Earning Her Stripes Pt 25 (Patreon)

Fame and Notoriety

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by @Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

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♦ Topic: The Real Thing Just Got Real

In: Boards ► News ► Events ► America ► Brockton Bay

Bagrat (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)

Posted On Sep 17th 2010:

Hey, y'all.

If you, like me, have been following the news on the cape scene from Brockton Bay recently, you probably would've heard about this new group calling themselves the Real Thing (actually, can anyone help me out? Is the 'the' supposed to be capitalized, or left as lower case? It's just that I've seen both.)

It's common knowledge that new cape teams start up all the time. Statistics show that about 75% of them fold in the first six months due to: irreconcilable differences, creepy crushes, one or more members turning villain (I shit you not, I've seen that happen on at least two occasions), someone getting pregnant, someone being transferred out of town, incompatible work schedules, members being recruited into bigger teams, members joining the Protectorate or Wards, members being arrested by the PRT, accidentally outing themselves on live TV, the team screwing up and being sued, a key member being injured or killed, or bringing on a new member who totally dismantles the team dynamic (take your pick). And don't even get me started about obsessed villainous stalkers.

Suffice to say, if you don't have powers out there and you think your life is hectic, imagine it with a whole other level of chaos introduced by having the ability to generate rocket flight via extreme amounts of flatulence, or some other shade of weirdness. Then imagine four or five people, each of whom has their own personal brand of fuck-my-life looming over them, trying to make it all work as a team.

Let's just say, I have nothing but respect for the ones who do make it work, and even more admiration for the ones who have one (or more) of the above things happen and *still* manage to make it work. I mean, it's true that New Wave rode out the whole 'Panacea healing for money' thing pretty smoothly, but it could've gone a lot worse.

But anyway, we were talking about the Real Thing.

They first hit the news with a membership consisting of Shadow Stalker (Breaker/Stranger/Mover edgelord with crossbows), Firebird (extremely athletic combat Thinker with bouncy throwing discs) and Blockade (Tinker with the apparent specialization "Bulky and tough". He apparently makes and uses a nigh-unbreakable metal called--get this--'good steel'.)

For their first outing, they engaged and took down the Merchants, a sort-of gang of drug-dealing capes and other misfits who only hold (or rather, held) the territory nobody else wanted. They managed this without getting hurt or seriously hurting any of the Merchants, which brought them to the attention of the PRT.

The next time they really got the PRT's attention was when Shadow Stalker (who was reportedly never too stable at the best of times) went nuts and tried to murder a random civilian, literally invading his home in the middle of the night. Firebird and Blockade saved him and chased her off, possibly with the assistance of a new cape called Monochrome (details are sketchy). The next time they clashed with Shadow Stalker, she was successfully captured. Monochrome appears to have since taken over leadership of the group.

Despite its tumultuous beginning, this new incarnation of the Real Thing absolutely seems to be THE Real Thing. Just this afternoon, in an encounter that was as swift as it was brutal, the Real Thing intervened in an ABB vs Empire 88 free for all. Teamwork makes the dream work, and they showed that in spades. Blockade smashed Lung into the dirt, then beat on Hookwolf like Hooky owed him money. Monochrome KO'd Fenja and Menja, then choked Lung into unconsciousness. And Firebird took Crusader and Rune out of the fight, then went toe-to-toe with Oni Lee and handily defeated him.

There's no footage of the Firebird/Oni Lee bout, but the official PRT release of the Lung and Hookwolf takedowns can be found [here]. Be aware: there are NO punches pulled. None.

So what's next for our up and coming team? With a showing like that, the PRT and Protectorate have *got* to be trying to figure out how to recruit them into the Wards (for Monochrome and Firebird) and the Protectorate (for Blockade). Firebird and Blockade have made their mark in no uncertain terms, and Monochrome kinda pulled off the impossible when she choked out Lung, just saying.

I will absolutely be watching their respective careers with interest.

(Showing page 1 of 73)

►74Hyper

Replied On Sep 17th 2010:

Looks like Lung and Hookwolf fucked around and found out.

