0.5

Clean Up on Aisle Brockton

It's happened again folks!

Somehow, within the period of forty eight hours, yours truly is being forced to report on yet more cape shenanigans. And once again, these actions are far from the exclusive scoops I'm famous for. Why, if you looked out the window you might have seen today's topic of conversation sailing through the air like reanimated ghosts straight out of Davy Jones' locker.

I am talking, of course, about the Boat Graveyard.

One of Brockton Bay's most defining landmarks for better or ill, it would be no understatement to call it the greatest symbol of what our city has become over the course of the past decade. A derelict shipwreck, parts of it sticking out of the waters as its long since scarred hull sinks further and further into the depths.

That was the reality many of us grew up with.

And yet today we all bore witness to what might soon be called the heist of the century as half a dozen ships were dragged from their tombs in the shallows like a fish on a hook at the hands of our city's latest mystery. It wouldn't be a mistake to think that this heist was performed by the culprit behind our recent Leviathan scare.

Though this time I did manage to grab some good pictures of the ships as they were carried over the docks!

[1] ; [2] ; [3]

I also managed to grab pictures of a peculiar gathering of figures near the headquarters of the Dockworkers Union. Half of our city's main force, in fact, as they no doubt had the same idea as yours truly and followed the salvaged wreckage to its intended destination.

Unfortunately, nothing new was discovered and the area was quickly cordoned off by PRT forces as they arrived. I have, however, put together a brief summary on the history of the Dockworker's union and salvage laws.

[1] ; [2]

It is a bit of a long read but maybe it will help you, dear reader, come to your own conclusion regarding this strange meeting between the Protectorate heroes and what appears to be a Union representative. Unfortunately, I was too far away to catch whatever they were talking about, but after a few minutes the representative left and some of the heroes were standing guard over the wreckage.

For a brief summary on Brockton Bay's Protectorate check the [Link]

Even so, could this mean that the Union is in cahoots with our mysterious cape? Were they being used as a smokescreen to draw attention away from the guilty party as they fled the scene? Could the ships themselves have been some kind of grand distraction as the mastermind sought out a completely different objective.

At this point in time it is impossible to determine, but as always I am resolved to see this investigation through!

The fact remains that twice now has the city been shaken to its core by the actions of this individual. Someone whose name and face we have yet to see. While I was hoping to be given some time to prepare, it seems that none of us can afford to ignore this person.

Whoever they are.

Wherever they are.

And whatever their next move might be.

"So… is it ready yet?"

Charlotte bounced impatiently, legs kicking about as she watched the figure across from her, the sound of rustling pages and thoughtful hums driving her up the wall.

Most people liked to write their articles and post as soon as they were ready.

Not Charlotte though.

She had the dubious luck of working with an editor.

"Maybe." Yu bit down on the eraser of his pencil. "For now, yeah, sure. But I figure we'll probably need to approach the DWU before posting. I don't really think it's wise to make enemies." The man bit clean through the rubber, spitting it out and getting another pencil to chew on. "Tell you what, why don't you go approach them for an interview? You got a shot of this guy here talking with the capes, go speak to him, or get it on record that he won't speak. Do that and you're golden."

Watching as her main man bit straight through another pencil, the amateur journalist pulled out a pouch of them she'd picked up on the way to work.

"Jitters still that bad? Why don't you just use a patch?"

"I'm not kicking cigs just to get addicted to some damn patch." Rubbing his face, the teenage Chinese boy immediately apologized. "Sorry for snapping. The withdrawals are killing me."

Charlotte didn't blame him for the bad habit. Most had picked up one thing or another back when Lung came to town.

"It's okay." She gave her editor a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. "You'll get through it and then we can hit the bookstore when they're done quarantining the boardwalk. Sound good?"

"So long as you're the one paying."

The journalist wannabe stuck out her tongue.

"I'm already paying you, aren't I?"

"You pay me in hopes, dreams, and your coupon collection. And let me tell you right now, as much as I love reading, those don't make for the most inspiring material." He chuckled, mouth instinctively seeking out another eraser to chew on.

Charlotte chuckled at her friend's humor, promises to actually pay him for all the extra work she'd piled on this week spilling from her lips as the literature aficionado gave her article another once over.

"Also, you'll probably have to blur the man's face in the picture. You don't want anyone else badgering him to hear about what happened. Well, anyone other than you I guess."

She crossed her arms with an unamused look.

"Zheng Yu, are you implying that I badger people? Me? Of all people?"

Looking up from behind the pages, her editor shot her the most unimpressed look a teenager who looked like he was built out of twigs could. A great feat considering the boy's often well mannered behavior.

