Mitosis 2.4
April 10, 2011
Now that I had breached the aquifer, I ran into the opposite issue of what I had been dealing with a few days ago. Instead of running out of space to store biomass, I was now in desperate need of more. The Womb was secure if cramped, but I didn't have much room to set up any projects down here yet.
I had sent out tendrils from the Womb in every direction to get a feeling for how deep the aquifer was, and it appeared that it was about twenty feet from top to bottom in the chamber I was filling. This chamber, of course, was connected to dozens of chambers – some smaller, some larger– and twisting passages which mostly led in the direction of the Bay.
The aquifer was larger than I had imagined, but it made sense – who knew how many thousands of years water had been pushing through natural voids and small fissures in the rock for. I would need to expand in a big way to even partially fill the aquifer, but that was a longer term goal. Filling a few chambers would do for the time being, and I knew just the place to get the biomass I needed to do so.
The local park was deserted as always, despite the fact that it was mid-morning with clear skies overhead. I stood fully suited up before a massive, gnarled willow. It had to have been decades, if not over a century old. I apologized mentally to the tree before I created a hole in my suit and touched one hand to the tree's rough bark, forcing it to change.
The tree lost much of its structure and visibly sagged, seeming to almost 'deflate'. I stepped back right before the tree collapsed into a giant heap on the ground. Before it could begin to die, I touched it again and forced it to reform into a new shape. Its roots pulled out of the ground and it constricted onto itself as it became increasingly rectangular, its surface twisting and constricting as I watched. I built increasingly large organs within it to create the proteins necessary to develop muscles, and when I decided that process was going too slowly, I punctured the former tree with a needle and injected a mixture of calcium and various slow-to-produce organic compounds directly into it.
I didn't really have a 'blueprint' in my head for how to make an actual biological vehicle with functional wheels and everything else, but my power rushed to give me ideas on how to create something that looked close enough and performed what amounted to the same role.
My original idea was to shape the biomass into the shape of a generic Ford pickup truck, but I quickly realized that I had far, far too much biomass for that to work. I paused my work on the 'truck' and formed the rest of the biomass into the shape of a small camper. I connected it to the truck and after a bit more work, all the biomass had been used up.
On the surface, the truck looked like a black Ford pickup truck from the nineties. One of its 'tail lights' was shattered, and it had a few dents and bumps on it. Closer inspection revealed the vehicle's black coating to be made of large, thick plates of chitin. The windows were made of a clear, quick-setting resin, held in place by layers of biofilm. The vehicle had wheels, although they were entirely decorative and did not generate any force. Instead, at least a dozen large pairs of sharp, centipede-like legs were tucked underneath the vehicle.
The camper was similarly designed but a bit less detailed, as its interior was at least half-filled with biomass and mostly inaccessible. I shifted around the biomass inside, created an entryway, and stepped into the camper, where I promptly deposited my suit. I shifted a bit of extra biomass to Julia to extend it to cover my entire face except for the panes of my glasses, stopping to tuck my hair within Julia as well. A thought struck me and I formed some more of the biomass into a facsimile of a worn wool beanie, a leather jacket, and a ripped pair of jeans. It was uncomfortably warm with my underclothes, Julia, and the organic mock-clothes on all at once, but this disguise was only temporary.
I closed the door to the camper behind me once I was done and walked back to the driver's side of the pickup truck. The park was still empty, but I was starting to feel confident that this disguise would work. I opened the 'car' door, and grimaced at the strange squelching sound that the action caused.
The interior wasn't as bad as I had feared. It looked almost normal, with seats made of a similar spongy material as the one used in the Womb, but colored a light gray. I closed the door behind me and noticed the unbearable humidity inside the cab, then frowned at the fact that I hadn't designed windows that were able to open and close.
I could have figured out a way to do it using my powers with some thought, but I had already wasted enough time on this. I had other things to do today, after all.
I was initially worried that it would be difficult to control, considering that I had never driven a car before. However, it was a bit more like riding a horse instead – if that horse had many pairs of legs and required mental commands to not start squirming around blindly the second it was brought out of its dormant state.
It would probably end up badly if I lost control of this thing. With that in mind, I sent it out of the park and through the neighborhood at a surprisingly fast pace, following the traffic laws that I was able to remember to the best of my ability.
I passed only one car on the way to my home, and the driver didn't seem to react. Hopefully that meant the disguise worked. It was very difficult to turn corners with this thing, and I may have knocked over a mailbox or two while I was driving.
I parked it on the street near my home's driveway, and checked in every direction for observers. Once I was confident that I was truly alone, I drove it through the side yard and began the process of reverting it all back to raw biomass. I was left with a long, pancake-shaped blob stretching at least twenty feet, with my unoccupied suit sticking out of the lump of biomass.
I rushed into my home through the back door and down into the basement, sliding open the tiny window near the top of the basement as quickly as I could. I took hold of some of the Womb's biomass and forced it to extend into a long, thick rope. I threw as much of the rope as I could up and out of the basement window before I sprinted back up the stairs.
I found the coil of rope-like substance from the Womb and connected it to the giant blob of biomass I had collected. This was the tricky part; I had to change the genetic makeup of my new biomass to be compatible enough to be accepted by the Womb. It took a few minutes of nerve-wracking work, but I got it all done before anyone disrupted me.
I concentrated on the biomass, and it began to split into tens, no, hundreds of writhing tentacles. Each and every one of them, connected to one another at the ends, began flooding into the basement. I heard the sound of crashing and clunking from below, and frowned as I imagined how much of a mess I had most likely made in the basement.
I hurried over my suit and clambered into it, not caring to let it fully seal me inside before I had it moving back into the house and down the stairs, merging my disguise into it as I went.
As expected, the basement was a bit of a disaster zone. Tools, knick-knacks, and boxes stuffed with forgotten things were littered across the floor. I checked to make sure the biomass was being stored properly in the Womb, and that its structural supports were not buckling. I would be able to use the biomass to expand once I was a bit less busy.
Once I was satisfied, I spent the next hour or so cleaning up the basement and making it look somewhat presentable again. My suit sped the process up significantly, but I still lost track of time trying to organize everything and make it neat.
I left the suit in the basement and went up to my room once I realized what time it was. I booted up the old computer on the desk and sighed when I remembered why I never used it anymore. One of – if not the only – benefits of attending Winslow was access to relatively modern computers and a decent internet connection. Our house had barely functional dialup, and my computer itself was battered and ancient.
Eventually, it managed to boot up. I opened up the browser and typed in PHO's web address. A message immediately greeted me in large text:
Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.
You are not currently logged in.
Would you like to log in or create an account?
I froze as I realized it was possible that I could be tracked if my account was traced back to this address. Then, I thought it out a little more, and remembered that the public libraries in the Bay had surveillance cameras out in front of them. The safest place to create an account may have been Winslow, ironically enough, although it would have tied me to my Trigger Event an awful lot more than I was comfortable with.
I didn't have any good options. I couldn't afford a phone, I didn't have any powers that would help me with computing, and I didn't trust anyone to set up a secure connection for me.
