Ablation

Taylor

Casing a place is surprisingly easy with my powers. I find a store, go to its alleyway and press my hand against its wall. It gives me a precise mapping of anything solid touching the wall within around 15 feet. It’s not the entire building, but it doesn’t have to be. I can just go around it and brush my hand along every wall. Barring that, the rooftops are always an option. Is a teenage girl wandering around alleyways in downtown a suspicious thing? I never put any thought into looking around before, I doubt others would.

So far, out of the three jewelry stores I cased, all of them are either Empire fronts or are paying protection money to Empire. Which is not really surprising, what else can they do? The fronts, though, need to go. Diamond encrusted swastikas would serve a greater purpose going towards my growing pool of durability and toughness, rather than dangle from a high ranking nazi goon.

Decision made, I go back into an alleyway with no cameras, and get my stuff out of the backpack. The breastplate I already wore under my hoodie, no reason not to do it. The greaves and gauntlets though would attract attention. The cheap jacket I thrifted most likely belonged to some Teeth hopeful who chickened out before they tried to join the gang, if I go by the patches of gore images and slurs I had to scrub out of the jacket. I circle around a couple alleyways towards the store I chose. I dust the back door and go towards the hidden safe. The owner is up front, talking to a skinhead, and none the wiser. The safe gets dusted too, and I start shoving all the money into a backpack. Not MY backpack, just a cheap one I bought for 20 bucks. I wouldn’t want to get recognized by a backpack full of money like a fool. I also take a couple guns and bricks of white powder that were also in the safe, no reason to leave those around and wait for the owner to finish his business behind the door. I have my palm pressed to the wall to keep track of him. And when he rounds a corner, and is about to grab the door knob, I wind up my fist and punch through the pre-softened wood right into his face.

The way he crumples to the floor is satisfying to watch in 3D. I think I broke a bit more than his face but it’s fine. The Empire has Othala. He won’t die, surely. I’ll just… go. I go to the front of the store and dust all glass, along with the sensors that would have sent an alert. I’m not sure if it’s the kind of sensors that send a constant current and the alert sounds when the current is interrupted, or it’s the kind of sensors that send a ping when they’re activated and otherwise are inert. I’m fucked if it’s the former but it won’t take much time for me to dust all the jewelry, just a couple minutes to touch every precious gem. That was an amazing idea. I just have to dust enough diamonds to cover my whole body volume. Meanwhile I just direct their toughness to my vital organs and brain. Those are important.

My business here done, I leave the store from its back door. A perfect crime with a perfect victim. What a great day, I think, my feet leaving the ground, not for the first time this week. I feel a slight pressure from hands grabbing my shoulders as the scenery around us keeps rapidly changing.

My body hits a dumpster and I’m buried in trash. That hit hurt substantially more than the wrecking ball and the smell of trash around me brings some unpleasant memories. Oh hell no! I kick out behind me and hear an impact and another, as the brute hits the brick wall, leaving a person-shaped hole. Since when did the Empire have an Alexandria package? Doesn’t matter. I stand up from my person-shaped hole and dust all the trash touching me. I’ll still have to wash my hair thoroughly. This is the second time an Empire fuck put me in the dumpster, and this time, I won’t take it lying down.

I reach for the manhole cover next to my feet, add a couple tons of durability to it and frisbee throw it into the hole right when the cape was about to get out of it. Wind leaves their lungs as they’re sent through another couple of walls and I follow behind them into the bodega. I catch a glimpse of blonde hair and pale skin. Yep, Empire 100%. I had doubts before, but now I’m sure.

I would apologize to the store owner but I’m kind of a villain here and not even the one who started the fight. I glance towards the path of destruction left by the enemy cape and only see rubble. I don’t have time to glance around as the same manhole cover hits me square in the stomach. Ow, my stomach! At least it’s not a couple tons for me, just the regular 200 pounds. I add a couple more tons and use it like a fan to slap the flying cape with, before she can reach me. I rush to her side while she’s disoriented and grab her from behind. She tries to wrench her arms out of my grip but I change the gauntlets to diamond-tough. My intestines can go without being diamond for a bit.

“Ugh, let go!” I hear a familiar voice. Oh shit!

