Chaotic Clusterfuck 6 (Patreon)

A/N: I promise this is not another consecutive, ginger-fucking smut chapter.

Commissioned by Definitely Not Dio

Chaotic Clusterfuck

Chapter 6: interlude

-VB-

Armsmaster looked slowly and methodically around the street where the battle between Empire Eighty-Eight and a new cape team had taken place.

The cape team in question had registered as independents merely hours before they walked down to this street, a known E88 hotspot, and fought the racists and their capes. The end result?

The internet, General Court, and nation was on fire over what they were calling the “9th Street Massacre” that left over fifty people dead in the street, including a number of capes.

And most controversially was the line of heads of all of the capes that the team of four “heroes” had killed with their masks removed: Samuel O’Donnell (minion), Wendy Johnson (minion), Anthony Entterrjiik (minion), Melody Jurist (Cricket), Tom Renalts (Stormtiger), and Brad Meadows (Hookwolf).

This blatant disregard for the Unwritten Rules along with three of the senior Medhall employees revealed to have been member of the E88 was part of the reason why the world seemed to be on fire. Medhall and its CEO Max Anders was on fire with people, many of whom were not in Brockton Bay or E88 hotspots, bolstered by the show to blatantly compare the E88 twin capes (Fenja and Menja) with the twins (Nessa nad Jessica Biermann) who worked for Max Anders. This, of course, was starting to cause a cascade effect where people were now accusing Max of being Kaiser along with re-released reports of suspicious encounters Medhall’s regional rivals have had with E88 gangsters in the last decade.

The PRT knew that Max was Kaiser, of course, but they hadn’t acted so far because of the deleterious effect it would have on the local and regional cape scene as well as the hit the economy would take from being shown that one of the businesses with the highest number of local employees being a criminal gang’s front. Or the other way around.

Worse, the team that had caused this entire crisis had disappeared, leaving the PRT and the Protectorate ENE and Boston to hold the bag as the E88 began to march to war but with none of their targets to be found, and thus turning upon the rest of the city in their rampage.

“Armsmaster, did you find any clues we need to track them?” Miss Militia asked through the comm.

“No,” he replied tensely.

The source of the problem was this new team of four, whose synergy suggested that they were not new to the scene.

The one stood out the least - but did the most killing - was “Black Sebastian.” It was obvious from the CCTV and phone videos that he was a fighter-class Gamer, one of the most ubiquitous but also one of the most powerful combat classes available to Gamer type parahumans. Fighters were a balance of well-rounded defense and offense that, unless one had either extreme offensive or defensive capability, made them something that could not be ignored. And, as Cricket learned, not a class that staggers to anything that wasn’t heavy and Cricket was never a heavy hitter.

The one that stood out the most to Armsmaster was Seekowl, a Mage-class Gamer whose long range attacks were not par to their average class’s attacks. Mages were priority recruits because when it came to firepowers, there were few other classes with their firepower and numbers in the wild. But why would they be on this team of four with lacking firepower? It was this discrepancy that made Seekowl unique in Armsmaster’s eyes and that of his analysis VIs.

But in the eyes of the public, it was Alric, the heavy plate armored man, who stood out the most because he molded his environment like few others could. In fact, he invoked the same kind of image that Kaiser involved in his armor but unlike Kaiser who stood like a king and projected killing fields of steel, Alric moved like lightning with his heavy armor and struck with attacks that could and would fatally kill in some of the flashiest ways possible. For example, the internet was rife with videos of Alric modifying his metal plate gauntlets to form blades that he used to surprise his enemies, including Stormtiger. In the attack that killed him, Stormtiger thought he dodged a punch to his face but instead got his neck sliced open when a blade sprouted out of Alric’s gauntlets with just enough length to carve into Stormtiger’s right carotid artery. That was a calculated move on Alric’s part. Armsmaster would need to take him out as quickly as possible if they engaged.

And the last was Terapin, a Dauntless copycat who fought more like Assault. He was a juggernaut that took hits and lashed out with impuny. He fought Hookwolf directly and gave the others enough time to kill the rest before they boxed Hookwolf in and helped Terapin finish the cape who had tried to run after his two teammates died. Terapin, even though he tussled in melee with Hookwolf, came out with nary a scratch on his skin or armor. Armsmaster wasn’t sure about how he would deal with Terapin. It was obvious that the man could fight and tank, but what were the man’s limits? Until he determined that, fighting Terapin in melee was to be avoided.

“What is the director’s decision on this matter?” he asked, and Dragon, his near ever present ally from Canada, spoke up through his comms.

“Director Piggot decided to label the four as villains and are to be arrested as soon as possible.”

Armsmaster grunted.

He’ll just have to wait for them to reveal themselves and show off their abilities more, because as it was right now, he was not going to be able to win against those four unless he had most of the Protectorate ENE to fight them.

-VB-

Melanie Fitts, while in her cape outfit as Faultline, stared across the table at the businessman who has been rising up in the New England business world as a capable talent seeker and prospector.

If she was going to be honest, then she didn’t why she was meeting with the man.

“Mr. Marris, I find your proposal to be … intriguing,” she replied as she looked over the business proposal and offer to hire her team sat before her. “In fact, I am surprised that you came to me despite knowing my rules.”

During the initial course of their talk, Mr. Marris acknowledged her position in the city and even quoted a few words that she’s thrown at some of the less pleasant members of the city.

“You were the most trustworthy of all operatives in the bay,” he replied with a knowing grin.

She hummed. Her team was indeed the most trustworthy and competent cape team in the city with a mission success rate that made most others turn away while blushing in shame. She could even call her team elite mercenaries.

The problem was her unofficial policy of not taking any jobs within Brockton Bay.

And that was also why she was impressed by what he was offering. The job was a simple security mission, renewable every month from her end, and it was outside Brockton Bay, technically, but within the Greater Brockton Bay Metropolitan Area. In fact, the job was to guard four warehouses just outside of Brockton Bay city limit in the neighboring town of Greenland, New Hampshire. It was outside Brockton Bay, very close to where Palanquin was, and the pay was generous.

On the contract, the pay rate was written out pretty openly.

$500 per day, up to $5,000 covered in healthcare, additional $1,500 per parahuman threat repelled, and additional $10,000 per monthly renewal of the contract.

Even if she failed to get anything out of the healthcare cover and didn’t end up fighting any parahuman, that was $25,500 per month just to keep a watch out for the warehouses, which the contract would give them security camera access.

“What’s in those warehouses that you’re willing to eat this big of an expense…?” she asked. “Because I don’t think I can accept a contract this generous without knowing what I and my team will be guarding.”

He smiled before he slid a manilla folder over to her. Curious, she broke the seal and pulled out the papers within.

The title of the first paper alone made her eyebrows rise up. The summary left her shocked at the man’s fortunes and balls. The title of the second paper left her wanting more time, mostly to confer with her team.

If even half of the contents on these papers were true, she was possibly looking at the one of the richest person in all of New England who was looking to become the richest with control over at least one crucial industry within the city. Having an inroad with that kind of soft power would be powerful in its own right, never mind the potential help she might get if she and her team ever ran head first into the law.

“I want to talk to my team first.”

He nodded and took back the papers, and left only the contracts. “I’ll be back in a week, Ms. Faultline. I hope we’ll become good business partners by then.”