Chapter 1068 - 2.9 + interlude

So, my house was definitely under surveillance.

It was early afternoon. I'd gotten up early, and spent several (frustrating) hours magically enhancing my senses for just this sort of eventuality, as well as preparing a few defensive spells just in case. I hadn't actually expected to have any trouble getting in there, but I'd wanted to be prepared.

Plus, I'd needed the extra time to compensate for the abysmal quality of my tools and ritual space- an all too familiar problem that I really needed to find a way to deal with.

Now, standing on the corner down the street from my house, hoodie pulled up over my face, empty gym bag slung over my shoulder, pretending to look down at my phone I could practically taste the energy flows of the modern world- a dizzying web of cell signals, radio transmissions, wi-fi networks, et cetera. I couldn't interpret any of it- I hadn't bothered to try-, but it wasn't exactly hard to notice that my house was the center of a cluster of signals, far more than anywhere else on the block.

So, Dad had gone to the PRT. Damn it! Damn him. He couldn't have waited another day?

This was bad- this was just-

I seethed.

It was my fault, of course. My anger and hurt and... everything. I hadn't wanted to even risk seeing dad, so I'd stayed away. Only time would tell just how that choice would come back to haunt me. What kind of attention it would attract.

I would have to be careful, now.

I'd really made a mess of this.

Still, there didn't seem to be any suspicious vans loitering around or anything, so breaking in was probably not too much of a risk- it would be good to confirm if my room had been searched, and I also might as well grab some clothes... and leave a note for my dad, I guess.

I had no idea what I wanted to say to him- why did it have to be now that you started trying to fix things right away?

Probably something less cruel.

As I approached my house I noticed that the broken front step was snapped clean in half. As if, perhaps, someone unusually heavy due to something they were wearing or carrying, had put their foot clean through it and it hadn't been repaired. A little clumsy- they should have tried to fix it up because as it was I couldn't help but notice it, and potentially get scared off before I opened the door.

It wasn't like we gotten a lot of visitors lately.

Luckily I still had my keys.

The second I opened the door I started sensing increased signals from all over the place, but I put them out of my mind.

I made my way up the stairs to my room quickly, but not frantically- trying to give the appearance that I was in a hurry but not aware of the alarms I'd set off opening the door, on the off chance that they had cameras in here watching me or something.

My room was a disaster. Drawers pulled out, clothes and possessions scattered at random. I couldn't help but flush angrily at the mental image of some middle-aged PRT agent rifling through my underwear.

Dad hadn't even tried to clean any of this up.

It wasn't hard to see that they'd done a good enough job to find my books, and I couldn't help but wonder if my bullying journal would cause any problems for Sophia or if they'd just sweep it all under the rug for her like Winslow.

I wondered what they would make of my other notebooks, and a wave of anger washed over me.

This was it. I was in the system now. The man was so worried about the Empire, but this was so much more likely to get me killed one day.

He couldn't have waited another damn day?

It was my fault, of course. I was the one who shouldn't have waited. I just really hadn't wanted to come back here. The price of that weakness was that I never could again.

This was all so much easier before computers.

I gave myself a minute to cram as many of my clothes as I could into my bag, making sure to grab paper and pencil on my way out- I also couldn't help but check on my father's room. If it had been searched, there was no sign of it, to the point where the bed was made.

I ran back down the stairs, stopping briefly in the kitchen to leave my folded note on the table.

It said I was sorry. It said I didn't want him to feel hurt. And it said I wasn't coming home.

That was all I could bring myself to write. I didn't really feel that sorry- or, if I did it was mixed in with enough righteous anger that it didn't bother me. But it was certainly true that I could have handled him better, even if some good- my epiphany- had come out of it.

It was hard to say.

The best thing that my dad could do now was find a way to let me go. Try telling him that.

Oh, to be ten years older.

But that was more than enough ruminating in the house that the PRT was probably descending upon. I hefted my gym bag across my shoulder and went out the back door, waiting until I was reasonably sure that I was out of the field of view for any hypothetical cameras before breaking into a run.

I spent most of the rest of the day resisting the urge to lash out. The urge to do something was strong- but I knew now that it was more about trying to distract myself from my problems than anything else, and I refused to be so... out of control. But it hurt. There was a good chance that I would never have a chance to repair my relationship with my father. Never even get the chance to see or talk to him again, let alone do anything. Nothing. We'd never eat dinner together. He'd never take me shopping, or give me a birthday gift. I'd never make us breakfast after he'd been out late and I woke up earlier than he did.

It was almost like losing mom again.

Introspection really was the worst sometimes.

But no matter how I felt the truth was that I did still have numerous practical problems to deal with, and most of them began with getting money.

The only good thing about the gangs infesting this city was that they tended to have a lot of spare cash lying around.

And maybe I could find another Empire cape in the process.

Healthy reaction or not, the idea did make me feel a little better.

----

a/n: so I was struggling a bit with deciding how to pace this arc (and then time just kinda got away from me) but I think I've got it sorted out. Sorry this is so short and belated, but it felt like a distinct chunk of events soooo

enjoy! Award ReplyReport221Behold!27/2/2024NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Awaken 2.4 New View contentBehold!impervious to your most powerful magnetic fieldsAward Recipient29/2/2024Add bookmark#182Putting everything with my dad aside, I'd taken about two weeks to prepare, scrounging a few thousand more from ATMs, all the while painfully aware of the tab that I was running up by staying in this hotel. Mostly that had involved magical observation, trying to scry out locations that I could hit. The rest was primarily study- if that word could be said to apply to what was essentially meditating on fragments of past-life experiences, trying to synthesize a better understanding of the Ars Virium.

I also started a few new notebooks, which I firmly resolved to be more careful with. It was just too helpful to write things down as I remembered them.

When I got tired of that, I went out to acquire more resources- I found an artist who worked in glass and paid him several grand to make me a dozen glass arrowheads precisely inscribed with the Enochian glyph representing the number eight I'd sketched for him. I also finally got lucky and stumbled across a lightning-struck oak in a city park that I cut a large branch from, about as thick as my wrist. Two nights later- for a better celestial alignment- I carefully peeled the bark, and hardened it in a fire kindled on a bed of white-hot iron ingots that I'd carved with appropriate symbols- pentacles of Mars and Saturn, for example. I'd had to steal a propane torch and safety gloves and goggles from a hardware store. After the branch was slightly charred, I carefully cut Enochian phrases into it- secret names and invocations of angelic power- and polished it.

It was a pretty good wand, although of course it could have been better. I made another out of a series of long flexible twigs of the greenest green wood, braided together along with strips of white cloth- less good, but it should serve.

When I needed to cast spells, I mostly returned to the area between the Trainyard and the Boat Graveyard- partially because it was fairly easy to find a private space there, sneaking into some abandoned warehouse, but mostly because I was pretty confident there was a Cray- walking around the Boat Graveyard I could faintly feel an aura of seething resentment and despair. I thought I had a pretty good idea of where, but I didn't want to just go charging in- it just seemed too unlikely that it would be unguarded, and I was more interested in securing my living situation first.

Finding gang locations is pretty trivial when you can magically observe people from across the city. The rituals took a long time- it's not like I had an amazingly strong magical connection to Hookwolf- but eventually I found him and more importantly one of the pit fights that internet rumor said he ran. From there, I followed the money, thankfully not having to watch too much of the... event before I found one of the bookies, who eventually led me to the courier who, I was surprised to see, eventually led me not to some run-down stash house, but a fairly upscale looking condo downtown.

It only took me eight hours of ritual in a seedy abandoned warehouse to pull it off.

From there, it was actually strangely simple- invisibly sneaking into the condo building wasn't that hard, and figuring out how to trick the electronic lock with another spell only took maybe ten minutes.

A pair of Empire gangsters were already on their feet, guns out, as the door swung open- I was impressed, doubly so since they'd noticed it over fairly loud sound of baseball commentary coming from the TV, but before either of them could fire a shot I had them both stuck in a clever little spell I remembered favoring across several lives. It was tough- I had to concentrate to catch both of them.

Popularly known as a friction curse, the spell would effectively immobilize them- if they attempted to move, the kinetic energy of that motion would be converted into heat, leaving them with the choice of standing still or slowly burning themselves alive- typically, at least. In this case, I'd actually gone with a modification of the spell that turned the energy into cold.

Instead, still invisible, I shut the door behind me and walked into the apartment, dimming the lights down to almost nothing with another quickly whispered spell, using the energy to fuel a kinetic pull that ripped their guns out of their hands.

