School was pretty boring on the average day, but there was something especially boring about school the morning after a fight for my life with the ABB. I honestly debated bailing again, but I had already gotten enough crazy looks last night when I arrived back at the apartment in sweaty and rumpled clothes. If Masuyo got a call from the school right now, then she might decide I wasn’t worth the trouble and toss me out. If everything worked out with Faultline, then I’d be okay with risking that, but until I had a guarantee of a different roof over my head, I wasn’t about to take the risk of living on the street.
The one good thing about going to school was I had Computer Science on my MWF schedule. My middle school had a similar program I had taken for the chance of having extra computer access—a precious commodity in my experience—and apparently this class covered the same material. That meant I was able to finish up early and do a bit of research on PHO, Parahumans Online, about the local gangs’ capes. I navigated to the site and started with checking out the ABB first, where I confirmed there was nothing on Lung’s wiki about boosted perception. Was I wrong about him having that, or was it just an unreported power? It seemed equal parts plausible and implausible. On the one hand he had so many powers that what’s one more at the end of the day, but on the other hand, did he steal the whole goddamn bucket of powers when they were being handed out or something?
In any case, I also found some info on the teleporter. Oni Lee, a known serial suicide bomber, and that was headache inducing to wrap my mind around. Every time he had teleported last night, the person left behind had burst into ash after a few seconds. That tracked with the info on the wiki, but… Did he teleport and leave a clone behind, or was the clone what remained and the original Lee died the first time he used his power? Was he actually somehow aware of and in control of all the versions of him, so it became functionally pointless? All of the Lees I fought last night had acted independently, so I was inclined to think there wasn’t an overarching control just because how could anyone process all of that… Then again, I was somehow a human metal detector and could move shit with my mind. Powers were grade A bullshit that made no logical sense, so who was to say?
More important than reading about the ABB though, I had finally looked up the E88. It took me a bit to read through all the E88 capes’ wikis, in particular the descriptions of publicly known powers, but I eventually found that Tammi’s cape name was Rune. More importantly, however, I realized the E88 had a fuckton of capes. Ten active capes, another active but never with E88 underlings, and four more in alleged retirement? What gang has that much firepower?! A quick count of the active Protectorate and Wards, the heroes younger than eighteen-years-old, showed there were fourteen altogether. That meant Brockton Bay had so many nazi capes that they literally outnumbered the government funded heroes. Just… just what the fuck.
And one of those nazis knew my name.
I am so fucked, I thought, struggling to keep my cool and not have a public freakout in the middle of class. Naturally, a loud ringing noise pierced the calm, relative quiet of the computer lab, which startled me badly enough that I almost started to pulverize everything with my coins. Fortunately I kept my backpack zipped up in the school to avoid wandering eyes, so all I accomplished at first was my bag awkwardly stretching its seams to the breaking point and lifting into the air. That stayed my hand long enough for me to realize the noise was just the bell for the end of class—and blessedly my last class—so I dropped my power. The resulting thwump of who only knows how many pounds of coins hitting the floor drew some eyes my way, which I pointedly ignored in favor of logging out of the computer and getting the hell out of there. I had an appointment to get ten grand and, hopefully, some goddamn backup in case the fifteen capes in the Empire—Oh shit, probably the two in the ABB too! Fuuuck—decided they wanted me dead. Or alive, for that matter. Neither sounded particularly appealing.
I slipped into the hallway, which quickly devolved into a morass as everyone left their final classes. Thankfully, my locker wasn’t terribly far away, and after shoving my textbooks inside, I made a beeline for the closest exit. I probably would’ve been out the door and on my way to Palanquin in under two minutes, but I was distracted by my power sensing something odd. And by something odd, I mean something that was not possible. Even though my powers were only two days old, it was still strangely natural to align the metal I sensed with what I was seeing. Take the three gangbangers in the empty classroom at the end of the hallway. I couldn’t see them, but I could distinctly feel the three metal rectangles with blades concealed inside—switchblades, had to be—as surely as if I had my hand on each blade, and every other piece of metal in the room was unnaturally still. Not that I had three hands, but… Okay, analogy broken—whatever. The point was, I could feel with acute clarity where they were, and I could see the classroom, so ‘there are three probable gangbangers in that classroom down there’ was obvious to me. And that sort of observation made sense too. Gangbangers huddling together to discuss knifing someone, selling drugs, or whatever they do in an empty classroom? Yeah, sure, everything’s kosher.
