Wingblade stops and just stares at Alexis for a moment. She then shakes her head slowly. "Mercy, we just found out he was violating his parole. Those were outfits for criminals. I feel bad that he was hurt too, but that doesn't give him a pass to just break the rules. Hell, he might have gotten attacked because of that business downstairs!"
If they let her, Wingblade puts her hand on Mercy's shoulder. "I can't delete the message, even if I wanted to. And I... don't really have the choice to leave that out of the investigation. You understand? It's great that you're thinking about the consequences of your actions. But Mr. Finch is going to have to face the consequences of his."
She takes a step back and rubs her face. "God, I sounded just like Whippoorwill."
Warrior... Soldier she says, in a thick accent she normally lacks. So you do not fight for the local lord then? Mayor Clarke? she asks I fight for Tanaquil, when she calls. there is no shame in recognising obligation. she offers
She turns to the server, eyes almost glowing as she smiles love, Gold spends anywhere. the proprietor will not turn these down. she says in an almost singsong-y voice, letting fey charms slide over her better judgement.
A girl of no parentage and no lord. what draws you to the Iberian and Lugh?
"I am not a girl," Alexis states plainly to the fey. They note how the waitress appears to suddenly relax and take the gold pieces from her without complaint. It makes them frown slightly.
"I don't know what an Iberian and Lugh are, but I guess that is the team. I want to protect people. They help me learn how to do that without hurting others," They claim to Eabha. "And I want to learn in school. And be in a play. And I want to be able to be me to others even if I've changed again," They point out.
"...What do you want?" They ask, looking carefully at Eabha.
"...If he deserves to go back to prison, then I deserve worse. I..." Alexis frets and bounces on their heels for a moment. "...Just let me know when you get the information on the other victims. The slasher still needs to be caught. I will see you at the penthouse," they promise Shayera. At least there they could be in more constant contact. And the extra heavy weights sounded really nice.
She raises an eyebrow quizzically. A boy then? is that why you so loathe this form? or are you like unto An Dagda or Gwydian and Gilfaethwy? she asks, stopping the server before she leaves. This one has not yet ordered. she says
Shayera ad Bronwyn, I believe you call them. she says looking uncomfortable using their names. A warrior who is not a soldier, A guardian who does not hurt people. You are curious and fascinating. she drowns some of the deep amber liquid they had brought, and found it sweet and rich. Education, a noble goal, particularly if you can join the wise. And the plays are very fun. I am trying out for Lydia tomorrow she says cheerfully.
Two drops of blood. One I shall need for the charm. the other, I wonder how it will compare to The Ib- To Shayera's she says eyes glowing bright as she says it. My aunt was mother of the Baobhan. she says
Kaoru sat perched on the edge of a building, enjoying the cool night breeze that ruffled his hair. On the street below there was a burst of noise as the door to a bar opened to allow a man to stagger unsteadily out. Doug Jacobs seemed to be in high spirits after his late night bender. And why wouldn't he be? He had just gotten off on a technicality from his DUI conviction. And apparently he had learned nothing from the experience as he shuffled towards his beat-up old truck while riffling through his pockets.
Where *was* she?
His eyes flicked around. He had chosen his building because it was the tallest around -- which since he was hardly in the skyscraper district wasn't actually all that tall. Short enough for a fire escape to provide easy access. But that should have meant he'd be the first to see her. So where was she? Unless he had predicted wrong and this wasn't her next target. But he couldn't be wrong, could he? He grimaced as he saw Doug manage to find his keys and get into his truck and picked up his crossbow.
Normally he didn't do this kind of thing. After all, he was out of the heroing business, so what did he care about drunk driving? Sure, he had run a couple of errands for Pinky. Gotten some sweet-ass magical metal automatons for him (and a few for himself). But that was more a favor to a friend. Besides, it's not like he was even here for Doug. Doug was just bait.
He swore softly as he heard the engine start, glancing around to once more confirm no sign of his target before moving the crossbow into a shooting position. Sure, he wasn't here to be a hero. But that didn't mean he was going to sit around and just let the drunken idiot get into another accident, one that possibly hurt someone just because he had been wrong about him being the next target. He had been taking shooting lessons with Xan. More because weapons were kind of cool then because he actually meant to use them. Plus he had to admit, he liked pretending to be hopeless so that she'd exasperatedly fix his stance. Even though he was absolutely sure she knew he was faking.
With those lessons, at this height and distance, the chances of him missing the wheels of a moving vehicle were....still pretty good. But then, that had been why he had a back up plan including of strip of spikes that would deploy across the road at the push of a button. Though even at night with very little traffic, that stood a chance of catching some rando's car as well, which he'd rather avoid. Even though he had been sure she'd stop him, he had made sure to have contingencies in place.
As the truck started to pull away he took in a deep breath, held it, aimed, and pulled the trigger. As the bolt clattered harmlessly off the vehicle, he cursed, quickly moving to try to take a second shot even as the truck screeched, the driver clearly spooked by the noise. As he reloaded and missed again, he was just about to deploy the spike strip when the truck came to an abrupt halt accompanied by Doug getting thrown from the vehicle and the screaming of metal as the front of the vehicle crumped inwards under the force of a collision with a giant leg....
"So umm... I noticed Gabby and Tom's invitation's on the table."
What Bronwyn was wearing couldn't honestly be called her Sunday best. It was a long, simple maxi dress in charcoal. It wasn't a bad dress, but she had a lot more success buying off the rack when it was something that didn't have to keep her shoulders and arms in check.
"Yes?" her mother replied without stopping, "Don't worry. It's the week before State so you should be relaxing that weekend anyways."
State. Right.
"Bronwyn?" "Mm?" "If you're worried about your hurdles, don't be. They'd let you in for your shotput, let a lone your javelin. They'll put out their decision soon."
"Yeah. Yeah good point. But umm..." She nearly let it drop. Sunday morning's pre-church flurry was probably the wrong time to work through something like this, but "You RSVP'd that I wasn't going to bring a plus-one. By then Shayera and I will have been together for a while and... I want to bring her to stuff like this. Family stuff."
"I suppose if you wanted her to come over for dinner once we're back in the house that would be fine, but I'm not sure about bringing your friend to Gabriela's wedding, Bronwyn. It is awfully soon." "It's not that soon. We'll have been together almost a year by then!" "Is that counting when she, well, left?" "Wow Mom." "When she left you Bronwyn. When you two broke up?"
"That- That wasn't even- Look can she come to Gabby's wedding or not?"
"Well, it's her wedding, not mine thank God, but, well, Bronwyn this wedding isn't about you and your friend. And I know you care about her, but she does seem to bring a lot of drama with her wherever she goes. This is going to be a blessed day that we'll all want to look back on fondly for the rest of our lives, and I don't want to be looking through the photo albums in twenty years with this phase flapping her wings across the page!"
They were both silent for a long moment before Bronwyn barely more than whispered, "Shayera is my girlfriend. She's not a phase."
"Bronwyn, I love you. You're bright; you've got a good heart; you know what you want out of life, and you're determined enough to run right through any barriers that get put in front of you. I don't approve, and I think you're making a mistake. But we all make mistakes. Especially when we're young."
"It's not a mistake, Mom."
Her mom smiled back, her head shaking so faintly Bronwyn might have imagined it, her shoulders rising in a nearly imperceptible shrug. "You might have kept this from me, but you're still my baby girl, and I know there are a few things you want more than anything. You want to help people, you want to do right by God, you want to win a gold medal one day, and you want to be a mother. Even if you think you want this girl now, sooner or later you'll realize you want other things more.
Let's go to church. We'll talk about this later."
"I was told not to give you any blood," Alexis told Eadha, sipping their soup gingerly. It was okay, but still too spicy for their tastes. "So you have to ask Shayera and Bronwyn if it's okay first, then they can tell me and I can give you the blood. But not until they say it's okay."
SLASHER STRIKES AGAIN
by Justine Jakubowski
In the middle of the past weeks of chaos concerning mythological creatures coming into Halcyon City and wreaking havoc, the fourth in a series of linked murders and assaults happened Tuesday night. Sources have indicated that the victim and their wounds match that of the unknown suspect. There are currently no leads on the identity of the culprit.
Last week, Alton Finch, 54, formerly known as Rush Job before retiring from super crime fifteen years ago, was critically injured and still currently comatose. He the only known survivor, and police have brought him into protective custody in an undisclosed facility on the chance he may wake and identify his assailant. Police also uncovered thanks to the investigations of Whippoorwill that Finch was operating an unlicensed workshop appearing to cater to criminal clients. "This may play into the motives of the suspect who attempted to kill him, but we can't be sure of anything at this time," spoke one officer Yang of the Halcyon City Police Department. It is currently unknown if the DA will be seeking to revoke his parole status for the violation...
Alexis was still more than a little torn about the article. They had been following the local news in order to try and get a sense of what was going on with all of the appearance of monsters. That, and the fact they were mostly cooped up in Shayera's penthouse unless they went out on patrol, were their main focuses when they weren't training in the gym. They still didn't know if it was right to tip off the police about the workshop or not, but perhaps it would be for the best.
Currently, they had finished their workout, ate enough to satisfy themselves for a few hours, and were geared up for a day patrol. It was perhaps a bit strange for most of the public to see them walking brisking along the sidewalk, but they figured that it was less of a problem now than when they were afraid the boot would land on their neck. Turned out when you were sure it was already there, some of the fear of not knowing was gone.
