I freeze in place at Glefe's declaration, considering my options. After a moment, I opt to gather more information.
[When you say 'assume a defensive posture', are you saying, like, go home and get ready, because something will happen in an hour, or is it more of a 'close your mouth because the shit has already hit the fan' type situation?]
[The latter, I'm afraid.] Glefe replies, as my partition's training environment melts away, showing a map of the boardwalk and part of downtown, from the point of view of Glefe's sensors.
A trio of red squares appear, two blocks away from my position.
[I've detected three active linker cores at these locations. Based on their current behavior, I'm classifying them as non-sapient magical enemies. Further reconnaissance is required.]
[Non-sapient?]
[Lacking human-like intelligence, but thinking of them as stupid would be a mistake. Colloquially referred to as "Magical Beasts", they make up a wide array of fauna native to several worlds in Belkan space.]
I mentally go over that, before sighing heavily. "'Course this happens on the one fucking day I'm out of the house." I mutter under my breath. [Glefe, can you plot a course to somewhere I can cast Knight Armor without getting ID'd?]
[Absolutely, my lady. One moment… Done. Proceed North up Waterfront Avenue, and take the first left. Subsequently, take an immediate right into the alley. It is empty, and there is an alcove about halfway down that blocks the view from the street.]
[Got it.] I reply, speeding to a jog as I begin to head in the indicated direction. I just can't help but prod my erstwhile companion as I go, though. [Can't say I ever thought I'd have a satnav in my brain, though.]
[What can I say, Lady Taylor, I'm a machine of many talents.]
I smile at how naturally the byplay shook out. I don't know how long it's been since I've had someone to banter like this with, but it's been years, at least.
I dash through the crowd as, in the distance, sirens begin to approach. If I focus, I can barely make out screams of terror, but the people around me don't seem to be reacting. I'm going to go out on a limb, and say that's probably not a good sign. There are a few shouts of surprise from people I brush past, but it seems that, in general, people are happy to just let the weird girl do whatever.
That's Brockton for you, I guess.
Finally making it to the alley, I duck inside. My eyes flitting around, I quickly locate the alcove Glefe described, which is not only behind a wall from the alley entrance, but further behind a large metal dumpster. Perfect.
I skid to a stop, carefully placing my shopping bags on the floor. [Glefe, mind getting these?] I ask.
[Certainly, my lady.] She replies, before the bags disappear in a flash of light.
Then, finally, I grasp the pendant around my neck and begin to chant.
"From the stars in the sky, to the earth below my feet; for everyone around me, I'll fight in the present, to change the future, so that the past may never repeat! Glefe, set up!"
[Jawohl.]
As the final prismatic motes of light from my transformation dissipate into the air, the illumination playing off the brick walls of the alley, the incantation for Fligerflosse is already on my lips, and I rocket off into the air.
"Verschleiern!" I cry, dodging out of the way of a metal fire escape as I ascend.
Cresting the roof of the four-story apartment building I'd just been behind, I zoom across the two streets to a few scattered yelps of surprise, before slowing to a hover a few hundred feet from the marked targets.
What I see floors me. A trio of quadrupedal beasts of some sort are prowling down the center of the road, snarling mouths dripping saliva onto the pavement in smoking puddles. They stand about four feet tall at the shoulder, appearing to be some kind of mixture of a tiger and one of those ugly hairless cats.
Luckily, this far from the boardwalk, there aren't very many people on the streets, but those who are there are obviously fleeing in terror. Luckily, the monsters seem to not be very interested in giving chase.
[Glefe, what the fuck are those?]
[Unknown. Preliminary scans suggest them to be synthetic organisms, however. At this time, I am recommending termination, due to their unpredictable behavior posing a risk to civilians.]
[Wonderful.] I deadpan. [So, you've got nothing on these things?] I ask, as I ready a Gewehrkugel salvo.
[Nothing actionable, unfortunately. Training lock disabled; you may fire when ready, Lady Taylor.]
"Fire!" I intone, sending about two-dozen projectiles screaming down towards the rampaging beasts. They, though, seem to somehow detect the incoming attack and take evasive action. One dashes laterally, and misses the incoming fusillade by a hair's breadth, the missed shots carving deep furrows into the asphalt below. A second one leaps into the air, successfully shaking a majority of the projectiles, save for one, which blows a great bloody chunk from its right hind leg. The final enemy combines a somewhat more halfhearted jink with a large, purple, circular array flashing into life, which blocks a pair of incoming Gewehrkugel shots, before shattering, which allows a third to carve a deep rent into the side of its sinewy neck.
To my horror, though, as the two injured monsters land, I watch as their flesh begins to knit itself back together, as if a video of the wounds is being played in reverse.
[Regeneration; a Rare Skill, perhaps?] Glefe muses. [At that power level, they must be B rank, at least… -Taylor, dodge!]
Not even with time to think, I throw myself into a steep dive as a veritable shitstorm of purple bolts fly up, perforating the space which I occupied but a moment before.
