Worm: Time of Perils [Worm OC]

[sun tzu]

This is an idea for a "Worm" story that's been trotting in my head for a while, so I figure I'll try to do it justice. I can't make promises - lots of projects on my table, Warren can be hard to write at times, and the whole thing may well be little more than a self-indulgent fix-fic in the end - but hopefully it'll be a fun ride regardless.
...One might wonder why it's called "Time of Perils", since, well, "Worm" is always in peril. Honestly, it's kind of an inside joke.
Now, without further ado:

Prologue: Checkmate Comes To Brockton Bay (here)
Arc 1: Enters the Mastermind 1.1 1.2 1.3 1.4 1.5 1.6 Interlude: Tattletale Mini-Interlude: Stargazing
Arc 2: Colossus and Enigma 2.1 Mini-Interlude: Archvillain

WORM: TIME OF PERILS​

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PROLOGUE: CHECKMATE COMES TO BROCKTON BAY

"...Well, I believe that just about covers it, to the extent that we can cover the unpredictable. I will be departing in the next hour, then."

The man was slightly tall, thin, with dark hair. His eyes were hidden behind thick glasses. His chin looked like it was made to stab people with. His clothes, an unremarkable white office attire - somewhat clashing with the bulky, technologically-advanced suit he was in the process of donning.

The younger-looking man next to him was dressed in a jumpsuit even redder than his hair. "I know it's too late to talk you out of this, Warren, but… I'm not comfortable about this idea. I mean… we have no idea what's on the other side. Heck, until recently we didn't even know parallel worlds existed, and the only reason we know they do is because you and the rest of the science pack guessed as much from your experiments with the," he made air quotes with his fingers, "metahuman guy."

Warren may or may not have rolled his eyes. It was hard to tell with those glasses. "David, you simply have no appreciation for the scientific method. We studied his powers, made conjectures, hypothesized results, and confirmed them experimentally. The science is sound. We know that those other worlds exist. And on one of those worlds, something is reaching into ours, connecting to our friend's brain, and gifting him with extraordinary abilities. We have confirmed the target world as the location with the most inter-universal disturbances; it is only logical to send a research expedition."

"I'm not objecting to that. I'm just not convinced you should be the one going."

A hint of a smirk crept across Warren's face. "You realize, of course, that the quantum manipulation technology involved in this requires a sapient mind operating it to work; sending a drone first is not an option. It has to be a person. Given that physics might vary slightly from universe to universe, there is a non-trivial risk of the portal device not functioning properly once the other universe is reached, stranding whoever we send. Sending the person most capable of adapting the portal device is only logical."

"It's also dangerous," David pointed out. "For all we know, the other world's environment is deadly."

"All the more reason for me to go. I ought not send another person into danger that I am unwilling to face myself."

David rolled his eyes while fighting off a grin. "I kind of miss your asshole antihero phase. The altruistic hero version is more prone to giving us all ulcers."

"You can only blame yourselves for being such a constructive influence."

"Right. But… Warren. It's not just about putting yourself at risk. We need you."

"Point of fact: You do not." Warren finished putting the cybernetic suit. "Control, the Prank, Avalon, the Devourer… every major threat has been cleared. The world is well-defended. My presence is useful, but by no means a necessity at this point."

"OK, maybe. I'll still be rooting for you not to get killed."

"Much appreciated."




The technicians performed their final checkup. "Everything seems ready, Mister Checkmate sir."

His left eye twitched ever so slightly. "You may call me Warren, Checkmate, Checkmate Warren, or even Mister Wilson if you must, but I'm afraid 'Mister Checkmate' is simply silly."

"Right. Sorry, sir."

"Quite all right. Now, unless there is any further cause for delay…"

"I don't think so, sir. As long as you're confident this contraption will actually work…"

"My machines always work," said Warren, smirking. "Now, ladies and gentlemen, I believe it is time to explore a new frontier."




The suit was designed to survive extremely hostile conditions. Vacuum, easily. An acidic atmosphere, for weeks if necessary. Deep ocean pressure, as long as it took. Even magma, for half an hour - long enough to activate the dimensional travel device and return home. It was also equipped with cybernetic muscles that would allow the wearer to lift a car over their head. It was, in every respect, a fine piece of sophisticated technology.

It stopped working as soon as he reached the new world, causing him to fall to the ground under its sheer weight.

A few quick attempts to get the suit to respond made the situation clear to him: This other universe was operating under different laws of physics. The difference, clearly, was minuscule: Baryonic matter still existed, the planet around him still looked like the one he'd left, his own body was still working. It was only something as advanced as his suit that actually suffered from such a minuscule difference.

He let out a sigh of frustration. He had considered that possibility, along with the other scientists. The idea that parallel worlds might have different physics wasn't a new one. They had judged it unlikely, but not implausible, given what limited data they had. Luck was simply not on his side this time. ...Or maybe it was. He was still alive, after all.

Still, luck only carried you so far. He preferred to rely on planning whenever possible. Which was why he had included a couple of emergency subsystems in the suit, using technology so simple, it would no doubt function under any set of physical laws under which his own biology survived. One of those emergency sub-systems was to be activated with a single world.

"Release." With that, the suit opened, allowing him to get out, stand up, and take a good look at his surroundings.

Nighttime, like on his Earth. Vegetation typical of the American East coast. An urban environment within sight, only a few miles away. He looked up - by observing the position of the stars, his glasses were able to estimate the hour, which matched the one on his watch (this also meant, thankfully, that his computerized glasses were simple enough technology to function in this world).

"Well then," he sighed as he looked at the heavy, unmoving suit, "I suppose it's time for a hike."




It had taken time and effort to hide the suit where he was confident he could find it again. By the time he was entering town, the sun was already rising. He glanced at the "You are entering Brockton Bay" sign - not a city he'd heard of. He estimated a 98.5% likelihood that it either didn't exist in his world, had a different name, or was dramatically smaller. One way or another, History could be expected to be rather different.

Not completely different, obviously. American flags, several recognizable corporate logos, people speaking an English similar to his own save for bits and pieces of his slang… One could, at first, believe it was the same America he had spent most of his life in.

But then, one would observe a bit further (at least, if one was was a self-professed supergenius who had adopted "Checkmate Warren" as his nom de guerre). And then one would notice details, and draw conclusions.

