Staring out at the city, and the crowds of people in hazmat suits who were moving in for relief, for search and rescue, he frowned. He and Dragon had had some intense discussions on the subject of what it was to be a ‘man’. To be human, to be masculine, feminine.
Dragon had been pissed when he’d suggested she was the feminine ideal. That, in the eternal crisis that any woman faced between being the virgin, the madonna, and being sensual, sexual, she was both.
He wished he understood why she’d been so angry.
To be a man, though, it wasn’t much easier. The standard society set was just as high. To be a provider, a rock, to be sensitive, yet to avoid being emotional.
For long minutes, he stared out over the city, watching the sun dip beneath the horizon, the smoke and dust making the distant star’s light hazier, fuzzier.
“Tiamat II,” he said. “Alert me when the system is finished the backup process, one way or another.”
“Yes, Defiant.”
Uncomfortably similar to Dragon’s voice. He felt an ache in his chest.
He hopped down from the nose of the craft, then used his spear to help himself down from the craggy edge of terrain that had been raised up from the earth in the chaos. He strode forward, towards the city proper, calibrating his helmet to help identify any warm bodies.
■
“Annex? Kirk?”
Kirk sat up from the hospital bed.
“You can stay where you are,” the doctor said, not looking up from the clipboard.
“I’m okay,” Kirk said.
“Your test results are taking some time, I’m sorry. We can expect a two or three-hour wait. Half an hour for the MRI, forty-five minutes for the CT scan.”
“At least it’s something to do,” Kirk replied.
“You’d be surprised at how quickly it gets boring,” the doctor answered.
Kirk winced. “Okay. Can I maybe use a phone in the meantime? Call my parents? They’ll be wondering.”
“They’ve already been informed,” the man answered. “They’ll be here shortly. There’s paperwork they’ll have to sign, because a few of your teammates are also walking around without any protection for their identities, but I don’t imagine that’ll take long.”
“Maybe I can call my friends? They’ll be wondering how I’m doing.”
“They know about your life in costume?”
“They were there when I got my powers. I just want to call someone, anyone I know, to occupy my thoughts, to talk.”
“There’s a phone at the nurse’s station, center of the floor. Ask and they’ll punch in the number to dial out.”
“Okay,” Kirk said, smiling. He gripped the side of his hospital gown to bind it shut.
“I…” the doctor started, he stopped and frowned.
Kirk had halted in his tracks, shifting his weight to keep his bare feet from making too much contact with the cold floor.
Odd, in a way, that he had to. But his power tended to be all or nothing.
“I shouldn’t tell you this, and I’m not naming names, but the first test results have come in, for some of the others who were at your side in New Delhi. Here, and in other cities. The tests for radiation are coming back negative.”
Kirk blinked.
“No promises it’ll be the same for you, but…”
“A bit of hope?” Kirk asked.
“With luck.”
“Thank you,” Kirk said, smiling for the first time. “Thank you.”
“I should be the one saying that to you,” the doctor said. “Just… don’t be too disappointed if the answer isn’t what you wanted, okay?”
“Deal,” Kirk answered.
■
“…further reports are coming in from multiple sources. The Endbringer Behemoth has been reported as being slain in New Delhi!”
“Yes, Lizbeth. Video footage is always scarce when dealing with the Endbringers, but verification has been consistent from multiple sources. It seems the footage seen earlier of the great shaft of light was an attack from an unknown party, debilitating the Endbringer. Defending forces held the injured monster off until Scion could arrive, delivering a finishing blow.”
“Earlier in the year, for those of you who don’t remember, Chevalier boasted of a new Protectorate, clear of the sabotage and interference from its own leaders. Today may serve as a testament to that boast.”
“All around the world, people seem to be celebrating, but it’s a markedly cautious celebration. Early polls on the UKCC web site suggest that a full eighteen percent of people who voted are waiting for more information or verification before celebrating the heroes’ victory, and ten percent of people don’t intend to celebrate at all.”
“Not at all?”
“No, Lizbeth. In the comments thread of the poll, a common trend seems to be the feeling that he isn’t or can’t be dead, that the heroes were mistaken, or that this might even provoke a response from the remaining Endbringers.”
“Amazing. We’re just now getting more information…”
■
“Dad?”
“Taylor! Oh my god. You’re alive.”
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me-”
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay. I just got the tests back, and there’s no sign of ambient radiation or any of that.”
“I’m glad.”
“Me too. I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to call. You haven’t replied to my messages, about being there if and when they invite me to the Wards. And you were there for court, but you didn’t talk to me.”
“I am glad you called. About my not-”
“We killed him.” The words were blurted out.
There was silence on the line.
“Behemoth is dead.”
Silence, still.
“We killed him,” the words were a repeat of earlier. As if that summed it up. “I think it’s already on the news.”
“I know. I saw, but I didn’t quite believe it. I’m dumbfounded. Amazed. I’m so proud of you. Wow.”
“I wanted to tell you before you heard from others, but there’s so much goddamn bureaucracy going on, and they wouldn’t give me a phone in the hospital room.”
