Fate/In Glory Of (Worm)
- Thread starter Jefardi
- Start date
- Crossover Modern Superhero
[X] Power experimentation
So, how long until Taylor can go full shoulderloli teenager?
So, how long until Taylor can go full shoulder
"Onii-chan!" Taylor says happily as she hugs her red haired younger brother.
Problem with that is Taylor is a half foot taller than Ilya and ergo isn't quite as short in comparison. Still short but not as quite.
Yup. Kinda funny about the divide on it too.
- Pronouns
- He
Ah, SB vs SV I see lmao
Arche 02.01
[X] Power experimentation
Friday found Taylor sitting on a knocked over tree.
Same tree remains from the one that the giant had punched in half last time.
The past three days had been… something out of, well, dream might not have been the right word. To be more accurate, it was like Taylor's body was operating on autopilot, as she took the placement tests over the past two days. Monday was her first day at Clarendon.
Three days ago was the last time she would have to step foot in Winslow.
The thought was still novel to her.
This was also the first day in a whole week she had been able to come back to testing her power's, er, power. At home all she had been able to do was measure the times he was made material. Said times had continued to increase, though with no discernible pattern she could find – still, it was going up.
It was also nice to have him materialized. It was as close as Taylor could feel to having human contact without worrying about her safety (the bullies), or how she was being viewed (classmates) or worrying someone (her dad).
...on some level she could acknowledge that sounded sad, but on another she shoved those concerns into a shoe-box and then off a cliff.
Golden motes fluttered down revealing the giant.
Taylor pointed to the earth next to the giant. "Stay here, please."
The giant did not say anything, but his eyes tracked Taylor as she jogged away, glancing back every so often. After five, seven, ten minutes, she had gotten close to half a mile away, and could see that he was still where she had ordered him to stay. That was good. He had some object permanence.
Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted; "come here!"
A thump rang out as he disappeared from view. She had barely blinked before she recognized the approaching airborne shape, as over a quarter ton of muscle and sinew landed two dozen feet from her, on both feet- a feat that should have shattered his legs from covering such a distance in a handful of seconds.
He's fast.
Well, it was time for the next part of the testing.
She was not looking forward to this. Not at all.
Durability.
The thing was, it was really hard to test; she felt… ill at ease at the thought of trying to harm the giant. Somewhere inside of her, she knew she wouldn't be judged for it. That made it worse.
She had brought a kitchen knife.
Taylor looked up at his yellow eyes which looked back at her impassively.
"I-I'm sorry. I need to test. If you have any objections, please say them now?" The sound of trees creaking in the air was all she got. "I'm sorry. Hopefully this doesn't hurt. I guess." Her grip tightened on the knife. "Hold out an arm."
His right arm came to a stop in front of her.
A second hand joined the first one on the blade to steady it.
"I'm sorry."
She didn't know what else to say, as she poked his bicep gently.
It was like trying to stab granite. The blade started to skitter away from his skin before making an actual cut.
Okay, so he has toughened skin.
Still, she want- needed to know.
The knife bent after she tried, before falling away from the giant, clanging lightly as it hit a tree root and clattered onto the forest floor.
Yet that's not what occupied her thoughts.
It felt like she was trying to stab a guard dog.
The lack of judgment hurt the most- it was a victimless crime, no one had even been hurt. But… still…
She dismissed him as she wanted to be as alone as she could right now.
Taylor never saw the hand coming up to pat her on the shoulder before he was gone.
Monday began with an early wake up.
Clarendon was not close by. In the future, Taylor was going to have to take the bus to get back and forth but today she was going to get a ride from her dad – he needed to finish with paperwork at the school.
She only had to wake up at six instead of five, thankfully.
Both her and dad were quiet in the car. Taylor knew she could be talking, that it would probably be easier than the silence between them. Easier on her nerves, too, distractions were like that. Knowing that did not make it any easier to start speaking.
It seemed a lot easier to go to something different, something new when it was merely a daydream to escape Winslow. The reality of it was both far grander and mundane than anything.