Hesitantly, I selected the option to create an account, and went through the process. I was thankful that my Cape name wasn't taken by another user, and I quickly managed to sign up as an Unregistered Cape. I sent a friend request to Vista, Dragon, and Miss Militia. Dragon was the first to accept, and I received a message notification soon afterward.
-
♦ Private Messages from Dragon (Verified Cape):
Dragon (Verified Cape): Welcome to PHO, Placenta. Just to make sure that this is really you, can you tell me about what we discussed last week?
Placenta (Unverified Cape): Hi Dragon. I don't know if I should repeat what we talked about, it was pretty personal. Without going into too much detail, we discussed me making a future visit to your home. Oh, we also talked about NEPA 5, or whatever it's called. Is that good enough?
Dragon (Verified Cape): Yes, that will do. I'll make sure to get in touch with the site's moderation on your behalf and ensure you get verified. Have you had a good week, Placenta?
Placenta (Unverified Cape): Thank you Dragon! And yes I have. I've been busy working on some projects. By the way, can you let Miss Militia know I'll be ready to meet with her in an hour? We can meet at the PRTHQ, but my costume will look a little different from last time.
Dragon (Verified Cape): I'll make sure to do that as soon as possible, and you're welcome 🙂. What sort of projects are you working on, if I may ask? I've been working on a few of my own – the containment foam production facilities near Austin are overdue for an expansion, and it's been the focus of my attention for much of this morning.
Placenta (Verified Cape): Don't worry about my projects, Dragon. None of them can self-replicate, feel emotions, or have complex thoughts in general. We can talk more about the specifics of my projects and plans once we get the chance to meet in person. Did you get a response from Miss Militia yet?
Placenta (Verified Cape): Woah, that was fast. I'm already verified!
Dragon (Verified Cape): Yes, the moderators on PHO tend to be very quick to respond. I'm very glad to hear you're being responsible with your powers. Self-replicating constructs, organic or not, are very dangerous, and are banned for a good reason. Your other self-imposed restrictions seem reasonable as well. About Miss Militia, it appears she's off duty for the next few hours. Armsmaster is present, however, and wanted me to ask you to come in early so that he can talk with you beforehand.
Placenta (Verified Cape): Sounds good. I need to start preparing to meet him, in that case. Thanks for the help with all this. Maybe we can talk more later?
Dragon (Verified Cape): Of course, Placenta. I'll let Armsmaster know you're on the way.
-
I sighed and turned the computer off. I thought I'd have more time to work on my suit; I wanted to change up its appearance a bit, now that I wasn't specifically going up against a fire-breathing regenerator. I'd have to keep my changes more minor than I originally intended.
I bounded down two sets of stairs and started making changes to my suit.
By the time I was done, the suit no longer had translucent skin and scales. They were replaced by smooth, dark, patterned skin similar to a seal's. Underneath this skin were multiple layers of blubber separated by layers of tiny hemispheres of bone, set in place by larger sheets of bone which increased in thickness in vital areas to provide a formidable defense against direct physical blows. Both the blubber and the bone plates served as shock absorbers; it was better to let any potential attacker expend energy damaging or destroying things that could be easily fixed or replaced than to let them damage something actually vital.
Underlying all of them was a special layer that was exceptionally tricky to make. One of the tungsten rods had been cannibalized for the task, and it had proven to be more than enough material for me to work with. The tungsten was formed into a chain mail which covered the suit's body practically head to toe, providing a back-up layer of defense to any exceptionally strong conventional attacks. A second half-inch thick layer coated the outside of the protective core within my suit; the tungsten shell was divided into quarters along almost imperceptible seams in order to allow me to escape the suit's core if need be. Just about the only part of the suit that had remained the same was its outfit of furs and its skull.
I spent too much time working on these details, and gasped when I checked the clock. I rushed out of the house and headed south.
My suit's upgraded legs pounded against the asphalt below as I raced south along Lord Street. When riding in the back of the PRT van, it was easy to underestimate just how long it took to get across the city. The PRTHQ was already decently far from where I lived, but it was also separated from my home by the Bay itself, forcing me to arrive via a circuitous route.
Somehow, I managed to get there with time to spare. I skidded to a stop a few dozen feet away from the entrance to the PRTHQ, my suit's hands on its hips as I stopped to allow the suit to recover. I looked around me and realized that there were a fair few people out and about, and some of them were recording.
Way to go, idiot. You messed up your first impression.
I waved awkwardly to some of them in an attempt to salvage my botched public appearance, then made my way into the PRTHQ's lobby. As soon as I entered, one of the PRT troopers standing next to the entrance got my attention. He handed me an ID card which had a picture of my suit's 'face' printed next to the word 'GUEST' in large black letters.
I wasn't quite sure what to do with it, so I decided to just stick it to the front of my suit and secured it in place with a few quickly grown strips of translucent skin. Once that was taken care of, I followed the trooper as he led me to a meeting room similar to the one I had been in last week. Thankfully, I didn't have to wait as long as last time, as Armsmaster entered the room and addressed me within half a minute.
"It's good to see you again, Placenta," He began, "But there is a problem we both need to deal with, before anything else can be discussed."
I was a bit disappointed that he didn't react to my suit's new design, but I didn't let it show.
"What problem? What do I have to do with this?" I asked nervously.
"I'll show you," He said evenly, "I've been assigned to find a way to deal with this, and I know that you would like to know about the situation, and possibly be able to help. I apologize for the secrecy."
He gestured for me to stand and follow him, and I obliged. We glided through the twisting maze of hallways – left, right, then right again – which led us to a different elevator from the one I had used during my previous visit. He paused for a few moments, likely using his visor to communicate again, and the elevator opened up in front of us.
We both stepped in, and he entered another code into a small touchscreen present within the elevator. I studiously pretended not to watch him type it in. Options to ascend and descend to floors not publicly available popped up on the touchscreen, and I watched with curiosity as he selected an option titled 'Containment II'.
The elevator doors opened to reveal a single hallway lined with rooms vaguely resembling prison cells. Each and every cell was upgraded with different kinds of Tinkertech, creating an interesting series of visual effects as I followed Armsmaster down the hallway.
We came to a stop in front of a room labelled 'C-204'. What was this about? Did the Protectorate catch another villain, and need me to put them back together? No, if that was the case, Armsmaster wouldn't be acting this secretive. Unless, maybe they had mutilated a villain? I hoped not. I wasn't inclined to help the Protectorate cover up their mistakes and secrets.
Armsmaster punched a combination into a keypad and a thin blue forcefield in front of the door flickered out of existence. The door itself slid open a few seconds later. To my surprise, I saw Lung sitting in a metal chair behind a small table. His face displayed intense concentration as he flipped through a small magazine with a Japanese sports car on the cover. He had no costume nor even a domino mask, and he was dressed in a plain red jumpsuit.
I waited for him to notice me and inevitably start growing, for his emotions to boil over and force me into another fight. I prepared to throw myself to the left, allowing Armsmaster to take him head on while I would blind-side Lung.
Instead, Lung looked up, saw the two of us, and began to speak.
"Hi again, Armsmaster. Hi, new person. My name's Kenta, it's nice to meet you!" He said with a bright, innocent smile spread across his face.