Several pieces of metal being pulled through a locker door and everything being left intact? That was not possible.
Almost unconsciously, I turned away from the exit and—oof, okay, it turns out stopping in the middle of the hallway while everyone was trying to leave wasn’t exactly a great idea. I stumbled a bit and tried to keep my balance by tugging my backpack in the opposite direction, but that was a stupid mistake. I had forgotten how little fine control I had and completely overcompensated, yanking myself backward and falling onto my ass and my lumpy, hard backpack. Several students nearby snickered, though a few looked concerned and one or two looked confused. I flushed and rose to my feet, careful not to flash anyone since I was wearing a skirt. One Vietnamese boy wearing red and green leered at me, and I sneered back, not wanting anything to do with someone in the ABB.
I grabbed my backpack, careful to only use my power enough to make the coins inside weightless this time, and ran off in the direction of the person carrying the pieces of metal that had been pulled through the locker door. It was an odd collection of metal, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. One piece was a rod with an oval loop at the end, and there was a pair of hinges and a latch, but there were three pieces that had me confused. They had regularly spaced holes along each of them and what seemed to be levers over each hole that cover the opening if engaged, and one of the pieces had a bigger hole separate from the rest with a raised oval of metal lining it. I tried to imagine it, but even though I vaguely felt like I should recognize it, a mental image of the items eluded me.
Whoever had the items didn’t seem to be in a tremendous hurry, so I thankfully caught up quickly enough. As the back exit by the dumpsters came into sight, it happened again. The items were pushed straight through the side of what I was pretty sure was a dumpster and then stopped moving altogether. The person who did it started to leave, their phones—Maybe I’m misjudging one of the items… Why would someone have two phones?—bouncing along with their steps. I rushed over and looked through the inserted glass windows in the doors. What I felt lined up with the only person nearby, a tall black girl with straight brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, so she had to be the person I was looking for.
I pushed open the door and curiously called out, “How did you do that?”
The girl whirled around and fixed me with a burning glare. “The fuck you talking about?”
“You… um…” I started to say before trailing off, my thoughts catching up with my words and realization dawning. Oh shit, I’m an idiot. The girl had powers! And I had just called her out on it while she wasn’t wearing a mask. The last thing I need is another Tammi situation. Abort, abort! “You know what? I’m just gonna head back inside now. Bye!”
“Hold up!” she shouted at me, but I was already fleeing back inside. Holy shit, she’s fast, I noted as I looked for somewhere to hide. The girl had been a good distance from the door when I’d called out, a bit more than a hundred feet maybe, but she’d already closed half the distance. I ducked into an empty classroom on my right, but that was a terrible place to hide since it was one of the obvious first places to look, so I immediately crossed over to the window, tugged off my backpack, and unzipped it. Coins flooded out at my command and carried my mask in their wake. I had no time to tie it on though, since the cape had dashed up the stairs and was flinging open the door. I held it over my face with one hand while hastily preparing to fly with my coins, tossed open the window with my other, then climbed through with my backpack in hand. Apparently luck was on my side in that moment, since she ran to the room on the opposite side of the hall first, so I was able to safely make my way through and lift up into the air. By the time she got to the classroom I’d used and ran over to the window, I was already on the roof, not bothering to fight back a grin as I watched her lean out the window and look back and forth.
“… fuck … she go? … far,” I could just barely make out from up here, only catching pieces of what she said. Her head vanished back inside, and I felt her make her way further into the school, moving back and forth between rooms.
