September 12th, 2015
The Great Heist
A City AwakensRagtag was busy flitting through papers in the Governor's desk when she heard the most god-awful screeching noise quickly followed by even worse sounds. She paused momentarily before grabbing half a dozen papers and two manilla folders before she dashed out of the office, zipped through doors on her way out. As she neared the bottom floor a security guard turned the corner, freezing for a moment at the young teen barreling towards him before her appearance clicked with his training.
“FREEZE!” he yelled, drawing a baton. She, of course, didn’t freeze. Instead she laughed, like she was sharing a joke with the man, before she bolted around him faster than he could blink. As he turned towards her, his mouth opening in confusion, she raised one hand to flip him the bird, her other hand drifting towards her side.
In seconds she was out on the street, holding two cans of spray paint. Utilizing her power she quickly tagged the entire front entrance to the Governor’s office with a graffiti message before she bolted again, just in time for the guard to stumble through the entrance. He turned to stare at the graffiti, shaking his head as he pulled out his walkie talkie.
DOWN WITH THE TYRANT!Many blocks away, however….
Final Guard and Junior Guard
The First TestGoosebumps were forming on Spindle's calf, her skin burning where the wire pressed her dress into her butt. The wire was thick, braided out of a bunch of smaller wires, which were formed by smaller wire, seemingly endlessly. She could FEEL them intertwine, could even unravel it within seconds from the inside out if she so chose. Instead she made small movements, keeping it between her and the ground as it swayed. She was left momentarily deafened by a strong breeze, forcing her to move the wire to keep her from plummeting. One of her hands held binocular, raised but not in front of her eyes, while the other was resting on the megaphone in her lap. Spindle was wearing a light blue dress, with shorts on underneath. No mask adorned her young face, framed by short white hair. As the wind slowed, the beat of helicopter blades reached Spindle's ears, tingling and almost numb though they might've been. It grew louder, approaching her position. More wires were spread in front of her, a veritable jungle of tiny strands. The smaller more central wires had been painstakingly greased to keep them from catching the light, caring less about the thicker wires hanging flush against the buildings on either side of her. Some of those thicker wires were acting as supports for the smaller ones, some of them were bound and restricted by her power currently, waiting to fall and trap the fly in her web.
The helicopter got much louder as it rounded the nearest street corner. It was dark blue, with the First Guard logo emblazoned on the side of the Little Bird's frame. The nose of the helicopter dipped down as it quickly approached the ground before twisting and dragged the right side of the craft upward, fighting against its own momentum to end in a hover. Spindle raised the binoculars as it slowed to a crawl. The soldiers were quickly unstrapped themselves from the strut. They picked up their weapons and let themselves fall to the ground.. The person Spindle assumed to be the squad leader took the longest, grabbing his backpack off the floor of the helicopter as he slid off the seat and over to the strut before falling to the ground. He landed hard, one of his men already holding out his gun. He stood from the crouch he had fallen into and they started advancing into a nearby alleyway. The helicopter turned and spun up its rotors in the same motion, gaining height and heading directly towards her. Idly she tugged a white kneesock higher, her head slightly tilted and lips pursed as the thing approached her. She dropped the binoculars, and left the megaphone in her lap as she raised her hands. The pilot noticed her when he was around 300 yards away; he hadn't been expecting someone in his airspace, despite the city's cape population. He tipped the nose up, trying to bleed forward momentum into vertical, and the rotors touched the first of her strands.
Spindle's hands moved in unison with the string, crossing in front of her. Psychic grasp released, the small leads fell as large wire suddenly swung outward, faster than gravity would allow them. Brute force meant no precision, but she didn't need precision. The helicopter's blades met one of the thickest pieces of wire, and warped suddenly, cutting through the wire while slowing significantly. The entire vehicle was already turning sharpy, twisting over itself when it hit the second wire. Too many things happened at once. Without Spindle even asking, more wires moved, pressing underneath the helicopter to catch it while the ones above quickly halted the rotors. It was loud, wrenching metal and the
crack of her spindles snapping. A majority of the speed had been sapped, though the helicopter was still toppling. Spindle felt the wire move in her
grasp, not entirely in her control as it rushed to compensate.
