MaimakteriAnn
(Verified Sleepy)
- Pronouns
- She/Her/Dr
... What do you think "I don't care what you do as long as you don't hurt people" refers to man?
Contractual Villainy
- Thread starter Sandy River DL
- Start date
Evilreadermaximu
Unimpressed Asgard
That she's an unknown parahuman, and that she doesn't care what she does so long as Taylor doesn't make more work for her. That's something that can be applied to Heroes and Villains. Doesn't mean that she's figured out that she's the new villain yet.
Especially given that the homeless would be a lot more likely to end up in a situation to trigger than the average joe, and just how bad of an idea telling a suspected villain, to their face, that you've figured out who they are beneath the mask is.
MaimakteriAnn
(Verified Sleepy)
- Pronouns
- She/Her/Dr
So she's figured out Taylor is a villain, but not put homeless new parahuman girl together with new villain girl steals food and rants about being homeless in the blizzard?
Evilreadermaximu
Unimpressed Asgard
Assuming she went "hey this person is clearly a villain and not just a parahuman I've haven't heard of." Then sure.
But in any case, I really don't have any further interest in discussing a comment I made almost a year ago.
Sandy River DL
(Verified Destroyer Leader)
- Location
- Lake Michigan
- Pronouns
- Her/She
An interesting realization just occurred to me about this Taylor. Aside from being completely broken, her power actually fits natural triggers pretty well. It relates to her circumstances quite well while also solving none of her core problems. Of course, natural triggers don't give the parahuman a way to move past the problems...
- Location
- US
Cauldron secretly gave her a placebo; Contessa pathed it so that the vial happened a little before the trigger happened so they could claim credit and get her indebted to them.
After all, it's not like her powers are letting her move past it; she's still stuck in survival, and looking for people to help her.
I'm going to be honest, after reading through everything I just can't get into this. I ended up skimming through a lot of it because it was bogged down by incredibly boring details that make no logical sense and spends time on things that could be easily done with a timeskip so we can get to the stuff that is actually interesting and matters.
If this is how 90% percent of the fic is going to be I'm out. Its the reading equalivient to watching paint dry at this point.
I thought we were supposed to be reading a Tinker!Taylor Nemesis story. Not Taylor plays Civilization on another Earth while barely making any progress because she's intentionally crippling her progress for illogical reasons.
Especially when she should be using any means to make the tools needed to bypass the starting Tinker limits so she has the tools and tech to outfit herself so she isn't vulnerable like any Tinker would. No mention of any Tinker fugues either which is odd in and of itself.
Anyway I'm out, good luck to you though.
If this is how 90% percent of the fic is going to be I'm out. Its the reading equalivient to watching paint dry at this point.
I thought we were supposed to be reading a Tinker!Taylor Nemesis story. Not Taylor plays Civilization on another Earth while barely making any progress because she's intentionally crippling her progress for illogical reasons.
Especially when she should be using any means to make the tools needed to bypass the starting Tinker limits so she has the tools and tech to outfit herself so she isn't vulnerable like any Tinker would. No mention of any Tinker fugues either which is odd in and of itself.
Anyway I'm out, good luck to you though.
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Same here! This is still among my top fics to read, hoping it comes back some day ^..^
Sandy River DL
(Verified Destroyer Leader)
- Location
- Lake Michigan
- Pronouns
- Her/She
We're working on it. Just need to clear some other ideas from the queue and work around some RL complications.Well, I for one am eagerly awaiting new chapters, so disregard what that guy just said. Please keep writing.
Lt Amanda Wallis
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MaimakteriAnn
(Verified Sleepy)
- Pronouns
- She/Her/Dr
Yeah. I am so down for more of this. The social moves being made are really interesting.
she's a vial Cape dude. She doesn't have shard fuck with mind go brrr. That's the point of cauldron at all.
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Sandy River DL
(Verified Destroyer Leader)
- Location
- Lake Michigan
- Pronouns
- Her/She
Just gonna note that there's dates in the story for a reason. Tay's had powers for a few days. And has explicitly stated plans to skip over things by going through ToyBox, using her existing tools, and hitting stores. But then, what should I expect from someone who admitted to just skimming the story for goofy antics? And clearly ignored the statement that this is a jaded Taylor.
If you don't like my criticism of your story's progression, getting too bogged down in the details, when timeskips and small expositions sprinkled about would work better, so you don't end up having to spend 10+ chapters actually getting to the place that people actually came for on the premise.
That's fine. It's your fic and you can do as you like, I've already said I'm out and good luck to you.
But don't be suprised if other people don't wish to spend 10-15 chapters actually getting to the main hook of a Nemesis type story or spend an inordinate amount of time on the type of set up that is best handled with timeskips.
Cause as of 5 chapters in, this fic has the feel of barely making any progress at all. Going by the day by day route in the set up phase, bogs down the story to the point people will lose interest if there is no payoff, which is why timeskips are used. Especially if you don't update that type of story on a regular basis like a weekly serial for example.
Compared to other fics like Nemesis itself just to use the titucular example, which already had the set up done and began getting into the main story by the time its 5th chapter came out. This story has barely had any progression for the amount of chapters it has. As I mentioned above, using the day to day model only works if you have a regular update schedule of maybe 2 chapters weekly.
My suggestion to you would be to add a note in the summary that states its a slow burn type fic. That it is going to take a while to get to the main focus of the story.
That way people actually know what they are getting into. Rather than having them come in and realize this is going to be taking a while to get to the actual main story they came in for.
Anyway good luck to you but slow burns aren't my cup of tea.
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Sandy River DL
(Verified Destroyer Leader)
- Location
- Lake Michigan
- Pronouns
- Her/She
When the 'feedback' is 'not pulling shit out of nowhere is illogically holding back', authors tend to get snippy. Fact of life. I tagged the story as 'survival' for the simple reason that it plays a big part in the story. Don't like that? Then just don't click on the stories with that tag.
I'm not BeaconHill, and have a different writing style. I'm a strong believer in show, don't tell when it comes to things, and not getting into detail is a great way to end up with plot-holes and deus-ex-machinas everywhere.
I also notice that you've casually ignored how it was pointed out how many of your initial complaints were address in the first chapter in favor of just making me out to be unreasonable towards progression critique. And you even talk about about things like '10-15 chapters actually getting to the main hook' when only four chapters and an interlude have been posted. Then made the interlude out to be a full chapter too.
TL;DR, don't criticize a story if you haven't actually read the thing. Skim critiquing is, quite frankly, an insult.
If people feel the need to skim parts of it, its cause they are losing interest in favor of looking for the parts that actually moves the story along or weren't hooked from the start.
Also doesn't mean they didn't read it, just skipped to the parts that actually seem like progression after reading a bit into the details for about a few paragraphs and seeing that its just small details that could be better explained in timeskips or small sprinkles of exposition over time, and still get to the same place.
I'm not saying you are, just using that one as an example. The problem with getting into detail is something a lot of authors have a problem with. Either they show too little and introduces plotholes and deus-ex-machinas as you've pointed out or they go into too much detail and slow down their story to the point people are just wondering when the plot is going to actually progress further. Its a delicate balance that is truthfully hard to work with.
That being said, this story is wandering into the too much detail side of that spectrum and thus story progession got bogged down in the set up. That was honestly my main problem with it.