Significant amount of the population below poverty level. Limited effort spent on billboards and other forms of advertising. The poverty could be due to being in the bad part of town, but limited effort in the design of adverts suggested a bad economy on a national level.

Large proportion of Asian individuals, in particular Japanese. Strong immigration, despite probable bad economy. Japanese situation even worse?

Cars almost exclusively of American make. Some rare foreign cars, of roughly comparable quality. Same with cell phones. Limited international trade?

General oppressive atmosphere. He'd seen that once, among a population that felt a growing certainty in its incoming doom.

Gang colors. Strong criminal activity. Typical of bad economy combined with rushed, desperate immigration. Graffiti marking territory. "E88". Eight-Eight. H-H. Heil Hitler. 88 was a frequently-used code for neonazis and white supremacists. Did Hitler exist in the local timeline? Racist ideology would be particularly appealing to a poor majority faced with strong immigration.

Existing advertisements not offering much in terms of long-term possibilities. Cell phone plans, car credit, banks… all making offers over months instead of years. Limited hope and belief in the future. Business plans based on the short term, suggesting unstable, unpredictable global environment.

Various superhero merchandising too consistent in representation, suggesting real-world models. Near-complete absence of matching supervillain paraphernalia also suggested real-world basis - in his world, for every ten Superman shirts there would have been a Darkseid one. In a world of empowered individuals (such as the previously encountered metahuman), supervillain merchandising would be tasteless, akin to wearing a Bin Laden t-shirt.

Other than the Japanese, reasonable number of immigrants. Contrails in the sky. Aircrafts still common, international flights still open, borders not shut down. Lack of international trade probably caused not by diplomatic difficulties, but by physical problem in the oceans that made shipping either impractical or dangerous. Super-powered pirates? Something else?

Chinese cultural items sparse, discrete; clearly-Chinese restaurants presenting themselves as Vietnamese. China unpopular; possible cold war. Possibly related to what happened to Japan? Unlikely, Japanese patriotism likely to flare in such a situation.

There was a lot he could learn from a few minutes of observation. But clearly, he needed more, and preferably soon. Thankfully, the local dollar bills looked identical to those he had brought with him.




A short time later, sitting at an Internet café, he began browsing. The World Wide Web, while still recognizable as such, was a very different beast here; he noted with some annoyance the absence of Google, and the inferior quality of available search engines.

The news.

The Protectorate.

Parahumans.

History.

The Endbringers.

Class S threats.

The Chinese Imperial Union.

ParaHumans Online.

Brockton Bay.

His eyes glanced at the computer's clock. Many hours and coffee cups had passed. Over a full day since he'd last eaten. But the sheer amount of information - and what could be inferred from it - was staggering.

These parahuman abilities were clearly designed as excellent demonstrations of Clarke's Third Law. No-one on Earth could engineer such a thing. Their origin was, clearly, either alien, or trans-temporal. Worryingly, the ratio of parahumans that turned to crime was unexpectedly high, despite the government's best efforts to promote more constructive behavior. This suggested that something about the process either targeted people likely to go bad, or somehow destabilized them. Intentional, or side-effect? Given how an overwhelming majority of powers seemed designed for combat purpose, the former seemed likely.

More in-depth research revealed the process by which powers were gained, and confirmed its destabilizing nature: Individuals "triggered" as parahumans while experiencing trauma, which no doubt went a long way toward driving some of them to crime and antisocial tendencies (though perhaps not enough to explain the sheer prevalence of villains). More worrisome, however, was the fact that in-depth research was needed in order to dig up such a fact. In a world full of colorful superheroes and supervillains, the question "how does one acquire superpowers?" ought to have been one of the first on everyone's lips. That the majority of this world seemed entirely unaware of trigger events and their mechanics was highly disconcerting, and suggested some extremely subtle form of social control hidden behind the scenes. Definitely something to investigate.

Of parahuman abilities, the most interesting ones were those classified as "Thinker" and "Tinker". Quite tellingly, reverse-engineering or mass-producing Tinker-made technology seemed almost impossible to common engineers. He considered himself a rather uncommon one, and looked forward to examining tinkertech as soon as the chance came… but more interesting, perhaps, were the implications. Whoever (or whatever) was empowering Tinkers was placing inside their heads the blueprints for devices decades, perhaps centuries ahead of the Earth's technological curve, along with an instinctive understanding of such. However, the agents of this empowerment were carefully crippling the Tinkers, ensuring the technology would be limited to their personal use or nearly so. A defense mechanism to avoid giving humanity too much of an edge? A balancing mechanism, ensuring that Tinkers didn't become too powerful compared to other parahumans? A bit of both?

Western laws (both official and unofficial) regarding supervillains were cringe-inducing to learn about. Placing all but the worst offenders in prisons they could easily escape from, covering up their secret identities… while such curtailing of personal liberties as the Birdcage could be explained as a desperate measure against the chaos that parahumans could wreak upon society, this methodology seemed instead designed to encourage a growing number of parahumans to remain in operation, regardless of which side of the law they worked in. Such an approach made some sense if one wanted to maximize the number of superpowered boots on the ground in the event of an Endbringer attack, but the first Endbringer sighting had taken place in 1992, whereas these measures were already being pushed in the years leading up to that. Could some political factions have seen Behemoth coming? Officially, Endbringers were invisible to all forms of precognition (a statement supported by the inability of the parahuman community to properly prepare for any given attack), but there may have been other ways.

Scion seemed to be at the epicenter of the parahuman phenomenon. He had appeared first, was vastly more powerful than any parahuman on record, and behaved in manners suggesting an abnormal mindset. Something to look into.

Class S threats were troubling. Nilbog was a veritable sword of Damocles hanging over North America's head. Slaughterhouse Nine… reading about them, he quickly reached the simple conclusion that by and large, they were going to die in the near future.

Most worrying were the Endbringers. They were vastly overpowered - well, comparatively speaking, he thought with a smirk as he remembered some of the threats that had menaced his own world - and waging a long-drawn campaign of terror across the world. Judging from their ability and strategy, it was clear that the extinction of mankind was not their goal. If it had been, then Behemoth would have detonated the Yellowstone supervolcano. Leviathan would have directed warm, tropical oceanic currents into Antarctica. The Simurgh would have started a nuclear war (or caused the release of a super-plague, or caused Nilbog to rampage across the world…). No, their campaign clearly served a different goal, and looking at the effects of their actions, he suspected he could guess what.