She was given a map for where her classes were when they had finished the paperwork and told to get to classes that started in half an hour.
Turns out that high schools that aren't a hub for gang activity are kind of boring. Unique for Taylor, with the lack of graffiti and vandalized or open gang affiliations…
...or people trying to trip her. Among other things.
Besides the odd curious look or question she even got through classes mostly without issue, well, besides a large volume of makeup work that she was given. It was going to be eating through her free time, that was for sure.
At least none of the teachers had called on her. Small mercies.
Third period Chemistry class ended when the bell rang, and she was presented with the first opportunity for something she had long been denied at Winslow; a cheap school-made lunch. With the actual chance to sit down in the lunchroom!
This was how she ended up with a styrofoam container full of warm spaghetti and only slightly questionable meatballs. Truly the pinnacle of culinary experiences. At least as far as she was concerned. Now that just left her to find a place to sit.
The problem with that, was she knew literally no one here, no idea about any of the social cliques, absolutely nothing. She maybe knew five peoples' names and that was from hearing them get called on in class of which she saw none of them.
Though, she did know one person, even if she didn't know her name.
There was a girl wearing shorts and a hoodie covered in smiley faces not even sitting at a table, rather against a wall, on the floor, with a notepad in front of her, sketching the room, eyes darting around, her tongue sticking out slightly.
No one walked within ten feet of her, and distinctly looked around her, as if she wasn't there.
It was very much like what she expected looking at herself at Winslow had been like, socially speaking. Another outcast. One who was getting mentioned as a creep, weirdo or quiet freak in quiet murmurs.
Alternatively, if Taylor didn't want to commit social suicide on the very first day, she could find someone who was sitting alone and try and socialize with them- trying to insert herself into a group seemed like a terrible idea. Problematically there weren't many that fit the bill. Or any that she felt comfortable approaching.
There was, however, a girl in a wheelchair, sitting at the end of one of the long lunch tables, rather sullenly stabbing at a steak burger.
...on second thought, maybe Taylor wasn't quite ready for talking with an age peer, but given how the girl was staring violent bloody murder at the table, Taylor was pretty sure sitting in the vague vicinity of her would keep anyone from talking to her.
Alternatively she could cram the food into her mouth as fast as possible and make for the library- no one would talk to her there, right? That's still an improvement over Winslow! No more hiding in the bathrooms to eat a dry pita wrap!
...even if Taylor was tempted to hide in one for lunch. Just for the first day.
No need to rush it, right?
Where does Taylor eat her lunch?
[] Commit social suicide; approach the outcast.
[] Near angry wheelchair girl; her rage will keep everyone else away, right?
[] Consume food as quickly as possible and check out the library.
[] Alone, with her invisible friend because she is a loser. It may or may not be in the bathroom.
Author's Note: Hello, good day, have a new post. Go vote!
I got nothing else to really add. The vote got really close, which was neat. 15 for experiment, 11 for research, and 1 for prep. Honestly wasn't expecting it to get as close as it was.
Keep up the voting and discussion, its really helping to keep me motivated!
Friday found Taylor sitting on a knocked over tree.
Same tree remains from the one that the giant had punched in half last time.
The past three days had been… something out of, well, dream might not have been the right word. To be more accurate, it was like Taylor's body was operating on autopilot, as she took the placement tests over the past two days. Monday was her first day at Clarendon.
Three days ago was the last time she would have to step foot in Winslow.
The thought was still novel to her.
This was also the first day in a whole week she had been able to come back to testing her power's, er, power. At home all she had been able to do was measure the times he was made material. Said times had continued to increase, though with no discernible pattern she could find – still, it was going up.
It was also nice to have him materialized. It was as close as Taylor could feel to having human contact without worrying about her safety (the bullies), or how she was being viewed (classmates) or worrying someone (her dad).
...on some level she could acknowledge that sounded sad, but on another she shoved those concerns into a shoe-box and then off a cliff.
Golden motes fluttered down revealing the giant.
Taylor pointed to the earth next to the giant. "Stay here, please."
