Chapter 11: Ripple 2-3
Author's Note: OK, so here we are at Chapter 10. It must be said that I am very happy with how this story is being received.
To bring myself to the main point of this note however. It is Canon according to Wildbow himself, that Lisa is asexual thanks to her power, but she would be straight without it. Please take note that this is a FAN FIC. I rarely understand why people are so fussed about labelling a fic as Alternate Universe (AU) or not, due to the fact that writing a fanfic about something should automatically makes it an AU if you change even the smallest aspect about the story. Whatever.
Just to get to the point, this is a Worm AU story, with one of the minor changes to the world being Lisa's bisexuality. You cannot say that you have not been warned now.
On to more pleasant subjects, if you are interested, this fic has its own TVTropes page. If you see something in this fic that isn't listed there, by all means, put it up.
Now, enjoy the fic!
Beta'd by BigCC.
"Damn you Sophia!" – Speech
'Why Emma?' – Thought
Ripple 2.3
+++Waterworks+++
A Week Later
Riptide's Workshop, SS Evermore, Boat Graveyard
"Get...tightened…there!" I grunted, finally finishing the damned engine that I had been hired to build.
The machine was taking up quite a bit of space in the spare lab I'd built in one of the adjoining holds. While I'd initially been planning on filling in the space or turning into a shield/generator room when I finally got my base mobile, perhaps it would be wise to keep it as a secondary lab. I could focus on my personal hero work in my main lab while using the secondary one for any more work I took from Toybox under my 'Waterworks' persona.
It was something to think about.
Stepping back, I admired the engine that I'd built. It actually resembled a brain with its dome-like shape divided into multiple raised ledges. Each 'ledge' was actually a single piece of the modular system that I had designed to make repairing it easier on a normal human. There was a simple diagnostic slate built into the side and linked to the entire system. If any part was broken, damaged, or had simply been worn down to the point that it was impairing the engine's functionality, it would show up there. Then it was as simple as entering a code to unlock and eject the correct section, removing it, and the slipping in an identical replacement.
Quick, clean and so easy a trained chimp could handle it
"Hmmm…maybe I should use a color code for the sections so that it's easier to differentiate them." I mused aloud before deciding that it was a good idea. The KISS principle (Keep It Simple, Stupid) was a good one to follow in situations like this, and the modular system was only divided into eight robust sections, so it wouldn't take long to colour them. Blue, red, yellow, green, orange, purple, black, and white should do it nicely. Then I'd just reprogram the slate to go by colour rather than a specific code.
That all took me just a bare half an hour. Programming was not one of my Inner-Tinker's favorite areas, but I managed somehow. I'd have to see if Amphitrite could do a bit of programming for me; she was good at troubleshooting my work, so if she could handle one of my powers bigger weak points it would definitely be a plus.
I headed back to the main workshop and glanced over at the two sets of armour that stood there, next to the base I had made for my Poseidon armour. One was the Triton Armour that I had basically rebuilt to include modular technology, so it was the MKII version.
Next to it was a costume that only had a couple of armour portions on it. It was basically a Kevlar jumpsuit with a backpack, enclosed helmet and a single wrist-mounted Aqua Blaster, all done in a completely different design compared to my normal models. The jumpsuit was dyed a very light shade of blue. The backpack was designed to look like a simple equipment pack, the helmet was actually modeled after a hat I'd seen in an old video game with the facial cover being detachable, and the Aqua Blaster was designed to look more like a reinforced work glove.
As I had no illusions about people trying to discover who the members of the mysterious 'Waterworks' group working with the Toybox were, I was making a fake Rogue persona. Actually I was thinking of creating three. Each would have a relatively narrow specialization, all dealing with water naturally. Hopefully it would make it that much harder for the PRT or any 'interested' parties to trace them back to me.
This was the armor and most of the Tinker Tech that I'd wear with the costume for the rogue personality I'd tentatively named 'Plumber.' Not the most impressive or original names, I'll admit, but Plumber and the other members weren't going to be impressive. They were simply a trio of low-level rogue tinkers who'd banded together and started working with Toybox in order to survive and actually make a profit.
The complete opposite of what I was hoping to turn Riptide into.
Still, I doubted that the PRT wouldn't at least be suspicious that Riptide and Waterworks were connected at some level. My hope was that they'd at least not suspect that they were the same person, giving me a bit of elbow-room to work with. At the very least, I was sure they were going to suspect that Riptide was an affiliate, if not a member, of Waterworks. I'd have to do something about having another member at least to reinforce that assumption.
Perceptions had power, if people thought I was part of a group they'd be that must less inclined to target me. Targeting a single independent cape was one thing, especially for large groups like the E88 or Protectorate, but targeting a group of independents, that was another matter entirely.
My eyes fell on Amphitrite's hologram and grinned as an idea popped into my head. "Amphitrite?"
"Yes, Mistress Riptide?" the VA asked.
"How would you feel about remotely controlling a combat robot?"
"I have no combat protocols for such an instance." Amphitrite answered. "I would have to request Networker to write me a combat package if you wish to use me in such a way."
"That'll probably cost a pretty penny." I frowned in thought for a moment, before shrugging in acceptance. "Still it'll be worth the cost in the end and they can take the cost out of what I'm getting paid for the engine."
"I will send a request via my e-mail account immediately mistress." The VA announced. "Approximate time for response is sixteen hours."
"Why so long?" I blinked.
"Networker is an insomniac, however when he does fall asleep he can sleep for anywhere between twelve to sixteen hours." Amphitrite explained, a corner of her mouth twitching as if in amusement. "He created me and many of my other 'sisters' so I know his habits well enough."
Huh…I would hate to have insomnia. I like my sleep; for all that I get less of it these days.
