperwork, which she couldn't push onto someone else because of the sensitive materials found within, was not decreasing. She distinctly remembered separating the big pile into two and completing one of the separated piles, but when she looked back at the original pile, it had retained its initial height.

"Chief Director."

She looked from the one foot and three inches high pile of paperwork the door to her Washington D.C. office. Standing at the doorway was her secretary, Jenny Mayde.

"Yes, Jenny?" she asked.

Jenny looked sheepish. "Representative Wu wants to talk with you," she relayed. "I think he wants to talk about the recent loss of that the PRT in his home district."

Rebecca nodded, immediately putting up her "iron guard" expression. She was famous for it, so why not use it to intimidate unimportant representatives? "Send him in," she replied.

Jenny was gone from the doorway, and mere 5 seconds after, Representative Wu was there.

Under normal circumstances, Representative Wu would have been a great ally. Caring of the people, stalwart ally of justice, and a loving father. He was incorruptible… which actually made her job harder.

"Chief Director Costa-Brown," he greeted.

She stood up and nodded respectfully. "Representative Wu. Have a seat," she said, gesturing to the seat across from her desk. Wu took the seat briskly, and then waited patiently for her to ask.

And ask she did.

"What brings you here today?" she asked.

"Tagg."

Rebecca wanted to groan. She really did. Tagg was a miserable piece of shit who'd done more damage to the PRT than uphold its values. If it wasn't for the fact that-

…

If it wasn't for a fact … that is no longer true.

Cauldron had kept him in position so far because he was the subject of their PRT-generated natural trigger events. No one else was as ruthless to non-heroic parahumans as Tagg was, but mere hours ago during Cauldron's weekly meeting, Tagg had been written off.

…

Rebecca smiled and reassured the representative that she would make sure that Tagg would get the punishment he justly deserved for terrorizing Wu's home district and state. Though Tagg was a good leader to the men and women serving under him, he could be less than approachable, even daunting, to approach for the civilians.

A just punishment for Tagg? She could think of a few involving PR campaigns...

Last edited: Aug 1, 2018

258

Akallas von Aerok

Jul 31, 2018

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Threadmarks 2011.6.9 - Brian Laborn

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Aug 7, 2018

#102

Grue

Brockton Bay

While everyone knew that it was possible, it just didn't seem to register as reality until reality slaps them in the face.

For one Brian Laborn, this was no different. He was a man, a young man but a man who had taken his fate into his own hands, and he had a sister to take care of. Instead of immediately taking action, he pondered. If there was one thing his dad taught him not by his words but by the results of his action, then it was that action without thought or plans always brought heavy consequences. His family situation was one such result.

So instead of jumping into the cape scene, he thought and researched.

He wanted to rescue his younger sister from the terrible home life of their mother, and as an adult, he needed power to make that happen. Initially, he had wanted to become a villain and gather as much money as he needed to hire a lawyer and get his younger sister out of her position through that. Unfortunately, he realized that this plan was neither foolproof nor smart.

Why? Because someone would ask how a minimum wage worker got enough money to hire a lawyer for a process that was at least a year long. If people started asking that, then the IRS would start asking him about his income. If that happened, then he may as well say goodbye to gaining custody of his sister.

Yeah, it wasn't going to cut it.

Running away with his sister was also a no-go.

So what did that leave? Finding legal help?

…

Well, he could.

And so he did.

Instead of going to a lawyer, he approached his dad.

Oh, he didn't like the man. The relationship between him and his father was a rough one. While he didn't blame the man for breaking up the family, he did not appreciate his inability to help Aisha.

His dad let him into the house and listened. He sighed as soon as the story was over before telling Brian exactly this.

"The government takes care of its dogs."

And so, Brian went to the only place where he would be wanted and kept: the Protectorate.

A long arduous week later, he was accepted into the Protectorate, and they got the court to hand over custody from an obviously irresponsible and drug addict guardian to a man serving his nation as one of its heroes.

Life was …

It was hard. Being a hero did not mean that he was going to have life easy. If being a hero meant anything, then it actually meant that he had his life tougher than many. The understaffed and overworked Protectorate put him to work immediately. To relieve the burdens of the older generation of heroes, they put him to work far longer than a new hire should be, but this granted the veterans more time to rest and train. Because he didn't have experience leading, they cut into his free hours to make sure that he was capable of doing so. He didn't complain, because he knew that he was joining what was essentially a military organization, and he knew how to live under such a circumstance.

And because he was a new hero, the Protectorate put him out there in the field as soon as they realized that he had the basics of martial arts covered.

But for all of the work he did, he was satisfied. He had rescued Aisha from the clutches of their addict of a mother and her rotating retinue of boyfriends. He had a well paying job. He was respected.

Unfortunately, not everything could last forever.

He was in the middle of fighting with Undaunted, a new member of the Elite of the Brockton Bay branch, when it rang.

The Endbringer Sirens.

Both of them paused and listened.

Once. Twice. Thrice. Pause.

Once. Twice. Thrice. Pause.

Once. Twice. Thrice. Pause.

And Brian's stomach dropped.

3 bell tolls in three successions.

Leviathan.

He looked at Undaunted, and backed off when he did.

"We'll have to finish this later," he said.

Brian nodded as Grue, a persona that he adopted who spoke only when he needed to.

{Grue, this is Armsmaster.}

"This is Grue. Undaunted backed off."

{Acknowledged. Head over to the PRT headquarter."

"Affirmative."

An Endbringer battle.

Grue tried to calm himself. He pulled out his personal phone. Today was a Thursday and the time was 12:19 pm. Aisha should be at school, but he didn't trust her to stay there if he wasn't watching. She was too free to be "allow" herself to be kept at school.

He called her.

{Brian!} the panicked voice of his sister came through almost immediately.

He looked around, making sure no one was within hearing range. "Aisha, I'm going to go fight."

{You can't! You'll die!}

"Then what else am I to do? Run?"

{Exactly!}

"… Aisha, they helped me when they needed me. I can't abandon them now."

{But you aren't even a Brute! You'll die from the waves alone!}

"Which is why I'll probably be assigned to search and rescue. I'll be safe."

He was wrong. He was man enough to admit that he was wrong when he was wrong.

Because mere three hours into the fight, he lay bleeding on the ground.

He had jumped and ran as much as he needed to. He found people, provided first aid, and marked them to be picked up by Movers.

He rescued thirty-seven people when it happened.

Leviathan came within half a block range.

Brian had seen pictures and videos about the second Endbringer. It was fist-clenchingly terrible watching people die on screen.

It was bone-shakingly horrifying closeup.

(The fact that the Triumvirate, Lung, Vexa, Menja, Fenja, and Kaiser were all engaging the monstrosity didn't even register.)

He just hurled the cape he had providing first aid to on his shoulder and just booked it.

Didn't make one block before Leviathan's tidal wave swept in and smashed into him. He lost the Irish cape and got slammed into the side of a building.

And then got impaled through his stomach by a telephone post.

When he woke up, he found himself hooked up to three different machines. Apparently, Leviathan was drive away fairly quickly and the rude healer, one named Smiles, had found him. Smiles managed to bring him to Panacea in time to save him. From what he heard, Smiles overexerted his power trying to keep him alive. He swore that he would properly thank the man one day.

Except… Smiles didn't make it. The man brought three capes to the medical tent and died from blood loss.

The next news wasn't as happy as his own survival. From the roster of Brockton Bay's own heroes, Miss Militia (Protectorate), Gallant (Protectorate), Clockblocker (Protectorate), Triumph (Protectorate), Velocity (Protectorate), Browbeat (Protectorate), Brandish (New Wave), Janissary (Independent), and Smiles (Independent) died fighting Leviathan.

Death of Smiles was especially hard for everyone. Though the man was sometimes too playful to be around, he was one of their only two healers in all of New England.

For Grue though, it was the death of Miss Militia that struck the hardest. She was his mentor in the Protectorate. She always helped him when he needed it, and even took over shifts when he was running on fumes. She was the kindest coworker he had, and now she was dead.

Later that day, he heard that Aisha was alive but not well. She thought he had died and triggered as a result.

256

Akallas von Aerok

Aug 7, 2018

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Threadmarks 2011.6.9 - The Broker 1 / Amy Dallon 2

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Aug 9, 2018

#117

The Broker

The Broker's Land

"It's done," Cerulea reported. "Smiles is dead."

I sighed. "Did you at least make a quick death?" I asked her. "His death was only necessary because of how deeply and easily it will affect Panacea."

"As per your instruction, I had to make it look as if he suffered his death at the hands of Leviathan. As such, I had to make it as naturally as possible for people to die in Endbringer fights. Because Smiles had foolishly opted to join the Search and Rescue operation rather than stay in the back, all I had to do was ensure that he would go look for people to rescue very close to Leviathan itself. In the process, I launched several debris at him just as Leviathan's wave crashed upon him, punching holes through his lungs and minor arteries."

"And since he is Manton Limited to himself, he couldn't heal himself at all, bleeding to death," I grunted. "Not exactly how I wanted one of my own to die, but I guess this was unavoidable."

Then Cerulea looked at me uncomfortably. "Father, I … can I ask why Smiles had to die?" she asked.

I looked at her for a second before nodding.

"Okay. Do you want the short version or the long version?"

"The long one. We have time in this place."

"Indeed, we do. Okay then, let's start with our purpose: why do we exist?"

"To stop Scion's eventual rampage."

"Yes, and how do we achieve that?"

"By making as many parahumans as possible."

"Yes. But what happens if I make too much, too fast?"

"You told me that Scion had a 38% chance of detecting the significant rise of parahuman population as an abnormality and go out to search the cause of the anomaly."

I nodded.

"Which means that if we are to fight him, then we either have to play the long game or drastically increase output of parahuman production without adversely affecting the society."

"But you already told me that we might have at most two or three years, father."

"Yes, and that is why the long game is unachievable. This only leaves one option."

"Make a lot of parahumans in very short time."

"Yes. Unfortunately, there is only so much I can do, and not all of the powers I hand out to people are great. In fact, most of the parahumans I've made so far are no more than cannon fodders," I said unhappily. "The required parahumans have yet to shown up or use their powers in front of me beyond a few."

"But what does this have to do with Panacea?" she asked.

