- Location
- Belfast
Sure he can catch her... It's the keeping her trapped is the problem
.I see fire. Lots of fire....
Firebird, a Worm AU/Xover?
- Thread starter chibipoe
- Start date
.I see fire. Lots of fire....
chibipoe
May I tell you of the glory that is Catradora?
- Location
- Astoria, Oregon
You?
I am only an instrument by which the story is told. What direction it goes in isn't up to me.
Dirty Lies, in the PMs where you were helping me on Archdemon you said this:
You've planned it all(-ish) out.
Thank you BTW. Your pointers actually made me consider things I would have never thought of until I was sitting there wrote into a corner.
chibipoe
May I tell you of the glory that is Catradora?
- Location
- Astoria, Oregon
You're welcome.
And always look like you have a plan, even if you don't.
Seriously, though. I have the major things set but I try to keep enough fluidity in everything else, and I do get surprised when something I hadn't been planning occurred. There's also nothing to say that something unexpected won't derail my plans, also. I know at least one author that I was following as she was writing a book and she commented on how things changed while writing. What was supposed to be one book became three, then five books(this was mostly because while in the middle/later stages of the second book of 3, the characters took off in a direction she had not been anticipating and then bam, she had 4 books, followed by it becoming five total to complete the third arc of the series.
- Location
- Switzerland
You're welcome.
And always look like you have a plan, even if you don't.
Seriously, though. I have the major things set but I try to keep enough fluidity in everything else, and I do get surprised when something I hadn't been planning occurred. There's also nothing to say that something unexpected won't derail my plans, also. I know at least one author that I was following as she was writing a book and she commented on how things changed while writing. What was supposed to be one book became three, then five books(this was mostly because while in the middle/later stages of the second book of 3, the characters took off in a direction she had not been anticipating and then bam, she had 4 books, followed by it becoming five total to complete the third arc of the series.
I know that feeling. I just had one plot get derailed by my characters - what was planned to be the focus of the story for a few months was solved on the first day, so to speak.
Selonianth
Writer of Words
Definitely, wasn't arguing that. It's why I'm fairly positive he didn't know she's Sirin or was massively unaware of her tk. Wasn't the PRT surprised to hear about her tk?
chibipoe
May I tell you of the glory that is Catradora?
- Location
- Astoria, Oregon
Armsmaster was, but he saw it in display.
Next arc will will definitively answer the questions of what Coil knows and doesn't know, if I ever get to it. I want this stupid arc done. x.x
Apologies that I've missed my 1 story post a week thing.
Things happen and muses can be uncooperative. Don't worry about it.
Selonianth
Writer of Words
So Coil didn't know then. Not if he was getting his info from the PRT. Armsmaster would know everything anyone in the PRT would know.
Sasha
Not the Leader
- Location
- The Ever After
Don't worry about it, just take your time.
Inspiration?
Omake:
Again.
Once more I split reality, a faint headache growing behind by eyes as I did so.
"Attack from the northeast section"
"Roger that. Move out!"
Again
The Headache builds, but I simply must know.
"Attack from the rooftops"
"Roger that. Move out!"
Dammit again!
Searing pain lances into my head, this is the last one for today.
"Attack fro-"
"Target lost sir, Orders?"
Fuck!
"Fall back to base." Calming myself, I end the call and press the intercom.
"Reeves, status on primary target"
"Estimated time until Subject ready for capture is 96 hours sir."
"Good, that is all."
Soon my pets, soon you shall be mine.
"Oh right!" I press the intercom again.
"Reeves, add another bed to the Room. Twin Size maybe."
"Yes sir."
Taylor POV
"Dammit Taylor where the hell are you leading us"
Oh god so dizzy. Don't throw up. Don't throw up.
"I don't know my power keep pinging off random things!"
Omake:
Splits
Again.
Once more I split reality, a faint headache growing behind by eyes as I did so.
"Attack from the northeast section"
"Roger that. Move out!"
Again
The Headache builds, but I simply must know.
"Attack from the rooftops"
"Roger that. Move out!"
Dammit again!
Searing pain lances into my head, this is the last one for today.
"Attack fro-"
"Target lost sir, Orders?"
Fuck!
"Fall back to base." Calming myself, I end the call and press the intercom.
"Reeves, status on primary target"
"Estimated time until Subject ready for capture is 96 hours sir."
"Good, that is all."
Soon my pets, soon you shall be mine.
"Oh right!" I press the intercom again.
"Reeves, add another bed to the Room. Twin Size maybe."
"Yes sir."
Taylor POV
"Dammit Taylor where the hell are you leading us"
Oh god so dizzy. Don't throw up. Don't throw up.
"I don't know my power keep pinging off random things!"
chibipoe
May I tell you of the glory that is Catradora?
- Location
- Astoria, Oregon
He didn't know, based on demonstrations that Armsy was privy to, that it was that powerful. They didn't get a clear statement on who was responsible for the mess in her first outing and figured GG being GG that she was likely responsible for the property damage. Though, if memory serves, Taylor moved the dumpster back with tk before leaving. They had not officially connected Sirin to Taylor at that point. And even then, the specific bits saying 'this cape is this person' aren't in a file he could conceivably access, even with TT's aid.
TT of course, can deduce it pretty easily with enough of a starting point, so it matters little, ultimately. He did go in expecting a minor tk ability based on their recruitment attempt notes, but nothing he had seen in the way of official PRT documentation as of his attempt said 'Sirin is Taylor'.
Armsmaster's report mentioned the dumpster still being moved, though it was possibly attributed to Glory Girl at that time.
Selonianth
Writer of Words
Ah. So he prolly figured her tk was fairly minor considering how potent her precog is.
chibipoe
May I tell you of the glory that is Catradora?
- Location
- Astoria, Oregon
Added to index.
More or less. If memory serves me, people with ridiculously potent abilities in multiple fields are pretty rare as far as worm canon goes, hence Cauldron's hunt for the 'perfect weapon'
Dreaming - 2.9
chibipoe
May I tell you of the glory that is Catradora?