►ChaosGhost

Replied On Sep 17th 2010:

*contented sigh* It's far more cathartic than I'd expected to see Lung getting his ass beat by a twig of a girl.

►RobertTheBarbarian

Replied On Sep 17th 2010:

After seeing this 'good steel' in action, I'm not actually going to argue with the name.

►OakRidgeEnergyGuy

Replied On Sep 17th 2010:

Well. *That* happened.

Curbstomp song, anyone?

►AuthorialInterjection

Replied On Sep 17th 2010:

@ChaosGhost - From the visible shockwaves on that footage, I think Lung might dispute the 'twig of a girl' comment. Just saying.

►BurningSpikyBush

Replied On Sep 17th 2010:

There's three of them, and they're pretty damn effective. Next gen Triumvirate, maybe?

►OminousKitten

Replied On Sep 17th 2010:

@ChaosGhost - For me it was Hookwolf getting ragdolled by Blockade. I will buy that guy a drink any day of the week.

►RabidVader

Replied On Sep 17th 2010:

This is both good and bad. Good because they have curtailed both the Empire and the ABB but now the ABB is capeless and the Empire will definitely take advantage of the situation and will also be gunning for The Real Thing as payback for loosing four (or five? couldn't tell) capes.

►BrickFrog

Replied On Sep 17th 2010:

So, did nobody else notice the way they glossed over how Shadow Stalker just 'went nuts' and attacked a civilian? I mean, she's always been a bit rough around the edges, but theres a long step between tthat and attacking some rando in his house. So Im thinking theres more to this story.

Also, I heard a rumor online that the Real Thing are the ones who totaled Winslow. Is anyone even looking into that?

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 71, 72, 73

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<><>

Tattletale

Lisa sighed and leaned back from the laptop. With a groan, she closed her eyes and rubbed her thumb and forefinger over them. She didn't have a huge baseline to work with regarding the Real Thing, but her power seemed to think that both of BrickFrog's allegations had merit. Which was hilariously ironic, because she was also sure that the guy was just being a concern troll.

A meme she'd read awhile ago popped up in her mind.

Remember, before the internet, how people thought the cause of stupidity was not having access to information?

Yeah. It wasn't that.

The meme was all too accurate. Idiots with access to the internet were still idiots. They just had the opportunity to spread their stupidity around. Lisa didn't know if any members of the Real Thing were computer experts, though if anyone was, the combat Thinker and the Tinker were the two best bets.

However, she was reasonably certain that if anyone started harassing them online (because idiots did that sort of thing, especially to new heroes who'd just pulled off major coups) they might just end up regretting it. She was also quite aware of the reasoning behind the PRT's current softly-softly attitude toward the villains of Brockton Bay. So long as everyone played by the rules (mainly unwritten) and pretended it was a big game of cops and robbers, Director Piggot wouldn't have to bring out the heavy artillery.

The last time the Empire had gone too far and she'd had to put her foot down, Purity, Night and Fog had been caught up in the sweep when the Triumvirate came to town (this had been just after Legend stepped down from active membership with the original Protectorate). Since then, everyone had kept their heads down and played nice … for the most part.

However, tensions had been bubbling under the surface, as evidenced by Lung's push following the capture of Cricket and Stormtiger by the Real Thing, and the daytime battle royale between the ABB and the Empire when the latter pushed back. While the loss of four more capes would hurt the Empire badly, the ABB had been totally cleaned out of cape leadership, leaving it in an extremely precarious position.

Lisa was pretty sure she had the world's smallest violin around somewhere, if she ever felt the need to play "Cry Me a River" on it.

None of this made her any more likely to take up Coil's job offer. The fact that the Undersiders stood little chance of actually defeating the Real Thing in a toe-to-toe brawl was immaterial: they didn't do fights like that if they could help it. Sneaking out the back door ten minutes before the heroes kicked in the front door, that was more their style.

Brian was good, but he wasn't as good as Firebird's power allowed her to be. Lisa mentally dubbed the redhead's fighting style 'Hollywood Martial Arts' and left it at that. The only member of the Undersiders who had a reasonable chance of standing up to any of the Real Thing was Alec, and that was only because he could manipulate their nervous systems (not that he'd last long with all three of them on his case). He certainly wouldn't retain his sceptre more than two seconds after Firebird decided it was dangerous; her mastery of those thrown discs was the best Lisa had ever seen for someone who wasn't using powers to guide them.

