Miho Chan
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Arcanum, Rough 1-1
🕑 Added 2024-08-27 13:00:10 +0000 UTCHave you ever been put under? That sudden snap from being drowsy to being somewhere else altogether?
Try that but standing up in a brand new body.
There were only two saving graces to this situation, the woman who would be needing an equally new name within the minute mused. The first was that having a tail about thrice as long as she was tall had a way to keep you from finding out what the carpet in a busy bank tasted like. The second was that the human brain was uncharacteristically competent about dealing with situations like this and while she hadn’t exactly eaten an IED and woken up in a medtent, it still worked just fine. All she was feeling was a detached sort of curiosity.
Taloned hands covered in orange and violet swirls over an uniform mustard yellow reached up to the back of her skull, where she felt something tangled with her hair. Apparently she had some sort of carved stick holding a hair bun in place, but further up there were a pair of branching horns. Given the yellow and blue fur running a line through her tail and the big lapis tuft it ended in? She had something of a feeling of what they looked like.
Her hair, when she pulled one of the longer locks framing her face, was apparently that same vibrant yellow and blue. Just starting at honest-to-god steel grey before turning blonde then the richest blue she had seen in her whole life.
She didn’t get more time to check herself out, because that afterthought about this being a busy bank? Her needing to come up with a name in the next minute? Yeah. The shock and bystander effect of her poofing into existence in front of them had started to wear off.
The bank she had landed in was a fairly large one with the decor you’d expect. Carpeted floor, a smattering of chairs, couches and tables trying their best to not make it feel like a hospital's waiting room. There were a pair of double doors to her left, made out of glass because banks seemed physically incapable of not doing so. That and the large windows told her that it was raining outside. Finally, she could see a security guard begin to make his way over to her, currently not at all hostile, though something about his stance told her that could change at any second. Behind him, a respectable crowd of people stood, some of them dressed professionally, others clearly here as part of their weekly chores. All in all, they looked more irritated about the disruption to their day than anything else. There were also about half a dozen children peeking out from behind their parents, fascinated with the rather interesting interruption to their otherwise dull day.
“I swear I didn’t teleport here on purpose.” She tried with a strained smile and raised hands, hoping to god she wasn’t about to get tased. At least she didn’t have any obvious weapons on her other than the inch-long black talons on her fingers. Well, unless you counted the doorstopper hanging from her belt, one that’d probably kill a man if it fell from a balcony.
At her words, the security guard stopped, turning towards the trio of tellers at the counter in obvious questioning that she was going to count as a win. Meanwhile, the crowd behind him seemed to collectively shrug and return to go about their day, those already in line turning around. There was an unspoken ‘hurry up, bean counter, the entertainment’s over’ so heavy it may as well have been a neon sign over the crowd.
“Mommy, why is that dragon-lady so shiny?” Of course, the children weren’t so quick to let something like this go. A little boy in a stereotypical yellow rain poncho was the one to break the silence and whatever conversation the guard was having with the staff. Maybe she’d be lucky and they hadn’t decided to sound the silent alarm, although the way one went to the back while pulling out the phone left no doubt that someone would be showing up.
“Because I take really good care of my scales. My name is Shèn, what’s yours?” The so dubbed ‘dragon-lady’ replied immediately, bending her knees a bit to make herself smaller and trying to soften her smile. She would be the first to admit she was dogshit with kids, treating them more like miniature adults than anything else. Still, she knew how monkey brains were wired, give a name and have a friendly interaction with a child and you were pretty much going home free.
Of course, it was just as the kid was opening his mouth that a muffled shout came from the back, followed by a far more shrill one. The crowd’s jolting and muttering was just barely enough to mostly cover up the guard’s muttered, “Of course that wasn’t everything.” As he made his way towards the source of the noise. The day just kept getting better and better, huh? Fuck, how was she going to explain this to her family?
