Director Roger Kens: PRT Headquarters
Curtains drawn, Director Roger Kens sat in his office, alone, staring at a computer screen in the dark. Though it was still early in the morning and the sun gave way to a beautiful light in the east, he would rather enjoy the darkness. Hell, if he could get rid of the light from his computer monitor he would. He didn’t like seeing the smoke rising up from his cigarettes. Just one additional reminder that he was slowly killing himself. Both in habit, and in this job he had coveted so much those years ago. When he heard it was Denver he’d be taking over for as director, he wasn’t as excited as he once was. The city was big yes, a metropolitan area to be sure, but largely quiet as far as cape society went. Most of the Protectorate stationed here were mid-tier, while the same could be said of the rest of community, heroes and villains alike. Well, except for Furnace. But setting aside that guy, Denver lacked a lot of star power, a lot of heavy hitters, a lot of legends like, well, Legend. Kens wanted to be director, but not for a cushy desk job in a largely quiet city. And not for the press or the recognition either. He wanted to instill change. Real, important, lasting
change. To have a voice in ending the Wards program. No more government sanctioned child soldiers. To put the screws to villains. A more heavy handed approach to justice. Of course, once he actually took the seat, not only did he find himself in a quiet, cushy little position, but he found out how little influence a director actually had. When faced with the court of public opinion, the Youth Guard, his peers and the rest of the political bootlickers, there wasn’t actually a lot he could do.
Then things changed, and not for the better.
It seemed like only a year after he took office as the director of the Denver branch, the parahuman community began to change climates. First all the gangs disappeared in what seemed like a blessing to the public, but was actually a blight in disguise. They gave way to the rise of the Community. But he couldn’t take a hardline stance against them, oh no. If all the criminal activity in the city was united then the damage they could cause, lasting large scale white collar crime, went totally excused in the public’s eyes. As long as people weren’t shooting one another in the streets, that meant the Community could only be a good thing, right? So Kens resented being able to mobilize his men against them before it was too late.
Then the scale of parahumans started going up. No longer did Denver have one heavy hitter with a bunch of mid-tiers. Suddenly the parahuman population exploded with crazies. It was all too much to handle in one go. That Sonika woman, some underworld ghost known as Macavity, Some giant monster calling itself Outsider, he almost started an Endbringer panic. The mafia even moved back in and recruited that gas freak, Exhale. Not that they all caused problems. After all, Slyph was proving to be a powerful, if inexperienced, new Protectorate member. Plus Tulpa had all the raw power and versatility of Eidolon himself, in Kens’ own personal opinion. But then there were the biggest concerns, the Jacks. Them and…
Kens looked over at the letter that Margrave had provided him, a note left behind by the city catburglar, Sabotage. A mysterious underground kingpin. The city’s lack of skilled thinkers meant that he had to outsource a lot of the investigation to other cities (another detail that didn’t sit so well with him) and that of course meant having to wait behind red tape. They didn’t consider this Patriarch or this Chatterbox to be big enough to warrant an emergency expedited thinker focus, nor did they put much stock in the letter left behind by a known cat burglar. Kens, obviously, disagreed. That’s why when his email lit up, so did he. Quickly he clicked on the icon, loading the letter up to read. As his eyes scrolled across the text, the grew bigger and bigger. This situation was so much worse than he imagined it could be.
Patriarch: Verified master, 85% probability striker. In accordance with details provided as well as information taken in from recent posts on Parahumans Online, three thinkers have verified beyond question this parahuman possesses the ability to rewrite neural connections in the brain, with some unknown limitation. Appears to be focused on recognition of authority.
Chatterbox: Potential S class threat, further inquiry needed to verify. Verified master, 62% probability of trump. Appears to create nuanced control of sentient creatures via vocal inflection. In laymans terms, he utilizes a hypnotic voice. Trump aspect appears to proliferate the effect among those already affected.
Unknown Subject: No details to provide.Fifteen thinkers attempted to pull information from the letter provided, zero were successful. 99% probability Unsub does not exist.Director Kens picked up the line directly to Decoy in order to disseminate this information amongst the entire PRT and Protectorate staff, but before the phone made its connection he received a direct holographic notice from Decoy herself, appearing as her normal image since the communication was private.