Warren considered himself first and foremost a strategist. A mastermind who tackled seemingly-impossible challenges, and found the winning tactic that overcame the greatest obstacle. This world - Earth-Bet, as it referred to itself, having already been in contact with another Earth - was already turning into a fascinating challenge. Plans were quickly forming in his head. Plans for the world. Shorter-term plans for this Brockton Bay, to get a feel on the situation. However...

However, one thing was different this time. The third Endbringer. The Simurgh. By all appearance, it was possessed of a precognitive ability so powerful, it could orchestrate battles so as to avoid most hits and plan events months ahead by tweaking the brains of specific individuals.

Any plan one came up with, the Simurgh could see coming.

Any strategy you designed, the Simurgh would have a counter for ready in advance.

Any action you took, the Simurgh could direct to serve her twisted goal.

She was an impassable roadblock on the path to victory.

With a slight smile, he took a sip of bitter coffee. "Challenge accepted."

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[sun tzu]

<-- -->​

ARC 1: ENTERS THE MASTERMIND

1.1

Back home, Warren had often relied on technology that others considered years ahead of its time. Some of it had been of his own design, such as the impulse gun, the cybernetic battlesuit (which, he grudgingly conceded, looked like a caveman's toy compared to those deployed by Dragon), the C-bomb (admittedly, not his proudest achievement in retrospect), and more. Some had involved adapting other people's work, such as Professor Hart's admittedly brilliant thermodynamic devices, the nanotechnology of Quentin Industries, or the literally alien technology of Heavyland.

All of it, however, shared a common weakness: It relied on the specific physics of his homeworld. On Earth Bet, none of it would work as such. His computerized glasses were the only device on his person that worked at the moment; dimensional travel would require months, perhaps years, to adapt to local physics. He was practically starting from scratch.

To make things worse, Earth Bet was… less-than-friendly to dimensional travelers. Contact with Earth Aleph had apparently been tense, regrettably (the opportunities of inter-dimensional cooperation were staggering, after all), and an undocumented traveler would likely find themselves in quite a spot of trouble. His official documents wouldn't pass a glancing inspection. As for the money he had brought with him, it was far from infinite. A few thousand dollars, which he suspected would run out quickly. In short, he was operating with no support, and very little resources.

So, just like old times, he thought with a smirk. After all, he had always been fond of saying that the true strategist could turn any situation to his advantage. He intended to prove that st-

He paused, realizing he'd been about to dramatically raise his index finger as he launched into a monologue. It dawned on him that he well and truly needed to find some sort of assistant to whom he could provide exposition; he'd lost the habit of operating alone.

Well, no reason to make the cashier impatient. He paid for his purchase of electronics, heading back toward the hotel.




"Not exactly a five-star location, but I've worked in worse," he said to no-one in particular as he unpacked in his room. "Let's see… laptop. Somewhat behind my world on the technological curve, but that's to be expected with the Endbringers ravaging the global economy in general and Japan in particular. Still, it will prove useful. No less important is the electronic kit; since I cannot rely on the blueprints I have designed over the years, I will need to begin experimenting at once to see what does and does not work in this universe. Though I doubt I can match so-called tinkertech in an acceptable timeframe, a few handy gadgets might very well make my life significantly easier. No less important is the ability to tune in to police frequencies, since I will need to keep track of troubling events in the area, both for the sake of my own safety and possible opportunities.

"In the meanwhile, I am apparently back to expositing to myself. A dreadful habit that I must henceforth strive to lose."




Coding. Tinkering. Researching. Planning. So much to do, so little time. Earth-Bet had so much that required fixing, and the more he looked at it, the more it seemed that discretion would be required. The Simurgh was an obvious obstacle to any large-scale beneficial change, seeing as she would target anyone capable of effecting it, much like Sphere. Looking at it, however, Warren suspected there were other influences working behind the scenes. With Thinker (and to a lesser extent, Stranger and Master) powers, this world seemed ripe for shadowy conspiracies to emerge at both the local and global level - as long as the conspirators were reasonably competent, of course. Several things about the world as it was were suspicious; he suspected that in order to discover what was going on, he would need to cobble a social sonar.

A sonar, to put it simply, sent out a vibration, and sensed it echoing off the objects it needed to detect. In the world of espionage and investigation, some organizations relied on social sonars - sending a big change through an environment, and observing how everyone reacted to it in order to ferret out secrets. Upend the status quo, see how the world scrambles to react. Of course, to use such a technique safely, he would need to establish a safe position for himself first-

"Dispatch, we have reports of numerous ABB in..."

The warning on the police frequencies went on to specify a neighborhood in the docks. No matter. Taking care of the gangs could wait until-

Wait. His earlier research of Brockton Bay's underworld had shown that the zone in question was generally believed to be the territory of the Undersiders, a minor gang of teenage villains specialized in smash-and-grab. It could be a coincidence, of course-

No, it could not. The Undersiders had recently graduated from jewelry store thefts to raiding a casino - one that, according to some local PHO posters, was the property of the ABB. Judging from what he had read about the ABB in general and their leader in particular, he estimated a 96% likelihood that this was retaliation. Deadly retaliation, of course. In fact, he realized, he should have put that information together and realized this was coming, before it happened. Shoddy. Still, this sort of thing happened all the time the world over, and he wasn't ready to reveal himself yet; he could afford to simply leave the Protectorate a tip and let events take their course-

No, he couldn't. If this was indeed retaliation against the Undersiders, there was an 85% likelihood of Lung personally participating.

This turn of events was far from welcome. He had been reading up on local villains. Lung was a psychotic juggernaut who was clearly only being tolerated in the hope that he might be useful should an Endbringer come to the area. He was ridiculously powerful, far from stupid (as evidenced by the fact that E88 hadn't yet managed to kill him while he was powered down, despite their impressive roster), and, no less importantly, a key element of Brockton Bay's balance of power. Removing him would throw that balance in disarray (showing Warren's own hand in the process), and it was too early for such a measure.

However… to stand aside while Lung rampaged (which was looking like a likely development) would endanger a significant chunk of the city. The villain could set entire neighborhoods on fire as collateral damage.

"Typical," Warren muttered as he began heading out.