-
A/N 2:
In this chapter, Taylor steals a tree, commits vehicular manburger helper, and finally confronts Lung.
I laughed my ass off reading all of you guys talking about Taylor making a car, this was one of the original scenes I wrote before posting the story. Taylor doesn't even really have a reason to do this, there are so many better ways, but she wants a ride.
This isn't the end of her experimentation with vehicles -- it's the beginning.
I want to make the Dragon section look pretty like it does on my Google Docs file, but I'm not sure how to format it here.
Also, don't worry about the backlog. I still have ~10k words in 3 chapters left in it. This Piggot interlude I'm writing keeps getting longer, but I should be able to start on arc 3 afterward. I already have the first half of the arc planned out decently well.
Sorry for the rambling, thanks for reading and commenting as always!
Mitosis 2.5
April 10th, 2011
"So…" I began awkwardly, "What are our options?"
Lung- no, Kenta, was distracted once again by his magazine and treated us like we weren't there. After the excitement of meeting a new person had worn off, he had gotten bored quickly and lost interest in me. He flipped through the pages slowly, occasionally making excited-sounding noises when he saw a picture of a car that he was interested in.
Armsmaster frowned, "We have three ways to deal with this situation. Option one, which I disagree with, is to send him to the Birdcage. His list of crimes more than warrants it. That being said, I… cannot condone sending him there in his current condition. It would be tantamount to an execution."
I nodded passively in agreement as he continued speaking, "Option two is to send him to a Parahuman Asylum – the one in Philadelphia, most likely. They would monitor him and try to help him improve, but it's unlikely he would leave for years, if ever, if we put him in there. The lack of improvement we've seen from him since he awoke hasn't been promising."
"And the third option?" I asked.
"Use your powers," Armsmaster said, "Figure out some way to improve his condition. I believe you would have already restored his memories fully if you were able to, but perhaps there is another way?"
"Are you sure that's necessary?" I asked Armsmaster, "He might still be able to form new memories; wouldn't it be wrong to use my powers to solve this?"
"Maybe you are underestimating the severity of the situation. When Lung first woke up, he didn't know the year he was born in, who the President was, or the country he lived in. He didn't know his own name until we told it to him -- we still haven't figured out his last name. He has shown little ability to retain new information unless repeatedly exposed to it, and has showed no signs of regaining any lost information," Armsmaster said seriously.
I frowned. If Kenta's condition was really that bad, I could see why Armsmaster would want me to try and help. Most of my ideas to fix Lung would get me a kill order, and none of them were very palatable for someone like Armsmaster. I still had a rule against working on brains, but this was an extreme case. I still remembered what I had seen of Lung's brain after the fight. Without my intervention, he would probably never recover. I briefly wondered if it was my fault that Lung was in this condition, but it honestly didn't matter at the moment.
I decided to suggest the least invasive option that came to my mind.
"Most of his higher reasoning abilities were lost, along with practically all of his memories. A lot of the connections in his brain – stuff like preferences and aversions – are still there, but there's nothing… tying them together. He has no identity. Maybe we could provide him one?"
"What are you suggesting?" Armsmaster asked carefully.
"I'm not saying that we overwrite his neural connections with someone else's. I'm not willing to go that far. However, it may be possible to fill in the gaps in his mind with your assistance. We could only do this in a small amount of vital areas to prevent his identity from being fully overtaken, but I could stimulate neuron reconnection in the remaining gaps."
"Do you realize what you're asking? What makes you think that Lung and I have anything in common? This is a terrible idea." Armsmaster said with an unusually angry tone of voice.
"My first thought was actually to ask Dragon. She's always been level-headed and might be a good influence on him, but putting neural connections from a female into a male's brain seems like a bad idea. You, on the other hand, are around the same age as Lung. You're the same gender. You are both ambitious leaders with dominant personalities. Am I wrong about any of that?" I countered.
"No… I see the logic, although it's flawed. You haven't addressed the obvious yet: Lung is a villain. There's no telling what he could do with the information he might gain through this process. Would it not be safer to just impart skills on him and restore his brain's functionality, or speed along the reconnection of neurons?"
"Right now, Lung is a patient. I'm the one responsible for injuring him in the first place, and you're the one responsible for overseeing his recovery. We can solve this now, with your permission. And no, just transferring skills and speeding up reconnection wouldn't work. Lung's sense of self is basically gone -- it could take decades to rebuild, and altering Lung's age isn't something I'm comfortable doing right now. Like I said, I'm keeping the neural pathways I borrow from you as limited as possible – if this goes right, he should barely know anything. Keep him for observation until you're sure about it, if you have to," I urged him.
"I don't think it's a good idea," Armsmaster said, "But it's wrong to just leave him like this."
"Just consider it," I urged him.
He stood mostly still for almost half a minute, except to bring his armored hand up to stroke his lightly stubbled chin.
"This stays between us," He said suddenly, the intensity in his tone almost making me jump.
"Okay, just a second-" I pushed my left arm out of my suit, "There's the possibility that he remembers more than I expect instead of less. If you're willing to risk that, touch your bare skin against mine."
He frowned, then leaned forward awkwardly. I reached my hand up to touch his jaw, and I was flooded by information as I did a quick scan on him in preparation for a deeper brain scan.
I got both scans done in the span of maybe thirty seconds, and I had only just begun processing the information told to me by the scans. Armsmaster was a fairly normal-looking man for his age, slightly balding and with a few of the typical health issues suffered by men in their thirties and forties. Back pain, minor arthritis in his wrists, and-
"Holy shit, you have a meth addiction?" I asked Armsmaster incredulously.
Once I saw his bewildered expression, I said, "Never mind. We can deal with that later. I have what I need – can you bring Lung over and convince him to touch me?"
Armsmaster sighed and walked over to him before he said in a slightly patronizing voice, "Hello, Kenta. Can you come with me to see our new friend?"
"Okay," He said, then jumped slightly in surprise when he saw my suit.
"Umm, you have an arm sticking out of you, skeleton-man."
"Yes," Armsmaster said patiently, "That's my friend's hand. Can you shake her hand?"
Lung looked like he was deep in thought and maybe even a little afraid of me; he eventually responded after at least ten seconds with "Okay."
The second Kenta took my hand, I put him into a temporary coma. It wouldn't be possible to work on his brain safely otherwise. My suit's arm shot out behind Kenta before he had the chance to fall to the ground, and I carefully set him onto the floor.
"I'm ready, Armsmaster. This will take at least a few minutes," I warned him.
"I will ensure you are not disrupted," He responded seriously.
I put his presence out of my mind, along with anything else that might distract me. I ordered my suit to hold me in place then disconnected it from Julia, further allowing me to concentrate. I put my hand to Kenta's forehead and pushed with my power.
I saw the way his brain was struggling and failing to recover; tentative connections had reached out and begun to reform between different areas of the brain, but it was not nearly enough to undo all the damage. In some ways, the overall damage was worse than I had feared. I would have to compensate.
I pushed further with my power than I had ever tried to go, and closed my eyes in concentration. I could visualize individual connections, every link within Kenta's mind at once. It was an incomprehensible amount of information, but something seemed to be guiding me, stopping me from concentrating on everything all at once.
