Revenge for what, saving her life? In canon, the Case 53's were people Cauldron found dying on an alternate Earth, whom they then gave a vial to, the formula saving their lives, though transforming them. And it's not like they coulda done much to Taylor in 12 hours. Probbaly just enough time to check off "Immunity to Manton-protected powers confirmed, level of deviation beyond acceptable parameters for paying customers." then mindwipe her and drop her in an alley so people would think she blanked when she Triggered and 'ported around a bit before coming out of the fugue of seeing her father killed before her eyes just before her mind went blank. Hmm, does Taylor have the tattoo stamped somewhere on her body?
Effigy [Case53 Taylor Worm AU]
- Thread starter thor8797
- Start date
Revenge for what, saving her life? In canon, the Case 53's were people Cauldron found dying on an alternate Earth, whom they then gave a vial to, the formula saving their lives, though transforming them. And it's not like they coulda done much to Taylor in 12 hours. Probbaly just enough time to check off "Immunity to Manton-protected powers confirmed, level of deviation beyond acceptable parameters for paying customers." then mindwipe her and drop her in an alley so people would think she blanked when she Triggered and 'ported around a bit before coming out of the fugue of seeing her father killed before her eyes just before her mind went blank. Hmm, does Taylor have the tattoo stamped somewhere on her body?
thor8797
Canadian Sterotype
I'm waving off that particular bit of canon; for some reason I just find it incredibly weird that Cauldron not only bothered to come up with a logo but also decided to blatantly mark all their experiments. What couldn't they just keep records of what they look like and their powers, is it really that hard?
I dunno I just don't get the logic behind it.
I can't remember where, but I think it was WOG that the tattoo was also has a bar code in there.
P.Hominoidea
A Briming Glass Of Spiders And A Mouthful Of Bees
- Location
- Canada
That makes even less sense! Anyone who is going to be assigned to examine the mark is going to find the barcode, unless they are wildly incompetent or in cahoots with cauldron, in which case cauldron could just alert them.
A barcode changes it from weird but natural phenome to a clearly artificial procedure.
serra2
Himouto! Sylvanas-chan
Barcode is canon, no one really investigated it because reasons.
Kinda sorta, They started off with that strategy, but quickly descended to just plain kidnapping where they could. Sveta, for example, was snatched by a bunch of 53's while near her village.
I'll wager one of those reasons is a suspiciously competent woman in a suit who shows up to give anyone scrutinizing the barcode either a case of the deads or an appointment with Cauldron's resident mindwipe cape
I think WOG said that the bar code was so someone like Number Man could look take a glance and identify who the Case 53 was, where they were from and what they could do. As for the code itself I think it was a very tiny thing that you may have needed Number Man's particular form of hax to both see it and actually understand it.
Davian_Veq
Clock Facts!
- Location
- England
- Pronouns
- He/They
I do remember an alternate explanation for the brand in [Worm/AU] Divergences
Where one case 53 brands the others something something unremovable power
Apologies for my terrible explanation...
Where one case 53 brands the others something something unremovable power
Apologies for my terrible explanation...
- Location
- United States
The barcode was for indexing results (this is where we found them, this was the condition they were in when we found them, and this was the mixture we gave them), the tattoo hid the code and served a more simple purpose of identifying a C53 Cauldron made from someone like Crawler, who is a natural trigger but was mutated by his power.
The Protectorate knew SOMEBODY was somehow making the Case 53s, but between Alexandria running the whole organization and Contessa, nothing came of it.
The Protectorate knew SOMEBODY was somehow making the Case 53s, but between Alexandria running the whole organization and Contessa, nothing came of it.
Effigy - 1.8
thor8797
Canadian Sterotype
Effigy – 1.8
Taylor paced around her room, nervous energy keeping her from to siting still or focusing on anything for very long. The funeral was tomorrow, or more accurately given the time, later today.
Attempting to distract herself she looked out at the rest of the base with her senses. Armsmaster and Missy were the only two capes still on the base with the rest either out on patrol or gone home; idly Taylor wondered why her friend chose to stay overnight on the base so often. The only other people on the base were a handful of security people, clerks, and scientists working overtime.
She threw a glance over at the folder on her desk, she'd already read it over once tonight, and it felt like studying for a test that was never going to happen.
