Constellations (Worm/Okami)
- Thread starter UnwelcomeStorm
- Start date
Chojomeka
Behold! QUEEN MONKE!
Hah! Jokes on that monkey's paw of a wish, I also want more of the other version of US's Constellations
Omake: Winter Wonderland
Mojiizen
Opa stickman style!
- Location
- In your base, Lurking your threads
And As nice as it is to have Constellations on the front page again (and since necromancy is not a crime on SV, just sufficiently aggravating at times), please do pay more attention to the dates on the last posts. Also, to make up for this, an Omake!
---o-o---
Taylor smiled from her Kotatsu as she watched Sunny bounce around in the snow that piled up in the shrine yard. Regardless of the season, the wolf always enjoyed the surrounding environment to the fullest. Still, watching the the snow puff up cartoonishly as Sunny tunneled under it before exploding outwards when she surfaced was exactly the sort of thing viral videos were made of.
'It has been a good year.' Taylor thought, sipping her green tea.
She picked up a Snowball from the pile at her side and threw it past Sunny, who barked and chased happily after it. The look of confusion on Sunny's face when she couldn't find the snowball at the impact site made Taylor wish she had a camera.
Going to take another sip, but finding her cup empty, Taylor reluctantly removed herself from the warmth of the Kotatsu and retrieved the teapot for a refill. 'This is the Best present Obaa-chan ever gave me.' Somehow, even in the months it has been since being met by the forceful personality of the Japanese grandmother, Taylor still has not learned her name.
Returning the the warmth and coziness of the Kotatsu, Taylor resettled herself and turned to see what Sunny was doing now. What she saw in the yard made her glad she was letting the tea cool momentarily. In the minute it had taken her to get up, refill her cup, and sit back down, Sunny had somehow taken half the snow in the yard and made a 3:1 scale snow statue of herself.
Taylor blinked. "You know, Sunny, compared to everything that's happened since Halloween, I'm not even surprised." She took another sip.
---o-o---
Taylor smiled from her Kotatsu as she watched Sunny bounce around in the snow that piled up in the shrine yard. Regardless of the season, the wolf always enjoyed the surrounding environment to the fullest. Still, watching the the snow puff up cartoonishly as Sunny tunneled under it before exploding outwards when she surfaced was exactly the sort of thing viral videos were made of.
'It has been a good year.' Taylor thought, sipping her green tea.
She picked up a Snowball from the pile at her side and threw it past Sunny, who barked and chased happily after it. The look of confusion on Sunny's face when she couldn't find the snowball at the impact site made Taylor wish she had a camera.
Going to take another sip, but finding her cup empty, Taylor reluctantly removed herself from the warmth of the Kotatsu and retrieved the teapot for a refill. 'This is the Best present Obaa-chan ever gave me.' Somehow, even in the months it has been since being met by the forceful personality of the Japanese grandmother, Taylor still has not learned her name.
Returning the the warmth and coziness of the Kotatsu, Taylor resettled herself and turned to see what Sunny was doing now. What she saw in the yard made her glad she was letting the tea cool momentarily. In the minute it had taken her to get up, refill her cup, and sit back down, Sunny had somehow taken half the snow in the yard and made a 3:1 scale snow statue of herself.
Taylor blinked. "You know, Sunny, compared to everything that's happened since Halloween, I'm not even surprised." She took another sip.
Chapter 33
UnwelcomeStorm
BARK! BARK! BARK!
- Location
- United States
(Merry Christmas, and doG bless us, everyone.)
33
Halloween fell on a Sunday, which suited Taylor just fine. It meant that she had plenty of time to spend at the Shrine finishing up preparations for the afternoon's event, and even some extra to spend in relative relaxation. Or, as relaxed as she could get, with Sunny's sudden surge of paranoia. The canine had meticulously gone over every tag and charm on the Shrine's grounds, and insisted on Taylor adding the looping swirling charms to the backs of the flyers. She'd even dug up yet another book on Shinto rituals for Taylor to look through—Taylor was beginning to suspect that the wolf had an entire ditch somewhere, just filled with books she planned to parcel out—and had dragged poor Haru over by his shirtsleeves to help translate. Taylor grumbled about being given yet another project, just a little, but she followed along with her friend's demands to carefully cut a few sticks of bamboo from the tea ceremony area, then spend an hour or so folding new shide tags to tie to them.
She put her foot down when Sunny tried to drag a sleeping bag into the little office building. She was not having a one-person sleepover in the middle of winter, end of discussion. Sunny made an irritated noise, but accepted some brushing of her thick fur in compensation. As always, Taylor carefully picked out the long, coarse hairs from the brush and added them to her stash. The wolf's tail fur made for way better paintbrush material than she'd have ever guessed, and she was starting to accumulate a number of the completed tools by now. Hm— maybe she could give her dad one, as well as the gaming model she'd picked out and painted? That sounded like a nice gesture. Taylor filed the idea away for later.
She was still sorting through Sunny's shed fur and considering what type of brush to make next when a knock sounded at the Shrine's little office door. Not a very usual occurrence, to be honest. "Come in!" Taylor called.
The door opened to admit Yuuta, who ducked his head in greeting before closing the door behind him, before all the warm air could escape. "Hey, Miko. Got a minute?"
"You can call me Taylor, you know. And yeah, what's up?"
"You're wearing your colors, you're the Miko." Did he have to say it like she was representing a gang? Some sort of… canine-led, paint-themed gang? Yuuta pulled out the chair in front of her desk and sat down before speaking. "Anyway. Baachan an' my pa have been skulking around the apartment and muttering for a few days, but they're both too polite or something to come ask you directly. You said you're wanting to rent out those buildings you own, didn't you?"
"Well— the ones not going to be a hot spring? Yeah, once I get them cleaned and fixed up. Why?"
The other teen scrubbed a hand through his hair, visibly picking and choosing his words. "You wouldn't know this but— back in Japan? My family ran a bakery, apparently. Or, Baachan did. After Kyushu happened everything kinda went tits-up everywhere, so Pa packed up and moved us to America. I was like, four? So I don't remember it much," he shrugged.
Baachan having professional cooking experience didn't really surprise Taylor, though she'd wondered at times if excellent cooking skills were something that just sort of happened once people got old enough for grandchildren to be a thing. Speculation aside, she could see where Yuuta was going with this. "They're thinking of re-opening a bakery?"
"Think so. Pa keeps dragging out his checkbook and crunching numbers… uh, thing is—and here's where the polite thing comes in—they're not sure how much you'd want to charge rent. Money's kinda tight as it is."
"And the start-up costs alone are probably high, huh. Getting ovens and a food vendor license and everything." She'd looked up a few things on the subject already, now that she had an internet connection of her very own. The results had been a bit intimidating; as in, the entire sum she'd received from the Protectorate was enough to open a single business. Rent alone had a range from $1500 to $3000 a month, but she had no idea of what the average rates for Brockton Bay would be. Taylor chewed on her lip, thinking. She really needed someone who understood money and business better if she wanted to make informed decisions, here.
