A different kind of whale (Worm/FGO-based Gamer) Chapter 11

1-10 [Deep Blue]

January 9th

“I trust the show was to your sponsor’s satisfaction?”

Lisa tapped the desk with her pen, consulting her cliff notes again. Yesterday was certainly a day, she had to admit. Eventful. 

“You definitely picked his interest, Malefactor.” Very clever, old man. Nothing to do but to sit down and laugh at your clever joke of a secret identity. “Not enough for a private meeting, yet, but enough to consider further cooperation.” She preempted the obvious question.

“That’s fair, I suppose. While a success, the event didn’t go quite as I predicted it would, after all. Big bad wolf was quite disappointing in that regard.” Lisa grimaced, thankful this was not a video call. Being a supervillain meant morality was… flexible, at the best of times, but the absentminded ease with which Malefactor spoke of multiple deaths, how he planned for a butcher’s bill was. Disquieting.

“I suppose that’s what we get for downplaying the heroic types, eh?” She deflected, spinning in her chair, enjoying the feeling for a moment.

“Trust me, young lady, I know heroic types quite well.”

Speaks truth. Didn’t factor the parahumans present because his research led him to believe most of the local population is too browbeaten to make a stand if it’s not to their self interest. Considers it a welcome challenge to try and account for such an uncontrollable variable.

His original world had its own parahumans too, then, even if it didn’t classify them as such. Definitely played by a different rulebook than on Bet.

“I hope your associates realise neither Hookwolf nor Cricket will actually end up at the prisons of their destination?” Not for the first time for Hookwolf either. This would make… what, third time?

“They can handle the attention.” Malefactor chuckled genially. “And it is not like your sponsor would mind that either.”

Coil would also have preferred to have such rising stars strictly under his control, especially for his plans. Unfortunately, with a pretend Thinker as good as Malefactor was proving to be, her boss decided on a more careful approach. Unfortunately. She supposed it would take a bit more than a week and one success, no matter how good, before Coil decided on a direct recruitment attempt.

“If you say so.” Personally, she wouldn’t hold her breath about those two. They were now firmly in the Empire’s crosshairs and in Brockton Bay, that just wasn't a viable survival strategy.

“Since the business portion of this call has concluded, how about something more fun?” Malefactor asked. Lisa hesitated for a moment. Yes, Coil wanted her to keep digging into the old man and yes, said old man’s smug intellectualism was grating. But. Damn if she wasn’t personally invested. Maybe because Malefactor wasn't as much of a cunt about his smarts as Faultline.

“I didn’t think old men liked gossiping like teenage girls, Malefactor~.”

“Dohohoho! You have much to learn yet, my dear. The truth is, us old people can’t handle as much labour so we have a lot of free time.” Another pro over Faultline? He could take the joke and play along.

“So what will it be today? More parahuman gossip? Leaks from PRT’s grapevine? Gang tall tales?”

“I will leave the choice of topic to you, dear Tattletale. By the way, do you think young Bitch could be convinced to accept the gift of a phone? Dear Epopeia misses her first friend.”

“Uh-huh.” And Lisa was painfully horny. “I promise you nothing.”

___________________________________________________________________________

January 10th

“How are you handling things?” Colin twitched slightly at the feminine voice sounding the exact second he came back into his workshop. Allowing himself a slight smile, the (temporarily demoted) leader of Brockton Bay Protectorate shook his head.

“And good day to you too, Dragon. It is rare for me to be the one with better manners.” He greeted his colleague/the only tinker of respectable skill and equal standing to safely count as friend, even as he took off his helmet and rested it on the table.

“It's not every day your friend gets demoted from a leadership position.” The Canadian tinker chided him gently while Colin took to the task of removing the cumbersome portions of his armour. Not like he will need them in the foreseeable future.

“Not every day my boss lets her bias blind her into, frankly, stupid as fuck mistake. And then PR caters to said bias by suggesting a hero in good standing take a reputation hit for her when the media starts digging into said mistake.” He grunted.

