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Earning Her Stripes (Worm AU fanfic)

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Ack, Jan 4, 2020.

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  1. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    They're going to connect this one to the Uber & Leet one, not to the Winslow one.
     
  2. Threadmarks: Part Fifteen: Agreements and Confrontations
    Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Earning Her Stripes

    Part Fifteen: Agreements and Confrontations

    [A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]


    Taylor

    The car ride home was quiet and introspective on both sides. Taylor didn't know what thoughts were going through her father's head, but she had enough of her own to worry about, given that her rash actions had come close to killing him, and had nearly wrecked the pickup. Was it wrong that she barely even considered the latter as a problem? If Dad hadn't been there and I'd been hit … would I have cared, or just kept going?

    That was something to worry about. Just because I can wreck something, doesn't mean I should. Winslow being a prime example.

    Not that she was about to regret the destruction of the school. Certainly, it had been a mostly impulsive act, but as far as she was concerned, it was entirely justified. If they'd wanted her to not destroy it, then they shouldn't have let people bully her in it to the point that she got powers.

    Anyway, I didn't wreck it. It was in perfectly good condition until I let it go. Not my fault it couldn't stick the landing.

    Just for a moment, she wished she could've seen Principal Blackwell's face when she saw the news. Or better yet, when she saw the rubble first-hand. Fuck her and the power trip she rode in on.

    "Taylor?"

    Jolted out of her reverie, she looked around. "Yeah, Dad?"

    "I'm thinking perhaps it might not be a bad idea for us to work out some rules for you to follow when you do go out as a cape."

    She blinked and stared at him, wondering how he'd managed to read her mind. For some reason, she'd assumed he was thinking 'Dad' thoughts, to do with paying bills and other boring adult business. Apparently not.

    "Rules?" she asked cautiously. "What sort of rules?"

    When she didn't shut him down entirely, he seemed to relax a little. "Well, basic ones, such as not breaking things that really don't need to be broken, like buildings. Oh, and cars, too. Throwing cars might be a superhero trope, but every car belongs to someone and it might be their sole means of getting to work. And also being careful when you're dealing with people. They're a lot more breakable than cars and buildings, even if they're bad guys."

    That all seemed fairly straightforward. "Well, I wasn't about to go on a roaring rampage of destruction," she pointed out. "Or go around to Emma's house and punch her in the face."

    "Good, good," he said agreeably. "Glad to see that's still the plan. Or not the plan, as the case may be."

    "It's still a little bit annoying that Principal Blackwell's version of events says that I wasn't even locked in the locker." She thumped her head against the headrest. "It makes me look stupid, and might even weaken the lawsuit if their lawyer leans on it hard enough. That's why I wanted to talk to Blockade and get his side of things. I mean, if he fronts up and says, 'your honour, that locker was definitely locked when I tore it open', they've gotta pay attention, right?"

    "Well, I know I'd pay attention if some guy in an eight-foot-tall power-suit testified to that sort of thing," Danny agreed. "It wasn't a bad plan. Your execution needed refining, was all."

    She rolled her eyes. "I already said I was sorry for running out into traffic and nearly wrecking that guy's pickup."

    "You did," agreed Danny. "But saying sorry to me doesn't pay for the thousands of dollars' worth of panel damage. Now, his insurance will probably cover it, especially as he wasn't breaking the road rules as far as I can tell. But he's still got to pay the excess, which is probably going to knock his finances around. Bottom line: you didn't totally wreck his life, but he is going to be affected by this for some time to come. If we can manage to avoid this as much as possible in future, that'll be a good thing."

    Taylor thought about that. He was making some reasonable points, and he wasn't saying anything she could actually argue with. "I was half expecting you to say I needed to mow lawns or something until I'd earned the money to pay him back," she confessed.

    "I could have led with that," he agreed. "But you're mature for your age, and you've acknowledged where you went wrong. Forcing you to perform punitive chores over and above the grounding wouldn't actually fix anything, and it would risk outing you as a parahuman. I'd prefer not to go down that road, thanks."

    "Well, I'll definitely try not to do it again," she assured him.

    He smiled. "I'd appreciate that. I don't have all that much hair left, and it can only take so much stress. However ..." He paused for a moment. "Have you thought about joining the Wards? Just as a suggestion?"

    She took a deep breath and reminded herself that he had her welfare in mind, that it wasn't an attempt to shirk his responsibilities as a father. Also, he'd phrased it as a suggestion, not an ultimatum.

    "Two reasons why not," she said. "First, once they did power testing and figured out that yes, it was me who improved Winslow's overall look considerably, they'd have us both over a barrel. I'm suspecting they'd take away all option for me to leave the Wards until they were done with me, or alternatively hit you with legal penalties until you agreed to sign me into the program for the foreseeable future. Also, I'm pretty sure that would sink the lawsuit for good."

    He pursed his lips as he drove, tilting his head in a thoughtful manner. "That's a very good reason. What was your second one?"

    She shrugged. "I just got out of one high school drama-filled hellhole. Going to Arcadia, I'm likely to encounter another, if not as horrific. Why would I voluntarily expose myself to a third one, this one with powers attached?"

    "Ah. Good point." He nodded in agreement. "Wards, off the table. Understood."

    "Good." She leaned back in her seat. "Thanks for being understanding."

    "Hey," he said lightly. "I might not be the greatest dad in the world, but I'll always try to be there for you."

    Closing her eyes, she smiled. "I know."

    <><>​

    An Inner-City Park

    Firebird


    "What the hell?" Still costumed up, as were Emma and Madison, Sophia glared at the both of them. "Why'd you wrap up the patrol?" She took a step closer to Emma, fists clenched. "Is this more bullshit about how you're the team leader now, so you get to give us stupid orders whenever you want?"

    Emma knew damn well that trying to tell Sophia to calm down would invariably have the exact opposite result, so she did no such thing. Glancing around, she decided that the inevitable rubberneckers were too far away to hear what they were saying. Might as well just say it.

    "Shadow Stalker," she said formally, "Blockade and I are concerned about you. We want to talk to you about things you've been doing and saying. Can we maybe go back to Blockade's workshop so we can chat out of costume?"

    At that moment, she felt most strongly the lack of a classic superhero base. Having a location they could gather out of costume to talk frankly about cape matters without worrying about eavesdroppers was always a good thing. The closest thing they had in that regard was the abandoned warehouse Madison was using for her Tinkering, and that was somewhat lacking in creature comforts, not to mention uncomfortably warm when she was doing her good-steel pours.

    "Why bother de-costuming?" Sophia snarked. "Pick a rooftop, any rooftop."

    "That's not a good option for me." Madison wasn't protesting; she was stating a fact. Putting the ball back in Sophia's court. It wasn't that she couldn't get her suit up onto any given rooftop. The jump jets would see to that. The simple fact was, weighing in at four tons, she would be in danger of falling through any given rooftop, and they were all fully aware of it.

    "Yeah?" Sophia gave the suit a derisive look. "Seems to me that's a 'you' problem, not a 'me' problem. If you could pull your head out of your butt long enough to build something lightweight, you wouldn't have this issue."

    The bulky suit took a step forward. "You know that's not how my power works. Why are you being so difficult?"

    Sophia twitched her head as though she were rolling her eyes behind the hockey mask. "Why are you being such pissy little snowflakes? You wanted to talk to me about Hebert, right?"

    Emma looked around again. Their audience was still keeping its distance, but she couldn't guarantee that there weren't any high-tech microphones or Thinker powers being directed at them. "Her, yes," she conceded.

    Sophia shrugged. "Then there's nothing to talk about. She's going down. We all know she's going down. You two weak sisters can wimp out all you like, but it's gonna happen."

    "Okay, can we just take a step back here?" asked Madison. "Why? What's the endgame? What do you get out of this? What's the payoff?"

    Sophia gave Madison's suit a look, her head-tilt expressing the puzzled surprise that Emma just knew Sophia was showing on her face. "Not sure what you're asking there, short stuff. I just told you what the payoff is. Hebert's going down."

    "Yes, but why?" Emma tried to make the question sound as reasonable as possible. "What's the point?"

    The expression Emma could see through the hockey mask now that Sophia was looking at her was reminiscent of a fifth grader trying to understand quantum theory; the words were all there, but she couldn't understand the order they'd been placed in. "What do you mean, why? The point of all this has always been to fuck with Hebert. But now she's happy, and she's got good powers, and she doesn't deserve any of that shit."

    "But why doesn't she deserve it?" Madison was somehow able to tune her modulator to match Emma's reasonable tone. "We don't lose anything from it. We could just walk away. Be heroes. Leave her be."

    "She doesn't deserve it, because she's Hebert," insisted Sophia, as though explaining how two plus two inevitably equalled four. "She deserves to be down in the dirt. We had her there. But we took our eye off the ball, and she got up again. She's pretending she's got a right to walk around with her head in the air, like she's better than everyone. She's acting like she deserves to have powers. Well, somebody needs to show her just how wrong she is, and that somebody is me."

    This was getting nowhere. "You're too close to this," Emma said. "You're treating it like a zero-sum game, like her winning equals you losing. What if it wasn't like that? What if her success didn't affect you?"

    Sophia shook her head. "You're not making any sense. Hebert is a loser. We're winners. We're strong. The strong belong on top. The weak deserve to be kept down. I thought I taught you that."

    Emma hid a grimace as she remembered acting on those very words. Why did I even take that seriously? There was no way she would consider acting like that now.

    "Bullshit." Fortunately, Madison had her exterior speakers turned to the lowest volume. "We're heroes. Heroes help everyone." She left the rest of it unspoken, but Emma heard it just fine: The ones who push people down are the villains.

    It seemed Sophia had also heard the subtext, because she tilted her head slightly. "You really think we should back off on Hebert?"

    Emma nodded, feeling a surge of hope. Holy shit, she's actually listening. "I really do. In fact, I think we should reconsider the whole thing. I mean, what's she ever done to us?"

    "Also, if that power we saw was any indication, she's strong," Madison added helpfully. "Not weak at all. That makes her one of us instead of one of them, right?"

    "… huh." Sophia rubbed her chin under the hockey mask. "Maybe we can back off for a bit until I've got this figured out." She raised a finger. "But she's not off the hook, not yet."

    "That's all I ask." Emma let out her breath in a silent sigh of relief. It wasn't much, but it was a start. "Just think it over, okay?"

    "I can do that." Sophia glanced from Madison to Emma and back again. "Still, we haven't kicked any ass today yet. How about we go find a Merchant drug den or something? I want to fuck up some deserving asshole's day."

    "I can do one better than that." Madison sounded pleased with herself. "Pretty sure the Empire's going to be holding a dog-fighting ring tonight, somewhere. I'm thinking we find a foot-soldier and shake him down until he gives with the deets, then crash the party."

    Sophia grinned. "Perfect."

    As they prepared to leave the park, Emma looked up at the powersuit's glowing eyes and raised her eyebrows in silent query. Do you think that went well?

    In response, the massive metal shoulders shifted up and down in a shrug. I dunno. Wait and see.

    Sophia was their friend. They owed her that much.

    <><>​

    Armsmaster

    Colin looked up from the latest iteration of his halberd as the screen over the workbench dinged with an incoming alert. He selected the ACCEPT option from his helmet HUD and leaned over the halberd again. "Yes?"

    "Armsmaster, this is Lieutenant Harris. You asked to be copied in on any other incidents similar to the 'woman of stone' situation with Uber and Leet?"

    "Yes, yes, I did. You have something?" He put the micro-probe down and straightened up to face the screen. The halberd could wait.

    "We do. About thirty minutes ago, a woman and a man stepped into traffic in the Downtown area, right in front of a pickup truck. The driver was unable to avoid a collision. He hit the man square on, and the woman took a glancing blow."

    "And the result?" Colin saw images incoming to his helmet, and blinked to accept them.

    "The man bounced off his fender like a rubber ball, but the woman destroyed the panelling all the way down the side of the truck. It's like he scraped it past a telephone pole. What witness statements we have indicate that the woman didn't move at all."

