Legendary Tinker (Worm/LoL)

Ripples 4.10

2000, August 28: Washington, DC, USA

The show went like that for a while. To their credit, Stage Crew did an excellent job of adapting to an inebriated member. Prestige did a few card tricks and Showbiz told some jokes to buy a few minutes for Masquerade to recover and continue his act.

He returned eventually and called up a few more people, guessed someone's PIN number for their credit card, and did other neat tricks to prime the audience for the flashier act to come. He notably stopped calling on me. Eventually, he bowed out and took a step back, one of Showbiz's drones turning into a hardlight chair for him to sit on.

"Masquerade is pretty great, isn't he? Give him another round of applause. Oh, and Percy, you gotta change that PIN number, man," Prestige said, taking center stage again to some laughter. With the flick of his wrist, a dove appeared from his sleeve. "Now, keep your eye on the bird."

The bird turned into a sparkler. Then the sparkler became a bouquet of flowers he tossed into the crowd. At the very edge of my senses, I saw Brickhouse and Gold Rush pull up. Brickhouse seemed a tad out of breath, though our resident speedster looked just dandy.

"Verdeer, Brickhouse and Gold Rush are here," I spoke under my breath.

"Thanks," came Agent Mitchell's sheepish response. "I… may have gotten caught up in the show. Let me patch you all through. Mic check?"

"Brickhouse here."

"Gold Rush."

"Verdeer."

"Hyunmu."

"Great. Hyunmu, sit back and watch," he reminded me. "Brickhouse, show's yours."

"Thank you, sir," my leader said. "We're on the roof."

Up on stage, Showbiz handed Prestige a large tablecloth that he shook, causing a dining table to appear. That alone wasn't impossible with clever mirrors and the right set of pulleys, but in front of the National Art Gallery? I somehow doubted they came here the previous night to set up the necessary equipment. A tap of his cane caused a set of fine china to materialize on top in full view of the audience.

"What was Prestige's power again?" I asked.

"That wasn't it. It's inorganic transmutation based on mass. Striker medium," Verdeer told me. "That was Showbiz. Showbiz might be the most versatile tinker in the city, with only Hero matching him. He handles everything from lights and camerawork to sound and props."

"Is he a tinker with a stagehand focus?"

"That's how he uses his power, but we don't really know much more than that."

"Yeah, they're really good at tricking the viewer. It's hard to tell what's their power and what's just really good sleight of hand sometimes," Gold Rush added. "We even had to hire magicians to help us isolate what is and is not a trick."

A few more tricks. The dining table was covered then turned into a birdcage as the tablecloth was pulled away. The bird that became a sparkler reappeared with the snap of his fingers. It went into the cage, only for the cage to vanish at the next swish of the cloth. I had to give him some credit; he was a genuinely engaging performer who focused as much on keeping up a constant string of jokes and repartee as flashy tricks.

"Now for the grand finale," Prestige raised his voice. In his hand was the tablecloth he'd been throwing about all day. If I had to guess, the cloth was a dimensional storage device made by Showbiz and everything else was some very sneaky fingers, though I couldn't be sure. "Can I get one last volunteer? How about you, good sir? Yes, you, the jolly fellow in the front with two kids. Kids, you think daddy can help me out a little?"

"Yeah!" I heard them shout, tugging their dad forward.

The man who came forward wasn't fat per se, though he did have a bit of a beer belly. He wore a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and flip flops, the picture of a tourist.

Prestige flipped his tablecloth into the air and it settled over something that wasn't there a moment ago. "As for what the finale is…" He pulled it away with his typical flourish to reveal an ornate coffin decked out in gothic angels. Its edges were glowing with an eerie light. With the snap of his fingers, the tablecloth folded itself into a wicked looking saw. "Let's stick to the classics, shall we? Sir, please get inside the box. Who knows? You might even come out again," he joked.

"Go." The agent on call sounded firm despite the static.

"Yes, sir," Brickhouse grunted. "On three. Two. One!"