[Shit! Glefe, Gewehrkugel isn't cutting it against these guys! Will Gottlichhowbitze put them down? And can I use it without destroying the city?] I cry, throwing myself into an over-the-shoulder loop to dodge another follow-up attack as I prep another Gewehrkugel.
[Response to first question: current sensor reading suggests a charge time of five seconds, with array and aria, will be sufficient to overwhelm targets' regenerative capabilities. Under those conditions, danger close range will equal 50 meters of air, or 5 meters of soil. Response to second question: stand by… City records indicate sewer, water, gas, or electricity lines buried at less than 5 meters below every street within 3 blocks of your present position. Calculating…]
[Calculate faster, please!] Stress seeps into my words as I link a pirouette into another Gewehrkugel shot, a stray purple bolt ricocheting from my right shoulder, doing no visible damage, but hurting all the same.
[Proposal: My Lady, Brockton Central Park is located two blocks north of your present location. Drawing enemies there will allow Gottlichhowbitze employment with acceptable levels of collateral damage.]
[Better plan than I had.] I retort, zipping to the right around the next intersection to bait the beasts into a chase to the north as I prep another salvo.
With a roar, I hear the monsters accept my challenge, breaking into a sprint just a scant few feet behind me.
I offer a glance over my shoulder as the monster comes barreling around the corner, its broad shoulder clipping the building as it goes, and creating an obscuring cloud of brick dust.
Out of the cloud, another salvo of bullets zips towards me, and I barely manage to duck below a parked car, which rocks with the impact as I pass.
Some of these days, I really wish I'd have just stayed in bed.
I grunt as I throw myself into yet another high-G turn, dodging a fusilade of fire from the monsters.
It's a careful balance, I discovered, to stay far enough away that the beasts can't hit me, yet keep close enough that I continue to monopolize their attention. I've learned that if I get much more than about 120 feet away, the monsters quickly lose interest in me, and if I close to much less than 90 feet, I'm a sitting duck for their attacks, as evidenced by a couple of tears in my Knight Armor.
It's weirdly specific bounds, for something that's theoretically intelligent. They're acting more like AI in a video game than living beings, so maybe that's a better way to think of them? Glefe did say they were synthetic; can you program a mind? Given what I've seen of her society, I wouldn't exactly put it past them.
Whatever the true answer to my musings, it's slow going on the slog northward, as about once every minute or so, I have to swoop in and save some dumbass or another from becoming cat food for the monsters. Approximately half of them are carrying cameras.
Protip: Being the cameraman doesn't actually confer any protective qualities; it just means that everyone else will be able to see how stupid you were acting before you got yourself eaten.
As I slog my way up to the north, I catch an interesting signature on an intercept, incoming from the east.
It's a human that's flying, for one, making it obviously a parahuman, but more than that, it's emitting electromagnetic radiation in a manner consistent with a communicator/tracker combo. To me, that makes this most likely a member of the protectorate.
Seeming to read my thought process, Glefe chimes in. [Tentative identification: Dauntless, Protectorate ENE. Classifying as neutral.]
So, we're in agreement, then. [Think I can have a chat without giving away too much?]
[Maybe. Given the circumstances, I think it's warranted.]
[Got it.] I report, before darting off towards the incoming hero, down an alleyway.
It doesn't take too long at all to intercept him, as he's flying with an almost quaint slowness. I pop up within his field of view, a respectable distance away, and wave in an attempt to express that I'm not hostile.
It seems to work, at least somewhat; he visibly slows and keeps his spear at a low-ready as he approaches to conversational range.
"Hey, Dauntless, right?" I call out. "We've gotta keep this quick, but did they brief you before you came in?"
"Uhh, yeah." He replies after a pause. "We got calls about possible biotinker creations marauding through the streets. Hey, you're Rainbow, right? The one who had the dust-up with the Empire in the Boat Graveyard? Do you have an actual name we can call you?"
Uhh… I-
[Ritter?] Glefe offers.
Belkan for knight. I suppose there are worse names.
"Call me Ritter. But, listen, we're short on time. The creatures; I don't think they're biotinkered, but that's not important. They have strong regeneration and-"
"Wait." Dauntless interrupts, extending an index finger in a 'hold on' gesture with his left hand as he reaches up to his ear with the right. "Dauntless to Console, I've made contact with Rainbow, given name: Ritter. She claims to have information on the Biotinker creatures. Put me through to all responding units."
After a short delay, there is a series of clicks, and voices begin calling out.
"Armsmaster."
"This is Miss Militia."
"Aegis reads you; with me is Vista."
"Alright, Ritter, that's everyone. You're on speaker; let's hear it."
"Right." I clear my throat. "These creatures, they're fast, they have strong regeneration, as well as powerful ranged attacks. I've been trading blows for about 5 minutes now, and I don't think they're going down without using lethal force. I do have a plan for that; I'm leading them to Central Park, and once they're there, I'll be able to take them down without collateral damage. Before that happens, though, I need help evacuating civilians from the path, and from the park. Can I count on your help with that?"
"One question, your plan to destroy the creatures; could you do it immediately?" Armsmaster asks.
"I could." I reply instantly. "It would just be a bad idea if you have any attachment to the buildings around the target point."
