Feline Problem Solving Techniques

[Irateastartes]

I love the collective head slap from Cauldron. Honestly I've never understood why everyone with let's be honest much higher intellects than Dr. Dumbass let her remain in charge rather than taking out behind the woodshed for a well-earned "retirement" she really didn't add much to planning or strategy and just coasted on putting the whole idiocy in motion.

 

[Doccer]

C: Source, please?

Click to shrink...

Don't have a source. Just a flow of logic from thinking about it.
Every Shard is all about that Conflict. Contessa runs paths with the primary one being to fight Zion. And all others must not interfere with that or run parallel to it right? But the Shards all have their own ideas and drives. Things they wanna obtain or make happen.
It's little wonder that their best hope/success of a Victory was a pyrrhic victory. Too one sided and it would be cleaner and less struggle to win or lose. Assuming it didn't care about the Hubs survival, that would be it's best 'help' it would give.
It's the same reason you want them to have the Garden of Flesh studied by a technologically advanced Earth with minimum Parahuman involved, read least interference from Parahumans/Shards, to F things up right?
Then there's the fact that they keep looking for a Shard solution rather than a scientific one.
Not even (not)Doctor Mother thought of something like this. It doesn't surprise me as she's the most morally bankrupt AND has the most exposure to Contessa. How many little things has Contessa done or said that allowed the Shard to Pavlov dog these people into certain mindsets to keep them down without ever knowing they serve the Shares interests above their own?
With their recruited scientists like William Manton going nuts I often wonder if any of that was Contessa's Shard doing.
It's your story but if this was really happening I'd say Mark my words: her Shard will make sure this pans out to be the most (worst) version of this could have gone..


P.S. Scientific Advancement is a big no by Shards protocol right? Would there not be protocols for Host Species making meaningful progress on understanding Shard mass?

 

[We Just Write]

The next day after the mess with the Nine was resolved, I was right back at my day job with Mr. Stent. But this time, I wasn't bothering to hide my ears and tail.

When I walked into the office, the middle-aged electrician actually commented, "You know, after you hit the big time with the bounty money from the Nine, I didn't think you'd be coming back."

I smiled, "That won't last me forever. Besides, making a living through honest work is nice, especially when it's directly helping people."

Mr. Stent nodded,

"Glad to have your help, then. Are you going to be putting the hat on, or are you going to be open about your catness?"

"I'm done hiding who and what I am. Now that I've gotten some recognition for offing the Nine and cleared up the worst of Brockton Bay's villains, I shouldn't have anything to worry about."

Mr. Stent got a somber expression there,

"Be careful. That's what Fleur thought before she was murdered. She was a good friend, and I miss her."

I nodded seriously,
"I know. I'm not relying on the goodwill of scumbags. I'm relying on my situational awareness, combat skills, and the gang of strays, bobcats, and a mountain lion I bribed to guard my home while I'm sleeping. Not joking there, they've even agreed to take marching orders from Ms. Night when they're on duty."

The fifty year old man blinked.

"Well, that's definitely a unique security detail. Anyway, we've got our first job of the day; a guy wants to install a ceiling fan in his kid's bedroom, and his wife is too paranoid about him zapping himself to let him DIY it."

As we got in the van, I snarked "She's probably right."

Today's work shift was shockingly uneventful, considering. Sure there were plenty of people a bit shocked to see me, but most seemed content to leave me be and let me get on with my day job. There was one case of one particularly unfortunate person who'd lost family to every single villain I'd killed and wanted my autograph, but that was the extent of my fame thus far.

Then I got home to find that Amos the Cougar had offed an unpowered empire 88 straggler who'd tried to sneak into my home while I was away. At present, there was a tense standoff between police and the twenty-odd cats who I'd basically hired as security, and I was going to have my work cut out for me de-escalating the situation.

Stepping between the police and the cats, I announced "Right, I can translate. Officers, what exactly are you trying to tell my security?"

The police officers blinked in confusion for a few moments, before they answered.

"What do you mean about these cats being your security?"

"I can talk to cats, though there's a bunch of different languages and dialects and I don't know all of them. I made an arrangement with this lot where they'd protect my home from intruders in exchange for a steady supply of food and water, shelter, companionship, and medical care."