“Well that was close,” I muttered as I returned my attention to the items in the dumpster. My curiosity getting the better of me again, I grabbed a hold and tugged them up out of the dumpster, and they moved in sync with each other. I resisted the urge to facepalm when I the small, black instrument case. “It’s a flute!”
But why would the cape put it in a dumpster? She could have been getting rid of evidence, but that seemed unlikely. She had pulled it through a locker door—was she a thief? Hiding something stolen would’ve made sense if she had been expecting to be confronted about it—I had done the same a few times—but usually the idea was to play it cool when approached, and her reaction had been anything but. A bendable plastic tube was attached to the case by looping through itself, and the other end was looped around an old leather name tag with an insert. I carefully examined it, wary of getting filth on my hands, and though some trash had seeped into it, I could still somewhat make out the name Annette Hebert in fancy script. I briefly debated whether I should keep and sell it myself, but I still didn’t have a fence in Brockton Bay. I could sell it to a pawn shop, but they kept records of their sellers, and I didn’t want this Annette to be able to track me down. I also didn’t have a fake ID for June instead of my deadname yet, and I would sooner shout from the rooftops that I was a parahuman than do any form of business by my deadname.
Maybe I’ll get a reward if I return it?
I didn’t want to risk flying back down and being spotted, so I stashed my coins and mask once again and made my way over to the roof access door. It was locked, because life just couldn’t be that simple, but fortunately it was one of those doors with a push bar. The bar being on the inside was no deterrent—I simply pulled it towards me as gently as I could and tugged the door open by hand. My good fortune continued when I found an old tarp on the landing inside. There was no way in hell I was touching the filthy flute case I had been levitating with my bare hands, after all. I set the flute on the ground with my power, set down my backpack, and withdrew some of the coins. I couldn’t make a knife with my power, per se, but using the mass of a few coins to fashion a vaguely pointy shaped lump of metal wasn’t too hard. I used that to stab and cut at the tarp until I had a decent sized hunk torn off, molded the lump into a metal sphere, then made my way down the stairs with the lump in my bag and the handle of the flute case, now wrapped in tarp, in hand.
It took me a bit to find my way back towards where the locker had been, since I was coming from an unfamiliar direction, and by that time most of the students had cleared out. That made the half circle of giggling girls around the area where I recalled the locker being all the more obvious. In the middle of the group with their back to the lockers was a person—I couldn’t readily distinguish a gender—with long, curly black hair and glasses in a drab hoodie and jeans, who was facing a curvy redheaded girl.
“P-Please, Emma,” the black-haired person stammered, looking and sounding like they were seconds away from crying. “Just give it back!”
The redhead, Emma apparently, smiled while tucking a lock of her long hair behind her ear. At least, I thought that’s what the cruel, mocking upturn of her lips was supposed to be. “Oh Taylor, how many times do I have to tell you? How would I know anything about where you misplaced your mom’s flute? You really should keep better track of your valuables.”
I frowned a bit. Had she said ‘Taylor’? The name tag had said the flute belonged to an ‘Annette Hebert,’ but then, the bitch had said it belonged to Taylor’s mother. That might actually be a good thing. Adults were more likely than teens to give rewards for returned items. “Yo,” I called out while walking over. “What’s your mom’s name?”
The girls in the circle stared at me, clearly nonplussed, and Emma grit her teeth tellingly at the sight of the flute in my hand, but I only had eyes for Taylor, whose eyes widened at the sight of the flute case, her mouth dropping open somewhat. After a moment, they managed to get a hold of themself and reply, “Annette. My mom’s name was Annette.”
“Was”? Yikes, not touching that with a ten foot pole, I thought while indicating the flute by holding it up just a little. I guess I’m banking on sentimentality. “Then I guess this is yours. The case is a little… gross though. May want to check inside—I didn’t look at anything but the name tag.”
