- Location
- Phoenix, AZ
They don't know about the dimensional time machine, they do know about a potential counter to grey boy bubbles.
Boom (Worm, Minor AU)
- Thread starter RavensDagger
- Start date
- Alt. History Superhero
They don't know about the dimensional time machine, they do know about a potential counter to grey boy bubbles.
- Location
- The United States
- Pronouns
- He/They
Mostly "Oh, I guess I was wrong" until she see's the first zergling then it's 100% "KILL IT WITH
- Location
- Amongst the ashes.
Considering what I understand is that she essentially has Bakuda's power (one-use items/explosives), I think it disrupted the field, since I think the device that created the field would already have been used up, leaving nothing to turn off? But that's just what feels most right to me.
Bang 1.5
RavensDagger
Officially Infracted Speceist since 2019!
- Location
- Someplace Cold, Canada
Chapter Five
It took Taylor a while to calm down from the excitement of that afternoon, but a few minutes sitting at the kitchen table, pushing a bit of lasagna across her plate while her dad zoned out across from her worked its magic to calm her down.
It was nice, it was normal, it was safe. A routine ingrained into her very soul. Soon her dad would get up and rinse the dishes before going to watch TV, she'd do the dishes and put away the leftovers and would head off to her room to do her homework.
Nice and simple.
Someone knocked at the door.
Her dad was still at the counter, soapy water up to his elbows. "Want to go see who that is, sweetheart?"
"Sure." She dropped her fork and stood up in answer. The front door had a nice frosted glass window on it, through which she could only barely see the blurry outline of a tall-ish person standing outside. Her bugs on the other side only told her that the person was female with long curly hair. She undid the lock and swung the door opened.
"Hey."
The door slammed shut. Taylor stared blankly ahead of her, heart pounding at a million miles an hour while her breathing came in short, desperate gasps.
The door opened up again, slowly, like something out of a B-rated horror movie, only so much worse because it was happening for real and Taylor started to back away, shaking her head as if she could deny the mad Tinker away.
"I don't remember being so rude," the Tinker said as she stepped into Taylor's home. She eyed Taylor up and down with the kind of dispassionate look reserved for doctors looking at their twentieth patient of the day, then scanned the entrance hallway and the staircase off to one side. "Bit different, but not much," she muttered before zeroing in on Taylor again.
"What are you doing here?" Taylor asked, her voice sounding surprisingly dark even to her. "This is against the unwritten rules."
The Tinker looked at her with one eyebrow perked, then rolled her eyes. "Yeah, we need to talk, brat."
"What?" she hissed.
"You," she said, pointing at Taylor's chest. "And I," she pointed at herself. "Need to talk." Then she made 'talking' gestures with her hands, as if Taylor was a three year old.
"Who is it, kiddo?" can her dad's voice from deeper in the house.
"Oh god, he's still calling you Kiddo. That's... that's really awful." She shook her head then walked right past Taylor and towards the kitchen. "Hey old man," she told her dad.
"Hi," he said from before the sink, his arms still wet all the way up to his elbows. "We were just finishing supper. There's still some left, it's even still warm if you want a bite?"
"Sure, I could use a bite to eat."
Taylor ran past the girl grabbed a knife from off the block next to the sink and spun around to point it at the Tinker.
"Taylor?"
"Dad, get back!" she said.
The Tinker just looked at her, then at the knife held before her as though to ward her off. "That had better to be cut me a slice of cake, or we're going to be having words."
Her dad pushed the knife down, his grip over her wrist hard enough that she would have been hard-pressed to do anything but comply. "Okay, okay, enough of this, what the hell is going on?" he shouted.
The Tinker pulled up a seat, her seat, and flopped down. "You guys had better sit, this one's going to be a little weird."
There was a moment of quiet in the kitchen. Danny because he wasn't sure what to do, Taylor because she was marshalling every bug within two blocks to her home with no regard to stealth and the Tinker because she didn't seem to give a shit about their panic.
"I can explain everything, but it would be far easier for all of us if you were sitting down," she said.
"Is that a threat?" Taylor asked. She had a few flies in the knife rack behind her. She could reach around and grab one without looking and stab her in the chest, the problem was going to be reaching the Tinker before she could do something to stop her. So she had to wait of a distraction.
"No, it's an invitation to sit down and chit chat, to talk, to gab, to flap our face lips and make noise," the Tinker said.
"I, I thought you were one of Taylor's school friends," Danny said.
"What? No, I'm like, four years older than her. Anyway, I hardly had any friends in high school, I can't imagine this version of me having that many more. I mean look at her, she looks like a frog on stilts."
Maybe instead of the chest she could start with the arms, Taylor decided, it would hurt more.
The Tinker looked between the two of them and then sighed. "Fine, be that way," she muttered. "Okay, dad, you know how Taylor here is a parahuman?" she asked.
"What?" her dad asked.
Taylor felt the blood draining from her face. "What?" she repeated. The old mantra of 'deny deny deny' ran through her like a siren.
"Oh, wow, you didn't even tell him?" the Tinker asked. "Good job. Daughter of the year."
"Taylor, is it true?" the hurt and confusion in his voice pulled at her heart and she thought she was going to be sick for a moment.
