1091/A Dark, Distorted Mirror

A Dark, Distorted Mirror
Date of Scene:	06 December 2014
Location:	Brockton Bay
Synopsis:	Armsmaster gets an uninvited visitor with dire consequences, and three Unionites do their very best to save him.
Cast of Characters:	20, 236, 554, 569

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Defiant (554) has posed:
     It's a dark and stormy night in Brockton Bay. Harsh winds and thick rain batters the city, the entire city lit up by flashes of lightning and rumbling thunder. The Protectorate headquarters is sealed up, with the only way in or out being throught the main foyer.

     So, who is this Mannequin, and how did they get inside? More importantly, how did they get all the way to Armsmaster's floor without alerting security?

     A team of PRT officers armed with containment foam sprayers meet the Union Elites in the foyer. A woman's voice, Canadian by the accent, "Elevator, now. I'm patching you into the feed from the room."

     Armsmaster is still shouting, but who can tell what the target of his ire is. "I'm a fucking /soldier! I made a call that could have saved millions of lives! Billions! You're ten times as fucked up as I thought you were if you think I belong in your group!"

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     A purple star burns in the night sky, leaving a trail of ash and cinders in its wake. It's not a star, but an Exalt, responding to a threat. The wind roars in his ears, the rain stings his forehead and plasters his short hair to his head. The lightning comes close a few times, and each flash brings about a stunning portrait of his pallid face, locked into a scowl.

He lands in the parking lot with a thud, the arfid chip in his trench coat broadcasting an IFF signal. Through the main doors he goes, into the foyer. He waits, tersely, his hands clasped behind his back in a picture of rigid authority. "Noted," he replies to the woman. A direction to move in is like a chain being cut. Almost immediately, he heads for the elevator.

Toph Beifong (20) has posed:
    This was the worst timing ever. Nice, lazy Sunday afternoon on the couch with movies and snacks, interrupted by Armsmaster babbling like a madman.

    This /better/ be important.

    There's a wet and grumpy earthbender that has shown up at the Protectorate HQ, wet hair clinging to her face, clothes slightly damp as she marches into the foyer with forceful steps. Arriving with the other elites, Toph offers them a brief nod accented with a stern grunt, though it's obviously not them her annoyance is directed at. She doesn't know what they mean with Mannequin, but if this guy has started playing with dolls he must have snapped. Though... could it be a bad cape or something? Who knows. Either way, they will have to deal with it.

    Toph leads the way into the elevator, her steps quick. "Haven't heard your voice before," she mutters as the female voice is heard. Who is this? "Just how long has that dunderhead been acting like this? Is there anybody else in the room with him?"

Auron (236) has posed:
    That woman's voice mentioned a 'Mannequin', and said she was concerned with this person killing Armsmaster. Someone who could outright kill Armsmaster, someone that they weren't just barging in and taking down immediately, was probably someone that he should worry about. Someone that is SERIOUS bad news. That in mind, Auron's worn his Sentiment's Slicker to this call, remembering how it had saved his life last time.

    The patch-in to the feed in the room makes him wonder... who is Armsmaster talking to? His remaining eye narrows. And he asks Dragon, "...What exactly is going on?" He won't know how to help Armsmaster if he doesn't know that, after all.

Defiant (554) has posed:
     The Union Elites get the first elevator. A panel on the wall reveals itself as a screen of some sort and it begins flipping through what must be the feeds from the various security cameras in the room. It alights on Armsmaster - out of his armor, a short blade held in one hand, standing behind his workshop table - as he glowers at something that is out of the view of the camera. He's breathing heavily, teeth bared. "Listen to me, you psychopath!"

     He's terrified.

     "There is," Dragon says. "It's Mannequin. He's a member of the Slaughterhouse Nine. The consensus is that they're in Brockton Bay to replace their ninth member and Mannequin targets Tinkers exclusively. Colin! Quiet! They're in the building, they'll be there to help you in two minutes - maybe less! Don't provoke him!"

     Armsmaster screams at Mannequin, "I'm NOTHING like YOU! I didn't date, I didn't have kids, because I wanted to be out there, helping! I knew that any attachments could be used against me, so I went without! I was fucking smart enough to do that! Fucking answer me!"