- Location
- Astoria, Oregon
2.9
I was home and changed long before my dad, out of my costume and into a fresh pair of clothes with plenty of time to start dinner. When he arrived, I was busy finishing making myself a sandwich and heating some fries in the oven. He glanced my way as he walked past the entrance to the kitchen, tension clear on his face, but ultimately said nothing, an unhappy slump to his shoulders as he walked past and ventured upstairs. I turned my attention back to the oven, pushing my walls back up as high as I could. I didn't want to deal with him being angsty more than I needed to.
"Have a good day at work?" I asked neutrally when he came back down, putting the finishing touches on a second sandwich that I sat on the table in front of his usual place. "Fries should be done soon."
"Thank you," he said quietly and I turned back to finish toasting my own sandwich. The timer dinged and I pulled the baking sheet from the oven, shoveling some fries onto my plate, then my dad's, before setting it aside to wash later. But, with dinner finished, I didn't join him at the table.
"I've got some stuff to do, so I'm going to my room," I said, taking my plate and heading out of the kitchen.
"Taylor," my dad's voice halted me in the hall. "We should…"
"I have stuff to do," I repeated. "I don't think anything good is going to come of us sitting at the table together right now. Unless you're willing to actually consider what I want and not making decisions for me."
"They can help, Taylor," he said. "People you can rely on. If you must go out, then they can be there with you if something happens. You have to give me more of a reason than I don't want to if you expect me to change my mind!"
"Help?" I repeated, frustration welling up. "Rely on? You want me to rely on people who went behind my back after I told them no? That went to you and-" I stopped, hiding my face behind my hand as I held myself back and breathed deep to try and cool my growing frustration.
He didn't say a thing, even as I ultimately got myself under control and continued. "You want me to trust them, after everything they did? They approached me before. Thought I was a parahuman, and came out and asked. I told them, I told them no. And they nodded and respected that. Or they pretended to. How can I trust them when they clearly don't respect me, and all they're thinking about is recruiting me for another body in the Wards?"
"That isn't what they're thinking, Taylor!" he protested. "I talked to them. They want to-"
"The Director told me as much!" I snapped, the plate wobbling as my grip faltered. "Just because you've bought into their pitch doesn't mean I don't see it for what it is! She told me straight to my face that is what they want! And surprisingly enough, she was more reasonable about it than you are!"
My dad didn't say anything and I tightened my grip on the plate to steady my hands. "I'm going upstairs. I have things to do," I repeated one last time. He didn't say a word as I left the kitchen, and was silent as I skipped up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
I was careful to close my door gently instead of slamming it like I wanted to, and my pack unzipped itself with a thought, the now crumpled forms floating out and settling on my bed even as I unwrinkled them carefully. I carefully hopped onto my bed, pulling my legs under me and getting comfortable as I began to eat while I started to compare the papers side by side, trying again to puzzle out the text in both..
The papers that the Director had given me were simplified compared to the ones my father had gotten. Next to each other, the wad of pages that the full registration papers consisted of was twice as thick as the affiliation papers I had. Mine were fairly straightforward, blunt even as I telekinetically flipped through. Outlines of general rules and concessions I would have to make, and that the Wards and their parent organizations would make to me.
My father's papers in turn were a legal maze of jargon that left my head spinning at times. There were references to licensing rights related to my likeness, even more in-depth standards of behavior that had to be adhered to, appearance requirements as well. The list of things I wouldn't be allowed to do was easily one of the longest sections. Restrictions on the use and carrying of weapons, especially in public appearances.
I kept looking, frowning as I came across a section that ceded all control over my appearance and costume to them. They could rebrand me as they saw fit if these papers were filed. 'Sirin' would be dissected by committee and my costume, if they didn't make me wear a new one, would be redesigned to fit the most suiting image they decided on. My eyes drifted toward my backpack for a moment and I snorted, the thought that they would have me wearing something like one of my rejected costume ideas causing me to almost laugh.
"Knowing my luck, they'd have me in that horrible green dress," I muttered before moving onto comparing the next sections.
On the side of my own papers, they were asking that I kept them informed of my nightly patrols or any time I generally went out in costume. I would have to carry a modified cell-phone that in an emergency could be used to contact or locate me. Then there was the bit that If requested, I would have to come to the aid of a Protectorate member or Ward, or even PRT forces. But otherwise I was free to do what I want, and in return I could ask for similar aid.
I was split over a part that went into detail about how I was even allowed to legally repossess a portion of valuable objects or cash from any Villains or Thugs I dealt with provided that they weren't obviously stolen from someone, legally claimed, or wanted as evidence. And I was compelled to turn in any weapons, drugs, or other illegals I found. But in return, I would be awarded a bounty for doing so. To be fair, my own methods so far had kept me in the green, but there was a chance I couldn't sustain myself on low-return lotto tickets forever.
Both had sections on penalties, though the full membership was more comprehensive. It started with fines and penalties against any wage I would make and ranged all the way up to outright legal action if I was conducting myself in an unsuitable manner. Unsuitable appeared to cover a wide variety of things and my eyes were glazing over as I read through all the things that I wasn't allowed to do.
The forms to be an affiliated cape were more forgiving, but there were still whole sections that went on about what was and wasn't permissible. I let the papers fall to the bed and began nibbling on a french fry, letting myself absorb all that I had just read.
On one hand, I would stay independent. I would be able to be the Cape I wanted to be. I could move and act as I saw fit, provided I stayed on friendly terms. There were no real drawbacks, just some terms I had to play by and they would give me a respectful distance. The only caveat in all of it was that on occasion, they wanted me to patrol with a Ward and if they called me, I was required to assist them.
I bit my lip, thinking of how easily they could use that against me. Just having a Ward or Protectorate member asking for my assistance regularly and having to answer to retain my freedom of action as an Affiliate would suffice. If I refused, there was a section mentioning that or negligence could result in legal action against me or the nullification of the affiliate agreement. Somehow, I didn't expect that it was going to be that simple if it came to that.
On the other, the full membership was riddled with restrictions. If anything, becoming a full Ward meant I was, judging from these papers, little more than a show piece, trotted out on occasion to look like I was doing something more than actually doing anything. But at the same time, it confused me. I knew for a fact that the Wards in Brockton were active, but all I could see in the papers was nothing like what I knew. If anything, there was something off about the Brockton Bay Wards when compared to what I was reading.
