Job Training

My alarm woke me up at seven fifteen. For a moment I stayed blearily in bed, wondering why I hadn't woken up as usual when Dad took his shower.

Then I remembered everything. Sophia, the infiltration, the battle. Even the meeting at the restaurant afterward.

Oh boy, I said to myself. No wonder I slept through Dad's morning routine. At least I feel rested.

I'd be late if I lazed any more, so I forced myself to slip out the covers as start getting ready.

Thirty minutes later, I was on my way to school while mentally going over what I needed to work on in my new cape life. The two most important aspects were information and costume.

I'd been lucky the day before, with the Undersiders. Grue hadn't pushed and tried getting my civilian identity, and while Tattletale knew how I looked, I knew the same for her, putting us on somewhat the same level. I was pretty sure this was an exception more than anything, and that fortune would not smile on me a second time.

I needed a costume pronto.

Information was less urgent, but still necessary. I needed to verify Tattletale's claims before I did anything, but she'd at least proven that I needed to know a lot more if I wanted to be effective as a cape. I knew the websites to go to, the places to check. Now I just needed to put the time.

The grounds of Winslow were filled with students coming in when I arrived there. I was somewhat later than was usual for me, though not enough to be concerned about lateness. Around me, boys and girls were chatting, reading or some even doing homework, alone or in groups. A quick scan of the crowd revealed no Emma and none of her trio, and I released a breath I'd been holding. I wasn't in the mood for that, not today.

Not that I've ever been, I said sarcastically to myself.

I made my way to my locker carefully. After what had happened, I couldn't help but be paranoid there. I caught sight of Emma's red haired curls, completely on the other side of the room. Not close enough to try anything, thankfully.

Then I opened my locker.

The smell it me like a hammer. Rot, decay. I realized rationally that this wasn't like the last time, that the smell wasn't as powerful, but I still had to hold myself back, both to stop my breakfast from coming back up, and from having a flashback. I griped the sides of the locker, forced myself to stay up, and looked.

Meat.

There were thin openings on the locker doors, which students often used to slip messages. Someone, and I didn't have to go far to guess, had slipped leftover meat through that hole into my locker.

I turned around instantly, expecting an attack like the last, but none came. The trio was still where I had seen them last, all of them looking straight in my direction.

It had simply been a reminder. A warning.

I could see them clearly from here. Emma was standing straight and smirking, clearly the mastermind of this plot. Madison was hunched over, laughing herself silly. And Sophia was mad. Really, really mad.

She had circles under her eyes and her hair wasn't as well coifed as usual, and she looked like she wanted to kill someone.

I flashed back to the discussion I had with Lisa yesterday, and understood. She'd told me a person's powers were part of their identity, and I understood that, rationally. She'd also told me I had stolen Shadow Stalker's powers. Stolen, not copied. I could still feel them in the back of my head.

Only now did I really get it.

I belatedly realized that, if Sophia released a form of stress through cape activities, she no longer had that pressure valve to work with. She would have to do so in other ways.

I had a good idea how it would go.

I left my locker open, heading straight for class. The janitors would find it and deal with it.

Rushing for the relative safety of my English class, I stopped in the door. Someone had dropped Coke all over the desk and chair I usually used, and most other seats were already taken. The only ones left I knew would put me in close range with the trio, once they took their own seats.

"Out of the way, loser," came Sophia's voice from behind me. I didn't even have time to turn before someone pushed me tight in the direction of the doorframe. I tried stopping my momentum, but still ended up knocking my head on the frame.

Using my hands to push myself back up, I rose to see my tormentor looking at me straight in the eyes.

"Get lost, loser. We don't need you here," she said, then spit to my face. She was still mad, visibly.

I was struck with the childish instinct to spit back, but I held back, not wanting to fall down to her level.

Taking a deep breath, I was stuck with an epiphany.

I realized I was wasting my time here.

My grades were down, I'd missed an entire month of classes, and even before that I was lucky if I could submit homework or projects undamaged and on time. I wasn't really learning anything and my stress levels were shooting up as soon as school came to mind.

I didn't have to deal with this. Especially not with Sophia being on an anger kick.

I turned and walked out. There had to be a better solution, high school equivalency, anything other than going back. I hated giving up, and this felt like it, but I'd already done the worst thing that I could to Sophia and if she even figured it out, I was dead.

Not dealing with it again was better.

I kept on toward home.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

At home, I pointedly decided to focus on cape stuff. I needed to forget I'd even decided to go to Winslow this morning, and working on my powers was the best alternative I had. I had quite a bit of time to do so, my father wouldn't be back until five at earliest.

