Gil wasted more time than he might have liked figuring out how to gather information. He was looking for two groups, The Wards and Empire 88, and thought the odds were good that at least one group were supervillains. Well, to be perfectly honest he'd be willing to bet money that the latter were villains; the word "Empire" had a certain connotation that usually wasn't positive in modern era settings. Combined with the fact that his mission involving them was explicitly to beat the shit out of one of them, they were probably the baddies.
The Wards could go either way, but the name had a connotation of protection and authority. That didn't rule out the possibility that they were jackbooted thugs, of course. It just meant they were more likely to be "legitimate" superhumans than the Empire. Being legitimate wasn't necessarily a guarantee of benevolence or good conduct, but still.
On top of all that, Gil really hoped he could find a working marketplace… or one that hadn't already been looted. Grocery shopping seemed like a lost cause, as many of the people he saw were distinctly gaunt and living off of bottled water, but camping supplies and tools were a distinct possibility. A shovel and a basic toolkit alone would do wonders, if he could have found them.
If he'd had anyone with a basic understanding of modern era etiquette, he'd have sent them around to offer refills for water bottles at a modest price. The spring was clean, clear, and infinite. Unfortunately, Snow and Ireena would absolutely draw attention. Worse, if there was some kind of warlord or gang controlling this area they might want to know where he was getting so much fresh water. It just wasn't worth the risk, not when the girls were ultimately just a pair of physically fit teenagers. Profit would have to wait.
Most businesses had given up completely in the city of Brockton Bay. Between electricity being knocked out, rampant looting, and several warring supervillain teams the economy was in shambles. Gil was perfectly willing to engage in a bit of looting himself, but the homeless man he enlisted to give him a view of the city didn't paint a very promising picture. Gil had missed the initial scramble. Between mouthfuls of smoked goat meat, the man explained the abysmal state Brockton Bay was in.
"We're all fucked." He said frankly. "Most places I could go for a bite are gone or have a line around the block now, and the Merchants took over my old place."
"The Merchants?" Gil asked. "Who are they?"
"Archer's Bridge Merchants. Bunch of dealers who happen to have powers at the top." The scruffy man explained, "They mostly work in the docks now, and I guess they keep it safer than some places. They'll get theirs eventually, when the Empire stops eating itself. Till then, we've got to deal with them."
"And the Empire is in some kind of civil war?" Gil asked, "anywhere I should avoid?"
"You should be fine in Purity's territory, white boy." The man said with a chuckle. "I'm a few shades darker than she likes, or I'd be heading that way myself. It's not perfect, but they aren't all that much worse than the PRT and there's less competition. The other Empire capes, Fenrir's Chosen, don't really hold territory, exactly. They've probably got at least a few bases here and there, but they're more of a pop out and do what they want kind of group. Relief trucks and such mostly, though I've heard they'll take people too."
"So the Merchants and two flavors of white supremacist." Gil confirmed, receiving a nod, "Anyone else?"
"There's still some ABB left over, but I figure someone who's moving in right now probably ain't afraid of those idiots. No powerhouses left, now that Oni Lee went into hiding." He scratched his chin. "I think there were also some military types running around? Wearing all black, fighting capes with laser beams, that kind of thing. I heard someone saying they had capes with em sometimes but I don't fucking know."
"It'll have to do." Gil said with a shrug. "Any chance you'd be willing to sell your soul to me? I'll give you another goat stick for your trouble."
"I'm desperate, but not that desperate. I stay out of cape shit." The bum said after a few moments of consideration, surprisingly placid about the rush of information. "So, you planning on making a move?"
"Uh… yeah, I guess I am." Gil admitted. "Just visiting, though. Last thing, where's Purity's territory and where do the Wards stay? Sounds like those'll be my safest spots to lie low if I have to."
••••••••••
Gil checked his tablet as he walked, quickly as he doubted these streets were safe.
"These Wards and this group known as Empire 88 are my targets." He said to himself, clearly picturing his goals and potential plans. "If I can, I would like to know more before I decide who among the Wards is to die. I may spare them if I find all three to be unworthy of death, but I'm not actually opposed to killing unless they are all squeaky clean. The shroud is an extremely valuable item, potentially, and the card may give me options that I otherwise might not have."
As he finished speaking, he felt the unobtrusive presence at the back of his mind melt away.