Well, her brand new knife ears weren’t picking up any worrying noises from the back and the crowd relaxed freakishly quickly again, so she just… wandered over to a couch. Then she had to figure out how to negotiate a seating arrangement with about eighteen feet of pearlescent tail. Shèn ended up just twisting a bit to the side on a long couch and letting the tail drape over her.
…The fur was really soft. It gave her something to focus on while her other hand checked her pockets. Unsurprisingly, she didn’t have a wallet, nevermind any IDs. Just some funny rocks. A flat teardrop of jade with two bites taken out of it and something almost like a drawn bow engraved onto it, an amethyst with the exact same cut and what was either a pictogram for glasses or a bicycle emblazoned on it in gold, then a quartet of circuit-etched gemstones making her bones thrum. Quartz, sapphire, topaz, emerald. Protection, sea, land, sky, they hummed wordlessly. Inklings of powers– spells started to stain her mind, only to be snapped out of it by the return of the security guard.
Or rather, the woman accompanying him. The long pair of triangular ears atop her head and the fluffy tail the size of the girl’s torso said in no uncertain terms this one was in Shèn’s boat. The kitsune looked a strange mix of contrite, sheepish, melancholic and trying to suppress a glare of all things. Which did funny things to Shèn given those electric purple eyes and slit pupils, forcing her to drag her focus elsewhere. The she-fox had light caramel skin, nowhere near as dark as an Indian woman but she was tiny enough to be from around South East Asia, the slight slant of her eyes and all but ink blank hair all but confirming it.
Much more importantly than all the previous, however, was the big red horn like someone had combined a Tengu’s cap with their nose. That together with the very familiar book hanging from her belt and how her green and brown outfit was more belts than sense rather told the dragon what consolation prize they’d gotten.
“Sorry again, Steven. I genuinely have no idea what happened or what’s going on. I don’t think anyone exactly expects to wake up on the floor of the employee area of a bank, after all.” She stated sheepishly as she rubbed the back of her head, her ears flattening in embarrassment. As she continued to walk out, however, the fox-lady noticed the massive dragon tail occupying most of a couch. Then the woman attached to it, looking at Shèn with an expression that stuck between hope and despair, her voice very much matching as she asked, “You too, dragon lady?”
“I showed up standing to the side of the line, but yes.” The twice crowned ‘dragon-lady’ replied with a sigh through her nose, shoulders slumping slightly even as taloned fingers combed through tricolored hair. What a mess, what a mess. “They already called someone to pick us up, I’m pretty sure. Shèn, by the way.”
“...Well they sure do work fast.” The vixen replied as she walked over, her face falling a bit before she forced it back into neutrality, “Miho. I suppose. It’ll work for now, at least, until I figure out if I want to change names with the situation or not.”
The dragon was silent for two heartbeats, before springing to her feet with a flex of her tail. Her hand moved as if to grab Miho’s own or perhaps squeeze her shoulder, only to flop back down with a shake of Shèn’s head, “Come on, I don’t think they’ll mind if we wait at the steps and we can have a bit of privacy that way.”
Only receiving a slight incline of her head in response from the rather despondent fox, the dragon led the way to the door. She was so focused on her sister in shitfuck that she didn’t look outside until she was halfway through opening the door. “I don’t suppose you’re just here to make a deposit?” Shèn all but pleaded, frozen like a deer in headlights at what fate had seen fit to vomit onto her shoes.
“Here to make a withdrawal, actually. Several.” One of the five supervillains in front of her chimed up with a shit-eating grin, noting the aborted motion with some curiosity. She was dressed in a lavender bodysuit with black stripes placed in what she was pretty sure was meant to be a ‘Tt’. The dragon arched an eyebrow at the maybe fifty pounds soaking wet teenager trying her hardest to sound smooth. Credit where it was due, the blonde had rolled with the punches without missing a beat, but the curse of being fifteen years old was harder to beat than that.
Teal eyes flicked between a domino mask, the glock on the spokeswoman’s utility belt, the motorcycle leathers duo built like quarterbacks and a pair of amber lenses set into beetle carapace and spider silk. Tattletale, Bitch, Grue and Skitter. Plus Regent at the far back barely visible between his friends, the massive cloud of bugs and trio of pony sized dogs.