“Thank you so much!” Taylor exclaimed as they push past some of the girls and rushed over. Having heard them speak a bit more and finally seeing them up close, I suspected they were a girl, but I decided to withhold judgment until I heard them say one way or the other. Because damn did they dress androgynously. Actually, I wasn’t even sure androgynous was the right word for their fashion sense. They looked more like they were trying to blend into the wall than anything else. Body type fell solidly into androgynous, though it was hard to tell through those clothes. Face seemed feminine. The only real thing of note about them was their hair, which I was firmly jealous of. “Yes, that’s it! Where did you find it?”
“In the dumpster out back,” I replied as I handed it over, taking care to pass it by the part covered in tarp. I purposefully avoided mentioning the cape for the moment, since the more distance I could put between myself and her, the better. The last thing I needed was her recognizing me and asking questions about how I’d up and vanished out from under her nose.
“Well, it looks like Taylor’s got herself a friend,” the bitch sneered as she stalked over. “Careful you don’t end up pushing this one away too. It’s not like anybody else in school can stand to be around you.” I’d been halfway through opening my mouth to point out that it was hard to be somebody’s friend when I had only just met them, but hearing that last bit gave me pause. I might have written it off as hyperbole, but Taylor’s flinch at the remark was damning. Really? Nobody at all? When Taylor didn’t verbally reply the bitch tsked, spun on her heel, and stalked off. “Do try to be more careful with your mom’s things. They’re all you’ve got left of her now, after all.”
My eyebrows rose at that guts it would take to say that in casual conversation, and the rest of the girls dispersed as well. “Well. She seems like a right cunt.” Taylor’s head jerked towards me, her jaw mouth hanging open once more. “Still, if you don’t actually play in the band, it might be best to not keep that here if it’s that important to you. Winslow has proved to be nothing more than a dump so far.”
They visibly shook away their surprise—not used to swearing?—and asked, “Are you… new here?”
“Yuuup,” I replied, dragging out the word and popping the ‘p.’
“Then you don’t…” They sighed and started to walk away. “Thank you again, but, you shouldn’t have stood up for me. Just keep your distance.”
I’d been ready to ask about a reward, but listening to them say that with such abject dejection made the words die on my lips. Taylor trudged over to the closest women’s bathroom—Going with ‘girl’—to presumably wash off the case, and I decided to just let things be. I was about to make ten grand, so it wasn’t worth being pushy with someone so down on their spirits. Instead I turned back the way I came, made my way back to the roof, and retrieved my coins and mask from my bag.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
I had an appointment to keep.
----------------------------------------
If the flaring lights and thrumming beat had made Palanquin seem alive the first time I visited it at night, then the utter lack of noise and movement made the nightclub dead in comparison now during the day.
Palanquin hadn’t yet come to life yet if the utter lack of noise and movement was any indication, but there was still a bouncer guarding the entrance. Seemed like it was the same guy, actually. Not that I interacted with him last time, what with having entered the club through the loading dock. The card I’d been given my first night here said to be here by 5p, and I didn’t need to check my analog watch to know it read 4:52—one of the silly, tiny perks of my power. I touched down on the sidewalk a handful of yards away from the bouncer and crossed the rest of the distance on foot. Once I was closer, the bouncer pulled open the door and held it for me, clearly expecting my arrival. “Boss is in her office. Please wait on the balcony, and I’ll let her know you’re here.”
I gave him a brief nod and murmured, “thanks,” as I stepped inside. Having a guy hold the door for me made a small warmth blossom in me. It was silly and not at all feminist, but it felt still felt like validation, even if he hadn’t probably meant it that way.
The interior of the club was well lit, but even if the lights had been dim, it would have been hard to miss the balcony stairs much less Newter as he waved at me with a grin while leaning against the balcony. “Yo! You came!”
I started walking towards him with a grin of my own, not that he could see it through my new mask, and replied, “Well yeah, of course I did. How’s it hanging, Newter?”