"I see." Rose whispered to him. "You were right. That was far quicker than discussing it in full. So, I know what you want. How will helping you to pursue it benefit me?"
"I'll allow you to make use of my body for an hour per day in the skyblock." Gil stated. "Whatever you wish to do, though I may renegotiate if you prove to have particularly deviant tastes."
Thus far, Rose's preferred ways of spending time with someone possessed had included producing music, aggressively flexing her fencing skills, and ravaging nubile princesses. Gil would be perfectly happy to set aside an hour for any of those activities once per day.
"A start." Rose said. "But only a start. Being a spirit is no great pleasure for me, and borrowing a man's body isn't entirely comfortable. Use the card to return me to life. You thought it could perhaps do such a thing, no?"
"It might, but in doing so you'd become much less useful." Gil countered. "You being a spirit is what makes you so valuable. I'm not going to secure your cooperation by wasting a powerful resource and making you less valuable to me all in one go."
"Then why should I?" She asked smugly. "I don't fear death, and you don't think it's likely you can control me without a physical form. You can't subdue me for the same reasons you refuse to appease me."
"I'm not going to use that card on you, not right now." Gil hedged. "But the Waifusion thing might work, depending on who or what I fuse you with and the specific mechanics. Alternately, if you help me get to the point where I don't need you as a ghost, you can be more picky. I pay my partners well."
"Perhaps." Rose said, "don't think you'll be able to put me off forever."
••••••••••
As Gil arrived on the street with the Parahuman Response Team HQ, he took a look around. It was in better shape than most of the streets he'd passed, but it sure as hell wasn't unscathed. He checked his tablet; he'd lost a few hours already with nothing to show for it. Less than nothing; he'd paid that hobo with enough meat to make a meal. Gil noted that he really needed some kind of fast travel; teleportation, flight, or superspeed would all be lovely if The Company was going to start dropping him off in places that he'd need to explore and navigate. Even access to a vehicle he could drive would be invaluable. Naturally, it went in his notes for his weekly report.
The base itself, a conspicuous building made up of mostly intact windows, was heavily guarded. Men in body armor, armed with disproportionately high tech weaponry, stood vigil. A sign politely informed any passersby that the PRT HQ was currently closed to the public, but there was a shrine available for anyone who wished to pay their respects to the dead and a phone line to call if they needed help. An addendum noted that the phone line was likely to be backed up more often than not; emergency services should be treated as a last resort.
Gil checked the shrine, the only publicly accessible part of the building, and saw a pair of young men depicted in black and white. Practically children, in a setting like this. Engraved metal plaques identified them as Gallant/ Dean and Aegis/ Carlos. A pair of heroes who gave their lives fighting Leviathan. While he lingered, playing the part of a man with his whole life packed in his backpack, Rose passed through the walls and looked around.
Gil had briefed Rose on the general idea of superheroes, enough for her to recognize one of them if she looked. If she could, she was to possess one of the girls and get them to speak to Gil. With luck, he could stamp them. Even if he couldn't, Rose would be able to assess their psyches first hand and mark them as potential targets.
Only a short time later, as the guards started to give Gil meaningful looks, the front door opened. A young woman in a tight purple bodysuit, decorated with stylized purple arrows, made a beeline towards Gil. She had a large crossbow slung over her shoulder and a dark visor covering the top of her face.
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"Give me a second Clockblocker." She called over her shoulder at a figure clad in white armor. "Hey. You okay? You seem like you're waiting for someone."
Gil glanced down at his tablet, confirming that the tracker was pointing at this young woman. Rose was inside of her. He glanced down at her hands, which were covered partially with fingerless gloves.
"Yeah." He said. "It may sound strange, but could you hold this for me? I think it may be important."
Gil handed the superheroine his stamp, and she walked away to start her nightly patrol. She gave Gil a confused look, but shrugged and popped it into a pouch on her belt. The moment she was out of sight, Gil made himself scarce. Rose couldn't edit memories, and he wasn't sure where this might go. He waited until he saw another girl leave from the roof, hopping from rooftop to rooftop away from the base.
He jogged off after her, doing his best to keep up. Worst case scenario, she'd ask what the fuck he was doing. Best case scenario, he'd get a chance to try something far away from the other two Wards.