"N-never mind that, do you know who she is?" she said, pointing a finger at the Tinker.
"That's why I'm here, actually," the Tinker quipped.
"Okay, stop!" Her dad said and both girls flinched. He walked over to the far end of the table, pulled his chair back and sat down. Then he gestured at the one other free seat. "Taylor sit."
"But dad."
"Sit," he repeated. She sat. "We can deal with what you did or didn't tell me later," he said before turning to the Tinker. "I thought you were one of my daughter's friends. It's pretty obvious that you're not. So who are you?"
"I'm Taylor Anne Hebert, born June 1995, Im' twenty if you go by my biological age. Oh, and I'm a time traveller."
Taylor didn't know what her reaction was supposed to be to that particular bit of news. Fortunately, her father did that for her. "What?"
"So," the supposedly time-travelling Taylor turned towards Taylor. "What's your power?"
"I don't have one," she said.
"Bullshit. I know what I look like when I'm lying."
Taylor's mouth opened, then closed like a fish that had been plugged to a car battery and was flopping around in its death throes.
"I, I don't believe you," Danny said.
Taylor, the older Taylor, rolled her eyes and stared at their dad. "It's always like this," she said before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a marble-sized device.
Taylor was out of her seat and reaching for the knives in the time it took for the Tinker to activate it and hold it out in a closed fist towards Danny. "What?" he asked.
"Take it," she said.
Taylor paused by the knife block, not sure of what to do for a moment. Then the device fell into her dad's hand, squealed a little like a cat who had just been stepped on, and let out a puff of smoke.
Danny rose up, looked around the room with glazed eyes, then shuffled off to the living room.
"What did you do?" Taylor asked, voice tinged with horror.
"It's an anti-dad bomb. It makes him forget the last few minutes and want to mind his own business for a few hours. Probably my single greatest invention, actually. You wouldn't believe how many times he'd walk into my room when I was with Amelia and just start freaking out about my tastes in music and clothes and the fact that I was naked with a girl in my bed. Really handy. If you're nice I'll leave you a handful." She leaned back and placed her booted feet on the table. "How can I prove it to you?" she asked.
"What?" Taylor had the impression that 'what' was becoming her default sentence.
"How can I prove to you, beyond a reasonable doubt, that I am who I say I am?" she asked. "I mean, beyond the fact that I look like an older, fitter, better dressed version of you."
"Better dressed?" Taylor asked. She wasn't an expert on fashion, but the other girl was wearing black... everything to go with her dark makeup, and there were a lot of spikes on her clothes. Also, she was wearing a mesh shirt. Taylor could see her bra. It was so far beyond the kind of thing Taylor would wear that it might as well have come from another planet.
"At least I don't dress like a hibernating fucking bear. What, couldn't find anything in size 'frog?'"
Taylor glared. It didn't do much. "Fine, pretend I believe you. Why are you here. How are you here?"
"The how is easy. I'm a Tinker. I do what I want. The why is... complicated," she admitted.
"Why don't you illuminate me?"
The older girl, and Taylor was beginning to suspect that it wasn't a nightmare, that she really was an older version of herself that had possibly fallen on her head at some point, shrugged one shoulder. "Fine. Me and Amelia, that's my wife, fought an endbringer. You've got those around here, right? This dimension's a little weird."
Taylor nodded numbly.
"Right, so we kinda lost. Which, let me tell you, I do not appreciate. So I said, 'hey, let's travel back to before the winged bitch shows up and murder the ever loving hell out of it' and Amelia, being the sweetheart that she is, agreed. Now we're here." Taylor didn't know where to start and something in the amusement on her older self's face hinted that she could tell. "Do you need a minute?"
She moved her boots off the table and stood up. "Where are you going?"
"First, to the bathroom. There's no place like home for that kind of business. Then I'm heading off to find Amelia. As much as I'd love to stay the night here, I give it even odds that you'll try to murder me in my sleep."
"Why would I do that?" Taylor asked.
"Well, it's what I would do, and in this case that kinda applies more than usual, you know. Then again, you're a bit more tame than I was at your age... you're not a Tinker, right?"
"No? I mean, yes, I'm not a Tinker," Taylor said.
"Didn't think so. We've still got a microwave. I made my first nuke with ours. Anywho, see you around, younger me. I'll stop by in the morning with Amelia, you can talk to her for a bit. She's better at the whole social thing than I am."
Taylor watched her older self walk out of the kitchen as if she owned the place. "Oh god."
***
This is, by and large, as much Danny as you'll ever see in this story. He's such a boring character.
Big thank you to ChaoticSky for the help, and all the fine folks my Discord who popped over to help with this mess.
It took Taylor a while to calm down from the excitement of that afternoon, but a few minutes sitting at the kitchen table, pushing a bit of lasagna across her plate while her dad zoned out across from her worked its magic to calm her down.
It was nice, it was normal, it was safe. A routine ingrained into her very soul. Soon her dad would get up and rinse the dishes before going to watch TV, she'd do the dishes and put away the leftovers and would head off to her room to do her homework.
Nice and simple.
Someone knocked at the door.
Her dad was still at the counter, soapy water up to his elbows. "Want to go see who that is, sweetheart?"