Turning her mind to a different distraction she thought of the note she had found taped to her door a few hours earlier. The note was from Dr. Caldwell explaining that they had finally finished testing the materials she was made of. All of it shared the same general properties; tough, highly temperature resistant, and most importantly were relatively easy to produce. They couldn't match top of the line tinker materials but were comfortably mid-upper tier; at the bottom was an apology for not being able to tell her in person.
Taylor felt an odd glow of pride at that before her thoughts inevitably came back to the funeral and the possibility of her memories returning.
With her memories back she could stop feeling like a fake; wearing a face and name from a life she hadn't lived.
Looking at the clock told her it was barely past one in the morning.
The next few hours felt like an eternity to Taylor, alone with her thoughts.
-----------------------------------
Taylor hadn't really grasped that someone was dead until now. Intellectually she had known what it meant but standing there with all the other attendees, watching the casket close and the pall bearers take up their positions; it finally hit her. Danny Hebert, her father, was dead.
Up until that point the ceremony had been a blur of new faces, greetings and condolences; she didn't say much only listened as others spoke about her father's life. A few names and faces stayed with her however; like Kurt and Lacey Dawkins a couple who had worked with her father and had been friends of family for years. Emma and her father were also there dressed in the same subdued dark clothing everyone else, including Taylor, seemed to be wearing.
The sunny, warm weather contrasted sharply with the somber atmosphere of the people gathered near the entrance of the graveyard; Taylor had noted that this was the only situation she had encountered where her slightly solemn neutral expression was almost completely appropriate.
Despite the small number of people many wore expressions of pain, grief and sadness; a small traitorous part of Taylor's mind was glad for the detachment her lack of memories brought her.
She'd heard that the dead often looked like they were sleeping; she couldn't see it. It was too artificial; his balding hair had been carefully combed, his eyes were closed and he was wearing a freshly cleaned blue suit.
Taylor's focus was snapped back to the present by the slight squeak of the handles the pall bearers used to lift the coffin. As she turned with the rest of the attendees to follow them warmth enveloped both of her hands. Looking to her left she found Hannah had taken her hand and was looking at her with concern, a glance to the right showed Emma doing the same complete with a similar expression.
"Are you ok?" Emma asked before Hannah could get a word in.
"I'm alright", Taylor replied quietly, looking away from the other girl.
"Are you sure?" Hannah asked from the other side.
"I- yeah", Taylor said, hoping her tone wouldn't give her away.
"Alright", Hannah said, glancing at Emma. It was clear neither of them believed the girl.
Following the casket as it made its way past the rows and rows of headstones the group finally came to the freshly dug grave. Daniel Hebert would be laid to rest next to his wife.
'If I hadn't triggered would I be buried here too?' Taylor wondered.
While the rest of the group came to a stop the pall bearers continued onwards to the grave, silently and efficiently lowering the casket to its final resting place. For a second everyone stopped, feeling that there should have been more to the moment, some physical sign showing the significance of the event.
None came.
There was a pause before Alan Barnes shook off the feeling and stepped into position behind Danny's headstone. Clearing his throat he pulled out a sheet of paper, "Danny was a good friend of both me and my family." Another pause as he worked up the will to continue, "He was a friend, co-worker, and father to everyone here. . ."
That was the point Taylor lost track of the eulogy. She had come to a realization at those words; she hadn't come here for her father. She hadn't come here to pay her respects to the man who, by all accounts, had died trying to protect her.
She was here because she thought she would benefit from it.
". . .may he rest in peace, god speed Danny", Alan said as calmly as he could. Reverently he folded up the piece of paper before rejoining the group, wiping the tears off his face.
There was an expectant pause before Emma quietly broke into Taylor's thoughts, "You're supposed to toss a handful of dirt in."
Breaking free of the people to either side of her Taylor mechanically walked over to the pile of dirt that had been dug up earlier. Reaching down she took a handful of still wet dirt before stepping over to the grave.
"I'm sorry", she whispered to her father as the dirt fell, her hopes of regaining her memories falling with it.
Her thoughts whirled inside her, who was she sorry for? Herself? Her father?
She had come here, certain that she would regain her memories; she hadn't even felt a hint of them.
'I came to a funeral because I thought I could get something out of it. What does that say about me?' Taylor thought as she heard the muted patter of dirt hitting wood.