Of course, not everything was quiet, and it wasn't long until they managed to end up in another battle. This time it appeared that a thin, pallid giant with overly long limbs and an elongated skull was scooping up chunks of rubble, slinging them around at ridiculous speeds that pulverized cars and ripped open buildings. Mercy was quick to head in that direction, hoping to make up for the errors they'd made last week against that giant wolf...
==================
Marco ambled over at his next break, a look of faint confusion on his face. "Did Bron have a message for me or something? Her parents didn't take her phone again did they?"
Shayera pulls down her sunglasses to reveal a look of greater confusion. "No. And no. At least, I don't think so. I came to watch her practice. Do you where she is? I know she misses a lot of practices, but I not aware of anything going on tonight.
Marco's face moved through a look of almost furtive understanding before settling back into confusion. "Uh Shayera? She quit the team like two weeks ago. Right after that last villain day where her sobrinos got grabbed."
Shayera goes quiet and looks far off into the distance for a time. Without looking up, she says softly, "She didn't tell me."
"Oh.
"Well she didn't really tell anyone. I mean, she told Coach. But like, en privado. Coach spread the word a bit but there wasn't like a big speech or anything."
Shayera begins fussing at her outfit, smoothing out some nonexistent wrinkles and picking at motes of dust. "I see. Um, yeah. I guess I look a bit out of place here." Her cheeks felt hot.
"I guess? I don't really see why you get so dressed up for class."
Shayera stares at her lap. "Yeah. It's not like I'm impressing anybody." She flicks her sunglasses back and forth casually -- dangerously considering how expensive they were.
"So you didn't ask her to do this? Ro- Some people thought that maybe... But you didn't?"
Her mascara-enhanced eyes go wide as she looks up in shock. "No! Of course not! Track-- She loves track!"
Marco gave a huge, helpless shrug. "I figured there must've been something else she loved more. Look, it's not really around the school, but I know her house got like, partly burned down, right?"
Shayera nods tightly. "I know."
"Coach said it wasn't that, but we figured, if she's just having like, an anxiety freakout or something... We weren't supposed to, but...
Just tell her that we spiked the paperwork. If she wants to come back."
"I'm trying to help. I've offered... offered. You know. But she's not really interested in a hand-out. Not that I'd call it that, but... She draws in a breath and forces a smile. "Yeah. I'll let her know."
"Yeah. She likes helping out more than being helped."
"Uh-huh." Shayera goes back to staring at her lap.
Marco looked like he wanted to put his arm around her, but just kind of awkwardly stared at his hands. "Hey I'm sorry. This really sucks. But like, at least she's not leaving you, right?"
Noting the sour tang of anxiety to Marco's scent, she rolls her shoulders and puts her sunglasses back on. She looks up, the smile on her face still a bit forced but mostly hidden underneath the oversized shades. "Yeah. That's right. And Yu Hiu likes you, you know." She pulls down her shades just enough to look over them, making eye contact with Marco.
"Yeah?" He gave a somewhat relieved smile. "Well... I mean, you know Bronwyn's crazy about you. There was like, a cloud hanging over her the whole time you two were split up. You should talk to her. I don't know what her reasons are, but she's gotta have 'em, y'know?"
Shayera winces a little about the breakup. "Yeah. Thanks. We talk," she defends. "We talk lots. And we'll... have to talk about this. After a pause, she adds, "It'll be good."
Shayera twists her torso back and forth, scowling. "It feels weird. My whole body is being squeezed."
She is wearing a black-and-gray suit contoured and form-fitted of dyna-cloth, with reinforced areas on the knees, thighs, and forearms. "And I can barely feel anything through it."
"This is the lightest, most breathable dyna-cloth variant Matrix could develop. Anything lighter and it might as well not be protective at all. At this thickness, it can stop a snakebite," Whippoorwill says, pointedly.
Shayera's scowl intensifies, then she turns to Bronwyn. "What do you think?" she asks, squaring up to face her.
Bronwyn shifted uneasily in her own suit, a much brighter red. I think this whole thing was a long-con so you could trick my butt into spandex..." She sounded like she was joking, mostly.
Shayera grins despite herself and her own tight garment she was wearing. "Naah. Though if you want, we could go totally 90s retro. Let's see..." she looks down at her outfit and points out her front and sides. "A window here, cut out the panels here and here, and then go without leggings at all to expose the butt -- and then add pouches. Gotta have a lot of pouches."
Bronwyn dutifully winced with pained laughter at the idea, though her gaze also tracked Shayera's theoretical tailoring quite closely. "But yeah. I mean... I'm always in favor of anything that means you don't have to heal as much. I know it's not quite as comfortable, but do you think it'd still be alright to move in?"
Shayera shrugs, then bends over to touch her toes. "I can move okay. It's just I can't feel as much. You know, wind, air pressure, temperature shifts that tell me what's going on." She stands back up, kicks a leg up high and catches her ankle. "The weight will take some getting used to as well."
Bronwyn blinked, hard, and carefully turned towards Whippoorwill while she thought. "But you would get used to it, right? I've definitely had to figure out the whole armor thing again too. I'd come close to doubling my weight if I had as much steel as I did in my Bran suit. A hundred or so pounds isn't much for me to lift, but any change in weight can matter at the right speeds or angles."
"You're not wrong," Whippoorwill replies. "But even a small change in weight has a much greater impact on fliers. Especially ones with wings. I don't like more than a five pound variance in my loadout." She frowns as she watches Shayera do some flips, aided by flaps of her wings. "I'm more worried about blocking your sensory input. I'll ask Matrix to work on some more breathable meshes, if it's really having an effect."
"Maybe I'll just let it get tore up some," Shayera offers.
Whip rolls her eyes. "Please don't. This is very durable. Anything that can tear it will likely disembowel you."
If she actually drops the leggings and goes into battle as a sexy warrior gymnast I might actually die Bronwyn shook her head to clear it. "Yeah, wherever the balance needs to be. Like, for me this is a good undersheath but I'd like to see how we can incorporate some of this."
Facing sort of sideways she squatted down to start pulling out piece after piece of gleaming handforged steel.
Shayera stops stretching and testing out the limits of her outfit and looks at the pieces. "You've, uh, been busy, huh?"
Whippoorwill picks up a piece and studies it briefly before returning it. "That's more Whetstone's area of expertise. He might have some ideas for you." A computer chime comes from the next room and she steps out briefly.
Bronwyn grinned with a real note of triumph shining through. "I figured out what window I could go out without waking everyone up. I got in probably 40-50 forge hours this week"
Shayera grins half-heartedly. "That's good. You must've found a source of that type of steel you were looking for." She glances over her shoulder, spotting Whippoorwill tapping away at a computer console in the other room. She turns back and fiddles with the armor along her forearms.
"Switched grades. Less nickel, more manganese. You lose a little resistance to the elements but it's stronger and a lot cheaper"
"Okay. Hopefully the dyna-cloth will make up for that." She still doesn't look up, but her wings twitch. "You, uh, want to practice sometime? Sparring, I mean? I'll need a lot of reps in this suit."
"Sure, I need the practice. No live fire though, okay? I can't just shunt my injuries Elsewhere anymore."
"No problem. I won't risk hurting you." Shayera still avoids eye contact. She bends over and adjust the sturdy footgear, cinching them tighter.
Bronwyn rolls her eyes. "You don't have to go that far. Just treat me like I'm made of bulletproof glass, okay?"
She looks up with a smile. "Fine. I'll only hurt you a little. Wait, no. That doesn't sound right. I'll... make sure that armor works." She glances around the armory and steps over to one rack. She slides a couple collapsible batons into spots on the sides of her calves, and puts a number of smoke pellets into a belt pouch. "Ever think of making use of your track skills? Carry a few regular javelins so you're not always throwing away your magic one?"
The giant roared loudly as it stomped and tried to get someone underneath himself. Mercy didn't have a good look from this angle as they approach, looking for the best tactic in stopping the rampage. It wasn't looking likely they would be able to get this done without collateral damage, and-
They looked surprised as someone with pink hair and a leather jacket leapt up and slammed their fist straight into the giant's kneecap. There was a resounding CRUNCH that came from it, along with a loud laugh. "Crush me? I'd love to see you try, tiny!" The giant howled in pain and anger, scooping up more rubble to try and whip into their assailant.
It appeared to be a hero that Mercy was unfamiliar with here, but someone that was probably more experienced than Wingblade. They elected to assist, the armored hero rushing forward and vaulting up onto a nearby building to get to at least waist height. The giant's attention was all on the woman as he stomped and dropped broken bricks and plaster on top of her. That meant it was easy enough to leap and grab onto the giant's shoulder.
It shouted as it tried to reach up fast enough to get Mercy off of him, but it was too late for him to try at this point. The former soldier focused, reached back, and then slammed their open palm as hard as possible into the giant's temple. He froze up, before his grey eyes rolled back in his head as he started to fall.
Falling towards the street, and to smash into the opposing building. Mercy leaped and kicked the giant in the shoulder, diverting his descent to come short of causing more damage and falling more or less in the middle of the road. They unfortunately found themself getting pinned by the body on the way down, trapped under the torso as they held it up just barely.