He flipped over the balcony guardrail, slapped his hands on the base of the balcony, and swung underneath it before somehow clinging to the underside of the balcony. “Well now that I’m hanging, all seems fine,” he answered with a chuckle.
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me, his humor infectious. “Awesome! I didn’t realize you could do that too!”
He winked. “There’s a lot more to me than meets the eye.”
The innuendo made me blush a bit, and I couldn’t quite meet his eye as I diverted, “So, um, where is everybody else?”
“Boss is in her office, and I know Gregor’s hanging around here somewhere.” He launched off the ceiling straight to the floor and landed with preternatural grace. He bowed with a flourish and gestured towards the stairs. “Ladies first.”
Goddamn traitorous body, I bemoaned, fighting down the urge to self-consciously pull my mask up a bit higher to hide my burning cheeks. “Actually, um, I can fly now.” Ugh, that came out sounding like a question, stupid! I lifted myself up into the air as a demonstration, which elicited a whistle from him.
“Hot damn, that’s nifty. I was wondering why you had all those coins on you. Thought it was just a costume thing. I like the new mask, by the way.”
“Thanks! Flying is so cool!” I pulled the coins wrapped around me out over the empty dance floor, and feeling frisky, I pulled out the rest of my coins as well. I actually needed relatively few coins over all to fly, so I was able to easily fill most of the voluminous space over the floor with metal and set them all to swirling through the air.
“Right on! Hang tight a sec, let me get the lights,” Newter said with a laughe before racing over to the DJ stand with a swift burst of speed that reduced him momentarily to an orange blur. “Yo, got any favorites? I can put on some tunes too while we wait on Faultline.”
“Got any AC/DC?”
“Oh hell yeah, you like the classics too?” The lights turned off, briefly leaving the room dark but for some of the evening sunlight pouring in through the windows high up on the walls, but the dance lights kicked in shortly after. Rays of pink, gold, orange, blue, green, and more illuminated the area and made my coins glitter and sparkle as Newter queued up Back in Black. As the drummer tapped out the tempo on the cymbal and the guitar entered after with the familiar rift, memories came to mind of nights listening to mom’s old records and hanging out in some of the dive bars back home that would let me in. A smile grew on my face as I drank in the atmosphere, satisfaction settling within me. With just a thought, the coins began to lazily circle the dance floor in a wave, the twirling coins moving like a current at the beach but prettier by measure. This blew skulking about in bars or my own home out of the water by a long shot.
I could definitely get used to this.
“Newter, lights back on,” a voice called out over the music, and when the music cut out and the lights switched back to the basic ones from before, I saw Faultline on the balcony with Gregor slightly behind her and to her right. “Coin,” she continued, a terseness to her voice that made me pause. “We have a lot to talk about. Let’s adjourn to my office.”
“Sure,” I replied as casually as I could. I condensed my loose coins into a pile on the balcony, not bothering with my backpack for the sake of simplicity, and flew over towards the balcony myself. I gave Gregor a tiny wave as I touched down and a, “Heya, Gregor,” which drew a small smile from the man. Faultline once again wasn’t wearing a mask, and I speculated that the staff must know who she was. She spun on her heel and crossed over to a doorway off the balcony, and I followed with Gregor and Newter, who had just jumped up onto the balcony as well, behind me.
A hallway ran along the other side of the wall, but in stark contrast to the balcony, this area had stone walls. Small micro cracks crossed over sections of the walls, and torches set in sconces were littered evenly along the length of the hallway with alcoves containing strange, creepy busts of angels and demons alike spaced out between them. Standing in the middle of the hallway, staring absently at the wall to our right was a girl with long, platinum blond hair. She was around my height but looked to be a couple years younger than me, and seeing her just standing there, unnaturally still in the midst of the moody atmosphere was somewhat creepy.