Really, Bathory went through all the legal channels, practically by the book. She was exceedingly accommodating during her power testing (even if he suspected she hid some extent of her proficiency, if not the full spread and nature of her powers), revealed her connections to more unaccounted for parahumans by setting the venue all on her own… How did esteemed PRT Director Emily Piggot react to what was, by all signs, a perfect example of a well adjusted and integrated parahuman?

She put a fucking sniper on her.

Just in case another parahuman performer turned out to be a Master, and Masters in Emily Piggot’s city didn’t have a good deal. The ‘subtle’ standing orders to focus on apprehending Hellhound were proof enough. Or the ongoing investigation into Terracotta. God help them once an actual, genuine minion maker/controller triggered.

“Still, isn’t it a standard operating procedure for PRT and Protectorate to present an united front? Especially in a city as troubled as yours?”

Colin snorted, audibly, as he settled down in his very comfy plush chair, the one vanity creature comfort he had allowed himself in his sanctuary, and booted up his Armsphone (young Colin Wallis was shameless nerd, he will readily admit).

“Maybe if the rest of PRT and Protectorate gave a damn about our situation, I would be more willing to consider the party line over personal image.” He opened up the folder containing his local parahuman directory. He had to update the thing, after all. “Did you know the Protectorate in Anchorage has four  Brutes? And three more in their Wards?”

“A bit of a weird tangent, but yes. Why do you ask?”

“Anchorage. Important city, yes, but it’s also Alaska. A frozen ass end of nowhere.” Colin allowed himself to grouch. “Meanwhile in Brockton Bay, one of the most parahuman dense cities in the United States? Guess how many Brutes the Protectorate has in the Nazi Capital of North America?” He didn’t wait for her to reply. Both of them knew the answer and that he was just venting. “One. With one more in the Wards.” And Challenger needed a very problematic way of ramping up before she could really wade into hails of gunfire and knife storms. “Brute, the single most common parahuman category, and we have only one. The Empire has, depending on how precisely you count, four. Three right now.” Colin also expected Hookwolf to never reach the Birdcage and be back on the streets within a month. “ABB has one, true, but Lóng, for all of his lack of notoriety, is an impressive one. I would say two, but Kanabo is smart enough to stay out of crime due to her mutations.”

“I suspect Oni Lee makes Kaiser a little bit hesitant to go all out as well.” Dragon commented mildly.

“Obviously. At least without a Tinker, they can’t make him a real threat to the Empire’s precious Brutes. Glory Girl is affiliated with us, at least, through Gallant but is still her own person. And now we have Bathory who is completely uninterested in cape business.” In addition to god knows how many other, pretty much nameless, Brutes in the city who would rather not come forward. Colin might be obviously predisposed towards appreciating the potential Tinkers brought to the table the most, but he wasn’t stupid. A Tinker needed time and dedication to become valuable and dangerous. A Brute was someone you could trust to stand between you and lethal danger much quicker and stay there much longer.

Lethal danger like, say, a gang of white supremacists with no compunctions about using lethal force against their opponents. Or even just a gangbanger with a gun and a bit of dumb, stupid luck. Poor Exuberant.

“So… about that ‘discount Myrddin’ I have been hearing on the internet?” Dragon, bless her heart, decided to change the subject in a way that felt somewhat natural to the progression of their talk. And also the subject of Colin’s major revision.

“Almost definitely another facet of Epopeia’s power.” He answered. Changers usually weren’t that frustrating. True, their alternate forms had their own separate ranking, usually Brute or Stranger, but Epopeia just seemed to win the lottery here. “And she probably has more in her pocket, hidden for a rainy day. Even if I’m willing to bet Violet is her biggest bullshit.”

“What makes you think there's more?”

“Colour theory.”

“I think it’s a little bit late to prevent her red form from visiting hospitals~.” He snorted. Good one. A classic. “Still, you are taking Director Piggot rescinding your command authority and putting you under house arrest remarkably well. I thought you would be… angrier.”

“Oh no. Locking a Tinker in their workshop and making sure they don’t have casual disruptions.” He mock-deadpanned, looking up. Even if Dragon couldn’t see him, it paid to keep up the motions of socialisation just to not get rusty there. “What a terrible fate for us.”