"Sure." She dropped her fork and stood up in answer. The front door had a nice frosted glass window on it, through which she could only barely see the blurry outline of a tall-ish person standing outside. Her bugs on the other side only told her that the person was female with long curly hair. She undid the lock and swung the door opened.
"Hey."
The door slammed shut. Taylor stared blankly ahead of her, heart pounding at a million miles an hour while her breathing came in short, desperate gasps.
The door opened up again, slowly, like something out of a B-rated horror movie, only so much worse because it was happening for real and Taylor started to back away, shaking her head as if she could deny the mad Tinker away.
"I don't remember being so rude," the Tinker said as she stepped into Taylor's home. She eyed Taylor up and down with the kind of dispassionate look reserved for doctors looking at their twentieth patient of the day, then scanned the entrance hallway and the staircase off to one side. "Bit different, but not much," she muttered before zeroing in on Taylor again.
"What are you doing here?" Taylor asked, her voice sounding surprisingly dark even to her. "This is against the unwritten rules."
The Tinker looked at her with one eyebrow perked, then rolled her eyes. "Yeah, we need to talk, brat."
"What?" she hissed.
"You," she said, pointing at Taylor's chest. "And I," she pointed at herself. "Need to talk." Then she made 'talking' gestures with her hands, as if Taylor was a three year old.
"Who is it, kiddo?" can her dad's voice from deeper in the house.
"Oh god, he's still calling you Kiddo. That's... that's really awful." She shook her head then walked right past Taylor and towards the kitchen. "Hey old man," she told her dad.
"Hi," he said from before the sink, his arms still wet all the way up to his elbows. "We were just finishing supper. There's still some left, it's even still warm if you want a bite?"
"Sure, I could use a bite to eat."
Taylor ran past the girl grabbed a knife from off the block next to the sink and spun around to point it at the Tinker.
"Taylor?"
"Dad, get back!" she said.
The Tinker just looked at her, then at the knife held before her as though to ward her off. "That had better to be cut me a slice of cake, or we're going to be having words."
Her dad pushed the knife down, his grip over her wrist hard enough that she would have been hard-pressed to do anything but comply. "Okay, okay, enough of this, what the hell is going on?" he shouted.
The Tinker pulled up a seat, her seat, and flopped down. "You guys had better sit, this one's going to be a little weird."
There was a moment of quiet in the kitchen. Danny because he wasn't sure what to do, Taylor because she was marshalling every bug within two blocks to her home with no regard to stealth and the Tinker because she didn't seem to give a shit about their panic.
"I can explain everything, but it would be far easier for all of us if you were sitting down," she said.
"Is that a threat?" Taylor asked. She had a few flies in the knife rack behind her. She could reach around and grab one without looking and stab her in the chest, the problem was going to be reaching the Tinker before she could do something to stop her. So she had to wait of a distraction.
"No, it's an invitation to sit down and chit chat, to talk, to gab, to flap our face lips and make noise," the Tinker said.
"I, I thought you were one of Taylor's school friends," Danny said.
"What? No, I'm like, four years older than her. Anyway, I hardly had any friends in high school, I can't imagine this version of me having that many more. I mean look at her, she looks like a frog on stilts."
Maybe instead of the chest she could start with the arms, Taylor decided, it would hurt more.
The Tinker looked between the two of them and then sighed. "Fine, be that way," she muttered. "Okay, dad, you know how Taylor here is a parahuman?" she asked.
"What?" her dad asked.
Taylor felt the blood draining from her face. "What?" she repeated. The old mantra of 'deny deny deny' ran through her like a siren.
"Oh, wow, you didn't even tell him?" the Tinker asked. "Good job. Daughter of the year."
"Taylor, is it true?" the hurt and confusion in his voice pulled at her heart and she thought she was going to be sick for a moment.
"N-never mind that, do you know who she is?" she said, pointing a finger at the Tinker.
"That's why I'm here, actually," the Tinker quipped.
"Okay, stop!" Her dad said and both girls flinched. He walked over to the far end of the table, pulled his chair back and sat down. Then he gestured at the one other free seat. "Taylor sit."
"But dad."
"Sit," he repeated. She sat. "We can deal with what you did or didn't tell me later," he said before turning to the Tinker. "I thought you were one of my daughter's friends. It's pretty obvious that you're not. So who are you?"
"I'm Taylor Anne Hebert, born June 1995, Im' twenty if you go by my biological age. Oh, and I'm a time traveller."
Taylor didn't know what her reaction was supposed to be to that particular bit of news. Fortunately, her father did that for her. "What?"
"So," the supposedly time-travelling Taylor turned towards Taylor. "What's your power?"
"I don't have one," she said.
"Bullshit. I know what I look like when I'm lying."
Taylor's mouth opened, then closed like a fish that had been plugged to a car battery and was flopping around in its death throes.
"I, I don't believe you," Danny said.
Taylor, the older Taylor, rolled her eyes and stared at their dad. "It's always like this," she said before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a marble-sized device.
Taylor was out of her seat and reaching for the knives in the time it took for the Tinker to activate it and hold it out in a closed fist towards Danny. "What?" he asked.
"Take it," she said.
Taylor paused by the knife block, not sure of what to do for a moment. Then the device fell into her dad's hand, squealed a little like a cat who had just been stepped on, and let out a puff of smoke.