First up, costume.

I raided my wardrobe, taking out everything that wasn't ordinary clothes. It was a painfully small pile, but it had one interesting item. It was a hooded cloak from an old Halloween costume where I'd gone out to a corporate party as Death. It was a little too small now and something had dropped on the back, ruining most of the bottom, but careful cutting had a quite serviceable hood detached. Best of all, it came with an integrated veil. I tested it, and my face was invisible behind the cloth. Perfect fit with my current shadow powers.

The rest wasn't anything I could see myself as wearing. Old costumes, Sunday clothing, dresses. I would die before going to a fight in a dress.

That image gave me an idea. I slipped in my dad's room and looked into his closet. My father, due to his work, had a good number of similar suits for important events. The both of us were about the same size, so this could work. Going through them, I took a pair of clean but comfortable work pants in black, along with a black dress shirt and matching jacket. I had to play a little with the cuffs of both top and bottom.

The end result was that I looked like a professional, like a lawyer or banker, with a hidden face in a hood. Best part was that, with what little figure I had, it was impossible to tell if I was a man or a woman. That should help obscure things a bit. Only thing missing for that was a good pair of gloves, and I was set.

It would be a little too hot when came the summer months, but it was perfect for the current mid-February. If needed, I'd make a new costume then.

I stocked everything in my backpack, removing all of my school items. They wouldn't be of use.

Second part was gathering information.

My father kept issues of the town's newspaper for some time, and it had a cape section. A perfect place to start getting up to date with the new world I was part off.

An hour later, I had made quite a bit of headway. Tattletale's info about the Merchants was true, at the very least. Skidmark had been arrested for a good number of drug and cape-related offences, only to be broken out of prison before his trial even started. The article noted it was his second arrest for similar charges in two years, so he visibly wasn't repentant. They had been a good blurb of info about his actions, which put his territory in parts of the Shantytown and the Boat Graveyard.

For the others, like ABB and the Empire, I'd need more than a few newspapers. A trip to the library was going to be a good way to spend the afternoon, it seemed. But first, dinner.

I walked to the kitchen and found myself face to face with my father, coming in from behind the house. His eyes went wide as he saw me.

"Taylor?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I wasn't ready for that confrontation. It'd sometimes skipped school last year, when the bullying had gotten too bad, but it had been a while ago and my dad had never known.

But now, there was no way of putting the genie back in the bottle. I simply lowered my head in shame.

"Taylor, what..." he started, then stopped. I couldn't see his face, but I saw his entire body tense. His hand came up to my face, and a surge of fear went through me. Then, a spot of pain, short-lived.

"Taylor, where did you get that?!" he cried out, his tone rising in anger.

It took me a second to realize what he meant. My hand reached up to my forehead, and I found there a somewhat sizable bump, bleeding a little at my touch.

I'd completely forgotten about Sophia's last hit. I was so focused on leaving that I hadn't even realized I was wounded.

Dad was visibly rigid, trying to hold onto his temper. He took a deep breath and started speaking slowly. "You're not going back there," he said, voice hard and unyielding.

Even though it was exactly what I planned, I couldn't help but feel a surge of outrage at his intrusion into what I considered my affairs. "But..."

"But nothing!" he said, raising his voice. Before I could say anything, he gathered me in his arms and hugged me. "I can't do this, Taylor. I can't let you go there, and fear a call from the police or the hospital all the time." His voice was wet with tears. "I'm not that strong."

I felt guilty right there of everything I hid from my father. He was a good man, a good father, and I never doubted he loved me. I felt ashamed of what I had forced him through.

"We'll find something else. I... I have some contacts. We'll find a solution. You don't need to talk about it. Don't need to think about it. Just tell me you won't go," he continued.

I knew his contacts, and knew they didn't amount to much. But here, in my father's arms, I couldn't tell him no. It would break him, and he'd already been broken enough by mom's death.

"...Ok." I finally answered after a minute.

"Really?!" he said, sounding surprised. "Promise?"

"Really. I promise." I had better things to do with my time.

Only then did Dad stop hugging me. He rose again, and I could see his eyes were full of unshed tears. He passed his hand over them, then smiled a little. "So, had any plans for the afternoon?" he asked, visibly trying to change the subject.

Actually, I do, I realized. "I thought I'd go over to the library. Had a few subjects I wanted to do some research on."

"Not without doing something about that," he said, pointing. I had again forgotten about the bump on my forehead.