Finally the great beast stopped, hundreds of wires and wires within wires cradling it. A mere fifty feet from her, its rotors chipped in too many places to count, and the ends bent. It had broken a majority of the wires that touched it, but had lost the fight to quantity. Spindle raised a couple dozen of the recently wires into the air, guiding them to the cockpit to wrap and worm themselves around the pilot. Slowly she raised the megaphone with her hands, rising to her feet, ready to begin the show. Careless step after another she didn't fall, as she paced along her tight rope, holding the crowd
so far beneath her absolutely transfixed.
"Hello, my name's Spindle. I've got a hostage, and one term.
“Disband the First Guard."
Through his peripherals he watched the other members of the FInal Guard, as he accepted SWAT’s handshake with a firm grasp. A slight shift in the group meant Matthew could see one more member, Presidio. She had slipped his mind. That was a bad sign, that a cape under his employ was completely forgotten. He would have to take their files home tonight and memorize them. He could do a bit of flashcard work, read their histories a couple more times, and make himself that much more presentable to them. Speaking of acting more presentable to them, Fling was glaring daggers at him. He had heard a note that she’d been less amenable as of late, but this was a bit more than that.
Already in one of his team member’s crosshairs. Sometimes it couldn’t be helped, he would have to talk to her privately asap.
4sight looked dead to the world now that Matthew was closer. His costume concealed a lot of his features, but Matthew had met the man when he had a full tank. Running on empty changed one’s posture, where they put their hands, all the little things added up. That observation was doubly true for Slingshot; even without seeing the boy when he had a full night's rest, Matthew could sense the lack of it. SWAT was raring, and Matthew assumed, reading. Emotion manipulator and sensor, a terrifying person to be around. The other powers present were fancy and flashy, causing direct damage often enough. SWAT however, he could be subtle. Matthew had specifically told his various staff to not mention on their own a rule against using his power on the director. If asked, they were to respond that SWAT didn’t have “write permission,” in different words.
Presidio was last but not least. It was almost the feeling that she was a kindred spirit, a younger version of himself. An actor. It was good acting, honestly, only her own self doubts about her performance giving it away. He smiled at all of them, the act wrinkling the edges of his eyes. He spent the slightest second more smiling at Presidio before speaking.
"Nice to meet most of you for the first time. Faces in a file-" masks, not even faces
"-are so much different from meeting you all in person." Matthew said as he released SWAT's hand. Matthew opened his mouth to say something else, but Sandra interrupted him.
"Sir, the three Junior Guard members you invited are also here. Make sure to set aside some time for them." Matthew had completely forgotten. The invitation had been written a month in advance, one of the first plays he had made. It was sent a week ago, and had since slipped his mind.
"Of course. Thank you Sandra. Can you find them in the crowd and tell them I'll be with them in a moment?" He said, his tone polite. Sandra didn't answer verbally, just giving a nod before moving to follow the instructions. She had short black hair, and looked stereotypically secretary to the point of cliche. Matthew had asked about it once, and Sandra had seemed confused about the inquiry. Turning back to the gathered heroes, Matthew reached up to scratch the back of his head, giving the impression of being slightly embarrassed. Surface level.
"I'm not at all used to being called sir. Some of the staff even started out trying to call me Mr. Fielding." Lowering his hand, he stood straight again, as if to reassert control. All of this was the game. All of it was politics, all of it was public relations, all of it was talking with people and shaping their view. Of you, of the company of the agency, it didn't matter. The expectation changed, the standards flexing with time, and boundaries redrawn.
John was walking towards them now, having just gotten off the phone.
"I didn't actually want to set a time limit, I wanted instead-" He interrupted himself, looking over at John who had set a hand on his shoulder. As he did, he noticed how the room had shifted, light hearted before turning to quick conversations on cell phones. The news crew Matthew had been ignoring in the back of the room was packing their stuff up as fast as they could.