I looked at the entirety of what remained of Kenta's being. Cicadas chirping in the summer; towering buildings; a faceless woman's warm embrace. Images flashed rapidly in front of me.
This must be Kenta's childhood. The next set of intact memories showed a stunning deluge of water. Winds that ripped trees from the ground and sent cars tumbling away like leaves. Flooding, drowning, growing, hurting. The memories were imbued with hatred at first. I saw haunting views of a shattered island and the monster who had done it. As the focus shifted onto Leviathan, the previous hate turned into fear. Running, fleeing, and so much pain. He had been torn apart by the monster again and again, blinded by massive plumes of scalding steam.
That fear had destroyed Kenta, and the worst part was that he hadn't fought Leviathan to a standstill as people so often claimed. Leviathan had realized that he could not break Kenta's body, so he destroyed his spirit and his homeland instead. Then, once Kenta's will to fight had been broken, Leviathan had gotten bored and simply left.
After that, Lung was born. I was thankful in a slightly twisted way that most of his memories from his time as Lung had been lost. Then again, what I did see was usually fuzzy, lost in a haze of either drugs or despair. He really had been just going through the motions.
I sighed and reached for the 'blueprint' of Armsmaster's mind. His memories were much more complete, of course, and I restrained myself from peering into them as deeply as I had into Kenta's. I still got impressions – a lonely childhood filled with strife, social isolation, and a lonelier adulthood filled with envy and demands from his peers.
I willed Kenta's brain matter to shift in several of the most damaged areas, implanting memories and connections directly copied from Armsmaster's own brain. I skimmed over each memory to make sure it was nothing too embarrassing or personal, and managed to fill in most of the previously unrecoverable areas.
Once that was done, I did two things at once. The first part was to intensify the rate at which Kenta's neurons made connections and strengthened them. The second part was to take a deeper look into the more primal, raw emotions I had felt from him.
His fear of the Endbringers had prevented him from becoming a hero, or from living up to his potential. His hate was weak and unfocused in comparison to his fear. I used his newfound neuroplasticity to overwhelm those old connections with stronger ones – his hatred was better served against the Endbringers. His fear was moderated, and tied mainly to his memories of his time as Lung.
Was it right? No, not necessarily. Was there a right answer to begin with, in this situation?
No answer greeted me, of course.
Kenta's mind was coming back together now, and there was only one portion of his brain left that I had yet to touch. I had thought it was a tumor at first glance, but a closer inspection revealed it to be some kind of… relay. No, relay wasn't the right word. What was this connection called, and where did it lead to?
Shard, the word came to my mind unprompted. I gently probed the connection with my powers, trying to figure out what its source was. I could feel something there, I just knew it. I pushed harder, and saw two incomprehensibly large beings, circling through the void of space. Tiny glittering specks showered from their constantly shifting and churning masses-
I jerked back violently, as if I had been electrocuted. What the fuck was that?
"Are you alright?" Armsmaster's concerned voice cut through my panic.
"Yeah… just, used my power in a different way than normal. I'm fine," I said shakily.
"Did you succeed?" Armsmaster pressed.
"I think so," I responded, "Do you want me to wake him up?"
I needed more time to think about what I had seen. I hadn't actually gotten a full glimpse of what lay beyond the connection in Lung's mind – it felt like my efforts were brushed aside, and that I was instead directed to discover something. What were those things in the vision?
"Yes," Armsmaster grunted, "There's no sense in waiting. It either worked or it didn't."
I nodded and placed my hand on Kenta once again. I willed him to wake up, and stood back when I began to hear him groan in discomfort.
"Urgh… where am I?" Kenta asked.
I reconnected with my suit, then leaned back and stepped away from him.
He looked down and his eyes widened in shock and horror. The Tinkertech ankle monitor which Armsmaster had created chirped and released some kind of sedative into Kenta's system, but it had little effect as he grew two inches.
"Oh my God," Kenta said faintly, staring at his hands.
"Kenta, you need to calm down. We can-" Armsmaster tried to reason, but Kenta cut him off.
"Don't call me that. I… Colin… who am I..? What did you two do to me?" Kenta croaked.
Armsmaster stiffened at the mention of his real name, which I had already learned while analyzing his brain. Kenta slowly raised himself to his feet and took an unsteady step towards Armsmaster.
"What did you do to me!?" Kenta roared, and Armsmaster reached for his halberd.
I stepped between the two of them and raised a hand towards each of them before I called out, "We all just need to communicate. Kenta-no, whatever you're going to go by now, you suffered brain damage after a fight. I was able to partially heal it, but Armsmaster helped me fill in the areas that were too badly damaged to heal. This was the best way."
Kenta looked apoplectic by the time I finished speaking, and he immediately confronted Armsmaster again, "You just couldn't have left things alone, could you. You had to go and test her power's limits. You had to push the boundaries, bend the rules. So clever, so subtle, but you're just a fuck up in the end, like always, Colin. I can't even blame you for this without also blaming myself…"
"I made a mistake," Armsmaster admitted, and the words seemed to age him multiple years, "We'll have to live with the consequences. You're aware of the situation we are both in, of course."
"Yes, I am," Kenta hissed, "You do not need to rub it in. I cannot go home anymore, I cannot talk to Dragon, I cannot go to my lab – I can't even use my power to begin with… You're fucking me over, and you know it."
"Who says you can't do any of those things?" I interjected, "We can figure out a way for you to adapt. You're in a position right now where you can choose to either make the world a better or worse place. You got fucked over, but we need to figure out a path forward."
"I… I do not know. I want to help people, but how much of that is because of what you did?" Kenta visibly struggled to choose the right words.
"Pretty much none of it," I answered honestly, "You always wanted to help people. That's why you fought Leviathan to begin with. But you lost yourself. I'm giving you a chance to find a better way forward. You choose your own actions. I'm not just going to alter your mind if you decide to be a villain once more – though I will try to stop you from committing crimes."
Kenta didn't respond, and Armsmaster had fallen silent, so I continued, "Just think about it… If you agree, you would need to show gradual improvement to the doctors, and hide your ties to Armsmaster for the moment. Once you are 'rehabilitated', our options will expand greatly. If not, then it's up to Armsmaster on what to do."
Kenta sat there silently, considering what to do. He seemed to be weighing his options against one another.
"Bring me my belongings," He said suddenly.
I was shocked into silence, and Armsmaster looked perplexed – well, the lower half of his face did, at least. What kind of belongings were so important that he would personally demand us to retrieve them? Maybe he was going to ask us to pick up duffle-bags of money, or bombs, or maybe it was a codeword that someone in his gang would understand?
Kenta continued to speak before anyone could react, "1320 Fuschia Drive. I enjoyed spending time at that location – I do not remember anything else about that place. Track down my belongings and return them to me. If you bring them to me within the week, undamaged, I'll go along with your stupid little scheme… for now."
We both nodded before Armsmaster told him, "We'll do what we can. I think it would be best if we gave you some time alone, for the time being."
Kenta shrugged and slowly began to shrink back to his normal size, becoming increasingly despondent. Armsmaster turned to walk out of the room, and I moved to follow him.