”Director Kens-sama, emergency alert! The Community has launched a full scale war across the entire city of Denver!”Kens reeled back.
”You’re shitting me!””I assure you this is no jest. Reports are coming in from all across the city, including the airport, downtown, uptown, universities, and more. I have already put out the emergency mobilization order under the assumption you wouldn’t mind.””Of course, of course Decoy. Good job.” He adjusted his tie, more to appear to be more in control of the situation than he truly felt.
”Director, there’s more.”Well, there went any chance of growing his hair back.
”Well what are you waiting for, an invitation? Report!””We have two verified moles in the PRT. Members of the Community. The Wards have already apprehended one, and have just now engaged the second.”Kens wiped his face in a mixture of worry and relief.
”They were supposed to be in schoo-nevermind. Just tell me who.””The first was the former Wards leader, Collin, codename Sonar. He has been faking his injury and is currently unconscious in his quarters.”The director’s stomach dropped. Collin? That was terrible. With his powers, literally every single secret, every piece of covert intel, every logistic in the whole building could be compromised.
”I doubt it can get worse. Who have the kids engaged?””Protean, sir.”The look on his face said everything.
It got worse. ”Screw the desk job, I’m engaging. This old soldier has got to do his part to protect the kids. You can manage the logistics of the city better than I could, Decoy.””Understood, director-sama.” The hologram shut off as Kens pulled out a pistol from beneath his desk and checked it. It was loaded with live rounds. He took another quick inspection of his suit and found his containment foam grenade. Perfect. His gear in tow, the director rushed out of his office door.
Been awhile since I’ve done this.Outside his door was a bog-standard reception area, complete with terrible ‘bought in bulk’ chairs, and a secretary who looked up at him with wide, scared eyes. The further end of the room held a closed door, which would lead further into hallways and doorways to the various inner workings of the PRT HQ building.
“Director! Sir, is it true? My daughter just messaged me about sounds of fighting down the street from our apartment…” his secretary, Julie Sanders, spoke up as soon as he stepped outside his office. A picture of worry, her eyes wide with fear, she'd half stood up as she asked her question.
The director didn’t have time to hang back, the Wards would no doubt need backup. Still, Julie had been a good help to him since he first took office, and just as a human being needed that reassurance. Without breaking stride he spoke to her.
”It’s an all hands on deck situation.”“Oh my god….” she whispered in horror, hastily picking up the phone as she opened her desk. “Sis? Yeah, it's me…. Tell Father it's done.”
A gunshot rang out.
The director gave pause just before reaching the door. A phone? This was a secure government location. All outside communication was strictly forbidden. He turned back around to gauge the situation, only to be met with the barrel of a pistol, and a bullet tearing into his chest. Roger Kens fell to the floor, knocking over a nearby chair in the process, landing behind a desk just out of sight. Only his legs would have been visible.
He was breathing hard, his white button up shit slowly spreading red. Damn, the kevlar built into his suit didn’t hold. It only slowed the bullet, leaving him injured. Injured, but not dead at least. Damn. Julie knew he wore it, too. Must’ve known exactly where to shoot.
His mind raced as he watched the bleeding spread. “Father.” That’s what she had said. At least one more mole Decoy hadn’t accounted for. Damn it all to Hell! Three years he worked with her. Where along the way did Patriarch get to her? How long was she working for him? He shoved these thoughts aside. Roger Kens was now in an active warzone again. There could only be one focus: win. All other thoughts would only slow him down. Get him killed.
Damn, if only he were ten years younger. He’d still have been able to bounce back with this injury and probably win. But he wasn’t. Which means he had to resort to… Other methods. Taking a deep sigh, the director cleared his mind and focused on his goal: separate Julie from her gun.
“Yeah, yeah. Kevlar vest only matters if you don't know about it. Yeah, I know. I'll make sure before I leave for phase two. Of course. I'll report in fifteen.” Julie hung up, her flip phone snapping audibly closed, before she started moving slowly around her desk. Her pistol raised slightly, ready but not aimed, finger on the trigger as she walked confidently forward.