Danny rose up, looked around the room with glazed eyes, then shuffled off to the living room.
"What did you do?" Taylor asked, voice tinged with horror.
"It's an anti-dad bomb. It makes him forget the last few minutes and want to mind his own business for a few hours. Probably my single greatest invention, actually. You wouldn't believe how many times he'd walk into my room when I was with Amelia and just start freaking out about my tastes in music and clothes and the fact that I was naked with a girl in my bed. Really handy. If you're nice I'll leave you a handful." She leaned back and placed her booted feet on the table. "How can I prove it to you?" she asked.
"What?" Taylor had the impression that 'what' was becoming her default sentence.
"How can I prove to you, beyond a reasonable doubt, that I am who I say I am?" she asked. "I mean, beyond the fact that I look like an older, fitter, better dressed version of you."
"Better dressed?" Taylor asked. She wasn't an expert on fashion, but the other girl was wearing black... everything to go with her dark makeup, and there were a lot of spikes on her clothes. Also, she was wearing a mesh shirt. Taylor could see her bra. It was so far beyond the kind of thing Taylor would wear that it might as well have come from another planet.
"At least I don't dress like a hibernating fucking bear. What, couldn't find anything in size 'frog?'"
Taylor glared. It didn't do much. "Fine, pretend I believe you. Why are you here. How are you here?"
"The how is easy. I'm a Tinker. I do what I want. The why is... complicated," she admitted.
"Why don't you illuminate me?"
The older girl, and Taylor was beginning to suspect that it wasn't a nightmare, that she really was an older version of herself that had possibly fallen on her head at some point, shrugged one shoulder. "Fine. Me and Amelia, that's my wife, fought an endbringer. You've got those around here, right? This dimension's a little weird."
Taylor nodded numbly.
"Right, so we kinda lost. Which, let me tell you, I do not appreciate. So I said, 'hey, let's travel back to before the winged bitch shows up and murder the ever loving hell out of it' and Amelia, being the sweetheart that she is, agreed. Now we're here." Taylor didn't know where to start and something in the amusement on her older self's face hinted that she could tell. "Do you need a minute?"
She moved her boots off the table and stood up. "Where are you going?"
"First, to the bathroom. There's no place like home for that kind of business. Then I'm heading off to find Amelia. As much as I'd love to stay the night here, I give it even odds that you'll try to murder me in my sleep."
"Why would I do that?" Taylor asked.
"Well, it's what I would do, and in this case that kinda applies more than usual, you know. Then again, you're a bit more tame than I was at your age... you're not a Tinker, right?"
"No? I mean, yes, I'm not a Tinker," Taylor said.
"Didn't think so. We've still got a microwave. I made my first nuke with ours. Anywho, see you around, younger me. I'll stop by in the morning with Amelia, you can talk to her for a bit. She's better at the whole social thing than I am."
Taylor watched her older self walk out of the kitchen as if she owned the place. "Oh god."
***
This is, by and large, as much Danny as you'll ever see in this story. He's such a boring character.
Big thank you to ChaoticSky for the help, and all the fine folks my Discord who popped over to help with this mess.
We Just Write
Blatantly Plural
- Location
- New England
- Pronouns
- Plural
Danny is exactly as boring as the author makes him. If he's given a solid push to really get going, you can get truly awesome versions of the man.
GamingPizza1998
(Verified Pizza) (Verified Cape) (Verified Case53)
- Location
- Earth
And versions you really really want to hit with Antimatter Bomb
- Location
- Chile
That seems to be a contradiction.
If they are actually married I demand Amelia to show off her wedding photos to Amy and NotGoth!Taylor.
OverReactionGuy
Verified Sanity
Depends if you want to gut his character or not really.
9 times out of 10 Danny is in name only without explanation of his changes or they just kill him off.
RavensDagger
Officially Infracted Speceist since 2019!
- Location
- Someplace Cold, Canada
He's a responsible adult with adult fears in a setting where neither of those things are praised. In most stories, where he interacts with Taylor, he wants to do the responsible, sensible thing and keep her away from danger. That's a perfectly valid and logical thing to do. It also really screws up the narrative when the Main Character is being forced to stop acting like a teenager.
So, more often then not, he acts as a sort of foil to whatever Taylor wants to do in any given story, and not the kind of foil that Taylor can punch out or fight against without looking like a complete ass. In a more meta viewpoint, you could call him a sort of anti-conflict.
He's not hard to write, he's hard to write around.
Tisaku
Head Chief Thinkomancer
Timerider
That guy who really should get out more.
- Location
- The End of the World.
Fredo
Climbing Mt Doom
The version of him in Progenitor is awesome.
- Location
- Russia
But what about those teenagers who are instead stuck under their moms? 
- Location
- Germany
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Holy shit, this easily takes the top spot of favorite new story ideas I've seen in recent history.
It's just such a cool premise because this entire situation is super hilarious even when the story isn't even trying to be funny. And Amelia and capital T Taylor are just the best. I'm eagerly awaiting more of this.
On a side note, shit is absolutely going to hit the fan once Bakuda realizes that Taylore out-Bakuda'd Bakuda, isn't it?
It's just such a cool premise because this entire situation is super hilarious even when the story isn't even trying to be funny. And Amelia and capital T Taylor are just the best. I'm eagerly awaiting more of this.