Before we left the room, I looked over my shoulder and honestly told Kenta, "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," he replied as he glared balefully at Armsmaster's retreating form.
I trailed after Armsmaster as we left Kenta's holding cell. The door slid shut behind us, and he turned to face me.
I sighed wearily and told him, "Well, that could have gone worse."
"How?" He asked with an annoyed tone, "How could that have possibly gone any worse? Actually, no. I don't even want to know. Just… follow me. The Wards are waiting for us; all you have to do is heal them."
"Alright then – also, don't worry about that stuff he wanted. I'll handle it later," I told Armsmaster in a confident tone.
After talking to Kenta and unravelling that whole ethical nightmare of a situation, dealing with the Wards would be a nice change of pace. Maybe I could befriend a few of them? Either way, I was just glad to be done with all the unexpected stress coming to the PRTHQ had caused me today.
---
A/N 2: :rofl: :rofl: :rofl:
Ladies and gentlemen... I present to you...
LUNGSMASTER!
I created this fic because I got tired of reading the same thing over and over again. I don't think this direction has ever been taken, and not even I am sure where it leads.
I personally blame The Shaper for this chapter.
And Armsmaster, why, why must you keep unnecessary secrets? Why do you always do things like this? This is why you didn't 'make Seattle'.
Edit: As for how Taylor is doing this, she's using her biokinesis to analyze Lung's neurons and the signals in them, then forcing them to fire and analyzing the contents. If she burns a few out, it's alright, she can just fix them. She got a little help managing and processing all of this...
Edit 2: I am probably going to come back and rewrite a few things in this chapter, but for now I will just clarify. Lung at the chapter's start has a mind equivalent to a child and it was not getting better any time soon, if at all.
Interlude 2.A: Dean
April 10th, 2011
I checked my phone again for new messages, mostly out of boredom more than anything else. Nothing. The meeting room we were in was crowded a bit beyond capacity, and I frowned at the way the small, uncomfortable steel chair I sat in scraped against my armor every time I tried to adjust myself.
Armsmaster had called each and every Ward to the PRTHQ in the middle of a perfectly peaceful and sunny afternoon, ruining my scheduled date with Victoria before it could even begin. Armsmaster had mentioned the possibility of a sudden meeting happening some time this week, but of course it had to happen at the worst possible time. He had been unusually vague about the purpose of the meeting, and it didn't help that it was even more unusual for the Wards to meet like this anywhere outside of the Wards' common area, or occasionally Director Piggot's office. Vista suspected that the meeting was going to involve an introduction to the Cape that took down Lung, and she was rarely wrong.
I had already begun to regret letting Victoria know via text that I was at the PRTHQ; I was surprised that she hadn't shown up already. She was probably just distracted trying to convince Amy to come along, like usual. I hoped Amy was feeling better than the last time I had seen her.
It was a somewhat common occurrence to get plans ruined as a Ward. It made everything harder – friendships, relationships, even family ties had been strained by my responsibilities.
Victoria understood that struggle in a way that few people were able to. Despite that, I was still expecting some kind of blowback over our date's unfortunate cancellation.
Everyone in the group turned to the door as it suddenly opened to reveal Armsmaster. His emotional aura was alarming: something had caused the color of his aura to change massively compared to the last time I saw him. Guilt, shame, and self-loathing did not paint a pretty picture of what had happened, and I didn't dare to ask.
Despite the turbulent mix of emotions within him, Armsmaster's face remained stubbornly neutral. For all his flaws as a mentor, he had always displayed a remarkable level of control over his emotions.
"Wards," Armsmaster began plainly, "You're gathered here today to meet a new independent hero local to Brockton Bay. On her first ever night out, she captured Lung and several of his lieutenants non-lethally and with limited collateral damage. Her powers are quite expansive; but her specialty is in healing and biology."
At the last part of that sentence, I saw Carlos' aura light up with hope and curiosity. The others' reactions were more muted, although everyone – even Sophia – generally seemed at least a little impressed at the mention of Lung's takedown. Missy had already met the new Cape; she had excitedly told me the story of her and Miss Militia's encounter with the new Cape multiple times to me over the past week.
It had been relieving to see Missy's aura shift to display wholesome respect and admiration during these conversations, and her normal aura had slightly changed as well. I felt guilt at that thought, because most of my relief came from the fact that Missy's new feelings were replacing some of the decidedly less wholesome emotions that she seemed to feel every time I was around.
It was weird. But, she was just going through something normal for someone her age. In a way, I was the weird one for being able to catch such a deep glimpse of her internal thoughts and motivations. It made me feel like a voyeur, as if I was doing something gross just by using my powers. I put the uncomfortable train of thought out of my mind as Armsmaster continued speaking.
"I expect all of you to treat her with respect – it's very important that you make a good impression here. Understood?" Armsmaster asked, although his tone made it clear that he would not be taking any questions.
Everyone sitting around the long metal table in the middle of the room nodded, and Armsmaster paused for a moment. The door to the meeting room slid open again, revealing a hulking figure standing in the doorway. Her suit – and it had to be a suit, because not even Case 53s had appearances this strange – rippled with restrained power at her every movement. She was probably stronger than Aegis and I put together, and had the muscles to prove it.
Most of the suit's skin was hairless and very dark, with speckles of lighter and darker grays in a seemingly random arrangement. The suit's head lacked skin for the most part, and the entire upper half of its skull was exposed for the world to see. Glowing eyes seemed to stare back at me as the new Cape stepped into the room fully, matted dark hair swaying slightly as she moved. It was unsightly, to be honest.
"Hello, Wards. I'm grateful for the chance to meet most of you for the first time, and I'm glad to see you again, Vista. I've picked Placenta for my Cape name, if Vista and Armsmaster didn't already mention it."
I grimaced a bit at that piece of information. Vista had told me already, but I thought she had maybe misheard or misunderstood. What kind of a heroic name was that? When I heard a name like Placenta, I expected it to show up on a list of previous Butcher hosts, not someone who would offer to help the city. It was unnerving and set me slightly on edge, and I wasn't the only one. Reactions around the room were mixed, with most people seeming off-put or disgusted by the name, with only Missy and Sophia seeming unfazed.
"Armsmaster didn't just bring me here to say hi, though. I'm actually supposed to ask you guys if you'd like to volunteer to receive healing. Armsmaster has approved of it already, as well as the Director." Placenta said calmly.
Her aura was odd; muted might be the best way to describe it. Sometimes her emotions would flare up to normal levels, but return back to a baseline a second later. Was it an aspect of her powers? The actual colors of her aura were a great relief to see: curiosity, nervousness, and determination, tinged with a bit of excitement. That was very normal for someone meeting the Wards, especially in a situation with the stakes that this one had.
"So we're guinea pigs?" Dennis spoke up.
"Pretty much," Placenta responded, and I detected a hint of amusement from her, "I'll take volunteers. I'll heal whatever you guys want; ask if you want to keep a scar or something specific like that."
"Remember that this is voluntary, you all have no obligation to accept. That being said, who wants to be healed?" Armsmaster asked.
I didn't need my aura to tell Missy's mood: she was practically vibrating.
"I'll go first! I wanted you to heal me last week, but Miss Militia didn't let me," Missy pouted, "So let's see what you can do."