Dad dragged me into the washroom and took his time cleaning and bandaging the wound. I let him work, knowing that it helped him keep control of himself. I ended up with a small square band-aid a little north of my right eye, and my father was visibly more calm and collected.

My father then went into the fridge and drew out his lunchbox. "Mind having some company on the way there?"

I didn't, and told him so. The both of us walked, with him discussing what was happening on the docks at the time. It was just words to pass the time, really, but I still smiled. My father would never change.

He even waited until I was inside before continuing on his way to work.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Three hours later, I had a pile of notes before me.

Tattletale had been right, at least as far as I could see.

The parahumans wiki had enough links to information that I could track the main moves of the gangs in Brockton Bay without much difficulty. And every attack by the Protectorate meant the same from the opposite gang. Not that territory seemed to change much, these days.

Case to point: Lung had beaten back the Protectorate in mid-November, and on the next day there was gang warfare in the ABB territories closest to the Empire. The ABB struck back, Lung smashing an E88 safe house the next day, along with unspecified rumors of a E88 parahuman being taken out. The next two weeks had more of the same, until things calmed down in early December. In the end, the lines hadn't changed.

The Merchants were another deal. They tried striking here and there, trying to gather more influence, and were beaten back the very same day. Squealer was reported wounded after a fight between ABB and the Merchants, and the Empire had enough parahumans to spare that every raid made in E88 territory ended up in failure.

I also learned why the Protectorate didn't strike hard and eliminate the entire opposition. On the Empire side, it was simple numbers. The E88 had access to as many if not more capes than the Protectorate, and that is if you included the Wards. Not a fight you wanted to get into if you had any other choice. The damage would be enormous, and the Protectorate wouldn't survive the losses that would probably be inflicted on both sides.

The ABB, on the other hand, had Lung.

Reading about Lung was scary. Coming to Brockton Bay, he'd challenged the entire Protectorate here alone and made them back off by himself. And that wasn't the worst he'd done. Rumor had it that he'd been present in Kyushuu, that he'd went toe to toe with Leviathan, and that the Endbringer had been the one to withdraw from the fight.

He simply was a monster.

And I wasn't going to try myself on that, not without a least a dozen plans. He'd probably survived enough attempts at assassination and the like that he'd be ready for someone like me, somehow. No, I would go with what Lisa had suggested. The Merchants were a plague, and I could deal with them.

One at the time. The rest would have to be dealt in their turn.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

It had been somewhat easy to keep in control of my emotions while Taylor walked beside me. I just focused on her smile, on making her laugh, and I could keep my anger at bay. Now that she was gone and I was on my way back to work, my emotions were surging once again at the idea of my precious daughter being hurt. And I didn't try holding them back this time.

I was PISSED.

The school had promised they'd clean up their act. It had taken only two days to prove them liars. TWO DAYS. And worse was that I knew my daughter. She wasn't one to cry at every scratch, to run after a single strike. Anything that would have made her run home was dangerous enough that she feared for herself.

I was willing to bet it was related to the locker event.

By now I was back at the Docks, and barely a minute later I stood outside the offices of the association. I'd not saluted or paid attention to anyone on the way, not wanting to direct my temper against them.

I could hear the workers talking in the background. "Someone released the Demon!" one said, then pretended he'd done no such thing. On my side, I pretended not to hear.

Even though they were talking about me.

The 'Demon' was my nickname with the dockworkers. I came from something one had said seeing my reaction to another of the manpower cuts, and it had stuck.

It was a funny thing, in a way. Here, on the Docks, the fact that I had a temper was excused, if not respected. Dockworkers tended to be simple men and women, direct ones, and they had no issue with such releases of emotions, as long as they found valid targets. When working with the mayor and other such politicians, however, it was seen as a weakness. One should always be in control.

I personally thought whoever could stay in control while their child was attacked was either a cruel person, or an idiot.

As I entered my office, my aide, Mike, came to me with a folder. An ex-Dockworker, he knew me well enough that my face held no secret from him. Not today. He went white as a sheet, then raised his voice. "Danny, you OK?"

"No." I wasn't in the mood for social niceties.

"What happened?" he asked. "You didn't look that way this morning."

"Taylor. And the school," was the only answer I gave. I was thinking hard, trying to find a way of punishing those that hurt my daughter. I wasn't interested in solutions right now, I just wanted to hurt those who had hurt mine. Especially after they'd promised otherwise.

Mike's eyes grew wide. "Again?!" he said. "Is it..." He started.

"No, it isn't has bad as last time," I cut him off. "Just a simple wound. It's just that it isn't stopping; That's the issue."

He stood silent for an instant. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he finally said.