“Were you- did you help? Were you a part of that?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“I’m just… I’m trying to wrap my head around it. Wow.”
There was a silence on the other end, this time.
“Taylor?”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think, to wonder why you didn’t come. Why you haven’t visited me. You’re afraid of me.”
“Taylor, that’s not-”
“It’s true, isn’t it? And all of the doubts I had before dialing the phone and calling you, they were right, this makes it worse. I have a rap sheet that’s like, eighty pages thick, and I killed a man, and then I killed Director Tagg and Alexandria. She is dead, by the way. If you see her on the news, it’s just a cape that stole her body. Her corpse. And now you hear about me fighting Behemoth and it makes it worse. I can’t even talk about what I did without digging the knife in deeper.”
“Taylor, no. It’s not fear. I saw some of your friends, not long ago. I wanted to talk to your employee, Charlotte, and the others came. And I saw this whole other life, this side of you I couldn’t recognize at all. Little things that I recognized, yes, and then big things that I could barely fathom. I’ve never been able to handle loss well, with Annette, and now feeling like I maybe lost you… I just… I want to adjust, to get my head around this, and then I can visit and things will be like they were.”
“Things aren’t going to be like they were, dad. I don’t want them to be. I’m trying to put as much distance between the person I was then and the person I am now as I can. I’m sucking pretty hard at it, but I’m trying. Except maybe today, I found a middle ground. And it worked, in a way that makes me proud and terrified and amazed and confused and apparently I’m in trouble for something I did. I’m in trouble because I was wea
ring a camera and they saw the footage and I was walking that middle ground between the person I was and the person they want me to be, and I did a lot of borderline sketchy shit just to get by and they don’t understand.”
There was a note of emotion in the last word, a break in the rant.
“Taylor…”
One word, and then silence.
The voice was calmer this time, more measured. “I’m sorry. I’m really tired. I’m going in soon. To talk to them. They’ve made it clear they aren’t happy. Except I think they’re a little bit afraid of me too. Afraid of me like my own dad is.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Deny it.”
There was a pause.
“I’m not afraid, Taylor. If there’s any fear, my love for you outweighs it by far, understand?”
But the phone was already steadily buzzing with a dial tone. The pause was enough.
■
♦ Topic: Footage (Original Poster)
In: Boards ► World News ► Main
Bagrat
Posted on July 26th, 2011:
Link here.
Mirrors here, here and here.
Came directly to me. Cuts in and out, but that’s to be expected.
More info later. Better to watch and see for yourself than get it here.
(Showing page 39 of 39)
► Thatdude
Replied on July 26th, 2011:
@ Bystander
I don’t know, but holy shit was that intense. I wish there was more at the end.
► Mane Magenta
Replied on July 26th, 2011:
When Scion uses his power it disturbs electronics. Its why when he flies you can’t track him unless its with your eyes.
Omg. I’m only halfway through. This is almost a feature length film.
► Dawgsmiles (Veteran poster)
Replied on July 26th, 2011:
anyone else have to look up some of the people in there? i almost thought one or two weren’t villains
► Saskatchew
Replied on July 26th, 2011:
It’s kind of terrifying, isn’t it? There’s only like twenty in my province but you think maybe **one** can do something like we saw partway through and its like wow holy shit I could run into them in the street at any time
► Feychick
Replied on July 26th, 2011:
holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck
(56 minutes in).
► Ne
Replied on July 26th, 2011:
@49:00 When she’s talking to the guy in blue. Who is that? Not in the wiki. How do you even SPELL that? She turns on her friend? What happens to that guy? Did he die? Did she get him killed?
► Forgotten CreatorReplied on July 26th, 2011:
@ Dawgsmiles – I had to look up one or two. There was a short doc about some of them a bit ago after Alexandria died. You can find it here.
► Logs
Replied on July 26th, 2011:
Let’s see:
■ Note the link back to this thread just earlier today. (Kid has Weaver show up for Wards event at park.) Paraphrasing hearsay: ‘I had everything, I gave it up’. You can see how much she cares about them.
■ Is the Echidna thing tied to the mysterious info-blackout in Brockton Bay re: time portal created?
■ Wondering about Tecton. Liking his talk about powers and building teams, but he defects leadership to known ex-villain who knows little to nothing about his team?
■ Anyone else wondering why they went with the ‘V’ hand sign? That’s a rude gesture in New Delhi, 99% sure. Americans.
■ Intimate moment b/w Weaver and Grue. Anyone else feel like a pervert watching this? Can’t see anything, but I think they’re kissing. If I thought this was staged I stopped when this happened.
■ Regent/girl with gray mask (forget name) funny as hell. Hoping they all make it out okay.
■ Have to stop at 12 minute mark. Burned girl. Too real.
► General Prancer
Replied on July 26th, 2011:
anyone else really interested in learning more about Weaver?
edit: @Logs: don’t get too attached to anyone.
► Noveltry
Replied on July 26th, 2011:
This cuts out at the most frustrating times.