His attempt at humour was rewarded with the sound of Dragon’s giggle. A win for him. He was improving.

“Besides, if anything, with me making it clear that I was against stationing any oversight for Bathory’s concert, there’s a chance that my reputation will, in fact, improve.” He added with a nod of his head.

“Despite the fact there was an Empire attack on the event? Not many deaths, but if not for Panacea being present, the wounded alone would make this a serious disaster.”

Colin shook his head. “While they are attacking the PRT, the press somehow managed to piece two and two together and figured out there was no way we could’ve predicted the Empire showing up. Despite PR’s best attempts, everyone is well aware we are not all-knowing. Their attacks are focusing on the Director's apparent anti-parahuman paranoia. The best case scenario, of course, would be the Empire not showing up at all, but if Militia wasn’t stationed there and the attack still happened, we could’ve at least chalked it up to the aforementioned lack of omniscience. Hell, if Militia, somehow, managed to drop Hookwolf and Stormtiger we could’ve still spun it well enough I would be willing to bite that bullet.”

“Instead, all the credit went to the unaffiliated capes.”

Colin nodded. “The kid that died, which by the way, Bathory paying recompense for is going to be brilliant PR to her. Epopeia, not that many will realise it’s her. Kanabo, who was at best, a small-time tourist attraction. And Glory Girl, which given New Wave’s history of success and personal vendetta against the Empire made her involvement in preventing Stormtiger from joining the fray and taking down Hookwolf much more natural. As a private citizen and a known extrovert, her going to a novelty concert isn’t suspicious at all.”

“Considering her online reputation, it’s not the extraversion she is most known about.” Dragon pointed out dryly.

The Protectorate was bound by the law. Perhaps it was bound by it a little too tight. Between the law, the Unwritten Rules and the spectre of Endbringers hanging over them all, Protectorate wasn’t as effective as it could’ve been. It grated, being part of an inefficient system that could be improved with a few small, logical changes. But Colin had been part of it since the beginning and damnit, he would try his best to succeed from within it.

“Ah, I have to go. See you around, Colin. Don’t anger Piggot further while I’m gone, okay?” Snorting, Colin shook his head.

“Don’t worry, I doubt I can get to anything too bad for her liver in the confines of my workshop.”

As Dragon disconnected, he put the Armsphone away and leaned back into his chair, closing his eyes. It really looked like small, tight-knit groups of vigilantes were better at dealing with parahuman crime than the organisation founded specifically to deal with it in an official capacity. What a joke. Only good at failing to stop the Endbringers a little bit less than if any single target went at it alone.

___________________________________________________________________________

January 12th

Eli-chan @Bloody_Pure_Idol

Despite some shitheels, yesterday was a huge success! Thanks to @Parian, my lovely assistant,(1/6)

Eli-chan @Bloody_Pure_Idol

and miss Xiangliu for handling the crowd for minimal injuries. Panacea was a huge help too! (2/6)

Eli-chan @Bloody_Pure_Idol

Finally, thanks to @New_Wave_Glory and @Baseball_Demon for helping with the big bad of the event. (3/6)

Eli-chan @Bloody_Pure_Idol

We’ve got a good profit so after giving city council their cut and @Parian her pay (4/6)

Eli-chan @Bloody_Pure_Idol

I snooped out juuuust a little. I know money won’t bring him back, but the family of the cape who initially stopped Hookwolf has been compensated with 20% of the profits from this. (5/6)

Eli-chan @Bloody_Pure_Idol

Stay tuned for my next event! Hopefully, this time with only good memories to be made! Chu~, chu~! (6/6)

Katsumi shook her head as she dialled the number and put the call on the speaker before putting her phone away and closed her eyes. Bathory was very gracious in her victory. Katsumi found out she herself went from a minor attraction for people with clear interests in certain things to minor local internet celebrity overnight. Even if she and Epopeia shared the meme space of doing Things to Hookwolf. Hell, New Wave was getting a surge in popularity too. Or was it a renewal? Didn’t matter. Stonks were on the rise, even as PRT’s took a dip.

