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Cryptekial (Worm/WH40K)

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On the topic of Taylor vs Siberian, it'll depend purely on how prepared she comes to the fight. She has the technology to deal with Siberian. If she has the correct answer though, when or if the Siberian attacks?

That is the question you should be asking.
 
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End of the Day
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    • CRYPTEKIAL

    ~~~~

    Later​

    She stood on top of a mountain, the night sky on full display above her. Countless billions of distant lights dotting the sky in their subtle rainbow of color, so dim you could barely tell one from the other. Not unless you were her. And she could see. So many colors and intensities, stretching outwards beyond sight.

    She wanted it all. Every last one. A Land of Stars, reaching from one end of the Galaxy to the next. And then, she would extend her realm to the next galaxy, and then the next, and on and on forever more. She didn't care if the stars were dead or dying by the time she got there, they would still belong to her. She'd reignite them, bind them to her will. They'd shine forever, beautiful and twinkling just for her.

    She reached up, grasping for them. When she caught nothing but the air, titanic hands of metal ripped free of the mountain, and reached for her. The wind roared, mountains shattered and fell, seas dried up and vanished. The world crumbled beneath her till all that was left was the mountain she stood on. Her cape fluttered, buffeted by solar winds. There was just her, the mountain, and the stars as a thousand grasping hands of metal emerged from the ruined world, reaching for it all.

    So close

    "-aylor?"

    Just have to reach a little farther

    "-me on, Taylor."

    Who? Her brow wrinkled. Who's holding me back? Can't they see what I see?

    Suddenly, something was pulling on her. Yanking her back, stopping her from reaching for her desire. Someone was holding her back. The stars grew dim and distant as she all the more desperately tried to reach for them.

    No. I won't accept that. I'm so close. Let...me...GO!

    She whirled around, ready to knock whoever it was away, her face flush with her livid emotions, only to-

    ~~~~​

    Taylor yelped as she hit the floor face first, and distantly, beyond the stars flashing in front of her eyes and squashed nose, she heard a sharp crack as something broke. There was a distinctive feel of something digging into her shoulder, and she had a bad feeling that she knew what that something was.

    "Taylor! Kiddo, you ok? Sorry, didn't mean to startle you but-"

    "It's ok," She gasped sharply. Breathing in through her nose was agony right now, and her words came out half garbled because she was holding her hands over her face. "It's ok." She repeated, slowly to make sure she was speaking clearly.

    She felt something wet start running down her hands, and she could tell that her nose was bleeding. No big surprise. The couch was pretty high up, and she had hit the hardwood floor pretty hard.

    "God Taylor, look at that thing go. Here, get back up on the couch, I'll get the first aid kit." She blinked, and through the haze of her vision that was her sight without glasses, she watched a figure leave the room.

    'Dad?' She wondered? Had to be. She...home, wasn't she? Looking around, she could somewhat make out the blurry outline of what looked like her living room. Had she fallen asleep? She had remembered coming home, feeling utterly drained after everything that had happened. She'd showered, changed, and sat on the couch to relax for a moment...

    That must of been it, she thought as she kept one hand covering her face and used the other to pull herself upright and onto the couch, trying to ignore the fact she was probably spreading bloody handprints over everything.. She flinched slightly, both from the motion jarring her abused nose, and from the further crunching of what she just knew to be her glasses.

    She didn't have a spare pair, either. She'd be effectively blind now, for however long it took to get a new pair.

    Fantastic.

    Careful to breath only through her mouth, she tossed her head back, and tried not to move too much. Just her luck really, after everything that had gone right, that it would have to come back to bite her somehow.

    A warm, coppery taste passed over her lips, and down along the curve of her chin. Gods, she really was bleeding like crazy, wasn't she?

    A familiar stamp raced back down the stairs, and she smiled weakly. Well, at least there was that, she thought to herself.

    "Alright, let me see it kiddo. Quick like, now, before it gets any worse." Her dad said, his outline taking a seat next to her. The second she took her hand away, his darted in, holding what looked like a white blob over her face.

    She hissed, the motion reigniting the stabbing pain. She had to fight to stop herself from clenching her teeth, and making it even worse than it already was.

    "Dammit Taylor, I'm sorry. I was just trying to wake you up, not send you sprawling," Her dad repeated. "Hell, this even feels bad. Think I should call someone, you might've broken something here."