"Alright, sure. Actually… it'll be inconvenient in this suit. Yeah, I kind of want to stretch my legs. Hold on," Placenta said.
As I watched, the suit slumped to the floor, back against the wall nearest to the door. Its flesh peeled open, revealing the glint of metal intertwined with bone and harder-to-describe structures underneath, all surrounding a core of solid metal. A slice of the metal core fell outwards, and a tall, feminine figure strode out of it.
She looked like she was made of clay, with no eyes, ears, mouth, or nose. Her aura suddenly took on a tinge of annoyance and regret as she tilted her head to the side.
"Hm. It's a bit awkward to talk in this, and I'm sure I look a bit weird. Let me fix that really quick."
As I watched in horrified fascination, she held the palm of her hand to the suit she had emerged from and waited patiently. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, a bubble as large as a dinner plate emerged from beneath its skin. It kept growing and growing until it finally 'burst', although there was no eruption. Instead, the skin simply folded back into itself and merged into the flesh beneath, revealing an ivory comedy mask. She grabbed it deftly and affixed it to her face, where it was quickly anchored into place by her.
"That's better. Let's start, Vista," She said, and as she spoke, the comedy mask moved to match her expression.
I had to wonder about what material the mask was made of that allowed that. Of course, her aura radiated satisfaction and pride. I was slowly gaining the impression that she had the ability to regulate her emotions, and was choosing to suppress her negative emotions while keeping the positive emotions. It was a dangerous path to go down – I know that my powers could theoretically be used on someone in just as harmful a way, but I couldn't help but wonder.
"Sure!" Missy rushed over and held her arm out for Placenta.
"I'm glad you're eager. It shouldn't take too long to heal you, and I won't share any of your health problems out loud. I'm going to get started, alright?" Placenta's aura was still the same as before, except maybe for a building anticipation. Missy nodded, and Placenta gently grabbed the tip of her finger.
However, before Placenta could begin, Missy said, "Also, um… I don't mind my scars. Keep them, please."
Placenta nodded and began her work. I watched as her aura cycled through a variety of emotions – trepidation, then shock, then finally respect and even a little admiration – before everything settled back to normal.
"Can you do me a favor and use your powers while I'm wrapping things up, by the way? It doesn't have to do with the healing process, I'm just curious about something," Placenta asked.
I didn't sense any sign of deceit in her aura, so I didn't object, and neither did anyone else. Missy obliged and affected a small patch of the floor next to her left foot with her power. Placenta was absolutely fascinated, and didn't try to hide it.
"Your power's honestly amazing, Vista. I can't really understand how it all works, but I can see different parts of your brain light up as soon as you use your powers – and not just your Gemma."
Missy's eyes widened and she replied, "Which parts of my brain? It's so cool that you can see all that just by touching my finger – you're like a living MRI."
"Better than an MRI, Placenta smirked, "I can see the entirety of something; the thing itself and all of its parts at the same time. A lot of the time, I don't even have names for the thing I'm working on or changing, but my power just sort of… intuitively helps me understand what to do."
Missy's aura shifted towards a more contemplative mood as Placenta let go of her and stepped back.
"All done," She called to the rest of them, "Who's next?"
"I'll go; I broke my leg jumping off a trampoline when I was eight. Doesn't really hurt unless I twist my leg a specific way, but maybe you can help with that," Dennis offered.
"Sure," Placenta began, "Any specifics about healing? Scars, stuff like that?"
Dennis smiled and leaned in to whisper something into her ear. I only caught the first half of it. 'Can you use your powers to make my-'
A loud slap echoed throughout the meeting room, and although Placenta's aura hadn't shifted towards aggression at all – more towards amusement than anything else – I couldn't help but tense. The others' auras all shifted as Dennis reeled from the slap.
"Don't ask a lady a question like that!" Placenta huffed.
"Okay, okay. Maybe I deserved that one," Dennis admitted, " Can you make my face stop hurting now?"
"Sure thing. I'll assume you have no other specific requests – and by the way, the answer to your other question is no. Also, uh… how am I supposed to heal you, exactly? I can't really touch your skin with your armor on," Placenta complained.
"Oh yeah," Dennis said, embarrassed, "Give me a second, let me lift my mask up a bit."
I caught a flash of annoyance from Armsmaster as Dennis lifted up the edge of his mask and allowed Placenta to touch his jaw. Maybe he was worried about her figuring out the team's weaknesses? It seemed odd for Armsmaster to still have any reservations about sharing information with the new Cape, given that he was letting her effectively scan our biology.
"Hmm… yeah, your tibia didn't heal fully. I can fix it, but it'll feel a little weird during the process. Aside from that, you've got a clean bill of health now. Want me to do the tibia fix?" Placenta asked.
Dennis shrugged, then let out a high-pitched yelp as his leg visibly shifted. It looked extremely uncomfortable, to be honest.
"Hold still, keep your weight off that leg until I'm done," Placenta warned seriously, and Dennis quickly did his best impression of a statue.
Dennis stood there for at least half a minute, balancing more and more precariously, until Placenta finally informed him. "I was done after the first ten seconds. I just wanted to see how long you'd do that for."
I could see Dennis' aura light up with amusement before he replied, "You got me this time. I'll get you back for this, Cape-with-a-freaky-name."
"I'm sure you will," Placenta grinned, "Who's next?"
I stood up and made my way toward Placenta, detaching my left gauntlet as I approached her. Her comedy mask was slightly uncanny this close up, and her oddly muted expressions did little to help the effect. I tried to hide my unease as I thought of how to greet her.
"It's nice to meet you, Placenta, and thank you for offering to heal us. I-" Whatever else I wanted to say was interrupted as the automatic doors to the room slid open.
Victoria flew into the room dressed in full costume, clutching Amy carefully in her arms. She took a second to scan the scene and landed, depositing Amy gently to the ground about six feet from the group. I snuck a glance at her hand and felt my heart start to race. Maybe Placenta could do what the Bacta Tank couldn't?
"Hey, guys. What's up? I heard you Wards had some kind of meeting going on, so I thought I'd drop in. Amy wasn't busy, so I figured I'd drag her along too. Might do her some good to know these things, if she ever actually Triggers – I hope you all don't mind. Anyway, is there something important going on?" Victoria asked, enthusiastic as ever.
"It is against procedure to allow random civilians into classified Protectorate briefings," Armsmaster began, clearly frustrated, "But you already brought her in. You've both seen our guest – I might as well fill you in, and get New Wave up to date on the situation."
"Situation?" Victoria echoed, then cleared her throat, "What's going on?"
Victoria's aura was speckled with concern and doubt, even a bit of fear. Amy's aura… well, it was the same as usual, for better or worse. It was as if every emotion Amy experienced was slightly tinted by pitch black hatred. Sometimes, her emotions became darker, to the point where the pitch black clouded out everything else. I had never seen anything quite like it, and I wasn't sure how to bring it up to anyone without causing more problems than I would solve. At least her colors weren't being dimmed all that much right now.
"There is a new healer in Brockton Bay – perhaps it's better if I let her introduce herself." Armsmaster stated.