"No, there..." I started, then something came to mind. It wasn't what I wanted to do, in fact I would have to swallow my pride to do it, but Taylor was worth more than that.

She was worth everything.

"Actually, can you cover for me today? I have an errand to do, as soon as I can," I asked, bowing my head slightly.

"Go," he said. "I have two kids. I know they come first."

"Thank you Mike," I said, smiling somewhat. "I'll be back as soon as I can," Then I walked out once more.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Forty minutes later, I stood before my target. I took a deep breath, and tried not to notice how much I didn't fit in this environment, especially in my current clothes. I took another, then walked inside.

The secretary at the desk didn't wait a second before speaking up. "Welcome to the offices of Barnes, Holmes & Mason. What can we do to help you?"

"Would it be possible to speak to Alan Barnes?" I asked. "Tell him that Danny Hebert would like to talk to him."

"One moment please," she said, reaching for her phone.

I had to wait twenty-five minutes before I was directed to Alan's office. I took another deep breath before going in.

"Danny!" he said, voice full of energy. He was standing behind his desk, but reached out and pointed at the client's chair. "Sit, sit. What can I do for you?"

I preferred standing up. "Alan," I spoke, voice clear. "I never thanked you for what you did, when Annette died. For coming and shaking some sense into me. If it wasn't for you, I would have hurt my daughter horribly at the time she needed it the least." I bowed. "So, thank you for everything you did for my daughter."

He smiled. "Think nothing of it. Our children were friends, and that's what any good friends would have done."

"I need your help again. For my daughter," I continued.

His eyes became serious. "Ask away."

"I want to prosecute the school."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't that event more than a month ago? Why come to me now?" he asked.

"Taylor went back in school yesterday, and when I went home for lunch, I found her there, bleeding from the head," I answered. "The principal told me they'd look over her, and she's coming home bleeding after not even two days. Something has to be done."

"I agree, this sounds serious," he said, then pointed to the chair again. This time, I sat. "I'm a divorce lawyer, not what you really need, but I'll see what can be done. Now, what can you tell me about her case."

"Not much." I scowled. "Taylor hasn't told me everything, and I don't want her involved in this. It's clear it's hurting her very badly, and I don't want to make it worse by pushing her."

Alan's face became harder. "You do know that this makes the case that much more difficult?"

"I suspected."

"There are still other paths that can be taken. How about…" he started.

In the end, I discussed options with Alan for a good hour and a half. I left his office with a better idea of what I could do, and the number of a good private investigator along with it. I had much to think about, but now at least I knew where I wanted to go.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

It took me a week before I was ready to hit the Merchants.

I wouldn't have been able to do it if I still had to deal with school. Hunting the Merchants meant late nights, sometimes as late as 3 AM, which made getting up at six a headache. I still did so, mainly the see my father off, then went back to bed for an extra few hours of sleep. Afternoons were left to either power training in the basement or research at the library.

As such, I'd gotten much more familiar with the way my shadow power worked. With an old video camera, I'd been able to get actual footage of my ability, which meant I had a better clue of how visible I was. The results depended of the shadow I inhabited, with the smaller the shadow the darker my presence made it. On a man-sized one, I was barely visible, while I made the shadow of an alarm clock so dark it was evident to anyone looking there that something was off.

I was also able to go through anything larger than a bathtub drain without ill effect, and could fit in smaller passages with effort. It was uncomfortable and sometimes painful, but ultimately doable. Windows were no protection from me, either.

These details were of much use in tracking down my prey. I only went out at night, when the darkness covered everything and made my access easy. Going from dealer to dealer in their territory ended up netting me quite a bit information on supply houses, safehouses and the like. I waited before hitting them, wanting my target to have no warning.

Yesterday I had lucked out; the dealer I'd been following had led me straight to Skidmark. I then followed the leader of the Merchants as he did his rounds, hidden between the wheels of his visibly tinker-made vehicle. That added half a dozen places to my growing list of Merchant hideouts. But the best was where he'd ended up parked at the end of the night.

I'd tracked him to his house. Well, house was a big word: It was an abandoned factory, though only from the outside. From the inside, it was evident there was a tinker in residence, a paranoid one too. There were traps, automated defences and sensors aplenty, though none that I could trip in shadow state. Most of them were situated at the various exits, with only a few in frequently used rooms.

That's why I was standing outside the door to Skidmark's bedroom as a patch of darkness on the ground at 1:30 AM on a weekday. The leader of the Merchants had retired more than an hour earlier, and I'd done an extensive last round of the building while I waited for the man to fall asleep. I wanted to take him down without a fight, as my power lacked offensive uses, and I didn't have the frame to get in a physical fight with him.

