Quest

by Kahlil Johnson

Uhhhh

24. Pro22

Here's an omake to expand upon the last chapter where we followed Emmy and Tay and also set up for the next interlude. Be gentle, it's my first omake.

Diplomatic Immunity 17.7.5 (Overdue Conversations)

"Well, that was a thing, I guess." Emmy said as he walked out of a gap and into the Heap's kitchen, before making a beeline for the fridge.

"Ughh. Please don't tell anyone about that. I don't think I'll ever be able to use the tower without fear of messing up like that again." Taylor groaned as she plopped down on one of the chairs around the kitchen table while massaging her temples.

"Bah, you're fiiiine." Emmy's arm popped out of the fridge and waved her off, before disappearing alongside the rest of his torso back inside the suspiciously deep fridge. Faintly, she could hear the sounds of bottles and tupperware being shoved around, as if from a great distance away. Looks like she needs to have another talk with Mem about why using Primordial Runes to enchant random house appliances without telling anyone is a bad idea. She'd rather avoid another repeat of the toaster incident.

"Y'know, I honestly expected that whole ordeal to turn out way worse than it did. Somehow, you only ended up reviving thousands of dead people and giving yourself a whole bunch of new kids to look after." Emmy sassed at her as he resurfaced from the cavernous kitchen appliance, a bottle in each hand.

"Ehh, not really. Just the two, to be honest" She made a so-so gesture with her hand. "Gram and Yew are the only ones that are bound to me like Mem and Simone are. Mainly because they were the only ones within the ritual circle's area and soaked up the brunt of the spell's energy. The rest of them were outside the circle and too far away for that to happen, so they're unbound. I don't think they'll consider me their mom like the bound ones do."

"Well, at least you won't have to pay child support for all of them. Happy little accidents, eh?" Emmy smiled sarcastically as he flicked the beer bottle's cap off and took a large swig while absent-mindedly tossing her the other one.

She snorted as she casually caught the bottle in one hand. Apple cider, ah well. "Pffft. Try telling that to Piggot. Woman's gonna have my hide."

"Nahh, you're overthinking things. They already had you under contract for doing this whole thing in the first place. You simply did it a lot faster than anticipated. As if they could even be mad at you for bringing back thousands of capes who died defending the world from the big bad monsters. Besides, it's not like anyone other than Piggot and a handful of people at the very top of the PRT hierarchy even know it was you. They'll just slap another case number on it and file it under 'weird inexplicable magic crap' to cover for you." Emmy said as he leaned back on the chair and put his feet on the table. Rude.

Taylor hummed in thought as she took a sip of her apple cider. "Well, I suppose so. This guy got a lot of experience dealing with 'weird inexplicable magic crap'?"

"Oh, tons. Well, more like weird inexplicable demon magic crap, but same thing, really." Emmy shrugged.

Taylor rolled her eyes. "I really don't think it works that way. I should know, what with having 5 different kinds of magic by now and none of them being alike."

"You see enough magic crap, you eventually start to file it all under the same category." Emmy shrugged with a sigh, seemingly casting his mind back into the past.

Taylor raised an eyebrow at that. "What's the deal with this guy, anyway? I get that he's part demon and he's pretty strong and all, but still, what's up with him? Seriously, I mean."

Emmy paused mid swig at that, before raising his eyebrows in surprise. "...Huh. I guess we never did sit down and talk about that. Things have been kinda hectic lately."

"Yeah, that's one way to put it." Taylor snorted before taking a swig of her cider.

"Ah, well. I guess it's about time I explain this whole thing, anyway." Emmy sighed as he took his feet off the table and sat up on the chair, beer forgotten off on the side.

Taylor perked up at that. "Oh? We finally doing this? Alright then." She said before scooting her chair closer and placing her bottle on the table as well.

"Okay! So!" Emmy said as he slapped his hands on the table. "Name's Dante, son of Sparda and Eva. This guy runs a demon hunting-slash-private investigator business back in his home reality. Even if he only actually takes cases occasionally, just enough to pay the rent… most of the time. Still, gotta say, he's pretty damn good at it. Hell, I'd even go so far as to say he's the best there is, at least in his world. Ended a few demon invasions, killed God and sealed his stony ass back into Hell, stopped a few apocalypses too, and even saved the world a couple of times over the years."

Taylor simply stared at him, baffled. "...Really? Just like that? You're not even gonna elaborate on that?" She deadpanned.

"Well, it's not as simple as that, no." Emmy chuckled. "How about I take it from the top, then? I'll tell you the tale the same way a good Lady friend of mine used to tell it. The legend of Sparda." He smirked and leaned in, placing his elbows on the table and crossing his arms.

Taylor, sensing the gravity of the situation, leaned in as well, an intrigued expression on her face.

"Long ago, in ancient times, a demon rebelled against his own kind for the sake of the human race…"

By the time Emmy finished the tale, Taylor sat with a pensive expression on her face, seemingly mulling over what she had learned as she absent-mindedly ran a hand over Nemesis' hair, who had popped in to sit on Taylor's lap at some point to listen to the tale as well, before falling asleep.

"So… Let me get this straight." She began. "Hell exists in this guy's world, and God is a giant marble statue of a three-eyed bearded man, who is also a demon that ruled over the endless armies of every single dimension of Hell and used them to enslave mankind."

"Pretty much, yeah." Emmy nodded along.

"And your dad…" she continued, pointing at him "...was one of his lieutenants, who decided to rebel against him to fight for humanity, and then went on to single-handedly beat the crap out of the entirety of Hell so hard that even after two thousand years, both humans and demons are still singing legends about him, like he's some kind of demon Jesus." Taylor said, staring pointedly at him.

"The old man was pretty impressive, yeah." Emmy nodded with a smirk, arms crossed.

"So after he solo'd all of Hell." She stressed, seemingly ignoring his idle comment to focus on that. "He used one of his three conceptual magic demon swords to cut the connection between the human and demon world for a couple thousand years."

"I mean, he didn't just cut- Well, actually… he did cut it with the Yamato- But there was a whole complicated sealing ritual involved! And a demon tower!" He exclaimed.

"A demon tower." Taylor raised an eyebrow in response.

"Yup! Temen-ni-gru. Eventually it resurfaced and started pouring demons out into the human world. But that was its own whole thing. First time I saved the world, too." Emmy nodded proudly, as if that explained everything.

Taylor stared at him, before deciding to move on. "Anyways. After all that, your dad met your mom, fell in love, had you and your brother, and gave each of you one of his super sick and cool swords, before disappearing off into space with the last sword or whatever."

"Yup." Emmy replied.

"Ah, that's a shame. I would've liked to meet him." She pouted, before perking up. "And the one you have wouldn't just happen to be the one that cuts the barriers of conceptual reality like wet tissue paper, would it?"

"'Fraid not. That'd be my brother's."

"Well, that sucks…" She grumbled under her breath.

"I'll have you know that my sword is just as good as his. They're a paired set, you see. What his can do, mine can do the opposite of, and vice versa." Emmy explained, before pausing. "Or, well… at least in theory, I guess." Emmy said, scratching the back of his head.

"In theory." Taylor gave him a look.

"Hey! Give me a break! I only figured out that it works that way a few weeks ago!" Emmy exclaimed in indignation.

"...Right. Well, might as well visit this guy's world at some point. Seems pretty cool. What did you say your brother's name was again?" She asked idly.

"Oh, Vergil."

"Verg-" Taylor froze, seemingly still for a few seconds, before closing her eyes. She slowly heaved a deep breath, tilting her head upwards as if to draw strength from the heavens.

"You're kidding me." She breathed out.

"What?" Emmy looked at her oddly.

"Dante. Vergil. Hell. Demons. I'm an idiot, it's Dante's Inferno." Taylor groaned as she slowly dragged her hands through her face. "This guy and his entire world is literally just an action movie adaptation of Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy. I can't even. Why."

Emmy laughed at her. Laughed! "Well, I can't say I've heard about it, but it can't be weirder than the Greek Gods being spaceships, right?" He smirked playfully at her.

Taylor threw her hands in the air, exasperated. "This again? Of course it can't! There is nothing out there in this vast and ridiculous multiverse that could possibly be weirder than that! But this is still pretty up there for me, you know?! Because I can still remember actually reading the Divine Comedy back with my mom. Needless to say, I didn't expect Dante to be an unwashed hobo that goes around shooting demons with a gun while wearing leather boots and a red overcoat!" She exclaimed while pointing accusingly at him, seemingly offended by this emulation's very existence.

"Hey! That hurts my feelings, you know! So what if a few of my emulations are weird versions of historical figures? I don't remember you objecting this much to Sigurd's existence!" Emmy complained right back.

"Well, yeah! Because Sigurd was- was… Ugh, you know what, I'm not even gonna answer that one. Nope." She turned away with a frustrated pout on her face.

"Hmmrrrghh… Shut up already! I can't even sleep without you idiots getting into a shouting match with each other! Ugh!" Nemesis exclaimed as she woke up from her nap in Taylor's lap, before violently shifting back into sword form.

"Oh, crap. Sorry, kid. My bad." Emmy raised his arms in apology.

"Sorry, Nem. Forgot you were there. I'll get you something nice to eat later, don't worry." Taylor patted her handle reassuringly, getting a satisfied rumble from the sword in return before it went still, seemingly asleep again.

Taylor sighed before turning back to Emmy. "Well, where were we? Something about your dad's swords? What happened to the third one, anyways?"

Emmy nodded "Right, funny you mention that. See, thing is, I actually have it."

"Wait, really?!" Taylor startled, an excited expression on her face.

"Yes. Sorta. It's complicated." Emmy made a so-so gesture with his hand. "Remember the demon tower thing? Well, essentially, when pops sealed Hell off, he used a bunch of things to do it."

He leaned back and listed off with his hand. "The souls of seven powerful demons, the blood of a priestess, his sword, which contained most of his power, a special amulet, and seven gatekeepers he imprisoned to guard the tower as well. Some of them were actually friendly, even! Y'know, once I beat them and they stopped trying to kill me." As he said this, he absent-mindedly summoned different weapons onto the table. A set of three frozen nunchucks linked by a chain, a pair of orange and cyan serrated blades with odd heads on their pommels, and a dark purple and very sharp electric guitar.

"Demons can be friendly?" Taylor leaned in and eyed the demonic armaments with open curiosity.

"Indeed they can, if you prove yourself worthy." One of the serrated blades replied to her in a deep, conversational tone, making her jump back into her chair.

"Quiet, you." Emmy hushed in annoyance, knocking the sword's pommel against the table, before turning back to her and making a so-so gesture. "Well, sorta, but not really. Yes, there are a few genuinely nice demons like my dad out there, but they're the exception, not the rule." He shrugged in a 'what can you do' gesture.

"Usually, you have to force them to be nice, or prove yourself to them. You see, pure demons are pretty big on the whole 'might makes right' mentality. Law of the jungle and all that nonsense. So if you actually beat them, you can either take their souls and turn them into devil arms, or they'll respect and acknowledge your strength and become your minions. If you don't beat them though, they'll probably just try to kill you, eat you, or take your soul and blood to use for some dark ritual. Obviously, Dante always kept his devil arms in weapon form, but I guess his dad collected a couple minions along the way." He shrugged, before eyeing the purple guitar suspiciously. "...A couple of groupies too, I suppose."

At that, the electric guitar seemed to almost purr mischievously, before going quiet.

Emmy grumbled under his breath, before dismissing the pile of demonic weaponry lying on the table.

"So that's what all the giant demons helping us beat the Grimm back on Remnant were? All the devil arms you have, manifested into their original forms? Oh, I guess that also explains what you did to Uber back then, too." Taylor mused with a hand on her chin.

"Quite so. Granted, the real Dante would've never let his devil arms run wild, but I can be a little more flexible than that, in the right occasion." Emmy smirked.

"Wait, but Uber wasn't a demon, so how come you turned him into a devil arm anyways? Neither was Salem, now that I think about it." Taylor tilted her head in confusion.

"Well, thing is, my version of that ability is a little different from Dante's, because there aren't any actual demons around to use it on, at least to my knowledge, and I'm not dumb enough to waste time giving you a power that you can't even use in the first place." Emmy scoffed, before pointing at her and explaining. "The version that I passed onto you works on any sufficiently powerful non-human entity. Obviously, there's some caveats as to what's generally considered 'non-human'. But basically, anything human-adjacent is off the table. You can't turn Blake or Po into devil arms, for example. It only works on big bad monsters, and whatever it was that Uber drank made him monstrous enough for the ability to work." He shrugged at her in a 'what can you do?' gesture.

"Ah, I see. Fair enough, then." Taylor nodded thoughtfully.

"Also, that means you could, in theory, turn Behemoth into a pair of boots. That is, if you actually manage to beat him in the first place." He quipped at her.

Taylor simply raised her eyebrows in surprise at that. "Huh. Well, I don't know about boots specifically, but that is actually pretty cool."

Emmy grinned before switching topics. "Anyways, we kinda got sidetracked there. You wanted to know about Sparda's swords, right?"

Taylor nodded. "Yes, that."

Emmy sighed dramatically. "Well, as I was saying, dad split off his power and used a couple other things to seal Hell away, which also left his sword and most of said power stuck on the other side. The key to the seal was a special amulet that our mom split into two and gave each half to me and my brother. Some years after mom died and my brother disappeared, he came back with a new friend named Arkham, beat my ass up and stole my half of the amulet to open the gate to Hell, because he wanted dad's power for himself."

"That's rough, buddy." Taylor patted his hand consolingly.

Emmy sorted at that. "Heh. Long story short, we fought, he beat me, I killed a lot of demons, we fought again, Arkham betrayed him and stole the amulets from us while we were weak, used them to open the gate to Hell and stole dad's sword for himself. We chased after him, killed some more demons, teamed up to stop him, kicked his ass out of Hell, and we fought over the sword again, because my dear brother still wanted dad's power." He said sarcastically.

"Sounds like your brother was a little obsessed." Taylor huffed.

"Oh, absolutely. Mom's death hit him really hard, and he just blamed himself for being too weak and became obsessed with power." Emmy nodded in agreement. "Anyways, I beat him, got the sword, and he got his half of the amulet back. The gate was collapsing because we had separated the amulets, so I had to leave, but he decided to stay in Hell. Jumped off a cliff and ran off to try and kill the king of Hell on his own to spite me, or live up to dad's legacy, or to save his pride, or something." He shrugged at that.

"I take it didn't go well for him?" Taylor mused.

Emmy snorted. "Nope. Years later, I met him again while on a job. A gal named Trish had contacted me to investigate an island that Mundus, the three-eyed asshole my dad fought, was using to stage his return. When I met my brother, Mundus had corrupted him into his minion, and, surprise surprise, we fought."

"Y'know, I'm starting to notice a pattern here."

"Yeah, yeah. Thick as thieves, my brother and I." He chuckled, before straightening up and continuing. "So, after fighting him a whole bunch, I eventually managed to get his half of the amulet back and…"

After a long retelling of history, arguments about demonic entities and their abilities, the ethics of gathering power, the importance of family and one's humanity, and agreeing to help Nero if they ever visited his world, they reached this point.

Emmy sat, arms crossed and with a smug expression on his face as Taylor boggled at the sword on the table.

"So you're telling me..." She began, lips suddenly dry as she stared intensely at Devil Sword Dante. "That this sword…" she pointed at it. "...is in fact two swords, combined into one. One of those two swords has the conceptual power to combine with other swords, which, despite you owning it for your entire life, have only just figured out that it can do that, barely a week before this guy got emulated. The other one of those two swords is also, in fact, another sword, combined with the two amulets that open the actual gate to Hell, which, also, contains the entirety of your dad's power. Your dad, the legendary knight who beat every single demon in Hell. On his own. With this sword. That you now have. On this table." Taylor stressed, a look of hunger in her eyes.

She took a deep breath before continuing. "And on top of all of that, it has the power to summon even more swords that you can control with your mind. And not only that, but this sword is also the key to becoming a 'King of Hell'." Her voice took on a slightly unhinged tone near the end.

"Got it in one." Emmy nodded sagely at her, before pausing to rub his chin in thought. "Well, actually…"

Taylor leaned over the table, staring unblinkingly at him and breathing heavily. "Yes…?"

"Now that I think about it, I don't think Rebellion had the power to combine with other swords." Emmy mused.

"Oh."

"It probably just had the power to combine with anything." He surmised.

"Oh."

"See, Rebellion and Yamato are supposed to be two sides of the same coin. And Vergil had always used Yamato to cut anything. Demons, buildings kilometers away, Hell gates, demon trees tall enough to reach into the edge of the atmosphere, the air, his own soul, space itself, the fabric of reality." Emmy mused, gesticulating with his hand. "If Rebellion has the opposite power, then I guess it probably has just as many uses. Well, Devil Sword Dante now." He shrugged in indifference.

Taylor stared at him, trying to calm her breathing in silence for a minute, before scooting her chair closer.

"And you haven't given me this sword yet because…?" She asked leadingly, staring intensely at him.

"It's on the list." Emmy nodded, as if that explained everything.

"The list."

"I have a mental list to keep track of all the stuff I want to pass on to you before this emulation expires. The sword is on the list." He explained, nodding his head at it.

"Ah. Well. Okay then." She agreed easily, before turning back to stare at the sword on the table with a manic look in her eyes.

"...Wouldn't Nemesis disagree with you getting another sword?" Emmy raised an eyebrow at her.

"On any other case? Yes, she would. Hard. But this sword is the sword that fuses with other swords to make better, stronger swords. I think this might be quite literally the only sword in existence that she wouldn't object to, on account of it being more of an upgrade for her instead of just another sword. Well, at least if I manage to combine them like you did with yours, which may or may not work. But still, it is far too useful to pass up, I want it." She stressed, pointing at it, before sighing and leaning back on her chair.

"You really like swords, huh?" Emmy wondered aloud.

"Yes."

"Alright then." Emmy replied, uncapping his third bottle since the conversation started.

"You know…" he mused out loud before taking a swig. "This whole conversation has me wondering something I don't think the real Dante ever thought about."

"Hm? Which is?" Taylor raised an eyebrow.

"In all of the legends, Sparda only ever had one sword. Yet, after splitting his power and sealing it away alongside Hell, I know for a fact he had three swords, because he gave two of them to his sons. So now that I know Rebellion had the power to combine things all along, I can't help but wonder…"

Taylor slowly sat up at that, staring at him in shock.

"...Have I never actually seen Sparda's real sword?" He whispered, staring off into the distance.

"So… What?" Taylor asked, eyes nervously flicking between the sword on the table and him. "You think the sword he used to beat all of Hell back is actually all three of them combined into one? Wouldn't that mean you're still missing the one your brother has to have the full thing?" Taylor furrowed her brow at that. "How come you're only asking about this now? Wasn't he your dad?"

Emmy snorted, previous mood dispelled as he leaned his head back and emptied the bottle in one go. "The old man was very private about his life before he had us. He preferred to keep history as just that: history. So, he never really went into much detail about his past, beyond the basics. Or, well, he never really told much to the real Dante." He shook his head, dispelling the thought.

Taylor simply stared at him, humming in thought.

Emmy raised an eyebrow at that. "What?"

"Ah, nothing, it's just… it's a little odd seeing you like this."

"Oh? Like what? Drinking my sorrows away?" He replied with a smirk before taking another swig of a newly opened bottle.

"No, I mean when you have these little moments where you seemingly forget you aren't actually the person you're emulating. I didn't want to mention it earlier, but you kept slipping back to referring to yourself as if you were the real Dante. Are you aware that you do that? It's kinda interesting." she mused, tilting her head in curiosity.

Emmy's eyes widened at that before he started choking on his beer. He sat up, coughing and sputtering as he thumped his own chest. "G-God damn it, that caught me off guard. Don't just say stuff like that outta nowhere!" He exclaimed with an annoyed expression.

Taylor snickered. "Alright, alright. I kinda asked you a question, though."

Emmy just rubbed his chin in thought before shrugging. "Ah well, I think it's just that I was feeling pretty comfortable in this guy's shoes. Kinda easy to forget I'm not him, y'know?"

"Ah, yeah, I think I get it. How come y-" was as far as she got before an odd pop of displaced air interrupted her, which was followed by the sound of bottles and tupperware being moved around before someone kicked the fridge's door open.

From the inside.

"Jesus, I swear people keep moving things around in this place for no reason. And why is the fridge so damn big on the inside?! Gah!" Katherine complained as she walked out of said fridge, an annoyed look on her face as she shoved energy bars and some drinks into a backpack that was practically bursting at the seams. Idly, she noticed one of the sleeves from her costume hanging off of it.

"Uhhhh…" Taylor trailed off as she stared at her.

"Oh, hey!" She perked up, before waving at them. "Sup, kid? I like what you did with the hair, it's very stylish. Hey, Emmy. How's it going?"

"Why were you inside our fridge?" Taylor deadpanned at her.

Kat shrugged. "Eh, beats me. Just wanted to stop by the kitchen and stock up on some snacks before I go."

"Oh? And where are you going?" Emmy asked curiously.

"Towards adventure, of course! I shall go where no mouse has ever gone before!" She said with a flourish of her hand, striking a pose dramatically.

"Ah, okay then. Need anything before you go?" Taylor asked idly.

"Nah, I'm goo-" She waved her off in reply before pausing, realizing who was offering her help. Slowly, a grin started to stretch across her face.

"Actually, now that I think about it, you wouldn't happen to have any of those super useful tags of yours lying around, would you?" Kat asked, leaning in very close to her face.

Taylor leaned back inversely proportionally to how much Kat leaned in. "...Sure." She drawled, before eyeing her backpack. "You might want a bigger backpack, though."

Kat snorted. "Nah, it's fine. Any more than this would just weigh me down."

Taylor simply stared at her. "One moment," she said as she opened a small gap, shoved an arm into it and started poking around, before retrieving a much smaller backpack covered in odd scribbles and tossing it at her.

Kat caught it with a raised eyebrow. "Uhh, kid? I'm not gonna be able to carry much of anything in this, y'know?"

Taylor chuckled. "Just open it."

"Okay? Sure, but why would I…" Kat trailed off as she looked inside the backpack. She stood still for a good ten seconds, simply staring at it. "Holy shit." She uttered.

"Hold it open for me for a second, will you?" Taylor asked as she opened another gap directly above the backpack's opening, before a seemingly endless stream of paper tags rained down on it.

"Uhhhh…" Was all Kat managed to put together, seemingly frozen in place.

Emmy, meanwhile, was trying really hard not to laugh at the situation.

After a couple seconds, Taylor closed the gap, stopping the rain of paper tags.

Kat idly noticed that the backpack, somehow, still weighed about the same as before. That is to say, nearly nothing.

"Um. Wow, okay…Thanks?" She said in a daze.

Taylor snorted. "Don't thank me, thank Mem. She's the one that puts those things together in her spare time."

Kat nodded. "Aight, noted. Uhh, I gouda get going now. Thanks a lot for the help!" She half stumbled and turned around.

"You sure you don't need anything else at all? Hm?" Emmy shrewdly asked, stopping her in her tracks.

"Ahh, uhh, well…" she mumbled, gaze switching back and forth between him and Taylor before stopping herself with a deep breath. Seemingly mulling something in her head, she bit her lip and asked. "So, uhh… That thing you did for Danny that made him all strong and stuff? Thinkyoucouldmaybedothatformeprettyplease?" She asked in a hurry.

Taylor stared at her for a moment. "Sure." She shrugged.

Katherine then proceeded to teleport-tackle-hug her out of her chair with a loud cry of joy.

Kat marveled at her hands as they glowed in a blueish-purple outline. "Whoa…"

Taylor grinned at her. "Pretty cool, right?"

Kat beamed right back. "Pretty cool?!" She exclaimed, slamming her hand into Taylor's with a loud clap of a handshake that would've absolutely demolished every single bone in a normal person's hand. "Hell freaking yeah it's pretty gosh darn hecking cool!" She cackled as she rapidly shook her hand up and down.

