Dragons, Decay, and Too Many Legs 11 - Interlude (Patreon)

Kaiser stared down at the report on his desk. Much as he’d like to use his power to shred it to fertilizer, financial reports for Medhall were too important for such childish displays. But, even as he went through the day to day business of running the single largest employer in the city, his mind was focused on the problems facing his true Empire.

When the Worm gained a new cape he’d paid it little mind. From early reports while their power had potential, they seemed to squander it in favor of martial arts. While mastery of one’s self by turning the body into a weapon was an admirable goal, when one possessed the ability to turn into any beast from the animal kingdom it paled in comparison.

Then came reports of more esoteric abilities. Culminating in the fight with Alabaster where he used some Striker ability that seemed to resist his resetting power. Followed by animating the corpses of his fallen soldiers. More than that, their spies in the ABB reported that the deluge of Brutes padding the chinks’ ranks were all because of that same cape.

Clearly, this Ophioc was akin to Eidolon. But why he put so much pageantry on when empowering the mere mortals within his faction’s ranks was a mystery. Especially when photographs of such an empowerment showed more resemblance to Victorian era occultism rather than the traditions of the chinks’ homelands.

Finishing with the day’s business, Kaiser made his way to his other throne, his true throne. It was a ten minute trip by car, but he wasn’t staying there long. Merely to retrieve some files that had been compiled. Everything they had on the newest members of the ABB, from Ophioc to this “Brute Squad” of theirs.

Once he had that, he dismissed Fenja and Menja. His next destination he’d need to handle on his own. He’d allowed his wife’s spat of rebellion, but circumstances had changed. It was high time she returned to the fold. So he drove to her apartment, alone, folder in hand.

Ringing her doorbell, he waited for her to open the door and when she did said, “Hello, my dear. How’s our daughter?”

“What do you want, Max?” she spat, ignoring his question and glaring through the door gap.

“I bring information,” he said as he handed her the folder. “I am sure you have noticed the rise in competition. I believe it is time for you to come back to the company, your assistance has been missed.”

She took the folder and flipped through it, before looking up to glare at him again before shutting the door in his face. He’d punish her for that later, once she broke and came crawling back. For now, he’d let her stew.

Sure enough, three days later, her number came up on the Caller ID of his phone. Picking it up, he didn’t bother to hide the satisfaction from his voice as he spoke, “Max Anders speaking.”

“You win, you son of a bitch.”

[hr][/hr]

The familiar ringtone pulled Amy Dallon from sleep, a glance at the clock showing it was just after midnight. Groaning in frustration, she fumbled over to her desk where her phone was charging and looked at the caller ID.

“Vicky, I fell asleep half an hour ago. Where the fuck are you and how many people did you hurt?” Amy growled, too tired to feel anything but pissed at her sister.

“She’s in the alley between 7th Ave Bakery and the closed gardening supply store,” an amused male voice answered, shocking Amy fully awake. “And being perfectly honest, she’s in more need of medical treatment than we are. Would you be a dear and come pick her up? Oh, and, she’s going to need a change of clothes. We’ll be keeping her current outfit as a reminder for her to not go out looking for a fight at such obscene hours.

“If you’d like, I’m willing to have a car sent to pick you up, rather than have you walk all the way here from your safe, picket fence home in Downtown.”

“So you can kidnap me? Fat chance. If there’s even a hair out of place on her I’ll give you all the cancer,” Amy snarled before hanging up and heading to Vicky’s room.

Amy had warned her sister that these late night patrols were going to get her in trouble, but this was not what she’d had in mind! After grabbing a change of clothes, Amy headed out the door and started making her way towards the address she’d been given. It was just a few minutes into the walk that Amy wondered if she should have accepted the offer for a car.

She knew where the location was, but hadn’t considered how long walking would take. Common issue with the modern person: thinking of travel times as how long it would take in a car, not by foot. So instead of arriving at the alley with her sister in just a few minutes, Amy was greeted by the sight of Vicky completely naked after an hour and a half.

“I’ll be honest, I was expecting you to call and say you’d changed your mind about the car ride. I got bored,” the green clad form of the ABB’s newest cape said from where he was using the perfectly still Vicky as a chair.

Amy didn’t respond. Not just because she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but also because of the way Vicky was positioned. The beautiful blonde girl was on her knees, with her forearms flat against the ground. But her butt, as well as her perfect pussy, were both facing Amy, letting the healer see what she’d been imagining for years.

“Oi, Panpan,” the villain’s voice snapped her out of her dazed staring to glare at him. “Stop admiring the goods, I’m not done monologuing.”

“Did you really just say that?” slipped out of Amy’s mouth.

“What’s the point of being a villain if you can’t have some fun with it? Anyway, where was I? Right,” the villain stood up and cleared his throat. “I’m hoping that this time, the lesson will get through your sister’s thick skull. This is strike two. Strike three, and I won’t limit myself to posing her. Do please remind her of this. Or don’t. Makes no difference to me.”