One of the gang members whimpered. Quickly I physically flipped the light switches near me to off before the light came back- there was one farther into the room by the kitchenette that I couldn't get to in time, so I just left it on like it was part of my plan- I had spells on me to improve my perceptions, so the semi-darkness didn't bother me.

My search took long enough that I made sure to refresh the spell on the gangsters, just in case, although it looked like one of them hadn't managed to get a hint and had actually passed out from the cold. Eventually, though, I managed to find a false panel in the bedroom closet.

Inside it was a stack of flat bricks of cash, each made up of several bundles, and wrapped tightly in plastic, as well as a number of loose bundles and rolls wrapped in elastics. It was easily the most cash I'd ever seen in one place, and I couldn't help but stare at it for a moment.

I was so glad I had brought my gym bag rather than my backpack.

While I was shoveling the cash into my bag, I also found what I assumed was a few bricks of cocaine, which I initially ignored, until an idea struck me as I was cramming the last of the loose bundles into the now-heavy bag, so I took one before I returned to the main room of the condo.

"That cold that you feel is death, reaching out for you," I whispered into the ear of one of the gang members- the younger of the two- who shrieked in surprise. "Any members of the Empire who do not flee this city will feel it again, one last time. When the night takes them."

On my way out, I used the brick of drugs to wedge the door open. And I pulled the fire alarm just before I entered the stairwell.

The condo wasn't as close to the roof as I would've liked, given how heavy my bag was, but I managed to make it- even though my state as I staggered out onto the roof- flushed, sweaty, gasping for air- did sort of put a damper on the exhilaration I would've otherwise been feeling. I took a minute- a few minutes- to recover, and then cast another spell and flew off into the night.

When I counted the money back in the hotel I found it was upwards of four million dollars.

I sat. I stared. I may have hyperventilated a little.

Now I just needed to find someone who could help me launder this- so that meant, what, getting set up with a fake ID good enough to open a bank account? It wasn't exactly something I knew how to do.

One thing I did know is that I didn't want to go back to Elysium for more favors, if I could avoid it. So, the next morning, I was back at the library to do more research, trying not to spend every second thinking about the cash I'd left behind in my hotel room- I knew for a fact that the staff were good about obeying a do-not-disturb sign, but I was still unreasonably- or perhaps reasonably, four million dollars!- paranoid.

I remembered reading about a gang of Parahuman mercenaries- after spending most of the day on the internet I managed to confirm that they were lead by someone called Faultline and they probably operated out of a club called the Palanquin.

I didn't exactly know the etiquette here, but just showing up had gotten me through the door at Elysium- but phoning ahead might actually be a better idea.

This time I did actually go out and buy a basic domino mask- I still wasn't sure about the idea of an actual costume, but again I felt like I had to.

Finding the Palanquin's public phone number wasn't that hard. It was still fairly early, and I doubted that a club would be open- but it didn't hurt to try now anyway. After a few moments wrestling with my not-quite-buried social anxiety over cold calling someone like this, I picked up my burner phone and dialed.

"Palanquin," a man's voice said brusquely.

"I want to talk to Faultline," I said.

"I think you got the wrong number, kid," he said.

"Tell her it's a client," I said quickly, before he could hang up. "Tell her I'll pay her one thousand dollars for half an hour of her time."

"Hold please," the man said, voice colder now.

I felt vaguely disappointed that there was no actual hold music.

"Are you Parahuman?" the same man's voice came back after a minute or two.

"Yes," I lied.

"She says tomorrow at six, before the club opens" he said. "Truce rules."

"Sounds good to me," I bluffed, and was answered only by a click as the line went dead.

The next evening, I was pacing around on a rooftop a few buildings down from the Palanquin, staring at the currently unlit letters of its sign. I'd been here for over an hour, out of preparedness and nerves. I was trying to draw on the social skills I'd possessed, lifetimes ago- I'd been good at this kind of thing before.

It was time to go.

A spell- I'd been hoping it would be quick, but I felt the casting getting away from me and had to slow down and do the rite properly- just hoping I wasn't in the view of any cameras- and I floated gently down from the rooftop into the alley beside the Palanquin. As promised, someone was waiting for me- he looked like he probably worked as a bouncer in his regular job. A big guy, tan and muscular, wearing a simple tank top and jeans. He stared at me as I arrived, but did a pretty good job playing cool.

I was wearing a basic domino mask, with my hair tied back in a loose ponytail, my dark grey coat over a dark purple hoodie, white dress shirt, and dark pants.

"I'm here to meet Faultline," I said, as I landed. The guy stared at me.

"Huh?" He said, after a moment. I stared back- what was this?- I opened my mouth to repeat myself... and it hit me.

Je suis ici pour rencontrer ligne-de-faille.

That's what I'd said. My face froze. Had I been doing this all this time?

I couldn't worry about it.

"I'm here to meet Faultline," I said, carefully. In English.

"Right..." the guy said, giving me a dubious look. "This way- and don't try anything." I shrugged.

He led me around to a back door next to a little loading dock area that was presumably used for deliveries, and then inside through the a few hallways and up a flight of stairs.

The second I walked into the building, I could feel there were Parahumans here- at least four or five. Two of them were behind the door that the bouncer guy led me to. He gestured for me to wait, knocked twice and then went in. A minute or so later, he opened the door, and stepped out, gesturing for me to go into the room- he waited for me to pass, and then shut the door, leaving himself on the other side.

In the room two people were waiting for me- the first one that caught my eye was the man. Mostly because of his translucent skin- I could see muscle, and the shadowy shape of his skeleton beneath- and the odd shell-like growths studding his flesh.

Also, his aura was- to put it mildly- kind of fucked up. He had similar marks to the other Parahumans I had seen, but there was something... off about them. I couldn't really put my finger on it exactly.

The other, a young-ish woman, was wearing something almost like a welder's mask, of all things, and very obviously had a bulletproof vest incorporated into her outfit, which otherwise looked like an odd blend of riot gear, a martial arts uniform, and a dress. She had long, straight dark hair in a tight, bristling ponytail.

They were sitting in a pair of chairs, with a third set up facing them. The woman looked at me impassively for a moment, and then gestured for me to sit. I walked to the chair, and then slowly reached into my pocket- I noticed them both tense- and retrieved a folded wad of bills wrapped with an elastic band. I held it up, and then tossed it on the small end table between them. Neither moved to pick it up. I sat.

"I'm Faultline," she said, after a moment. "This is Gregor."

They looked at me.

"Decima," I said. I'd reluctantly come around to the conclusion that I'd need to actually adopt a cape name or I'd just end up with something assigned to me, but it turned out that I was really not good at coming up with names- I'd rejected several ideas- Miscellanea, Augusta, Werethekau, Strix or Athene Noctua, Glaux, Pallas, Ma'at, Adept, Arete, Avatar, Vis- either for too obviously alluding to things I wanted to keep quiet, or just being... too much.

I'd even thought briefly about Bonisaga or Decenoma, but either seemed presumptuous.

If anyone asked, I could tell them it was the name of one of the Parcae- the fates, in Roman myth- the one who decided the length of the thread of a person's life, but I'd actually chosen it because it also more or less meant tenth, and that seemed appropriate. For a few reasons.

And to most English speakers it suggested the word 'decimate'.

Gregor made a small 'hm' noise upon hearing the name, and I had a brief moment of worry that I'd accidentally pronounced it with a hard 'c' as in classical Latin, which I still sort of wanted to do- but nobody would know what I was saying, and since I was already bowing to practicality anyway-

"Not Elementalist?" Faultline interrupted my train of thought. I froze, cursing internally. Gregor gave his- boss? partner?- a brief sidelong glance, but said nothing.

"Did you let the PRT name you?" I retorted after a brief but probably noticeable pause.

"At least you're not trying to deny it," Faultline murmured. "If you want us to help you get out of the city, we can do that. If you're looking for allies against the Empire, the answer is no."

"Oh really?"

"I doubt you could afford us," she said.

"I'm just looking for a referral," I said. "I figured you might know people who could help set me up with a good fake ID and a way to clean some money."

"Maybe I could," Faultline said. She paused for a moment. "Bearing in mind that this is a meeting under truce, are you aware that the Empire's put a bounty on your head?"

I shrugged.

"You should be more worried," Faultline said. "You haven't exactly made a lot of friends with your little spree."

"The Empire actually set most of those fires," I interjected.

"And you're the one who killed two of their capes," Faultline replied. "Do you even know how far over the line you've gone?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, after an awkward moment. Faultline sighed.