"Well, there's nothing left for me to do here, and Dodge isn't due to stop by for pickup until tomorrow." I said, cracking my back and barely restraining a yawn. "I'll head home and catch up on my own sleep. Amphitrite, I'll have a preliminary design for your robot body by tonight, most likely. Please start examining my weapon designs and see what you think would work best with you combat program once it's downloaded."
"Understood." The hologram nodded. "Have a safe trip home, Mistress."
Collapsing the Triton MKII into its suitcase form, I waved at Amphitrite before heading back home to catch some shuteye.
+++Lisa Wilbourn+++
The Next Day
Bedroom, Lisa's Flat, Brockton Bay
'I really, really wish I'd never come to this shithole of a city.' The blond girl formerly known as Sarah Livsey thought with a scowl on her pretty face as she lay on her rather comfy bed.
Being all but enslaved to a sack of pond scum like Coil was not her idea of a good time. She had also never really considered herself supervillain material; although now that she was getting into the swing of things she could admit to having a liking for the profession. She wasn't a fighter, her entire combat repertories centered around mind games and outthinking people, along with a snub-nosed pistol she carried around religiously.
She'd have much preferred a rear-line position, something involving tactics or, better yet, leadership. Granted, her powers worked best when she could see things with her own eyes rather than through a camera lens, but it wasn't that much of a difference.
But, as she seemed to be having absolutely no luck in either getting away from or killing the slimy bastard, Lisa had decided to adopt a wait and see approach, which was maddening. Her power basically made her Sherlock Holmes on Tinker-tech steroids! All she need was a single glance and she was able to extrapolate more and more information on any target she put her mind to!
Any yet Coil had somehow found a way to slip through her powers. Not only had he managed to gain at least a general understanding on just how her power worked without her ever noticing him, but he'd also figured out a way to keep her from pulling any of the information she needed about him as well as preempting any plans she made using the small crumbs of information she did manage to gather.
'The only type of powerset I could think of that could explain it would be a Thinker one.' She thought, going over all the data for the millionth time in her head. 'And even then, it has to be something that lets him predict my moves before I make them. Some kind of precog is the most likely, but it could easily be something more esoteric that I just haven't thought of.'
Lisa unconsciously tried adjusting herself in bed, before wincing painfully. The last punishment she had received for trying to kill Coil had been being whipped across her bare back, which had hurt like hell. The snake-themed Cape hadn't ordered her to be raped, thankfully. Somehow he recognised that there was a line that he couldn't cross with her; she would kill herself before she let that happen.
Not out of despair or whatever, but because of the disgusting information overload she would get from it. She had tried to date after getting her powers, but she hadn't really needed to know that the boy she was kissing had a foot fetish. If a mere kiss did that, Lisa shuddered to think of what information sex would give her. It was a shame really, because Lisa was bisexual, which meant the forbidden temptation was there no matter where she looked.
If she let herself get a bit too attracted to someone, her power would kick in and she'd be hit face-first with all their fetishes and dirty little secrets and would promptly need to find something to hurl in.
Her phone started droning out the Imperial March, signaling that it was Coil calling. Growling in frustration, Lisa grabbed the phone and answered it.
"Hey boss." She offered in a normal tone, refusing to give the smug bastard the smallest crumb of information she didn't have to. "What's up?"
"Tattletale. There's a new Parahuman in town, as I'm sure you are aware of." Coil's smug voice said. Lisa let her power out to analyze him.
Confident you are aware of new Parahuman, Riptide. Deliberately goading you into showing off, aware of your need to be the smartest person in the room. Her power hummed to life, feeding information directly into the back of her mind. Faintly avaricious note in tone; possibility he wishes for you to break Unwritten Rules and discover Riptide's civilian identity for forced recruitment reasonably high.
This made Lisa frown, even as she replied, "Yeah, who hasn't? The new kid on the block stomping the ABB, Empire and Merchants in penny-packets."
Riptide had only struck three times in the ten days since they had first intervened against the ABB robbery on the Broadwalk. They had been indiscriminate regarding the gangs, which showed a lack of any stupid racism or discrimination on their part. The criminals had been tidily and efficiently captured, with only as much force as was necessary used to capture them, plus Riptide had stuck around after the fact to give statements to the BBPD.
"Yes, well, did you know that they also happen to be a Tinker?" Coil asked silkily. "I think such a power would gel nicely in my employ."
Wants the Tinker to possibly augment the available level of firepower and defenses that his mercenaries have access to. Unsatisfied with the handful of Tinkertech rifles he's managed to acquire. Willing to threaten Riptide to get them into his employ. Willing to threaten Riptide's family to get them into his employ. Willing to use drugs to enslave them to his will. Possibly willing to assassinate Riptide should they prove absolutely intractable.
"I see." Lisa offered calmly as her power fed her information, biting back her disgust at being forced to help Coil get his greasy fingers on someone else. "And I assume that you want me to work my usual magic?"
"Correct." Her captor answered.
"I have to warn you, boss, this isn't going to be quick, particularly if you want me to keep up my work on the Empire." She warned him, doing her best to at least delay having to go along with this.
"I understand that, Tattletale." the bastard replied absently. "If I remember correctly your last report stated that we've managed to acquire roughly 80% of the information required. Push acquiring the remainder down to a secondary objective for now, and focus on this new project."
Lisa bit back a curse. So whatever plans he need the civilian IDs of the entire Empire Eighty-Eight weren't going to start for at least a few months. She'd hoped to use that chaos for another escape attempt, hoping that whatever power he had would be focused on dealing with the E88 and the chaos they'd unleash.
She felt absolutely no guilt about outing a bunch of Neo-Nazis. That was the best part of dealing with Nazis; you could do whatever you wanted to them and still feel little to no guilt.