On the other hand, the uninformed decision-making was easy: Sunny would love a bakery, and Taylor would love to help her friends.
"Yuuta, I don't really know what the numbers would be? But… you and your Baachan have been really good to me and Sunny, when you never had to be. So, if your dad wants to do this, I'll help however I can. We'll find some figures that make it work."
"Seriously? That's really cool of you, Miko. Taylor, whatever. Assuming Baachan doesn't take my head off for going around her back, I'll let you know what happens."
Taylor grinned at the joke. "Sounds good. For now, though, I need to get things ready— you think very many people will show up? I know I had you setting up flyers, but…"
* * *
"Probably a few," he'd said. Yeah. A few.
Taylor had known a few of The Baachans would be there, herding around grandchildren, and probably some younger siblings of the different families who frequented the shrine. Maybe a couple kids from Winslow or Arcadia, if anyone both took the flyers seriously and felt brave enough to go poking around a known kinda-slum. Not that the unofficial ABB district was looking bad these days— people seemed to be picking up litter more, and there weren't so many broken windows or cracked walls around. All those budding cherry trees added a wonderful bit of color to the place, too, the saplings already grown enough to not really be saplings anymore, but young trees just reaching the tips of their crowns to the rooftops. So, sure, she expected a few curious souls from the other parts of the city.
What Taylor got was considerably more lively.
Baachans were herding around grandchildren like ducklings, as expected, and small gangs of tweens were getting underfoot as they ran around, playing games. But also older kids, many even older than her had appeared, grouped up in circles to chat, or play cards. Taylor spotted a few she knew from Winslow, but many more she'd never met, their fashion sense hinting at Arcadia. And there were adults, too, sharing not-so-discreet drinks and talking with old friends and new acquaintances. There were so many people the Shrine's grounds couldn't hold them, and what she'd thought was going to be a small, slightly silly gesture had overtaken most of the street. A less raucous block party than what had grown out of her sapling-planting spree, but a party nonetheless. It was overwhelming, not just the noise and activity, but how… connected it made her feel. This wasn't a community throwing a party for itself, and dragging her in. This was something she'd started, her and Sunny, and all these people she'd never met had not only accepted it, but done so whole-heartedly.
(Taylor strongly suspected that The Baachans had known this would happen. All those food vendors along the sidewalk were awfully convenient.)
Still, the sheer level of social activity presented left Taylor feeling rather out of her depths, until she found the perfect excuse to deal with it: she was clearly going to need more emas. Taylor ducked into the office and found her paints, spare wooden plaques, and a short easel to balance them on, and set them up right outside. And then she went right back inside, and grabbed her kettle and a few cups.
Thus fortified, Taylor set to work painting. She drew a steady trickle of curious patrons, most of them not locals, who asked dozens of questions about the Shrine, and the emas, and her painting. Absorbed in being an informative hostess, Taylor almost didn't notice the new guests until they were upon her. Two ripples spread through the various pockets of people all around the gathering, many breaking into excited whispers, and others growing quieter, more wary. Taylor looked up at the change and had a clear view of the torii gate, where a trio of heroes followed the Pawprint Sidewalk. She stood, ready to go welcome the Protectorate and hopefully defuse the tension, but one of The Baachans did it first. An old woman gestured at them from where she sat in her chair, beckoning them over.
"Oh, Velocity! Adeunim, come over here. I did not know you were coming!" Taylor saw Velocity grin and obey the Grandmother Edict, taking the Wards with him for introductions, and she saw the previous ripple of unease smooth into acceptance. It made Taylor smile to recognize it. If The Baachans wanted them here, no one would claim the heroes weren't welcome. Maybe not even Lung. Maybe. Taylor sipped at her tea, and got back to painting.
Eventually, the Wards managed to slip free of the gravitational pull of The Baachans (it looked like Velocity was still caught) and the pair wandered over to where Taylor was painting the wooden wish plaques. Kid Win held up a hand in a wave and spoke first, prompting a slight twitch of annoyance from Vista.
"Hi! You're Brushstroke, right? I'm Kid Win, this is Vista."
Taylor shook their hands, and said, "It's good to meet you! You don't have to call me Brushstroke, though. That's just for paperwork, I'm not a cape. My name's Taylor, or I guess you can call me Miko, too."
"Taylor or Miko, got it. What's the second one?" Vista asked, taking the reins of the conversation away from Kid Win.
"Sort of a title, I suppose. Or a job description. It basically means I'm taking care of the Shrine. I can usually get people to call me by my name when I'm not here."
"Okay. What should we call Good Dog? And... " Vista glanced around. "Where is Good Dog, anyway?"
"Her name is Sunshine, Sunny for short. And I'm not sure, actually? She went to go check on something. I'm hoping she'll be back soon."
* * *
"Console, things are pretty quiet out in the Docks. I'm gonna make one more pass, then head North, over."
"Roger that, Dauntless. Over."
Dauntless tapped his headset's mic to mute it, then sighed. The Docks were always a terrible place to patrol. Most crime here took place inside or in dark alleys, where it was hard to see from the air, or in the newly-claimed lairs of newly-triggered parahumans, who seemed to always want to find an abandoned warehouse to claim and decorate. Or worse, when the more foolhardy thought to try and take up residence inside a rusted hulk of the Boat Graveyard. First encounters with capes were dangerous and uncertain, and the paperwork afterward was a huge pain in the ass. Dauntless really wished he didn't somehow manage to get assigned to the Docks so often.
The hero sighed, adjusted his ankles inside his pseudo-rocket boots like they were roller skates, and flew a bit lower. Maybe if he was close to the street, he'd have a better chance of spotting something he could actually deal with.
He was skirting the edge of the Boat Graveyard when a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention— and spiked his adrenaline, because the movement had been from the top of one of the taller buildings, and it was rapidly heading down. Dauntless swerved to intercept before his brain could fully catch up with him. Had someone just jumped?
"Hey, hold o— whooof!"
The moving shape dropped into his arms and Dauntless buckled under the weight, even with his enhanced equipment. He steadied his flight into a hover with a slight flex and a thought, then examined his 'rescue' of a white canine, currently held in a princess carry. Good Dog was ignoring the hero's efforts, instead focusing on the Boat Graveyard beyond. Just barely able to see around the fluff, Dauntless spotted the wolf giving the most suspicious and disapproving stare to the rusted ships possible. Clenched in the wolf's teeth were several strips of paper, covered in inked swirls and characters.
"Good Dog—ugh, you're heavy—what are you doing?"
Good Dog ignored him, muzzle moving as it scanned the shoreline, before the canine huffed and spared the hero a single nod. Dauntless had the strangest feeling he'd just been given the equivalent of a 'carry on, soldier' pat on the back. Then Good Dog wriggled until he was forced to let go, and the wolf somersaulted down to the street and ran off without another bark. Dauntless hovered there for a little while, feeling a sudden swell of pity and understanding for his co-workers.
