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Tear it Down

"Clowns make you laugh at them but Jesters laugh at others" - Quote by Organ_Martin In a world of Heroes and Villains, the Great Game enters a period of relative stability after the disappearance of The Strongest Villain. Now, in a city known as Brockton Bay, a new Game begins. The question is, who will win? Hero? Villain? Or, perhaps, another outcome altogether? And, perhaps more importantly. Will the world survive the End? /// I don't know how to write a synopsis, mainly because I don't know what the story's gonna be like right now lol, so I don't know what to synopsise in the first place. This story is technically a sequel, but you do not have to read my other story, Jester, before this one. I intend for the two to be able to be enjoyed separately, so that once this is finished in the future, people will be able to enjoy it either sequel-prequel, or prequel-sequel. Oh, and expect some gore, probably. It's a Worm fic with a Tokyo Ghoul based protagonist, so there's gonna be some stuff, I guess... I have a discord (Invite code: Pj3Dttwses) and a patreon (patreon.com/user?u=41732867), if you are interested, it will have advance chapters, with some other stuff I write that hasn't gone far enough to post yet. Donations would obviously be appreciated, but no pressure, anything on my patreon will end up online for free eventually, I dislike paywalls. Also posted on Scribblehub and Fanfiction

Bored_MC · Anime et bandes dessinées
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48 Chs

13 Actual Plot!?

PHQ, Emergency Meeting Room

September 17th, 10:15

///

Walking into the room, Emma finds that she's one of the last to arrive. Almost everyone else is already here. All the Protectorate Heroes and all the Wards except for Rory, Dean and Dennis.

It gives her an uneasy feeling. She's been in plenty of meetings during her tenure here in Brockton Bay, but none of those meetings has ever had an attendance rate of literally everyone. Meaning that it must be something serious.

It doesn't help that all the adults have this serious look on their faces. Especially Assault, whom she's never seen take anything seriously since she met the guy.

The room fell into a short lull with her entrance, but people soon went back to quietly talking amongst themselves as she made her way over to a free seat. 

She ends up sitting between Carlos and Mary, who is predictably playing Tetris, with Suzuya watching over her shoulder.

Giving the room one more glance, Emma elbows Carlos besides her, getting the rust-red suited boy's attention. "You got any idea what this is about?" 

He gives her an apologetic smile and shrugs, "sorry, but I think we're all in the same boat here. I just got a call this morning to report to an emergency meeting. Honestly, I thought I was going to get written up for something ahah."

She doesn't laugh, but she does agree. She also thought she was going to be in trouble. But unless Director Piggy wants to yell at all of them, then that's probably not the case. Then again, she wouldn't be surprised if the pig-woman decided to do just that.

Before she can ask anything else, the door opens again, and in walks Piggy, an even more furious than normal scowl on her face, with her Deputy, Renick at her side, and Dennis demurely trailing in behind her. The normally lackadaisical and goofy boy looking like a kicked puppy.

That alone makes her feel tense, for much the same reason as Assault not making any stupid and unfunny jokes does. Those two never act seriously.

Going by the purple tone Piggy's face is starting to take, Emma was going to ask Dennis what he did to piss her off so much, assuming that was what happened. It wouldn't be the first time they've butted heads, even if it's never lead to anything so extreme.

But before she can, Piggy speaks up, immediately getting the full attention of the room with how severe her tone is. "Good, everyone is here. We can get started then."

Before she goes any further, Carlos hesitantly raises a hand like he's in school, and speaks up with a slight gulp when the Director's scathing glare lands on him. To his credit, he doesn't stutter. "Are we not waiting for Rory and Dean? They aren't here yet."

Out of the corner of her eyes, Emma sees Dennis wilt even more into his seat, staring down at his hands in silence. Piggot's glare only grows more fierce at his question. "Triumph and Gallant are currently in a medically induced coma, fighting for their lives."

She drops the bombshell with all the grace of a bull in a China shop, bringing an almost supernatural silence to the room. Even Mary looks up from her game, a faint 'Game Over' sound effect being the only thing breaking the silence as they all look at her in shock.

All except for Dennis, Miss Militia and Assault and Battery, the four of them clearly having known ahead of time.

"What!?" Carlos exclaims, jumping to his feet.

