Investigation 2.4
Once in the washroom, I locked the door behind me and pulled out the four blood samples. The special pouch Chariot had created was able to separate the blood from different individuals into different vials, all while somehow keeping it from drying out. Each vial was numbered but I had no idea which was Alabaster's. I wasn't likely to get powers from any of the civilian samples, unless they were secretly parahumans, but I had to drink them all to see what I could get from the Empire cape.
The first sample went down smoothly, with none of the usual burning. Instead I felt my muscles and skin start to reshape themselves. Within seconds I had a completely new appearance - a portly thirty something black man with a shaved head and close cropped beard. And my skin was actually the color of the original blood donor.
I'm not red!
It took almost a minute, but I was eventually able to revert to my Azim appearance. It seemed the new form was resistant to change.
I drank another vial. This time the involuntary shapeshifting ended with me looking like a slight afro-asian woman in her late twenties. I think this was the bartender. Again my skin was her actual caramel tone. The appearance of her in my Sentinel costume was mildly humorous but bordered on the obscene mostly due to our size differences. I was able to return to my default appearance even with my eyes shut.
The third vial was Alabaster's blood. I felt the painful burning sweep through my body in ripples reminiscent of his power's manifestation. I did not bother to time how long it took for the pain to subside. When it was, my appearance was unchanged. I had wondered if his pigmentation might impact my own, but it did not. I waited almost a minute but there was no sign of his ripple reset effect. I would have to experiment or seek Dr. Grace's input to determine what I had gained from him.
I looked at the last vial and almost stored it for later experimentation, but decided that it would be easy enough to get blood from non-parahuman volunteers within the organization. There was no real reason to hold this blood in reserve. I tried hard to pretend that it was not my thirst driving my decision.
After quaffing the red essence I shifted into a tall, muscular black man in his early twenties, clean shaven with short cropped hair and a prominent jawline. It was our target, Terry Hess. He filled my costume fairly well. I thought this might be a good alternate identity if I could avoid being confused with the original.
When I started to move towards the door, I felt something was off about my body. I felt weak and slow. My internal enhancements were missing, as was my TK field. Quick testing revealed I did not have access to any of my powers when in a normal human form.
I shifted back to Azim and cycled my fire field on and off to incinerate the distracting blood staining my costume before leaving the washroom.
Opening the door I was struck on the chest by a police woman. She had been about to pound on the door when I stepped through, intercepting her first swing. She jumped back. Her hand dropped to her service pistol, but managed to stop herself before she drew on me.
"Sentinel?" she inquired nervously.
"Yes. My apologies for my absence on your arrival. I'd imagine you need a statement." I had raised my hands to look less threatening.
"The PRT does," she agreed. Stepping back she allowed me room to move out of the small corridor and back into the main saloon.
The bar had become more crowded while I had been otherwise occupied. There were men and women in both BBPD and PRT uniforms. The police were interviewing witnesses and gathering evidence, while the PRT were transporting the Empire members into waiting transports. EMTs were just beginning to treat or transport the injured customers after the police had talked with them.
As I was walking toward Yeoman, a motorcycle pulled up and a tall, broad white man dressed in a golden body suit with metal accents and a lion's head helmet dismounted. I recognized him from my study of the local capes - Triumph of the Protectorate.
"It's good to see you again, Yeoman," the young hero said as he approached. After one unhappy glance my way, he seemed to be ignoring me.
"Triumph." Yeoman's response was tepid at best, leading me to wonder what their relationship had been while serving together in the Wards.
The PRT troops seemed to be waiting for his arrival. They marched Alabaster forward. He was secured in more substantial restraints than the zip ties Yeoman had used, but her gag was still in place. Triumph took one sneering look at the villain, then nodded decisively. "Take him away."
"Good work," the golden hero said to Yeoman. "But you always were one of the best."
"It was Sentinel that captured Alabaster," the young woman replied then made the overlooked introduction. "Sentinel, this is Triumph."