    "That fits, yes. Do we have any actual descriptions of the people involved?" Unconsciously, he leaned forward as he listened for the reply from the PRT officer on the screen. The photos opened up in his HUD, showing the wreckage of the side panels.

    "Just a petite woman or a tall girl, and a taller man. They left the scene before anyone could get a name, or even take a picture. The driver said she had dark hair and was wearing white from head to toe, but none of the CCTV images we've been able to gather show anyone with that colour combination."

    Colin thought back to the previous incident. That girl had been wearing white, too. The chances of it being the same one were getting better all the time. "Thank you anyway. Send me the final report, please. I'd appreciate it."

    "Roger that, sir. Harris, out." The screen went blank again.

    Thoughtfully, Colin put the images up on the screen and began to study them in detail. There was minimal damage shown to the pickup's fender, where the man had reportedly bounced off it, but Harris hadn't been overly exaggerating when he said the side-panels had been destroyed. Some had been torn off altogether, while others were just horribly bent inward. Even the wing-mirror had been ripped off and lay some distance behind the point where the pickup had stopped. That's probably where she was standing.

    He went over the footage that had also been sent through but as Harris had noted, there were no girls in white showing up on it. There were a few with dark hair, and some tall men, but no white clothing in evidence.

    Activating a second screen, he roughed out a 3D model of the street, then activated a program designed to place the various elements on it to recreate the scene. While he was working out the viewpoints shown by the various CCTV cameras, the first screen dinged again with a notification.

    A witness has placed Blockade of The Real Thing almost directly across the road at the time of the incident – Harris.

    That was definitely something. Leaving the computer to work out the final placement of the cameras, he called up the number Firebird had supplied as a contact. There was none for Blockade or even Shadow Stalker, but it would do for the moment.

    Let's see what we have with this.

    <><>​

    Firebird

    The bulk and heft of the Blockade armour might have made it difficult for Madison to get it into buildings with low ceilings, or onto rooftops, but it was tailor-made for intimidating the absolute fuck out of gangland lowlives. Emma knew the classic trope involved dangling them off rooftops until they spilled their guts, but some of these guys weighed a lot more than she did, and she didn't want to be faced with the choice of letting go or falling with them. She didn't want to accidentally kill them, after all.

    Sophia had actually suggested something of the sort, only with two of them holding the guy, but somehow Emma suspected that wouldn't be nearly as scary. However, when Madison gripped the asshole's ankles with one metallic hand and hoisted him up until his head was dangling a good six feet off the grimy asphalt of the alleyway, he hastened to talk. Emma personally suspected it was the glowing red eyes and the robotic tone Madison affected that really loosened his tongue.

    The location and time of the upcoming dogfight were just two of the details that they got from the babbling mook. Emma took note of the rest, because it was all useful data, but they could only deal with one thing at a time. After he ran dry, Madison began to lower him to the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, Emma noticed Sophia loading her crossbow.

    "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she hissed, moving so the guy wouldn't see what her teammate was up to. "He answered our questions!"

    "And now he'll run straight to Kaiser and tell him what's going on!" Sophia whispered back. "I'll just nail him to the wall for a few hours."

    "And the next guy'll refuse to talk to us altogether." Emma couldn't believe Sophia didn't get this. "Anyway, he won't say a word."

    Sophia rolled her eyes. "And you know this how?"

    Emma waited until fading footsteps heralded the exit of their interrogation target. "Because what idiot goes to the boss and says he's just spilled the beans on everything he knows about? Trust me; he saw nothing, he heard nothing, he said nothing. If he admits to speaking to us, he's dead."

    The crossbow went away again, but Sophia gave Emma a dirty look. "I sure hope you're right about this. If we show up at that dogfight and find the whole Empire Eighty-Eight cape lineup waiting on us, it's gonna suck giant stinky elephant balls."

    "Don't worry, Shadow Stalker," Madison jibed. "I'll protect you from those mean old Empire Eighty-Eight capes."

    Just as Sophia gave the looming powersuit the finger, Emma's phone rang. "Hang on, I've got to take this." Stepping away from the other two, she pulled out her burner phone and looked at the number. It wasn't familiar to her, but she swiped the accept icon anyway. "Hello?"

    "Hello, Firebird." She recognised the voice at once. "Do you have a moment to talk?"

    "Armsmaster, hi," she replied, raising her voice slightly so her teammates could hear. "Sure. How can I help?"

    "I was hoping to ask Blockade a few questions. There was a traffic accident on Leland Street about half an hour ago, and witness statements place him across the road at the time. Could you put him on?"

    "We're currently out and about," Emma hedged, "but I can put the phone on speaker. One second." She tapped the appropriate icon, and gestured to Madison. "Blockade? It's for you."

    "Blockade here," Madison said promptly. "What's the problem?"

    "Did you witness a traffic accident on Leland Street half an hour ago? More specifically, did you happen to see who was involved?"

    Sophia opened her mouth and Emma frowned, making a slashing cut-off motion with her free hand. She knew damn well what Sophia intended to say—Yeah, that was Taylor Hebert—and was quite willing to cut the call if she had to.

    Madison, however, forestalled the danger by reaching down and wrapping her entire hand around Sophia's head, gagging her quite effectively. "Yes, I was in that location," she said as though nothing untoward were happening. "However, I was looking in a different direction when it happened. By the time I realised what was going on, I couldn't see who had caused it. The driver's airbags had functioned adequately and he was entirely unharmed, so I chose not to make a nuisance out of myself by blocking traffic."

    There was a pause at the other end. "Ahh. Understood. Well, thank you for that."

    Emma watched with mild bemusement as a wildly struggling Sophia went to smoke form and back again without managing to free herself. "Was there anything else we could help you with, Armsmaster?"

    "No, that's it for the time being," he said with barely concealed disappointment. "Thank you for your time."

    "You're welcome." She cut the call.

    As Emma was putting her phone away, Madison released Sophia. "What the fuck?" blazed the ex-vigilante. "What did you do to your suit?"

    "What do you mean, what did I do to it?" Madison managed to sound almost affronted. "My suit is working entirely within specs."

    "I mean, I couldn't ghost through it!" Sophia glared at Madison, as though trying (and failing) to figure out how to kick the ass of an eight-foot-tall human-piloted robot. "How did you do that?"

    "It's made from good steel," Madison explained patiently. "It doesn't let anything pass through it. I formulated it better than that."

    "Steel doesn't work like that!" It was a screech of righteous outrage.

    "Well, no. Steel doesn't. But good steel does." Madison's tone was as matter-of-fact as someone explaining that things fall down, water makes things wet, and the sky is occasionally blue.

    "Argh!" Sophia kicked out at a stray tin can lying inoffensively nearby. It clattered and banged as it bounced off down the alleyway. "Tinkertech is such fucking bullshit!"

    "No argument there." Emma made sure not to so much as crack a smile, no matter how funny she found it. "But how about we go after the Empire instead of each other?"

    It was precisely the right thing to say. Sophia cracked her knuckles. "Let's fuckin' do that."

    "Let's go kick ass and take names."

    "Names?" asked Emma rhetorically. "Who needs their names?"



    End of Part Fifteen
     
  3. nobody3702

    nobody3702 Getting sticky.

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    Emma has a point.

    Also can´t wait to see where will Armsmaster´s search lead to.
     
  4. Therandomestpersons

    Therandomestpersons Reader of things.

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    Because, from my understanding, being difficult is basically Sophia’s thing. Along with being deranged.
    Also, Emma’s definitely got a point here. Going up to your supervillain boss and admitting that you just spilled the beans on everything you could, -and weren’t even tortured first- is a good way to taking a quick dirt nap.
     
    Last edited: Oct 9, 2022
  5. Simonbob

    Simonbob Really? You don't say.

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    If you're going to arrest them, you might want the occasional detail.
     
    Ack and Death by Chains like this.
  6. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    The thing about Sophia being difficult is that she was always this way, Madison and Emma used to be of a mindset where they were perfectly okay with this.

    Now, they're not, and she still is.
     
  7. Therandomestpersons

    Therandomestpersons Reader of things.

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    Has anyone made a joke about how Emma and Madison getting powers actually improved their mental wellbeing before? Because if not, then I feel its rather relevant considering what is going on.
     
  8. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    ... it's not actually a joke.

    It's a plot point.

    Emma's vial contained aspects that push her, physically and mentally, toward balance in all things. Madison's is pushing her toward stability in all things.

    They are literally being shardfucked into sanity.
     
    Saota, preier, Reality Mode and 8 others like this.
  9. Therandomestpersons

    Therandomestpersons Reader of things.

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    Well, can’t say I expected that, though it does make a lot of sense now that you explain it. Their sudden development of a conscious is rather odd in hindsight.
     
    Death by Chains and Ack like this.
  10. Robert Stadler

    Robert Stadler Getting sticky.

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    It might help to make this more explicit in the story. We're used to having the shards mess with people, but I can't think of any canon examples of capes becoming more sane as a result of getting powers, so it didn't occur to me that this was what was happening.

    You may be thinking of Emma as getting balance, but I was thinking of it as just generic athleticism. You may be thinking of Madison as getting stability, but I was thinking of it as robustness-inflected Tinker powers.
     
    Kaiserfrost, Death by Chains and Ack like this.
  11. Extras: About Emma's, Madison's and Taylor's powers, and the vial effects on them
    Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Crossposted from SB:

    Emma:
    • The ability to express any purely physical skill to the maximum level of capability possible within her physical limits. She can also analyse what needs to be done.
    • For example, if she needs to fight, she can fight to the limit of her own physical capability, and read an opponent's fighting stance and see what they're likely to do before they do.
    • Likewise, she can handle any weapon and automatically make use of its options to its maximum possible capability.
    • Her body has been pushed to its maximum physical capability (according to her age, weight and body size) in dexterity, strength, endurance and health, and will permanently stay there. As she ages and gains body mass, this will improve.
    • Eyesight, hearing and other senses are now as good as they can be for her, and will stay that way. They will not deteriorate with age.
    • She will automatically heal microfractures, concussions, minor cuts and bruises overnight, and will heal any nastier injuries as if receiving the very best possible medical care.
    • Deeper cuts and broken bones will heal in days, not weeks.

    Her whole attitude now is about balance and adaptation to new circumstances.

    Madison:
    • The innate knowledge of how to build forges and foundries and cutting devices, and operate them to create 'good steel' from common metals.
    • The ability to Tinker up extremely durable devices (from good steel) and make them so they don't break or have egregious weak points.
    • Her Tinker specialty is tied to 'durable and powerful but overly bulky' as opposed to building certain items. She can theoretically build anything, but she can't build it small or delicate, and she really needs to build it out of good steel. So, no plastic radio earbuds that pick up sound from half a km away (she can build a helmet that weighs 20 lb, can be used to headbutt Lung into submission, and will be able to listen in on Kaiser holding a meeting with the Empire 88 from all the way across town, but not the earbud).
    • As a secondary power, she has more endurance and is much more resistant to heat exhaustion. She's also packed on some muscle, just from operating her forge.
    • Finally, the basic knowledge of how to operate devices she builds for herself, such as her power armour or her weapons.
    (Note that 'good steel' is equivalent to adamantium).

    Her mental state is now about stability and reliability.

