Can't hear the victory bells over all this damn noise!
Beta'd by Firstselector, SpytheEngineer, and Kinsfire.
If asked, Taylor would freely admit that she was not, in fact, expecting what happened when she landed after making sure the fleeing Endbringer wasn't going to try and come back.
Namely, she wasn't expecting Brandish to get in her face and start screaming, most words lost to incoherence and spittle but the occasional "corrupting" and "unheroic" making their way through.
"Step back," Taylor barked, perhaps drawing a little power through the ansuz inscribed on her eye patch for kingly command, and Brandish did, albeit begrudgingly.
"Now then," said Taylor, drawing not on Odin's power but on his experiences to raise herself with kingly mein, "what is it that you were screaming about that you felt was so necessary that I hear that you would ambush me as I set down?"
"You're the reason everything's breaking down!" snarled Brandish, eyes almost seeming to glow behind the odd orange goggles she wore over her eyes. "You're why it's here!"
"Mom! What the fuck are you doing?" Even if Taylor wasn't directly subject to it, she could still see how Vicky's aura made everyone flinch back as if she had raised her hand. She was grateful that the blonde had decided to come down between her mother and Taylor- even if Taylor had, strictly speaking, faced worse, and with far more doubts of her safety (getting hit with an Annihilator-level attack and shrugging it off did wonders for the self-confidence, after all), there was something to be said about facing a spitting mad person, especially the parent to her girlfriend, that other circumstances simply… lacked.
If not for her newfound powers, she suspected that her first few meetings with Emma after being assaulted would have elicited similar feelings of fear in her.
"She's a curse on all our lives!" spat Brandish, pointing at Taylor over her daughter's shoulder and making Vicky reel back from the sheer vitriol in her words. "She's the reason why the Endbringers came! She's-"
"If not for Hodr and Strongtower, there would have been another, sooner or later," came Quarrel's voice, the unquestioned authority of a general in her voice. "Will be again for me, I suspect. You blame a child for the sin of having too much power and trying to end a thing that should not be. I wonder, would you blame yourself as easily if you were the one to trigger the next Endbringer battle? If you were the one to topple this tower instead of I?"
One part of Taylor rankled at being called a child- while she wasn't quite sure how exactly to count herself now that she had Odin's history written inside her skull, even if it wasn't anywhere close to a part of her the same way that all those years with her mother were, they were still hers, and she was far older than she looked. However, another, more practical part of herself counseled her to hold her tongue, and it was correct- from the outside, she was a child, having only lived fifteen years, even if there was far more writ upon her brain.
"I- you- that's beside the point!" snapped Brandish, cloaked in the unrighteous fury of those who have had their point flayed and lack a response.
"Not by my reckoning, nor by theirs, but continue," said Quarrel, gesturing broadly at the gradually growing crowd. "By all means, accuse a child of destroying your life. It shan't be the first time, I'm sure."
From the clenching of Brandish's fists, it was clear that Quarrel had hit her mark (not as if she wasn't known for doing so).
"That's beside the point," Brandish ground out through gritted teeth.
"By all means, Mom," Victoria said, putting enough emphasis on the title to make it clear that that wasn't how she thought of the woman before her, not truly. "Tell us what your point actually is, because I'm hearing a lot of whining about your life being ruined and not enough explaining what exactly she has to do with it."
"She got Amy kidnapped!"
"That was a coincidence at best- we both know that the leverage Coil wanted over me had nothing to do with the cape he wanted your daughter to heal," said Taylor, making direct eye contact with Carol and, almost on a whim, pulsing magic through her remaining eye to make it glow an eerie gold within her helmet almost as a threat. "Speaking of which, whatever did end up happening to her?"
"Transferred out to a classified location for power testing in the wake of her… abrupt recovery from her Case 53 status," said a cape in tans and browns that Taylor took a moment to recognize as Clay, a temporary member of the Protectorate ENE on loan from New York. "If it helps, I don't think anyone this side of Dragon knows where exactly she is."
That neatly cut Taylor's next question off at the knees.
"Your point is invalid, Aunt Carol," said Laserdream, tired but alert and hovering beside Taylor in solidarity. "Try again later, maybe."
"She poached Vista! She broke the unity of the Protectorate, leaving openings for the Teeth to come into Brockton Bay, Teeth that she even now consorts with, all because-" Brandish began, pointing at Quarrel when she brought up the Teeth.