“Oh shit! You’re Glory Girl?” I voice my thoughts. Damnit! I was so ready to cave in some nazi face. But I can’t do Amy’s sister dirty. I have a study session with her tomorrow, after all!

“Argh! Who else, you asshole?” Rude! “Let me go!” She kicks out and starts flying up. I dust her force field, which surprises her visibly, but she keeps trying to wiggle out of my grip. I make my armor a couple hundred pounds heavier and press her harder into the ground.

“Okay, I didn’t think it’d be you, actually. I expected Empire, since, you know, the store I just trashed was an Empire front and all.” That gives her a pause, but she recovers shortly and keeps thrashing around.

“Like I’d believe you, villain! Tell your excuses to the Protectorate!”

“Oh please, I can show you the literal swastikas in that store. What do you say?” She goes limp after around half a minute of thrashing.

“Okay. Fine.” Great! I lift her up and carry her to the jewelry store. I hold her up like a limp cat as I show her the bookshelf with an honest to god Mein Kampf and dozens of nazi memorabilia, double lightnings and eagles. She stays silent for a bit longer and sighs.

“So, you’re what. A vigilante? You know you still can’t steal even if it’s gang money. This is a legitimate store and needs to be dealt with by legitimate authorities.” She says, much calmer than before.

“Oh, no. I’m a villainous evil villain who evils.” I say, which gets a snort from her. Right, she’s probably used to hearing her sister mumble that. “No, really. I’m about to start my own gang and all. But come on, it’s Empire we’re talking about! You can turn a blind eye to That, can’t you? Pweeease?” I do my best puppy dog eyes, despite them being hidden behind my mask AND Glory Girl facing away from me. Which I rectify quickly, flipping her around, and try again. She’s still limp, but now with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Fine,” she bites out, pouting. She’s genuinely pouting to a villain! “It’s not like I can do anything to you!” Yeah, that’s kind of what happens in straight brute fights, right? The brutier brute wins by default.

“Great! I promise to go easy on you next time,” I tease, releasing her with great reluctance. She’s like a free toughness generator! I gathered so much forcefield toughness just by popping her bubble for five minutes! And she’s great to hold too, like her muscles are sculpted from marble! Very fine craftsmanship, compliments to the chef.

“Like I’d be caught in the same trap again,” she scoffs. “And don’t expect to be let off this easy next time!” She adds, flying up and away from my reach. I’m so good at de-escalating!

Whelp! Time to skedaddle! I scramble away from the alleyway and take a circuitous route towards the docks. When I finally feel like nobody followed me, I change back and go home.

Victoria

“- and then she released me and ran away.” Vicky finished her recounting of the encounter. The Protectorate heroes and Wards in the room listened to her attentively.

“And you let the villain go?” asked Armsmaster. His eyes on the still and blurry image on the villain on the screen.

“What else could I do? She’s tougher than anyone I fought before and her grip could literally pop my force field before I could make any use of it!” Yeah! Being held like an unruly cat was humiliating ! And now there’s photographic evidence floating around PHO!

“You could keep your distance and attack her with thrown weapons.” suggests Armsmaster. Right. NOW they’re suggesting throwing dumpsters at people. When she did that before, all she got was reprimands and public property destruction fines.

“If you missed the video, she can throw stuff too.” said Vicky defensively. “And then I’ll be on the ground again, and I’ll get held like a wet noodle. Again.”

That causes Armsmaster to pinch his visor, before quickly dropping his hand. Did he forget he had his helmet on? “And why did you not call for backup the very moment you were caught in the backfoot? This is why our Wards never patrol alone. Miss Dallon, have you considered joining the program?” And he’s using this situation to press his recruitment pitch! The gall! But she furrows her brows. Indeed, why didn’t she call for backup? Did she want to prove herself the greater brute? She could have at least let the family know that she is engaging an unknown cape. It was stupid of her to rush into the fight with no intel. She didn’t even know the cape was a brute. But her body language, the way she carried herself screamed “nothing could hurt me” and it grated Victoria.

“Okay. I’ll keep that in mind, Armsmaster. But I’m a member of New Wave, I’m not leaving my family behind.”

“Did the villain give you her name?” Asked Aegis, which is a good question.

“Ugh, no. If she told me, I missed it in the heat of battle. But she said she’s planning on starting a gang, so we’ll know soon?” she hedged.