"We've got a situation. One of our helicopters was incapacitated by a shaker, and the pilot is a hostage. We're going to need your team's help, we can't lose that man. It would destroy team morale to have another death this month, and–God–he has a wife. It's only one cape, but we can't close the distance or take a pot shot without risking. . ." John trailed off, his voice tinged with barely supressed rage. Even though the man was a complete hardass, but it was clear that the soldiers under him did mean a lot. Fixing this without a causulty would mean John would owe Matthew.
It wasn't guaranteed though. Looking back at the heroes, his eyes instantly rested on
4sight.
"Can your team mobilize?" Matthew asked.
4sight didn't immediately respond, but something about him convinced Matthew that he would say no. John spoke before either
4sight or Matthew could.
"I have the authority to pull some strings and allow some of the Junior Guard members at this event to join you. You can form two teams, with Dart commanding the second. I know you don't like having squads of five, 4 Sight." It was diplomatic, but also rushed. That would reduce the size of the favor.
Matthew was already nodding, keeping his eyes on the squad leader.
4Sight nodded tentatively, then nodded again more firmly.
"It'll work. We can learn about the threat on the way. You don't mind commanding the Junior Guard Dart?" He asked, turning towards his compatriot. She looked surprised and a little uncomfortable about the prospect at first.
"Not about stealing glory, but I think it's better for our teams to have a consistent leader, and it’ll give you more field experience. You’ll be given the information from on high and will give them a briefing." 4Sight noted, trying to quell Dart’s worries. She reacted well to that, seeming to steel herself to the prospect. For SWAT’s benefit,
4Sight added
”I know you expected to lead a team sooner rather than later, but I want Dart to get some experience now that you've already gotten.”It would be done then, two teams versus a single shaker. It was all too convenient though, wasn't it? On the day of his announcement, the First Guard runs into trouble they can't handle. Who was pulling this string?
The first Junior Guard that Sandra found was the very inconspicuous Calvin Ball. Without hesitation she put her hand on his shoulder, leaning down to say
”The director will see you after he has finished with the Final Guard. Come with me for now, I want to gather the rest of your Final Guard compatriots together.” Her voice was that of an older woman who didn’t like dealing with children. Calvin acted like a puppy who had just reached the end of his leash. Guilty, but still wanting to
act. Sandra brushed it off quickly and searched for her objective.
Next was Coil, who was a bit less conspicuous. She was also in full costume though, so still very conspicuous. This one was wearing a–a witch costume? With Calvin close behind, Sandra approached her and spoke without trying to grab her attention beforehand.
”Coil. The Director is going to see you soon, with the opportunity to schedule a 1 on 1 interview in the future.” "And he'll tell me why I'm here, right?" Coil said, sounding suddenly uncomfortable.
The communicator in Sandra’s ear buzzed briefly before beginning a message.
”A shaker has been spotted a couple blocks away, seemingly by herself, and she took down a First Guard helicopter. The Junior Guard are going to be gathered, and mobilized in a temporary squadron. John already approved these orders.” Sandra straightened as she listened, before speaking again.
”Change of plans. Come with me.” Sandra said, already turning.
A simple
”Oh, okay." was Coil’s response, barely heard as Sandra searched the crowd. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Calvin basically hopping up and down, very excited. She suddenly moved, approaching Werelight from behind and put a hand on his back while she leaned forward.
”There’s an emergency, your temporary team leader will brief you. Come with me, now.” She said firmly.
Werelight flinched, but after composed himself soon after.
“Understood,” he said, rising from his seat. He began another sentence but Sandra was already moving, approaching the group formed near Matthew. His expression was thoughtful, and slightly grim as he looked over the Junior Guard members.
Sandra watched him, it felt like he was sorting through tones he could use for this particular conversation.
”Dart over there is going to be your temporary team leader. We’re going to brief her, and then she’ll brief you on the way to the helicopter. If you don’t want to participate in the mission, now is your time to back out. Otherwise, follow her commands, and it’ll mean great things, maybe even a full career as a cape in the future.” The tone he had chosen was guarded, seeming distinctly concerned about sending them into combat. Still he seemed confident they could handle it.
The Fallen
The SearchThe wind was whipping through the open sides of the jeeps as they roared across the country side, dips and bumps in the dirt road jostling the passengers as the Fallen search party shot across the flatlands between the forest and the city. Several hours had passed since the meeting and their eventual leaving.
