After finding herself the unwilling patsy of a Bond villain wannabe, Lisa has had very few pleasures in life. Granted, she wasn’t exactly having the best time before coming to Brockton Bay, but things entered an entirely new level of suckage after being pressganged into forced servitude.
This made the pleasure of watching Seraph’s wildly shifting reactions so much more satisfying. Seeing the single most powerful parahuman in a hundred-mile radius swinging between confusion, outrage, alarm, and concern was comforting, in a strange way.
It meant that he understood the source of her fear and ire. He didn’t downplay Lisa’s panic, either, or dismiss her agitation as an overreaction.
Such an open display of varying emotions also made him more human, as opposed to the unstoppable juggernaut that was fast becoming his reputation. Lisa found it much easier to make observations with his expressions being so easy to read.
For example, Seraph didn’t just know who that woman was or the group she was part of. He was intimately familiar with them. This raised far too many possibilities to pare down, from a former association to being an escaped test subject. Especially given her power’s temporary unreliability whenever she’s around the Trump.
Her enjoyment was short-lived, however, as Seraph quickly got over his surprise. A coldness seemed to frost over his slightly angular face. The familiar intensity returned to the pair of brown eyes. His thin lips pursed and narrow jaws clenched, giving him a severe countenance.
Lisa would admit surprise when she first saw him without a mask this morning, though she did her best not to show it. Younger than she initially thought, he didn’t look more than a year older than her. The short, tousled black hair contrasted deeply with his pale skin.
On the way to his hideout, she marveled at this boy who was barely a head taller than her, and yet had managed to cast such a large shadow. He just seemed so perfectly ordinary. Better-looking than average, sure. The athletic figure would probably turn a few heads at the Boardwalk, too.
Beyond that, though? He could easily pass as just another young man, going about his day.
Well, if he wasn’t mulling over the actions of shadowy organizations, that is. And, to be fair, she did just drop a bomb on him.
It wasn’t like dealing with the Illuminati was an everyday occurrence. As far as Lisa was concerned, the epithet fit, as well. What else was she supposed to call a group that apparently had its hand up the Protectorate’s ass, and was using them as a puppet? Making matters worse, they were perfectly willing to use heroes as sacrificial pawns to get their way.
“Can you just explain what deal you made, please?” Seraph clearly wanted to say something else, but decided to get straight to the point. Fine, Lisa can do that.
“To be brief, they want to work with you,” she drawled. “I agreed to pass on their message, and in exchange, they delay Protectorate response to prevent a catastrophic conflict between you and the heroes. A conflict that would’ve spread throughout the Eastern Seaboard, resulting in mass casualties, both capes and civilians. Thus, earning a Kill Order for you and anyone associated with you.”
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The woman had been explicit in her descriptions of the consequences if Lisa had refused the offer. Even ignoring the potential death toll, it would have meant a lifetime on the run for her and the rest of the Undersiders, at a minimum. It didn’t take a genius to work out Taylor’s role in the averted fiasco, either. The idea of those monsters getting loose didn’t bear thinking about.
Galling though it may be to admit, the incident’s conclusion was the best they could have asked for.
Nobody died, neither Taylor nor Seraph attacked the heroes, and Dragon’s footage of the creatures melting into puddles would make them seem like temporary constructs. Still scary, but infinitely more preferable compared to self-replicating bio-weapons.
“Typical,” the boy scoffed. “Carrot and stick rolled into one.”
Yeah, Lisa didn’t miss that tidbit, either. Nor did she miss the hundreds of subtexts that went unsaid in her brief interaction with the woman. Resources, influence, reach, numbers, and competence – each a signal pointing to the concentration of considerable power in the hands of people who knew how to use it.
“What else?”
Lisa huffed petulantly. “She said to take your time considering the offer. Apparently, you already know how to get in touch with them, if you wanted to.”
Seraph quirked a brow in response, though he didn’t deny the assertion. One point to the previous association angle, then. Lisa really hoped this wasn’t some sort of interorganizational spat that got out of hand.
They both fell silent then, though, for different reasons. It was obvious that Seraph had a better grasp of what was going on under the surface, even though Lisa was the one who spoke with the group’s representative. She, on the other hand, had already spent hours trying and failing to peel away the layers of this mystery.
So, she cast her attention on other things that have been bugging her, instead.
For starters, Taylor has become yet another subject on whom her power refuses to work. As far as it was concerned, she was a void in the rough shape of a person. This was a shock when she first entered the room, as she could still read the girl the last time they met, albeit less clearly than others.
This concerned Lisa because parahuman powers simply don’t work like that. Cape abilities followed patterns that, while not always possible to explain, would still fall within predictable parameters.
A Master doesn’t suddenly develop immunity to Thinkers. They’d have to have that immunity when they triggered.
Exceptions like Eidolon were considered such because he was singular in his ability to pick and choose which power to use. The Butcher was an entirely different can of worms, and the same could be said about the Faerie Queen.
Yet, they all still followed patterns that made sense.
In the case of Taylor, the only explanation for her sudden immunity to her Thinker power is her connection to Seraph. This tracks due to his previous record of empowering others, with her and the bug mistress being prime examples.
On top of sating her burning curiosity and ending the extended silence, Lisa decided to get answers straight from the source.
“Did you make Taylor a blank spot for Thinkers?”
The approach was more straightforward than she usually preferred, but Seraph seemed the type to like things blunt.
“Hmm?” he hummed, blinking in confusion. Wow, those thoughts must’ve been really deep.
“Taylor,” she repeated, “I can’t read her anymore. Was it something you did?”
His frowned deepened at her question. “I’m not sure. The changes she went through weren’t anything I intended, or even knew was possible. You’d probably be better at figuring out what’s going on than I am.”
Huh… that was more honesty than she expected. Once again, Lisa is struck by how Seraph seems simultaneously suspicious and trusting when it comes to her, specifically. Which was another thing that piqued her curiosity. Unfortunately, now wasn’t the time to tackle that issue.
“Are you telling me that you didn’t mean to empower Taylor?” she asked.
“No, I didn’t,” he groaned. “I didn’t even know that I could! It was just supposed to be some healing!”
Now, it was Lisa’s turn to gape in incredulity.
“What about me? Didn’t your power give mine a boost, too?”
“About that,” he rubbed the back of his neck with a disgruntled expression, “I didn’t even mean to heal you. It just happened.”
This… this explained so much. The entire city had been speculating on what made the dangerous parahuman tick. PHO was absolutely flooded with rampant theorizing, and what Lisa was able to glean from the PRT’s files painted an almost schizophrenic picture of the cape.
All of those guesses, analyses, and profiling. All of them missed one crucial detail.
Seraph was a god-damned Himbo!