“So what exactly makes you think we’ll just sit down and eat this shit-sandwich?” The man who asked that didn't exactly look, at first glance, like a typical Touched, Fell or Star. Most of them went for much fancier costumes than his own baggy jeans, two layers of shirts, and leather jacket. Even if everything he wore did have enough nasty words and phrases written across them to consistently get almost his entire form blurred out every time he appeared on television. The only real indicator that he wasn’t just another typical gangbanger was the full head-covering green metal helmet he wore, with an image of a man’s face wearing sunglasses etched across the front.
At the moment, the man was sitting in an old, busted-up office chair inside a laundromat. His feet were up on one of the dirty, half-broken cardboard tables nearby, having nearly snapped the thing in half just by none-too-gently bringing his boots down on it. “Personally, I ain’t quite that hungry.”
In truth, the man wasn’t just any old thug, but was actually Sockinit, one of the few who remained out of the Easy Eights leadership Touched. It had been a rough time for the gang lately, with three of their number betraying them and taking their own loyal troops along with. Which had been followed by the sudden and unexpected death of their actual leader. Deicide was gone, and she had been one of the only people with enough power and drive to keep the remaining members of the Easy Eights together. If they should even still be called that at all after most of three of their gangs had turned traitor.
Sockinit was one of those remaining lieutenants. The other four were scattered throughout this room. A few feet away, next to one of the dryers, stood a short man, just a few inches over five feet, in brown and green body armor with a black ski mask and football helmet covering his head. That was Landlock. Another man, almost as short and even skinnier, stood by an old pinball machine that clearly hadn’t worked in years (much to his annoyance after initial excitement when he’d seen it). He wore a green bodysuit with white highlights and a white ski mask, going by the name Pivotal.
Of the two women in the group, the one leaning against the glass window next to the door was Skadi. She was an athletic-looking figure in white tiger-print pants, a black leather jacket with the emblem of a tiger’s face on the front and the claw mark that indicated members of her part of their gang on the back, and a silver hard metal mask that had three small holes for her eyes and mouth. The front of the mask currently had the image of a red wolf’s face etched into it, though the woman could change the pictured animal at any point. Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, a tall black woman with long braided hair stood wearing nothing more than a white bodysuit. She was Angel Dust, and the majority of her costume in the field tended to be made up of various-shaped armor made out of her own power. In casual situations like this, she didn’t bother. She was also the only member of their small group who wasn’t covering her face at all.
The reason the others still wore their identity-obscuring helmets and masks was the last person in the room, the one Sockinit had been addressing. Grandstand, in her circus ringmaster outfit, was perched cross legged on top of one of the washers, idly letting a small knife spin through her fingers. She was silent at first, seemingly more focused on squinting at the nearby sign telling people not to leave their wash unattended and that the facility wasn’t responsible for lost or stolen items, than in either the man’s question or the fact that all of them were staring at her. She appeared to be ignoring them, lost in thought.
Skadi, making a soft growl under her breath that seemed to match that of the wolf face on her helmet, spoke sharply. “You’ve requested an audience, we gave it to you out of curiosity. If you fail to have even the basic decency to answer my colleague’s reasonable question, I think we can be done here and move on. Whether we move on violently or amicably is entirely up to you.”
“Yeah, what she said.” That was Landlock, grumbling in annoyance. “I thought it was funny when you sent that message talking about taking up leadership in Deicide’s place. Figured we could get a good laugh out of you trying to convince us that putting one of our biggest fucking enemies in charge of our people. But if you ain’t even gonna say anything, it ain’t funny anymore. It’s annoying.” His hand closed into a fist to punch the dryer next to him. “Really fucking annoying.”
Angel Dust, that single unmasked figure who didn’t care if this woman knew what she looked like, raised a finger toward the others for caution and peace. Then she spoke to their seemingly distracted guest. “They’re right, you did ask for this face to face. We assumed you would have a very compelling argument for why we should even allow the former right hand of our chief rivals and most dangerous enemy to join us, let alone lead us.” She coughed in disbelief at the thought.