Instead she merely shrugged and replied. "If you say so boss. Still, like I said, it's going to take some time. Unlike the Empire, Riptide is brand new and hasn't settled into any discernable patterns yet. Plus, most of the Empire capes have been active for at least a couple years, which gave me a lot of information to seethe through to find what I was looking for. With Riptide only being active for a couple weeks, it's going to take a miracle or a shit-ton of luck to find anything real concrete or important on her."
"Just get it done Tattletale." Coil responded flatly. "I'll have all the information my sources have managed to gather on our new friend delivered to your apartment within the hour. I want it done as quickly as possible. Contact me once you have made any significant progress."
With that, he hung up.
Dislikes having an unknown element on the board. Anxious to either control, mitigate or remove Riptide from play. Dislikes the thought of having to wait. Impatient. Likely to send watchers to ensure work being done.
"Lovely." The Thinker muttered as she forcibly suppressed the headache that was the pain-in-the-butt consequence of using her power to a major degree. It took a lot of focus to draw clues from just a voice over the phone, after all. Talking to people in person, seeing pictures and writing…all of those were far less stressful on her power than using it on someone during a phone call, for whatever reason.
Powers were weird.
Less than an hour later, Lisa was examining the paperwork, from the PRT's own servers no less, regarding Riptide's four recorded encounters; as well as any additional notes the PRT could glean from the officers who had interacted with the Tinker, which was surprisingly sparse.
'Evidently the BBPD are helping to protect Riptide's identity as much as they can.' Lisa deduced after less than a minute of reading those interviews. 'The irritatingly vague reports regarding this new Cape's appearance can't be explained with simple incompetence, considering they've all been written by different people.'
She did some research into the officers in question and discovered that they were all consummate professionals who disliked the PRT and Protectorate for various reasons. That made it a bit more understandable.
Onto the incidents themselves, two had been against the ABB, one against the Empire 88 and one against the Merchants. The first, stopping those idiots from robbing an electronics store on the Boardwalk, had been conducted masterfully. Total surprise, excellent execution and not being greedy enough to chase after the small number that had sensibly fled rather than get captured. No camera evidence, only eyewitness reports, of which the ABB grunts were clamming up about aside from the name.
Pausing, Lisa looked out the transcripts for the interviews with the grunts. All of them basically boiled down to 'We were told to tell you their name so the PRT don't mislabel them like Chubster. That's all we're saying.'
Has heard about PRT policy of deliberately giving unknown Parahumans degrading and/or insultingly accurate names and strove to ensure they had no grounds for doing so. Highly likely hiding gender to further obscure possible identity. Evidenced by use of gender neutral armor, voice changer and full-face helmet.
"Well, well, well, aren't we a smart little cookie?" Lisa muttered, a hint of mild admiration in her voice. Not many Parahumans, particularly newly Triggered rookies, knew how to think things through to any major extent, instead relying solely on using their powers to solve problems as they came.
A lone Tinker, however, would have to be at least smart enough to plan that far ahead, especially if they managed to break away from their tinkering for long enough.
The next incident had been two days later against a group of seven Empire 88 thugs attempting to break into the home of a black family. Again, it had been a perfectly performed ambush, with surprise being total. One of the members had managed to get off a burst with an Uzi machine-pistol while Riptide was wrapping up the others. Of course, it been a worthless endeavor, Riptide had apparently managed to avoid the most of the bullets and the few that had managed to hit had bounced off their armor like B.B.s. before Riptide had cocooned them as well.
Also to note, most of the information on the incident had come from the victims; just like before the thugs had not said anything apart from Riptide's name. Whoever Riptide was, they were certainly good at threatening people.
The third incident was with the ABB again three days after that. There had been fifteen of them and they had split into two smaller groups to try and grab some girls who had rather foolishly been out late at night in Brockton Bay. Stupid idiots. The girls, that is.
Riptide had waited until the girls were in clear and present danger before acting, and it was here that the first witness reports of exactly what Riptide was capable of had surfaced; technological hydrokinetic emulation. In other words, technology that could mimic the abilities of someone with hydrokinesis. Riptide had, while floating up in the air, hit both groups with a very small grenade apiece that exploded to release a thick, highly sticky and very low viscosity liquid that had seemingly acted with a mind of its own to ensnare every gangbanger within reach before retracting bunching them all together. One of the gauntlets had a hydrokinetic emulator in it as well, apparently, as Riptide had casually moved the ABB grunts around so they weren't suffocating, before using the other gauntlet to turn the liquid prison that they were bound by into something as hard and solid as steel.
"Christ! This is one scary Tinker!" Lisa muttered in disbelief. "They make Squealer and L33t look more incompetent than usual, which takes some doing!"
The broader a Tinker's specialty, the more powerful they were. Armsmaster, for example, had a way to build things rather than a specific technology that he specialised in, letting him go across the whole technological smorgasbord, with the exception of chemicals. Even then, he was rumoured to collaborate heavily with Dragon, the world's preeminent Tinker, who was also rumoured to have invented Containment Foam, so that obstacle wasn't a big one.
Exactly how broad a specialty Riptide had was up for debate, but making flying, unpowered armour with built-in weapons systems consisting of at least a pair of miniaturized, mounted grenade launchers indicated that, at the very least, Riptide was not someone to take lightly.
'Still, there's absolutely nothing here to clue me into the identity of Riptide.' The blond girl thought with a frown. She decided to move onto the last report.
The last recorded incident involving Riptide was the day before yesterday, when she had beaten up three Merchants who had grabbed a girl to inject her with whatever venomous cocktail of drugs they were peddling. Disgusting filth.
Lisa shuddered. If she was forcibly addicted to drugs, she'd rather die. That was a fate worse than death in her books.