    Taylor:
    • Creates a black and white force field (she can manually adjust the pattern, or otherwise it looks like oil on water) that manifests within an inch of her body (including her hair, not including her clothing). Will go over clothing if it's under an inch thick and she wants it to, otherwise it will go under clothing.
    • Force field is entirely impenetrable and can not be moved by any amount of force unless she wants it to. It will form automatically to protect her from harm, unless she doesn't want it to. New types of harm will be defended against, even if she is currently holding it off from another type. (She can't be feinted into dropping her shield against something irritating but harmless, then get hit by something that smooshes her).
    • By touching something, she can extend a TK-like field around it, with a visible effect that makes it go monochrome, gives it 10x durability and internal integrity, and makes it massless with regard to her (negating all weight and inertia as far as she's concerned). The effect lasts until she lets the item go. If it's moving when she lets it go, inertia kicks in. If it's off the ground, gravity kicks in. Upper limit not yet known.
    • Once the field encloses her completely, she's locked off in her own private pocket universe. She can vaguely feel physical impacts transmitted from the outer 'shell', but there's no direct communication, and she cannot be harmed by any means unless the dimensional barrier is first breached. If she's locked off like this, she's got a finite amount of air before she passes out or opens the field.
    • The field allows her to 'jump' high and and far, and 'fall' slowly, but she can't fly.

    Her mental state is now about doing what she wants to do, rather than bending over backward for a world that doesn't give a shit about her.
     
    Alex Ander, Shast, preier and 16 others like this.
  12. Threadmarks: Part Sixteen: All In
    Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Earning Her Stripes

    Part Sixteen: All In

    [A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



    Firebird

    The warehouse looked like so many in the industrial area of Brockton Bay; decrepit, run-down and in dire need of a few strategically placed demolition charges. However, vehicles of all descriptions were parked haphazardly in the weed-grown parking lot, most of which sported rebel flag stickers and other such insignia. From within the rusty structure could be heard booming thrash music. Emma decided that her first order of business once she was inside would be to wreck the speakers.

    "So, this is the place, huh?" Madison's synthesised voice did not sound impressed.

    "Well, what did you expect?" snarked Sophia. "A fuckin' arena with Nazi flags everywhere?"

    "I wasn't doubting you." It seemed Madison had taken heed of Emma's request and was actively trying not to aggravate her. "I was just going to say something about how much of a shithole it was, and how much it suits the assholes inside."

    "Well … yeah, that's true." Sophia slapped the power armour on the elbow, that being as high as she could reach on it. "So, are we gonna kick ass or what?"

    Emma noted the lack of 'take names'. "Quick question before we start. Do you think our focus should be handing these guys over to the cops, or just beating the shit out of them to teach them a lesson about hurting dogs?"

    "Pffft." Sophia sounded like she was rolling her eyes. "Half the cops are probably in on it. We'd be wasting our time, waiting on them to show. We beat the snot out of them, let the doggies go, maybe Mads turns a few of their cars into modern art, then we go on our merry way. Message sent."

    "Do me a favour and use my cape name. I use yours." Madison's voice was very definite about this.

    Again, Sophia's voice sounded like she was rolling her eyes. "Okay, fine, Blockade turns a few of their cars into modern art. Happy?"

    "Yes." Madison paused. "I'm happy to go with kicking ass to pass on a lesson," she said. "Firebird?"

    "I'm a little more dubious about destroying their personal property," Emma decided. "Don't touch their cars unless you have to do something like beat Hookwolf over the head with one. Let's be professional about this, not petty. Also, Shadow Stalker, once someone's ass is kicked, you move on. And no going for kill-shots. The cops are going to attend at some point, and I'd rather the Real Thing not be known for murdering people."

    "They're fuckin' racist redneck assholes, not people." It was clear Sophia thought she was being funny.

    Emma wasn't playing that game. "I don't care what they are. They're still people, and we only offer lethal damage if they're trying to kill us. Got it? Self defence only. Always assume someone's got a camera." It was something her father had drummed into her for other reasons altogether, but which had stood her in good stead.

    "Jesus fuck, okay. Fine. Pull the stick out of your ass already." Sophia gestured toward the warehouse. "So, are we gonna break up their little testosterone party sometime tonight, or are we gonna have a tea party out here instead?"

    "We're doing this," Emma said firmly. "Blockade, if you want to do the honours?"

    "I thought you'd never ask." The looming power armour started toward the warehouse door at a steady, implacable pace. "Try to stay behind me."

    "Yeah, right. Bullets can't touch me." Sophia turned to shadow and headed toward the wall of the warehouse, while Emma followed Madison.

    "Is it just me, or is she intent on being a dick?" Fortunately, Madison kept the volume down on her speakers.

    "To be honest?" Emma shook her head. "I'm starting to wonder if she hasn't always been a dick. If we haven't been dicks. But we're just starting to notice it, and she isn't."

    "I … we need to talk about this more. After." It was easy to see why Madison was changing topics, as the guards on the doors had just noticed them. "Hi, guys. Quick question. Want to run away now, or get the snot beaten out of you first? Your choice."

    Both the guards had guns out now, but Madison's armour was bearing down on them with a certain air of inevitability. She'd chosen not to bring along her big gun, mainly because there was nothing in the warehouse that was likely to require it. All she had was huge robot fists, which Emma had to admit were pretty damn frightening in their own right.

    The guards glanced at each other, then up at the approaching power armour. One of them pointed his pistol at Emma; she'd been waiting for this, and threw one of her discs. It ricocheted off the ground between them, smacked him full in the face, then arced back over to land in her hand. The guard dropped his gun, then slowly fell over.

    "Well, that's one of you." Madison kept walking forward. "Wanna make it a twofer?"

    The second guard stared up at her. "Fuck this shit," he blurted, and bolted away off to the side. Emma kept an eye on him in case he caught a sudden case of bravery, but he vanished into the parking lot.

    There was a sudden increase in noise from the inside, and Sophia's voice came over the radio. "Come on, guys, where are you?"

    Madison shook her head and tromped forward, carefully stepping over the unconscious guard's body. "Incoming now."

    Emma followed along, ready for action.

    <><>​

    Blockade

    If there was one thing Madison loved about having powers, it was the feeling of invincibility she got from her Blockade armour. Once she was inside it, she didn't have to be scared of anything anymore. Guns were being fired at her, but the bullets simply careened off the good-steel carapace. She knew damn well that it would take more than a tank shell to even crack the outer casing, so she paid mind to Emma's injunction to Sophia and only backhanded them gently.

    And then the crowd in front of her cleared, and she saw him. Hookwolf, the powerhouse of the Empire Eighty-Eight. Flanking him were Cricket and Stormtiger.

    She keyed the radio button. "Guys, heads up. The capes are here. I got the murderblender."

    "Well, shit," Emma responded. "This just got a whole lot more interesting."

    "Might want to watch it, Blockade." That was Sophia. "We don't know if your Meccano toy there can stand up to Hooky yet."

    Seriously, what the fuck was up with the negativity Sophia was spreading all over the place? "You do your thing, Stalker. I'll do mine." Ever since she'd assembled the first iteration of the Blockade armour, Madison had wanted a chance to truly let loose with it, to see what sort of damage a full-strength punch would really do. And oh look, there was a prime target.

    "I got Cricket," Emma said. "Stalker, think you can take Stormtiger?"

    There was a long pause, then Sophia answered. It sounded like she was gritting her teeth. "No. I can't. We're in over our heads, here. We need to back off."

    "For fuck's sake, Stalker," said Madison impatiently. Sophia talked a big game, but the moment the odds were against her, she acted like it had always been her idea to go slow. Madison was starting to get sick of that shit. "If you can't handle your end with the capes, make yourself useful and go let the dogs out."

    "You don't get to give me orders like I'm your personal servant!"

    "It's part of the plan, Stalker,"
    Emma cut in. "We got this part. You handle the dogs." Off to the side, Madison saw Emma tank an air-blast from Stormtiger on her throwing-discs. "Go!"

    <><>​

    Firebird

    As Sophia finally got with the program, Emma backflipped over another air-blast and snapped a kick toward Cricket's solar plexus. It wasn't intended to hit, and neither was the elbow aimed at her collarbone. But with Cricket's attention divided, Emma's throwing disc bounced off the floor and smacked the curved-blade weapon out of her left hand. A moment later, Emma had both the disc and the weapon in hand.

    "Nice," she said, clicking the disc into place and spinning the weapon around her hand to get the feel of it. "What's it called?"

    Across the room, Stormtiger unleashed a barrage of attacks into the back of Madison's armour. In response, Madison picked Hookwolf up bodily from the floor where he'd been trying to grapple her down to ground level, and hit Stormtiger with him. They both went flying, and Madison tromped after them.

    "It's called a kama, little girl," husked Cricket. "Put it down before you hurt yourself."

    Emma just grinned. "Make me." Holding out her hand, she made the classic 'come at me, bro' gesture with her fingers. She could already see the outlines of Cricket's style, along with the holes that she could exploit.

    The disorientation was as sudden as it was vicious, and she staggered sideways. Her inner ears were going haywire, her stomach was churning, and she was having a hard time distinguishing up from down. Or either one from sideways.

    Cricket came in smoothly, like a huge stalking cat. Emma tried to keep her balance and regain her equilibrium, but it was getting harder all the time. She was barely able to get her throwing-discs in the way of a couple of desultory attacks the Empire villain threw her way to test her reflexes, and she knew she was up against it now.

    What she didn't know was how Cricket was doing this. Whatever it was, she had to get past it, or this fight was going to go catastrophically. Madison had her hands full with Hookwolf and Stormtiger—Hookwolf anyway, as Stormtiger wasn't doing so well—and she was pretty sure Sophia was sulking about being told what to do.

    She concentrated, trying to steady herself, deflected a kama strike with a disc, then totally missed the leg sweep that took her feet out from under her. Her reflexes were still good enough that she lit down rolling instead of utterly winding herself, but then Cricket was on top of her. A knee came down on either side of her body, pinning her, and then she was looking at the edge of Cricket's kama from way too close.

    Cricket grinned, holding Emma's hands out of the way where she couldn't bring the kama or either disc into play. "Warned you," she rasped, tracing Emma's lips with the tip of the weapon. The slightest pressure, and blood would be drawn. "Playing with fire, little girl."

    Emma had been here before. Held down on grimy concrete while some low-life tried to terrify her with the loss of her looks, cold metal trailing over her skin. But here and now, she was a far different person to that Emma, that helpless girl.

    Before she got powers, the mere suggestion of being in this situation would've brought her to the edge of a total breakdown. Now, she was more balanced, mentally and physically. And she was stronger. Much stronger.

    "Funny you should say that," she murmured, barely moving her lips.

    "What was that?" Cricket took the blade away and leaned in, not close enough to be head-butted but close enough for Emma's purposes anyway. "Speak up, little girl."

    "I said, funny you should say that. And the name's Firebird." Then Emma triggered the flame-jet under her wrist. It didn't have much range, but Cricket was definitely close enough. The flames went straight through the metal cage around her head and took her full in the face.

    Letting out an agonised shriek, Cricket bucked up and back, trying to get away from the jet. At the same time, the disorientation ceased, giving Emma full command of her faculties once more. She twisted and bucked, then spun the kama in her hand so it slashed across the back of Cricket's arm. Cricket pulled away instinctively, and then Emma was free.

    She went straight in for the attack, aware that she'd screwed up badly by underestimating her opponent, and not wanting to give her the chance to get the upper hand again. Cricket defended as best she could, but Emma had already noted the weaknesses in her style and bored straight through her defenses like a homing missile.

    First she took away the other kama, then she delivered a hammer-blow to Cricket's solar plexus that put the woman on the ground. Every time Cricket tried to get up again, Emma smashed her down. It was like she was back in that grimy little side street, laying punches into the faces of the ABB punks who had terrorised her so deeply that she'd seen nothing wrong with turning on her best friend.

    Every time she saw their sneering faces, she hit them again, and again, and again. Eventually, her vision cleared, leaving Cricket, beaten and bloodied, lying helpless on the stained concrete before her.

    A large metal hand descended on her shoulder as she stood panting over her foe. "I think she's had enough," Madison said gently. "You okay? You've got a cut there."

    Emma felt her face. It was barely a scratch, one that she'd barely felt at the time, when Cricket had been tracing the blade across her cheek. "It's nothing," she said, and looked around. Stormtiger was lying unconscious nearby, looking somewhat the worse for wear, but she could see nobody else. "Where is everyone?"