“Hmm. Her power seems to be rather high profile. She might take offense if we give her a nominal name. It is best if we err on the side of caution with her, than be hasty.” Says Director Piggot, “What strategies do we have against her? A matter disintegrator brute is a scary combination.”

“We can safely assume that she is Manton limited or is against killing or maiming heroes, as her encounter with Glory Girl shows. She preferred to end the battle peacefully after proving that she can and will overpower her opposition. We give her a Brute/Striker 7 rating. Do not engage alone, call for backup if possible, do not let her approach you within grappling distance. Attempt disabling attacks that do not rely on physical avenues of restraint. It is unknown if she is resistant to non-physical damage.” He pauses, releasing a soft sigh, “Myself, Assault… and Dauntless would be most efficient at capturing her. Clockblocker, Shadow Stalker or Gallant would be most effective against her powerset if the above-mentioned Protectorate members are not available.” That gets a fist pump from Shadow Stalker and what seems to be silent dismay from Clock. Vista looks visibly offended that she wasn’t mentioned, but Vicky agrees with Armsmaster that, no matter how unaggressive a villain is, they’re still too dangerous to let their littles Ward fight them.

The debrief finally over, Vicky blows a raspberry, sliding down the corridor walls of the PRT building. Armsmaster thanked her for a detailed recounting of the encounter and praised her for getting out relatively unharmed. "The only thing that is harmed is my pride..." she quotes an obscure warcraft viewtube channel video. "At least I can take solace in the fact that she can't fly."

Amy

Brockton City Library is as dreary as always to Amy. She could have spent her evening doing anything else. It’s not even like she’ll go to college or uni. Her fate is to be a healbot full time once she graduates. But she will take any opportunity to spend more time with Vicky. 

Speaking of her. Vicky has been grumpy ever since she came back from her patrol yesterday. Amy tried to ask her what’s the matter, but she has been unusually cagey about it. It wasn’t hard to find out why, though. The videos are trending on PHO. Some new villain curb stomped Vicky in a contest of strength. “Ultimate frisbee gone wrong” says the video, showing Vicky getting smacked by a manhole cover.

Amy sighs depressedly. If only her sister’s force field strength was connected to her muscle strength. She could give her a- NO! No biomodding on your sister, Amy! You have Taylor for that! And speaking of Taylor, Amy squints, remembering the mall. Could Taylor be into blondes? She was suspiciously touchy feely with someone she supposedly met just a couple minutes ago. And the way her gaze lingered on Vicky’s curves. I must protect Vicky! Taylor can’t get her grubby hands on her! Only I- ahem. Amy pushes away her villainous thoughts and focuses on more important matters.

What could she do to protect her sister’s innocence? She taps her index finger to her chin, lost in thought, and is startled when Vicky shouts “Hi Taylor! How are you doing?” Gah! You were literally grumbling the whole way here! What’s gotten into you?

“Oh! Uh, nothing much. Thanks for inviting me,” Taylor mumbles out. She’s hugging her left arm. Amy squints at that. She’s a Brute. Who hurt her? 

“Good, good! I’m doing great! Oh hey, let’s introduce you to the rest of the study group!” Vicky drags Taylor deeper into the library.

Vicky does what Vicky does, Amy can understand Taylor’s bewilderment about being thrown into the middle of a social situation. But she feels no pity towards the girl. That’s what you get for ogling my sister. You can’t handle all that!

But she, in fact, could handle that. She took the introductions in stride and even remembered everyone’s names from the first try. It’s infuriating.

And now she’s keeping up the small talk like a proper functioning member of society! How could you betray me so, Taylor? I thought we were kin! But it is not unexpected to Amy. Of course, someone heroically inclined would be savvy in social-fu. Amy did detect that Taylor’s corona was more active than an average Brute’s. Granted, the only two brutes she knows are both Alexandria packages.

When the conversation dies down and everyone settles into their own subjects, Amy grabs Taylor by the sleeve and motions towards the shelves further inside the library, where no one's around. Taylor follows her without protest, and when they’re finally alone, Amy voices the question she had from the moment they met today.

“Speak. What happened to you?” she says, grabbing her hand. She’s riddled with bruises and her ribcage is full of fractures.