Only for Piggot's glare to become even more withering, and he wisely decides to sit back down and wait for a full explanation, instead of demanding what she is likely about to tell them anyway.

"Approximately twelve hours ago, at two o'hundred hours, Triumph and Gallant were patrolling the edge of the Boardwalk when they came across a group of men robbing a store."

Behind her, the the projector fills the wall with a still image showing the store and the robbers in question. It's clear to them all that the picture is from their bodycams, Triumphs, if the faint colour of Gallant's costume at the edge of the photo means anything.

The robbers seem to just be typical drugged up thugs. Ratty clothing that speaks of homelessness, probably high on seven different types of drug and waving around crowbars, bats, and a gun in the case of one of them.

"After calling it in, the decision was made, in line with proper procedure, for them to intervene and subdue the perpetrators." Emma notices Dennis wince again, and she suddenly gets the feeling that he was the one on console duty, and that he's the one who told them to intervene.

Piggot adding that bit about correct procedure is probably her way of trying to comfort him that he did nothing wrong. She never thought she'd see the day that Piggot actually tries to be nice to one of them.

"Things were going about as to be expected when a bunch of unwashed thugs try to fight superpowered teenagers," she doesn't know is Piggot was trying to lighten the mood with a joke, but if she was, she failed, "that is, until this happened."

The image behind her changes again, showing that half of the thugs have been disabled, leaving four still standing. Before any brows can be raised, the image starts playing, turning into a silent video.

They all watch as the four thugs seem to start freaking out, as druggies are wont to do, and how Gallant is waving his hands around, seemingly trying to deescalate the situation.

But that only lasts until one of the thugs pulls out another needle, looking like they are shouting something particularly vitriolic as they do so. The next moment, the man begins to change.

They all watch, enraptured as the man's skin seems to start bubbling, his face locked in a rictus of drug induced insanity. Then, from his upper back, a burst of blood explodes out, like he's just been shot. Except the blood doesn't just fly backwards, instead it moves.

His blood shoots forward, wrapping over his shoulders and moving down his arms, covering them like a sleeve and transforming into a sharp edge until his arms more resemble a pair of long blades.

Gasps are heard around the room, an undercurrent of fear spreading, one that Emma feels on a deeply personal level as she realises why she recognises those bladed arms.

It looks just like Her.

As if to prove her worst nightmares true, the man finally looks up from where he had collapsed to his knees, intentionally or not staring right at the camera. With crimson eyes.

Not again, she thinks, staring at those eyes.

The video freezes there, just a still image of the glaring red eyes that cause Emma's heartrate to skyrocket, her breathing coming out in short bursts as she tries and fails to control her emotions.

She's gone.

"Hey," Suzuya whispers to Mary, her quite voice clear to everyone in the room thanks to it's silence, "doesn't that kind of look like-"

"Don't say it!"

Emma startles, not having expected the sudden outburst, but it's only when she looks around the once more silent room that she realises that she is the one standing, that it was her own voice she heard.

Embarrassed and feeling shamed, she quickly sits back down, refusing to look anyone in the eye as she stares at her clenched fists.

She has to be gone.

Before the awkward silence can stretch too long, Director Piggot clears her throat, and gracefully pretends to ignore Emma's outburst, something she is thankful for. "As many of you have no doubt realised, the appearance this man took on after injecting this drug resembles that of a well known Villain and Class-S threat, whom I'm sure I don't need to name."

And she doesn't. Everyone, even the ever uninformed Suzuya, can recognise the eyes of The Strongest Villain.

"Renick," Piggot says, and without a word, her Deputy places a case on the table, unlocks it with a few clicks, and spins it around, showing everyone at the table what is inside.

A clear, disposable syringe, the type you're supposed to hold with your whole hand and inject with your thumb, without any protrusions for grip. The only thing that makes it stand out is the dried blood on the inside, and the two symbols on opposite sides of it's body.

The symbol itself is very telling, being a laughing mouth with a red clown nose on top of it.

"This is one of the four syringes used. Unfortunately, whatever drug it is that caused the effect, temporarily labelled TGT, seems to self destruct, so we cannot learn anything more about it beyond what we have seen."

