**Akane**
“So,” Taylor said as we sat watching Parian put on one of her puppet shows for a mass of children and their minders. “Are you ready for school on Monday?”
I tilted my head as I watched the brown and grey denim wolf chase after a green and grey gingham duck, “As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose,” I answered as the children either grew angry or cried for the death of the duck. The group of kids were either from a day care somewhere towards Captain’s Hill or were a Pre-K group with a lot of parental chaperones. The old Russian folktale was age appropriate though, and all of them were entranced by the movements of the different cloth scraps that made up the dolls. Glancing over at Taylor, I could see her lifting an eyebrow questioningly at me, so I continued, “I’m as ready now as I was when I walked into Winslow Monday morning.” Taylor grimaced and I smiled at her before hugging her close to my side. “It won’t happen again Taylor,” I told her before dropping my volume so as not to be heard by the people around us. “And we are about to take this whole city for a spin, just you wait and see.”
She snorted and smiled in response before grabbing my empty hot chocolate cup from where we had stopped at Starbucks before the show and heading towards the garbage can. I turned my attention back to the show as the children started to cheer. Peter was a mass of red cotton with blue denim legs and was perched proudly on top of the “wolf” doll as the “hunters” carried the two back to town. Some of the children were still sad over the death of the duck though, or at least until it was found, alive by the small bird to end the story. That, in of itself, also brought cheers, and the entire scene brought a smile to my face. I always enjoyed the smiles from small children, and I imagined that was part of what drove Parian to do these shows as well.
“Hey sweetheart,” a voice called from one side of the square that housed the small, open air theater. The shout grabbed everyone’s attention and pulled their gaze to the mass of filth covered humanity that stood on that side of the square. “I think it’s time we had a serious talk about when your going to do one of your special shows for Skidmark.”
“Merchants,” Taylor muttered having come back over to me after disposing of our trash. I glanced at her again and could see the look of disgust on her face at the six thugs that were advancing on the crowd.
“Power up,” I half asked, half warned as I cranked her power up to fifteen and then watched her face turn almost mint as she obviously fought the urge to vomit. “What’s wrong?” I asked in a near whisper.
“They have so much,” she muttered after a second of gaining her control back. “They are covered in lice and other body bugs its just so damn disgusting.” I went pale at the thought and almost barfed right there as well. “Even with my power normal I could probably fight one blindfolded and track their every move there are so many on them.” I matched her full body shiver with my own shudder.
While we had been talking, the group of landfill rejects had moved closer to the crowd sending the children scrambling for parents and caretakers while Parian started to pack up her show. “You know you owe us for not fucking you up, right blondie?” the apparent leader of the group said in a menacing tone. “Though I suppose we could call it even if we took the money from these rich fucks and their parents.”
“You will do no such thing,” a new voice with a thick German accent said from the other side of the square drawing everyone’s attention there. Standing there was a strange, older man leaning on a cane with six empire thugs backing him. “You and your trash will leave Madame Parian and these people alone and return to the landfill from which you spawned or else my friends and I will, how is you American’s say it?” he paused a moment for drama’s sake before continuing. “Ah yes, we shall take out the trash, ja?”
“Who ever heard of Empire to the rescue,” I muttered causing Taylor to snort slightly. Of course she was the only one who was likely to find it funny, because as bad as running from the Merchants might be on its face, being caught in the opening salvo of a gang war would be worse, and these civilians knew that.
I fired off a text to Aunt Emily one handed that I hoped wasn’t gobbledygook, or at least if it was would get her to send some kind of help. They were probably all unpowered so I could at least keep my secret and possibly help a few civs clear, but as each group started to finger knife hilts and body chains, I knew that either Taylors ID was about to become public, or else we would need a miracle. Surprisingly, miracles were apparently Taylor’s other super power.
**Taylor**
“Gentlemen!” I yelled stepping up on top of the bench that Akane and I had been watching the show from. “Before you fight, I would ask that you listen to me for a minute.” The two leader’s heads had snapped to me even as I had raised my voice, but the man with the cane nodded, and the Merchant struck a kind of swagger pose and waved, so I continued. “We all agree that this is an area that depends on the crowds like this one to survive yes?”
The Nazi nodded, his eyes never leaving me while the Merchants mumbled amongst themselves for a moment before the leader yelled back, “What’s your point bitch?”