“Hello, Elle. I didn’t expect you to be up.” The girl, Elle apparently, didn’t respond to that, but I didn’t hear any impatience in Faultline’s voice at the lack of reply. “Are you okay?” Still no response. “Elle, we have a guest with us today. Would you please reign in your power?”
That got my attention. Another cape running around unmasked? “So is the creepy layout her power, or did you all decide to get creative with the staff areas?”
Faultline tossed me a brief look over her shoulder, but before I could begin to decipher it, she had turned back to Elle. The girl turned more or less to face us, but she seemed to be focused on something else, her gaze distant and still not saying anything.
I tilted my head, bemused. Was the girl special needs? She certainly seemed to be. I hadn’t been around too many people like that, but I did know that you had to be extra patient when interacting with them. Patience wasn’t exactly one of my virtues, but I resolved to try. No sense not getting along with a soon-to-be teammate.
I paused a beat and debated how to introduce myself. Faultline, Newter, and Gregor had been calling me ‘Coin,’ but I didn’t care for that name that much. It was a serviceable placeholder but too bland and uninteresting to keep. That being said, I hadn’t given any thought to what my cape name should be, so I didn’t have anything picked out yet. I hesitated just a bit to give out my real name, but I was about to join the team, right? And I’d already seen everyone else unmasked, so it seemed natural they would expect me to reciprocate. I reached up to my mask and tugged it down, revealing my cautious smile. “Elle, right? It’s nice to meet you. My name is June.” The gloomy dungeon appearance around us began to bleed away and leave behind a corridor more in line with what I had been expecting when I stepped through the door. The process was fascinating to watch, and at the center of it all, Elle finally seemed to look at me, her gaze somewhat more focused. She still didn’t say anything, but I doubted it was intentional. Probably… Oh, what is the word? Nonverbal?
Faultline turned to face me in full. She had a look of surprise in her eyes that quickly settled back into a serious expression I was beginning to think was her usual mien. “I was going to wait until after our discussion to unmask and share names.”
I shrugged. “Didn’t mean to throw off your timing. I’m joining though, so it doesn’t matter, yeah?” At her carefully blank look I tensed, though I did my best to not let it show. “Faultline?”
She sighed. “Yes, that is still my intent, but the nature of the offer I made you was predicated on the assumption that you were a fresh trigger, a tabula rasa in the Bay’s cape scene. At the time I was confident in my assumption because I make it my business to keep an eye out for such things, and I had heard no word of a ferrokinetic.” Her expression shifted a bit, but I couldn’t quite read how. “However, I have reason to believe you stole from a store on the boardwalk between then and now and got into a cape fight. Another fight, if what you said to Gregor Monday is true. That changes things.”
Fresh trigger? Tabula rasa? Ferrokinetic? “I didn’t understand some of that, but I understood enough to know you’re saying I’m not getting my ten grand,” I said with a scowl as the last of the… environment Elle had made vanished. Had it been a castle? Closest thing I could think of. I bit my lip, thinking of the hormones I wanted to start and how I wanted to get actual independence instead of relying on Masuyo. I had been counting on that money. It was the main reason why I had decided to join! “Maybe I’d be better off solo after all.”
“You wouldn’t be,” she denied, shaking her head, “and that’s one of the things we need to discuss.” She paused a moment, then held out her hand. “Since you gave your name under the impression the original offer stood, it’s only fair I offer my own name in the interest of trust. My name is Melanie Fitts, and I promise that I am not trying to swindle you, June.”
My eyes narrow a bit at that, since that’s exactly what someone trying to swindle me would say and the name could easily be fake. Still… None of them seem the type to suddenly get all aggressive and force me to join. I crossed my arms, ignoring her extended hand, and replied, “I don’t like this at all, but I guess it doesn’t hurt to hear the new offer. If I don’t like it, then I’ll walk away, got it?”
Faultline lowered her hand and gave me a curt nod. “Of course. Newter, take Elle back to her room, then join us in my office.”