"You really did decide to pick a fight with the city's biggest gang first thing," She said. "Fine. Have you never wondered why so few cape fights end with a fatality? There are certain... guidelines, for how capes behave with each other. An unwritten code of conduct, of a sort."

"Like what?"

"Don't go after people out of costume," Faultline said. "Don't go after loved ones. No powers during truce meetings. Avoid lethal force." She shifted her head, somehow giving me the impression she was giving me an unimpressed look. "Or things like mind control, sexual assault, massive civilian casualties. Because when capes do those things... the cape world is a delicate ecosystem. Certain behaviours ruins the game for the rest of us. So when someone does step too far out of line, the community steps in.

"And you actually expect me to believe any of this works?" I scoffed. "Like all the villains in this city are going to drop what they're doing and join forces to come after me."

"If you keep killing capes, they might." Faultline said. "Even the heroes might get in on it. Unofficially. Even if it's just not pressing the attack until you're down."

"Well if you happen to talk to anyone thinking about going after me for the Empire's sake, tell them that if they sympathize with the nazis then that makes them a nazi sympathizer," I said coldly. I wasn't sure, but she might've flinched a little at that. "And remind them that I don't hesitate. Bearing in mind that this is a meeting under truce."

"You're not exactly making me want to associate with you," Faultline said.

"You're a mercenary," I retorted. "Be mercenary. I'll give you ten grand for a couple of phone numbers. Your name will never be mentioned to anyone." I tapped my hand on one of my pockets.

Faultline sighed, and then reach- slowly- into one of her own pockets, producing a notepad and a small pen. She wrote quickly, and tore off the sheet of paper, folding it in half as she stood up, holding it out to me. I stood also, producing another stack of bills from my pocket, which I handed to her in exchange for the paper. It felt like a ridiculous amount of money to pay for something like this, but it's not like it was my cash. I stuck the note in my pocket without looking at it, as Faultline dropped the money on the table next to what I'd already tossed her.

"I can't think of a single reason that we'd need to be enemies," I told her bluntly. "I hope that doesn't change. I might need more work done, one day."

She nodded slightly. I turned to go, and then stopped.

"If I knew Kaiser's real name I would kill him in his sleep," I said. "These nazi bastards don't get a pass just by putting on a costume. If that makes you want to team up with Lung and those video game idiots to come stop me: try."

"You think you're the first new cape would-be vigilante who thought they were going to be the one to bring down the Empire?" Faultline asked mildly. "No offense, kid, but the Empire's not going to need a team-up." I just shrugged.

"Nice doing business with you," I called over my shoulder as I left the room- unsurprisingly the bouncer guy who had let me in was waiting at the end of the hall to lead me back out of the building.

I waited until I was out in the alley to actually check the note she'd given me- a couple of nondescript email addresses. I smiled. The conversation hadn't really gone the way I wanted to- I was definitely fighting the socially awkward urge to go back and cringe over every detail- but I'd gotten what I wanted. Without any vampires!

I crammed the note in my pocket and started walking. I wanted to get a ways distance from the Palanquin before I turned myself invisible for a little while, and then back to the hotel. I could email these people from the library tomorrow, although I should probably just break down and buy myself a laptop and a better phone- the idea just made me a little uncomfortable, for several reasons.

That was when, down the street ahead of me, an unmarked black van abruptly pulled over and a group of men jumped out.

They were wearing what looked to my inexpert eye as military style tactical gear, and carrying big machine guns with what I first thought were high-tech flashlights attached under the gun barrel.

Until they started firing lasers at me.

----

a/n: Hopefully this cliffhanger isn't obnoxious.

I would've had this out a day or two ago but I was just really indecisive about her 'cape' name. In the end I decided that she'd want something that still had a little meaning but didn't actually hint at anything secret. I almost went with Strix Noctua, formerly the taxonomic name for the Little Owl aka the Owl of Athena/Minerva- so a triple threat, referencing her nickname, a wisdom goddess, and also a witchy allusion- but it seemed too vampire-y. And, like, what's the benefit for her in giving people clues?

I'll try not to get cold feet and retcon it tomorrow.

(I don't actually speak Latin but I thiiiink is that 'decima' isn't actually correct for tenth as an ordinal number but I figure it's close enough. I also don't really speak French so forgive me any awkwardness?)

I hope 'surprise huge amount of money' didn't feel like a cheat, but it seemed like a more interesting alternative to a montage of several robberies, which was my other plan. YMMV?

Anyway, Taylor now has Forces 3, taking her from 'control minor Forces' to 'transmute minor Forces', which is a surprisingly big upgrade, especially in the low-paradox environment of Bet. Friction Curse is one of the sample Forces 3 spells in at least a couple of editions of the Mage the Ascension corebook and I've always liked it.

I've been meaning to sneak in examples of Taylor accidentally speaking in another language, but she hasn't actually done a whole lot of talking yet so I haven't gotten around to it. Just Past Lives things (technically the Throwback flaw in action).

And as a hardened veteran of the Ascension War, kinda, Taylor finds the idea of the unwritten rules to be generally absurd- although there is precedent in her world for begrudging cease-fires/teamups to deal with a bigger problem, she would never ever presume that her enemies are gonna pull their punches.

think that's it, enjoy!

edit: oh, and the description of her making a wand out wood from a lightning struck oak and so on is more or less lifted from somewhere in the Revised Order of Hermes Tradition Book, just for funLast edited: 29/2/2024 Award ReplyReport239Behold!29/2/2024NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Awaken 2.5 New View contentBehold!impervious to your most powerful magnetic fieldsAward Recipient20/4/2024Add bookmark#220Even as I saw the men exiting the van I had already thrown myself behind a parked car, ducking low as I saw the flashes of purple- purple?- beams passing overhead, and flattening myself to the ground.

All purely on instinct- I was flat on my face behind a parked car before I'd fully registered what was happening.

I could hear screaming from up and down the street as I rolled over onto my back, muttering spells as I traced symbols in the air with my dagger- familiar combat rotes to open my senses, giving me full 360 perception of everything within range, closing my eyes for a moment as I processed the sudden rush of information.

When I opened them again I saw beams cutting through the metal of the SUV's front bumper, several of them right about at where head height would be if I had been crouched.

I could feel the men approaching slowly as they continued to fire. It looked like they were spreading out to make sure they could see either side of the car, meanwhile using their lasers to cut more holes through the car. They hadn't found an angle that would hit me, yet, but that was just a matter of time.

They clearly wanted me dead, and they'd brought some decent firepower to get the job done- almost flattering, in a way.

Not that I wasn't still furious. This city- this world was overrun with the worst kinds of villains, causing untold misery and destruction, but I was the one who got the kill team dropped on her. It was like two weeks since the PRT got hold of my journals. I'd barely even done anything yet! Where was that response time for the entire continents descending into Parahuman anarchy?

Typical, really.

I should probably get out of here. Turn invisible. Run away.

I didn't want to.

Probably not smart- I had no idea what else they might be carrying besides the lasers, but unless they were all equipped with Primium vests or something I thought I might have a chance.

Well, it's not like dying fighting the Technocracy would be a new experience for me.

Wriggling away from the melting metal that was starting to run down the front grill of the car, I fumbled in my pockets for my wand and a small compact mirror that I'd already etched particular symbols into outer casing. Muttering another spell as I did so- I needed a better look at those lasers, watching the mirror carefully as my attackers continued to shoot at and around me, and continued to advance.

Enough of this.

First, I conjured a blast of wind that lifted two of them high into the air. The remaining four reacted quickly, firing rapidly at my hiding spot as they spread out. I wriggled along the ground until I could get a look at one of them around the edge of a tire, chanting as I gripped my wand tight and angled the mirror carefully.

The next shots fired bent through the air and hit him square in the chest, and he stumbled and fell. I could hear one of them shouting something about switching fire as I scrambled to my feet, pocketing the mirror and levelling my wand as I spoke a so-familiar Enochian phrase.

And hurled a blast of fire at the remaining three.

By the time my vision cleared, they were smoking heaps on the ground.

I also saw one of the two that I had hurled away had made it to his feet and was reaching for one of the grenades clipped to his harness- I was already sprinting for a nearby alley, pulling wind around me to hurl me forwards at inhuman speeds- just ahead of the explosion.

That's when I heard the sirens.

Instinct again- avoid mundane law enforcement, don't make the news, et cetera. But it was good instinct- I did not want to wait around for the cops, the PRT, and/or the Protectorate to start showing up- I had to remember that these Sleepers would be ready to fight Parahumans, even without Parahuman backup.