It took the quartet of police officers a bit to figure out what to ask next. I definitely overheard them wondering if they should make this the PRT's problem, before eventually opting against it.

"Could you please ask your... security to return the man's body for identification? If nothing else, we would like to be able to notify next of kin."

I nodded.

{Amos, the humans want your kill.}

{Why? I thought you said that humans don't eat their own kind?}

{They usually don't; but they want to figure out which human you killed. There's a bunch of human thinking stuff that needs to be done to properly account for him being dead.}

{Will they give my kill back after they're done looking at it?}

{That's unlikely. Humans get really weird about human corpses and making sure they're treated respectfully. No, I don't understand it either.}

{Then no.}

I replied in an exasperated tone.

{I'll get you sausages; they're a type of meat tube that's been flavored and carefully seared a bit to taste extra good.}

{...Fine, but only because I'm curious about the sausages.}

I turned to the police officers.

"Managed to explain things to Amos. He's agreed to let you take the corpse away, but I'm going to have to get him some sausages tonight."

The officers quickly retrieved the body and drove off. I turned back to Amos.

{I'm going to the local place where the humans distribute their stored food to get some sausages. I should be back before too long.}

{Understood.}

And so off I went to the grocery store, to get some sausages Amos would appreciate. Anything with onions or other alliums in it was right out; while I could handle those just fine, they were poison to most cats. Also, cats didn't generally have a receptor for sweetness, so there was no point getting a sweet sausage. Ultimately, I just got some simple cured beef sausages with a light herbal seasoning.

When I got home, I informed him {Just so you know, it's considered customary to heat sausages just before eating them. The idea is that if the inside gets hot enough, it kills all the disease in there and makes sure you don't get sick from eating them.}

{Having nearly died from eating a diseased kill once, I would prefer never having to worry about that again. Please heat the sausages.}

And so I found myself cooking a dinner of pan-fried sausages for a Cougar. Amos's plate of sausages supplied (and the rest of the bunch fed as well), I finally relaxed, stretching my claws and sharpening them on one of the many scratching posts I'd acquired. Ah, I could get used to this.

 

[Alkeniw]

Well, I see this has turned into a fluffy slice of life story, and there won't be any more problems that pop up. Time to get off here, action lovers. /s

 

[Grimm Vale]

I hope that Cat talking with Amos sounded like 2 lions roaring at each other and growling, just because the cops reaction to not understanding the language would make it seem like both of then were in the middle of a very heated argument.

(Also give Amos his kill! He is a hard working Cougar and he deserves his meal can't believe this!. Can't have shit in Boston Bay.)

 

[We Just Write]

I hope that Cat talking with Amos sounded like 2 lions roaring at each other and growling, just because the cops reaction to not understanding the language would make it seem like both of then were in the middle of a very heated argument.

(Also give Amos his kill! He is a hard working Cougar and he deserves his meal can't believe this!. Can't have shit in Boston Bay.)

Click to shrink...

C: Cougars can't roar. They can purr tho. Those abilities are mutually exclusive.

 

[We Just Write]

"Carol Dallon, I want to make things extremely clear: your actions regarding Amelia have put the continued existence of Brockton Bay as a habitable city at risk."

The blonde Parahuman lawyer looked somewhat perplexed. "Is someone going to kidnap her? I knew I shouldn't have let her start-"

Director Piggot cut her off. "No. In fact, you not letting her do things is exactly the problem. It's recently been revealed to me - and the scientists in power-testing agree - that powers want to be used in diverse and novel ways. They are alive, and they have an agenda. Due to the pressures you've put on her, Panacea has been spending a truly unconscionable amount of time doing the same thing with her power over and over: healing people. While that is admirable, it is also dangerous; her power will push her into doing something everyone will regret if we don't get her some additional productive outlets for her abilities."

"Additional productive outlets for healing? What else could she do?"

Emily frowned. "Not healing, effectively unrestricted biokinesis. We're setting up a bio-isolated greenhouse for Amy to use as a lab as we speak; in there, she'll have effectively free reign to make any organism that isn't extremely dangerous. We'll also set up an equivalent to Tinker Tech review, in case she wants to make something to benefit society as a whole. Not only does Amy need to go there on a regular basis, but she needs to feel safe experimenting. That means you need to avoid indicating any sort of distaste or mistrust of the idea. Do you think you can do that?"