The giant did not say anything, but his eyes tracked Taylor as she jogged away, glancing back every so often. After five, seven, ten minutes, she had gotten close to half a mile away, and could see that he was still where she had ordered him to stay. That was good. He had some object permanence.
Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted; "come here!"
A thump rang out as he disappeared from view. She had barely blinked before she recognized the approaching airborne shape, as over a quarter ton of muscle and sinew landed two dozen feet from her, on both feet- a feat that should have shattered his legs from covering such a distance in a handful of seconds.
He's fast.
Well, it was time for the next part of the testing.
She was not looking forward to this. Not at all.
Durability.
The thing was, it was really hard to test; she felt… ill at ease at the thought of trying to harm the giant. Somewhere inside of her, she knew she wouldn't be judged for it. That made it worse.
She had brought a kitchen knife.
Taylor looked up at his yellow eyes which looked back at her impassively.
"I-I'm sorry. I need to test. If you have any objections, please say them now?" The sound of trees creaking in the air was all she got. "I'm sorry. Hopefully this doesn't hurt. I guess." Her grip tightened on the knife. "Hold out an arm."
His right arm came to a stop in front of her.
A second hand joined the first one on the blade to steady it.
"I'm sorry."
She didn't know what else to say, as she poked his bicep gently.
It was like trying to stab granite. The blade started to skitter away from his skin before making an actual cut.
Okay, so he has toughened skin.
Still, she want- needed to know.
The knife bent after she tried, before falling away from the giant, clanging lightly as it hit a tree root and clattered onto the forest floor.
Yet that's not what occupied her thoughts.
It felt like she was trying to stab a guard dog.
The lack of judgment hurt the most- it was a victimless crime, no one had even been hurt. But… still…
She dismissed him as she wanted to be as alone as she could right now.
Taylor never saw the hand coming up to pat her on the shoulder before he was gone.
Monday began with an early wake up.
Clarendon was not close by. In the future, Taylor was going to have to take the bus to get back and forth but today she was going to get a ride from her dad – he needed to finish with paperwork at the school.
She only had to wake up at six instead of five, thankfully.
Both her and dad were quiet in the car. Taylor knew she could be talking, that it would probably be easier than the silence between them. Easier on her nerves, too, distractions were like that. Knowing that did not make it any easier to start speaking.
It seemed a lot easier to go to something different, something new when it was merely a daydream to escape Winslow. The reality of it was both far grander and mundane than anything.
She was given a map for where her classes were when they had finished the paperwork and told to get to classes that started in half an hour.
Turns out that high schools that aren't a hub for gang activity are kind of boring. Unique for Taylor, with the lack of graffiti and vandalized or open gang affiliations…
...or people trying to trip her. Among other things.
Besides the odd curious look or question she even got through classes mostly without issue, well, besides a large volume of makeup work that she was given. It was going to be eating through her free time, that was for sure.
At least none of the teachers had called on her. Small mercies.
Third period Chemistry class ended when the bell rang, and she was presented with the first opportunity for something she had long been denied at Winslow; a cheap school-made lunch. With the actual chance to sit down in the lunchroom!
This was how she ended up with a styrofoam container full of warm spaghetti and only slightly questionable meatballs. Truly the pinnacle of culinary experiences. At least as far as she was concerned. Now that just left her to find a place to sit.
The problem with that, was she knew literally no one here, no idea about any of the social cliques, absolutely nothing. She maybe knew five peoples' names and that was from hearing them get called on in class of which she saw none of them.
Though, she did know one person, even if she didn't know her name.
There was a girl wearing shorts and a hoodie covered in smiley faces not even sitting at a table, rather against a wall, on the floor, with a notepad in front of her, sketching the room, eyes darting around, her tongue sticking out slightly.
No one walked within ten feet of her, and distinctly looked around her, as if she wasn't there.
It was very much like what she expected looking at herself at Winslow had been like, socially speaking. Another outcast. One who was getting mentioned as a creep, weirdo or quiet freak in quiet murmurs.