“I… uh. Got into a fight?” Taylor hedges. “I wanted to make myself a costume but uhh… it didn’t work out.”

“Who?” Amy asks, squinting. It is suspicious. Suspicious indeed. Taylor triggers as a brute and a couple days later, Vicky loses a fight to a new brute. If she hurt my precious Vicky, I’ll give her All the Cancer. Thinks Amy evilly.

“It was Trainwreck with a wrecking ball,” Taylor says. Huh, okay. It’s not a lie. “I was in a scrapyard and wasn’t aware that Trainwreck isn’t living in the Trainyards. Like, who would have known anyway? Not me!”

“Alright. Did you win, at least?” Amy asks.

“No. I ran after he threw me around. When he started swinging the wrecking ball, I knew I had no chance.” If she lost to that chump, there is no way she’s the same cape that beat Vicky.

“Right. Well, give me like 10 minutes then,” Amy says, having already healed her injuries and now working on strengthening her bones. She doesn’t have all the materials in Taylor’s body. She’ll have to find a way to slowly feed her titanium particles.

Meanwhile, her mind’s eye wandered over Taylor’s muscles that finally have taken shape after she has eaten enough. I did that. This is my work. Thinks Amy, pride swelling in her chest. And something else she can’t quite put her finger on.

Then, it strikes her. The realisation. She can’t thirst over Vicky if she thirsts over me! She thinks treacherously, evilly. A smile crosses her villainous visage, her dastardly plan already forming in her head as she reaches to loosen the top button of her flannel shirt, eyes still focused on Taylor’s hand. She won’t do anything to Taylor’s brain. She still has her rules. She’s only slightly more villainous now that she biotinkers on a willing but unaware subject. She won’t go off into the deep end by changing her brain. She doesn’t need to.

Amy looks up and feels Taylor’s brain releasing pulses of hormones, the capillaries on her face swelling with higher blood flow. Success! This action won’t have any negative consequences!

Taylor

Is it hot here? Or is it hot here? Amy squeezes my hand. She’s able to, because I shifted all the toughness deeper under my skin not to raise any suspicion from others. I try looking anywhere but Amy, but I don’t need to look at her. Her whole being, in full 3D, inside and out, is mapped thoroughly in my brain. It is involuntary but I can feel her smiling each time her hand squeezes mine and did she just unbutton her shirt?! Oh my god. Kill me now. She can read my biology. She must think I’m a- wait. She smiled and unbuttoned her shit. She’s into me? She’s INTO ME?! 

I look at her with my eyes and her confident smirk falters, but doesn’t fall all the way. “Uhh, do you want to, maybe, hang out on sunday?”

“No.” Instant shut down. Of course, what were you hoping for, Taylor? “Sunday is my shift day at the hospital.” Wait what? She works on a weekend?

“You work on a weekend?” I ask incredulously.

“Well, yeah! Do you know who is free on weekends? Villains,” she says with venom in her voice. I feel slightly guilty at her blanket accusation. “It’s the busiest day for hospitals in the Bay. So no, I’m busy.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry about that,” I say, officially apologizing on behalf of the villain community for ruining Amy’s weekend. She scoffs.

“Forget about it.” she trails off, thinking about it. “I’m free on saturdays, wednesdays and am usually free on fridays. But more often than not I also spend those days in the hospital. So, saturday noon. You, me… uhh Boardwalk.” Fuck! Not saturdays! My game day! Again! Ughhh, sacrifices, sacrifices. I’ll try asking chat if they’re fine with sunday. They’ll understand.

“O- okay! It’s a date then.” I say lamely.

“Sure. I’m done healing you. Make sure to get more iron in your diet… actually, get yourself some gelatin tablets that have titanium dioxide in them,” she adds. What? Why? Is that important? Why do I need that?! “It’s for your toxins. I can’t get them out so might as well try neutralizing them inside you.” Oh. Oh! Okay. That sounds important. Better listen to your doctor, right?

As we walk back to the table, we’re met with conspiratory smirks from everyone there. What’s going on?

“You took an awful long time to do whatever you were doing,” Dennis teases, “What was that about?”

“None of your business, Dennis,” Amy snaps, burying her face in a book. I don’t see how that helps her reading comprehension. Or holding the book upside down.