Piggot takes a steadying breath, clearly beyond pissed at this situation. "Four syringes were used against Gallant and Triumph, from which, two of them grew the blade-like growths you saw, while the other two both gained a thick, tail-like appendage."

The picture behind her changes, showing a split screen with one side displaying the guy with blade-like arms, the other showing a guy with the tail as described, their fleshy blood colouration bringing grimaces around the table.

"Beyond the obvious, this new drug seems to grant a temporary Brute rating, tentatively placed at Brute 3. We are currently still investigating who exactly is distributing these, but in the meantime, I want all of you to be extra cautious during your patrols, and if you come across anyone with these syringes, you are to call for backup immediately, and if possible, get the syringe out of their hands before they can inject it."

Frowning slightly, Emma chooses to ignore any embarrassment about her previous outburst, and speaks up once Piggot finishes. "Excuse me, but do we really know nothing about this drug? Haven't those four who used it been questioned yet?"

This time it's Renick who speaks up, his tone far calmer than his superior's. "We have questioned the man we have in custody, but he has not been particularly helpful. All he knows is that he was sold the drug, TGT, by an unaffiliated dealer. All he knew was that it would temporarily give him the ability to fight capes. Other than that, all we can really conclude is that it is clearly some kind of Tinker-tech, and that it is sponsored by at least one member of the group known as Clowns. The information we have at hand is limited, unfortunately."

"Wait, 'at least one'?" Mary interrupts, sounding confused, "I thought The Clowns were some Villain group, like those serial killers that used to be famous, what were they called? Slaughter-something?"

"Slaughterhouse Nine," Renick corrects, "but no, despite what people may think about The Clowns, they are not really an organised group, not like the Nine, as you mentioned, or The Elite. Instead, it would be more accurate to say that each Clown is just their own individual with their own individual interests and investments. They've just formed a network where they are all in contact with each other. It's more like an alliance, or a club, than an actual organisation. Especially since the disappearance of their founder."

"Huh," is Mary's eloquent response, followed by simply shrugging her shoulders and leaning back into her chair.

However, before Renick can continue, he is interrupted again, this time by the high pitched voice of the youngest person in the room, and Emma questions if she should even be present, considering she's not even hit puberty yet, but it's not her decision to make.

"Um," Vista flinches slightly when the attention of the room falls on her, but quickly gathers herself, "you said you questioned 'the man' in custody. Um, shouldn't there be four of them?"

Renick's face remains stoic with his reply, "unfortunately, three of the men did not make it. The drug seems to have been to much for their malnourished bodies to handle, and they sadly died before they could be brought in."

However, the light grimace of Assault and the way Battery looks down in shame makes Emma think that there might be more to that story than Renick is letting on.

"But enough about that," Director Piggot jumps in, "the purpose of this meeting was simply to inform you all of this new threat on the street, and to warn you to be cautious. This, TGT, is dangerous, and you can easily find yourselves outnumbered by temporary parahumans in a moment's notice, so be. Careful. That is all, Wards, you are dismissed."

Emma has to do her best not to scowl at the dismissal, knowing that they are going to actually talk about the plan going forward to combat this new threat now, but that they aren't invited, because they are 'too young'.

It's bullshit, but she's already on thin ice, so it's not like she can really complain.

Instead, she can only do as ordered, and, alongside all the other Wards, trudge her way out of the room.

They walk together as a group in silence for a moment, before Carlos eventually speaks up. "I- I'm going to go visit Rory and Dean. Any of you want to come?"

"Yes," Vista immediately agrees, while Dennis merely nods his head, clearly blaming himself for their condition.

Emma however, doesn't really want to go, but as she's thinking about a socially acceptable way to decline, her thoughts are interrupted by Suzuya. "Nah, they have grilled cheese in the cafeteria today, so I'm gonna go get lunch."

"I'm with him," Mary agrees, ignoring the stares the three more moral Wards are giving them, and Emma decides to tag along with those two.

"Same, I missed breakfast."

As the group splits in half, Emma only feels slightly bad about picking the psychos over visiting the injured. But she just doesn't see the point in standing around the bed of someone in a coma. It's not like they can do anything to help.

Well, maybe Clockblocker can, if one of them suddenly goes into cardiac arrest or something.

Whatever, she wasn't lying when she said she skipped breakfast. She's hungry.