Time to run. I sheathed my dagger- don't run with knives- as I began running down the alley.

Glancing over my shoulder showed no signs of immediate pursuit, so I slowed down a little as I approached the other end of the alley- and a good thing, too, as a similar looking black van was speeding down the street towards me.

Easily taken care of- a quick spell massively increased the friction around the front left wheel, causing the van to swerve violently and slam into a telephone pole with a loud crunch. Before the occupants could recover, I ran across the street towards another alley a few buildings down.

Apparently one of them managed to shake off the crash before I made it, because I suddenly heard the all-too-familiar sound of actual gunfire- though none of the shots hit me as I practically threw myself into the alley.

The sirens were getting louder- or maybe there were just more of them.

I hauled myself to my feet, wincing at my bruised knees, and pulled my wand from its pocket, staggering forward as another hail of bullets impacted the walls at the end of the alley.

I traced a design in the air with the tip of my wand, chanting calmly, and fished out my key chain- why was I even still carrying my house keys?- with my left hand, sticking a finger through the key ring, as I leaned out from the alley for a split second- just long enough to get a glimpse of the grenades dangling the harness of one of my attackers. I pulled sharply with my left hand, ducking back into the alley as my spell took that force and applied it to the pin of one of the grenades, yanking it loose.

I leaned against the wall for a moment, panting, as I heard the grenade go off. I really needed to get into better shape- if I lived through this, I should probably take up jogging or something. I stuffed my keys back into my pocket and glanced back out in the street- several of the occupants of this second van were obviously down, and the van itself was badly damaged. I sighed, trying to catch my breath as I continued down the alley as quickly as I could.

This situation wasn't adding up for me. I had no problems believing that the Technocracy would send squads of killers armed with laser weapons after me- but when those had proven ineffective, they'd reverted to regular bullets and what seemed like normal grenades. No hypertech, no 'Enlightened Science' tricks.

No Primium.

If they wanted me dead urgently enough to attack me like this, why wouldn't they come properly armed? I knew for a fact that the Technocracy had a hell of a lot more firepower than... this.

If they weren't willing to deploy their best stuff, then why do it like this at all? No subtlety- where were the Men in Black?

Maybe I'd been wrong about this whole thing.

I was so caught up thinking that I was almost taken by surprise when one of them appeared in the mouth of the alley- I barely managed to duck behind a dumpster as he started shooting. Before I could do anything, the fire door ahead of me swung open, and a man leaned out, left hand outstretched toward my attacker- who fell, abruptly, like a puppet with its strings cut.

And I felt a wash of tingling numbness sweep past me.

Magic.

I stared, pulling myself to my feet as the man stepped out into the alley.

He was lightly tanned, with short dark hair, and he wore a long black coat with a high collar, and I saw he had a string of wooden beads, like a rosary, twined through the fingers of his left hand as he held the door open with his right. He didn't appear to be armed- and he wasn't wearing a mask.

Of course he wasn't.

"In here," he said.

"Who are you?" I asked, fighting the urge to glance over my shoulder.

"A friend," he said. "I've been looking for you- I got here as soon as I found out they were coming for you."

"What?" I said, playing up my very real confusion.

"I can explain- but not if we get arrested," He smiled easily. "Just give me five minutes to talk to you- just talk, I promise. If you don't like what I have to say, you can leave and never see me again."

"Okay," I said, thinking rapidly. "Okay. Five minutes."

He ushered me through the fire door into the darkness- I stopped dead at one point when I thought I saw a crowd of people, only to realize they were display mannequins- we were in a clothing store, of all places.

Who was this? Who was this?

I was reeling- it was like the floor had suddenly dropped away. I felt light-headed.

I controlled myself.

Had I just gotten insanely lucky?

I wanted to believe that- I wanted to think that I'd been found- that I was going to be able to go home. I wanted to see Horizon, and Doisstep again- for the first time. How can you miss places you've never been? People you've never met?

But I didn't trust this- couldn't trust it.

So I would play a role- I'd been a good liar, once. Lifetimes ago. I needed that, now.

"Who are you?" I asked again, doing my best to seem like the nervous teenager I technically was.

"One moment," he said, closing his eyes and murmuring under his breath, hands folding in front of him. Again, I felt it- the slightest twinge of Resonance. I almost certainly would have missed it, if I hadn't been so desperately looking for it. He opened his eyes. "We're alone. They're running."

"Who are you? What was that? How did you know they were going to- I mean, why did you help me? And who were they? And what's going on?" I babbled- I'd been a babbler, once, before Emma had beaten it out of me- but it wasn't like I'd forgotten how.

"Easy," he laughed gently, and I found myself smiling along with the warmth in his voice. He nodded at the fire exit, and began walking deeper into the store, speaking quietly. "The people who attacked you work for a local Villain who calls himself Coil. He found out you were at a place called the Palanquin, and sent them there to try to kill you."

"But I don't even know him!" I protested. "But, wait, how did you-"

"Coil spies on everyone in this city," he said. "We spy on Coil."

"We?" I asked.

"Me and my friends," he said. "I'm Paul, by the way."

"Oh, I'm T-" I stopped, like I had caught myself. "I mean... the PRT calls me Elementalist. But I don't know if I like it. It's hard to think of a good name."

He chuckled.

"I don't understand any of this," I complained.

"Coil wants you dead because you've caused problems with his power- he's a Thinker of some kind," he said. "He can't stand the idea that his power might fail."

"But I didn't even do anything," I whined.

"It's not anything you did," he said. "It's who you are- what you are. Special."

"I'm not," I said. "My power doesn't even work right sometimes."

"Tell me about that," he said. "Your power- not what you can do. What it feels like."

"It's like... it's like there's a light inside me," I said. "A fire. But it's inside other things to. Sometimes it whispers to me. Sometimes it's almost like the entire city and everything in it is alive and whispering. But it's not just that- it's like... energy too. Everything. Like it's all connected somehow." I laughed, trying to sound nervous. "I try to whisper back- make it do things, but it doesn't always work. It's better if I- I mean... well.. I... I keep having these weird dreams... I kinda thought I was going a little crazy. I've done research, but no other Parahuman ever talked about feeling anything like this."

He smiled, kindly.

"They haven't," he said. "You're special. We're special."

"I felt something," I said, like I'd just remembered it. "When you, uh, stopped that guy in the alley. That never happened before."

"Like I said," he told me. "We're special."

"How?" I said. "Sometimes my power is really strong, but sometimes it doesn't work, or... goes weird."

"And what if I said you didn't have a power," He said, watching me carefully. "Because you're not a Parahuman at all."

"I'd say you were crazy," I said.

"Would you?" He smiled. "Are you sure?"

"I-"

He was frowning at me.

"You guard yourself very closely," he said, eyeing me intently.

"It's Brockton Bay," I said. "I don't even know who you are."

"Fair enough," he said.

"What do you mean I'm not Parahuman?" I demanded, trying to change topic. "That's- How could that be possible?"

"What's the phrase? 'There are more things in heaven and in earth-'"

"'Than are dreamt of in your philosophy'," I blurted out, and then cringed. "Uh, sorry. Hamlet, right? My mom- she used to read me Shakespeare. She- Uh... I talk a lot. When I'm nervous. Sorry."

"It's alright," he said. "You're taking it fairly well, all things considered."

I shrugged.

"Well, it's true," he said. "Parahumans are only the beginning- there's so much more out there, more than you can imagine. You've taken your first step- I can show you how to take the next one. Teach you. Guide you. You have no idea what you're truly capable of. What you'll be able to do."

"How?" I said.

"Your power is unreliable because you don't fully understand it," he said. "It needs to be fully... awakened, you might say. If you c-

"What does that mean?" I interrupted him. "What do you mean, awaken my power?"

"It's hard to explain- the process is... very personal. It's different for everyone." He said. "Words fail, but I can show you. Once I contact my allies, I can take you there."

"Where?" I asked.

"A special, secret place," he said. "Where all your questions will be answered, and you can learn everything you want to know- and more."

"Okay," I said. "I mean... I don't know. I- I'm not sure, I- I just-"

"You can trust me, Taylor."

"O-Okay," I stammered. "Sorry. I just- like I said, I sort of... I talk a lot. When I'm nervous. I'm really nervous."

"It's understandable," he told me.

"Right," I said. "Of course. Who wouldn't be. Nervous. Understandable."