Interludes can and usually do progress a story along, just from a different POV. So yes, they are usually treated as full chapters to.
After this post I'm just not going to respond as our views on story progression differ but as I've said good luck to you. As I said your free to do as you like I'm not invested in this story one way or the other. As its not my cup of tea. Only reason I came back was to reply to your 1st post. Either way doesn't matter to me.
MaimakteriAnn
(Verified Sleepy)
- Pronouns
- She/Her/Dr
Cool. Could you just, like, go away or something then?
You already arent reading it, so there is no reason the author should listen to any of your advice. And I'm well sick of getting excited by notifies for this fic, then seeing that it's just more of mks having a moan.
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Sandy River DL
(Verified Destroyer Leader)
- Location
- Lake Michigan
- Pronouns
- Her/She
Well, with any luck the next notification after this should be Neolithic V. 'Cause it's almost done~
MaimakteriAnn
(Verified Sleepy)
- Pronouns
- She/Her/Dr
Excellent. I'm intrigued by the idea of Contessa taking a more open hand in events. Presumably because the promising power that might handle a blindspot already knows about Cauldron and Contessa can be more open about it, but it's an intriguing idea to follow in a less 'lizard nonsense go brrr" kinda fic.
Honorguard Ra
(Verified Lizard Dude)
*Happy lizard noises* I knew reading a big story from start to finish would build a nice backlog. So happy I'll get to read more of this in the future! Don't let the naysayers get to you. ALL AHEAD FLANK!
Neolithic V
Sandy River DL
(Verified Destroyer Leader)
- Location
- Lake Michigan
- Pronouns
- Her/She
We're back baby!
Brockton Bay, Earth Bet, Jan 7, 2011.
"Weren't we just getting me a coat?" I asked Amy, ensconced in the changing room stalls. It was not a whine, and any claims to the contrary were nothing but lies. I was a self-respecting supervillain after all! Who hadn't even announced her name yet. And was currently shopping with two heroes. I quickly squashed that line of thought, giving myself a panic attack over my situation was a bad idea, what with the need to explain what happened. "I neither want nor can accommodate a bunch of the latest fashion!"
"We're shopping with my sister. If we set out to buy a few pairs of socks, we end up with a half-dozen matched outfits. And that's only if she doesn't rope Dean into the trip," retorted the healer. "Just be glad she's allowed us to stay here, rather than dragging us around the store. Besides, it's not like we're making you pay for yourself."
An exhausted sigh came from the other stall. "It'd be a thousand times worse if we were actually at one of the Boardwalk shops like we'd planned, instead of the department store. Five times more expensive and we'd have to follow her around. I wouldn't have even suggested it if it weren't for Carol's text."
Pulling a garment out of the armload Vicky had shoved at me, I groaned. "Seriously? A sundress? It's winter! Why is this even in stock right now?"
Amy laughed, a surprisingly warm sound to it in spite of all the stress she held. "That's Vicky for you. She can and will find the oddest things when shopping, even if there is no reason for it to be there. Sundresses in January is actually fairly tame by her standards."
"Still! Sundress. Winter. Even if it's there, why grab it?" I asked. "Or is this some kind of joke?" I hoped not. Being the butt a joke from an actual hero was the last thing my self-esteem needed, even if I was planning on ditching Bet as soon as I could manage to survive on Tǩóymos.
"She probably thought it'd look good on you and failed to consider the weather. She does that at times, even though her powers don't actually protect her from the cold," came the reply, followed by the rustling of fabric. "Then again, she was pretty weather tolerant even before, so it could well just be quirk of hers. Anyway, if you don't like something she picked out, just put it aside and stick with what you're most comfortable with. Vicky means well, but requires a firm hand to keep her from using people as dress-up dolls."
Letting out a sigh, I began digging through the array of clothes again, in search of something somewhat acceptable in the mass of overpriced fabric. Warm weather items would be nice, but with my companions not being aware of my housing it'd be a poor decision to get any. Mild as Brockton Bay winters were, it was still New England and not a tropical paradise. Undershirts might be manageable though, especially if they were the athletic variety, as those could be taken as part of layering against the cold. Getting things that were tighter fitting probably wouldn't be too much of an issue, for the same reason. Practical, even if not to my normal taste.
I shifted a little. Might need more underwear too, as walking around with a wet-
"If you were in better circumstances, I'd suggest grabbing a pair or two of heels."
The non-sequitur from Amy utterly derailed my train of thought.
"Um, what?" I squeaked. "Heels? But… why?"
"Because they'd emphasize your legs Taylor," the other girl replied, a grin evident in her voice. "You've got nice legs and I've heard that being able to show off can improve self-confidence."
Oh Winds, was she flirting with me? Why was a hero flirting with me? I'm a villain with the figure of a plank and a too wide mouth, not an Amazon or model or whatever heroes are supposed to hook up with. And on top of that, we'd only just met! What flipped her from the bitter healer to… this?
"Taylor?"
No, it had to be a trick or her fucking with my head. There was no way anyone would be actually complementing me about anything without there being a barb hidden somewhere. Coming to Bet out of costume was a bad idea. Hausōs might be able to recruit people, but Taylor Hebert was too pathetic even for her fucked-up excuse for a father to care about. I should just slip out and-
"Taylor!"
The sharp mixture of concern and fear in Amy's voice cut through my whirling thoughts like a knife.
"I'm sorry if I hit a nerve, but please say something! Don't just shut down and go time bomb on me. I really, really, don't want to have to heal anyone up right now. Especially not with how many problems you going off out of costume would cause both of us."
Taking several slow, deep, breaths, I choked out a response. "Sorry about that. I… haven't had any positive interactions with people my age in a long time. This… it's too much, too soon, and too different for me to handle…"
"So you're a fucked up pile of trauma," stated the healer. "Welcome to the parahuman club. We have zero benefits, the hours are utter trash, and only the Protectorate actually have steady pay."
A moment later, Amy's hand emerged from under the stall divider.
"If you make skin contact, I can help calm you down. You'd be surprised at how much can be done by messing with the endocrine system and is technically healing."
Sucking yet another deep breath, I all but collapsed to the floor and took the other girl's hand. Choking back a sob, I gasped out "Why are you being so nice to me? I'm nothing and a nobody, not worth your time or money…"
"Because I am a selfish bitch who's enjoying the presence of someone that treats me like a fellow human being instead of a video game medkit or a celebrity," came the blunt reply. "Do you have any idea how it feels to be treated as nothing more than a power interface?"
I did. Oh, how I did.
"Also," Amy added, "You have a tropical hideout somewhere isolated. That yeast infection was a rather exotic giveaway."
My heart skipped a beat. One of my most important secrets, found by touch. If the microbes of Tǩóymos were that distinctive, then Armsmaster or Kid Win could whip up some tinkery bioscanner and then I'm screwed…
"None of that," the healer chided as the emerging panic vanished. "We all have secrets. Yours is that you have a safe haven, mine is that I'm not sure how much longer I can keep going before I break."
Her hand squeezed mine. "Not going to go into specifics, just like I'm not digging into your powers, but I am so much more than 'just' a healer and the weight of what I can do is wearing on me as much as the hours I put in at the hospital and the pressures of being in New Wave. So, if it's not too much of an imposition by someone you just met, could you make a place for me to bug out to when I inevitably reach a tipping point?"
