Before I had even figured out what my bugs were sensing, I reacted to their signals.  I slammed my arm out, rigid, my hand splayed, and felt a jarring pain as I tried to absorb my entire body weight with one arm and force myself away.

In other words, she was about to land on something she’d rather have only one contact point with: the metal leg.

I felt a lack of traction as my hand made contact with something soft and squishy.

Or at least that’s what she thought.

Soft and squishy isn’t the words I’d normally describe the hellhounds with, but flesh sure is soft and squishy compared to metal.

My maneuver was too minor to make a real difference, but I managed to buy myself a precious few inches.

My hand, arm and shoulder were caught in the containment foam.

…as is foam. Shit.

The gamble and assumption I was working with was that electricity followed the path of least resistance.  Insulated costume vs. vapor in the air?  It would travel through the vapor.  Insulated costume vs. metal leg?  It would travel down the leg.

Sounds about right.

Either way, I was glad when I didn’t burn my foot or have it get fried or go numb.  I was damn glad I didn’t die.

That would be awkward for everyone involved, including you.

With all of this consuming my attention, I was caught off guard when something large brushed against me while I was mid-leap.

My first thought was that Dragon decided to attack her with another leg, but the word choice “brushed” makes me think it’s Bentley.

The impact threw my airborne momentum off, drove me to one side.  My first, most immediate, thought, before I even considered the source of the attack, was where I was about to land.

Although if it was, that was kinda careless of Bitch to let him do.

It was reflexive, but I sent a spray of bugs out from the armor near my glove, scattering them onto the area just in front of me.

…what if the electricity decides to go through the bugs?

Dragon moved to bar more of the window with the bulk of her body, her back arching.  Her upper body and head now pointed almost down at an angle, the streams from her shoulders reorienting to block off the escape routes available to Bitch, her dog and me.

At this point, a good tactic for Dragon would be to fill the window with foam.

So I did something risky and borderline stupid.  I lunged forward and stepped onto the metal foot of Dragon’s armored suit, like Regent had been planning to do until he discovered it was electrified.

……

I had known the same spider silk I’d used for my costume was insulated against electrical charges, had even put that into practice in my fight against Armsmaster during the fundraiser.  This was something altogether different.

Oh, right. But this is electricity from the lightning gun, isn’t it? Or did Dragon independently electrify her mech’s limbs?

But yeah, if it’s from the lightning gun, we can’t assume it’ll follow normal electricity rules entirely.

I could feel the faint tendrils of electricity snake over the surface of my body, though I only stepped on the metal foot once.

…and there’s one spot on the body that isn’t insulated. Shit.

I couldn’t tell if the source of the electricity was the gun Tattletale had rigged and thrown – Dragon’s tail was close enough to it for the electricity to flow to her – or if it was from Dragon’s body itself.

Who knows.

Though the footing was unsteady, I was careful not to touch the metal leg with my upper body, and even turned my head away, risking throwing myself off balance, so my hair wouldn’t make contact with it.

Right, two places that aren’t insulated. I was thinking of the divide between the mask and the rest of the outfit, forgetting about the hair hole as usual.

As I understood it, the biggest danger the electricity posed was that my body would become part of a circuit.

Ah, yeah, it won’t flow through you if it can’t flow back to where it started through you.

If the circuit included vital organs, I’d be a goner, and that kind of closed circuit could happen if the electricity could run from my hand and through my heart on the way to my foot.

Yeah.

“Go!” Tattletale shouted, setting her feet below her, then leaping between the twin streams of foam that Dragon turned toward us.  She came only an inch shy of making contact with the heap of foam that Dragon had created.

Niice.

Dragon heaved herself over and beyond the electrical surge the gun was still pumping out, chasing Tattletale, swiping with one mechanical claw.  I got the sense she was pulling her punches to avoid murdering my teammate, because the attack was slow.

Oh yeah, might wanna avoid hitting too hard.

Tattletale slipped past, stepping onto the bookshelf to clear the window.  Or maybe it had something to do with the bugs I had gathered on her sensors.

Eyyy, here we go.

With Tattletale’s escape, Bitch, Imp, Regent, and I were left in the gift shop.  Dragon’s lunge for Tattletale had put her directly in our path to the window, and an uneven pile of containment foam surrounded her, in the middle of the room.

Hrm.

Regent and Imp made a break for it.  Imp ducked around to the left, coming within a hair of being caught by the spray Dragon turned her way, then used the cover of the bookshelves to stay out of the line of fire as she ran for the window.  Dragon half-turned away from the rest of us in pursuit.

Regent moved as if he were going to try to move beneath Dragon using the distraction Imp had provided, clearly intending to step on her metal foot.

Neat! But what would stepping on her foot accomplish? I highly doubt she designed this mech to transfer toe pain to her real body.

He changed his mind when a crackle of visible electricity flashed down the mechanical limb.

I suppose it was just one available foothold on the way. But apparently it’s not as available as he thought.

He turned a hard right, picking up a piece of bookshelf, and used the wood to block the majority of the spray as he passed beneath one of the stray streams.  From there, much as Imp had, he had a clear route.

Excellent.