On a side note, shit is absolutely going to hit the fan once Bakuda realizes that Taylore out-Bakuda'd Bakuda, isn't it?
Zealot_of_Runes
[Verified Ziz-Bomb]
- Location
- New Hampshire, USA
I absolutely love everything about this, although I admit I wasn't picture goth!Tay in a mesh shirt, I was thinking more black band-tee or something, maybe some ripped jeans... Am I thinking more punk than goth? Either way, I love the characters meeting their younger selves and just turning everyone's thought topsy turvey, it's some lovely comedy and I want more of it.
Bang 1.6
RavensDagger
Officially Infracted Speceist since 2019!
- Location
- Someplace Cold, Canada
Chapter Six
"Everything is so weird," Amelia said as she skipped ahead.
Taylor made a noncommittal sound, her attention going from the quiet street to the way Amelia's skirt rode up her thigh with every bounce. "Yeah."
"Like, little me doesn't have the same power. It's super obvious. And she has a sister. A sister. Do you know how weird that is? I guess dad must have remarried at some point."
"That blonde girl, right?" Taylor asked.
"That's the one. Vicky. She's kinda cute."
Taylor tore her attention away from Amelia's legs and walked just a little faster. "Oh?" she asked.
"Oh yeah. Total bombshell. Like, if I had a thing for cheerleaders..." Amelia let out a low whistle. She never noticed the narrowing of Taylor's eyes. "But anyway. I was thinking about what you said, about your favourite toys not being illegal yet. Does that mean we're not married anymore?"
Taylor's mind did a good imitation of a child watching, in excruciatingly slow detail, as its candy was stolen. "We'll just have to remarry," she said.
"Wow. You didn't even get on your knees," Amelia said without disguising her humour.
"You do like it when I'm on my knees," Taylor replied glibly.
Amelia tucked herself up against Taylor's side. "And don't you forget it," she said. "Speaking of, Amy is in desperate need of some happy time."
Had Taylor been anyone else, had she not had the years of experience dealing with her wife that she had, them the constant changes of subject would have caught her off guard. As it was she just rolled with the punches. "Are you speaking in third person? Should I be worried?"
"I meant younger me. She goes by Amy. And it makes it easier to tell us apart. Oh, we should call you Anne, to tell you apart from your younger self."
Taylor grimaced. "No thanks. We can call the younger me Anne. I had Taylor first." She sighed. "My younger self is a self-righteous little shit that looks like she could justify killing babies to herself. I'm pretty sure she's moonlighting as a supervillain."
Amelia blinked and looked up to Taylor. "So, she's the same as you?"
"Pretty much, she's just not as good at it." She looked down at he Amy-Finder that was tucked into one pocket, then back up and pointed off to their left. "We're here."
A house stood before them, a little two storey building, a garage built into its side and a balcony out front lined by a few wooden columns. The walls were white vinyl under a green tin roof. A white picket fence ran around the lot, hiding a garden that had seen better days and was due for a Springtime cleanup. Right next to them sat a bright red mailbox and a cobblestone walkway leading to the front door. The name Dallon was painted on the mailbox's side.
It looked, in short, as though someone had Google'd 'Stereotypical American Home' then built a home based on the first image to come up.
"Wow," Amelia said.
"Yeah," Taylor said, and she couldn't disguise her mild disgust. "You first."
***
"Amy!" Carol's strident voice was like a train whistle going off in someone's ear. High-pitched, loud, and impossible to ignore.
She had been resting in her room, sitting across from Vicky while the two of them talked about the rather strange girl they had met today. She had decided that the entire thing had been some sort of Stranger effect, or maybe an illusion or hallucination.
Maybe Vicky was right, she needed a break.
"Amy, you have... a guest!" Carol shouted.
The sister's eyes met. "Do you think it's," Amy began. She didn't need to finish.
"Maybe?" Vicky didn't look so sure.
"Oh god, what should I do?" She got to her feet and started moving towards the door, then turned around and walked deeper into her room. Maybe she could pretend that she lived elsewhere?
"Think of it as an opportunity?" Vicky tried. "I mean, I'd love to meet future me. Imaging all the things you could learn about yourself? It's a really cool opportunity."
"She had babies," Amy said. She was unable to put the exact amount of horror that statement deserved into her tone, but she tried her damndest.
Vicky cringed. Neither of them were anywhere near ready for that kind of thing, Amy less than most because of her... condition. Not that either of them had touched that particular subject yet. As far as Amy was concerned they could both pretend that her older self hadn't torn the closet door wide open.
"Amy!" This time Carol's call had a hint of warning in it.
"Coming!" she called before she firmed her resolve, tore her room's door open, and walked out. She heard Vicky shuffle out to follow her, probably to provide emotional support because Vicky was the best sister ever.
She made it downstairs and into the living room, a pit growing in her stomach as she noticed not one but two familiar faces waiting for her in the living room standing across from Carol and Mark. Only Mark looked at ease, watching the three tense woman from his perch on his lay-z-boy with the same expression Nascar fans had moments before a spectacular crash.
"Hey," she said.