Luckily, there was nothing indicating either him or his partner being ready for me anywhere, so I decided that I'd finally waited enough and slipped under the door of his bedroom, slipping under the near invisible laser present there.

Compared to the rest of the place, Skidmark's bedroom was remarkably similar to any other. I slid up a wall to get a good view of the entire room, and got an eyeful of something I'd rather not have known.

Skidmark was sleeping deeply in his bed, one hand around his girlfriend, who I only knew as Squealer. It also seemed that he was a person who slept in the nude, and that moved quite a bit, judging by the state of the covers, which were hanging to the side and hiding nothing.

As a shadow, my vision was perfect in darkness, and the only light in the room, that of a wall clock, wasn't enough to disturb it. I could see and got in every detail. And neither Skidmark nor his girlfriend were good or even decent physical examples of humanity.

That's one point against attacking people while they sleep, I noted. That didn't stop me from moving at the foot of the bed, farthest from their probable lines of sight. After a last few seconds of waiting, I transformed back to human form.

And got hit with a direct hammer of stench.

Yuck! That's foul! I said to myself, instinctively covering my nose and mouth. My other state had no sense of smell, so I hadn't noticed before now.

The smell was a mix of sweat, smoke, medical smells I attributed to drugs along with a thick musky smell I was pretty sure I wanted to know nothing about. I took a second to get used to it somewhat, then removed a single glove, reached out and poked Skidmark softly in the thigh. The expected feeling of a taut wire appeared instantly in the back of my head, and I waited no time to pull, withdrawing my finger as soon as the process was done.

I now had an extra feeling down the back of my head.

Thank god, I said, releasing a mental sight at the fact that I still felt the power I had taken from Shadow Stalker. I had been afraid that I could only keep one power at the time, and that my shadow abilities would simply vanish, returning to Sophia, or be taken by Skidmark. I'd gotten used to moving around as a dark patch, and found I liked the freedom it gave me. Giving it to the leader of the Merchants would have been a waste.

I forced myself to ignore the sensation in my hindbrain, and put my finger on Squealer's leg. Again, the fishing sensation, and again I pulled.

And the world changed.

The bed frame was low quality iron, and mixing it with copper, boron and titanium in the right amount would give me a nice and rigid alloy to work with. The LED lights of the wall clock could be recycled into a much better display system. Taking the springs in the mattress...

Information after information intruded upon my mind. Belatedly, I realized the power I had taken had instantly gone active. I tried pushing it back, to regain control, and I felt whatever was in my head give way and move out. A second later, the taut line feeling returned and I realized I could only feel two powers in me now.

I had given Squealer back her power.

Well, that's interesting to know, I said to myself. Still, leaving Squealer with her power wasn't in the plan. I hadn't moved my finger yet, so I withdrew her power once more. It was as easy as the first time, and this time I managed to keep my focus on what I was supposed to be doing, and not get into how I could get materials for working.

The two parahumans before me hadn't reacted in the least yet. I knew Sophia hadn't noticed me stealing her power, but poking someone while he or she slept should be getting reactions.

Maybe they're just heavy sleepers, I said to myself. Or maybe completely stoned, I amended. Still, that allowed me the opportunity to test some more.

I kept ready to switch back into shadow, to pull powers back at the last instant, then gave them back their powers. No issue, no reaction. I wouldn't be able to tell if their power had changed somewhat because of that, but there was no difference between earlier and now. Poking both at the same time, I managed to switch their power near-instantly, giving each the other's power. Again, no reaction.

I did, however, have confirmation on the shining. Skidmark and Squealer shone when they had power, whichever powers it was, and went dull when I stole them.

Looking at the clock, I decided it was late enough, especially with the other things I had planned for tonight. I pulled the powers for the last time, then turned into shadow and left.

It wasn't the last thing I did in Skidmark's residence. I bagged whatever drugs I could find, spending the least amount of time possible in each room, and left with the safe and them, using one of the abilities I had found of my shadow power. It allowed me to transform into shadow holding onto something, regardless on its weight, and carry it any distance in the dark. It didn't work with living things, or with objects somewhat taller than me, but it had his uses, regardless of the fact that I would be forced in the same position I'd entered shadow state as.

With that, I left the safe under a tarp in the basement of my house, then went back to the second place on my list. I was much more efficient the second time around, leaving with the drugs and the money they had under five minutes. I hit eight places that night, leaving three untouched where guards were present, and went to bed before 4 AM. I left the mass of drugs in a closed office on two second floor of the farthest police station from my place, and whatever money I found next to the safe under the tarp.

