ACL: 56. Skyfall (Patreon)

Chapter 56: Skyfall

Blake IsleySunday, February 20, 2011Type: Psychic

I returned from my morning run and martial arts practice just in time to join the kids for breakfast. There was a press conference on TV. 

Armsmaster stood with the director, cobalt-blue armor polished to a mirror shine. The Protectorate took out the Merchants in a successful raid. The uneasy balance between heroes and villains has been shattered. The city was, for the first time in decades, gang-free.

The man really was photogenic. Maybe he wasn’t the friendliest, most personable guy around, but he sold the image of a severe, resolute hero perfectly. For serious announcements like this, the feds couldn’t have asked for a better spokesman.

“What a fucking joke,” Derek scoffed into his Cheerios.

“Language, Derek,” Mrs. Wells chided.

“Yeah, whatever. Everyone knows they ain’t shit. It’s Menagerie who’s holding the city together.”

“Eh, when he’s right, he’s right,” Leah said as she plucked a piece of bacon off my plate.. “Still, Derek’s just salty he’s gotta find a new supplier to peddle weed.”

“Fuck you, bitch-ass, you were deeper with the Merchants than me!”

“Yeah? I ain’t the one with the tats.”

Mrs. Wells smacked the table with her spoon. “Children! Can we not do this at the breakfast table?”

“Right, it doesn’t really matter who got them. Done is done,” Cherie said. At this point, I couldn’t tell whether she was still trying to keep up her good girl image or was genuinely annoyed by the rising emotions. Empathy was funny that way. “The Protectorate is milking the win for all they’re worth, but that’s just how it goes. We might see a new addition to the heroes.”

“Hmm? Like, one of the Merchants flipping? Why would anyone want Skidmark?” Mark asked, scrunching his nose.

“I was thinking Squealer. Tinkers are always valuable so the heroes might have Panacea give her a full detox before giving her some kind of plea deal. Watch, I’m betting they’ll rebrand her.”

“She pissed off a lot of people here, though. Think she’ll ship her out of state?”

“That’s probably it.”

“How do you know?” Leah asked. “You know a lot about capes, huh, Cherie?”

The master in question coughed into her glass of orange juice. “Ah, yeah, I guess I do. I’m pretty interested in stuff like that. You know, for social work.”

“That’s really cool. Now that you mention it, Shadow Stalker was a vigilante. There were rumors that she killed someone on accident and got pressganged by the feds, right, Blake?” Mark added, kicking me under the table. I rolled my eyes. At this point, I was positive he knew who I was. 

“There were rumors on PHO to that effect, yes,” I agreed. Just then, my phone rang and a wide grin spread across my face. It couldn’t have come at a better time. I picked it up and pointedly didn’t look at Mark’s crush. “Hello? Alec? Yo, dude, how’s it going? You’re calling early.”

Cherie froze. The spike of curiosity hit me like a physical blow. I half expected her ears to flap around like a donphan’s, she was straining them so hard. 

Alec’s voice came muffled. I got up and moved towards the kitchen so no one else could hear his half of the conversation. “Not by choice. Rachel’s an early bird and decided I’m helping her feed her dogs.”

“Ah, fair enough. I’m having breakfast with everyone. Saw your sis around. She says hi,” I lied through my teeth.

It was a delicate balancing act between not letting the kids know who the “sister” was and fucking with Cherie. Judging by the daggers digging into my back, I was succeeding.

“She’s there? Right now?”

“Yup. She loves you and misses you. Hugs and kisses and whatnot.”

“Hah. Cherie with feelings? You’re hilarious.”

“Cross my heart. Your sister’s a real sweetheart, you know. In fact, I saw her helping a little, old lady with her groceries yesterday.”

“Did she steal the groceries?”

I chuckled as Cherie glowered at me from across the room. “I should stop. She’ll probably murder me in my sleep if I keep implying in any way that she might be a functional human being. You know how she is. She always finds out.”

“Heh, true that.”

“Anyway, did Quinn give you two a call?”

“He did yesterday. We’re… Well, fuck, guess Rachel and I are going straight.”

“Nice. I’m happy for you two. Are you going to be sticking around Brockton?”

“We’re not sure. The scary lawyer-guy says they’ll probably ship us off and rebrand us, but that’s cool, too. Hey, the further I get from dear ol’ dad, the better,” Alec said.

“Huh… You’re a lot more chill about this than I expected,” I admitted. I figured he’d be a bit resentful. Nominally, I gave him a choice, but it wasn’t as if he had many options.

“Whatever, man. I’ll be happy so long as they’ve got wifi. And pizza.”

“Spoken like a true gamer. Say, you wanna meet up? You and your sis can have one, giant pissing match. You know, for old time’s sake before you leave.”