Older Amy turned to her, a huge grin on her features that made her cheeks dimple and her freckles stand out. Next to her, the goth girl, Taylor, just eyed her up and down, then gave Vicky a suspicious look. They were both taking up part of the living room couch, Older Amy's hand entwined with Taylor's on her lap.
"Uh, hey," Amy said.
Carol looked between the two of them. "So, who's your friend, Amy?" she asked.
Amy opened her mouth to explain, then shut it with a click.
"I'm Amelia Lavere," Amelia said. Carol twitched, her entire body spinning around to face their guest who just smiled. "I'm Amy, but from the future. Oh, and this is Taylor, my wife."
"Is this some sort of joke?" Carol asked.
"Nope!" Amelia said. She searched the room, then looked at Amy. "So, where's dad?"
"I'm right here?" Mark said with a wave.
Amelia studied him for a second. "Yeah, no, dad was never that hunky."
"I was adopted," Amy said. "Wait, you know my, our dad?"
"Adopted? Why?" Amelia asked. She started at Amy, then shifted her gaze to Carol and Vicky.
Carol raised a hand and everyone quieted up for a moment. Amy recognized the face she was putting on, it was her 'I'm a lawyer and I'm about to bring down the law on you' mask that she took out when things weren't going her way. "Amy, explain."
"Uh," Amy started. "You know the whole thing at the bank today?" she said.
Carol nodded slowly. Amy knew that she'd seen some of what had happened on the news. "You went over the basics. Am I to understand that these two were involved?"
"That's where I met them, yeah," Amy said. She pointed to Taylor who quirked an eyebrow at being singled out. "She's the one that scared off the villains, and, uh, who froze the Wards."
Carol turned her narrow-eyed gaze onto Taylor. "You're wanted for questioning," she said.
Taylor shrugged, incredibly unconcerned. "They can ask whatever they want. For once I didn't do anything wrong. None of the Wards were injured, right?"
"They were a little under the weather," Vicky pointed out. "But they looked better after a bit."
"Good," Taylor said. "Next time they won't charge at me without thinking about it. Little morons."
"Right," Amy said, wanting to take the reins of the conversation back. It was like trying to swerve a car out of the path of a pileup. A pileup on a bridge. At a hundred miles an hour. While on fire. "A-anyway. Amelia explained that she's, well, me. But from the future." She paused, realising that she had pretty much said everything there was to say. Well, except for the gay bits and the babies but there wasn't enough money on Earth to make her go down that path.
Carol pinched the bridge of her nose. "That sounds ludicrous," she said.
"Frankly, we don't care if you think it's ludicrous," Taylor said.
"And what if I decide that you're villains trying to trick Amy and my daughter?" Carol asked.
Taylor looked her up and down. "I'm a bomb Tinker. Unless you're nuke proof your ability to threaten me is pretty inconsequential. As far as I'm concerned you're more trouble because you might hurt Amelia's feelings than because of anything else."
"Are you threatening me in my home?" Carol asked, her voice going cold.
Taylor blinked at her. "What are you, stupid?"
"Taytay," Amelia said with a warning tone. She moved her hand over Taylor's lap and gave the Tinker a warning look. "I'm sorry, Miss Dallon. Taylor can be a little hot blooded sometimes. We had a long day and she's past her bedtime."
"I see," Carol bit off.
"So, you're Amy from what, three, fours years from now?" Mark asked.
"Yup!"
"And you got married?" He asked. "Congratulations!"
"Thank you!" Amelia said with a huge, beaming smile. "We're not sure if it's still legal or not though, what with the papers being filed in the future. But I don't think that matters."
"It really shouldn't," Mark agreed. "Marriage is more than just some papers and rings, it's about wanting to be together."
"Oh god, you're both so sappy," Taylor whined.
"Mark, don't encourage them!" Carol said.
Mark turned to his wife. "Why not? They seem nice."
"I don't know why you were adopted, Amy, but I'm glad it was to such a loving family," Amelia declared.
"Yeah, loving, thanks," Amy said. She flinched back when Carol's ire turned back to her. "So, uh, why are you here?"
"We need a place to stay. We left our house in the future," Amelia said.
Carol crossed her arms. "No."
"You guys can have my room," Vicky said. "I'll crash with Amy for the night, and we can figure something else out for tomorrow."
"I said no," Carol repeated.
Amy was too busy imagining Vicky sleeping in her room, on her bed, next to her, to really care all that much about Carol's opinion. "I-I can get some extra blankets," she said.
"Awesome. And we can talk and stuff tomorrow morning. I wanna know more about you two," Vicky said.
Amelia jumped to her feet, a huge smile on her face. "Brilliant! Hey, do you guys have a turkey, or maybe a chicken, in the freezer?"
"A chicken?" Amy asked.
"Well, anything with biomass. I need to make a little critter to go tell my other critters to bring our stuff over."
"Whoa, wait, your powers aren't the same as Amy's?" Vicky asked.
"Can Amy make an army of self-replicating creatures that are all about as smart as ten-year-olds by turning biomass into big pods?"
"N-no," Amy said. "I can, uh, heal people by touching them."
Older Amy looked at her with something like pity before patting her head. "That's nice too, I guess."
"I said no!" Carol screeched.
***
Poor Carol.
Big thank you to ChaoticSky and Eshwartz for the help, and all the fine folks my Discord who popped over to help with this mess.