"Okay then! This Mouse has got to bounce! Adventure calls for me. But worry not, citizen! For the Hero of Cheese always remembers her debts and repays them tenfold!" She posed dramatically before wrapping her and Emmy in a bone-crushing hug.

"Now, it is time I make my departure! Until next time! Ciao!" She exclaimed, grabbing her backpacks as she ran off, cackling along the way, before slamming the door shut behind her.

The fridge door.

"...Did she really just run into the fridge?" Emmy asked, dumbfounded.

"Yup." Taylor replied, popping the 'p'.

"Think she's gonna be ok?" He wondered.

"Honestly? I'm more concerned for whoever has to deal with her." Taylor mused.

"Yeah, that makes sense."

Mouse Protector will return in: Accidentally Satan, a Projection Quest Sidestory

Last edited: Dec 8, 2022

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Gooey

Jun 23, 2022

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Jun 20, 2022

#46,632

One watched placidly from the rear of the room he was in as the Ministers of Defence and Transportation squared off for the dozenth time.

"Minister Shan, surely you must understand that moving the goods you need will take time regardless - I cannot divert any more resources to your efforts knowing the potential side effects of doing so." A thin weasel-faced man on one side of the room was negating furiously.

"Minister Peng, are you aware that the purpose of the railroads you are blocking me from using is to transport troops and ammunition? We do not sacrifice safety for commerce here. Perhaps you have spent too long abroad to remember this?" Another, drastically more rotund man countered, slapping his hands on the table like an angry child.

For all that they claimed superiority over the west, they still wore western clothes; slim-tailored suits with all the accompanying knickknacks and tools that demonstrated superiority in boardrooms the world over. Smartwatches filled the room, as did cellphones and computers.

Useful tools, if used only as tools. But heinous curses in the hands of those weaklings who had come to rely on them.

One did not often attend events such as this. Today, however, he was practically obligated to do so. He had already expected the summons well before the Chair had called for it.

After all, the nation was under attack. Not just that, it was under attack in a way that had not been seen in hundreds of years, even.

Naturally at first, the military had been sortied.

While yes, his Yangban had been constructed with the intent of stopping the dangerous and chaotic 'Parahumans' from disrupting the country, with many agreements and treaties signed declaring that they were for exactly that, and never to be used in matters of military or war… One had always known that was nothing but a polite facade.

Many in the government believed him harmless - almost useless with the institutionalized support they provided him. They regarded him as a 'Thinker with a particular bent towards Brainwashing techniques' or some such tripe. One did not consider himself such. He considered himself a philosopher. A student of the human condition. It was why he had taken upon himself the Dharma Name of One.

One above all. One beyond all. One who sees all.

One.

A side effect of his unique insight into people, how they worked, and why they worked - was that yes, he could manipulate conditions to affect any of those variables.

But that was not in and of itself, his 'power'. Much like his ability to read the intent of others was not the totality of his capabilities.

It did, however, make him an excellent lie detector.

The Yangban were always a military tool. They were just closer to nuclear ordinance than conventional troops. It would take a significant problem for the government to allow him to take visible action on the world stage.

Which was why he had done nothing to prevent the current invasion of the northern border - despite having expected it.

It would not do for his plans to be stymied at this juncture by a slightly above-average competent civil servant.

"Calm yourselves." He called carefully from the rear of the room. His body moved with his statement, tiny insignificant adjustments occurring that drew the eye of everyone in the room and kept it there despite the low volume of his statement. With a single step he stepped from the shadows at the rear of the room - where everyone knew he was standing anyway - and lifted a hand, enjoying the way their eyes followed it like a dog observing a ball.

They assumed that 'brainwashing' required being broken. Being starved and hurt and beaten and yelled at. They assumed these things, because it was how he broke his Yangban. It was how they saw him treat his soldiers.

They did not understand that people could be conditioned in a variety of ways, not all of them very obvious.

"Minister Shang, do you require assistance in transporting goods, or fighting the enemy." He asked carefully, lowering his hand to pluck at his own outfit; a much more respectable Shenyi garment. He made sure to phrase his question subserviently, giving the man face in exchange for interrupting his petty squabbling. But One already knew the answer to his question, even before Minister Shang spoke it.

"Resupply assistance would be appreciated, and I would be grateful for it." The Minister responded immediately. Likely he had never expected help from the Minister of Transport in the first place - they were rivals, just as every government official was, convinced that their path to greatness must be paved with the failures of all others.

It was a poor way to run a nation. It was also, ironically, the way China had always been ruled shortly before falling apart into warring factions. Truly, history is to be learned from.

Naturally, One knew this, as did all else in the room, but by offering himself this way, the favor he was owed by the Minister was diminished somewhat. One had to do his very best not to roll his eyes at the subtle smiles that flickered onto several faces at this. Any admission of weakness was to be capitalized on, and while none of them knew it, each and every person in the room thought they had the Yangban's support in the event that they attempted something… drastic.

They were, in a way, not even wrong. Zero, One, Two, and the ever insufferable Shen Yu had long since decided to support anyone that would bring their nation back to prominence. Not this toxic aping of the west that saw their wallets grow and their Dao wither. A true return, to when philosopher warriors, such as One himself, could rule with an even hand.

And One would be there to ensure whatever sprang forth from such an undertaking would not become corrupt, as so many dynasties before it.

So in a way, he did support each and every one of these would be Kings.

Unfortunately, he had also come to find he had a fondness for their current foe. A foe who hewed to the old righteous ways far better than a politician ever could.

The Horses - the Horde as they so loved to be called - were a menace. They raced across the more rural settlements in northern China like a crushing wave, driving enemies before them with strength of arms and righteous hearts. But they were respectful in their own way. Those who surrendered were made camp followers. Those who fought were slain honorably. They raised a prayer hall to praise the Military Saint each evening, and they debate the Dao into the night before moving on.

They did not stop, they did not doubt, and they did not shy away from death. Already soldiers were beginning to fear the sound of horses stampeding, as it meant that they were likely about to have a spear jammed into their throat. The creatures - regardless of whatever moronic Tinker had created them for - were not even bulletproof in most cases. They simply didn't care if they died, and that dedication allowed them to use their great strength and speed to close into melee range with a force that had not been trained for such in decades.

One could admit to a begrudging sort of respect for the creatures, even if it was not to the degree that he would not order their deaths if he had to.

But it was enough that he could maneuver his Yangban out of his way. If they made it to the heart of the nation, One knew which horse he would be obliged to back.

If not… well.

It was time for his Yangban to demonstrate their prowess on a greater scale soon anyway.

"Tell me about the girl." He said blandly to his personal servant as he exited the hall and returned to his vehicle so that he could comfortably return to his fortified position.

"We have placed the Infiltration Team in the city. The Boy is ready." His faithful assistant - this one was faithful anyway, since he had been allowed the time to raise her properly, unlike the last one - informed him.

"Good. He may begin at his leisure. Display no hostility." He commanded, before returning to his ponderings.

As ever, ruling a nation that did not know you were its ruler, was tiring.

Last edited: Jun 20, 2022

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Bowler Hat Guy

Jun 20, 2022

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Threadmarks Interlude: Aspirant

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Jun 20, 2022

#46,665

How does one try - without trying?

Jamie had tried pretty much everything he could think of. He had tried extremely hard, all the time, in the dim hopes that it would become second nature and he would no longer have to try.

This had worked, but only to a point. It had allowed him to manage his shifts and biology to an absurd degree. The lag time between shifts had drawn down to a matter of milliseconds. He had actually used his power to check, and in some cases he was actively shifting faster than the electrical impulses that demonstrated he was thinking could travel.

He flowed forward as he thought, suiting meditation to movement in a way only possible when the mind and body were one.

'Great Bear's Mauling Fist' he thought idly as his upper torso took on the characteristics of half a dozen bear species, all mingled together into what he instinctively knew was the ideal configuration for this attack. Hands with opaque ivory claws as big as meathooks were thrust through the air, bearing down on an invisible opponent.

But that was all it was. Force. Muscle. Technique. It was maddening, as though he could just barely sense what was missing, what would make the strike perfect. It was as though there was a hidden channel in his body that something was supposed to flow through, but that his power could not detect or help him with.

'Hands of the Dread Ape' He added, as his body - seemingly on autopilot, from his mental perspective - morphed and shifted, his fingers and hands elongating and thickening until the bulk of his mass was in his upper torso.

Then he clapped them together with a thundercrack of noise, the sheer force involved enough that an actual gorilla would have pulped its own hands in making the strike.

Again, there was the feeling of wrongness, of absence. But he felt it closer this time. Just barely out of sight. Just barely out of reach.

He tried to relax. To allow the moves to flow without thinking about them. He tried to think about them, but not to think about what was missing.

He tried every mental trick in the book.

But it was only when he gave up and allowed his shadow boxing routine to play out without much of any thought at all that he achieved something.

One moment, his mind was adrift as he spun around, elongated his foot into an over muscled ostrich and kicked out, and the next, a giant pearlescent ostrich was hovering over him, mirroring his movements. It was beautiful. It was sublime. It was like his very soul was experiencing a higher state of being.

The mirror creature was not real. It was not physical. He was not suddenly a Master type cape. But it was what it represented that filled him now, not just its biology. An icon of the creature's strength standing over him like a silvery glowing banner.

He was so excited that he barely stopped to consider the damage his empowered kick had wrought on the steel pillar he had been targeting with it. He spared not one iota of thought for the eddies and whorls of wind that spun about the room - like the survivors of a hurricane hurrying to safety in the aftermath.

He had to hang onto this… this feeling. He had to strangle the urge to examine or think too hard about what was happening lest he waste the moment of inspiration.

Instead, he just rode it out. He allowed his body to simply move, while the everchanging menagerie of beasts hovered in the air behind him. When his speed grew too great for him to maintain a solid humanoid form, he really cut loose, lashing out with a hundred punches, and kicks, and bites and snares at once. Where two fists made him a master combatant, a hundred made him a Shura. A hundred hands all bent towards violent ends.

It was only at the last second that he realized something was wrong. That he was slowly shifting in a way he did not want to, that he was channeling something beyond his normal understanding.

Fear was what stopped him before his output peaked. Fear, and the withering remains of an icon in the corner of his eye unlike any animal he had ever seen or heard of.

He tried to ponder it, to determine if this was as far as he could go before he tripped over into the schizophrenic monster he knew he had the potential to be… and then paused as he abruptly forgot what he was doing.

He had a vague recollection of… of a being twisting in on itself in a spectral breeze. Galactic in scale, and swirling back and forth like a billion Shards of-

A knock at the door, distracted him again, and this time he was unable to hang onto the thought. He was abruptly unsure of even how he had reached enlightenment, though he was sure he could display the ability again if he had to.

Was this what it was to be a master? Truly? Was his physical training over, now to be replaced with pondering the infinite in search of meaning?

He shook the thought from his head when he realized he hadn't answered the knock yet.

"Come in." He allowed, knowing that no one would come into his training hall without permission. It wasn't a matter of respect - although there was much of that present - but rather, safety. The forces he worked with were enough to obliterate a normal human. It was simply for the best that no one enter the room while he was practicing.

"Hey Chief! How's your thingy going?" Kim asked curiously as the ostensible second in command of the Dojo skipped into the room like a twelve year old girl.

"Well enough. I have attained a degree of enlightenment that-" he began, only all too happy to have someone to talk to about it so soon after his achievement.

"Sorry boss, don't have the time, I just wanted to get your permission for something before heading out. Hot date." The bubbly but well muscled woman explained quickly, shaking her hands in front of herself as though begging him to stop.

Which was rude. He could read the mood well enough, he wasn't going to ramble on about something nobody else cared about.

…wasn't he?

"…Well?" He asked, somewhat bratty sounding even to his own ears. He was glad he could hide the blush on his face using his power when Kim snickered at him from behind one raised hand.

"Right! I was thinking of changing things a bit. A handful of my girls have started to be able to do some vaguely magical stuff, so I was thinking we split classes into mundane and super kung-fu. A two tier kinda thing. Also, I wanted to do an in house tournament for 'em and was hoping you could get the okay from the big boss? Anything that serious, we definitely need healing on hand for, or someone's gonna die. Also, my cousin has a sister about your age and you should take her on a date." Kim rattled off in quick succession.

Aspirant nodded along with her until she finished, and then paused as he realized that there was a point in there that wasn't the same kind of concern as the others.

"Wha-" he began, only for Kim to rush ahead of him.

"Great! I'll get her around sometime tomorrow to meet you! I'm sure you'll get along great. Anyway, gotta go, dinner reservations and you know how anal retentive Willow is! Bye!" She cheered before turning and - literally - sprinting out of the room.

In response, Aspirant did what he always did when faces with an unpleasant truth.

He pretended he didn't know anything about it until he couldn't anymore.

Now, a tournament… that could be fun.

He had a proposal in his head before he even left the building that night.

Last edited: Jun 20, 2022

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Bowler Hat Guy

Jun 20, 2022

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Threadmarks Hell Is Bureaucracy, A Projection Quest Sidestory

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Jun 22, 2022

#46,759

"Explain it to me in a way I can understand Emily." The new Chief Director asked her in as neutral a tone as someone visibly rubbing one temple could manage.

Director Emily Piggot of the Protectorate ENE had to restrain the urge to frown at the petite woman who had taken over when Alexandria had stepped down from the position. Emily still couldn't bring herself to refer to the previous Chief Director as Rebecca Costa Brown. She had respected Rebecca. Now, knowing that Rebecca might as well have been a fabrication, it felt too much like insulting a dead woman to think of her.

And her replacement was, so far, not to Emily's tastes. She was overly familiar, and not nearly as strict or disciplined as the previous Chief Director. She had the feeling of someone who had great power, but for some reason was unwilling to exercise it to get the job done. She tried entirely too hard to be 'friends' with those under her.

"At roughly midday today, hundreds, possibly thousands, of Case 96's were spotted in and around past Endbringer sites. I've already forwarded the relevant documentation for handling them." Emily said blandly, reaching off screen for her mug full of delicious steaming coffee with too much sugar and cream in it just to punctuate her utter lack of surprise or concern.

Contrary to popular movie depictions of the Protectorate's Directors, she was not in a shadow room seated at a round table with other holographic depictions of her coworkers. That might have been nice, but it would have been an excessive and distasteful waste of tinkertech to make function.

So instead she observed her fellow Directors the way God intended.

Through two dozens tiny windows on her laptop, all of varying video and audio quality.

Her fellows, including the Chief Director herself, all looked extremely harried. She knew the look well, as it was all but perpetual for most people in their positions. Except for Emily. Today, Emily wore a navy blue pant suit over a cream coloured blouse, and had her blond hair tied up in a neat little bun.

It wasn't that there was no reason to be worried. It was just, she wasn't personally worried. For as much contempt as she held for Nexus' continued upheaval of everything she thought she knew about parahumans and the world in general, she was now beginning to reap dividends on that early exposure.

Emily Piggot, Director of the Protectorate ENE, had seen some shit.

"Is this supposed to be a joke Emily? We all saw you file for those dead capes of yours, and I was happy to keep my mouth shut about it, but whatever insane plan led you to lying about your guys being alive and replacing them with new Parahumans has no bearing on this situation!" The Vegas Director snarled at her.

She took another sip of coffee before answering, surreptitiously putting the mug down off screen so she could pour more of that delicious cinnamon bun flavoured creamer into it.

God she loved being able to eat whatever she wanted again.

"First off, I didn't replace them, and I certainly don't have the pull to force the Chief Director to approve a new case number just to sell a ruse. Who would I even be trying to trick? None of this is even public information. Did you read the briefing before this meeting or does Vegas need an army of Thinkers just to read three pages of plain english?" She snarked back at him, perhaps a bit more annoyed at his insinuation than she would willingly admit.

"You want me to believe that dead capes have just been getting up and walking around for months now? And no one leaked that? Pull the other one, I don't have time for bullshit." He responded instantly.

"Actually, she is correct. The previous Chief Director briefed me directly on it. She was concerned that I wasn't taking the new regs seriously." The Texas director added in, turning to send a nod Emily's way.

Perhaps as a side effect of constantly begging for reinforcements, money, and just general aid from all the surrounding Protectorate Departments, Emily got along well with Directors from further away - who understood but genuinely couldn't help her - and poorly with the nearer branches.

Largely because they'd left her high and dry for so long it took an act of god to get her city cleaned up.

"What the ghostbusters shit? Are you kidding me right now!? Is anyone else hearing this?! I move to have the whole damn lot of you checked for mastering!" Vegas insisted, slamming a wrinkled hand in his desk and causing his video stream to cut out for a moment.

"Director Lawrence please control yourself. You need to have read and enacted the training from the manual you were given by the end of the month or your tenure as a Director will be cut short. Emily, I appreciate that you've provided a handy framework for reintegrating Case 96's and we will follow through on it, but the public has to be told something. Costa Brown read me in on some things but not everything, so now I'm asking you, why exactly is there a line in the budget listed as 'Case 96 Expert', and why is it worth five times my salary?" The new Chief demanded, instantly calming the murmurs that had exploded across the call.

'Because a teenager with mommy issues has sole control the ability to make them.' Was what she thought inwardly.

Outwardly, she said;

"My department recently proved magic is real and that - theoretically - anyone can learn it. You have a pamphlet on that too, if you are curious. My expert is what you might call a Wizard of some capability. It costs a lot to keep them on retainer." She explained blandly.

Silence descended on the call as everyone in it paused to boggle at her mind numbingly juvenile sounding statement.

Even though she knew for a fact that it was absolutely true.

"I recommend finding one for yourselves actually. They work excellently on Case 100 situations." She added with the ghost if a smirk on her face.

A Director - she couldn't place exactly where the woman was from but Emily thought she must have been one of the Canadian Directors - quickly pulled open a ring binder that had been sitting nearby and paged through it until she landed on - presumably - the Case 100 briefing she had sent out weeks ago.

"Ghosts?" She muttered incredulously.

"Even odds you have a sudden rash of crimes with no discernible cause right? It's probably ghosts. Actually, it's almost always ghosts." She said with a shrug.

Emily felt a moment of blissful schadenfreude at the flabbergasted and confused expressions on the faces of most of her compatriots, remembering all too well what this moment felt like to be on the other end of.

Then she felt a chill run down her spine as she happily beat people over the head with the presence of the supernatural.

Was that girl rubbing off on her? Surely not.

Shaking away the disturbing thought, Emily settled in to weather the rest of the meeting, secure in the knowledge that the coffee machine in her office was only two steps away - and that she had quite a bit more of that delicious coffee creamer left.

Emily Piggot's home was - at least at one point - a spartan affair. The tiny home might not suit the dignity of a highly paid Protectorate, but it did have certain benefits. The Captain's Hill area was largely full of the affluent, which meant there was very little crime there. So the location itself was nice.

But what Emily really loved about it was that there were no other people in it to bother or annoy her. It was a small detached house at the very end of a cul de sac, with no other houses behind it. Just open space before you hit the road up to the lighthouse.

She unlocked the front door of the house, and slipped inside, hucking her jacket off and tossing it onto a chair by the door. She passed the living room - which contained only gym equipment and ripped up bits of furniture she couldn't get thrown out in time - and stepped into the kitchen, kicking her shoes off and leaving them in the hallway behind her. As usual, there was no actual food in the fridge, just aggravatingly bland nutrient shakes she had bought enough of to last months.

How was she supposed to know her renewed body would hate the bland tasteless sludge so much? It wasn't her fault the numbers for a bunch of fast food places kept finding their way onto her fridge.

It wasn't like she had much to spend her money on anyway. She didn't exactly have a social life. She got along well enough with Daniel Hebert, if only because they shared a mutual tormentor in the form of the man's daughter, but other than that… nothing.

Maybe that was why she tolerated the man that appeared behind her the minute she turned her back on one corner of the room.

"The hell do you want now?" She asked the ghost grouchily, eyeing the thing with a critical eye.

It had no face. It had no face, but the way its head bobbed and moved as it spoke made the blank expanse of flesh that sat where eyes and a mouth should be seem almost fake. Like an animatronic in a movie. Besides its face the thing had surprisingly little to make it stand out. It wore slacks and suspenders over a stained white shirt. Its arms were too long - they dragged along the ground behind it - but other than that… eh.

She had seen worse.

"Entry procedure. Too fast." It complained to her, and she couldn't help but roll its eyes at it.

"Set up a department for processing the paperwork, then set up a different department for informing new applicants that they've been approved, then a different department from that to actually let people in. Then give every department opposing hours so its impossible to get through all three in the same day. Oh, and don't actually train your pencil pushers. They'll figure the dumbest way to do things out on their own." She rattled off, turning back around to decide if she wanted chinese or indian food for dinner.

Maybe both?

"Evil. Like." The ghost rasped at her, lifting one overlong arm to pat her on the back.

"I'm sure." She responded distractedly. She largely didn't believe this ghost was actually doing anything with this information. Rather, she took its requests for help running an inefficient bureaucracy - as in deliberately inefficient - as the lament of a dead office worker who had found a kindred spirit in her.

So mostly she just used it to complain about how horribly designed the PRT was.

"Want. Come?" The ghost asked, which brought her pause, it had never actually asked to take her anywhere before. Just shown up, ignored the fact that she had shot it twelve times, and asked for help. She'd practically gotten used to the thing at this point. Like a cat she didn't have to feed or clean up after.

"Come… where? Where do ghosts go anyway?" She asked, tentatively turning to keep the creature in the corner of her vision as she switched over to trying to pump it for information.

To her surprise, it laughed at her. A burbling, sickening sound that reminded Emily of boiling tar.

"Not. Ghost. Work. Hell. Middle Manager." It explained with a snicker, before patting her on the shoulder again, and vanishing from sight.

Emily blinked at the sudden departure. Then sighed and got out a notepad.

At the top she wrote; 'Case 101. Probably Demons.'

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Bowler Hat Guy

Jun 22, 2022

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Threadmarks Interlude: Gram

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Jul 13, 2022

#47,224

She eyed the suburban home before her with a mix of contempt and annoyance.

'Note to self. Ask mum for a cellphone.' She groused to herself.

This all would have been much easier if she could just phone Greg. Although, she was sure that if she asked any of her siblings, they would jokingly point out that the trouble was mostly going to be Greg's.

She spared a thought for those poor wretched souls who had to struggle for meaning in life and felt her expression soften slightly. They just didn't understand. She was a sword. She was destined to be used as a sword. She appreciated being ambulatory, and had a number of things to look into pertaining to ways to enjoy her new body - but she would have been just as content being left as a sword as long as Greg had come to get her.

Like he was supposed to in the first place!

Instead, she was here, at his house, knocking on his front door.

Mum hadn't felt it appropriate for her to burst into the Undersiders' hideout unannounced. She also hadn't approved of Gram sneaking into her wielder's room at night.

She'd have snuck out and done it anyway, but Simone had helpfully pointed out that showing up on his doorstep dressed like a 'fantasy' character would damage his 'secret identity'.

She had then proceeded to force Gram to watch the entire first season of 'Mouse Protector: The Animated Series', just so she had the proper context for things. Aaaand then there had been the wardrobe problem, her extremely distinctive looking hair…

It had been an entire ordeal.

But! Now! She! Was! Ready!

Bright white hair like her mother and sisters, bleached that way by Simone! Thick black stockings! Black knee-high boots that highlighted her calves! And a perfectly fitted cream sweater that came to just above mid thigh and acted as a faux skirt!

Had her sister made her spend an uncomfortable amount of time with the Tailor in a desperate, pathetic, attempt at flirting? Yes. But it was worth it.

Because now she was going to knock on this door-

Kknock knock knock

-and Greg was going to take one look at her and-

"Can… I help you?" A middle aged woman in her sleepwear asked blearily from the front door as it swung open to reveal her.

Gram stared blankly at the woman for a moment before reorienting her priorities and plans.

It always paid to get along well with your spouse's parents.