"Yes, by all means," said Taylor- not loudly, per se, but forcefully and with the weight of authority- "tell them, how when Vista found documentation on my Trigger Event and then took the issue up with Director Piggot, she had her own Second Trigger and fled. Tell them how I locked myself into a box of filth and ruined my own eye, and how I put myself into a coma that I very nearly did not wake from, all for the sake of ruining the Protectorate." She leaned in, eye practically blazing with golden light. "Tell me how I turned my sister in all but blood against me for two years just for the chance of causing the Protectorate some minor issues with a cannibalistic gang of murderhobos."
"A dead cannibalistic gang of murderhobos," said Quarrel firmly. "Dead for violating the Endbringer Truce and attempting to kill me as I came to this battlefield."
"Good," said Taylor. Then, realizing how it could be construed, she hurried to continue. "I'm glad they're out of the way, maybe now we'll have a chance to put the Empire down."
"I don't see how that's germane to the conversation," said Laserdream, frowning.
"They attempted to poach me last time, in arguable violation of the Endbringer truce." Taylor frowned. "Actually… hmm. Brandish, do you recall any… irregularities with that situation?"
"Really? You want to talk about poaching? You, the girl who's trying to seduce my daughter away from New Wave? You disgust me."
A sword made out of some sort of energy appeared in her right hand, even as her left hand manifested a shield. That shield slammed into Vicky, sending her hurtling to the side with wide eyes, clearing the way for Brandish to lunge, sword swinging in low.
It never met its target.
A massive, ursine form seemed to unfold from within Taylor's shadow, superimposing itself between Taylor and Brandish's blade. It carved partway into the form of Styx before stopping, momentum spent and Brandish unable to push it farther.
"You get one freebie," she rumbled, eyes flashing with an eerie red light. "Now weapons off before we have to… pacify you."
Brandish wasn't fool enough to disobey, not with the sound of Flechette's arbalest ratcheting a bolt into position to punctuate that sentence.
"Thank you, for your… cooperation," said Quarrel, who hadn't drawn her bow again but had an arrow in her half-raised right hand, almost as if she was planning to throw it like a knife.
Brandish visibly bristled at that, but said nothing.
"Now then," continued Quarrel, slipping her arrow back into its quiver. "Was there a point to all that bluster, or were you just blowing smoke? If it's the latter, I don't think it'll be taken particularly well, especially given what we could be doing instead of standing around and gawking at one woman's personal grudge."
She didn't alter the tone of her voice in any way, but most of the uninvolved capes watching received the distinct impression that they were not wanted here, clearing out in favor of finding something to do that wouldn't get the cape who put down an Endbringer to pay particular attention to them.
Brandish, seeing any hope of support she might have dry up as the crowd receded, just spat at her daughter's feet. "You disgust me."
"You disappoint me," returned Victoria firmly.
Brandish turned and stalked away to the medical tent, causing raised voices inside that none of the assembled capes cared enough to listen to.
"Sorry about that," said Vicky, rubbing the back of her head. "Mom is… well, I probably shouldn't try to excuse her behavior, I really need to get out of that habit."
"Take your time, Victoria. Habits aren't broken overnight," Quarrel responded. "That said, there is a conversation I need to go have, so I'll leave you to it."
With that, the archer walked in the direction of the Thinker area, leaving a confused Vista and a visibly disgruntled Teeth cape behind. "She always has to have the last word," grumbled the member of the Teeth, sighing and then turning to follow her.
With Brandish and Quarrel gone, the focus of the attention (at least, what remains after the other capes took their leave) shifts to Taylor, seeming almost anticipatory.
Taylor, in turn, raised the eyebrow that wasn't obstructed by her eyepatch. "What's everyone looking at me for?" She had a suspicion of what was going on, but she wanted confirmation before she actually acted on it.
Laserdream, reticence poking out the edge of her battle-face, is the one to answer. "We, uh, wanted some advice on what to do in the wake of the fight? You, uh, you're the only one of the command staff present, everyone else is holed up with the Thinkers it looks like."
Taylor sighed, more resigned than anything else. "Can't argue with that, I suppose." She called on the logistical experience of Odin, eyepatch glowing with ansuz, and then nodded. "Alright, then, here's where we start…"
Quarrel was very much expecting the Triumvirate to show up before she got to the Thinker tent that she was almost disappointed that she made it into the enclosed area without being stopped.
"Ah, don't get up on my account," said Quarrel, raising both hands palms-out as multiple of the Thinkers stood. "Just want to sit in and listen to the rest of the room about what you think about the situation both as it stands and going forwards."
"Is that what you told the Butcher when you killed them and all the Teeth except for Vex?" asked a blonde in a catsuit, seeming to only realize that she was saying that could very easily piss off the newest Butcher, one who had killed an Endbringer to boot.