    "I nearly had Hookwolf, but he escaped." Madison sounded irritated with herself. "All the normals bolted while we were fighting."

    "And Shadow Stalker?" Emma looked up into the rafters, to see if their third member was lurking up there.

    "Last I saw, she was letting dogs out of their cages. Oh, and I've already called the PRT. They should be here soon."

    "Good," Emma said automatically. "Is anyone else hurt?"

    "Nothing they won't recover from," Madison reported. "Bruises, bumps, a few broken bones. Pretty sure you gave Cricket a concussion, though."

    Emma grimaced. "She's got some kind of disorientation power. I could barely stand up straight. Couldn't tell left from right. I had to put her down hard before she got it going again." Seeking to change the subject, she looked around. "Where the hell is Shadow Stalker? Surely it doesn't take that long to open a bunch of cages."

    "She is kind of taking a while. You think she's sitting on the roof or something because she's pissed with us?"

    Emma set her jaw. "If she is, then we're due a talk. I get her being salty about being kicked out of whatever leadership position she thought she was in, but her passive-aggressive bullshit is really starting to piss me off."

    "Got it." Madison's voice came over the radio. "Stalker. Whereabouts are you? You done there yet?"

    Nothing came back, not even dead air. Madison's suit turned its head to share a glance with Emma, then they started through to where the dog cages were stored. Half of them were open and empty, a few dogs still milling around, while the rest were still secured. Of Shadow Stalker, there was no sign.

    "Stalker!" yelled Emma, not caring who heard her. "Stop playing bullshit games! Where are you?"

    "Fuck." That was Madison. "Uh … Firebird? Just so you know, I might have slipped a tracking app onto Stalker's phone, the last time I updated it for her. And I just checked it. She's not on site."

    Emma went straight past 'you did WHAT?' and 'wait, did you bug my phone too?' as well as 'why would you do a thing like that?'. All of these were valid questions (though the answer to the last one was becoming more and more obvious), but she could circle back around to them later. In the interest of cutting to the chase, she settled on, "Okay, so where is she?"

    "About two miles away, and moving farther away in a straight line, or as straight as she can manage." Even with the synthesised voice, Madison sounded puzzled.

    Emma understood her confusion. "That's weird. A straight line doesn't suggest a patrol pattern. Is she going home?" This was totally out of character for her. Sophia was usually a lot more hard-charging than that. Something was definitely going on.

    There was a very brief pause, then the suit shook its head. "No. Wrong direction."

    "Send me a screenshot." It was the only thing she could think of.

    A moment later, her phone beeped and she checked the screen. Her eyes followed the line of Sophia's travel, then kept moving along that path until her eyes widened. "Shit!"

    "What? What is it?"

    She stepped up close to Madison and lowered her voice as much as she dared. "She's on a direct line for Taylor's house. That's where she's going. I'd put money on it."

    "Oh. Fuck."

    "Yeah. Fuck." Emma turned and sprinted for the door. Her next words were flung over her shoulder. "And if we don't get there as soon as possible, she's likely to do something we'll all regret."

    <><>​

    Outside the Hebert House

    Shadow Stalker


    Sophia crossed the road and vaulted the fence into the house-yard. It was a small two-story house, silent and dark, with a car parked along one side. She'd never actually been here before; she'd actually had to look up a phone-book website until she found D&A Hebert. Emma had once casually mentioned that Hebert's dead mom had been called Annette, so that had to be it.

    As silently as the shadows she took her name from, she prowled around the outside of the building, getting the lay of the land. This wasn't just time-wasting bullshit; she was also going over in her head what she was going to do next. Emma and Madison didn't understand why Taylor had to be pushed down, so she was going to make them understand.

    Hebert had to be the villain to their hero group. That had been the plan from the beginning, and it was still a perfectly good plan. If Emma and Madison were going to be weak sisters about it, then Sophia had to be the one to step up and carry it through to the end. In retrospect, giving the vial to Madison had been a mistake; no matter how tough she made her armour, she was still a weakling inside.

    Ideally, Hebert had to be accused of an actual crime that she couldn't pull some bullshit alibi for, and that she would be seen as a villain for, not some poor misunderstood teenager. The last thing Sophia wanted was for the PRT to get all soft and gooey and offer her a place in the Wards or something. That would put Hebert so far out of her reach it would be ridiculous.

    Also, it would be a good idea if she acted like a damn criminal, not some creampuff. It had to be something she was angry about too. And there was only one crime Sophia could figure out that would accomplish all her goals. Brand Hebert a criminal forever, and drive her into a rage so she just kept on digging the hole deeper.

    Danny Hebert had to die. More to the point, Taylor Hebert needed to be seen to have killed him. The frame had to make her look like an unhinged murderer, not a victimised teenager.

    Maybe grab a kitchen knife and stab him?

    Reluctantly, Sophia let that one go. If he was the last one to touch it, so his prints were on it instead of hers, it would end up looking like a really weird case of suicide. Hebert would be angry, sure, but she wouldn't be seen as a criminal.

    Unless … Her head came up. I take the knife into her room, wrap her hand around it, stab him to death, leave the knife under her bed with his blood and her prints. Cops do a search, find the knife, she attacks them … yeah. That'll work. Emma and Madison won't have a choice but to help me bring her down after that.

    It was elaborate, sure, but Hebert was surely stupid enough to lash out and start attacking before they got as far as asking about stuff like motives. And then the Real Thing would be able to find out just how strong her powers really were.

    Distant thunder rolled and she looked up at the sky. There was no overcast yet, but with the mountains to the west, any weather system that came in off the ocean tended to set in fast and dump inches of rain in a matter of hours; it was the tradeoff Brockton Bay made for mild winters. She did not want to be out and about in a sodden cloak and other gear. Okay, time to get this done.

    Stepping up to the back door, she ghosted inside.

    <><>​

    Firebird

    Emma clung to the handholds as the Blockade suit bored through the sky. About thirty seconds into the flight, she'd had the idea to call Taylor's house directly and warn them to take cover or flee, but there was a problem with that. The only way she had of communicating with Madison was via the radio, and if Sophia still had hers turned on, she'd be able to hear whatever they were planning.

    Technically, she could pull her own phone out and make the call, but that had a better than even chance of losing the device to the slipstream she was currently experiencing, and that was even if the Heberts could hear her over the thunder of Madison's suit thrusters. Madison could make the call from inside the sound-insulated suit, but she didn't have Taylor's number. Note to self: if we come out of this okay, prep better next time.

    Not that 'next time' had any guarantee of even happening right now. Having a member of the team going nuts and attacking an innocent civilian—whether Sophia went after Danny as a way of pushing Taylor over the edge, or went straight to murdering Taylor, they were both innocent by definition—was in no way a good look for the Real Thing.

    And, her conscience prodded her, it was actually a bad thing in an objective sense too. Neither Danny nor Taylor had asked for any of this to happen to them. Or even what she and the others had done to Taylor at Winslow and before. Fuck, we were such shitty people. I caused this. I brought this down on them.

    And then Madison cut the suit thrusters. They were in a ballistic arc, which would inevitably coincide with the ground if she didn't fire them up again, but at least they could talk.

    "Thirty seconds out!" Madison's speakers boomed over the whistling slipstream. "She's in the house!" Emma was aware that she'd built several visual enhancements into the suit, including telescopic and infrared sensing. "I need to do a high-G burn to stop, but it'll be too late. I'll have to throw you!"

    Well, shit. This is gonna be interesting. "Okay, do it!" she screamed over the noise of rushing wind.

    Madison's large robot hand came up and over her shoulder, and latched gently but firmly onto Emma. She released the handhold and let herself be carried forward as the entire suit flipped over until the feet were pointing in the direction they were travelling. And then Madison lit off the thrusters again, and boy she was not kidding about the 'high-G' aspect. Emma sagged against the power armour's grip like a rag doll, barely able to move a muscle.

    And then Madison raised her like a paper plane … and threw her. It wasn't even a strong throw, more like a light toss, but it redirected her momentum toward a rather familiar house. A rather familiar window. The window happened to be shut at the moment, but that was very definitely about to change.

    Shit, shit, shit, shit … This was going to hurt. Emma instinctively knew how to take a fall, but coming in at this angle and this speed was going to leave bruises. Straightening out, she brought both discs up in front of her, and lowered her head to let the helmet take the brunt of the impact.

    She came in through the window like a cannonball, spraying glass and bits of wood everywhere. Curling into a ball, she bounced off the floor—ouch—grazed the desk—ow—went straight through the closed bedroom door like it wasn't even there—motherfucker—tumbled down the length of the corridor, then rolled to her feet just in time to slam into (and through) the door to Danny's room.

    And there was Sophia goddamn Hess, struggling with Danny Hebert while holding a big fuck-off carving knife.

    <><>​

    A Few Seconds Earlier

    Shadow Stalker


    Sophia straightened up from wrapping Hebert's hand around the handle of the knife. It had been so tempting just to sink the blade into her, deal with her once and for all, but that wasn't the plan. The plan had never been to kill her. It was to fuck with her until she wished she was dead.

    Frowning, she raised her head and listened. Even inside, with the windows shut, the thunder was getting louder. But not in a normal way. It was like one long roll that just never ended.

    Fuck. I know what that is. She'd ignored the radio calls, earlier, but it looked like they'd somehow figured where she was going, and were coming here. How the fuck did they figure it out?

    It didn't matter. If she could make Hebert's father dead before they got here, with Hebert's prints on the knife, it would all work out. Hebert would lash out and make herself the villain, and the Real Thing would have the villain they'd been formed to fight.

    The not-so-distant roar suddenly cut out. Sophia wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but it couldn't be good. Had they landed? Were they making their way on foot? Whatever it was, she had to get this done before anyone kicked the door in and interfered.

    Ghosting through the bedroom door, she ran the length of the corridor as lightly as she could, and likewise passed through Hebert senior's door. Holding the knife just short of the blade was awkward, but she didn't want to smudge the freshly applied prints. She stepped up alongside the bed and poised herself for the first stab—

    The thrusters—there was nothing else they could be—thundered to life again, a whole lot closer. They sounded like the suit was going to crash right into the house like a meteor, or pass right over the top. The second option sounded more likely. They're going to overshoot, the idiots.

    Still, this meant she had a lot less time than she'd expected. She hastily stabbed downward, only to realise too late that the roar of the thrusters had woken up Hebert's dad, who had rolled aside just in time. She grabbed for him, and tried to pull him closer. He fought back, pulling away.

    The whole house shook under an impact like a runaway train. Glass shattered, then wood splintered. Something thundered the length of the corridor, then the bedroom door was smashed in. Looking a little the worse for wear in the glow of a street-light coming in through the window, Emma stood there.

    At another time and place, banter might have been exchanged. 'What do you think you're doing?' 'What I have to.' 'You don't have to do this.' 'It's for the good of the team.'

    But the time for talking was past. Sophia drove the knife forward, aiming at the old man's throat, but he twisted away from the blow again. When she jumped onto the bed to get to him, a throwing-disc flickered across the room and smashed the knife out of her hand. Emma followed it with a running dive across the bed that drove Sophia into the wall.

    Sophia went to shadow and escaped her grip, only to be slammed sideways by Emma's arm-guard even when she was supposed to be intangible. Emma forced her away from the bed and Hebert's dad, who was now on the far side of the bed, sidling toward the door.

    The light clicked on. Hebert stood in the room, dressed in her pyjamas, staring at them both. "What—?"

    "Get your dad out of here!" shouted Emma. "I'll explain later!"

    The words crystallised an understanding in Sophia's mind. Emma's turned against me. I'm going to have to kill her too. This was getting messier by the second. Jumping back from her erstwhile teammate, Sophia pulled her crossbow and shot Emma at point-blank range with it. The arrow shattered on the throwing-disc Emma brought around just in time.

    "Shadow Stalker, stand the fuck down!" bellowed Emma, but Sophia was done taking orders. She went to shadow so she could reload again, then saw Hebert dragging her dad from the room.