    It certainly felt that way. But at the same time, her nose still felt like it was all in one piece. In the end, she waved him down. "Don't-" She gasped as her motion unintentionally jostled her dad's hand, causing him to start spouting apologies again. "Don't worry about it dad. It's ok. Just... just give me a bit, please? I think it's fine."

    Danny was silent for a moment, before out of the corner of her eye she saw him nod. At least, she thought he was nodding.

    "Alright, kiddo. If you think so. Just tell me if it doesn't stop hurting, alright? That looks serious. Will you be ok holding on to it while I go get some ice?" He asked, concern clear in his voice.

    Carefully, she set a hand on the gauze, giving his hand a squeeze as she did. "I think I can manage it."

    "That's my girl." he replied, and she could hear the smile in his tone. The couch shifted, and he stood up, only to punctuate it with the sound of something grinding into the floor. "Aw hell. Your glasses, Taylor."

    She resisted the urge to shake her head and sigh with him as he groaned. "I think I fell on them when I hit the floor."

    He sighed, a deep mix of frustration and what sounded like regret. She could faintly hear him running his hand through his hair, or at least doing something that sounded like it. Finally, he took a deep breath, releasing it in a long groan. "Well, nothing for it then. Just… just wait a second Taylor. I got something for you."

    "Dad?" She asked, "Dad, what do you-" but he was already gone, his footsteps heading up the stairs, and she breathed her own long sigh. Being half-blind and stuck in one position sucked. And the faint sense of wetness growing beneath her fingers told her that she still hadn't stopped bleeding. A small part of her was worried; maybe she really had broken something.

    At least, it gave her a moment to collect her thoughts. She briefly remembered dreaming about something, but she couldn't remember what. So her thoughts drifted back to what had happened earlier.

    For a moment, she froze as she remembered the paperwork that was upstairs, hastily tossed on her deck. Her blood chilled at the thought of her father finding it. Danny Hebert was a man that could weather the worst of the city could throw at him, but when his temper did snap it was a frightful sight. And she had no doubt if he saw the papers she had signed she would have front row seats to an apocalyptic blast of that very same temper.

    Did she leave the Staff out?

    Dammit, she couldn't remember. She shifted on the couch, now feeling decidedly uncomfortable. She couldn't run up there now. She'd kill herself on the stairs if she didn't wind up smashing her face on the floor again trying to move around the house. She supposed that her one saving grace was that she had left everything else back on the Rig. Armsmaster had asked her to loan the machines to him till they sorted out the paperwork, and she had tentatively agreed.

    It worked out well for her. It meant she wouldn't have to lug it all back to her house, and it made it easier to just take off most of her costume and walk home like normal after she had been dropped off.

    And Armsmaster was rather insistent about testing the production capacity of her setup. He did promise that if he pushed it too hard, he would cover the cost for completely replacing everything.

    She heard footsteps upstairs. Where were they coming from? Were they near her room?

    She tried to stay calm. The paperwork was in a envelope, on her desk, not out in the open. All she had to worry about was the bag and her staff. The chances of her dad going in her room, and finding all that, was small. Half the reason she didn't want to join the Wards was because she would have to tell her dad. Not until she had something to show him that she was doing good, and making a difference.

    "Taylor?" The voice of her father asked from somewhere behind her.

    She was proud of the fact that she didn't outwardly react. However, it didn't stop her heart from leaping up into her throat. She swallowed the lump in her throat, tilting her head so that she could see the blob of color that was her father.

    "D-dad...didn't hear you come back down the stairs." She said, trying to force her heartbeat to slow down. "You surprised me."

    "Sorry Kiddo, I've just been wanting to surprise you with these for a little while now." The blob answered, coming around the side of the couch and sitting down next to her again.

    She blinked furiously, trying to force herself to make out the details. Unfortunately, there nothing but a faint impression that he was holding something in what she thought might be his hands. The colors and edges blurred together, making it hard to tell.

    "Here," he said, grabbing her free hand and guiding it to something smooth and plastic. "The last time we went to the optometrist, I talked with them, and they arranged this for you. It got in just the other day, and I've been meaning to surprise you with them."

    Her mind whirled for a second, piecing together the facts. Did he mean...contacts? Actual contacts? Under the guidance of her dad, she opened the lid, and felt something somewhat squishy suspended in liquid.

    "Think you can get it?" Danny asked.