With that in mind, Emma jogs forward a few paces to be closer to the other two, even if she doesn't say anything, and just walks in silence.

"Wanna make a bet?" Suzuya suddenly asks, looking between Mary and Emma, and for a moment, she's worried that he's going to want to bet on whether or not their teammates pull through, but his childishness quickly proves her wrong.

"Sure," Mary agrees.

"Whoever eats the least amount of grilled cheese has to take a bath in melted cheese!"

"That's a retarded bet, I'm down."

Emma suddenly finds herself the subject of two intensely inquisitive stares, and without really thinking about it, she quickly agrees. 

Only after the fact, does she get the feeling that she's just made a huge mistake.

///

North Downtown, Hope & Anchor Pub

September 20th, 21:30

///

The Hope and Anchor is a pretty dingy place, but it's still popular, evidenced by how almost every table is occupied.

Part of the reason for it's popularity is obviously the cheap booze, but a larger part is thanks to The Red Hearts. Namely, the fact that half the patrons are members of said gang.

Including a mostly inconspicuous, yet still an odd, standout pair, sitting at the bar.

They make quite the dichotomy, with the man being dressed in a ratty brown suit full of loose seams, drinking hard liquor straight from the bottle with a tired expression and a rather noticeable tattoo of a red 'X' covering his entire face. While the woman is of a much sterner disposition, wearing an immaculate black suit, with her matching black hair tied up in a bun and her face frozen in a cold glare.

Naturally, despite what any sane person would think, the homeless looking man is Wash, and the woman is Elsie, his subordinate.

Yet, with how the two are acting, one could be forgiven for thinking that the relationship was the other way around.

"Are you even paying attention right now? This is important, you're not allowed to slack off here," Elsie says, her stern voice making Wash cringe and set his bottle back on the bar.

"C'mon Elsie," he half-drunkenly slurs out, "i's jus' some fresh drug, not like we ain' got plen'y any'ay, drugs 'r our thin'."

"No, it is-" she pauses, realising the futility of trying to converse with him right now, and mentally berating herself for only making it to the bar after he had already started drinking.

So, with a sigh, she simply reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out a thin black box that she lays on the table, much to the bartender's visible nerve.

With a soft click, the box opens, revealing a black, sponge-like interior, with seven intents in it, six of which house a disposable needle.

Gently taking one of the needles out, Elsie closes the box and returns it to her jacket, before unceremoniously stabbing it in Wash's neck and injecting the contents.

Wash barely even seems to notices, merely turning to face her with a confused-looking, scrunched up face. But when he opens his mouth, instead of speaking, he simply falls limp, his head smacking against the counter.

"W-w-what did you just do! W-what was that!" The bartender hastily exclaims, thinking he just witnessed a murder.

But Elsie simply takes a sip of her own glass of wine and answers him, her tone perfectly calm. "That was mostly tetrachlorooxanthrene, mixed in with some other ingredients. Just about instantly fatal a single drop gets in your body. Well, it doesn't actually need to be inside your body, skin contact is enough for it to be absorbed into your blood stream, at which point it would be fatal within three heartbeats."

Right as the man is about to start freaking out, he doesn't know who they are, though she's not worried about that changing, Wash isn't particularly subtle. Wash suddenly shoots upright with a gasp, before immediately turning to pout at Elsie, who doesn't appreciate the expression.

"Don't make that face, it's disgusting." She cruelly comments, looking coldly down on him with a disgusted glare.

However, that look has the opposite effect of upsetting Wash, not that he lets it show, instead just pretending to ignore her statement altogether. "Why that one," he whines, "it sucks."

His power brings him back to life with temporary powers that are dependant on whatever drug was in his system when he died after all, and the one she just killed him with leaves him incredibly horny but also with erectile disfunction.

It's a particular favourite of hers that she had to make some concessions to the Big Boss to get produced. She thinks it's worth it though.

"Now that you're not being a useless drunk, I have a report for you."

"Yeah, yeah. Y'know, we could go out and have this little meeting over a nice dinner-" Wash tries, only for Elsie to cut him off as if he wasn't even speaking.

"A few days ago, a couple of Wards were hospitalised in a fight against some druggies, remnants of those Merchants, or so I've heard."