Finally, after idly looking at the blade she was still spinning through her fingers, Grandstand gave it a toss to one side. The weapon whistled through the air before embedding itself deep into the wall. She hopped down, landing lightly on her feet before speaking up for the first time since they had all arrived. “Let’s take those two questions separately, shall we? First, why I should be part of your group despite, as you put it, having been the right hand of your worst enemy. I would think it should be patently obvious, but let’s spell it out anyway. You said it yourself, former right hand. He hates me as much, if not even more, than he hates all of you. I made him look bad, I put my own needs, my own anger at the one who killed my friend, over Oscuro as a whole. I did what I wanted to do, damn any of the consequences. He’s angry with me because he can’t let that stand. He can’t allow someone to completely disregard his orders and make him look weak. That’s why I need another group to join. You’re already his enemies. And these recent events have left you weaker and more vulnerable. I need a group to join, people to work with, and you need more Touched to bolster your ranks. It makes perfect sense for all of us to work together. You should be well aware that our conflict was never personal on my part. I did my job.”
Pivotal made a considering noise that was clearly at least slightly exaggerated while tapping his chin through the white ski mask. “That sounds good and all, but if we’re so weak and defenseless now, such a ripe target for your old boss to take out any time he wants to, why would you even want to throw yourself on the plate for him to snatch up too? Seems to me like the smart thing for you to do would be to get the hell out of this city entirely to stay out of his reach.” He paused pointedly, staring at her for a long moment before adding, “Or maybe…”
“Or maybe the other smart thing to do would be to prove yourself useful to him.” That was Sockinit, who stood and pointed at her. “You know, by tricking the remaining leaders of his biggest enemies into coming to one spot. Or by proving how stupid they are by trusting you at all, just so you can find out all our secrets and maneuver all our people into one more ambush.”
“You know, you’re right,” Grandstand agreed casually while walking over to where she had thrown the knife. “Tricking the last of his most dangerous enemies into an ambush might be enough to make Cuélebre forgive that sort of embarrassment, especially if I did so in a way that made him laugh. And let’s be honest, getting you to make me your leader just so I could serve you up to the big guy and completely wipe out your entire gang--or what’s left of it-- in one move would be something he’d find utterly hilarious.” She let that hang in the air for a moment before giving a slight shrug of one shoulder. “If he still saw you as his worst enemies. I mean, let’s face it, Deicide was the biggest threat out of all of you. Not just because of her power, but her drive. She was the one who kept you all together, who made eight separate gangs work as one for so long. Until, well, she didn’t anymore. Now three of your lieutenants and most of their people are gone, and Deicide herself is dead. No, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Cuélebre doesn’t see you as a threat anymore. He figures he’ll get around to wiping you out the rest of the way at some point, but it’s not exactly a priority. In his mind, you’re basically crippled for good. Not people to worry about, not people to devote a lot of effort toward unless you put yourselves in his way. If I served you up, he’d probably laugh at me. You know, before taking my head right off for insulting him by acting like he even needed my help to deal with what’s left of your little gang.”
Her words were blunt, making most of the assembled group flinch or scowl. Skadi, however, gave a short, amused laugh. “You do get right to the heart of the matter without holding back. I like that, at least.” She examined her gloved hand, making a metal claw pop out of the finger of one. “Most in your situation would be a bit more diplomatic about it, if they truly wanted to join us.”