Cherie used the dishes as an excuse to stand. The moment she faced away from everyone, she mouthed curses and drew her thumb across the throat.

“You’re a nosy asshole, you know that?” Alec grumbled. She must have been close enough to hear now, because she nodded emphatically in agreement.

“Fine, fine, I get it. I’ll stop poking fun at you two. Still, I think you should consider it. You know, for closure.”

“Maybe… We’ll let you know if something changes. Quinn’s talking to the PRT so nothing’s decided yet.”

“I get it. Are you and Rachel busy today?”

“What could we be busy with right now?”

“Cool. I’m going to drop by.”

“What? Why?”

“You’re not in trouble. I just want to run something by you.”

“Alright, fine. Come by Redmond at lunch.”

“Cool, see you then, dude.”

“Whatever, hero-boy.”

X

The Redmond Welding building was on its last legs. Not in the literal sense, it always looked like a dump intentionally, but because the property management company that held it recently went under. Without Coil to hold the reins, they got bought out and the new company was weighing the cost of remodeling versus demolition.

At least, that’s what Lisa said. I didn’t know if Alec and Rachel knew or not. If they did, it may have played a role in getting them to move. They were effectively homeless kids squatting in a commercial warehouse. After some discussion with Victini, I was here to offer them aura.

She was right, as usual. Aura was not a superpower, not in the way Earth-Bet used the word. It didn’t instantly make you supernaturally powerful or give you energy beams and super-speed.

Well, I had those things. But I was also a once in a generation prodigy who spent over a decade learning alongside a riolu. Even then, it wasn’t as if I could duke it out with Lung for more than a few seconds.

Truthfully, in some ways, Amy and Cherie were using aura better than I was. Or at least, in a way that was more true to its primary function. The real worth of aura was, and always would be, connection. 

Aura gave Amy a reason to care. It presented the gratitude of her patients in a way that even her jaded, callous heart could not deny. It taught Cherie that emotions were more than a musical scale for her to fiddle with for fun. It forced her to feel those emotions for herself, to finally listen.

Victini gave them aura because it was never meant to be a simple source of power. Mrs. Wells liked to say that healthy people did not need doctors. It was probably a Bible verse, but she wasn’t wrong. The same rules applied here: Alec and Rachel could really use the help. In lieu of the Alpaca Almighty, I supposed that meant I’d be making the house call.

My armor made dull thumps as I climbed up to the loft. Their apartment hadn’t changed much since the last time I was here. If anything, the only thing different was the number of empty pizza boxes that littered the floor and coffee table.

Alec and Rachel were on the couch. They looked guarded, but Rache’s dogs didn’t try to maul me this time, so I chalked that up as progress. Besides, their emotions were a little more optimistic than the fatalism I remembered. No matter how much they tried to pretend otherwise, having a clear path forward must have felt pretty damn good.

Decision was direction. Direction was purpose. And purpose, well, that was the beginning of hope.

“Yo, how are you two doing?” I asked with a casual wave. My armored butt made the overused couch creak with strain. “Thanks for letting me drop by on short notice.”

“It’s not like we have anything else to do,” Alec said. He paused the game he’d been playing and set the controller down. Next to him, Rachel played tug-of-war with one of her dogs. “I can’t believe you’re living with my bitchy sister.”

“Cherie’s not that bad. I took her power, remember? She’s just a normal girl, now.”

“You can do that? Is this the part where you threaten to take ours too if we don’t stay on the straight and narrow?”

“Wrong phrasing, sorry. I didn’t ‘take’ her power like the Fairy Queen does. I guess it’d be better to say I sealed it away. Basically, I blocked her connection to her power, like a broken wifi signal.”

“Don’t do that,” Rachel said, glaring suspiciously. “Don’t mess with my dogs.”

“I would never,” I promised. “I don’t believe in forcing people into things they don’t want to do.”

“Good.”

And that was that. Rachel was a woman of few words. She checked that I wasn’t here to beat her up, then went right back to her dogs.

I liked her. She was simple in a way that reminded me of wild pokemon. They weren’t stupid by any means, something most trainers learned very quickly, but they had very straightforward priorities. After dealing with the budding gang war and summit, I found it refreshing.

“Then what’s this about?” Alec asked.

“Well, since it’s looking likely that you two will be leaving the city, I wanted to offer you the same thing I gave to Cherie before you left: aura,” I said. I held out my hand and an orb of blue light formed over my palm.

“Hold on. You gave my sister, Cherie Vasil, superpowers? What the hell is wrong with you?” He looked at me as if I told him I ate dogs. 

“I’m not compromised, if that’s what you mean.”

“Sounds like what a mastered minion would say. Quick, tell me she’s a bitch.”

“She’s a bitch,” I obliged.