"Hiiiii Mrs. Veder! Is Greg up yet? I was hoping we could walk to school together?" She simpered in an overly cutesy and vulnerable tone, digging the toe of one boot into the stone step she was standing on and twisting it back and forth as though nervous.

She made sure to place the correct amount of embarrassment into the statement. Coming across as too eager would just throw the woman off after all.

"He… isn't…" she said slowly, squinting at Grams' hair suspiciously. Gram didn't directly respond except to continue smiling at the woman.

"But I guess I can wake him up." She added eventually, stepping back from the doorway and pausing as though searching for what to say next.

"Would you like to wait inside?" Mrs Veder eventually asked.

"Thank you, yes." Gram responded instantly, sliding forward and into the house before the woman could take a moment to reconsider.

"Greg! Greg, get down here!" Mrs Veder screamed loudly up the stairs, ignoring how close Gram was to her when she did so.

"Mrgle?" A thin male voice hoarsely groaned from the top of the stairs. Gram bent forward at an almost ninety degree angle in the dim, dim hope that her idiot would be wearing something risque at the top of those stairs like… boxers or possibly nothing at all, but when she found she couldn't see anything at all at the top of those stairs, she quickly bolted back upright and plastered a shy smile on her face to cover the leer she'd been sporting.

Just in time for Mrs Veder to turn around to eye her again.

"What… exactly… is your relationship with my son? You go to school with him?" She continues suspiciously.

Gram was almost offended by the suspicion. Almost. She was too good to be with most people. Knowing nothing else about the situation, it would be preposterous to believe that Greg Veder would end up with someone as perfect as her.

"Oh, I'm new in the country. I actually came here for Greg." She said pleasantly.

She wasn't sure why or how, but that… turned out to be exactly the wrong thing to say.

POV: Greg

"GREGORY VEDER YOU GET UP AND EXPLAIN TO ME WHY YOU ORDERED A SCANDINAVIAN CHILD BRIDE ON THE INTERNET RIGHT NOW!" His mother screamed at him with a fury usually reserved for when he did something catastrophically stupid.

Like trying to pawn her wedding ring so he could get a new console. Or when he had tried to prove he was ready to get his driver's license by… stealing the car.

Not a scratch on that thing when he pulled back into the garage with it, but did anyone care? Nooooo. And now he wasn't going to be allowed to get a license until he was too old for anyone to stop him.

Mind still hazy from sleep, Greg took his customary response to early morning screaming–

And went back to sleep.

For exactly four seconds.

Then he was jarred awake again by more yelling, this time accompanied by loud banging on his bedroom door.

Mom had stopped breaking into his room without knocking first shortly after he'd hit puberty.

'There are things no Mother should have to see', she had said.

"GREGORY VEDER!!!"

"Fine! I'm up!" He finally spat out, bolting up in his bed and growling in the back of his throat. He didn't have to be here. He made enough to live on his own. Lisa said she'd help him cheat his GED and everything.

…but he liked school and he didn't want to abandon his parents…

Grumbling to himself, Greg struggled his bulk out of bed, stumbling slightly as his prodigious bulk was never something meant to fit in his little bed.

It was constant now. Ever since he'd switched exclusively to using Sigurd's heart, no matter what he did, who he copied, his copies were always better.

And by 'better' here he meant 'muscular as hell'.

It wasn't a serious blow to his power's ability to grant him stealth - if he copied a scrawny guy he'd stay scrawny for a little while before his heart started to bulk him up again. But it was definitely annoying.

Worth it though.

As he was having that thought, he felt more than heard his bedroom door click open, and turned his head to figure out who was there.

There was no point being embarrassed about nudity when you had the perfect body anyway.

"Greg." A strange woman said, growling in the back of her throat the moment she laid eyes on him. His mother lay in a heap behind her - still breathing but unconscious - and the woman was breathing heavily even though she didn't look like she had exerted herself at all.

"…Taylor finally decided she couldn't leave me running around with this thing, huh?" He asked her slowly, rising to his full height in only his boxers even as his mind raced ahead of him. He started identifying what he had available. He couldn't fight here, his parents could get hurt, but there was no way he was going to survive one of Nexus' kids, minions, allies, or whatever the current theory on them was. This was already a losing battle.

And there was little doubt in his mind that this girl was one of Taylor's. The white hair was a dead give away, according to PHO. All of her 'kids' had it somehow.

"…What?" The woman said, rearing back like a cobra flaring its hood to stare at him.

Greg tapped on his chest - where his heart was - and waited expectantly. He couldn't make the first move - the woman was too close to his Mom. Briefly he spared a wishful thought for one of those punch dagger things that came with Gram.

Then he snorted and got over himself instead of sitting in a daydream about being better like he used to.

"You… know that I've come for your heart?" The woman put forth experimentally.

Greg nodded, fists tightening.

"Greg! I lo-" the woman halfway screeched, lunging towards him with an unhinged expression filled with enthusiasm.

The second she moved, Greg uncorked the well of power that flowed from his heart to his extremities, blasting his fist forward with all his might.

And then paused with his fist an inch from her face, as he felt a sharp object poke him in the throat.

"Greg, dear. Please explain why you are attacking me." The woman said in a conversational tone that in no way diminished the unholy rage burning in the single eye visible from behind his fist.

"You're here to rip my heart out. I know I can survive that, 'cus I don't think Taylor would want to kill me, but–" he started to explain, but paused mid-sentence to swat the blade away from his throat, instead grabbing the arm holding the dagger and hurling the woman behind him and onto his bed so that he could back up towards his unconscious mother.

"This isn't how I saw myself in your bed for the first time…" the woman complained, pushing some of her hair out of her face and glaring at him.

"Look, I read comic books. I'm not gonna get distracted and make some fatal mistake just because you're hot and keep saying suggestive things to me." Greg said, slowly crouching to feel for his mom's pulse without taking his eyes off his attacker. Was Dad okay? Did she already get him?

"I'm not suggesting. I get what I- …I believe there has been a misunderstanding here. I've been waiting for you Greg. Please, hold me?" The girl simpered, doing… exactly the thing Greg just said wouldn't work on him.

He already had a girl he liked, he reasoned, so naturally he couldn't allow himself to be seduced by-

…A sword?

Suddenly, between one blink and the next, there was a sword in his bed instead of a woman. A very… familiar sword.

"Gr-Gram?" He uttered, before blanching.

Suddenly, he realized that he much more preferred the idea that someone was here to kill him, somehow.

Greg Veder, who was destined for greatness and glory, did the only thing that came easily to mind at that exact moment.

He scooped up a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that barely fit him anymore…

Then he ran away.

"Why!" She screamed at him fifteen minutes later, having caught up to him as he jogged to the Undersiders' current base of operations.

The welding place had been cozy but when they had gone 'straight', as Lisa put it, they had been forced to move into a building they were actually legally allowed to be in. Thankfully, Theo was a pretty good boss, and had procured a suspiciously well-stocked safe house for them. Tattletale had given it one long look, gasped, then laughed, then told everyone else not to worry about it.

"Why what?" He asked her tiredly as she drew up alongside him, stepping slightly away from the strange girl - Gram, he supposed - when she reached out to grab his arm.

"Why are you being so difficult?! I'm a legendary magical sword and an attractive woman! I'm literally perfect! What is your problem, Veder?" She hissed at him, all trace of seduction absent from her expression as genuine ire replaced it.

Greg pondered for a moment how he could explain to her that he actually didn't want to be famous, or powerful, or any of that other stuff. He actually liked how his life was right now just fine.

So instead he said;

"I already have someone I like."

He took six more steps before realizing Gram was no longer following him, and was instead staring into the middle distance, as though trying to compute something unfathomable.

POV: Gram

Her mind raced as she considered every possible permutation of this situation - and how she would deal with it.

Finding out the man that belonged to her was pining after someone else was within her calculations, to a certain degree. If the fool had fallen for her mum well, he at least had good taste. And it should be easy to get Taylor to reject him so she could move in and pick up the pieces.

The problem was, she didn't think it was her mother Greg was talking about. There were only two women on the Undersiders though, so-

Actually.

"Are you gay!?" She blurted out, flushing as she rushed to catch up with Greg.

"What? No! N-not that there's anything wrong with- I don't have anything personally against- I'm not gay!" He blurted out in sudden distress.

She tilted her head downward to stare at her perfect self, then lifted it again to arch the patented Hebert Eyebrow at him in silent question.

"I'm not a hormone-addled idiot either." He groused, turning away from her to continue stomping along the sidewalk, obviously in a foul mood.

God, she wished he was. That would make this so much easier.

At length, and amidst the sudden awkward silence that now stood between the two, Greg led her to the rear of an office building that obviously hadn't seen use in several years, and then quickly unlocked the door with a key from his pocket before slipping inside. She made to follow after him, but he stuck a hand out to block her.

"Wait a minute." He said before turning away from her.

"Hey guys, we got company! Masks on!" He hollered inside. He waited for a ten count with no audible response, then shrugged and moved out of the doorway, allowing her entry.

"Look, I get that you and I have a… a thing… but just…" he trailed off, like he was unsure of what to say or do on the topic then sighed, loudly.

"Look, I need to talk to someone about this, so-" he began.

"I'd love to listen to anything you have to say-" she tried hopefully.

"-someone that isn't you. Living room is on your left. If you hurt my team I will never forgive you." He said, and the force behind that statement was so abruptly powerful and violent that she was left trying to decide if she was offended or aroused by it.

Then before she could comment, Greg whirled and headed towards a stairwell that he promptly leapt to the top of in a single lazy bound.

Irked at the dismissal, but more than aware that she wasn't going to win any points by harassing the man, Gram grudgingly headed to the room that Greg had pointed out to her before leaving.

Her first impression of the room was that it reminded her of Trainwreck's junkyard.

It was a mess.

It was like someone had taken one look at this room, with its rich expensive looking carpet, mahogany bar on one end of the room, a large television screen against the wall and said; "This could look more like a frat lives here."

Soda cans, empty pizza boxes, and dirty clothing lay strewn about the room like a thin layer of sediment covering the floor. Two large fans were on and pointed at the same spot in front of the television, which was displaying a video game of some kind - she didn't care for the things - while the pasty, almost albino teen seated in front of it tapped away at his controller.

"…Hello? Are you one of Greg's friends?" She asked politely, carefully schooling her features to hide her contempt.

"If you ask him then he'd probably say I was, I guess. Are you here to break all our stuff and arrest us?" The blond youth asked lazily, dropping his controller in his lap and leaning back in his chair until he was staring at her upside down.

"That… wasn't an answer." She replied, again barely restraining her annoyance.

'Good impression. Good impression!' She chanted angrily to herself.

"It wasn't? Huh. So what's your deal? You're one of the Queens, I assume, on account of the hair. Babysitter? Parole Officer? Just here to check on us for mommah?" He asked patronizingly. She noted that he hadn't bothered to put a mask on to speak with her, and she couldn't tell if that was because he realized there was no point - or if he just genuinely didn't care.

She didn't even question the boy's assigned title for her mother.

It was more correct than he would ever be aware of.

"None of the above. I am here to support my future husband in his endeavours." She said blandly.

"…You're fucking Brian?" The blond asked incredulously.

"…who is-"

"You're fucking Greg!?" He amended incredulously.

"…I would like to be." She said with a shrug.

"Cool… cool. Hey, between you and me, you can drop the act. Can't play a playah." He said in a sing-song voice before turning his attention back to his game.

"I'm sorry?" She said politely.

"That. Stop doing that." He said idly and without turning around.

Gram considered that for a moment, then shrugged.

"Fine. I seek to make Greg mine. I would appreciate your support, as his friend, in this manner." She said bluntly.

"Yeah, G-man has a whole thing going on with Tats, so I dunno if-" he started to drawl.

"I will ensure that you stay free and clear of my mother's work and influence for as long as I am allowed to stay." She interjected.

He paused again, turning back towards her.

"You really think I'll sell out-"

"I will personally purchase and provide you with pizza every night." She added.

"From-"

"Big Rico's, yes."

"Tattletale and I are friends, I barely-"

"What was it you said? Don't play a player? Take the deal." She sighed out, already exhausted from having to deal with this pissant.

"Done! I'm Alec by the way. Regent on the streets, as it were."

"I had assumed that to be the case, yes." She said dryly. It was at precisely that moment that the door opened behind her, and she whirled around hoping for Greg…

Only to find a tall black man in workout clothes with a motorcycle helmet on his head obscuring his face.

"Regent, what the hell was G-man talking… about." He barked then trailed off as he laid eyes on her.

She resisted the urge to pose for effect. Barely.

"…Hi. I'm Grue. You've met Regent. Who are you and why were you brought here?" Grue stated bluntly, shoulders tense.

"Brian! Buddy! Chillout! Greg brought us a new team member. He's probably upstairs talking to Lisa about it now." Alec called out to him, not at all relieving the tension in his shoulders.

"We have a job today. We can't afford this right now, and we aren't being paid enough to hire an extra team member." He growled.

"Oh, I don't need money." Gram offered hopefully, once more in her demure voice, clasping her hands in front of herself as though scared.

"Still. I'll take it under consideration and talk to our boss, but for today-" Brian began to insist only for her new ally to chime in again.

"Hey, you said Wizard Girl or whatever was your sister, right? What's the junior league for the Oathbound upto nowadays?" He asked - completely changing the topic.

Curiously, Brian allowed the change, his head snapping first to Alec and then back to her again in quick order.

"The girls are… fine. I haven't had the opportunity to speak to them recently. I am quite fond of Ai- of the one with the sword. She has worked honorably towards her goals." She said primly, disguising the fact that she was literally born yesterday, and so, hadn't actually interacted with any of them at all.

"She's- they're good, though? Safe?" Brian asked slowly.

Gram allowed herself to snort at that.

"I assure you, if anything happened to them, mother would promptly fix it and then destroy whatever did it. There are few people safer." She said, trying to piece together the subtext of this conversation.

She knew Aisha had a brother but… he couldn't be.

Could he?

Ooh, that would be perfect!

Brian returned to staring blankly at her for a moment before speaking again.

"I… see. What exactly are your powers?" He asked carefully.

Mentally, she marked him as 'handled' in her mental book of grudges. Who was left? The dog one and the blond one, right?

"They-" she began only to pause when a voice next to her head rang out.

"Fou~" it cried in a high pitched cutesy tone of voice.

She practically flew across the room and through the wall to escape it. She didn't know why, but an overwhelming and somehow familiar sensation of primal terror coursed through her soul just from hearing that thing, and it was all she could do not to burn that half of the building down on instinct.

Brian did get to see what her powers were though. At least some of it.

So that was something.

POV: Lisa

"So the sword is a hot babe now? Damn, you lucked out, Veder!" Lisa said with a cheery tone and a cheeky smirk, even though inwardly she felt like someone had just punched her in the stomach and robbed her, leaving only the taste of ashes and bile in her throat.

She was aware that what she and Greg had going on was far from healthy. On some level, she even understood that she had gotten almost too used to it.

Toxic codependency requires both individuals to-

"Yes, thank you power, very cool." She thought to herself, clamping down harder on her fraying control. She had been eyeballing a map of the Heap all morning in final preparation for the job today. Ironically, she was only able to see the place because her job was to protect it and prevent bad things from happening to the crowds that would inevitably be there.

She was woman enough to admit that she disliked Nexus too much to ever be able to observe the property under normal circumstances.

"Yeah, I guess…" Greg said, sitting only a few inches away from her and twiddling his thumbs like a kicked puppy. The hell did he want her to say? Was she supposed to get angry or jealous here? They weren't really dating and she had already made it clear they probably wouldn't ever be.

She just wasn't wired for physical intimacy like that.

Still, the sad dejected look on his face made her feel all the worse, and she mentally screamed at herself when she realized she had taken his hand in one of her own before speaking again.

"Hey don't worry about it. I don't trust her, but no way Nexus-"

"Taylor. You can just call her Taylor." Greg interjected.

"I try not to humanize the things that go bump in the night, Greg." She thought in response. But instead she just continued onward with her statement.

"-no way she lets that thing get too far away without supervision. It kills Endbringers. Just ignore her and she'll probably go away eventually." She finished.

"I don't think that's going to work…" Greg grumbled to himself.

Privately, Lisa doubted it would either. But she wasn't exactly looking forward to picking a fight with anyone over it, so just this once, she hoped that doing 'the right thing' and going legit would give her enough good karma to dodge this bullet.

As though God himself was laughing in her face for the thought, the door to her room slammed open, and a surprisingly diminutive - but buxom - girl strode in. She could just barely make out Brian, Rachel, and Alec standing in the hallway outside.

"I have the solution to all problems!" The newcomer - Lisa assumed it was the talking sword, but only because Brockton Bay was where common sense came to die - declared haughtily.

"Wow, you figured out world hunger? Shocking!" She spat out sarcastically.

The girl frowned at that, then amended her statement.

"I have the solution to all our problems!" She repeated.

It was at this point that Lisa started to get a bad feeling about this situation. Actually, she'd been having that feeling ever since Greg walked into her room and she had resolved to let him down easy, for his own sake, but had ignored it because of the sick roiling in her stomach.

"Rachel has kindly pointed out to me that I may be overthinking things. After examining grandfather's situation, I now realize that either we are all happy, or that no one will be happy. Thus, we shall all date!" She declared imperiously.

"I already told you I already have someone I like." Greg said weakly, turning away from Lisa so she couldn't see his obvious blush.

"Yes! So you will date both of us!" She declared again.

Lisa's brain froze.

"You can't be serious!" She blurted out before her mind could catch up to her mouth.

"Yes! And as is only fair, I shall date both of you!" Gram continued.

"She can't be-" Lisa inwardly screamed, loosening her grip on her power all at once in a panic.

Is absolutely serious

"I- buh- that- what-!" Greg burbled incoherently in a daze from next to her, while she was too busy experiencing the novel sensation of her own brain shutting down and ceasing all cognitive functions, until Gram rolled her eyes and slid herself into the narrow space between the two of them.

"I am honestly glad we resolved that. It was very distressing." The sword-turned-woman said blithely, snaking one arm around both Lisa and Greg's waists.

"Now, about today's job…"

A/N: She just wants to be wielded bro. Anyway, here's the lead up to the mall opening and also, the tale of how Gram more or less forces herself on the Undersiders. Hope it was at least entertaining.

Thanks for reading!

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Bowler Hat Guy

Jul 13, 2022

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Jul 28, 2022

#47,654

[X] Oscar Pine (Hegemon Heart Bud)

[X] Weiss has graciously offered to help you arrange to mine that Dust deposit below the city. It might be worth taking her up on the offer. (Bonus, Weiss gets to see the Mall opening)

Current Training: Swordmaster Style 7/10 - Complete!

Current Energy: 8

Current Emulation Status: Here

Monday, March 21st, 2011

Hebert Household, Brockton Bay

You are awoken that morning by your Master hovering over you with her sword in her hand and a Gap already present behind her.

"It's six o'clock." She explains to you as you become conscious - and immediately back away from her. Just as a reflex, obviously. Not because of the air of menace wafting off of her like smoke from a fire.

It isn't like you spent all of yesterday fleeing through the halls while frantically avoiding murderous blows from the thin woman. Nope.

Everything about this is comfortable and safe.

For Taylor.

For you? Well, you are quickly starting to realize that maybe being able to heal from any wound only makes you a more desirable training dummy. And while the part of you that is 'Emmy' doesn't mind being better at your job, the part of you that is a chronic slacker from another dimension absolutely hates it.

"…so?" You ask, feeling a bead of sweat drip down your back. Taylor blinks at you. Once.

Then the Gap behind her widens until one half of the room is obscured by it - handily precluding you the ability to ghost behind her to escape.

"So it's time to train. Duh." She responds bluntly.

"Training? Ooooh right. Training. The training. That we do. In the mornings. Right… right. Remind me again, what kind of-" you say, stalling for as long as possible while you try and think of anything else you could convince her to do.

"Sword stuff." Taylor says confidently.

"Not very specific." You reply.

"Stop turning into hot guys with swords and I'll start remembering what all the sword stuff is called." She bites back.

"Hah! I knew you thought this 'me' was hot!" You yell, leaning forward to cackle with sudden manic laughter as you stick your finger in her face - your self-preservation instinct having apparently atrophied and fallen off a long time ago.

Your Master stares at you for a single long second, her expression entirely blank but her face slowly turning pink. Then she rapidly lifts her hand to grab your pointing finger, yanks you toward her and off your feet, and then adjusts her grip to hurl you bodily through the portal behind her.

"You look like a dirty overworked hobo!" She screams at you as you exit reality.

"That's your type though!" You scream back at her.

The howl of embarrassed frustration you catch before your head is fully enveloped in Gap space is like music to your ears.

Monday, March 21st, 2011

What Remains of the Boat Graveyard, Brockton Bay

Normal sword fighting is about precision and coordination. Long sharp sticks of metal aren't hard to hurt a person with, but humans have been abusing physics and biology to perfect their ability to do so for generations. Dodge, Parry, Counter attack. Seeking openings, seeking mistakes, seeking weakness.

When you have super strength, super speed, and super durability, sword fighting becomes an entirely different discipline.

Against a normal swordsman, your current emulation doesn't have to bother with skill - he can swing his blade so hard and fast that it obliterates anything used to block it, even other swords. More so than that, you are still largely subject to the laws of physics - which is to say, if you parry an attack from someone with super strength, and your weapon doesn't break - you still have to deal with enough physical force to shunt your entire body thirty feet in the opposite direction.

Thus, high powered sword fighting isn't just about skill at arms - it is about modulating strength. Every parry has to have the appropriate amount of force behind it to counteract the forces being applied to you. Every attack has to account for the possibility of your opponent suddenly being half a football field away.

In other words, what it comes down to is leverage.

And while Dante is an exceptional swordsman, he isn't a very good mundane swordsman. He uses a bevy of tricks, cheats, and pseudo magical abilities in order to take the advantage against his enemies.

There are just two problems with this, as it relates to your current situation.

One, you can't waste energy on those things right now - not so late into your emulation.

And two - your Master can use the same 'standing on air' trick she uses to fake flying in order to create an unlimited amount of leverage, that she can use from any angle.

"I can see why you brought us out here for this!" You yell at the top of your lungs, juking to one side to avoid a stab that would have caught you in the eye, then grabbing and throwing a large metal crate from the deck of the ship you are on at Taylor - who cleaves it in two and continues to run at you like it wasn't even there.

Since she basically teleports in front of you, you swing out with the flat side of your oversized sword, hoping to bat her away and get yourself some room to maneuver, only for her to lift a foot and kick your sword so hard that it stops dead. It takes you half a millisecond to realize she is bracing herself against an invisible wall to do so, and you can't help but gulp as she uses your outstretched blade to hop into the air and swing her sword at your head.

Again.

It's a token of her trust in you that she is using killing strikes pretty much every time she swings her sword in your direction, and you appreciate that, you do, but…

"Stop trying to decapitate me!" You complain as you duck the blow and then dodge to the side again. Any normal enemy would be stranded in the air and at the mercy of gravity at this point, but rather than hang in the air waiting for a counter attack, Taylor wordlessly kicks off another invisible surface to slam her sword down into the metal deck of the ship.

Exactly where your head would have been.

Again.

If you had to describe your Master's style of swordsmanship you'd call it 'implacable'. Every action she takes is calculated ferocity, controlled violence that never ends, never slows, and gets harder and harder to avoid the longer you engage her. You would usually respond to a threat of this caliber by using more of your powers - but you are sadly limited.

Besides, your Master is similarly limited right now.

Not that it makes her any less scary.

And also, not that she was limiting herself on purpose, given that she flicks her sword and has it transform into a khopesh before continuing after you.

And all of this while eerily quiet. Ugh.

You stand and get ready to attack her, or more likely, fend her off until she gets bored of such - but after several seconds of just staring at you, you start to get worried.

"Taylor?" You ask cautiously - wary of a trap.

"Taylor?" You try again, slowly approaching her and lowering your sword - only for her sword to vanish from her hands and Nemesis to appear reaching out to you with her eyes wide and tears streaming down her face.