As the villain stepped aside, Amy raced forwards, both to check on Vicky, but also reaching out to the exposed skin of his arm. If she could make skin contact, she could…

The villain disappeared into the shadows on the wall of the bakery, but Amy’s fingers had brushed his skin and a burst of information flooded her brain. The realization of what her power was telling her made Amy stand there in shocked disbelief, until a pair of hands yanked the bundle of clothes out from under her arm.

“Took you long enough, Ames!” Vicky snapped as she pulled the shirt over her head.

“Dammit, Vicky,” Amy growled as she turned around to look at her sister who was hurriedly pulling on the sweat pants and keeping her hair in front of her face. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, not like last time. I got some scrapes from when he popped my barrier and I was hovering, but he just used that paralysis power and then took my costume before calling you. Seriously, what took you so long?”

“I wasn’t taking a car provided by a villain, and in case you’ve forgotten, I can’t fly. Now if he didn’t hurt you, why…”

Amy paused as she finally got a look at Vicky’s face. She stared, incomprehensive, before an amused snort slipped out of her. The villain had entertained himself with drawing on Vicky’s face, and while Amy wanted to be offended, the morbid and dirty sense of humor working at a hospital had cultivated meant that making Vicky’s nose look like a penis and her eyes look like the testicles was too funny to ignore.

“Yeah, yeah, this is why I didn’t want you to see. Now can we go home? I have a date with Dean tomorrow and it’s going to take forever to wash this crap off,” Vicky groused, trying to pretend there wasn’t an embarrassed blush on her face.

As Vicky flew the two of them home, Amy did her best to ignore the confusing cocktail that were her sister’s hormones by trying to figure out just what her power had shown her about Ophioc’s biology. More specifically the fact that he wasn’t human.

[hr][/hr]

Two days later, Amy was at the Rig alongside her Aunt Sarah meeting with Armsmaster and the rest of the Protectorate. She’d passed on that she had information about Ophioc and as a result, was asked to come to the meeting of the Protectorate where he was going to be going over the new information about the ABB. In addition to her and her aunt from New Wave, there was the entirety of the local Protectorate, the Wards, as well as eight cowls she vaguely recognized.

“This meeting is brought to order. The focus is going to be on the surge of capes that have joined the ABB,” Armsmaster spoke, ending all the quiet, side conversations. “First, Panacea reports she managed to touch Ophioc’s skin and as such received full knowledge of his physiology. Panacea?”

Taking a deep breath, Amy stood up and said what she’d been mentally reciting and going over in her head ever since she touched him, “For starters, I think I know the origin of Ophioc’s cape name: the fungus Ophiocordyceps unilateralis.”

“Why’s a ninja named for a mushroom?” one of the cowls asked.

“It’s more commonly called the zombie-ant fungus. Ophioc doesn’t have a nervous system, he has a fungal mass that fulfills the same role, and he notably lacks anything that seems equivalent for the Coronna Polentia or Gemma. More than that, his meat body is… it’s mostly human, but there’s traces of what look like some other kind of DNA seamlessly interwoven into it. I’ve seen the DNA of biotinker creations and Case 53s, and he’s not either of them, his body works too well. I… I don’t know what he is, but it isn’t human.”

“If I may…” Clockblocker held his hand up. When Armsmaster nodded towards him, he stood up as Amy sat down. “Something that’s been bugging me about Ophioc. We’ve seen his transform into animals, run at near highway speeds, induce crippling pain in those who fight him, call down lightning from the sky, and do a whole host of other things that don’t seem internally consistent and are far too broad to be a grab bag cape, plus we haven’t seen anyone with similar powers.

“Maybe this is grasping at straws, or I’ve been reading too much of Void Cowboy on PHO, but doesn’t Ophioc seem less like a cape and more like something from a fantasy game?”

“You’ve been reading too much Void Cowboy,” Vista said with some annoyance, “He’s clearly a Trump in the same vein as Eidolon.”

“As well as Teacher,” Armsmaster interjected as Clockblocker sat down. “In the last three weeks, the ABB have gained a number of recruits that all show the same Brute power. In addition to enhanced strength, they appear to be unaffected by pain and possess quite impressive regenerative capabilities.”

“How many Brutes are we talking?” one of the cowls asked.

“As of our latest information? Nearly twenty.”

The meeting room was silent, before a cowl dropped her head onto the table with a groan, “Well stick me in a pleated skirt, fuck me sideways, and call me a cheerleader. The ABB were fucked up enough with just Lung and Oni Lee, now you’re telling me they’ve got more Brutes than kissing cousins at an Oklahoma family reunion?”

“Oilslick’s… colorful comparisons aside,” Miss Militia diplomatically said, “do we have a plan to deal with the surge of capes in the ABB’s roster?”

Armsmaster sighed, his entire frame screaming tired resignation, “I sent a request for backup once it became clear that someone was creating new Brutes, but, as has been the case no matter how bad the city gets, my request was denied.”

Another cowl snorted in derision, “So the higher ups in their comfy office chairs in a big multimillion dollar office can’t be bothered to send some help down our way? What else is new?”

The meeting went on for some time, detailing procedures and tactics if they found themselves facing down the newly expanded ABB roster. It basically boiled down to ‘call for backup or run away’.