Alternatively, if Taylor didn't want to commit social suicide on the very first day, she could find someone who was sitting alone and try and socialize with them- trying to insert herself into a group seemed like a terrible idea. Problematically there weren't many that fit the bill. Or any that she felt comfortable approaching.
There was, however, a girl in a wheelchair, sitting at the end of one of the long lunch tables, rather sullenly stabbing at a steak burger.
...on second thought, maybe Taylor wasn't quite ready for talking with an age peer, but given how the girl was staring violent bloody murder at the table, Taylor was pretty sure sitting in the vague vicinity of her would keep anyone from talking to her.
Alternatively she could cram the food into her mouth as fast as possible and make for the library- no one would talk to her there, right? That's still an improvement over Winslow! No more hiding in the bathrooms to eat a dry pita wrap!
...even if Taylor was tempted to hide in one for lunch. Just for the first day.
No need to rush it, right?
Where does Taylor eat her lunch?
[] Commit social suicide; approach the outcast.
[] Near angry wheelchair girl; her rage will keep everyone else away, right?
[] Consume food as quickly as possible and check out the library.
[] Alone, with her invisible friend because she is a loser. It may or may not be in the bathroom.
Author's Note: Hello, good day, have a new post. Go vote!
I got nothing else to really add. The vote got really close, which was neat. 15 for experiment, 11 for research, and 1 for prep. Honestly wasn't expecting it to get as close as it was.
Keep up the voting and discussion, its really helping to keep me motivated!
KindredVoid
Shard Whisperer
Hmm. The choices seem pretty straight forwards.
[Crossposted] Commit social suicide; approach the outcast.
Honestly, I like this one. Jump start Taylor's choices of helping people. And the girl doesn't seem that weird honestly, and we all know how teens can be.
[] Near angry wheelchair girl; her rage will keep everyone else away, right?.
Let's not piss of the girl with a knife.. clearly she wants to be alone for a reason or another and invading her space is a bad idea.
[] Consume food as quickly as possible and check out the library.
Then again. I also loved going to the library when I still went to school. Even if just to listen to music and work on my first attempts at fan fiction. Taylor's had a rough day, maybe a break is in order?
[] Alone, with her invisible friend because she is a loser. It may or may not be in the bathroom.
Boooo. This sucks. Taylor deserves FRIENDS!
[Crossposted] Commit social suicide; approach the outcast.
Honestly, I like this one. Jump start Taylor's choices of helping people. And the girl doesn't seem that weird honestly, and we all know how teens can be.
[] Near angry wheelchair girl; her rage will keep everyone else away, right?.
Let's not piss of the girl with a knife.. clearly she wants to be alone for a reason or another and invading her space is a bad idea.
[] Consume food as quickly as possible and check out the library.
Then again. I also loved going to the library when I still went to school. Even if just to listen to music and work on my first attempts at fan fiction. Taylor's had a rough day, maybe a break is in order?
[] Alone, with her invisible friend because she is a loser. It may or may not be in the bathroom.
Boooo. This sucks. Taylor deserves FRIENDS!
My dude, what do you think the giant is? It's her bestest friend of all time.
[x] Commit social suicide; approach the outcast.
Iris-Iven-Ibis
Interested-Idiot-Immortal
- Location
- You know
[x] Commit social suicide; approach the outcast.
Because we should be like Canon Taylor in all things
Because we should be like Canon Taylor in all things
Eternal_0bserver
(Unverified Bookworm)
- Location
- Earth, Northern Europe
[X] Near angry wheelchair girl; her rage will keep everyone else away, right?.
The first girl seems more like a big weirdo, while the berserker girl seems like someone who really needs a friend.
The first girl seems more like a big weirdo, while the berserker girl seems like someone who really needs a friend.
[x] Commit social suicide; approach the outcast.
We don't but all the fanfic I have read put her in Immaculata for some reason, probably because is a Christian school
Last edited:
Ha! Which option do you think is Rune, then?
Oh god, we are setting her up with Rune but… the two options we're voting on could make Rune.
Wheelchair girl - Immobilisation, Triggers involving that make Movers.
Outcast - This ALSO makes movers.