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“I think honesty is the best policy in this case,” Grandstand informed her. “And the truth is, you’re fucked if you stay on your own, without help. But the other part of the truth is that so am I, if I stay in the city. I can’t use my power constantly, I can’t be on guard all the time. I need people to back me up. And you all need someone who can help you get strong again, someone who can help make sure Cuélebre doesn’t take whatever brief amount of time and effort it would take to finish the job. That’s not an insult--it’s not meant as an insult. It’s just the truth. If we’re separate, he and the rest of Oscuro can finish us off. Hell, he’s got an entire new gang of allies now, with the Trendscendants. Yeah, it’s a stupid name, but they’re still dangerous, and they owe him plenty. He’s got his own gang, the Trends, and enough friends in and favors from the Ninety-Niners to send three full fucking gangs at you and at me if he decides to finish either job. So let’s be completely real on that. If we don’t work together, we’ll just go down that much easier. Or flee.”
“I mean, you’re a pretty strong Touched,” Landlock allowed thoughtfully. “And you’re right, we do need as much help as we can get. Come on, I think we’re all mature enough to admit that, right?” He gave a quick glance to his fellow Easy Eights Touched before letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s fucked, really. The whole situation is. We could take off, leave, go find a new place to set up shop. But I don’t want to. I don’t wanna let those Oscuro fucks or those traitors get away with this. That’s the big thing. Cuélebre’s bad enough, but Janus, Devil’s Due, and Juice? Those motherfuckers need to pay. If we fall apart now, or just leave, they’ll get away with turning traitor. I won’t stand for that.”
His words were met with murmured agreement from the rest of the group. Angel Dust gave a very soft smirk before turning to face the woman who had called them there. “I guess what we’re trying to say is that we know it’s a risk. But under the circumstances, we need to take some big swings if we’re gonna salvage this. So sure, I think we can agree to having you join us. But that isn’t the same as letting you step into Deicide’s spot. Joining the gang and taking over are two very different things. So why don’t you give us an idea of why we’d ever even consider that?”
Grandstand tapped her finger against the wall next to the knife thoughtfully. She made a soft humming sound while looking back at the other woman. “Well, we could get into a whole thing about which of us could beat up the others, but honestly, that's not helpful for anyone involved. Except maybe for Cuélebre. I'm sure he'd love it if we kicked the shit out of each other until he didn't even have to bother lifting a finger. Personally, I'd rather not make it that easy for him.”
She let that sit in the air for a moment before continuing. “Here's what it actually comes down to. You each have your own parts of the gang. You lead your own smaller gangs, like governors inside a state. The ones who are left, the ones who didn't defect with your traitor companions, and are going to be very sensitive about any side that's left getting some boost over the others. They're watching you and each other very closely. Take it from someone who can watch people herself without being noticed. The point is, if any single one of you takes leadership of this entire organization, the members of the other parts will think that that lieutenant’s people are getting an unfair share of everything. They'll think they're getting screwed. Not all of them, but enough to make things even more difficult, enough to cause more problems that none of us need now.”
With that, she gestured at each of them pointedly. “That's the biggest problem you all had before Deicide showed up in the first place. None of you could decide on who your leader should be. You were all fighting each other so much it let Cuélebre tear right through several other gangs just like you, groups who might have actually joined up if they weren't wiped out before you even got as far as discussing an alliance. And even when you did, you were all still fighting each other about who would lead. Then Deicide came in and took the choice right out of your hands. The only reason you became as effective as you were for so long, before the betrayal, was because you had someone from outside each of your gangs as your leader. Deicide wasn't from any individual part of your organization. She came in from the outside and took over. None of your separate little states could claim she was one of them. That's what you need, an outsider strong enough to maintain control and without the baggage of being tied to one of your individual groups. You need someone who can genuinely be seen as neutral to be in charge.”
Pivotal laughed. “I mean, sure, a lot of what you said makes sense, I guess. But you really think our people will see you as neutral? The person who, as we sort of already mentioned, was the second in command of our worst enemy? That's the person they're supposed to accept as being a neutral party to lead them into battle without getting them killed or thrown in prison?”
Skadi gave a soft grunt of agreement. “He's got a point. I mean, so do you, but how are we supposed to sell that our people should trust you in particular for anything? Hell, it’d be a hard enough thing to make them trust you as part of the gang, let alone as the person making the big decisions. You were right when you said we really don't need to give our people any more reason to argue or stop trusting each other. So how are they supposed to trust you, exactly?”