"I don't wanna! It's boring, boring, boring!" She screeches, only for Taylor to snap her hand out and grab the spirit by her ankle - instantly returning her to being a sword.

"Uh, should I be worried about–" you try, only for your Master to absently reach out and snag you by the front of your shirt.

And… suddenly, you are falling

Monday, March 21st, 2011

??????

"Oh hey, it's this place again!" You cheer as you acclimate yourself to your new surroundings with the speed and aplomb of someone who frequently finds themself in unfamiliar and dangerous situations.

Below you is the old familiar tableau of a giant raging statue as it fights off the unending hordes of darkness that charge at it across the otherwise idyllic looking countryside.

You don't have the proper terminology for it as Dante, not really. You think all of your different selves would have had different words for it. Sigurd would have called it a Reality Marble, or–no, a pseudo Reality Marble given your Masters crucial inability to superimpose it on the real world. Yukari would have probably called it a pocket dimension, or maybe just 'a valiant attempt' if she was feeling uncharitable. Po would have called it an Inner World, though likely with between three and five extra adjectives appended to it, in order to sound more 'awesome'.

Ironically, the genius who the power came from - Zaraki Kenpachi - didn't even have a word for it.

He never cared to learn it.

Actually, you are remembering a surprising amount of information from your past emulations right now, which was not usually the case. Typically you underwent a sort of… sterilization procedure, would be the word for it, you think, whenever you changed emulations. General knowledge could remain purely for the purposes of continuity, but no skills, or truly granular information.

You would have to examine that later. For now you had bigger concerns.

Bigger than falling out of the sky onto a battlefield of infinite and implacable enemies, you mean.

Because the part of you that was distinctly 'Dante' had abutted up against the part of you that was distinctly 'Yukari', and now you were lamenting the fact that you had at one point been a hot girl and done precisely nothing with it. Sure, at the time it was just being you, but–

"Oof!" You groan, making an exaggerated noise as you hit an invisible barrier that leaves you laying on what amounts to the floor at your Master's feet, where she is standing just a bit above the statue, watching the melee below.

"H-Hey stop! It- it's really lame! You'll hate it! It- it'll be all sparkles and bubblegum and um, not good!" Nemesis was desperately yelping, standing not too far away from you in her aged up form. The comical combination of her entirely too revealing egyptian outfit jangling about with all its little bits of gold and metal as she frantically waved her arms in front of Taylor as though to block her view of the battlefield is enough to earn a hard snort from you that immediately attracts the sword spirit's ire.

"You!" She screeches irately as she whirls on you, jabbing an accusatory finger in your direction.

"Me!" You cheer lazily, pushing yourself to your feet.

"This is your fault! Fix it!" Nemesis demands, marching over and slapping you repeatedly on the chest to minimal effect.

You wonder if she's holding back out of affection or if she actually can't hurt you?

"You know, just having the option available to use your second form thing doesn't mean I'm going to use it all the time." Taylor growls irately, turning from her inspired observation of the battlefield to eye her sword spirit with obvious annoyance on her face.

"But I might not even be a sword anymore! What if I become a giant laser cannon or something?! I don't want that! I like stabbing stuff!" Nemesis whines, before turning back to you. "Hey you're mine too, right? Come oonnnnnnn!" She half cries at you.

"I don't even know what I'm supposed to stop." You admit freely.

"That–" Nemesis starts, perking up at your seeming agreement - only to instantly deflate as Taylor shouts; "Found it!" With the air of a woman seeking water in the desert who has finally found an oasis.

"Aaaaaaaaaah!" Nemesis screams loudly, jumping up to return to waving her arms in Taylor's face.

"Found… what?" You ask, now starting to get annoyed by the byplay you can't follow.

"You said it was a fighting thing! You said I had to fight them!" Taylor belts out accusingly, temporarily ignoring your question.

"It helped, didn't it!?" Nemesis returns angrily, and - because they both look like the same person at slightly different ages - you are treated to the comical sight of two Taylors growling into each other's faces like animals, while their foreheads are pressed against each other, visibly straining to force the other to back down.

It… doesn't look even slightly comfortable.

"Hey! Explain!" You call out? Snapping your fingers a few times between them to get them to knock it off.

The pair glare at each other for a second before Nemesis lets loose a loud harrumph, and turns away from both of you - presumably to sulk.

Your Master then smiles one of her 'about to do grievous bodily harm to someone' smiles and points with one finger.

In the exact opposite direction of all the combat. Behind the giant, beyond the armies, beyond even the rolling green fields the entire melee is taking place in.

You would think it would be hard to have missed an entire section of the area, but you suspect that was more a product of Nemesis' spite than anything else. This is her world after all.

Still, you find it perturbing that you were hovering overhead, and still didn't see:

[ ] A massive, bottomless, crater - within which writhes a darkness that is both alive and malicious

[ ] A field of graves, the earth still churned, wet, and fresh in front of each gravemarker.

[ ] Armaments of wrought stone, fit to provide the titanic statue the edge it needs to win the melee.

[ ] A glossy mirror surface that stretches from horizon to horizon, reflecting the ongoing battle but somehow at much slower speeds than it is actually proceeding.

[ ] Reinforcements. While the lone titan fights, dozens more just like it are slowly being assembled in the distance. Where one stems the tide, a dozen…

[ ] What you had originally taken to be an impassable wall of mountains and white snow at a distance, well… it actually is starting to look very… mobile. In fact, if you look closely the snow almost looks more like… overlapping webs?

"The hell is that?" You ask in confusion.

"Mine." Is your Masters succinct response.

Nemesis continues to whine in the background.

Monday, March 21st, 2011

Hebert Household, Brockton Bay

"We might need to look into renovating the kitchen." Danny says dryly, glancing over his shoulder from where he is currently cooking three separate pans of bacon at once to observe the chaos behind him.

"You're burning breakfast! Focus, manservant!" Mouse calls out jokingly, before sauntering over and bumping Danny to the side with her hip so she can help.

"He knows how to cook bacon. Kat." Jess says tiredly - the only person at the table who isn't visibly relaxing. Instead, stacks of paperwork and half a dozen folders are piled up around her as she rapidly flips through them - signing some and pushing others towards your Master - who doesn't even bother reading most of them before signing and passing them back.

Well. Not everyone is at the table in the first place though.

Mem is doing what she always does when she gets a day off of school - which is watching cartoons. She sits cross legged on the floor about a foot away from the TV - less because she is just that focused, and more because the rest of the room is a little too chaotic for her tastes.

Behind her, having moved the coffee table to make space for himself to stand in, Yew is animatedly lecturing Gram about the importance of family and taking care of eachother - while she sulks on the love seat because she wasn't allowed to bring 'her boyfriend and girlfriend' over for breakfast.

Taylor might have been okay with it if it was just Greg - but finding out Tattletale was involved was her personal line in the sand.

And on the couch nearby, Simone is awkwardly sitting near Mun - who has been staring at her the entire time they've been in the room together.

You, of course, are watching the entire debacle unfold invisibly. Because you don't need to find a place to sit when you're intangible.

"Relationships are like plants! You gotta water-"

"Wouldn't have to do paperwork if you would just put a costume back on and-"

"Simone's and Yew are vegetarians-"

"I can do a new thing with my sword and-"

"She's so mean, fun-mom!"

"Even though I'm okay with 'just' mom-"

"The Amazing Adventures of Mouse Protector!"

"I wanna be just like you! Teach me!" Mun finally says, causing your gaze to snap in her direction.

"…Well. first you're going to need to grow about six inches taller." Simone responds warily - like she is waiting for a trap, but can't seem to figure out what the trap is.

"What? No, I mean like- like you went on that thing to Boston, right? And you fought with m-mom?" Mun says, tripping over that last word like she isn't entirely accustomed to using it naturally.

"Yes?" Simone responds, leaning away from the smaller bird girl as she crawls up on the couch to get in the older woman's personal space.

"Well, I wanna be like that! A bad bitch! Who's a bird! A birdbitch!" She insists.

" " " "Language!" " " " Half the people in the room - including Simone - bark at once.

Mun rolls her eyes at them but still calls out; "Sorry!" In the most sickeningly sweet tone you've ever heard in your life.

"Seriously though!" Mun immediately repeats to Simone, practically crawling into the older woman's lap to beam at her.

Simone - for once in her life seeming like she has no idea what to do - glances around the room as though in panic, before pausing on the spot you are invisibly standing in.

There really shouldn't be a way to guess where you are, but you suppose with so many people the number of places you could be standing are limited.

Still creepy though.

You appear for just long enough to make eye contact and then a 'get on with it' gesture at her before vanishing again.

You probably shouldn't have.

"Moooom, Emmy is being creepy and avoiding family breakfast!" Simone says in a sing-song voice. You wince, and Mun whips her head around to stare at the spot Simone is looking at. You try to slink away, but it's too late.

"Emmy! Come eat!" Your Master calls lazily.

You sigh, reappearing and lazily trudging through the room - making sure to deposit your oversized sword in a basket next to the front door that typically holds umbrellas, before heading to the kitchen.

"Ah! Eldest brother! A moment?" Gram asks politely - even though she had stretched her hand out to snag your coat well before she had ever opened her mouth.

"Yo." You respond, pausing to eye your Master - who is having an animated conversation with Mouse about 'super modes', before turning to the sword-turned-girl.

…as opposed to the other sword-turned-girl currently whining about bullying.

"Greg has been telling me about your delightful training sessions, and I was wondering if myself and our girlfriend could come along..?" She asks carefully.

You slowly blink at her.

Once.

"Your girlfriend… who is Tattletale?" You ask in dazed confusion.

"Yes. Ah - she is very shy, though. She'll deny we are dating, if asked." Gram expands.

"Sis, you aren't dating just 'cus you say so." Yew helpfully points out.

"We are, though! When I said so no one refused, so it's the truth!" Gram huffs.

"…How many times did you say it?" Yew asks shrewdly.

"Several." Gram answers primly, her back straightening as though she is under inspection, somehow.

"And… how many times did she refuse?" He continues patiently.

"Less than several." Gram says smugly.

Yew sighs. "Mooom! Gram is harassing some poor woman!" He calls out loudly.

"I'm not!" Gram yells after him heatedly.

"Gram, do what your brother says. It's not nice to harass people." Taylor chides distractedly, turning to address the teal haired woman from the kitchen without actually getting up.

It occurs to you that there's a room where all the adults are, and a room where all the children are - and your Master is inexplicably in the adult room.

You don't know how to feel about that. Especially because you are in the children's room.

"Mother! How could you accuse my lovely sister of that without evidence! She would never make Tattletale's life any harder than–" Simone chimes in, sounding scandalized, and you turn to find her leaning over the edge of the couch watching the conversation you are having, with Mun in bird form standing firmly on her head and nodding along excitedly.

"Never mind. You do you, go get 'em tiger, knock 'em dead, yadda yadda yadda." Taylor says the minute she registers the only person suffering her daughter's attention is Tattletale.

"I think I'm beginning to see why family is so important, Yew." Gram says with a barely suppressed malicious snicker.

"Really?" Yew sighs and slumps in defeat, directing the statement at Simone.

"You wouldn't understand, Yew. You're a boy." Simone says, making a shooing gesture at him, before turning to Gram.

"Now, if I'm not mistaken, brother dearest does his training at school. I'm sure mother could pull some strings to get your lovely girlfriend admitted?" Simone says with a gleam in her eye.

"Ah… well. She doesn't really like school…" Gram says hesitating.

"But sister! Don't you want to be able to show off how lovey-dovey you are? Why, if you don't show up at school with them, how will other people know that they're yours?" Simone points out.

"…True…" Gram mumbles, clearly considering the concept.

Gram looks and acts like a teenager, so it was inevitable that your master would force her into a school in short order, regardless.

And with Greg already going to school…

"You're just doing this to screw with what's-her-face, aren't you?" You ask dryly.

"Brother dear whom I love so much - you wound me. Obviously, all I want is for my family to be happy. As long as my sister is happy… Well, how did the saying go? Eggshells and omelets, yes?" Simone says with a sinister smile on her face.

Mun - who has been excitedly watching this bout of scheming like her own form of television drama, leans over to examine Simone's face for a second - and when she comes back up, you are treated to the most disturbing sight you think you've ever seen.

Not many can claim to have seen a bird make an evil smile, after all.

Monday, March 21st, 2011

Two blocks from the Heap, Brockton Bay

"Where are the walls?" Weiss asks again - probably for about the fifth time so far.

After breakfast, your Master had gone to the effort of pulling the girl and her team through a Gap to bring along to the Mall Opening. Having expected to be called upon, the white-haired girl had been more than prepared with all the tools required to judge the quality and safety of a Dust mine - in fact, contrary to her typical 'combat dress', she is actually wearing a simple pair of workman's overalls, something which the rest of her team had ribbed her over from almost the moment she had revealed them.

But what truly seems to have surprised Weiss, and to some extent the entire contingent of Remnant natives… is that your World has no Grimm.

"The city doesn't have any. This road we're standing on becomes a freeway as it exits the city into the countryside." Taylor explains patiently. She had decided to send the rest of the family ahead with a Gap while she arranged a welcome for your guests.

Needless to say, four additional bizarrely dressed girls around your Master's age sauntering through the streets with well… Nexus has drawn quite a bit of attention.

Not that any of the girls seem to have honestly noticed the stares of all the people they pass. You suppose they might simply be used to it though.

"But- but what about the Grimm! No wait, you said you don't have those- Is this really another world? I thought you were exaggerating or talking about an island or-" Weiss babbles, gesturing around at the otherwise completely normal suburb you are passing through at the moment.

"Just let her get it out of her system, she'll calm down eventually." Yang offers with a dismissive gesture - even as she pauses to turn and follow a biker with her gaze as he passes by on his harley.

"Do you even understand the implications of this? Are you a dolt? Access to another world is- the resources you could leverage!" Weiss half screeches, half complains.

"…interdimensional books…" Blake mutters under her breath.

"Um, I think I watched a TV show about this? Do we need to worry about uh, getting an alien cold or something?" Ruby asks shyly, evidently cowed enough by circumstances to temporarily take leave of her usual boisterous demeanor.

"Of course I do! But I mean, what am I supposed to do about it? If this one wanted to make a major trade deal with someone it wouldn't be with me. I'm just here to see how my kid sister lives." Yang scoffs with a shrug as she turns back to face forward with the rest of you, hands behind her head.

She's lying of course. You can see it on all their faces. They're all a little perturbed by the scope of events. But most of them are doing an admirable job of distracting themselves, if nothing else, and your Master has chosen not to call them on it so… best to let it go, you think.

"I'm–I'm not that much younger than you!" Taylor rattles off instantly, blushing slightly as the blonde reaches around to put her in a headlock and noogie her.

"I dunno, noogie test says I'm still the big sister." Yang says teasingly - probably happy to have something to pay attention to besides her surroundings.

It's the little things that throw everyone off. The scent of gasoline as cars pass by. The lack of flying vehicles. Cellphone towers every few blocks with no obvious defenses on them.

"St-stop! Hey! I'm rich and powerful! You can't noogie me!" Taylor whines - although you note she doesn't break the hold - which she absolutely could.

"'Cus you own a magical castle, right? I'll believe it when I see it!" Yang cheers, continuing to rub your Masters white hair liberally with her fist.

"Um. Yang?" Blake asks at that point, gesturing ahead of the group at the Heap - which is due to open in about thirty minutes, and thus, is positively surrounded by people. You wouldn't say the crowd is blocking road traffic - but only because there is a dojo girl in an orange vest liberally yelling at and physically menacing anyone who tries to walk around the line that has formed at the front gate.

A line which goes all the way to the corner of the building and then out of sight as it curves.

On the opposite side of the street from the castle, several news vans have parked - two of which aren't even local stations, instead looking like a Boston news station and a National news station respectively. They catch sight of your Master and immediately start moving toward her-

Only for a half dozen more of Aspirant's trainees to stream out of a nearby building to block them - seemingly by 'mistake'.

One of the girls jogs over to your group.

"Good morning Boss! We thought you were going to portal in? Miss Hebert–" the woman pauses to take in Taylor's expression at that word before switching her statement up. "Your secretary is expecting you behind the stage near the gate."

"Daaamn. You've got a castle and minions?" Yang says once the visible amazement clears. "Holy shit, you're a princess."

"Please don't call me that. I don't need another weird nickname." Taylor sighs.

"You have nicknames? Are you, like, famous or something?" Ruby asks curiously.

"N-" Taylor begins, only for the woman in workout clothes in front of you to interject - apparently not noticing your Master attempting to speak first.

"Oh she's quite famous! Most of us call her Boss, cus that's what Sensei calls her, but the news has called her The Hopebringer, The Queen of the Bay, The Endslayer-" she begins - and continues - to rattle off as she leads the group around the crowd to the front gate. Every new epithet makes your Master cringe in on herself in embarrassment, even as the dojo girl's expression continues to brighten with admiration.

'Make it stop! This is so- ugh! I'm not five! Why is everything people call me so- so- embarrassing!?' Your Master mentally screeches at you.

'I dunno, I think a lot of them are pretty cool…' you offer in reply.

'You think trench coats are cool! You share tastes with the kid who comes to class cosplaying as their favorite cartoon character! You don't know what cool is!' She snaps back at you.

"Wow, so… you're like… a popstar or something?!" Ruby gushes, whirling to smile at Taylor with her eyes wide with excitement.

"God no!" Taylor responds almost before Ruby even finishes speaking.

"Ruby, you realize I am famous, right?" Weiss says with a sigh, reaching out to snag the shorter girl's hood and physically dragging her away from Taylor.

"It's different! You're like… 'business person' famous!" Ruby complains loudly, earning a snicker from several onlookers.

"Let's–Let's just go inside, okay?" Taylor says with a thin-lipped grimace, tearing a Gap open rather than walk the additional twenty meters to her destination. You can't help but snicker to yourself as you watch her practically dive through the portal without bothering to ensure anyone followed her.

After all, several onlookers are already muttering about your Master's nonexistent pop debut.

It wasn't as if someone like her could go unnoticed in the crowd, after all.

"Ah, Miss Hebert. And… four other colorfully dressed girls. I'm afraid we haven't met before." The Mayor says in a neutral but obviously worried tone that he directs towards Ruby, Yang, Weiss, and Blake.

"We're her friends from another dimension. That's normal here, right?' Blake offers with a casual gesture towards Taylor.

The Mayor… freezes in place for a moment. Like all his muscles simultaneously locked up, then unlocked in a fraction of a second.

It gives him the distinct appearance of a video game character lagging briefly.

"W-Well, I wouldn't say it's outside the realm of normal for… for us." The slightly rotund man says in a pained voice.

"I would suggest you work with him on your mining claim - local authorities always have a lot to gain from the sudden presence of a new industry in their jurisdiction. My Father's preferred method of entry is a few weeks of entirely legal bribes." Weiss explains in a low voice that only you and your Master can hear.

Taylor considers that for a moment, tilts her head from side to side as though making a decision, and then calls out to the mayor - loudly interrupting the awkward conversation he is trying to hold with Ruby about… guns, you think? You weren't paying a lot of attention.

"Hey, I'm planning to start a new revolutionary industry or two here in the bay. We're good, right?" She asks. And for all she uses a polite tone of voice, and smiles a genuine warm smile, you can't help but notice the jolt of tension that runs down the Mayor's spine before he turns to answer her.

"Of course, Nexus–No, I'm sorry, Taylor. We've worked together long enough to be on a first name basis, after all." He says with a smile that speaks leagues about the man's determination.

You are pretty sure most other Mayors would have rolled over and died by now. You can't think of a more disruptive person to have around a city than your Master. And yet… the current Mayor, Dinah's uncle, seems to have resolved himself to just… going with it. To his mind you are certain that your Master is a double-edged sword - exactly what Brockton needs to bounce back from the abject poverty it was in previously… but also the greatest source of danger to the city that currently exists.

Poor guy. Your heart goes out to him. You too understand what it's like to be at the mercy of a woman who you aren't even–

"Ow!" You complain when your Master - for no reason at all - reaches out and swats you on the back of the head.

"WHY!?" You instantly bark out in question.

"You were thinking something mean about me." She says primly.

"How the hell–" You begin, but stop and take a breath. "You know what? Forget it. What are we doing right now?" You ask instead.

"The opening ceremony begins in about fifteen minutes. Your secretary informed me that you would be standing with me for my speech and saying a few words." The Mayor offers politely. In the background, you can see all of team RWBY chatting animatedly, pointing at different parts of the castle from behind the stage where they aren't visible to the public, and thus, are not in danger of coming across as tourists.

Even though they absolutely are tourists.

"I don't have to give a speech or anything?" Taylor asks with some surprise.

"I'm given to understand that your secretary knew better than to test your patience like that." The Mayor responds dryly.

It occurs to you that you still don't know the man's name in any capacity.

He's just 'The Mayor'.

Taylor looks briefly relieved - and then suspicious.

"What's the catch?" She asks immediately.

"Well, I do imagine you'll end up standing on camera for about an hour while I take questions." The man offers politely, but apologetically - you notice he is trying very hard not to acknowledge team RWBY in the room with you, which is… sensible. You vaguely remember Earth Bet actually has international laws pertaining to dimensional travel.

Mostly, 'don't'.

"Aaaand that's my queue. Why don't I see how everyone else is doing while you do… that. I'll take the girls off your hands." You offer politely.

"I'll see you after this, then." Taylor agrees.

"The hell do you need me after this for? I figured we'd open the place, see how everyone is doing, then leave?' You ask.

"I'm hanging out with Vicky, Amy, and Dennis today, remember? Someone has to carry Vicky's stuff, and I like Dennis too much to subject him to that." She says smugly. You scowl at her.

"Fine. You're still holding a grudge about all this, huh?" You ask lamely.

"What, about having a bunch of paperwork signed for me, committing my time to things I didn't want to do? No, never. Perish the thought." Your Master responds dryly to you.

"Touché." You admit, before turning to eye the RWBY girls.

Now, what's the most disruptive possible way you can get revenge?

Your whole dynamic with your Master in this form has been pranking her, after all.

It wouldn't do to accept a loss so easily.

You find Aisha, Mem, Mun, and Dinah all together in Oliver's dance room - the one with the piano in it. As you open the door to the room with your interdimensional visitors in tow, it is to find all four of them posing at the mirror that takes up one entire wall of the room.

"No! Come on, Bird Brain, I keep saying you gotta hover a little bit!" Aisha complains to Mun, who is making somewhat of a T-shaped pose with her arms transformed into black wings while standing behind the group.

"I have to flap my wings to fly, idiot! How do I pose and flap at the same time!?" She snaps back instantly.

"…I could enchant your shoes to--" Mem offers politely, pulling a messenger bag off of one shoulder to withdraw a binder and a pen, already working on the problem. You notice the number 35 on the spine of the binder and shiver.

That girl is going to be an unholy terror when she is an adult.

"No! The last time you enchanted my stuff, it exploded!" Mun yelps, instantly dropping her pose and backing away from the group.

"Maybe if you didn't ask her to enchant your bra so you'd look older, it wouldn't have exploded." Dinah points out.

"Hey! You promised not to talk about that!" Mun - who hasn't noticed you standing behind her at the doorway with a group of people who are now snickering at her - yells at her doppleganger.

Dinah shoots you a surreptitious glance and a smirk before shrugging.

"Woops. Hi Emmy! Is Taylor with you?" She says loudly, causing the occupants of the room to notice you, and Mun to freeze, as though caught doing something particularly embarrassing.

Mostly because she was.

"Sup, munchkin." You call back to her. "Nah, but I got her interdimensional sister or whatever." You add. Then you frown.

"Wait, you already knew that; your power would have told you the second you asked!" You point out.

"We're working on controlling her brain-to-mouth filter. People at school started getting suspicious that she kept mouthing off to them whenever they asked her a question." Aisha explains, butting in and walking right up to you with her arms crossed in front of her.

"Where's my sword, Emmy?" She asks with some annoyance.