Long story short, if the Real Thing ever set their sights on the Undersiders, there was only one possible outcome, and it wouldn't be the Undersiders walking free. However, Lisa figured that they had a potential way out. So far, the Real Thing had targeted groups (she wouldn't go so far as to call the Merchants an actual gang) that preyed on innocent civilians. The Merchants, the Empire Eighty-Eight and the ABB had all hurt people in one way or another. Protection money, drugs, car theft and so on.

In direct contrast, the Undersiders had never even considered dealing drugs. (Well, Alec had suggested it once, but she was pretty sure he was joking). Their strengths lay in smash-and-grab robberies, and daring escapes from the heroes. They were almost popular, as villains went, to the point that there was an (unofficial) fan website about them.

All of which meant that if they kept their heads down and played their cards right, there was no reason for the Real Thing to come down on them like Blockade had come down on Lung. In any case, Lisa fully expected Director Piggot to call the Real Thing in at some point, to explain the facts of life in Brockton Bay. If that meant the Undersiders had to hold off operations for a week or two, Lisa was perfectly willing to sit back and do nothing for that time. Brian would probably appreciate the chance to spent quality time with Aisha (when he wasn't working out; that boy redefined 'gym rat'), Rachel would care for her dogs, and Alec … would probably play his console games and snark at his fans on the website.

The hidden upside of the advent of the Real Thing, she mused, was that the asshole villains were drawing fire and being cleared out. She had no doubt that Kaiser would take offence at being deprived of four more of his capes, but there were few real powerhouses among the ones he had left. If he was smart, he'd hold back, consolidate and make plans.

His two big strengths were his charisma and the fact that there were always more racist asshole capes out there. Most of the members of the Empire Eighty-Eight had been invited to Brockton Bay from outside; some stayed, some were captured, and some left again after finding out how much of a controlling asshole he was in person. But the pool of potential recruits was deep; just a little patience would allow him to rebuild his forces and pose more of a deterrent to the Real Thing.

It was honestly the smart thing to do, but Lisa had her doubts.

<><>

Kaiser

Max Anders held the heavy lead-crystal glass in a white-knuckled grip. Had it been any more fragile, it would've splintered within his grasp. His red-rimmed eyes stared at the other five capes in the room. "What do you mean, we can't break them out?"

Victor fielded that one. "We're lacking the inside men. The last time we broke Hookwolf out of a transport, the PRT went through their own ranks with a fine-tooth comb. I'm not sure if they brought in Thinkers from out of town or if Armsmaster built something, but either way they blew the cover clear off every one of our moles. We're blind in there. Our only consolation is that they got the ABB moles as well, so Lung's going to the Birdcage for good."

"And so is Hookwolf," Kaiser gritted. "It used to be a point of pride that we'd never let him go to the Birdcage. But because of two teenage girls and whoever Blockade is inside that damn suit, we've lost half our number for the duration, and one of our best is going away for good."

"I still think you should've sent me in," Alabaster interjected. "I could've taken Firebird, easy."

Victor shook his head. "No, you couldn't. I tried pulling her skills, but they didn't go down. It was like she was re-learning them instantly. And they were perfect. The best possible application of strength and leverage for her height and weight. No hesitation, no tells, no holes in her style, perfect timing. The way she bounced that disc in through Rune's debris field—"

"That was just pure bullshit!" Rune had a cold compress held to the back of her head, where the disc had bounced off after knocking Crusader cold. She'd been dazed, but had retained just enough of her faculties to get the piece of sidewalk to the ground and stagger off. "I can't believe that bitch caught it again!"

"As I said," Victor explained imperturbably. "Perfect skills. Firebird has the capabilities of someone who's spent a lifetime learning every possible martial art and acrobatic skill to perfection, in the body of someone who's just coming into their physical prime. She's only going to get better at it. Beating her skills in hand to hand is simply impossible."