Everyone turned to Placenta, who nervously shuffled under the room's combined gazes before she said, "Hi Glory Girl. Sorry I didn't reach out to you sooner. I've been kind of busy working on stuff since the whole 'capturing Lung' thing, and I didn't really think it was a good idea to show up at your house or Arcadia or something looking for you as an unknown Cape because… yeah. Sorry. Anyway, I can grow your fingers back, if you want. Armsmaster already checked; my healing's safe. My name's Placenta, by the way."
Victoria's aura shifted through an array of colors, before finally settling on a bright mix mainly consisting of hope. I watched her closely as her feet left the ground and she sailed directly up to Placenta, her golden locks dancing behind her as she flew.
I noticed that everyone in the room's emotions were starting to drift toward admiration, so I warned her with a simple, "Vicky…"
She gave me an embarrassed look and reined in her power. For some reason, Amy's aura spiked with a surge of dark hatred once I spoke. I didn't even want to know how the term 'Vicky' was enough to earn her ire. She was bad enough before the ambush, but she had become insufferable afterwards.
Victoria had bounced back fine; her forcefield still covered the parts of her body that she had lost. She hadn't really lost any dexterity, but her injury was still a grim reminder of that day. Annoyingly, Amy seemed to take it far worse than Victoria had. It had devastated the girl and brought out all her worst traits. I had seen a lot over the past few months, and it was wearing on me.
Victoria always begged me to just give Amy time, and to understand that she has trauma regarding what happened, and I had listened to her. However, at some point, I had just stopped caring. I had done everything I could for the girl, Victoria had been the model of an older sister, and everyone else gave her whatever she pleased. Instead of being grateful, she still lashed out almost constantly with this hatred.
It was so very frustrating. I had questions about what happened between the three of them that day, but she always clammed up every time I tried to ask. We had actually broken up over it twice, but things settled down after we agreed not to mention it for the time being. I couldn't figure out how to help Amy if I didn't know why she was acting this way – that was the bottom line.
"Does it cost money? What do you want in exchange for healing?" Victoria asked, a bit of desperation seeping into her tone.
"Nothing," Placenta said happily, "Even if I charged for healing Capes, I'd give it to you for free, Glory Girl. You help the city, and I'm down with that. Just try not to lose any more fingers."
"I don't plan to. So… are you a new Ward, or what?" Victoria tilted her head slightly.
Missy interrupted, "Nope. She's kinda like you guys, in a way. Now that she's registered as an independent hero, she'll still be able to help both our teams out every now and then."
"Cool… so, fingers?" Victoria asked impatiently.
Placenta sighed and led Victoria over to her suit. Amy followed the pair closely behind, her aura a mix of suspicion, hope, and envy that made me queasy to look at.
"Hold your hand out; I'll fix you up. Do you want to keep any scars? I know some people like to-"
"Nah, it's all good," Victoria interrupted, "Go ahead. I'm as ready as I'll ever be."
Placenta reached a hand over to her suit's interior and a glob of flesh roughly the size of a tennis ball gathered in it, mostly consisting of meat and chunks of white bone. She grabbed Victoria's wrist with the other hand, and I watched Victoria's aura shift to include disgust and fear as Placenta fused the mass into her hand.
It twitched and began to lengthen into two distinct tendrils while the rest of it began to form into the shape of her palm. I saw the bone chunks dissolve and reform within the tendrils, creating every individual bone that had been destroyed within her hand.
"This next bit will feel weird, please try to keep still," Placenta warned.
Victoria grimaced and tried not to jerk away as I heard a tiny pop come from her hand. Thin sheets of keratin formed on the end of the pair of tendrils and shaped into fingernails. The tendrils thickened and shortened until they resembled the rest of her fingers, before a thin layer of flawless pale skin grew to cover the new fingers.
"Um, I kind of copied the fingers from your other hand, and just sort of reversed them. I hope everything's hooked up alright; I haven't really tried to regrow fingers or limbs before…" Placenta trailed off.
Victoria stared down at her hands in awe, then rushed forward and picked Placenta up. She swung her around in the air within a tight embrace, and I felt Placenta's aura swell with alarm and a bit of exhilaration.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!," Victoria cried before she set Placenta down, realizing how crushing of an embrace she had actually given the girl.
I was distracted from the touching moment by a rising swell of hatred from Amy's direction. Her aura was nearly out of control, and I frowned. I began to hear an audible scratching noise faintly coming from the wall behind me.
Suddenly, Placenta jerked her head to the side and froze. Victoria was distracted testing her newly repaired hand out, and the others were busy speaking to each other quietly about the sudden healing of Victoria.
I was seemingly the only one who noticed as Amy doubled over in pain for just a second, all of the hatred in her aura vanishing for just a moment and being replaced by stark, sudden terror. The terror crystallized as Amy turned as white as a sheet and turned to look at Placenta.
Placenta was already staring directly at her.
"Hmm," Placenta said suddenly, and put a finger to her neck. She lifted her finger to reveal a small brown moth, which was no longer than a quarter-inch. It trembled slightly as she held it up on the end of her finger.
"What is it?" Victoria frowned.
"It's a little moth. Do you know what type it is? I noticed it landed on me, and it's always so interesting to look at the different forms that life can take," Placenta said with an inscrutable tone of voice.
"I… I'm not sure. Amy likes insects, maybe she knows," Victoria confessed, her aura showing a bit of confusion – still mostly overshadowed by joy, of course.
"Does she?" Placenta asked calmly, and took a few steps until she was standing in front of Amy, who looked like she was about to start crying, "Tell me, Amy. Do you know what kind of moth this is?"
"U-umm…" Amy stuttered, "A… house moth? N-not sure what species? P-"
Placenta interrupted her, "Oh yeah – they're pests, aren't they? I've had plenty of clothes in my closet ruined by these things. Well… what do you think, Amy? Should I kill it, or should I let the little moth fly away?"
Amy stood frozen in horror, unable to speak. Her aura was cycling through emotions too rapidly for me to make much out.
"Hey, it's just a moth," Victoria interjected, "You should let it fly off."
"Y-yeah," Amy said weakly, "Let it live… please."
Suddenly, the little brown moth stopped shaking, and it dropped halfway to the ground before it glided towards the corner of the room. Amy's aura surged with relief and she visibly gasped.
"What's wrong, Amy?" Victoria asked suddenly, noticing how pale Amy had become.
"I-I don't feel too well," Amy muttered, and Placenta smiled at her.
Placenta's aura did not reflect the kindness that her smile should have indicated.
"Oh no, are you alright? Would you like me to heal you?"
"N-no! Umm, that's okay. I just need to rest. Vicky, m-maybe we should go?" Amy begged.
"Well… alright, Ames. Thank you so, so much, Placenta… I don't know how to repay you. Just let me know if you need anything, any time, alright?" Victoria offered.
"Hmm… you could repay me by hanging out with me sometime, maybe we can get coffee. You should bring Amy, too – it'll be nice to chat with more people around my age," Placenta said, and I detected the set of emotions which indicated deceit edge into her aura.
"Sure, that sounds great! Maybe you can help my Dad out too, when you get the chance. Anyway, we'll talk more later. Thanks again!" Victoria scooped up Amy and launched towards the automatic doors, waiting impatiently for them to open. Five seconds later, and the pair of them were gone as quickly as they had come.