    Oh, no, you fucking don't. Ducking back from Emma, Sophia loosed the broad-head arrow at the dad, right in the neck where it would tear through arteries and veins, and she'd have to watch him bleed out.

    It hit him, barely sliced him at all, then fell to the ground.

    What the fuck? Sophia struggled to reload before they were out of sight, but Emma hit the crossbow with a throwing-disc, smashing it in half.

    Okay, enough was enough. It was time to do the 'strategic retreat' thing, regroup, and come at them when they weren't expecting it. Sophia backed off, then dived out through the wall of the house.

    As she flitted away through the shadows, one thought was uppermost in her mind.

    They didn't beat me. I don't lose. They betrayed me. And they'll pay for that.

    All of them.


    <><>​

    A Few Minutes Later, Downstairs

    Taylor


    All the lights in the house were on, and Blockade was making steady rounds of the yard. Dad was sitting on the couch with a freshly applied dressing on his neck. The cut wasn't deep, but it could definitely have been fatal if I hadn't been applying the protection aspect of my power to him.

    Firebird was doing the same as Blockade, going from door to window and back to door again, patrolling the interior of the house. I stopped her as she went past me for the umpteenth time. "How about that explanation, now?"

    Dad, still somewhat in a state of shock after someone had tried to murder him in his sleep, nodded. "I have to agree with that. What the hell is going on?"

    Drawing a deep breath, Firebird turned to the both of us and unbuckled the helmet. I gasped as she lifted it away, and I saw Emma's face underneath. But not the mean, vicious Emma I knew from school. This was a more careworn Emma, with something in her eyes that I hadn't seen in a long, long time.

    Guilt.

    "We absolutely do owe you that, yeah," she conceded. "But first … we owe you an apology. I owe you an apology. For everything I've done, for everything we've done. For what Shadow Stalker was about to do. It's all my fault."

    She gave me a searching look, and sighed gently at whatever she saw in my expression. I didn't say anything; the very fact of Emma apologising for anything was astonishing.

    "Yeah, I get it," she said. "You're wondering if this is another bullshit trick. It isn't. The bastard of it all is, you don't even know yet everything we've done to get at you. Well, that's all done now. It's over. Except for Shadow Stalker going nuts. I did not see that coming."

    "But—why?" asked Dad. "I don't know her. I'm pretty sure I've never met her. Why did she want to kill me?"

    Emma shook her head. "It's not about you. It's about Taylor. It's always been about Taylor." She looked at me and grimaced. "Sorry about that. Again."

    "I still have no idea why, though," I confessed. "Why is Shadow Stalker trying to get at me by killing my dad? Why are you two protecting us? What's going on?"

    Scrubbing her hands over her face, Emma seemed to brace herself. "Okay, so, from the top. A little while ago, Sophia Hess showed up at my place with a bunch of vials …"



    End of Part Sixteen
     
  13. CILinkz

    CILinkz Looks at you like that.

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    not really a fan of reconciliation. i liked the grey personality thing more. Good Heroes and a Villain to Taylor, even if they wanted to make amends. would have been cooler if they went towards heberts house and stalker met them halfway through and just told them an excuse that she thought she saw someone. she had enough time for her scheme. at that point even if the other two where to be regretful and wanting to do good, taylor wouldnt have cared.
     
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  14. Pez

    Pez Spaceman

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    Sophia abandons her teammates to fight Empire capes alone, and she thinks she's the betrayed one. *Does mental math.* Yeah, that checks out for a psychopath.

    Great chapter, as usual Ack.
     
  15. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Well, Taylor's going to be going quite a while before she actually trusts them.

    (I'd say 'farther than she can throw them', but she can actually throw them quite a distance.)
     
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  16. Therandomestpersons

    Therandomestpersons Reader of things.

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    Yeah, that’s a delusional psychopath who only cares about themselves alright.

    Also, I suspect having to explain this debacle to the PRT is going to be an…experience. Who are hopefully going to be informed of this incident considering the obvious problems that are a thing.
    Like “Hello, one of our teammates apparently decided to try and murder a completely uninvolved civilian in an attempt to frame a different completely uninvolved civilian as a result of a deranged personal agenda. And no, we had no idea she was planning to do this until she was already attempting it.” Isn’t likely to go over well considering all the followup questions that will be asked.
     
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  17. Pez

    Pez Spaceman

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    There's a lot more discussion on SB, because that's more of a Worm stronghold than QQ. It's weird how this is Ack's one story I follow here, while I follow the others there. QQ's the superior of the two anyway, but I digress.

    I doubt this will go to the PRT. It really can't. Taylor would be outed if it did. Now, she might want to risk that if it meant getting the trio in that much trouble, but I doubt she will. I suspect she'd rather keep her anonymity. Emma and Madison would probably end up in prison for intentionally triggering a girl via an unknown substance to pretend she's a villain and throw her in prison while acting like heroes, plus all the other shit they've pulled. Despite their newfound consciences, they don't want to be punished like that.

    Considering Ack's other stories, we'll get something we aren't expecting and find it very satisfying. Based on the title, Taylor is the true hero of this story, so she'll come up with some solution that works for her, and the other two will have to accept. Will depend on the psychopath, though, and what Emma and Mads are willing to give up to appease Taylor.

    My guess is that Taylor will replace Sophia in their little cape group (maybe as leader), since Sophia had to be a hidden member, the public won't notice. That will just unhinge Sophia more, and will ultimately result in her death.
     
  18. Threadmarks: Part Seventeen: Going Forward
    Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Earning Her Stripes

    Part Seventeen: Going Forward

    [A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

    Taylor

    "Wait," said Dad, interrupting the flow of Emma's ongoing … confession, the best word seemed to be. We'd just gotten up to the part where Madison (and boy, was that a surprise) had thrown Emma at the house. "I have a question."

    Emma stopped pacing back and forth—she seemed to have a need to do that—and leaned against the edge of the table. We'd moved into the kitchen by mutual unspoken agreement, and I'd made tea while Emma talked. At some point, Madison had parked the power armour in the back yard (in the form of a big metal box that promptly disguised itself as a small garden shed) and come inside; she was sitting at the end of the table, cradling a cup in her hands.

    "Okay," said Emma. "What do you want to know?" There was no reserve, no guile, left in her.

    "When you three started this amazingly ill-conceived venture," he began, and they both flinched. Neither one protested, though. "It seems to me that you were all on the same page. You were all perfectly happy with forcing these powers in a bottle on Taylor, and having her play the part of the villain in your little masquerade. So how did you get from there to here?"

    Emma frowned. "That's … a tough one. I'd like to say, 'I have no idea what I was thinking', but that would be a lie. I know what I was thinking. It's just … not the way I think now. To be perfectly frank, it's a little scary. I can see now my thinking was all screwed up, but then I thought it was normal. When I first got powers, I legitimately thought I was being a hero, despite what we were intending to do to you. It's like there was a disconnect in my brain. But the more we went on, the harder it was to ignore the wrong in what we wanted to do."

    "Sophia had no trouble at all, though," Madison observed from where she sat. "This isn't any kind of excuse, or a reason, for what we did. I'm just saying that any time Ems or me tried to talk about how maybe it might not be a great idea to pull that shit on you, she jumped all over us and talked us right back into it. And we caved because … I guess we hadn't climbed all the way out of the hole yet."

    "Yeah," sighed Emma. "We weren't quite there when it came time to give you your dose, but we were close. I mean, Madison suggested just talking to you instead of just shoving it down your throat. Offering you the chance to be a member of the Real Thing instead of being our designated villain." She chuckled wryly and shook her head. "Not a hope in hell, right?"

    "Damn right," I agreed. "Even if I'd believed you, I would probably have told you to shove it up your ass and see if you could develop a whole new powerset."

    Madison snorted. "And we would've deserved it. But we let her talk us back around into doing it, like we always did. Mainly out of habit, I guess? By then we were used to bending over backward every time she had one of her little shit-fits, just to keep her happy. Anyway, after Winslow got trashed, Emma and me got to talking and we both decided that we needed to back the fuck off, because you didn't deserve everything we were trying to do to you, much less what we'd already done. Sophia tried to push back, but this time we weren't taking her crap anymore. Ended up with her trying to pull rank as 'leader' of the team, and me and Emma telling her she wasn't. Somewhere around then, we started figuring out exactly how bad we'd been in the past and how, with whatever progress we'd made, Sophia was still back at the starting line."

    "Running hard in the other direction, from what I gathered," Dad interjected.

    Emma grimaced and chuckled at the same time. "I can't argue with that. Anyway, we stopped listening to her, every time she tried to push us on this. But that was also kind of a mistake, because then she stopped listening to us. Which is basically what led us to tonight." She drew a deep breath. "But what really scares me is that I used to think like that, and I thought it was normal. And I really don't know why I changed. So, there's a chance I might go back to thinking that way, and not even care."

    Madison put her cup down and scrubbed her hands over her face. "Fuck, yeah. That is terrifying."

    A helicopter flew overhead; not directly over the top of the house, but not too far away, either. We could see the reflected glow of its floodlight through the windows. As one, we looked up, but the chopper kept going.

    "Okay, so you have no idea how you went from psychotic to normal in just a few weeks, except that getting powers from a weird vial had something to do with it. Gotcha." I sipped at my own tea. "We can circle back around to that. What I want to know is, what made you go psycho in the first place? Because there weren't any super-powers involved then, that's for damn sure."

    Emma nodded. "Actually, in a bizarre way, there were. Sophia was already Shadow Stalker back then. Dad and me … well, remember when you were at summer camp and you and I got cut off on that phone call? We got attacked by some ABB assholes, looking to initiate one of them. The idea was that she'd cut up my face some, maybe take out my eye or my ears, or whatever made them feel like real gangsters." She paused. "Huh. Used to be, I couldn't even think about that night without shrivelling up inside, but now it doesn't bother me. Anyway, Sophia was watching while they were talking about what they were gonna do, but it was only after I shoved one of them that she came in and kicked their asses."

    "She just watched?" asked Dad. "I thought this was back before she went crazy."

    "She always was crazy," Madison said suddenly. "But it's a sneaky kind of crazy. Really good at hiding. What Emma went through broke her. I can see that now. Sophia came along and put her back together, but wrongly. Infected her with the crazy. She needed validation. I can see that, too. Sophia always needed the validation. It's probably why she's driven to win. She can't stand being seen to lose."

    "And what about you?" I asked Madison. "What broke you?"

    "Nothing." Madison shook her head regretfully. "I was just weak, I guess. I had Sophia's need for validation, but without the aggressive streak. Emma and Sophia, they formed this little two-person cult at school, and I basically joined it. Started drinking the Kool-Aid by the gallon. I was so desperate to belong that I didn't care who the target was, so long as it wasn't me." She looked up at me. "I am so damn sorry for everything I did, every last hurtful thing I said. I don't even have the excuse Emma's got. It didn't take an ABB asshole holding a knife to my face to turn me into a psycho. I got there all by myself."

    "Yeah, you did." I kept sipping my tea, looking at her. The expressions on her face and Emma's continued to intrigue me. I'd seen them happy, vindictive, and gleeful. Guilt and regret were new looks for them. "The question for me is—"

    "We're going to have to shelve that for the time being." Dad was standing now, looking through the doorway into the living room. The helicopter was back, and its floodlight was now shining in through the windows. "In about one minute, we're going to have the police in here, asking all sorts of awkward questions. Taylor, do you want Emma and Madison outed and arrested, yes or no?"

    The temptation was very strong to say yes. A month ago—hell, a week ago—I would've said yes. But their actions in the last hour had pulled such a massive one-eighty on everything that had gone before—saving Dad and the entire confession—that I had to hesitate.

    "Not yet," I said firmly. "Costume up. We're gonna tell it like it is, except that you've got no idea why Shadow Stalker came after Dad." I would've said more, but red and blue flashing lights were now visible on the road outside. "Go!"