* * *
"That's good. I'd like to meet her." Vista remarked, then at Taylor's invitation pulled over a folding chair and sat down to watch her work. Kid Win eschewed the chair to sit on his hoverboard, instead. "So— can I ask what you're doing? Like, how does your painting work?"
What a weird way to phrase it. "Um, well… right now I'm painting some ema. They're these little wooden boards. Once I've painted them, you can write a wish on the back, and hang it up on the Wishing Tree over there." She paused in her painting to point at the old oak tree, with its gently swaying frame of boards. "These and charms are something I'm wanting to offer for— well, not really sale? An as-you-like donation, basically, for the upkeep of the Shrine."
"Hold on," Kid Win said, "I gotta ask: if you paint these, does that mean the wish comes true?"
Okay, that was kind of cute. Maybe the Wards weren't immune from being teenagers, after all. Taylor smiled and said, "Mm, maybe! I've made a few charms that people have liked the results of. Here, let me paint you each one special, as a thanks for coming."
The offer got the Wards' attention, and held it until Sunny finally came back. The canine looked a bit happier right off the bat, but Taylor saw the wolf's eyes widen and face break into a doggy grin at the sight of all the cheerful people and children— and all the food. There was no doubt in Taylor's mind that the wolf would manage to beg samples from each and every vendor before the night was done. But first, she came by lick Taylor's cheek in greeting, and then to sit in front of Kid Win and make greedy eyes at the Tinker's hoverboard.
"Awww… how could I say no to that face? Up you go, Good Dog!"
"Holy crap, why does everyone call her a dog, she could bite me in half!"
Seeing Sunny get a ride on the hoverboard sparked a chain reaction, with the younger children beginning to plead for rides was well, both with the young Tinker's flying machine and with Sunny. The wolf didn't seem to mind.
* * *
Taylor was glad for her extra work by the end of the party, when a couple dozen people had taken emas to hang on the Wishing Tree. The two Wards managed to cajole Taylor into making one for herself, too, though she still waited until the party was winding down. The heroes were actually some of the last to leave.
"You've got to want something, don't you? Or— oh, can you not really grant your own wishes?" Vista looked up from where she was writing on the back of her own ema, taking great care to keep her wish hidden from Kid Wn's prying eyes.
"It's not that… it's just— well, I'm pretty happy as-is these days. Feels weird to say that, heh." Taylor glanced over her shoulder to check on Sunny, who was sitting near Baachan and accepting pets from the old woman. Taylor turned back to the ema in front of her, thinking. "There's things I want, sure… but I think they're the sorts of things you only get by working at them, you know? Nothing that requires divine intervention, so to speak…" She thought of her dad, and the awkwardness between them. She thought of Emma, and the deep wound her friend had given her, still scarring over.
And then, she had it. The one thing that would truly require a miracle. Taylor grinned and started writing, not caring if the Wards and even Velocity peeked over her shoulder:
Please let Lung start wearing a shirt.
The heroes' goodbyes were a little stilted. They must have been getting tired.
The last person to leave, Taylor was surprised to note, was none other than Baachan. It gave her a chance to thank the old woman for all her help, though, so she was happy for it. She went over and accepted the hug Baachan offered, as soon as she was within range of speaking.
"Here, Miko. Let Baachan ask you something, hm?"
"Of course, what is it?"
"When you look around here—this shrine, these streets—what is it you see?"
More than mortar and wood, obviously. Taylor sat in an empty chair near Baachan and considered it, while Sunny moved over to press against her knees. "All the work that's gone into it, I guess? The time put in, and how much things are different here now."
"Mm." The old woman nodded, then turned to Taylor. "Let me tell you what I see: I see change, Miko. I see growing things, I see people—young people and old people—making things change. I listen to Honoka-chan smiling, telling me her Souta isn't causing so much trouble these days. I listen to my son, at last wanting to take chances. All these things, this old woman never thought she'd see again."
Her eyes were sad, but saying this, Baachan smiled. "You do good work, Miko. Thank you for coming here. And thank you, Sunny." The old woman's smile turned wry and knowing. She reached into her purse and drew out a folded bundle of tissue paper. "Here, for your collection."
Sunny took the small offering before Taylor could, her tail twapping against the ground in a wag. The wolf stretched out her neck and shoved her furry head under Baachan's now-empty hand, and the old woman rubbed her ears fondly.
When Baachan had left, her segway a distant vrrrrrrr, Sunny took the tissues with her up into the shrine proper, and waited for Taylor to open up her zodiac box. The small handful of beads poured in with a gentle clicking. Taylor closed the box back up and picked tissue lint away from Sunny's mouth, while she eyed the box lid and the characters over the newly-filled hutch.
Inoshishi, the boar.
* * *
Yuuta grumbled and swore under his breath, the curses misting in the cold pre-dawn air. Not that it was saying much, with the lateness of the year, but it was still well before Winslow would open its doors. He was only here to finish up a math project, but it wasn't until he'd gotten off the bus and started walking that it occurred to him that, if the staff and janitors hadn't yet arrived, the school doors might well be locked. He might have to spend an hour or so waiting for someone to show up.
Ugh. What a way to start the week.
Yuuta tromped up to one of the side doors and gave the handle an experimental tug. To his surprise, it opened. The teen didn't let go of the handle. The inside of the building was dark, the lights and probably heat still turned off, so he hadn't expected the door to be unlocked… Yuuta leaned in, and took a closer look. There was a piece of packing tape over the door's lock, keeping the tumblers pressed. Not even Winslow kept doors like that on purpose. Yuuta shouldered his overstuffed and straining backpack a little higher, then touched the switchblade in his back pocket, to confirm it was there before he crept inside.
Schools are spooky in the dark. They're built like prisons when they're in poor areas like this, only with an added layer of decoration in the form of sports posters, and school newspapers that nobody read, and worn linoleum on the floor. Yuuta's shoe squeaked and he winced. When nothing dove out of the shadows at him, he wiped his soles on the bottom of his pants' legs and continued, this time much quieter. He cursed himself for being a scaredy-cat, but it didn't stop him from sneaking.
He was glad for his caution, a few hallways further in, as he made for his locker.
He was right near a turn in the hall when he heard scraping, and a light grunt of effort. Yuuta stopped and pressed up against the wall, then peeked carefully around the corner. Over by the window was someone else, currently taking a prybar to one of the outside windows. The person—short, but he couldn't quite tell who—had already gotten the actual window open, but they were working at the barrier of wire mesh that Winslow had put in place of actual bars. Breaking and entering was a bigger concern than fire safety, it seemed.
"And you're sure this will work?" The person—a girl—asked.