    "I think so. Just…" The contact, or at least she hoped it was, stuck to the end of her finger, and she carefully brought it up to her eye, avoiding brushing past her other hand, which was occupied with keeping the gauze in place. She fought the urge to blink, and gently touched it to her eye.

    It detached, and the next time she blinked it settled, and the world was suddenly clear. She could see. Squinting her one eye without a contact to block out the blurry mess she still saw through it, she turned and looked at her dad, who was smiling.

    She smiled right back, the earlier feeling of tension and panic fading. "Thanks dad."

    ~~~~​

    Taylor looked into her little mirror, gingerly poking at the red swell that was her nose. She'd been right, or at least she hoped so. Nothing was broken. It still hurt, but she couldn't feel anything wrong. With the bleeding stopped her nose looked like a cherry tomato and tomorrow the bruising would be even worse.

    She put the mirror away and leaned back in her chair with a sigh. She couldn't go to school like this. The trio would make things even more hellish, not counting if Sophia didn't take it as a challenge to try and do something. She didn't even want to think about the rumors they'd try to start.

    Carefully, she weighed the pros and cons. She had a test to turn in tomorrow, but it was for Miss Knott's class, which was the only class she was ahead in. She could afford to take the hit, unlike in her other classes. But if she went, it was something she was all but guaranteed to get done without any of the trio in the class to sabotage her. And Computer class was one of the few things keeping the rest of her grades above the red.

    But if she did go, Emma wouldn't rest with such an open weakness to exploit. She'd smell the blood in the water and would likely spend every other class of the day making her life hell.

    She ran a hand a through her hair in thought. Knott's class was early in her schedule, she could leave late, drop in for class, and ditch afterwards. She'd be able to get the best of both worlds that way. She pondered it some more, before gently shaking her head. It was a plan, at least. It was better than nothing.

    Downstairs, she could make out the sound of Danny, working in the kitchen. As an apology for startling awake, he was taking over making dinner for them both tonight. Typically, it was up to her, but he said he'd handle it tonight.

    Quite honestly, she didn't remember the last time he had cooked. Maybe the occasional breakfast, since he was the first one up for work. But other then that, she couldn't pinpoint any day in the last year he had cooked dinner. It was actually somewhat surprising, she was so used to doing the cooking that suddenly not doing it threw her for a loop.

    But, she guessed as she looked down at her desk, it was somewhat her own fault. She opened the envelope, pulling out the paperwork from earlier. A reminder of the day she had spent, and how she had spent it. At the bottom, the temporary name of her Parahuman identity.

    Loom.

    Armsmaster had suggested it, based on the way her creations wove matter together to create something new. She liked it, but at the same time, it felt...small. It felt like it was too tight on her, in the metaphorical sense. It was a good name, and it would work for now, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't a name she should keep.

    A name she could keep.

    There was another name out there, something whispered to her from the back of her head. A proper name, that would fit her perfectly. She just didn't know it yet.

    Still, it was a name that worked, and it was the one that was signed at the bottom of her copy of the paperwork. The other copy had been given to Armsmaster, signalling her understanding of and agreement to the Supplier program.

    The start of her Parahuman Career.

    "Taylor!" Danny's voice shouted up from downstairs. "Dinner!"

    "Coming!" She shouted back, looking at the paper one last time before setting it down. Honestly, for this new start, she could let Armsmaster have her three creations for a day or two. She might've let him borrowed them for longer, if it meant getting his help again. She'd have a lab soon enough, a real one. Standing up from her desk, she hid the paperwork under a few books for now. As she opened the door, she stopped to examine the now-empty bag. Her Staff was safely in the closet, and the next time she took it out she was not likely to need the bag for it.

    Still, she was curious. What had Armsmaster been so interested in it earlier?

    He'd been looking at the inside when he froze, was there…?

    She blinked, and held the bag up slightly to the light. There was faded printing on the inside of the bag, just barely legible. It looked as old as the bag itself.

    "Brockton…" she read aloud, trying to make out the rest. "Brockton Bay….First Central Bank?" A Bank Bag? First Central had closed down years ago. Years and years ago. She wasn't even born yet, if she remembered right. So why did she have one?

    ~~~~

    Earlier that same day, after the Meeting

    ~~~~    ​

    Chris touched down on the helipad and gave his board a practiced kick, sending it flipping upwards into his waiting hand as he used the other to wipe the sea spray from his visor.