"I see…" Armsmaster observes.
"We can do it, sir!" A young female voice pipes up.
Miss Militia immediately cuts in. "Vista, we can't justify deploying wards in that way. Now, Ritter, our protocol can't support your plan, but if you're willing to work-"
I cut her off. "With all due respect, Miss Militia, I hold the lives of innocent civilians in higher regard than your internal policies. Because of that, I'll be doing the thing that doesn't result in a bunch of people dying avoidably, whether it's convenient for you or not. With that being said, I need to get back to the fight before the beasts disperse."
"Ritter-" Armsmaster starts, before his voice is abruptly cut off by another, sterner one. "This is Director Piggot. I am ordering all protectorate personnel to assist independent hero Ritter in mitigating the consequences of the current situation. Vista, do you believe you can evacuate civilians from the operational area without putting yourself at undue risk?"
"Absolutely, ma'am." The ward replies with conviction.
"And Ritter?" The Director then asks. "I'll be expecting you to accept Dauntless as an observer, do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal, ma'am." I reply, turning to the man himself as I elaborate. "I'm afraid I can't give any assurances as to your safety, though. If you keep your distance, you should be fine, but if you choose to close in? I'm already stretched thin watching out for myself."
"I appreciate your candor, Ritter." The director's voice buzzes out once more.
"But we really have to go, like, now." I emphasize. "Are you good to follow?" I ask of Dauntless.
"Yeah, go for it." He reports, which I respond to by shooting off.
Already, down the street, I begin seeing the telltale psychedelic effects of Vista going to town, which I've seen innumerable times on TV over the years.
Rolling over, I dive for the road, and arrive back at the monsters just in time, as one of them seems to have caught the scent of something in one of the buildings.
"Gewehrkugel!" I cry, launching another salvo at the monsters, whose heads immediately snap in my direction, as arrays flash into life to block the lion's share of the shots.
I execute a roll over the return fire just as Dauntless arrives on scene. I call out to him.
"Dauntless! Don't get too much closer than this; you won't be able to dodge the attacks! If you can't take the heat, fall back another 50 feet or so and they'll mostly leave you alone! Good luck!"
A grunt and a nod is all I get in reply as another volley of fire comes in, necessitating both of us to take immediate evasive action.
This dance goes on for a good several minutes, with me closing in just enough to launch a salvo of bullets, before fading back with the return fire. Dauntless is having decidedly less luck, seemingly needing closer distances in order to utilize his lance's ranged lightning bolt; not easy considering he appears to also be less maneuverable than I am.
At long last, Dauntless' radio crackles to life, with a welcome message.
"This is Militia. 3rd Street is clear south of Michigan Avenue."
"You hear that? Let's-" I glance at the man just as a bolt from one of the monsters punches straight through Dauntless' left shoulder, causing his shield to fall limply by his side.
"Shit! Get out of here! I'll cover you! Lichtbajonett!" I cry, rocketing towards the monsters as the blade bursts into form over Glefe's head. I dip and dodge to the best of my ability, but I catch a square hit on my right arm, tearing a huge rent in my Knight Armor, though thankfully, not permenantly injuring me. As I pass, I strike out at the nearest monster, carving a deep gouge down its side, causing viscous, black ichor to spurt out onto the pavement.
I pull up hard into a zoom climb in order to hopefully jink the return fire, and chance a glance back at Dauntless, who, thankfully, seems to have successfully disengaged to the west.
Alright, the way is clear, time to kick this into overdrive. I dive down and take another swipe at the monster, already healed from my first pass, who in turn manages another hit, carving a second fissure in my armor, but I'm off like a shot down the road before anything else happens. With a salvo of my own bullets as motivation, the monsters take off after me at a gallop, long legs quickly eating up distance to the park.
They nearly manage to close on me, even at my high speed, and so we make it deep into the green space in almost no time. I manage to juke one of the beasts into a fairly substantial tree, which falls over like a drunken teen with the impact, and another crashes into a meager gazebo, whose structure and the picnic tables within are reduced to matchsticks almost immediately.
Unfortunately for my enemy, though, the roof is somewhat more substantial and crashes down atop its body, pinning it in place. So trapped it is, in fact, that its fellows close in and begin trying to help it escape!
Knowing I won't be getting a better opportunity, I zoom several hundred feet into the air, order Glefe to assume shooting mode, and begin to search for Gottlichhowbitze's aria.
Meanwhile, for the first time ever, I hear Glefe's voice with my ears, rather than using telepathy.
"This is a message to all friendly units in the vicinity of Brockton Bay Central Park: Bombardment attacks are about to be employed! Repeat, bombardment attacks are about to be employed! Danger close range is five-zero meters from point of aim! Take cover immediately and assume anti-flash measures! Firing sequence initiated; time-on-target in ten, nine…"
As Glefe continues counting down, something clicks within my mind, and I begin to speak, my voice seeming to carry farther than it should.
"Those that desire peace must prepare for war; that is the ideal I wield my weapons for. So that the clouds of strife may never obscure our skies, and when morning comes, that all may enjoy the sunrise!" I roar, all the while, a massive triangular array, multiple times my height spins below my feet.
