Missy was dreading the weekend. She always was, of course. During the week, she had her routine keeping her busy. She had to go to school, she had to do her homework, she had to go on patrol, she had to go for some extra training, she had to pull console duty. And granted, school and homework and console duty weren't fun exactly, but it was certainly better than weekends. Every weekend was simultaneously the days she had the most time available to devote herself to protecting the Bay, and the days when her parents fought the hardest to keep her away from it - regardless of whose week it was. They fought to spend time with her more to show up each other than because they actually cared. She'd suffer through it because...well it's not like she was allowed to do anything else.
This weekend was shaping up to be worse than usual, though. For starters, there'd been something big on the news today, about the gangs and the part of the docks where all those old ships were gathering rust. The director had scheduled an important meeting for this afternoon, and every cape under her command was required to attend - which was eating into the last bit of patrol time she'd have for the next few days. But the biggest thing is that everyone had seemed on edge lately, and wouldn't say why...not that figuring it out was very hard. Shadow Stalker was on Piggot's shitlist for some reason, Armsmaster wouldn't explain other than to say it was need-to-know information, and everybody and their mother had gotten a bug up their ass about M/S code phrases and check-ins. It didn't take a Thinker to see what was going on: Sophia had some kind of run-in with a Master/Stranger, got in over her head without a team to back her up cuz that was her specialty, and now the PRT was seeing ghosts around every corner.
What was galling is that it was as likely as not that the other girl hadn't even run into a Master/Stranger; maybe she'd gotten caught on one of her solo-patrols she thought nobody knew about, claimed she was mastered into running around town beating up Nazis, and the PRT overreacted like they always did. For pity's sake, they'd had a meeting just like this upcoming one about a cereal toy back when she first joined up. As if it were plausible some factory foreman at General Mills had triggered as a Master/Tinker and was putting plastic hypno rings in random boxes of Captain Crunch.
She gave her M/S codephrase for the third time since entering the building and entered the large office room always reserved for all-hands meetings like this. Most of the Protectorate was already in attendance, since this was their day-job, and Piggot was here too - great, she always made every interaction sooo much fun. Most of the other Wards had beaten her here; Triumph was being the model Wards leader - so, pretending to be serious and adult so hard he was just being boring - while the other boys were all discussing some dumb video game.
"-ike can you imagine if you had something like that for the mods too? Switching weapons and ammo types is hardly anything new, but weapon upgrades are a different story. Imagine switching from a heatsink barrel that can handle autofire to a longer barrel for sniping." Even Gallant wasn't immune to the clarion call of pixels, it seemed. "Or the energy weapons, one battery that focuses on conserving ammo for making lots of weak shots to deal with a crowd, and another battery that drains way faster but the bolts hit harder." Sophia stalked into the room and fell into her usual table at the far end from the adults - both to keep an eye on everybody, and to keep an eye on the door. Not that Vista had to worry about getting caught from behind; she'd feel an area she couldn't warp from that direction long before some would-be attacker reached the door, and who would even dare to attack the Rig anyway?
Back with the boys, Clock was skeptical. "It's still the FO3 system, though, and energy weapons are terrible because it takes a year to get one to good condition and they've got no damage until they're fixed. Once bitten, twice shy is all I'm saying, right Win?" He glanced over at Kid Win, who seemed to be staring into the middle distance. "...uh, Earth Bet to Chris, you there buddy? We don't need to call M/S on you do we?" Ugh, he was joking around about this? Even if it was nothing, Dennis could be such an idiot sometimes.
It seemed Armsmaster agreed, if the edge on his tone was any indication. "That's everyone. Cut the chatter, eyes up." A few button-presses on his gauntlet, and the projector shuttered into motion. The image of a woman wearing a tuxedo suit, tophat, and mask came into view. "The subject of today's meeting: the individual we've been referring to internally as Mandrake. Mandrake has been active since very early in the year, and has not been very subtle in her public appearances. Mandrake is a particularly strong grab-bag cape."
Click. A news report from late that morning. Footage of gangbangers in saggy jeans and PPE were busy cleaning up the piles of trash that had long been since left to fester in the Boat Graveyard. "Master 7, human-affecting via audible and electronic mediums." Standard advice for fighting Masters was to minimize effect vectors with the enemy while keeping eyes-on with your team. A master effect affecting people via text meant harsh limits on phone use, and probably anything online being locked down hard for the foreseeable future. That people could creatively interpret her commands and lies did little to make Missy feel better.
Click. Another security camera. This featured what appeared to be Victor, appearing from midair before seeming to peel his whole costume off, revealing Mandrake underneath. The now-discarded costume disappeared, with Mandrake herself following suit shortly after. "Stranger 4, can steal identities, can become invisible and inaudible." Standard advice: keep eyes-on whenever possible. She'd have a chaperone everywhere she went, now.
Click. Cell phone video of one of Mandrake's conversations with a group of ABB. It started with her being chased over the rooftops by Stalker, and she was practically flying away from the girl. She did something Vista didn't quite see and almost froze in place at the edge of a building before proceeding to walk straight down like gravity was optional. "Mover 2, Slip/Hurdle variety." Standard advice for Movers: box them in, making it harder to avoid Master vectors in-person.