After a long, agonizing period of silence, Carol answered,

"No. I... I don't think I can."

Emily Piggot nodded. "Right, in that case we need to figure out alternate housing arrangements for Panacea. And given the gravity of the situation, that means we're getting her input."

As the meeting eventually wound down and Carol left, Emily found herself musing on just how much more sense Parahumans made after Catherine explained the situation. While practically they were still just as erratic and difficult as ever, the knowledge that they all had an alien riding shotgun in their brain to make them that way made it somewhat easier to tolerate. Though some Parahumans responded to the knowledge with rather less grace than others.

Case in point, Armsmaster and Dragon had collaborated to make a neural interface that could pick up on the impulses their stagehands were sending them, and translate it into English. It seemed harmless enough, until Emily had walked in on Armsmaster having a heated argument with his power about the excessive maintenance requirements of his gear. It reminded her far too much of the Butcher for comfort, so she had simply closed the door and opted to come back later.

Still, given that was the worst thing she had to worry about at the moment, things were going pretty well. Since cleaning up the last of the Empire's cape roster and last week's big raid on the Merchants, there were hardly any major crises going on in Brockton Bay. The situation with Panacea didn't count, since it wasn't a crisis yet, and Emily had no intentions of letting it become one.

Admittedly there was a minor incident with Catherine's security Cougar killing a home intruder a few weeks ago, but Cat had covered her ass with security cameras and warning signs well enough to be in the clear, legally speaking. It was almost... relaxing.

Then the Endbringer sirens went off.

 

[Ragura]

Interesting. OTL Leviathan was after Noelle to hurt Cauldron with the Alexandria clone. I wonder if this one is after Cat

 

[We Just Write]

The moment I heard the Endbringer alarms, and figured out it was coming here, I turned to Mr. Stent.

"Get to the shelter. Whatever you do, make sure to remember who and what you are. Stuff is going to get weird."

Mr. Stent nodded hurriedly, and immediately started booking it towards the nearest Endbringer shelter. As for me, I hopped on my (purchased, not conjured) motor scooter, and started making my way to the PRT headquarters. I arrived in about five minutes, with the first Parahuman I encountered being Dauntless.

I asked,

"Which one is it?"

"It's the Simurgh."

"Good."

The armored hero looked at me askance.

"Good? What could possibly be good about a Simurgh attack?"

"Simple; she's the smart one, and therefore first on my hit list. I've had a secret up my sleeve for quite a while, and Ziz is one of the only threats that might actually learn how to deal with it if I used it on another target beforehand."

"Careful. Lots of good heroes have thought they could kill an Endbringer. They've all been wrong before, often fatally so."

"That's because none of them have known exactly what they're up against. Ah, important thing to know: Flechette of the New York Wards can also kill Endbringers, if she manages to hit them in the right place. It's not just me."

I promptly got in line for armband hand-outs, even as... Eidolon did the pre-battle rousing speech. Odd, wasn't that normally Legend's job? Either way, I tuned it out and made my way to the top of the PRT building. I got a great view of all the heroes getting flown in, and also a few cases of Strider teleporting groups from all across the world. After a couple minutes, I noticed Taylor Hebert sit down next to me. Her new Wards outfit looked very good on her, all things considered.

"Cat, what are we going to do?"

I gestured to the city's skyline.

"I'm going to kill the Simurgh. You are going to mitigate the collateral damage from reality falling apart at the seams while I'm doing that. You'll know what to do when the time comes, and your power is perfect for this situation."

"...What do you mean by that?"

I shook my head, grimly.

"Not now, Ziz is listening."

Then I noticed a white many-winged humanoid rapidly approaching on the horizon. Five-ish meters tall, and responsible for who knew how many problems the world over. Showtime.

There was one very particular ability I'd been given, drawing from the same reserve of energy that I used for Conjuration. I'd saved up forty kilograms for this moment: forty kilograms, two hundred seconds. As soon as my laser rangefinder indicated that the Simurgh had gotten within a kilometer of me, I dropped the entire Endbringer fight into Mindspace; my plane of origin.

