“I’m surprised there’s no objections about me attacking your partner,”  I told Biter.

“Your house, your rules, you said.”

Yeah, no, Biter isn’t the oaf Taylor initially thought he might be. He actually seems like a very reasonable and level-headed man.

“What do you do?  No demonstrations, please.”

Heh. Playing it safe this time.

I would guess that Biter’s bite is worse than his bark.

“I make parts of myself bigger.”  He pointed to his mouth, then to the fist with the spike-studded knuckle-duster.

Ooh, that’s pretty cool.

(Yet Barker is the one with eyes that look big for his face.)

“Open wide, swing with bigger hands.”

Nothing that would have been that great against the Nine.  I couldn’t blame Bitch for leaving them behind.

I suppose that’s fair. Kind of depends on the maximum sizes, though.

“Fair enough.”  I addressed the two unpowered individuals from Bitch’s group.  “And you two?  Why were you picked for her team?”

“I was just starting my first year as a vet before everything went to hell,” the girl said.  “Needed money to pay my boyfriend’s hospital bill, was offered more than enough.

“Woah, I didn’t ask for your whole backstory.”

He got better a week ago, then broke up with me.  Not even a thank you.

What a dick.

Guess I’m still here because I don’t have anywhere else to go, and I like taking care of the dogs.”

That is a very valid reason.

“That’s the sort of thing you have to watch out for,” I told him, as he fell to the ground, writhing and coughing, tears welling in his eyes.  I kept my voice level.  “You’re in my house, my territory, and you fuck with me?  That’s the sort of thing that would get you in your boss’s bad books if you did it to her.”

Ahh. Setting an example. Fair enough.

“He has,” the boy with the scars on his face spoke.

Barker only gagged in response.

Yeeah, you screwed up by doing that to Rachel. No wonder she doesn’t cut you slack.

“Guess that’s why he deserves shit duty,” I commented.  I leaned against the wall, folding my arms, my telescoped baton still in one hand.

Bitch had chosen that moment to return.  She stared at the scene.

Oh, wonderful.

Hey, at least she didn’t arrive just a moment earlier, when Taylor was right in the middle of attacking one of her minions. Right now still looks bad, though.

Me standing idly by as Barker was curled up on the floor, wheezing and making pathetic noises, a few stray bugs crawling across his face.

She looked at me, glaring.

I don’t think you quite thought this one through, Taylor.

“He started it, I finished it,” I told her.

She looked at Biter, who shrugged and nodded agreement with my statement.  Bitch seemed to accept that as answer enough.  She picked up his chair, moved it a few feet so it wouldn’t be in Barker’s way as he kicked and spasmed, and sat down.

Fair enough.

Though I still say Taylor started it. What Barker did was a harmless prank and in return she went into full “eat bugs, asshole” mode.

I sighed a little, watching as Barker looked to the others, then over at Charlotte, as if they’d be joining him in his amusement.  None did.

“Oh come on, guys! That was funny!”

Biter earned a brownie point in my book by staying quiet and simply watching.

I caught my baton from behind my back and swung it underhand, still folded up, into Barker’s chin.

Taylor, please. You asked. He demonstrated. He even had the courtesy to ask if you wanted a demonstration first.

His teeth clacked shut with percussive force, and I stepped closer to push at his upper body while hooking at the chair leg with my foot to pull it in my direction.  He toppled backwards, his head hitting the wall behind him.

Taylor, you’re being a spoilsport.

I suppose it’s not unreasonable that this could be part of his power. Making people agitated at his taunts.

Kind of unfortunate when you’re not a Brute.

I didn’t have a full measure of his ability, but I did know his mouth was his weapon.  It made me look weaker, but I stepped back so his legs and the chair seat gave me cover in the event that he decided to attack me.

If he does, it’s your own damn fault, unless his power does mess with your head.

“Adapt,” I told him.  “That’s all I can say.  If you’ve proven yourself reliable, showed that you’re willing to clean up after the dogs and take care of them without complaining, she’ll test you in other ways.  That’ll be your chance to prove you’re useful.”

He sneered, looking at the girl and the boy with the scars on his face.  “She’s cutting them more slack than she’s cutting Biter and me.  We shouldn’t have to prove anything.”

Maybe that’s why. Maybe she feels threatened by the fact that you have powers?

“What do you do?  Your powers.”

He looked up at me.  “You want to see?”

Yes please.

Gas dogs? Nightmare miasma (the nightmares’ bark is worse than their bite, but they bark pretty damn hard)? Maybe he has to shout (”bark”) to get the full effect of the smoke out of his throat, whatever it may be.

Which left me to deal with her people in the meantime.

That doesn’t make it sound pleasant.

Barker and Biter gave me something of a George and Lennie vibe, with the smaller guy as the brains of the outfit, the larger one as the big oaf.

I can’t say I’m familiar with the specific reference, but it’s a common trope.

While I didn’t have any major clues to Barker’s powers, Biter was clearly a physical powerhouse.  He stood over six feet in height with a severe underbite exaggerated by a metal bear-trap style band of metal around his lower jaw.

Pretty fitting. So does he have any powers related to biting?

His teeth, I saw, were filed into points.  His costume featured spiked knuckle-dusters and a number of leather straps and belts over his clothes.  Each length of leather was studded with sharp spikes.

Are you sure the teeth are filed into points? Maybe that’s part of his power.

Barker was an inch or two shorter than me, his hair and beard cut short enough that there was more skin than hair showing.  His eyes seemed overly large for his face, with heavy lids and folds around them that made him look older than he probably was.

So I was going to suggest dog breeds for the two of them, but it seems like Biter’s characteristic underbite is most common in small dogs like bulldogs, and Barker’s folds seem reminiscent of some big dogs like mastiffs. Bulldogs actually combine the two, being wrinkled and underbitten.

His ‘costume’ consisted of a black sleeveless t-shirt, jeans and tattooing around his mouth.  I’d seen him in something more conventional when Coil had introduced him to us, but now the only sign of his parahuman nature was the faint smoke that curled out of his mouth.

That’s just because of the jalapeños he ate earlier today.

Just going by his lack of bulk and short stature, I thought I might be able to take him in a no-powers fist fight.

Let’s keep in mind that he works for Coil. It’s very possible he’s had training with the Coildiers. Though brute strength does matter in such fights.