They might have been crushed completely, had the load not been suddenly lightened by that woman lifting up from outside. She looked like she was made of some kind of metal, though that may have been just her power from what they could see. Still, they moved quickly out from under the giant, letting them lower it to the ground.
"Holy f#&*ing s$!~, dude! That was awesome!" They laugh, looking Mercy over as their skin changed back to a flesh tone. "You're that new guy, right? Mercer? Heard about you from Whip. I'm Tectonic, but you can call me Tec."
"...Mercy. And I'm not a guy," They reply, feeling a little insecurity from their familiarity. At least it seemed that the authorities were coming quickly to help contain the giant before it got back up.
"Oh. Oh, s@@$, my bad. Hard to tell with the armor. So, you run with Wingblade now? How's she doing?" Tec asked, checking her jacket and looking at the tears already in it. "Haven't had a chance to catch up with her in a while."
"I think she's fine..." Mercy felt awkward, but decided that if they knew Wingblade, they should at least be respectful. That and they did save them from being crushed by the giant.
Putting more confidence in his voice than Kaoru felt, he called out to the titan dressed in white robes. "Themis. I was starting to think you might not show up."
The woman turned to look in his direction before starting to walk towards him. "He needed to be driving in order to crash." She responded simply. "You know my name."
He nodded from behind his mask. "Yes, I've been following your work. I gotta say, I'm a fan." He supposed technically speaking Pinky had brought her activities to his attention. They had been right when they thought he might find her antics amusing.
"I simply put people in their place."
"Yeah, but you do it with style: making those dog fighters fight each other, beating up a wife beater, blinding a peeping tom...very poetic." Some people had been all up-in-arms about what had been going on, but as far as he was concerned, the so-called 'victims' had all earned what they'd gotten. It's certainly not at all like the so-called 'justice system' had managed to deal with them properly. The a$%!+#*s had practically bragged about getting away scot free, either due to money, connects, or dumb technicalities.
"Yes, there is much wrong in this city. The scales must be balanced."
"Oh, no doubt. You're doing good work. I just wanted to come out and see you in action. But I gotta admit, I'm curious: why Halcyon?"
"There is much wrong in this city. The scales must be balanced." She repeated.
"Well, yeah, you said that. I just mean...it seems like you're trying to balance an elephant by putting grains of sand on the other scale, one at a time. It doesn't exactly seem like the most...efficient way of doing things."
"It is the right thing to do. If it takes me a thousand years, then so be it."
"But wouldn't it be better to tackle something a little...well...bigger?" Not that that was really her fault. He doubted a being from Ancient Greece knew the proper information sources to find the really big crimes. And apparently she hadn't bothered to look past the first random blog complaining about injustice she had found. "Y'know, set a big, noticeable example that'll make people think twice before stepping out of place?"
She paused. She may not care about having to do hard work, but she was practical. She had no reason to turn down a suggestion of a better way to do things. "I'm listening."
"Well, there's a lot of bad stuff going on in Africa. Plus, bonus points, it's just across a sea from your old stomping grounds in Greece."
"I will go wherever I am needed. Its proximity to one place or another does not matter. What only matters is the injustice."
"Right. Well, as I was saying, there's a lot of bad stuff going on around there. Lots of killing. Genocide. Oppression." He shifted slightly uncomfortably; there were some things no one deserved, poetic or not. "Ummm...rape. Y'know, that kind of thing. Lots of bad warlords doing terrible things. You turn things around there and people are going to notice. You'll not only be balancing that scale but also preventing elephants from joining that other elephant to make things even more unbalanced."
She paused, considering.
"Plus, y'know, you can always come back here and continue where you left off."
She was still hesitating.
"And, I mean, there isn't exactly a lot of people stepping in to stop things over there. Here in Halcyon, we attract wanna-be-heroes like a magnet. You can't walk down the street without bumping into someone who wants to balance the scales."
"Like you?"
He started.
"You tried to stop that man."
"Oh, ummm...yeah, I guess?"
"You weren't very good at it."
He flushed hot under his mask. Spluttering slightly before collecting himself. Yelling angrily at a giant was a very dumb idea. And while his position gave him the high ground, he wasn't exactly out of arm's reach... "It was the right thing to do." He echoed, imitating her smooth, matter-of-fact tone. Though he couldn't help but add "It wouldn't even have taken a thousand years; he was about to hit my backup plan, which definitely would have stopped him"
"So then, I will deal with Africa while you balance the scales here."
He paused. While the self-aggrandizing BS most of the 'heroes' here practiced didn't appeal to him, he had to admit the thought of punishing arrogant a!+%%@%s who publicly flaunted the law like this was...appealing. He just wasn't entirely sure if he could actually do it. As excited as he was about the shiny new sword he had ordered, having a cool sword and actually, y'know, using it on a living creature were quite different things. But he could at least take steps to ruin their reputations and/or livelihoods. It wasn't always going to be as poetic, but it's not like it was something he had never done before. And starting off like this certainly didn't prevent him from changing his mind later.
"Yes. I will 'balance the scales' here." He agreed.
Plus worse came to worse, he could always change his mind later. He had a feeling she wasn't likely to know how to lookup Halcyon news to check up on him.
"Ever think of making use of your track skills? Carry a few regular javelins so you're not always throwing away your magic one?"
Bronwyn made a face. "There's a reason you don't carry those around during all the other running and jumping. A few extra eight-and-a-half foot poles do tend to get in the way."
"Get something smaller then." Shayera picked up a throwing knife, flipped it in her hand, and threw it at one of the armor pieces where it bounced off with a clang. "The bad guys aren't going to blow a whistle if it's not regulation-sized."
"Hmm. Fair. Maybe I could get something telescoping? They wouldn't be as good for up close and personal, but hopefully that wouldn't be needed?" Bronwyn tied on her armor as she mused. There were still plenty of weakpoints in her suit, places where being able to quickly don it without a partner meant flexibility had to take the lead over protection.
"Still haven't finished the helmet, but things are getting close."
Shayera nodded, and gestured to the weapon racks. "There should be something that'll work." She picked up and tested a few extendable bo staffs with her back to Bronwyn. She spun one around with a flourish, then set it back in its cradle. She picked up another that extended long enough to be used for pole vaulting but frowned at the balance.
"So when we spar are you a person or a monster?"
"I'm a what?"
"Spear or no spear?"
"Oh. Either. Both. One, then the other, probably. It's not like I haven't had Gae-Dearg through my midsection."
"Well I promise not to do that without good reason."
Shayera smiled at Bron and stuck out her tongue. Her grin faded as she looked at her. "When were you going to tell me?"
"...That I don't plan to impale you?"
Shayera shook her head and pulled another collapsible pole off the wall, this one extending out to a point. She tossed it lengthwise to Bronwyn. "No, about you quitting track."
Bronwyn snatched it out of the air, sliding her hands down the haft and snapping it up in a guard position. "When I was ready to talk about it. So later."
Shayera takes a reflexive step back. Mixed expressions war briefly on her face before she finally nods brusquely. She turns back to the weapons, picking up a pair of tonfas and spinning them casually before putting them back. "Okay. It's just that... I went out to watch you practice yesterday and didn't see you. No big deal, really. We'll talk when you're ready." She was pretty sure she kept the hurt out of her voice.
Bronwyn slid forward, weight evenly balanced as she shifted her grip on the spear. "Fine, let's start. I quit the team, and I quit meets. I haven't quit track. If you know anything in my division, believe me, I'm open to it." The haft blurred as she levered the blunt end for Shayera's temple in a viciously quick blow.
Shayera's head snaps to the side as the haft whistles past. Fluidly she spins as she drops low and sends a sweeping kick threatening to take Bronwyn's legs out from under her.
Bronwyn felt herself beginning to fall, and went with it, dispersing that momentum in a tight back somersault which brought her back to her feet with a stomp that sent a tremor running through the floor.
Shayera wasn't in the same place when she came up from her tumble. Bronwyn felt a hard clang! against her shoulder pauldron from Shayera's baton, close enough to her head to tell her that she'd chose to strike at the armor. The blurred form of Shayera moved fast, staying just ahead of Bron's spear.
Until that space was gone. She had close to a foot of reach over Shayera, and that was before the spear, and while Shayera was fast, here, on the ground, Bronwyn was just a touch faster. Relentlessly she drove Shayera back towards the corner, forcing her to make a move or get pinned to the wall again.
"You're not gonna win by trying to count coup."
Shayera smirks in response. She falls back, barely evading the spear tip as it drives her backwards. She baits a strike to push her into the corner, then deflects the follow-up strike off her forearm guards. The spear gets driven into the wall, lodging there for a brief second. In that instant, Shayera springs forward, zig-zagging right then left, planting a medium-force strike against Bronwyn's planted knee to get it to buckle as she moves past her. "Just getting warmed up."
Bronwyn raised her knee a fraction to take the kick with the sound of bone on bone. Her hand shot out the side but couldn't get good purchase and her fingers squeaked off Shayera's bodysuit as she darted past. "Shoulda gone for the arm," she muttered.
"So let me get this straight," Shayera starts as she shifts into a far more offensive stance, twirling her batons as she paces in a half-circle, "you quit meets and practices, but you didn't quit track? I don't follow." She darts in, bringing her sticks down in an 'X' for a block Bronwyn's jab.