Plenty of people considered Brickhouse to be the tank of the group, a mobile fortress for his team to rally around. And this was true, but it was a mistake to think that the terrakinetic couldn't pile on the speed if the situation called for it.

Out at the edge of my vision, I saw Brickhouse stamp his foot, creating a concrete pillar that rocketed out of the rooftop.

At his best, the earth he created could be launched at speeds a little slower than a car on the freeway, roughly fifty-three miles per hour. He wasn't going all out, but the pillar still had enough kinetic energy to launch him from the roof, clear over the drones that made up the hardlight "curtains," and onto the stage. The brickwork panels he wore shifted at his command to his feet even as a ramp rose up to meet him, allowing him to skid across the stage and between the tourist and Prestige.

It looked impressive, but I had to wonder how he could bleed off that much energy using only varieties of stone. A normal person would have fractured their legs at the very minimum, definitely some Shard-enabled bullshit on his part.

Gold Rush, her brunette ponytail flying behind her, raced to his side in a yellow streak. Thanks to the curtains in the way, I was the only one who saw her race down the side of the gallery, dashing on a Roman pillar as though it were flat ground. If I had to put a number on it, I would have guessed her speed to be approaching ninety miles an hour. She wasn't the Flash or anything, but she was far faster than most could hope to keep up with. She left behind a visible light trail, almost like smudged paint or a camera that couldn't quite keep up. I found it a little funny that I could see her power's effects despite it not being a physical manifestation.

Verdeer was slowest to arrive despite his closer proximity. His lumbering form and two pairs of branch-like antlers were impossible to ignore. The crowd wisely began to back away.

"It's rude to interrupt a show, you know," Prestige scowled.

"Show's over, Stage Crew. You can't use untested tinkertech on tourists, especially not to cut them apart," Brickhouse snapped.

"He consented. Besides, Showbiz's tech is perfectly safe."

"He came up here before you revealed your finale. Surrender and don't make this worse for yourselves."

"Worse? We're not breaking any laws," Showbiz huffed.

"You're breaking the city busking laws for one. I somehow doubt you have a license. More importantly, we can't let you use untested tinkertech on dangerous stunts," our leader repeated. "You're also wanted for multiple counts of theft, including grand larceny which is a felony crime."

"You really want to do this here?" Masquerade taunted. "See the crowd? Everyone was having a good time until you showed up on your high horse, Brickhouse. Hell, even your game animal and the pint-size over there were enjoying the show."

"We were, until you went too far," Verdeer rumbled.

"Yeah, whatever."

The two parties stared each other down even as Verdeer herded the father back to his children. I fingered my pistol but did as told, better to watch than enter and force them into a confrontation. I stepped away from the tourists a little ways and made to stand perpendicular to a cop car. If I had to, I wanted to catch them in a crossfire with the fuzz.

I was happy to see that a van of PRT troopers had shown up during the festivities. Four troopers stepped out and I couldn't help but think that it was a bit light for backup against an established cape team. They weren't carrying even half the loadout I was used to seeing in Phoenix.

"What's the goal with them?" I asked, dropping the accent. "Arrest them then… what?"

"They haven't killed anyone and respect the unwritten rules. They'll be rebranded and relocated to a different city where they can hopefully use their powers more productively."

I rolled my eyes. 'How typical of the PRT.'

"Understood," I said, voice clipped.

All motivation I had to actually catch them vanished and my pistol went back into its holster. This wasn't about putting bad people in jail, but about getting extra bodies as heroes. A worthy cause perhaps, but I wasn't down with the pressganging. Unless someone was about to die, I resolved myself to not intervene. I wasn't being ordered to after all.

If Hero asked later, I was just obeying orders and learning more about teamwork.

"Now how about we all just pack up and go our separate ways?" Showbiz tried to be the mediator. "We do need a busking license, but hey, no one really cares about that. We haven't actually done anything dangerous today."

"Today," Gold Rush stressed. "You three are a menace."