I couldn't help it. I slumped against the divider, giggling as I squeezed her hand back. "Of course I'll make room for you. Things aren't great, and you'll probably need to still do some healing on occasion, but it's all I can do to repay you for helping me."
A soft laugh came from the other stall. "Thank you. It's nice to know there's someone to pull me out before I can become a monster, so I would say we're even if you want to keep track."
Before either of us could say more, Glory Girl's aura washed over us, sending us scrabbling to stand before the older girl arrived. Clearly neither of us wanted her to jump to any conclusions about what happened, or, worse, start prying. As much as having Vicky's strength and flight would be useful to me, what I'd seen of her so far was leaving a lot to be desired. The blonde was proving to be a brainy airhead, as contradictory as that was, and the effects of her shaker power were decidedly suboptimal. That she seemed to have no off switch for it was worse. Who knew what kind of consequences long-term exposure to that kind of power had, even if it wasn't a Master influence. Best avoid.
"I come bearing cute skirts!" declared the heroine as she entered the changing area.
Groaning, I called back "It's January Odysseus. We need pants or legging for warmth, and I especially need practical clothing. Go and find us seasonally appropriate ware." Draping the most objectionable garments over the door, I then added "And take the dresses with you!"
"Um, what?" I could almost hear the gears in the older girl's head locking as my words broke her shopping buzz.
"It's a classical reference Vicky," I stated, rolling my eyes. "The Aeneid's 'beware Greeks bearing gifts' regarding the wooden horse Odysseus came up with. Just with you and clothes." Now it might just be because I'm a Lit Prof's daughter, but I'd thought that that connection at least had made it into pop culture. Ah well, not like it really matters much.
A sigh came from outside the stall. "Fine, fine. Rain on my parade with weird literary references. It's not like you can have fun trying out new styles or anything…"
"You and Eric are the only people I know who shop for pleasure over all else," Amy replied from her own stall. "And do I need to remind you that we're here with a list instead of on our own time?" Then, muttering in a way that I probably wouldn't have even noticed if not for my powers, added "How did I ever fall for you…?"
Well, that wasn't good. Still, at least they aren't blood siblings, right? At least I'm pretty sure that I was remembering that phenotype stuff properly. Blonde being recessive and Amy's the only brunette in her family. Anyway, having a crush on someone she considers family probably wasn't helping her mental state.
Maaaybe I should try talking the girl into joining me sooner instead of later, as there didn't seem to be much left of her idiomatic rope…
"Free at least!" I cried as we finally exited the department store. That had a much more painful experience than I'd been expect, especially after the dressing room exchange. How the Dallon family missed this situation developing, I had no idea.
Amy, meanwhile, just rolled her eyes. "That was a positively laid-back shopping trip by Vicky's standards. I keep telling you that, and it doesn't seem to stick."
"You're just used to it," I grumbled in retort. "I get wanting to check up on new products and the like, but she spent five minutes comparing two identical dresses. You guys can't possibly have that kind of time to spare for this trip, can you?"
Letting out a sigh, I hefted the two large bags Vicky passed me at the check-out with a slight, and exaggerated, grunt. "Well, anyways, thanks for getting me these, but I need to get going now. Supplies to check, shelter to improve-"
"You're having lunch with us."
I opened my mouth to protest, but Amy cut me off with a glare, clearly in full healer mode. "You've been malnourished for a month Taylor, been healed, and I know you haven't eaten yet today. So, you're eating with us before your blood sugar levels crash."
I wasn't that bad off, was I? Between my scrounging and Cauldron's providence I should still be just undernourished right?
A surprisingly strong hand wrapped around my wrist. "Come on, there's a decent all-you-can-eat place near here, and you're going to keep at it until I say otherwise."
Vicky, who had been hanging back silently util that point, then chined in. "You know Ames, you normally aren't so… uh, hands on? With people you heal, so what's special here?"
The brunette shot her sister a look. "Most of my patients," she practically drawled, "aren't in a position where I can bully them into not getting hospitalized. I have the opportunity, so I'm taking it."
And certainly a hefty dose of enlighten self-interest as well. Not that I expected her to mention that at this point of course, as the girl had proved to be remarkably similar to myself, at least so far. Seriously, what the hell was going on in New Wave?
You know what? I'm not sure I actually cared. Whatever it was, it'd gotten me the nearest thing to a friend since Emma, and one I was pretty sure wasn't likely to betray me given her own lack of friends.
With that in mind, I followed the brunette's lead and began walking down the street with a bemused looking Glory Girl trailing in our wake. As much as I found Amy's statement about my health-status hard to grasp, a big and proper meal sounded great, especially with how much work I had to do. If she was planning what I thought she might, then I might just return to Tǩóymos with fat reserves, which I'd definitely been running low on.
Of course, as with many things, my enthusiasm began faltering when the healer dragged me into a somewhat glitzy-looking restaurant called the Rowan Grove. It wasn't actually a bad place from what I'd heard, but rather one of the 'healthy fast food' operations that kept popping up whenever some rich guy saw an article about obesity, and this one was connected to either the Stansfields or the Anders. Probably the former, if the shift in Vicky's aura was anything to go by, as she was dating the heir.
I flinched as we entered the building, the smells from the kitchen assailing my enhanced nose like a wave. Health food? Try high blood pressure and liver damage if the overpowering scents of salt and iron were anything to go by. I really hoped they had actual food here, not just overprocessed meat 'substitutes' and fad veggies, or I'd leave regardless of what Amy said. Medical expert or not, I was not eating whatever abused plant matter they thought was food.
Vicky promptly peeled off towards the counter while Amy shoved me into a booth before making a bee-line for the buffet table. Slumping back in my seat, I felt the weight of events settle again. Never in a million years would I, even a week ago, have believed that I'd have a day like this. Not even when Emma and I had fantasized about getting powers and joining the Wards had I expected to have… mundane experiences with heroes. Being a villain just made it flat-out surreal.
I blinked, then started giggling. I was a villain, and I was working on building a village. Merciful Kyne, I'd made the term come full circle, bringing it back to being 'villager'. And I was totally going to use that when someone, preferably that narrow-minded bitch Brandish, calls me a villain. Etymology was so going to become as much a part of my schtick as ripping into the broken mess that people keep calling a social support system and needling Emma. Oh Winds this would be fun…
Returning my focus to the wider world, I caught sight of Amy carrying a plate loaded with… Huh. Baked cod, loaded potatoes, and liver? That'd actually be good, even if I wasn't particularly fond of liver. Plenty of nutrition there, and in forms I was honestly surprised to see in a place like this. The liver especially was more of a high-end restaurant dish than fast-food standard quick-and-cheap. Whatever, organ meat. So many useful things for a body, to the point that Arctic peoples could live entirely off of hunted animals without even a dite of edible greenery. Not that I'd be doing so myself, not if I could avoid it, but better to get used to eating it as that was rather normal in premodern life. Because good nutrition isn't to be passed on.
Anyway, to say that when my new benefactor set the plate in front of me, I fell on it like a starved wolf would be an exaggeration. I just barely managed to retain a semblance of table manners. Somehow.