"Gottlichhowbitze!" I declare, as if invoking the name of a deity.
"Firing! Firing! Firing!" Glefe urgently calls.
"Los!" I speak the activation phrase, and everything becomes noise.
The beam lances out, more powerful than any spell I've ever cast. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if it's more powerful than everything else I've cast put together. All three monsters raise shields in their defense, but the barriers are ripped apart with the ease of crushing an ant underfoot. As their bodies start taking damage, their regeneration kicks into overdrive, but that, too, is futile. After a few seconds of concentrated fire, the bodies are reduced to their constituent atoms. After about one more second of fire, to be sure, I cut the flow of mana, and the attack peters out, leaving behind only a thirty-foot wide crater lined with vitrified dirt, and a few smoldering trees.
[Termination confirmed. Good shooting, My Lady.] Glefe cheerfully reports as her vents emit a puff of steam that sounds an awful lot like a contented sigh. [I recommend we take our leave at this time.]
Looking down at the few visible heroes, they're already staggering back to their feet after the spectacle of my strongest attack.
[I guess that would be for the best.] I reply, before zipping off to the east, away from the heroes. Dauntless tries to give chase, but between my superior speed and Glefe's sensors, shaking him is laughably easy. Once done, I find an alley to land in, dismiss my Knight Armor and disguise, take my shopping bags back out of Glefe, and start my walk home.
[So, Glefe,] I ask, after a few moments of silence. [That was my first battle that lasted longer than, like, 15 seconds. How did I do?]
Glefe gives the impression of humming, but doesn't answer right away. After about half a minute, she deigns to respond. [Given the tools at your disposal, and your experience level, you performed admirably.]
[...But you think there are ways for me to improve.]
[There's always ways to improve, Lady Taylor.] Glefe chides me. [But yes. For one, you were hit on multiple occasions. In the more egregious case, you were applying pressure on the enemy to allow a wounded ally a chance to escape, so I'll spare you the lecture on putting yourself in danger, but you would not have been hit at all if you used a shield spell. This is partially my failure, as you've never been taught any shields, but it's a shortcoming we'll rectify tomorrow.]
[Oh! I'm always happy to learn new spells!] I chirp.
[Most cadets are less enthused after they learn what the training entails, but I appreciate your enthusiasm. We-] Glefe cuts herself off abruptly, and pauses for several seconds. [Don't look, but there's a PRT cruiser driving up the road from behind you. Remember, act natural, they have no reason to suspect you of anything.]
A knot forms in my stomach as I hear the sound of approaching tires. Then, when a voice calls out to me, my blood turns to ice.
"Excuse me, miss, can I bother you for a second?"
I school my face as well as I possibly can, as I stop walking, and turn towards the car. I see the passenger window is rolled down, and the driver, a uniformed PRT officer, but not wearing that scary full-face mask, is leaning down in order to see me. He's the car's only occupant.
"Yes, sir, what can I do for you?" I ask.
"You haven't seen any capes flying around here, have you?" He asks.
I strike an exaggerated thinking pose, mostly to help calm my nerves. "I saw Glory Girl on my run a couple days back, but I assume you meant more recently?"
"In the last couple of minutes, yeah." He affirms, hope in his tone.
"Then, I'm sorry, but no. I'll admit I haven't been spending much time looking up, though." I reply apologetically.
"Nobody in this fuckin' town looks up." He mutters, quietly enough that I'm pretty sure I wasn't meant to overhear. "Well, thanks anyway. Sorry to bother you." He finally offers, before rolling the window back up and driving away.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
Damn, they really know nothing about me, do they? That's a relief. Now, to get back home.
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♦ Topic: Big cape fight in the Boat Graveyard
In: Boards ► North America ► Brockton Bay ► Events
Bagrat (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Posted On Dec 29th 2010:
Alright, folks, a bit of a weird one for you all today. I'm picking up a lot of chatter about some cape fight in the Boat Graveyard. Apparently, the Empire got it in their heads to press-gang some new cape, and got their teeth kicked in for it. The problem? Nobody seems to know anything about our new cape other than that they solo'd about a dozen armed Empire Grunts, as well as Krieg, and Stormtiger, all at once. No powers, no costume, no anything.
Edit: A source in the BBPD sent me this image: [LINK]
Apparently, that's an armored door from an Empire Cape Transport that's been crumpled up and thrown about 15 feet from the vehicle it came from.
Edit 2: Per Miss Mercury, here's a recording of the entire event: [LINK]
(Showing page 3 of 12)
►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Dec 29th 2010:
@Sosoth All I'm saying is that the only thing we know for sure they did was beat up a bunch of Empire. That makes them alright, in my book.
►Good Ship Morpheus
Replied On Dec 29th 2010:
We saw the fight from the South Docks. A big-ass flash lit up the clouds, and a bang rattled the windows a bit. I guess I know what that was all about, then.
►Mr. Fabuu
Replied On Dec 29th 2010:
good Ship Morpheus Really? That's, what, half a mile away, at least? Why isn't everyone in the damn city talking about this?