Roger wheezed as softly as he could, trying his best to stay motionless. Carefully he placed his hand in his suit jacket, taking hold of his special pistol. He would only have a split second to react, a fraction of what he was comfortable with. Still, he had a plan and he knew how to enact it. Tap, tap, tap came Julie’s footsteps as she approached. Don’t move. Move and you’re dead. Stay. Perfectly. Still. The very instant she comes into view you can strike, but so can she.
The woman’s eyes appeared over the desk, and they locked in on one another. Now or never. He pulled the trigger.
BANG! The shot rang out, his pistol kicked back hard into his gut from the recoil and poor positioning which only made him wince in more pain, but the results were fantastic. His bullet traveled straight through the wooden desk, aimed vaguely in her general direction. It continued to travel upon blasting through the wood, striking into his secretary’s gun hand.
Julie screamed, a raw sound full of pain and anger, as her gun fell to the floor at her feet, her body quickly following. “You fucking prick, that was my good hand!” she ground out from gritted teeth as she fumbled with the pistol with her off hand. Trying to get a grip on it as she shook from the shock, the handle slick with blood, she kicked out with her heels at the Director's legs. Another few seconds and she'd have the gun again, no doubt firing at the first possibility.
Yes, the perfect opportunity and he took advantage. Julie’s gun fell, slick with blood and she retaliated in a full rage. The woman tried to recover the weapon whilst taking a cheap shot at him with her heels, but that meant she couldn’t concentrate properly on one or the other. Her attention was split, in a way, and that would give her the tiniest slowdown, the smallest hesitation in her movements. Roger Kens was focused. He wouldn’t make that mistake.
Bang! Bang! Bang! He fired off three more shots, this time holding the gun properly and absorbing the recoil, even though it still meant his wound hurt like a son of a bitch. He aimed for center of mass, no remorse and no hesitation, like he was still a soldier out in the battlefield.
With a surprised sound, almost a gasp, Julie looked down in surprise as blood blossomed from beneath her jacket and business attire. “Huh,” she managed, before she collapsed backwards. The gun fell, again, from her grip as her breathing slowed to a stop. Her phone was visible on the desk, nothing else standing out of the ordinary outside of her actions.
With great effort the director hefted himself back up, holding onto the desk for leverage. The red was still spreading, subsuming the white. Damn, this was really bad. It stung something fierce, forcing him to walk with a limp. The director hobbled over his now deceased secretary, sparing her a glance.
”I know it wasn’t really your choice. I’ll personally inform your family and pay for your funeral.”He continued hobbling toward her desk, keeping pressure on the wound. If there was another mole, he wasn’t so sure he could come out on top again. This was a risk, but a risk he had to take. The director reached out to the phone and took it, flipping it open for examination.
The phone was still on the call log, unlocked, showing a series of calls to an unknown number. It appeared that she had no contacts, at a quick examination, and regularly deleted her texts. There was only one text, likely the one that had signaled her to start her attack.
We're starting. Deal with the old man and trash everything you can. Father's orders.The phone number was probably a burner, disposable. Unlikely they’d be able to trace anything back from it. Still, it was worth noting. He’d send a report for thinker analysis at the very least. Reading the text an idea struck him. It broke all kinds of protocol, but fuck it, so did housing multiple moles and getting shot in his own damn office. Kens decided to send a text back.
Age and experience kicks the shit out of naive youthThe reply came after a minute.
You'll regret that. Watch your troops burn in the streets as your capes realize the truth. Heh. That probably got under their skin. Good. Get their feathers ruffled and keep them talking. Might get them to slip up. He had a new goal: separate this person from whatever information they can accidentally provide.
The truth that your father is a two-bit thug that got too big for his britches? Face it, even if I lose here, attacking the city will only bring in the real big hitters. Alexandria can fuck you all up in an hour.While he waited, the director knew he was still needed downstairs. The Wards were facing Protean. Oh god, Protean was one of them, he nearly forgot. Slowly, with a deep pained breath on every step, he made his way toward the hall door.