"Yes, just as I said. I can open the doors just fine, if you'll let me in." Oh, shit. There were two girls, not one, and the second was actually outside. The first grunted again, swore, and finally broke a corner of the mesh away from the window frame. It was short work to tear the rest of it away, letting the second girl climb in. It was hard to see in the low light, but she looked like a blonde. Maybe pretty, but with a mouth set just slightly too wide to be striking. And she was dragging in a garbage bag, tightly closed, and full of something that couldn't be very solid or heavy.
"Great!" The first one sighed, and turned— oh shit, oh shit Yuuta knew that one. That crazy redhead that tried to get Souta suspended. "Ugh, I swear I can smell that stuff already. Let's do this quick and— hey!" Oh triple shit. She'd spotted him. Yuuta pushed away from the wall and stood straight. This was fine, nothing to be afraid of, just girls. Not ghosts or gangers or Baachan.
"Recognize you, crazy chick. The hell are you doing here?"
"None of your goddamn business!" The crazy chick—Emma, right?—snapped at him. "Just go away!"
"Yeah, maybe it isn't. Maybe it is. What are you doin' breaking in before school?"
"I said, none of your goddamn business, you fucking ABB scum!" Emma bared her teeth at him, like a cornered rat. Yuuta just frowned. This chick had a long way to go before she was intimidating. The girl behind her, on the other hand… Yuuta felt his skin crawl a little. He'd never met her and she still looked a little too familiar. And she was staring at him like she knew he had a knife in his pocket.
"That just makes me think it is. You after Taylor again?" Emma reeled back like he'd slapped her. "Man, what'd the Miko ever do to you, anyway?"
"What'd she do? What'd she do?! Nothing! She did NOTHING! She never did ANYTHING!"
"...ooooohkay. And uh, what about your friend? What's her beef?"
"I'm Karen. I'm a much better friend than Taylor."
"She's Karen," Emma parroted, "and she's a much better friend than Taylor."
Oh fuckdamnit that had to be a red flag about something. "Never met her. I don't think she goes to this school." Yuuta gripped his backpack's strap a little tighter. 'Karen' smiled at him, her mouth stretching more than just a little too wide. Then her eyes widened, mirroring his, and her warped mouth turned down in an exaggerated snarl. Yuuta saw what was definitely not teeth. He reached for his knife.
Emma finally clued in to some flicker of self-preservation instinct, or maybe she just heard the hiss as the spider-woman's pincer-like jaws spread wide. She turned, saw, and screamed.
The youkai's illusion crumbled, the spiderwebs she'd wrapped around the crazy chick not quite strong enough to immobilize her prey, but the shock and fear apparently was. Emma screamed again, the sound jarring Yuuta just enough to override common sense. He braced his feet, then heaved his backpack at the spider. The overstuffed bag slammed into the spirit hard enough to break the already-failing zippers, spilling Yuuta's books and papers all over the hallway. Freed of the weight, the teen reached forward and grabbed Emma's wrist, then pulled.
The spider-woman reached for her escaping prey, but stopped as the papers tumbling around her feet began to smoke. His folder full of the abandoned ofuda the Miko had made, weeks ago, had begun to smoulder, the visible glimpses of ink taking on a sullen glow. The youkai hissed, and kicked at them, the motion dislodging a different folder from the paper pile— this one with the spare party flyers. Yuuta saw the glow even through the folder's cover.
"Fucking run!" He tugged on Emma's arm nearly hard enough to dislocate it, and pulled the shrieking girl away from the window and the widow. Not ten feet away and the hallway lit up with an oddly silent explosion, ribbons of light peeling away from the ruin of his backpack like someone had opened up a can of Legend. Yuuta heard the youkai shriek, and kept running.
He didn't really get far, trying to drag along the crazy chick and all, but once they reached the other end of the hallway Yuuta looked back. There was a smoking mess on the floor near the open window, a few spare cobwebs drifting from the ceiling, and no youkai. Yuutra tried to even out his breathing, and checked the other directions of the hallway; there was nothing.
Okay. Okay. This was fine. He needed to— needed to get his phone, and call up some of the guys, and get this mess cleaned before the Miko saw it. Or the teachers, he supposed. Lucky he had his phone in his pocket, not his bag. Yuuta tried to reach for it, and ran into a bit of a problem.
"Uh— hey. Let go." Emma whimpered, the girl's eyes wide and empty with shock. She was clinging to his arm like a barnacle. "I mean it. Off. Let— let go. I need to—" Oh, no. Yuuta tried, unsuccessfully, to pry the girl off of him. He eventually managed to at least reach his phone, but it was with a heavy heart that he thumbed the contacts list, because now there was only one thing he could do.
The phone rang, then picked up with an ominous click. Yuuta sighed. "Baachan, there's a crying girl attached to my arm, and she won't let go. What do I do?"
"Yuuta, what you do to her?"
"Nothing! There was a— a thing! She got attacked, and, uh… crying."
"Then you bring her home, you silly boy." Click.
33
Halloween fell on a Sunday, which suited Taylor just fine. It meant that she had plenty of time to spend at the Shrine finishing up preparations for the afternoon's event, and even some extra to spend in relative relaxation. Or, as relaxed as she could get, with Sunny's sudden surge of paranoia. The canine had meticulously gone over every tag and charm on the Shrine's grounds, and insisted on Taylor adding the looping swirling charms to the backs of the flyers. She'd even dug up yet another book on Shinto rituals for Taylor to look through—Taylor was beginning to suspect that the wolf had an entire ditch somewhere, just filled with books she planned to parcel out—and had dragged poor Haru over by his shirtsleeves to help translate. Taylor grumbled about being given yet another project, just a little, but she followed along with her friend's demands to carefully cut a few sticks of bamboo from the tea ceremony area, then spend an hour or so folding new shide tags to tie to them.
She put her foot down when Sunny tried to drag a sleeping bag into the little office building. She was not having a one-person sleepover in the middle of winter, end of discussion. Sunny made an irritated noise, but accepted some brushing of her thick fur in compensation. As always, Taylor carefully picked out the long, coarse hairs from the brush and added them to her stash. The wolf's tail fur made for way better paintbrush material than she'd have ever guessed, and she was starting to accumulate a number of the completed tools by now. Hm— maybe she could give her dad one, as well as the gaming model she'd picked out and painted? That sounded like a nice gesture. Taylor filed the idea away for later.
She was still sorting through Sunny's shed fur and considering what type of brush to make next when a knock sounded at the Shrine's little office door. Not a very usual occurrence, to be honest. "Come in!" Taylor called.
The door opened to admit Yuuta, who ducked his head in greeting before closing the door behind him, before all the warm air could escape. "Hey, Miko. Got a minute?"
"You can call me Taylor, you know. And yeah, what's up?"
"You're wearing your colors, you're the Miko." Did he have to say it like she was representing a gang? Some sort of… canine-led, paint-themed gang? Yuuta pulled out the chair in front of her desk and sat down before speaking. "Anyway. Baachan an' my pa have been skulking around the apartment and muttering for a few days, but they're both too polite or something to come ask you directly. You said you're wanting to rent out those buildings you own, didn't you?"