...I never said anyone was Rune. I also didn't not say it could be Rune. I make no promises but also no lies. Nothing is true, everything is permitted!
Arche 02.02
[X] Commit social suicide; approach the outcast.
Taylor knew what it was like to be an outcast.
In fact, one could even say that she had more experience in that particular high school social role than any other. They would also, depressingly, be right.
Maybe because this school didn't quite reek of gang violence or maybe because Taylor had been away from Winslow for almost a full week but she… wanted to make someone's life positive. Be the person she had always wanted. The one that would sometimes appear before being forced out by peer pressure.
Even if every instinct in her was screaming at her to not commit probable ostracism on her first day. She knew that those who had interacted with her at Winslow, for however brief it was, didn't tend to be viewed well. Even if it was a few short conversations was all that they had shared.
With all that in mind, she walked towards the rather tall girl.
She seemed rather engrossed in her drawing, viewing the entire cafeteria with darting gray eyes. Said darting gray eyes focused on her as she approached as Taylor came to a realization; how the hell did one start up a conversation based on pity?
Conversations went through her head, one after another as she tried to figure out what would sound the least patronizing when she was in Winslow.
Maybe socializing had not been the best idea?
Abort, abort, abort!
It was too late, eye contact had been established.
Option 1, break eye contact and keep walking.
Optio-
"Hello."
Curse you ingrained social etiquette, curse you! If this had been Winslow, she wouldn't have said anything. This school was making her let down her guard.
The girl set the art-pad down, practically leaping to her feet in one smooth motion. "Hi! Hello!" she smiled, teeth straight and white as snow, "I'm Nikki! Who are you?!"
"I'm Taylor."
While her face may have been mostly blank, mentally she was cringing. She could do better than that, right? Right?
"That's a cool name!" Nikki replied, her lips not dipping from the smile, "do you want to be friends?!"
Taylor blinked.
...what?
Is this normal? This doesn't seem normal. Taylor hadn't had any friends in a long time and she barely remembered a time before she was friends with Emma, let alone actually befriending her, but she was pretty sure this wasn't how friendship usually went in high school.
"Sure."
The girl grabbed the art-pad that she had set down, "Awesome! Cool!" We can do lots of friend stuff together. Here, let me draw you!" Without letting Taylor say a word, she flipped through a bunch of pages in the art-pad before grabbing her pencil and started to sketch in rapid motions.
Green eyes widened in panic as Taylor looked at the paper.
Is this girl making fun of her?
That seemed to be the natural conclusion given in the span of about fifteen seconds she had decided they were friends and started to sketch her. Was it some subtle form of bullying? That would make sense if the school was stricter on cracking down on it then Winslow.
The giant shifted his stance, giving her a reminder of her new and very powerful safety net. One whose usage would not go well. Still. What could it hurt?
Her eyes glanced at her styrofoam container, a motion that Nikki tracked, looking back up at Taylor's face unerringly while drawing, "do you want to sit somewhere for lunch?" 'Other than on the dirty floor' went unsaid.
Nikki nodded, the motion jerky. "Okay! Let's go eat outside! I don't have lunch, someone took mine." Taylor's estimation of her authenticity went up. "But that's okay, they must have needed it!" She turned on her heels in a fluid motion and pointed to the large panes of glass decorating one wall of the cafeteria. "Let's eat outside! It's nice weather today!"
Taylor looked at the windows. It was nice weather outside, as long as one agreed that nice weather involved grey skies, and the snow flurry from mid-January weather. She looked back at Nikki, "Uh, the tables are covered in snow out there." That was being generous, more like half a foot of snow. Also she didn't have a winter jacket with her. Or gloves. Or particularly wanted to eat outside. Or away from others with a stranger. "How about something inside?"
The girl laughed as she returned to sketching, "You Americans are so scared by a bit of cold! Okay friend! Let's sit down at one of the tables! Lead on!"
With some of the faster eaters in the lunchroom now gone, there were free tables, or rather, sections of the long tables. As Taylor took a seat at the nearest one, she finally opened her food and stared at it for a moment, before being pulled out of the view by Nikki sitting down, still sketching apparently.