"It got up, walked away, and found a boyfriend." You respond plainly. You and Aisha stare at each other for a bit, your gaze communicating that you're actually very sorry about not telling her sooner, and hers communicating… that she literally wants to kill you, but knows she'd never get away with it.

You know, just teenage girl things.

"Are… we interrupting? Should we like… go?" Yang asks from behind you. This, of course, draws the attention of the rest of the room to your visitors.

"Nah, it's fine, they just do this." Mun says, slowly loosening up after her embarrassing display.

"They kind of look like they're about to--" the blond points out, just as Aisha whips her sword off her back and swings it at you.

She's fast, but not… that fast, so you are more than capable of leaning out of the way of the strike, and then deflecting her follow up attempt to kick you in the chest with an open palm.

"Is… that also normal?" Blake asks, as everyone present steps away to observe.

"Believe it or not - yes." Dinah says with a sigh. "No chance she wins, though."

"She's not very good?" Weiss offers more as a suggestion than a question, making a tutting sound of disapproval.

"What? No, she's great. Bet she'd beat any of you. But he's Emmy." Dinah explains, with an expression that says 'nothing for it' on her face.

"Leeeet's not get crazy now. I know Taylor is kind of a big deal, but we aren't exactly pushovers." Yang asserts instantly.

"Yeah! We go to school for it and everything!" Ruby adds, hefting and unfolding her massive scythe for emphasis.

Dinah merely shrugs. "48% odds you lose to us." She says plainly.

"You can't just make up numbers like that!" Ruby complains.

"I can! It's my power!" Dinah shoots back.

The two younger girls turn to eye each other warily - then smile thinly at each other.

"To the combat cells!" Ruby cheers happily.

"We don't have--" You begin to say, only to pause so you can avoid an attack from Aisha before continuing. "--we don't have combat cells. Just the arena in the middle of the grounds."

"To the televised death cage!" Dinah cheers.

"To the death cage!" Ruby repeats.

Weiss and Blake shoot each other a look, and then quickly make for the exit - obviously hoping to avoid the entire ordeal.

"Hey! Where are you going! One for all and all for one, girls!" Yang cheers, stepping over to wrap her arms around both of them before they can escape.

Aisha pauses in her frantic onslaught to scowl at you.

"I'm still mad at you." She posits.

"I didn't even do anything! Why don't you go talk to the damn sword yourself, she's around here somewhere, anyway!" You say with some exasperation.

"How the hell am I supposed to know what she looks like, dumbass?" Aisha responds.

"I mean, her whole outfit and hair have the same color scheme as the sword, but fair enough, I guess. Look, go have fun with the kids and I'll send her over to you, alright?" You offer.

"Fine. Tell Taylor I'm sorry for beating up her sister." Aisha spits before turning to follow the Bratpack and team RWBY out of the room.

"Hah!" Yang barks out at her before the door shuts behind all of them.

Leaving you alone in the room.

"Note to self, next form, woman. I seriously don't understand what's going on with anyone anymore." You grouse to yourself, before turning intangible and haring off to locate Gram.

The first place you check is the roof. Which is surprisingly devoid of most of the pigeons for this time of the morning. Your Master comes up here periodically to bond with the little terrors, feeding and talking to (more like at) them. As much as they function like a city-wide surveillance network, Taylor has taken to treating them more like extremely smart pets than tools. She feeds them, she occasionally plays with the baby pigeons, and she likes to groom them once in a while. The birds themselves seem to enjoy the attention - treating your Master's coming like a festival event.

"Jeeves, my man! What's good?" You call as you arrive on the rooftop, unsurprised to find the pigeon with the distinctly tuxedo-like feather pattern landing on your shoulder the second you arrive.

"Several of us have thumbs now, Master Emmy. Also, I can speak. High Command was wondering if this is an intended reward?" The bird explains, stretching a wing forward to demonstrate the handlike movements of the appendage, making grasping motions at the air.

"The hell? No? Probably? I'll ask, I guess." You respond, surprised. You don't… think your Master did any such thing recently… unless her botched ritual had more knock-on effects than she thought…

"…Actually, the possibility exists that Master hurled the equivalent of magical radiation at most of the planet. Might be a mutation thing." You offer.

"…I… see." Jeeves says slowly.

You find it infinitely amusing that the sapient talking bird your Master created because she was too lazy to get a cellphone with a GPS signal is commenting on the weirdness that seems to follow her around everywhere. There is something… ironic… about it.

"Anyway! I got a task for you guys!" You say cheerfully changing the topic. Jeeves instantly stiffens on your shoulder, switching to a stance vaguely mimicking a parade rest, with his wings folded behind him like human hands.

It looks… insanely uncomfortable.

"Sir." Jeeves says, as if urging you to spit it out so he can get to work.

"It's not a big deal, but if you could tell me where to find Gram? Also you know, security and stuff. Dunno if you noticed but today is a big day." You explain, almost as an afterthought.

"We had noticed, yes. Shall I have the squadrons scrambled for aerial surveillance?" Jeeves asks politely.

"The–you know what. Totally. Do… that. But keep it hygienic, alright? Don't go getting bird shit on anyone!" You warn. Jeeves leans forward and turns to face you with a single gimlet eye that somehow contains nothing if not the pure essence of scorn within it.

"Sir. We aren't animals." He warns you in as close to a threatening tone as Jeeves ever gets.

"Right. Sorry. Current emulation is… blunt." You explain, rubbing the back of your head and doing your utmost to suppress Dante's tendency to tease or harass people just for the sake of it.

"I understand sir. If you could, I have a lot of money down that your next form is a bird of some kind." Jeeves hints, returning to his parade rest.

"You… have money?" You ask incredulously.

"Of course. Did you think the Great One didn't pay us?" He asks in confusion.

You… actually didn't. You kind of thought they were paid in birdseed or something.

"Doesn't matter. I'm gonna check with the team while you locate Gram for me, okay?" You say, deflecting.

"Of course, sir." Jeeves says.

You have to say, hearing a middle-aged British man's voice coming out of a pigeon from Massachusetts is… something.

But if anyone is gonna cast the first stone about roleplaying a character…

It probably shouldn't be you.

By the time you reach Trainwreck's garage, the mall has officially been opened. The halls of the Heap - usually empty and labyrinthine - are full to bursting with people zig-zagging about, going in and out of stores, hanging out in the halls, or even several groups of obviously delinquent teens sitting on the benches that line the halls.

There are dozens of stores throughout the area, hundreds when you take into account the size of the building and the amount of it dedicated to just the mall.

And as much as you could use the employee tunnels lining the building in order to get to the garage in peace… you have always been something of a people watcher. Plus, you can be invisible.

So it is only natural that you find your way to the main entrance to Trainwreck's garage - only to find it surrounded by a cluster of people obscuring the door.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please! Trainwreck doesn't do commission work! Or tours!" A female voice warns from the doorway.

"Hey wait! I-I'm not a customer. I just want his number! I'm a talent scout - we want Trainwreck to be on the next season of Cape Heights!"

"FAUX News would also–"

"We were here first! The History channel wants him to host a show about monster trucks!"

"The hell is going on here?' You ask no one in particular, appearing at the rear of the crowd.

"The price of fame." A familiar, annoyed-sounding voice responds from off to one side. You turn to find a woman you vaguely recognize standing in jeans and an unseasonably thick looking sweater, her arms crossed and one finger tapping angrily on her upper arm as she waits at the back of the crowd.

"Sorry? Taylor's been famous for a while now and she never has to deal with this." You point out, still trying to place the woman. The hair is… you feel like you recognize her…

"Nexus uses her mover power to go everywhere and the sharks know better than to harass a cape in their home or at school. You should be thankful that we established that precedent. Life could be a lot harder for you." The woman says acerbically, the tempo of her tapping finger increasing substantially as she eyes the crowd.

The rude tone is what does it, as recognition snaps into place. You didn't immediately recognize her because she isn't in costume, and her hair is pulled into a loose ponytail - but this is Alexandria standing across from you. In her casual clothes.

You immediately stiffen and go on guard.

"Should I call Taylor now, Miss Brown?" You ask tensely. The woman rolls her eyes at you in response.

"No, but you should tell her she needs to get with Piggot about all those people we're getting reports of. We aren't happy about it, but some well-placed portals to assist in the movement of goods and personnel to affected areas would incline the PRT to be less… unhappy… about the situation she has caused. Not that I would know." She says flatly.

"So what are you here for, then?" You push.

"…My… date…" She says through grit teeth. If she wasn't indestructible, you are pretty sure she would have cracked a tooth by now with the force being applied by her jaw.

"What!? That's–how is Trainwreck going to get some before--" You pause, glancing from Alexandria, to the crowd, and back again.

"You set this up so you wouldn't be able to talk to him, didn't you?" You posit.

"No." She says blankly.

"Oh my god, you did! Hah! Hang on, I'll go get him right now!" You cheer, vanishing from sight and passing through the crowd. You pause for a moment to stare at the upper half of a machine that looks like a woman with no skin- so basically, like a Terminator - that is warning people away from the door while perched on a table.

Then you swiftly put it out of mind as you pass through the door.

"Yo! Metal head! Alexandria's here for your date!" You call out into the dimly lit room full of machine parts.

"I FUCKING KNOW! Quick, portal me out! Get me to uh, fuck, I don't care, I get vacation hours right? I wanna do one right now. Get the boss to drop me in Costa Rica - I'll be back! By the time I get here, everyone will think I'm dead!" The giant in power armor half-screams at you as he jogs around a pile of metal to put both his mechanical hands on your shoulders.

He's so big, it's more like he's pinching your shoulders between the thumb and forefinger. But the sentiment is there.

"…I thought you wanted to go on a date with Alexandria? You literally asked for it!" You say, slapping his hands off your shoulders.

"I was being a jackass! No one is ever supposed to say yes when I ask that! I'm a freak ball of meat in a metal coffin that fakes having thumbs! I can't date someone! I'm fucking subhuman!" He practically bellows into your face.

Well. That's… a lot to deconstruct. Your first thought is to commiserate with him on your mutual inhumanity - Dante has had similar difficulties in his life after all. But then it occurs to you that the differences between the two of you are… quite vast. Dante's differences never, at any point, made him less than human. From a practical standpoint, he was just a human with superpowers and albino hair. Coming from him, anything he might say on the topic would just come across as… mocking, almost.

But you are more than just Dante. You are Multiversal Emulator. And Trainwreck is your friend.

"Look, man, I get it. I do. Maybe… Maybe we can ask about solutions later? You know Taylor already offered to do the whole reincarnation thing for you…" You put forth slowly.

"Look, Emmy, buddy. Love you and the boss to bits, but I ain't letting her rip my soul out." Trainwreck says flatly.

"Fine. I don't know what to tell you, man - you've got TV producers out there screaming bloody murder for a piece of you. You're famous, you're cool, there are illegally produced knockoff toys of you that children love… you're like, the face of all 53's. If you can't get your shit together for yourself, think about all the other people like you who think they're subhuman garbage. Think about what it'd mean to them if you went out there and signed onto a few of those shows." You offer, drawing on Po for guidance.

"I mean… I guess…" He says slowly. Inwardly, you groan at his reluctance.

"Think about all the other Case 53's who think they'll never find anybody! Think about what it'd mean to them if you-"

"Were banging Alexandria?" Trainwreck tries tentatively.

"…Sure." You say with a sigh.

"I mean, you know. Not right away. A lady deserves flowers and a nice dinner and shit, and–fuck, I gotta make a suit that looks like a tuxedo now!" The tinker yells in sudden consternation.

"Really buddy? Really?" You say in exasperation.

"Hey, I don't wanna hear it! That woman already hates me. She ain't gonna like me any better when she finds out I'm just a tentacle monster under all this shit!" He says, rapping his knuckles against his armor.

You… pointedly refrain from telling him how popular he'd be in Japan.

"So… should I let her in or..?" You try.

"I–fuck it, yeah, sure." Trainwreck says begrudgingly. "We can talk while I work on my tux suit."

"Uhuh…" You mutter before ghosting back out the door to reappear next to the Protectorate heroine.

"Alright folks move aside, VIP in the house, Trainwreck's girlfriend is here!" You call out, physically reaching out to pick up the nearest person and setting them to the side. Very quickly, a corridor opens up between you and the door to the garage, and Alexandria shoots you an irate glare even as the surroundings begin to recognize her.

"Isn't that retired Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown? She's with-"

"Big news, big news!"

The muttering in the crowd only serves to further piss off the already high strung woman, but - being here in her secret identity - she can only continue to shoot you a withering glare as you mouth the words 'have fun' at her before setting off again.

Hopefully Aspirant is having an easier time than this.

The grounds being as busy as they are, you are unsurprised to find Aspirant's dojo positively swarmed by people.

What you expected somewhat less than that, is for a majority of those people to be mothers.

"You're doing great, dear!" One woman calls from the crowd outside, where Aspirant is leading roughly two dozen children through a series of simple exercises while his normal disciples race about the area mingling with the parents, assuring people of his skills, and handing out flyers. One of the women stands out, however, mostly because she is… somewhat more supportive than the rest.

"Attain martial supremacy, Aiden! Do it for Aunty!" A woman with long flowing blue hair cheers as she waves around a massive flag reading 'Aiden' on it from the front of the crowd. A small boy standing nearest to Aspirant winces slightly at the chant, but pauses in his exercises for a second to wave back at her.

"He's yours?" You ask, appearing next to the woman - mostly out of sheer curiosity. You've got a finely-honed sense for such things, and, well…

This woman definitely isn't human.

"Adopted. I do my best to support him–your hips! Twist your hips!" She says before yelling out to Aiden - the bizarre child the Bratpack brought home one day who just… never left. You are pretty sure he has a room in the castle somewhere and that the dojo girls have been taking turns checking in on him. You were under the impression he was homeless, if you were being honest - and so has everyone else, no matter what he says about a mysterious benefactor.

Only that benefactor is now apparently standing right next to you, entirely unconcerned with your sudden appearance - unlike all of the other parents nearby who immediately flinch away from you as you made yourself known.

"He seems like a good kid. I dunno if you know this, but we've been kind of putting him up for a while…" You say leadingly, curious what she has to say about the topic.

"Yes, thank you for the room! We both like it very much. Although it could stand to be closer to the Hebert wing." The woman says distractedly.

"I… don't think anyone can remember seeing you around." You say slowly, eyeing the definitely-not-a-human being again.

"Oh, I'm around. Kind of like you, really. Oh! Blessed child, why don't you introduce us to your family later? I would love to finally meet Da- Nexus." She says almost too casually.

You lean away from her to consider that for a second.

On the one hand - introducing a middle-aged single woman to Danny Hebert was kind of like giving someone their first hit of cocaine. It was inevitable that they'd be back eventually.

On the other hand - it would be hilarious.

'Sorry, future me. I'm gonna cause some problems for you again.' You think lackadaisically.

"Sure. I'll get it done. Do I just tell the kid and you'll find out later with your creepy stalker powers, or..?" You ask curiously.

"I'll be sure to listen in." The… honestly you have no idea what the hell she is, says without a hint of shame in her voice.

"Great. If you'll excuse me." You say easily, catching Aspirant's eye - there was no way he'd miss your appearance - and gesturing to his office with a nod of your head. He nods back at you, and quickly sweeps the group up to finish the routine, before having several of the dojo girls take over for him in leading different groups through different activities - retreating inside once that is all set.

Naturally, you ghost in after him.

"Hey kid. How's the MILF Dojo doing?" You say lightly, only to lift an eyebrow when Aspirant turns an irate look on you.

"That's incredibly demeaning. Do not call it–them, that." He says politely. You blink at him.

"My bad. Just… making a joke." You offer.

"I understand. However, these women have been loyal friends from the beginning to us. I won't see them slandered." Aspirant says in a toneless voice. You wince.

"I get it, okay? Geez." You grumble.

"Good. So! Do you think Taylor would be up to an… exhibition match today? I have some things I would like to try against a worthy opponent." Aspirant asks in a much more relaxed tone.

"I think she's got a date today, actually. But I'll float the idea to her." You offer, eager to repair what damage you may have done to your relationship.

"…A… date? Taylor? How?" The teen asks incredulously, momentarily dropping his all-knowing kung fu master act.

"Oh, she doesn't know it's a date." You explain with a shrug, and Aspirant visibly relaxes.

"Ah. That makes much more sense. I doubt there are many who would bother challenging her to a fight like she asked. Cowards." He says sternly, crossing his arms.

"Being a little obvious today, buddy." You point out teasingly, causing the Oathbound's one and only Changer to splutter at you.

"Not–That isn't why I asked–! I just wanted to–shut up!" He finally yells at you in a sulky voice.

"Hey, I'm not judging. You're young, I get it." You say, raising your hands in surrender. In passing, you notice a stack of flyers in one corner of the office and pick one up.

"What's this?" You ask curiously, eyeing the thing. It appears to be a flyer with a hastily edited image of your team on it, calling for people to participate in a fighting tournament. The thing is… you have no idea who came up with this or when it was announced.

"Ah… the girls wanted to have a small get-together to hold a tournament. I saw no reason to deny them. I still have to clear it with Taylor." He admits immediately. "I have been somewhat preoccupied with my training. "

"Huh. Can I keep this?" You ask, stuffing the piece of paper into your pocket before he even answers.

"We have more than we need, really. I'm not sure why we printed them at all - everyone who would care already knows about it." Aspirant responds with a shrug.

You grunt in acknowledgement, then turn your head to look out the window at the swarms of people passing through the grounds.

"You checked on Parian today?" You ask curiously, gesturing to the boutique just across the way from the dojo.

"Not since the meeting shortly before everyone arrived today. I assume she is doing fine, and would call for help if she needed it." He answers.

Well. That tracks, at least.

"Oliver, I need you to pick up the damn pace!" Parian yells over her shoulder, her face a rictus of fury and despair.

"I'm trying! I have super skills and all, but I still only learned to do this like twenty minutes ago!" Oliver bites back at her.

The extremely comical sight of Huntsman in his dark, imposing, costume - complete with massive rifle slung over one shoulder - rapidly and expertly sewing together tiny pieces of clothing, presumably for dolls of some kind, is absolutely hilarious to you.

"I might be able to help?" Maddison, who is wearing her school uniform and otherwise sitting cross-legged in one corner of the room in a meditative pose with a book in her lap, offers without opening her eyes.

"I will literally do anything for this to be over." Oliver admits without a second of hesitation.

"Shut up! I'm a designer! I'm famous and I want to make clothes! Why are these stupid doll things selling so fast!? I didn't even make that many of them!" Parian hisses back at them, even as fabric and thread stream around her, rapidly congealing into a simple humanoid shape that gets instantly hurled at Oliver, who begins quickly attaching bits of felt and such to the doll to simulate eyes, hair, and a mouth.

You observe curiously as a tiny stylized plushie doll representing Nexus takes shape in the boy's hands - and then is quickly hurled over one shoulder into a pile of similar dolls.

All of which look like one or more members of your team, in addition to ones that match all your past emulations.

You also notice, humorously, that they all seem to share the same comical design. Short nubby limbs set into a seated position, round oversized heads, large solid-colored half-lidded eyes and mouths set into tiny smiles, frowns or neutral expressions. All of them looking seemingly bored, smugly satisfied or disapproving.

They are... surprisingly adorable, you note. You can see why they would be so popular.

Suddenly, you startle out of your stupor when you realize one of your own arms was slowly reaching towards one of the Yukari-shaped plushies on its own volition.

What... What form of power is this?!

"I mean, hypothetically, flow state is sort of like an emotion, right?" Maddison says, ignoring your inner struggle and Parian's snippy attitude.

"Do you even know what power that would get you?" Oliver asks curiously, causing the diminutive girl to take on a pensive expression.

"Feels like it could be hypercompetence?" She offers slowly, deliberately - like every word out of her mouth is calculated and deliberate.

"You thought joy was going to be flying." Oliver points out.

"Super bouncing counts!" She snaps, before cursing and hurriedly taking a deep breath, clearly working to disperse the red aura that had started to flow off of her at her words.

"Sorry." Oliver apologizes instantly.

"Less talking! More doll making!" Parian snaps.

"They're plushies." Maddison notes in a neutral tone without opening her eyes.

"They're the worst idea I've ever had is what they are!" Parian half yells and half cries.

"I mean, you're making tons of money right? You can reinvest in--" Oliver tries.

"Plushies." Maddison says again.

Parian lets loose another weak, defeated, sob.

"Have no fear, bae is here!" Simone yells, kicking the door to the workroom open and stepping through, only to freeze like a deer in the headlights when she notices there are people here besides Parian.

At least, you assume that's why she freezes.

You've no idea why she'd be wearing an elaborate, clearly magical dress that appears to be made out of motes of clouds that drift around her in just such a way as to maintain her modesty.

"What, were you outside modeling or something?" You ask curiously, choosing that moment to appear.

"...Do you do this on purpose, brother? Did I offend you in a past life?" She asks you slowly, lowering the hand she shoved the door open with and demurely stepping past the threshold so it swings shut behind her.

"I mean…" You say leadingly, thinking of the Simurgh.

"Oh. Right." She responds neutrally.

"Help or go away!" Parian barks, using several spools of thread to yank two more chairs towards the workstation Oliver is sitting at.

"I-I was thinking I would model your lovely dress outside? To… draw attention to your beauty–beautiful work?" Simone tries, edging backwards towards the door and eyeing all the manual labor going on with a look of wary distaste. The clouds making up her dress begin to roil and seethe as they flow around her.

You would think a dress made out of clouds would cover less but, for all it swirls about, and you do catch the occasional slip of skin, the dress itself covers almost all of Simone's body up to the neck, and trails behind her like a small cape where it meets the floor.

Parian turns to eye her for several seconds, clearly weighing the decision. Simone, of course, takes this as an invitation to pose at her, which… well, it's very awkward watching your sister fail to seduce your coworker, is what you are saying.

But the look Simone gives you when you start to think about stepping in is more than enough to dissuade you from getting involved.

"Well, I'll just get going, then–" You say, slowly backing away from the entire situation.

Only for a net of threads to ensnare you from behind.

"Where are you going?" Parian says thinly.

"...anywhere but here?" You try.

"We pre-made most of the facial features. Olly will show you how to sew them on. I'll apologize to Taylor later." Parian says succinctly, physically depositing you in a chair.

You groan.

Well, there goes your morning.

When you check back in with your Master shortly before her definitely-not-a-date… who is she with?

[ ] Trainwreck

[ ] Gram

[ ] Yew

[ ] The Bratpack & Team RWBY

[ ] Aspirant

[ ] Mouse Protector

[ ] Jess

[ ] Danny

[ ] She's already found Vicky & Amy actually

[ ] She's already found Dennis actually

A/N: I'm sorry! I wanted to just keep going and get it all out there but oh my god this chapter got so fucking long! Part Two will come later! Please spare me!

Special thanks to all the people who beta'd this for me over the last week or so - it's the longest chapter I've written in a while and it was hell to do, even though I cut it off in the middle just I would be able to post today. So thanks go out to Gooey, DragonGrimoire, bLuewErewOlf25, and Phearo for the suggestions and comments!

Last edited: Jul 28, 2022

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Bowler Hat Guy

Jul 28, 2022

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Aug 18, 2022

#48,051

[X] The Bratpack & Team RWBY

[X] Reinforcements. While the lone titan fights, dozens more just like it are slowly being assembled in the distance. Where one stems the tide, a dozen…

Current Training: Swordmaster Style 7/10 - Complete!

Current Energy: 8

Current Emulation Status: Here

Monday, March 21st, 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

"We're out. That's it. It's over." Parian says not more than an hour later.

In that hour, you have helped build dozens of little dolls patterned after each of your teammates and former incarnations. At one point Parian had even seen her way to making a doll of your current form for an excited child who simply couldn't tolerate anything else.

It is the first and - judging by Parian's expression - only Dante doll there is. You hope that kid appreciates that.