"When it comes to capes? I'm surprised you haven't abducted the man already."

Oh, the nerve of this guy!

Alright, so maybe he had a point in that Charlotte was a bit of a pest when it came to tailing capes. Whether they be rogues, heroes, or those two game idiots that one time. There were very few people willing to put their necks on the line as she did when it came to grabbing the latest and best snapshots of cape action in Brockton Bay.

She'd managed to get quite a lot just from the semi blurry images that she got the night Lung was kicked out!

But the fact remained that Charlotte, for all her bravery behind the lens of a camera, was a hopeless coward when it came to everything other than stalking people and taking pictures.

She couldn't hold a conversation for long.

Avoided confrontations like they were the plague.

Really, even if she wasn't particularly liked or disliked back in Winslow before the school popped like a balloon, Charlotte knew that there wasn't anyone in particular who actually cared about her there. The only friend she really had was Zheng and they met at the library so she didn't care whether them being friends put her in the crosshairs of whatever little group or clique was making the rounds.

That didn't just go for school.

It was the entire city.

"Charlotte, you there?"

"Sorry, sorry. I spaced out a bit. Did you say something?" Shaking her head, the photographer smiled sheepishly.

Her editor sighed, but didn't rag on her too much.

"Just asking why are you so gung ho on following this story. You're not the type to look too hard on things." And that was as tactful a way of calling her a shallow paparazzi as there was.

Because it was the truth.

Everyone, her included, was constantly looking over their shoulders, wondering if something they did was going to get them in trouble. Whether it be with the heroes, or the gangs, most just wanted to tuck their heads down and move on with their lives because getting in trouble wasn't worth it.

Nobody wanted to rock the boat too much.

"I just think it's important, you know? Things finally feel like they are changing around here so I wanna be there to see it."

It was a strange feeling.

She honestly couldn't tell what the last time she felt this invested in something. Especially in a city that had been spinning its wheels since before she was born. A place that could only change for the worse for as long as she'd known it.

'If it's gonna be this bad, then I might as well stay out of trouble and not be bothered.'

Or so she thought until two days ago, then someone kicked Lung out of town. And it was what she thought before that person also dragged the wreckage that had all but become a metaphor for her hometown's hopeless state out into the bay.

All of that in measly 48 hours.

"Well, I got you a lead then in case you wanna dive deeper into this."

Charlotte at that moment felt she could kiss him.

"You do?!"

He leaned back with an amused smile.

"Yeah, it only took a little searching around but I managed to grab the name of the guy the heroes were talking to in your pictures. Again, make sure to censor those if you don't wanna get in trouble."

Right, right.

She'd get right on that as soon as she could.

"So, who's the guy?"

"Name is Daniel Hebert, friends call him Danny, he's been the head of hiring at the Union for a while. Real big on worker's safety. Been pushing for the ferry to get fixed for years now…"

Charlotte tuned out the rest, heart dropping through her stomach as she realized that she knew that name.

She knew it all too well.

Uncertainty.

Anxiety.

Fear.

Annoyance.

The meeting room was flooded with a riot of colors the moment Gallant walked in, a virtual kaleidoscope of misery and negativity that almost knocked him on his butt. Firming himself, the Wards quietly walked through the door and quickly marched to their corner.

There were easily forty people in the room, half of them in some kind of costume, the rest in uniforms or very expensive looking suits and all of them were left to get comfortable in the metal folding chairs set out in two banks of twenty.

His teammates took up the back right corner, furthest away from the two plastic buffet tables set against the far wall - immediately across the way when Gallant entered - and loaded down with a combination of coffee, paper documents, and a projector that looked just about ready to die.

But then again, this was the supposed briefing on Brockton Bay's supposed new crisis.

The silent, hushed conversations taking place didn't exactly help with nerves either, and as far as he was concerned, the only reason the Wards were allowed to sit on such an important meeting at all was because just about everyone had been called to attend.

"Did they tell you anything?"

He turned to Carlos, no, Aegis as soon as he sat down. Sometimes it was a bother to remember when they could use codenames and when they could say each other's real names.

"Nothing really. They just said we're supposed to watch and ask later if we have any questions." Sitting behind the Protectorate heroes, the Wards were placed near the back of the room and next to the exit. It was clear that they were supposed to keep quiet for this one, but that it was important enough that they had to attend.

Even the upper brass was, too, with a desk sat in front of a projection screen where Piggot and some others were sitting around, rummaging through papers and writing things down as the last of the personnel walked in.

Seen but not heard.

'Can't say I'm a fan.' Not when he could tell that everyone, from the more senior officers, to the Protectorate heroes, to the rank and file that made up the PRT Headquarters staff was feeling anything different than they were. Because as far as they were concerned, nobody really knew anything.