“I’m just having medical issues,” I explain, saving Amy from the misunderstanding. “Amy has offered to heal me from time to time to mitigate that.”

Dennis deflates hearing that. “Oh… sorry to hear that.” 

“It’s fine, Amy has already figured out a solution. She’s a genius!” I gush, cause she did! All I need is more iron and titanium in my body. Amy hides deeper in her book at my praise, clearly embarrassed by it. Too bad, get ready to get love bombed. Or praise bombed, at least. That seems like a bad phrase, actually. No love bombing the world’s greatest healer, Taylor!

The rest of the study session passes uneventfully. I exchange contact info with everyone and leave the library, my social battery thoroughly spent. It is the first true human interaction I had with a group of people that didn’t have my misery and suffering in their daily agenda. Tomorrow, it is time to properly start a gang.

Chelsea

Chelsea was not having a great day. Not a great day at all. Her little excursion to the greater world on a road trip went tits up just like her beloved suzuki. And, lost in the daze while crawling out of her burning metal coffin, she somehow messed with Accord’s operation. The biggest OCD gremlin hates his operations getting messed with. It’s not her fault the truck tipped over! She was just there in the vicinity when it happened! She was a victim in it, actually!

Chelsea tried telling that to Codex and Cassiterite. She really did. She is, in fact, trying to do that once again. Chelsea was getting so tired. She hasn’t slept for a day or so after finding out that the Thinker psycho developed a grudge at her.

“Listen! Listen! I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding! I literally triggered that day! There was no way for me to premeditate my trigger, right? The truck actually toppled over my car, I’m a victim here just like the truck!”

“We believe that’s what you think. Come with us peacefully and you might even live to see tomorrow.” Codex says diplomatically, her eyes glowing behind her mask. Right, watch out for brain damage with that one. Thinks Chelsea, wincing from a building migraine.

“Regardless of your initial intentions, you have upsetted Accord. That is enough for us to target you. Nothing personal.” adds Cassiterite, black motes of NOPE flying around his head. Chelsea did not know anything about this guy, him being a new recruit. But wasn’t Codex supposed to be a backline cape? What is she doing here?

Chelsea slides back carefully, as another black ninja star shoots at her feet, rapidly growing in size and sharpness as it nears her. Okay. Alright. This is turning out to be an unwinnable situation, but at least the two are hardly cooperating. If Cassie here was more strategic about his shots, he would have aimed to close Chelsea’s avenues of retreat while Codex slowly turned her braindead. Instead, he’s offering her a way to retreat without actively running away.

Chelsea bends down to touch the ground and creates a freezing dome in front of her right as another star shoots at her abdomen. Looking behind her, she blasts her secondary power, turning the entire road slippery. Time to skedaddle! Accord made a mistake not sending a mover after her. Without proper skill or a cheat like her ability, the C-unty duo will struggle to catch up to her on her turf.

She could do the unspeakable and commit a heinous crime by making their assholes zero friction. But she hasn’t fallen that low in her life yet. Maybe if they keep hounding her before she can get out of Boston. Who is she kidding? She has already done that to Citrine. Seriously, what's up with Ambassadors and the letter C? That’s why Accord hasn’t sent anyone he actually values. Though Chelsea does question his decision of sending someone fully dressed in white. She turns back to the fumbling Ambassadors and fires off two thin beams. That should keep them busy.

She skis towards the narrow streets, cautious of any Blasters or just straight up snipers that Accord might have in his employ. Once safe in the dark alleyways, she reaches for her phone.

Fence4th: Srry guys, can’t make it to the games. some probs creepd up. might not make it this week at all :p
Winged_One: I'm fine with that. Np, I got a date on saturday too, was dreading bringing it up and was even about to cancel it.
DopeEffect: Oh? Oh? Deets?!
Slymouth: Aww, don’t sabotage yourself on our behalf! Hoes before bros!
Fence4th: Ew
Winged_One: Just found out that someone is into me, somehow and shot my shot. Also got myself a proper phone so I don’t have to be home to text :p
DopeEffect: Oaoaoaoa! Our resident shut in got herself a bf? Or perhaps, a birlfriend, maybe??
Winged_One: … Matter of fact, what is everybody up to right now?
Slymouth: Nothing, actually. I just go into hibernation in between our games. My life revolves around y’all
MoistOlwlO: I am away from home on some personal business. Also busy on saturday.
Fence4th: Ew, again, go get some air Sly
Fence4th: I’m fyting 4 my lyfe rn, my hours r numbrd

Chelsea chuckles at the phone and shuts it off. It’s only a matter of time till Accord’s cockroaches in his brain finally settle their stuff in order and he comes up with some bullshit rube goldberg machine plan to get her killed.