The fight had been simple, but the girl had reported that the suit Riptide wore was also full of water, as Riptide had used it to blast the three druggies like a high-pressure water cannon located in one of her gauntlets. The force of the spray had knocked the three morons out after they fell over…somehow. It was suspected that they had already been high on something and the shock of been sent flying three meters had rendered them unconscious.
The blond Thinker frowned. That was quite a lot of force for three drug-addled morons. A possible bad experience with the Merchants almost doing the same thing to someone close to Riptide? Or even Riptide…herself?
Riptide. Concealed gender to increase difficulty for people attempting to discover identity. Height, taking into account apparent thickness of armour and other possible Tinkertech systems, is consistent with men aged 25+ and women aged 15-25, taking into account wide varieties in differing growth spurts. Her power noted as she scanned a rough sketch of Riptide. Bulk of armour prevents assessing chest and hip area for comparison. Non-armored areas indicate body type is thin and somewhat muscled, more consistent with females in mid-to-late teen years. Possibility of Riptide being male lowering to unlikely.
So, probably a girl in her teens. Probably anywhere between 15 (if she were a beanpole) to 19. 20 at the oldest.
"That has to be the weakest analysis that I've ever done." Lisa exclaimed in mild frustration, massaging her temples. While not as hard as Coil, Riptide had made getting basic facts about her (?) incredibly difficult. The written reports and interviews were no good either.
"Urgh...I'm going to need to see her in action if I want to find anything concrete." The Thinker slapped a hand to her face in mild frustration. She was going to miss a lot of sleep over this, she could tell.
Before packing away the notes, she looked at the sketch again, and then moved to the other one, which was solely of Riptide's mask. It certainly looked intimidating enough.
Mask intended to intimidate foes. Her power chimed in. Mask physical part of helmet, likely has internal air system. Link to weapons to supervise ammunition and status? Likely. Able to measure amount of water left in suit? Likely.
Feeling the ache of a Thinker Headache coming on, Lisa looked away and pinched the bridge of her nose. She had overused her power, again.
'My stupid power would be so much more useful if I didn't get headaches from using it too much!' she thought bitterly. Her limit seemed to be about fifteen minutes of consecutive use, or else almost indefinitely when used in short bursts. Unfortunately, all the work Coil wanted her to do involved the constant use of her power, which resulted in her wishing dearly for a medicine that numbed the pain from Thinker Headaches.
Thankfully, the headaches rarely lasted long, less than half an hour, after which her 'time limit' seemed to reset itself. As she had pushed herself too hard, it was time to stretch her legs and get some fresh air. Maybe she'd find a good place to observe from when she eventually decided to go Riptide-watching.
As she pulled her shoes on and headed out, Lisa's mind drifted to her teammates in the Undersiders. Grue, Bitch and Regent, otherwise known as Brian LaBorne, Rachel Lindt and Alex Mercerau/Jean-Paul Vasil, had been brought together by Coil for various reasons.
Brian needed the façade of legitimate work that Coil provided him in order to get his younger sister away from their drug-addict of a mother. Aisha LaBorne was a cocky, arrogant, but secretly very unsure, teenage girl who unfortunately had the habit of dressing in ghetto trash clothing that left very little to the imagination regarding her developing body. She also had the habit of bucking any and all sorts of authority, simply because she could.
Rachel Lindt had a very traumatic childhood, culminating in a very traumatic Trigger Event that ended with an arrest warrant being posted on her for murder with almost no investigation on the part of the local PRT (Lisa had checked). Now her mind was wired to better understand canines than humans and she was in no mental state to explain what happened. She was also driving off anyone who might want to join the Undersiders.
As for Alec…yeah, he was a fucked-up case. Tortured into Triggering by his father Nico Vasil, otherwise known as Heartbreaker, Alec had operated under the name Hijack until he ran from his father. Now, with emotions so badly damaged that he literally couldn't feel empathy for others, he worked as a member of the Undersiders for money and protection from his dad finding him.
It was because of their reasons for joining, rather than being forced, that Lisa hadn't tried to get them on-side. Because he had recruited them, Coil knew all of their buttons. Brian needed Coil more than Coil needed Brian, Rachel needed him to help run her dog shelters and Alec needed a place to lie low and avoid his father's attention while keeping himself comfortable. At any sign of rebellion, Coil wouldn't hesitate to use Aisha against Brian, wouldn't hesitate to inform Hookwolf where a lot of his missing fighting dogs were being hidden, wouldn't hesitate to expose Alec to the PRT.
"What a fucked up situation." Lisa muttered as she left her building.
+++Taylor Hebert+++
Streets of Brockton Bay
More shopping; how positively lovely. I swore that if Dad was sneaking food somehow, I would be very upset with him.
I shook my head at that. Dad was very good about not eating too much, even if he was a bit too fond of meat for my liking.
Rather than the shops nearby my home, I had ranged a bit further afield today, as I wanted to experiment a bit more with my cooking. The money being invested into the Dockworker's Association by the Mayor was paying off, with the formerly jobless workers throwing themselves into the work with gusto and providing excellent results. This meant that the Mayor was Very Happy and gave them a bonus when the first job was completed and the promise of more work to come. Dad had gotten a bonus from the Association as well, as it had been his tireless efforts to promote them to the Mayor.
Hmm…maybe a different type of meat, perhaps? Or maybe some new herbs?
While I was thinking on what to experiment with, I turned the corner and ran into someone. We both landed on our butts, which was jarring on the tailbone.
"Ow!"
"Yikes!"
Rubbing my abused posterior, I stood up and saw the person I had collided with. She was a girl with dark blond hair tied back into a ponytail and bottle-green eyes. There was a dash for freckles across her nose and her clothes were subdued without being either too conservative or too drab.
