6.31 Rubicon
16th of May, 2011
"You're still here, uh." I comment aloud as the portal snaps close behind me, the SNOW OWL dismissed once again.
Emma doesn't answer, her eyes locked onto her cell phone as she stands still.
I silently walk next to her, and give her screen a glance. My face grins back at the camera while throwing a victory sign, the SNOW OWL looking pristine in sharp contrast to Lung's impaled body in the background.
I give my cousin a side-glance, humming under my breath in consideration.
"You want me to frame it for you?" I ask a little idly.
She blinks, before making a sound that is vaguely interrogative and rather monosyllabic as she looks my way.
"That picture," I point at her phone, "Want me to frame it? I can do it in less than a minute if you'd like."
My fellow redhead looks at me like I'm an alien for a moment.
"...Why?" She asks, puzzlement heavy in her voice.
"To get closure, I dunno?" I shrug, ignoring how she twitches a little at that, "There's a good chance that Lung has earned himself a one way trip to the Birdcage, and I took out–" Dell helpfully give me the numbers, "–fifty-seven of his goons in passing, all of whom were about to go on a crime-filled joyride across the city to prop their boss' ego, something that'll probably lends them in hot water too. The ABB is as good as gone."
I fall silent as my cousin lets my words visibly sink in for a moment before looking back at her phone after a while.
"I don't need closure. I'm already over this." She eventually answers, except her voice is a bit shaky and I don't believe her for one second.
I snort derisively, shaking my head as I earn myself a look full of anger.
"Suuure, and I'm absolutely, totally, over Somerset too," I drawl, my tone as flat as a cutting board, "I'm not on a hair trigger and haven't regularly lost control of my magic during the last few days, and absolutely didn't choose to troll Jack Slash despite the risks because it was going to make me feel better. Totes."
I close my visible eye and sigh, one hand vaguely gesturing in front of me.
"Emma, nobody's made of stone," I give her a weary, half-lidded look, my hand coming to point at my Eye hidden being an infuriatingly artful bang, "Hell, I know what goes through Alexandria's head because of this gizmo, and I can certify you that the 'tough woman making tough decisions' persona she has going on is just that, an act. Humans are social animals, we all need a support network to be functional, or we go barmy, real fast, real quick. So if being able to regularly look at that–" I point at her cell phone, "–help you sleep better at night, and actually make you start taking your therapy seriously – cuz' sorry to break it to you girl, but you actually need it! – then I'll happily do it."
A beat passes as the both of us stare at each other for a while longer, an entire array of emotions flickering across my cousin's face while I placidly look back.
"...Please?" She eventually asks, her tone full of resignation, like she somehow lost a great battle.
I'd argue she actually won one for once, but I'm not about to say that aloud anytime soon.
Instead, I say something else.
"One humbled, overhyped thug in high definition, coming right up!" I chirp.
And for the first time since I've met her, the silence that stretches between us as Dell takes care of the printing process is a tentatively relaxed one.
***
"I can do this all day." Nitciméne's voice dispassionately claims as she stands on Lung's back, scarlet, ravenous energy hammered in the shape of an arming sword pressed against his jugular–
Lisa presses rewind.
"I can do this all day." Nictimène's voice dispassionately claims as she–
Lisa presses rewind.
"I can do this all day." Nitcimène's voice–
"Anything to add, Insight?" The Director's voice wrenches her from her zoning, and she bangs her knees against the underside of the table with a startled yelp.
With a muted swear falling from her lips and tears pearling at the corner of her eyes, the Thinker turns away from her computer screen to give her two superiors her attention, one hand coming to pull her earbuds away while the other starts massaging her abused kneecaps.
"Apologies, I got–" she winces, "–distracted for a moment. You were saying?"
"The Director asked if you had any observations to add about the Bay's 'newest independent hero'." Armsmaster concisely explains, only a sliver of annoyance mixed with awe threading through his tone as he delivers them; though Lisa has known the man long enough to be able to hear the quotation marks.
"Nothing ground-breaking, I'm afraid," she answers with a half-shrug, her hand still busy trying to inject back some semblance of feeling into her aching joints, "I mean, it was pretty obvious that Wonder Girl was ridiculously dangerous after her stunt with the Nine; this is just…" she gestures vaguely toward her screen, "A visual proof of those facts."
"Elaborate, please." The Director asks, standing straight-backed near her work station, her hands clasped at her back.
"Alright, so, her suit's power source seems to be as close to inexhaustible as it is physically possible, and the weapon array that she used to revoke the gangers' kneecaps privilege is energy based," she tilts her head, then adds, "Possibly mildly radioactive too, but nothing harmful as long as she doesn't go for the really big booms. And that's the thing; the injuries inflicted are all proportional to the body mass of the victim; meaning the bigger they were–"
"The 'thicker' the shot they took," The Tinker in the room concludes in her stead, Lisa gesturing his way in an 'he gets it' manner, "You're saying that she can modulate the output."