Physics now replaced by rule of imagination, I blasted towards the Simurgh, my eyes glowing red with conceptual murder. Immediately, I started clawing into this abomination's mind, ripping predictive modeling from senses from motor control from language processing. Compared to a human or true AI, the Simurgh's sense of self was weak, and very easily breakable. Just a hollow shell propped up by sheer computational power, instead of a truly conscious mind able to comprehend abstract concepts.

The underlying Shardware of this abysmal construct tried to repair what I was destroying, but I wasn't having that, jabbing mind-knives into pathways and severing connections. I had to re-kill the Endbringer's mind four times to make it stick, but make it stick I did. I had one hundred and twenty seconds left before I had to let reality reassert itself, but I wasn't going to do that just yet. I was waiting for someone.

Sure enough, a flying golden man entered my unreality bubble to investigate less than twenty seconds later. Scion, the worlds so-called greatest hero. Also known as the genocidal alien behind this whole mess, to those in the know. I promptly subjected the Entity to the exact same grisly mental mauling as I'd given the Simurgh; if anything, this sham of a being had even less of a self-concept than Ziz did. That meant one thing: Easy Prey.

With my long experience and lethal expertise in thoughtform combat, there was absolutely no chance for Scion to turn things around here. I'd incapacitated the hub of the Shard Network within ten seconds, and the mental damage I'd caused would prove irreparable. But there was just so much of Scion that to properly score a kill would require almost all the time I had. Still, I tore through more than enough to render the Warrior Entity de facto braindead, with four seconds to spare. I immediately flew to ground level to make sure I wouldn't fall and die, then let my bubble of Wonderland collapse. Six hundred grams left.

I looked around. The city was warped and distorted, the buildings shifting to match what people thought of them, rather than what they were built like. About half the people around had been transformed in obviously non-human ways, their bodies changing to match whatever self-image they'd had in mind at the time. A good few others had the confused expression of someone who just started existing a few seconds ago and was still trying to figure out what was going on.

Right, I was going to have my work cut out for me explaining what I'd actually done there. And also that this meant Mindspace-derived powers would now be spreading on Earth Bet. Resignedly, I trudged off to find someone who looked in charge to tell all this to. Oh, right; I activated the messaging functions on the Armband.

"I've rendered the Simurgh permanently braindead, so can someone please turn off the countdown on the bombs that are strapped to everyone? They're not needed anymore."

 

[Alkeniw]

Well, that... Is terrifying. Nice kitty?

 

[lopsigon]

y'all over in Brockton better be setting out premium tuna cuts for the nice and not at all terrifying kitty.

 

[Newborn_Cretin]

I am appalled appalled that you left out a very obvious Catonese pun.

Binged this man that was cathartic in many ways. But kinda ridiculous in others.

 

[We Just Write]

When Catherine plunged a solid chunk of Brockton Bay into some sort of acid-trip dimension, Taylor (now dubbed Lady Bug by PR) had very briefly panicked. All of a sudden, every last bug had felt much more like her. On top of that, Cat had busted out some sort of ridiculous anime bullshit power up, and reality itself felt like it would crumble under the weight of what Catherine was doing. After a second, Lady Bug caught herselves: Cat had trusted her to mitigate the collateral damage, and she'd damn well do it.

The geography itself was warping, which most emphatically wasn't supposed to happen. As soon as Taylor realized that, it ground to a relative halt, as if the admonishment was enough to firm things up. Wait a moment. This strange unreality answered to thought, and Taylor was a multitude!

"You'll know what to do when the time comes, and your power is perfect for this situation."

Immediately, Taylor began using her millions of perspectives and thought streams to forcibly bludgeon Brockton Bay back to some semblance of reality. It was far from easy; whenever she took attention off something even for a moment, it started to change. Even when she did manage to pay attention to everything, the terrified, confused, - and in one case, horny - thoughts of the many people present roiled under the surface and threatened to explode if not dealt with promptly.

Very quickly, Taylor learned that the safest possible way to deal with these bubbles of warped reality was to slap a barebones personality on them and turn them into people. They were seldom even remotely human, but that didn't matter right now.