I used my powers and settled the papers into two neat stacks, then slid them into a folder and tucked that away. I would need to find more information out about what was different, but after reading those, I didn't think I was going to find out everything I wanted too easily. I dimmed the lights and changed clothes quickly, putting my hair up before settling under the covers. A thought floated to the forefront of my mind as my head hit the pillow and I began mulling over the information I had gleaned from the papers.
It was a long time before I fell asleep.
"I really, really hate tinkers," Hanabi said with a grimace as she threw herself out of the way of backhand that would have smeared her across the nearest wall, condensing another set of golf ball-sized spheres of explosive dust in her hand while eyeing the obstacle in front of her. How the hell they were stuck dealing with this guy and his ridiculous suit of armor escaped her. They had been involved in another skirmish with Boneyard, who seemed a bit miffed about the other night, when Trainwreck barreled in through a solid brick wall, creating a mess that the skeleton creator used to escape again and leaving them facing the tinker and his ridiculous powered armor. They didn't even know why he was attacking them. Or why he looked like he was wearing three-quarters of a steam locomotive.
She glanced to her left, where Rockshow fired off a brilliant beam of energy that impacted against the armor, but didn't appear to do more than superficial damage as the metal cooled leaving an otherwise unimpressive scorch mark. She in turn flung several spheres of powder into the air around him, detonating them with snaps of her finger as they exploded into rainbow balls of force and flame. They didn't do any real damage, but they made a lot of noise, which was the point. Rockshow's nod was barely noticeable and she kept up her attacks, beams of light cutting ever-more radiant lines through the air, boosted by the constant noise generated from the explosions as well as the sound of Trainwreck's mechanical fighting as they dodged around his slow but dangerously powerful punches.
Another sphere went airborne, erupting into an explosion in front of what she thought was where he saw through. Or it might have been a grill or vent of some sort. Honestly, she couldn't tell where the machine bits ended and the person began. A sound like a roar echoed from within his suit and he twisted toward her, slamming his metallic fists down as she danced back, barely avoiding the accompanying burst of superheated steam that belched from his shoulders.
"Can you give me an opening on his left arm?" she asked into the headset built into her mask, one hand tapping the trigger for it in an almost careless appearing gesture as she avoided another attempt to hit her, tarmac cratering as hands the size of garbage can lids impacted with all the force of a freight train. Another set of detonations staggered her and she narrowly dodged his attempt to retaliate.
"Care to explain why you've gone off the rails?" she said out loud, her tone mocking. There was some sort of reply that she couldn't make out as pistons shifted, steam hissed, and he drove a fist toward where she was standing. Her desperate dodge to avoid a speeding mass of metal was carefully concealed as she rolled right back up into a standing position with the practiced poise of a performer.
"What's wrong, running out of steam? You know, that's why they switched to diesel and electric after all. Problems going all the way…" Hanabi asked, as a burst of light from Rockshow tore off an armored panel on his arm. It didn't appear to hit anything vital, but it did expose part of the internals.
"Light him up," Hanabi called out, closing her eyes as Rockshow dropped a burst of light right in front of him. Even through her mask and her eyelids, she could tell how bright it was and a pained scream echoed from within the suit.
"Over here, museum-piece," she called, pinging him with several more explosions. "Come on, who the hell uses steam engines anymore?" Nothing major, little more than irritants, but those, combined with the sound of her voice drew him to swing a fist down where he thought she was.
She sidestepped the blow, and watched as it sank down almost to the elbow into a hole she had filled with her explosive powder. Immediately, tendrils of it started to climb up his arm, flowing rapidly into the hole her partner had made with a scraping, rustling sound as grains of explosive powder crawled across the metal.
"I think," she said lazily as the material wound around parts within the arm, "that it's time we derail this train." She snapped her fingers as he wrenched his arm upward, gears and pistons squealing loudly as the powder caught and started to grind in the inner workings. There was a thunderous boom and the arm exploded just above the hole, spraying shrapnel and scraps of metal flying as the arm come apart in pieces, the hand crashing back down to the ground as cables and gears desperately flailed and grinded below the shoulder. Trainwreck reeled back, staggering as a tinny groan filled the air.
A moment later, he began moving away, picking up speed quickly. Hanabi fired off several more explosions after him, Rockshow's laser beams providing a counterpoint, but he didn't slow down and was soon out of sight from the pair. There was a moment of silence as the dust settled and the smell of ozone wafted through the air before Hanabi ran a hand through her hair and sighed with frustration.
"Dammit!" A glove hit the floor with a heavy smack. "Twice, fucking twice in a row Bone's gotten away from us and left us empty-handed. Bastard isn't even a B-lister and we can't bring him in, but we can make goddamn Trainwreck run with his tail-pipe between his legs!"
"Is not the latter better than the former?" Rockshow asked, moving to stand by her partner and daintily dusting concrete dust from the sleeves of her costume. "We stand to gain more prestige from having driven off Trainwreck, even if it is not financial."
Hanabi scowled fiercely as she kicked a rock across the open space. "Would have gained, you mean. Only people who saw were Boneyard and Trainwreck. And no way the scrap-reject is going to go home and say he got beat by a pair of Independents. He'd say he ran into half of New Wave or some bullshit."
"Perhaps," Rockshow replied, stepping around several small craters to where the remains of his mechanical lower arm lay. "But he will still know, as will we. And, after all, we do have proof, you realize."
Hanabi was silent for a moment, realization taking root as she actually looked and saw what they had. She crossed her arms and tilted her head thoughtfully "Maybe," she said. "We could see about turning that in...might be worth something," Hanabi mused, her frustration partly fading. "We should check into that. If nothing else, we might be able to sell it for scrap, at least. Come on, help me with the bits." She knelt and began picking up what she could and tucking it into the pack she had slung against her side. Rockshow did likewise after a moment and they had the smaller pieces gathered up.
The remaining piece was too big for either to pick up alone, but between the two of them, they were able to get the wrecked arm out to a nearby parking lot. It clanged loudly as both girls unceremoniously dropped it on the pavement with a huff of exertion. Rockshow of course was the picture-perfect example of poise and dignity even after that, while Hanabi turned the trophy into an impromptu seat while she caught her breath.
"'Bloody hell, I figured the suit had to weigh a ton but just the arm? How the hell does he even move in that thing?" she said once she could speak.