What can I say? Spam and mixed fruit get old real fast, and I knew I hadn't been eating well for a month by this point.
So focused was I on getting the meal in that I almost missed Amy sitting down next to me and slipping a hand onto my neck. Almost. I half-choked on a buttery bacon spud before my throat shifted to maintain proper flow of food. Giving the healer a quick side-eye glare, I slowed my pace slightly to let her work her magic on my digestive tract and metabolism so I could make better use of the opportunity she'd given me. Winds, I missed having friends… Even if she was barely more than a casual acquaintance at this point.
As I finished off my pile of delicious people-fuel, Vicky settled on the bench opposite me with a plate of her own and, unsettlingly, a wide and loaded smile. My eyes narrowed. She wasn't…
"So," the blonde grinned, "why didn't you tell me you were into girls Ames? I'm sure I could've found you a leggy brunette…" And she was fucking wiggling her eyebrows.
The glare I leveled at the older girl probably paled in comparison to the one on Amy's face, though the healer's wasn't helped at all by the massive blush she was sporting. Like, I could almost feel the heat coming off her cheeks with how red she was.
Oh Winds, she was genuinely flirting with me earlier. I… really didn't know how to feel about that.
"I have no idea what you mean Vicky," she replied in a tone that wouldn't fool a stoned Merchant. So it rather obviously failed on her fully sober and apparently shipping-crazed sister.
"Yeah, and I speak Klingon. You kept checking out our new friend's butt and legs whenever you had a good view."
Why did Amy have to be blocking my way out of the booth? If she wasn't, I'd be able to escape this on the basis of getting more food…
A low groan escaped my throat as I trudged into my warehouse, laden with my shopping bags from earlier. That lunch had to have been the most awkward meal I'd ever had. Two long hours of alternating stomach stuffing by Amy and being mercilessly grilled about my preferences by the evilest villain in Brockton Bay. Well, second most evil. Vicky was still behind the Nazis of the Empire, as hostis humani generis are sort of automatically the worst.
Still, I'd come out of the experience with a new sort-of friend, quite a few useful supplies, and a belly fuller than it'd ever been, so it wasn't all bad. But I'd definitely be flagging the New Wave Alexandria Package as 'to be avoided if possible' because I was not interested in romance right now, and the blasted girl just would not take that for an answer.
Stupid meddling do-gooder heroes…
Grumbling under my breath, I climbed the stairs up to the old office to collect my stashed supplies from their hiding places. And promptly froze at the sight of a Cauldron portal snapping shut in the middle of the room. What were They up to this time?
Great. Now I'm sounding like fucking Void Cowboy. Thinking about a 'They' with a capital T and whatnot. Of course, I was dealing with an actual conspiracy of some sort, creating power-granting vials with unknown goals, so make of that what you will and all that. Still not a good sign though.
Sighing, I lifted one of the boxes I'd used to conceal my food from prying eyes and blinked. There on top of my spam tins was a small paperboard carton, with a vivid yellow band and a verdant background.
"Yorkshire Gold? I don't believe I ever told them I like tea, and even if I had, I'd have expected Earl Grey and not a brand I've never tried. Does anyone here even carry Yorkshire Tea? Isn't it a British brand?"
Eh, tea is tea. I'd still drink it even if it wasn't one I preferred…
"Shit, now I'm going to need to steal a kettle, teapot, and mug aren't I? Dammit Contessa!"
Shoving the tea into one of my bags along with the food, I hurriedly gathered up the other stashes and triggered my anchor. Hopefully the weather on Tǩóymos had improved since this morning, because I really didn't want to spend anymore time on Bet today…
Unnamed Location, Earth Tǩóymos, Jan 7, 2011.
A light mist was not really all that great, but it sure beat the frigid air of Brockton Bay, and was a far cry from the rain and oppressive humidity of this morning, so I wasn't going to complain. Setting down my collection of bags, I pulled out a pair of athletics shorts and a sports bra I'd acquired thanks to the Dallon sisters and quickly changed into them. Ah, breathable clothes…
Briefly reveling in the near-luxury of good and climate-appropriate clothing, I turned my attention to the crude but solid shelter/storehouse that'd been built yesterday. Thatched fronds wouldn't last for more than a few months, not with the methods I'd used, and the powerful tropical storms that hit regions like this. That sort of shoddy work wasn't something I liked, but as a temporary structure it'd do. No point in constructing something that could survive years or decades when it'd be torn down to make way for another, even more resilient, structure well before then.
Hm, I was going to be using Roman concrete for my primary structural material. While much of my aesthetic so far was rather a bit before their time, the Romans had a fair bit of experience building in hot, earthquake prone, areas and had some really nice-looking houses. Modeling my own work on theirs would make for a pleasant urban environment in my settlement. I'd need a good whitewash, preferably something enamel-like, to help protect the concrete and keep things cool, and maybe incorporate some Japanese elements into the architecture for flavor and additional durability…
Shaking my head, I started stowing my things inside the low-slung building. Woolgathering on how I'd design my capital could wait until I was secure enough to do it properly.
Once everything was properly put away, I stepped back out and set my drones on new tasks. One to check the near bank for suitability for terrace farming, and the other two for a wide-ranging general survey. Waypoints were set for the volcano on the western horizon and the mountains on the northern one, both being points of notable concern. With my site's elevation, flooding from monsoon rain on the slopes shouldn't be a problem, but that really depended on the geography of the Alexandria's valley. The volcano, however, was a more pressing issue to examine. It looked to be a fairly typical basaltic shield from what little I could see, but it could also easily be a low-profile stratovolcano and thus pose the possibility of turning my base into Pompeii if it were to go Krakatoa or Mt. St. Helens on me.
Probably should have checked on that earlier, but better to get that done before I got much further, as having to relocate again now, while a pain, would be easier than if I was more established. And having to start all over again would be a bitch if the worst happened. Assuming I survived that is. Which was probably a good bet, thinking about it. Cauldron was almost certainly monitoring me in some way, given the portal the first day, and likely wouldn't let me die to an eruption.
I didn't want to count on that though, especially since I'd owe them, one way or another.
Pushing that line of thought, along with a slight shudder at the idea of being watched, aside, I began making my way down towards the isthmus connecting to the bank. Giving those hot springs a look, then sourcing some flexible vines for lashing was the agenda for the moment. Though boat-building would have to come before a relaxing soak, if the latter turned out to be available.
Unnamed Location, Earth Tǩóymos, Jan 8, 2011.
Groaning softly, I clambered off the thick bed of leaves I'd tossed together the night before. Hitting a sporting goods store was definitely up there on my priories list, right alongside a hardware place. Having the sleeping bag I'd been bought yesterday helped, but foliage made for a terrible mattress when you were sore all over from building a large raft, and I hadn't had the chance to actually use the hot springs. Not that one of those thin foam pads would much better, but a few of them stacked on top of each other would be superior to dealing with the fragility of an air mattress.
Digging out a tin of spam and a couple of fruit cans, I sat down to eat, grabbing my helmet while doing so. Detaching the lower face plate, I slipped the rest of the device on and started reviewing the drone data while prying the chunk of spiced meat out of its container.
First was the farming suitability survey, which was showing sufficiently stable soil that I could comfortably terrace the back for farming. And that the land above the bank could be cultivated safely too, even if I were to clear-cut parts of it. Good, I'd have plenty of agricultural space then, meaning that I had the potential to support a meaningful population and even have a surplus of food.