By that point, though, it was too late, and the Thinkers had all leapt from their seats in a chaotic mess, attempting to flee the tent. As if to add insult to injury, the Triumvirate floated in through the entryway to the tent in a formation that was entirely too smooth for them to not have practiced beforehand.
"What's going on in here?" snapped Alexandria, glaring at all present until they stopped moving.
"Tattletale," said Accord irritably, the only one of the Thinkers who hadn't participated in the chaotic attempted exodus from the tent, "accused Quarrel of killing the Butcher and the rest of the Teeth. Given the lack of the typical hallmarks of a newly inherited Butcher- the twitching, decreased fine motor control and associated tendency towards breaking things, and plodding stride- I find it unlikely."
"I am not the Butcher," said Quarrel calmly. "As a matter of fact, the Butcher will not be a factor in terms of parahuman dynamics, going forwards, although that's more a consequence of attempting to attack Vista and I on our way to respond to this Endbringer attack with the rest of the Teeth save Vex."
When this failed to lower the tension in the room, Quarrel sighed. "Look, if I were actually the Butcher, I'd be pain blasting Tattletale for being an annoying little shit, or Accord for paying too much attention, or someone else for some bullshit justification. I've been with the Teeth for longer than some of you have been capes, I know how the damn game goes with new Butchers. Call in Vex or Vista if you want- or don't," she added when that only caused the room to tense up more, "but I'm not gonna just fly off the fuckin' handle and start attacking everyone in the room."
"Forgive us some caution," Alexandria responded dryly, "since you have shown heretofore undemonstrated utility in your… efforts against the Endbringers in a way that could, potentially, speak to inheriting the Butcher collective."
"Alrighty then, little miss subject matter expert," said Quarrel, managing to keep her irritation mostly out of her tone, "by all means, if you have some kind of device or some secret parahuman who can tell whether I'm actually the Butcher or not, call them in, but if not, then let the Thinkers sit down and worry about if my little cousin's home city's gonna get flattened by another Endbringer in a month."
Annoyingly, the first option was chosen, but it wasn't more than three minutes before the armored form of Chevalier clanked through the door. As his helmet turned to regard her, Quarrel felt something pressing against her in a direction she couldn't quite quantify, feeling almost slimy as it seemed to feel her up, but the sensation passed before she could do more than shudder.
"She's clear, no Butcher here," he said, nodding to Alexandria. "If you don't mind, I'm gonna get back to the cleanup effort."
"By all means," said Alexandria, inclining her helmeted head, and Chevalier slipped out of the tent with considerably less noise than he entered with.
"Are you satisfied?" asked Quarrel, all but ignoring the rest of the parahumans in the room in favor of making what would have been eye contact with Alexandria if not for her helmet.
"...I suppose we can't afford to dispute this any more, even for the sake of Vista's safety," said Alexandria.
"I would sooner trust the Teeth with her safety than the monster you have running the PRT here in Brockton Bay, Alexandria," said Quarrel, no longer bothering with the unbothered façade.
Before Alexandria could fire back, Legend cut in. "The situation is… under investigation, and not germane to the situation at hand. We'll leave you to it."
A muscle in Alexandria's jaw jumped, then she turned abruptly and followed Legend out of the tent, Eidolon trailing in their wake like a puppy who'd just been told that dinner was cancelled.
"Alright, now that that's squared away, let's get back to business," said a man with barbed wire on his leather jacket. "Obviously we can't talk about the results of the battle yet, except in broad strokes, but do we think it likely that Quarrel will be targeted next time?"
As the Thinkers slowly collected themselves into something resembling a collective and started theorizing, Quarrel moved into a poorly lit corner of the tent, observing without being involved.
After all, information was everything in war, and she'd take as much as she could get.
And that's that!
Wow. Can't believe we're finally here. I remember plotting some of this out with Demjou in the Gaylor server last August, and to finally be here, it's… unreal, almost.
Brandish is almost certainly to full-on OOC status here, and there's a reason for that.
I'm sure that nothing's going to come of Quarrel's weird sensation, no sir.
I'm getting geared up to move this week, if you want to throw some help my way on that one, I got me a Ko (fi) (https (:/) (/) ko (-) fi (/) lucifra) and a Pa tre on (https (:/) pa tre on .com (/) Lucifra), and you can see chapters a week early if you become a patron. (remove spaces and parentheses)
I also have a discord sir ver for author stuff now (as in as of like right now it's going live)- if you have questions or comments that you'd like a more direct, that's another option: https (:/) (/) dis co rd dot com (/) NHRUKz8jyy (remove spaces and parentheses, dot to period)
That's about it, so read, review, enjoy, and have a nice day!
