My bunny slippers just ran for cover

[will_you_still]

Morgan doesn't strictly need to sleep. Even if she didn't want to put up with the annoyance of constantly having a caffeine buzz and having to ask for coffee on almost every summon, there are naps. Naps can keep a daeva going for quite a long time.

But there's something unutterably pleasant about curling up in a proper bed in pajamas and just sleeping. And then waking up and getting breakfast in those pajamas. So she does that, because immortality's a long unpleasant time if you don't enjoy the little things every now and then. Like adorable bunny slippers and soft pajamas and sleeping in.

She's midway through a fruity salad thing that counts as the standard fairy breakfast when she feels the summon. Showing up to a summon in pajamas? Eh. If they're proper summoners she bets they've seen worse, and she doesn't particularly care if they think she's unprofessional.

She puts her spoon down and accepts the summon.

Comments

[peterxy]

Oh well. They'll continue coming up with ideas, some ludicrous, some interesting, most infeasible or inefficient, a small minority downright dangerous.

And soon enough her costume's ready.

[will_you_still]

Excellent.

She persuaded herself away from the darker colors she's naturally drawn to, for fear of looking too much like a villain. That is not what she has in mind at all. The designer even persuaded her to add gold trim's to the outfit. Attention grabbing, but tasteful. This isn't a costume for being in the background, but she’s not going to look like an idiot, either. The maroon and the gold go well together, and the minimal amount of black is lightened by a more heroic light grey.

Because the whole thing could potentially go up in flames from re-entry (or in a fight) it’s multilayered – parts of it could easily be replaced if only some of it caught on fire. While Morgan would hesitate to name herself invincible with the Simurgh flying around, the things that would hurt her are not going to be bullets, or fiery lasers, or people that punch really hard. She passes on body armor and instead wears something a bit more attention grabbing.

But the black bodice-like top has subtle pockets that contain sewing needles that in the hands of a fairy could be used to assassinate anyone they like, even as it draws gazes to her chest. The jacket, along with being heat resistant and is water resistant, has a detachable warm lining and perfectly sized holes for her wings to fit through. A multilayered set of not-quite-skirts go over comfortable pants, but stop short of being able to impede her movement in any way. The boots on her feet are steel-toed; she doesn’t need the protection, but she might need the extra oomph to a kick. Probably not, but she doesn’t mind forking over the extra money.

Morgan tries it on, and looks at herself in the mirror. Then she pulls out her phone and sends the designer a large tip. They've earned it.

Making her proper costumed debut by taking out the Slaughterhouse Nine is certainly her kind of style. The major problem with that’s the Siberian: she doesn’t know how she works, and she hurt Alexandria. That means Morgan wants more information before she does anything. She calls the Protectorate to see if someone who knows about the situation is willing to talk about it with her.

[peterxy]

That... really depends on what she wants to talk about. Just calling the Protectorate won't connect her with anyone of note. I mean, of course they believe she's really Morgan, yes, they know she took the Leviathan to space, no, they absolutely do not think she's a loony calling them up like the previous five hundred twenty seven calls this week, but see, busy people are busy.

[will_you_still]

She should have realized this would happen. Sigh.

"I actually want to discuss the strengths and weaknesses of the Slaughterhouse Nine, maybe coordinate if possible to prevent tripping over each other - would it help if I showed up in person to prove I'm myself?"

[peterxy]

"Of course you're yourself," the woman with the pleasant voice says over the phone. "And yes, the best way to schedule an appointment is in person."

[will_you_still]

"Okay. Thank you very much for your help. I'll be by tomorrow at the building in New York. Have a lovely day."

Tomorrow, at the building in New York: there is a Morgan.

She is in costume.

[peterxy]

She does not cause any car crashes but that is only because this kind of thing (almost) only happens in movies.

She does draw attention, though. Whether it be because of the wings or the... suggestiveness... of the costume is up to the reader's interpretation.

And there is: a reception.

[will_you_still]

"Hello. Could I speak to someone in charge about coordinating efforts against local supervillains?"

Oh, this is fun.

[peterxy]

Now she is definitely recognized. Not a whole lot of fairy capes.

"Yes, may I get your name?" Because even if she is slightly famous it's still polite.

[will_you_still]

"Morgan. No last name."