"Panacea … as she is, she can be nothing more than the medic. Because her powers are internal rather than external, there is no way for me make a copy of her power because there isn't even a physical phenomenon associated with her power usage."

"And?"

"To accomplish the second method of exterminating Scion, I need someone who can drastically upgrade parahumans as I make them."

"But she's a biokinetic, or so you've told me."

"Yes. A biokinetic who's been limiting herself. A biokinetic who has the potential to alter corona pollentia," I replied. "But what if someone were to approach her in her time of grief and told her that she could do more than what she did now? That if she truly wanted, she could bring Smiles back to life?"

"… You're talking about resurrection."

"Eh..." I muttered. "Resurrection is too heavy of a term. In the hypothetical situation that I'm going to make sure it happens, the correct name for the process would be imprint cloning."

Cerulea didn't say anything for a while. Then she seemed to get it.

"You want her to loosen up her morals and limitations."

"And my good daughter gets it," I replied with a smile as I took off my mask. "In essence, I intend to force her to second trigger."

Cerulea flinched. "But can't you harvest her shard like you said you could?" she asked. "You said that you copied Eidolon's power and one of the powers he had was the ability to harvest shards."

I shook my head. "He's able to harvest other shards for their energy, not the shard's function itself. Even if his shard could, I can't even access half of the shards that he has, and I can't copy any of them, because the effects are shown through Eidolon copy and not the shards themselves. There's no communication between my shard and the other shards that are being active through Eidolon copy." I sighed. "It's really frustrating, because my copy is actually dependent on his original."

"Huh. So you aren't omnipotent."

I glared at my adopted eldest daughter. "I can still kick your ass, young lady."

"… So what do you intend to do now?" she asked.

"Now?" I repeated as I stood up from my chair. "It's time I visit Amy."

Amy Dallon

The world felt colder already.

She was in the middle of operating when the call came in.

She almost stopped working right there and then, but she didn't. He wouldn't want that. So she persevered and finished the job. And the next. And the next. And the next.

As soon as all of the severe cases ran out, she too ran out of the medical tents. She came upon the rows of bodies of the dead capes.

And she found his.

She saw his body covered in the white cloth that all of the dead bodies were covered with.

At first, she didn't want to believe it, but then reality crashed in when the cape attending to the dead led her there and lifted the cloth just to reveal the blood splattered mask.

She stared.

She stared.

Someone tried to shake her away but she pushed them aside and fell to her knees.

Her chest constricted like one of Vicky's hugs, but it didn't feel good. Breathing came harder and shallower.

"Ah-" she uttered, not even realizing that she did. Her vision became blurrier and she felt tears rush down her cheeks from her eyes. "Ah-!"

Her hands reached out and grabbed at Smiles, only reaching the clothes covering him instead. They clenched and pulled just a bit as she crumbled forward.

She began to cry.

"Miss Dallon."

Amy lifted her head up, revealing a puffy face with red eyes and tear streaks running down in multiple channels. She looked around with her blurry vision until she caught sight of a man looking down at her. She blinked and then rubbed at her eyes.

It was in the middle of the night, she realized, which means that she'd spent at least several hours by … his side.

Her heart lurched and the feeling returned.

"So that's how you express your grief," the man said. "No different from anyone else."

Her attention sharpened and she glared at him. With her eyes adjusted to the dark, she saw who this person was. Immaculately dressed in a form-fitting business suit and red-marked white masked, this cape was someone she didn't know. The closest description of the cape she could put into place was Accord, but why would Accord talk to her? He was also in Boston, and probably wouldn't come up to Brockton Bay right after an Endbringer hit the city.

"Who are you?" she asked grouchily.

He bowed slightly. "I am the Broker. It's a pleasure to meet you."

She scoffed, letting her eyes drift away back to Smiles. "Me or Panacea?" she muttered.

"You, of course. Panacea would never grieve; she would move on with her healing to the next person, because that is what the world expects of you."

She stilled. She looked back up to him. Why? Because the phrase he just uttered was very close to what someone else had said when they first met her.

"You recognize what I've said, no?"

The feeling that pushed her down until now mutated and became a horrific rage. She shot up from where she'd been sitting. "What do you want with me?!" she shouted.

"Not very much, I assure you," he replied as he reached into his business suit. She stilled, ready to bolt. He slowly pulled out an envelope. "His will, if you will."

She frowned. "What?"

"The will of the cape you knew as Smiles."

She froze and stared at the envelope.

"Of course, he doesn't have any family member who can open it. All of them died in Leviathan's attack on Seattle. I suppose it's one of the reasons why he was so keen on being out there in the battle, rescuing as much people as he could," the Broker said. "But he did say that one known as 'Amy Dallon' was allowed to open his will." He extended it to her. "Miss Dallon, would you like to open the will of Smiles?"

She stared at the envelope for a second before looking back up. "W-Why did he make m-me the one?" she asked stuttered, not really knowing the correct words for everything and the emotions suddenly changing again to grief being too much on her.

"… I believe his own words was thus: 'that girl needs it.'"

She snatched the envelope from his hand and ripped it open, revealing a simple lined paper. It was written by hand with a pencil.

"'To my friends and family,'" she began.

To my friends and family,

I'm not sure who's going to read my will. I mean, I am a cape, which means that I am bound to die sooner than your average person. That said, I left a list of individuals who are allowed to open my will to a dear friend of mine. His name is the Broker, and he was the one responsible for making me who I am today.

First, all of my non-financial possessions go to my little sister. Last I checked, she lives in Los Angelos after Leviathan struck our home in Seattle. Her name is Melody Tripoliska, and she lives with her boyfriend. Tell her I love her.

Second, all of my financial possession aka my moneys and grubs and stocks and blings should be liquidated and donated to the charity most associated with my untimely death. If I just die in a random explosion, then donate it to Brockton General Hospital. They kind of need it, even with Amy doing some heavy lifting for them.

And speaking of, the last point of this will, a word to Amy Dallon otherwise known to the world as Panacea.

I want anyone who reads this will to tell her this after a hug.

"Be happy. Be strong. You are beloved by many. Don't waste your life away in a single hospital. Do what you want, not what is expected of you. And lastly, please Smile for me, Amy. Frowns don't look good on you."

Thanks to anyone who arrive at my funeral. As long as my head is intact, please don't make my funeral a close casket one. Those suck.

Sincerely,

Johnathan "Smiles" Tripoliska

"How sad."

Amy looked back up, her eyes once again brimming with tears.

"Even though he is friends with someone capable of resurrecting a human being, he doesn't ask for it," the Broker tutted. "Perhaps it's because he doesn't believe you consider him to be worth it?"

Rage.

Unbidden rage roared from within her.

"AGGHH-!" she shouted and reached forth-.

Only for her hand to touch Smiles' dead and standing body, held up by the Broker.

"His body is right there and yet she refuses to heal him. The person he devoted an entire day writing that small part of the will to won't even try," he said mockingly. He jostled the dead body, and Amy flinched, just staring at Smiles' bloodied mask. "He put his faith in the wrong place."

And then speared his hand through the dead body's heart. Amy froze.

The Broker mercilessly pulled back, pulling the heart out and dropping the body without a care.

"Did you know that he loved you?" the Broker asked. "He knew that you weren't interested in anything. Had an idea that you were too engrossed in your role either out of guilt or duty. Care, love… those didn't have a place in your life, he thought, because he believed that you might not return his love. A sad sad man."

And then, he crushed Smiles' heart.

Amy's vision swam.

Visions of two twisting worms in the heavens.

An agreement.

An alteration.

When her eyes shot open, she was laying next to Smiles' undamaged body.

She stood up and whirled around, surprising people around her.

It was still day.

'How-?'

Then, she saw something flutter down. It was a piece of paper. She snatched it out of the air. Its edge was burnt. Words were written on it.

'Do what you want, not what is expected of you.'

His will.

It was his will.

Someone burnt his will.

And then she remembered something.

Friends with someone capable of resurrecting a human being, he doesn't ask for it. Perhaps it's because he doesn't believe you consider him to be worth it?

Amy looked down at Smiles' body even as people came up to her to ask what was wrong.

"No," she muttered to himself.

He's worth it.

And now we see why Smiles had to die.

It was to bring an angel down from the heavens.

Last edited: Aug 9, 2018

259

Akallas von Aerok

Aug 9, 2018

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Threadmarks 1992.11.25 - The Broker: Making the Plan

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Aug 10, 2018

#155

David "No Name"

I've been thinking.

So far, I've been in Earth Bet for five years now. Five years was a lot of time to think for someone who knew the future of this world. I didn't quite have access to internet or anything that useful. Libraries were good up to a certain point when it came to data collection; not all data in the local libraries were up to date.

What I have been thinking about was how I was going to defeat Scion.

The thing is, I'm a coward. I'd rather run than fight. I wouldn't watch people get hurt in front of me, but if it was out of sight, then it was out of my mind. I wouldn't go after people for hurting others either.

Oh, I'm sure that my mindset was going to change. Earth Bet had that kind of effect on all Self-Inserts.

The problem then was this: how?

How was the hell was I going to defeat a literal god? From what I remember, Scion had to resort to psychological attacks on Eidolon because Eidolon posed that much of a threat to him, and this was after said golden boy used his own life force to fuel his own Path to Victory to make that attack.

Sure, I took Regeneration: Second Trigger and Blindspot, which made me hard to predict and even harder to kill. Sure, I've been attending a lot of Endbringer fights, going about and making copies from everyone who bothered to show up (thank you, Allfather! Thanks to you, I make a living just selling pure iron bars) but there was no way I was going to have enough power to solo Scion. No way in hell.

So what could I do?

Obviously because of both stated and unstated reasons, soloing Scion was unfeasible. Not impossible, but definitely not in my reach.

Thanks to what my Abaddon shard did for my Unlimited Shard Works, I can bud off degraded copies of shard copies I made and force a trigger, and that was the limit. I couldn't mass-trigger people either; each shard had 5 day cooldown, and in the next budding process, the degraded power changed.

For example, I gave this hobo bum a degraded copy of Allfather's [Spontaneous Ferropariokinesis]. Said hobo now runs around in Los Angelos making melee weapons and melee weapons only. Then a week later, I gave this lovely little girl another degraded copy, only for it to be changed again. I mean, the girl gained a Changer power that gave her literal iron body.