She didn't seem foreign.
Her skin was pale, and had a dirty blonde hair colour. None of her clothes had any non-English writing on it- admittedly it was mostly smiley faces.
Would it be rude to ask where she's from? No, she gave that as an obvious question, right? Right. "You aren't American?" Taylor asked as she opened the plastic wrap on her silverware.
"Da! I am from Russia!" Oh, European. Neato. "Though, recently things were not so good there. So my parents sent me and my Babuska here ahead of them." She paused for a moment.
The permanently affixed smile on her face slowly fell. Her face became placid, almost sad. "Though. Since my Mother died, my Father has not been the same. I fear he will not be joining us." Instead of her excited, fast pace of talking. Her words were slower with the weight of the subject.
Taylor barely kept herself from choking on her spaghetti at the information. She wouldn't tell anyone that her mom died just after meeting them. What do you even say to that? Give condolences? That would sound absolutely fake. A mere nicety.
"But!" Nikki started, flipping emotions like one would a switch. "I live in America now, where the Parahumans wear costumes and fight like Hollywood! And I have made a friend!" She put her pencil down and turned the art pad around to show a 1:1 sketch of Taylor's head, a near perfect rendition, except for the small top hat resting perfectly atop her head.
Well, that was a nice change in topics.
"Tada! it is you, with a hat!" Nikki said, a beaming smile pasted on her face.
"Have you been drawing a long time?" That actually sounded like what a normal person might say! Success!
"...yes! But no." Nikki admitted. "Had to do a lot of still life, but never got to explore stuff. See?! You don't have a hat but I drew you with one!" She tapped the art before setting the pad down. She seemed quite proud of it, inordinately so in Taylor's eyes. "What do you like to do?!" Nikki suddenly asked.
Taylor finished another bite as she ruminated on what she even did for fun, including one with a meatball, which was surprisingly not plasticky - Clarendon was surprisingly good about their food. "I like reading." She chewed on a breadstick. "I just finished Roadside Picnic." Was that stereotyping to bring it up because Nikki was Russian?
Nikki nodded. "Yes, I have not read that one. I like art, and parahumans here. They are fun, not like ones back in the Motherland." Taylor wouldn't consider the gang problem to be fun. "They do not run the government here. Which makes them less scary, and the colorful costumes!"
"What are they like in Russia?"
"They are like the gangs here, but only one of them, and they run everything. You do what they tell you, or else." Nikki stated, voice serious along with her expression. "No costumes. No fun action fighting. They are military, that is that."
"Is a rage dragon that runs a gang that preferable?"
"Would you prefer him to be the mayor?" Nikki asked as she flipped to another page and began to draw again.
"No."
"I will take the city here over a city there. Plus, no Sleeper!" She hummed softly, sketching.
She turned the sketchpad around, it showed a masked Lung with a big head in a suit in front of a podium with a finger raised lazily in the air. "Good?"
Taylor gave a thumbs up as she ate, only for Nikki to start working on something new, chatting about how to shade with different pencils.
At least Taylor wasn't going to be eating lunch alone and had made a maybe friend.
Maybe this won't be so bad?
Taylor was staring at the school with some level of misery haze clouding her mind. Also known as lack of sleep. She had to wake up early to get to the bus and her new school on time.
At least she had a good half an hour to read before classes st-
A shadow covered her, jolting her thoughts.
"Hello Taylor! It's me, Nikki!"
It took Taylor an embarrassing amount of time to realize the girl was inches away from her, with an unwavering smile, staring into her eyes.
Taylor jerked, falling backwards in fright.
A lazy thought floated through her head as Nikki helped her up, apologies rolling off her tongue.
I have regrets.
What is Taylor going to do over the next week when she has free time?
[] Patrol
[] Research the cape scene in Brockton Bay
[] Power experimentation
[] Costume/Name/Presentation Preparations
Author's Note: Hi Nikki!
Go vote!
Taylor knew what it was like to be an outcast.
In fact, one could even say that she had more experience in that particular high school social role than any other. They would also, depressingly, be right.