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     The elevator feels like an eternity. If it weren't for the monitor and Dragon's transmission, it'd be something even worse--a silent eternity. Bitter Medicine's hands forcibly unclench themselves.

     The time to prove himself to the Union has come and passed. Having assisted in the fight against Leviathan, the time has now come to prove himself to a friend. Is Armsmaster a friend? Maybe. If anyone in the multiverse deserves to be called such, it's him. They've fought together, bled together, insulted each other. More than anything, the Exalt sees a kindred spirit. A man with conviction, ever struggling with the constant demands of justice.

     One hand over the other, both rising to his chest. "Hoooh." He releases a breath, envisioning his chakras as his Essence travels along each meridian. At the trough of the movement, his hands interlock and form a sacred Autochthonian mudra. Banish anxiety, banish fear, banish mercy. Embody the cold justice of the Thousand-Wound Gear.

     He's ready.

Toph Beifong (20) has posed:
    One of the guys might feel so gracious as to let Toph know what's going on on the screen. One thing Toph can tell though is that Armsmaster sounds freaking terrified and like he's about ready to snap. "I take it that these Slaughterhouse Nine aren't a group you Protectorate guys share views with..." Not if you go by the name and how Armsmaster is reacting to him. Though one thing does catch her by surprise.

    ... /Colin/? What a weird name.

    But now Toph gets a brief idea along with the other Elites in the elevator what is going on. "Let me know if there's anything in the air." Toph does not sound afraid at all, though her expression is stern. The girl is a fighter after all, and whoever this Mannequin is... he is literally begging for something to the noggin'. "I can sense metal all around us. If this Mannequin guy is here, I'll focus on restraining him."

Auron (236) has posed:
    At what cost should 'greater good' come? That's a good question.

    Auron understood Armsmaster's decision. He had been in a similar place not long ago... a little over two years, in fact. Having to choose between manipulating the hearts of his best friends' children, and letting them continue the cycle that had ripped their world apart for a thousand years. He expected to disappear, to finally be able to die. He didn't expect to come back, to have to face it.

    He frowns. Turns his thoughts back to the present. "What do we need to know about this person?" Auron inquires. "What should we watch out for?" They have a bit of time before they get to where they can help him, so they might as well hear something useful about this 'Mannequin' in the meantime, right?

Defiant (554) has posed:
     They can hear Dragon still trying to bring Colin back down to being sensible. "Colin, stop - please!"

     She turns her attention back to the elevator. On the security footage, Colin still isn't moving and the elevator is close. He just needs to keep it together for a few moments more...

     "They're super-powered serial killers," Dragon tells Toph. "They are one of the most serious threats our world faces. Officially, the Protectorate classes them as an S-class threat, the same as an Endbringer. Mannequin is a Tinker. Formerly Alan Gramme with a speciality in closed systems. After the Simurgh attacked, he went mad. Literally sealed himself away."

     Which is probably what Toph is feeling. There's something in the room with Armsmaster, possibly humanoid, although all Toph might be able to sense is bits of metal. Not enough to be a whole body, not by a long shot.

     And Armsmaster's expression changes, going from scared to goading. "You want to compare us, freak? Maybe we both had bad days. Days where nothing went right, days where we were too slow, too stupid, too weak, unprepared or tired. Days we'll look back on the rest of our fucking miserable lives, wondering what we would have done different, what we could have done better, how things could have played out."

     On the security camera, Armsmaster tilts his chin in an incredibly contemptuous gesture. "The difference between us is that I actually did something with my life, and I'm still trying to do more while I serve my sentence! You started your big projects, got every fucking person in the world to get their hopes up, and then you failed to finish ANYTHING because you couldn't hack it when your family got killed!"

     Armsmaster spits venom at Mannequin, just as the elevator 'dings'. "You insult their fucking memories every motherfucking second you exist like this!"

     Three things happen at once. Mannequin leaps towards Armsmaster, arms flashing, and Dragon screams, and the elevator doors slide open.