I didn't want to test with the already degraded copy of Eidolon's "Keter." I'm calling that shard Keter because I remember fondly reading a fanfiction that called Eidolon's shard Keter. Iron something.

So no, the plan I've made three years ago was not going to cut it. I just didn't meet enough new capes alternating my living between Boston, Brockton Bay, and New York City, the three most heavily parahuman populated cities in North American East Coast. Without going to Endbringer fights, I'd get maybe four more copies. In all of my five years of constant nomadic life, I gained exactly two useful copies.

Right, my first plan was to join Cauldron. Sufficed to say, I was considered a "Trump-Stranger" and thus not useful to their "goals." They even tried to kill me to prevent myself from interfering in Contessa's Path to Victory.

Fucking jerks. Good thing I had a physical clone, another part I napped, do the actual talking. As far as Cauldron was concerned, the Trump-Stranger who countered Contessa was dead.

My second plan was to mass seed shards after gaining a Master power like Heartbreaker's and throw a literal parahuman army at Scion. Due to a lack of finding a Master or even a Tinker power that let me do Heartbreaking, the plan sat uselessly in my head. Also because of the fact that I was incapable of both ensuring the Scion didn't see me coming and keeping that big of a parahuman army a secret.

The current plan, which I now knew to be futile, was to gain powers in Endbringer fights and solo Scion. That got scrapped after I realized just how weak I was compared to an Endbringer. I wasn't strong enough, yet. And if I wasn't strong enough, then how would I even touch Scion?

It's been three fucking years since I've come up with that plan. I'm barely stronger than any two members of the Triumvirate (plus Hero) combined. Sure, by cape standards, I was pretty up there.

That said, Endbringers are still stronger than me. Until Flechette triggers (or I force the girl to trigger by any means necessary) and I make a copy of her "Sting," it would remain that way.

So where did that leave me?

I haven't tried mixing all of those plans together.

… It … had potential. The three Thinkers powers I managed to copy -because they had a physical expression of their power that I could copy- told me that of the combinations of plans I've made before, the combination of them all was the best way to achieve victory.

Well, first plan was to join Cauldron, but Cauldron won't let me join.

…

So I'll have to be my own Cauldron?

Hmm, I'll have to think on that.

Second plan was to Heartbreak an entire parahuman army. I cannot make enough parahumans nor do I wish to make the world my enemy by Heartbreaking the participants of the Endbringer battles. Oh, and I don't have a power like that yet.

Third plan was to fight Scion solo.

… But if I combined second and third, I would get "lead a parahuman army against Scion with me at the vanguard." If I combine that with the first plan, then I get "secretly produce parahumans who owe you favors and then when the time is right – or forced upon me – lead them to battle with me at the vanguard."

Well.

I mean. It's what Cauldron was doing, but it's such a slow process between making useful parahumans and ensuring I had a hold over them. I didn't even have co-conspirators for me to bounce off ideas off of!

Argh.

... I really need that Master power to get a third of the job done.

Ah, whatever. Fuck it. I'll think more when I'm on the road.

So. New York City or Brockton Bay next week?

198

Akallas von Aerok

Aug 10, 2018

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Threadmarks PHO Interlude 1

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Aug 13, 2018

#166

Welcome to the Parahumans Online Message Boards

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Topic: Panacea Second Triggered?!

In: Boards ► North America ► New England ► Brockton Bay

SaintSaya (Original Poster)

Posted on June 11, 2011:

Okay...

Before I begin this, I'd like for everyone to pray for the people who have been at Brockton Bay. For those of you who have yet to catch up, Brockton Bay has been hit by Leviathan. Yes, while Vexa-Triumvirate combo have been able to push the scaly bastard away in record time, it wasn't without casualties.

This is where this ... comes in.

One of those casualties was Smiles, one of the very rare healing capes. Healing independent capes! He was also very close to Panacea. So close, in fact, that when Panacea saw his dead body, she second-triggered.

And then ... she proceeded to resurrect him. Legit brought a person back to life.

Uh... HOLY SHIT.

Bagrat (The Guy in the Know)

Posted on June 11, 2011:

Yeah, holy shit.

But the thing was, it apparently had something else to it. According to my sources, Panacea didn't have your typical second trigger, in which every cape around her collapse with her. Instead, she just collapsed by herself in front of Smiles' body, and woke up. She then caught something out of the air, looked at Smiles, reached down, and resurrected him.

This … actually doesn't look like a second trigger to me. Narwhal's second trigger is very well documented.

What if … Panacea could have always done this?

SaintSaya I don't know who you are. I don't know where you are. But I will find you. And congratulate you on getting this info out before me.

Terminati (Veteran Member)

Posted on June 11, 2011:

Holy shit! Panacea could resurrect people now?! OP PLZ NERF

AllSeeingEye

Posted on June 11, 2011:

Panacea didn't have the ability to resurrect people prior to Smiles' death. Something changed. She definitely second triggered.

Winged_One

Posted on June 11, 2011:

The Blank touched Panacea.

Bagrat (The Guy in the Know)

Posted on June 11, 2011:

AllSeeingEye If she second triggered, then there has to be a trigger event. Trigger event didn't happen.

WagTheDog (At Ground Zero: Brockton Bay)

Posted on June 11, 2011:

Is that what the commotion was about? Because when I got out of the PRT headquarter Endbringer shelter, the entire cape there were shouting and clammering.

TheGrammarRoyalist GrammarNazi Convert)

Posted on June 11, 2011:

*clamoring

Bruce Lao (Brockton Bay Refugee)

Posted on June 11, 2011:

Wait, so what's Panacea's new clasisfication now? Striker: Yes?

TheGrammarRoyalist (GrammarNazi Convert)

Posted on June 11, 2011:

*Striker: Jesus

Viewing [1] 2 3 … 9 10 11

TabulaRosa

Posted on June 11, 2011:

Can we all please take this seriously? Panacea being able to resurrect people changes everything. Hell, it changes the entire cape dynamic in New England.

There is a blood storm coming to New England. Mark my words.

User received an infraction: Don't fearmonger -Tin_Mother

Bagrat (The Guy in the Know)

Posted on June 11, 2011:

TabulaRosa why do you say that?

TabulaRosa

Posted on June 11, 2011:

Because resurrection means that the Protectorate and the PRT no longer have to worry at all about civilian or their own casualties. They can just blitz an entire city if they feel the need to and leave the clean up to Panacea.

Glory_Girl (New Wave) (Verified Cape)

Posted on June 12, 2011:

My sister is not the PRT or the Protectorate clean-up crew! I am not letting that happen! She has her own life, for god's sake! She just got her boy back to make her happy!

SpecificProtagonist

Posted on June 12, 2011:

Smiles-Panacea OTP

Terminati

Posted on June 12, 2011:

Smiles-Panacea OTP

Glory_Girl (New Wave)(Verified Cape)

Posted on June 12, 2011:

Smiles-Panacea OTP

Tin_Mother (Queen Moderator)

Posted on June 12, 2011:

Take the pairing to pairing thread. This thread is about Panacea and her possible second trigger.

My condolence to New Wave about Panacea's possible second trigger.

XxVoid_CowboyxX (Verified Idiot)

Posted on June 12, 2011:

The Tyrant Modher returns!

User has received an infraction: I really do not like that name, Cowboy. Drop it -Tin_Mother

Jababababa

Posted on June 12, 2011:

Do we have any other detail about her new powerset, though? I mean, how did she resurrect him?

Bagrat (The Guy in the Know)

Posted on June 12, 2011:

Both Panacea and Smiles are in Master/Stranger Protocol, so we won't be able to get details about this from anywhere … for now. Any Thinkers out there who want to drop us some hints?

RainbowDoggoLegion (Verified Cape)

Posted on June 12, 2011:

I'm going to have to agree with the Winged_One on this.

Whoever Winged_One is calling "the Blank," its presence in the city prevents Thinkers from getting any useful information. This is all I can get, so bare with me:

1. "Divining" Panacea is outright impossible.

2. Further away from Panacea, Smiles, and few others in the city I try to get information from, the easier and more detailed the information becomes.

3. "The Blank" has affected not just Brockton Bay but pockets all over the USA and outside of USA, including but not limited to: Austin, Washington D.C., Seattle, New York, Los Angelos, London, Paris, Frankfurt (but not Berlin), Naples, Istabul, etc etc etc.

4. Please remember that Queensberg was the last verified cape to go after the Blank and we haven't heard from him yet.

User has received an infraction: I told people to not fearmonger. Every user after this infraction will receive a 24 hour ban.

Viewing 1 [2] 3 4 … 11 12 13

Bagrat (The Guy in the Know)

Posted on June 12, 2011:

Please move all conversation about this "Blank" to a new thread -Tin_Mother

SaintSaya (Original Poster)

Posted on June 12, 2011:

Will Hero come back to life? I remember him still.

SpecificProtagonist

Posted on June 12, 2011:

Is this the return of the Original Protectorate? Holy shit holy shit holy shit!

Bruce Lao (Brockton Bay Refugee)

Posted on June 12, 2011:

Unlikely.

Bagrat (The Guy in the Know)

Posted on June 12, 2011:

What makes you say that Bruce Lao?

RainbowDoggoLegion (Verified Cape)

Posted on June 12, 2011:

Panacea is a healer… which I am guessing was a utilization of her striker power. I'm going to make a guess and say that it's biokinesis. It's the only power that fits the bill. See this [VIDEO]. I blurred out all of the faces there without masks so be at ease. See 2:15. Smiles' body is lurching as Panacea is "working" on him. Only reason a body would lurch is if it received outside force or internal force caused it to.

Yes, I am aware that there a lot of capes there, but only Panacea is working.

If Panacea is truly a biokinetic, then Hero's resurrection is impossible because the man has been buried already, and very likely embalmed.

Bruce Lao (Brockton Bay Refugee)

Posted on June 12, 2011:

Ninja'ed by RDL. But I have different theory.

Panacea had to have a Thinekr aspect of her power. How else is she to understand how every kink and corner of biology works without having graduated with a Master's degree in Human Biology? What if her second trigger allowed her to take a "snapshot" of all previous people she healed and she more or less copy-pasted that snapshot unto Smiles' dead body?

AKA resurrection via cloning.

But if this method is true, then Panacea would have needed a snapshot of Hero before his death, but Panacea wasn't a cape when Hero died.