Next was the as-yet unfinished report form the drone tasked with the volcano. This also contained good news, at least so far. The still nameless mountain was a fair bit farther away than I'd initially thought, being over eighty miles distant, and was steeper than typical shield volcano that, while certainly more explosive than I was entirely pleased about, was going to be safe for the foreseeable future. Barring any geological oddities that weren't found on Bet that is.
The survey of the Alexandria, however, merited a raised eyebrow. Rather than a meandering path marked with oxbow lakes, or a fairly simple course, the river flowed through a large lake approximately ten miles inland, hidden from my view by the planet's curvature and a high ridge line. A ridge line that had the telltale signs of being a crater rim.
I frowned at that, taking a sip of fruit juice as I studied the geography. If the river passed through it, rather than around, then it was probably an ancient impact crater. But I'd need more information to rule out it being a caldera. If it were, it'd pose a hazard to the entire region, and I'd have to ask a favor of Cauldron to relocate to a different continent to be out of the blast zone.
Zooming in on an outcrop on the rim, I let out a sigh of relief. My brief concern wasn't warranted. Eroded and plant-encrusted as it was, the rock bore the signs of having been bent and rolled back over itself, decisive evidence of it being an impact event thousands of years ago. Devastating, but not something that would be an issue in the future. Probably even was the source of at least some of the iron sand deposits in the area.
Setting aside the now empty cans, I stood and started gathering my caping equipment, issuing a recall order to the drones as I did so. The volcano's threat was, at this point, negligible and the lake mitigated any flooding hazard enough that mapping the river could be put off for a while. Probably whenever I ended up needing a hydroelectric dam or something.
I paused. Could I build something that large on my own? Then had to quickly shove down that train of thought before the urge to start sketching in the dirt got too strong. Now was not the time to work out how to make a dam building machine. There was a raid to plot and execute.
Brockton Bay, Earth Bet, Jan 8, 2011.
"Alright people! Here's the drill, you all go about your business and I go about mine. That happens, and all this will be is an interesting story to talk about around the water cooler, or whatever it is you do. I'm not the kind of villain who gets off on hurting people, and I'd very rather avoid doing so. Anyone have a problem with that?" I looked at the three customers and singular employee at the Ace Hardware with a critical eye. All of them stared at me for a few seconds, before collectively shrugging and returning to what they'd been doing before I'd kicked the doors open.
Excellent. Being seen as harmless was working out so far, even if I hadn't yet entered the public consciousness as being such yet.
Snagging a cart, I began making my way through the store towards the power tools. So many things there could be repurposed in surprising ways, like electric leaf blowers into draft fans for smelters and forges. From there, more basic tools were next, hammers, saws, and more. Anything I could get my hands on that could be made to serve my needs was piled in, and, where possible, shoved into one of several bags I'd found near the back.
Once I'd gathered as much as I could carry short distances, which took surprisingly little time, I turned back to the front. As I passed the checkout, the lone employee started waving at me.
"Miss?" He called. "Do you have a name I can put on the robbery report? It'll help with the insurance people if I can identify the villain in the paperwork beforehand."
I smiled under my helmet. Who knew paperwork would make my life easier? "I'm Hausōs. Spelt with a long 'o' diacritic."
With that said, I slipped out the doors, dashed into an alley just past the delivery bay, and unloaded the cart. Pushing it away, I hauled up my loot and, after a brief struggle, triggered my recall system.
Have at it guys. I'll swing by in the morning to handle replies and crosspost to SB.
Brockton Bay, Earth Bet, Jan 7, 2011.
"Weren't we just getting me a coat?" I asked Amy, ensconced in the changing room stalls. It was not a whine, and any claims to the contrary were nothing but lies. I was a self-respecting supervillain after all! Who hadn't even announced her name yet. And was currently shopping with two heroes. I quickly squashed that line of thought, giving myself a panic attack over my situation was a bad idea, what with the need to explain what happened. "I neither want nor can accommodate a bunch of the latest fashion!"
"We're shopping with my sister. If we set out to buy a few pairs of socks, we end up with a half-dozen matched outfits. And that's only if she doesn't rope Dean into the trip," retorted the healer. "Just be glad she's allowed us to stay here, rather than dragging us around the store. Besides, it's not like we're making you pay for yourself."
An exhausted sigh came from the other stall. "It'd be a thousand times worse if we were actually at one of the Boardwalk shops like we'd planned, instead of the department store. Five times more expensive and we'd have to follow her around. I wouldn't have even suggested it if it weren't for Carol's text."
Pulling a garment out of the armload Vicky had shoved at me, I groaned. "Seriously? A sundress? It's winter! Why is this even in stock right now?"
Amy laughed, a surprisingly warm sound to it in spite of all the stress she held. "That's Vicky for you. She can and will find the oddest things when shopping, even if there is no reason for it to be there. Sundresses in January is actually fairly tame by her standards."
"Still! Sundress. Winter. Even if it's there, why grab it?" I asked. "Or is this some kind of joke?" I hoped not. Being the butt a joke from an actual hero was the last thing my self-esteem needed, even if I was planning on ditching Bet as soon as I could manage to survive on Tǩóymos.
"She probably thought it'd look good on you and failed to consider the weather. She does that at times, even though her powers don't actually protect her from the cold," came the reply, followed by the rustling of fabric. "Then again, she was pretty weather tolerant even before, so it could well just be quirk of hers. Anyway, if you don't like something she picked out, just put it aside and stick with what you're most comfortable with. Vicky means well, but requires a firm hand to keep her from using people as dress-up dolls."
Letting out a sigh, I began digging through the array of clothes again, in search of something somewhat acceptable in the mass of overpriced fabric. Warm weather items would be nice, but with my companions not being aware of my housing it'd be a poor decision to get any. Mild as Brockton Bay winters were, it was still New England and not a tropical paradise. Undershirts might be manageable though, especially if they were the athletic variety, as those could be taken as part of layering against the cold. Getting things that were tighter fitting probably wouldn't be too much of an issue, for the same reason. Practical, even if not to my normal taste.
I shifted a little. Might need more underwear too, as walking around with a wet-
"If you were in better circumstances, I'd suggest grabbing a pair or two of heels."
The non-sequitur from Amy utterly derailed my train of thought.
"Um, what?" I squeaked. "Heels? But… why?"
"Because they'd emphasize your legs Taylor," the other girl replied, a grin evident in her voice. "You've got nice legs and I've heard that being able to show off can improve self-confidence."
Oh Winds, was she flirting with me? Why was a hero flirting with me? I'm a villain with the figure of a plank and a too wide mouth, not an Amazon or model or whatever heroes are supposed to hook up with. And on top of that, we'd only just met! What flipped her from the bitter healer to… this?
"Taylor?"
No, it had to be a trick or her fucking with my head. There was no way anyone would be actually complementing me about anything without there being a barb hidden somewhere. Coming to Bet out of costume was a bad idea. Hausōs might be able to recruit people, but Taylor Hebert was too pathetic even for her fucked-up excuse for a father to care about. I should just slip out and-
"Taylor!"
The sharp mixture of concern and fear in Amy's voice cut through my whirling thoughts like a knife.