     Standing over Armsmaster - Colin - Mannequin's white feet are marred by thick red blood. He resembles his namesake. A white department store Mannequin, made of segments and ball joints. Sickingly, one can see bifurcated organs and technology inside the clear chest cavity. The face is white and expressionless with only shallow eye sockets.

     Mannequin raises one finger, and wags it at the Union Elites in a patronising gesture. He sways softly on his feet, and his other limb takes up Armsmaster's disintegration knife.

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     The attack happens in slow motion. Of course Armsmaster would die just as the Exalt began to consider him worth trusting. Gulak has robbed him of the ability to mourn. Bitter Medicine, indeed, his entire Caste, can't have the happiness so freely enjoyed by the others. It always comes second-hand, or as a cheap imitation. So many dead countrymen, killed by cults or by his own hand after joining those cults. He steps out of the elevator.

     He can't mourn. But he can hate. This would-be automaton has killed his first and only friend. It has killed before, and will kill again. "...and now you have the audacity to mock us." His hand clenches so loud as to make the leather audible.

     His Plasma Thruster Array activates just outside the elevator, sending a tremor through the floor and scorching it. His hand rears back, fingers outstretched, telegraphing his intent to grasp--to crush.

Toph Beifong (20) has posed:
    Serial killers. Great. Toph reaches a hand out to place it on the elevator wall, and she frowns. "I won't be able to see properly what's going on in the room until we're there," she warns Bitter and Auron. The elevator isn't directly touching the metal around it, which makes it impossible for vibrations to carry. All she can sense is that there is metal all around them in the building... but not what's touching the metal. "Armsy sounds like he's about to snap..." Is that concern on Toph's face?

    The moment the elevator dings and the doors open, Toph ducks low and brings one foot forward and keeps her arms in a defensive position, slamming it onto the floor as the vibrations carry out through the room. They bounce off the items as well as the two figures there, and her eyes narrow. No word is said even as the realities of the scene slam her in the face. Armsmaster's heart is beating quickly. /Too/ quickly. The figure standing over him is twisted and mocking them. But what's more... there's metal there.

    An angry look crosses Toph's face as she throws her arms forward, twisting her hands inwards and towards each other as she reaches out to the metal there in the twisted figure's joints, at the knife he is holding... and she yanks her hands upwards, doing her best to make it fall backwards away from Armsmaster and lock its joints up to prevent it from acting.

    This is no time to be hesitating. Armsmaster is /dying/!

Auron (236) has posed:
    Auron does understand. Or at least, he thinks he does. Perhaps Armsmaster -- or Colin, rather -- doesn't see a future for himself. Neither did Auron, after Braska died and Jecht became Sin. Hence why he confronted Yunalesca on his own. He wasn't wanting answers. He wanted death. Could that be what caused Armsmaster to snap just then?

    The door opens and Mannequin leaps on Armsmaster. The attack is so quick that he doesn't have time to react. He does, however, have time to activate the Sentiment's Slicker. And while Bitter Medicine and Toph go after Mannequin, Auron tries to go over to Armsmaster. Phoenix Down time! It won't bring him back if he's dead, but it will stabilize him temporarily.

Defiant (554) has posed:
     Armsmaster tries to push himself up with his one good arm. Is that... Toph? And Bitter? And Dragon...? "No! No, no, no! Colin! Stay awake! I need you!" They sound so far away. If he could just stand up, he could do something... but he's so tired.

     Mannequin steps away from Armsmaster. The villain's movements are jerky and halting, like a stop-motion puppet. That is, until he's suddenly preternaturally graceful, slipping past Bitter's attempt to crush him. When Toph grips the metal in his knuckles, Mannequin loses his grip on the nanothorn blade - it goes flying, still active, and slips through the windows and shutters of the Protectorate HQ like thin air. The wind howls loudly through the lab.

     Recovering from the blow, Mannequin thrusts his arms forwards - and they extend on long lengths of chain, long blades extended from the palms. He whirls his arms like flails, the blades drawing sparks as they scythe along walls, floor and ceiling, trying to bring down both Toph and Bitter!

     Auron finds Armsmaster where he had been struck down. His wounds are bad. Multiple stab wounds to the torso, chest and shoulder, one across his face. He's lost an eye. The Phoenix Down will keep him stable.