"You OK? Sorry about that, I wasn't looking where I was going." I said, extending my hand to help her up.
"I'm fine. It was my fault as well for being lost in thought." The girl replied, accepting my hand up. "Wow, that's some arm strength you've got for such a thin frame."
"I work out a bit." I admitted. Jogging was good, but I had also added push-ups and sit-ups to my regime to help match my upper body strength with my lower body strength. I also made it a point to swim to the Evermore every other night without the aid of my powers to do more than breathe and see.
Apparently swimming was both and excellent cardio exercise as well as a good strength-building exercise. Who knew?
"So I see." The girl pinched one of the muscles on my arm, making me squeak in surprise. "Not exactly musclebound, but you're a lot stronger than people think you are, right?"
"Thank…you?" I said, unsure whether that was a compliment or an observation.
"My name's Lisa. Lisa Wilbourn." The girl introduced herself.
"Taylor Hebert." I nodded back.
"Do you know any good cafés or small eateries around here?" Lisa asked. "I've only been in the area for less than a year, and I've been too busy with work and settling in to look around for anywhere like that."
I blinked. "Um, wow. You don't look more than a couple of years older than me and you're already living on your own?"
A dusting of pink appeared on the blonde's cheeks. "Emancipated minor. My parents and I…yeah, we don't get along."
OK, awkward topic, redirect, redirect…! "There's a nice place just over this way, let me show you…"
The café known as Ahnenerbe was not, despite the fact that the normal use of its name was in reference to a Nazi think-tank, related in any way, shape or form to the Empire 88 aside from the fact that its name was in German. It was run by an Italian chef named George and there were a half-dozen other employees of various heritages that the Empire would disagree with. Mom had liked coming here and had brought me a couple of times.
"I like it!" Lisa enthused. "The atmosphere's dark, but without being morbid! And all the wood paneling…"
Yes, the place had an abundance of wood inside. All of it was high-quality stuff, cut from hardwood trees, sanded down and treated to be smooth to the touch. It was all designed to be like something out of the Victorian period or something. Very cozy.
"Just don't order the mapo tofu." I said, flinching at the memory of the one time I had tried a small amount of the stuff. "It's hot in both senses of the word."
The blond girl flinched as well when she saw me. "Yeesh. That bad?"
I pulled a face. "It was like someone detonated a military grade spice bomb in my mouth."
"Snrk."
I gave Lisa the evil eye as she tried and failed to contain her amusement at my turn of phrase.
"I'm…I'm sorry, but…a spice bomb? Really?" the blond girl chortled.
"I'm so glad that I afford you amusement." I answered dryly. "Now do you want my recommendation on what to order or not?"
"By all means." Lisa said with a calming gesture.
Picking up the menu, I scanned it for a moment. "Huh…it hasn't changed since I was last in. that was just under two years ago."
"Why haven't you come for so long?" Lisa asked in surprise.
"It's…" I hesitated. "My…mom…used to bring me here…and I was hurting too much to be in a place where she enjoyed herself so much."
"I'm sorry." The other girl said sympathetically. "I can tell you loved her a lot."
"Yeah…it was…hard…but I'm better now." I blinked the start of tears away. "It still hurts, but, not as badly as it used to. Mom would give me a talking to if I kept letting it get to me."
Giving myself a shake, I smiled at Lisa, feeling lighter than I had in years. "Well, moving away from me blabbing at you, Mom always liked the Raspberry Torte…"
Later
With Lisa
Parting from Taylor after giving her number to the quiet but friendly girl, Lisa headed back to her apartment to plan her move against Riptide, but the blond girl's mind kept getting drawn back to the tall girl with long and frankly gorgeous brunette locks, as well as the observations her power made about her.
Was bullied for an extensive period of time. Over a year…fifteen months. Endured attacks physical, mental, emotional and psychological. Was betrayed by person who was once best friend. Betrayal sudden, unknown why it occurred.
That information was bad enough, but what Lisa had seen when Taylor's mother and father were brought up was almost worse.
Was on phone to mother when she died. Mother was not supposed to be on the phone. At work? No, driving. Died in Road Traffic Accident. Taylor blames herself for mother's death, wishes she could have died instead. Avid dislike of mobile phones since, but is more open to using them since she started to recover.
Father collapsed into a fit of near-catatonic depression after wife's death. Taylor propped him up even as she felt the same depression. Propped him up even as she was getting badly bullied. Father ignorant of daughter's bullying prior to incident at school resulting in hospitalization of Taylor. Apoplectic when he discovered bullying. Withdrew Taylor from school. Now working toward recovery from depression by focusing on seeing to his daughter's wellbeing and a recent upswing at his work.
'Just who the hell bullies someone for so long for no apparent reason?!' Lisa thought grimly. Taylor had stayed away from mentioning which school she had gone to, but had mentioned she was homeschooling herself now. What little the Thinker could gather about her new friend's former bullies was that they had just started on her about two months after the start of her first year in high school and hadn't stopped. Taylor had no idea why they had done it.
She made a note to investigate the three bitches that seemed to be auditioning for parts in 'Slaughterhouse Nine: The Junior Edition' and do what she could to make their lives miserable in turn. Lisa might not have considered herself a 'good' person, but she was always protectively vindictive about those she cared for and Taylor had reminded her far too much of Reggie for her not to want to intercede on her behalf.
As she approached her complex, Lisa absently spotted the watchers that her power had predicted Coil would send, each parked around her building attempting to look inconspicuous. Tch. As if Lisa wouldn't notice them. Coil knew that, which meant that this was certainly a message for her: I am watching you, so get to it, Tattletale.
Dickhead.