Spoiler

"I mean, there's a lot of materials back here - you totally could make-"

"Oliver, I know where you sleep." Parian warns the blonde fool at the same time as you frantically start making 'shut up' gestures with your hands from behind her.

You have absolutely no interest in being trapped here all day making dolls.

"I don't." Madison says flatly, shooting a suspicious look at her boyfriend and then Parian in turn, with a sickly green color slowly emanating from her.

"First off, he's underage. Gross. No offense, Olly." The seamstress says with thinly veiled weariness coloring her tone.

"None taken. I… think." Oliver offers up hesitantly, leaning slightly away from both women in the room as though unsure if he might be in danger somehow.

Good instincts on that one, at least in Dante's opinion. It's usually harder not to be in trouble when women are involved.

"Second, I'm entirely uninterested in where a man happens to sleep." Parian adds dryly when it becomes obvious that Madison isn't satisfied. And at that statement, the short girl blushes furiously and the color surrounding her flickers to a bright, almost reddish pink.

"Ah." She breathes out, and then she starts floating two feet off the ground in a fetal position, covering her face in embarrassment. Oliver quickly pulls a notepad out of his belt and starts noting something down.

"Embarrassment is flight, then." He says brightly, completely ignoring the obvious parahuman power at work and instead gently tugging his girlfriend down to ground level, where he pulls her hands away from her face and makes eye contact with her for a solid fifteen seconds before the glow surrounding her begins to fade.

It's uncomfortable in a way that makes you distinctly feel like you shouldn't have seen any of that, but neither of the two teens seem to care or so much as address it, because Oliver turns to Parian with a nod on his face.

"So, do you think you'll need me any longer, or..?" He asks her carefully.

"Oh–ah, go have fun." Parian says jerkily, evidently just as put off by the display as you. Not because it's dangerous… just, personal.

"On that note - I think I'm gonna go see how the kids are doing. I think they went to try to set the death arena thing up in the courtyard a while ago. Should be good by now." You say with a jaunty wave, before vanishing into your phantom form.

"Tell Taylor she owes me some free advertising. I have a dress here I'm sure she'll hate." Parian calls after you, knowing enough of how you work to know that you probably aren't gone just because you're invisible.

So, naturally, you reappear instead of leaving, because you are nothing if not a fan of screwing with your Master.

"How bad are we talking here?" You ask.

"Bright. Pink." Is all the Shaker has to say in response.

You grin.

Point of View - Aisha Laborn

She subconsciously recognized Gram before she made a direct connection between the weird teal-haired woman and the sword that - up until very recently - rested in a tree not too far away from where she was currently standing.

She was standing with that dumb blond guy who had joined her brother's dumb team recently.

Well.

She said 'recently' but most people in the city neatly separated things by whether they occurred before Nexus took over the city, or after. Nexus never formally declared it, and no one said it out loud - but there was the unspoken agreement that Brockton was hers, and you were much better off just acting accordingly.

It probably helped that the woman had a bizarre tendency to pour tremendous amounts of money, manpower, and assistance into whatever random thing caught her attention that day. Many of the Mom & Pop shops in the city had explicitly and painstakingly curated themselves to take advantage of things the media speculated Taylor was 'in to', and any time a cause seemed to be righteous enough, a bunch of the nice women from the dojo would show up to work there or protect it or… just stand near it in lycra shorts and tank tops.

Aisha would call it a protection racket - the same as any gang was likely to do - except they were more likely to donate money to something than to extort it from you.

The upshot was that Aisha had experienced, for perhaps the first time since the puberty fairy had dropped her breasts off in the mail, absolutely no creepy stares from the adult men around her.

The downside was that she had been forced to tone back her preferred form of teasing when she realized she was probably getting the random dudes that thought she was eighteen beaten up in an alleyway.

The other downside was that her team of like-minded girls with attitude (she wanted to copyright that) had done… very little crime fighting. They'd done a few interesting busts on normal thugs who were running laundered money around, but the local criminal element seemed allergic to doing any visible crime.

And yes, she grasped that she was complaining that the city had stopped being a wretched hive of scum and villainy. It was just… frustrating. It was so frustrating that she was getting dangerously close to having the girls pack an overnight bag and then getting Emmy to take them to Boston for a weekend.

Surely the thugs there were the right combination of confident and distant from Nexus to have some balls, right?

"How are we on the televised murder arena thing Wizard G- I mean, uh, Merlin?" Aisha asked, tearing her eyes away from where Gram was standing with those two blondes and setting her mouth in a thin line when the blond girl started whispering something urgently in Gram's ear that left the living sword snickering in Aisha's direction.

She felt a pit open up in her stomach at that. She tried not to assume the worst, but it was so… so frustrating. She loved her current weapon. She loved it to bits and wouldn't change it for the world.

But earning Gram was how she had always planned to prove she was worth something - and not just some pissant with powers from Brockton. Hell, she didn't even really have powers. Everything she had was an unearned gift.

She would never forget Sigurd, or… Emmy… for that. Never.

But she was starting to feel the strain of living up to it more and more with every passing day. People called her and her friends the junior Oathbound - the Ward's equivalent to Nexus' team.

And the longer that comparison went on, the more it rankled. The more it burned going down, like she wouldn't, and probably couldn't, ever match up to the person she was nominally sidekicking for.

It made her feel sick just thinking about it.

Not that it would have been visible through her motorcycle helmet, which she kept firmly affixed to her head the whole time she was here today.

After all, her brother would be out and about - and there was no way that would go well for her.

"I am almost ready to–" Mem began but was cut off.

"Merlin's a boy's name." Mun complained pointedly.

"He was a great Wizard." Mem countered instantly, defending her most recent choice of name. None of them really had cape names yet. Sure, they had a bunch they wanted to use, but no matter what they called each other, the news always went with Wizard Girl, or Bird Brain, or whatever other nonsense name Aisha had come up with on the spot for their debut.

The vaguely belittling way they said them didn't help much at all with Aisha's growing sense of inadequacy. Which was frustrating because while most people viewed her team as a passing of the torch - much like the Wards often went on to champion their own Protectorate teams - Aisha was pretty sure Taylor had never considered it as such. They were just a side project. A bunch of kids she helped because she could. There was no expectation, because Taylor - in her characteristic way - probably didn't foresee a problem she would ever have to back down from.

"Guys, they aren't going to call you Merlin or Birdpo- Birdpoc-" Dinah said absently, stuttering over the moniker Mun had chosen for today.

"Birdpocalypse." The dark haired duplicate of their Thinker supplied with a scowl.

"Right. That. No one is going to call you that." She repeated - though she was hardly paying attention to them as she bounced from foot to foot in anticipation. Aisha watched with some curiosity as Mem finished carving one last line into the hunk of stone they were in front of - one of several ringing the courtyard - and the symbol she was carving abruptly lit up. It was matched by similar runes carved throughout the courtyard, and soon a giant glowing dome filled the space - and a projection of what was going on within was writ large across the sky like a television that touched the horizon.

"Nah, they'll do it." Aisha finally said, pulling her sword off her back and rolling her shoulders beneath the stifling heat of her leather jacket.

"We'll make them." She added, before striding into the arena with her team behind her, to meet the visitors from another world in combat.

Point of View - Multiversal Emulator

You find your Master standing in one of the hallways on the third floor, gazing longingly out of the large window down into the courtyard.

"Okay, but hear me out." Yew says quickly as you invisibly approach, lifting his massive hands and forming a square frame out of the forefinger and thumb with both hands.

Spoiler

"What if I buy you somewhere else to make a garden?" Taylor interjects before he can finish.

"But… I wanted it to be at home - with us." Yew remarks, instantly deflating and letting his hands drop down to his sides.

Taylor winces as though struck.

"O-okay uh… What's wrong with the outside of the building? We could raise some bushes instead of the chain link fence that's already there?" Taylor offers quickly.

"I… guess. But- a garden is supposed to be at the heart of the home!" Yew, for lack of a better word, pouts. He crosses his arms in front of him like a disappointed child, and the shirt he is wearing - one of Danny's - flexes and stretches in ways that would probably distract your Master more if he wasn't effectively her son.

"Where… exactly… did you get that from? And I'm really sorry Yew, but-" Taylor pauses, to gesture out the window where what is effectively a massive battle arena has begun to take shape. "-I don't have a lot of hobbies but I really love having this in my backyard." She finishes lamely.

"That's your ma's way of saying she's constantly jonesing for a fight." You say in a sarcastic drawl as you appear next to Taylor. Neither of the two so much as remark upon your arrival, and Yew even has the gall to turn his mother's patented lifted eyebrow on you.

"I do not." Taylor defends herself instantly.

"She totally does." You repeat. Yew's expression screws up in thought, and then he smiles widely at the both of you.

"Gardening For Dummies. What if the garden could kill you?" He tries. Taylor - bless her battle maniac soul - instantly turns her full attention on her giant progeny.

"I'm listening." She says attentively.

"I could do a bunch of super plants-" Yew starts again.

"Could you guarantee they wouldn't kill anyone they weren't supposed to?" Taylor interrupts before pausing to shoot a sheepish look at Yew for the interruption.

"Duh! I could get Mem to help me? Or that girl who likes you? Uh… the healer one?" Yew asks.

You freeze, staring blankly at your - sort of - nephew. Then you turn to Taylor, waiting for her to respond to someone putting that out there.

"Amy? You've met? Don't worry about her seeming grumpy, she's like that with everyone. She'll grow on you." Taylor says dismissively.

Yew blinks at her, then opens his mouth as though to say something, then closes it again. He shoots you a questioning look, then - when you just shrug at him - he turns back to Taylor.

"Yeah… Grandpa took sis and I to the PRT yesterday to make sure neither of us had magic cancer or something." Yew explains with the air of a confused dog about him. You try to send him a reassuring look but that just seems to make him more confused.

Taking pity on the poor guy, you clear your throat and gesture out the window, back into the courtyard - which now has people watching it from every window in the building. Well, every window facing the courtyard.

You imagine the halls of the Heap are quite crowded right now. A large crowd has even started to gather at the edges of the courtyard itself.

It's not like it's everyday you get to safely watch a bunch of parahumans beat the stuffing out of each other.

"They're starting." You say innocently as Dinah skips out into the center of the glowing dome in the yard to stand across from the black haired girl from Remnant.

What was her name again? Blane?

Predictably, the prospect of watching people fight is more than enough to draw your Master's attention away from Yew and back down into the courtyard - and you make a mental note to explain the Hebert obliviousness to your nephew.

Later.

For now, you aren't much better than your Master when it comes to what interests you.

You wonder if you have time to grab a sundae from the kitchen?

Point of View - Dinah

"Hi! Um, I don't know what your cape name is back where you come from, but I'm Number Girl!" Dinah chirped pleasantly at her opponent as she marched out into the central courtyard. She tried really hard not to feel self conscious about the situation.

Unfortunately, she had chosen to take part in a televised cage match while wearing a costume that was so obviously a riff on Nexus' own that she was finding that… very difficult.

'Just… Just do your best. Yep. Nothing for it but that. Totally. Oh God, what if my hat falls off? It shouldn't, I have a little band holding it on like in that video I watched but-' She thought to herself, instantly tuning out to panic on the inside as was her tendency.

People, she had come to realize, didn't like it when the precog started to freak out. There was the default assumption that because she could 'see the future' that the only reason for her to panic would be if she foresaw something catastrophic. Never mind that she was a teenage girl with anxiety - every adult she met seemed to think her antics were 'cute', and not the desperate flailing of a girl who's particular flavor of future sight wasn't all that helpful in most situations.

Like right now. When her power was giving her forty-something percent odds of victory.

In front of half the city.

…Aaaaaand her personal hero.

Aaaaaaaaand her whole friend group.

"We just use our names. I'm Blake and… Are you okay?" The dark haired older girl across from her asked.

"Fine! I'm fine! I uh- I mean- you know, I wanted to have a cool name, like, one of the mythology ones? All the big capes here have mythology names. I wanted Oracle or something, but then the news was all like 'Look, it's Number Girl!' And now there's only like a 14.7% chance that I get called something else before I turn eighteen, so that's kind of depressing, and-" She clamped her mouth shut, realizing she had started to babble.

"Uh…huh…" Blake responded back to her, slightly lowering the weird… scythe… gun… thing… that was evidently her weapon.

"Sorry! I'm just nervous!" Dinah quickly apologized, putting a weak smile on her face as her own words played back to her in the sky overhead.

'Oh God, how far away can people see that? Oh my God, this is so embarrassing!' She mentally screeched.

"So… Do we just go on three, or-" Blake asked, glancing up nervously.

Somehow, seeing that the other girl was just as out of her depth as she was made Dinah feel a lot better.

"Um. I could ask Taylor to-" Dinah started awkwardly.

"That won't be necessary." A male voice interrupted, and she found Aspirant having… suddenly appeared in the dome with her. The surprise was enough that Dinah immediately fell back on a spot check strategy that Aisha had been running her through.

Basically, as far as any of them could tell, lots of cape fights came down to how the other person's power worked, and how much you knew about it ahead of time. So naturally the best use of Dinah's power was…

'Did he teleport in? 7.6%. Invisible? 31.5%. Did he just… jump straight here from wherever he was before this? He'd have to jump straight over the whole building, so there's no way- 89.4%.' Dinah blinked, staring blankly at the pearlescent brute and wondering if he had just dropped everything he was doing to referee this fight. The entire series of questions took barely a second - Dinah could think much faster than she could speak, and her Aura seemed to take the brunt of the 'damage' her power would generally cause her when asking rapid-fire questions.

Still, she had to be careful with it. There had definitely been one or two times where she had accidentally used up all her protective Aura asking too many questions too fast. The trick was to narrow down what she needed to ask as fast as possible. She could see snippets of the potential futures her power foresaw, but not accurately enough to act on them directly. Still, even a slight context clue was a huge advantage.

"I will monitor the fight. When I say stop - you stop. If I have to intervene, there will be consequences. Understood?" The older boy asked patiently, almost by rote.

"Yes!" Dinah agreed instantly, clenching and unclenching her fists with nervous energy.

"…Yes." Blake responded suspiciously, her eyes lingering on the sheer white material that makes up the Oathbound brute's helm before turning back to Dinah.

"Excellent. I'm going to throw a coin into the air - when it hits the ground, you may begin." Aspirant says calmly, preferring a coin from… somewhere - Dinah supposed there could be pockets under his armor - and holding it out between them.

Now, Dinah wasn't exactly a professional at this - yet - but she figured she would want to be as close as possible to a fighter that had a gun so she could close the gap.

So she inched as far forward as she could manage, and prayed she wasn't being too obvious about doing so.

It was at times like these that she really appreciated being the only one of her friends to have an easily figured out and obvious 'semblance', or as Taylor loved to call them, 'personality-based superpowers'.

She was Bouncy.

Not 'made of rubber', not 'elastic', no. Neither of those things adequately explained what her power was, because the composition of her body didn't change. It wasn't so much that she was 'constantly' bouncing, or rubbery, or whatever else. It was more like she could arbitrarily decide that things would bounce when they touched her. The concrete could be a trampoline if she wanted it to be. As could anything she made physical contact with. She wasn't overly fond of getting shot at, but when she was ready for it, she'd even managed to have several of those bounce off of her - although her success rate was maybe one in every eight bullets that hit her.

No matter how enhanced Aura made her, predicting and deflecting moving bullets was still kind of a stretch.

Regardless, that was one more power than she was supposed to have, and from what she could gather online, no Parahuman should be able to acquire new permanent powers after triggering.

You were supposed to be stuck with what you got. And for Dinah, that would have been miserable - before meeting Nexus, she could foresee nothing but futures where she was abused for her singular ability to predict the future.

Now she could protect herself, wear a cool costume, and go out with her friends!

So suffice to say, she really didn't want to lose.

At that moment, Aspirant flicked the coin into the air and backed up.

And Dinah moved, kicking off from where she was standing with 'bounce' for additional momentum and swinging her torso around to shoulder check Blake with all her might.

The attack, quite predictably, failed.

Not so much because it didn't connect, but rather, because Dinah found herself ripping through a Blake shaped bundle of dust that abruptly exploded as she crashed into it.

The explosion wrenched a yelp of pain from her as it sent her sprawling, but it burned her more than anything else - and Dinah was painfully familiar with pain. She could remember whole futures where all she could feel was pain. Pain and a desperate longing for 'candy'.

So she powered through it, and she kept her eyes on the prize. Even before she hit the ground her mind was ablaze with questions. She had a list. Aisha drilled her on it constantly. She wasn't a combat precog - but she could damn well fake it.

'Behind? Above?' She rapidly asked her power, reeling off directions an attack could come from.

'31.3, 17.8, 16.9, 70-' She immediately cut herself off at the spike in probability, and the dim mental image of someone stomping on her head as she landed.

Her shoulder hit the ground, and her legs folded up over top of her as her knees slammed into her chest. It was probably terribly embarrassing looking, but she didn't have time to care, instead willing herself to bounce.

All at once, like a tightly wound spring suddenly uncoiling, she was flung upward and straightened herself out, ending up six feet in the air with her head pointing at the ground and her two feet colliding with the downward striking foot of her attacker.

And she smiled. A horrible, feral smile.

She didn't know it, but it was at precisely this moment that most of the onlookers accepted that maybe - just maybe - she had a right to a costume so clearly patterned after Nexus.

Point of View: Multiversal Emulator

"Oh, holy shit yes!" You scream out in the uncomfortable silence that follows when the majority of the crowd is forced to watch a teenage girl getting exploded.

You are the first to notice what's happening- but not the last.

"Huh? I mean, cool recovery, but she's definitely outmatched." Yew points out, paying attention to the fight more out of courtesy to his mother, rather than a personal interest in combat.

"She probably knows that. Just watch." Taylor instructs him with a slight smile on her face that speaks of wistful memories.

"Thing about super strength is that you learn not to jump too high." You explain to the kid.

"Why? You can see everything and it's a great way to avoid stuff." Yew responds curiously.

"Yeah, but unless you can fly, once you're in the air you can't dodge anymore. You become gravity's bitch unless you have way to quickly return to the ground." You explain, just as Dinah and Blake's kicks connect with each other.

Predictably, the weaker of the two, Dinah, gets sent flying back downward - but Blake? Blake bounces off of the tiny Thinker and ascends even further, as though she had just hit a trampoline.

And Dinah… well, Dinah just slams into the ground and ricochets back into the air even faster than before.

You recognize the maneuver well, because you're quite fond of it yourself.

You make a mental note to give the girl some tips on the art of air-juggling your opponents.

Point of View - Dinah Alcott

She managed to rebound back into the air to make two more attacks before the other girl caught on - probably because she realized that she was getting progressively higher in the air, and very soon wouldn't be able to land without hurting herself.

So she expected it when her third such attack sent her sprawling through a fake version of Blake that promptly exploded into frigid ice.

'Left? Right? Be-' Dinah started rattling off as she continued her parabolic arc through the air, desperately seeking out the source of the counter attack before it could land, and ignoring the frigid cold and jagged shards of ice lashing at her.

Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough. Or rather, she didn't ask the right question - a fact that she only noticed when she felt the rope connecting the two halves of Blake's weapon wrap around her ankle and tighten.

"Ah, f-" she started to say as she spotted Blake racing towards the ground with a tight grip on the other end of the weapon that she promptly swung downward.

Dinah could feel her stomach sink, as though she had just started the downward portion of a rollercoaster.

And then she hit the ground so hard she forgot to try to bounce to reduce the damage. She managed to twist around to avoid hitting the ground neck first…

But that was all she avoided.

"I can see why you would fight this way, but I suggest avoiding more attacks." Blake told her placidly, lifting the gunbarrel of her weapon and pointing it at Dinah.

Dinah supposed she should just take solace in the knowledge that the older girl was clearly breathing hard from the exertion.

"I'll… keep that in mind." She hissed out. She knew if she looked down she wouldn't be injured - because Aura was cool that way - but she still felt pretty bad, and stamina wasn't her strong suit.

'Chances I can win? 4.6%? Sure, why not.' She quickly ascertained with her power, as she pushed herself to her feet.

"Now I'm warmed up-" She started but was cut off as Aspirant appeared between them again.

"Your Aura is dangerously low. I'm afraid I have to give the win to our visitor. My apologies, Number Girl. It was a valiant showing." He said softly.

Dinah stiffened, then looked to the side of the courtyard her team was situated in. Aisha was standing with her arms crossed and back stiff, but Mem and Mun immediately started clapping for her, and Aisha slowly started to do the same.

Then, like a dam breaking, cheers and roaring approval started to explode all around her, echoing off the wall or the Heap until they were almost deafening.

And contrary to her expectations… most of them were cheering for her.

So… she had lost. But oddly, she didn't feel bad about it.

She had the home field advantage after all.

She slowly limped off the 'stage', and stuck a hand out for Mun to slap on her way up.

"Do your best!" Dinah cheered hesitantly for her clone.

"Do? Come on, nerd, I am the best!" The cheeky girl smiled as she drew up even against the shortest person on the enemy team.

Point of View - Munin Hebert

'Okay, just don't be mean. I can totally do that. Just… don't be mean on live TV. Totally.' She cautioned herself as she drew herself up in front of her opponent.

She wondered if her- if Dinah's mom and dad were in the crowd. Would they watch her fight? Would they care if she got hurt?

Almost as soon as she thought the question, she had to restrain the urge to scowl, since she already knew the answer.

If they cared about her at all, they would have taken her in.

She tried not to think about it, but most of her memories were of being Dinah. Of having loving parents. She was a stranger to them, but they weren't strangers to her.

And hurt. It hurt so bad.

"Do your best, small menace!" A familiar voice rang out from overhead, and she turned abruptly to find Emmy hanging out of a second floor window and waving his arms wildly at her while Taylor tried desperately to drag him back inside.

And she couldn't help but snicker. Then chuckle. And then finally, turn back to her opponent, roaring with laughter.

"Um. Hi? I'm Ruby! Blake told me you guys have a weird thing about names here, but I couldn't think of a cool one and I'm really nervous because wow this is a lot of people, and-" the other girl - who didn't look much older than she was, honestly - babbled at her.

"Yeah, you get used to it." Munin lied, smiling crookedly at Ruby, and letting her feathers appear to race along her arms and back.

The other girl immediately took a faltering step back.

Munin turned once more to eye Emmy, who was in the process of getting yelled at by Taylor, and when she had caught his eye, mouthed 'watch me' towards him.

Heberts, after all, did not lose.

A/N: Did you know Scatterscout has a projection quest and that its already over 100k words? Did you know their first emulation was Gintama? Well now you do.

You should really go read it.

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A Pale Imitation (Another Worm Projection Quest) (From One Sakata Gintoki To Lysithea von Ordelia)

You are a Shard, with one of the most versatile powers of your kind: Emulating individuals from across the entirety of the multiverse. Since it's your first time being deployed in the Cycle, its your job as a Projection to elevate your Host to the Best Host! Based on Bowler Hat Guy's Projection...

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Last edited: Aug 21, 2022

500

Bowler Hat Guy

Aug 18, 2022

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Threadmarks Hostile Takeover 18.3

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Aug 31, 2022

#48,239

Current Energy: 8

Current Emulation Status: Here

Monday, March 21st, 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

"So?" You ask your Master curiously.

"She needs better stamina. If she wants to take hits like that, she needs to be able to take hits without flinching." Taylor says absent-mindedly. The pure spectacle of what is going on in the courtyard has overwritten the public's usual fear of standing too close to your Master, and as a result, you, Yew, and Taylor are being pressed up against the window you are staring out of like sardines in a can.

You suspect it would be worse if anyone actually had the ability to make Yew move, but as is, his presence behind you has largely shielded you from the oncoming tide of people.

All around you, you can hear casual, excited, conversation.

"That was Number Girl, right? She once told me I had a 12% chance of being happy with my ex. Who's the other team?"

"Out of towners I think. Visiting Nexus for something."

"So is this like, a new league sport thing or..?"

"My fantasy cape league is becoming real!"

"I feel bad for our guys - the other team has a bunch of tinker tech but they've got nothing."