Well, nothing other than the big mess that happened a couple days ago.

"What a load."

Sophia snorted off to the side, clearly not impressed by the display of concern. But then again, you could be having the toughest day of your life and she would be reacting the same way. Disdain and boredom were emotions he associated with her aura often.

Though there was a hint of anticipation to it.

And excitement.

'What a nutcase.'

Still, she wasn't the only one eager to learn more. How could they not be? After Lung finally got kicked out of the Bay, there was a brief moment where they commemorated not having to deal with him anymore, and without Lung the ABB were all but done for.

But that relief didn't last long.

Not when the one who did it happened to be a complete unknown. They didn't even know what to call this person, or what they were aiming for when taking out Lung.

And apparently that was cleaning up the graveyard.

Barely a day later, they all watched in shock from headquarters as the familiar ships floated weightlessly, sailing through the air inside equally massive bubbles of water which carried them off into the dry ground of the docks. Parking them in a neat pile.

'The world's largest jenga set.'

He doubted this meeting could be about anything other than that.

"Still, isn't it dangerous for us to be here?" Vista piped up, horning into the conversation and taking a seat beside him. Her aura was as uncomfortably bright as always, though it was somewhat dulled by the mood in the room.

"What do you mean?" Their fearless leader questioned, taking his own seat to Gallant's right.

"Well, we are in the middle of the bay, right? If this new cape turns out to be a villain, wouldn't it be super easy for them to just sink the place with us inside? Most of us can't really breathe underwater… or any of us, really."

Well, wasn't that a morbid thought.

Hydrokinesis was a rare enough power that most places weren't exactly made with it in mind. Even then, the only thing in the world capable of controlling water in enough quantities to destroy something as large as a building was Leviathan, and trying to build something that couldn't get sunk by that thing was an exercise in futility.

There was nothing that monster couldn't sink.

Only now, there was the possibility of someone out there being able to do the same things it did.

It explained why everyone was so upset.

Why wouldn't they be?

"Maybe that means they know something we don't? There's got to be a reason why we haven't evacuated headquarters yet." Aegis was ever the optimist, willing to believe that the adults around them knew what they were doing and had all the answers.

Okay, so maybe he was being a bit mean.

Trust was important and he shouldn't judge people on how they felt. But it was hard when the heroes they looked up to and the city relied on just emanated this uncertainty and unease. They needed reassurance as much as the Wards right now and that didn't paint a good picture.

Fortunately for them, it wasn't long until Piggot and the others sitting out front called for the meeting to start.

And everyone's eyes fell on the projector as it came to life, light shooting onto the screen behind them to reveal a… well… he wasn't gonna call it a crappy quality picture, it was clear that whoever bought the camera didn't get their money's worth. The figure barely looked in focus, the most Dean could make out was the clothes, hair color and the fact that she was wearing some kind of mask.

The Director took center stage, her face set in a look of focus and determination.

She felt like it too. Which was frankly more than most of the rest of the crowd, except for maybe Armsmaster and Velocity, maybe.

"Thank you all for coming so promptly, but I'm afraid we'll have to cut the pleasantries short."

With a click of a button, the image on screen zoomed in at the mysterious figure.

"I'm sure we have all witnessed the events that have taken place over the past forty eight hours. Lung's rampage, subsequent exile, and just earlier today a heist involving the wreckage of the graveyard. I won't bother recounting these events, but reference materials have been provided for those of you who wish to review it."

Two aides stood up and began handing out the packets he'd seen earlier.

"The simple truth is that we will be issuing four standing orders as of-" The director checked her watch. "Sixteen minutes from now. As of fourteen hundred, February seventh, of two thousand and eleven, no individual belonging to the Protectorate or the Parahuman Response Team will initiate any form of conflict with the Rogue known as Fontaine. You will not attempt to detain her, arrest her, question her, or in any way escalate a situation with her."

There was an explosion of noise, half the room now speaking to one another and a few loudly protesting - most of the civilian contractors to be precise - and it took the Director staring them down and glaring the argumentative fools back into their seats.

"No, we are not giving her the Lung treatment. She is, in fact, more hands off than Lung." Piggot practically snarled those words and the noise dimmed.

Not in focus, but in shock

"Director Cosa-Brown herself confirmed Thinker projections about Fontaine's abilities and possible damage. Given her demonstrations of power she is more than capable of replicating the disaster of Kyushu. We are not under any circumstances going to push her into that corner."

Dean blinked, for once, speechless.