After getting into her apartment, she started thinking about where Riptide had been spotted. Aside from the electronics store on the Broadwalk, all of the other instances had been in the Docks, Downtown and other poorer areas of the city. It seemed as if the Water Tinker was deliberately hunting for prey, as opposed to being purely reactive. An unlicensed Parahuman, commonly referred to as an Independent (if a PRT Associate) or a Rogue (if not), generally had a great deal less leeway on what they could do without the PRT bringing The Hammer down on them.
A good example would be New Wave's Glory Girl or, as Lisa referred to her, Glory Hole. She regularly caused an incredible amount of collateral damage in a fight due to how reckless she was. She rarely got more than a scolding from her mother. By contrast, a Rogue from a few years back in Boston, Marlfox, had been arrested by the PRT after a fight with The Teeth had gotten slightly out of hand and torn up a street. Other occasions included when there was no justification for a Rogue to act.
In Riptide's case, she was actively hunting the big three gangs, but she was also waiting for her targets to act in a clearly criminal manner before jumping them. She was clearly smarter than a lot of new Capes were, as well as a lot of veteran Capes, to boot. On top of it, she had clearly designed her weapons to limit collateral damage as much as possible. With the combination of water-based weaponry and the water manipulation gauntlet she seemed to have, it made for a very broad and effective loadout. Ditto for those taffy-water grenades, whatever the hell they were.
Drumming her fingers on the counter of her kitchen as she waited for water to boil, Lisa concluded that her usual plan of getting Coil's mercs to scope out Riptide's haunts was unlikely to work, ditto for the 'damsel in distress' idea she had played with when she had first heard that Riptide was a hero. The area that the Tinker covered was every poor district in Brockton Bay, which was about sixty-percent of the city!
Coil had about eighty to a hundred mercs, of which about half of that were tasked with a mix of guarding and maintaining the underground base that he had. Yes, an actual underground lair. Very Bond Villainesque. Why he thought that was a good idea in a city with a large aquifer beneath it was beyond Lisa. Anyway, the other forty to fifty mercs were usually out on missions, usually outside of Brockton Bay to limit them being linked back to him, with a handful that acted as mobile enforcers for what little territory that Coil actually laid claim to, which was well away from where his base was located.
No, she'd have to do it herself and hope to get lucky. Fortunately, Coil had provided her with two costumes for her Tattletale persona. One was her nice purple skintight bodysuit with black trimmings and an Eye of Ra on the chest, while the other was the same with inverted colours, which was far more suitable for nighttime surveillance. She'd also have to get a helmet or something to hide her appearance better. The last thing she needed was for Riptide to put Tattletale and the Mysterious Stalker Girl together.
…ew. That was almost comparing herself to Psycho Stalker. Gross.
Reaching for her phone, she started to dial Coil's number.
+++Riptide/Plumber+++
That Night
Secondary Workshop, SS Evermore
"This is incredible. You actually managed to dumb it down enough that a non-Tinker can perform basic maintenance." Dodge shook his head in disbelief. He was examining the engine with a close eye. "The modular parts are a genius idea too; color-coded so that, unless you're colorblind, you can't eject or replace the wrong piece."
OK, now I was blushing. "It's just the idea you gave me."
"I was expecting you to have a couple of removable parts that they'd have to get to the old fashioned way, not this." The Toybox Cape said dryly. "You've somehow managed to create a self-sustaining dimensional pocket inside this thing that naturally processes the fuel and water put into it and converting it into raw electrical power, which is then fed back into the ship's power system, limited by the various modular filtration plates that you have installed into it. That is quite the damn achievement. I can tell you, if Toybox ever moves from a dimensional pocket to a ship, we'll so be hiring you to build the ship."
I was very glad that my Plumber outfit hid my face. My blush made a ripe tomato look pale by comparison.
"So what's with the new costume?" Dodge asked as he turned back to gesture at me. "The mask looks like a diver's snorkeling mask and the hat and overalls make you look like a blue Mario.
I smirked. Over the pale blue Kevlar body suit I was currently wearing a pair of dark blue overall, along with a loose pale blue shirt that was almost white. A pair of dark blue work gloves covered my hands, with the left one being my Aqua Blaster and right a much simpler creation I'd put together in an hour of work that had a host of modular tools that would help with the final installation process for my engine. The helmet was indeed a blatant rip-off of the classic video game plumber's signature chapeau; save for a 'P' replacing the signature 'M.' The attached mask did indeed look like a snorkeler's mask, albeit one that wasn't transparent. It was smooth, blank and plain on the outside, but I could see out of it perfectly well from the inside. The lower part of my face and back of my head were both covered with a baklava-like mesh, with only a narrow hole allowing my plaited hair to come out. I wanted people to know Plumber was a woman.
"That's the idea; I'm calling this guise 'Plumber,' one of the three Tinkers who form Waterworks, an independent Tinker group working with Toybox." I answered smugly as I ticked off my fingers. "The group includes: Plumber, who specializes in plumbing, pipework, and liquid-based machinery; Sailor, who specializes in aquatic vehicles and transportation; and Hydroponics, who specializes in irrigation, filtration and water management systems." I shot Dodge a smug grin. "If any 'prospective clients' start looking into Waterworks that's the information I want to be what you guys have available."
"You're really into this whole 'deceive the world' thing, aren't you?" the red-clad Parahuman asked, sounding a little shocked and impressed. "That's quite a setup, and I'm betting each of those purviews fall into your own as well, I think I may have undersold your Tinker rating earlier." My fellow tinker took a moment to get his game face back on, "I'll have Cranial and Networker have our databases updated to reflect that information in case anyone tries looking into it. Oh, Networker gave me this to give to you while I was here. It's those combat protocols you asked for, as well as a little something extra."