"I would presume that the engines and pistons do the moving for him and he just operates controls that cause them to move," Rockshow said serenely. "If he were capable of moving that much weight under his own power, I wager our confrontation with him would have gone much differently."
Hanabi grunted and kicked the metal of the arm with the back of her heel before leaning back slightly. "And of course, you're entirely reasonable about it. Geez."
"Whether we can gain compensation from the piece of his armor that we severed or not, I would say there was something more useful gained tonight," Rockshow observed.
Hanabi pointedly raised an eyebrow. "You're not getting Zen with me again, are you? Don't you dare go fortune cookie on me."
Rockshow nodded, smiling behind her mask. "I would dare say I am, and that I will," she said smugly. "You need a constant dose of wisdom now and then, or else you get out of hand."
The explosive cape grumbled petulantly as she dropped her chin into the cup of her hand. "I don't get out of hand…"
Her serene counterpart tilted her head inquisitively. "Oh? You don't? What about-" She barely dodged the cog hurled at her as Hanabi gave her a sharp look.
"Those don't count! I call foul on those times! They were out of my control." Hanabi protested.
Rockshow ignored the thrown cog, and walked over, taking a seat by her sulking comrade. "Regardless, we have effectively proven that together, we are an able match for a much more highly regarded cape than Boneyard. While we did not defeat him. we have proven that we are able to match him."
"Well, yeah, as long as we're together, we can do anything, right? Power of friendship and all that," Hanabi asked before sighing in her friend's direction and smiling weakly. "You're right. This was a big deal. I just wish someone had been here to see it."
Her friend nodded. "We could have had someone along with us tonight, you know," Rockshow pointed out lightly. "Which I think is the real reason you're testy."
Hanabi shook her head, looking off into the distance. "She's got her own problems right now, without us butting in. Just wish we could actually help with it."
"I am certain that we will get the opportunity, if we are patient," Rockshow said calmly. "In the meantime, losing your temper will only result in being of no help to anyone, and being far less effective in the long run. If we keep cool heads, we'll have our to turn to help."
"You're right," she muttered. "Like usual. Doesn't mean I have to like it, though."
"Nor do I," her partner said, glancing down the street as a pair of headlights turned the corner. "Tomorrow, we can talk to her, let her know that we are here if she needs us. Beyond that, we simply wait until she asks for us."
"Yeah, yeah," Hanabi muttered. "I think that's our ride. Surprised we haven't had Protectorate nosing in around us already though."
"We ran over that group of Merchants before Boneyard," she pointed out. "Perhaps they are occupied with that?"
"Maybe," Hanabi shrugged. "Anyway, let's get this thing picked up so we can toss it in and go."
However, as both girls stood, Rockshow suddenly looked pensive and her stance changed from relaxed to on-guard. "That… is not our ride," Rockshow said slowly. "The lights are wrong."
"Huh?" Hanabi looked up, frowning as she realized her partner was right. One of the headlights was flickering unreliably, almost swaying in the dark. Something she knew was impossible given her dad was meticulous about keeping everything in perfect working order. It drew closer and the sound of the engine, something she knew almost by heart, made it clear that this was not the nondescript van that Hanabi's parents used to pick them up.
Street lights washed against grimy, rusty metal as the motor groaned pitifully and something that looked like it belonged in a post apocalyptic movie became visible. Wearing goggles and a tube top, a dirty blonde-haired woman shouted something as she gunned the engine, the groaning turning into a metallic squeal as the vehicle leapt forward and barreled past. A second later, the high-pitched ping as something flew at them and hit the ground resulted in Rockshow tackling Hanabi backwards, an explosion of searing blue-tinged fire sending both tumbling across the parking lot as a shower of what was formerly pavement rained down on them with twin cries of pain.
Both their heads were left ringing from the blast. But it was Hanabi that noticed that the ringing was also physical and real as the falling tarmac was joined by the near musical pings and dings of falling metal. Trapped underneath the still-reeling form of Rockshow, she was only able to turn her head to see that the blast had reduced where they were before to a small crater, and their captured prize to scrap metal.
"Shit, are you okay?" she turned her head quickly as her senses returned, squirming to get a better look at her friend, who had her back to the explosion. Part of her jacket was burnt away and she could see skin, bleeding and raw, where the hole made it visible. Rockshow grunted in pain, punctuated with an indrawn breath as she tried to push herself up and failed, but did not immediately speak.
"Ah… this hurts quite a bit," she finally said. "My arm… ah... doesn't want to move."
Hanabi muttered several more profanities and carefully drew her friend's jacket down off her shoulder. An audible sound of pain froze her and she winced at what she could see. "I think you dislocated your shoulder. I can't see a break, but it's pretty swollen."
"Pull my coat back up," Rockshow said, muffling another pained grunt as Hanabi complied. "We… should get moving…"
"You're not moving anywhere right now," Hanabi said firmly, digging out her phone and checking that it was intact before dialing a number. "Where the hell are you guys? We need you here like five minutes ago!"
She paused a moment. "No, I'm damned well not watching my language! Rock's hurt because a crazy bitch threw a grenade at us! Get here now!" She hung up and stuffed the phone back into her pocket, grimacing and digging around for the first aid stuff they kept on hand.
"This is probably going to sting," she told her partner. "Probably will need to go over it again in case there's anything embedded, but at least this will help for the moment." She popped the lid off the spray can and began spraying. Rockshow drew in her breath with a pained hiss, wincing slightly when Hanabi pressed gauze against the wound gently and taped it there.
"Hopefully those two will show up soon instead of dicking around," Hanabi muttered, sitting down beside her friend. "Lean on me if you need to."
"They were probably delayed somehow," Rockshow said after a moment of settling herself. "You should be more respectful."
"Yeah, maybe when you're not hurting and needing more help than I can give, I'll think about it," she snorted. "Do I need to keep you awake?"
"I do not think I have a concussion," her partner admitted. "But that is probably a good idea."
"Alright. And for once in your life, could you not be so freaking composed? For fucks sake, you just got blown up. Swear or something. Like…" Hanabi looked around for a moment, before spotting the crater again. "Like swear about how we just lost our turn-in! The bitch blew it up!"
"Better it than us," Rockshow said, her tone carrying a note of humor. "Forgive me, I lack the energy to swear just now. Perhaps after school tomorrow."