"Well— the ones not going to be a hot spring? Yeah, once I get them cleaned and fixed up. Why?"
The other teen scrubbed a hand through his hair, visibly picking and choosing his words. "You wouldn't know this but— back in Japan? My family ran a bakery, apparently. Or, Baachan did. After Kyushu happened everything kinda went tits-up everywhere, so Pa packed up and moved us to America. I was like, four? So I don't remember it much," he shrugged.
Baachan having professional cooking experience didn't really surprise Taylor, though she'd wondered at times if excellent cooking skills were something that just sort of happened once people got old enough for grandchildren to be a thing. Speculation aside, she could see where Yuuta was going with this. "They're thinking of re-opening a bakery?"
"Think so. Pa keeps dragging out his checkbook and crunching numbers… uh, thing is—and here's where the polite thing comes in—they're not sure how much you'd want to charge rent. Money's kinda tight as it is."
"And the start-up costs alone are probably high, huh. Getting ovens and a food vendor license and everything." She'd looked up a few things on the subject already, now that she had an internet connection of her very own. The results had been a bit intimidating; as in, the entire sum she'd received from the Protectorate was enough to open a single business. Rent alone had a range from $1500 to $3000 a month, but she had no idea of what the average rates for Brockton Bay would be. Taylor chewed on her lip, thinking. She really needed someone who understood money and business better if she wanted to make informed decisions, here.
On the other hand, the uninformed decision-making was easy: Sunny would love a bakery, and Taylor would love to help her friends.
"Yuuta, I don't really know what the numbers would be? But… you and your Baachan have been really good to me and Sunny, when you never had to be. So, if your dad wants to do this, I'll help however I can. We'll find some figures that make it work."
"Seriously? That's really cool of you, Miko. Taylor, whatever. Assuming Baachan doesn't take my head off for going around her back, I'll let you know what happens."
Taylor grinned at the joke. "Sounds good. For now, though, I need to get things ready— you think very many people will show up? I know I had you setting up flyers, but…"
* * *
"Probably a few," he'd said. Yeah. A few.
Taylor had known a few of The Baachans would be there, herding around grandchildren, and probably some younger siblings of the different families who frequented the shrine. Maybe a couple kids from Winslow or Arcadia, if anyone both took the flyers seriously and felt brave enough to go poking around a known kinda-slum. Not that the unofficial ABB district was looking bad these days— people seemed to be picking up litter more, and there weren't so many broken windows or cracked walls around. All those budding cherry trees added a wonderful bit of color to the place, too, the saplings already grown enough to not really be saplings anymore, but young trees just reaching the tips of their crowns to the rooftops. So, sure, she expected a few curious souls from the other parts of the city.
What Taylor got was considerably more lively.
Baachans were herding around grandchildren like ducklings, as expected, and small gangs of tweens were getting underfoot as they ran around, playing games. But also older kids, many even older than her had appeared, grouped up in circles to chat, or play cards. Taylor spotted a few she knew from Winslow, but many more she'd never met, their fashion sense hinting at Arcadia. And there were adults, too, sharing not-so-discreet drinks and talking with old friends and new acquaintances. There were so many people the Shrine's grounds couldn't hold them, and what she'd thought was going to be a small, slightly silly gesture had overtaken most of the street. A less raucous block party than what had grown out of her sapling-planting spree, but a party nonetheless. It was overwhelming, not just the noise and activity, but how… connected it made her feel. This wasn't a community throwing a party for itself, and dragging her in. This was something she'd started, her and Sunny, and all these people she'd never met had not only accepted it, but done so whole-heartedly.
(Taylor strongly suspected that The Baachans had known this would happen. All those food vendors along the sidewalk were awfully convenient.)
Still, the sheer level of social activity presented left Taylor feeling rather out of her depths, until she found the perfect excuse to deal with it: she was clearly going to need more emas. Taylor ducked into the office and found her paints, spare wooden plaques, and a short easel to balance them on, and set them up right outside. And then she went right back inside, and grabbed her kettle and a few cups.
Thus fortified, Taylor set to work painting. She drew a steady trickle of curious patrons, most of them not locals, who asked dozens of questions about the Shrine, and the emas, and her painting. Absorbed in being an informative hostess, Taylor almost didn't notice the new guests until they were upon her. Two ripples spread through the various pockets of people all around the gathering, many breaking into excited whispers, and others growing quieter, more wary. Taylor looked up at the change and had a clear view of the torii gate, where a trio of heroes followed the Pawprint Sidewalk. She stood, ready to go welcome the Protectorate and hopefully defuse the tension, but one of The Baachans did it first. An old woman gestured at them from where she sat in her chair, beckoning them over.
"Oh, Velocity! Adeunim, come over here. I did not know you were coming!" Taylor saw Velocity grin and obey the Grandmother Edict, taking the Wards with him for introductions, and she saw the previous ripple of unease smooth into acceptance. It made Taylor smile to recognize it. If The Baachans wanted them here, no one would claim the heroes weren't welcome. Maybe not even Lung. Maybe. Taylor sipped at her tea, and got back to painting.
Eventually, the Wards managed to slip free of the gravitational pull of The Baachans (it looked like Velocity was still caught) and the pair wandered over to where Taylor was painting the wooden wish plaques. Kid Win held up a hand in a wave and spoke first, prompting a slight twitch of annoyance from Vista.
"Hi! You're Brushstroke, right? I'm Kid Win, this is Vista."
Taylor shook their hands, and said, "It's good to meet you! You don't have to call me Brushstroke, though. That's just for paperwork, I'm not a cape. My name's Taylor, or I guess you can call me Miko, too."
"Taylor or Miko, got it. What's the second one?" Vista asked, taking the reins of the conversation away from Kid Win.
"Sort of a title, I suppose. Or a job description. It basically means I'm taking care of the Shrine. I can usually get people to call me by my name when I'm not here."
"Okay. What should we call Good Dog? And... " Vista glanced around. "Where is Good Dog, anyway?"
"Her name is Sunshine, Sunny for short. And I'm not sure, actually? She went to go check on something. I'm hoping she'll be back soon."
* * *
"Console, things are pretty quiet out in the Docks. I'm gonna make one more pass, then head North, over."
"Roger that, Dauntless. Over."
Dauntless tapped his headset's mic to mute it, then sighed. The Docks were always a terrible place to patrol. Most crime here took place inside or in dark alleys, where it was hard to see from the air, or in the newly-claimed lairs of newly-triggered parahumans, who seemed to always want to find an abandoned warehouse to claim and decorate. Or worse, when the more foolhardy thought to try and take up residence inside a rusted hulk of the Boat Graveyard. First encounters with capes were dangerous and uncertain, and the paperwork afterward was a huge pain in the ass. Dauntless really wished he didn't somehow manage to get assigned to the Docks so often.
The hero sighed, adjusted his ankles inside his pseudo-rocket boots like they were roller skates, and flew a bit lower. Maybe if he was close to the street, he'd have a better chance of spotting something he could actually deal with.