“Sure thing, Boss,” Newter replied, sounding remarkably casual in spite of the terse discussion. I glanced over my shoulder at him, and he shot me a grin and a thumbs up. “Love the freckles, by the way.”
Goddammit. I turned away so he couldn’t see my reaction. “Lead on, yeah?”
Faultline lead Gregor and me to the doorway at the end of the no longer transformed hall, and the office behind the doorway was a strange mixture of cluttered and organized. The heavy oak desk in the center of the room was covered in an eclectic mess of paperwork, heavy books, pens, notepads, and a laptop, but the shelves lining the back wall had a sense of order, even if the books lining them were of a variety of sizes and colors. A pair of short filing cabinets were set against the wall opposite the window, where a pair of thick curtains were drawn and completely blocking all incoming light. Two oak chairs that matched the desk sat between the door and the desk, and I flopped into one while Faultline crossed to the high backed chair on the opposite side. Gregor ignored the remaining chair in favor of standing by the file cabinets. When I looked his way, he gave me what seemed to be a reassuring look, though it was still somewhat difficult to tell with his skin even though the lighting from the overhead lamp was satisfactory.
Faultline leaned back in her chair and gave me her full attention. “Before we begin, would you prefer to go by Coin or June? Or have you chosen a cape name?”
“June. No cape name yet, and I don’t like Coin.”
“June then,” she acknowledged. “I’ll start with explaining a bit about our crew. As I mentioned when we met, we are mercenaries. Anyone can hire our services, and the only jobs we won’t do are those entailing murder or breaking the unwritten rules. Are you familiar with the rules?”
I blinked, perplexed. “Um… There are rules?”
“Yes. Different areas have slightly different variations, but in general the rules are to avoid lethal force, never rape or sexually assault anyone, and respect other capes’ secret identities. There is also a truce during Endbringer attacks, but that doesn’t apply in the day to day.” She must have seen the look on my face at the mention of secret identities because she learned forward with piercing eyes. “June… Have you broken a rule?”
I gulped. “I, um… Kinda?” Her expression darkened, and I hastily explained, “She did it first though!”
“Explain. Do not divulge any secret identities, if you uncovered one.”
I couldn’t help but fidget under the intensity of her gaze. “The day I got my powers… I, um… I was… I didn’t know who she was at the time, but Rune tried to k-kill me. She… she knew who I was, called me by… well, not my name, but…” She probably doesn’t know what a deadname is. What’s the simplest way to explain? “My, um… old name?” That’ll have to do. “Anyway, I managed to stop her when I got my powers, but she knew who I was and had hunted me down once already…”
“So you unmasked her,” she finished for me. When I nodded, she sighed minutely. “Do not tell me what her name is, if you know it, but please confirm whether you know her name as well.”
“Yeah…”
“Was that you in the video on PHO?” Gregor interjected. “A video was posted of someone in Rune’s costume stealing clothes from a merchant at the Market, but our knowledge of her power is that she must first touch the item to control it.”
I nodded. “She… t-tried to d-drown me in a car,” I only just barely managed to say, shivering at the thought of being trapped in that darkness, gasping for air and choking on water. I quickly moved on, trying to push it out of my mind. “I just moved here Saturday, and I didn’t know how to get to my cousin’s. I was wet and cold and had nowhere to sleep… I stole some clothes and ended up here because it caught my eye.”
“You don’t need to say anything more about your trigger event,” Faultline said, drawing my attention back to her.
There was that word again. “You said something about a ‘trigger’ before too. What does that mean?”
“Think of it like the worst day of your life—a do-or-die moment, pure despair when something awful happens, or something similar. Something about the event ‘triggers’ powers in an individual. Avoiding discussion of trigger events is not an unwritten rule, per se, but it’s considered bad taste to ask about one.” She leaned back in her chair once more, but there was still a measure of focused awareness in her eyes. “There was a robbery of a store on the boardwalk yesterday where several items including a safe and cash registers were lifted by an unseen force and smashed through a wall. I trust that was you?” I nodded hesitantly. “A cape fight between a ferrokinetic and Lung and Oni Lee occurred sometime last night as well. Also you?”