“And that you don’t want to fuck her.”

“I don’t want to fuck her.”

“She’s butt-ugly.”

“But she objectively isn’t. Your sister is gorgeous.”

“Aha! Begone, ye mastered thrall!” he shouted, forming a Catholic cross over his chest.

“Alec, she’s physically attractive. Get over it. She’s also manipulative and selfish. Both these things can be true at the same time,” I pointed out tiredly.

“Okay, fine, maybe you’re not mastered, but what the hell were you thinking?”

“She can’t throw Aura Spheres, if that’s what you’re asking. She can’t even make her hands glow or enhance her physical abilities. Aura doesn’t work like that.”

“Aura. Really. You’re calling your trump power ‘aura.’ Can you get any more generic?”

“Hush, you. Anyway, at its core, aura is emotion. It takes years to learn to utilize aura offensively, and that’s if you’re particularly talented. No, what Cherie has is empathy.”

“Empathy? Like, feelings?” Alec asked incredulously. Then, the words registered and he burst out cackling. “Hahaha! You’re joking, right? You sealed her powers and gave her feelings?”

“Why not? Look, Alec, I’ll be blunt. There is something deeply wrong with you Vasils, at least all the ones I’ve met. Your emotions are either muted or absent entirely. Even for Cherie, whose power was all about emotional manipulation, she only ever heard them as music; she didn’t really personally experience them.”

“So… So you taught her to feel and made it so she physically can’t ignore the way she makes other people feel. Holy shit, you’re reforming my sister with the power of friendship.”

“That’s the plan. Honestly? I’ll settle for her being less of a sociopath,” I told him. I doubted Cherie would ever truly become a paragon of justice or whatever. “So, want aura? That goes for you too, Rachel. If it helps, auric empathy works with all living creatures, dogs included.”

Rachel, who’d moved on from playing with her dogs to grooming them, perked up instantly. “They’ll let me help my dogs?”

“And people,” I nodded. “Aura basically lets you communicate more genuinely. You’ll have fewer misunderstandings.”

“I want it.”

“If you’re willing to take up meditation and martial arts, you can even use it actively, too–”

“Don’t care. I want it. It helps dogs.”

I smiled. How refreshing. It really was that simple for her. “Sure. Alec? Do you want empathy as a power?”

“You’re not going to seal mine in exchange?”

“No. You two can keep the powers you have. You wouldn’t be able to integrate into a Protectorate team otherwise.”

“Alright, then. Lay it on me.”

X

I gave them aura. We had lunch. Or really, Victini gave them aura. She had to do the gifting because that kind of bestowal was soul-fuckery several tiers beyond my own abilities. Observing her work was a humbling reminder that I was the greatest human aura master in recent memory. That “human” was doing a lot of heavy-lifting there.

The process itself was painless for all involved. Well, the process was painless. Alec couldn’t help running his mouth and Victini threatened to psychically scramble the part of his brain that governed finger dexterity so he’d never play video games again. I’d never seen him so terrified.

Then again, I’d never seen anyone annoy Victini in less than five sentences. Truly, he’d mastered the fine art of shit-talking like only a basement-goblin could. I wondered if being infuriating was a Vasil trait; maybe they had some kind of bloodline inheritance, not unlike psychics in my world.

Chuckling, I bid them farewell. Alec pretended not to care, but I could tell; the sudden onslaught of emotions affected him more deeply than he cared to admit. He hadn’t been fully incapable of feeling emotions before, but it was still an intense feeling.

Whatever. It wasn’t my style to pry. He could maintain that irreverent air until he was ready to allow himself to express something else.

As I walked along, I wondered what I should do today. I’d met with the Ambassadors already. Logic stated that I should meet with the Elite, Adepts, or Travelers next. I’d more or less written off the Teeth as people who could be negotiated with.

These were the nutjobs who called the Slaughterhouse on their own city. Back when they were based in Brockton, they thought they could make a deal with Jack Slash and not get backstabbed. It was what got them annihilated almost to the last and exiled from the city. I seriously doubted the Butcher got any saner after a couple more incarnations.

I knew nothing about Epoch, but from what Lisa said, he and the Adepts seemed more interested in leaving New York than conquering Brockton Bay. In fact, because they poached a Ward, they were trying to let the heat die down. They might not even remain in Brockton for longer than that.

And since Uppercrust was the leader of this particular Elite cell, I felt reasonably confident in leaving them alone for now. Money and healing for their leader was their motive. Rampant violence, or anything else that would draw attention, took away opportunities. 

That left Trickster of the Travelers. I had to find him, preferably before he did something stupid. Lisa said they appeared at some point in 2009 and had been nomads since. Leading a group of high-powered capes probably meant he wasn’t dumb, but he was out to find a cure for his girlfriend. Love certainly could make people rash.