Maybe because this school didn't quite reek of gang violence or maybe because Taylor had been away from Winslow for almost a full week but she… wanted to make someone's life positive. Be the person she had always wanted. The one that would sometimes appear before being forced out by peer pressure.
Even if every instinct in her was screaming at her to not commit probable ostracism on her first day. She knew that those who had interacted with her at Winslow, for however brief it was, didn't tend to be viewed well. Even if it was a few short conversations was all that they had shared.
With all that in mind, she walked towards the rather tall girl.
She seemed rather engrossed in her drawing, viewing the entire cafeteria with darting gray eyes. Said darting gray eyes focused on her as she approached as Taylor came to a realization; how the hell did one start up a conversation based on pity?
Conversations went through her head, one after another as she tried to figure out what would sound the least patronizing when she was in Winslow.
Maybe socializing had not been the best idea?
Abort, abort, abort!
It was too late, eye contact had been established.
Option 1, break eye contact and keep walking.
Optio-
"Hello."
Curse you ingrained social etiquette, curse you! If this had been Winslow, she wouldn't have said anything. This school was making her let down her guard.
The girl set the art-pad down, practically leaping to her feet in one smooth motion. "Hi! Hello!" she smiled, teeth straight and white as snow, "I'm Nikki! Who are you?!"
"I'm Taylor."
While her face may have been mostly blank, mentally she was cringing. She could do better than that, right? Right?
"That's a cool name!" Nikki replied, her lips not dipping from the smile, "do you want to be friends?!"
Taylor blinked.
...what?
Is this normal? This doesn't seem normal. Taylor hadn't had any friends in a long time and she barely remembered a time before she was friends with Emma, let alone actually befriending her, but she was pretty sure this wasn't how friendship usually went in high school.
"Sure."
The girl grabbed the art-pad that she had set down, "Awesome! Cool!" We can do lots of friend stuff together. Here, let me draw you!" Without letting Taylor say a word, she flipped through a bunch of pages in the art-pad before grabbing her pencil and started to sketch in rapid motions.
Green eyes widened in panic as Taylor looked at the paper.
Is this girl making fun of her?
That seemed to be the natural conclusion given in the span of about fifteen seconds she had decided they were friends and started to sketch her. Was it some subtle form of bullying? That would make sense if the school was stricter on cracking down on it then Winslow.
The giant shifted his stance, giving her a reminder of her new and very powerful safety net. One whose usage would not go well. Still. What could it hurt?
Her eyes glanced at her styrofoam container, a motion that Nikki tracked, looking back up at Taylor's face unerringly while drawing, "do you want to sit somewhere for lunch?" 'Other than on the dirty floor' went unsaid.
Nikki nodded, the motion jerky. "Okay! Let's go eat outside! I don't have lunch, someone took mine." Taylor's estimation of her authenticity went up. "But that's okay, they must have needed it!" She turned on her heels in a fluid motion and pointed to the large panes of glass decorating one wall of the cafeteria. "Let's eat outside! It's nice weather today!"
Taylor looked at the windows. It was nice weather outside, as long as one agreed that nice weather involved grey skies, and the snow flurry from mid-January weather. She looked back at Nikki, "Uh, the tables are covered in snow out there." That was being generous, more like half a foot of snow. Also she didn't have a winter jacket with her. Or gloves. Or particularly wanted to eat outside. Or away from others with a stranger. "How about something inside?"
The girl laughed as she returned to sketching, "You Americans are so scared by a bit of cold! Okay friend! Let's sit down at one of the tables! Lead on!"
With some of the faster eaters in the lunchroom now gone, there were free tables, or rather, sections of the long tables. As Taylor took a seat at the nearest one, she finally opened her food and stared at it for a moment, before being pulled out of the view by Nikki sitting down, still sketching apparently.
She didn't seem foreign.
Her skin was pale, and had a dirty blonde hair colour. None of her clothes had any non-English writing on it- admittedly it was mostly smiley faces.
Would it be rude to ask where she's from? No, she gave that as an obvious question, right? Right. "You aren't American?" Taylor asked as she opened the plastic wrap on her silverware.