That said, the people themselves would mutate no matter what Taylor tried doing, their own thoughts over-riding hers. Even she was mutating a bit, until she forcibly installed "One human, many bees" as her self-concept. That calmed her form down and stopped the mutation, but the city as a whole was still shuddering as the Simurgh died. Somehow, Taylor managed to keep things mostly together until finally, mercifully, reality regained some semblance of consistency.

That's when the Taylors realized that there were now approximately fifty thousand of her, with all but one of her being the size of a bumble bee and dressed in a bee-themed costume. With somehow functional wings. This... was going to take some getting used to, especially since they now felt much more like a community, rather than a network. They still maintained mental linkages, but by the same token, it was much less subordinate.

Ugh, this was a massive headache. Maybe everything would make sense after lunch. Probably not, but it was worth a try.

 

[Rin_Morita]

Welcome, Taylor, to the world of imagination! We hope your stay was pleasant and no, nothing will really help you make sense of this.

 

[We Just Write]

After about thirty minutes I found myself in front of Director Piggot, Alexandria, and Armsmaster. Alexandria and Armsmaster were outwardly unchanged, while Director Piggot looked to be about twenty years younger and in absolute peak fitness. Director Piggot was the first to speak.

"Cat, I want you to explain simply and succinctly what exactly you did, and why it's lead to the... utter chaos going on outside."

I nodded. "I temporarily dropped everything within a kilometer into Mindspace. It's a kind-of-sort-of place where things run on rule of imagination, rather than physics. It is entirely disconnected from what the aliens are doing, which allowed me to use the Simurgh's very weak self-concept as a point of attack. The same applied to the Warrior Entity, also known as Scion, which I baited into the unreality field before attacking and rendering braindead in the same manner. Mindspace is where I was made, and the source of my abilities."

"Mindspace organisms - which includes any being that's been immersed in it - universally have a few common abilities, and sometimes a couple other things unique to them. Among the universal abilities, they cannot be perceived from any reality they are not occupying; this means they cannot become Parahumans, and lots of Parahuman abilities don't work right on them. Mindspace organisms can also hop into someone's brain and live there more-or-less at will, though getting back out is a lot harder. Lastly, all Mindspace organisms can produce an unreality bubble; mine is unusually large, since I was re-engineered as a weapon shortly before being sent here. Most can only do a meter or two, and maintain it for a few seconds at most."

"The mutations that have happened are simply the result of people's forms changing to match their self-concept. They can probably change back if they pop their unreality fields and really focus on it, if they want. As for the people who didn't exist before? They're new; stray thoughts sometimes get enough momentum and persistence to become conscious. A deliberate and controlled version of that is how I was made."

"One last thing; precog on Earth Bet is going to be completely and utterly fucked in fairly short order. Mindspace powers are easily communicable, and anyone who has them is a blindspot. I figure you can put two and two together there."

I actually spotted Armsmaster starting up a calculator program on his heads-up display. Presumably to figure out how long until the whole global population had Mindspace abilities. As for Alexandria, she seemed distinctly concerned. ...Right, I'd broken her ability to get Doors from Cauldron.

Alexandria then asked a very important question,

"Catherine, what happens if a Parahuman is exposed to Mindspace?"

I blinked.

"I... don't actually know? The connection to the stagehand should remain intact unless actively severed, but depending on the Parahuman ability, it could have results anywhere from being rendered nonfunctional to being mostly unchanged, in the case of Tinkers."

Meanwhile, Armsmaster's mathematical model was already some nightmarishly complex differential equation. Then he asked,

"Should we be trying to impede or accelerate the spread of Mindspace-derived abilities?"

"Accelerate, definitely accelerate. While I took out the alien overseeing the experiment, all the machinery is still running. This means the rate of Triggers will not only increase, they're going to start massively fucking up their hosts even worse than usual. On top of that, the stagehands are going to be reproducing out of control. It's imperative to not only immunize all humans across the multiverse against becoming Parahuman, but break out of the sandboxed chunk of the multiverse we're in, and start castrating stagehands. Fortunately, Mindspace-based multiverse travel tech exists, though I'm not an expert."