Getting to the location quickly was simple enough. True, he had been in no position to purchase a motorized vehicle, forcing him to rely on a bicycle instead… but as it happened, his hotel was in the docks area, having been selected for its low price more than anything else.

As such, he was in hearing range when the screaming started.

As he discarded his vehicle, he saw terrified thugs in ABB colors running away, their faces covered in… were those insect bites? PHO had not mentioned any insect-controller in Brockton Bay, but there were mundane ways of achieving such a result. (Not that he had ever thrown a beehive in the midst of his classmates as a child, of course. His hometown suffered from a frustrating lack of convenient beehives.)

From the light and sound, it seemed that the pyrotechnics were starting, confirming Lung's presence. Regrettable. That also meant he was on a timer, seeing how Lung's power increased over the duration of his battles.

As he glanced from behind a corner and saw the infamous supervillain starting to grow metal plates, he noticed the highly-coordinated behavior of the insect swarm. Definitely the result of parahuman abilities. He noted approvingly the rush of poisonous insects toward the villain's privates; that was an appropriate tactical move. People in nearby building were becoming aware of the superpowered fight, meaning that the Protectorate would soon be sending its forces. Unfortunately, by the time they got there, Lung would already be powered up by his battle against the insect swarm. This had the potential to result in a devastating confrontation that left much of the docks a burning wreck.

Which raised the question: How to quickly defeat a foe who kept growing larger?

Well. There were ways.

Glancing at a nearby building, he began ascending its fire escape ladder. Not too quickly - he didn't want the noise to attract Lung before he reached the top - but not slowly, since the villain was gaining power by the second. As he climbed, he gave some additional thought to the insect controller. Low probability that they were members of any gang, given that they had attacked alone (low, but not zero. Stupidity was not unheard of among criminals). In fact, that they attacked Lung solo suggested one of two things: Either they were foolishly arrogant, or they were desperate to stop the villain's plans. An ally of the Undersiders, stumbling upon a plan to kill their teammates? A vigilante, trying to prevent unnecessary deaths? More likely the former.

There was, of course, a third explanation for the entomokinesist's behavior: They were aware of his own presence, thanks to a precognitive power. Not his favorite possibility.

He was not entirely surprised to see a probable teenager in a dark bug-themed costume on the roof once he reached it. It made sense that the bug controller would wish for a high position, where they could be harder to spot and reach. Still, there had been multiple buildings that offered that possibility (and, depending on range and sensory abilities, they might have been able to run the entire operation from a much safer distance); to end up on the same rooftop was mere coincidence.

The insect controller turned their head toward him - her head, he determined - and opened her mouth for a moment as if to speak before thinking better of it, presumably focusing on the fight instead. Good. She was being sensible, at least, which made things easier-

The building shook. He could guess why. That Lung had detected them suggested he developed enhanced perception as he grew in power, on top of everything else.

The girl paused. "He's climbing the wall, and most of the way up," she said in his direction. Interesting - could she see through her swarm? Sense Lung by other means? Did she have spotters and viewscreens embedded in her costume's lenses? He noticed she had several tools with her. Epipens - smart, and it suggested that she was concerned about potentially killing the people she fought. A pouch of white dust that he had no time to identify (drugs to knock out particularly tough opponents with?). A pepper spray for which she was reaching now. Once more, he found that he approved - this girl had a tactical mind, and had come prepared. Having gone shopping earlier for some self-defence tools himself, he noted that her pepper spray was a fairly cheap one; probably working or lower-middle class (so, probably no viewscreens in those lenses).

As the fires approached, and the girl lay in ambush with her pepper spray, he ripped a TV antenna from the roof, and made some quick calculations. He needed 180, give or take a few. At this height, considering Earth's gravity, and Lung's size and shape…

Lung's hand appeared, gripping the ledge. His head and torso followed. Warren, hunkering down, noted that one of his eyes was closed, seemingly injured - had the girl aimed her bugs there? Another good move.

The pepper spray came. First a miss, then a direct hit. Lung roared. Despite the obvious pain, he still managed to climb up and stand on the ledge.

Which was when Warren rammed him with his shoulder.

Lung was several times bigger and heavier, but balance was still balance. It was also, as was the case, lost. As Warren quickly stepped back to avoid getting caught by the villain's massive hands, he watched him flail in a desperate attempt not to go over the edge.

In that instant, he cursed internally. Not because of the pain in his shoulder (definitely first degree burns, possible second), but rather because he had miscalculated. With Lung's feet on the ledge acting as his fulcrum, at this angle, the final number would be too far from 180. Corrections were needed.

He extended the antenna toward Lung's hand. Lung, most of his body already over the ledge, caught it, desperately trying to pull himself back up.

Warren waited a split-second, then let go of the antenna. Lung fell. Thanks to the small correction to his trajectory, he rotated approximately 180 degrees (give or take) before hitting the ground on his head.

Warren and the girl both gazed down. Lung had cracked the pavement with his fall. He didn't seem to be moving.

"The downside of a body that grows larger," Warren commented. "The square-cube law is no friend of yours."

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[Query]

Huh Checkmate, good name.

Bit disappointed that he was instantly warped to BB rather then exploring the world and having the plot slowly reel him in.
Still nice that Warren seems to have a good head on his shoulders and wastes no time getting his priorities in order.

Though just a note I believe that Lung when he was fighting Skitter had his body wreathed in flames to avoid being attacked by her insects. That would make it difficult to 'push' him as the area around Lung can get pretty damn hot.

 

[LoverOfParadoxicalFate]

this... is interesting

 

[hpackrat]

So far, I am impressed. Let's see if you can stay the course. I do wonder how his money would be good on Earth Bet though. For all we know, they might use different images or materials in their bills.

 

[sun tzu]

Though just a note I believe that Lung when he was fighting Skitter had his body wreathed in flames to avoid being attacked by her insects. That would make it difficult to 'push' him as the area around Lung can get pretty damn hot.

Click to shrink...

I'd actually intended to include a short line about Warren getting burns from even such a short contact, and forgot. Corrected.

 

[landcollector]

Glad to see this has its own thread. Like I said in the fic discussion thread, I'm looking forward to more.

 

[Mal-3]

I...

Hm.