"Sweetheart, you wound us," he gasped.

"Don't call me sweetheart!"

"Enough. Stop letting them set the pace," Verdeer said.

Two of the eight drones Showbiz had shined the "look at me" spotlights down on the Wards and rogues. The drones manning the curtains cut the projections and joined the other four.

"Six drones behind Showbiz," I warned. "They might be getting ready to cut and run."

Brickhouse nodded but didn't respond. Instead, he squared his shoulders and took a wider stance. "Last chance," he warned.

"I think it's about time for us to leave, don't you?" Prestige drawled to his comrades. "We've worn out our welcome."

"Seems like it," Masquerade eyed me cautiously. "And you. Hyunmu, was it? I'll figure you out next time."

I snorted. That was unlikely.

Showbiz snapped his fingers and the two spotlight drones descended, turning the harsh lights onto my teammates. At the same time, the six drones behind him burst into action. Two of them began spewing smoke and irritants while four created hardlight constructs. Stage prop walls that were usually made of painted cardboard. Chairs. Even a giant cube with question marks on each face. Anything and everything that could reasonably show up as a gimmick emerged and launched themselves towards the Heroes. The drones then compressed into palm-sized discs and tucked themselves in a pouch on Showbiz's lower back.

The crowd reacted predictably. Most of them ran away from the irritating smoke, but one in ten of them stuck around to keep recording. This no longer surprised me about Earth-Bet, but my faith in the survival of my species died a little more each time I saw shit like this.

The three rogues dashed away from the Wards. My teammates were still trying to blink the spots from their eyes when Showbiz whipped a goddamn invisibility cloak out of his ass. It was a rich burgundy but faded into transparency with a flick of his wrist.

I stood there narrating for the PRT agent on comms. "Showbiz has an invisibility cloak of some kind. He covered himself and his teammates. They are not moving very quickly. Should I give chase?"

"Where?" Gold Rush demanded.

"Northeast. To your right. Other right. Turn. Turn a little more. There."

She shot off almost before I could finish. The problem was, she had no idea how far she had to go before running into them and she was still blinking away the flash and smoke, so she ran headfirst into what had to be Prestige's back.

"Hey!"

"Gah!"

"Ow!"

"What the hell?"

The four of them got tangled into the cloak and rolled like a cartoon dust cloud before crashing painfully into a tree. Somewhere in the scuffle, Stage Crew's invisibility cloak fell away.

"When did our patrol turn into a comedy routine?" I heard Brickhouse moan.

"This is fine, at least we can see them now," Verdeer added.

I sighed. I now knew precisely why only Wards were ever sent out against Stage Crew. These guys were jokes. Both sides. I had no doubt that they could be more dangerous if they wanted to be, but it was clear that both parties were playing with kid gloves. Suddenly the civilians with video cameras made more sense.

Brickhouse tapped his feet and stone walls encircled all four downed capes. A moment later, Gold Rush dashed out of the makeshift jail by running straight up the wall.

"Well, that's a wrap."

"Good job, Brickhouse," Agent Mitchell said. "Verdeer, Hyunmu, continue your route. Brickhouse, Gold Rush, join the troopers and escort the prisoners to base."

"Yes, sir," we said together.

But before we could do anything else, I saw Prestige lay a single hand on the wall and the wall turned to so much melted wax. He walked out at the head of the three rogues with an irritated frown on his face.

"Now that was ru - Woah!"

Before he could get his quip in, Gold Rush dashed forward and decked Showbiz in the face. Her form was mediocre at best and she wasn't leveraging her speed nearly as well as she could, but her speed was still enough to send the much heavier man reeling. Frankly, I was surprised she managed to not break her own wrist. She had to have a brute power of some sort, maybe some biological toughness that compensated for her mover rating.

"Gold Rush! Don't go in without us," Brickhouse chided.

"Not the time, leader," Verdeer rumbled as he lowered his horns.