That leaves Skitter and Bitch. Maybe the two of you could ride Bentley past Dragon? Though that makes you a large target.

The whine of Tattletale’s gun reached a crescendo, and a blindingly bright arc of electricity flew from the side of the barrel to skip along the floor.

That doesn’t look like something the gun’s supposed to do.

I worried it would ignite something, but it winked out before it could.

Ah, good.

Tattletale lunged for the shelf next to the magazines, grabbing a head-and-torso model of Miss Militia.  She jammed it in between the trigger and the trigger guard of her gun, forcing the trigger into a depressed position.

Aw, poor trigger. Kid Win, you need to get your gun some therapy.

But, uh, is this actually a good idea to do? It seems the gun is overexerted already, I’m not sure you should be pushing it much more. You already got the metal bars down, did you not?

Then she lobbed the setup over the back of the shattered bookshelf.  The lightning licked the wall and the ceiling before the gun crashed to the floor.  Dragon lurched back to get away from it.

…ah, fair enough. That works!

The shop had everything cape related, from movies showcasing individual members of the teams to books, magazines, figurines, toys and posters.  The layout of the shop made it awkward as a battlefield.  The shelves, racks, stands and display cases forced visitors into a winding path as they navigated the shop.

Right, the winding path shop trick, getting visitors to pass by just about everything they might want to buy, at the expense of visitor convenience.

The window looking out on the street was smaller than the display windows, and was covered by metal bars.  Tattletale began unloading the lightning cannon on the bars.

Nice.

Though are you sure you want to heat up metal you’re going to have to climb through/past?

Dragon lunged out of the darkness, then spotted us, her shoulder turrets orienting in our direction.

Shit, hi.

We ducked behind a heavy wooden magazine stand filled with cape magazines and tourism pamphlets as Dragon opened fire with two streams of containment foam.

Why do I have a feeling this is going to cover the window?

They still faced the hurdle of passing by Weld, but a blast of darkness and an abrupt change of direction faked out the young hero, letting Grue slip by.

Nice.

“Dragon’s here!?” he shouted, aghast.

Yeeah, things kinda went to shit a bit, though if you can get away, the mission’s accomplished.

“Yeah!  But we got the stuff, had to wait for you!”

“Go through the gift shop, We’ll meet you outside!”  He charged right behind the spot where Dragon was still within the cloud of darkness, and out the front door.

Huh, I guess finding a way out wasn’t as difficult as I thought.

Shadow Stalker simply passed through Weld and bolted for the door, running faster than the Ward’s leader could, while the smallest dogs stayed just out of his reach, bolting after Grue.

Niice.

Bentley, the only dog currently under the effects of Bitch’s power,

Ah, wasn’t Angelica, never mind.

a little beaten and battered, came running towards us, far, far too eager for something that large and strong.

Heh. It’s like a car trying to come and lick you in the face.

Bitch grabbed his collar before he could leap up to greet her, redirected his momentum, then wrenched him toward the window.  “Go!” she shouted, pointing.

Whooo, time to make a cool exit!

Bentley eagerly plowed through the remaining display window, knocking over DVD racks as he landed in the shop.  We followed him in.

Well, entry, depending how you look at it.

More of my bugs set sticky pieces of glass down on top of lenses and sensors.  That was apparently enough for Dragon, because she stopped spraying the foam altogether and started using the two turrets that weren’t dedicated to fire management to deploying the same vapor that shrouded her legs.

Huh. What is she trying to do, fill the whole room with vapor so it reaches up to her sensors?

It surrounded her, and the work I’d done to stick things to her began to come apart as the foam turned runny.

I guess it spreads upwards enough that that wasn’t necessary. It slipped my mind how low this thing is to the ground, for that matter.

A wave of darkness swept over her.  Grue was awake, and had formed a loose group with Shadow Stalker and the dogs.

Eyy! Good to see ya, man. Now let’s find a way to get the hell outta here before the Protectorate arrives.

All but one of the dogs were normal sized, now, with no sign or trace of their mutations.

The one left would be Angelica, right? If I recall correctly, she was bigger than the others, since she’s well trained enough that Bitch could trust her with that.

“I could’ve figured something out,” Imp pouted.

Tattletale didn’t have a response to that.  Instead, she hauled her gun up and then fired a short burst at Weld.

Fair enough, I guess.

Also, seems Tattle’s gun is still functional. Nice.

He backed up into the wall of flame, oddly enough, and Tattletale stopped firing.

What? Why?

Two of Dragon’s shoulder turrets were now being set to the task of controlling the flame and keeping it from spreading across the lobby, to the front desk or up to the ceiling.   Twin jets of chemical spray kept the fire limited to the areas Dragon wanted it.

It’s pretty clear at this point that Dragon is in control of the battlefield.

“Doesn’t she care about property damage?” I asked.

Eh, the PRT can fix it easily enough, I suppose.

“She prefers to keep her data secure and pay out of her own pocket for any damage.  

Heh. Do not fuck with a sysadmin.

Betting this place is slated for some major renovations anyways, given the state of things,” Tattletale explained.  The foam was inching closer to us as Dragon prowled further into the lobby.

If it wasn’t before, it certainly needs to be now.