Head down she trudged back to where Hannah and Emma were standing.
She didn't say a word for the rest of the proceedings.
--------------------------------------
Hannah was almost frantic as she ran back to Taylor's room with the key she had gotten from the base security office.
She had tried to get Taylor to talk to her on their way back to the Rig from the funeral; as soon as they arrived the younger girl had teleported away. Hannah had almost sprinted from the dock to Taylor's room only to find it locked.
The first thing she noticed after throwing the door open was the mess of papers scattered across the right side of the room, she recognized one of the pictures among the mess; an image of pre-trigger Taylor smiling up from the floor.
Taylor herself had her back to the opposite wall with her arms wrapped around her legs and her face pressed against her knees.
"Taylor?" Hannah asked as she cautiously approached the girl.
The younger girl didn't respond to Hannah as she slowly advanced across the room.
"Please, say something", Hannah said, dropping to her knees in front of the other girl.
Receiving no response she leaned forward and pulled Taylor into an awkward hug, "Talk to me Taylor, I can't help if I don't know what's wrong."
Without saying anything Taylor reached up and wrapped her arms around Hannah. They stayed like that for a few minutes before the truth started to spill out.
"I-I'm a fake", the dark haired girl said, a hint of desperation in her voice as she pressed closer; her nose digging uncomfortably into Hannah's shoulder.
Hannah felt like she was taking an exam she hadn't studied for; she couldn't exactly run off to grab Dr. Gavel at the moment and the wards weren't on the base in the middle of the day. Part of her marvelled at how much had happened so far today; it wasn't even past one in the afternoon yet.
"How so?" Hannah asked soothingly, trying to make sense of the situation.
"I'm not Taylor; I can't even remember being her."
"But you were and still are Taylor Hebert, it doesn't matter whether you can remember or not; you're here and you're real."
"But I'm just wearing her name and face, I don't- there's nothing else."
Hannah let out a sigh as she tried to think of something to say to the girl, "Everyone but you accepts that you are Taylor Hebert, you don't need to be exactly the same as you were before you changed. No one expects that."
Taylor's grip tightened a bit more eliciting a grunt from Hannah. "Sorry", she mumbled, releasing her grip on the older woman and returning her gaze to her knees.
Hannah took the opportunity to lean back, "Taylor, look at me." She spoke evenly, placing her hands on the other girl's knees, "Don't try to force yourself to be the same person."
"But my memories-"
"-Aren't coming back", Hannah interrupted quietly, looking Taylor directly in the eye.
Taylor's shoulders slumped at that; a part of her had known that for a while, it was something that had turned up when she researched Cases. None of them had ever gotten their memories back. Hearing it said out loud spelled the end of the unspoken hope that they would come back.
"I don't want you to waste away chasing an impossible goal", Hannah said sadly, fortunately she had (hopefully) figured out what to say to distraught girl. "Who's your best friend?"
"What?" The question came out of nowhere for Taylor knocking her off her increasingly gloomy train of thought. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Humour me, it'll make sense soon."
"O-k, Missy."
"What's your favourite colour?"
"Green?" Taylor said, unsure of where this was going.
"Favourite smell?"
"Mint tea."
"How many people have you met?"
"A lot? I don't know exactly how many."
"How many of them do you think remember you? How many people have you talked to? How many memories have you left with other people? If nothing else that man whose life you saved will remember you." As she spoke Hannah mentally crossed her fingers and offered prayers to every deity she could think of that the words coming out of her mouth would help.
For her part Taylor's body language had gone from clearly upset to something a bit more thoughtful; she wasn't relaxed by and standard but she was at least thinking about what Hannah had said.
"You are your own person Taylor, all I'm asking is that you keep that in mind", the olive skinned woman said before pulling the girl into another hug.
"Ok", Taylor said, her voice almost a whisper; she didn't sound completely convinced but it was a far cry from the completely lost tone she had had earlier.
------------------------------------------
A/N: The last scene here was pretty hard for me to write so I hope it turned out ok. Next up will be the end-of-arc interludes.
Rajvik_wolfboy
Wolf amongst the stars.