►White Fairy (Veteran Member)
Replied On Dec 29th 2010:
@Mr. Fabuu Brother, this is Brockton. We have a 'Big cape fight', like every other day. We're all just glad that Lung isn't burning the place down again.
►Miss Mercury (Protectorate Employee)
Replied On Dec 29th 2010:
For public release:
At 10:32am, on December 28th, 2011, 911 operators began receiving reports of a possible parahuman altercation in Brockton Bay South Beach, more commonly known as the Boat Graveyard. A PRT/Protectorate Joint Reaction Team was dispatched immediately. Upon arriving to the scene, a large group of unpowered individuals, as well as the known Empire-affiliated parahumans Stormtiger and Krieg, all of which were unconscious. A security recording of the altercation was obtained, and has been approved for release.
[LINK]
The unknown parahuman is not wanted for questioning at this time; however, we urge that they come forward for power testing for their own safety. Additionally, while Krieg and Stormtiger have outstanding arrest warrants, most of the unpowered members do not, and will likely walk free unless this individual is willing to provide witness testimony.
►OrdinaryOnigiri
Replied On Dec 29th 2010:
Holy shit, look at that shot! Imagine being Stormtiger, and taking your swasticass down to the graveyard to pressgang some kid, only to get your ass folded like a lawnchair by the Doom Laser Of Gay.
►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Dec 29th 2010:
Miss Mercury Wait, the unpowered gangers are walking if they don't come forward? You literally have them on video trying to kidnap someone! What the fuck is this?
► Glefe
Replied On Dec 29th 2010:
It's a bad day to be Stormtiger. Maybe, while he's in jail, he can save up enough money to finish his fursuit.
►White Fairy (Veteran Member)
Replied On Dec 29th 2010:
@Glefe Pffthahah
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ... 10, 11, 12
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♦ Topic: Ritter
In: Boards ► North America ► Brockton Bay ► Capes
Bagrat (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Posted On Dec 29th 2010:
Well, the PRT has released some more information on the perpetrator of the Great Gay Doomlaser incident of last month, so this is the thread dedicated to the cape currently known by the temporary PRT designation "Rainbow".
Edit: Holy crap, busy day today! As far as I can piece together, things went down like this:
A bit after noon, these big-ass, hairless, lion-looking things show up downtown.
[LINK] [LINK]
Now, the early reports are fragmented; some say they came from the sewers, some say they appeared in a flash of light. Whatever happened, our girl (and yeah, we know their gender now, I'll circle back later) showed up and took exception to them.
[LINK] [LINK] [LINK]
Oh, yeah, did I mention the lions knew Magic Missile? Because apparently, they knew Magic Missile. Once the heroes showed up, she and Dauntless fought together for a bit. Apparently, she introduced herself as "Ritter".
[LINK]
At least, until our local spear enthusiast took a bad hit.
[LINK]
And that causes the woman of the hour to go a bit apeshit.
[LINK] [LINK]
Yeah, that's a fucking lightsaber spear. Anyway, the monsters ran into Central Park, and you all know what happened next.
[LINK] [LINK] [LINK] [LINK] [LINK] [LINK] [LINK]
And after the non-consensual re-landscaping, when the smoke cleared, she was just... gone. Like she was never there in the first place.
(Showing page 5 of 64)
►Flippinmad
Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:
The flying, the gay rainbow beams, she's gotta be Legend's secret daughter, or something. I can't be the only person seeing this!
►Procto the Unfortunate Tinker (Not a tinker)
Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:
One thing stuck out to me in the videos of the 'Turbo-doomlaser'. That voice you can hear in the closer perspectives, that's totally Ritter calling out her attack like it's a fucking cartoon, right?
►Valkyr (Wiki Warrior)
Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:
@Procto the Unfortunate Tinker Okay, people, place your bets now. Is it a required aspect of her power expression? Or is Ritter just a massive dork?
►Chilldrizzle
Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:
YALL WAIT WAIT WAIT
SO MY APARTMENT BUILDING HAS BEEN HAVING PEOPLE BREAKING INTO THE DUMPSTERS AND IT''S ANNOYING AS FUCK SO I SET UP A CAMERA TO CATCH THEIR ASSES BUT CHECK WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED YESTERDAY
[LINK]
THAT'S FUCKING RITTER TRANSFORMING IN MY ALLEY! I HAD TO CENSOR THE FIRST PART OF THE VIDEO BECAUSE SHE WAS IN HER CIVVIES AND POSTING THAT SHIT ISN'T COOL BUT LOOK AT IT
►Lolitup
Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:
Hold the phone, was that an actual, honest-to-goodness Magical Girl transformation? Like, she goes all:
"From the stars in the sky, to the earth below my feet; for everyone around me, I'll fight in the present, to change the future, so that the past may never repeat!"
And then goes all fucking biblical gigalaser on the bad guys.
►Vista (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:
@Lolitup You don't understand. At the park, she went into this whole thing about how "So that the clouds of war will never obscure the skies, and everyone can see the sunrise!", called her friggin' attack like it's an anime, and then left before anyone realized!