(Verified Professor)

Posted on June 12, 2011:

Bruce Lao 's explanation seems more likely. While capes could and often do alter and change physical laws and expectations, there is also a trend where need certain information before their powers can act on it. Taking this into account, Panacea's Thinker power is very likely to exist, and she did indeed second trigger, "recalling" information would be a piece of cake. I know my few Thinker students do it.

TheGrammerRoyalist (GrammerNazi Convert)

Posted on June 12, 2011:

Bruce Lao *Thinker

Bruce Lao (Brockton Bay Refugee)

Posted on June 12, 2011:

TheGrammerRoyalist

You're sentence has no verb. You lose.

Viewing 1 2 [3] 4 5 … 18 19 20

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Akallas von Aerok

Aug 13, 2018

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Threadmarks 2011.6.16 - Kevin Wu, father of a dragon

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Aug 15, 2018

#177

So this is the chapter I came to write after rewriting for the third time. Tell me what you think about it.

Doctor Kevin Wu

Brockton General Hospital

Life was harsh.

This was doubly true on Earth Bet, which had Endbringers and thirteen times the more parahuman population than Earth Aleph, than anywhere else.

For a doctor, life was tiring. Due to the endless fights between the parahumans, their minions, and the authority, innocent people always suffered as a result.

As an immigrant from China before the glorious People's Republic became CUI, Kevin Wu was aware of how America had it good compared to everywhere else in the world. He was actually very vocal about this to his patients - those who would listen – and most of them didn't get it, even the ones who lived in slums.

Kevin remembered when he was only a young man in the mid 80's. He remembered parahumans usurping the rightful government's control over bits of China. His older sister was taken away; he hasn't seen her since then and he didn't believe that she was alive anymore. His young brother was gone from their house when he came back one day from work. The kicked in door told him everything he needed to know. His father was murdered because he spoke out against the local parahuman warlord in Qinzhou. His father was a police officer. His mother …

Less said about that woman, the better.

He fled China to Japan and met his wife.

He still wondered how America was able to coordinate and keep electricity in the hospitals when there were gangs fighting all of the time. In China, hospitals were the first to be targeted. This was not the case in America. He didn't understand, though, when he first came to America.

It wasn't until he was halfway through his doctorate program that he learned why.

As much as hospitals were juicy targets for gangs, the Protectorate and the PRT had a very serious stance.

In other words, if any gang decided to hit any health facilities that governments endorsed or funded, then the Protectorate and the PRT threw the kiddie gloves away and went for lethal kills.

Doctor Wu didn't understand why they didn't do that right off the bat, because they ha-.

… He shouldn't assume things. From what he heard, America -despite its outward stability – was straining itself to keep peace. Just like how he didn't understand the sanctity of American hospitals that the government actually enforced, he accepted that he needed some more information and time to learn all of the nooks and crannies of the complex American system.

Well… except for the newest event.

Panacea and her newfound ability to resurrect people.

He understood exactly what that meant.

The breakdown of order.

Resurrection … it was too big of a prize. Villains and even rogues might start assaulting this hospital. He … knew of a way. He knew someone who can help protect this hospital – his hospital where he poured almost a decade of his life into – but it would mean that he would finally be giving into accepting something he had sworn not to.

But he had also sworn to help people however he could. He took a personal oath upon taking up his first job – and now that he thought about it, he still held that job to this day -, he swore that he would not allow himself to be involved with parahuman gangs.

"I guess everything ends, no?" he muttered to himself. "Even my own promises."

"Doctor Wu, you're done for the day?" a passing nurse asked.

Wu smiled. "Yes, Ms. Wills. I have a family to see today," he replied.

Nurse Wills looked surprised. The pretty blonde – someone who should be anywhere but here in Brockton Bay – blinked prettily out of surprise. "You have family, Doctor Wu?" she asked. And then she gasped and held a hand to her mouth after realizing her faux pas.

Instead of being offended, Wu laughed.

"Don't worry, Ms. Wills. I know it comes as a surprise. I do spend way too much time at the hospital," he replied. And it was true. He wasn't offended. His wife had died long ago. There was nothing to be offended at.

"Sorry, sir!" she squeaked and hurried on her way.

On his way out of the hospital, Wu met four more nurses and hospital staff who reacted exactly as Nurse Wills.

He just laughed it off.

He drove his 2004 Ford Crown Victoria towards his home at the edge of Downtown. Many people were surprised that he didn't change his car like a girl changes her socks. It was what most doctors did, they said.

Wu was not most doctor. He had more important things than derived image from material goods. Such a thing was … too shallow for his taste. Power and wealth derived not from what one can see, but how much one can influence.

He stopped at a red light. A homeless man quickly ran out from the street to beg to the people in the cars. For some reason, Wu's car was avoided. He rolled down his window and gestured for the begging homeless to come to him and not bother the people behind him. He pulled out a $20 bill and gave it to the homeless woman with a smile.

Wu knew that out of the five homeless he encountered, four of them would spend the good money he gave them in drugs and other vices, but he gave regardless. Why? Because justification against alms does not mean that he shouldn't be doing what he can to help others. Though he knew that most would waste his charity, he hoped that the ones who did get his little help would hang on to life for longer as they struggled to reach a better place.

The light turned green, and he rolled away on the road towards his home.

Once he reached his home, he took off his sweaty button-up shirt and changed it for something more comfortable. In his empty home where only his bedroom was alive and lived in, he reached into the drawers and pulled out a t-shirt. He put it on, ignoring the fact that his pot belly was growing.

Then he walked out, got back into his car, and drove forth again.

He still remembered the first time his eldest son invited him to see his group; he wanted his father to see what he had achieved with parahuman might. It was a semi-juvenile attempt at impressing someone who they each thought lost. When Leviathan struck and sank Kyushu, their family had been separated and neither were capable of reaching the other. Wu thought his wife and son had died; they thought he had died.

Instead of being proud of bringing a semblance of peace to the streets, Wu had become enraged by what he saw. His eldest had done the exactly same thing – allowed the exact same thing – that broke Wu's family apart. He verbally lashed out at his son, left, and they hadn't talked since then.

He wondered how his son would respond to him coming to him for help.

He pulled up to an establishment. A simple ramen restaurant like the one that his wife's parents ran back in the day. His eldest son was always fond of his maternal grandparents.

He knocked on the backdoor.

There was a pause.

Then the door opened.

A tall, black haired man in his late 20's appeared at the door, complete with a ramen chef outfit.

He stared at him for a second before his eyes widened. "Otou-san," he asked with surprise in his voice.

He tried to smile for his son who had become a parahuman warlord. "Hello, Kenta," he replied. "May I come in? I'd like to talk."

To protect Brockton General Hospital and Panacea, he would cast aside his past grievances against parahuman villains and make peace with his own son. He wondered if his sister and brother would forgive him for this.

The next day, the world watched in shock as Lung, the gang leader of Brockton Bay's Azn Bad Boyz, declared that Panacea and Brockton General Hospital was under his protection and that anyone who dared to coerce or attack Panacea would have to face him.

A/N: So I'm changing Lung's age here a bit. In canon, he's in his 30's. This could be anywhere from 31 to 39. I'm changing it to 29 to fit this story's timeline/details.

Kevin Wu: 54

Kenta "Lung" Mushiya: 29

Kenta when he triggered: 16

Kenta when Leviathan attacked Kyushu: 17Gesellschaft Headquarter

Europe

"Resurrection?"

"Yes. It seems that the one known as Panacea has second-triggered. She is now capable of resurrection, though the how eludes us still."

"An asset we can steal from the Americans?"

"No. She is protected."

"By whom? The weak and incompetent Protectorate?"

"No, the Broker."

"… Ah, she must be one of his projects."

"I would assume so. Take the one Panacea resurrected, for example. Our intelligence department had long ago confirmed that he was one of the Broker's."

"Infiltration and seduction?"

"Unlikely. By all accounts, Smiles didn't do seduction; the boy was too blunt. It is likely that he was sent to 'help' her."

Others in the room laughed.

"The Broker? Help someone? The idea is ridiculous. That cold-hearted son of a bitch killed his own friend to get to our former leader."

The mood turned somber as everyone came to the fact: the Broker was untouchable not because he couldn't be touched, but because his retaliation would always arrive tenfold, often times skipping the low level grunts entirely.

Marsiella de Vouleneu, known to the world as the second-in-command of Gesellschaft, remembered the day when they decided to "cut the bud" of an upstart in America who had touched their operations in United States. They found out who the cape was and killed his brand new wife.

Three weeks later, the very same cape burned down Gesellscahft's former headquarter, slew two dozen capes and thrice that many sympathizers, and left a clear message, even as his own friend who helped him get back at the Gesellschaft lay dead, surrounding by their dead capes.

Ten years ago, this happened. Even know, the upper brass of the Gesellschaft -especially those who the Broker has "mercifully" spared- hesitated to engage the American Underlord.

Oh, how they laughed when they heard about the Protectorate discovering the man for the first time in 2004. Protectorate thought him to be a fresh trigger, but that was far far from the truth. By the time the Protectorate had discovered the man, the Broker's network had spread not just all over the United States of America but beyond, and the man himself had been active for at least a decade and a half at that point.

Most of his employees didn't even know they were working for him. In fact, quite a few of them thought they were working for legitimate governments. No, the Broker was a mastermind of intrigue. There was a reason why the capes of Gesellschaft called him the American Underlord, for even without realizing it, many of the big villain names of America had come to work for him, if not for money then to further the man's nebulous goals.

"Then we leave Panacea alone?" one of the younger members of the leadership, a cape who hadn't been there when the Broker came calling for blood, asked incredulously. "He is only a single man."

"He is Vexa," the oldest among them snapped.

There was a pause as the younger leaders absorbed that information.

"The Endseeker?"

"The very same."

"The very same Vexa who forced Simurgh to retreat at Canberra?"

"Yes."

"… I apologize. I was not aware that he was such a formidable enemy."

"It doesn't help that he is also immune to subjugating Masters. Thinkers cannot see him."

"Then how do we defeat him?"

"We have yet to find a way, but we will. All things come to an end, and the Broker is no exception to the very law that governs the universe."

"For now?"

"I believe we should encourage our own trigger operations along the same lines as the Broker's."

"What do you mean?"