"Nah, I'm not worried. Brockton has the best capes, we don't lose here, no matter what!"

"Escalation Nation!"

"The hell does that mean?"

"It's like- like the Brockton battlecry, right? Our guys don't get beat, they get even."

"Oh, like, how the Raptors have that 'We The North' thing?"

"The who?"

"The-"

It's… an interesting series of conversations, to say the least.

"So… are you going to help her with that, or...?" You ask curiously. You try not to point out that your Master has largely ignored Team DAMM, outside of some light training for Aisha and crafting the sword for her. Parian made their costumes for them, largely at your request, Aspirant has given them more training than Taylor by far, and Trainwreck is… well, he's around, at least.

"Do… you think they want me to?" Taylor asks with a rare hint of insecurity in her voice.

You blink and turn to her in surprise.

"Yes? Come on, you're like, the hero. Di- Number Girl's costume is literally just her cosplaying you." You point out.

"Yeah, but…" Taylor trails off, tilting her head to frown at Aisha where she stands on the sidelines, anxiously tapping one finger against her jacketed arm. "…I don't know if that's pressure they deserve." She admits.

Yew, of all people, is the one who responds.

"They're gonna have that anyway. Just listen to the crowd. If everyone's going to treat them like an extension of you anyway, isn't it only fair that you support them?" He asks. Taylor's lips purse at that.

"That's not fair though. I helped a bit, yeah, but I'm not their manager or anything. They just hang out here." She says in a low, hard to hear tone that gets easily drowned out by the cheer of the crowd as Aspirant steps up with his coin to start the next fight.

"Life's not fair. I thought the whole reason we did all this was to make it fairer." You respond, instantly wincing at the sensation of guilt and shame that wafts off your Master as you make your point.

"Yeah… yeah, I guess I did." Taylor says wistfully. Then she sighs.

"Fiiiine. Let's do it right, then." She grumbles, waving a hand that causes a giant fluorescent blue bridge to spawn in the air by the window.

The crowd's murmuring instantly stops, and the window the bridge is in front of resizes into a doorway right in front of you that Taylor lazily steps through, gesturing for you and Yew to follow.

You do so, and the minute you catch up with her, the bridge vanishes behind you, reforming further ahead in a never ending ascent until you are standing above the battlefield.

"Can you apologize to the girls for me? I'll just be interrupting for one second." She asks you quietly.

You grin.

Your Master is always at her best in unfamiliar territory, after all.

Point of View: Munin Hebert

"Ah, fuck." She complained, relaxing slightly as her mo- Taylor, sauntered up into the sky with her sort of brother and sort of uncle.

Honestly, she'd pay good money to see someone try to make sense of her hodgepodge of a family tree. It was starting to feel so backwards and convoluted that she felt she could give the Greek gods a run for their money.

…not that she would ever admit to reading all those boring books in the study. It wasn't her fault that her millionaire mom refused to upgrade from dial-up internet. She got better connection speeds on her cellphone by stealing the neighbor's internet.

"You shouldn't swear! What if someone hears you?" The girl in the poofy dress thing with the stupid huge scythe chastised her.

"So? I don't respect other people." She said haughtily, even though inwardly she cringed at the objectively untrue factoid. She respected lots of people. She respected most people even. She didn't even know why her default approach to social interaction was so abrasive. It wasn't like Dinah wasn't right there showing her what she was supposed to be like.

Maybe that was why she did it. It was her way of saying 'that isn't me, I'm over here!'.

Was that petty? Maybe. But sometimes it was all she had.

"That's… not very nice." Ruby - hard to forget the name when her team name was also Ruby - said sadly.

She resisted the urge to snap at the girl for calling her out and instead bit her tongue, tilting her head up to watch Taylor do… whatever she was doing now.

"Good morning everyone!" Taylor called out from overhead, the sound carrying so well that it was less yelling and more like she was right next to you when she spoke.

There was some cheering, but it was muted - Brockton wasn't accustomed to benevolent capes. Not really. More or less malicious ones, yes, but never truly benevolent.

The culture shock was noticeable when you knew where to look. Families hugging their children close, as though expecting a shootout at the mall just because Nexus was talking. Men covered in tattoos who seemed uncomfortably at ease with a cape giving a grandiose speech.

A disquiet she wasn't sure many of her friends noticed when capes came up as a topic.

It was easy to get distracted by the inane fantasy bullshit that trailed behind Taylor, but even with the improvements in the city, most people equated capes with one thing and one thing only;

Danger.

"I know we're all here to have fun, so I won't take too much of your time. I'm sure you can see my girls down there fighting. I want to admit to you all that I did not train them. Everything you see happening is a result of their own wits and skills.

"When I started my team, I told the world I wanted to help other Parahumans find a place in the world. And while I've done my best for my friends, family, and team, I have failed so many others. I have failed my… daughters." She explained, in a lazy sounding drawl that somehow still conveyed shame without a loss of any dignity at all.

Mun was pretty sure Taylor had a power that made her seem better at dealing with people than she actually was. In her experience, the woman had two modes of being - manic drive towards a goal, and awkward word vomit.

The awkward word vomit was just really eloquent, for some reason.

"So! I'm saying it here and now- I welcome everyone. If you have a power you can't control! If you have goals or dreams you can't reach. If you need training. If you need guidance. If you just need a place to sleep at night. No strings. No requirements. Come. We'll be waiting." Taylor finished, sweeping a hand outward. The motion was accompanied by a seething mass of energy that flowed outward from her, conjuring semi tangible chairs, stairs, viewports and bleachers. Every window facing the courtyard became a doorway.

Between one moment and the next, her mother had conjured an entire stadium setup. Complete with a see-through VIP sky box that clearly contained enough space for her whole family.

Family that began to appear one after the other, well before the first civilian mustered the courage to stand upon the pathways of light that lead into the stadium seating.

First came Trainwreck. The oversized Tinker emerged from his garage as though called directly, took one look at the situation, shrugged, and then made a standing leap up onto the sky box. She remembered the most important thing she'd ever learned from him.

"Sometimes you gotta fight until you think you're gonna die, then keep fighting."

Then came Parian, who walked to the edge of the field and paused as though waiting for something, stepping through the Gap that appeared in front of her shortly thereafter without hesitation.

"How we present ourselves doesn't have to be who we truly are. It can be what we wish to become as well."

Huntsman was next, tracing a path along the walls that saw him scaling walls and skidding to a halt on the box with his girlfriend clutched under one arm, giggling like a lunatic and wearing a PRT issue mask that was pretty much just the polite fiction of anonymity.

"You think I know what I'm doing? I barely even count as having powers! How would I ever get anything done if I was always waiting to catch up?"

Danny, Who taught her that being a Hebert meant never stopping when you knew you were right. Jess, who taught her how to do her hair so it wouldn't slap her in the face during a fight. Katherine, who taught her how to roll with a punch so it hurt less, and also, where mom hid the snacks. Simone. Yew. Gram.

Her whole family was up there. Watching her.

"Um, are you okay?" Ruby asked and Mun belatedly realized she was tearing up a little bit.

"Amazing." She replied honestly, darting a glance at Aspirant, who waited patiently for the crowds to start filtering into the viewing area before beginning again. His mask fell away from one eye and he winked at her before it replaced itself.

He'd taught her the most useful skill of all.

How to whoop ass.

"If… you're sure…" Ruby replied awkwardly.

"Sorry. Uh… I'm Munin. It's a bird joke." She tried lamely - realizing she might have been just a little bit rude to someone her sister - Mem - actually liked.

"I don't get it." Ruby responded, tilting her head to one side.

"It's cus- like, there was this God and he had two birds-" She started, only for Aspirant to clear his throat.

"You can talk when this is over. You should be thankful no one can hear you." He pointed out - literally pointing to the projection in the sky where she had technically just said her real name.

She blushed.

"Shut up! I knew that!" She squawked.

"I'm sure." He responded dryly, before holding the coin out into open air. "When the coin hits the ground, you may begin."

Then he flicked it into the air and leapt backwards.

People often failed to grasp what Mun's powers actually were.

She liked to call them bird powers, and to a certain extent, they were.

But they were also magic. And magic was… flexible, in how you interpreted it. It had dawned on her long ago that she was probably only able to do half the things she did because she didn't know she couldn't.

Which was why the second the coin hit the ground, she allowed feathered quills to sprout all along her arms and back. Her hair became a tangled mass of feathers, and she quickly whipped her arm towards the girl opposite her with as much force as she could muster.

Ruby - apparently just as intent on a preemptive strike as she was - took that same opportunity to level her scythe at Mun, and fired.

The round that slammed into her shoulder broke it. It was instant, it was painful, and it still wasn't nearly enough to stop her.

Because Munin had something that Ruby didn't. She had no Aura. But she was tough. As it was explained to her, her body pretty much was her soul. If she willed it, she could move around with every bone in her body shattered. She could survive physical trauma no human would ever walk away from.

She could suffer injuries far in excess of what a normal body could.

She rated that sniper round as a solid seven out of ten - Trainwreck could punch harder than that.

At the same time as she was thinking this, her clever plan came to fruition. She wasn't actually very accurate throwing her feathers. In a vacuum, they would most likely fly randomly around before hitting the ground.

But her body was her soul. The feathers were part of her body, and so - if she wanted them to hit somewhere specific, they would.

Because she willed it.

She relished the look of surprised horror on Ruby's face as she pounced towards her, raking one arm covered in razor-sharp feathers across the girl's mid-section. She delighted in the panic, even as her feathers slid up the barrel of the gun portion of the weapon - completely ruining it.

"Sorry 'bout yer toy!" She called out with a laugh, as she ducked under a frantic swing from the long weapon and came up in a boxing stance, using the extended length of her feathers to catch the sharp edge of the blade so she could lock it in place.

"Wait wait wait-!" Ruby yelled anxiously as Mun twisted, and the weapon came free of her grip, flying across the stadium to bury itself in the ground behind the bird girl.

"Forfeit?" Mun asked cheekily, plucking a feather from one arm and holding it ready to throw.

Now that she had the range advantage, why would she get into melee, after all?

…she also had to admit that the stress of pretending she still had a working shoulder was kind of pushing her to end this fast.

Ruby looked from her, to her scythe, then smiled.

"Don't you dare-!" Mun cursed, hurling her feather and drawing two new ones only to hit nothing as Ruby exploded into a cloud of rose petals that flew past her at blinding speeds.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit!" She cursed, whirling around to stop the girl from getting her weapon back.

Two streaks of black and red raced across the courtyard. Mun was dimly aware of the crowd roaring around her - but she had no idea what any of them were saying. She was too focused. Too in the zone.

Unfortunately, Ruby made it before she could, and not by a small margin either. She returned to human form intime to grab the handle of her blade and use its position in the earth to slow her forward momentum.

Then she met Mun's charge with a down swing of her scythe that went straight through Mun's other shoulder - getting stuck a few inches in.

Ruby's eyes widened with fear at the seemingly lethal strike.

"But- your Aura!" She cried out, grip loosening on the weapon.

Munin grit her teeth and forced the arm - the one that no longer had any biological reason to do what she told it to - up to grab the hand of the blade.

"Don't have one~" she crooned, before drop-kicking the other girl so hard she bounced off the protective dome surrounding the arena.

With careful motions, she reached into her suit, withdrawing a healing talisman, and then placed one end of it between her teeth. Then with a single jarring motion, yanked the scythe out of her shoulder and ripped the paper in half.

The sensation of having working arms again was almost enough to make her weep, but instead she turned the scythe on the confused girl across from her.

"Okay, now do you forfeit? We do things a bit differently here." She said, shooting for that imperious sounding tone Taylor tended to use on people she was beating up.

Like the ass kicking was a reward.

Ruby, to her credit, eyed first her scythe, then her now uninjured opponent, and then sighed.

"Fiiiine." She concedes standing up and dusting herself off.

Munin glances toward Aspirant.

"The winner is Bird Brain of Team DAMM!" He called to the crowd.

She snickered, and proffered the weapon back to its owner. Then she realized she had never told Aspirant to call her Birdpocalypse and had to restrain a scowl.

"Maybe I should ask mo- Taylor about a scythe. Scythes are cool, right?" She mused aloud.

Ruby nodded emphatically at the assertion.

And the crowd cheered.

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Bowler Hat Guy

Aug 31, 2022

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Threadmarks Hostile Takeover 18.4

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Sep 4, 2022

#48,395

Current Energy: 8

Current Emulation Status: Here

Monday, March 21st, 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

"Feeling show-offy today, are we, mother dearest?" Simone drawls from behind you, leaning forward to drape both of her arms down Taylor's front without getting out of the slightly elevated seat behind her.

"This does kind of feel like I'm at a jousting tournament sitting with the Queen." Oliver adds.

"Why do half the people here keep calling you mom?" Madison asks, drawing everyone else up short.

"There's… a lot of reasons…" Taylor says weakly, earning a chuckle from her father.

"Honestly, you get used to not asking after a while. I'm usually happier not knowing." Danny jokes.

"I mean, you cared a ton when I was a teenage boy." You point out.

"That's different!" He snaps at you instantly, pointing a finger at you and then shrugging.

"Beer?" He offers, holding a cooler up.

"I dunno if I should drink." Yew refuses. You shake your head in the negative as well, and watch with some amusement as Simone, Parian, Trainwreck, Jess, and Katherine all withdraw a bottle. Oliver stretches his hand out for one as well, but Taylor quickly slaps it away.

"Come on! I'm old enough to fight Endbringers, but not old enough to drink?" He sulks.

"Yes." Taylor responds bluntly before glancing down at the field below and all the people circulating throughout the grounds.

"You know, I don't think I ever expected… this." She says wistfully.

"What, you didn't expect to win the power lottery, fight a God, win, and profit? I wake up feeling like that every day." Trainwreck says with a snort.

"You wake up feeling like you won the power lottery, huh?" Taylor says jokingly.

"'Course! Look where we fucking are! You did your magic thing to it, but I built this place!" Trainwreck chortles.

The rest of the group laughs along with him, but Taylor gets an uncomfortable look on her face briefly before smiling again.

"I just mean… you know, I got powers and I thought things would be… simpler." She admits after a moment, turning to watch the seething crowds again.

"Caping is never simple. That's why I don't do it." Jess says not unkindly, standing up from her seat next to Danny and walking around to plop herself down next to Taylor for a quick hug.

"Well, that's the thing. I don't mind the fighting and stuff. I love it, honestly. It's all the… this that I don't know how to deal with. I mean, I do, but my Thinker power mostly does large scale stuff. Yeah, I could be the first Parahuman President in five years–" she says

"You could what the fuck now?" Trainwreck blurts out.

"--but I don't really like being in charge of people. It's…" she trails off.

"Boring?" Katherine supplies knowingly. Jess shoots her a withering glare, to which she just shrugs.

"Call it what it is, housewife - it's boring. Girls like us, we live for the rush of falling out of the sky at terminal velocity, nothing between you and death but your skills and confidence." She says, then side eyes Danny. "It can be hard to find a guy that can keep up, though." She adds.

"Gross." Taylor mumbles.

"Inappropriate." Jess corrects her.

"Tell me more." Simone croons, lazily allowing herself to fall sideways so she is laying across Parian's lap and kicking her legs in the air behind her. You watch with significant amusement as the clothcontrolling cape casually shifts her hands as far away from the rear that is currently bobbing back and forth under her chin as she can, and pointedly tilts her head so as not to be staring.

Which, in case it wasn't obvious, she clearly wanted to do.

"I'm not comfortable having this conversation surrounded by my grandchildren." Danny says bluntly, earning a surprised look from Yew and Simone, who share a look and then quickly swarm over the seats - and all the people in them - to hug the man.

"Hey!" "Oi!" "Do you mind!"

"We love you too, granddad!" Yew cheers.

"I promise to let you know if your marriage is ever in danger!" Simone adds.

"I'm not married." Danny responds with some confusion, patting them both on the back.

"I know you believe that, but-"

"Oh gosh, wow, look, they're starting!" Jess says woodenly and loudly.

"Hahah, I wonder who'll win!? Go Mem!" Katherine blurts out just as loudly.

Taylor shivers and leans over to whisper to you.

"I'm kind of glad no one is that into me." She says.

You snicker at her, and decide to just accept the series of kidney jabs and pinches your Master levies on you when you refuse to explain.

Point of View: Long Memory

Spoiler

As always, mother never failed to impress when she chose to apply her magical abilities towards mundane utility.

'Could I do this? I'd like to. Could I automate it? Is it a freestanding magical conjuration or is mother consciously maintaining it?' She pondered to herself from within the magically formed dugout at the edge of the courtyard.

"Me- Merlin. Merlin stay with me here." Aisha called to her, but it was a distant thing, not as immediately important as her current considerations.

Not.

She'd learned long ago that ignoring Aisha Laborn never went well. The girl was a demon when she didn't get her way, and her personality - while very similar to Taylor's - was not nearly as lackadaisical or forgiving.

No, Long Memory had fully internalized that Aisha was an almost maniacally driven person. She seemed very carefree and lazy, but when she wanted something, she took it.

Often, but not always, by force.

The fact that she and mother didn't get along was, as a result, continually baffling to Mem.

"Yes?" She asked in her trademark neutral tone.

Or so she was told. She'd never considered herself that deadpan. Other people just didn't really listen to her.

"Okay, look," Aisha said, grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her around to look at the crowd who was watching them with interest despite definitely not being able to hear them.

Sports were weird. She didn't understand why so many people would-

"Girl, focus. Please." Aisha interrupted her train of thought, shaking her slightly.

"Yes. The crowd." Mem acquiesced.

"They want you to lose." Aisha informed her coldly.

"I do not believe--" She tried to interrupt.

"No, they definitely don't think you can win. Cus we're kids. Cus we're new. Cus they don't like your mom." Aisha added.

"Again, with some certainty I can say--" She started again.

She understood that this was important to Aisha. She saw the Mouse Protector episode about the Ward who really wanted to win their Little League tournament.

She got it.

But she really didn't think the way Aisha was going about things was entirely… healthy. Unfortunately, she also felt like now probably wasn't the time to bring that up. So she just nodded along with her team leader and tried to make a determined expression.

She failed, but she tried.

"They don't want us to win. But we will, okay?" She asked - Mem assumed - rhetorically.

"Yes," Mem said quickly. Aisha responded by lifting her hands and slapping them roughly back down on Mem's shoulders.

"Who's the greatest Wizard on Earth?!" She roared.

"Mother." Mem answered instantly.

"No it's- it's like a chant… thing. Try again. Besides Nexus." Aisha said with a sigh before repeating her previous actions.

"Who's the greatest Wizard on Eartth!?" She demanded again.

"I am." Mem returned obediently.

"Who's the most dangerous member of our team?!" Aisha insisted.

"Me." Mem admitted freely. She didn't have the magical output to do it, but if she could tap into Taylor's pool of power, she could easily outpace a nuclear weapon for sheer destructive ability.

"And who's gonna win!?" Aisha demanded.

"The better–" Mem started.

"No! You! You're going to win!" Aisha ordered.

"…yes." Mem allowed slowly.

"Good! Now get out there and kick some ass!" Her friend cheered.

Mem resisted the urge to sigh, then turned and began to walk onto the field, to great applause from the crowd. She nodded to Weiss - who was wearing a miner outfit, for some reason - then quickly stepped over to Aspirant.

"Please announce me as Merlin." She requested.

"Noted. And you?" He asked, turning to Weiss.

"You may announce me as the esteemed heiress of the Schnee Dust Company." Weiss allowed with a gracious nod. "…of Remnant." She added. Their pearlescent judge nodded and stepped towards the center of the field.

"Now then.." he mutters to himself. "On my right, Merlin of Team DAMM!" He calls out loudly.

Mem was pretty sure Taylor or maybe the Heap itself was doing something to enhance his voice. She ignored the murmurs of confusion when she wasn't announced as 'Wizard Girl'.

What a stupid name. Might as well call her 'White-Haired Child Girl'.

"On my left, Weiss Schnee, Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company of Remnant!" Aspirant continued.

The white haired heiress puffed her chest up at the announcement, and the crowd cheered - but it was mostly just confusion. Very few, if any of the people present were aware of RWBY's extradimensional origins.

"When this coin hits the ground - you may begin!" He yells finally, flicking the quarter in his hand skyward.

"I would appreciate it if you would go easy on me." She put forth politely as the coin spun through the air.

"In front of this many people, I'm afraid I can't." Was the equally polite response she got back. Weiss - elegant as ever - lifted her rapier in a duelist's stance and waited.

Mem shrugged.

She was mostly only interested in the fight because she wanted to compare her runes to the heiresses' glyphs.

If there was any crossover, then-

A white glyph drew itself in the air in front of her, and three jagged shards of ice flung themselves at her.

Mem considered dodging, then she considered what spell to use, then, when it dawned at her that she was going to get hit if she didn't respond with something - she flung a simple fire spell forward to negate the attack, scrawling a single rune in the air and creating a gout of flame that consumed the attack. Steam and curls of smoke filled the air between herself and her foe, and she quickly started on her next conjuration.

'I recognized that. If it isn't rune-adjacent then it's at least comparable. Are the circular bounds restraints on the effect or just stylistic flair?' She wondered, even as she scrawled another singular rune in the air that ripped the ground up underneath her in a circular wall.

"Tch." She heard from behind her, and whirled around, swinging her cane at the nearest portion of wall, which immediately fractured into jagged spikes of earth.

"Can you please use the ice one again?" She asked politely, stepping around her barrier to observe another glyph as it sprung to life around her adhoc projectiles, slowing them to a crawl and allowing Weiss to step around them before dismissing the glyph and allowing the spikes to strike the ground behind her.

"You are making it very difficult to defeat you nicely." Weiss pointed out with some annoyance, keeping her guard up and beginning to circle to Mem's left.

"I did not say I wished to lose. Merely that I wished you not to try too hard." She pointed out politely.

She tried not to be offended by Weiss snorting at her entirely true assertion.

Point of View: Multiversal Emulator

"Yeah, she's your kid alright." Trainwreck drawled.

"I feel like I should be offended but… what makes you say that?" Taylor asks, turning and narrowing her eyes at the large tinker who shrugs and points down at the battlefield.

"Look at her. Little monster is having the time of her life." He explains.

You and your Master both turn back to the fighting and notice it at approximately the same time.

Mem's usual stoic expression has faded with every exchange, transforming into a wide eyed, wide mouthed smile that shows far to many teeth. You aren't even sure the girl herself notices it - but with each new spell cast, she looks just a bit less like your Mem, and just a bit more like… well.

You turn a raised eyebrow on your Master.

"I didn't teach her that!" She complains.

When no one immediately responds, it is all your Master can do to repeat herself in a forlorn tone.

"I didn't!"

Point of View: Long Memory

"What does this symbol mean? Its purpose--" she asked, pausing midway through tracing a symbol in the air and abruptly rolling to the side to avoid a swift lunge from her opponent.

She frowned. She didn't like fighting, but she was enjoying the back and forth of spells they had been partaking in.

"I would prefer if--" she began, swinging her cane upward to deflect another attack and drawing a rune with her free hand.

"--if we could return to our previous mode of combat." She finished, as her spell created an explosive blast of wind that hurled Weiss away from her.

-only for her opponent to conjure a glyph beneath her feet that allowed her to bounce off of it and return immediately to melee range.

"I realize–" Weiss grunted, stabbing forward with her weapon to land the first direct attack of the bout on Mem's hand, forcing her to drop her weapon.

Of course, given that said weapon was, in many ways, Mem, she had no trouble at all forcing it to reappear in her free hand.

"--that you might be enjoying yourself, but take. This. Seriously!" Weiss shouted, punctuating each word with a blindingly fast stab of her rapier that she followed up with a glyph that breathed fire on Mem when she proved just barely able to parry the melee attacks.

She pursed her lips and winced as the flames washed over her, and triggered one of the contingencies in her costume - which immediately created a pulsating shield of raw magical power around her, consuming the stone in her inner jacket pocket instantly.