"Come on," he said, gesturing for me to follow.

"Thanks," I said. "I mean- thanks- for helping me. Back there. I don't know- I mean, whatever you did- I- Sorry, I'm just- well, you know. I mean you must know- if you're like me, you've been through all of this, right?"

"That's right."

"And you were nervous too, I bet," I said, thrusting my hands into my pockets.

"Now and then," he said, giving me another easy smile.

"What about when you went through the Cauls?" I asked quickly, grasping hold of my dagger and wand.

"Of course I-" He froze, mid-sentence.

I screamed. Not just a scream, but the Enochian word for Fire. Loudly as I could, putting everything I had into that scream. And what emerged from my mouth was not sound, but fire- a jet of flame that took him square in the face as I pulled my dagger and stabbed it into him as hard as I could- he was already stumbling away so I only scratched him, before I darted behind a shelf of neatly folded clothing. Coughing, as I remembered why that spell was generally avoided- my throat felt a little raw from the heat. Nothing serious.

I could see him, with my enhanced senses, holding his face with both hands. I could see the hideously burned skin flaking off, replaced with healed flesh. I saw him straighten, fists clenched. I'd barely hurt him, and he'd already healed.

He too ducked behind a display table as I cast a quick spell- enhancing my senses, attuning to the mystical- I needed to know what he was doing.

"Wait!" He shouted. "You're got it all wrong!"

"Fuck off, Fallen!" I shouted back.

SLEEP

I felt a sudden wave of lethargy wash over me as the command echoed through my brain, but I braced myself, focusing my will against it, and shook it off.

"I don't want to hurt you!" He shouted. "I'm not Nephandi! I'm a Chorister!"

"Oh please," I muttered.

I began to chant quietly- I was pretty sure he'd enhanced his durability, but that just meant I'd need to hit him harder- first, put him off balance.

He actually yelped as my spell flung him into the air- but nowhere near as hard as I'd wanted.

I began working on another blast of flames- this one was going to be a lot bigger- but before I began I saw him tumble to the floor and begin casting again- I could feel the spell forming, one that would rip my body apart by twisting space to smear me across several different places at once.

Urgently, I began to chant Enochian words of negation, cancellation, undoing- this probably would have killed a lesser Mage, but I knew countermagick.

Still, I felt reality warp around me, and I screamed as my flesh tore- but even through the pain, I could tell that it hadn't hurt me that much. All things considered.

I staggered against the shelf as I felt another blast of psychic energy roll harmlessly off my defenses.

Alright, enough.

Enough, enough, enough.

I stood, pushing the pain away, and stepping out from behind the shelf as I leveled my wand, speaking Enochian words of power loudly and calmly as I drew deeply on the small store of Vis within me.

I raised my free hand, pointing imperiously.

A massive blast of flame engulfed my enemy. I heard him scream, raw and agonized.

I could feel him trying to cast something, even as I blinked away the afterimage of the flames, a random flailing of magic accomplishing nothing.

I strode over to where he was splayed beside the burning remnants of a shelves and clothes.

"Not just a little lost Orphan after all," I told him. "Better luck next time, Barrabi."

"I'm not-" He began, urgently, croaking through burned lips.

I answered him with fire.

---

a/n: I aten't dead

Sorry about the awful delay- I had some trouble with this one and also I got busy and also also writer's block is just the worst. And trying to write Mage-on-Mage combat is tough, because there's just so many options (I also wrote a whole lot not remembering she had Prime 2 now so yeah).

And, yeah, that happened. Let's all hope that Taylor was right and this dude was a Nephandus not some extremely unlucky Tradition Mage who said a few wrong things (I had him give his name as Paul because I had Dune on the brain from rereading it for Part 2)

So: From Taylor's perspective it sounded a lot like this guy was leading up to putting her through the Caul, which is how you become properly Nephandi- all the talk about a special way to awaken her powers doesn't really fit with how learning Magic(k) works to her mind, but it would potentially be enticing to an Orphan Mage who is struggling and doesn't know better.

(I still feel a little ambivalent- like the fairly basic word-game where she gets him to admit he went through the Caul might have been a bit too simple to work on a Nephandi? But then again, were he such, he would be overconfident, having done several of these Orphan* recruitment trips before, and Taylor is saying familiar things 'I think I'm Parahuman but my powers are weird and confusing'- so I hope it's acceptable. Or maybe it was just a slip of the tongue from an innocent man?)

Hope the fight itself was interesting. Like I said, there are so many options I always worry I'm missing something obvious that a Mage should be able to do.

Also, and I haven't been doing this and may never again, but I decided to actually roll out the spells for the fight (because I felt like it).

Spoiler

I feel like I should have more to say but I can't think of anything right now, so instead I invite questions.

Anyway, enjoy! Sorry again for the delay.Last edited: 20/4/2024 Award ReplyReport226Behold!20/4/2024NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Awaken 2.6 New View contentBehold!impervious to your most powerful magnetic fieldsAward Recipient22/5/2024Add bookmark#262"Hello, Faultline. We need to talk."

To her credit, her reflexes were excellent- she had a gun out of her desk drawer almost before I'd finished talking, pushing her mask down to cover her face with her free hand. She'd even had a simple domino mask on under it.

"El- Decima?" She stood up from her desk- in her private office, not the room where we'd met previously- gun trained on where the sound of my voice seemed, to her, to be coming from.

Shadows moved, in the corner of the room; the vague outline of a human form, emerging from the darkness.

"You must have noticed the incident the other night," I said, interrupting whatever she'd been about to say. "Turns out Coil really wants me dead- so much for rules."

"You broke into my office to blame me for a suspected Thinker being able to find you in a public place?" Faultline said dismissively, her gun still up and aimed square for where she thought I was standing. "Drop the shadows, and we can talk. About what it's going to cost you to walk out of here, after this."

"If Coil could find me with his powers, he would have done it before or since," I said.

The door burst open, and Gregor burst in, followed by another man with bright orange skin and a tail, of all things, and a pair of burly looking guys with pistols- I thought one of them might have been the bouncer I'd seen before.

She'd hit a panic button and I'd never even noticed- clever.

Gregor raised his hand, and a jet of viscous fluid sprayed through the shadows, splashing across the wall before beginning to harden.

"Try it again, and I'll make your regret it," I warned him.

"Don't," Faultline said. "She's not actually standing there- light and sound manipulation, or something, right? She may not even be in the room."

"Impressive," I said. "Now let's talk about how you're going to impress me again. You may want to send your minions out. I promise not to hurt anyone or break anything."

"It's alright," Faultline said. Gregor turned to her, and I saw her mask tilt as she nodded fractionally. Gregor frowned- as best as I could read his facial expressions, given his translucent skin. Slowly, reluctantly, he left.

"You're going to help me find Coil," I told her, the moment the door closed. "You'll give me all the information you have, and then you'll go out and learn more."

"I'm not going to help you commit murder," she said, lowering her weapon slightly.

"You already have," I told her. "When you failed to keep Coil's spy out of our business. Last time I left this building, I ended up having to kill people. Because of you. You owe me."

"You-"

"I'm not negotiating," I interrupted her. "Would you die for Coil?"

Her grip tightened on her weapon.

"Don't miss," I told her.

"I don't have much on him," Faultline admitted after a moment. "But I can make some calls."

"Good," I said. "Give me your number. I'll call you tomorrow."

"It might take longer than that," Faultline said.

"Then I'll call back." I sneered. Faultline sighed, and recited a phone number, putting her gun down on the desk beside her.

"Decima," Faultline hesitated. "Last time we spoke, you said you couldn't think of a reason we'd need to be enemies... don't come here again."

Halfway across the city, I released the spells that had been projecting my voice and manipulating the shadows in her office.

As if I'd actually walk back into that building.

I spend the next half an hour or so watching Faultline as she carefully and methodically searched her office and had a tense conversation with Gregor about the potential spy in their camp.

It certainly didn't seem like she'd deliberately sold me out. Which probably meant that I could trust the information she'd given me.

I had spent the week after the battle in a paranoid frenzy of activity, moving from motel to motel, never staying in the same place longer than it took to sleep. Waiting and preparing for the Nephandic counterattack that had yet to come.

Which seemed to suggest that they couldn't find me.

I had to assume that the Nephandus had friends. He'd known my name- Taylor, that is- so I had to assume that his friends knew that too. By now they'd know that trying to find me with it wasn't working.

I had to assume they would be more ready for me next time. That more Nephandi would be coming.

There were no alternatives worth thinking about.