Joy and rapture.
At least Shèn wasn’t the only one suffering, even beyond how Miho had clutched at her book. Skitter clearly hadn’t learned how to shunt her emotions to her swarm yet, her body stiffening and trembling softly as fight or flight hit her like a runaway truck. Her face was probably a picture right now, not that anyone could see behind those amber lenses. Grue, for his own part, tensed like a loaded spring as he subtly lowered into a brawling stance. A quick glance at Tattletale and a small hand gesture from her, though, and he relaxed. Bitch had been pretty much in lockstep with Grue where her response was concerned. Finally, Regent was being more or less as he’d been depicted. Poncy shit was leaning against his cane as if he had all the time in the world, a shit eating grin peeking through the gaps of his mask as he rapidly recognized that neither of the pair were currently hostile. ‘Currently’ doing a hell of a lot of heavy lifting.
“And if we object to that, friends?” Miho asked, a dangerous edge in her voice. Someone was clearly looking for an excuse to drown her pain in violence. Blessedly, it didn’t take a Thinker power to read up on one of the most common attitudes among parahumans beating feet in the backstreets.
Just like that, everyone was tensed up again, Tattletale’s eyes flickering between the two unknown unknowns before locking with Shèn’s. A tiny little twitch towards Skitter was all it took to make the dragon spit out a resigned sigh. She just wasn’t willing to take chances with little miss brutality, “Alright, come on in. I’m not strong enough to kick all of you into the street and I know better than to start shit next to a bunch of bystanders. Don’t hurt anyone and we won’t find out how many of you I can send into the intensive care ward before I get turned into hamburger meat.”
Thankfully, Miho seemed to have gotten the message, “...What Shèn said, then.” Pausing, she frowned, glancing over the teenagers again with more than a little judgment in her eyes, “Don’t try to find out. You won’t like the results.”
It could be a trick of the light, but Shèn was ninety percent sure that she and Tattletale shared a look of commiseration as they got their partners to calm down. It was gone in an eyeblink, covered up with a winsome smile and a peppy, “At last, a hero with good sense!”
The rest of the Undersiders were stuck playing catchup with this stop and go game. Nevermind how much it broke their brains to just have a pair of ‘obvious heroes’ just letting them in. It seemed, of the Undersiders, Skitter was by far taking it the hardest. Everything about her posture radiated frustration and malcontent despite being, y’know, an undercover hero. None of the other Undersiders had particularly obvious reactions, though Regent was making a show of stroking his chin contemplatively as he leaned against one of the pillars lining the facade, keeping watch while his teammates trotted in.
As the Undersiders entered the bank, it became imminently obvious that, well, Brocktonites were not okay. Almost without prompting, most of the bystanders walked over to the wall, muttering something about not causing trouble with worryingly practiced ease. The children looked more excited than anything, as if this was their latest episode of Spongbob come live. The security guard from earlier, for his own part, swore something under his breath as he approached the undersiders with a resigned gait, hands in the air to avoid unfortunate misunderstandings.
“Capes,” The guard began, nodding towards the Undersiders, “I assume you’re only here for the money, correct?”
…Oh, right, bank money was insured. Honestly, Shèn had been so focused on not turning people into collateral that she hadn’t even stopped to think about that. Given Miho’s laconic blink and nearly-audible spool up noises, the she-fox was probably in a similar boat as her.
“That would be correct, Steven!” Tattletale chirped with… okay, the face she made resembled a kitsune mask somewhat with the way her eyes crinkled but it was just a regular smug smirk, “I’m sure you know the drill! Disarm, go over with the rest of the temporary hostages, and there’ll be no problems~”
Not even bothering to protest, Steven simply nodded, professionally discarding his taser and placing it on the floor, moving over to the wall without protest with the confirmation that the Undersiders weren’t here for a spot of redecoration and repainting.