"Didn't quit practicing either," Bronwyn grunted, whipping the long haft of her spear up in a two-handed staff block. "I practice all the time. But there's no point in pretending that I belong at a track meet with the Hornets. I'm not sure what my PB is with a javelin anymore; right now I'm focusing on breaking 3 in the 100-meter."
"So it's 'cause you're enhanced," Shayera huffed, launching a flurry of jabs with the batons. She used them to compensate for her much shorter reach as she kicks off a weighty table to vault over the point of Bronwyn's spear and get in close where the weapon won't be as useful.
Bronwyn dropped the spear without fretting, trying to stop Shayera's blows, but accepting that a bunch would get through. "Track is a sport about beating yourself, not just collecting medals against people who aren't at your level. I competed against Halcyon as an Unaffiliated while I was still in junior high, and I went straight to Varsity once I got here. Before the Spear, Coach and I had been talking about what the training ramp up was gonna have to be if I wanted to add an extra Olympic to my career. And when the plan was still to put Gae-Dearg on the shelf for a while in a couple-few years, it made sense not to blow everything up."
"Okay pause?" One of her hands was grabbing onto Shayera's waist in a little c-shape just above the curve of her hip. "I know this is a crappy croissant of a hold, but can you break my grip quickly? 'Cause I don't want to actually, like, smash you into the ground to score the point. Or however we're keeping score."
Shayera grinned fiercely. "You could try."
"Shayera, this is practice and I'd be slamming you into the ground by your spleen. Is a spleen a fun thing to grow back?"
Shayera arched an eyebrow. "Give me some credit."
Bronwyn's grip tightened, and she and Shayera dropped to the floor like a stone. She felt batons hooking behind her neck, but before Shayera could finish her counter, they both slammed to the ground with an almost infrasonic thud. Bronwyn whipped her other arm up, but she was already... falling? She twisted in mid-air as her momentum sent her careening over her ashen-faced girlfriend, just tucking her head as she realized there was no way she was getting control of this fall.
She bounced twice before rolling up against the wall, but she came up with a smile. As Shayera sucked in great lungfuls of breath Bronwyn demanded, "Show me how you did that!"
"It'd been better if you -- wheeze -- weren't so fast," Shayera says as she rolls up herself. "Highly modified Judo, for when your opponent is about fifty times stronger than you." She chuckles as she rises to her feet. "It takes some--" She doesn't finish the thought when she feels an intense glare on her back. She glances over to see Whippoorwill standing in the doorway, looking severe. "What?!?" she snaps.
"You know what." The Defender's voice is calm, but loaded with disappointment.
Shayera groans in the back of her throat. "It's-- I mean, you know! I can't just--!"
Whippoorwill's only response is an arched eyebrow.
She turns to look at Bronwyn with a sheepish look, then back to her mentor. "We might be moving on to lessons anyway."
"Oh, okay. Should we reset to that grab? Or..." She looked between Whip and Wing, trying to decipher their body language.
"Yes!" Shayera exclaims, then sneaks an apologetic look to Whippoorwill. She deliberately turns away to avoid Whip's eyes and bounces over to where Bron had returned to her feet. "This is pretty hard and requires a lot of precision plus fluidity, since you don't want to match strength for strength. I mean, I don't. You might be strong enough to get away with some of that. Here." She returns to their position.
"Okay. So did you already have the hold prepped? Or was that something you shifted into after I called for the pause? I know some of it was the tonfas, but you were doing something with your legs that I didn't track..."
"Well, since we paused, I couldn't go into the counterthrow until you committed. That threw the timing off for me. But I hook into your core, either with the tonfas or by grabbing your shoulder," she lets one of the sticks clatter to the floor as she grabs a hold of Bron's pauldron. "Legs are tricky, but vital since I need to shift your center of gravity to mine, like this." She hooks one leg around the back of Bronwyn's knee. There's a brief pause when Shayera realizes how entwined the two of them are.
"Usually there's a lot more aggression coming from the opponent."
"Okay, okay. So..." she began lowering them to the ground once more, this time in grindingly slow motion until she felt the pressure on her leg joints angle her momentum away from the simple vertical smash she'd attempted. "So what if I sprawl?" Snapping back to full speed she shot both feet out behind herself and collapsed on top of Shayera in a heap.
"I know it's not dignified," she said, craning her neck away from Shayera's chest as she realized she was still wrapped up in Shayera's legs and tonfas, "But it'll at least let me stay in close against a speed-fighter, right?"
"That's where being fluid comes in," Shayera grunts under the weight of Bronwyn and her armor on top of her. "Sensing that and getting out of there before... well... this." She struggles a bit, then pauses. "For you, if you're like this, I think you just push with all your strength. Since you don't have a pair of superstrong wings on your back."
With that, Shayera's wings snap straight out, shoving them both up into the air like she'd laid on a coiled spring. Her legs twist to keep Bronwyn's feet from touching the ground solidly, and she drives a fist into Bron's chest to gain some separation.
Bronwyn's eyes widened involuntarily, but she fought down the urge to catch herself, or figure out exactly what of Shayera's was wrapped around where, and just held on tight until they both toppled back over in a clatter of wings and armor.
This time when they landed, Shayera had twisted so that she was on top, and without catching herself at all, Bron was the one who needed a second to catch her breath. "Heh," she gasped, "Girlfriend-fu's always got a takedown if you need it."
The penthouse elevator opened up and Alexis stepped back inside, their armor stuffed into their duffel. It was now becoming more and more of a hassle for them to continue to put it on, take it off, and do it all over again. It wasn't expedient, and the additional protection of the heavy armor seemed less and less useful. They could heal, they could do with something lighter at least for when they needed to suit up quickly. Their plans to find a faster way to don their current armor was currently in ruins, and Eadha still hadn't managed to get them a proper charm...perhaps they needed a tech solution?
They stepped into the gym, pausing as they saw Bronwyn and Shayera, and Whippoorwill. "Ah," They said, alerting the others to their presence. "...Is that new armor?" They asked Bronwyn. Their tank top and shorts seemed to be underdressed for this. "...Oh. I'm interrupting. I should go," They say, backing away slowly.
The first was Silas Young, formerly known as Dragster, convicted for his use of an ability to make any vehicle he used run like a powerful racetrack car. As a getaway driver, he had gotten off lightly when caught, and paroled two years ago. He was killed by blood loss from multiple lacerations in his car during his E-Taxi shift. Police also found an unregistered firearm in his glove compartment, along with half a pound of prescription opioids.
The second was Satima Dinesh, who had created a pill that accelerated her speed and reactions to superhuman levels, and after a failed stint trying to be the hero Quicken, ended up on the wrong side of the law but later paroled under the condition she no longer work in pharmaceuticals. She was found beheaded after an anonymous tip brought investigators to a black market chemical lab in Rustside, her system swimming in her signature drug.
The fourth and latest victim was Nancy Chen, the Blink. She had been a significant threat in the Bronze Age with her power to significantly slow time around her for as long as she could resist blinking. She had actually skipped town after her parole, only to return two years ago back to her old tricks. Her eyes had been slashed over several times, the killing blow gutting her in what investigators assumed was her safehouse, a luxury apartment in midtown.
A detail in the reports that wasn't leaked to the press was one of the key details that linked the different killings was that all of the victims had defensive wounds, indicating they fought back against the slasher. Another was the brutality, where the victims were definitely made to suffer before their lives ended. Finally, they were all killed and wounded by the same kind of bladed weapon based on the wound patterns on the victims.
Wingblade tugged at the protective garment hugging her body while she went through the photos in the records room. She didn't like the pattern that was emerging amongst the victims and whatever it was that was attacking them. She wished that Alexis could be with her; this sleuthing was a major part of superhero work and she hoped that they'd take an interest in it. She could sort of understand being squeamish around a morgue, but sometimes it just had to be done.
She was feeding the locations of all the attacks into her Abacus handheld for some data analysis and to save for a future visit when the whole building shook. The tell-tale hum of an artificer field set her hairs on her arms standing up as the police headquarters' protection activated.
She rushed out of the room and into the hall, dodging as officers ran past. Rather than heading for one of the traditional exits, Wingblade raced to a large window which had a number of astonished officers gathered around, gawking at the sight of multiple giants moving through the city streets.
"Wow," Wingblade said as she pushed her way to the window. "Excuse me, that's something that I'll need to investigate further." She forced the window open and dove out.
She resisted the temptation of flying straight at the closest giant, wings forward. Instead, she gained altitude to get a better view of the number of giants in the streets. The giants were moving with purpose, Wingblade quickly noticed, and evidently not totally interested in just rampaging.
What to do now? she wondered as she circled higher, trying to get an accurate count or identify a leader. She wasn't having much luck doing either, until she looked up.
"That... is not a normal cloud," Wingblade said, eyeing a concentric ring of clouds circling the spire of the Kirby Tower, one of the tallest building in Halcyon. Its top was hidden by the flat circle of clouds, making Wingblade very curious.
She put her wings to work, climbing higher and higher until she reached the ring of clouds. As soon as she crested the top, she could see the spire of the Kirby Tower wreathed in an ethereal light rising up through the clouds.
She flew toward the tower, spying the old airship mooring platform for the times that dirigibles and blimps periodically come back into fashion. The high, art deco archways and buttresses gave the whole thing a strange sense that Wingblade was approaching a castle with its gate yawning open. Her keen ears picked out the sound of singing just barely through the whistling high-altitude winds.