Ritter, if you're reading this, I swear I'm like your biggest fan! I'll buy you lunch at Fugly's, or whatever you want, I swear!
►ArchmageEin
Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:
Is nobody going to talk about the effects of that attack? She fucking glassed a 50-foot wide hole into the center of a major metropolitan area! I can't be the only one uncomfortable that someone with that power is running free, right?
►Laotsunn (Kyushu Survivor)
Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:
@ArchmageEin Personally, I disagree. She's been given this power, sure, but ask yourself: what has she done with it? Most heroes spend the first few weeks of their careers assaulting the homeless and mentally disabled in pursuit of "fighting crime". That sounds more like a sign of mental illness than heroics to me. Meanwhile, what has Ritter done? Beat the absolute shit out of a bunch of Nazis that were trying to kidnap her, and put down a bunch of monsters that were trying to eat people. Until I get a reason not to, she's alright in my book.
►Mane Magenta
Replied On Jan 3rd 2011:
I just realized that "Ritter" means "Knight" in German. I was going to ask if there's any chance she's affiliated with the E88, until I realized that's dumb. Still, though it's an interesting tidbit. I wonder if she's actually German and takes issue with the Empire's ideology? Food for thought, I guess.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 ... 62, 63, 64
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SECRET/NOFORNHeadquarters, Parahuman Response Team, East-North-East Division.
483 Michigan Avenue, Brockton Bay, New Hampshire, 01952
Piggot, Emily, Director
Form PD 1187: PRT Threat Assessment
{Editor's note: The Parahuman Ritter has not submitted herself to power testing of any kind. The following information has been deduced from after-action investigation and videographic analysis. As such, this document should be considered medium-confidence information. Caution is advised.}
Subject: Ritter, FKA Rainbow
Name: Unknown
Disposition: Rogue/Independent Hero
Location: Brockton Bay
Classification: Tinker 9: Brute 4, Blaster 8, Mover 7, Changer|Stranger 1 (possible)
General appearance: Ritter appears to be a female young adult, weighing approximately 140lbs. Defining characteristics include loosely-worn long, black hair, green eyes, and a birthmark on the left cheek. She wears a professional-appearing costume consisting of a navy blue, & gold embroidered dress, skirt, and vest, as well as several metal panels. When employing her mover power, a pair of glowing, rainbow-colored wings appear from the small of her back. Ritter does not appear to wear a mask.
Personality: Ritter has shown herself to be affable and professional, with a strong desire to avoid harm befalling civilians. At the same time, she has demonstrated an aversion to speaking with PRT and Protectorate personnel. No special considerations are warranted.
Powers:
Tinker 9: Specialty unknown, but surmised based on demonstrated powerset.
Brute 4: Ritter is observed to have withstood several attacks capable of piercing Dauntless' armor.
Blaster 8: Ritter has utilized homing energy attacks, capable of incapacitating an armored human in one or two hits, inside a range of approximately 100 meters. Additionally, she possesses a coherent beam attack which can be used in non-lethal or lethal modes, with a maximum observed output of approximately 35 MJ.
Mover 7: Ritter is capable of flight and has been observed maintaining speeds in excess of 90 m/s. She has also been observed attaining straight-line accelerations exceeding 6g, and performing maneuvers requiring 20+g loading. Whether this is possible through inertial-dampening technology, or physiological modification is unknown.
Changer|Stranger 1 (possible): Despite not wearing a mask, facial recognition analysis has not succeeded in identifying Ritter out of costume. As of the time of writing, it is unknown whether this failure is due to a Changer, or Stranger rating on Ritter's part.
Observations: Due to Ritter's Mover rating, Protectorate ENE is not capable of forcing a confrontation. Should such an action become required, out-of-district Brute/Mover reinforcements such as Alexandria (PID 05) or Grumman (PID 8492) are best suited to capture operations.
Recommendations: Unless and until the ENE division receives Protectorate reinforcements capable of countering Ritter's observed abilities, special care should be exercised to ensure Ritter maintains good relations with the PRT. Within these bounds, priority should be given to gaining more information on Ritter's capabilities. Power Testing would be preferable, but even the answers to a few questions would help immensely.
Addendum 1/3/11 14:32: I'm very proud of the collection of talent in my department, but even we can't squeeze blood from a stone. Until we get more information, we're flying blind here, people. Until that happens, I'm begging you, don't piss off Baby Legend.
-Dr. Marissa Washington
Head, Power Testing, Threat Assesment Department, PRT ENE
Addendum 1/3/11 16:29: Ritter is a possible asset, but that does not override the fact that there's a possible biotinker in the bay, and we need all the information on them we can get. I'm directing any Protectorate personnel who encounter Ritter to take her in for questioning. I don't care what bridges need to get burned to do that.
-Emily Piggot
Director, PRT ENESECRET/NOFORN
When morning came, I awoke more sore than I had anticipated. I'd spent all day yesterday training, but it was all in image training, and that doesn't usually carry over to reality in quite this way. Perhaps it was due to the intensity? Or maybe it's just puberty, I don't really know.