With that particular song and dance concluded, Tattletale turned to the rest of the people within the bank, making a grand, sweeping bow that was so blatantly performatory that it felt genuine, “Hello, Brockton Bay Central! While I’m sure all of you know the drill, I’m going to repeat it so no one can claim I didn’t do my due diligence! As of right now, you are all hostages to prevent any of our local hero organizations from busting in and causing immense amounts of barely insured property damage! If you simply stay calm, stay sane, and generally cause no problems, we’ll be out of your hair in about thirty minutes! To ensure your cooperation, we’ll have Bug over here,” She pointed grandly towards Skitter at that, all showman pomp, “monitoring you through her moths! Rest assured that she can tell if you decide to do something stupid, and you wouldn’t want to be the reason that little Timmy can’t go home tonight, now would you?”
At the crowd’s rather laconic reaction and affirmation, the bodysuit clad girl continued, turning towards the staff standing behind the till, “Now, if you lovely ladies and gentlemen could go open the vault and start retrieving all the valuables, we can get out of your hair as fast as possible!”
“I knew Brockton Bay was something else, but seeing is believing.” Shèn muttered under her breath as she simply… walked over to the hostages, standing between them and the Undersiders. Hands crossed behind her back to show she wasn’t about to do anything stupid and engraved quartz up her sleeve in case someone else did.
“Ah, right. That’s what it was called,” Miho muttered back in turn, a quick look confirming that her ears were slanted towards Shen, “Though I suppose it’s not surprising, considering that apparently they have the highest cape per capita in the world or something.”
They were barely done with that tiny exchange when some sort of crowd hive mind seemed to kick in, a full three quarters of the hostages whipping out their phones. They didn’t even try to pretend to not stream or make online posts, yet only Skitter looked put off. Very tellingly, Grue put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head before she could do anything. A hushed exchange between them followed, but even Shèn’s knife ears weren’t enough to pick up on. Miho, though, was another story. Her lips were moving, clearly piecing together what those floppy fox ears of hers were telling her.
‘Reputation is everything in Brockton Bay, Bug. The recordings make sure that we don’t end up as statistics in the evening paper.’
‘What, why? We’re just putting a target on our backs for the gangs to take advantage of!’
‘Because the more famous you are, the harder it is for the gangs to off you or hold your identity hostage. That game of cops and robbers Tats talks about? It’s only for celebrities. People would notice if, say, Glory Girl disappeared one day, because she and New Wave are well known. But, if, oh, I don’t know, Diesel the generic Brute suddenly stopped patrolling one day, no one would notice because Diesel the generic Brute is forgettable. He’s not different, he’s not special, he doesn’t put on a show and so nobody cares.’
‘That– that’s not right! Why is it always a popularity contest with these things?!’
‘I know it sucks, but it doesn’t matter if you don’t like the rules of the game Bug, especially not when the ‘normal world’ is just like that too. While you’re running with us, you’re damn well going to follow those rules to the letter. Now, leave the hostages alone. If it bothers you that much, feel free to sandbag at your leisure so the PRot underestimates you later. It’s what we do, most of the time.’
Shèn left them to it, she’d ask Miho later if anything important was said. She had something of an idea what it was about anyways, so she was free to focus on Tattletale leading the trio of bank tellers to the back. Bitch went with her after a sharp, “Angelica, Brutus, stay.”
Which left two steadily growing murder dogs keeping the crowd company while the third followed her. Very pointedly staying the size of a pony, presumably to fit in the corridors. It also left Shèn without anything to do other than twiddle her taloned thumbs.
…Actually, the Thinker had just left. The phones may pick up on this, but honestly? Whatever, they wouldn't be able to piece it together. She bumped shoulders with Miho, lowering her voice to dead library levels, “Quartz, sapphire, topaz, emerald.”
Miho went stiff for a moment, before relaxing, “Quartz, ruby, diamond, amethyst.” She echoed back just as softly, “Summoner. Scholar.”
Protection, wildfire, blizzard, thunderstorm. It was the grimoire whispering wordlessly to Shèn this time, thrumming her bones with meaning. Still, the two Jobs the fox mentioned… “Triangle and glasses?”