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 … 38, 39
■
Glenn reached across his keyboard to refresh his email, then hit the key on his keyboard to shut down the machine. While the screen went through the motions, Glenn walked around the desk to kneel on the floor. The computer itself was set into a recess in the floor, and he worked at unplugging and unscrewing each wire in turn.
A butterfly flew across his field of vision, and he jumped despite himself.
“Weaver,” he said, turning around.
“Glenn,” she said. She wasn’t in costume, but her glower was intense enough that she might as well have been in her full garb as Skitter, complete with shawl, skirt and the carpet of insects crawling on her.
“Recuperating?”
“Not as much as I’d like,” she said. Her voice was hard. “I’m not having the best day, on a lot of levels.”
“Still waiting for the tribunal to convene?” Glenn asked. “It’s been hours now.”
“The secretary’s supposed to call me. They gave me one of the superhero phones so I could call my dad, told me to hold onto it. I’d take it as a good sign, except there’s a video circulating online. My video. Well past the point where anyone could hope to control access to it. Mirrors, bitsharing, hardcopies…”
“I see. Upsetting.”
“Yeah. Just a little,” she said. The tone was light, but her expression remained the same. “Packing up?”
“Yes,” Glenn said. He tried to lift the desktop, found more wires attached at the bottom, and set it down to unplug them.
“I expect I’ll be fired. They’ll make me clean out my office, so I figured I would get a headstart. I don’t keep anything permanent that isn’t on my personal computer, so this box is all I need.”
She didn’t respond.
He tried to lift it again, only to find more wires connected on the front.
“No need to worry. If you’re here to inflict some bug-induced torture on me, you can save yourself a lot of effort by leaving me to my own devices with this damned box. I promise you, I’ll figure out something worse to do to myself.”
Butterflies circled her as she stalked forward. Glenn backed away a step before he realized what she was doing. She wasn’t even a third of his weight, and the only insects she seemed to have on hand were butterflies, but he felt a touch intimidated nonetheless.
Were the butterflies supposed to be ironic? A gesture?
She knelt down beside the computer, fiddled around and disconnected the remaining wires, then lifted the box up to the floor beside the recess.
“Thank you. I’m good with computers, with software, but laughably bad with the technology.”
“Why, Glenn? It was private. It was supposed to be for therapy.”
“Wasn’t my choice to parcel it out. Dragon was killed, by all accounts, and Director Wilkins made the call to hand it out, for your pending conduct review.”
“And you made the call to release it online.”
“I suppose Tattletale informed you. Do you know how frustrating it is to be a mere human being among powers like you and your friend?”
“I dunno,” she said. “I figure you can relieve your stress by uploading their personal videos to the internet.”
Glenn sighed. “You’re tired. You’re not being rational.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s totally the way to talk to a girl.”
Glenn stepped forwards, resisted the urge to flinch as the butterflies briefly invaded his personal space. He met her eyes, waited for her to look away, then snapped, right in front of her.
Her eyes locked onto his, and she looked even more irritated.
“Stop,” he said. �
��Look me in the eyes. I want to talk to Weaver the strategist, not Taylor.”
She didn’t move a muscle, but he wondered if the butterflies changed course. She remained silent, glowering.
“I know you’re tired. Today took a lot out of you,” Glenn said. “But think. What purpose does it serve to upload the video?”
“It’s the best footage you have of the event. The best way to sell the win, the PRT’s involvement.”
“Think bigger.”
“That’s pretty damn big.”
“Bigger, Weaver. Come on. Do you think I got to where I am by thinking one dimensionally? What else, why? I’m getting fired. I knew I’d get fired. Would I do it just for that?”
“Probably, if there wasn’t another way.”
“With an ego like mine?”
“Honestly, your ego can’t be that big if you wear those clothes.”
Despite himself, he was a little stung. He’d cultivated his image to demand attention. Even his weight was calculated, to make it clear he was not one of them, that he was someone with power, presence. His clothes were admittedly awful. They were intended to be awful. But they didn’t diminish his sense of pride in the least.
It was a shame he was undoubtedly going to lose his job. It would be nice to discuss the idea of image from two very different perspectives.
“I’m not your adversary, Weaver.”
“No. I can’t help but feel you’re an albatross around my neck. I keep hearing that you’ve done stuff to help, but I keep experiencing this… this.”
“I’m your ally, Weaver. You think I don’t recognize the issues in the PRT? The corruption that’s still at the core? The need for change? There has to be some sacrifice, and there has to be someone to step forward, a harbinger for that change. Chevalier may be the hero of the day, he can lay the groundwork for change, but he can’t be that harbinger. He’s too entrenched.”
“You want me to be the harbinger.”
“It’ll be hard, but I think you’ll manage with that. Putting this video online, it’s going to achieve a lot of things. I think, seeing you in the thick of it, it’s going to change people’s opinion of you. There’ll be controversy, some will hate you. But others? This will be their first view of what it’s truly like on the battlefield. They’ll have to like you, to sympathize. But the rule of three says you won’t be forgotten about.”
Worm Page 400