He growled but began to snap out orders. "Gold, containment. Run circles around them."

She did as told, running fast enough that she touched the edge of her own trail. Since the trail of light wasn't a physical object, Prestige couldn't touch it and turn it into something else. It was honestly a clever strategy for containment. Anyone could pass through, but their movement would be slowed relative to Gold Rush's own speed, making running them down a trivial task.

So, Prestige did the only thing he could. He held out his hand and waited until a finger brushed her costume as she dashed by. He pulled his hand back with a wince, even if it wasn't a direct hit, a hundred miles an hour wasn't a joke. Still, the damage was done. She skidded to a stop and crouched low to cover herself as the torso of her costume turned into chains that tried to trip her up.

"Kyaa!" she shrieked as she crouched on the ground to cover up her sudden wardrobe malfunction.

"Showbiz!" Prestige shouted.

"On it!" Their tinker hurled everything he had in his hidden cache.

All eight drones flew at Brickhouse and Verdeer. Brickhouse chucked several stone spears, spearing three out of the air in an impressive display of marksmanship. Verdeer began his charge and his antlers caught another two even as they tried to evade, breaking them apart like matchsticks.

But that was the only distraction they needed because Showbiz waved his wonder-cape and conjured a human-sized cabinet, one with three doors and multiple slots that could be used to insert swords.

"Inside!"

I watched the last of Stage Crew disappear into the cabinet, the remaining drones following after them, just as Verdeer reached them, rendering their magic box into splinters and sparkling wires. I paid no heed to the ongoing dialogue and lamented the fact that we couldn't get a single working sample of tinkertech. If I knew how his Shard bent space, I might be able to improve the constraints of Flashtraption.

When I came back into focus, Brickhouse had created an earthen screen for Gold Rush to hide behind. I was glad to see that the park police were already confiscating phones. This likely raised their rap sheet from larceny to include sexual assault, however accidental. At the very least, Prestige would likely be threatened with the charge. Her being a minor, the police weren't taking no for an answer from any onlookers.

X

The four of us were gathered in a meeting room in the Wards' wing alongside Agent Jeremy Mitchell, our communications officer, and Outreach, one of the available members of the Protectorate. Agent Mitchell looked like a shaved bear, with a beard as large as my head. Outreach wore a skintight bodysuit that in my opinion showed altogether too much. It was white with a blue hand reaching out from his chest done in some pigment that seemed to glow.

The hand-themed hero was one of the two non-tinker members of the District Protectorate. He could fire bolts of light that struck with variable force. Anything hit by his blasts could be pushed or pulled relative to his position.

"Welcome back, kids," he said with a smile. He had a good smile, friendly and warm without appearing condescending. Made sense, with a name like Outreach, he was often a shoe-in for participation in charity events. It made him exceedingly well-liked, but also very vanilla, as though no one expected much of him beyond reading to children at the library, not that there was anything wrong with that.

"Sir," Brickhouse nodded with tired sigh.

Verdeer, Gold Rush, and I took a seat next to our leader. The only one out of costume was Gold Rush who had gotten changed into a Hero-themed hoodie. She still wore the mask though.

"It's always good to start from the top so let's hear it from you. What happened in your words?"

That prompted Verdeer rehashing our patrol and how we encountered them. He mentioned how we decided to take a wait and see approach at the prompting of Agent Mitchell, after which reinforcements were called because I was deemed unfit for actual fieldwork. That still rankled but I let it pass. If that was an example of "actual fieldwork" by their standards, I was happy to be left out.

Sour grapes.

Verdeer's narration ended at the arrival of Brickhouse and Gold Rush.

"Hold on, Verdeer," Outreach stopped him. "Hyunmu, how exactly did you see your teammates arrive?"

"I have a pill that grants temporary pericognition," I replied with my standard refrain. "My field of vision expands spherically up to one hundred meters or one hundred sixty four feet."

"Right, did any of you know this?"

"I did," Brickhouse said. "It's in his file, sir."