- Location
- Florida
unfortunately i cannot both hug and like this
thor8797
Canadian Sterotype
Considering she won't have spent 2 years in an echo chamber with Emma she likely won't be as firmly set in her philosophy that said I do plan to have Piggot and Armsmaster make a pros and cons list. The situation gets more complicated with the fact that Alan won't be at her trial to give a character whitness.
Why not? There's no guarantee their canon meeting in the alley will be butterflied away
thor8797
Canadian Sterotype
That moment has already come and gone, we're out of July and nearing the end of August timeline wise.
EDIT: That and I feel I can wring more interesting character moments out of Emma coming to terms with Taylor's amnesia. She's going to have to come to terms with her best friend since she was a toddler having no recollection of their time together.
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Rajvik_wolfboy
Wolf amongst the stars.
- Location
- Florida
Trigger chances ahoy
- Location
- powell tn
She is going to have to come to terms with the fact that her best friend basiclly died with her dad. There is an old saying that basicly goes what are we but the sum of our memories.
edit: I kinda know what Taylor is going through. I was around four when I lost all my memories. Luckally I was young enough that it really didn't matter but it is frightening to wake up not knowing who you are.
edit: I kinda know what Taylor is going through. I was around four when I lost all my memories. Luckally I was young enough that it really didn't matter but it is frightening to wake up not knowing who you are.
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thor8797
Canadian Sterotype
I like to believe that there's a little bit more too it than that but I do agree that most of what makes a person who they are is their memories, experiences and upbringing/what they are taught.
I hope I'm not creating TINO here, and that I'm balancing her changed circumstances with what we know of her character.
- Location
- powell tn
From what I was told it was like night and day in who I was when I lost my memories. Mostly I think because I didn't know my family and was frightened. I was alright after a few weeks but I never did recover my memories. And we don't know why I lost them to begin with.
Edit: What is with all the hugs all of a sudden? It happened when I was 4. It was over 20 years ago.
Edit: What is with all the hugs all of a sudden? It happened when I was 4. It was over 20 years ago.
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Effigy - 1.X
thor8797
Canadian Sterotype
Effigy – 1.X
Director Emily Piggot was standing in the PRT building's sixth floor break room lost in thought and participating in one of the oldest traditions known to the office workplace.
Wasting time waiting for the coffee machine to finish making a full pot.
A beep pulled everyone's attention to the coffee maker; conversation tapered off and the line of people shuffled forward to fill their mugs.
Emily strode back to her office, a steaming mug in one hand and a file folder stuffed with today's work in the other she moved past the cubicles and offices that housed the various clerks who ensured the PRT continued to run; the gears in the eternal engine that took in paperwork and spewed out five times more.
"Morning", said Emily's secretary upon spotting her.
"Morning Daniels", she replied stepping past him into her own office. Windows covered by blinds made up the two walls opposite to the door while the remaining two where the same neutral blue as the rest of the building and bare of any decoration.
Dropping heavily into her chair she booted up the computer and flipped open the folder; the first sheet was a notice from the head office that Slaughterhouse was expected to re-emerge sometime in the next year and a half and all branches should be on the lookout for any suspicious cape disappearances. Emily didn't even bother to read the whole thing before tossing it in the garbage.
Capes disappeared all the time for any number of reasons, they'd never caught Jack Slash before Slaughterhouse went on one of their rampages and she wasn't sure why anyone thought they would now.
The second memo was just as redundant as the first, reminding every office that the third Endbringer attack of the year was due to happen soon; it quickly joined the first memo in the garbage.
Shaking her head she moved on to the next order of business; the paperwork assigning Hannah Smith, mid-level Protectorate office drone who was certainly not Miss Militia, as Taylor Hebert's guardian had made their way through the legal department. They just needed a few more signatures, flipping through the surprisingly small sheaf of papers to the lines indicated by the helpful 'sign here' arrows she filled them in with a practiced efficiency before dropping the bundle into the 'out' bin. The form still required signatures from Colin, Hannah and Taylor but at least it was out of her hair now.
'God only knows why they need my signature.'
Third order of business was the results and fallout of the recent gang war. Turning to her computer she hunted down the related files and used the office's projector to put the city map up on the wall before grabbing the file and moving to stand in front of it; it was definitely easier to see the big picture this way rather than squint at it on her monitor.