Her power drained significantly, down to maybe forty percent if she had to guess, and she used the momentary respite - and the vision obscuring flames - to piece together a slightly longer spell.

Truthfully? She didn't even really consider anything with less than three components a spell, any more than a wheel made for an entire car.

'Mannaz, Isa, Algiz, Ansuz Reversed…'

[ᛗᛁᛉᚨ]

She felt her mind speed up as it was cleared of annoyance, pain, and interest. She'd used this spell precisely once. Her familiar had summarily told her never to use it again.

She had no idea why, but she supposed she could ask after she finished this tiresome battle.

"Okay." She acquiesced to her opponent's request as soon as the fire, shield, and the drain on her reserves were past.

Then she charged.

Point of View: Multiversal Emulator

"Hey, hey, what's going on there?" You ask suddenly, leaning forward to observe your sort of niece.

"I'm not positive but if I had to hazard a guess…" Taylor says worriedly, tilting her head so that the lenses of her glasses reflect light into your face.

"...I'd say she made herself bored." She finishes.

"Like… she got bored of the fight or--" You ask incredulously.

"No. I mean - she made herself bored." Your Master insists.

Point of View: Long Memory

She slammed her staff down on her opponent's weapon with all the force she could muster. She wasn't as strong as Yew, or Aisha, but she wasn't as weak as a girl her size should be, either. Still, Weiss had Aura, and was thus able to parry the strike well enough, retaliating with a series of her own attacks that Mem did her best to dodge, parry, or otherwise avoid while her other hand traced a series of runes in the air.

'Halagaz' [ᚺ]

She juked backwards, narrowly avoiding a stab to her eye that would have taken days to recover from.

'Wunjo, Reversed' [ƿ]

She bolted forward, lowering her cane and bashing it into the side of Weiss' leg, pushing her off balance enough that Mem was able to kick her bodily away from her. Not far enough that she didn't quickly recover… but more than quick enough for the last rune.

'Laguz' [ᛚ]

[ᚺƿᛚ]

She flung her casting hand forward at the same time as Weiss chose to retaliate by dashing back into melee - much to the other girl's detriment.

It was fairly obvious that her opponent had chosen to engage her in melee under the belief that Mem was not as skilled at direct combat as she was at magic. This was, for the most part, true.

However, Weiss probably hadn't accounted for how good at magic Mem was.

As evidenced by the explosive wave of caramel brown fluid that flowed over and around Mem - not so much as moistening a hair on her head - to crash into the rapier wielding fighter. The force of the wave was such that it pressed Weiss against the barrier at the far side of the area for a fully two seconds as Mem delicately stepped away from the thoroughly saturated half of the arena she had just covered in-

"Alcohol?" Weiss calls out in disgust, shaking an arm out and wrinkling her nose at the no doubt incredibly unpleasant sensation of being sopping wet with liquor suffusing every inch of your clothing.

"Yes." She responded in a bored tone, lifting a finger and willing a small flame to its tip without the use of a rune.

Then she flicked the tiny spark at the opposite side of the arena, and waited.

The conflagration was large, violent, and extremely fast in its spread, racing across the ground and towards a panicked Weiss like a hunting animal.

Weiss tried to escape it - of course she did - but to do so, she had to leap.

And an airborne target was a target that was drastically limited in its mobility.

It was the simplest thing in the world for Mem to use the last of her dwindling magical reserves to fling gusts of wind across the arena, fanning the flames and pushing her airborne target back into the conflagration. Aura flickered and sputtered as parts of Weiss' outfit caught fire, and Mem was about to finish it with a direct attack when Aspirant leapt over the flames to catch her in the air, rebounding off the barrier and landing outside the fire.

"I believe that makes the match?" He asks, gently putting Weiss on the ground while patting out what few flames had started to scorch her.

"...Yes." Weiss conceded weakly, turning to eye the flames still scorching the arena with concern.

Mem shrugged, and cast a simple fire extinguishing spell on them.

"The winner is Merlin, of Team DAMM!" Aspirant yelled over the amazed yelling of the crowd.

Then, and only then, did Mem allow her clear mind spell to falter.

She blinked twice, considered all the things she could have learned from that fight.

And then… she pouted.

That was why she shouldn't use that spell.

A/N: Beta's are asleep, time to post without editing and… I dunno. Crab rave? That's a joke still right? God I'm getting old.

Last edited: Sep 4, 2022

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Bowler Hat Guy

Sep 4, 2022

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Threadmarks Hostile Takeover 18.5

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Sep 14, 2022

#48,490

Current Energy: 8

Current Emulation Status: Here

Monday, March 21st, 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

Point of View: Brian Laborn

Brian was starting to realize why old people hated change.

Too much of his life had changed too quickly - and only now, as he wandered around what he could only assume was the sub-sub-sub basement of the magical fucking castle in the middle of the goddamn city, that he realized; it sucked.

Objectively, things were looking up for him in every possible way. Theo was a good boss who preferred things to be done as professionally as possible. He didn't treat the Undersiders as minions, or goons, or expendable.

He treated them like a Spec Ops team - which was exactly the way Brian liked it.

Get in, do the job, get out, with no one involved ever aware of it. That was the way things were supposed to work. And for a while - it had. Even better, that chubby kid was paying him better than their previous boss ever had. Coil might have paid them for running jobs, and mostly left it up to them how they wanted to do those jobs, but ultimately his payment was by commission. Do a job. Get paid. Simple as that.

The problem was, if Brian wanted to look good for the courts who decided whether or not he got custody of Aisha or not, he needed consistent income.

So naturally, he was always ready for another job.

It was Greg of all people that had pointed out to him that ultimately, that made him extremely vulnerable to manipulation. Oh, Lisa had known. Lisa always knew. But she had never pointed it out before, and had only sheepishly confirmed Greg was right when the guy had nudged her with an elbow.

Brian paused midstep as the sensation of betrayal he'd felt at the time returned briefly to him, and he had to shake his head to get the thought out of his mind. Then he kept patrolling.

Theo wasn't like that. Theo didn't pay them by individual job, and he didn't try to manipulate them by dangling money in front of them. He was upfront, but firm. He paid them the same - very high - amount bi-weekly. He had every last one of them officially on payroll at Medhall under 'Misc Contractors'.

And as much as Brian hated being dependent on someone else, he was still fine with that. It was a job - he could quit at any time. He ran his missions the way he wanted to run them. He had absolutely battlefield authority. He could even run his own jobs if he wanted - so long as he understood that anything he did was going to reflect on Theo, which of course, translated loosely to 'don't piss off Nexus'.

And it wasn't like Brian was planning on doing that any time soon - or ever - anyway.

Still. All of that was fine. It was great even. His rep had never been stronger, his needs never better met. The Undersiders were basically the only villains left in the city at all at the end of the Empire's takeover attempt. Their continued existence directly adjacent to Taylor-Fucking-Hebert had earned them a major reputation - one that Brian was even kind of proud of, despite the full knowledge that it was a fluke.

No, what was starting to chafe was the fact that he was starting to realize that he wasn't a villain anymore.

He wasn't even an independent anymore.

There was a word for Capes like the Undersiders, and though he was loath to admit it, he couldn't help but grimace at the simple fact that it fit his team to a 'T'.

"We're Corporate Heroes." He said out loud, his voice echoing around in his motorcycle helmet and becoming loud and distorted in the silence of the tunnels he was in.

He tried to examine how he felt about that. As Lisa had explained that to him, Nexus' continued toleration of their existence despite literally knowing where they all slept was pretty much an unofficial pardon as far as everyone else was concerned. If Grue stopped an assault tomorrow, she assured him that not only would the cops not try to arrest him - they would take his statement and leave without another word.

And why? Not because of anything he'd done. Not because of anything he planned to do.

But because he had simply happened to be too much of an annoyance for someone else to stomp out.

Also Greg. Goddamn did he simultaneously love and hate fucking Greg.

How could one man be so stupid, and yet, so competent at the same time? Describing Greg as an idiot savant would be unfair because truthfully, he wasn't stupid. Yet at the same time, the idiot continuously did and survived things he absolutely shouldn't have.

The point of all that, of course, being that he wasn't an idiot. He could read the writing on the wall. They were doing more public jobs. They were working towards a reputation as 'safe' for people to be around.

If that bastard Theo didn't have new designs for all of their costumes covered in Medhall advertisements all set and ready to go, Brian would eat his own foot.

And so, Brian found himself in the uncomfortable position of someone who had everything they wanted… and really didn't want to take it.

Sighing dejectedly at this deeply unpleasant realization, and unable to self-examine himself well enough to even know why it bothered him so much, Brian did the only thing he could.

He pulled out his cellphone, scrolled down to Aisha's number - and distracted himself.

"Are you dying?" Aisha demanded the second he called her.

"Aisha?" He asked hesitantly, unsure of the echoey quality of her voice and the sound of… yelling in the background?

This distraction was almost immediately less pleasant even than his previous train of thought.

"Are. You. Dying?" She demanded again. Brian could only pull his phone away from his head to make sure he had called the right number before sticking his phone back in the opening created by his helmet's raised faceplate.

Nexus knew what he looked like already anyway.

"No? Aisha, where are you? Are you–" He started to ask with concern, instantly wary of the vehemence and slight hint of fear in her voice.

Aisha was his sister. He'd fought grown men when he was just a teen for her.

She might be able to hide it from someone else, but Brian? Brian knew the sound of fear in his sister's voice.

He knew it way too damn well.

"If you aren't dying then leave me alone 'cus I am busy!" She snapped at him before hanging up abruptly.

Brian pulled his phone out of his helmet again to stare at it, and anxiety struck him as he stood there thinking about it.

She… should be safe right? If she was in trouble she'd ask for help - not ask him if he was okay. So as long as she was okay… he couldn't exactly justify suddenly leaving to go look for her…

Still, as he continued onward in his patrol - which he was sure would produce exactly zero things that could threaten Nexus - it was in a much worse mood than before.

And given his previous train of thought… that was saying something.

Point of View: Aisha Laborn

Spoiler: Aisha Laborn

Aisha was starting to understand why old people hated change.

She slapped repeatedly at the 'end call' button on her phone with her thumb, then - when the piece of junk finally accepted the input - quickly slipped the device back into her jacket.

Sure, someone could track her by the thing if they were tech-savvy enough - but who the hell was going to pick a fight with her? She practically had to ambush bad guys in their homes to see any action with the way they ran away from her.

"Okay. Good hustle, good hustle. Number Girl gimme my odds - no wait, nevermind, screw your power! I make my own luck!" She said forcefully, turning towards her friends and flipping the faceplate of her helmet up to smile fearlessly at them.

Even though fear was the most identifiable to her of all the emotions she was currently feeling.

Dinah was doing her usual cutesy 'rock back and forth on her feet' thing - something Aisha had noticed a while ago meant that she knew something you didn't, and you definitely weren't going to like it when you found out. She didn't do it to be mocking - it was just a nervous tick.

She chose consciously to ignore it, which was a skill she was coming to realize was extremely valuable when you regularly worked with a precog.

She actually kind of wished Dinah was a little less free with the odds of some things.

Mem was her usual blank-faced self. Her smaller friend was just alternating between paying attention to what everyone else was saying and darting glances towards the enemy team as though hoping one of them would come over and talk to her.

'You set her on fire, girl. You aren't ever gonna be friends.' Aisha thought to herself.

And Munin was… napping. As a bird. On Mem's head.

Because of course she was.

"Any advice?" She asked, then before Dinah could speak, she amended the statement.

"Any helpful advice?" She clarified. Dinah frowned at her but spoke anyway.

"Your odds are better if you damage her hair?" She put forth, with a puzzled expression on her face.

At this, Aisha shot a smile at the younger girl.

When she got into highschool, it was gonna suck to have to wait a year till they were all in school together again.

"That's the stuff! More of that, less spoiling my favorite tv shows!" She urged the brunette before whirling around and rolling her shoulders to loosen them up for the beating she was going to give her.

Only to freeze when she heard a voice behind her.

"Aisha?"

Turning slowly - ever so slowly - Aisha pivoted on the spot and turned to face the back of the makeshift dugout that had been produced for them when Nexus had abruptly remodeled the space they were in.

And there, where there should have been a wall, was her brother, standing at the top of a flight of stone steps that - again - definitely wasn't there two minutes ago.

Well, her 'brother'. The person standing in front of her was technically Grue, and the fact that her costume was only superficially different from his should have been just about impossible to miss once they stood next to each other.

Like her, Grue was as dazed by the sudden change in situation as she was.

Turning to check on Aspirant in the field behind her, she found him nodding and gesturing at her before she could so much as ask him for a second.

She also found him abruptly much closer to her side of the arena than he had been before - a fact that annoyed Aisha endlessly.

She didn't need protection, damn it!

Turning back towards her brother, she found him abruptly standing right in front of her.

Which was… bad.

Brian… didn't exactly know what she did in her free time. She suspected he'd probably try and stop her.

"Come on! I don't know what the fuck is going on but we don't wanna be anywhere near it!" He barked at her.

Like he was right now.

It was obvious he had figured out who she was the second they had laid eyes on eachother. After all, if she was able to recognize Brian… he could definitely recognize her. They were siblings after all.

She almost didn't say anything. She genuinely would have probably just ignored him and walked out into the field - trusting her friends to stop him from interfering if they had to.

But he had also grabbed her by the arm and started trying to pull her away, and as Aisha panned her head downwards to stare at his gloved hand pulling on her sword arm - her resolve firmed.

As did her Aura.

Which was why Grue found himself pulling on an immovable object.

"I'm fine. I can protect myself now." She said quietly, slowly stretching an arm forward to peel his hand off of her without hurting him.

"...sorry you had to find out this way." She admitted to him before turning and stepping out of the little dugout.

"I wouldn't worry, sir. Aisha's scarily good at beating people up." She heard Dinah say behind her, and a ghost of a smile flickered across her face as Aisha took her position in the middle of the ring.

"Would you like me to remove him or..?" Aspirant whispered quietly to her as her opponent - the blond one - noticed her in the arena and took that as her que to leave her own dugout. Her confident smirk and the challenging way she plowed one fist into her other open hand only annoyed Aisha.

"He's fine. Just don't let him interfere." She hissed out as her opponent stepped into the ring.

"Yo! I'm Yang. What's your X-ray and Vav name thingy?" She asked with a smirk on her face.

Aisha almost screamed at her. She was so keyed up, but between her obscuring helmet and her own impressive self control, she restrained the urge.

The media called her Sword Girl or… Swordswoman or something. And truthfully that wasn't far off from the name she had chosen for herself.

All Aisha wanted at this moment was to live up to the name that was - to her first teacher - nothing but a name tag.

She wanted it more than she wanted anything else. Not just to be successful - but to be recognized. To be respected. To be trusted.

That was always the part of Sigurd's stories she loved the most. People trusted him. They came to him with their problems. He was as far from being a burden on the people around him as possible.

The exact opposite of her.

That was what she wanted. That… trust. The trust that she could handle any problem.

The trust people had for Heroes.

Not capes. Heroes.

"Saber." She said resolutely, sticking her hand out and concentrating on her weapon. On her steel.

She had found that the sword wasn't ever truly all that far away from her. Like it was babysitting her or something, it refused to be further away from her than was strictly necessary. A fact that had left her increasingly annoyed recently.

Regardless, one benefit of this was that she was never truly disarmed.

As evidenced by the sound of ringing as her Guardian Angel sprung across the intervening distance, out of the dugout, and straight into her hand.

"Original." Yang replied to her, seemingly unimpressed by the display.

Usually Aisha would just roll her eyes at such a provocation. It was hardly even an insult - it was a simple sounding name.

But a quick look around her, at Emmy standing overhead, of her friends and brother in the dugout behind her, of the crowd of people watching her, well…

It almost - almost - pushed her past her breaking point.

But she was better than that. She was trained better than that. Even if it wasn't for a very long time - it was still one of the best things that ever happened to her.

So instead of replying with the scream that she had strangled in the back of her throat, or with a witty or mean-spirited comment, she just took her stance.

"...when the coin hits the ground, you may begin." Aspirant said carefully, glancing between them to make sure they understood.

Yang - seeing the pre-fight banter was over, took a boxing stance, and nodded.

Aisha nodded.

Aspirant flicked the coin into the air, and disappeared from her line of sight.

And suddenly her entire awareness narrowed down to just herself, her sword, and her opponent.

She wasn't even sure the coin had actually hit the ground before she moved.

But she did move, and when she did, it was with a perfect charge under her enemy's guard. Ducking low, Aisha grit her teeth and swung her blade two-handed, drawing it low across the ground and ripping a swath in the dirt as she then swung it upward.

Yang - familiar with attacks of this nature as a result of her sister's use of such a long weapon - recognized the attack for what it was but wasn't fast enough to stop it.

So she didn't.

Instead, she braced herself with her back foot and leaned in to the attack, allowing her aura to absorb the admittedly strong attack without simple physics pushing her backwards.

Something Aisha clearly didn't expect, as she withdrew her sword and started to charge forward before realizing that Yang hadn't been blown away by her strike.

Now herself unable to dodge, it was all Aisha could do to throw herself to the side, rolling away from her opponent. She attempted to push herself up from the maneuver, but felt pain stitch itself up along her side, accompanied by the sound of gunfire.

Aisha had been shot before. She knew how bad it hurt. What shocked her however, was;

"Fucking gun gauntlets?!" She screamed internally to herself, unable to stomach the stupidity of such a weapon hurting her.

"Oh fuck this!" She cursed as she pulled her blade up in front of her and ran her aura through it until two of the symbols on the flat side of the blade lit up.

"Aren't you a little too young to be sw-" Yang began to say tauntingly, only to blanch as Aisha stuck the blade of her sword into the air and a tremendous duplicate of it manifested in the air overhead. Like a guillotine being drawn, Aisha swung Guardian Angel downward on her opponent, more to create some space than to actually hit her.

The blade landed with a great crash, sending a shockwave throughout the arena, and Aisha was finally able to stand up - only for more of those spikes of pain to slam into her from her opposite side.

Turning, she found the blond, having clearly at least partially dodged her attack, strafing around her, swinging her arms in haphazard motions that each sent yet more blasts of gunfire in Aisha's direction. Her blond hair had begun to glow as though backlit by something and Aisha couldn't help but grimace.

Enemies that powered up as you attacked them sucked.

Growling, she began to move in the opposite direction the blond was running in, swinging her blade to deflect what attacks she could, and dodging what shots she couldn't.

She tried to narrow the circle they were running in by shifting forward, hoping to tighten the gap between them so she could actually get into melee, but growled irritably when it turned out her opponent was keenly aware of her range advantage.

Aisha had… never had this much trouble with an opponent before.

Oh, she had lost before. There was no beating whoever the hell Emmy was right now, let alone Nexus.

But those losses had been because of the overwhelming advantages her opponents had over her. This… this felt like she had been outsmarted, and she hated it.

Finally deciding that she had to try something, Aisha lifted a hand and took a crack at the only ranged attack Sigurd had ever tried to explain to her that she could actually do.

Using the second seal on her sword, she conjured a cone shaped dagger in the air - and she punched it.

At first it was clear that Yang wasn't expecting the attack to really go anywhere, but she soon found herself forced to dodge as the first spike slammed into the barrier behind her and got stuck within the dense wall of magical power surrounding the arena.

Now having some breathing room, Aisha began to close in, not just conjuring more daggers to fire at her foe, but even tossing her sword into the air and slamming it towards her as a projectile whenever she could guarantee a hit.

Not that Yang stopped firing on her the entire time.

All things considered, while Yang's weaker attacks hit a great deal more than Aisha's by the time they both made it to melee range with each other at the center of the arena, Aisha's much heavier, less accurate attacks had left the duo on even ground.

"Okay. Kinda cool." Yang conceded with a huff as Aisha swung her sword down on her and she lifted her gauntleted hands to block it. Sparks flew as the serrated edge of Guardian Angel ground against the aura reinforced weapons.

"But only kinda!" The blond yelled with a smile as her hair continued to glow ever brighter, and she pushed back against Aisha's attack causing her to stumble backwards. Darting forward to take advantage of her momentary loss of balance, Yang swung a haymaker at Aisha, sending her flying across the arena to bounce off the protective barrier with a distinctly unpleasant crunching noise.

When she landed, Aisha let out a loud gasp as the pain of the attack lanced through her.

She… wasn't sure what to do here. She had fought exactly two types of people before this. People who were so much better than her there was almost no point - and people with no training in any kind of martial art whatsoever.

When matched against someone better than her but not… that much better than her, she felt almost perplexed.

She was stuck between giving up or finding a way through.

"More power!" Aisha grunted to herself, calling her sword back to her side and overextending her aura to force the third sigil on the blade to light up. Sure one more good hit would take her out of the fight, but if it gave her an advantage then surely she could make it back, right? For Sigurd, there was always a way out.

She just had to be clever.

As though responding to her dogged determination, Guardian Angel began to glow, and a steady stream of feathers began to fall to the ground around her. They appeared and fell so quickly that within mere moments Aisha found herself practically laying in a mountain of them.

It was only then that she pointed the tip of her blade at her foe.

At which point every single feather, and all those that fell afterward, zipped towards Yang with the speed and sharpness of an arrow in flight.

Suddenly, dozens if not hundreds of attacks were unerringly following Yang across the battlefield as she frantically refocused her efforts on deflecting, dodging, and blocking the onslaught.

"Oh thank god." Aisha hissed out through the pain she was currently feeling, only to turn and be stunned by what she found.

At some point, Yang had given up on dodging, and had begun to charge straight towards Aisha, choosing simply to endure the attacks splashing off of her aura. As she did so, the glow surrounding her began to grow ever brighter.

Amidst the sea of black fathers she was fighting her way through, it was like she was a comet charging across the night sky.

Aisha couldn't understand how her opponent could have so much aura left to do that with. What kind of power up bullshit was this?!

So thinking, she decided to add to the wave of attacks already raining down on her foe. She was a human being. She had to have a limit, and Aisha had given as good as she'd got.

There was no way she could take too many more big hits!

So it became, that the ultimate outcome of the fight - at least, as far as Aisha was concerned, was who would drop dead first.

Her? Or Yang?

When the answer turned out to be 'Yang' as signed by the fist that leapt out of the deluge of attacks she was launching to take her out with a punch to her gut, Aisha was beyond panicked.

As Yang's fist connected and Aisha found herself abruptly about to lose her lunch, she couldn't help but hyperfixate on one spot overhead, in the crowd.

It was Gram, watching her.

Watching her almost… impassionately.

And that moment, as Aspirant called out the end of the fight…

That was the moment Aisha Laborn had her Worst Day Ever.

Point of View: Multiversal Emulator

"Hurgh." You groan abruptly as a sensation of intense nausea racks your being. Or… well, not nausea. If you had to describe it in more detail, you would almost describe it as… discomfort. But the discomfort was coming from your Shard side. You… You were just feeling the aftereffects.

You really, really, really, wish you knew what the hell was going on right now.

"Emmy?!" Taylor barks from next to you, practically teleporting to your side the second you bend over and start wretching.

What the hell was going on? The last thing you remember seeing was Aisha losing and then…

And then this?

You pale slightly as the handful of things that could be causing this uncomfortable feedback abruptly narrows itself down to just one thing.

You are way too close to an oncoming trigger event. Glancing down at Aisha and practically feeling the anger and despair washing off of her, you have zero guesses as to who it is.

"Ah… yeah. J-Just… Sit down. Gonna be a bad one." You grunt to Taylor, pulling her down to sit next to you.

"A bad--" She clearly begins to ask, only for her to pause as the abrupt sensation of something being ripped off of you like an arm or a leg distorts your facial expression.

"Yeah. Bad one. Is now a bad time to explain that powers can kind of get pregnant?" You blurt out - just as the wave of commands for you to temporarily shut down and offer support to the nearby Trigger hits you - and you briefly stop existing.

Last edited: Sep 14, 2022

519

Bowler Hat Guy

Sep 14, 2022

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