    Madison was out the back door like a sprinter. I watched as she got to the 'garden shed'; it dismissed its disguise, then unfolded to allow her access. Emma just took up her helmet and pulled it on, vanishing behind the façade of Firebird once more. She gave me a puzzled look as she fastened the chin-strap. "After what we did to you, I can't see how you can—"

    "—forgive you?" I shook my head. "I haven't, and I probably never will." There was a sharp knocking at the front door; Dad went to answer it. "This conversation is on hold until later."

    <><>​

    Danny

    The police were relatively easy to deal with. He'd done it before on occasion, usually to do with rambunctious members of the Dockworkers' Association. Presenting them with a nice simple narrative, speaking plainly and politely, and showing respect tended to work. They were concerned over the dressing on his neck, but the moment he mentioned that it had been inflicted by a parahuman, he could see the light go out of their eyes.

    The police hated parahuman crime, there was no doubt about that. Master and Stranger abilities put the most ineptly written locked-room mysteries to shame, and that was before Breaker and Mover powers got in on the act. But they hated even more the fact that parahuman criminals, once identified as such, were strictly the jurisdiction of the PRT. No ifs, buts, or maybes.

    So, once it was determined that the third member of the Real Thing had apparently gone insane and attempted to murder him in his sleep, they did everything but throw their arms up and leave the room. There were no arrests to be made here, no promotions to be had. Still, they followed due diligence and recorded the trail of destruction left by Emma as she smashed her way through Taylor's bedroom window and two separate doors. They also interviewed him about the incident, as comprehensively as they could.

    No, he said, I have never met Shadow Stalker. I can't think of any rational explanation she might have for attacking me in my own house.

    She wasn't let in. From what I can understand, she can walk through walls.

    I watched her leave the same way.

    I've never met the Real Thing before either. They said they thought something was wrong with her, and followed the tracking app on her phone.

    She's apparently disabled or deleted the app since then. Besides, they wanted to make sure I was okay, and that she didn't circle around and come back for another attempt.

    Yes, this cut was indeed inflicted by Shadow Stalker. She shot an arrow at me. Fortunately, Firebird broke the crossbow so the arrow didn't hit me with full force.

    No, I don't want to press charges on Firebird for the damage to the house. My insurance might cover it. I'll have to check.

    We didn't call 9-1-1 because I was shaken and my daughter was busy dressing the wound. Besides, we saw the helicopter and knew you'd show up eventually.

    No, you'll have to ask the Real Thing about Shadow Stalker's secret identity. They never told me.


    <><>​

    Taylor

    Dad was sitting on a chair in the living room while a paramedic checked the cut on his neck and applied a fresh dressing, when we saw the new flashing lights against the window. These ones were green and white, which meant the PRT was on site. I saw the officer who had been trying to interview Dad (and getting the same answers over and over) shrug and put his notebook away.

    Radios crackled, letting everyone know that the big boys had arrived and it was now time to vacate the premises. The general attitude of those leaving the house varied between 'not our problem anymore' to 'why do they have to keep sticking their noses in, anyway', but I didn't give a damn either way.

    I'd answered all the questions I could early on, more or less the same way Dad had; truthful, but uninformative. Unless I missed my guess, they suspected we knew more than we were letting on, but so long as we all stuck to the same story, they had nothing. And of course, given that the PRT had jurisdiction, they couldn't threaten to drag us down to the station and sweat it out of us.

    As the police vehicles pulled out, along with the paramedics, the first PRT troopers entered the house. Emma came with them, still in costume as Firebird. Madison, piloting the Blockade suit, stayed outside; nobody wanted to find out the hard way that the floorboards wouldn't take the weight of her suit. However, one other cape accompanied them: Armsmaster.

    Before I got my powers, I would've been overawed by this moment. Despite being a Tinker, Armsmaster was one of the more visible members of the Brockton Bay Protectorate. He was known for patrolling solo on his Tinker-enhanced motorcycle, and his halberd was reputedly packed with more optional extras than the most ridiculously cinematic Hollywood spy's car.

    But now, it seemed, I was setting a much higher bar for anything to impress me. Madison, in her Blockade armour, could fly halfway across town in a single jump. Emma, my best-friend-turned-worst-enemy-turned-I-had-no-idea-what had powers of her own that made her into an action movie star. Even Sophia Hess, whom I had merely thought was an overly violent jock with a fixation on Emma, was actually Shadow Stalker, an edgelord villain with delusions of heroism. Oh, and I had powers too, courtesy of a Stupid Supervillain Plot™ hatched up by the three aforementioned.

    Or to put it another way, in just one week my life had gone from being normal-ish (with a dash of bullying) to something that even the most avid producer of Saturday morning kids' shows would reject as being too far-fetched. (And, just saying, these were the same people who had brought to our screens the immortal Li'l Mousey's Time Travel Adventures with Li'l Armsy and Ug-Ug the Caveman Cape Kid).

    (Immortal as in, as much as you tried, you could not forget that you'd actually watched it).

    "Mr Hebert, Miss Hebert," Armsmaster began, breaking into my train of thought. "The police will be turning their findings over to us in short order, so we shouldn't be here too long. What we really need is to verify what Firebird and Blockade have already told us."

    Dad and I waited for a moment, but he'd finished talking. Fortunately, we both had a good idea of what Firebird had told them, or at least the bare bones of it. Also, given that most (if not all) of it was the truth, we didn't have to pick and choose details.

    I took a deep breath. "Well, what happened to me is that I got woken up by a loud noise over the house and a huge crash as Firebird came in through my window and out through the bedroom door. Honestly, I thought a meteor had hit the house or something." That much was actually true. "I got up and went to see what was going on, and in Dad's bedroom, Shadow Stalker was fighting with Firebird and Dad was near the door. Firebird shouted for me to get Dad out of the room, then Shadow Stalker tried to shoot him with her crossbow, but Firebird hit the crossbow and broke it, so the arrow only cut him a little bit. Then I got him to the bathroom, where we keep the first aid kit. Firebird came and found us, and said that Shadow Stalker had made a bolt for it. Then they stayed around until the police came."

    Dad nodded. "That's more or less the same as happened to me, except I woke up to a maniac in a black costume trying to stab me with my own damn kitchen knife. Then Firebird hit the house like a bomb and got between me and Shadow Stalker. Saved my life."

    Armsmaster turned toward Emma. "You don't have any Mover powers, do you?"

    Emma shook her head. "No, just acrobatics and all the skills. Why?"

    "The aerial insertion." Armsmaster shook his head. "You took a risk there. Ninety-nine out of a hundred people would've gotten broken bones out of that."

    "As I said," Emma repeated, "all the skills." She folded her arms. "Go ahead, ask me the question you really want to ask."

    Armsmaster nodded to acknowledge this. "Shadow Stalker. Do you have any idea why she would've gone off the rails so badly, and why she targeted Mr Hebert of all people?"

    "That's definitely a problem, yes," she said, both truthfully and misleadingly. "When she first approached Blockade and me, back before we were a team, we were kind of dubious. But it worked. We did a lot of good."

    "That's true," he agreed. "Your takedown of the Merchants was impressive for a newcomer team, and tonight's takedown of Cricket and Stormtiger was good too."

    "Thanks." She put her thumb to her lips and chewed the nail pensively. "But after that … it began to feel like we were starting to lose touch with her. We had more arguments, especially about how we were going to be doing things, who was actually the team leader, stuff like that. Blockade and me … we didn't know how to handle it. I thought maybe we could talk it out."

    I just stood there silently, trying not to show anything more than polite interest. I'd known Emma could spin a line of bullshit, especially whenever I tried to complain about her latest asshole stunt with me, but this was masterclass fuckery, right there. Every word fitted in with the explanation she and Madison had given us, but the way she phrased it made it sound totally different from reality.

    "I know how that can go, yes." Armsmaster was evidently buying the explanation wholesale. "So, what do you think caused her to fixate on Mr Hebert as a victim?"

    "That's something we're going to have to ask her, when we catch her," Emma said with finality. "Though to be totally honest, with the way she's been going, you might not get anything resembling a straight answer."

    "That's also a distinct possibility." Armsmaster made no sign of writing anything down—he was probably recording everything via his helmet's electronics—he switched to another topic. "One more thing. Shadow Stalker, no matter her previous good works, tried to murder an innocent tonight. I'm going to need you to give us her secret identity, so we can catch her before she succeeds in murdering someone else."

    Emma's lips tightened. "I'd really rather not do that, for several reasons. Blockade and I are uniquely equipped to capture her and keep her captured, and that's just what we intend to do."

    Armsmaster's tone became slightly harsher. "Firebird, I wasn't asking. Withholding basic identifying information such as her real name risks you being charged with obstruction of justice."

    "I know you weren't," Emma replied tightly. "But hear me out. First, how did you intend to contain her? So far, the only thing I know of that stops her is 'good steel', a type of metal produced only by Blockade. Second, Blockade and I are socially connected to Shadow Stalker's civilian identity. Handing over her real name essentially outs us to you with a simple computer search. I'm not willing to go there. Third, even as a hero she was vindictive and more than a little bloodthirsty. If she finds out that we outed her, she's likely to go to our homes and get revenge on our families, and I'm absolutely not willing to risk that."

    "We can take them into protective custody—" began Armsmaster, but Emma cut him off with a horizontal chop of her hand through the air.

    "What part of 'she walks through walls' did you not get? She's still got one crossbow, God knows how many arrow stashes, and a vindictive personality. She even tried killing me before she left. Whatever kind of hero she used to be, if she ever was one, she's not one now."

    "Do you think she'll make another attempt on Mr Hebert's life?" Armsmaster seemed to have forgotten that Danny was sitting right there.

    Emma shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe, maybe not. She might decide that someone else is a more worthy sacrifice, or whatever twisted rationalisation is going through her mind. Blockade and I are going to be sticking close to the Heberts for the moment anyway, in case she does come back."

    "Understood." Armsmaster didn't look or sound thrilled. "I'm going to repeat myself regarding her civilian identity. It would be far easier for the PRT to apprehend her if we knew who she is and where she lives."

    "And I'm going to say this again." Emma spoke flatly. "You are not legally allowed to coerce me into unmasking if I haven't been charged with a crime, and handing over Shadow Stalker's would essentially out me as a matter of course. So, I refuse. With all due respect, of course."

    "If we charged you with obstruction for not outing Shadow Stalker, we could unmask you legally, and thus uncover Shadow Stalker's secret identity in the same way," Armsmaster pointed out.

    Dad cleared his throat, then winced. "I have friends in the media," he said. "I'm sure Director Piggot would absolutely love to see in tomorrow's headlines that the PRT and Protectorate are deliberately setting out to unmask a teen hero group as a power move. That would go down so well with your public relations department. I'm pretty sure we'd be able to hear the veins popping from here."

    I could hear the restrained surprise in Emma's voice. "Ahh … thank you."

    Dad tilted one shoulder, carefully. "Well, you did save my life back there."

    Armsmaster's lips thinned to the point that they almost vanished. "Very well. Thank you for your assistance. And when we catch Shadow Stalker, we will be unmasking her."

    "Oh, I get that," Emma agreed. "But the difference is, we won't have."

    Abruptly, Armsmaster turned and left the house, his heavy footsteps making me wonder if he might yet pull a potential Blockade and fall through to the basement anyway. But he made it out of the house without catastrophe, along with the PRT troopers. I went to the door and swung it shut behind the last of them, then came back into the living room and collapsed onto the couch.

    "Uggghhh," I groaned. "My life was much simpler before you force-fed me that damned vial."

    "Sorry," Emma said almost reflexively, and I gave her a medium glare.

    "Saying sorry isn't worth much," Dad added. "It's better to actually show you're sorry. Do something to prove it. Help fix matters. Also, tell your parents. Does Alan know yet, or Zoe?"

    Emma shook her head. "No, and no. It … well, it's never really been the right time."