“Hi there,” she screams and blasts the voice source and turns towards the cape that snuck up to her. A series of loud clangs followed half her costume dropping to the ground with a noticeable thud that betrays their deceptive heaviness. Noted. Don’t get near the sneaky Brute.

“Woah! Woah! Not here to fight you,” the cape lifted her arms in a calming motion, which could mean anything. Was she also a blaster and just taking an aim at her? “In fact, what do you think about joining my gang? Considering that you haven't ran to the Protectorate yet, I suspect you would be more criminally inclined?”

Oh. Ooooh. Okay. Chelsea honestly expected that no other gang would try recruiting her, considering how she got in hot water with the Ambassadors. But she did find herself between a rock and a hard place, which is a prime opportunity for recruitment.

“You are aware that you’d get in Accord’s shitlist if you recruit me, right?” she asks. The cape seems new, considering her cheap costume. Accord would never call it shitlist, of course. It’d probably be something pretentious. But she got the point across.

“I’m sure he won’t mind if we just leave Boston. Or he could keep spending his resources on trying to get us, unsuccessfully. Sunk cost fallacy is a bitch like that.” Woah, that’s a lot of confidence for a newbie. But Chelsea has no leg to stand on this topic, she’s a bigger newbie between them two.

“So, what’s the gang’s name? Its agenda? Is it just “be evil, be gay” or something?” that gets a chuckle out of the cape.

“Yeah I haven’t reached that far down the plan yet. You’re my first recruit, actually.” Wow, I’m in danger. Thinks Chelsea to the cape’s admission.

“Got a name yourself, at least?”

“Oh, right. I'm Durasteal- like the metal from Star Wars./?” Chelsea joins Durasteel in unison, but more as a question than Durasteel’s statement. “Yeah, but with steal as theft, not with steel as metal.” Chelsea nods sagely at that. “How about we get you some new clothes and the hell out of Boston?”

“Oh thank god, let’s” she says, following Durasteal into a car. “You can call me Chillax.”

Taylor

“How about the Dastardly Duo?” pipes up Chillax from the shotgun seat. She removed her ice mask and her costume, revealing a burnt hoodie and jeans underneath. Her thick, curly red hair was set free from its icy prison, framing her green eyes. Yeesh, that doesn’t trigger any knee jerk response at all. It makes sense that she wants to keep a low profile but revealing my face to my nominal teammate so soon seems like such a bad idea. I sigh as I unstrap my mask and put it in the glovebox. Chillax eyes the obvious eagle banner hanging from it.

“Soooooo. Is your gang like some Empire offshit? I mean offshit. I mean… you got me. If so, I might have you shit yourself and then jump out the car,” she warns. At least we got that out of the way. If the pale redhead I just recruited turned out to be a nazi, I’d be so embarrassed. 

The car belonged to some Empire goon. Going to Winslow came with some rather useful skills, and whatever I lacked I supplied with ViewTube video tutorials. Not needing keys to open doors is such a handy side benefit of my powers.

Chillax was trending in PHO as an unfortunate girl who somehow angered the Ambassadors and was on a run from them. She seemed like a prime target for recruitment. And I’d rather have a shaker/blaster on my team than against me. Now, if only she wasn’t a redhead.

“Uh, no. I stole it from an Empire gang member. It’s a gang of nazis in Brockton Bay.” I explain. I see her sag into her seat, finally relaxing. Eyes on the road, Taylor. Eyes on the road.

“Oh thank god. So that’s where we going?”

“Yeah, if you’re fine with that?” I raise my eyebrow.

“Oh, just peachy. I was going there to begin with, ya know? Just to meet up with some online friends. Planned out a whole surprise reveal by taking a selfie at their glowing Protectorate hq or something.”

I remember her first question. “Huh. I’m not gonna stop at two capes, by the way.”

“The Treacherous Trio!”