“That's a fair question,” Grandstand acknowledged easily. “Part of it's going to have to be me proving myself bit by bit, moment by moment, battle by battle. But here's the thing, you know that he sees me as a traitor. In his eyes, I already turned against him. So I might as well go all the way and fight with you, because I'll be dead otherwise. I want you to succeed. I want you to win. I need you to win. I need you all to survive. The stronger Cuélebre gets, the harder it's going to be to do anything in this city without his approval, without his people breathing down our necks. Do you want to know why you and your people should trust me? Because I am motivated. I'm just as motivated as any of you, and I have just as much to lose, if not more.”
She pivoted on one heel, leaning against the wall. “But beyond that, I know him. Like you said, I was his second in command. I was right there while he plotted against you and your people. I was right by him when he made every plan. I know how he thinks. I know how he fights. I know how he functions. Setting aside the issue of trust, because quite frankly, at some point you're just going to have to take that leap, I am the best choice you have because without my help, he will finish dismantling your entire organization. He has all the momentum, all the allies, all the power right now. He has everything he needs to finish you off whenever he wants. You need to turn the tables. You need to punch him in the nose and make him feel it. You need to take the rug out from under him and put him on the defensive. Take his momentum away before he completely runs over you. You need to turn things around before it's too late. I can help you do that. You don’t know how your people will be able to trust me? Let them see what I can do for them. Let me show them how I can stem the bleeding your group has been suffering from ever since three of your other leaders proved how much you couldn’t trust them.”
The others seemed to consider her words and looked at one another for a minute before Angel Dust spoke up. “So, you really think you can turn things around and give us some sort of advantage even though he's one of the strongest Touched in the state and basically has three whole gangs he can throw at us if he wants to? And let's not forget that several members of one of those gangs used to be our comrades, so they already know everything that we do.”
Grandstand gave a soft chuckle. “That would be another reason why you need an outsider to take over. Those traitors might know you, but they don't know me. Even Cuélebre doesn't know me as well as he thinks. And what he does know, all of you can help cover. We help each other. And I can start helping you with this.” Pivoting, she lashed out, kicking hard into and through the wall she had thrown the knife into. Her foot left a hole, revealing a large hidden space that had been lightly covered by a thin wall. Inside was an assortment of what looked like powerful Touched-Tech guns, several dozen of them.
“I put supplies away for a rainy day, during our heists, before Braintrust could claim them,” she announced while the others were staring. “They should help give a bit of a boost against the Oscuro troops who have been trying to poke their noses into Eights territory. Take them back to your people.
“Or… dare I say… our people?”
An agreement was tentatively struck. Time would tell if it would work out, but for now, the remaining Easy Eights (they really were going to have to do something about that name) lieutenants would go back to their people and tell them about the plan. From there… well, they’d all just have to see.
After watching all of them leave, Setrea spoke without turning away from the front door. “Well, I think that went well enough. Which means I did my part. You wanted me to take over for Deicide, and we’re on our way to that. I’m keeping the gang intact. Now it’s your turn. You said you had information about… my world. And that you’d explain how you even know I’m from another world.”
“Well that’s easy enough to answer, Setrea,” a voice replied casually, as a figure emerged from a hidden door next to one of the dryers. And the figure wasn’t alone. Even as Setrea noticed the reflection in the glass and spun with an audible gasp, she saw that the other woman was indeed accompanied by her own ghost-like companion, a Manifestation just like Setrea's own Alistae (who gave her the ability to shift peoples' attention) and Deunmar (who granted her brief invulnerability). This ghost was another of the sixteen champions. Piend, the Blacksmith and Tinkerer. This woman… this woman was Manifesting, just like Setrea did. Which meant… which meant…
“I know about your world,” the ‘Touched’ known as Glitch, leader of Braintrust, informed her, “because it’s my world too.”