I want to like this. The background premise is interesting - it beats all hell out of the 'random bloop by ROB/Ziz' thing most OCs and SIs use, and it mirrors some thoughts I've had on a similar project - but at the same time it's not quite grabbing me. This Checkmate guy really doesn't seem to have much of a character: he's dry to the point of flavorless. For all that he's out to save Bet his reactions read more like 'detached tourist' which might fit the character concept but he honestly doesn't make for compelling reading. Maybe this'll change if the story goes on, kind of hope it does tbh.

 

[Edmantgoog]

i am now imagining this guy looking like your avatar

 

[Chojomeka]

This definitely has me intrigued, I wonder how different things will go...also the meeting with Tattletale will likely be hilarious!

 

[sun tzu]

<-- -->​

1.2

Lung was probably alive, though at this stage, Warren had no intention to go check up close. The villain might be hovering on the brink of consciousness, after all. Zooming in with his glasses, however, he could confirm he was still breathing.

Which now left him the luxury to focus on the insect controller. He gave her a look.

Costume made of a material he couldn't identify at first glance. Fabric invented in this universe but not his own?

Dark colors suggesting villainous intentions and/or rudimentary attempt at camouflage - in practice, night camouflage required less uniform motifs. Epipens suggested strong concern for human life, even enemies.

Control over insects… No. Multiple spiders on Lung. Control over arthropods? ...Of course. Costume almost certainly made out of spider silk.

Amount of silk in costume and work required to make it, even with parahuman control over spiders, indicated significant amount of time spent creating it. A few weeks at a minimum. Hadn't rushed into action with newfound powers. Combined with the pepper spray and epipens, this painted the picture of someone who took her time to plan this sort of thing.

Solo attack on Lung indicated either reckless arrogance or desperation (or precognition). The first possibility was now implausible, strongly suggesting the second. Willing to risk life against most powerful villain of Brockton Bay to protect Undersiders. Close ally of Undersiders, or just strong desire to protect human life?

Excellent control over massive swarm of arthropods. Very powerful ability. Either general swarm control, or individual control of each individual member which would necessitate some Thinker ability to coordinate them properly. Some degree of perception via swarm; depending on level of detail, possibly armed with excellent data-gathering tool.

Cheap pepper spray. Working class, lower middle class, or possibly given spray by someone else. No cell phone - probable low income, almost certainly no team. Improbable affiliation with Undersiders; attack on Lung likely motivated by heroic impulses. Costume colors likely intended for camouflage, but failed to fully research camouflage patterns. Villainous look of costume possibly intended for intimidation factor. Poor grasp of the PR factor?

Likely heroic impulses, likely spent months preparing, not a Ward. Mistrust of PRT? Unwillingness to take orders? Desire to operate solo?

One thing, finally, was clear: While the girl's inexperience was showing in a few details, she had just proven herself a very talented amateur, able to both prepare and improvise. Silk armor, tools, excellent use of arthropods, good positioning, the pepper spray ambush, and keeping cool while under fire (almost literally) - all on what was increasingly looking like her first parahuman fight. She had potential.

"Is he alive?" Unaware of his analysis, she was gazing down at Lung's form.

"Affirmative. Though I would still suggest maintaining a respectable distance. That said, we can probably get off this roof," he said, gesturing at the fire escape. And very intentionally letting her go first. Her turning on him at this stage seemed very unlikely, but just in case his analysis was wrong, her preferred to have her in front of him. It wouldn't protect him from her insects, but he could shove her off the railings and/or tase her if came to it.

She began climbing down. "So…" she said in a hesitant tone, "I'm sorry, but who are you?"

Ah. That question. He had not wanted to make any big waves for the first week or two, establishing a base and an ability to act discreetly before he started becoming a factor. Thanks to Lung, that plan was now in dire need of adaptation. Still, he had given some thought to how he should answer… If possible, there were specific conclusions about himself that he wanted people to reach.

"Need-to-know basis," he stated in a neutral tone. "What about you?"

"I don't… I haven't picked a name yet," she said, sounding slightly annoyed - presumably at his asking for her identity without revealing his own. "I wasn't expecting to find Lung."

"You found him with your power?"

"Yeah. Well, the ABB gathering, before he showed up. He was telling them to kill kids."

Ah. Most likely, referring to the Undersiders. If true, that would explain why she had gone against Lung despite all her disadvantages.

"You performed well," he stated as she reached the ground. "There is room for improvement, but it was a more than satisfying early performance." He mentally kicked himself for that statement. Not the most diplomatic thing to say - once again, allowing perfectionism to get the better of him. He quickly amended: "Epipens, pepper spray… You are displaying a greater degree of preparedness than I would expect from most people."

"Why wouldn't someone prepare for something like this?" Her question sounded aimed more at herself than him, and he only barely managed to keep himself from laughing.

"The average human being…" he paused. "The average human being, to put it charitably, is intellectually lazy. They see the clues in their surroundings, but they don't take the time to put them together. They watch their world, but they don't step back to reflect on it from a better perspective. They try to solve their problems, but they do not look past the most obvious solutions." He paused again, forcing out the part that was harder for him to say: "No-one is completely exempt from this tendency. Not you, not me. Thinking - truly thinking - is a habit that one must continually strive to grow into."

"I guess…" She stopped mid-sentence, and he soon saw why. They had company.

The first to be noticed, of course, were the gigantic monstrous-looking quadrupedal juggernauts. The pets of Rachel Lindt, aka Hellhound. Hellhound herself, of course, was present, and looking ready for a fight.

Grue. Able to generate a field of darkness. Presumably able to perceive his environment just fine within that field, judging from his effectiveness. The costume… homemade, built with an eye for practicality without losing sight of the intimidation effect. Pragmatic.

Tattletale. Powers unknown, so presumably of a subtle nature, most likely Master or Thinker. Costume clearly not designed for combat; mask hiding as little of face as possible while still preventing facial identification. Showoff.

Fourth member, not listed on PHO. Laid back attitude. Costume indicative of artistic side. Scepter might hide a weapon. Tinker?

A few tactics for taking them out ran through his head. On the other hand… he'd already dealt with one dangerous situation tonight; the Undersiders weren't an immediate enough threat to justify stumbling into a fight with them unprepared.

Grue was the first to speak. "You guys took out Lung?"

"They did," Tattletale confirmed, sounding pleased with herself. "Poisonous bugs, pepper spray, and an ambush to push him off a roof."