No threat can stand before Father and not realize the truth. Sonika, Lamprey, soon they will all be family.The elevator was still a bit far away. Why couldn’t he move any faster?
I’ve got a secret for you. We’ve been holding back. I’ve issued a kill order on every single parahuman in the Community. Your family is going to pile up in the streets. How’s that for truth?It wasn’t true, though as soon as he was able to make it happen it would be. Actually, while he was thinking about it…
”Decoy?” Kens tapped a button on his ear mounted communicator. He was patched in immediately.
”Issue kill orders on the Community. All of them. Executive order 13, passcode alpha delta sixty-seven. I don’t think the suits would really give a fuck that I’m bypassing their approval in this case. Get the word out.””Right away, Director-sama.” Like to see you try.The elevator. Hallelujah. The metal doors slid open and he stumbled inside, swiping his badge over the sensor and practically punching the first floor button. Slowly, painfully slowly, the doors slid to a close.
Don’t worry. You will. Yeah, sure. And Behemoth is a magical girl. Whatever you say, dumbass. Heh. They were getting pretty flippant. Whoever this was was actually handling the situation quite well. Floor 35. 30. 25.
I killed your sister. It wasn’t even hard. The rest of you will be the same. Then I’ll go back home and drink my coffee. You'll be dead before the day ends. I'm sure Master Baiter will love you make you suffer once she's done with that bitch at the college. 20.15.10. Only 10 more floors to go. In the meantime, now he knew where Troll was.
”Decoy, Troll is at the university. Assign whoever is available to that location as a priority target. Of all the Community, she is second priority only to Patriarch himself.””Understood.”I’ve suffered plenty in my day. There’s nothing she can do to me I haven’t already lived through. But I’d be happy to share my experiences with you. ;) Then you're in luck, fucker. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. Ding. The door slowly slid open, revealing to Director Kens the hallway before him. Nearly a hundred feet away was Protean along with the Wards. This was more important. He pocketed the phone and focused on the scene before him, staying out of sight. The perfect opportunity. He needed to wait… For the perfect opportunity.
The Community Strikes Back
@PlatinumSkink@Spiffy@BCTheEntity@solokolos@Lemonzest1337 Chapter Two: The Rockers While Mire engaged Swarm, much to Creep's displeasure, he would find that while he could spare them from the gas spilling out from her body, he was unable to affect her actual form despite it being made of the same substance. So he reacted the main way he knew how: with offensive abilities. His partner, meanwhile, lifted a finger at the approaching figure. Bright, neon flashed before distortion rippled through the air between him and Mire faster than one could see. Her mist burned, and a small finger-sized hole opened up clear through her and her mist. With his other hand, he waved and a bright, neon green effect splattered over her eyes, blinding her completely.
The back half of the building chose to collapse at that very moment, and a captivating figure walked through the wall behind Swarm. As soon as she was visible, the first thought anyone got by looking at her was 'friends'. She wouldn't hurt them, would she? She was here to help!
@Belladonna@Lemonzest1337@Yoshua171@Ambrosine(Open invitation to Independents to get involved)
Chapter Three: The City As Celia broke off a section of the sword, she flipped a middle finger over her shoulder at the rising figure. A frown on her face, she stomped the rooftop, dropping down before the Breaker could throw anything at her. The thrown objects, however, continued on towards Meta. Who now had a missing opponent.
Looking down the hole that Celia had made would reveal that it went down several floors, but the girl was still nowhere to be seen.
Outside, Lamprey had also disappeared from view.
As Outsider and Sylph moved after Eyeblight, the villain continued to ignore them. Chasing after some of the staff, he deftly evaded further into the shop and up a set of stairs hidden behind a door. He was going for the upstairs apartments.
@Crusader Lord Chapter Four: The Girl As Allison tucked behind the corner, the grenade went off, throwing shrapnel, a concussive blast, and explosive sound down the hallway. Ringing dominated her ears, and likely would affect her ability to walk properly, but she knew that they would be coming for her.
What would she do now?
Member
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