He was skirting the edge of the Boat Graveyard when a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention— and spiked his adrenaline, because the movement had been from the top of one of the taller buildings, and it was rapidly heading down. Dauntless swerved to intercept before his brain could fully catch up with him. Had someone just jumped?
"Hey, hold o— whooof!"
The moving shape dropped into his arms and Dauntless buckled under the weight, even with his enhanced equipment. He steadied his flight into a hover with a slight flex and a thought, then examined his 'rescue' of a white canine, currently held in a princess carry. Good Dog was ignoring the hero's efforts, instead focusing on the Boat Graveyard beyond. Just barely able to see around the fluff, Dauntless spotted the wolf giving the most suspicious and disapproving stare to the rusted ships possible. Clenched in the wolf's teeth were several strips of paper, covered in inked swirls and characters.
"Good Dog—ugh, you're heavy—what are you doing?"
Good Dog ignored him, muzzle moving as it scanned the shoreline, before the canine huffed and spared the hero a single nod. Dauntless had the strangest feeling he'd just been given the equivalent of a 'carry on, soldier' pat on the back. Then Good Dog wriggled until he was forced to let go, and the wolf somersaulted down to the street and ran off without another bark. Dauntless hovered there for a little while, feeling a sudden swell of pity and understanding for his co-workers.
* * *
"That's good. I'd like to meet her." Vista remarked, then at Taylor's invitation pulled over a folding chair and sat down to watch her work. Kid Win eschewed the chair to sit on his hoverboard, instead. "So— can I ask what you're doing? Like, how does your painting work?"
What a weird way to phrase it. "Um, well… right now I'm painting some ema. They're these little wooden boards. Once I've painted them, you can write a wish on the back, and hang it up on the Wishing Tree over there." She paused in her painting to point at the old oak tree, with its gently swaying frame of boards. "These and charms are something I'm wanting to offer for— well, not really sale? An as-you-like donation, basically, for the upkeep of the Shrine."
"Hold on," Kid Win said, "I gotta ask: if you paint these, does that mean the wish comes true?"
Okay, that was kind of cute. Maybe the Wards weren't immune from being teenagers, after all. Taylor smiled and said, "Mm, maybe! I've made a few charms that people have liked the results of. Here, let me paint you each one special, as a thanks for coming."
The offer got the Wards' attention, and held it until Sunny finally came back. The canine looked a bit happier right off the bat, but Taylor saw the wolf's eyes widen and face break into a doggy grin at the sight of all the cheerful people and children— and all the food. There was no doubt in Taylor's mind that the wolf would manage to beg samples from each and every vendor before the night was done. But first, she came by lick Taylor's cheek in greeting, and then to sit in front of Kid Win and make greedy eyes at the Tinker's hoverboard.
"Awww… how could I say no to that face? Up you go, Good Dog!"
"Holy crap, why does everyone call her a dog, she could bite me in half!"
Seeing Sunny get a ride on the hoverboard sparked a chain reaction, with the younger children beginning to plead for rides was well, both with the young Tinker's flying machine and with Sunny. The wolf didn't seem to mind.
* * *
Taylor was glad for her extra work by the end of the party, when a couple dozen people had taken emas to hang on the Wishing Tree. The two Wards managed to cajole Taylor into making one for herself, too, though she still waited until the party was winding down. The heroes were actually some of the last to leave.
"You've got to want something, don't you? Or— oh, can you not really grant your own wishes?" Vista looked up from where she was writing on the back of her own ema, taking great care to keep her wish hidden from Kid Wn's prying eyes.
"It's not that… it's just— well, I'm pretty happy as-is these days. Feels weird to say that, heh." Taylor glanced over her shoulder to check on Sunny, who was sitting near Baachan and accepting pets from the old woman. Taylor turned back to the ema in front of her, thinking. "There's things I want, sure… but I think they're the sorts of things you only get by working at them, you know? Nothing that requires divine intervention, so to speak…" She thought of her dad, and the awkwardness between them. She thought of Emma, and the deep wound her friend had given her, still scarring over.
And then, she had it. The one thing that would truly require a miracle. Taylor grinned and started writing, not caring if the Wards and even Velocity peeked over her shoulder:
Please let Lung start wearing a shirt.
The heroes' goodbyes were a little stilted. They must have been getting tired.
The last person to leave, Taylor was surprised to note, was none other than Baachan. It gave her a chance to thank the old woman for all her help, though, so she was happy for it. She went over and accepted the hug Baachan offered, as soon as she was within range of speaking.
"Here, Miko. Let Baachan ask you something, hm?"
"Of course, what is it?"
"When you look around here—this shrine, these streets—what is it you see?"
More than mortar and wood, obviously. Taylor sat in an empty chair near Baachan and considered it, while Sunny moved over to press against her knees. "All the work that's gone into it, I guess? The time put in, and how much things are different here now."
"Mm." The old woman nodded, then turned to Taylor. "Let me tell you what I see: I see change, Miko. I see growing things, I see people—young people and old people—making things change. I listen to Honoka-chan smiling, telling me her Souta isn't causing so much trouble these days. I listen to my son, at last wanting to take chances. All these things, this old woman never thought she'd see again."
Her eyes were sad, but saying this, Baachan smiled. "You do good work, Miko. Thank you for coming here. And thank you, Sunny." The old woman's smile turned wry and knowing. She reached into her purse and drew out a folded bundle of tissue paper. "Here, for your collection."
Sunny took the small offering before Taylor could, her tail twapping against the ground in a wag. The wolf stretched out her neck and shoved her furry head under Baachan's now-empty hand, and the old woman rubbed her ears fondly.
When Baachan had left, her segway a distant vrrrrrrr, Sunny took the tissues with her up into the shrine proper, and waited for Taylor to open up her zodiac box. The small handful of beads poured in with a gentle clicking. Taylor closed the box back up and picked tissue lint away from Sunny's mouth, while she eyed the box lid and the characters over the newly-filled hutch.
Inoshishi, the boar.
* * *
Yuuta grumbled and swore under his breath, the curses misting in the cold pre-dawn air. Not that it was saying much, with the lateness of the year, but it was still well before Winslow would open its doors. He was only here to finish up a math project, but it wasn't until he'd gotten off the bus and started walking that it occurred to him that, if the staff and janitors hadn't yet arrived, the school doors might well be locked. He might have to spend an hour or so waiting for someone to show up.
Ugh. What a way to start the week.
Yuuta tromped up to one of the side doors and gave the handle an experimental tug. To his surprise, it opened. The teen didn't let go of the handle. The inside of the building was dark, the lights and probably heat still turned off, so he hadn't expected the door to be unlocked… Yuuta leaned in, and took a closer look. There was a piece of packing tape over the door's lock, keeping the tumblers pressed. Not even Winslow kept doors like that on purpose. Yuuta shouldered his overstuffed and straining backpack a little higher, then touched the switchblade in his back pocket, to confirm it was there before he crept inside.