"Merchants? Who're they?"

The cold glare she gives him would quell lesser men into apologising even if they didn't know what for, but for Wash, he has to keep stoic just to prevent an entirely different reaction from happening. 

Ironically, he's mildly thankful for the drug's side-effects for this, even if he still hates it.

"The Merchants were the gang that we crushed when we first arrived in the city, they were mostly homeless drug peddlers."

"Oh yeah, those guys. I didn't think there was anything left of them?"

"There isn't, really. Just a lot of homeless druggies that know each other and sometimes use the name in the hopes of intimidating fools who haven't realised they don't exist anymore."

In the face of her cold words, Wash can only awkwardly agree. "Err...right... So, what were you talkin' about? Some druggies beat up some Wards? How'd they manage that? Gang up on 'em?"

"That certainly helped, but not as much as you are thinking. It was only a four on two-"

"Some druggies beat up a pair of Wards in a two on one?" Wash interrupts in surprise, once more receiving a scathing glare from Elsie that does absolutely nothing to discourage him.

"As I was saying. The druggies only won because they used a new, almost certainly Tinker-tech, drug. It's called TGT, or Temporary Ghoul Trigger-"

"Hey, don't people call, uhhh, what's-it's-face, uhhh, The First Clown. Don't some call her a ghoul?"

"Stop. Interrupting. Me. I will explain everything. So shut. Up. And save your questions for the end. Okay?"

"Ah, uh, right..."

"Good. Now, as I was saying. The drug, TGT, seems to give whoever is subject to it a simplified and watered down version of The First Clown's power. Those druggies used it to beat the Wards halfway to death before Assault and Battery came and nearly killed all of them once they saw the state of their Wards. Said Wards are now in a coma and missing a good few chunks of flesh, if you were wondering."

"I was not..."

"So far, I am not certain who is supplying or dealing TGT, but I have some ideas and leads that I am currently following up on. I am going to need you to authorise a few jobs for this, as you are the boss here, and need to actually give out orders every now and then."

"I've already said that you can give orders in my stead y'know."

"That doesn't matter. If no one ever sees you doing your job, then they will undermine your authority and efficiency will go down. It doesn't matter if you are incompetent, because unlike me, you are a cape, and people respect that." Normally with a statement like that, there would be some bitterness, but frankly, Elsie doesn't want to be a cape.

Not that anyone can blame her. She's not exactly surrounded by the best examples of what it's like being a cape.

"Fine, fine. Write it up and I'll do it. Anything else?"

"Yes, actually," Elsie says, glaring again at Wash when he opens his mouth to ask if it's about going on a date. He wisely choses not to ask. "I was hoping that you would kick this up the chain. I've heard that the Big Boss has some kind of connection with The Clowns, and since they are clearly a part of whatever is going on with this drug, I was hoping he could pass down some answers."

To her surprise, Elsie, for perhaps the first time, sees Wash get serious at her words. For once, instead of looking at her carelessly and casually, like nothing truly matters, he gives her a hard, serious look that she didn't think he was truly capable of.

And if she is being honest with herself, the sudden shift of demeanour leaves her far more nervous than she'd like to admit. After all, she has gotten used to Wash being a careless, useless boss who offloads all his duties onto her, and who she can treat poorly without concern.

However, the look he is now giving her forcibly reminds her that he is, in fact a parahuman. And not just that, he is a powerful Villain, one of the highest ranked members of the potentially strongest Villain organisation in the country.

It reminds her that despite how he acts, there is a reason why his authority outstrips almost everyone in the organisation.

She can't help but gulp nervously, even as she forces herself to keep her face stoic.

"Elsie." He says, and she straightens her back subconsciously, still caught off guard by his sudden shift of personality. "I'm cool with you doing whatever, y'know? All this leading business, telling people what to do and organising stuff. It really isn't me. But the Boss gave me this position regardless, so I'll get the job done, even if I have to actually do the work, instead of letting more competent people like yourself do all the managing for me."

It's probably the first time she's heard him say so much at once, and she makes sure to listen intently to his every word.

"But. While making demands of me is fine, I know you know your shit better than I do so it's only reasonable that I listen, one thig that I will not, ever, permit. Is making demands of the Boss. His word is law, his vision my ambition, and no one, can demand of him anything. Do you understand?"