"I didn't," Gold Rush pouted, still sulking from her run-in with Prestige. No one got an eyeful or anything, but she wouldn't be getting over it anytime soon.

"Verdeer?"

"I knew he had enhanced senses because I saw him react to tourists and obstacles during our patrol that he shouldn't have been able to see, but I admit I haven't read his file in any real depth either."

"That's a mistake. Correct it," Outreach said sternly. "Not knowing what your teammate can bring to the table is unacceptable, especially for a tinker. Their files get updated practically on the weekly."

"He wasn't even allowed to do anything," Gold Rush huffed.

"Yes," Agent Mitchell chimed in. "But that was on the grounds that none of the Wards were used to working with Hyunmu. That you had no idea he had enhanced senses only proves my point."

"You kids get it so I won't say any more on the matter. Now, Brickhouse, why did you go in?"

"I went in on Agent Mitchell's directions, sir. We decided that the risk of pitched combat was low and that letting Stage Crew use untested tinkertech for a potentially fatal magic trick was riskier than trying to take them down."

"Good. Now let's hear about the fight itself. Brickhouse?"

"Showbiz used his drones to make some kind of irritating smoke and bright light that somehow didn't interfere with each other. He then pulled out an invisibility cloak. Hyunmu was able to see them through the cloak. Gold Rush chased them but tripped and collapsed with all three of them.

"I then trapped them all in a stone cylinder that Gold Rush ran out of. Prestige dismantled the wall by turning it into wax. Gold Rush decked Showbiz. She then ran circles to keep them in her trail. Showbiz used his drones to distract Verdeer and me. Then… Gold Rush had an accident… and then they got away in some kind of teleporter box that Showbiz pulled out."

"Asshole did it on purpose," our mover grumbled. "I'm going to kill him."

"Let's not plan first degrees. We're still a law enforcement agency last I checked," Outreach said dryly. "We'll have to make sure that doesn't happen next time. He'll also have his rap sheet updated."

Gold Rush leaned back into her seat with a huff. "Good."

"Now, let's talk about powers. What exactly did you notice about them that we didn't know previously?"

"Oh! Hyunmu was able to fool Masquerade's thinker power. Any idea how you did that?" Mitchell asked. "Anything that can mess with a thinker is very valuable."

I nodded. I'd thought about how I wanted to phrase this on the way back. "I do. He used his power to play that lying game so many times that it was pretty easy to figure out what his power did. If he hears a false statement, his power tells him what the truth is. Or something very close to that."

"We already knew that."

"Right. So I said that my life's goal was to kill God and his power registered it as true. I mostly said that because I thought it'd get under his skin, but I think there are two possibilities for why my little prank worked.

"First, I'm not religious. Or rather, I think there is a god out there, but I don't ascribe to a concrete faith. Because the world 'god' is a nebulous idea, 'to kill God' with a capital 'g' is likewise an equally ambiguous notion to me. It could be that since I don't really know what I want myself, his power was unable to provide him an answer. In essence, it was a more elaborate version of saying, 'This statement is false.' He then took that silence as truth."

"That… That's very well thought out," Outreach said. "What was the other possibility?"

I waved and my Ymelo glowed. "This. The details are a little complicated, but it's an anti-master tool that's synched to my unique biorhythm. There could have been an unexpected power interaction that kept him from reading me. This would be because his power enhances his cold-reading capabilities. Honestly? It could easily be a mix of both possibilities."

'Or just me trolling him with some harsh truths,' I thought, amused. I couldn't wait to fuck with Tattletale. 2010 couldn't come fast enough in that regard.

"You said it was light-based caffeine during our patrol," Verdeer noted.

"I lied. It's an anti-master ball. If masters don't know I can counter them, having it might let me catch them by surprise."

"And how do we know you're not lying now? You really shouldn't be able to lie so easily."

"Ask Hero," I said with a shrug. "It is as I said. I have no reason to lie to my teammates."

"Only to the public."

"Absolutely."