"Everything is so weird," Amelia said as she skipped ahead.
Taylor made a noncommittal sound, her attention going from the quiet street to the way Amelia's skirt rode up her thigh with every bounce. "Yeah."
"Like, little me doesn't have the same power. It's super obvious. And she has a sister. A sister. Do you know how weird that is? I guess dad must have remarried at some point."
"That blonde girl, right?" Taylor asked.
"That's the one. Vicky. She's kinda cute."
Taylor tore her attention away from Amelia's legs and walked just a little faster. "Oh?" she asked.
"Oh yeah. Total bombshell. Like, if I had a thing for cheerleaders..." Amelia let out a low whistle. She never noticed the narrowing of Taylor's eyes. "But anyway. I was thinking about what you said, about your favourite toys not being illegal yet. Does that mean we're not married anymore?"
Taylor's mind did a good imitation of a child watching, in excruciatingly slow detail, as its candy was stolen. "We'll just have to remarry," she said.
"Wow. You didn't even get on your knees," Amelia said without disguising her humour.
"You do like it when I'm on my knees," Taylor replied glibly.
Amelia tucked herself up against Taylor's side. "And don't you forget it," she said. "Speaking of, Amy is in desperate need of some happy time."
Had Taylor been anyone else, had she not had the years of experience dealing with her wife that she had, them the constant changes of subject would have caught her off guard. As it was she just rolled with the punches. "Are you speaking in third person? Should I be worried?"
"I meant younger me. She goes by Amy. And it makes it easier to tell us apart. Oh, we should call you Anne, to tell you apart from your younger self."
Taylor grimaced. "No thanks. We can call the younger me Anne. I had Taylor first." She sighed. "My younger self is a self-righteous little shit that looks like she could justify killing babies to herself. I'm pretty sure she's moonlighting as a supervillain."
Amelia blinked and looked up to Taylor. "So, she's the same as you?"
"Pretty much, she's just not as good at it." She looked down at he Amy-Finder that was tucked into one pocket, then back up and pointed off to their left. "We're here."
A house stood before them, a little two storey building, a garage built into its side and a balcony out front lined by a few wooden columns. The walls were white vinyl under a green tin roof. A white picket fence ran around the lot, hiding a garden that had seen better days and was due for a Springtime cleanup. Right next to them sat a bright red mailbox and a cobblestone walkway leading to the front door. The name Dallon was painted on the mailbox's side.
It looked, in short, as though someone had Google'd 'Stereotypical American Home' then built a home based on the first image to come up.
"Wow," Amelia said.
"Yeah," Taylor said, and she couldn't disguise her mild disgust. "You first."
***
"Amy!" Carol's strident voice was like a train whistle going off in someone's ear. High-pitched, loud, and impossible to ignore.
She had been resting in her room, sitting across from Vicky while the two of them talked about the rather strange girl they had met today. She had decided that the entire thing had been some sort of Stranger effect, or maybe an illusion or hallucination.
Maybe Vicky was right, she needed a break.
"Amy, you have... a guest!" Carol shouted.
The sister's eyes met. "Do you think it's," Amy began. She didn't need to finish.
"Maybe?" Vicky didn't look so sure.
"Oh god, what should I do?" She got to her feet and started moving towards the door, then turned around and walked deeper into her room. Maybe she could pretend that she lived elsewhere?
"Think of it as an opportunity?" Vicky tried. "I mean, I'd love to meet future me. Imaging all the things you could learn about yourself? It's a really cool opportunity."
"She had babies," Amy said. She was unable to put the exact amount of horror that statement deserved into her tone, but she tried her damndest.
Vicky cringed. Neither of them were anywhere near ready for that kind of thing, Amy less than most because of her... condition. Not that either of them had touched that particular subject yet. As far as Amy was concerned they could both pretend that her older self hadn't torn the closet door wide open.
"Amy!" This time Carol's call had a hint of warning in it.
"Coming!" she called before she firmed her resolve, tore her room's door open, and walked out. She heard Vicky shuffle out to follow her, probably to provide emotional support because Vicky was the best sister ever.
She made it downstairs and into the living room, a pit growing in her stomach as she noticed not one but two familiar faces waiting for her in the living room standing across from Carol and Mark. Only Mark looked at ease, watching the three tense woman from his perch on his lay-z-boy with the same expression Nascar fans had moments before a spectacular crash.
"Hey," she said.
Older Amy turned to her, a huge grin on her features that made her cheeks dimple and her freckles stand out. Next to her, the goth girl, Taylor, just eyed her up and down, then gave Vicky a suspicious look. They were both taking up part of the living room couch, Older Amy's hand entwined with Taylor's on her lap.
"Uh, hey," Amy said.
Carol looked between the two of them. "So, who's your friend, Amy?" she asked.
Amy opened her mouth to explain, then shut it with a click.
"I'm Amelia Lavere," Amelia said. Carol twitched, her entire body spinning around to face their guest who just smiled. "I'm Amy, but from the future. Oh, and this is Taylor, my wife."
"Is this some sort of joke?" Carol asked.
"Nope!" Amelia said. She searched the room, then looked at Amy. "So, where's dad?"
"I'm right here?" Mark said with a wave.