"I'm sorry if I hit a nerve, but please say something! Don't just shut down and go time bomb on me. I really, really, don't want to have to heal anyone up right now. Especially not with how many problems you going off out of costume would cause both of us."
Taking several slow, deep, breaths, I choked out a response. "Sorry about that. I… haven't had any positive interactions with people my age in a long time. This… it's too much, too soon, and too different for me to handle…"
"So you're a fucked up pile of trauma," stated the healer. "Welcome to the parahuman club. We have zero benefits, the hours are utter trash, and only the Protectorate actually have steady pay."
A moment later, Amy's hand emerged from under the stall divider.
"If you make skin contact, I can help calm you down. You'd be surprised at how much can be done by messing with the endocrine system and is technically healing."
Sucking yet another deep breath, I all but collapsed to the floor and took the other girl's hand. Choking back a sob, I gasped out "Why are you being so nice to me? I'm nothing and a nobody, not worth your time or money…"
"Because I am a selfish bitch who's enjoying the presence of someone that treats me like a fellow human being instead of a video game medkit or a celebrity," came the blunt reply. "Do you have any idea how it feels to be treated as nothing more than a power interface?"
I did. Oh, how I did.
"Also," Amy added, "You have a tropical hideout somewhere isolated. That yeast infection was a rather exotic giveaway."
My heart skipped a beat. One of my most important secrets, found by touch. If the microbes of Tǩóymos were that distinctive, then Armsmaster or Kid Win could whip up some tinkery bioscanner and then I'm screwed…
"None of that," the healer chided as the emerging panic vanished. "We all have secrets. Yours is that you have a safe haven, mine is that I'm not sure how much longer I can keep going before I break."
Her hand squeezed mine. "Not going to go into specifics, just like I'm not digging into your powers, but I am so much more than 'just' a healer and the weight of what I can do is wearing on me as much as the hours I put in at the hospital and the pressures of being in New Wave. So, if it's not too much of an imposition by someone you just met, could you make a place for me to bug out to when I inevitably reach a tipping point?"
I couldn't help it. I slumped against the divider, giggling as I squeezed her hand back. "Of course I'll make room for you. Things aren't great, and you'll probably need to still do some healing on occasion, but it's all I can do to repay you for helping me."
A soft laugh came from the other stall. "Thank you. It's nice to know there's someone to pull me out before I can become a monster, so I would say we're even if you want to keep track."
Before either of us could say more, Glory Girl's aura washed over us, sending us scrabbling to stand before the older girl arrived. Clearly neither of us wanted her to jump to any conclusions about what happened, or, worse, start prying. As much as having Vicky's strength and flight would be useful to me, what I'd seen of her so far was leaving a lot to be desired. The blonde was proving to be a brainy airhead, as contradictory as that was, and the effects of her shaker power were decidedly suboptimal. That she seemed to have no off switch for it was worse. Who knew what kind of consequences long-term exposure to that kind of power had, even if it wasn't a Master influence. Best avoid.
"I come bearing cute skirts!" declared the heroine as she entered the changing area.
Groaning, I called back "It's January Odysseus. We need pants or legging for warmth, and I especially need practical clothing. Go and find us seasonally appropriate ware." Draping the most objectionable garments over the door, I then added "And take the dresses with you!"
"Um, what?" I could almost hear the gears in the older girl's head locking as my words broke her shopping buzz.
"It's a classical reference Vicky," I stated, rolling my eyes. "The Aeneid's 'beware Greeks bearing gifts' regarding the wooden horse Odysseus came up with. Just with you and clothes." Now it might just be because I'm a Lit Prof's daughter, but I'd thought that that connection at least had made it into pop culture. Ah well, not like it really matters much.
A sigh came from outside the stall. "Fine, fine. Rain on my parade with weird literary references. It's not like you can have fun trying out new styles or anything…"
"You and Eric are the only people I know who shop for pleasure over all else," Amy replied from her own stall. "And do I need to remind you that we're here with a list instead of on our own time?" Then, muttering in a way that I probably wouldn't have even noticed if not for my powers, added "How did I ever fall for you…?"
Well, that wasn't good. Still, at least they aren't blood siblings, right? At least I'm pretty sure that I was remembering that phenotype stuff properly. Blonde being recessive and Amy's the only brunette in her family. Anyway, having a crush on someone she considers family probably wasn't helping her mental state.
Maaaybe I should try talking the girl into joining me sooner instead of later, as there didn't seem to be much left of her idiomatic rope…
***
"Free at least!" I cried as we finally exited the department store. That had a much more painful experience than I'd been expect, especially after the dressing room exchange. How the Dallon family missed this situation developing, I had no idea.
Amy, meanwhile, just rolled her eyes. "That was a positively laid-back shopping trip by Vicky's standards. I keep telling you that, and it doesn't seem to stick."
"You're just used to it," I grumbled in retort. "I get wanting to check up on new products and the like, but she spent five minutes comparing two identical dresses. You guys can't possibly have that kind of time to spare for this trip, can you?"
Letting out a sigh, I hefted the two large bags Vicky passed me at the check-out with a slight, and exaggerated, grunt. "Well, anyways, thanks for getting me these, but I need to get going now. Supplies to check, shelter to improve-"
"You're having lunch with us."
I opened my mouth to protest, but Amy cut me off with a glare, clearly in full healer mode. "You've been malnourished for a month Taylor, been healed, and I know you haven't eaten yet today. So, you're eating with us before your blood sugar levels crash."
I wasn't that bad off, was I? Between my scrounging and Cauldron's providence I should still be just undernourished right?
A surprisingly strong hand wrapped around my wrist. "Come on, there's a decent all-you-can-eat place near here, and you're going to keep at it until I say otherwise."
Vicky, who had been hanging back silently util that point, then chined in. "You know Ames, you normally aren't so… uh, hands on? With people you heal, so what's special here?"
The brunette shot her sister a look. "Most of my patients," she practically drawled, "aren't in a position where I can bully them into not getting hospitalized. I have the opportunity, so I'm taking it."
And certainly a hefty dose of enlighten self-interest as well. Not that I expected her to mention that at this point of course, as the girl had proved to be remarkably similar to myself, at least so far. Seriously, what the hell was going on in New Wave?
You know what? I'm not sure I actually cared. Whatever it was, it'd gotten me the nearest thing to a friend since Emma, and one I was pretty sure wasn't likely to betray me given her own lack of friends.
With that in mind, I followed the brunette's lead and began walking down the street with a bemused looking Glory Girl trailing in our wake. As much as I found Amy's statement about my health-status hard to grasp, a big and proper meal sounded great, especially with how much work I had to do. If she was planning what I thought she might, then I might just return to Tǩóymos with fat reserves, which I'd definitely been running low on.
Of course, as with many things, my enthusiasm began faltering when the healer dragged me into a somewhat glitzy-looking restaurant called the Rowan Grove. It wasn't actually a bad place from what I'd heard, but rather one of the 'healthy fast food' operations that kept popping up whenever some rich guy saw an article about obesity, and this one was connected to either the Stansfields or the Anders. Probably the former, if the shift in Vicky's aura was anything to go by, as she was dating the heir.
