Web of the Weaver: Deals and Questions

Note this interlude is taking place while Orb Wever is speaking with Squealer.

Mush sat down on the couch, bags of garbage around him. It was good to be armed. He lit up and turned the TV on, the flickering screen showing the most recent episode of “What  Happened To Tommy!” a sitcom about a stranger cape who was always getting marked absent even when he was in school.

Mush enjoyed it, especially when Skidmark wasn’t here, but he couldn’t say much, because like Skidmark said, who the fuck would take care of Mush if it wasn’t for—

The TV started to buzz.

“God dammit,” Mush said, getting up and walking over to the TV. If it was broken, Skidmark would be screaming until they boosted another one. Squealer couldn’t make—

“Hello, Mush.”

The voice came from all around him, seeming to reverberate in the walls.

“What the fuck—“ Mush reached out to grab his armor, but then jerked his hand back. There was a crawling mass on the bags, bugs, only they couldn’t be, because bugs didn’t move like that. Some of them were glowing. Then the lights went out, and when they came back, the bugs were gone. Had they ever been there? Were they really bugs?

“I’d like to talk to you.”

“What the fuck about?”

“Job opportunities. I didn’t find out much about you from my other sources, but I… have ears… everywhere.” There was a scary as fuck chuckle. “Garbageboy…”

“I’m fucking Mush!”

“But that’s not what the others call you. Even Skidmark when he gets angry. Squealer…”

“She’s nicer,” Mush said. She was. When she wasn’t high or pissed off that he’d tracked garbage over her workshop.

“She is. She’s leaving the Merchants. Right now. She called the PRT.”

“Why?”

“Everyone has a price, Mush. I found hers. Now, I’m looking at your price.”

Mush looked around the room, empty now. But he knew better. “What do you think I want?”

“Why did you come here?”

“Who the fuck would help me! At least Skids gave me a place to stay.”

“Why not the PRT?”

“Them? They don’t get people like me. They just put us in prison.”

“And while I don’t have all your information, petty theft, vandalism, numbers games… until you trigger and then you came here.” There was a pause. “Let me guess, someone bigger than you got angry…”

Mush bit his lip. Whoever this guy was, he didn’t know. He didn’t know, how the Hells Angels had been laughing as they put Mush into the dump, tied him up, and then drove the dump truck to bury him in the trash, let him smoth… He took a deep breath and looked around. “Yeah… yeah, they did.”

“And here you are, how long before Skidmark makes someone bigger than him angry?  You already almost got into a fight with Hookwolf.”

Mush didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to remember that. Fuck, if not for that…

“You’re him.”

“Yes.”

“What do you want?”

“Your employment. Not as a villain. First, I will assist you to clean up and get off the drugs. Fortunately, you’ve not indulged in the heavier drugs.”

Yeah, Skid always called me a pussy—wait, how the fuck did he know? “Are you like, a Thinker?”

“I’m many things. But right now, I’m waiting.”

“What would I do?”

“First? I might find you work as a guard.”

“The Garbageman…”

“We’ll have to work on a name and your powers. Tell me, can you manipulate tools within your mass?”

“Huh?”

“Guns, other systems. Can you control them, if you take them into you? That could be very effective.”

“I uh….”

“And have you experimented with materials? Ceramic plates, sand, other such things? Garbage might be disgusting, but I doubt it’s bullet proof.”

“I never, um, thought about it.”

The voice sighed. “Then, if you accept, we will have to… optimize your power. After all, I need you at your best. I’m not doing this out of charity.”

“What if I quit?”

“If you accept my deal, I demand at least a month of work—you’ll be paid, but since I’m saving you from arrest…”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do it. After that?”

“You’ll be free to go and enter any legal line of work.”There was a rattling sound on the ground and Mush looked down to where a bundle of money had somehow appeared.

The fuck?

“Three hundred dollars. I have an address of a hotel for you. That’s a week’s worth of stay and there is a cheap diner there, but one that is healthy. Remember, for now, no drugs. I need you healthy. They have a shower, I expect you’ll use it. And Tomorrow, I’ll send a messenger to guide you to where I’m waiting. We’ll have some practice work.”

Mush stared down at the money. Nobody just handed you that kind of money if they thought you were going to run. Or if they thought you couldrun. He licked his lips. “What if Skidmark gets pissed?”