"Nice to meet you," I offered, holding out my hand.
He stared at me deadpan for a moment then, with apparent reluctance, took my hand. He bore down, slowly increasing the pressure until it would have shattered a normal human's bones.
"Always glad to have another hero helping out in Brockton Bay," he drawled, no sign of his efforts to be found in his voice.
Based on the force he was producing I estimated his strength was roughly equivalent to my natural strength, that is when not boosted by my TK. This put him at lifting nearly a ton. I was able to reinforce my hand so he did no real damage. Eventually he noticed Yeoman watching our silent struggle with a look of disgust on her masked face and relented.
I pulled my hand back once he released it. I felt a ripple flow through my hand and the pain quickly subsided. I assumed this was my version of Alabaster's regeneration at work. Something new for Dr. Grace to test.
"Have you been working with Yeoman long?" Triumph asked.
"Haven't you read the reports?" She chided. "Sentinel is part of the new hero team Sanctuary. I'm helping out with an investigation."
"Not sure why you'd want to play in the bush leagues when you've got a spot in the majors." The leonine hero shook his head.
"I don't have the time or energy to go over this with you again," Yeoman replied, her voice tense. "I've told you my reasons. Just because you don't agree with them doesn't make them any less valid to me."
"But ..." he started.
"Are you here by yourself?" She cut him off. "I thought you were too new to patrol alone."
"I'm not patrolling," he replied, indignance plain in his tone. "I'm responding to a call from an independent hero. Making sure proper procedures are followed in the arrest of a parahuman suspect. Have you read him his rights?"
"That's not how it works, remember?" she replied. "Independent heroes may arrest and temporarily detain suspects apprehended in the commision of a felony or misdemeanor. But processing of the suspect and more permanent detention are the responsibility of the appropriate law enforcement agencies. In other words - book him, Lion-O!"
I could swear I actually heard him growl, deep in his throat, before he turned on his heel and stalked away.
"Ass," Yeoman muttered low enough I might not have heard it if not for my enhanced ears.
"While I'm assuming there is a long and likely unhappy story there, I will not ask," I said.
"You have no idea," she replied then shook her head, as if dislodging a particularly bothersome fly. "I was able to get in a few words with Terry Hess before he was released."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, while you were cleaning up in the can," she nodded. "Didn't have much to say. Only that Sophia was too stupid and too stubborn to just run away. Instead he thinks she's likely to stick around to get revenge on everyone she thinks betrayed her. And to show everyone that she's too badass to leave town."
"She's already killed the Barnes father and daughter, as well as attacking the Clements, so he's not wrong there," I said. "But who's left to attack?"
"The Wards. The Protectorate. The PRT Director. The Winslow Principal and maybe the teachers? Who knows? It depends on how she thinks. And second guessing a psychopath is never easy."
Yeoman started leading me towards her car. It was parked outside of the police tape, surrounded by media and onlookers. "Great," she muttered. "I don't suppose you can just pick up the car and carry it over to someplace the road is clear? Otherwise we are gonna have a hell of a time getting out of here."
"I think I can, but aren't the crowd just going to follow us?" I queried.
"Maybe some will, but most are smart enough to stay back when capes start juggling cars. They don't want to get one dropped on them. But you'll make PHO and maybe the news."
"That should please our benefactor," I replied. "Investigation aside, I think one of the primary reasons we are out here is to be seen doing good."
"Hmm."
We moved towards the car and the crowd parted before us. I reached down to grab the vehicle by the frame, looking for the points you would use to secure a jack when changing the tire. My TK would let me lift the car without tearing parts off, but the car weighed too much for me to lift with just my power. In order to effectively leverage my physical enhancements I needed to have a grip that would bear the weight of the whole vehicle.
Once I had the needed hold I lifted with my knees and my mind and the car rose easily. Inside loose items rattled as they fell towards the passenger side. I hoped nothing would be too damaged.