Schools are spooky in the dark. They're built like prisons when they're in poor areas like this, only with an added layer of decoration in the form of sports posters, and school newspapers that nobody read, and worn linoleum on the floor. Yuuta's shoe squeaked and he winced. When nothing dove out of the shadows at him, he wiped his soles on the bottom of his pants' legs and continued, this time much quieter. He cursed himself for being a scaredy-cat, but it didn't stop him from sneaking.
He was glad for his caution, a few hallways further in, as he made for his locker.
He was right near a turn in the hall when he heard scraping, and a light grunt of effort. Yuuta stopped and pressed up against the wall, then peeked carefully around the corner. Over by the window was someone else, currently taking a prybar to one of the outside windows. The person—short, but he couldn't quite tell who—had already gotten the actual window open, but they were working at the barrier of wire mesh that Winslow had put in place of actual bars. Breaking and entering was a bigger concern than fire safety, it seemed.
"And you're sure this will work?" The person—a girl—asked.
"Yes, just as I said. I can open the doors just fine, if you'll let me in." Oh, shit. There were two girls, not one, and the second was actually outside. The first grunted again, swore, and finally broke a corner of the mesh away from the window frame. It was short work to tear the rest of it away, letting the second girl climb in. It was hard to see in the low light, but she looked like a blonde. Maybe pretty, but with a mouth set just slightly too wide to be striking. And she was dragging in a garbage bag, tightly closed, and full of something that couldn't be very solid or heavy.
"Great!" The first one sighed, and turned— oh shit, oh shit Yuuta knew that one. That crazy redhead that tried to get Souta suspended. "Ugh, I swear I can smell that stuff already. Let's do this quick and— hey!" Oh triple shit. She'd spotted him. Yuuta pushed away from the wall and stood straight. This was fine, nothing to be afraid of, just girls. Not ghosts or gangers or Baachan.
"Recognize you, crazy chick. The hell are you doing here?"
"None of your goddamn business!" The crazy chick—Emma, right?—snapped at him. "Just go away!"
"Yeah, maybe it isn't. Maybe it is. What are you doin' breaking in before school?"
"I said, none of your goddamn business, you fucking ABB scum!" Emma bared her teeth at him, like a cornered rat. Yuuta just frowned. This chick had a long way to go before she was intimidating. The girl behind her, on the other hand… Yuuta felt his skin crawl a little. He'd never met her and she still looked a little too familiar. And she was staring at him like she knew he had a knife in his pocket.
"That just makes me think it is. You after Taylor again?" Emma reeled back like he'd slapped her. "Man, what'd the Miko ever do to you, anyway?"
"What'd she do? What'd she do?! Nothing! She did NOTHING! She never did ANYTHING!"
"...ooooohkay. And uh, what about your friend? What's her beef?"
"I'm Karen. I'm a much better friend than Taylor."
"She's Karen," Emma parroted, "and she's a much better friend than Taylor."
Oh fuckdamnit that had to be a red flag about something. "Never met her. I don't think she goes to this school." Yuuta gripped his backpack's strap a little tighter. 'Karen' smiled at him, her mouth stretching more than just a little too wide. Then her eyes widened, mirroring his, and her warped mouth turned down in an exaggerated snarl. Yuuta saw what was definitely not teeth. He reached for his knife.
Emma finally clued in to some flicker of self-preservation instinct, or maybe she just heard the hiss as the spider-woman's pincer-like jaws spread wide. She turned, saw, and screamed.
The youkai's illusion crumbled, the spiderwebs she'd wrapped around the crazy chick not quite strong enough to immobilize her prey, but the shock and fear apparently was. Emma screamed again, the sound jarring Yuuta just enough to override common sense. He braced his feet, then heaved his backpack at the spider. The overstuffed bag slammed into the spirit hard enough to break the already-failing zippers, spilling Yuuta's books and papers all over the hallway. Freed of the weight, the teen reached forward and grabbed Emma's wrist, then pulled.
The spider-woman reached for her escaping prey, but stopped as the papers tumbling around her feet began to smoke. His folder full of the abandoned ofuda the Miko had made, weeks ago, had begun to smoulder, the visible glimpses of ink taking on a sullen glow. The youkai hissed, and kicked at them, the motion dislodging a different folder from the paper pile— this one with the spare party flyers. Yuuta saw the glow even through the folder's cover.
"Fucking run!" He tugged on Emma's arm nearly hard enough to dislocate it, and pulled the shrieking girl away from the window and the widow. Not ten feet away and the hallway lit up with an oddly silent explosion, ribbons of light peeling away from the ruin of his backpack like someone had opened up a can of Legend. Yuuta heard the youkai shriek, and kept running.
He didn't really get far, trying to drag along the crazy chick and all, but once they reached the other end of the hallway Yuuta looked back. There was a smoking mess on the floor near the open window, a few spare cobwebs drifting from the ceiling, and no youkai. Yuutra tried to even out his breathing, and checked the other directions of the hallway; there was nothing.
Okay. Okay. This was fine. He needed to— needed to get his phone, and call up some of the guys, and get this mess cleaned before the Miko saw it. Or the teachers, he supposed. Lucky he had his phone in his pocket, not his bag. Yuuta tried to reach for it, and ran into a bit of a problem.
"Uh— hey. Let go." Emma whimpered, the girl's eyes wide and empty with shock. She was clinging to his arm like a barnacle. "I mean it. Off. Let— let go. I need to—" Oh, no. Yuuta tried, unsuccessfully, to pry the girl off of him. He eventually managed to at least reach his phone, but it was with a heavy heart that he thumbed the contacts list, because now there was only one thing he could do.
The phone rang, then picked up with an ominous click. Yuuta sighed. "Baachan, there's a crying girl attached to my arm, and she won't let go. What do I do?"
"Yuuta, what you do to her?"
"Nothing! There was a— a thing! She got attacked, and, uh… crying."
"Then you bring her home, you silly boy." Click.
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- Location
- Saof Afreekah
This is the bestest Christmas present everrrrrr. DoG bless us, indeed!
I'm just so in love with this fic. The Baachans, and Lung getting doG-smacked, and Oni Lee regrowing his soul, and the doG-damned shenanigans, andandand EVERYTHING. It's just beautiful.
Thank you, @UnwelcomeStorm. Thank you for the happiness you've given us.
I'm just so in love with this fic. The Baachans, and Lung getting doG-smacked, and Oni Lee regrowing his soul, and the doG-damned shenanigans, andandand EVERYTHING. It's just beautiful.
Thank you, @UnwelcomeStorm. Thank you for the happiness you've given us.
Someone watched a certain anime oneshot I will not name because of its horrible false advertising, I see.
(And awwww.)
(And awwww.)
Richardson
CAN YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING?
- Location
- Yes
Oh SHIT.