    He hated making these trips out to the rig. Half the time he ended up soaked to the bone, and the other half something picked up rust from being out in the moist sea breeze. But his hoverboard was the fastest way out here, and if he waited for someone to pick up his tech and deliver it out here, it would be the better part of the week before he saw any of it again.

    Better to just take what he wanted to get approved out to the Rig and Armsmaster himself. Plus, he had a few ideas he wanted to run past the older Tinker. He had this really neat idea for a teleport system for his gear that would-

    "Kid Win?" A voice asked from off to his side.

    He shook his head, clearing the cobwebs, turning towards the speaker, a security officer, with a smile. "Yep," he replied. "Here to see Armsmaster. Is he free?"

    The security officer, a rather bland-looking individual, frowned and checked the tablet he was carrying, before nodding and pointing, off towards the elevator down into the Rig. "Yes, he's open I believe. He had a meeting not long ago, so he should be in his lab. Just check in with security on your way down."

    "Thanks. I know the way." He replied in friendly tone, before adjusting his backpack and striding across the platform. The elevator opened automatically, and he passed his PRT Phone over the scanner to confirm his identity as he stepped inside.

    The elevator ~dinged~ and a green light flashed to life, as the doors closed. The speaker buzzed to life, and a digitized voice squawked at him. "Purpose of Visit?"

    "Business," he replied smoothly. "Field Tech Approval with Armsmaster."

    There was a moment of nothing but static noise, before the voice squawked back at him again, sounding bored through the digitalization. "Your entry has been approved. Have a good day Kid Win."

    "You too," he answered back with a sigh. Of course, whoever it was hadn't heard him; the comm had cut out right after he last message. Still, it didn't hurt to be friendly. He took the moment of privacy while the elevator descended to pop off his helmet and get some fresh air. He clipped it onto his belt, and with a press of a button his backpack came loose as he switched it for his board, snapping it smoothly into place.

    That done, he unclipped his helmet, and after a seconds of fiddling the mostly full-face visor was collapsed down into one that just covered his eyes. Perfect.

    Putting it back on, he grabbed his backpack just in time for the elevator doors to open up to the main floor of the Rig. He waved to a passing worker as he stepped out, and with a quick glance around headed off towards Armsmaster's lab.

    As always, the Rig was sparsely populated, with the hallways next to deserted. He waved and said hello to a few familiar faces on his way, though most were unfamiliar to him. But other than that small handful, the place was almost deserted. On paper it could house a rather sizable force, but in reality the Rig only had some live-in security officers, a few workers, and the Protectorate members. And honestly, it really showed.

    Another turn down an unmarked hall, and Armsmaster's Lab came into view, the heavier, armored door instantly recognizable. It was almost identical to the one to his own lab.

    He passed his phone over the panel to let it know it was him, and hit the buzzer.

    And waited.

    And waited.

    He blinked, shaking his head in confusion before he hit the buzzer again, this time following up by hitting the comm. "Armsmaster, Sir? It's Kid Win. I'm here for my Field Tech Approval."

    There was no answer from the other side, and for a moment he worried that he had missed him. If he had, it would be tomorrow before he could get anything approved thanks to how late it was - the sun had already started going down when he had arrived.

    This time, however, he didn't end up waiting at the door. It hissed open to reveal Armsmaster looking at him through the door minus his customary face-mask, with a look that was a mix of impatience and frustration.

    He flinched back slightly, the action seeming to cause the senior cape's rather frightful appearance to soften. "Kid Win. Apologies, I was caught up in an experiment. Come on in," He said, gesturing for Kid to enter. "You said Field Tech Approval? You have something to show me?"

    He tentatively raised his backpack and forced a smile. "Ya. Got this new idea for my stuff, and a few things I want to take out next patrol."

    Armsmaster nodded distractedly as he stepped aside, letting the Ward in. His mind seemed to somewhere else, at least a little. "Of course, of course. Set it down on the table. Just watch the samples please, I'm in the middle of something."

    "Samples?" Kid questioned as he stepped into the lab. Behind his visor, his eyebrows rose as he took in the state of things.

    Armsmaster's normally clean lab was a mess. More then that, it looked like a disaster. Hell, it looked like his lab. Stuff was littered across every available surface. Free space was at a premium, with open spots in the clutter rare.

    His hip butted into something, and looking he saw it was a wheeled basin, filled to the brim with...gym weights? He ignored it, though just barely as he continued to the table in the middle of the room.