I flinched as we entered the building, the smells from the kitchen assailing my enhanced nose like a wave. Health food? Try high blood pressure and liver damage if the overpowering scents of salt and iron were anything to go by. I really hoped they had actual food here, not just overprocessed meat 'substitutes' and fad veggies, or I'd leave regardless of what Amy said. Medical expert or not, I was not eating whatever abused plant matter they thought was food.
Vicky promptly peeled off towards the counter while Amy shoved me into a booth before making a bee-line for the buffet table. Slumping back in my seat, I felt the weight of events settle again. Never in a million years would I, even a week ago, have believed that I'd have a day like this. Not even when Emma and I had fantasized about getting powers and joining the Wards had I expected to have… mundane experiences with heroes. Being a villain just made it flat-out surreal.
I blinked, then started giggling. I was a villain, and I was working on building a village. Merciful Kyne, I'd made the term come full circle, bringing it back to being 'villager'. And I was totally going to use that when someone, preferably that narrow-minded bitch Brandish, calls me a villain. Etymology was so going to become as much a part of my schtick as ripping into the broken mess that people keep calling a social support system and needling Emma. Oh Winds this would be fun…
Returning my focus to the wider world, I caught sight of Amy carrying a plate loaded with… Huh. Baked cod, loaded potatoes, and liver? That'd actually be good, even if I wasn't particularly fond of liver. Plenty of nutrition there, and in forms I was honestly surprised to see in a place like this. The liver especially was more of a high-end restaurant dish than fast-food standard quick-and-cheap. Whatever, organ meat. So many useful things for a body, to the point that Arctic peoples could live entirely off of hunted animals without even a dite of edible greenery. Not that I'd be doing so myself, not if I could avoid it, but better to get used to eating it as that was rather normal in premodern life. Because good nutrition isn't to be passed on.
Anyway, to say that when my new benefactor set the plate in front of me, I fell on it like a starved wolf would be an exaggeration. I just barely managed to retain a semblance of table manners. Somehow.
What can I say? Spam and mixed fruit get old real fast, and I knew I hadn't been eating well for a month by this point.
So focused was I on getting the meal in that I almost missed Amy sitting down next to me and slipping a hand onto my neck. Almost. I half-choked on a buttery bacon spud before my throat shifted to maintain proper flow of food. Giving the healer a quick side-eye glare, I slowed my pace slightly to let her work her magic on my digestive tract and metabolism so I could make better use of the opportunity she'd given me. Winds, I missed having friends… Even if she was barely more than a casual acquaintance at this point.
As I finished off my pile of delicious people-fuel, Vicky settled on the bench opposite me with a plate of her own and, unsettlingly, a wide and loaded smile. My eyes narrowed. She wasn't…
"So," the blonde grinned, "why didn't you tell me you were into girls Ames? I'm sure I could've found you a leggy brunette…" And she was fucking wiggling her eyebrows.
The glare I leveled at the older girl probably paled in comparison to the one on Amy's face, though the healer's wasn't helped at all by the massive blush she was sporting. Like, I could almost feel the heat coming off her cheeks with how red she was.
Oh Winds, she was genuinely flirting with me earlier. I… really didn't know how to feel about that.
"I have no idea what you mean Vicky," she replied in a tone that wouldn't fool a stoned Merchant. So it rather obviously failed on her fully sober and apparently shipping-crazed sister.
"Yeah, and I speak Klingon. You kept checking out our new friend's butt and legs whenever you had a good view."
Why did Amy have to be blocking my way out of the booth? If she wasn't, I'd be able to escape this on the basis of getting more food…
***
A low groan escaped my throat as I trudged into my warehouse, laden with my shopping bags from earlier. That lunch had to have been the most awkward meal I'd ever had. Two long hours of alternating stomach stuffing by Amy and being mercilessly grilled about my preferences by the evilest villain in Brockton Bay. Well, second most evil. Vicky was still behind the Nazis of the Empire, as hostis humani generis are sort of automatically the worst.
Still, I'd come out of the experience with a new sort-of friend, quite a few useful supplies, and a belly fuller than it'd ever been, so it wasn't all bad. But I'd definitely be flagging the New Wave Alexandria Package as 'to be avoided if possible' because I was not interested in romance right now, and the blasted girl just would not take that for an answer.
Stupid meddling do-gooder heroes…
Grumbling under my breath, I climbed the stairs up to the old office to collect my stashed supplies from their hiding places. And promptly froze at the sight of a Cauldron portal snapping shut in the middle of the room. What were They up to this time?
Great. Now I'm sounding like fucking Void Cowboy. Thinking about a 'They' with a capital T and whatnot. Of course, I was dealing with an actual conspiracy of some sort, creating power-granting vials with unknown goals, so make of that what you will and all that. Still not a good sign though.
Sighing, I lifted one of the boxes I'd used to conceal my food from prying eyes and blinked. There on top of my spam tins was a small paperboard carton, with a vivid yellow band and a verdant background.
"Yorkshire Gold? I don't believe I ever told them I like tea, and even if I had, I'd have expected Earl Grey and not a brand I've never tried. Does anyone here even carry Yorkshire Tea? Isn't it a British brand?"
Eh, tea is tea. I'd still drink it even if it wasn't one I preferred…
"Shit, now I'm going to need to steal a kettle, teapot, and mug aren't I? Dammit Contessa!"
Shoving the tea into one of my bags along with the food, I hurriedly gathered up the other stashes and triggered my anchor. Hopefully the weather on Tǩóymos had improved since this morning, because I really didn't want to spend anymore time on Bet today…
***
Unnamed Location, Earth Tǩóymos, Jan 7, 2011.
A light mist was not really all that great, but it sure beat the frigid air of Brockton Bay, and was a far cry from the rain and oppressive humidity of this morning, so I wasn't going to complain. Setting down my collection of bags, I pulled out a pair of athletics shorts and a sports bra I'd acquired thanks to the Dallon sisters and quickly changed into them. Ah, breathable clothes…
Briefly reveling in the near-luxury of good and climate-appropriate clothing, I turned my attention to the crude but solid shelter/storehouse that'd been built yesterday. Thatched fronds wouldn't last for more than a few months, not with the methods I'd used, and the powerful tropical storms that hit regions like this. That sort of shoddy work wasn't something I liked, but as a temporary structure it'd do. No point in constructing something that could survive years or decades when it'd be torn down to make way for another, even more resilient, structure well before then.
Hm, I was going to be using Roman concrete for my primary structural material. While much of my aesthetic so far was rather a bit before their time, the Romans had a fair bit of experience building in hot, earthquake prone, areas and had some really nice-looking houses. Modeling my own work on theirs would make for a pleasant urban environment in my settlement. I'd need a good whitewash, preferably something enamel-like, to help protect the concrete and keep things cool, and maybe incorporate some Japanese elements into the architecture for flavor and additional durability…
Shaking my head, I started stowing my things inside the low-slung building. Woolgathering on how I'd design my capital could wait until I was secure enough to do it properly.
Once everything was properly put away, I stepped back out and set my drones on new tasks. One to check the near bank for suitability for terrace farming, and the other two for a wide-ranging general survey. Waypoints were set for the volcano on the western horizon and the mountains on the northern one, both being points of notable concern. With my site's elevation, flooding from monsoon rain on the slopes shouldn't be a problem, but that really depended on the geography of the Alexandria's valley. The volcano, however, was a more pressing issue to examine. It looked to be a fairly typical basaltic shield from what little I could see, but it could also easily be a low-profile stratovolcano and thus pose the possibility of turning my base into Pompeii if it were to go Krakatoa or Mt. St. Helens on me.