After a while, I had felt secure enough to start thinking of my next move- clearly, Coil had to go. Thus, my little meeting with Faultline. I'd probably lost any chance of ever working with her again, but I didn't really care all that much.

It was undiplomatic, but I was angry and I was tired and I wanted to take some of it out on someone.

My latest Seeking had taught me the dangers of fixation as a way to avoid dealing with things, like I had with the Empire. But wallowing in doubt wasn't really much better.

So. There had been a man. A Mage. And I had killed him. And he might not have been Nephandi. There was no way to know for sure- there never was, with them.

But I thought he was. I thought I had done right.

It didn't make it any easier to deal with the memory, or the way the smell of burning flesh and hair would sometimes randomly invade my mind.

If I had been wrong, I had done something terrible. Had I let my paranoia get the better of me? How much of my suspicion and hostility had come from the fact that he'd talked down to me, like the child I was. No matter how I tried to convince myself, the misery of my pre-Awakening life was still with me- had it been the brittle ego of a teenager that set me off?

If I had been right, I had saved myself from death- or worse. I didn't know much about Nephandi, but I had heard horror stories of people being tortured until they turned. Or for fun. And whatever else, I didn't want to die. I really didn't want to die.

Nobody- and I mean nobody, not in nine lifetimes of memories- had ever told me that being a Mage would be easy.

The next day, I went down to the library- not the local branch, but the main building downtown. I had an appointment with on Ms. Johnson, who turned out to be an older woman- maybe 50- who fit my mental image of a librarian so well that I suspected it was deliberate cover. We exchanged maybe three words before she led me down into the basement and sat me down on a stool in front of a pull-down projector screen. An hour or so later, and I walked out hundreds of thousands of dollars poorer, but equipped with a bundle of documents including birth certificate, SSN, a provisional driver's license, and even things like academic transcripts, death certificates for my parents, CPS records and so on for one Mary Webster, orphan and emancipated minor- apparently it was easier for me to pass as 17.

She also gave me the contact information for the accountant/money launderer who could help move the rest of my ill-gotten cash. I already had the same number from Faultline, but I appreciated her professionalism.

She'd clearly suspected I was a cape, but if it had worried her at all, she hadn't let it interfere. I was impressed- not that I didn't duck into a quiet room in the library and spend the next 30-odd minutes watching her magically, but nothing suspicious happened.

Getting everything else set up meant a taxi ride to a strip mall on the edge of town, and dealing with an accountant who had apparently settled on run-down mediocrity as his method of camouflage- based on the percentage I ended up paying him, he could certainly have afforded a better office.

He warned me as I was leaving to make sure I paid my taxes going forward- apparently IRS Thinkers were no joke.

That evening, I was finally back at the Hotel Polidori- somewhat bemused by the fact that they'd apparently held my suite even though I hadn't been there in days. I'd used some of my remaining cash and bought a decent laptop- not one expensive enough that I'd feel bad about ditching it- and a couple of cheap phones, and I spent the rest of the evening browsing Brockton real estate listings.

Somehow, 'Taylor Hebert, homeowner' was almost weirder to consider than anything else that had happened to me this year.

I gave Faultline almost a full day before I called her back.

"I still don't have much on Coil," she said irritably. "But if you want to find out about him, I know where he'll be- he's called a meeting. Truce rules, so if you show up trying to kill him you're going to have to deal with every villain there."

"Give me the details," I said. "I'll respect your truce."

That night, at least. All I needed to do was see the man once.

"I really shouldn't be doing this," Faultline muttered. "It's a bar called Somer's Rock. April 8th​, 7:00 pm."

"I thought Elysium was the neutral meeting spot for capes," I said. Faultline scoffed.

"Oh, there's no fighting in Elysium," she said. "But nobody uses it for important meetings. The Keeper won't stand for any violence, but that doesn't mean anyone trusts him- holding a meeting at Elysium is a rookie move. You should pretend that you knew that, if you want any Brockton Capes to take you seriously."

I hung up on her.

That gave me about a week to plan, and I spent almost all of it- with a few breaks to deal with the last details of getting my fake identity set up- working on my Arts- specifically, Ars Mentis- spells and techniques to pluck the surface thoughts from people's minds. Even if it did mean delaying my other studies, I felt it was something that couldn't wait. I wouldn't let myself be caught out again. Not when it was possible to be certain.

Finally, the day of the meeting came. I had already scouted the location of the bar- making sure I could pick it out of the line of decaying businesses on the street- the night before, and I was up on the roof of a nearby building first thing that morning with a bag full of supplies- both ritual, but also some snacks. Invisible, of course. I also indulged myself with spells to keep the worst of the sun's heat off of me.

My first order of business was to set up for the various rituals I had to perform- drawing intricate designs in chalk, mostly, and wax. Placing candles, securing implements. I would need a lot of spells, here- spells to watch the entire area around me, firstly. Later, spells to project my voice and image into the bar, and to see and hear what was going on inside. It was complex work, but within my capabilities, especially if I took the proper time- which I needed to do anyway, to compensate for the deficit in ritual implements.

It was all worth it, though. There was no way I was actually walking in there if I didn't have to- I had no faith whatsoever that these truce rules would actually protect me.

Three hours before the meeting, I started to see vans arriving in the area. None of them got within sight of the bar, but three of them parked at or near major nearby intersections, close enough to respond rapidly and perfectly positioned to cut off escape.

Not exactly surprising.

Half an hour before the meeting, an understated black town car pulled up by the bar and one of the skinniest men I'd ever seen in my life got out, wearing an almost bizarrely tight bodysuit that covered him so completely it didn't even include eye-holes. Nothing but the stylized image of a white snake looping its way down his body. A group of his mercenaries exited the car after him, and the five of them went into the bar where the staff were evidently expecting them as no words were exchanged as the mercenaries began pulling tables together.

I didn't care about them- I was watching the man in the costume. Watching the rippling greens and blues of his aura. An aura entirely without the clinging tendrils I'd observed in other Parahumans.

Like Sophia- but never mind.

Had Coil sent a body double, or had he never been Parahuman to begin with?

I began to set up for another spell, but before I could actually begin I saw another vehicle approaching. I held off, watching as Faultline and her team arrived; Gregor, the orange one, and others- a blonde girl in a green robe, and someone in a red suit wearing something like a gas mask. Parahumans, all, by their auras. And worried.

I was a little surprised that Faultline had shown up, even after telling me about it- was she that confident I wasn't planning to burn the whole building... or did she just not know that I could?

Coil and Faultline took seats at one of the tables, sitting wordlessly while various members of their entourages found booths or nearby seating- there were no other patrons in the bar.

The waitress moved around, taking orders on a notepad for some reason.

I finished my spell, opening my senses, and the sky was suddenly alive with transmissions- but none of the villains inside Somer's Rock were actively using a phone or radio- yet.

The Undersiders arrived about a minute later. It seemed like all of them- the familiar costumes from that night by the storage lot, and one I hadn't seen before but assumed was probably Hellhound based on her cheap-looking dog mask. Assuming my information about their membership was good.

Skull Helmet- Grue- also took a seat. His aura was interesting- confusion, anxiety, suspicion. Regent's aura's colors were almost as muted as a Vampire's, and there was something off about Hellhound as well... but Tattletale- I could see anger, hate even. And fear.

Wasn't that interesting.

The meeting was still not scheduled to start, so I let them sit in silence and watched their auras change. Shockingly, most of the people in that room were feeling wary and suspicious.

Two minutes before I had decided to make my move, the Empire showed up. In force.

I didn't know them all by sight- obviously I recognized Hookwolf- but it seemed like a large portion of their team- Kaiser, certainly, and his Valkyries, and another woman in a white costume who I thought was probably Purity. Krieg. A man and woman I thought were probably Night and Fog.

A strong showing, and it wasn't even his entire force.

Kaiser took a seat at the opposite end of the table from Coil.

My fists clenched, and I fought the urge to start hurling fire and lightning.

More villains arrived, a trio in stained clothes- Skidmark, Squealer and Mush, and there was a little drama when Skidmark tried to take a seat with the other bosses, but Kaiser and- surprisingly- Grue shut him down.

After that, the room went silent again as the Villains eyed each other warily.

A minute passed. Two. And another car arrived, and Lung got out- instantly recognizable by his metal mask and his ornate tattoos- I'd never actually seen any pictures of him, but they'd come up frequently in my online research.

He walked into the bar alone, without a care in the world, and took his seat at the table.

"I see we're all here," Coil's double said.