The landing platform ringed a large, central chamber built during a time when wrought iron and bas reliefs were the order of the day. The old passenger disembarking station led into a bank of elevators to take the travelers down to the street level. Obviously not in use anymore, the old art deco designs shone as relics of a bygone age.
Landing softly on the platform, Wingblade stealthily slipped inside following the singing voice. She crept along the walls staying in the shadows while she tried to find the source of the singing and the strong musky scent clinging to the whole place.
She didn't get far in before she heard a booming voice,
"You gotta be kidding me," Wingblade said in response, as she dove into a deep patch of shadow just as a massive giant stepped around a wall and into view. He was so tall he had to crouch to keep from knocking his massive head into the old chandeliers. He stuck his oversized nose out and breathed deep, creating a wind that Wingblade could feel. He started to move in the direction of the winged hero, but he paused.
The singing had faltered at the giant's pronouncement. He swung his great head around.
"I'm sorry!" came a trembling voice, which then began singing again in a mournful soprano.
Wingblade took advantage of the brief distraction to dash from her hiding place and deeper into the spire. She spots the singer and recognizes her as someone she'd seen on Devaun's playlist of artists he followed. She was in a gilded cage hanging high above the floor in a spot that, despite probably being terrifying, gave her very good acoustics all things considered.
Beneath her was all sorts of other treasures, though she hadn't the slightest idea of how the giant could have gotten them all up here. There was a Bugatti Veryon sports car, bottles of Pappy Van Winkle, casks of Dom Perignon, Fendi fur coats, Louis Vuitton handbags, Hermès luggage, Gucci clothing, and Rolex watches. She was pretty sure the artwork propped against the wall was from Picasso and Renoir.
"Okay, I doubt this crap's yours," Wingblade announced as she stepped out of the shadows. "So I'm going to have to insist you return it all. And set the lady free, too."
The giant loomed over Wingblade, fists clenched and toothy mouth set into a snarl.
Wingblade gritted her teeth. I hope he doesn't expect me to rhyme. "Look, your majesty, you don't belong here. Get out, and take your giants with you. Leave the stuff -- especially the singer."
The giant scowled and swung at Wingblade, who dove out of the way. Her wings took to flight and she buzzed past the giant's face. He swiped at her again and again as she danced around his meaty fists. During one pass she nicked his ear and he grunted in more anger than pain.
She managed to catch the sun in her wings and reflected the light directly into the giant's eyes. While he was temporarily blinded, Wingblade flew up to the cage and swiftly slashed the lock open. "Let's go, we gotta -- are you filming?"
"I'm actually live-streaming," the singer said as she jumped into Wingblade's arms.
Wingblade's retort was drowned out by the recovered giant, who charged at the two. Wings flapping hard, the Protégé was barely able to turn the giant's swing into a glancing blow that sent the two sprawling to the mooring platform. Wingblade twisted to take the brunt of the blow and protect the singer when they hit the floor.
The giant pursued as the two scrambled to their feet. The singer shrieked as she nearly stepped off the edge of the platform while Wingblade rolled out of the way of the charging giant. His momentum carried him almost to the edge, but he brought himself to a stop just in time.
Coming up out of her roll, Wingblade spotted a coil of mooring line next to her. The singer had climbed down a rickety service scaffold to stay out of the giant's reach, who had turned his attention to her and her precarious position.
The rusted and weathered scaffold screeched under the singer's weight, and old bolts popped. With a grinding sound of tearing metal, the scaffold gave way. The giant reached out and caught it, saving the singer at the last minute.
Until the edge of the platform gave way.
Wingblade was moving the instant she saw the giant drop away from her view. She had the mooring line in both hands as her wings blurred behind her, diving off the edge chasing the falling pair. She caught up fast to the bulky giant and flew around him once, twice, two and a hal-- then the mooring line went taught, and stretched, and thankfully held.
The singer tumbled out of the scaffolding she had ridden most of the way down, and Wingblade was moving again, diving to catch her. She slowed their descent just in time and with a scream pulled out of the fall.
Wingblade dropped the singer off on a nearby roof and flew back to the dangling giant. "Lemme try this: Fe fi fo feaving; I think you and your giant pals will be leaving."
Shayera slips out of the hold and bounds up to her feet. "Hi, Alexis! You don't have to go," she says, missing the reason why the Bull might be uncomfortable. She glances down at what she's wearing. "Yes, new outfits. Bron's going to wear hers under her armor; I'm just going with this. If it doesn't slow me down too much."
She snaps her fingers. "Oh! How's the search for a quick-change trick for your armor? Did Eábha come through with some magic?" She looks over her shoulder at Bronwyn for a moment, then forges ahead anyway. "I got my charm from my father. Who's not a magic user that I know of, but he's got some resources. You want me to ask him where he got mine?"
"She wants my blood in exchange for the charm. Bronwyn said I shouldn't give her blood, so I didn't," Alexis stated concisely. "...I think that maybe I should give up the armor. But not without a charm for disguising myself and something to replace it. It was made to be worn all the time, so donning and taking it off take too long."
At the offer of her father's help, they considered it for a moment. "I think...that would work. And Bronwyn can help me figure out what to do for new armor," They said, looking over Wingblade at their doppelganger. "Uh. Something more protective, but not as heavy as my current one. It will need a full helm. I think it's still important to present that," They suggest.
"Oh. Uh, I also met someone. Fighting a giant in Rustside. She said she was Tec? And that she'd like to catch up with you sometime soon. She was very...um, loud."
"Oh, Tectonic? Yeah, I saw her last at the Gala, and we didn't get much of a chance to catch up. I'll need to give her a call sometime. I mean, with all this spare time I have I don't know why I haven't talked with her sooner." She quirked an ironic smile.
Going back to the topic of new armor, Shayera runs her hand through her hair as she thinks. "If you want to change your armor, you might want to check out the Defenders HQ. They may have some old stuff that you can use. But I'll still check with Dad. I'm going to see him in tomorrow afternoon anyway. I'll ask him about a charm." She turns to meet Bronwyn's eyes. "You're still going to come with us, right? Don't let me forget."
Shayera meets Bronwyn at their prearranged rendezvous and flies her to just outside Halcyon city limits where a large private research campus sits amidst landscaped office parks and light industrial buildings.
She was mostly quiet, an unspoken nervousness holding her about the mysterious meeting that her father had called for the Daughters of the Tiger. I'm being silly, Xiu Ying thinks. It's Dad. He's probably got a job for us, and it'll be a good thing to do. Bronwyn will approve it, and then my sisters won't be as eager to go back to China. Win-win-win. She almost convinced herself on the flight over.
She drops to the roof of a modern and new warehouse and unhooks the harness. Xiu Ying was wearing her black catsuit that she usually wears when acting as one of the Daughters, but hadn't put on the mask yet since she knows it would make Bron uncomfortable. As soon as they land, she uses her charm to hide her wings.
The roof is empty and featureless except for an access door. It sports a high-tech looking electronic lock, so Xiu Ying pulls out her tiger mask. She gives Bron an apologetic smile and a quick kiss, then pulls the mask over her face.
"The rest of us are already inside," she says, then puts her hand on the panel. A few seconds pass, then the door unlocks. She pulls open the door and holds it for Bronwyn to enter, then slips in behind her.
The stairs lead down into the facility, opening into a long hallway with several doors with swipe-card locks. Xiu Ying picks one without hesitation and again places a hand on the reader. It unlocks.
"I have left plenty of shadows in my lab, so there shouldn't be any need to-- Oh." The Man in the White Coat is standing behind a table in a pristine laboratory, well-lit except for the far corners where some of the ceiling lights are purposefully unlit leaving them in deep shadow. It is near those shadows the three other Daughters stand.
The Man in the White Coat watches quietly as the Daughters are reunited, his thick glasses reflecting the light in the lab. The table has a lumpy object covered in a clean white cloth, and there is a device that looks similar in function to a dentist's chair anchored to the floor next to the table. A track of operating lights bathe the area around him in light.
"Good evening, Miss Pascal. Welcome. It's a pleasure to see you again, even unexpectedly. I'm quite excited about this meeting, so it will be nice to have an audience."
Bronwyn didn't bother to fake a smile. "It's far from mutual."
Okay. He didn't know I was coming, which is good. He wanted to make sure the Daughters had shadows nearby. Did they demand that? Did he really know that I'd be coming and want to make sure they had good terrain in a fight? No... he thought I summoned Bran. He doesn't know what I can do. Probably.
Ambush doesn't fit anyways. He doesn't like me, but I don't think he hates me enough to make Shayera kill me. Not when it makes it less likely to work at least. So if it's not betrayal, it's temptation.
"Well don't let me stop you from this whole unveiling thing you've got going on. If you'd told me your plan earlier I could have even seen about some novelty-sized scissors, but this is good too."
The Man in the White Coat doesn't react to Bronwyn's jest, but a soft titter of laughter comes from the Daughters.
"As I was saying," he says, turning his full attention to the girls in masks, "I would like for you to help me in testing a theory of mine. You will be well compensated for assisting in this trial. I've something here that will no doubt interest you, and will make you even closer as sisters. Let me show you."