Looking almost offended, Miho nodded, “Technically a hat and a book. It seems– Well, it seems like we are birds of a feather, at least.”
Yeah, they couldn’t really discuss more without getting into things they really didn’t want on the internet. Still, they had to while away the time somehow, soooo… “I got the better tail, though.” The dragon said with a grin, waving her fluffy tail tip in challenge.
“Them’s fighting words, you overgrown lizard.” Miho huffed back playfully, a bit of the melancholy disappearing from around her, “Clearly the fluffy perfection that is my vulpine tail is far superior to that scaled nonsense.” She continued, faux haughtiness dripping from her voice.
Shèn could almost smell the overpriced perfume and lead powder. She, of course, did the mature thing and puffed up her nearly nonexistent chest while looking down at the much shorter woman, “I got glossy scales that put leather to shame, silky fur to pet and can wrap someone six times over with it. If you can find your superiority, by all means, share with the class.”
“Consider, I have fluffy tail, you do not.” Miho retorted smugly, resting her case.
“Floozy.” The dragon replied with all the eloquence under heaven.
“Lizzer.” The fox countered with all the haughtiness of the Imperial Courts of the East.
…
“Pfft.” “Hrk”
They both descended into giggles, momentarily forgetting that they were currently hostages. Of course, Earth Bet was all too happy to hand them a reminder.
“Oi, Bossman, the Wards are here.” Regent yelled from outside, stepping into the bank with all the elegance expected from a court jester, “They’re setting up a cordon, and the PRT is starting to arrive in force with non capes.”
For one precious second, Shèn and Grue were in exactly the same wavelength, united by a singular thought. ‘Tell me it isn’t Shadow Stalker.’ The latter even said it out loud to his teammate with the groan of the damned.
“I’m afraid that the edgelady supreme herself has in fact, graced us with her glorious presence, oh Big Kahuna.” Regent waxed ‘poetically’, false simpering pouring forth like a fountain. Then he dropped the act like a man changing hats, “Oh, and she looks like she’s chomping at the bit to, ya know, put another few arrows in your gut.”
“Goddammit.” Grue groaned, twisting towards the back as he hollered out, “Oi, Tats. I need you out here stat!”
“Give me a second, Grue!” Came the near instant response, more than a little shrill, “Bitch and I are almost done here. Stall them if you have to!”
With another sound of vague frustration, Grue proved why he was the nominal leader immediately, “Right. Regent. You’re with me. We’re going to step outside, and explain to our wonderful local superheroes why exactly trying to attack us is a bad idea. Bug, I’m going to need you to take the more violent parts of your swarm out and… dissuade our local sports team from doing something stupid.”
“We’ll intervene if it starts looking like fatalities are possible for either side or the hostages are imperiled.” Miho said softly, her voice low so that only Shen could hear, for all her eyes were flinty, “Which is probably going to be necessary since both sides have a Little Miss Brutality.”
“I am going to summon some minions to guard the civvies and give them forcefields, I’m not taking any chances with loose cannons on the field.” Shèn stated firmly, projecting her voice, a quartet of jewels held between the fingers of her raised hand.
“...Go ahead.” Grue nodded, after a few moment’s consideration, likely weighing the cost benefit as he waved aside Regent’s look, “In the event that shit goes down, it’s better to not have extra heat from injured or dead hostages.” He explained, likely for Regent and Bug’s benefit, seeing as the latter issued a poor attempt at a subtle nod right after he finished speaking.
Just like that, light bloomed from the dragon’s hand, shooting off into a quartet of comets circling the hostages. Turquoise, deep blue, burnt yellow, bright green. They coalesced into… Shèn’s best attempt at being kid friendly.
Cartoonish proportions, bright colors matching the lights, big and expressive mouths and eyes. The essentials, rather unfortunately countermanded by teeth like spearheads and an uncomfortably long tongue all packed into what was basically a winged ball about ninety percent eye and mouth. The crystals had demanded a projection schema when she pumped aether into them, she needed something flight capable and relatively compact while able to put the hurt in someone. So here she was, doing her best to sanitize the venerable Ahriman within two seconds.