I fell asleep fulfilled, for once. I'd helped clean the trash in town.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

It was four days after my successful raid that I realized I need a new place to base myself out of.

The first day after the attack, I simply rested. I'd been on a cape kick since I left school and decided I could do with a day of rest. No training, no research, just me and a good book. I'll admit it felt pretty good, that I felt more centered afterward. Having a sketch pad on the side whenever tinkering struck me also reduced pressure from that side.

Day two and three were power training. Squealer's tinker spark was easily understood, though it tended to rise up whenever something struck my mind. Skidmark's… not so much. The thing in my mind that came from him felt like the concept of space or area, combined with laws or rules. Poking it like I did with Sophia's did nothing except a very temporary activation, so I had to improvise.

I'd read on Skidmark's original ability. He could generate regions where there was a pull in a direction of his choice, so I started trying for that. No result. I tried other stuff: Imagining areas, focusing on specific rules, closing a specific space… Nothing. Skidmark's power always activated and fell silent in nearly an instant, as if I was missing something. I found out what when I finally put my hands to the ground. There it activated and remained so.

After a few tests, Skidmark's power allowed me create a closed zone by drawing it on the ground or on something else. Only one at the time, since creating a second crumbled the first, and only on stable stuff since the zone fell if whatever it was made on moved.

And there was a slider in my mind regarding that area I made. It went up or down and always started in the middle position. I could change it up or down at will, and it had a specific top and bottom.

Checking high didn't seem to have any effect, but stepping in a zone set at the very bottom made all the powers I felt in the back of my brain disappear, save Skidmark's. I could still nudge the slider while inside the zone, and I felt the sparks in my head reappear and grow stronger the more I pushed the slider up.

Interesting, I said to myself. Power nullification and empowerment.

Day four started well. I was testing for the effect of an empowering zone on my abilities. I'd already found one for its opposite: a null zone stopped the flashes of information from my tinker spark, which had been of great use in getting better sleep.

I then noticed five minutes later that I had, without realizing, started dismantling my alarm clock, which is when I decided I needed a new spot to work in. Moving the safe and the money I hadn't touched yet would also be a good idea.

Luckily for me, Brockton Bay was full of abandoned buildings, factories and the like, dating from when the city was more prosperous. There had to be one somewhere that fit the bill for me. The only problem was not stepping on anybody's toes while doing that.

After a few moments of thinking, I decided to ring Tattletale about the issue. She seemed very knowledgeable about the various gangs in the city, and could probably recommend a place where I wouldn't offend anybody. Her info up to now had been on the dot, too.

As such, I went and retrieved the cell phone she had given me. I'd hidden it, since my father would've asked too many questions. There were already a couple of text messages on it, the earliest dating from yesterday. All of them were asking for a meeting. She said she had some info to give.

It was a little after eleven, so lunch it would be.

Diner @ 1?​

I didn't have to wait even a minute before I got a reply.

Perfect. Meet @ crnr Brdw & Bchside​

Corner of Boardwalk and Beachside at 1PM, I looked again at the clock. Easily done.

OK​

I felt a smile rising. It'll be fun to be able to talk capes with someone, I realized. Talk about limited social skills when your only contact is a professional supervillain, I added sarcastically.

I then started getting ready to go. I even left a message for my father, in case I was late. I didn't want a repeat of my first night out.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I almost expected Tattletale and the rest of the Undersiders to be present on the specified corner at 1, but only Lisa was there. She reached out and gave me a hug, something which surprised me, but I admit felt quite nice.

The place she dragged me was a simple pancake house, with a table in the farthest corner of the place. With how late I tended to get up these days, I hadn't had breakfast and my order reflected that fact. Lisa's was a bit more subdued, but she compensated with large amounts of syrup and whipping cream.

"So, you had some info to give?" I asked, going straight to the point.

"Give a sec," she said, then reached inside her purse. She withdrew one of those intelligent phones and fiddled a bit with it before handing it to me.

The screen had a link for a video, titled 'Cape Bogeyman?[NSFW]'. Because of the NSFW tag, I verified the sound was off, then started the video. I trusted Tattletale not to prank me in the middle of a restaurant. It felt like it would be too simple a prank from her.

I recognized the place the video was showing.

Skidmark's room.

The video hadn't been censored, which explained the NSFW tag. It did, however, give a good view of everything, something which I could have lived without in this case.

I tried to place where the camera had been from memory and failed. One thing was sure, I hadn't noticed it while I was there.