“My point is,” I said waving my hand at the civilians who had come for the show. “Scared and possibly worse, wounded adults neither bring, nor allow their children to go somewhere that they are likely to be hurt.” Both of the group leaders nodded at this so I continued, “I propose that both sides allow the civilians to withdraw, to leave unmolested, and then you have your little fight while Miss Parian makes up her mind.”
“We can allow this,” the Nazi said calmly.
“Whatever,” the Merchant leader snarled and with that I gestured at the parents and chaperones who grabbed their charges and practically flooded out the parking lot exit.
**Parian**
To be frank, I was surprised. That girl had probably just saved several lives by getting through to both sides and convincing them to let the audience leave. “Wundabar fraulein,” the Nazi leader said with a soft slow clap. “You know the Empire is always willing to take in quick minded people of the right persuasions.”
“Yeah, but no,” the tall brunette answered having turned to look at the Empire group. “Thanks, but no thanks, I’m not interested. Besides, you wouldn’t like my friends.” The group of Merchants started laughing at how she had shut down the Empire’s offer, they stopped quickly though when she turned her attention on them however. “Don’t laugh to hard you bunch of landfill rejects,” she said shutting up the Merchants as well. “The Empire’s soldiers at least know how to bathe. Now Miss Parian, if you would step over here, they can begin their fight and beat each other senseless.”
I nodded and grabbing the reigns of the pack horse that I had made out of my fabric led it and its loads of appliques and doll parts toward the exit. “Merci beucoup,” I said as I reached her causing the young woman to nod. Looking back over my shoulder I could see her and her friend backing away from the square, one hand each on the flanks of my pack pony.
“Alright gentlemen,” the girl called out as we started down the stairs toward the parking lot, “it’s all yours.” The roar from the two groups was soon followed by grunts and the clangs of pipes meeting each other from being swung. I refused to look back at the carnage that was happening behind me, my focus completely on the parking lot ahead.
Reaching the parking lot showed an ambulance, a paddy wagon, and a PRT sprayer team dismounting from another cargo van along with a dozen of the Brockton Bay Police Department. Turning I looked at my rescuers and asked, “Who are you?”
“So,” Taylor said as we sat watching Parian put on one of her puppet shows for a mass of children and their minders. “Are you ready for school on Monday?”
I tilted my head as I watched the brown and grey denim wolf chase after a green and grey gingham duck, “As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose,” I answered as the children either grew angry or cried for the death of the duck. The group of kids were either from a day care somewhere towards Captain’s Hill or were a Pre-K group with a lot of parental chaperones. The old Russian folktale was age appropriate though, and all of them were entranced by the movements of the different cloth scraps that made up the dolls. Glancing over at Taylor, I could see her lifting an eyebrow questioningly at me, so I continued, “I’m as ready now as I was when I walked into Winslow Monday morning.” Taylor grimaced and I smiled at her before hugging her close to my side. “It won’t happen again Taylor,” I told her before dropping my volume so as not to be heard by the people around us. “And we are about to take this whole city for a spin, just you wait and see.”
She snorted and smiled in response before grabbing my empty hot chocolate cup from where we had stopped at Starbucks before the show and heading towards the garbage can. I turned my attention back to the show as the children started to cheer. Peter was a mass of red cotton with blue denim legs and was perched proudly on top of the “wolf” doll as the “hunters” carried the two back to town. Some of the children were still sad over the death of the duck though, or at least until it was found, alive by the small bird to end the story. That, in of itself, also brought cheers, and the entire scene brought a smile to my face. I always enjoyed the smiles from small children, and I imagined that was part of what drove Parian to do these shows as well.
“Hey sweetheart,” a voice called from one side of the square that housed the small, open air theater. The shout grabbed everyone’s attention and pulled their gaze to the mass of filth covered humanity that stood on that side of the square. “I think it’s time we had a serious talk about when your going to do one of your special shows for Skidmark.”
“Merchants,” Taylor muttered having come back over to me after disposing of our trash. I glanced at her again and could see the look of disgust on her face at the six thugs that were advancing on the crowd.
“Power up,” I half asked, half warned as I cranked her power up to fifteen and then watched her face turn almost mint as she obviously fought the urge to vomit. “What’s wrong?” I asked in a near whisper.