    I sat up on the couch. "Well, it's the right damn time as of here and now. You and Madison need to break it to them. Tell them everything."

    Up until now, Emma had been taking the strain pretty well, but I saw the colour drain from her cheeks with that one. "Shit," she whispered. "Dad would have a heart attack. And an aneurysm. Mom would ground me until I was seventy."

    I raised my eyebrows. "And you think you don't deserve all that?"

    Emma took a deep breath. "You're right. We do. We'll do that … but we still need to catch Sophia before she does something even more stupid than she has so far."

    "I'll help." I stood up. "Funny, that's the one thing that we haven't touched on so far. I did get powers out of that vial. Some pretty damn special ones." Holding up my hand, I clenched my fist and covered it with a white protective layer, then let stripes run up and down it. "And I personally think I owe Sophia a kick in the teeth or two."

    "Uh …" Emma looked dubious. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

    I gave her a side-eye. "Remember Winslow? That was me."

    Emma blinked. "Shit. Okay, then. You actually have useful powers then. We were wondering. So, how's this going to go? You're actually okay with a team-up?"

    I snorted in derision. "Hardly. You two idiots will be my sidekicks. And once Sophia's in the bag … then, we'll see."

    Slowly, Emma nodded. "Fair."



    End of Part Seventeen
     
  19. Enochi

    Enochi Having way to much fun with AI.

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    Great Chapter always love redemption stories especially with Emma.

    Reply from another forum thread but its a conversation topic I find interesting.

    I kinda thought about it like this. I wonder if Kaiser actually DIDN'T want to lead the empire. I mean when you think about it. The empire cost him his Father, Sister, First Wife and basically his son. A theory I have had is this. By the time of Worm Kaiser wanted OUT. He has a successful business, a disconnected son, and no real reason to stay in the game. I think his offer to let Purity lead was genuine. Maybe at one point he planned on converting the E88 from within or something. But it was too entrenched and would cost too much for him to do so. And like Purity he still saw most of them as friends so he wouldn't really want to hurt them as well. I think Allfather had groomed Iron Rain for leading the Empire and Max for Medhall which Max was fine with. When Iron Rain died then Max had to do both. Now though Heith is dead Purity has left him (Though they seem to be on good terms still). He hasn't tried to force anything on Theo either. I'm thinking He was planning on retiring as Kaiser and trying to reconnect with Theo.

    Theo doesn't like his Dad and its understandable but I think a lot of the negative picture he has of him is due to the fact he sees him as responsible for his Mom's death. Kaiser might blame himself too.

    Sure alot of it is Theoretical but I think it makes since.

    Especially since we are TOLD a lot of the bad things the empire does but aside from the Dog-fighting ring we are never really shown anything.
     
  20. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Kaiser is an arsehole to his son. He's very controlling, which is why the Empire apparently has a relatively high turnover with capes.

    Kayden was with Max for ten years, then decided she wanted out of the Empire, partly because of his controlling ways, partly because of the crime endemic with the gang.

    Hookwolf is a member in good standing, and he's been captured at least three times and sentenced to the Birdcage. Canary aside, they don't hand out tickets to that place for minor shit. Kaiser has a Birdcage bound felon as one of his lieutenants.

    Now, you can do an AU for all of what you said above, but it's not canon and can't be really shoehorned into canon.
     
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  21. Enochi

    Enochi Having way to much fun with AI.

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    When was Kaiser an arsehole to his son? Where does it mention that he caused the high turnover? I have tried to read every mention of him and as he has no POV chapters everything comes from Kayden and Theos chapters. Hookwolf is birdcage bound but we don't know for what could be that he was just past his 3 strikes like Uber and Leet feared for themselves.
     
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  22. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    So yeah, Max Anders is a dominating, controlling, manipulative asshole. As well as being a hypocrite who doesn't believe in the Nazi cause but is entirely willing to wave the flag for others to follow, all in the name of power.

    As for Hookwolf:

     
  23. Enochi

    Enochi Having way to much fun with AI.

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    Interesting how people can see things differently. I looked at that and saw Kayden being paranoid projecting her fear of Max being a liar (Because he didn't really believe in the cause after converting her) into everything. Largely due to Worm have big Unreliable Narrator vibes but each interpretation could be accurate.

    I did miss that line on Hookwolf however. If you wanted to make him into the 'Noble Savage' archetype you could make those homicides from his cage matches without directly contradicting canon, but it does mean it's not likely the three-strike rule.
     
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  24. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Canonically, he murdered someone (after becoming a cape) who was on the Empire's hate list, while in BB or nearby, and they invited him to join. He did so for the protection.

    Once again, you could play it that way but it would not mesh with canon.
     
    JohnWolfie34 and Kaiserfrost like this.
  25. TheMidnightRook

    TheMidnightRook Well worn.

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    Worm might have Unreliable Narrator vibes, but the actual plot has the narration being completely reliable (outside of Master/Stranger fuckery... or Wildbow retconning stuff)
     
    TitaniumQuartz971, Tank man and Ack like this.
  26. Avernus

    Avernus Making the rounds.

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    I think that Kaiser should have wanted out of the E88 but didn't, because by the time canon rolled around he'd spent decades convincing himself that associating with a violent gang and unstable murderous capes was a good idea. Cutting off ties with the E88 - even if he could do so and not get killed, which is uncertain - would mean giving up a lot of power, and he was clearly the sort who wanted power badly enough to willfully ignore the baggage that came with it.

    He was basically trapped - by his own ambition more than anything else - into a relationship with the E88 that had an excellent chance of bringing him down one way or the other in the long run (and does so in many fics, including some of Ack's). But somebody like him would never admit that, even to himself. He's Smart. He's In Control. He certainly hasn't let short sighted greed and ambition bind him to a mob of barely controllable criminal capes and thugs...at least, inside his own head he hasn't.
     
  27. Threadmarks: Part Eighteen: Communications
    Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Earning Her Stripes

    Part Eighteen: Communications

    [A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]


    Taylor

    I dusted my hands off. "Okay, first things first. We have to locate Sophia right the fuck now. As it is, she's a danger to Dad, and I'm not gonna let that shit stand. Also, Dad, I'm thinking you're going to have to go to a motel or something for the next few days."

    Dad nudged me. "Can I make a suggestion?"

    "Absolutely." I was good for any and all suggestions right then. As boldly as I'd grabbed for command, it wasn't exactly something I had much—or any—experience in.

    "Sophia's a danger to more than just me." He paused, waiting for me to get it, then went on when I gave him a confused look. "As far as she's concerned, Emma and Madison just turned on her. She might just go after them in retaliation. Emma, you and Madison need to call your parents now, explain as much as you need to, and tell them to get out. Does Madison have any sisters or brothers?"

    "No," Emma replied. I knew that her sister Anne was attending college in Boston, so she'd be safe at least. Pulling her phone out of a pouch on her belt, Emma paused. "What should we tell them?"

    "Whatever will get them out of harm's way as quickly as possible," Dad said grimly. "We should really have done this before we opened the door for the police."

    I nodded. "Right." He had a really good point. "Emma? You'd better make those calls now."

    <><>​

    Shadow Stalker

    It should have worked.

    It should have worked.

    It should have worked.


    Sophia would've been muttering to herself, but she was spending more time in shadow form than otherwise, and speaking was impossible in that state. As it was, she gritted her teeth (when she had them) and clenched her fists (when they were able to be clenched). She was pissed off to a degree that she'd rarely reached before, and it was all down to Hebert, Emma and Madison.

    The plan had been perfect. With Hebert's father dead, the bloody knife under her bed would've made it an open and shut case, especially once the cops found her prints on it. Hebert would've either wimped out and let them arrest her like the dweeb she was, or she would've put up a fight. And that was when the heroes (being her, Emma and Madison) could swoop in and take her down. Winslow plan, version two point oh.

    But Emma and Madison … Sophia didn't even know what was going on there. They'd been down for fucking over Hebert … hadn't they? Oh, sure, there'd been that bullshit over stepping back for a bit, but that was surely about Emma flexing once she'd yanked the top spot out from under Sophia. They had no reason for going soft on Hebert. If there was one, Sophia would've known about it. She was perceptive like that.

    She paused on a rooftop to catch her breath and regain her bearings. There was no roar in the sky to show that Madison was airborne again, and Emma's armour pieces caught the light from various angles, so she couldn't be as sneaky as Sophia.

    Still, they had figured out where she was going, and gotten there pretty quickly. That had to be Emma's doing; as far as Sophia knew, Madison didn't even know where Hebert lived. But how the fuck did they figure out where I was?

    Sophia was not a tech person. She could use a radio and a phone, but the ins and outs of them were a mystery to her. Press the button; it does the job.

    But she did know enough to be aware that radios and phones alike could be used to track a person's location. In fact, phones had to do it so they knew which cell towers to link up to and shit. And radios … well, tracking bugs basically were radios, right?

    Dropping down into an alleyway between the houses, Sophia took out her radio and turned it all the way off, then removed the batteries and dropped it on the concrete. Next, she pulled out her phone and peered at it. She wasn't sure how to get the batteries out of it, so she dropped it on the ground and stomped on it a few times. The screen cracked across and she stomped again, satisfied that she'd dealt with the electronic snitch.

    Leaping to the rooftop again, she continued across the rooftops, trying to figure out where to go and what to do. While she'd get Hebert eventually, first she had to deal with her traitorous ex-teammates. Whatever bug had gotten up Emma's ass about Hebert—it had to be Emma, because Madison barely said a word that the other two didn't approve of first—Sophia had to stomp on, and hard.

    There was going to have to be a meeting of minds, and by that Sophia meant a solid beatdown. Emma and Madison had totally lost their way when it came to The Real Thing's purpose, and it was up to her to kick their asses until they figured out where they'd gone wrong. But Emma's kung-fu power bullshit and Madison's good-steel bullshit made that far too hard, so they were going to have to come to her, on her terms.

    Of course, if she found out that they'd outed her to the cops or the PRT, then someone was going to have to die. What they'd done was bad enough, but that sort of betrayal was totally unforgivable.

    Not for an instant did it cross her mind that her avowed intention of ruining Taylor Hebert's life purely because she'd decided Hebert needed to stay down in the dirt was in any way an unacceptable course of action. Even if it had, she wouldn't have cared. Sophia Hess did what Sophia Hess wanted to do, and if that happened to screw over Hebert's pissy little existence, then it sucked to be her.

    Okay, so do I grab Emma's parents or Madison's? The best way to get Emma and Madison to come to her—and accept what was coming to them—was to grab people they cared for. That way, they were less likely to try to pull some bullshit stunt, when all she really wanted to do was show them where the fuck they were going wrong.

    Once she started considering the question, the answer was simple. She'd never met Madison's parents and had never been inside their home. The Barneses, on the other hand, she absolutely had met, and she even knew where their master bedroom was. One downside, of course, was that Alan Barnes knew who she was under the mask.

    With a little thought, she decided that wasn't so much of a problem as it could've been. Emma's dad knew exactly what she was capable of, and would make sure his wife didn't try anything stupid. And afterward, once she'd brought Emma and Madison back into line, Emma herself would convince them not to say a damn thing to anyone. As far as Sophia was concerned, snitches got a hell of a lot more than stitches.

    If she was right, Emma's house was in … that general direction. Running to the edge of the roof, she turned to shadow and glided across the gap to the next house.

    It was all going to work out the way she wanted. She was going to make absolutely damned certain of it.

    <><>​

    Alan Barnes

    As far as Alan was concerned, Sunday evenings were best occupied by reviewing his notes for the cases he was going to be addressing on Monday, and adding any insights that had come to him over the weekend. Zoe, used to this practice, had watched some TV then gone to bed. Emma had eaten supper and retired even earlier than normal, mentioning something about studying for her entry exam into Arcadia.