"So fuckin' what?" Alabaster possibly rolled his eyes, though with his physiology, it was hard to tell. "She punches me or kicks me, I get straight back up. She'll get tired. I won't."

"It takes you four point three seconds to reset." Victor raised his eyebrows. "She will have that timing down pat in the first fifteen seconds, and she'll have a strategy to beat you in the first thirty. If, for instance, she punches your brain out through the other side of your skull just after you reset, I cannot guarantee your survival."

This was going nowhere. Max waved his glass irritably. "Yes, we get it. She's very good. What about the other two?" Taking up the bottle of bourbon, he poured himself some and took a sip.

Victor shrugged. "Blockade's tech is extremely durable. The first time he encountered Hookwolf and Stormtiger, he fought them both at the same time, beat Stormtiger, and Hookwolf retreated in disorder. He was apparently irritated at Hookwolf being a 'pussy little coward', as he told the PRT troopers who showed up, and he was determined to not let him get away again. Thus, the beating."

Alabaster sneered. "Every battlesuit's got a weak point. The tougher they look, the faster they come apart when you stick a screwdriver in the right spot, and twist."

"Hookwolf has fought people in power armour before," Victor replied patiently. "He knows how to go up against battlesuits. He said that nothing he tried the first time worked, and that was with Stormtiger running interference. Even the things that look like weak points—those hoses on the arms and legs—just shoot out steam but don't slow it down."

"And we know it can fly and packs a punch, yes." Max took another sip. "And Monochrome?"

Victor hesitated for a moment. "We actually know the least about her. All I can really nail down is that she's an Alexandria-scale Brute, at least for strength and possibly for durability as well. Nobody else can hit that hard, or get that close to Lung while he's still on fire. I strongly suggest that nobody here gets within arm's reach of her."

Max nodded. He agreed with the analysis: as satisfying as it had been to see Lung get choked out by someone Rune's age, the sheer strength required to compress that tree-trunk neck with absolutely zero available leverage was more than slightly chilling. "Ways to take her down?"

"No idea." Victor shrugged. "She had to have been inhaling superheated air, that close to Lung, so I doubt gas is going to do much to her." He gave Alabaster a severe look. "And no, you can't take her either. That girl could crush your skull like a grape by accident."

Krieg stirred for the first time. "So, what is our strategy to be? Hold back and allow the heat to die down, then move into ABB turf? Attempt to break out Hookwolf and the others before they are transported out of town? Punitive strike on the Real Thing? Build our numbers up again by recruiting from out of town?"

"I'm not comfortable with a punitive strike," Othala said. "The only one of the three we're likely to be able to hurt is Firebird, and then we'd have Blockade and Monochrome gunning for us, and I personally don't want to be the target of someone who could slap Hookwolf around like a street bum or squeeze Lung's neck until his eyes pop out."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Alabaster growled. "They put one of ours in the Birdcage, we put one of theirs in the hospital. It sends a message. Don't fuck with the Empire."

Victor was already shaking his head. "A month ago, we could've sent that message with a reasonable level of impunity. Right now, we're down to six capes. That's nowhere near enough muscle to make it stick."

"We're down to six capes because of them!" Alabaster shouted. "A month ago, we didn't need to send the message!"

Max finished the glass then put it down. He clapped his hands once, drawing the attention of both Victor and Alabaster. "I agree with both of you."

Both capes stared at him, along with the rest of the depleted Empire Eighty-Eight. Victor was the first to find his voice. "… what?"

"The Real Thing, no matter what else they've done, are a clear and present danger to the Empire Eighty-Eight," Max decreed. "Taking down everyone they have may have been more a matter of opportunity than design, but there's nothing to stop them from setting their sights on the rest of us, here in this room. Does anyone disagree?"

He knew that people found it easier to say 'yes' than 'no', especially to an authority figure, so it wasn't much of a surprise when they all stayed quiet. After a moment, Rune put her hand up as though she were in class. "This is starting to sound like you wanna go after them."

As Victor began to open his mouth—both to agree and to object, most likely—Max nodded. "Very perceptive. We need to do that. But we must be smart about it. A head-to-head challenge? Not smart. Forewarned, any of them could beat any of us in a straight fight, or at least avoid us and bring in a heavier hitter."