"Tomorrow, heh," Hanabi murmured with a weak chuckle. "I don't think you're going to be up for school tomorrow. Not with your shoulder like that."
"Likely not," Rockshow admitted through gritted teeth. "I do not look forward to having this set."
"Make sure you have something to bite down on," Hanabi replied, glancing down the street as a new set of headlights appeared. Both were steady and the sound of the vehicle was familiar. "Come on, ride's here."
"I will need assistance getting up, I believe," she answered. Hanabi nodded and helped her partner to her feet, then slipped her good arm across her shoulders.
"This was not how I expected our night to end," Hanabi said as they limped toward the van. Her dad was out before it came to a halt and he easily picked up her friend. "Easy. Her shoulder's dislocated."
"We'll get it fixed once we're moving," he said. "Anything else?"
"Some scrapes on her back," Hanabi reported. "Didn't look too bad, but I didn't have a lot of light to work with. I'm good, thanks to her."
He nodded. "In the van and let's get out of here." Hanabi nodded and waited until he had Rockshow situated before clambering into the seat behind her. Her dad pulled the door closed and they started moving, driving back off into the night.
"Report," Armsmaster said gruffly to Assault and Battery as he slid off his bike, smoothly unholstering his halberd in the same motion. Both heroes looked less than perfect, their costumes singed and battered. Assault in particular was picking at a tear in the fabric that was slowly exposing the armored layers beneath. The pair both looked tired and frazzled, but otherwise intact.
"Not much to say, boss," Battery murmured as she tried in vain to brush off a layer of soot that had settled on her shoulders. "Squealer did a smash and grab and tried to run off with Mush," The female half of the married pair nodded towards the PRT containment van parked farther down the road. And more so the burnt-out wrecks of a pair of patrol cars "She buzzed us a few times with a couple of explosives and nailed some cars, but both were empty so nobody was hurt. An agent managed to tag her buggy with some foam, but all it did was chase her off. We elected to stay with the van and Mush in case she was pulling a diversion, and Velocity called in saying was going to try and intercept her, but I haven't heard from him yet."
Armsmaster nodded, surveying the scene even as he watched an agent secure the backdoors to the van with his security key. "We got a call in just a moment ago that she slipped away. For now, he's out reinforcing Dauntless. There was a report of a disturbance nearby with Trainwreck, and they're investigating."
Assault and Battery nodded, settling into more professional attitudes. "Anything else boss?" was the response as Assault finally left the now highly noticeable tear in his suit alone. "Should we be getting back on patrol or…?"
Armsmaster shook his head, looking back to the pair as the PRT van drove off. "No. Both of you are going to be with me. We've got other reports of disturbances with the Merchants and the police are asking for aid handling them. Besides the reports we've already gotten in, we've received new ones of a yet unknown parahuman attack on a Merchant storehouse, and an another unresolved parahuman event elsewhere in the city."
Battery frowned even as Assault whistled. "Whoa. Looks like someone's done kicked the hornet's nest."
"Indeed," he growled. "And the Director wants us applying smoke to these hornets."
"Did he just make a joke again?" Assault asked Battery. "I didn't mishear, right?" He danced out of the way from an elbow that she had aimed for his stomach.
"You did not," the Protectorate leader said. "I would hardly call it a joke, however. While the situation is defusing naturally, as we are getting fewer and fewer reports, it's our job to keep it that way."
"Right-o," Assault said. "Where are we hitting first, chief?"
Armsmaster was a silent for a moment, before he nodded. "Boardwalk. There was where the first disturbance occurred. We've got agents already on the scene, but I want to know what started this."
"We'll meet you there," Battery said, grabbing Assault by the wrist and starting toward their car. Armsmaster went to his motorcycle and set off after them a moment later.
Blowing off two days of school wasn't going to get me anywhere any faster at the pace I was at, so I decided it was time to head back to Winslow. Thankfully Mrs. Knott's class was first period on Wednesday, and I hammered out the assignment in short order. After that, I decided to follow through with my custom of browsing the web, and that was when I noticed the news from last night.
At first, I had only been looking to see if there was anything about me. I didn't find much about my own activities, but I did find several reports that showed me that my own two fights had been only part of a larger set of clashes between the Merchants and the authorities.
Only one article even mentioned me and it was only a reference to an unknown parahuman who had been assisting Glory Girl. PRT and Protectorate had declined to comment beyond that leaving me as a mystery cape that had showed up, helped to apprehend Mush, and then left. I shook my head and flipped over to Parahumans Online's forums section to see if there was anything about me there.
It took only a moment to create a fresh account, but even so, I wished the school computers were faster. Once it caught up, I began browsing, glancing over topics quickly before finding what I was looking for.
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♦Topic: New Capes of Brockton Bay thread XIV
In: Boards ► Cities ► Brockton Bay
Bagrat (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Posted on January 1, 2011:
New thread for New Capes of Brockton Bay. You can view the old thread here: New Capes of Brockton Bay, Thread XIII.
You know the drill. Post about new arrivals to the Brockton Bay cape scene here!
(Showing Page 8 of 8)
► Mr. Fabuu
Replied on March 2, 2011:
Looks like Brockton Bay's got another new cape. Looking at this article here, some unknown cape assisted Glory Girl. Has New Wave gotten some new blood? Anyone know anything about this new cape?
► Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied on March 2, 2011:
Heard nothing yet. PRT didn't give much of a report. @Bagrat. Know anything yet?
► Bagrat (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on March 2, 2011:
Last night, in a dust-up with Mush that lead to his arrest, Glory Girl was seen in the company of a new cape. Word I've got is her first known night was last Friday, and she was also in Glory Girl's company at the time.
Powers... I've got nothing I can share. Name I'm hearing tossed about is Sirin, though. With an i, not an e. Maybe something sound-based?
End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 6, 7, 8
I skimmed past the remaining posts, rolling my eyes at the largely useless content that followed Bagrat's post. After a few minutes more of reading if my costume made me look hot, I closed the page with a sigh, glancing to my right out of habit to where Catherine usually sat. I jerked back reflexively as I came face to face with the other girl who had appeared beside me without notice while being remarkably quiet
"Finally back with us?" Catherine asked, a mixture of amusement and worry radiating off of her. Mostly worry and I frowned while composing myself and trying to figure out what was wrong.