He gives the cloth covering the object on the table a sharp tug, revealing it to be a set of metallic wings almost identical to Wingblade's. The sharp feathers glint under the lights. They are avian in design, connected to a central spinal ridge sporting wicked-looking barbs and hooks where they would go against the back.
Despite their masks' stoic visages, the Daughters show a fascination in their body language. They all take several steps forward to get a closer look at the wings. The Man in the White Coat's mouth turns up into something like a smile. "Only certain genetic codes can bond with the living metal that these wings are made of. Xiu Ying possesses those genetic markers. I'm curious to see if the magic of your masks will allow the rest of you to also connect to the metal. I feel strongly that it can. Hence, I've gone to this expense to create another set of wings. I would hope you are willing to try them on."
The masked faces, which had been focused on the wings on the table, snap up to regard the Man in the White Coat. "How do they work?" they ask in unison.
"I won't lie to you. The initial installation will be quite painful. But you understand the need for them to be properly anchored and connected to your spinal cord. Xiu Ying's healing ability should protect you during that process. Then, it will be up to you whether you will be able to control them."
The Daughters look at each other for a moment, then back to the Man. They nod once.
He smiles his oily smile. "Excellent. I would recommend the Daughter who is Xiu Ying remove her pendant for this. At the very least, so we don't mix you up and put the wings on the one Daughter that doesn't need them."
One of the four reaches underneath her catsuit and pulls a pendant out and over her head. Instantly, her wings materialize. The Man in the White Coat catches sight of the bent feather immediately and a look crosses his face. It's the look that Stradivarius might get if he saw that someone had etched a vulgarity across one of his violins.
"How did that happen?" his voice strained.
After a pause, Xiu Ying responds, "In battle."
"...I see." A vein pulsed on the Man's temple, and with effort he turned his attention back to the experiment.
Bronwyn raised her hand in feigned politeness. "Just a quick question. Is this the version of the wings with or without all the scanners and spyware?" She turned towards the Daughter who was Shu Zi. "Anything getting plugged into your central nervous system is worth kicking the tires on first, right? And before you sign off on it too quickly, give it a think. How would you hide something from someone with your abilities. Even if he's on the level, he'll have thought about it. You should to."
The Man gives an irritated glance towards Bronwyn, then gestures to the wings. "These devices are purely mechanical. They lack even the most rudimentary circuitry; the only thing able to control them would be an individual with the unique genetics as I've stated earlier -- or someone able to mimic those genetics."
He runs a hand along the spinal anchor. "I have made sure they are removable as well. I have my doubts about the health of the wearer if you did not share Xiu Ying's abilities. I would not recommend removing your masks until the wings are also removed. An inconvenience, I'm sure, but I imagine a small price to pay for sharing such a gift with each other."
One of the Daughters also places a hand on the set of wings. The one who was Xiu Ying turns her head to Bronwyn. "He is right. It's quiet."
They speak in unison to the Man in the White Coat. "Why would you give this to us? Just to satisfy your curiosity?"
His face grows stern. "I find myself in need of allies. The Triakosia have not left Halcyon City, despite my warnings and certain... actions. I need a deterrent to prevent any further retribution. If the wings work, I will provide two more, in exchange for the Daughters of the Tiger being that deterrent."
"We're not soldiers."
"But you are mercenaries. I'm not asking you to go to war, but to defend my interests. And you need a reason to stay in Halcyon City, correct?
"Before we discuss this further, why not first see if they work?" he adds, a note of exasperation in his voice.
There's a moment of silence as the Daughters again look at each other. For a second, one glances over her shoulder at Bronwyn, but they then all nod.
One moves boldly to the chair and takes a seat. The chair is configured so that its occupant can lean forward almost to her stomach. The Daughter pulls the hem of her black shirt up to her neck exposing her back, then gathers her hair to make sure it's not in the way.
Something like excitement appears on the Man in the White Coat's face as he instructs the other Daughters to take hold of the wings and put the ridge of hooks and barbs in place over their sister's exposed back.
"Excellent. Now, the clamp and release mechanism is in a small recession. Here," he shows. "Align it like this, with the top just at the C7 vertebrae. Very good."
He takes a couple steps back, focused. "Yes. Yes. It looks properly aligned. Do it."
There's a click, and the sharp metal snaps closed sinking deep into the Daughter's skin. All four shudder and whimper as the pain is shared amongst them. Blood wells up from the sites where the hooks clamp into the Daughter's body, but the bleeding stops almost instantly. The wings on the Daughter who was Xiu Ying twitch and spasm reflexively.
A tense moment passes as all eyes are on the Daughter in the chair with the wings newly affixed to her back.
The tense moment continues as the Daughter in the chair stirs. First, she lifts her head. The other three take a step closer, and the two wingless Daughters begin assisting her out of the chair. Shaky hands pull down her shirt as best as it's able, but still leaves her stomach bare.
The Daughter who was Xiu Ying slowly extends and relaxes her wings like limbs being stretched. As the Daughter is being steadied, the new wings start to twitch. It's slow at first, jerky and trembling, but quickly smooths into a fluid motion matching her sister's.
The Man in the White Coat is rapt with attention, but as the wings begin to move, a satisfied smile starts to grow on his face. "Excellent," he says simply.
The body language of the Daughters becomes excited as the new wings' motion becomes smoother and more confident. The wings are quickly flapping like living things, in perfect unison with the other Daughter. The two square off, and the wings become a blur of movement as they run through some practice katas.
It's not long before they try their wings' true purpose. One launches into the air followed immediately by the second. The large laboratory is still tight confines for the winged fliers, but they twist and weave around the equipment with startling precision. They bank once in perfect unison and dive at the shadowy corner of the lab, where they disappear.
"Shall we adjourn to the roof?" the Man asks, then heads out of the lab without looking to see if he's followed.
On the roof, the two Daughters are engaged in an aerial dance. Mirroring each other in perfect harmony, they fly up and at each other only to bank away at the exact moment to avoid a collision. Then they spiral out in a corkscrew, weaving through the air in impossible tandem.
They continue like this for several minutes before finally returning to the roof, landing deftly next to the other two Daughters that had also made their way to the top.
The Man in the White Coat stands with his hands clasped behind his back. "They work quite well, I see. And with your shared consciousnesses, you will be a force to behold. I hope we can come to an agreement?"
The Daughters of the Tiger look at each other. "We... we will. Although our usual terms stand."
"Understood." The Man inclines his head.
"It's nice to see you again, Mercy. Are codenames acceptable for you?" Matrix asked the young hero as they followed him into his lab in the Defenders HQ. Mercy was not wearing their armor at the moment since it was part of what they were here for to deal with, having had little luck elsewhere.
"I...Alexis is fine," They say, feeling awkward about standing there with Bronwyn's face. It was better at least knowing that Matrix knew who Bronwyn was and that they weren't her. There was less to explain as well as they brought their armor out.
"It's become a problem. It was made to be worn for long periods, so it takes a lot of time to take it off or put it on again, and its harder to carry it around with me..."
"All right, so you're looking for ways to make it both more portable as well as something that you can put on quickly?" Matrix confirmed. "I think that I could help you with that. But the process may take a few days. There's other projects that I have to attend to, but I have enough time to tinker with it here. It's powered armor, correct?"
Alexis hesitated, feeling nervous about leaving their armor with an acquaintance like this. But this was the Defenders - Matrix was a good guy and they were sure that if Shayera and Whippoorwill trusted them, they should trust him too. "Yes. I don't know how it works, just that if it's damaged, it can restore itself - kind of like me," They point out as they load up the heavy armor onto an examination table.
"Interesting - nanotech, perhaps? Though there's a relatively compact power cell if its recreating matter..." Matrix took a look at the armor, tracing a finger along the helmet. "...All right, I have a few ideas. I can start today. Did you want to stay and watch?"
"I should...there's something else I need to be doing," Alexis admitted. "But thank you."
"All right, I'll let you know when it's ready," Matrix told them as he started to carefully start note and examine the armor. Alexis left him to his devices, feeling anxious but fighting the instinct to back out of this deal.
Outside, they took out their phone, calling Shayera. When it went to voicemail, they left a message. "I think...the slasher struck again. I think that we should still look for them. If that's okay. Call me back," They requested, ending the call and heading down the street.
When it's time to leave, three of the Daughters step into shadows and disappear. One remains, lingering with Bronwyn.
"Xiu Ying wishes to ask you about her charm, and whether another can be fashioned for her teammate," the remaining Daughter says to the Man in the White Coat.
The Man turns, tilting his head in interest. "Indeed? Hmmm." He makes a showing of thinking, bringing a hand to his chin. "I'll have to make inquiries, but it may be possible."
He gives a look to Bronwyn and smiles tightly. "I assume it's not for present company, is it? Likely the ex-Triakosian, then. I'll get back to her once I find out."
================
Shayera flips and barrel rolls in elation, then hastily steadies herself and Bronwyn. Once leveled out and flying straight, she says over the wind, "Sorry! Sorry, don't get sick. But isn't that so great? Wings for all my sisters! I was so surprised by Dad! I had no idea he was up to that. And it felt perfect! I can't wait for when all four of us are flying!" Bronwyn can feel more than hear her delighted giggle.
Bronwyn is quiet, not bothering to grin along while Shayera can't see her face. "I hope it works out." There are still a lot of ways it might not...