I thought Verdeer lost a bit of respect he had for me. Regrettable, but I stood by my decision.

Outreach finished taking notes of the encounter. We then moved on to Prestige, though there were no changes from his extant dossier. Showbiz however, had debuted a few new inventions that we didn't know about before, namely the invisibility cloak and a more robust hardlight drone. Apparently, he had used the "look at me" spotlights as distraction while the rest of Stage Crew robbed a bank in the past.

"Good, this is all good information for next time," the Protectorate hero encouraged. "Now the hard part: What did you do wrong?"

The room was silent. I didn't think it was my place to criticize so I remained mum. Agent Mitchell clearly wanted to see what they had to say for themselves so likewise kept his peace. And the rest were teenagers; self-reflection was never going to be a strength of theirs. After a minute of the awkwardness, Brickhouse bit the bullet and spoke up.

"I didn't react in time. No, I wasn't a good enough leader," he admitted sourly. "We were there watching their magic show for several minutes before their finale. I should have taken the time to prepare. I should have told Gold Rush to circle behind them and cut off their escape. Verdeer and I should have hit them from different sides. We had the time to plan and I wasted it."

"It's not all on you, Brick," Gold Rush said. "I'm the one who ran in headfirst. Twice. Just… Showbiz… ughhh!"

"What's your problem with the guy? You looked like you were out for blood," I asked.

"He's a sanctimonious hypocrite."

"He seemed alright though? He didn't do anything egregious that I could tell."

"That's because you're new," Brickhouse filled me in. "He's a lot more polished now, but he wasn't always. In one of his first acts, he made a ring of fire that malfunctioned. It… It got a friend of hers hurt."

"And he still pretends it wasn't his fault!" she exclaimed. "He goes on about how they're gentleman thieves and how they don't hurt anyone. Bullshit!"

I held my hands before me placatingly. "Okay, he's not a good guy. His inventions can be dangerous but not enough for a Protectorate response?"

Brickhouse sighed. "Yep. He's very polished now and some of his antics are funny, but not all."

"Back to the debrief," Outreach tapped his pencil. "Verdeer?"

"We should have involved Hyunmu more," he rumbled. "He could see through their invisibility but only Gold Rush followed him on it."

"You have a point. None of the Wards are familiar with what he can do, but that doesn't mean he's helpless. Brickhouse, you plan for at least two weekly training sessions between the four of you."

"Yes, sir. We already train Monday and Wednesday in the afternoon."

"I'll be there," I promised. "But… Four? What about Whiteout?"

"He doesn't train with us because he's usually on information security detail," my leader explained. "He gets told to shadow ambassadors and whatnot. I think he might have the highest security clearance out of all of us."

"And he's a smug jerk about it," Gold Rush huffed.

"Enough," Outreach chided. "You will not badmouth a teammate. If that's everything, I think we can break for the afternoon."

I left with yet another obligation, but one I'd gladly uphold. While it was time away from tinkering, I was lacking in actual combat experience. There as only so much image training could do for me. I already had a solid foundation; it was time I started building on it.

Author's Note

A bit longer than expected, but I wanted to wrap up Stage Crew's intro scene. I won't lie, I'm not too happy with it. Maybe it's because I'm having a bit of trouble inserting a bit of levity and low-risk combat in an otherwise serious arc. Or maybe I'm just bad at writing fight scenes.

Either way, if you as the readers felt a bit exasperated with Stage Crew and the District Wards, you were supposed to. Andy's personal priority is obviously saving Hero. From the perspective of a protagonist who knows the stakes are high, a fight like this can't help but seem like an unnecessary distraction. Alas, bureaucracy is bureaucracy and there is a limit to how little Andy can show himself in public.

Thank you for reading. Believe it or not, this is the seventh website I've crossposted to. I want to make sure this site catches up with the others, but it's slow, tedious work. Until then, other sites will have a much more updated library of my works. If you want to read ahead, or check out other stories I've written, you can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.