“Right,” I affirmed, putting together from context clues that ‘ferrokinetic’ was probably a description of my powers. “That… I was defending myself, honest!”
“I didn’t say you weren’t. Briefly describe the fight for me. How it started, went, and ended.”
“Um… I was looking for somewhere to stash the safe from the store, and I saw a burst of fire up by the train tracks. I got curious, and when I checked it out, they saw me and attacked. Lee kept trying to dogpile me with clones, and Lung was scary as fuck. I managed to use the metal from the safe to trap Lung, and Lee was easy enough after since I could sense him.”
“Ah… You sensed the metal on him? The grenades and knives?”
“Uh huh.”
“Tell me, June, why do you think Lee was trying to dogpile you?”
That confused me. Why would that matter? “I dunno?”
“You don’t see it?”
“See what?”
“June, they wanted to recruit you.”
My jaw dropped. I had been worried I would be recruited by the ABB—it was why I’d paid more attention to them than the Empire at first—but it hadn’t occurred to me that was what they were doing that night. “Shit.”
Her lips twitched into a ghost of a smirk before vanishing so quickly I almost wrote it off as a trick of the mind. “Indeed. I should think it’s needless to say that recruiting you into our group when you have attracted the attention of not just one but two of the city’s big gangs is… a more interesting proposition than recruiting someone who is a relative unknown.”
“So… you don’t care about me making off with the safe and registers?”
“Comparatively no. I’m sure the PRT would not be pleased, but no worse so than they are when we’re paid to perform criminal activities.”
There was a knock at the door. Faultline bade them enter, and Newter came in and sank into the free chair, glancing between Faultline and me. “So what’s the word? Is she joining?”
Faultline steepled her fingers before her. “We were just getting to that. June, my offer is this: You are welcome to join our crew, but I will not be paying a signing bonus. Some of our clients may view hiring you as a risky proposition with the heat from the E88 and ABB, so that money will go towards covering any gap. You will avoid getting into any more cape fights outside of those we encounter on the job. You will still get an equal cut of all work that we take on as a crew, though I will deduct a small portion of your cut until the costs of your costume are covered. Does this all make sense?”
I gave her a careful nod. As much as I hated to admit it, I did see her point. If the gangs still had it out for me, then recruiting me was a gamble for them. That didn’t make it any better that I was losing out on the money, but if the jobs paid enough and I got an equal cut, then I would still have a healthy amount of money coming my way. Plus I would have a team at my back if… no, more likely when the gangs came after me. I worried my lip then asked, “How much money are you paid for the average job? How often do you get them?”
She waggled her hand in a so-so motion. “It’s easier to note that we don’t take jobs that pay less than fifty thou. We generally have a job at least once a month.”
My eyebrows shot up. Faultline, Gregor, Newter, Elle, and me. That meant, “Five way split?”
“Barring more members joining, yes.” I wasn’t great at math, but fifty grand divided by five was easy to figure out. Ten grand minimum every month or so? That was serious money.
Faultline looked considering for a moment before adding, “It’s worth noting that travel is involved on a semi-frequent basis. You mentioned you live with a cousin?”
“Just met her,” I said waving that off. “If you’ve got a place for me here, then I’m outta there.”
“You should not be so quick to abandon family,” Gregor interjected. “Are you certain you wish to cut ties?”
I shrugged. “I’m not saying I’m cutting entirely ties. I’m just saying I’d rather live here, see her only when I want—on my terms.”
“We can spare the room,” Faultline said, the corner of her lips turning up ever so slightly. “You’ll be joining then?”
I grinned. “Definitely.”
Newter fistpumped the air with a cry of “hell yeah!” and Gregor gave me a small smile. Faultline stood and held out her hand once more.
This time, I shook it without reservation.