Shakily, and with her heart thundering in her chest, Elsie nods her head, not trusting her voice not to crack.

"Good. I will still ask about this TGT, but to be clear, if you ever feel like the Boss is needed for something, you do not make any demands of his time. What you do, is tell me your concerns, so that I can bring them up to the Jack of Hearts, who will then decide if it needs to be brought to the Boss' attention, or if the King of Hearts can handle it instead. The Boss' time is more valuable than any of our lives, even so much as causing him inconvenience is a crime worthy of death. Do you understand?"

One again, Elsie frantically nods her head, but Wash's eyes do not leave her own, so she swallows nervously and answers, regardless of how demeaning she might find her stuttering. "Y- yes Sir. I- I understand."

As if a flip was switched, Wash's face abruptly returns to the casual, lazy expression she is used to. "Good!" He exclaims, before turning back to his drink and acting as if nothing happened.

Still feeling her heart thundering in her chest, Elsie quickly makes up some excuse about writing up what she was talking about, before hurrying out of the bar, doing her best not to make it seem like she is rushing.

The moment she is out of the door, she hurriedly makes her way to her car, parked across the street, and opens the back door, slipping in with considerably less grace than usual.

Her driver, surprised at her sudden appearance, turns back to greet her through the small window separating them, but she doesn't let him speak, simply telling him to take her home before slamming the tinted window shut.

Then, finally alone and with no prying eyes, Elsie allows herself to slump down into her seat, panting and sweating as if she's been on a run. After a moment, she raises her arms in front of her face and silently watches them violently shake for a moment before dropping them down and squeezing them between her thighs in the hopes of stopping the shaking.

She's never seen her boss actually act like the Crime Lord that he is before, and she curses herself for forgetting exactly what she signed up for when she joined the Red Hearts.

When she first started out, she felt she was ready for this kind of thing, for an intimidating boss who would scare her, maybe even harass her. She was ready for that. She knew what she was getting into.

But as time passed, she got too used to Wash's personality and seems to have forgotten exactly who she works for, and what her job is. She's a criminal. The right hand to a Drug Lord. She's ordered the deaths of men, and has undoubtedly ruined lives in pursuit of greater profit.

She needs to stop treating this as if it's some kind of game. It's not. People die. She could die.

She really doesn't want to die.

With one last shivering breath, Elsie brings herself under control, filling herself with renewed determination.

She has learnt her lesson. Just because Wash doesn't demand respect, that doesn't mean she can treat the other high-ranking Red Hearts without the respect they are due, or she very well could find herself in an early grave.

She's heard stories of what the Jack of Hearts is capable of, and she has no desire to be on the bad end of one of those stories.

Deep breaths, Elsie. Deep breaths.

Enough introspection. She has work to do, and if she doesn't want to be killed, she just has to do such a good job that she becomes an invaluable member of the gang.

Her first order of business? Finding out who the fuck is distributing TGT.

The drug trade is Red Heart territory, she can't let some unknown undermine them by selling drugs that they themselves do not have access to.

It's like Wash said, drugs are their thing.

///

A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!

Yo, I had way too much fun writing Elsie, holy crap. You can expect her to get some more screentime in the future, because damn I enjoy how she turned out. :D

Also, with some things, keep in mind that I'm writing this with the intention that Jester and Tear it Down can be read in either order once this is done. So I'll be writing about things, like The First Clown, in such ways that will hopefully make the read more interesting for any future people who read this before Jester.

Also, I was worried about what I was going to do to fill time until canon rolls around (mid-2011) but then I remembered something. I'm a fucking author, I can just make shit up.

So that's what I did, and thus begins the TGT arc, loosely inspired by the Trigger arc in MHA with the yakuza. Except this will likely have long reaching effects now that I've introduced it to the world lol.

Hehehehe, I have some devious plans in the work for how this whole story is going to come to an end, and I cannot express enough how excited I am about it all. Like, I really want to talk about it, but I also really want you to all experience it blind, so I will reluctantly keep my mouth shut. 

It'll be great, trust. :D

(4)Advanced chapters on pat.reon, link in description and profile. Also, join the discord with this invite code! Pj3Dttwses