Territory hadn't shifted that much, a few streets in either direction at most. Only a few major fights, kept mostly out of the public eye thankfully; plenty of skirmishes, not too many suspected fatalities. Fortunately most of the aftermath investigations and arrests could be handled by the BBPD; she only needed to worry about what the cities' parahumans had been doing.
Reading further into the written report revealed some interesting things from their informants. Cricket was dead her apparent inability to wear a helmet finally catching up with her, Grue had done some enforcer work for the Silver Dragons and been paid with a set of tinker-material body armor of all things. And as usual Lung hadn't even bothered to leave his base, content with being the sword of Damocles hanging over everyone's head.
Finishing up the report she gave a sigh and walked over to the corner formed by the windows, tapping a button on her desk as she passed it. The blinds soundlessly pulled themselves up revealing downtown Brocton Bay, the bay itself and the Rig blinking with aircraft warning lights; all of it spread out before her and bathed in the morning light. It was almost beautiful if you could ignore the slightly dilapidated look of some of the buildings downtown, the fact that some of the buildings down by the docks had outright collapsed and the ship graveyard blocking sea access to the docks themselves.
It was rather depressing how little meaningful impact the PRT and Protectorate had had on the city especially in the last year or so. The Protectorate was dangerously undermanned with only three full members and three Wards they were outnumbered roughly four to one. Fortunately they would be getting reinforcements in the next few months and while Taylor Hebert hadn't officially joined the wards yet (she had needed a guardian first) there was little doubt in her mind that the girl would.
A stray thought caused her lips to curl up into an amused smirk, poor Ms. Hebert was going to end up as the darling of the PR department if nothing else; she was photogenic, had a non-objectionable power set, by all accounts was fairly pleasant to be around and came with a built in theme.
Emily's thought process was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Come in", she called.
Daniels poked his head in, "Just reminding you that you have a lunch appointment with Mr. Calvert at 11:30 ma'am." He spoke quickly before ducking out of the office, he had held his position long enough to realise that his boss loathed the man.
Back inside her office Emily's smirk had disappeared in an instant and been replaced with a scowl.
'There goes any chance of today being an alright day.'
------------------------------------------------
Colin Walis stood just inside the entrance to the labs with a mug of super coffee in one hand, a prototype piece of equipment in the other and a questioning eyebrow raised at the scene in front of him.
"Umm. . .", one of the lab techs said eloquently as he quickly shut off the blowtorch he had been holding to Taylor's forearm. The two techs monitoring the sensors were both trying to surreptitiously move into one of the side labs, Taylor herself gave Colin a small wave using her other arm causing some of the wires attached to the sensors on her to sway.
"Care to explain?" Colin asked the only reason he hadn't rushed in to stop the experiment (by force if necessary) was that Taylor didn't seem to be in any pain and by all appearances was a willing participant. Not that he wouldn't put a stop to the experiment if they didn't have a legitimate reason.
"We're trying to pick up on any kind of nervous signal", the tech explained, getting straight to the point to avoid irritating Colin. "We started off with motor responses before moving on to the other senses outside of taste without picking up anything. Mike over there was the one who suggested the pain response", the tech in question froze.
"A blowtorch seems extreme", prompted Colin.
"Well we didn't start with that, we started with a hot pad that would sting but not burn; we tested it ourselves first", he said a bit defensively when Colin's eyebrow returned to its raised position. "After that we found out that it didn't hurt her so we kept incrementing the heat on the pad up and checking for damage every time she touched it."
At that point the tech paused and looked back at Taylor, his colleagues and the equipment (especially the blowtorch) before turning back to Colin. "We may have gotten a bit sidetracked", He said holding his index and thumb slightly apart.
"We do have signed permission from both Taylor and Miss Militia", interjected lab tech number three (James) as he held up a sheaf of papers.
Colin had been on the other side of this situation when he gave Taylor her file, "And did you tell them the details of the experiments beforehand?"
"No but all of the clauses in here", he said shaking the pages for emphasis. "Say we can't cause any physical or psychological harm, Taylor needs to agree to every experiment and that she can back out at any time."
"Taylor?" Colin questioned.
"It doesn't hurt", she said. "I mean I know it should but I just feel heat not pain, there isn't even any damage", she held up her arm for inspection and true to her word the ceramic appeared pristine.