At least the crystals had also asked for behavioral strictures, so they were big balls of cheer doing little aerial tricks for the kids. Blessedly, these were Brocktonites, so they took to the entertainment and implied safety net like fishes to water. Man, how desensitized were these people?
“Alright, Aegis, with me.” Shèn called, the turquoise-skinned Ahriman chirping as it flew to her side. One hand on the spine of a suddenly fluttering book and the other outstretched towards the crowd, green-white light traced itself into existence as though by an invisible brush. Two sets of overlapping magick circles, hellishly dense arcane schema shifting and adjusting with each lazy rotation.
“Of course there are literal fucking wizards now.” Someone grumbled in the universal tone of immense personal suffering and Ramses-grade dried out patience. In other words, he sounded like a retail worker. He was the outlier, though. On the other end of the spectrum, the crotch goblin wranglers were shooting her thankful looks for keeping the kids happy and distracted.
“Didn’t you know? Friendship is magic.” Shèn said in lieu of telling the man to shush and let the wizard cast ‘don’t bleed out from stray shrapnel’. Also, fuck but was loading forty-six individual instances of Radiant Aegis into this schema making her sweat. She could only hope the staff at the back would hold out until she could send the Quartz-Ahriman over to slap some shields on them too. The little guy was doing god’s work here, she wouldn’t be able to do even half of this without the funny flying eyeball.
“Arcanist, not Wizard.” Miho grumped to herself, quietly enough that only Shèn could hear.
“Shush, you’re on glare mage duties once I bust my load on these barriers.” The dragon hissed back.
“I’m not a White Mage, dumbass. No wonder your Carbuncles aren’t Carbuncles, you filthy uncultured heathen. Che, no appreciation for the classics.” Miho grumbled to herself with no small amount of dry snark. Miho’s own gemstones shone in her hand as she summoned her Carbuncles forth in a tight burst of aether. Turquoise, ruby, snow white, and amethyst carbuncles joined the four flying meatballs at the feet of the hostages. All of them sat on their haunches, some watching over the crowd and others outwards. Skitter got the honor of getting two pairs of beady ferret-fox eyes boring into her as the three-tailed simulacra simply stood there, placidly.
The Master twitched, then proved she was a bona-fide teenager by looking away in a huff, making a show of how she was too busy to deal with this.
“While I didn’t exactly say you could as well, Foxy, I suppose as long as you aren’t starting something…” Grue muttered, shaking his head, “Alright, for real this time, Regent, let’s step outside and greet the coppers, yeah?”
The pair stepped out just in time for the spell to reach its crescendo. White-green lines suddenly compressed into a tiny sphere and shot for the ceiling, where it shattered into fifty-two pieces. They trailed like comets, landing on each and every head sans Skitter’s and the dogs’, arcane schema blooming from the point of contact and their feet. Row upon row of iridescent hexagons twirled into existence, snapping together like magnets until every last person and being was completely wreathed.
For their part, it was this, of all things, that broke the seemingly unflappable crowd of Brocktonites. Most, if not all of them, staring at their barrier with outright awe even as it faded from visibility. Perhaps it was understandable, given that such a display of ‘parahuman’ ability was in the realm of Myrddin rather than a no-name random. Or perhaps it was the kindness the pair of ‘parahumans’ had displayed by their constant care for the proverbial little guy that finally cracked that stiff upper lip. In the end, it didn’t really matter. The crowd shook it off within moments and huddled into a corner, knowing full well where the wind was blowing.
Shèn all but collapsed on the coils of her tail the moment the barriers were in, overpowering whatever allowed it to almost float as she turned it into an impromptu chair, gasping for air. As it turned out, making your first proper spell a massive multitarget? Not a great idea. It felt like someone had taken a melon baller to her chest cavity.
Not that she was regretting it, since she had barely caught her breath by the time everything thoroughly went to hell in a handbasket.