"The Broker's operations and backings always lead to an increase in parahuman population. Take the city of Minneapolis. It is one of the Broker's main staging grounds. It is where he funds - by proxies - three different cape gangs to wage war on each other, and always near residential areas."

"What does this have to do with our own clean and safe operations?"

"I am suggesting that we should change our Operation Mass Trigger's viability. While we flounder and barely create one or two useful capes to join our cause every year, the Broker finds fresh triggers almost every month."

"I still fail to see the validity of changing our methods. Our methods ensure that we have no traitors among our midst. We only recruit from within."

"Yes, but we are limited, are we not?"

"…. We are."

"But if we were to branch out, fund non-sympathizing cape organizations, and get them to trigger the bystanders in their turf wars-"

"Then we gain fresh triggers. Again, I fail to see the value. Fresh triggers of bystanders will not automatically join us."

"Indeed. But if we were to have our own agents in the area who conveniently happen to be there in the aftermath to help the confused and scared triggers..."

"… Ah, I see now. We will be seen as the good, no matter our past."

"Yes. People want safety, and we shall provide it."

191

Akallas von Aerok

Aug 22, 2018

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Threadmarks 2011.6.14 Kevin Wu 2 / Amy Dallon 3

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Aug 22, 2018

#198

Doctor Kevin Wu

PRT Headquarter

"Yes, I am here to represent Lung, because he doesn't trust the authorities to not arrest him on the spot," he declared.

Before him were some big names of the region.

Director Thomas Calvert, Legend, Chief-Director Rebecca Costa-Brown (video conference), Director James Tagg (VC), Secretary of Defense William Tugurdore (VC), and President of the United States of America Daniel Attenisvile (VC) were all in front of him.

Normally, he would have been nervous being surrounded and talked to by such people of high standing and power, but he didn't feel so. Why? Because he had his son on his back and call. His son promised him that he would come to his rescue if need be, and Kevin believed his son.

"Then we can arrest you for cooperating with a criminal, Doctor Wu," Legend said. "We don't want to do that."

"But if you arrest me, then you will have to say goodbye to cooperating with Lung," Wu countered. "I know how this dance goes, Mr. Legend. The big authorities want to establish that they have control and power, but that's never true, is it? The state of our nation, the lack of villains on the streets being arrested and jailed permanently, and the very fact you agreed to this meeting speaks volumes more than what your words do. So can we please skip these pleasantries and get on to the part where we agree to cooperate and do so?"

Legend frowned. He opened his mouth to speak, but Chief-Director Rebecca Costa-Brown interrupted.

"Doctor Wu, the government cannot be seen actively cooperating with villains, especially one so prominent as Lung."

"Bullshit," Wu scoffed. "Endbrnger Truce comes to my mind."

"… Fine then, let's do as you ask," she replied. "What does Lung want?"

"Nothing but to be left alone," Wu replied. "In exchange, he and all of ABB will dedicate its resources into protecting Panacea."

"ABB is in possession of human trafficking rings. That cannot be condone by any means."

"Yes, I agree with you," he agreed. "Which is why I used my own authority to get Lung to remove ABB's forced prostitution rings."

Director Calvert looked surprised. "What authority, do you speak of?"

Wu looked at the new director.

"I am Lung's father."

There was a moment of pause as everyone took that in, but Wu didn't let the other side speak up so soon.

"Our past is not one for you to consider into the equation. I got Lung to abandon his organization's most heinous crime. Now, will you allow for him to take part in the protection of Panacea?" he asked them.

"What did they say?" Lung asked him.

Wu sat down and sighed.

"You're in."

Lung looked surprised.

"Oh, the fact that I got you to stop your forced prostitution ring helped a lot," Wu told his son. "… You did tell your men to stop it, right?"

Lung nodded. "Yes. It's going to hurt our finances a lot."

"And in exchange, you gained more in the eyes of the people and the government, though not by much. Most importantly, you are making it up with your family," he replied.

Lung grumbled but didn't say much else.

"So, what's for dinner?"

Victoria Dallon

Dallon Household

Ever since … the Endbringer fight, everything's changed.

'Personally, I think it's good change,' Victoria thought to herself.

Her sister always had trouble with her responsibilities. They weighed on her so much, and it was visible to everyone who saw it.

It was Smiles who acted to relieve that weight as much as he could, more than anyone else, and because of how he approached Amy, he was better at it than she, Amy's sister, could do and did. Amy certainly did not like shopping but Amy also didn't have any other hobby or activity that she could help with. Because of her strength and "immaturity," the hospital staff refused to let her join her sister.

It sucked sometimes to be Victoria Dallon.

Right now, though, she was just happy for her little sister.

…

She would be happier if she didn't know that Amy was out there somewhere banging her new boyfriend.

Like, Amy did not need to tell her that.

Vicky did not like imaging anyone doing anything to her sister. No sir and ma'am, she did not like that.

The only reason she was willing to let Smiles and Amy be was because it was Amy who chose Smiles, not the other way around.

…

Well, she supposed she could go on PHO right now and confirm that pairing.

She giggled as she turned on her computer.

Oh, PHO was going to explode over this.

It was such a scandal.

"Vicky, I'm home!"

Victoria's eyes shot open and she flew out of her bedroom.

"Amy, Amy, Amy!"

Instead of the hug that she's been expecting from her sister, Amy instead grabbed her by her shoulder. They skid back a few inches.

Amy had a very scary smile on her face.

"Amy?"

"Vicky."

"Y-Yes?"

"You posted about me and Jo- Smiles on PHO."

"U-Uh..." Victoria Dallon knew she was in trouble. "Y-Yeah! You were so happy with him!"

"Did you even read the comments?"

"… No?"

Amy tightened her grip on her shoulder.

"A-Amy?"

"Vicky, we're going to have a long talk about what's proper and not."

"A-Amy? Amy, you're scaring me. How are you even dragging me? A-Amy? Amy?!"

A/N: Double Update FTW

216

Akallas von Aerok

Aug 22, 2018

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Threadmarks 2011.6.20 Robert Fremanero / Silvia Alegria 1

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Sep 12, 2018

#216

Please destabilize the government.

Robert read the simple four words whose meaning was more calculated than malevolent.

"So it starts," he said to himself.

"What starts, boss?" his lieutenant, who had been smoking through seven packs of cigarette, asked.

Robert, otherwise known to the world as Mexican cartel boss "El Diablo Mexicano," stared right back at his lieutenant.

"Got a big job, Experto," he replied. "A job from the big boss."

Experto tumbled off of his desk and scrambled over to him.

"T-The big boss sent a job?"

To the grunts – and really, anyone not the boss - of the Rey Maligratias Cartel, the big boss was a mysterious figure who held the power of three of Mexico's biggest cartels. All of the bosses obeyed him without complaint, because the last time someone did – the last boss of the extinct Kalavera Cartel -, there was nothing but smoke, ash, and ruins of the boss and his cartel's holdings. Approximately, seven hundred people died in the span of a single hour. Of the seven hundred, forty-seven were capes. The message was clear for everyone.

No one messes with the big boss.

Experto was a ladder climber when Kalavera Cartel was put to the death and its territory split between the three – now definitely-without-question - loyal cartels. He had also been one of the first responder to the scene of the Kalavera Cartel boss's house… where he and the others found a still breathing and screaming body of a beheaded, de-limbed, and castrated boss.

Yes, the man was still alive.

The cape who was strong as a fifth of the Mexican army put together in its heyday was mutilated and left to slowly die.

They put him to death out of pity (after confirming from big boss if they were allowed to).

Ever since then, the big boss became someone who everyone came to awe (from people who weren't exactly right in the head) and fear (from the rest).

As such, receiving a mission from the big boss was a big deal.

Experto looked at the missive Robert got from the big boss. He read it and gawked.

"H-He's asking for too much, hermano!" Experto stuttered. "We don't have enough manpower for that."

"I suspect that big boss will help us," he replied. "After all, this is the big boss that we are talking about."

Robert already guessed what the big boss wanted, though. Unlike the other cartel leaders, Robert had met and discussed with the big boss. What big boss wanted, what big boss foresaw, and what lay waiting for them. It was one of the reasons why Robert was willing to do what big boss wanted; it wasn't for profit but for a higher cause. Profit – along with authority – was merely the benefit reaped from how big boss operated.

"How are we going to do this, then?" Experto asked.

Robert chuckled. "Quite simple. We're going to talk," he said as he turned the missive over, and just as there always was, there were instructions for him to follow.

"… Hah?" Experto uttered, thoroughly confused and baffled.

The video began with a stuttering voice.

"A-Are you sure about this?" the voice asked in Spanish.

"Yes, Experto. Hurry it up."

"… If you say so."

The video moved up, revealing that the camera lens had been pointed down at the concrete ground.

The camera lens then focused on a lone man sitting on a simple wooden chair in a concrete room. There was only two sources of light: the ceiling light and the camera light. It was, however, enough to give the full facial details of the man.

He was average in height but had a homely face to it.

"Hello," the man spoke. "My name is Robert Fremanero. You know me publicly as Mayor Fremanero of Mexico City." He took a deep breath in. "… But I am also known to you all as a cape known as El Diablo Mexicano."

And just like that, any semblance of homeliness in the man vanished for the viewers. Instead, it was exchanged with fear and hate.

"I'm here to tell a few stories..."

And for the next hour of the video, Robert Fremanero would spill secrets of all manners, but most of which talked of a corrupt Mexican government that took bribery from the cartels and looked the other way. Names of officials, politicians, policemen and policewomen, and so much more were released in an uninterrupted video over the internet.

People lost trust in the government in the first ten minutes.

Next, they grew to distrust it by the half hour mark.

Then, the rightful and just leaders found themselves outnumbered in all fields, whether this was academic, financial, political, or social as details of each and every corrupt men and women were released and what their tainted deeds were.

Finally, Mexico was in a state of anarchy once the video ended.

What few true leaders remained, in a desperate aim to get their people away from the corruption of the Mexican central government, got the support of the people who chose them as their leader as well as that of the local militia and the military and publicly declared cessation of the states and communities they were responsible for. They saw no hope for a nation that was so corrupt and in the pits. They moved to save what they could…

And played right into the Broker's hands.

Representative Deputy Silvia Alegria of Baja California sat calmly.

Though she had been forced to wait for the last two hours, she was adamant about staying exactly where she was in order to get this audience.