     Protectorate officers rush into the room, heading right for Armsmaster, behind the Elites, but they keep their distance from the brawl. Looks like they're applying first aid, trying to arrange for a more permanent degree of medical stability. Mannequin, for his part, doesn't seem to pay them any mind.

Toph Beifong (20) has posed:
    Good, the blade is gone, but... oh you gotta be kidding!

    Well, if there are chains, then who better to handle it than a metalbender? Toph steps forward and throws her arms forward to focus on the chains and the blades, doing her best to bend them against Mannequin himself and possibly wrap the chains around the twisted figure.

    "BITTER!" she calls out. Maybe he can take advantage if she manages to keep the blasted thing still enough! A droplet of sweat runs down the side of her face as she concentrates, focusing all she can on the chains and to keep the damn abomination from getting to them!

    Behind her she can feel the officers rush in. And Auron is there with Armsmaster, good... he needs help just as much as they need to stop this thing!

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     Chemical Fog Generator? Useless in this situation. Sixth Dexterity Augmentation... promising. The bladed hand is quicker than he expects, so much so that he'll have to be on the defensive if he doesn't find an opening to exploit. Exalted are not designed for long fights, least of all Autochthon's Chosen. The Alchemical turns forty-five degrees.

     The killer's blades flirt with Bitter's abdomen, piercing the conditioned synth-leather of his trench coat. The luminous substance which serves as 'blood' for the Exalt stains the floor. There's only a split second to act with a foe this fast.

     Bitter Medicine turns and faces the implement as it rushes past him, then snaps out an arm--not for the cape's hand, but for the chain to which it is attacked. There is almost certainly, he reckons, some method of defense Mannequin has against this obvious strategy, but the Multiverse has tought him not to make assumptions about /anyone./ He assists Toph, using all of the might in his right arm to try and wrap the cape up in his own weapon. Oomph. A herculean shove.

     His left hand readies Voidbane.

Auron (236) has posed:
    Good, Mannequin is letting them tend to Armsmaster. The Phoenix Down is a tiny, brittle feather inside a glass ball, easily crushed in a hand, and when done so, it becomes a glittering dust that he tosses on Armsmaster. That should keep him stable 'till the medics can help him.

    Of course, aside from chi manipulation, Auron has no medical training. So he stays out of their way. He takes up position between Mannequin and the medics, making a human wall that would have to be cut through to get to any of the medics. He'll attack soon enough. But not until Armsmaster is safe.

Defiant (554) has posed:
     Toph and Bitter bend Mannequin's chained limb around him. The chain pops free from both sides of each limb, the forearm and hands clattering to the ground. Mannequin steps back and, with a buzz of electromagnets, the limbs slot neatly back into their respective elbow joints. All that technology, in such a small frame... It might evoke comparison with Armsmaster's own abilities.

     He backs away, clawed toes ticking acrosss the floor. Mannequin raises his hands, spitting darts at Toph and Bitter which punch deep enough into the walls and floor to give no uncertainty that they might go straight through a normal person.

     Dragon can be heard, giving frantic instructions to the PRT officers. Two of them stand next to Auron, containment foam throwers raised and ready. The others get Colin off the floor and clear aside a work table to get him lying flat. Colin moans something unintelligble. The bleeding doesn't seem as bad, but there's no way his heart, lungs and stomach are in good condition. "He needs surgery," Dragon reports, "But we don't have the resources here to do anything more but keep him stable. Union!"

Toph Beifong (20) has posed:
    Surprise flashes across Toph's face as she feels the chains pop free, and she grits her teeth and struggles... but to not avail, the limbs manage to get back into their slots. What is up with this messed up thing?!

    The blind girl steps forward, and she raises her arms just a moment after Mannequin does, about to do a split palm push, but that's when the darts are fired. Not anticipating this attack, the blind girl is caught up surprise as one of the darts go through her arm and another through her side, drawing a pained cry of surprise from Toph as her eyes widen. Her free hand goes to her side, and she winces as she raises her foot and slams it into the floor... which peels upwards, aiming to trap Mannequin against the wall behind him. "AURON!" It's time to get moving, old man!