*Rolls out da Escelate-o-Meter. It broke!*
*Rolls out da Escelate-o-Meter. It broke!*
First she's saved from the ABB, then she's saved by the ABB.
Poor Emma is going to end up with a complex at this rate...
Poor Emma is going to end up with a complex at this rate...
kairuf
(Verified Kaiger) (Not the Siberian)
- Location
- The land of Potatoes
One of theses is not like the other...(hint, it's the gangers, they're nowhere near as terrifying)
You think schools are creepy, try churches or hospitals
Oh dear.
OH Dear oh dear oh dear...I was not expecting this
Fantastic description there.
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Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
*It_begins.gif*
Think something might be missing here.
by to lick not by lick
TortugaGreen
Constantly out of the loop
- Pronouns
- She/Her
This continues to be an incredibly heartwarming fic, especially as one for Worm. Nice job.
- Location
- The Great Beyond
- Pronouns
- He/She/They
Bomb summon get, just in time for the monsters.
Spirit of festivals, as it were...
- Location
- Italy
I'm pretty sure that the shards, Scion and every other person on the face of the planet are going to go "WTF"
- Location
- Pale Blue Dot
"ABB Bomber" was fated to happen. How exactly it happened? Much better than in canon.
Then they will want to join in. Because Conflict and Data. I suspect Miko will find it surprisingly easy to recruit cape assistance to fight theese things.
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- Location
- The Land of Many Bregrets
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Is this a Christmas update or a Halloween update; either way, it's got the seasonal spirit!
If only you knew someone of sufficient purity to work at a shrine. Someone with real estate experience.
How many Asians are there?
Attacking a Tinker in their workshop is widely regarded to be less foolish than attacking Miko during Tea Time.
I think that Velocity's power makes it so the faster he is moving, the less effectively he can resist weebing out.
It's almost like Armsmaster doesn't like you, and he sets the patrol assignments.
Commandeering a Mover, obviously.
It takes faith and gratitude, mixes them together, and produces Shaker: Yes.
The Wards think it's a parahuman ability. Taylor thinks it's arts and crafts. Lung is worried that it's religion.
At one point, people saw Kid Win riding Baachan's segway while Sunny carried the hoverboard on her back.
Now that the Empire isn't ruining things all the time, Lung is no longer trapped in a downward spiral of clothing destruction.
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- Location
- Malaysia
That Dauntless scene... was Ammy hunting youkai? It's weird, the way she was scouting the docks. And she was scouting wasn't she? Except she missed a few. It was said that spirits prefer to approach people in great stress, and Emma was pretty stressed especially after Sophia was removed from Winslow and Brockton Bay entirely. The presence of 'Karen' nailed that, since she must be pretty isolated after Sophia's gone and her freakout in the cafeteria. That ofuda ripping from Winslow must be her with suggestion from her new 'friend'. I wonder what's the content of the plastic bag(?) whatever nefarious deeds she planned for Taylor.
Schools, and hospitals and any buildings of the same nature are terrifying at night because it was usually a very lively place, filled with people. The moment all those people left, there's these echoes, expectations of there should be people here but there isn't. I find that to be pretty scary, the dark atmosphere helps too.
I was actually watching Extra History videos before reading this and the narrative of the videos actually fit Taylor's POV, it's hilarious. The fact that people actually thought Taylor got the power to grant wishes from the emas is even more so. Pretty sure she translated their words differently from the actual context. I find it weird as well, until I remembered that this is a world where parahumans are real and not a figment of an author's imagination.
And, really Yuuta. You're in an empty school, with a shell-shocked person hanging on to your arm after a strange incident where you almost got killed (maybe). The rational thing would be retreating to familiar/safer grounds, i.e. your home. If it was me, I would sure as hell bolted out of there almost immediately.
Schools, and hospitals and any buildings of the same nature are terrifying at night because it was usually a very lively place, filled with people. The moment all those people left, there's these echoes, expectations of there should be people here but there isn't. I find that to be pretty scary, the dark atmosphere helps too.
I was actually watching Extra History videos before reading this and the narrative of the videos actually fit Taylor's POV, it's hilarious. The fact that people actually thought Taylor got the power to grant wishes from the emas is even more so. Pretty sure she translated their words differently from the actual context. I find it weird as well, until I remembered that this is a world where parahumans are real and not a figment of an author's imagination.
And, really Yuuta. You're in an empty school, with a shell-shocked person hanging on to your arm after a strange incident where you almost got killed (maybe). The rational thing would be retreating to familiar/safer grounds, i.e. your home. If it was me, I would sure as hell bolted out of there almost immediately.
It's not paranoia if it's true. But relaxed you go.
She's a kami, of course she had books on that.
Certain miko-fox in Yokosuka Base: AH-CHOO!
She had good reasons, but, well, hopefully someone didn't getting bitten on ass. Or windpipe, as it stands.
...Okay, hopefully nothing... wrong... happens.... (and NO! Stop sniggering, Murphy-san!)
Awww. Come on, Danny, be more proactive! Prove me right!
Well, OF COURSE. Or, as some says, cult. But your cult is being nice and not being obnoxious zealots, so fine.
Taylor, you're just too nice-
-You can at least ask them to help you do the cleaning thingies.
Of course. We have it better than your usual Western Grandma, they usually good with cookies. Only cookies.
Ours are good with everything.
Purity feels a tug in The Force, into some kind of legit, helpful endeavour (Her Shard fight tooth and nail against The Force, but, well, The Force).
"And no, this is not because Baachan has the best fried dumpling I ever had in my life"
"...Okay, maybe a little."
Well, your Baachan will be fine. Your pops, in the other hand....
Be Careful What You Wish For, they say....
Baachan Collectives know no bounds!
Meanwhile, just outside the Shrine vicinity and hidden from most view, a group of sparrows in commando gear is watching. The leader considering calling favors on Skipper & Co., but they had trouble on understanding "Tea = Be Courteous"
Ah well. Those SAS magpies already there, this should be fine.
Velocity is the best Honorary Grandkids.
Lung, at this point, knowing better than to pick a fight with Baachan Collectives.
SOCIAL LINKS, START!
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- Location
- United States
"At this point"? Lung is native Japanese! He grew up knowing to never mess with Obaasans! Did you ever see him disrespect old ladies in canon? I think not!
Anyways, we get our first explicit super-natural conflict (as opposed to super-natural vs parahuman). And it's through Yuuta.
You know, Yuuta's scene and his inner monologue make me think of him as that type of anime protagonist who's the only normal person pulled into the craziness and tries to stay sane and uninvolved but keeps getting dragged in, sometimes because he just can't not help, even if its to save someone he dislikes. Am I the only one getting that feeling?
Fine, correction: Before this: courtesy. After... these: certainty.
- Location
- Wellington, New Zealand
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I think it was said that Velocity is just really interested in other cultures. Put him around a bunch of German immigrants and he'd be trying out their food and practising their language too. Repeat for any other group you put him near.