He pulled a flash drive from his pocket and gave it to me.
"What little something extra?" I asked curiously.
"A one-off cloning program." Dodge said with a grin. "Networker knows better than to allow any kind of semi-sentient computer program to clone itself endlessly -just look at Agent Smith from the Aleph movie The Matrix Reloaded for why- but there's nothing wrong with creating a program that will only copy and duplicate the program a single time before self-erasing itself. Once you've built the body, you can hook it up to Amphitrite, clone her and bang, two VI for the price of one."
"Wow…wait, does Amphitrite have the Three Laws of Robotics in her?" I asked suspiciously. Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics. 1. A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. 2. A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. 3. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Laws. Those three were the fictional 'shackles' that a lot of sci-fi robots had programmed into them.
"Eh, shades of them." Dodge answered while wiggling his hand back and forth. "She can't attack non-gang unpowered humans unless it is proven that they are either willingly committing criminal acts or being coerced into acting on a gang or villain's behalf, and even then, she can only disarm, disable and capture. She is only allowed to kill people on the S-Rank Kill List or if life would be lost if she did not. She is required to safeguard herself unless doing so would result in your death. In addition, she cannot reveal the location of the entrance to Toybox's pocket dimension, even if doing so would cost large human life losses or your death."
I wasn't sure what to make of the last one. Yes, it was a suitably paranoiac addition that safeguarded Toybox and their people, but the fact it meant I would likely die if someone tried and failed to get that information from her. Then again, I would likely already be either dead or dying if someone made it that far into my base.
"OK. I'll take that into account." I said as I resolved to think about it later. "So, how am I gonna install this beast of an engine onto the ship, and when?"
"Tonight, if that's alright with you." Dodge said as he pressed a button on his belt, making a mug-sized device appear with a pop of displaced air. "I've been working on my little teleporter problem. It's beyond ridiculous that only I can use the damn things without projectile vomiting left and right. The others have been pitching in, and I think I've found the reason…bioelectric field dissonance."
I blinked. "You mean…all of the teleporters are automatically attuned to the frequency of your natural bioelectric field and if someone without a matching field tries to use them, they suffer a backlash of severe vomit-inducing nausea due to the dissonance interfering with the body's natural equilibrium? Huh…that actually makes sense, or as close to sense as Tinkering gets."
"I know, right?" Dodge nodded eagerly as he secured the device to the engine. "So, I've had Cranial, she specializes in neurology, and a couple of others collaborating on building something to sort it out."
A moment later, with another pop of displaced air, a bracelet appeared in his hand. "This is called…well, it's basically a bioelectric field emulation unit, but Cranial calls it a Spoofing Band, which sounds like something they had back in the seventies if you ask me, but anyway. This emits a fake bioelectric field that covers yours and allows you to use my teleportation units without practicing long-distance vomiting afterwards. Slip it on."
Taking the device, I placed it securely on my left wrist. It feels…odd.
"Yeah, that'll happen." Dodge said with a rueful laugh. "Better a bit of discomfort that throwing up though."
I snorted at that. That was true enough.
With another displacement of air, two apple-sized devices appeared. Dodge caught them both and handed me one. "The location of the ship is preset. Press the red button to teleport to it. Press the blue button to return here. If someone tries to capture you, press the green button. It'll teleport you straight to a safe house that Toybox operates."
"Is that a likely scenario?" I asked in concern. Maybe I should have invested in more than one blaster…
"The likelihood is less than a percent, but it's always best to have a backup plan for when things go south." The more experienced Parahuman said seriously. "Especially for us Tinkers. One plan fails, fall back to another. Unlike other Parahumans, we have little in the way of offence or defense without our tech, so we must use it as best we can. You, with your water powers, are the exception, a very rare exception. Only about five living Tinker Hybrids have been discovered in the world. That is, a Tinker with powers outside of simply being a Tinker. Two are minor, having weak a Blaster and Breaker powers that work with their Tinkering specialty. The other three have moderately strong powers ranging across the entire Power Classification spectrum. You blow them all out of the water, if you'll pardon the pun, due to the strength of your Hydrokinetic Blaster/Shaker powers."
I nodded slowly at that. "Yeah…point taken."
"With that said, this is very much a milk run." Dodge assured me. "We have vetted the client extensively and he knows that we will not do business with him or his associates ever again if he pulls anything with us. But, as I say, preparedness and paranoia are an Independent Tinker's closest and most trusted friend. Let's be off, shall we? We don't have all night."
"OK." I nodded. "And the money?"
"Will be transferred as soon as the installation is complete." Dodge stated factually. "And I'll be handing over your new account number, bank card and other miscellaneous details then as well."
"OK then. Let's go." I nod and hovered my thumb above the red button. "On three?"
"Trite, but passable. One, two and three!"
In a blast of displaced air, we were gone.
Several Hours Later
Engine Room, Yacht, Undisclosed Location
"That Parahuman can't be any older than my daughter." A man wearing a very sharp, very expensive suit remarked.
He and his companion were looking down from the catwalk at the blue costumed figure going through the final series of checks before she declared it ready for a test run.
"Parahumans don't have the luxury of the country forbidding enlistment until eighteen or twenty-one, sir." Dodge pointed out evenly. "All of us, from Tinkers to Strangers to Blasters, are survivors. We went through terrible things and got powers in return. Whether we chose them, or they chose us, is irrelevant; we got them and we have to make the best of it."
"Quite." The man nodded seriously. "Still, I dislike the fact that someone put a girl through something of that magnitude, Continental US or not."
"Plumber's…to say she's 'fine' about it would be a lie, but she's managing." Dodge said carefully. "Her organization, Waterworks, is currently on good terms with Toybox, so we've exchanged tech here and there, and information comes along with it. All of them have Trigger Trauma, all Parahumans do, but it's mitigated by their Tinkering and the fact that they honestly seem to trust one another."