Anyway, my busy yesterday was in service of the spell Panzerschild, or "Armored Shield". It's a protection-type spell that manifests a semi-solid array that blocks all incoming magical attacks, and most physical ones too. The stronger the attack, though, the more mana it needs to be fed, lest it break and require a recast.
As for the actual training, well, Glefe was right, I didn't like it very much. Panzerschild is all about blocking incoming attacks, so I spent basically the entire day in Image Training getting shot at in various ways, learning when to dodge, when to block, and when to just take the hit. It was fucking exhausting, let me tell you.
But that was all yesterday. Today, I must contend with an evil that can't be stopped by any shield, and can't be removed with something as meager as a doomlaser.
Today, I have to go back to school.
Many of the woes in my current life can be traced back to my childhood best friend Emma, who decided two years ago that her new mission in life would be to make mine miserable. Why? I don't know, nor do I, at this point, particularly care. There's only so many secrets told in confidence, weaponized against me, I could take before I internalized the fact that the Emma I knew is dead, or worse, that I never truly knew her in the first place. She, and her Triumvirate of Bitch-ness are all that remain.
Though now that I think about it, with all that I've been through, all my issues at school seem so… petty. Sophia likes to shove me in the halls and make me feel threatened, but nothing she can do can hold a candle to staring down Hookwolf immediately after having robbed him for thousands of dollars. What are Madison's petty barbs compared to the feeling of lighting off Lichtbajonett and running it through the guts of a creature to buy time for a fellow hero to escape with his life? Nothing, that's what.
It's for this reason that, halfway through slipping into a hoodie, I have a change of heart, and instead shirk on the leather crop that weird girl had me buy. Looking at myself in the mirror, I… have to admit, I actually look alright. Not that I'm underwear model-tier or anything, but just the basic fact that I'm looking at myself in the mirror, and being proud of what I'm seeing? It's an… interesting experience, to be sure.
Now, if only I can keep convincing myself of that once I get to school.
---
Looking at the entranceway, I take stock of myself one final time.
Loins: Girded.
Outfit: Fresh.
Posture: Straight.
Head: Held high.
I strut my way through those front doors, ready for whatever will come to pass…
…
Any time now.
…
Huh. You know, coming in, I was mentally preparing myself for many different scenarios. People whispering behind my back, getting ambushed by the doors, that sort of thing.
Of all the things I was expecting, nobody caring at all wasn't on my radar of possibilities.
I deflate a little, but I'm still happy with the results.
At least, until a fellow sophomore locks eyes with me. His eyes widen, before he breaks off and scurries away.
Huh, that isn't ominous at all.
Shaking my head, I continue on. The looks, and a few whispered conversations are more in line with what I'd expected, but they're extremely unsettling after the bait-and-switch I initially subjected myself to.
As I round the corner to my locker, a profound stink strikes me as if it were a physical force. It smells like something died in here! What the hell?
I immediately spin up my situational awareness partition and discover that Glefe's sensors are picking up a trio of individuals hiding in the alcove leading to the music room, about halfway down the hallway.
Yeah. I have no idea what's going on, but I want no part of it. I spin on my heel and begin walking away, planning on making for the office, at least until I am intercepted.
I sigh. "What do you want, Sophia?" I ask, not stopping.
"Thought you could get away that easy, huh?" She sneers.
"No, I thought I could get the janitor, because clearly something died in the Music Hallway." I deadpan, stepping around a member of the growing crowd around us.
"What, you didn't like our little gift? We spent so much time getting it ready for you!"
Already, people are taking out phones. "Why the hell are you admitting to that?"
"Because you need to know exactly where your place is! Trash goes in the trash can, after all! And you'll never be coming out again!" I momentarily look away from her, half-avoiding a collision with a classmate, and half flabbergasted at what the fuck she just said. In that moment, she lunges at me. With the benefit of my partition, I manage to see it coming, and sidestep the attack.
Sophia stumbles for a couple of steps, but quickly rights herself and launches into a haymaker blow aimed at my face. I barely manage to twist out of the way, landing an elbow strike into Sophia's kidney as she overextends to uproarious cheering from the growing crowd now surrounding us.
She stumbles back, and I take the opportunity to backpedal a couple of paces and actually get my feet under me. Sophia snarls and winds up for an obvious attack at my face, which I dodge easily.
Oh, fuck, that was a feint. Sophia's knee flies true, striking my jaw and sending my head snapping backwards. She follows up with a single-handed hammerblow from above, driving me down onto the tile floor.
Stars dancing behind my eyes, and copper filling my mouth, I shakily return to my feet, spitting a glob of crimson to the floor as I rise.
Sophia's glare appears more appraising, now. "Not bad, Hebert. Not many people have landed a hit on me. Unfortunately for you, you're still going in the garbage." She sneers before closing back in with two quick jabs to my torso, which I manage to sidestep and bat away with my forearm, respectively.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?" A voice from the left bellows. We both spin to witness the Gym coach pushing through the crowd, followed closely behind by the school nurse. His eyes scan the scene, alighting first on the patch of blood on the ground, then on my face, which I'm sure is already beginning to bruise, and then on Sophia. "Hess! With me, now!" He orders. "And you-" he points at me. "Nurse's office, got it?" His tone brooks no argument.