Click. An interview with Glory Girl about how Mandrake cut her way through a small army of Crusader's ghosts. "Tentative Striker 3." Standard advice for Strikers was to give them plenty of space, making it harder to keep eyes-on or box them in.
Click. The image of a girl. High school age, tall, skinny, long brown hair, glasses. Plain. This time, it was the Director who spoke up. "Taylor Hebert. Suspected identity of Mandrake, due to initial reports, although we're still uncertain. This is not us telling you how to find her out-of-costume, this is us telling you how to avoid her outside of costume. If you see this person, there's good odds they're Mandrake, and you need to make an excuse to leave and avoid all chance of being affected. You're not to engage her in-costume, and that goes double for out-of-costume. The former may change once we've got more thorough procedures for engagement that the Protectorate has put to the test. Until then, stay alert, keep eyes-on when possible, and report anything suspicious."
Vista hesitated before raising her hand. At the sharp looks, she hastened. "I can't be entirely sure it's relevant, but since we're not sure about Mandrake's identity...there's a girl in my class, Dinah Alcott. She lost a relative to cancer over the break, I think. Ever since winter break ended, she's been seeing the nurse for migraines like every other day. It might be unrelated but still something worth our attention, but she could be a Projection Master."
"Possible but unlikely. Projections tend towards Brute/Mover, not Master/Stranger. Still..." Armsmaster trailed off, glancing at Triumph.
"...I'll see what I can find out," the Ward leader replied.
"Any other questions?" Armsmaster asked the room.
Gallant raised his hand. "We're not sticking with Mandrake, right? Beyond the PR problems of giving the next Heartbreaker the name of the first superhero, I don't imagine legal would be very happy with us for getting WB's ire. If we're looking for a magician connection, there's some old poems about cats, and the tuxedo cat is made out to be like a stage magician. Mistoffelees?" Vista thought it was a fine enough choice.
Armsmaster disagreed, though. "There's a popular play featuring the character in a heroic capacity as well, and the name gestures towards religious connections best avoided if we don't want to provoke a response from Haven. Plus, it's a bit more...whimsical than the subject warrants."
Vista spoke up, in partial defense of Gallant's idea. "The play's got another magical cat, and one that's pretty villainous. Macavity. Not as weird as Mistoffelees when you read it either."
The room was quiet for a few moments as everyone mulled it over. "Seems acceptable. Macavity it is," Piggot replied. "Should avoid getting us in trouble with anyone in particular, and doesn't put a silly name on a very serious problem."
Clockblocker raised his hand. "I figure you'd mention this if it was considered, but...maybe a Tinker? The whole getup is so impractical, and the sword tore right through Crusader. Maybe Breaker is a red herring."
"Unlikely," this time, it was Assault that spoke up, surprisingly; Armsmaster looked distracted, and was tapping away at his gauntlet. He'd been pretty quiet. "Intel boys are usually pretty good at figuring out when there's a new tinker in town on account of keeping an eye on a lot of places where rarer materials are kept, as well as eyeing the junkyards and the docks for anybody doing excessive scavenging."
"Excessive scavenging, like mastering a hundred dudes into slicing up boats in the Bay and trucking them off somewhere?"
"If she's a Tinker," Armsmaster interrupted, "Then she's one who's only just gotten started. Her existing capabilities are almost certainly not due to tinkering, though."
From the earbud in her speakers came a robotic voice - something reading from her phone. Vista tensed unconsciously; that required an override code, so it was trustworthy, but this whole meeting had her on edge. "Security just caught Gallant entering the building. He claimed to have locked in the restroom at school without his phone or keys. He provided M/S passwords and demonstrated his power for the guards on duty. Be ready to apprehend the one in this room on my signal."
Vista very carefully kept her eyes on Armsmaster, even as she felt out Gallant's position with her power sense. Had he always been that tall? She suddenly wasn't sure. He was taller than her, but everybody was. Vista wasn't looking at them, but with her power she could practically feel everyone in the room getting tense. Everyone except Gallant. Even if he were the real Gallant and the fake was outside, Armsmaster would never have texted the one in here, so it made sense he was calm. Except the real Gallant would sense everybody's emotions, and would be getting nervous himself. Then again, he worked hard to not let the emotions he was sensing affect his behavior, in part to avoid giving away to the public he could sense emotions. Which one was Macavity, Gallant or Armsmaster. Or maybe the text hadn't been sent by the older cape, and had gotten to her phone by other means. That would indicate a major security breach. All to tweak their nose over how paranoid they were? In the end...if this was Gallant, he'd forgive her.
"Now."
Velocity blurred, Clockblocker lunged, Vista warped space to keep Macavity in her chair. But it didn't matter; Macavity was faster than all of them, somehow. She flicked a pen maybe a tenth of a second before her field was in place, and it hit the light switch, plunging the whole room into darkness. Abruptly, the space where he'd been seemed to no longer be occupied by a person, according to her power. The lights were on again less than a second after they switched off...
...but Macavity wasn't there.