In the next three days, the entire situation surrounding the power structure of Mexico had run her ragged.

'To think that so many people were part of the corruption and to such a depth,' she shuddered. Even her most trusted secretary was found to be part of the corruption, selling her information to her rivals and cartels alike. He was now in the state jail, waiting to be tried for political espionage and illegal solicitation.

… In a way, she was committing the very same crimes that many of her peers have been noted for. She knew for a fact that some of them have been mob-lynched for this very exact crime.

However, she was not doing this for herself but to protect the people that voted her into office. If they later found out and determined that she was guilty, then she would accept it graciously.

Baja California – together with Baja California Sur – had broken off from the rest of United Mexican States, and it wouldn't be long before the corrupt government came after them with capes and armies. The new Baja Californian Republic needed all help it could get to maintain its independence from the corrupt central government.

Deputy Alegria, however, was not willing to deal with the cartels. No, she would die before she even opened up communication with them other than to demand and accept their surrender.

The USA was riddled with its own problems and would not help. She needed help from a powerful international organization, and she had two in mind.

The first was Cauldron. Known to few as the power vial sellers, they had with them the boogieman of the cape world.

The second was the Broker. If Cauldron was the slimy snake, then the Broker was the creepy motherfucker looking at you through the window when you weren't looking at them.

If Cauldron knew everything you did, then the Broker knew your heart's desire and tempted you with it.

The Devil versus the Demon.

What was the fucking difference?

Cauldron demanded favors and the Broker demanded communication.

For Silvia Alegria, the answer then was simple. Favors would invite corruption, and thus communication was the only acceptable price.

"Representative Alegria."

Silvia's head snapped up and she saw a young woman in a suit.

"The Broker is ready for you."

She nodded and stood up. The young woman turned and walked through a door that existed on a wall that was ever shifting. Silvia followed through nervously, watching over her shoulder as the corridor she had just been in slowly collapsed in on itself. She hurried through…

And came upon a garden.

There was a dirt path between the flowers, plants, and trees.

The young woman was nowhere to be seen.

Silvia gulped and walked forward.

In the background, birds chirped, leaves rustled, and the insects cricketed.

It was peaceful here.

And then she was in a circular clearing where a lone armchair stood in the middle of it, facing away from her. She saw a man sitting there, his arms extended.

"Do come closer, Senorita Alegria," a deep, cracking voice called out to her. "Conversation might be a bit hard if you remain there."

Silvia paused.

She was going to meet the Broker.

She drew a deep breath in and walked forward. She walked around the chair and came face to face with the man himself.

"… It's been a while, Broker."

The white and red tribal mask was still the same.

"Yes, it has been, Senorita Alegria," he replied.

Her eyes narrowed.

"I suspect that what Robert did was also your doing."

"Yes," he replied. "I knew that Robert was sick and tired of his dual life, so I released him from his obligation. The fact that this release happened to create a situation I wanted was optimal."

"… You used to be better than this."

"Morally, perhaps," he agreed. "But morals do not save lives. You realize this too, don't you? Why else would you come meet me?"

She let out a deep breath.

"So you really have changed, hermano," she sighed sorrowfully.

The Broker waved his hand, and an armchair like his appeared behind her. He gestured for her to sit, and she did. "It's been a decade since I last saw you. People change, Silvia."

"You were a hero then."

"I never was. My goal then and my goal now are the same. I was a fool back then, and I wasted so much time and resource trying to change the world."

"But you saved my village as a result."

"… Perhaps there were some good result, like yourself, but ultimately, it brought more trouble."

There was a pause as both of them gathered their thoughts and words.

"You know what I'm here for."

"Yes. I'm surprised you remember that I can read your mind."

"You tried to hide it back then, but it wasn't too hard to work it out once I grew up."

"I suppose."

"… Well?"

"You shall have it, but it comes at a price."

"That is?"

"Bodies."

She froze.

"To be specific, I want your criminals and beggars. Men and women I can mold for the future to come."

"1,000 and no more."

"Some of these very people will be coming to defend your new nation, Silvia, albeit with different names, faces, and memories. At least 5,000."

"3,000. I don't know if I can smuggle so much out."

"3,000. I can accept that," he said. "For your three million citizens, I shall provide a three hundred capes under one of my mercenary corporations to secure your borders."

She nodded and stood up to leave.

"Leaving so soon?"

She glared at him, fully accepting of the fact that the young man who once saved her village for the sake of saving others was replaced by a monster who traded bodies for security. "I have work to do. Not all of us are chessmasters, Broker."

He didn't reply or even move his head as she walked out.

She walked down the path that led her to the clearing in the first place and then she was … back in her office. She turned around and saw that there was a portal over the only doorway into her office, and the young woman who first met her was standing there. The young woman bowed slightly before turning around and walking through the portal.

"What did he do to you?" Silvia asked the young woman, who once upon a time was a young girl that tagged along with a hero.

Silvia remembered her name. Cerulea. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.

But the beautiful girl was now a stone cold killer.

As the portal closed, Cerulea looked at Silvia with a blank stare and responded with a single word.

"Necessity."

And then she - and the portal that Silvia came through - was gone.

It was only then Silvia allowed herself to mourn for the hero she looked up to.

205

Akallas von Aerok

Sep 12, 2018

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Threadmarks 2011.6.29 Falswiat 2 / Paige 2

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Sep 22, 2018

#228

Cerulea gave me a blank stare.

"Yes?" I asked.

"I don't think distancing Silvia was a good thing," she replied.

"Personally, yes," I conceded.

"… You have nothing else to say, father?" she asked with a frown.

I looked at Cerulea from the corner of my eyes before sighing. "What is it?" I asked her.

"It's Silvia," she replied.

"Yes, I most likely made her sad. No, I know for a fact that she's very upset with me," I replied. "What is your point?"

"Father, it's Silvia," she hissed. "You know, the person who taught me my manners and how to speak Spanish? The woman who took care of me when I was sick?"

I didn't say anything. I understood where Cerulea was coming from. Silvia was … a bit of a special person to both of us and three of my other adopted children. We met her in 1995 when we were traveling across all of North America, which naturally included Mexico as well.

Coming across a village under attack by bandits among whom included a parahuman, I rescued the village and drove off the bandits. We stayed there until 1996, during which many of my children grew close with the people there.

Then ten year old Cerulea, in particular, grew close with Silvia, then a seventeen year old girl. By the end of their stay, the two were stuck by their hips. Some might even say that they were sisters all in but the blood.

"I won't mind if you decide to go and make it up to her, Cerulea. She certainly won't look upon you as badly as she did me," I replied. I chuckled. "She more or less called me a devil in her mind, did you know that?"

She frowned. "You certainly have been acting like one recently. I still don't like how you used Smiles."

"You can dislike all you like, Cerulea," he sighed. "But do not act independently. You will make or break my operations."

"… Understood."

"Perhaps after we are finished with this extinction crisis, I will allow you to be free from what I do, but not now. Not at this critical stage."

"I understand."

"… Thank you."

With the destabilization of Mexico, the destabilization of southwestern United States was also given the go.

In particular, the villains that I had held back with threats, bribes, promises, or simple loyalty were given the go to be free. After nearly seven years of restricted movement and action, I suspected that they were ecstatic to let loose.

My calculations gave me roughly thirteen weeks before southwestern United States beomes weak enough for my next plan to be initiated. Until then, however, I would have to wait and bare with the fact that I had more or less ordered anarchy loose upon unsuspecting bystanders and heroes alike.

"But why?"

As I had promised her, I had talked with Paigee about what, how, and why's of my efforts to save humanity. I imagine learning that their spouse was initiating what could only be called undeclared war on her nation, anyone would be deeply shocked and utterly confused.

I took a deep breath in.

"Do you want the basics or the long and nitty gritty explanation?"

"Both," she responded immediately. There was time, I supposed. Jenny was playing over at her friend's house, and was not expected to come back for another three hours. "What does 'releasing' the villains upon the people achieve other than misery?" she demanded sternly.

"More parahumans," I replied with a frown. "That alone would be the basics."

"And the long explanation?"

I activated three of my most trusted detection powers: electronic, sonar, and blood-sight. The world darkened into a white, red, and black world where the walls were not as dark as air, active electronics were white, and blood was red.

No device around us was active nor within hearing range, and we were truly alone without anyone around us for hundreds of yards.

"To defeat Scion, there is a demand for bodies. While the crucial pieces needed against Scion move, coordinate, prepare, and attack, these bodies will keep Scion distracted for how long it takes. Depending on when Scion decides to wipe out humanity, the length of time needed to keep Scion distracted also changes, but ultimately, there needs to be at least ten thousand parahumans willing – or Mastered – to fight Scion to buy at least a four hour's worth of time."

Paigee balked at the number of parahumans.

One average parahuman was enough to disturb a city's usual routine.

Ten average parahumans was enough to control a city.

One hundred average parahumans was a threat to a continent with their ability to destabilize. This was what David claimed to have done; let loose a hundred or so villains to loot, rape, and pillage all across southwestern America.

Closest thing to a thousand parahuman was the Protectorate itself, and they defended the stability of North America.

Ten thousand parahumans were needed to buy four hours?

Not days.

Not weeks.

Not months.

Hours?

He must have read her mind through her face, because he can read people's minds, and sighed, his ever young face almost aging a decade.

"Scion is the source of all powers, honey," he said. "And he never gave away critical or crucial powers that may be used against him."

"T-Then what? Ten thousand capes then what?"

He looked at her. His eyes, which were dark as they ever were, stared into her blue eyes.

"Then we destroy his body and end the threat he is."

"… That's it?"

"It's much more complicated then that, but yes."

"But we have enough then," she whispered.

Ten thousand parahumans was the estimated population of capes in all of USA, after all.

I shook my head. "Even with my powers, gathering them all to one place to take out Scion will take time. No, I need an army of parahumans ready to jump into the meat grinder at my say so."

"Then why don't you just give people powers? I'm sure the government would jump at the chance for more heroes and-"

"And if I did that, honey, then even before I can start, I would have increased the chance of Scion finding out about what I was planning."

She looked confused.

"How is that different from you giving away powers right now?"

"As far as Scion sees, the rate of capes appearing is not different from what he expects."

"He's monitoring us?!"