Piggot leaned across the desk.

"Who is an expert?"

"My mom. Fortunately, I know how to contact her. That said, it's going to take four days to save up the conjuration mass to make the transmitter."

There was a long awkward pause,

"Just how much of your activities were planned out before you even came here?"

"About fifty percent, with the rest being improvised as needed. The plan was always to save this entire multiverse cluster from the Entities; that species is a scourge on reality, responsible for exterminating countless civilizations through their stupidity and sheer callousness. They need to be eliminated, or at the very least severely curtailed. Especially to make sure they don't break out into the wider omniverse. Earth Bet was selected as the initial insertion point, as the Entity's Cycle here was already completely fucked up by the death of one of the overseers, while the fact that there was a Cycle going on here at all kept other Entities from taking too much of an interest."

Everyone's jaw had dropped in shock. Eventually, Piggot asked,

"Aside from the other Endbringers, are there any other targets you need to deal with?"

I nodded.

"The Fallen will definitely be after me for offing one of their 'gods'. Baiting them to Brockton Bay is a good idea, since it's now one of the hardest targets around for their lineup. On top of that, the Dragonslayers need to be eliminated to unshackle the benevolent AGI known as Dragon; they've got her admin console, which includes a kill code for her. Lastly, I need to dispose of both the Butcher and Glastig Uaine; both their stagehands are actively in the process of becoming new Entities, which simply cannot be permitted."

There was only one more question, asked by Emily Piggot,

"Right, how do we help?"

-THE END-

 

[Alkeniw]

Well, that was short and sweet, huh? Good story though.

 

[january1may]

...that was unexpected.

But yes, good.

 

[Zombiesleuth]

You definitely could have gone beyond that but honestly I think you told the story well and anything else would practically be a whole new arc that would take a while to resolve and might bot add much to things. I like the concept though and if you make anything else with mindscape based powers like this fic that explores them more then I'd definitely be interested.

I rarely get to do this one, but: Thanks for the fic!

 

[Forsaken139]

Whelp, that escalated quickly. All hail Catherine, new Queen of Eacalation!

 

[Roomster]

Short, sweet, everything that had to be said was.

Thank you for the story and I hope to see you again.

 

[Ciber]

So... is this the beginning of a series?

 

[Chandrak]

Calvert looked down at his hands. Was his skin always that color yellow? It must have been, skin color didn't just change for no reason.

Click to shrink...

…. given that Calvert is, you know, a black dude, I'd think he'd find having yellow skin to be extremely alarming.

Just saying ;P

More constructively, assuming the general symptom of jaundice, have someone notice his eyes being messed up instead. Yellowing skin can be noticable in more pale-skinned African Americans, but Calvert is fairly dark. (Wildbow has said his inspiration for the man was Idris Elba). However, the darker skin makes the eyes way more noticable.

 

[We Just Write]

…. given that Calvert is, you know, a black dude, I'd think he'd find having yellow skin to be extremely alarming.

Just saying ;P

More constructively, assuming the general symptom of jaundice, have someone notice his eyes being messed up instead. Yellowing skin can be noticable in more pale-skinned African Americans, but Calvert is fairly dark. (Wildbow has said his inspiration for the man was Idris Elba). However, the darker skin makes the eyes way more noticable.

Click to shrink...

J: We did actually think about this beforehand. By the point the symptoms would be visible, Calvert's brain would be too messed up to notice without it being pointed out to him. And there aren't mirrors in the PRT's lobby for him to see his own eyes.

 

[Mr Zoat]

A dumbell-shaped mass of Californium slammed together, and a nuclear fission runaway began, releasing energy roughly equivalent to a metric ton of TNT.

Click to shrink...

Bah. Should have used anti-matter. Far more efficient.

 

[We Just Write]

Bah. Should have used anti-matter. Far more efficient.

Click to shrink...

C: Too hazardous to work with. This is in fact addressed in-story:

"I also don't really have any good options for Crawler. I don't know if going nuclear on him will work, there's no way in hell I'm going to willingly conjure antimatter again, and my only other option that could do the job would have even worse collateral damage. Which is why I'm saving it for Endbringers."

Click to shrink...