It was… that much damage? Sure, they had seen some pretty wild stuff from this Fontaine rogue, but to actually compare her to an Endbringer? The realization brought a cold chill to the room as it settled in their minds and emotions ran wild. And for once he couldn't blame them.

'This is huge.'

And not in a good way.

"The second standing order is for the Wards. You are not to engage Fontaine under any circumstances, except to protect yourselves or civilian lives in imminent danger. Once you have secured yourselves, you are to immediately withdraw."

That got noises of agreement from everyone but the Wards themselves.

"Fucking bullshit."

Sophia was the only one to vocalize their protest and she did it with a sneer that was audible in her voice. She glowed with distaste, quite literally in his eyes.

"The third standing order is that if Fontaine approaches any PRT personnel, you are to advise her against committing crimes, you are not to assist her in committing those crimes, and all members of the PRT and full members of the Protectorate are to politely establish a rapport with her if possible. Do not ask questions related to her civilian identity."

That got another rumble of discussion, with Velocity groaning when he realized he was probably going to be getting a personal meeting at some point.

Had he actually talked to this lady?

"And finally, the fourth standing order is thus. In the event of Fontaine carrying out an attack against the city, the priority will be the evacuation of as many personnel as possible, the shut down of the power plant, and the gathering of intelligence for a response team."

No one said anything.

Their own director had just told every man and woman in the room that they would be considered as good as dead if things got serious.

'As if she's an Endbringer.'

Gallant shut his eyes, needing to take several breaths as everyone else in the room began murmuring. Not shouting, not yelling, but murmuring. Friend turned to friend, coworker turned to coworker. Even his teammates began speaking to one another.

Because that was the truth of their situation.

Leviathan could be driven off because huge numbers of capes could rally and prepare. If Fontaine decided to just flood the city, no one there could stop her. At best they could maybe try to fly away or block a wave… but not… stop the attack.

Armsmaster stood up, lifting up off the reinforced chair he'd been sitting in.

"The truth is, we're preparing for the worst. Right now Fontaine has made it clear she wishes to play at being a rogue element, such as by forcing a meeting with the mayor to discuss her long term plans for the city. But that does not mean she will continue as such." He paused, frowning, struggling with his words for a moment. "But at the end of the day, that doesn't mean we'll just roll over and let her take what she wants."

It was hardly a speech of blood and glory, it was a far cry from a promise of anything much. But there was steel in his words. Gallant could see that.

"And we know what the job is." Piggot joined him. "We all know what the chances are that one day we just hit a wall. The Nine, Nilbog, monsters like Lung, too. Right now we've got a shot. So let's not screw it up people."

And that was that.

Grim, fatalistic resolve.

'Perhaps.' The young hero hoped. 'That will be enough.'

He could only hope that, wherever this Fontaine girl was, she wasn't preparing for another outing. For the sake of the city if nobody else. Who knew what kind of terrifying awe inspiring things someone with this much power could do if they put their mind to it?

"That's not enough salt."

"We can always add more later. My dad doesn't like it."

"Your father appears to enjoy his spaghetti with a crunch."

Taylor couldn't help herself, she snorted back a laugh.

Okay, so maybe the watery lady had a point on that one. Dad had always been the kind to cook fast and loose, and by fast she means undercooking a lot of things because he happened to be in a rush or was too afraid to let something overcook and lose good food.

She was like that too, but with way more practice.

Though it was easier these days when she just happened to have such handy powers. She didn't even need to heat up water on the stove top when she could just make it boil with a look, and instead focus on the chopping and cutting while the salad washed itself.

"I didn't think you'd be interested in this kinda thing."

Her powers, taking their usual form of a watery body tilted it's head in confusion.

"Whatever could you mean?"

"Isn't this like… a gross misuse of your powers or something? I half expected you to be upset that I was using them to cook." Taylor grimaced, still rather put off by the idea of just losing her powers because someone else disagreed with what she was doing.

"Well, I hardly see any problem with it. If anything it's refreshing in its novelty. I have heard of those who used their abilities to procure or process ingredients, but I haven't heard of using one's powers in the process of cooking itself."

Well, that was one less problem to worry about.

Although, that actually brought another worry to mind.

"Is it safe to eat if I do it like this?"

"Oh it should be. You are simply making the water boil and moving it over a few vegetables. The only harm there would come from him being allergic to tomatoes or celery."

Well, that was good to know.

She'd hate it if her dad's big dinner got spoiled by parahuman induced diarrhea or something like that.

'He sounded in a good mood when he called.' And that made her stomach do happy flips. Sure, he sounded busy and a bit stressed but there was an energy behind his voice that Taylor hadn't felt in a long time, and the way he explained to her just how much work they had and how he might be having a late dinner tonight made her little plan feel all that sweeter.