"Well, as long as the next two work as well as that one, I'm sure it will," Shayera says with confidence. "And how great is it that we're going to stay in Halcyon for a while longer? And fighting the Triakosia if they decide to stick around?" She starts another celebratory swoop but stops herself just in time before the stomach-churning maneuver.
A little tension leaves the muscles of Bronwyn's back as she replies, "Yeah. I'm glad you won't have to be separated...."
You can go for the dives if you want though. I am back on the patch," she teased, her smile audible despite the wind.
A barely-restrained squeal of delight issues forth from Shayera as she corkscrews once in a still relatively conservative maneuver. She angles toward a nearby skyscraper and lands, quickly unhooking the harness before falling backwards off the ledge in a crazy trust-fall. She drops out of sight for a moment, then streaks straight up in the air, finishing her apogee with a pirouette before dropping back down next to Bronwyn. Sheer, unbridled joy is on her face as she glomps onto Bronwyn and searches out her lips for a kiss.
He phone beeps, interrupting them. "Oh, that's Alexis. I probably should..." Still using one arm to sustain the embrace, Shayera retrieves her phone and checks it. "Crap. Bad guy killing bad guys. Or ex-bad guys. Still not sure yet. I should call her," she explains.
Shayera hits 'reply.' "Hey, Alexis. What's up?"
Alexis flinched slightly as the phone rang in their hands, answering it quickly as they stepped inwards on the sidewalk, leaning against a building.
"Just...I gave Matrix my armor. He said he'll make it better for me. I should ask Bronwyn if she had anything to spare while I wait," They consider offhandedly. "But...I wanted to know if you have any further leads on the slasher. If you got any information from the police."
They turn and look into the window of the bookstore they were leaning against, glancing at the shelves. "Do you know if there is anything that links them together? Something that the police wouldn't know?"
Shayera's sigh can be heard on the other end. "I heard back from the police, but I don't have anything that they don't know. The fourth victim is the Blink -- not Vick's mom, thankfully -- oh, wait. You probably don't know her. Anyway, the Blink could slow time down. She jumped parole a couple years ago, came back, and now is dead."
She puts the phone to her chest and looks at Bronwyn. "Alex and me are investigating a serial killer. You want to join us?" She gets back on the phone. "All of them fought back; all of them died by knife or blade wounds. I'm not sure what else links them except they're all ex-criminals with powers that are still dabbling in illegal stuff. Best bet would be to look into their pasts -- see if they all worked together on an old job, or if there's someone who still holds a grudge. Otherwise, we're most likely dealing with a murderous vigilante who's killing washed-up crooks."
Alexis listens to the details that Shayera shares, feeling equally frustrated. A lack of solid information on this vigilante meant that they could only make educated guesses. "well, they seem to favor bladed weapons. Maybe there is someone with links to them all with that preference? I thought you could find that out. Maybe they all worked on the same job once before? Or there was someone they all worked for that they may have betrayed?"
They paced for a couple moments, wondering if they should return to the Defenders HQ. But they were already having Mattix work for them...and in a moment of clarity, a wash of embarrassment filled them from a mental disconnect. Why did they think Matrix was a male? They had feminine signifies. They felt a mix of shame and self loathing.
They spoke again, still feeling a bit queasy. "...Maybe we could also look to see who caught them all? That's all I have for suggestions...and I think may have insulted Matrix..."
Kaoru was feeling edgy and off-balance. His choice of clothes had grown increasingly baggy resulting in a more-than-usual avoidance of mirrors. He hated the poor fit, but it was a choice between that and going insane with a constant awareness of his own skin. He had also grown increasingly anti-social. Which, given his current general lack of friends mostly meant he was avoiding Alexandra, and she had noticed. He was pretty sure the only reason she hadn't yet confronted him with it was because he had figured out that she was more likely to let him off the hook if he was busy doing "heroing" things as opposed to just lying on his bed getting lost in music. But he wasn't sure how long that would keep up. Every day he grew more certain a break up was imminent which then made him retreat more while then made things worse. It was a spiral of anxiety and he wasn't sure how to escape. Well, probably the escape was to somehow explain how uncomfortable any sort of touching made him. He used to love hugging her and holding her in his arms, but now every time he tried, he could slowly feel his anxiety ratcheting up until he had to pull away. And it wasn't just with her, even if she was the person with whom it was most obvious. He had no idea what was causing it and therefore no idea how to talk about it with anyone. So then he just avoided everyone.
Everyone except for, well, Pinky. Which wasn't the same since their relationship was entirely virtual. And it's not like he talked about these kinds of things with them anyway. It was mostly joking and "did you hear about X" and once he figured out the best way to distract himself, various little "missions" he could go on that would plausibly be helpful to the world in some way. But they didn't talk about anything too personal, and that's how he liked to keep it. Not that Pinky hadn't noticed some changes in whatever. They had expressed concern, but he'd asked them to drop it. It was one of the few outlets he still had, so he needed to keep their newly opened lines of communication intact less he drive them off with his issues and lose that too.
So...as far as he could tell, everything was going great. For the world anyway. And he pretended he was part of that world. Even if he could slowly feel the sides of the box he was living closing in tighter and tighter and eventually it'd be too small to move, too small to breathe. But if he pretended he was out in open space, he'd be ok, right? Mind over matter and all that? He was pretty sure that's how it worked anyway. Hopefully.
Shayera frowns as Alexis says they think they insulted Matrix. "Um, Matrix never seemed thin-skinned to me. Just apologize." She tries to cheer them up. "That's a really good idea, Mercy! You want to meet me back at Defender HQ? I can fly there right now; Matrix can go through the old news archives and figure out if there's a common hero that's fought them all."
She turns to Bronwyn, who she figured heard her side of the conversation with Alexis. "Hero stuff calls. Do you want me to drop you off, or do you want to join us? It might be nice to do something as a full team -- or at least what counts as a full team these days?"
It was more than a little awkward for Mercy to return so quickly and bother Matrix again. Even though Wingblade was coming to help smooth things over, they felt bad about what they had said.
Matrix took one look at Alexis after their apology and simply stated, "No need to apologize. Though I would wonder why you would think that about me."
"...I don't know. I just made a bad assumption. I didn't realize my mistake until after I left." Alexis replied. "And since we needed some technical help finding out about this slasher we're trying to track down, I would feel bad asking for anything more without apologizing."
Matrix paused again to survey Alexis, forming a smile. "Well, apology accepted. I can certainly look through the data you provide and give you common factors between the different victims, but don't you have your own data expert on your team?"
Alexis fidgeted, and shook their head. "They quit. They seemed miserable to be part of our team. I don't want to bother him anymore." At least since they couldn't find anything spectacular to entice him. He wanted some kind of interesting technology, but Alexis had no idea where to find something like that they didn't have to steal.
"Mmm. Well, I hope things work for the best for him. In any case, I should have the information you're looking for by the time Wingblade arrives."
"It took a bit of digging, but I was able to come up with several common factors between the four victims from examining their records. Dragster, Quicken, Rush Job, The Blink, all served time at one point or another at the Deep Ice Prison, or the Dip. Though there's no overlapping period where all were incarcerated at the same time, so I fear that's a dead end.
There are eleven factors in common with the individuals, but I'll give you the three most significant I believe for your investigation. The first being that each of them within the past year apparently received payments to either their own accounts or to relatives from a company called XPN Financial Services, marked as 'investment dividends'. It's interesting because the amounts are all the same at 73 thousand and eight hundred dollars.
Second, each of them had worked with or had business with one particular villain known to have a violent streak of his own, Deathmark," Matrix pointed out, bringing up the file on the villain in question. A black, blue and green motif to his attire, but Mercy's attention was to the various knives strapped to him. "He's also received the same payments from XPN. Mercenary for hire, though only been active for three years. Rush Job's files show that his suit gives him enhanced agility and speed, as well as added protection. Apparently he has an ability to mark people he touches so that anything he throws will home onto them.
The last common factor I've found is that all four of them have had the same parole officer. This jumped out at me, mostly because Delilah Rodgers had retired earlier this year. While it may mean nothing - correlation doesn't mean causation - I feel this may be a possible lead for finding out if the victims ever met with each other at her office, perhaps."
Wingblade is quiet for a while as she processes that information. "Well, seems like we need to have a chat with Deathmark. If we know where he is. If not, we go see PO Rodgers. Find out if she has any leads."
Alexis has a look of intense concentration on their face, mostly because they have to focus on not missing any of the points that Matrix has divulged from her analysis. They're not great at abstract thinking, but they want to try and be useful. So they look over at the recent victims, the common links given to them, and ponders what they could be missing.
"I have a request - can you send this data to our former teammate, Machina? I think that we could use more help. See if he can uncover any leads." Alexis asks her. Machina nods and considers the request. "Certainly, though I don't have his contact information. I will release the data to your penthouse computer, Wingblade - hopefully you should be able to deliver it," They tell the Protege.
Alexis stands up, thinking about the next step here. It was tough without more people. Not having a larger team felt like they were missing things and they were having to try and fill in gaps that they didn't fit. "Let's go after Deathmark. I think I might know a place someone like him would be known. If he's in Halcyon."
Wingblade pulls out her Abacus handheld and confirms the information arrived from Matrix. Then she forwards it to what she hopes is still an active account. "Well, hopefully Machina will open it, seeing as how it's from me. My last interaction with him was... unclear."