"Sorry, was looking up stuff," I said, focusing my attention on her. "You alright? You look a bit out of it."
She made a face. "Mina's out today. I'm just worried about her."
"Sick?" I asked, then glanced around discreetly and lowered my voice. "Or did something happen?"
Catherine's face twisted around in worry and concern, and strangely enough anger. "Bad run," was her simple answer. I reached over and gave her shoulder a squeeze, projecting reassuring thoughts as I did so. She smiled wanly at me in response.
"Want to talk about it later, during lunch, maybe?" I asked. "How bad, though?"
"Bad enough," Catherine said. "She's out of commission at least for the rest of the week, and won't be in any shape to for school till at least tomorrow. And yeah, we can talk about it more later."
"Okay," I said, then glanced at her screen. "Need help with that?"
Catherine looked at the screen and her barely touched assignment, then to me. "If you're willing, sure."
The rest of the period passed quickly, as I walked her through the basics of a multi-page website. Nothing complex, but setting it up right had it's own nuances that she needed help with. We separated afterwards as we went to our individual classes, with a resolution to meet up again at lunch.
Professor Singer, or Armsmaster, whatever, was apparently gone, replaced by someone else that I paid little attention to, the bulk of my awareness on how the school felt different somehow. I couldn't focus on anything but trying to pin down why. It itched at the back of my mind. Something important that I was familiar with, but had never bothered to identify till now.
I think, at it's core, it was the feeling of something missing. I wandered down the hall after that class, nodding absently when someone said hello or acknowledged me, running possibilities through my head to figure out what it was. I went from class to class as lunch grew closer, yet it only seemed as if I was getting farther from a realization as I smiled and returned a friendly greeting from a passing student automatically as I continued on auto-pilot.
What is it? There's something...not-wrong here. Something is different, more then it has been. What am I missing? It feels like it should be obvious to me, but I just can't…
Lunch finally rolled around, and I joined the flow of students towards the cafeteria, meeting Catherine just before I went in.
"Eat in or find someplace private?" I asked, picking a few things from the line, eyeing the day's choices with distaste. Winslow didn't have the best cafeteria food ever, but today especially looked unappealing.
"I'm not much for company today," Catherine said quietly. "I figure we should we should get somewhere quiet. Any place in mind?"
"It's a nice day out. Roof?" I asked, paying for my food.
"Isn't that locked?" Catherine wondered, taking care of her own food.
"Like that would stop me," I answered rolling my eyes as we crossed the cafeteria, nodding absently to someone who waved at me. Catherine in turn looked at me oddly, quirking an eyebrow at my action. "What? Is there something on my face?"
"No," Catherine said, half-smiling. "You seem to be getting a lot of attention, though."
"Attention?" I blinked in confusion as I looked back over the cafeteria, to the student who had waved at me. And I realized, I didn't even know who they were. I thought back to earlier as well, to the students I had talked to during the day. And I realized again, I had no idea who any of them were. "What…"
"You hadn't noticed?" Catherine asked as we headed up the stairwell toward the roof. A manipulation of the lock and we were outside. We both sat down, leaning back against the air vents.
"No," I admitted. "I hadn't really. When did this…?"
Catherine shrugged. "It's been happening for a bit. Since Sophia went away. Emma too, I guess, but she wasn't doing much recently, was she?"
Emma. I shook my head, pushing away thoughts of how she had been the last time I saw her. "I don't want to talk about Emma, if that's alright." I probably wasn't going to see her again, I thought, and that was one of the lower points of the past few days. I wasn't sure how I was feeling. On one hand, it was Emma. But on the other, I couldn't help but remember how she had looked when myself and her father found her at the hospital. Or what she had said. I'd forced it out of my mind with all that had happened, but now…
I shook my head. "Yeah, no Emma talk. Minako. What happened?"
Catherine viciously stabbed something that I thought was supposed to be salisbury steak with her fork. "First, we had another run in with Boneyard. We almost had him, too. Then, of all people, fucking Trainwreck showed up and Boneyard got away in the confusion. We ended up in a fight with him that I guess was a draw. After that… Squealer. Bitch lobbed a grenade at us in a drive-by, and Mina covered me, taking the worst of it."
"Shit," I said, my fork dropping onto my tray. "You said she's going to be alright, though, right?"
"I think so," Catherine muttered. "But I'm still worried. She got banged up pretty good."
"How bad, really?" I asked, almost dreading the answer.
"Arm dislocated, but that was fixed last night," Catherine rattled off. "Got scorched pretty bad on her back and some debris hit her. She won't be going out til that heals. You wouldn't believe the dodge we had to go through to stop her parents from asking weird questions."
"Want me to come over for cheering up and support after school?" I questioned, glancing sidelong at her.
"Minako would probably appreciate it, but are you sure you can?" Catherine asked with a worried expression. "You've got your own set of issues to deal with still, after all."
I didn't say anything for a moment, weighing her question with both my own thoughts and a touch of foresight. Coming to school today meant I hadn't had opportunity to do further research into how to convince my dad and I had spent the free time in Mrs. Knott's class looking up details about myself and last night.
"I've got a few things to take care of, but I can stop by for a little bit, at least," I finally said, nodding emphatically. "Sound good?"
"That sounds good." Catherine smiled slightly, then frowned and poked at the things on her tray once more. "I think that moved. Is salisbury steak supposed to be that color?"
"I'm fairly sure it died after the first time you stabbed it, but my only experience with salisbury steak is in those microwave meals," I said. "I'm not even sure if salisbury steak is a real thing beyond those. I think they made a patty of something that is supposed to be meat and called it steak. Then slapped salisbury in front of it to make it sound special."
"And the things they call mashed potatoes? Ick," Catherine said with an actual smile before glancing toward the door to the roof with a half-frown. "Are we going to get in trouble by being out here?"
I stared off into space for a moment. "No. We'll be down the stairs and on the way to class well before the next security guard performs checks on the secured exits."
"Nice," she said with a relieved whistle. "You know, being able to see the future is very cool."
"Sometimes," I said with a half-smile. "Other times, not so much. But it definitely has its advantages. Being able to sneak around security is one."
"Oh, sneaking off with a boy, you mean?" Catherine asked with a teasing lilt to her voice. "Using your precog to find the perfect place that you and he can…"
"Catherine!" I interrupted, flushing. "There isn't any boy and I wouldn't do something like.. like that."