"You called this meeting," Kaiser replied.

"Elementalist," Fake-Coil said. "That's what the PRT are calling the independent running around killing your people. And mine."

Lung scoffed.

"You're suggesting... what?" Kaiser asked.

"I have information that could be useful in dealing with her," Fake-Coil said. "Available free of charge. I'm also prepared to commit my forces to a truce- no aggressive action, until Elementalist is... dealt with."

"You're afraid of her," Lung said.

"She's a cape-killer who doesn't hold back when it comes to the un-powered," Fake-Coil said, and I stifled a cheer as my spell caught the radio transmission to the concealed earpiece he was evidently wearing. "I worry about what she will provoke- The PRT are still tallying the damage her little spree did, and I hear she almost killed Velocity. Does anyone at this table think that if they bring in out-of-town Heroes to bring her in, they're all just going to go home after it's done? Getting rid of her is good business. For all of us. I'm not asking most of you to involve yourselves. All you have to do is nothing. And then it's back to business as usual."

I listened to this speech with half an ear, trying to decide what to do- the radio transmission had been far too brief, so clearly the body double wasn't reciting lines being fed to him- this was a rehearsed script.

So I could loiter around up here waiting for the next call, hoping I could track it with a quick enough spell, or...

I grit my teeth, and started casting.

"-no secret that we have grievances against Elementalist," Kaiser was saying. "We'll accept information. But just because we want her gone, doesn't mean the Empire will dance on your strings. It's clear you have something against her, and-"

"Three things," I interrupted- a spell I'd already cast making it seem as if my voice was coming from everywhere at once, as my second spell made a shadowy figure emerge from one of the darker corners of the bar.

The reaction was instantaneous- most of the Villains leapt to their feet, several manifesting their powers- darkness began to pool around Grue, metal emerged from Hookwolf's skin, Skidmark summoned some sort of glowing distortion in the air in front of him, Purity's glow intensified- and Coil's men brought their weapons up.

"Firstly, it's Decima," I said. "Secondly, I'd barely heard of Coil until he tried to have me killed- let alone even consider acting against him." I laughed. "He's so frightened of me that he's trying to get you to help him kill me, and I don't even know why."

I couldn't help but notice Fake-Coil's hand twitch slightly towards his head- as if he was going for his earpiece, before stopping himself. Wishing he could ask his boss for instructions, perhaps?

"Thirdly," I continued, "that's not even the real Coil- I can hear someone feeding him his lines."

Silence. Fake-Coil looked around, backing a step away from the table before stopping. I waited to see if he'd get another prompt from his radio- nothing came.

Kaiser's helmet turned towards Fake-Coil. Lung laughed.

What was more interesting was Tattletale's reaction- as I spoke, her aura went violet, vermilion, and black- excitement, happiness, and hate was an odd combination, and totally unlike anyone else in the room- mostly the predictable mix of anger and suspicion. A devious smirk crept across her face.

"We're leaving," Fake-Coil said, holding out his hand for one of his soldiers to pass him a pistol. "If anyone is interested in what we discussed, contact my organization. And I'm announcing a bounty- one million dollars for Decima, dead."

I laughed.

"I think this meeting is over," Faultline said, holstering the pistol she'd drawn when I 'appeared'.

"Before I go," I said. "The Empire is finished in Brockton Bay. If you want to keep your worthless Nazi lives, you should start running now. To everyone else, I apologize for the intrusion. Let's all just... continue to ignore each other."

"You-" Kaiser began, aura filling with red rage, but I murmured another quick spell and my shadowy projection vanished in a blinding flash of light.

Several of the villains cried out reflexively, trying belatedly to shield their eyes and Tattletale... after rubbing her eyes, and readjusting her domino mask, flashed a quick 'call me' gesture as she brought her hand back to her lap.

Wasn't that interesting.

I tried following Fake-Coil's car, but the guys inside drove it to a parking garage, changed into street clothes and split up. I kept following one that I thought had probably been the double, but he just got in a taxi went to a hotel downtown. Clearly, Coil's people knew what they were doing. It didn't matter- I'd seen them, now. I could find them again.

But there might be other options.

----

a/n: this took way longer than it should have but I kept discarding versions that just weren't working. I'm still pretty ambivalent about kinda speeding through the whole 'Taylor gets a fake ID' thing but, like, is her fixing her homelessness situation really that interesting when it's really not that hard for her to steal cash? I'm choosing to assume that a city with as many crooks as Brockton has some bespoke identity theft providers, idk.

feel like I had something else maybe to say but I can't think of it right now so... anyway. Enjoy!Lisa had been having just a monumentally awful week, and things were not looking up for the near future. Coil was losing it, something she might normally enjoy seeing, but in this case his continued inability to deal with Elementalist- no, Decima- wasn't just making him angry it was affecting his judgment. Making him more likely to lash out.

Thus, his ill-fated attempt to recruit the other villains to go after her. Lisa didn't need her power to know that the Empire would be interested. And she didn't need her power to know that nobody else cared. But it was a bad play- no matter how he tried to sell it, it made Coil look desperate. And she'd had a feeling that that might not bode well for her, in the long run.

And that was before the girl in question had crashed the party and exposed Coil's body double.

That, at least, had been funny- or it would have been if she hadn't been a little worried that Lung might take offense and start trying to roast everyone.

And if she wasn't still trying to figure out what the hell was going on with Taylor Hebert.

Coil had given her Elementalist/Decima's PRT file already, but the girl she'd read about had been nothing like the person who had showed up at Somer's Rock.

Not that she'd actually been there physically.

She hadn't been able to get much from the projection itself, but the girl's voice had given her clues aplenty. She'd drawn some interesting/unsettling conclusions:

Firstly: Hebert hated the Empire. Like, she hate hated them to a scary degree- and there was nothing in her file that Lisa had seen to suggest why.

Secondly: She believed that Coil had tried to kill her, and was very very angry about it. Murderously angry.

Thirdly: Not only was Decima absolutely set on killing Coil- along with the entire Empire, can't forget that part!- but she was absolutely confident that she could.

She'd also ignored the other villains completely, dismissing them- even Lung- with an off-hand remark. She'd walked- figuratively- into that room, trashed Coil's scheme, made him look weak, and put him and the Empire on notice like it was nothing.

It was hard to square that kind of confidence with the bullied social outcast she'd read about. Unless the girl had one hell of a power- or powers.

The phrase 'Alexandria package' was tossed around a lot, in the cape scene. Looking at Decima, Lisa had come up with a new one, one she was honestly a little nervous to even think:

Eidolon package.

And that was the kind of thing you changed plans for. She could only hope that Hebert had noticed her little hand signal.

The meeting had definitely not improved Coil's mood- he'd practically jumped down her throat when she'd tried to talk to him about the distraction job he'd demanded the Undersiders pull. Lisa might not have the most self-restraint when it came to needling people, but she liked to think she knew when she was on thin- no, make that melting ice.

The bank job itself had been almost a catastrophe- Coil sending Circus and Trainwreck had been the only thing that had gotten them out of there, and that was mostly because Glory Girl had wasted too much time turning Trainwreck's suit into scrap metal- at least the giant Tinker showing up had saved Lisa trying to talk down the flying prom queen and her fucked-up foster sister all by herself.

The whole thing had been a spectacular screw-up, and she was taking a lot of the blame- as if it was her fault she hadn't immediately noticed Panacea.

Letting Trainwreck get captured was a blot on the Undersiders' reputation as escape artists, and that pissed her off- worse was the fact that Faultline clearly knew about it.

Finding out that Ms. Thinks-She's-So-Smart Mercenary was actually scared of Decima had been one of the few bright points in her life lately, but the realization that Coil had used the chaos at the bank as cover to abduct a little girl and she hadn't caught it... that stung. There was absolutely nothing she could do for the kid- who had to be some kind of powerful Parahuman, obviously. And just knowing that Coil had played her didn't feel great.

But if the Alcott girl had been supposed to help Coil fix the Decima problem, it clearly hadn't worked the way he wanted it to. Since then, he'd been angrier than ever- he'd even put a million dollar bounty out on Decima.

Everything her power was telling her about him made him seem like he could snap at any time, and Lisa held no illusions that she would be anything other than collateral damage if, or more probably, when that happened.

Plus, Grue was still mad at her about the bank job, which made Bitch and Regent's tragic excuses for personalities even more unbearable to deal with. All in all, it was more than enough to get under her skin.