The crowd moved back, cameras in hand, as I stepped forwards. Several steps later we were clear of the onlookers and I set the car down carefully.
"Thanks," Yeoman said, "Now get in and let's go."
Once we were clear of the neighborhood I asked, "Would it be easier to talk with the Barnes if I looked more normal?"
"Yeah," she said. "We could even get out of costume and go as a pair of normal P.I.s. But you already said you can't do that."
"Sometimes things change," I offered. "How about this?" I changed into Terry's form.
She quickly pulled into an alley and parked. "What the FUCK!"
"I'm a shapechanger, among other powers, and was able to master this form after the fight."
"That's why you were hiding in the toilet," she deduced.
"Something like that," I agreed.
"Well, if we can come up with some clothes for you we could go as norms. More likely to get something out of them if we do. You have anything or can you shapeshift your clothes?"
"Neither, unfortunately."
"Well there's one of those new Helping Hands thrift stores over on Jackson we could stop at," Yeoman considered. "Might even get an employee discount."
After a quick stop Yeoman was able to procure a worn grey suit and faux leather black trench coat more or less Terry's size while I hid in a dead end alley. Even as deserted as the location was I felt too exposed while changing clothes and forms.
"Looks good." She was wearing her older P.I. outfit, complete with a slightly different face. "Let's go. I called ahead. Zoe Barnes is not available, but her daughter Anne is. She'll meet us at their house."
"Very well," I replied. "Shall we proceed?"
"Any way you can talk more American?" Yeoman asked. "You sound like something out of Henry James or 1001 Nights."
"I rather doubt it. Some things I cannot change."
"Yeah, ain't that the truth," she muttered. I got the impression Yeoman was used to working alone and had developed the habit of talking to herself. This thought prompted a question. "What should I call you in your current form? I assume that Yeoman would be inappropriate."
"You can call me Betty and I'll call you Bob."
"I'd rather you call me Youssef," I countered. "Perhaps I could call you Elizabeth? It's a noble name."
"How about we compromise with Liz?"
"Very well."
We got caught in traffic which did nothing for my companion's disposition. After fifteen minutes I realized her grumblings had moved past the road works that were causing the delays and circled back to maligning the Protectorate hero we had crossed paths with earlier in the day.
Eventually I could no longer hold in my curiosity. "So ... Triumph?"
"What?" She looked at me, a faint blush coloring her features. "You heard that. He's an ass."
"In general or is there a specific complaint you have against him?"
"Both!" She released a sardonic chuckle. "We were in the Wards together for almost two years. I don't think he stopped hitting on me during that whole time. Didn't matter how often I turned him down or told him I just wasn't interested in any sort of romance, he just never believed me. I mean he's Triumph! His daddy is ..." She paused for a moment then continued. "How could any girl not want to throw themselves into his bed? In or out of costume that guy is an over-privileged, entitled, self-absorbed ... ass!"
"But how do you really feel?"
"Like he's about twenty-seven percent of the reason I dropped out of the Protectorate when I came of age. He was only a few months behind me and I had no desire to continue on the same team as him."
"I won't ask about the other seventy three percent," I assured her.
"You realize that's just a weaselly way to ask without asking." The look she gave me was not overly friendly. "As for why ... You ever see the costume they wanted to put me in once I moved to the Protectorate?"
"No."
"Barely more than an armored bikini." She pounded on the steering wheel. "Worse than the Enforcers wear, I swear to god. The perverts online had a countdown going since I was fifteen - how many days until I turned legal. And once I turned eighteen, there was an actual bounty out for nude pics of me. Glenn Chambers was the one pushing for the whole adult heroine in the skimpy costume idea. He was drooling over the increased Q rating. I refused to be sexualized and commodified like that."
"So you left," I said, "and rightly so, it seems to me."
"Damn straight," she replied, finally cooling down. "I swear Triumph, or his father who's an even bigger perv, probably contributed thousands to the nude bounty. It's still out there too. So forgive me if I don't like the creep."
"As I said, rightly so."