    He had to admit, he was pleasantly surprised by the change that had come over Emma in the last few months. She was more energetic, her academic marks had taken a distinct jump from the previous school year, and she'd actually spent more than a few afternoons discussing the socio-political situation of Brockton Bay with him. If he had to describe it in a nutshell, he would've said his little girl was maturing into a fine adult.

    Which was why he frowned when his phone buzzed at his elbow and he saw that it was her number. The house wasn't all that big; what did she have to call him for that she couldn't just walk downstairs and tap on his study door? Oh, well. Let's see what this is about. Rolling his eyes, he picked up the mobile and swiped the icon to answer. "What's the matter? Couldn't sleep?"

    "Dad." The grim note in her voice shook him to his heels. Emma had never spoken like that in his hearing. "You need to listen to me and do exactly what I say. Do you understand?"

    "I … no, I don't understand." Alan shook his head. What's Emma playing at? "What's going on?"

    She took a deep breath. "Dad, there will be time for questions later. You need to get Mom now and leave the house. Go to a motel or something. You're in mortal danger if you stay in the house."

    "Leave the house? Why? What are you talking about?" Emma wasn't making sense. Besides, she was in the house, too. "What do you mean, mortal danger? And what about you? Don't you need to leave too? Why are you calling me like this?"

    "Jesus Christ, Dad, can't you switch off the lawyer for once and just listen? I'm not in the house. I'm a superhero. Firebird, from the Real Thing. Shadow Stalker has … she's gone nuts. She might be targeting you, so you need to get Mom now and get out of the fucking house before she gets there!"

    Emma ended with a shout, forcing Alan to hold his phone away from his ear. He was still having trouble correlating his peaceful surroundings with the grim, forceful tone that his daughter was using. Besides, Shadow Stalker was a hero. She'd saved him and Emma, after all. He'd been reading about the team she'd joined, and thought they were doing a lot of good. "Emma, if this is some kind of weird prank …"

    "It's not a prank, Dad. I really am Firebird. Sophia Hess was my teammate, but she … look, I'll explain everything afterward, but the bottom line is, she already tried to murder Taylor's dad tonight, and we think you might be next on her list. So, I need you to get Mom and leave the house right the fuck now. Please, just do what I say. You can ground me forever afterward."

    The intensity in Emma's voice was getting through to him. Wait, she tried to murder Danny? That was a step-up in the story, one he wouldn't really expect from a prank. In any case, there was a simple way to check on this. Standing up, he left the study and headed for the stairs. If Emma was still in her bedroom, giggling over the prank she was playing on her dear old gullible dad, he would absolutely ground her forever. But if she wasn't …

    "Okay, I'm going upstairs now. Are you really Firebird?" He could kind of see it, especially with the red hair and the fact that Sophia was a known member of the Real Thing, but her other best friend was Madison, and he was pretty sure Blockade was a guy. "And who's Blockade, anyway? A boyfriend I don't know about?" If she was trying to pull a fast one, there would be an indignant squawk in three … two … one …

    No squawk came. "Dad, you need to hurry up. Blockade's Madison if you really have to know, but that's not important. We don't know how far Sophia is away from the house, and we really don't know what she'll do once she gets there."

    Madison? Blockade was Madison? Okay, now he was starting to swing back toward this whole thing being a prank, even though she hadn't given him the expected reaction. Madison was petite and cutesy and sweet, and was about as far removed from his idea of someone who got around in a set of chunky, blocky power armour as he could imagine.

    Drawing in a breath preparatory to denounce Emma, he reached her bedroom door and yanked it open. It was dark inside, without even the tell-tale glow of a phone screen to break the gloom. But Emma lay in bed, apparently asleep. "Nice try," he said, and flicked the light on.

    It wasn't Emma. In the dark it had looked like her, but with illumination came the discovery of carefully piled pillows under deceptively arranged covers. A flutter of movement caught his eye, and he turned his head to see that one of her windows was open a couple of inches, the breeze from outside stirring the curtain.

    "Now do you believe me?" demanded Emma. "Now get Mom and get out of there!"

    Alan stared at the pillow dummy for far too long as he tried to equate that with what he'd thought to be true. His thoughts, jolted into staccato motion, lurched through the inevitable chain of logic until it reached the inevitable end.

    Emma's not here.

    She snuck out.

    She's actually Firebird.

    This isn't a prank.

    Shadow Stalker is coming here to hurt us.

    Fuck.


    Leaving the door open and the light on, he spun on his heel and hustled along the corridor to his bedroom. With any luck, Zoe would still be awake. "Okay, I get it," he said rapidly into the phone. "I'll call you once we're clear."

    "Good. Just hurry. Please." She ended the call, and he slid the phone into his pocket.

    He wasn't thinking in terms of a prank anymore. Even though he knew it was technically possible that she'd snuck out specifically to make the phone call, such an action didn't jibe with her recent uptick in maturity. She was both smart and responsible, and had to know it would invite repercussions out of all proportion to any benefit she'd get out of it.

    When he opened the bedroom door, the reading-lamp was on; Zoe, leaning back on her pillows, had a romance novel open in front of her. She looked up as he burst into the room, a look of surprise crossing her face.

    "Alan?" she asked. "What's the matter, dear?"

    "Get up." He headed around to his side of the bed, where he kept his wallet and keys … and a small automatic pistol, one that he hadn't touched in months. He'd bought it in the aftermath of the horrific episode with Emma and the ABB, but he'd never even had occasion to point it at someone, much less fire it. "We have to go. Now."

    She stared at him in confusion, which rapidly mutated into alarm as he produced the firearm as well as the other items. "Alan? What are you doing with that?"

    "Zoe, we're in danger," he snapped, shoving the wallet and keys into his pockets. The pistol, he kept in his hand. "Get up! We have to go now!" How much effect the pistol would have on Shadow Stalker, he wasn't sure. But merely holding it gave him a sense of security he sorely lacked otherwise.

    The repetition seemed to get through to her. She pulled back the covers and climbed out of bed, then patted her clothing down. "I need to get changed …"

    "No time!" He pointed at the door, now fully infected with the urgency Emma had been displaying. "There's someone coming to hurt us! We need to get out of the house, now!"

    She finally did as she was told, only pausing to slide her feet into a pair of fluffy slippers. "Who is it? One of your clients? Someone you got a settlement against?"

    "It's …" He hesitated, even as he led the way out the door. She didn't know Sophia Hess was Shadow Stalker, and explaining that and Emma's role as Firebird and her desperate warning would take far too long. Zoe only knew Sophia as 'that nice friend of Emma's' and had no idea about how violent Shadow Stalker could get on her nightly patrols. "… complicated. I'll explain later."

    "Why don't we call the police? The doors are locked, aren't they?" Halfway down the stairs, she stopped and turned. "Emma!" she called. "Where's Emma?"

    "Emma's safe. Come on," he urged. "The house isn't secure enough. They can get in before the police arrive."

    "But … I don't understand. What do you mean, she's safe? Where is she?" Still, she let him hustle her through into the garage, where he hit the fob to unlock the car doors.

    "I told you, Emma's safe." He could see the questions in her eyes and tried not to shout at her. "Just trust me and get in the car! Please!"

    As Emma's tone had gotten through to him, his seemed to get her attention. "Alright, but I'm going to want to know everything after this, mister." She hurried around the hood of the car and opened the passenger-side door. Climbing in, she closed the door and started putting her seatbelt on.

    Alan closed the door leading into the house, then got into the driver's seat. He hit the garage-door opener, then started the car. While the door was rolling upward, he kept an eye on the mirror as he fastened his own seatbelt. This wasn't easy with the pistol in his hand, so he dropped the firearm in the centre console before he managed to click the tab into place.

    The garage door finished rumbling upward and no shadowy figures had appeared in the opening, so he put the car in reverse and rolled out, down the driveway. A click of the opener had the garage door rolling down again, but he refused to feel safe until he'd backed out on the road and put the car in Drive. Smoothly accelerating off down the road—he loved the feeling of power in the late-model sedan's engine—he took several turns at random before finally pulling over in a quiet side street.

    "Now will you tell me what's going on?" demanded Zoe.

    "In a minute," Alan muttered, pulling his phone out. He knew that cops loved booking motorists for cell-phone infractions—and they really loved booking lawyers for anything at all—so he made sure that the park brake was on, the engine was off, and the keys were out of the ignition before he woke the phone up. Emma's number was at the top of the Recent Calls list, which made it easy. Hitting the button, he waited for the call to go through, the dial tone clearly audible in the silent vehicle.

    "Dad?" It was Emma's voice.

    "It's me, honey." He smiled. "We're out of the house. Safe and sound."

    A hand reached over from the back seat and plucked the phone from his hand. At the same time, a razor-tipped arrow pricked him just behind the line of his jaw. "Oh, I wouldn't say that," purred Sophia Hess.

    <><>​

    Shadow Stalker

    Sophia was a goddamn genius.

    She'd been about to head into the house and confront Alan Barnes directly, along with Zoe, but then she'd had second thoughts. They'd be in their home territory, and she was reasonably sure she'd smelt gun oil on at least one of her visits there, so he probably owned a pistol. The last thing she wanted or needed was to get shot in the back by one of her 'harmless' hostages because she didn't know where he kept the fucking thing.

    No, it was a much better idea to wait for Emma to warn them, then let them drive her away from their nice comfortable well-lit sanctuary. Though whenever she'd seen this in the movies, she'd always scoffed. Who didn't check their back seat footwell when they were in danger? Now she had her answer: everyone, it seemed.

    "Shadow Stalker." Emma's voice had a venom to it that Sophia could almost admire. "Leave my parents out of this. This is between you and me."

    "Pfft, yeah, as if," Sophia scoffed. "If I left you alone, you'd come after me. Or out me. You haven't outed me, have you? Because if you have, you're gonna be down one parent. Trust me on this. I don't deal well with betrayal."

    "No. We told the police and PRT nothing." Emma's tone was flat and harsh. "All they know is that Shadow Stalker tried to kill Danny Hebert, and we don't know why."

    Sophia grimaced. That was bad enough, but it technically didn't count as outing her. It just made her cape identity into a villain. "Okay, fine," she forced herself to say. She could clear her name. In fact—the epiphany burst on her all of a sudden—Emma would even help her. And then they could go back to making Hebert into the villain of the piece.

    "Nothing about this is fine." Emma wasn't giving up on this. "Surrender, and we'll get you the therapy you need. My parents don't need to be any part of this."

    Therapy? Sophia didn't need therapy. She was going to win. "Fuck surrendering." She smiled tightly into the phone. "Meet me near Winslow. Bring Hebert and that useless father of hers. No cops or PRT, or they die. Got it?"

    She was already discarding the original plan of beating sense into Emma and Madison. Well, maybe she'd beat up Madison a bit. Outside her armour, she'd be a pushover. Fighting Emma was a whole different story; she'd never encountered someone as fast and deadly.

    But if she held Alan and Zoe at arrow-point and ordered Emma to kill Danny Hebert while she filmed it …

    Yeah, that'll work. It would turn Hebert against Emma forever, and it would bind Emma and her parents to silence about how the elder Hebert really died. Madison wouldn't dare say anything that might get Emma arrested either. With a little nudging, they'd change their statement to the cops about how Taylor was the real culprit and Sophia was the misunderstood victim in all this.

    And then the Real Thing could be a team again, with her in charge, and with Hebert as the loner psycho villain they could chase down and beat up as many times as they wanted.

    Just the way it should be.

    I am a goddamn genius.



    End of Part Eighteen
     
  28. woodzrox

    woodzrox Not too sore, are you?

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    I-wha-how?! She's a fucking idiot.
     
  29. Enochi

    Enochi Having way to much fun with AI.

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    ....Honestly this Sophia is pretty much to the point of parody now. Is there going to be a reason behind this? Cause their needs to be some sort of reason behind this.
     
  30. Sto Odin

    Sto Odin Only a very distant relation

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    Her plan is sheer elegance in its simplicity!

    I think we can all agree that there's nothing like first-degree murder and threatening family members to show your teammates how to be a real hero.
     
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