"Yes, sir." I reply, before being ushered away by the nurse.
Winslow's Nurse's office is little more than an eight-by-eight room with a cot on one side, and a set of cabinets and a sink on the other. A few 'nurse propaganda' posters adorn the walls; one tells you not to drink soda, and another that exercise is good for you, actually.
The Nurse's checkup mostly amounts to checking my mouth for broken teeth (There were none, thankfully), dabbing some kind of astringent-smelling liquid on my bruises, and then giving me an Aspirin and an ice pack.
Thanks, such help, wow.
Before she leaves, though, I ask her one question.
"Ms. Hendricks, do you know if anybody has called the cops yet?"
"I don't think so, Taylor." She replies in that motherly-yet-also-condescending tone she always uses.
"Can you… make sure they get called? Sophia was talking about the things she was going to do to me, and it sounded a lot closer to attempted murder than I'm comfortable with, and I don't trust the administration to take this seriously."
The nurse freezes, before turning back around, walking up to the bed, and squatting down to eye level with me. "To be clear: you're accusing Sophia Hess of trying to kill you? Are you sure?"
I sigh. "She was bragging about filling my locker with garbage, said that she would be putting me in there, and that, quote, 'I would not be coming back out'. I'm not sure how else to interpret that."
She closes her eyes. "Okay. Yeah, I'll call them for you." She says, before hurrying out with a few more empty assurances, leaving me to stew in my own thoughts.
[Glefe?] I ask.
[Yes, Lady Taylor?]
[I kinda got my ass kicked, didn't I?]
[You fought a more technically adept opponent in an environment where you were not able to leverage your own strengths.]
[That sounds an awful lot like a yes.] I grumble.
[May I ask some questions?]
That catches me off guard. [I guess, why?]
[These people, the 'Bitches', I seem to recall you calling them, you have a history, yes?]
[Yeah, they've been giving me trouble for a while, now?]
[Can you be more specific, if you don't mind my asking?] Glefe prods carefully.
[Ever since I've been in high school, so a year and a half, basically.]
My device presses on. [And in that time, have they ever been punished for their conduct?]
I take a moment to think. [I think Sophia got in-school suspension for a couple of days once, but otherwise, no.]
[Then it's settled. Today's engagement may have been a tactical defeat, but it was a strategic victory.]
I narrow my eyes. [...Glefe, what does that mean?]
[You engaged in battle and suffered worse injuries than you managed to inflict. That makes it a tactical defeat. Strategically, though, it's a different story. You recognized the ambush for what it was, and forced yourself to be engaged in an area with witnesses and videographic evidence, and put up enough of a fight that your enemies will not be able to deny their actions. Even if the local law enforcement's investigation comes to nothing, it's unlikely they will be so brazen again.]
[Maybe that's true, but it doesn't make getting the shit kicked out of me feel much better.]
[You fought an opponent with some formal hand-to-hand training, as well as some practical experience, while having neither training nor experience yourself. It's only natural you'd come out the worse.]
[Wait, Sophia has training?] My eyes widen. [How do you know?]
[At several points during the fight, her motions followed several recognizable Strike Arts katas. Obviously, she is unable to utilize the mana-channeling effects, as she lacks an activated linker core, but the motions themselves are chosen because they are powerful mundane strikes.]
[Strike arts?] I ask, curious. [Like, magic martial arts?]
[Exactly. There is not much skill carryover from the more 'traditional' magic that you employ, and I can't claim to have much experience with using the style anyway, but I can give you a few basic katas later to run through on your own time, should you choose.]
[Sounds fun.] I remark, the darkness clouding my thoughts not quite gone, but less all-encompassing.
It takes another hour or so before the police show up, and I'm quickly joined in the cramped room by a detective. Quickly, I begin to be asked a battery of questions.
Yes, I am familiar with Sophia. Yes, she has some sort of problem with me. No, I don't know why. The last time I touched my locker was when I left school before winter break. Yes, I was aware that vandalism occurred, Sophia bragged to me about doing it. No, I'm not aware of the specifics, just that I could smell it from over 30 feet away. WHAT THE FUCK IT WAS FILLED WITH TWO-WEEK OLD USED TAMPONS? EW EW EW EW EW EW EW EW! Sorry, sorry. No, I don't know who put them there, but I can't imagine it was anyone other than Sophia, Emma, or Madison. Yes, I can give a quick description of the fight, but it would probably be better to just grab one of the videos. What's that? Yeah, I saw about a dozen different people recording the fight. No, I don't think I could name names.
And so on it went. After a couple of hours, I guess the detective became convinced enough that I hadn't somehow vandalized my own locker and then beaten myself bloody that I was allowed to leave. A couple quick questions to the officer who was accompanying him, and I glean that my dad has been contacted, and the last anybody knew, he was having a screaming match with Principal Blackwell's secretary in the main office.
I head in that direction, ready for what will probably be a very awkward conversation with my dad, and then, hopefully, the end of my most stressful day in recent memory.