While she has the handheld out, she runs a "known associates" inquiry on Deathmark. It pops up a few names, but she pockets it without sharing them. Alexis had an idea, so Wingblade felt it better to explore their ideas first even if it didn't bear fruit. She was curious what Mercy might have in mind.
"Sounds good to me. You lead the way. Is this a place we should go incognito, scope out from a distance, or do we kick in the door taking names and kicking butt?"
"I think...scoping it out from a distance." Alexis informs her. "There's a place in the city. I was brought there a couple times that I can remember."
They paused, fidgeting a little. "...actually, I think I'm remembering more now than before. At least, of my time with them. And one of those memories is the Killzone. It's like a place where people can see someone like me demonstrate how they fight, so that they can get jobs. Sometimes there were fights between different people that people bet on."
Alexis gestures to themselves. "But it's also likely there's a pair of the Triakosia there. So I've avoided going near there. And it's possible we might be recognized, so I don't want us to get too close."
They look down at their hands. "Is Bronwyn going to join us, or will it just be us?"
Wingblade thinks about if she'd heard of the Killzone.
"Okay, I heard of that. When I was just starting out, I really wanted to fight there to test myself. Whip of course shut that idea down. Isn't it hard to find? Like, moves around from place to place? Do you know how to find it?"
She paces back and forth as she thinks about the best way to infiltrate the Killzone. "You know, I could probably go as a Daughter of the Tiger. I don't think it's common knowledge that I'm one of them.
"Bronwyn can come, sure. She may not want to, though. She's still trying to keep her secret identity safe, and the Triakosia know who she is."
Kaoru rubbed his temples. It had not been a great day. He could not for the life of him figure out why any modern day company wouldn't have at least semi-decent tech. Sure, old tech with a codebase written entirely in FORTRAN that no one wanted to touch less they break everything he had seen before. But this place didn't seem to even have that. Their website, if he could even call it that, seemed to have been written in the 90s and never updated. Which basically made it useless to him since it had no useful functionality he could exploit. So he had spent all day trying to find some back way in that as far as he could tell didn't exist. And he didn't mean "didn't exist" as in "was completely secure." He meant literally didn't exist. Which sure, some companies had internal networks that could only be accessed physically, but he was starting to think this place was so far in the Stone Age it might be relying on paper records and typewriters. Hell, maybe even that was too advanced for them and they needed good ol' quills and parchment.
So he already wasn't in the best of moods when an email from Wingblade popped up. It seemed to be some dossiers on some low life criminals. The implication was clear but infuriately vague. She wanted something with him, but apparently couldn't be bothered to actually tell him what. He briefly considered responding with a deluge of all of their grade school reports, class essays, videos of school recitals but it was honestly more work than he felt like going to just at the moment. Not that he hadn't gone to extreme lengths to prove a point, but he was already getting a headache. So instead he just sent back a simple, one sentence response. And then deleted it and tried again a few more times until he was satisfied it was appropriate enough.
"What are you hoping I'll do with this information?"
"It will take time to find out where it's being held this month, so I'll let you know when I've found out. I will probably have to investigate in areas I don't normally go to in the city..." Alexis frowns and crosses their arms. "But if the daughters work together, they could probably find out faster. I guess I should leave that to you then. I'm less sure about finding the parole officer Rodgers. I'm not very good at the official channels stuff."
Wingblade nods to Alexis and puts her phone to her ear. It rings a few times, then she speaks into it. "你好，余曉。 有一個地下戰鬥迴路叫做Killzone。 我們的工作聯繫人知道在哪裡會面嗎？ 不，我不參與其中。 我只需要一個邀請。 作為女兒。 好的謝謝。 給我回電話。"
She hangs up and looks at Alexis. "I'm going to try to score an invite to the Killzone. Which means I'll need to look the part. I've got the perfect qipao in mind," she says with a smile.
It fades as Wingblade turns her mind toward finding the retired PO. "We could probably pull some pension records for her address. Shouldn't be too hard. That, or an old co-worker will know where she lives. I can--" She's interrupted by her phone's chime, signaling Machina's message.
Wingblade checks it and frowns. "Whoops. Didn't give him the reason." She hits 'dial' and waits for either Kaoru to answer or his voicemail to pick up.
"Hey! Sorry for the info-dump, but this might be a puzzle you'll enjoy. There's someone killing old, semi-retired villains and we're trying to find the common link between the victims to hopefully find who else might be on the killer's list. So far, we've figured out that they all used to have the same parole officer, and they've worked with another villain called Deathmark. Mercy and I are chasing down those leads, but we might be missing something. Feel up to it?"
Sidney Lemmons, AKA Sideswipe. According to the records, he'd been a bagman for several heists, thanks to his power that let him glide across any unbroken surface at the top speeds of race cars. His parole started only two years ago, same officer. While there's no record of him working with Deathmark, Kaoru finds a paper trail linking to an account of his grandmother's with XPN Financials payments. Currently laying low, but there's enough circumstantial evidence here to point to him being a potential target.
"...what's a qipao?" Alexis asked Wingblade, a little confused. They shook their head - it wasn't that important of a detail. "But I should try and go with you...if I could change my face I would..." They look frustrated at not being able to go without recognition.
"A qipao is a Chinese-style dress. Like the kind I was wearing that got ruined when we first met," Shayera explains with no real animosity.
She tilts her head as she studies Alexis. "You could go completely masked up and in a new costume, but that may not be enough. We wouldn't want to act like we know each other, either. Otherwise, we may draw suspicion. But honestly, I'll be fine. If you want me to be extra-careful, I could have my sisters wear their masks, so I'll have access to their powers, too."
After a quick search, Kaoru sent Wingblade a text.
> Potential target: Sidney Lemmons/Sideswipe
> Going to talk to his grandmother.
> If I die, you're the one who has to break it to Xan.
He attached the address, looked up a few quick details about XPN Financials, and then got in his car and drove to the grandmother's house.
Before Alexis responds, Shayera's phone beeps. She glances at it, then types out a quick response with a shrug.
>Copy that
>Thanks. i mean it
XPN Financials is an enigma. It's most assuredly a shell company with an address in the Cayman Islands, and one that's make discrete payments to accounts all over Halcyon City and the country. Few names stand out, and following the money past XPN would take a concentrated effort on his part.
Ellen Lemmons, former nurse practitioner, had herself a small condo in a retirement village near the Hills, the more affluent section of Halcyon. As the car rolled up the street with cookie cutter buildings ending in a cul de sac, there's plenty of people over the retirement age glancing at the vehicle as it rolls through, some while they weed their gardens, others sitting on their riding mowers.
The condo Ellen Lemmons owns is yet another one, the same but for the fairy lawn ornaments that poke out of the flowerbeds and hang from wind chimes. There's a car parked on the sandy colored driveway, a white economy sedan with some black scuffs on the passenger side door.
What does Kaoru do?
Through the other Daughters, Wingblade will learn that the next Killzone is scheduled to take place that weekend. The location is secret until the hour it begins, when all of the invites will get a text from a burner with the address on it.
Getting an invite will require either one of two things: Being a person of interest willing to pay for the displayed skills of the program, or being someone who wants to display their prowess and put their talents up for auction.
Alexis, with a goal in mind, sets off to go and investigate Delilah Rodgers. "I'll figure something out for getting into the Killzone, too," They reassure Shayera before leaving her to her own plans.
What does Wingblade do?
Xiu Ying looked in the mirror at her heavily made-up face, caked with powders and paints drastically altering her appearance far beyond the lessons imparted by Tiffany. <This is a little extreme, don't you think?>
<It's traditional,> Yu Hiu replied as she stepped back to appraise her work. <If you're representing the Daughters of the Tiger, you must look the part. You may be attending with an ulterior motive, but you still should represent us appropriately.>
<If I'm going to be fighting, won't this makeup just get wrecked anyway?>
<It's not like we have any interest in hiring the fighters,>[b] Shu Zi muttered from the couch.
Yu Hiu just sighed and shook her head while she fussed with Xiu Ying's hair. [b]<You should grow this out more. I can't put it in a proper style.>
<Nature of the business. It's always getting scorched, blasted, chewed on... I'm lucky it grows so fast. And then there's the fact that my wings give me free hair cuts whenever I take flight.>
Yu giggled and did what she could, using hair spray to tease out additional volume. While she worked on that, Yin Ying stepped into view in the mirror. <Xiu Ying, while you're there at the Killzone... do what you can not to piss off all of our potential clients, okay?>
Xiu twisted around in her chair to look at Yin directly. <Huh? What potential clients?>
<When we all have wings, it's going to be hard enough to get clients since we'll all look like Wingblade. If you start knocking a bunch of heads outside the ring at a place designed to showcase our skills, then no one will hire us. Unless you want to go back to China?>
We could all be heroes, Xiu Ying thought, but didn't voice it. <All right. I'll keep that in mind.>
She finished, putting the final touches on her red lips -- the same vibrant red of her dress. She slid her mask into a clutch bag and took a phone handed to her from Shu Zi. <The address will be coming soon on that phone. Head down to the street. There's a driver waiting for you.>
Xiu Ying nodded in thanks to her sisters then left their apartment on foot, relying on her pendant to keep her wings hidden from view. Spotting the nondescript black sedan hired by the Daughters, she sat in the back seat and watched her phone for the address to appear.