Seeing myself appear in the video was also a shock. I had done tests with my shadow ability and knew my speed with tied to the level of darkness, but witnessing it like this made for a very different effect. It looked like I'd simply appeared at the foot of the bed. I played with the video a little and realized that's the way it was. One frame empty, the next I was there. The effect was creepy, I had to admit.

Even how I'd covered my mouth fit with the theme. From that angle, it looked like I'd taken a thinking position.

I knew how the rest went. I removed my glove, poked one, poked the other, then both.

And then the me in the video looked straight at the camera, then vanished. That effect was scarier still.

"The clock!" I said out loud, suddenly realizing.

My dinner partner stopped as she was about to reach for another bite. "What?"

"That's where the camera was, hidden in the clock," I replied, handing her back her phone. "That's why I didn't notice it." I then realized something. "Wait, who posted that video?" I asked. I doubted the Merchants would release a video like this, with the both of them in the nude.

"Coil did," Lisa answered. "I know some of his net handles, and it's one of them who released the original video. Since then, there's been a least a dozen of doppelgangers with different names, along with a few censored ones, and some with background music."

I looked at the timestamp of the video. Two days ago, I noticed. That's the day right after the attack. Someone doesn't miss much.

"The two of them haven't been seen since, and both the Empire and the ABB have been expanding in the Merchants' territory without getting any reprisal," she explained. "The Merchants are pretty much dead, right now." She smiled at me. "Good work."

Even coming from Lisa, it felt good to hear. "What's the reaction to the video?" I asked. I'd have to log in to the Parahuman wiki later, but getting the cliff notes now seemed a good idea.

"A lot of people are thinking it's a hoax of some kind, but there's a lot of discussion on the forums. There's even a few threads of people who don't want powers asking for a visit."

I was surprised. "Some people don't like their powers?" I said, my voice low.

"Well, you and I, we're the lucky ones," Lisa replied at the same level. "We can live normal lives if we want. Some of us capes, however, didn't get it that good… There's mutations, too tall people, hunchbacks… You name it, someone out there has it. A few can't even control their powers, and you can guess what that leads too."

I could. "That'll be something to think about," I said, then stayed silent for a while as I made some headway through my plate.

"I suppose you aren't done with the gangs," Lisa said after a while. "With the Merchants, I mean."

"No," I instantly answered. "And I didn't like the idea that nothing could be done about the ABB and the E88, either."

"That's not what I meant," Lisa replied. "The issue with them is that you can't start at the top, like you did with Skidmark," she explained. "There's too much danger there. That doesn't mean nothing can be done."

"Hurting the E88 and the ABB isn't going after the parahumans, it's going after the money and resources. Hitting arms depots, drug warehouses and the like. The capes might mean the groups can hit hard, but the ones doing most of the damage to the general populace aren't the capes but the henchmen, the small people. They're the ones who sell the drugs, rob stores and the like. They hide behind the capes, true, but they're the one who deal the hurt. The capes tend to fight capes, and not much else. Like I said last time, the capes have these unwritten rules and tend to respect them," she explained.

I nodded. I'd verify again, but it gave me at least a way to have an impact. Beside… I told myself. I can't see Lung or Kaiser packing or selling drugs.

Lisa hunched her head on the side. "Something else you wanted?" she asked.

That reminded me. "I need a place to work in. An abandoned factory of some sort, outside the various gang territories. Think you know a place like that?"

She smiled her vulpine grin. "One or two, why? Your place starting to be a little too small."

"Squealer was a tinker," I said, with emphasis on the 'was'.

Tattletale's eyes went a little wider. "Oh…" A smile then crept on her face. "Oh, yeah… That. I think I have something good enough in mind. Let me check it out, first. I'll message you later today with the info."

"Add to that the threads you talked about, the ones discussing that video," I pointed out.

"Just look for Slenderman on the Parahuman wiki and you'll find it," Lisa replied with her usual grin. "Good idea on the male costume, actually."

"Slenderman?"

"The current favorite nickname of the guy in that video, after some Earth Aleph myth I don't know much about. The second most popular is 'Black Shade of Doom', but it's too much of a mouthful to have taken off. Seems all the good 'Shadow' ones are taken," she explained, then rose. "You good?"

I nodded. Regardless of her allegiance to the Undersiders, Lisa was a fun person to meet. It felt good to be outside with someone, for once.

"Catch ya later then!" she said, dropping enough cash on the table to cover for the both of us, with room to spare.

I slowly nibbled on what was left of my lunch. I hadn't planned on becoming known so early, and I had plans to make, especially if I wanted to continue hurting the gangs.