Honestly, Katsumi didn’t even know Miss Militia was overseeing the event until after everything was over, once PRT vans finally rolled in to foam Hookwolf and Cricket and take the two nazis in, and even then, only because Militia joined back with Armsmaster and Dauntless (apparently the only two heroes Protectorate trusted to handle Hookwolf). 

She raised her hand above her head and closed it into a fist, watching carefully. She fought Hookwolf and won. With assistance, yes. She wasn’t the one to deliver the final blow, true. But she fought the guy with multiple parahuman deaths on his sheet, alone, for a fair bit. And here she was, without even needing Panacea to do her.

The thought was intoxicating.

She could understand why so many new parahumans went out and got themselves killed. A little bit better than previously, at least. Feeling able to make a difference was a drug like no other. Change and fame over safety and comfort…

“Hello?” The call finally connected and she was answered by the smooth, male voice. Right, time to see about those changes she wanted to be part of.

“I’d like to request a meeting. Katsumi here… Kanabo for this, I suppose…”

___________________________________________________________________________

January 12th

“Nice place. Cosy.” Sabah shook her head slightly as she put down the refreshments on the small table in her hideout. It’s rather obvious Bathory was being polite, because Sabah knew what her hideout was like. Small, cramped, with bits of cloth and plush hanging around absolutely everywhere. Very colourful as a side effect, but it’s not like she put any actual thought behind how she arranged it all. With her power, she could afford to be lazy.

“Thank you.” She replied instead, taking a seat on the opposite side from the self styled idol. She smoothed some wrinkles on her costume before folding her hands on her lap and focusing on the unmasked parahuman. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me. I imagine that despite the… interruption we had, the success of the event left you busy?”

The pinkette in front of her snorted and waved her hand, wiggling in her seat to get more comfortable. Downsides of a tail, Sabah supposed. “Things aren’t that busy. A good start, but just a start. It will take time for the fanbase to build up enough that I will need to either spend a lot more of my personal time interacting with them or find someone to take care of that for me. And this meeting, it’s the least I could’ve done for my lovely assistant~.” Sabah ducked her head slightly, feeling her face heat up a little under her mask. It was barely a compliment, but Bathory’s mannerism made even such a simple gesture touch a little bit deeper.

“Especially since I’ve roped you into a little bit more work than just taking care of stage effects. Took a bit of a gamble there, but you do have a lovely voice and it really helped a few of my songs.” Mostly because Bathory was a damn slave driver when it came to preparing her songs.

“Which is part of what I wanted to talk about with you. A single event with you netted me more success and recognition than the past few years of solo work, even with you taking centre stage twice over.” It was, honestly, frustrating, but Sabah could recognise an out of her current rut when she saw it.

“You want to extend our partnership.” Bathory stated as she put one of her legs over another. Rather obvious where Sabah was leading, she supposed. “I’m not saying no, not right away, but…” Bathory shook her head before focusing her gaze on Sabah, one pink-nailed finger tapping the side of her arm. The woman’s tail settled down on the floor underneath the table. “Why?”

For fame, obviously. So obvious that it was clearly not what Bathory was actually asking about. But the actual meat of her reply relied on her identity. Her true identity. Could she really trust a woman she effectively knew for a week?

She suppressed a snort. 

Bathory was her ticket to achieving her goal. If she was about to use her, she really should give her that much at least. Especially as Bathory herself had no secret identity. It was only fair that, if they were to be partners, they didn’t have that kind of divide between them.

Slowly, she unhooked her mask and took her wig off, setting them to the side. Bathory observed her, eyes sharp, sharper than a moment before even as she nodded silently to herself, as if confirming something.

“My name is Sabah. I want to… open the dialogue, I guess. About making assumptions about capes based purely on their appearance. But for that, there needs to be a big disconnect between Parian and Sabah, and Parian needs to be very well known, so it doesn’t get dismissed, or treated like a milquetoast flash in the pan.”