[peterxy]

The lady types into her computer. "Deputy Chief Director Reinhold will be able to see you tomorrow at 9AM. Is that acceptable?"

[will_you_still]

"Perfect, thank you," she says agreeably. "Have a lovely day."

[peterxy]

"You, too!" she says as she hands Morgan a sheet of paper with printed information looking very Official, as well as a watermark thing that's probably impossible to copy and Tinker-made.

[will_you_still]

Morgan takes the sheet of paper, inclines her head, and floats off.

Tomorrow at 9AM: there she is again, with the Official sheet of paper. Ready to talk about local supervillains, and by local supervillains she means the Slaughterhouse Nine.

[peterxy]

Well, there's... very little that's 'local' about the S9.

In any case, when a PRT officer holding a foam sprayer sees the paper, they escort her to a techy-looking (by current standards) elevator, which opens noiselessly and smoothly to allow her in, and moves again noiselessly and smoothly.

The officer takes her to a small meeting room with a round table and five chairs, and waits inside, in position.

[will_you_still]

On a galactic scale the Slaughterhouse Nine are very local! On the same celestial body, even!

Morgan picks a chair and sits, and decides to base her approach on who the other four chairs are for.

[peterxy]

The door opens and a tall, broad-shouldered man with a scar on his right cheek walks in, wearing a suit but possessing an air of 'ex-military.' He doesn't even blink upon seeing Morgan's costume, and at no signal of his the PRT officer leaves the room, closing the door behind themself.

"You must be Morgan. I am Deputy Chief Director Reinhold. It is a great pleasure to meet you," he says in a deep voice, extending his hand.

[will_you_still]

"It's a pleasure to meet you too," she says, standing and accepting the handshake.

[peterxy]

His handshake is exactly as you'd expect given his description. He takes a seat not directly opposite to where she'd been sitting since there's an odd number of them but almost, and gestures for her to do the same. The table is small enough that it doesn't feel too impersonal.

"So, I've heard very good things about you, what with the Leviathan and the Ash Beast. How can the PRT be of help?"

[will_you_still]

"Well, I'd like to take out the Slaughterhouse Nine," says Morgan, as if she's saying 'I'd like to go to the store and buy some bread,' "but I lack accurate information on all of its members' capabilities, particularly the Siberian."

[peterxy]

Now she has managed to draw a reaction from Reinhold, even if it's just a blink. "Well, before anything I wish you the best of luck, and might ask you to inform us if and when you do decide to take them on, for reasons that will become apparent."

He clears his throat and opens the laptop he brought in his suitcase that was totally mentioned when he was described as having walked in. Really.

"The Slaughterhouse Nine is supposed to have nine members, but our latest information on them, up to date as of last November, lists only eight. They may have recruited a ninth since, but they've been silent since."

The Deputy Chief Director taps a few keys into his laptop and his screen reflects on a flat-screen TV on one of the walls. There is a list of eight members there: Jack Slash, the Siberian, Winter, Chuckles, Nice Guy, Screamer, Miasma, and Shatterbird.

[will_you_still]

"I was not planning to do anything rash or attack such a powerful target without informing you," she assures, because that is exactly the thing that would give her tactical nightmares about a super powered solo individual. "And did not in fact mean right now. If an opportunity where they're weakened opens up, I'd like to take advantage."

[peterxy]

He nods curtly. "Good to know. That said, it's not unlikely that they will come after you, either to recruit you or test you. They like causing mayhem around particularly effective heroes or other similarly inclined people and projects, so you being informed of this is a good choice anyway." He clicks Jack Slash's name. A file with a picture opens, as well as a description of powers, a list of crimes, a psychological profile, an estimated age, etc. "Their leader is Jack Slash. His power is distorting space around blades he holds, giving them extra reach, as well as proportionally improved durability and sharpness. Do not underestimate him, though, he is the single longest-surviving parahuman with a kill order on his head. He's a tactical genius as well as a master manipulator; we suspect he's the only thing holding the Nine together."

[will_you_still]

Solemn nod. This is all stuff she's heard before, but it's still important to pay attention. "Any known defenses, of his own or by one of the others?."

[peterxy]

"Yes." He returns to the previous page and then clicks the Siberian. "The Siberian is both an immovable object and an unstoppable force. Furthermore, she can extend those traits to people who are touching her, if she so desires, so any member of the Nine who is touching her should be assumed to be completely invincible."