Rend was driving, Transcendent hanging half out a window of another, while Ripper was plopped in the passenger seat of a third vehicle. There were almost two dozen Fallen alongside them, and another two vehicles in total, while they talked through walkies on a special frequency.
“.....happen to know where she is?”
“Sanders saw her around the edge of town a few days ago. Couldn’t approach by himself.”
“Xaya noticed someone matching her appearance when she was out shopping yesterday around the food market.”
“So she’s moving inward. Towards the Guard?”
“Sounds like it. Maybe she’s hoping to use their base as cover and a defense to keep us away?”
“Maybe. She’s gonna be alone regardless though. Guard won’t help someone like her.”
“I don’t know. You hear about Final Guard? Bunch of capes being recruited as a fucking task force.”
“Eh, they won’t take her. She won’t go to them directly anyways. And, besides, we’ll get her before she even gets the chance. Bring her home just like Whisper ordered. She can’t get away from me,” Transcendant said confidently. “Think she’s probably gonna hunker down somewhere nearby. We’ll check hiding spots first, then go into the more likely places. We’ll divide in half, and I’ll take the newbie.”
The chatter died down as they approached the city limits, everyone carefully adjusting their face protection as they passed the first farm.
Red Eye
The BankAt that Percy faked a guffaw. Vanish rolled her eyes, smiling slightly. They were in costume, Vanish looking particularly punk, dark leather, chains, and Percy. . . Well Percy didn't actually wear costumes. He had a hoodie on, the hood flipped over his head and sunglasses. Percy had never cared that much about the whole secret identity thing, always saying
"I'm here for a good time, not a long time." It always sounded hollow though, he had been going to college when they met which cost money. Investing in one's future was not what the people who didn't mind dying did. Unless they were shorting it.
'Shorting' was about where Vanish's investing knowledge ended, and so did the metaphor. There was a reason she had failed out of college. It made her uncomfortable to actually think through those reasons, preferring the apathy of partying, drinking, drugs, and
this. Percy opened the door for her, a sarcastic smile on his face. Vanish scoffed with equal sarcasm, but went through the door. The bank would've been beautiful, but the rejection of her internship made it ugly at the same time. It seemed to Vanish that the place was rotten underneath. The horse with a limp had to be put down. It would break the bone over and over, not knowing that it's continued action would destroy it.
Percy was gliding across the floor his torso barely bouncing as he approached a teller. One of the guards was already moving to intercept him, the smallest detail having given Percy's hostility away. Smiling at the mistake she could chide him about later, she raised her hand. The projectile was silent, despite being almost supersonic; the brick shattered as the guard's leg shattered. That was less silent, a violent cracking redoubled by the bricks crumbling
A few seconds passed before chaos erupted around them. Percy had jumped the counter, knocking a teller out with a swift kick in the same motion. He moved to intercept another one as Vanish looked for more security.
"Put the fucking money in the bag." Percy yelled as Vanish's rested her eyes on the next guard. He flinched, undoing the clasp over his pistol. Steeling his nerves, he leveled it on Vanish and shot. There was no wound in her chest when she raised her hand again.
Exiled
Not with a Bang...Manifold stretched, not that she really needed to. It was an old motion that made her feel good, though, while she observed the pieces of her midsection in the mirror, looking for anything that stood out as abnormal.
She’d been up for the last 8 hours while everyone else slept tinkering away at herself. Adding, improving, making better. She’d even figured out a way to better improve her production systems in the process!
Upstairs she could hear movement as the other two got ready. She was about to join them when her phone lit up with a text message.
From TL:
Panzerstahl moving. ETA 15 min, 5 mile south. Maybe more or less depend on movement. Going towards the city. Big tank, heavy, two more of the old model too.To TL:
Roger, thanks. We’ll take care of it. Thanks TL. <3
She stood up proper, shutting herself back up as she walked towards the stairs that led out of the guarded bunker. Pushing open the secret door in the floor she stepped into the lounge and pressing her fingers together for a sharp snap.
<<We’ve moving. Nazis in tanks, 15 minutes, a few minutes away.>>
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