"Very well", Colin said, satisfied that that despite the questionable usefulness of the experiment itself they had at least covered all of their pre-test bases; given that they were testing in the Protectorate base it would reflect badly on him if they didn't. With that out of the way he returned to his original train of thought, "I need volunteers to test my current lie detector prototype software."
"Sure what exactly do you need?" James asked followed by general noises of agreement from the other techs and Taylor.
"Simply answer a few questions to help refine the software", Colin said holding the device up.
Testing the techs didn't take very long as they were only asked questions that were obvious truths or lies; Colin was pleased to see that his prototype was correct each time.
Taylor was up last since her responses would likely be the hardest for the lie detector to identify.
"Same type of questions as before", Colin said motioning for her to begin.
"My name is Taylor." True
"The sky is hot pink." True
"My hair is dark brown." True
"The world is flat." False
Colin frowned at the second response; he quickly went over what the problem could be before coming up with a short list of probable causes. The most likely reason was that the program just wasn't very good at coming to a conclusion based solely on body language, the second was a simple software glitch; it was still alpha level code after all.
"You ok?" Taylor asked, Colin having been lost in thought.
"Yes, thank you all for your cooperation", he said still ruminating on how to improve the code as he headed back to his lab. On the plus side it gave him the opportunity to work on another project with Dragon.
------------------------------------------------
In one timeline Thomas Calvert went to his lunch meeting with Director Piggot and considered ways to work around the latest complication to his plans; in the other he sat in his office and considered ways to remove the complication. The complication in question was of course Taylor Hebert or more accurately, her sensory power.
He liked to keep tabs on the city's parahuman population for exactly that reason; wildcards that came out of nowhere and ruined previously well-established plans. A few favours burned in a discarded timeline had gained him access to the doll-girl's file and more importantly, knowledge about her powers.
Piggot and Armsmaster would have to be complete idiots not to abuse her powers to identify all of the capes in the city; the only way to avoid it would be to not have a secret identity.
Timeline A Calvert took that idea and ran with it; did he need a secret identity, or rather did he need one beyond a name?
Timeline B Calvert considered eliminating his problem with explosives or arranging for an 'accident'.
------------------------------------------------
Time; there never seemed to be enough of it.
Doctor Mother looked at the scattered stacks of papers that covered her desk; reports, requests, theories, observations, updates and more.
Bonesaw was asking for some more unpowered samples so that she could do a practical test on her method of forcing an agent to connect to a host. If it worked it would allow them to grant powers without the same risks that came with taking one of their vials, on top of that it would bring them closer to their ultimate goal; manipulating the programming of the agents themselves.
"Dragon", she spoke to the empty room.
"Yes?" Came Dragon's reply her voice carrying a trace of irritation. She couldn't decide who she despised more; Saint for being a self-righteous, deluded, petty asshole on a power trip, or Cauldron as a whole and Doctor Mother in particular. While they definitely had higher goals than Saint (not a difficult achievement all things considered) there apparently wasn't a single moral or ethical line they wouldn't cross in pursuit of it.
The fact that Cauldron were the ones holding her leash now rankled on several levels.
Doctor Mother knew that Dragon's irritation was directed at her and ignored it, "Send a message to Fortuna that I would like her to create an operational plan for the Headhunters' next mission; she'll know the details."
"I'll do that", Dragon replied her voice flat; revising her earlier thoughts she added a bit of pettiness to the other woman's list of faults.
The door to the office opened and in stepped on of Bonesaw's creations; a robotic body topped with a blank faced human head. Within the chassis sat all of the artificial organs needed to keep the former experiment alive; this particular sample had been used to test Cauldron's new method of forcing agents to disconnect from a host without killing them.
Doctor Mother subtly leaned away from the mindless cyborg as it walked up to her desk to place the stack of papers it had been carrying on one of the few remaining clear spots on the desk before leaving the office. The woman behind the desk watched it go with a frown; in all honesty she found some of the girl's side projects to be unnecessarily creepy. At least it kept her occupied when she wasn't working on their main project and didn't require much in the way of resources beyond what could be recycled from previous experiments.
Who knew, one of those side projects might end up helping to save humanity.
Doctor Mother pulled the first sheet off the stack and began reading; and thus began another day for Cauldron.
-------------------------------------
A/N: I'd like to apologise for how long this took.