She wasn't quite at the point of hot-wiring a car and just hitting the interstate- one, she'd probably have to burn all her assets and start again from scratch in a new city; two, Coil would never let her go, which meant that she'd never feel completely safe no matter how far she ran; and three, it would mean admitting defeat... which just bothered her.

It made her feel trapped.

So she was taking the day off- retail therapy might be trite, but just because it was a cliche didn't mean it didn't work, at least sometimes.

Just a few hours where she didn't have to think about any of this shit.

She'd gone out for a nice brunch- eating alone was a little sad but at least it got her out of the apartment- and then spent the next several hours thinking about nothing more significant that the things she wanted to buy.

Maybe that was why it took her so long to realize she was being followed.

The girl was wearing a dark trench coat, and a purple hoodie with the hood pulled up- a Tattletale color, was that a sign?- and she was pretty good. Lisa had only caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of her eye as she walked out of a wanna-be-trendy boutique when her power informed her that she had seen that same person already today- and that she was following her, and had been for at least an hour.

Lisa froze- just for a second, she was good at covering things like this- and then continued on her way like nothing was wrong. She strolled down the street without a care in the world, stopping briefly to look in a store window- and catch another glimpse of her pursuer.

Body language has changed, reacting to something; reacting to me, reacting changes in my emotional state

Knows I've become agitated, knows agitation stems from realization I'm being followed, knows I've spotted her; knowledge derived from use of power

Not planning violence, prepared for violence, doesn't think I would hurt her, doesn't think I could hurt her

Looking for me specifically, wants something; knows I'm Tattletale.

Lisa dug in her purse for her cell phone, still trying to look casual. Glancing around, she spotted a cafe further down the street and walked to it.

Any kind of restaurant was good- servers were always paying attention to the crowd. Normally causing a scene in a crowd just made you someone else's problem, but a restaurant needed to attract and retain customers, so the staff was generally willing to step in unless things got violent.

Lisa walked into the cafe and made a beeline for the empty table farthest from the door, taking a seat where she could see the entrance and smiling reflexively at the waitress who came over and handed her a menu. The store wasn't that crowded- it was a little too late for the lunch rush- but that just meant it would be more noticeable if anyone tried anything.

She pulled out her phone. Call Brian, or call Coil?

Her pursuer walked into the coffee shop, throwing back her hoodie.

Taylor Hebert's face lit up in a wide smile when she saw Lisa, and she waved cheerfully and started walking over.

Lisa stared.

Taylor draped her coat over the back of the chair opposite Lisa, and sat down, still smiling. Just another teen girl, meeting a friend.

"Hi," Lisa said, gathering herself. "This is unexpected."

"You never gave me your number," Hebert shrugged.

Brockton Bay native, 15-20+ years old; body language inconsistent, doesn't carry herself like a teenager

Confident, feels she is in control of the situation

Aware of my emotional state, feeling empathy towards me, subconsciously projecting based on past trauma: social isolation, feelings of helplessness

Wants to help me but willing/prepared to harm me

Doesn't feel threatened by me, doesn't know details of my power; doesn't feel threatened by Parahumans generally, considers herself above other Parahumans.

"Sorry about that," Lisa rallied. "I assumed you would try PHO. Or maybe just asking around."

"I don't like computers," Hebert said.

Computer Science had been her best subject at Winslow, according to her records.

"How did you find me?" Lisa had to ask.

Hebert smirked. Smugly.

Considers finding me trivial, has a power that allows her to locate people, power has not allowed her to locate Coil; power only allows her to locate people under specific circumstances, possibly only people she has seen before.

"Okay, why did you find me," Lisa said. "Here and now, I mean."

"I thought you might feel safer in a public place," Hebert said calmly.

"You thought approaching me out of costume would make me feel safe?" Lisa asked incredulously, before she could stop herself.

"How often are you wandering around dressed up without the rest of your friends around?" Hebert asked rhetorically. "I'm not interested in meeting them. And if I did just show up, how long would it have taken you to realize that I can find you like this. Better to be up front. I know what you look like. I know where you live. I can find you, whenever I want. And I will not use that against you. Will not harm you. Will not betray you. Unless you betray me first."

Telling the truth, wants to deal fairly with me, aware of unwritten rules, feels contempt for the concept, feels contempt for norms of cape culture in general;

Wants allies, lonely;

Non-native English speaker, suppressed French accent slipping into speech, socially confident, believes she can convince me, subconsciously protective towards me, based on perceived resemblance to younger relative/daughter/mentee/student figure? Perceives me as younger, not conscious of association, still prepared to harm/kill me;

"That's not as reassuring as you maybe think," Lisa said shakily, mind racing as her power outlined all the ways that Hebert's personality and mannerisms had abruptly changed. She almost would have thought the girl had been Mastered- actually, she still wasn't 100% ruling it out- except that it had happened basically mid-sentence with no sign of hesitation or confusion. So they would have had to know what Hebert was talking about, be willing to let her start the conversation before taking over- which, why- and be able to take control instantly without interrupting the flow of the conversation.

It was subtle- Lisa might not have noticed immediately without her power- but Hebert had become increasingly confident, adult, and socially adept compared to the girl who had initially sat down. Not to mention picked up that hint of an accent.

If she didn't know better, she would almost believe that Alec was fucking with her. But the accent wasn't the same as Alec's, and even his power wasn't this smooth.

And there was just something about her- something in Hebert's eyes, unchanged in spite of everything else.

Power.

Lisa flinched- she controlled it as best she could, but something about Hebert's stare made her skin crawl for a moment.

"You'd prefer a comforting lie?" Hebert asked- Lisa didn't even need her power to know how Hebert felt about that. She shook her head.

"I'm just surprised," Lisa admitted. Normally she would have hated the idea of showing weakness like this- admitting ignorance stung. But in this case, Hebert was both already sympathetic toward her and very clearly not interested in playing games. She'd been honest. So would Lisa- to a point, obviously.

"So why do you hate Coil so much?" Hebert asked, after a moment- sending Lisa briefly spiraling as she tried to decide if Hebert had meant to suggest the existence of her emotion-reading power or not. Thankfully, she was spared having to answer right away when a waitress appeared to take their order.

Lisa ordered coffee. Hebert had tea.

They stared at each other in silence, as the waitress walked away from the table.

"I work for him," Lisa admitted. "We all do- the Undersiders. I'm the only one who knows who our boss actually is. I'm also the one he recruited by sending a team of minions to grab me off the street at gunpoint."

"And do you know why he wants me dead?" Hebert asked.

"I'm pretty sure you're glitching his power," Lisa told her.

"Interesting," Hebert leaned back in her chair. "But not yours, obviously."

"You don't even know what my power is," Lisa protested.

"You named yourself Tattletale," Hebert said wryly. "Plus, if your power had just failed, I'd think you'd be more nervous. So, what is it?"

"What?"

"Your power," Hebert said.

"What's yours?" Lisa shot back.

"Fair enough," Hebert replied, giving her that same irritating smirk. "Have you thought about what you'll do after I get rid of Coil? You said he forced you to work for him. Once he's gone you could go back to your life."

"I- I'm not going to worry about that until it happens," Lisa said. If it ever did.

"Hm," Hebert looked at her. "I have. I can get rid of Coil and the Empire, but that's only part of this city's problems." She paused as the waitress returned, depositing their drinks on the table. Hebert took a sip of her tea before continuing. "I've been thinking that maybe there shouldn't be any Parahumans in Brockton at all, unless I give them permission to be here. Like it or not, supervillains are a fact of life now. Which means someone needs to run this city."

Hebert leaned back in her chair, smiling smugly as she looked Lisa up and down.

"Interested?"

Lisa felt her mouth curving into her familiar grin.

"Let's talk," Lisa said.

-----

a/n: Perhaps you've read a story where Lisa appears out of nowhere and just inserts herself into the narrative? Because, what if the opposite of that. Plus, also, a Lisa POV chapter to get an outside view of our protagonist using her power to convey some exposition. I bet nobody's ever thought of either of those things before.

(I do think that it works for the story here, plus it amused me to do it)

I also hope that mentioning the existence of the Bank Robbery isn't too stations-of-canon-y for anyone, but I figured that Coil would still want Dinah and since I didn't want Taylor to be aware of that immediately, writing up a new chain of events felt unnecessary- though, lacking Skitter, Coil did send some more reinforcements which meant that events went a bit differently.

I think there's only been maybe 1-2 allusions to the fact that Taylor occasionally adopts past life mannerisms without knowing it.

Think that's it, hope you enjoy this.