"Da! I am from Russia!" Oh, European. Neato. "Though, recently things were not so good there. So my parents sent me and my Babuska here ahead of them." She paused for a moment.
The permanently affixed smile on her face slowly fell. Her face became placid, almost sad. "Though. Since my Mother died, my Father has not been the same. I fear he will not be joining us." Instead of her excited, fast pace of talking. Her words were slower with the weight of the subject.
Taylor barely kept herself from choking on her spaghetti at the information. She wouldn't tell anyone that her mom died just after meeting them. What do you even say to that? Give condolences? That would sound absolutely fake. A mere nicety.
"But!" Nikki started, flipping emotions like one would a switch. "I live in America now, where the Parahumans wear costumes and fight like Hollywood! And I have made a friend!" She put her pencil down and turned the art pad around to show a 1:1 sketch of Taylor's head, a near perfect rendition, except for the small top hat resting perfectly atop her head.
Well, that was a nice change in topics.
"Tada! it is you, with a hat!" Nikki said, a beaming smile pasted on her face.
"Have you been drawing a long time?" That actually sounded like what a normal person might say! Success!
"...yes! But no." Nikki admitted. "Had to do a lot of still life, but never got to explore stuff. See?! You don't have a hat but I drew you with one!" She tapped the art before setting the pad down. She seemed quite proud of it, inordinately so in Taylor's eyes. "What do you like to do?!" Nikki suddenly asked.
Taylor finished another bite as she ruminated on what she even did for fun, including one with a meatball, which was surprisingly not plasticky - Clarendon was surprisingly good about their food. "I like reading." She chewed on a breadstick. "I just finished Roadside Picnic." Was that stereotyping to bring it up because Nikki was Russian?
Nikki nodded. "Yes, I have not read that one. I like art, and parahumans here. They are fun, not like ones back in the Motherland." Taylor wouldn't consider the gang problem to be fun. "They do not run the government here. Which makes them less scary, and the colorful costumes!"
"What are they like in Russia?"
"They are like the gangs here, but only one of them, and they run everything. You do what they tell you, or else." Nikki stated, voice serious along with her expression. "No costumes. No fun action fighting. They are military, that is that."
"Is a rage dragon that runs a gang that preferable?"
"Would you prefer him to be the mayor?" Nikki asked as she flipped to another page and began to draw again.
"No."
"I will take the city here over a city there. Plus, no Sleeper!" She hummed softly, sketching.
She turned the sketchpad around, it showed a masked Lung with a big head in a suit in front of a podium with a finger raised lazily in the air. "Good?"
Taylor gave a thumbs up as she ate, only for Nikki to start working on something new, chatting about how to shade with different pencils.
At least Taylor wasn't going to be eating lunch alone and had made a maybe friend.
Maybe this won't be so bad?
Taylor was staring at the school with some level of misery haze clouding her mind. Also known as lack of sleep. She had to wake up early to get to the bus and her new school on time.
At least she had a good half an hour to read before classes st-
A shadow covered her, jolting her thoughts.
"Hello Taylor! It's me, Nikki!"
It took Taylor an embarrassing amount of time to realize the girl was inches away from her, with an unwavering smile, staring into her eyes.
Taylor jerked, falling backwards in fright.
A lazy thought floated through her head as Nikki helped her up, apologies rolling off her tongue.
I have regrets.
What is Taylor going to do over the next week when she has free time?
[] Patrol
[] Research the cape scene in Brockton Bay
[] Power experimentation
[] Costume/Name/Presentation Preparations
Author's Note: Hi Nikki!
Go vote!
KindredVoid
Shard Whisperer
[crossposted] Research the cape scene in Brockton Bay
We should really do this before we Patrol.
Also Nikki is cute!
We should really do this before we Patrol.
Also Nikki is cute!
It's better than the alternative believe me not talking with anyone is only fun for the first few months but after a while, you will become painfully aware of everyone else's happiness and human connections, but anyway into the vote
[X] Research the cape scene in Brockton Bay