“Sounds risky.” Bathory commented eventually, tilting her head.

“I know that. I'm just one woman, so there’s always the chance I will simply be drowned by something…”

“No, not that.” Bathory snorted, a dismissive wave of her hand flipping a lock of her pink hair. The next moment, she was leaning over the table, her face close to Sabah’s. So close she could see the other woman’s slightly slit pupils. “Have you really thought about doing that kind of stunt in the city of a white supremacy gang?” Bathory asked scathingly as she reached out and poked her sharp nail against Sabah’s chest. “All the while you refuse to fight, so you don’t even really know how to use your power in combat?” Another poke, a little bit higher. “Especially since the Empire has a history of going after parahumans in their homes?”

…

God, when she put it all out like that, it did sound stupid. Suicidally so. The concern Bathory displayed by pointing that out was touching, at least.

“I…”

“No, you didn’t.” Bathory cut her off, pressing a finger against Sabah’s lips. “Of course you didn’t.” The other woman repeated softly. “People your age rarely have a clear vision and when things are bad, any idea looks good.” The demoness shook her head. “Far be it from me to hold one’s idealism over their head, but there’s chasing a dream and there’s wandering off to your death.”

Sabah finally breathed out when Bathory pulled back, the other cape’s hands leaving Sabah’s body. Only for her heart to leap all the way up her throat when the pinkette grabbed Sabah’s end of the table and with a soft grunt pulled herself up, sliding over the table. Somehow, with enough strength to raise her over the cutlery (even her tail sliding right behind managed to avoid doing more than just spilling the tea) before Bathory unceremoniously dropped herself on Sabah’s lap.

“Wai-...”

“Here’re my terms, then, dear Sabah.” She couldn’t help but shudder at the edge in that cheerful voice, at how firmly Bathory’s hands were gripping her shoulders without the nails piercing the skin. Her face felt like she spent way too long in the sun. “First. You will learn how to fight.” Bathory stated as she loomed over Sabah, pinning her down. “Just so I can sleep at night without having to keep you chained to my bed.”

“Eeeep!”

That was entirely the wrong sound to let out of her lips, Sabah realised. Bathory blinked, as if seeing her for the first time, before grinning. A grin so smug it kinda reminded Sabah of Tattletale, except with a whole lot more teeth showing. Bathory’s grip on one of her shoulders relaxed before her hand moved across Sabah’s neck until the other girl was cupping her chin.

“Oh~?”

“T-t-t-too c-close!” Sabah protested hoarsely as Bathory bowed down until their noses were almost touching.

“When I think about it.” Bathory whispered, moving her head so that her lips were almost on Sabah’s ear (she did not whimper). Their cheeks, on the other hand, were, and Sabah’s burned. “It’s a shame to not share such a lovely face with the world. B-uuuuu-t~.”

“Aaaah-!” Something warm and wet sid across Sabah’s earlobe and her heart did its best to burst in her chest.

Bathory’s tongue trailed slowly, agonisingly slowly, from Sabah’s ear down her jaw, while the hand which was holding Sabah’s chin went down. And down.

“Mhm~.” The pinkette hummed approvingly as she squeezed Sabah’s breast through her costume. “There is something to be said for having exclusive access.”

So close. Sabah couldn’t think straight with how close Bathory’s mouth was to hers. So close. 

‘Please, just go on.’ She managed a desperate, needy thought as she stared right back into those deep, blue eyes sparkling with amusement and gazing with sharp, hungry intent at her. Then, all thought fled when she felt Bathory’s tail slide up her leg, under her dress, wrapping itself tightly around Sabah’s thigh.

“!”

“Yes~. That’s an excellent expression, darling~.” Bathory continued as her hand kneaded Sabah’s breast. “Now… tell me what you want.”

She could only whimper needily, incapable of even cursing her own indecisiveness. She opened her mouth but couldn’t find the words. Her hands twitched only to freeze when she encountered Bathory’s knees on the sides of her lap.

“Nothing?” Bathory pulled her head back and Sabah groaned in protest. She was so close! “That’s not a no~.” She chirped before bowing again, and before Sabah could really process what was happening, there was something wet and long pushing into her mouth, wrestling her own tongue.