"Girl, then," Catherine shrugged with a sly grin as my face started to burn. "Legend's married to another guy, after all. Like anyone cares nowadays."
"No girls, either," I said, wanting to bury my face in my hands but I would upset the tray if I did that… wait, no...I wouldn't. My telekinesis took hold of the lunch tray while I hid my undoubtedly crimson face with my hands. "Geez, what is it with thinking I'm into girls. Vicky was teasing me with that too."
"Oh, Vicky, is it?" Catherine said, smirking as I glanced through splayed fingers. "Holding someone out on us, are you?"
"No! Vicky's well… she's Vicky…" I squawked, then took a deep breath. "As in Victoria Dallon. Glory Girl."
"Glory Girl's your secret girlfriend?" Catherine asked innocently. "Man, is Mina going to be upset she wasn't here to find that out!"
"I give up," I said, my face still burning. I caught my tray with my hands. "Lunch's almost over anyway."
"Alright, alright," Catherine said. "Don't be so uptight, Tay. You need to take things little less serious, and they'll be a lot more fun."
"Maybe," I shrugged, my mood taking a sudden downswing. "A bit bogged down with things that require being serious lately, I suppose."
Catherine nudged me with her shoulder carefully. "It'll work out, Taylor. I may not be able to see the future, but I believe it will. Until you actually break the law or something, the PRT can't force you to do anything. You just have your dad to contend with, and he'll come around."
"I wish that were true," I grimaced sourly. "I looked over the papers pretty thoroughly. If my dad signs them, then yeah, they basically have legal authority to do as they please. My cape identity, what I wear, how I act, all under their control and if I don't comply, then they can sanction me, essentially."
I sighed. "I'm being ungenerous, I know. It isn't quite as bad as that, but I can't help but worry about what they can do over what they probably will."
"I wouldn't know myself," Catherine said, looking off the rooftop over the city. "I don't want to say that I was just lucky or anything. I never intended to join the Wards, and my dad never really tried to force me. When I told him, he said that if I wasn't going to play as part of a team, then I was going to at least play by his rules. Then Mina and me got back together, and we started to go out together. And my dad was happy with that."
"Wish it was that easy with my dad," I said morosely. "I'm afraid of what I might end up doing if I can't convince him. Even if I talk him down to just the affiliated membership, I'm worried there are ways they can exploit it and effectively make me a Ward without any of the supposed benefits for me."
Catherine gave me a weak smile and a slap on the shoulder. "Like I said, don't worry. Your dad will come around, and then you can both sort it out. Or just tell them no altogether."
I glanced over at her. "Let's hope so. C'mon, we should head down and dump these in the cafeteria now if we want to get to class in time." I manipulated the lock again and we started back down into the school.
Danny stared dazedly at the computer screen. It was late enough in the day that no one was going to chastise him for using his work computer for non-work tasks, but all the same, he wished someone would, so that he could tear his eyes from what he was reading.
She went out again. There wasn't a lot to go on, but he had heard from some of his people about one of the Merchants getting into a fight with Glory Girl and some other cape. One had mentioned that the other was a girl and he had been suspicious then. Seeing the information on the news site, followed by an awkward visit to Parahumans Online and now he he was certain.
Taylor had gone out and put herself in danger. Again. She had kept it from him. Again. He sighed, hands gripping the edge of his desk as he considered what to do. He hadn't said she couldn't go, but he had hoped it had been implied. Now, he wish he had outright said it. The thing is, he wasn't sure if it would have made a difference.
Grimacing, he shutdown his computer and began putting away his paperwork for the day. He didn't know what to do. She was opposed to being a Ward and other than her rant about them hounding her, hadn't given him any real reasons as to why. There had been her argument that she couldn't trust them, but no reason given. There had been her comment about the Director and how she only wanted more Wards as bodies on the street, but she hadn't expanded on that, instead storming off to her room.
He sighed. There was just so little that he understood about her anymore and it felt like the divide widened further every day. It was like he looked away for a second and now his daughter was someone else entirely, aggressive and ever-ready to lash out rather than his quiet, withdrawn little girl. Someone defiant and angry with every spoken word. Someone he didn't know.
She was still his daughter though, even if she was so different. And he wanted her to be safe. He had hoped she would heed him, give them both space and time, that they might find some common ground. But she had gone out and put herself in danger again. There wasn't, he feared, anyway to stop her from doing that just by himself. Taylor had already made that point that he couldn't stop her.
But, if he was willing, then he could at least make sure she was safe. Safer. She was all he had left of Annette. He couldn't, wouldn't lose that if he could help it. Couldn't let down Annette. Taylor might not like- no, wouldn't like it, but she would be looked after where he couldn't any longer. He at least had that assurance from them. Taylor's reactions made him wonder about those assurances, but… the Wards program had existed for nearly twenty years. They had to have dealt with situations like this before. They would know what to do, he was sure. Then they could help him understand what was happening. Perhaps after the dust settled, he could hope that they would help build that bridge between them again. Be the middleman or translator in letting him get a grasp on how to understand his daughter. With luck, she might be herself again and not the angry person he saw now.
He finished filing the last of the papers and began closing up the office. Like most days, he had worked late and was the last person here. He shut off lights and left, locking up behind him before crossing the parking lot to his truck. Getting in, he looked over to the passenger seat and the folder of paperwork that sat there. It was new, and still had that smell of coming fresh off the printer. He had picked it up this morning since he wasn't sure what Taylor had done with the other papers.
Crisp, unwrinkled, and tempting. The adage that it was better to ask forgiveness than permission came to mind as he looked at them. Taylor was obviously determined to keep going out regardless of what he said. Danny drummed his hands on the steering wheel for a long moment before starting the ignition. The question that haunted him though, was if he asked, would Taylor ever give it?
If she doesn't… was he okay with that? There would be someone to look after her, where he clearly couldn't any longer. She would have support, people with powers that could talk to her, help her, keep her safe. That was what mattered, wasn't it? If she didn't forgive him, could he be okay with that if the result meant she wasn't putting herself in danger alone?
He took a deep breath and put the truck in gear as he made his decision, pulling out of the mostly empty parking lot.