Correct. More fuel for the conjecture that she had a Thinker power. Then again… those were the same conclusions he would have drawn. The possibility dawned on him that Tattletale might not have powers at all, and simply thrive thanks to natural genius, like he did. Definitely someone to watch.

"Then you really saved us a lot of trouble," said Grue. "When we got word Lung was aiming to come after us tonight, we were pretty freaked. We were arguing strategy for the better part of the day. We eventually decided, fuck it, we’d meet him halfway. Wing it. Not my usual way of doing things, but yeah. Wouldn’t you know, his flunky Lee is there with a half dozen guys, but Lung and the rest of his gang are nowhere to be found. Lee’s no slouch in a fight, but there’s a reason he’s not leader of the ABB. He got spooked without his boss there and ran."

The arthrokinesist wasn't saying a word. Presumably, she was dealing with a combination of adrenaline comedown and the realization that she'd just risked her life rescuing a gang of villains. Or perhaps that last bit had not sunk in yet, depending on her deductive skills and familiarity with the Brockton Bay underworld.

Grue went on: "Introductions. That’s Tattletale. I’m Grue. The girl with the dogs… We call her Bitch, her preference, but in the interests of being PG, the good guys and media decided to call her Hellhound instead. Last and certainly least, we have Regent."

"Fuck you, Grue." A chuckle. Not really offended. Laid back, not much of an ego. Intra-team relations generally relaxed. Not feeling overly threatened; probably assuming the girl was a villain, and that he himself either was one by association, or had no power, just as he had no mask. Regent was likely a new addition; considering recruitment? Grue taking the lead in social situation; either team leader or party face.

"Hey, you guys OK?" said Grue. Likely basic concern for safety of others. Criminal out of necessity?

It was Tattletale again who spoke up. "He's only got some first-degree burns on his shoulder, and he's toughing it out easy. The reason they're not introducing themselves are because she's shy, and he wants to figure us out without revealing details about himself." She grinned smugly. "They're not exactly a team, it's the first time they meet." All true, all possible to figure out from observation and inference. Even so, she sounded rather sure of herself.

Tattletale seemed ready to say something else, but stopped. "Heads up. We've gotta scram."

The Undersiders offered them a ride, probably still thinking that they were villains - well, actually, he suspected Tattletale knew better and was going along with it for some reason. Regardless, the arthrokinesist declined, and he followed suit. Before leaving, though, the blond girl did ask for their names.

"I haven't picked one yet," said the arthrokinesist, now slightly annoyed.

He maintained a steady gaze, allowing a moment to pass. "Need-to-know basis."

Tattletale chuckled. "Well, Bug and Glasses, a cape is gonna show up in less than a minute. You did us a solid by dealing with Lung, so take my advice. Someone from the Protectorate shows up, finds two bad guys duking it out, they’re not going to let one walk away. You should get out of here." She was addressing the girl more than him.

He watched as the Undersiders departed. So far, the evening had not been a total loss. He had earned some information, including the presence of two additional parahumans in town (leading him to wonder how many more might be in hiding). Several individuals owed him a debt. For good or ill, Lung was about to be arrested.

On the other hand, he had shown his hand too early in the game, revealing his existence to multiple individuals. All the plans he had been coming up with would require significant adjustments. He noted in passing that whatever his new plans ended up being, they would definitely need to account for Tattletale. One way or another.

"Are you going to leave?"

The question had come from the arthrokinesist. Understandable. She was wondering now if he was a villain too. Not an impression he wished to convey, and he still wanted to learn more about her. On the other hand, he had already revealed too much information to the Undersiders; he did not wish to add the PRT, too.

"With all due respect to the PRT," he said, keeping his voice even, "I have enough paperwork to take care of without adding theirs. I will be waiting two blocks Eastward if you wish to discuss tonight's events any further, or need any assistance. You may reveal my involvement or keep it to yourself at your discretion." He turned to leave, and paused. "Oh, and one more thing: It is not uncommon for captured parahumans to be sedated with heavy tranquilizers. Given that such tranquilizers can often hinder parahuman abilities, and that Lung's regeneration is likely keeping him alive at the moment, you may wish to inform the Protectorate of the massive amounts of toxins currently coursing through his veins."

"I… I'll keep that in mind," she said, slightly rattled.




He stood behind a corner as she arrived. The voice recorder in his glasses was nowhere near advanced enough to let him overhear the conversation she had had with the Protectorate's representative, but listening in on police frequencies had told him that Armsmaster had been on the way. Armsmaster - from his research, clearly a workaholic Tinker who actually went far beyond what most would accomplish with such a power. Armsmaster didn't talk much on public appearances, indicating either a lack of interest in the PR element or a lack of social skills. The latter would not make him the ideal person to talk to a shell-shocked teenage parahuman.

"I hope it went well?" he asked, trying to sound casual this time.

"He thought I was a villain at first," she said. "Did you?"

"The costume suggested villainy," he answered frankly. "The fact that you carry epipens suggested heroism. The fact that you attempted to take on Lung by yourself suggested either reckless imbecility, or exceptional heroism." He paused. "A reckless imbecile might have taken the high ground, brought epipens, armed herself with a pepper spray, or fashioned armor out of spider silk, but she wouldn't have done all of these things. As such, I ended up estimating a fairly high probability of heroic intentions on your part."

She paused, slightly taken aback. "Is the costume really that bad?"

"Bad? It functions as armor. It certainly has style. That style, however, is more reminiscent of Halloween than of the 4th of July."

That actually got a small chuckle out of her. "Well, I wanted something that worked as camouflage, and maybe intimidate criminals…"

"I gathered as much. I would suggest looking into camouflage patterns; a solid coloration will catch the eye to some extent, even if it's dark. Even at night. As for intimidation…" he allowed himself a grin, "...you attack your foes with swarms of stinging insects. I would say you are fairly well covered one way or another."

"I guess." She looked away for a bit. "I'm letting Armsmaster take the credit for Lung," she said with a small hint of bitterness. "I also told him you were the one who finished him. He had questions, but, well, I don't even know if you have powers."

He grinned. "In this business, it pays to be secretive." She was unhappy about letting Armsmaster take the credit. Unsurprising, of course. Was Armsmaster motivated by her safety from the inevitable ABB retaliation, by his own careerist impulses, or a mix of both? "Standard procedure would involve also offering you Wards membership."