She closed her eyes as she let the other cape take control, barely managing a rational thought enough to let her own hands wander up Bathory’s legs. A muffled gasp escaped her as she felt pinkette’s tail loosen a little so it could slide further, until the tip was brushing against Sabah’s underwea-

!

“Mwuaaaa~” She was vaguely aware she clenched Bathory’s thighs hard as the split tip of the other woman’s tail brushed against Sabah’s covered pussy. And. Kept. Rubbing. One small mercy that the horned girl broke the kiss so Sabah could gast for air her poor, overstimulated heart needed. “Ah!”

Bathory, not one to be idle, let her mouth wander to Sabah’s neck, heating Sabah’s skin with her ministrations, with greedy kisses and hungry licks, with how she sucked on Sabah’s skin as if it was a particularly tasty treat.

And her hands! The woman occupying her lap worked fast, and before Sabah knew it, the top of her costume was being slid down her arms, leaving her bare skin exposed for Bathory to slather with wet, sloppy kisses too, her teeth nibbling on Sabah’s shoulders without biting down.

“P-pwleees!” She whined, awkwardly jerking her hips under Bathory’s weight when the woman removed her tail from between Sabah’s thighs to instead wrap it around her stomach, just under her breasts, pushing them up. Sabah dared to open her eyes to look in wonder at where the other girl arced Sabah’s body for a a better access to Sabah’s breasts. 

Bathory just grinned impishly. “Shush, sweetie~.” Her whisper was accentuated with her tongue flicking against Sabah’s nipple. “Let me have a taste test before I dive in for the main course~.” M-main cour- ooooh~.

Bathory hummed happily, mouth sucking onto her breast while her free hand slid underneath Sabah’s dress and into her panties. Long, manicured fingers spread her, stealing Sabah’s breath as a digit and then two slid into her already wet folds and started moving, poking and probing Sabah’s insides, eliciting all manner of sounds to escape her throat. She barely had the presence of mind to grab the back of Bathry’s head.

To press harder into her breasts? To desperately try and push her lower?

She moaned loudly as Bathory’s fingers inside her curved and scraped against her walls. A shuddering breath was all she could draw before Bathory was kissing her again, pushing her tongue all the way down Sabah’s throat.

“Mwah~. I knew you had a lovely singing voice.” Pinkette teased a moment later, blue eyes staring with naked hunger at Sabah’s burning face. Her fingers inside Sabah kept up, heat and tension building up inside her with every motion and twitch… C-close! She was so close!

She whined again when Bathory removed her hand from Sabah’s crotch. She opened her mouth to protest, to beg, but the pinkette pressed a finger glistening with Sabah’s juiced against her lips. Inadvertently, Sabah stuck her tongue out and licked the digit. Bathory observed her with curious indulgence, letting Sabah take both of the fingers the woman used to bring her to the edge into her mouth. She sucked on the liquid with closed eyes, slathering Bathory’s nails with her saliva, hoping she was making it suggestive enough the other girl would go back.

After a moment, Bathory took her fingers out of Sabah’s mouth with a smile. “Good girl~.” She praised her. “I guess we are both ready for the main event, then~?”

Then she slid off Sabah and onto the floor, easily spreading Sabah’s legs and hiking her skirt up. A finger hooked against the edge of her panties and slid them aside. Bathory looked Sabah in the eyes as she gave her thighs a solid squeeze and a kiss, before the horned woman, gazes still locked with shuddering Sabah, slowly dove between the latter’s legs and planted a kiss on her lower lips.

Sabah gasped loudly, and then groaned as Bathory pressed lips firmly against her folds and pushed her tongue in. Her hands found pinkette’s horns and grabbed onto them as she weakly tried to press the other cape harder against her wet, needy pussy. A muffled laugh was her only response before Bathory’s tongue started moving, exploring her folds.

Sabah saw white, her legs jerking but held firmly in place by Bathory’s hands as the woman made good on her promise to make her sing.