    She hears Dragon easily enough, and the earthbender yells back. "Take him to Njorun! I have told them to be ready to treat him!"

Auron (236) has posed:
    Auron nods to Dragon's words. And when Toph attempts to trap Mannequin, Auron looks to the medics and then jerks his head to the door. "Go." He'll cover their retreat. He's built like a tank, and he has the effect of that Sburbian coat active too. It's going to take a lot to take him down, even in Mannequin gets free.

Defiant (554) has posed:
     The floor peels upwards, catching Mannequin and driving the Tinker serial killer right into the window behind him. The glass cracks and Mannequin reaches up with one clawed hand, the talons ripping long gouges in the window with an ear-piercing shriek. Are those... letters? His leg bends upwards in a movement that'd be impossible for a regular person, a limb without ball joints, and he kicks back against the glass. It cracks, fractures running up the entirety of the surface.

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     Clang. The Exalt assumes Thousand Wounds Gear Form and brings his chakram to bear, using it as a small target shield. Clang, clang clang. His movements embody precision and efficiency, with not a single step out of place or sinew misused.

     This thing fights like an Alchemical. Bitter Medicine leaps into the air, utilizing his artificially acquired mastery of acrobatics to flip his body frontward. As his feet face the ceiling, he activates his Gravity Manipulation Apparatus and flies upward, his personal gravity having changed.

     This bastard thinks he's going to get away. No--not going to happen. An example must be made. A message must be sent. Autochthon's Chosen recognize the rightful order of other worlds. "Who were your favored pray, killer? Scientists? Teachers? Men? Women?" He charges towards the impromptu prison, attempting to intercept Mannequin before he can kick himself free. Shoulder-checking Toph's handiwork, he crashes through it and tackles the cape.

     "I'm going to make you feel terror. Like /they/ did."

Auron (236) has posed:
    Auron merely faces the direction Mannequin seems to be in, tensing, readying for an attack. He expects the thing to just leap across the distance and claw at him, until Bitter Medicine flies across the distance. He readies for backup, though, heading down with the PRT staff. He'll be covering them while they get Armsmaster into the vehicle that will take the gravely injured Tinker to Njorun.

Toph Beifong (20) has posed:
    A series of words that no girl Toph's age should say are yelled out with fury, and the blind girl reaches out with her bloodied and uninjured hand right hand, then yanks it back with the attempt to pull Mannequin back towards Bitter so hopefully he can get to it. And drag it back inside! Her side is aching, and her left arm isn't much use at the moment. But she can still bend!

Defiant (554) has posed:
     Despite the silence, uncanny behavior and dramatic self-mutilation, Mannequin is a smart man. When Bitter comes at him, he thrusts a palm at him - extending that long, telescoping blade again - but it doesn't matter because Bitter collides with him anyway. Mannequin detaches his legs, trying to wrap those chained limbs around Bitter Medicine's throat!

     Of course, then Toph grabs him.

     Mannequin detaches his lower half from the abdomen down, hoping to create a brief moment of confusion. Leaving Bitter Medicine and Toph to deal with his clawed, chained legs, Mannequin scuttles for the window on his hands. He's fast. And, with one final turn back towards the pair, his shallow, empty eye sockets seeming to scrutinise them both, Mannequin drops out of the shattered window.

     It's a long way down.

     For Auron, it is simple enough business. The vehicle is a standard-issue PRT van, armed and armored, and Armsmaster is loaded into the van, on oxygen and IVs. A set of PRT officers and medics clamber aboard, carrying equipment and supplies.

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     Hindered as he is by Mannequin's legs, there's only one option available to Bitter Medicine. His wound has deepened, as the would-be automaton's calculating nature has paid off. No matter. "You'll be dead before you hit the ground, filthmonger." He doesn't need full use of his body to pursue Mannequin, only his throwing arm.

     Bound by chains, it takes some... doing to get his arm free. Crack. He forcibly dislocates it, the limb slithering free. Crack. With another grisly sound, he forces it back into place. And with the most unsettling sound of all--the shriek of hungry Soulsteel--he hurls the chakram out the window. It promptly banks downward, hungering for Mannequin's Essence. Only one question remains, as Bitter Medicine struggles to destroy the cape's legs.