"He mentioned the possibility," she admitted. "But… I'm not seeing it."

"A shame. Your tactical abilities would be an asset to any team. I suspect the Undersiders might try to recruit you in the near future."

"Wha… I'm not a villain," she stated, but then she fell silent.

Given the deductive capabilities Tattletale had displayed, he suspected the villainess would soon be aware of that fact, and may well have been already. Nonetheless, she had tried to direct the arthrokinesist away from the PRT, offered her a ride… It wasn't necessarily the first step of a recruitment pitch, but the possibility was all too real. "That may not necessarily deter them. People aren't born villains, they become criminals. Even non-powered gangs often recruit youths with no criminal record who are gradually warped until they become genuine mobsters." He left her ten seconds to digest that information before pursuing: "You said you were allowing Armsmaster to take the credit for Lung. Concern over ABB retaliation?"

She nodded. "He said there were two other capes in the ABB. Oni Lee and Bakuda. Bakuda's a bomb Tinker."

"That information is available to anyone with some moderate digging," he pointed out. "You have clearly put admirable amounts of effort into preparing yourself for this, but you don't seem to have researched your enemies as well as you could have." Seeing as she didn't answer immediately, he went on: "Intelligence - in the espionnage sense of the word - is one of the keys to victory in conflict. All the decisions and plans we make are based on the information available to us. Gathering information, ergo, is no less important than thinking about what to actually do." With that mask, he couldn't tell if she was frowning. He decided to play it safe: "I am not trying to diminish your accomplishments tonight. For a newcomer, the degree of preparedness and tactical thinking you have displayed, as well as your ability to remain tactical while under extreme pressure, is nothing short of exceptional. If you survive what's about to come, you will likely become one of the greats."

That got a reaction. "What's about to come? What do you mean? The ABB?"

"The ABB will be the first phase," he nodded. "Lung, bestial though his mindset may be, is deceptively cunning. He will have arrangements made for his escape. Between a teleporter, a bomb-oriented Tinker, and the entire ABB, those arrangements will no doubt be… problematic. However, no less noteworthy is what will come afterward. Suppose that Lung does, indeed, get sent to the Birdcage, and that the ABB falls. The power equilibrium of the city would immediately be upset to a monumental degree. Empire 88 will see it as their chance to take control of the city, and they will fight the Merchants tooth and nail for every neighborhood. The other parahuman underworld elements - the Undersiders, Coil, Faultline, and more - may play into this conflict in any number of ways. One way or another, Brockton Bay is in for a massive parahuman gang war."

Even through the mask, she seemed aghast. "That wasn't…"

"I do hope you are not blaming yourself," he said, frowning. "This war was years in the making. The equilibrium between the gangs was always a highly precarious one. If you hadn't disturbed it, someone else would have - tomorrow, next week, next year. One does not prevent WWI by saving the archduke Ferdinand."

He noted her crossing her arms at that last part. Upset by historical analogy. Strong dislike of school? Worth testing. He deliberately winced. "Ergh. If I start sounding any more like my high school History teacher, you are hereby awarded a free shot. With a brown recluse."

She turned her head back to him. "You didn't like your History teacher?"

"I am not authorized to discuss particulars, so all I will say is that quite frankly, I hated my entire school." That last part was virtually true. There'd been one person in his school he'd respected, and he'd broken five of their fingers while laughing manicly. That tidbit might be best shared at a different time. A different, significantly later time.

She nodded. High likelihood of miserable school life, explaining her unwillingness to join the Wards. Then she went on: "So, what am I supposed to do? Can the Protectorate contain this thing? New Wave? What can be done?"

He smiled. Going from problem to solutions in no time. Another positive trait. "At this stage? We gather data. We strategize. Then we remove the most problematic elements from the stage. In all likelihood, the highest-priority targets will be parahumans with a tendency toward extensive collateral damage." A pause. "Frankly, the data-gathering is the hard part. Once enemy parahumans have been located and correct battle preparations have been made, taking them down is generally easier than it was with Lung."

As he expected, that gave her pause before she replied: "And I can see through my bugs. Not very well, and I'm still learning how to use it, but it might help with this."

"Indeed," he said, still smiling. It wasn't a warm smile - it was a grin that relished a coming battle. "So tell me, arthrokinesist - how interested would you be in severely curtailing the ability of Brockton Bay's villains to bully its population?"

Yes, he believed this evening was going to be far from a total loss in the end.

<-- -->​

 

[Cosmoline]

Yep, this is going to be fun.

My heart warms with the violence and conflict to come.

Also, sun tzu, if you would be so kind... I think that the chapter navigation arrows would be best placed at the bottom of each, rather than the top.

 

[Stormseed]

"So tell me, anthrokinesist - how interested would you be in severely curtailing the ability of Brockton Bay's villains to bully its population?"

Click to shrink...

This should be arthrokinesis.

 

[landcollector]

This should be arthrokinesis.

Click to shrink...

Not if he is talking to the person utilizing said arthrokinesis.

 

[Cosmoline]

No, no, it's a typo- arthro(podo)kinesist, as opposed to anthrokinesist, someone who controls furries.

Oh god, why are these words coming out of my mouth.

 

[defuse00]

Quick note, Earth Bet currency might differ considering how they how one dollar coins and no pennies.

 

[Mal-3]

Serioustalk: Your POV character needs a personality like right now. A huge chunk of this scene is him expositing inside his head and outside and it's all flat. No affect, no inner thoughts beyond Wikipedia-level summaries and extrapolation. He's a total cold fish, beige, uninteresting, he doesn't even fake emotion convincingly. If Warren's going to be where the camera focuses most of this time in this story then he needs to have something more than flat dialogue and minimal emotional cues to make him interesting. I'm not trying to be an asshole about this, it's just... this guy needs more work before I'd call him a good main character.

 

[AsCaLus]

No, no, it's a typo- arthro(podo)kinesist, as opposed to anthrokinesist, someone who controls furries.

Click to shrink...

... Whut. I would ask how you know that, but I'm honestly afraid of the answer I'd recieve.

Back on topic! I really don't have anything to say about this story, but then again, it's only 2 chapters in right now. I think I'll wait a little longer before passing judgement, but I can't spot any overt errors that haven't already been pointed out.

 

[cookiemontser]

I was waiting for him to outsmart Tt, but he kinda just stood there and did nothing.