Okay, so maybe she did something to favor some people in particular and not just the city itself. But she was sure that dealing with Lung was a big deal for a lot more people too.

So the scales were balanced!

Kinda!

"I'm not sure that's how that argument works, Taylor."

Sure it was, you did something that was kinda illegal but that you knew would help a lot of people that needed it. Then you did something that was only sorta legal, that helped everyone else just to make sure everyone was happy. In her mind it sounded really simple.

There was a soft titter from her watery companion.

"Ah, you would have been such a delight in the courts. I'm sure our Chief Justice would have made it an experience to behold."

And there she went making more cryptic references and allusions to things Taylor didn't know about again. It was like a game at this point, she would offer a little bit of information, Taylor would tug and prod at it, then she would ignore most of the questions and pick the ones she felt like answering.

The fact she answered questions at all was an improvement over most adults in her life, however, so the young woman was at least a little mollified.

"Him being busy also means we'll have the house to ourselves in the meantime."

Yes, there was also that.

She loved dad, but there were things she'd like to discuss and plan that she couldn't work on with him around the house. And even her little hideout was… well… far from a comfortable place to unwind and think about her next steps. And with the docks being swamped with people, it would be hard to move around even if she wanted to go there.

"This is gonna take a few days to blow over. Although it was good we let the mayor know we wouldn't be doing anything else for now."

Focalors hummed to herself, reclining against the miraculously dry couch.

"I predict it will take a few days for the wreckage to start being dismantled in earnest. Our involvement also means the authorities will have an enforced presence, preventing any other scavengers from trying to steal our prize."

It was also probably because of the Mayor.

They… might have spooked him just a smidge. Even if she wasn't really trying to, calling ahead instead of showing up unannounced. He was even helping at the docks, so maybe her first impression hadn't been all that bad.

"Most importantly, it gives us some time to plan ahead and spend some quality time."

The way Focalors said that made a chill run down her spine.

"Yes, about that. Do you have… anything you'd like to do?" The question was loaded and the teenager felt a small sense of dread well up in her gut. Because there was one thing in particular Focalors could use to torment her.

She smiled, as if sensing Taylor's trepidation.

"Well, for starters, we could see about buying some more pieces for our wardrobe. Relying on those old borrowed clothes was a stop gap measure at best, and with all this activity, we're more likely to go unnoticed."

Great.

Clothes shopping.

Just what she wanted to do. In fact, Taylor had to fight back a sigh of exhaustion. Because she was not anything at all like her powers when it came to a deep and fundamental appreciation for fashion. That is to say, Focalors was altogether obsessed with it, "high culture", art, literature, opera, music, and more! And Taylor just wanted to hit bad guys.

At least according to said powers.

"I still say we could have gone with a little more flash when we introduced ourselves. Why, I think there was even a hat we could have borrowed from your father."

Taylor crossed her arms.

"No way. No hats. I told you that before." Because there was no way she was gonna cover up her hair. It was by far the biggest source of her appeal. Without it she might as well be a stick figure.

"You are limiting yourself far too much. Why, give me enough time and some frills…"

Taylor pinched the bridge of her nose as her powers went on another tirade about playing with her family's clothes closet like the teenager was a doll. How did she know so much and why she was so passionate about dressing up their secret identity, Taylor didn't have the faintest idea. But she knew for a fact Focalors was having way too much fun doing it.

Even so, going out didn't seem like a bad idea.

Because she wanted to see how people were reacting, and sure, she could read a few threads on PHO or that one cape hunter blogger but it wouldn't be the same as seeing things with her own eyes. To reassure herself that what she was doing genuinely was appreciated.

"Look, if I promise to spend a couple hours window shopping, will you at least let me ask a couple questions?"

"But Taylor, my dear, sweet, beloved companion, should you not be enjoying the mercantile delights your home's market has to offer?"

"Are you… do you mean the overpriced crap for tourists?"

"Hmph. Well, you may be educating yourself, but I suppose I shall simply have to expand your lessons to culture as well."

"Please don't be a bitch."

"I'm simply trying to get you to expand your horizons."

"Because you're in love with reality television and think it's basically opera?"

"I am not 'in love' with it! I merely stated that there was value in seeing the exaggerations of human emotions and taking lessons from the stories they tell."

"Uhuh."

Her power's mature response was to splash Taylor in the face with ice cold water in a very mature display of grace before her water body dispersed into nothing with an exaggerated huff, leaving the teenager to chuckle and will herself dry with a smile.

She did oh so enjoy her rare victories.

Still going out shopping didn't sound bad. And it wasn't like anyone was going to look for her, so what was the harm?