Probably should have checked on that earlier, but better to get that done before I got much further, as having to relocate again now, while a pain, would be easier than if I was more established. And having to start all over again would be a bitch if the worst happened. Assuming I survived that is. Which was probably a good bet, thinking about it. Cauldron was almost certainly monitoring me in some way, given the portal the first day, and likely wouldn't let me die to an eruption.
I didn't want to count on that though, especially since I'd owe them, one way or another.
Pushing that line of thought, along with a slight shudder at the idea of being watched, aside, I began making my way down towards the isthmus connecting to the bank. Giving those hot springs a look, then sourcing some flexible vines for lashing was the agenda for the moment. Though boat-building would have to come before a relaxing soak, if the latter turned out to be available.
***
Unnamed Location, Earth Tǩóymos, Jan 8, 2011.
Groaning softly, I clambered off the thick bed of leaves I'd tossed together the night before. Hitting a sporting goods store was definitely up there on my priories list, right alongside a hardware place. Having the sleeping bag I'd been bought yesterday helped, but foliage made for a terrible mattress when you were sore all over from building a large raft, and I hadn't had the chance to actually use the hot springs. Not that one of those thin foam pads would much better, but a few of them stacked on top of each other would be superior to dealing with the fragility of an air mattress.
Digging out a tin of spam and a couple of fruit cans, I sat down to eat, grabbing my helmet while doing so. Detaching the lower face plate, I slipped the rest of the device on and started reviewing the drone data while prying the chunk of spiced meat out of its container.
First was the farming suitability survey, which was showing sufficiently stable soil that I could comfortably terrace the back for farming. And that the land above the bank could be cultivated safely too, even if I were to clear-cut parts of it. Good, I'd have plenty of agricultural space then, meaning that I had the potential to support a meaningful population and even have a surplus of food.
Next was the as-yet unfinished report form the drone tasked with the volcano. This also contained good news, at least so far. The still nameless mountain was a fair bit farther away than I'd initially thought, being over eighty miles distant, and was steeper than typical shield volcano that, while certainly more explosive than I was entirely pleased about, was going to be safe for the foreseeable future. Barring any geological oddities that weren't found on Bet that is.
The survey of the Alexandria, however, merited a raised eyebrow. Rather than a meandering path marked with oxbow lakes, or a fairly simple course, the river flowed through a large lake approximately ten miles inland, hidden from my view by the planet's curvature and a high ridge line. A ridge line that had the telltale signs of being a crater rim.
I frowned at that, taking a sip of fruit juice as I studied the geography. If the river passed through it, rather than around, then it was probably an ancient impact crater. But I'd need more information to rule out it being a caldera. If it were, it'd pose a hazard to the entire region, and I'd have to ask a favor of Cauldron to relocate to a different continent to be out of the blast zone.
Zooming in on an outcrop on the rim, I let out a sigh of relief. My brief concern wasn't warranted. Eroded and plant-encrusted as it was, the rock bore the signs of having been bent and rolled back over itself, decisive evidence of it being an impact event thousands of years ago. Devastating, but not something that would be an issue in the future. Probably even was the source of at least some of the iron sand deposits in the area.
Setting aside the now empty cans, I stood and started gathering my caping equipment, issuing a recall order to the drones as I did so. The volcano's threat was, at this point, negligible and the lake mitigated any flooding hazard enough that mapping the river could be put off for a while. Probably whenever I ended up needing a hydroelectric dam or something.
I paused. Could I build something that large on my own? Then had to quickly shove down that train of thought before the urge to start sketching in the dirt got too strong. Now was not the time to work out how to make a dam building machine. There was a raid to plot and execute.
***
Brockton Bay, Earth Bet, Jan 8, 2011.
"Alright people! Here's the drill, you all go about your business and I go about mine. That happens, and all this will be is an interesting story to talk about around the water cooler, or whatever it is you do. I'm not the kind of villain who gets off on hurting people, and I'd very rather avoid doing so. Anyone have a problem with that?" I looked at the three customers and singular employee at the Ace Hardware with a critical eye. All of them stared at me for a few seconds, before collectively shrugging and returning to what they'd been doing before I'd kicked the doors open.
Excellent. Being seen as harmless was working out so far, even if I hadn't yet entered the public consciousness as being such yet.
Snagging a cart, I began making my way through the store towards the power tools. So many things there could be repurposed in surprising ways, like electric leaf blowers into draft fans for smelters and forges. From there, more basic tools were next, hammers, saws, and more. Anything I could get my hands on that could be made to serve my needs was piled in, and, where possible, shoved into one of several bags I'd found near the back.
Once I'd gathered as much as I could carry short distances, which took surprisingly little time, I turned back to the front. As I passed the checkout, the lone employee started waving at me.
"Miss?" He called. "Do you have a name I can put on the robbery report? It'll help with the insurance people if I can identify the villain in the paperwork beforehand."
I smiled under my helmet. Who knew paperwork would make my life easier? "I'm Hausōs. Spelt with a long 'o' diacritic."
With that said, I slipped out the doors, dashed into an alley just past the delivery bay, and unloaded the cart. Pushing it away, I hauled up my loot and, after a brief struggle, triggered my recall system.
Have at it guys. I'll swing by in the morning to handle replies and crosspost to SB.
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I was not expecting Neolithic V under 2 hours later when you said this. Thanks for the chapter.
Honorguard Ra
(Verified Lizard Dude)
This was a wonderful way to get back into this story! Taylor has her first colonist/new friend, and Amy gets a friend/place to not snap and go on a rampage. Win/win! Amy being flirty and supportive makes me squeeface, looking forward to more of that eventually, even if she isn't ready for romance now. I also come with constructive criticism in the form of potential corrections!
In the restaurant, when Amy is coming back with the food she grabbed for Taylor, this appears- without even a dite of edible greenery. Bite
During the bit where Taylor is evaluating the volcano data, we have this- certainly more explosive than I was entirely please about
Pleased? Also, is anyone else having serious issues with the website corrupting the hell out of the format of their replies? I had to copy paste this from an editor so SV couldn't screw it up.
In the restaurant, when Amy is coming back with the food she grabbed for Taylor, this appears- without even a dite of edible greenery. Bite
During the bit where Taylor is evaluating the volcano data, we have this- certainly more explosive than I was entirely please about
Pleased? Also, is anyone else having serious issues with the website corrupting the hell out of the format of their replies? I had to copy paste this from an editor so SV couldn't screw it up.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Oh, a shiny! Taylor making 'friends' (Amy is either an enemy or a lover, no between) and with someone who serves as a massive multiplier for Taylor's colonial efforts (being able to turn native creatures into domesticated versions of themselves if she wants, or just ensuring no native diseases can harm the colony), me like! I hope the next chapter is a wee bit faster to come, but this one was worth the wait
- Location
- Te Ika-a-Māui
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Nice chapter! Good to see Taylor making a (girl?)friend.
Etymology. You want the study of the origin of words, not the study of insects, this isn't canon Taylor.