 

[LacksCreativity]

I was waiting for him to outsmart Tt, but he kinda just stood there and did nothing.

Click to shrink...

I dunno, sounds like a good way to outsmart Tt in a lot of situations.

 

[landcollector]

I dunno, sounds like a good way to outsmart Tt in a lot of situations.

Click to shrink...

Sometimes, the only winning move is not to play.

 

[Teal_Thanatos]

Serioustalk: Your POV character needs a personality like right now. A huge chunk of this scene is him expositing inside his head and outside and it's all flat. No affect, no inner thoughts beyond Wikipedia-level summaries and extrapolation. He's a total cold fish, beige, uninteresting, he doesn't even fake emotion convincingly. If Warren's going to be where the camera focuses most of this time in this story then he needs to have something more than flat dialogue and minimal emotional cues to make him interesting. I'm not trying to be an asshole about this, it's just... this guy needs more work before I'd call him a good main character.

Click to shrink...

That's a personality. I've read the Artemis Fowl books which are all based around a child genius and this reads a little similar somehow to those.

 

[Lordpanther14]

Quick note, Earth Bet currency might differ considering how they how one dollar coins and no pennies.

Click to shrink...

This was also something that stuck out to me, his one dollar bills should be a telling oddity and while its possible higher denominations may still be the same. Considering how regularly currency can change over periods of decades and the point of divergence already messing with the currency, I wouldn't consider that unlikely his money is any good in this dimension.

I found the progression of events to be interesting though I was going to cry foul when he naturally picked up on Trigger Events when there are so many other false theories floating around. I'd think it'd be much more natural for him to come to that conclusion after speaking to numerous parahumans instead of just concluding that trigger events are the truthful theory right off the bat. Still the fact that he acknowledges that he had to dig for the secret removed most of my concern about him discovering plot relevant secrets too quickly.

I think that there are some hints of a very disturbed past with Checkmates memories of School, so right now I'm more curious about what he's done over what he's going to do in the future. The method of how the Undersiders would recruit Taylor was explained in a very reasonable way. I'm curious to see how Coil's plays will go and if you'll go with the typical no sell to him and his power with the introduction of Checkmate or if they'll have a real duel of wits.

 

[Ohma]

Serioustalk: Your POV character needs a personality like right now. A huge chunk of this scene is him expositing inside his head and outside and it's all flat. No affect, no inner thoughts beyond Wikipedia-level summaries and extrapolation. He's a total cold fish, beige, uninteresting, he doesn't even fake emotion convincingly. If Warren's going to be where the camera focuses most of this time in this story then he needs to have something more than flat dialogue and minimal emotional cues to make him interesting. I'm not trying to be an asshole about this, it's just... this guy needs more work before I'd call him a good main character.

Click to shrink...

I disagree. I actually like the Main's personality as displayed so far and that he's a bit detached. The fact that the emotional cues are minimal does not mean they're absent, and lends an air of mystique to the character. I'd hate for Warren to become more emotional now that he's set up this way. The contrast between his ability to be nonchalant about things while they're pretty intense can easily be used both for generating interest and for comedic effect. The interest doesn't need to come from characterization, the story being more plot-driven is a viable alternative. And it's an alternative I personally prefer.

Of course, if Sun_tzu feels he can make a better story by incorporating more "personality", I'll trust him to know what he's doing. So far the story really appeals to me, so keep up the good work.

 

[sun tzu]

Yep, this is going to be fun.

My heart warms with the violence and conflict to come.

Click to shrink...

Violence? Conflict?
Coming soon.

Quick note, Earth Bet currency might differ considering how they how one dollar coins and no pennies.

Click to shrink...

Well, it's mostly higher denominations that he's brought over. Might still be odd that it looks similar enough to Earth's Bet to be mistaken for the same, but I figure it's more interesting to jump into the action than spend a page on Warren getting funds. (Hm. He could also have brought diamonds, I guess... Though that can bring its own set of complications.)

I was waiting for him to outsmart Tt, but he kinda just stood there and did nothing.

Click to shrink...

He let her do all the talking, which provided him with extremely important information about her - far less information than his silence gave her. One might make a case he was letting her outsmart herself.
But if you want more overt battles of wits between those two... Warren's got a massive ego and an inclination to display his intellectual supremacy (we admittedly haven't seen much of that yet - he's trying to rein it in). Tattletale is an arrogant manipulator with a compulsive need to show she's the smartest person in the room. These two are likely to get on like oil chlorine trifluoride and water.

I found the progression of events to be interesting though I was going to cry foul when he naturally picked up on Trigger Events when there are so many other false theories floating around. I'd think it'd be much more natural for him to come to that conclusion after speaking to numerous parahumans instead of just concluding that trigger events are the truthful theory right off the bat. Still the fact that he acknowledges that he had to dig for the secret removed most of my concern about him discovering plot relevant secrets too quickly.

Click to shrink...

We know that some people outside of parahumans and the PRT know about trigger events (like the scientist the Pure went to). Parahumans have been around for almost three decades at this point; it's impossible for the knowledge not to accessible (and frankly amazing it's not common knowledge; I'm going with Cauldron deliberately limiting the spread of that factoid).
So, yeah, I figure a supergenius with an Internet connection, a few hours of free time, and none of the ingrained habits of Earth Bet should be able to find that info.
And then be very concerned that it took any effort to research in the first place.

I think that there are some hints of a very disturbed past with Checkmates memories of School, so right now I'm more curious about what he's done over what he's going to do in the future.

Click to shrink...

Warren? A disturbed past? What ever gave you such an idea? *hides old Kill Order on Checkmate Warren*

The method of how the Undersiders would recruit Taylor was explained in a very reasonable way.

Click to shrink...

It's kind of what happened in canon. I mean, Tattletale may have been thinking of it as a way of "helping", but she was absolutely manipulating Taylor into a life of crime. In a very real sense, Taylor became a villain because Lisa decided to turn her into one.

I'm curious to see how Coil's plays will go and if you'll go with the typical no sell to him and his power with the introduction of Checkmate or if they'll have a real duel of wits.

Click to shrink...

Physically speaking, Warren is a bog-standard human. His presence doesn't disrupt Coil's power (or the power of any precogs) any more than that of the Travelers does.
On the other hand, Warren is very, very good at what he does.