Krieg frowned. "I'm not sure where you're going with this. You wish to challenge them without challenging them?"

"No." Max shook his head. "We don't attack them directly. We find out who they are. We find out their secrets. And we neutralise them that way."

Othala's expression was extremely dubious. "Are you saying 'neutralise' as in murdering them out of costume, or as in using the information to blackmail them into standing down?"

Max knew where she was coming from. Years before, a teenage prospect had murdered Fleur of New Wave, then spent a few years in the juvenile system before being released at eighteen and joining the Empire Eighty-Eight. Some had apparently expected him to condemn the little punk for attacking her out of costume, but Fleur had revealed her own identity to the world; what had she honestly expected would happen?

"That depends on what kind of information we find," he decided. "If it lends itself more toward directing their attention away from us, then of course we'll do that." It wasn't nearly as cut and dry as he made it sound; should the opportunity arise to dispose of one or more of the irritating heroes, then he would probably take it. "But if things go the other way … we'll do what we need to, in order to protect the Empire. Am I making myself clear?" For her sake, she needed to understand. He wasn't about to let anyone—cape or otherwise, hero or otherwise—stand in the way of saving his team.

Victor took her hand and murmured to her. She nodded; reluctantly, if he was any kind of judge. But now he had her agreement, which was good enough for the moment.

"I'm guessing you'll be wanting me to tail them," Victor said to Max. It wasn't exactly a brilliant deduction.

Max nodded. "We're going to be slowing down activities until I can bring more people in, but in the meantime it won't hurt to let them think they're winning. So when we locate them out and about, you move in and see what information you can gather."

Victor nodded. "Got it."

Max leaned back in his chair, reaching for the bottle once more. It was time for another drink; this time, a celebratory one. The Empire had fallen on hard times, but they'd pull through. As always.

<><>

Monday morning, September 20, 2010

Taylor

I wasn't used to the bus line that took me to Arcadia, but it was far better than the Winslow line, wholly and solely because it didn't go to Winslow. The paperwork to get the Winslow students shuffled into other schools had gone through in its usual timely fashion (that is, not) but I'd gotten my application approved faster than most. So had Emma and Madison, which was good; this way, I got to keep an eye on them in school as well as out.

Not that I actually expected them to backslide at this point. Both of them had impressed me with their dedication in undoing all the crap they'd ever pulled on me at Winslow (and occasionally outside it). But I'd said that I was going to keep an eye on them, so that was what I was going to do.

"So, have you seen the PHO boards since the Lung and Hookwolf takedown?" asked Madison, who was wearing jeans, a sensible top and blue jacket instead of the cutesy sleeveless blouse and short denim skirt she'd affected at Winslow. She'd even had her hair cut relatively short, possibly because droplets of molten metal weren't kind to long hair.

While she no longer radiated the level of cuteness that had once made everyone want to pick her up and squeeze her, I appreciated her new air of dependability. People still wouldn't suspect her of being Blockade, but I suspected she'd be taken a lot more seriously than she had been before.

Emma grinned, and I could tell that (like me) she'd noted Madison's choice of words. There was nothing there to make anyone suspect us in the matter. "Hell, yeah," she agreed. "That whole thread is insane. People love the Real Thing, alright." She paused for a moment in thought. "Well, they'll be loved until they put a foot wrong. People also love dumping on a disgraced hero."

Like Madison, she was less flamboyant than she had been before. She hadn't gone so far as to get her hair cut, but gone were the upmarket blouses and notice-me jewellery. Her jacket and top were just loose enough to hide her newfound ripped status, and her jeans would allow her to put her foot above her head without noticeable effort. I knew this because I'd seen her do it. She was less vain these days and more centred, with an air of quiet competence.

I leaned back in my seat. Arcadia was visible out the window now; we'd be disembarking from the bus in the next few minutes, and it was unlikely that we'd get much chance to speak freely until lunchtime. "Well, then," I said. "They'd probably better make sure they don't then."

Emma and Madison met my gaze, and nodded in unison.

Part 26