“You will soon be the last thing on Skidmark’s mind. I have him penciled in for tomorrow night.” There was an unnerving chuckle. “I might have neglected to tell him.”

Mush looked around and felt a clenching sensation. Skidmark had thought that Orb Weaver was just some nobody trying to make a rep. He was wrong. Nobody’s didn’t talk like that.

People like that didn’t need to tell you you only got one chance. Anyone with a brain knew it.

“So, um, it has a shower?”

“Yes. Make use of it. We’ll give you money for clothes tomorrow.”

“Right. Sure.”  Mush waited, but nothing else was said. He got up and walked out the door. Skidmark would be pissed.

But there was another thing about people like that. When they got annoyed, the source of their annoyance went away, and this was the same person who hadn’t cared about telling Hookwolf, Crusader, and Cricket to back off.

Skidmark wasn’t going to be a problem, for anyone, much longer, Mush thought.

*****

Emily Piggot stared at the image.

“She came in willingly?”

“Yes, Director,” Armsmaster said. “She was quite distraught, and asked to be called by her civilian identity.”

The image was from Armsmaster’s helmet cam, showing the drug addict curled up on the floor—in the middle of a web.

“What was the web created with.”

“Not with, an absence of the oil and dirt on the floor. How it was removed, I’m not certain. Analysis shows no signs of chemical removal.”

Only in this town would I worry about a parahuman who could clean floors. She shook her head. “And Ms. Bailey? Signs of drugs or Mastering?”

“None. Our interrogation indicated that Orb Weaver used her own psychological issues against her. How she learned them, It’s hard to say, but I believe he may be a Thinker.”

Great. We believe she might be a thinker… Orb Weaver hadn’t been an issue, just one of a hundred capes who appeared, tried to save the world, and failed. But then one of their sources had told them about how he’d somehow convinced the E88 to back off.

He or she. We haven’t even seen Orb Weaver yet .She glanced out the window at the late night skyline of the Bay. The Boardwalk was still busy, some of the attractions being 24 hours, while other parts of the city were dark.

“She currently shows a willingness to detox, and seek counseling.” Armsmaster glanced at the readout. “But as to her child…”

“Oh, that didn’t take more than ten minutes.” Cutting through paperwork was easy if you had the PRT’s resources. “The child was taken, and Ms. Bailey’s parental rights were terminated immediately, voluntarily in fact.” She paused. “There are several inconsistencies with the report when we ran it through analysis.”

“Such as?”

“The name given for her Guardian ad Litem doesn’t correspond to any attorney admitted to the bar in the state.”

“Ah.”

Emily shook her head. “We’ll probably find out more, but I’m curious how Orb Weaver learned this information. The call shows that she knew enough of her backstory to talk about it, and knew that something unethical had occurred, which is why she dropped it into our laps.”

“Along with a Tinker,” Armsmaster said. “Squealer, even crippled by her addictions and lack of education, was able to create rather durable vehicles… she may not be useful as a frontline Protectorate member, but presuming she is willing to work with the rehabilitation program, she might be able to assist in equipping the High Threat Rescue Teams.”

Emily frowned. The HTRTs went into places sane people avoided to rescue civilians, and that normally meant things like an Endbringer attack. A tinker… “I’ll speak with the Directors. We might suggest that she be transferred to New York. Legend enjoys taking in lost causes, and they have the resources to monitor her.” And if she goes back to type, she won’t be my problem, at least.

“Director, what about Skidmark?”

“Well, we’ll see if Orb Weaver’s record holds.”  She called up a still of some new emblems in the Merchant part of town, a Merchant symbol defaced by an Orb Weaver. Emily frowned at the image. There were orb weaver images springing up around Merchant regions, and nobody had seen anyone paint them. In fact…

“Armsmaster. Could this be a new gang or more than one parahuman?”

The armored figure shook his head. “We do not have enough information to make that determination. They might also have a stranger power, which allows them to move around freely. However… They have not been physically violent in their dealings.”

No, just psychologically traumatizing, along with knowing a bit more than they should.

“Very well. If we make any contact with this individual, unless they are engaged in illegal activities, try for the soft-sell. Cooperation, working as a rogue. I don’t want anything more certain until we know who and what we’re dealing with.”