The other man nodded as Plumber (odd name) stepped back and entered a sequence on the palmtop she had in her hand. An almost silent purr came from the engine as lights danced over it before starting to pulse in a regular pattern from stem to stern.
"It's A-OK!" Plumber declared. "Can the Chief Engineer get over here? I need to go over standard maintenance and operating procedures with them!"
As a woman walked over and started writing things down on a notepad, Dodge turned to his companion.
"There you have it. One environmentally-friendly engine, up and running." He said.
"Very good." The man nodded and pulled out a pad. After typing for a couple of moments, he nodded again. "There. All funds have been transferred to the usual account. Payment in full."
"Thank you very much for your patronage, Mr. Vice-President." The Tinker nodded. "Now, let me go over some details for you, price wise, for your new fuel…"
+++Waterworks+++
Two Days Later
Above the Streets of Brockton Bay
I smiled as the Triton MKII flew silently across Brockton Bay's skyline. The money from the engine job, minus Toybox's cut and the cost of Amphitrite's new combat protocols, had gone into an account they had set up thanks to someone called the 'Number Man', who was apparently a Thinker with supernatural skills in all things mathematical. Super math, who knew?
All I had to do was access a bank account for someone called 'Amanda Trench' and I could use it. Thank you, online banking. The first thing I had done was to purchase more materials from Toybox, as I was completely tapped out for most things needed to build anything larger than a smartphone.
The design for Amphitrite's robot chassis was coming along well; it would be very similar to my armour, except it would be supernaturally strong, as it would have mechanical muscles backing it up. As I had no intentions of letting people know that I was using a robot, as it would defeat the purpose of building it in the first place, I would also be building armor around it, which would explain all of her 'powers'.
As for the name of my VI's soon-to-be sister…I would lack originality, yet again, and just call her Salacia, Amphitrite's Roman equivalent. For a Cape name…Trident, perhaps.
I had taken the day off entirely yesterday and the following night, aside from designing the Salacia MK1, Mod 0 on my sketchpad. I had been working every night for over a week, broken only by a couple of quick patrols in which I beat up more members of the ABB, followed by the Empire, and even the Merchants, so I think I'd earned a quick break.
With a day of rest and, far more importantly, a night of uninterrupted sleep, under my belt, I had been ready to start patrolling again, so here I was. And, just like my first attempt at patrolling, the entire town was dead as a doornail. No muggings, no break-ins, nothing.
Making a note to set up a police scanner of some kind, I banked around and did another sweep of the lower Docks area. It was the part of the Docks that was furthest away from the PRT building, at the very edge of the Ward and Protectorate patrol areas. It had the Broadwalk to the west, the Bay to the east, with the joined borders of the major ABB and Empire territories to the south. This was an area of high contention for both of the two largest gangs, and was normally very busy, even at night.
So why was it completely dead?!
After my pass of the areas was over, I shook my head. I'd give it one more go, and then head back to the Evermore. At least then I could start doing something constructive, like start ripping out the old engine of the ship and use the materials to start building an improved version of the one I had built before.
Don't get me wrong, the one I had built last week was exactly what the customer had asked for; an engine designed to be used by a civilian vessel that was on the right side of the law. What I would need, on the other hand, was a military-grade engine, able to power not only the various propulsion methods that I was planning on adding to the Evermore, but most of the ship's systems and a host of defensive and offensive weaponry as well.
As I ruminated about the new engine, a shriek and a roar pierced the nigh, making me halt in midair. Looking around, I spotted clouds of dust and trash coming from an alley on the Empire side of the border.
Speeding over, I gaped as I beheld a very, very unexpected sight: stumbling back out of an alley was a girl, no older than twelve or thirteen, dressed in a green dress-like costume, with every part of her body hidden except for her lower face. Everyone in the Bay would recognise who this was; Vista, a member of the Protectorate Wards.
As I numbly wondered why a Ward, who was usually only on duty during the day and always in a pair at least, was here, another figure charged out of the alley, straight at Vista. It was a mass of metal, shaped vaguely like a wolf, and covered in metal blades, hooks and other close-quarters weapons. The world seemed to slow down for me.
Hookwolf. Fucking Hookwolf. The number one Nazi Cape enforcer, second in command to Kaiser himself in the Empire 88. He was a murdering bastard who had no compunctions about killing, maiming or torturing anyone who got in his way. Rumor had it that he had been sentenced to the Birdcage, the international inescapable prison, twice and had escaped from the prison convoy twice. And now he was charging at Vista, clearly aiming to gut her or something!
I blinked as the space between Vista and the Nazi stretched out, three meters becoming four times that in a flash. Even with that, Vista kept retreating, not letting Hookwolf out of her sight. Still, it was evident that this was not going to end in the girl's favour…not unless someone helped her.
Enough, I decided, was enough.
Shaking my head at what I was about to do, I whispered commands to my gauntlets that shifted the aperture and pressure to as wide and as powerful as it could go; then I took careful aim and fired both straight at Hookwolf from just above Vista. The powerful jets, controlled by my power once they left the nozzles, flew at the metallic wolf as fast as an arrow. I also way upped their density and made them as solid as steel.
Hookwolf had a second or so to take in the water flying at him before he was slammed back, flying several feet back into the alley before crashing through several dumpsters and trashcans and coming to a halt.
"Who the-?!" Vista exclaimed, her voice making her sound just as young as she looked.
Deactivating my camouflage system, I must have appeared to shimmer out of nowhere to Vista and Hookwolf.
"Hookwolf, why don't you try picking a fight someone a bit closer to your own size?" I asked mildly.