Amelia studied him for a second. "Yeah, no, dad was never that hunky."
"I was adopted," Amy said. "Wait, you know my, our dad?"
"Adopted? Why?" Amelia asked. She started at Amy, then shifted her gaze to Carol and Vicky.
Carol raised a hand and everyone quieted up for a moment. Amy recognized the face she was putting on, it was her 'I'm a lawyer and I'm about to bring down the law on you' mask that she took out when things weren't going her way. "Amy, explain."
"Uh," Amy started. "You know the whole thing at the bank today?" she said.
Carol nodded slowly. Amy knew that she'd seen some of what had happened on the news. "You went over the basics. Am I to understand that these two were involved?"
"That's where I met them, yeah," Amy said. She pointed to Taylor who quirked an eyebrow at being singled out. "She's the one that scared off the villains, and, uh, who froze the Wards."
Carol turned her narrow-eyed gaze onto Taylor. "You're wanted for questioning," she said.
Taylor shrugged, incredibly unconcerned. "They can ask whatever they want. For once I didn't do anything wrong. None of the Wards were injured, right?"
"They were a little under the weather," Vicky pointed out. "But they looked better after a bit."
"Good," Taylor said. "Next time they won't charge at me without thinking about it. Little morons."
"Right," Amy said, wanting to take the reins of the conversation back. It was like trying to swerve a car out of the path of a pileup. A pileup on a bridge. At a hundred miles an hour. While on fire. "A-anyway. Amelia explained that she's, well, me. But from the future." She paused, realising that she had pretty much said everything there was to say. Well, except for the gay bits and the babies but there wasn't enough money on Earth to make her go down that path.
Carol pinched the bridge of her nose. "That sounds ludicrous," she said.
"Frankly, we don't care if you think it's ludicrous," Taylor said.
"And what if I decide that you're villains trying to trick Amy and my daughter?" Carol asked.
Taylor looked her up and down. "I'm a bomb Tinker. Unless you're nuke proof your ability to threaten me is pretty inconsequential. As far as I'm concerned you're more trouble because you might hurt Amelia's feelings than because of anything else."
"Are you threatening me in my home?" Carol asked, her voice going cold.
Taylor blinked at her. "What are you, stupid?"
"Taytay," Amelia said with a warning tone. She moved her hand over Taylor's lap and gave the Tinker a warning look. "I'm sorry, Miss Dallon. Taylor can be a little hot blooded sometimes. We had a long day and she's past her bedtime."
"I see," Carol bit off.
"So, you're Amy from what, three, fours years from now?" Mark asked.
"Yup!"
"And you got married?" He asked. "Congratulations!"
"Thank you!" Amelia said with a huge, beaming smile. "We're not sure if it's still legal or not though, what with the papers being filed in the future. But I don't think that matters."
"It really shouldn't," Mark agreed. "Marriage is more than just some papers and rings, it's about wanting to be together."
"Oh god, you're both so sappy," Taylor whined.
"Mark, don't encourage them!" Carol said.
Mark turned to his wife. "Why not? They seem nice."
"I don't know why you were adopted, Amy, but I'm glad it was to such a loving family," Amelia declared.
"Yeah, loving, thanks," Amy said. She flinched back when Carol's ire turned back to her. "So, uh, why are you here?"
"We need a place to stay. We left our house in the future," Amelia said.
Carol crossed her arms. "No."
"You guys can have my room," Vicky said. "I'll crash with Amy for the night, and we can figure something else out for tomorrow."
"I said no," Carol repeated.
Amy was too busy imagining Vicky sleeping in her room, on her bed, next to her, to really care all that much about Carol's opinion. "I-I can get some extra blankets," she said.
"Awesome. And we can talk and stuff tomorrow morning. I wanna know more about you two," Vicky said.
Amelia jumped to her feet, a huge smile on her face. "Brilliant! Hey, do you guys have a turkey, or maybe a chicken, in the freezer?"
"A chicken?" Amy asked.
"Well, anything with biomass. I need to make a little critter to go tell my other critters to bring our stuff over."
"Whoa, wait, your powers aren't the same as Amy's?" Vicky asked.
"Can Amy make an army of self-replicating creatures that are all about as smart as ten-year-olds by turning biomass into big pods?"
"N-no," Amy said. "I can, uh, heal people by touching them."
Older Amy looked at her with something like pity before patting her head. "That's nice too, I guess."
"I said no!" Carol screeched.
***
Poor Carol.
Big thank you to ChaoticSky and Eshwartz for the help, and all the fine folks my Discord who popped over to help with this mess.
Timerider
That guy who really should get out more.
- Location
- The End of the World.
NOBODY CARES!
RadiantPhoenix
Trudging up the Hill
- Location
- USA, Earth
- Pronouns
- She/Her
The seats on this train have no padding, and the wheels have no grease. It's gonna' be a noisy, bumpy ride.
- Location
- Sufficient Velocity, at the moment
Calling it now, next chapter is a smash cut to an exhausted and traumatized Dallon family the next morning as Vicky bemoans having to burn her entire room, just to be safe.
OverReactionGuy
Verified Sanity
- Location
- Wales
Taylor will be able to, but she won't say anything because she is having to much fun....know what I mean squire eh, nudge nudge wink wink