“They have so much,” she muttered after a second of gaining her control back. “They are covered in lice and other body bugs its just so damn disgusting.” I went pale at the thought and almost barfed right there as well. “Even with my power normal I could probably fight one blindfolded and track their every move there are so many on them.” I matched her full body shiver with my own shudder.
While we had been talking, the group of landfill rejects had moved closer to the crowd sending the children scrambling for parents and caretakers while Parian started to pack up her show. “You know you owe us for not fucking you up, right blondie?” the apparent leader of the group said in a menacing tone. “Though I suppose we could call it even if we took the money from these rich fucks and their parents.”
“You will do no such thing,” a new voice with a thick German accent said from the other side of the square drawing everyone’s attention there. Standing there was a strange, older man leaning on a cane with six empire thugs backing him. “You and your trash will leave Madame Parian and these people alone and return to the landfill from which you spawned or else my friends and I will, how is you American’s say it?” he paused a moment for drama’s sake before continuing. “Ah yes, we shall take out the trash, ja?”
“Who ever heard of Empire to the rescue,” I muttered causing Taylor to snort slightly. Of course she was the only one who was likely to find it funny, because as bad as running from the Merchants might be on its face, being caught in the opening salvo of a gang war would be worse, and these civilians knew that.
I fired off a text to Aunt Emily one handed that I hoped wasn’t gobbledygook, or at least if it was would get her to send some kind of help. They were probably all unpowered so I could at least keep my secret and possibly help a few civs clear, but as each group started to finger knife hilts and body chains, I knew that either Taylors ID was about to become public, or else we would need a miracle. Surprisingly, miracles were apparently Taylor’s other super power.
**Taylor**
“Gentlemen!” I yelled stepping up on top of the bench that Akane and I had been watching the show from. “Before you fight, I would ask that you listen to me for a minute.” The two leader’s heads had snapped to me even as I had raised my voice, but the man with the cane nodded, and the Merchant struck a kind of swagger pose and waved, so I continued. “We all agree that this is an area that depends on the crowds like this one to survive yes?”
The Nazi nodded, his eyes never leaving me while the Merchants mumbled amongst themselves for a moment before the leader yelled back, “What’s your point bitch?”
“My point is,” I said waving my hand at the civilians who had come for the show. “Scared and possibly worse, wounded adults neither bring, nor allow their children to go somewhere that they are likely to be hurt.” Both of the group leaders nodded at this so I continued, “I propose that both sides allow the civilians to withdraw, to leave unmolested, and then you have your little fight while Miss Parian makes up her mind.”
“We can allow this,” the Nazi said calmly.
“Whatever,” the Merchant leader snarled and with that I gestured at the parents and chaperones who grabbed their charges and practically flooded out the parking lot exit.
**Parian**
To be frank, I was surprised. That girl had probably just saved several lives by getting through to both sides and convincing them to let the audience leave. “Wundabar fraulein,” the Nazi leader said with a soft slow clap. “You know the Empire is always willing to take in quick minded people of the right persuasions.”
“Yeah, but no,” the tall brunette answered having turned to look at the Empire group. “Thanks, but no thanks, I’m not interested. Besides, you wouldn’t like my friends.” The group of Merchants started laughing at how she had shut down the Empire’s offer, they stopped quickly though when she turned her attention on them however. “Don’t laugh to hard you bunch of landfill rejects,” she said shutting up the Merchants as well. “The Empire’s soldiers at least know how to bathe. Now Miss Parian, if you would step over here, they can begin their fight and beat each other senseless.”
I nodded and grabbing the reigns of the pack horse that I had made out of my fabric led it and its loads of appliques and doll parts toward the exit. “Merci beucoup,” I said as I reached her causing the young woman to nod. Looking back over my shoulder I could see her and her friend backing away from the square, one hand each on the flanks of my pack pony.
“Alright gentlemen,” the girl called out as we started down the stairs toward the parking lot, “it’s all yours.” The roar from the two groups was soon followed by grunts and the clangs of pipes meeting each other from being swung. I refused to look back at the carnage that was happening behind me, my focus completely on the parking lot ahead.
Reaching the parking lot showed an ambulance, a paddy wagon, and a PRT sprayer team dismounting from another cargo van along with a dozen of the Brockton Bay Police Department. Turning I looked at my rescuers and asked, “Who are you?”
Wolf wins every fight but the one where he dies, fangs locked around the throat of his opponent.
Currently writing BROBd
Currently writing BROBd