    When he finally managed to get through the maze that was the rest of the room, he found that he had to clear the table just to have enough room to comfortably sit, much less put down his bag. Even then, something clattered as he sat down, and he barely managed to stop a beaker full of small, yellow metallic rods from tipped over.

    "Armsmaster, sir, what is-" He started asking, holding it up to the light. The rods glinted in the light, as Armsmaster cut him off.

    "Gold. And watch the one next to you, that's crude oil." The older tinker supplied.

    Kid Win hastily set the beaker down. "Sir, if I can ask? What is all this."

    Armsmaster whirled around to him, a look of sudden realization on his face. "This," he said with a hard edge to his voice, "doesn't leave the lab till I tell you otherwise. We quite possibly have the answer to any resource scarcity for the foreseeable future of the human race here."

    For the first time, he noticed how haggard Armsmaster looked. His hair was mussed, and his beard was wild. "S-sir?" He questioned unevenly.

    "Now then," Armsmaster continued, running a hand through his hair to bring it back under a semblance of control. "You said you had something to show me?"
     
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    • Biigoh said:
    Mannequin is more likely than Saint.

    After all, Saint is only after Dragon AI, not random potential powerful Tinker.
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    Saint is also a tech thief, so him coming into town to smash up Dragon's cyber-boyfriend and steal the motherlode of tinkertech for himself or to sell off makes sense.

    Plus it would let him produce and reproduce whatever tech he's stolen and has plans for ad infinitum, until the necrodermis machinery breaks down. (Which it won't!)
     
    cannonballonfire said:
    Saint is also a tech thief, so him coming into town to smash up Dragon's cyber-boyfriend and steal the motherlode of tinkertech for himself or to sell off makes sense.

    Plus it would let him produce and reproduce whatever tech he's stolen and has plans for ad infinitum, until the necrodermis machinery breaks down. (Which it won't!)
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    But the actual machines aren't made of Necrodermis. They are, technically, Pre-Necrodermis Prototypes. Now that they work, Taylor will be able to scale up into actual machinery made from Necrodermis. :drevil:
     
    So to start speculating on why the Heberts have a bank bag...

    Initially i would assume it was from Annette's days with Lustrum in order to fit in with cannon, but in this case i have the feeling that the bag is from Danny's shadier than cannon past. This is mainly because of the alternate history tag, which we haven't seen involved yet, and because it would be more interesting as it could have a large effect on the story.
     
    trill said:
    So to start speculating on why the Heberts have a bank bag...

    Initially i would assume it was from Annette's days with Lustrum in order to fit in with cannon, but in this case i have the feeling that the bag is from Danny's shadier than cannon past. This is mainly because of the alternate history tag, which we haven't seen involved yet, and because it would be more interesting as it could have a large effect on the story.
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    Actually...I don't remember adding the Alternate History Tag. I only added the Alternate Universe Tag.....

    No, I am dead serious, I didn't add the Alternate History Tag, and you were right the first time.
     
    Leafy503 said:
    I think its quite possible that Armsmaster just tried to replicate every element on the periodic table and then some.

    His Tinker brain must be shooting off like crazy. :D
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    This is, basically, what he's doing. He's trying to see if there is anything that it can't make. And so far, it's done it's one job of "Make all the Stuff" very well. To the point that Armsmaster is actually getting frustrated with the fact that he can't find a flaw so far.
     
    this is what i think is going to happen


    Mannequin shows up Taylor gets mortally injured and forced to uplode to a necrodermis shell
     
    She wanted it all. Every last one. A Land of Stars, reaching from one end of the Galaxy to the next. And then, she would extend her realm to the next galaxy, and then the next, and on and on forever more. She didn't care if the stars were dead or dying by the time she got there, they would still belong to her. She'd reignite them, bind them to her will. They'd shine forever, beautiful and twinkling just for her.
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    Necron Warlord Taylor. Excuse me while I evacuate the universe.
     
    Armsy needs to be careful though, he certainly cant make any claims that the tech is his, now he probably needs taylor with him, unless he tries to tell the prt and they do something stupid.
     
    Noxturne90 said:
    But the actual machines aren't made of Necrodermis. They are, technically, Pre-Necrodermis Prototypes. Now that they work, Taylor will be able to scale up into actual machinery made from Necrodermis. :drevil:
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    I was assuming that by the time Armsy told Dragon and Saint had time to put together a strike team that could deal with the Bay, Taylor would have done the smart thing and replaced her breakable and all-important production line with necrodermis so that it can run effectively forever.
     
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