"I am. It's clear that she was a lot less soft-handed when she shot Lung," which she couldn't really fault the girl for, since the guy had been something north of nine feet tall by this point, "And I'm confident this wasn't her upper limit. Not by a long shot."
"CSI reports indicated that all that was left of Crawler had been what was left of his forelimbs and a bit of his 'rear end'," Armsmaster muses aloud, "Assuming she used her weapon array against him, it would easily put her in the top percentile of Blaster."
"The sword she used is basically a bigger version of the dagger she used at the beginning," Lisa explains further, "Sure, it also behaves like a lightsaber in the sense that it runs very, very hot, but the edge messes with the covalent bonds between atoms all the same. Then there's how she disabled Lung with those huge stakes she manifested out of thin air," she pauses, before saying, "My money is on solid hologram technology."
At her words, the Director visibly blinks, and she'd bet solid gold the Tinker next to her is doing the same thing under his visor.
"...That would explain why those disappeared shortly after Nictimène left the scene." Armsmaster slowly utters out.
"Which ended up being more than a little convenient, since pulling those out of Lung would've been a chore, I wager," the Director comments a little idly, "Though I'm curious, what makes you say so besides the obvious?"
"It's not the first time she uses this technology," Lisa explains while gesturing with her hands, her knees now finally less achy, "Merely the first time that she outwardly weaponizes it. It may be because she lacked either the reaction speed or the processing power to properly use it in combat situations. Possibly both. For the record, that's how she shoved the gangsters away from the fighting."
"The ripple effect." Armsmaster says with a curt nod.
"Exactly. So clearly, she found a way to use this particular technology beyond just putting up a realistic illusion of a mysterious patron-slash-scapegoat when convenient," she replies while letting her own annoyance slips out at getting outplayed by a fucking twelve year old of all people, "Beyond that, she's fast in her armor. Like, the moment she goes from standing still in front of Lung to above him after he fell? I have no idea how she didn't break the sound barrier, because the acceleration displayed was beyond Mach 6! To cross less than five meters!"
"Nictimène already showed the ability to cross short distances at seemingly impossible speed outside of her armor, like during the test of the M-Polymorphine," the Tinker interjects, before adding, "Though I do admit this seems a bit more extreme."
"That would explain why Wonder Girl went so deep into transhumanism she doesn't look human anymore," she says, "Enduring this kind of speed, reacting at this kind of speed? Shouldn't be possible for the human body. Especially the reacting part."
A beat passes at the trio mull over Lisa's analysis.
"Considering her alleged goal is to pit herself against the Endbringers and winning," Armsmaster is the first to talk, his cadence even and measured, "I can see the logic behind her behavior. Moving and reacting faster than Leviathan, hitting harder than Behemoth, finding a workaround to the Simurgh's mastering…"
"And she's apparently not done yet," she carries on the line of thinking, "She was serious when she said that she didn't want to concern herself with street-level stuff, her main argument being that she was 'too busy'."
"Yet you paint a picture of the girl that confirms that she is already at the level of Triumvirate." The Director points out.
"Yet she doesn't think it is nearly enough," Lisa shots back, crossing her arms while leaning deeper into her chair, "And she proved, time and time again, that she was extremely well informed."
"She doesn't think it is nearly enough, because it isn't," Armsmaster slowly realizes out loud, "She doesn't think the Endbringers are giving it their all."
"Either that, or she'd rather fight them while being overprepared, and doesn't believe in overkill. Tossup, really," she concludes with a shrug, "Though for the record? My money is on the first proposition. Call it a gut feeling."
A solemn pause follows.
"Enough about Nictimène," the Director is the first to shake the heavy mood off, "We have Lung in custody, and a transport straight for the Birdcage will be here in two days' time once he's healed up enough," which makes plenty of sense to Lisa; it's not like any other prison on Bet would be able to contain the guy in any case, "The ABB has been defanged, and the Empire is currently crippled. We need to retake the docks while the window is open and before the next gaggle of opportunistic buffoons make their play. I'd like to hear your thoughts about how we should proceed going forward."
Lisa mentally perks up, and turns herself back toward her workstation while minimizing the video gifted by her personal headache to bring forth a map of the Bay, lending an ear to Armsmaster as the man starts to establish the beginning of a cohesive strategy.
Enough about the overpowered brat who can fold me like a lawn chair when she feels like it, and the existential crisis her existence and motivations bring forth, she mentally grumbles, this, this I can do something about.
[AN: Rather short chapter this time. Next one will be the big interlude I promised you a while back, and then we're hitting our next speedbump road mark.
Fun fact; someone did the math about how fast exactly a mech in AC6 is when dodging. The answer? Mach 6.
No wonder the pilots are all augmented to the gills lmao.