And that would require quite a bit of thinking over.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

As soon as I finished my food, I went straight from the pancake place to the library. I still had to wait for a place at a computer, but once there I logged in instantly to the parahuman wiki and searched for my new nickname.

Wow. That's a lot of threads, I told myself.

Going through them, I realized Lisa had showed me only one of two videos. The second was the two Merchants capes waking up in the morning, and Skidmark finding out his lack of power. Seemed he used his abilities to dry off after a shower. The version from the original poster was uncensored, but finding a censored one that I could look at in public was easy.

If you'd taken out the nudity and the camera timestamp, it would have fit perfectly as a comedy sketch. A bad one, though. Skidmark wasn't TV material.

It also linked me back to the original post, and that one was a masterpiece, considering where it came from.

The post was written as if done by a 15 year old boy.

It was perfect for what it wanted to look as: the smilies, the atrocious grammar, the little ASCII art, everything fit. The poster claimed that he'd gotten access to a wireless camera a few weeks ago, and that he'd found the data that very morning and posted it. He also pointed out that the two people in the video (he claimed not knowing their names) had left the place in a hurry and hadn't been seen since.

I nearly doubted her, but I trusted Lisa's info about Coil. And it explained the little issues with that post. Squealer was a tinker; she wouldn't miss a wireless camera in her own bedroom that a 15 year old could hack into. Not for a few weeks. And a Brockton Bay teenager not noticing he was spying on the leaders of the Merchants for the same period, also very unlikely. A professional supervillain, one with access to high quality tools, spying on the competition and posting their downfall for all to see, hidden behind the anonymity of the internet… That seemed quite a bit more likely.

That brought me to think about Coil. He wasn't currently part of my plans against the gangs, being a villain somewhat like the Undersiders: holding no territory, selling no drugs. His forces struck here and there at what seemed very specific targets, mostly robberies, and then left without being caught. I wondered what had been his goal in releasing the video.

On one side, he might have simply wanted to hasten the fall of a rival gang. I did the work, but that message made sure the Merchants would be attacked before the week was done. And I had no issue with ensuring the Merchants were taken out.

On the other, outing me was a possibility. My anonymity had been a powerful shield, and nothing I would do could bring it back. Scrapping my costume and going under another might help, but every case of missing powers would be tracked to that persona, whatever the source.

After thinking for a while, I decided to do nothing. My cape identity becoming known might not be something I'd planned on, but it meant nothing for the moment. The wiki goers were looking for a man, not me, and Coil didn't do enough to displace the Empire and the ABB from the top of my list. I'd keep an eye out for him, but the others were more urgent, from my point of view.

I still went through every thread, making sure there wasn't anything in particular that pointed to me. There wasn't, especially with most of each thread being sniping and counter-sniping about the validity of the videos.

Then I reached the 'Asking for Slenderman' thread.

There were a lot more posts there than I expected, even removing those not asking for a visit. Most of the requests there were from too far to even think of verifying them, places like Los Angeles and even London, but a few were in Brockton Bay or close enough. One even included a specific address and room number at what I found was an asylum for dangerous parahumans, between Brockton Bay and Boston. It really put in perspective what Tattletale had said about being lucky.

In my pocket, Tattletale's phone beeped.

Speak of the devil… I told myself.

I'd expected a simple street address… I got much more than that. Address, Layouts of the two levels (drawings), closest phone, closest working power plug… Were those wifi passwords? I stared at the screen, boggling.

By now, it was already 3PM. I had enough time to check the place and be back home before my father arrived from work. I logged out from the wiki, closed down every page I'd opened and left the building. It didn't take a moment before another took my spot, and I was gone.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The place was perfect.

The building was an old factory which had produced components used in ship repair, back when Brockton Bay was a major shipping hub. Now it was another abandoned building. It was free of squatters, someone having melted the doors shut before leaving. It didn't stop me in the least, the small alley being shadowy enough to take my other state and slip inside through a pipe.

My shadow sight made the interior completely visible. There were still a number of machines all over the ground floor, and while my tinker power never told me any technological insights while I was in shadow state, I was pretty sure it would do a jig once I started actually working here.

Second floor had offices. There wasn't a stable-looking chair in sight, most of the furniture was rusted, rotten or some combination of the two, but there was enough space there for a good lair with the first floor serving as a workshop. There was still much to be done, especially considering the veritable carpet of dust that could be found everywhere, but it was even better than I'd expected.

I'll have to thank Tattletale somehow, I noted to myself. Look out, world. I'm going to be ready for you now.