Question was: Were they even here right now?

The Travelers liked to stay under the radar and there were only so many ways they could transport and provide for Noelle discreetly. Ferrying her around in the back of a big truck wasn’t out of the question, especially since Trickster could just teleport her in and out of the truck bed.

But that didn’t explain how they kept her fed and comfortable. Noelle’s lower half ate everything indiscriminately, people included. That meant they needed an isolated safehouse, something not at all easy to acquire when you lived a nomadic lifestyle.

Moreover, they were young. From what little footage existed, I placed them at about my age, maybe a year or two older. This wasn’t my world, where teenagers could be expected to travel the world on their own. “Young” didn’t mean “incompetent,” but it meant they likely didn’t have the support network necessary to function as an independent organization.

Real estate that could be quietly repurposed into a safehouse. Papers to divert official investigations. Funds and contacts to arrange for a constant delivery of food without raising questions. That all sounded beyond their means to acquire, which meant they either had hilarious amounts of money, or a backer.

Logically, my thoughts drifted towards the Ambassadors or Elite. A group of powerful nomads could make for excellent deniable assets. A basic deal might be that the Travelers protect their client’s interests from the Teeth in exchange for material support.

That… That didn’t sound right.

Accord was a man who didn’t just like being in control; he needed to be in control. Lisa said there were rumors of him murdering people for having a crooked tie or dirty sleeve. This was a man who abhorred chaos on a visceral, instinctual level.

Noelle was nothing if not chaotic. She was an unstable element who was, at best, barely contained by her boyfriend. Trying to use the Travelers sounded a bit like a zero-badge trainer with a team of magikarp.

Will they evolve? Eventually.

When? No idea.

Plan? Everyone dies sooner or later.

 There was a non-zero chance that Accord met with Trickster at some point. The Travelers were said to have visited Boston. But, I couldn’t imagine Accord being partially thrilled about that encounter.

Uppercrust was a more likely sponsor. He wanted healing from me or Amy. Trickster wanted the same for Noelle. It wasn’t impossible for Trickster to have found a sympathetic ear, especially since he did have a lot of firepower to bring to the table. And unlike the Ambassadors, the Elite were historically more willing to use proxies and mercenaries.

There was one easy way to confirm it. I took out my phone and began to dial Citrine. I’d arrange a meeting and simply ask. Empathy would give me the truth of the matter. And, if she had no control over the Travelers, she could tell me what Accord knew about them.

Before I could finish inputting the number, I received a call from Sarah Pelham. Not exactly the person I talked with most often, but I’d kept her number following the Coil debacle.

“Yes? Lady Photon?” I answered.

“Menagerie, good. Were you serious about signing up for S-class emergencies?” she asked, wasting no time.

“I was. What can I do for you?”

“Director Piggot gave me a call. She asked me to reach out to you. The Simurgh is attacking Detroit. Strider will be at the PRT building in eight minutes. If you don’t want to go, no one will blame you.”

The call cut out. I froze, staring at the blank screen. My mind restarted and I checked the date. Today was the twentieth. The Simurgh was supposed to hit Canberra on the twenty-fourth. She was four days early, and dropping in on a completely different city. 

What changed? It’d only been a few days since Lisa confirmed that prediction. I scrambled for answers but came up blank.

‘Does it matter? She is here. You asked me to keep myself available,’ Victini said. Her telepathic voice was a balm for my soul. ‘Well, here I am, your very own Star of Victory.’

‘You’re right. Thanks, Victini.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Shall we?’

‘Let’s go earn my title.’

Author’s Note

It was pointed out that I gave Cherie aura because she’s hot and for no other reason. I did not; she just happens to be the person who’d benefit most. We talked about it when this was still a quest. Alec and Rachel were two other people who could use the helping hand.

Dun! Dun! Duunn!! Simmie says hi.

Why not Canberra? Why early? What changed in the past few days since the Future Sight with Lisa? Why are Pop Tarts better eaten cold?

Animal Fact: A humpback whale penis can be up to ten feet long, as long as a one story building is tall. It’s also highly muscular and flexible. Usually, it’s held inside the genital slit but can be extruded during mating displays.

During mating season, whales form competition pods, sometimes called “comp pods” by whale watchers. They’re made up of one female being chased by multiple males, anywhere from three to twenty-five. Such pods swim along the ocean’s surface so they’re very easy to document.

Males jockey for proximity to the female and sometimes wave their penises in the air. Not water. Air. They literally flip upside down and stick out building-sized dicks flexible enough to clap with. It’s both a mating display, and some think a show of dominance for other males.

And yes, this is thought to be partially responsible for “kraken” stories by old sailors. After all, giant and colossal squid live deep underwater and only their corpses wash up to shore.