Even after knowing her for this long, it was still surprising sometimes just how full of energy she was. Hopefully Placenta's healing would prove to be a good thing for the two of them in the long run – although whatever had just happened between Amy and Placenta was alarming. Maybe if I got the chance to speak to Placenta alone after all of this, I could confront her about it.
"Is she always like that?" Placenta asked suddenly, once the pair of them were gone.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
Armsmaster answered before Placenta could, "Yes, they are. They are a constant source of… consternation. Despite that, I'm glad things went well between the two of you."
"Yes," Placenta said simply, "Who was I healing again? Gallant, right?"
Almost five seconds passed before I realized she was talking about me, and I dumbly nodded in response. She walked over and tapped one finger onto the skin exposed on my wrist, humming slightly as she worked.
"Alright, all done. I noticed your power was already active; that's interesting," Placenta confronted me.
"Umm… yeah, it must be a side effect of being a Tinker. Always coming up with new ideas, you know," I chuckled nervously, and started to sweat.
"Okay then," Placenta said suspiciously, and her aura made it clear that she didn't believe a word I said.
I took the chance to flee back to my uncomfortable metal chair, trying my best not to dwell on how much Placenta may have gleaned about my power during her healing attempt.
"Well," She cracked her knuckles, "Who's next?"
Carlos volunteered, but Placenta told him to wait until last, as they would apparently have the most to talk about. Carlos relented, and Chris was selected next instead.
"Well, Kid Win. You seem to be almost completely healthy, but I fixed up some minor issues – you should brush your teeth more often; it's hard for me to fix cavities, just as a warning. Aside from that, there's something I wanted to ask you."
I saw Chris' aura start to fill with worry, and I couldn't help but be worried as well. Was it really worth the healing if this girl was going through the heroes' ranks, learning people's weaknesses and picking them apart? Even if she was offering solutions to their problems, that information had to be dangerous in a new Cape's hands, right?
She leaned forward and said something in a low tone that I couldn't make out. I was sure that his eyes had widened behind his visor in surprise at whatever she had said to him, judging by the colors of his aura.
"Are you sure that there's not gonna be side effects? I mean, not that I don't trust you to use your powers properly, but it's my brain, y'know?" Chris asked in a concerned tone.
"Don't worry, I can keep the changes localized entirely to your parietal lobe. My changes shouldn't impact your memories or thoughts at all, except to fix, you know, that," Placenta tried to reassure him with her words, but I didn't think it had all that much of an effect.
"Okay then… try it. I just hope I don't regret this," Chris gulped as Placenta placed her finger on his jaw for a few seconds, her mask displaying a focused expression.
"Done. Maybe give a bit for your brain to get used to the new way of doing that, but you shouldn't have any problems with it again."
What was Chris' problem, and what was the parietal lobe? Did he have mental issues?
Chris' aura showed that he was concentrating on something, like he was putting the last piece into a puzzle. His aura glowed brightly with hope as he stepped forwards and awkwardly hugged Placenta. She was surprised (and a bit exhilarated, oddly) at the sudden contact, and she awkwardly patted Chris' back with one arm until he pulled away.
"I owe you one," Chris smiled.
"Nah, this is all free. I'm just glad that I can help you out. Well, who's left..? Just Shadow Stalker and Aegis?" Placenta asked.
She seemed a bit tired out by all the healing, judging by her aura, but she didn't let it show as she meandered over to the former vigilante, who reluctantly stood up.
"I don't trust you," Sophia said suddenly, her typical frustration now laced with suspicion.
Placenta tilted her head to the side and said, "If you don't want me to heal you, I won't. If you just want me to scan you for major problems, it shouldn't take more than a second – you know, to make sure you don't have cancer, or a heart condition, or-"
"Just scan me," Sophia practically spat, "Maybe when the other Wards don't turn into zombies or some shit after a few weeks, I'll let you do more than that. Maybe you'll prove you're not just a creep by then."
"Okay…" Placenta trailed off, waiting for Sophia to partially move aside some part of her costume.
Eventually, Sophia scoffed and shifted her mask slightly aside. Both of their auras seemed fairly normal, thankfully, and I was glad that Sophia's bad attitude hadn't spiralled into another incident.
Then, Placenta touched the tips of her finger on Sophia's neck, right underneath where her costume met her mask. Placenta stiffened like a rod, her mask contorted into a snarl. Tsunamis of hate swept forth from her, surging across the room. It made Amy's outburst look shallow in its depth and intensity. Yet, instead of waning, it only grew and grew.
Placenta quickly restored a semblance of normality back to her expression and jerked her arm back away from Sophia. The hate was never-ending. I closed my eyes for a moment; I had to look away, as the strength of her emotions threatened to drown me within them.
"It looks like you've broken your nose," Placenta said in a tone which struck fear into me.
I wasn't afraid because she was shouting, or threatening to kill Sophia – no, it was because she sounded almost normal.
"Yeah," Sophia said, annoyed, "So what?"
"How did that happen?" Placenta pressed, her rage blossoming into an inferno within her.
"I fell. The fuck do you care for, huh? It's none of-"
"No you didn't. It looks like you were struck. Were you in a fight, Shadow Stalker?" Malice seeped into Placenta's tone.
"What the fuck are you trying to imply, you freak? Say what you mean, and get the fuck out of my face," Sophia raised her voice, doing her best to intimidate Placenta.
"I'm implying that there's a rumor spreading in Winslow that you got dropped by some twig, Sophia," Placenta spat.
"She did NOT knock me out!" Sophia roared, and her aura instantly shifted to regret and panic.
"Oh yeah?" Placenta moved closer, ready to twist the knife in, "I bet you cried like a bitch after she beat your ass. You're weak – you don't even deserve to be called a hero."
Before I or anyone else could react, Sophia's aura surged. She grabbed her crossbow (which she had seemingly loaded while everyone was distracted who knows how long ago) and fired directly at the center of Placenta's chest.
Faster than I could see, Placenta hurled herself to the left. The crossbow's partially-phased tranquilizer bolt narrowly missed her, sinking multiple inches deep into the opposite wall – near where Armsmaster was standing – before it unphased.
Everyone in the room started to move at once. I jumped out of my chair and began to rush towards Sophia along with the rest of the Wards, ready to subdue her. Armsmaster began to pull his halberd out. Placenta was still reeling, and seemed a bit shaken by the sudden murder attempt.
Because that's what it was. Over being made fun of. I wouldn't be gentle in subduing Sophia, not in the slightest.
Sophia launched herself toward the wall behind her and phased into shadow, escaping into another part of the PRTHQ before anyone could react. Armsmaster immediately ordered a lockdown of the entire building and hurried towards the meeting room's exit, followed closely by everyone else present – except for Placenta, who went for her suit.
Why couldn't anything ever just be simple?
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A/N 2: Poor, poor Amy! :rofl: Taylor knows how her bug connection works now... that can only go well, right?
Taylor finally met Shadow Stalker!
Taylor also made her first actual friend!
Thanks for reading, this was a busy chapter. Please let me know what you all think!