     Will Voidbane fly fast enough to catch the falling assailant, or will he fall out of its range too quickly? The only way to know is upon the chakram's return.

Toph Beifong (20) has posed:
    This thing is starting to seriously piss her off!

    Still, even as the legs remain, Toph knows that there is little she can do once the thing jumps out of the window. But she rushes forward, gritting her teeth together as she kicks her foot into the floor... further down the side of the building, a plate shoots out before it deepens into a box. And if she feels Mannequin hit it, the blind girl, now at the window, will slam her hand into the wall to close the box off and hopefully seal him in.

Auron (236) has posed:
    Once outside the building, Auron's still keeping an eye out (figuratively speaking; he only has one eye) for anything that Mannequin might have left outside. Tinkers are smart people, and if he really wanted Armsmaster dead, Mannequin would probably make doubly sure all his bases were covered. The advantage of anonymity isn't there; this world knows about the Multiverse. So he can't count on them just being too much for assailants to handle.

Defiant (554) has posed:
     Mannequin falls and Bitter Medicine's chakram screams along after him. The plate of metal catches Mannequin, cracking his artificial body, but a moment later, Bitter's chakram continues to seek its target. It catches Mannequin, shears through him and Toph's metal trap, and Mannequin falls.

     When the chakram returns, it is flecked with shards of metal, white material and bits of gore. Surely they got him.

     But Auron doesn't see anything, however. No traps, no other members of the Nine, and no sign of villain himself. Even when lightning flashes across the sky, casting the Protectorate building into stark relief, he sees nothing.

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     Voidbane returns to Bitter Medicine's hand with ease. He ignores the tearing pain in his shoulder.

     If one thing may be said which applies to the whole of the Soulsteel caste, let it be that they are /thorough./ Yes, Bitter Medicine feels satisfaction. He's not above taking pleasure in the pain of dissidents. It's a dark place to dwell, he knows. But he has to be sure.

     The broken window begins letting some of the weather in. Bitter Medicine stands at the edge, his chakram's bladed teeth still extended, still dripping with bits of metal and gore. The light of the room contrasts sharply with the darkness of Brockton Bay at night, and even within that light, the Exalt is himself a dark and foreboding figure. An abstract mind might compare the scene to a microcosm of the universe; the Diagram of the Supreme Ultimate.

     Bitter Medicine peers down and activates his First Perception Augmentation, boosting his eyesight. He searches for a corpse. For closure.

Toph Beifong (20) has posed:
    A frustrated look crosses Toph's features when she feels something tearing through the trap she set up, but she has no idea whether it's the chakram that Bitter threw or if it was Mannequin. But for now it seems that the twisted villain escaped. It might be too hopeful to think that they got him. If he could detach his limbs, who says he can't do other things as well?

    If she weren't injured, then she would jump out the window herself and follow. But her clothes are getting stained with her own blood, and the blind girl is starting to look a little pale as she winces and leans against the wall by the window, pressing her hand against her side. "You see anything...?" she asks Bitter as she takes a deep breath. While she hates going there, she might need some help at medical herself. Besides, then she can also check on Armsmaster.

    That dunderhead better not die...!

Defiant (554) has posed:
     With the wind and rain howling around him, Bitter looks down towards the base of the Protectorate HQ. A lesser man might have intense vertigo. Even with his boosted eyesight, however, Bitter doesn't see Mannequin. Dead? Completely annihilated by Voidbane? Or has he scuttled away? With all that technology in his artificial body, who knows what other tricks he could pull? After all, he had to have gotten into the building undetected, somehow.

     Dead or alive, he is gone, and Armsmaster is safe. For now.

Bitter Medicine (569) has posed:
     When one works to enforce freedoms which often hide dissidents, one learns to trust nothing and simply love his country. "No," he says. "But that doesn't mean we're off the hook." The Exalt taps his ear.

     "PRT, this is Bitter Medicine. 10-0. Threat handled, all units, BOTL for suspect, confirm live/dead status. Consider armed, dangerous."