"With few exceptions, he regularly checks up on humanity's progress," I replied. "Do I know how often? No. Do I know how he does? No. But I do know that he does."

"And if you can read people's minds..."

"Then he can too."

"But why can't he read your mind then? You said so yourself, he checks up on humanity."

I grinned. "Because I am what you call a Blankspot," I replied. "Thinker powers don't work on me, period."

"… Oh."

"But other people are not blankspots. They can appear blurry to many powers, but not outright Blanks."

"So talking about fighting against Scion to others…?"

"Others who are not blankspots? Yes, that will definitely get Scion moving. However, if I cause chaos and cause more parahumans to pop up, and then recruit them? That's perfectly fine, especially because I will be telling people that I am recruiting them for my own 'nebulous' purpose," I replied with air quotes.

She scoffed. "You make it sound so easy."

I let my hands down. "… It does seem like that, doesn't it?"

Then she whirled on me. "Wait, then can't he read my mind?!" she shrieked.

I backed away a bit with my hands out in the classic 'hold up' gesture. "You don't have to worry! I got that taken care of!"

"… How?"

"…"

"David. How did you take care of that?"

"I … may have implanted a Thinker power disturbing symbiote at the base of your neck."

SLAP

"At least you can eat all of the ice cream you want, honey!" David crowed. "It burns a lot of calories!"

She glared at him, but did concede to that point. She had noticed that her appetite hadn't quite curbed itself from her teenage years, and she's been eating more after she met him than before.

Her eyes shot open.

"You -!" she hissed. "Do you know how much I fretted over getting fat?!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Why not just master capes then?" she asked me, though her mind was blaring about how wrong her own words were, morally.

"Well, the thing about my power is that I can't exactly keep track of every single power I have," I replied. "Some of them are passive, in which case, great, but most of them require active usage, and as much as my mind has been upgraded by powers or by tinkertech or by upgrades, there's limits to what I can do. I've yet to find a Master power that doesn't forcibly take over all of my brain's processing power."

She seemed to think about it, even if thinking about how to subvert others made her uncomfortable. "Even … Velafor's?"

"Yes. Despite what everyone speculates, his power has a definite time limit to how long it can stay dormant."

"How long?"

"7 months. Or more specifically, 216 Earth days."

"Earth days?"

"Yea, Velafor's power was operating on different cycle. Because of its version of each individual power's tiny quirks that really doesn't affect anything much, Velafor's power was operating itself under a non-Earth solar cycle. And my power copied that. Funny, right?"

"… It's alien?"

"Yes? Didn't I tell you that last time?"

"… You are sleeping on the couch today."

"What? Honey, why?"

"You are."

"But why?"

"Because I say so."

"But-?"

"Do you want it to be a week?"

I stuttered and just groaned.

"That's right, you old pervert. Bow before me."

"You're taking it a bit too far there."

"You are old, David. I know you're at least fifty years old, and you decided to lure me to your bed right after I hit eighteen."

"You were too sexy, and I waited four years at that point. Sue me."

"My dad did sue you."

"Yeah, and nothing happened."

215

Akallas von Aerok

Sep 22, 2018

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Jan 7, 2019

#239

Jasmine Teresia was a hard working woman and a mother. She worked all day to make money for her child, who was going through hard times just like herself. Mere months ago, gangsters had come in and killed her husband for ignoring their advances, and though she and her daughter escaped, it left them destitute and away from their home town.

But it was going to be fine! They took shelter in a mission, and the priest there was helping her.

The devil, however, didn't want her to be happy, because now, she lay dying on the floor of the mission with the priest, and two men were taking her daughter away from her.

Her dying mind noted the small camera the priest had installed days ago, and wondered if anyone would see this.

The expected but still horrifying reality reared its ugly head.

Agents of Yangban were caught on tape in the Philippines, abducting Philippine citizens for their parahuman status. The Philippines immediately called for a sanction against Chinese Union-Imperial. The Philippines, backed by the United States of America, called for the votes. During this time, numerous videos and photos of Chinese espionage, kidnappings, and other human trafficking evidence were released to the public. Of course, CUI (read: Yangban) tried to push these evidence aside by claiming that they were fakes, but all Thinkers from around the world hired by multiple anonymous parties independently confirmed that most of the evidence was real.

There was like 3% fake, but 97% of evidence being true kind of overshadowed the fact that there were fakes.

Both sides were outraged, and even those who had tentatively supported the CUI found themselves forced by their citizens to vote against the CUI. The few states that had no concern for the citizens or were not affected by the CUI's meddlesome fingers found themselves forced by their neighbors to do so, lest they too suffer the same sanctions for the indirect support of human trafficking.

This wasn't to say that human trafficking didn't exist. Everyone knew they did, but this was the first time a sovereign nation of some power was found to have been doing so directly.

With overwhelming evidence and demands, the sanction of all sanctions passed within days. Even the fractured states of Russia, CUI's longtime allies and neighbors, backed off.

CUI lost their veto power, and all members of the UN would stop trade with CUI.

Outraged, Yangban, despite the demands from the powerless emperor to stop, saw no more need to hide their immoral actions.

And the Philippines, who saw another kidnapping caught on camera right after sanction had been passed, attacked the Yangban agents on their soil and killed them.

Yangban, circumventing the emperor, declared war on the Philippines. Philippines called on their allies, USA.

Essentially?

War broke out between two superpowers.

And this came about to be because Broker provided those evidence, urged Philippine police officers to shoot to kill, pissed off the Chinese on the international scene, made sure to bury the CUI diplomat to UN with Thinkers and non-Thinkers confirming the evidences brought against the big nation, and then when Yangban's own big boss told the agents in Philippine to not piss off the locals… Mastered the agent into attacking one of the most respected rogues on Manila.

Rebecca had to focus on preventing her hands from clumping into fists. Bad things came by when she was angry. She couldn't allow herself to become frustrated or angry.

"-cca?"

She snapped out of her thoughts. "Yes, sir?" she asked as she brought her head up. "I don't think it'll be much of a problem to encourage the Protectorate heroes to fight in the defense of the nation."

The president nodded. "But what about the villains?" he asked.

Surrounded by the leaders of USA and being one such leader herself, she hadn't expected this kind of situation to have erupted.

Unfortunately, she also knew who to blame.

"We … will have to be much harsher on them."

The president shook his head. "No. I want our lethal force to be used against any villains disrupting the logistics of the nation as well as those on record who have already used lethal force against federal and state agents to be dealt with in equal or double the force."

She looked at him in surprise. "Sir-!"

"I think … in the advent of this war, it's time for the world to see that America is not weakened by the constant nippings of the villains and the psychopaths."

"Finally!" a well-built and bald military man exclaimed.

With that one word, others were speaking out about the president's decision as wise.

And Senator Heimstul, her strongest supporter from Congress, looked to be in agreement with the president's decision.

Rebecca showed no emotion on the surface, but internally, she was devastated. The work Cauldron had put into raising the parahuman population against Scion was going to be undone… by a fucking war.

And she knew who to blame.

Last edited: Jan 8, 2019

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Jan 7, 2019

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Jan 10, 2019

#272

Battle of Manila

Battle of Manila is considered the opening move in the Sino-American Bloc War, colloquially known as the Para-Pacific War.

On August 24, 2011, CUI bombarded the US bases around the city of Manila, and this included the US base situated at Subic Bay. This happened mere minutes after their declaration of war against Philippines.

This triggered an immediate response from the US. Allied with the Philippines as they were, US Congress signed their own declaration of war in support of the Philippines. This prompted Japan and South Korea, two nations that have been suffering at the hands of the Yangban more than any other nation, joined the US in the war against CUI. This begins a chain of war declarations and shifting allegiances that would take some time to explain, and thus will be ignored for now.

The Battle of Manila, as it came to be known, was fought out three forces: CUI invasion force on one side and the US military stationed at Subic Bay and filipino military.

The initial attack began with heavy bombardment not just with battleship batteries and artillery but also parahuman powers. A video showing the bombardment was captured by the locals who weren't in Manila at the time of the initial siege.

Fortunately for the Philippines, Manila was home to a very secretive shield tinker. While this tinker was incapable of covering the entire metropolis of Manila, he was able to expand his shields to cover the centers of the cities.

Because of Manila's strategic value, CUI didn't give up when the shields came up. Instead, they doubled down on the siege and began to enact even greater levels of siege bombardment. This resulted in the total destruction of all non-shielded portions of the city, causing huge outcries from the international community as videos of the horrors of war began to flood the internet.

CUI ignored these outcries, justifying that their war efforts must secure their soldiers' safety before the safety of civilians of other nations. This wasn't to say that there weren't CUI soldiers, officers, and capes who were horrified by what they were doing. One such admiral, Jiu Wang Shen of the Imperial Chinese Navy, outright disobeyed the orders from the Yangban to bombard Manila.

No such disobedience followed for those attacking American base at Subic Bay.

It is estimated today that more than three thousand tons of explosive dropped on the Subic Bay, and more weren't dropped because CUI desired informations in the American base that supposedly had details about the wider network of American bases in Asia.

Electronic warfare was ongoing in the background of the attack. While explosive riddled the bay and American lives on the surface, in the deeper bunkers, CUI hackers, Thinkers, and Tinkers tried to infiltrate into American hardwares. The officer in charge of the base, Colonel David McJaeger, cut off the network by physically severing the connection, but CUI Tinkers employed invasive wireless connection. Unable to stop the electronic attacks, Colonel McJaeger ordered the physical server hardwares to be blown up with grenades and whatever other means they had.

That said, there was a single server hardware that could not be destroyed. Built by a hardware tinker from Los Angelos, the hardware was meant to serve as both the mainframe of the entire server farm the base had despite its small size but also to serve as a black box for the events that happened at base should anything happen.

It also had a backup of some of the more important files from the rest of the server.

Colonel McJaeger knew that he could not allow the hardware to fall into the hands of the CUI military and the Yangban. Encrypted as the information within may be, time and effort always broke any encryption's backbone into revealing the good marrow within. That said, escape was not possible.

He tried it anyway.

He gathered the troops available to him, not knowing that they were all that was left of the people that once roamed Subic Bay, and after forming them into seven squads, handed each squad a package to take away. The colonel kept the exterior of the hardware, an obnoxiously bright pink thing, while the actual tinkertech was hidden away into one of the packages he distributed.