“And when we get more members, eventually? Let’s avoid numbers from the gang name as a rule of thumb.” I fight the smile that’s creeping up my face. Those are such stupid names. I’d love to have them but I’m going for a serious gang here! With serious big boy business!

“Okay, well. I’m sure you’ll figure out a proper name by the time we debut or the merciless internet will do it for you. Dibs on being your first lieutenant though. You did recruit me first, I ain’t giving that spot up.”

“I’m fine with that. You’ll have to deal with anyone wishing for that position yourself though.”

“Sure.” she finally shuts up, kicking her feet and tapping her fingers on the dashboard. “Sooo, what’s the benefit package? Do we get dental?” I chuckle at that.

“Sure, I can cover your dental. I can also make you a minor Brute, that’s kind of an ace in my recruitment pitch. Ever wanted to be as tough as steel?”

That gets her thinking. “Uh. Usually, power granting abilities come with some side effects, don’t they?” She asks, carefully.

“Well, mine only makes you heavier. And I never really tried it on people.” I look at her meaningfully, “Gotta fuck around to find out, don’t we?” Then I immediately look forward and swerve out of the incoming traffic. Because I’m so good at driving! Aren’t I?! Why not get distracted by a- uh. Yeah. Don't fuck your coworkers. Don't fuck with your coworkers, I mean.

“So that’s your plan, huh? Gather a bunch of durable goons and rule the city?”

“Yeah, actually. I’m sure that’s a much kinder fate for Brockton Bay than what it is suffering right now.”

“Kinda tough being worse than a gang of nazis and a gang of sex traffickers, yeah.”

The rest of the ride is, thankfully, bullshit-free. I stop the car in front of an alleyway. Yay to narrow, sometimes dead end, streets. Capes’ best friends. That’s where I stashed my emergency clothes. I hand a bag to Chillax and get further into the alley. I dust my current hoodie and jeans and get in a new pair. Having money really changed my outlook on life. I’m used to losing clothes for one reason or another, but now it is less of a dip on my budget to get new stuff. That’s nice.

I wait around for a couple more minutes and return to Chillax when I hear the sound of something burning. Chillax is standing in her new clothes in front of her burning old clothes.

“Oh, don’t pay me any mind. The hoodie was kinda soaked in gasoline anyway and was on its last breath. Wouldn’t want anyone to track me down with it, is all.” she explains. I nod at that, having destroyed my previous clothes too.

“Let’s get to it then.” I say, breaking her out of her zone-out. I offer her my hand. She takes a deep breath and grabs it. I see a lot of structural damage to her body, but nothing lethal by the looks of it. She’ll need to get some first aid, probably stitches too, and I wasn’t trained for that. I mix in some gemstone toughness with steel toughness, and add more metal durability to her body. Not too much. I feel a distinct cutoff point where more durability will not strengthen her, and weigh her down instead. Right now she’s basically Weld Lite. Just not a case 53 and less heavy and weaker.

Chillax takes a step back. Tries a couple jumps, a couple swings. “Well, I don’t feel much of a difference. It kinda feels like I can lift a truck though!” She approaches the car and tries to lift it by its bumper but drops it after lifting it a couple inches. “Nope! Just kinda shift a truck. Still cool, still awesome.”

We take a bus to the Boardwalk where I have my recruitment money stashed. I de-rock the fanny pack that I filled with around 10 thou in ten dollar bills.

“Well, I’m sure you can get yourself a hotel room or something,” I say awkwardly. “Uh, I’m kinda busy tomorrow… and on sunday. So see you on monday?”

“Sure thing!” She salutes me and walks off towards the rig. I fight my stomach to suppress my worries that I just got the Protectorate a new member AND gave them money. It’s fine. It’s okay. If she betrays me, I’ll just have to make her eyelids too heavy to lift.

I fish my newly bought phone out to see a message from Fencefourth. I pause dead in my tracks as I see a familiar flame of red hair posing in front of the force field of the Protectorate rig, grinning from ear to ear, looking like she’s about to strike the building down with her fist.

Fence4th: Guess wher I m rn :D
DopeEffect: Whoa, unexpected face reveal!
ClickSlack: Is that why your busy tmrw? :)
Fence4th: Ye

Oh. Oh fuck.