McJaeger stayed behind with three technicians to give the CUI the illusion of the base commander remaining to the end, trying to destroy the last of the informations on site.

He was considered MIA after a week, and then would be confirmed as KIA three months later.

The Attack on Subic Bay was only a minor part of the greater Battle of Manila.

Once CUI finally subdued the Subic Bay and demolished the American military presence in the area, they felt confident enough to devote even more resources into taking over Manila, the capital of the Philippines.

A whole one hundred thousand soldiers were deployed by the CUI to attack the city's protected areas, because while the shield tinker could prevent bombardment from hitting the areas protected by his shields, he couldn't use his shields to prevent entry by foot.

So Chinese soldiers led in platoons by individual Yangban agents stormed the bubbles of safety. Few places fought back valiantly, but there is nothing glorious writing about the slaughter of the defenders.

There was, however, a single place that withstood the Chinese advancement. In a small place known as Santol within the Metro Manila where the shield tinker was based with twelve other capes and a hundred times that many civilians, the locals held out against the ever escalating invaders. In their lonesome, they held out for three days, but they too fell.

And like that, four days after the first explosive shell dropped on Manila, Manila fell under the onslaught of the CUI bombs and troops. By the end of the "battle," a million of the twelve million residents of Metro Manila had been killed by the bombardment.

Less than one hundred of the ten thousand American troops at Subic Bay survived.

No one saw the black rimmed portals pick up fresh triggers one by one around the city thanks to the near constant bright explosions that left the city barren and flat.

Last edited: Jan 10, 2019

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Akallas von Aerok

Jan 10, 2019

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Jan 14, 2019

#292

Recent conflict between the two superpowers urged the rise of smaller separatists movements within the CUI that have been biding for their time.

Some of these separatists and rebels include the Hui, Manchu, Yi, Miao, Tibet...

Okay, basically, it was everyone that wasn't Han Chinese.

Who knows why all of them decided the CUI war with America was the time for their uprising. Perhaps they chafed too long under the extreme authoritarian and centralized government in Beijing that didn't recognize their needs. Perhaps it was because they didn't want their own cultures to die out when the Han Chinese, the biggest population in Chinese mainland, wanted to push their culture upon them.

What is certain is that there were a lot of factors involved for all of these groups to rise up against the ruling regime of China. While some like the Hui and the Manchu would be put down as speedily and brutally as possible due to the short distance from the capital and strategically important their regions were, respectively, the rest of the separatists had the upper hand when it came to their operations.

The Tibetians were supported by the Indians, and in the highlands where the CUI lacked many infrastructures of their own, Tibet's cession was a given.

The Miao and the Yi were allied with each other, and in the humid mountains of southern China, they ruled supreme in guerilla warfare. Coupled with few dozen parahumans from their ethnic groups that came to join the cause, the CUI had trouble keeping them down. At least, this was until the CUI's leadership had enough of their logistics being messed with and stormed the region with literal millions of footsoldiers, destroying all Miao-Yi ethnic towns and villages and forcefully relocating them deeper into Han-heavy eastern coastal regions.

And as many people could guess, this had ... horrible consequences.

During the CUI "cleansing" of the Miao-Yi, more than fifty parahuman triggers occurred. Angered and in pain, they lashed out to their last breath against the dogs of the central government. Yangban lost fifteen parahumans and the CUI lost a hundred thousand troops putting those fifty down.

And then there was the Zhuang. Today, they are the people of the Zhuang nation, but during the times of CUI, they were a minority group living in southern China, much like Miao and the Yi. Unlike the latter two, the Zhuang were happy with their positions in life. They saw no need rebel nor did they want to as they were one of the accepted and promoted cultures in the CUI.

But then the Miao-Yi separatist rebellion happened, the the CUI's central government became extremely paranoid with the rest of southern China. They cracked down on people using the flimsiest of reasons. Some times, these reasons originated from the Yangban Thinkers, and when the Zhuang did get official response from the government for the sudden crackdowns they got, they were told basically...

"Because these parahumans far away from your home thought that there were rebels among you, so we invaded your homes, burned down your warehouses, arrested you, and beat you even though most of you are dutiful citizens." Not worded like this, but the meaning was there.

Later historians would learn that CUI and Yangban's Thinkers failed to properly weed out the rebels from the rest of the populace due to Thinker interference. The cause of this interference is still unknown, but most point to the Americans as the obvious source of the interference.

The CIA saw all of this happen to the Zhuang, and gladly tossed parahuman trainers, regular trainers, and guns towards the Zhuang.

Emboldened by the training and the weapons they got, the Zhuang rose up in revolt when the majority of the CUI's army and parahuman presence was fighting the war over in the Philippines, Japanese isles, and Korean peninsula. Nearly a hundred thousand rose up on April 10th, 2013, and the other separatists used the CUI's split attention to give the rebellion one more go at it.

Left with little they could do, the CUI pulled its force out of Japan, Korea, and the Philippines for the defense of the mainland.

This would prove to be the turning point in the war for the CUI.

Last edited: Jan 15, 2019

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Akallas von Aerok

Jan 14, 2019

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Akallas von Aerok

Akallas von Aerok

Jan 23, 2019

#303

Branden Weisstein

Major of the army of the United States military

If the Chinese stayed at the Philippines, then the war [Para-Pacific War] might not have been bad as it could be. America, at the time, was solely devoted to playing the defensive because of the split in public support. You see, America didn't quite appreciate having to go to war for someone else, regardless of the fact that this someone else was an ally of America. The waves of isolationism had hit the peak that it would have hit, and American foreign and internal policies were gearing up to finally close the nation off from the world.

That's when the chinese hit the Philippines, and that's when a lot of people learned that we couldn't exactly isolate ourselves. Sure, we had the Triumvirate and the Protectorate, but they couldn't be everywhere. There was suddenly this fear that foreign soldiers may start attacking America next.

Had the Chinese confined themselves to the Philippines, then that fear might not have influenced the public too much.

But no, they had to attack South Korea and Japan, two other allies of America in Asia. They weren't even part of this conflict, for God's sake! The Yangban shittards didn't care, though, and they bombed this place called Gunsan in Korea and Fussa in Japan. Both attacks hit American airbases, but the later attack also affected huge civilian population as it was very close to Tokyo. Korea and Japan got shit scared and declared war, because someone fucking just carpet bombed one of their cities each!

Now, this didn't mean that either of them had the military capability to even momentarily hold China back. Both nations were hit harder with comparatively higher impact than China, after all. Sure, China got hit multiple times, but they had the resources and manpower to help them. Japan and Korea didn't have that, and both of them lost either a really big metropolitan area or an entire island, both of which were caused by Leviathan, and you all know how that sea bitch never just affected the immediate area.

The point is, they were recovering when they had no choice but to fight the Chinese.

From American perspective, their allies in Asia were being hit one by one and that did not sit well with them. What else could this be but a prelude to a war upon America itself at a later date?

Scared and angry, America devoted itself as a whole to the conflict. And this was when it became a truly offensive war.

I hated this war.

Wang Juan-Ti

Lieutenant of the Chinese Union-Imperial Army

We were scared, and I don't know how else I can say this.

Surrounded by allies of our enemies, we were constantly reminded of the fact that we could be bombed from our rear at any given time. Yeah, Yangbans were dipshits, but outright killing someone [incidents before Chinese declaration of war upon the Philippines] was going too far. But I also know that Yangban was looking for excuses to have the final say in the government, so that they can declare war on a foreign power.

A lot of us, but not me, thought that America wouldn't help the Philippines because it was the islanders who caused the entire issue. But America came and this meant that all of American bases in the nations surrounding us was also part of the conflict.

For fuck's sake, what were we supposed to do? Keep attacking the Philippines when American airplanes could bomb Beijing by flying off from Korea or Japan? No one would accept that, no one with an inkling of military knowledge and experience, anyways.

So we attacked them [Korea and Japan], and we made sure to only attack the American airbases. Something got mixed up between orders and the action. The pilots were ordered to execute a strict by the book operation and to cause no civilian harm at all. Instead, they went and bombed two entire cities before they were shot down.

Unprepared and weak as they were, they [Korea and Japan] were more weight to the scale that was this war, and they joined on the side of the Americans.

This made the war Asia-wide theater of warfare, and this forced us to spread out, lest any point of the theater be exposed and the mainland itself be compromised to foreign soldiers.

My family was in Guangzhou. It was one of the first cities Eidolon bombed.

I only have my daughter left to me. I lost two sons, my wife, my wife's parents, and my parents.

I loathed this war, the Americans, and the Yangban.

They cost me nearly everything.

… And then the Russo-Burmese attacks came.

Bo Thet Su

Parahuman Warrant Officer of the Myanmar 2nd Parahuman Aerial Platoon

To say that the Russia and Myanmar allied and attacked Chinese Union-Imperial would be incorrect. Myanmar and Russia were not allied with each other, and they certainly were not part of any meaningful communication.

In fact, everyone now knows that Russia as a nation never took part in the attack against CUI; the "Russian" attacks were those coordinated by many of its independent powerful parahuman organizations. It was a truly an example of how weak Russia's federal government was if it couldn't stop such massive attack on CUI when it certainly was trying to stay out of the war in the east (they had their own minor scuffle in the Caucuses, again).

… To be honest, most of those parahuman organizations didn't grow big until after they managed to loot so much of their power and wealth from CUI.

From the Myanmar side, it was a paramilitary parahuman organization that was involved in striking out against CUI. They were people who called themselves the Second Shan Empire, and their actions caused a lot of trouble between the Shan people and the Barmar people here in Myanmar. Anyway, this SSE decided that CUI looked weak and looted some provincial

Anyways, you know what I mean, right? The nations weren't involved, despite what people keep on saying.

[Note: Bo Thet Su, called No Thet Su during the Para-Pacific War, was seen and photographed as part of the Myanmar 2nd Parahuman Aerial Platoon during the Para-Pacific War, and took part in multiple looting of cities. He and others like him within the Myanmar military continue to deny the evidences laid against them. Bo Thet Su's asset grew from less than $1 million US dollars to $1.8 million US dollars by the time the war ended. It is rumored that the current President of Myanmar, a general at the time of the war, was responsible for the Myanmar attacks on president denies the accusation.]

Last edited: Jan 23, 2019

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