Wrapping up everything had taken longer than he thought, and as he pulled into the driveway he could see the kitchen lights shining through the window. Taylor was likely home and fixing dinner by now if he was not mistaken. He sat there for a long moment in the truck, looking at the folder sitting in the passenger seat and wrestling with himself. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his coat and the folder and got out. The walk to the side door took strangely longer, a moment stretching into forever with all the tension of a coiled spring. As he opened the door and stepped into the kitchen a burning, acidic smell hit him, making him blanche and frown as he covered his face with an arm of his coat.
"Ah, hell," he rushed to the oven, pulling on a pair of mitts and grabbing the burnt garlic bread from within. The squeal of the smoke alarm made him wince, dropping the burnt bread and pan into the sink under a stream of water as he instead wrestled with the broomhandle to reach up and silence it. With the din silenced and dinner now soaking in the sink, Danny finally had time to look around, wondering where Taylor was when his eyes fell on a steaming pile of lasagna and glass on the floor that in his haste he had missed.
Had she had dropped the pan and it broke? That was odd, for her, Taylor was usually very careful when she cooked. He sat the folder down on the counter next to a half-crumpled piece of notebook paper and looked around for a moment before heading into the hallway, unease tracing down his spine.
"Taylor?" he called out, looking around, worry building when there was no response. There weren't any signs of violence beyond the mess in the kitchen, but something still felt wrong.
"Taylor?" he called out again as he started up the stairs. No response again and he went to her door, pushing it open when he saw it wasn't closed.
The light was on, but the room was empty. Opposite him, the window was wide open, curtains fluttering in a faint breeze. He stared at that for a moment before his gaze panned around the room, noting the wardrobe that was still open, drawers haphazardly arranged, clothes scattered everywhere. Her school books were scattered across the bed, clearly thrown out in haste.
Danny stood there for a moment, staring at the scene and trying to process. His mouth went dry and electric chills of dread raced up and down his spine.
"Taylor?" He asked numbly.
A lonely whistle of wind was the only answer.
--
I was home and changed long before my dad, out of my costume and into a fresh pair of clothes with plenty of time to start dinner. When he arrived, I was busy finishing making myself a sandwich and heating some fries in the oven. He glanced my way as he walked past the entrance to the kitchen, tension clear on his face, but ultimately said nothing, an unhappy slump to his shoulders as he walked past and ventured upstairs. I turned my attention back to the oven, pushing my walls back up as high as I could. I didn't want to deal with him being angsty more than I needed to.
"Have a good day at work?" I asked neutrally when he came back down, putting the finishing touches on a second sandwich that I sat on the table in front of his usual place. "Fries should be done soon."
"Thank you," he said quietly and I turned back to finish toasting my own sandwich. The timer dinged and I pulled the baking sheet from the oven, shoveling some fries onto my plate, then my dad's, before setting it aside to wash later. But, with dinner finished, I didn't join him at the table.
"I've got some stuff to do, so I'm going to my room," I said, taking my plate and heading out of the kitchen.
"Taylor," my dad's voice halted me in the hall. "We should…"
"I have stuff to do," I repeated. "I don't think anything good is going to come of us sitting at the table together right now. Unless you're willing to actually consider what I want and not making decisions for me."
"They can help, Taylor," he said. "People you can rely on. If you must go out, then they can be there with you if something happens. You have to give me more of a reason than I don't want to if you expect me to change my mind!"
"Help?" I repeated, frustration welling up. "Rely on? You want me to rely on people who went behind my back after I told them no? That went to you and-" I stopped, hiding my face behind my hand as I held myself back and breathed deep to try and cool my growing frustration.
He didn't say a thing, even as I ultimately got myself under control and continued. "You want me to trust them, after everything they did? They approached me before. Thought I was a parahuman, and came out and asked. I told them, I told them no. And they nodded and respected that. Or they pretended to. How can I trust them when they clearly don't respect me, and all they're thinking about is recruiting me for another body in the Wards?"
"That isn't what they're thinking, Taylor!" he protested. "I talked to them. They want to-"
"The Director told me as much!" I snapped, the plate wobbling as my grip faltered. "Just because you've bought into their pitch doesn't mean I don't see it for what it is! She told me straight to my face that is what they want! And surprisingly enough, she was more reasonable about it than you are!"
My dad didn't say anything and I tightened my grip on the plate to steady my hands. "I'm going upstairs. I have things to do," I repeated one last time. He didn't say a word as I left the kitchen, and was silent as I skipped up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
I was careful to close my door gently instead of slamming it like I wanted to, and my pack unzipped itself with a thought, the now crumpled forms floating out and settling on my bed even as I unwrinkled them carefully. I carefully hopped onto my bed, pulling my legs under me and getting comfortable as I began to eat while I started to compare the papers side by side, trying again to puzzle out the text in both..
The papers that the Director had given me were simplified compared to the ones my father had gotten. Next to each other, the wad of pages that the full registration papers consisted of was twice as thick as the affiliation papers I had. Mine were fairly straightforward, blunt even as I telekinetically flipped through. Outlines of general rules and concessions I would have to make, and that the Wards and their parent organizations would make to me.
My father's papers in turn were a legal maze of jargon that left my head spinning at times. There were references to licensing rights related to my likeness, even more in-depth standards of behavior that had to be adhered to, appearance requirements as well. The list of things I wouldn't be allowed to do was easily one of the longest sections. Restrictions on the use and carrying of weapons, especially in public appearances.
I kept looking, frowning as I came across a section that ceded all control over my appearance and costume to them. They could rebrand me as they saw fit if these papers were filed. 'Sirin' would be dissected by committee and my costume, if they didn't make me wear a new one, would be redesigned to fit the most suiting image they decided on. My eyes drifted toward my backpack for a moment and I snorted, the thought that they would have me wearing something like one of my rejected costume ideas causing me to almost laugh.
"Knowing my luck, they'd have me in that horrible green dress," I muttered before moving onto comparing the next sections.
On the side of my own papers, they were asking that I kept them informed of my nightly patrols or any time I generally went out in costume. I would have to carry a modified cell-phone that in an emergency could be used to contact or locate me. Then there was the bit that If requested, I would have to come to the aid of a Protectorate member or Ward, or even PRT forces. But otherwise I was free to do what I want, and in return I could ask for similar aid.
I was split over a part that went into detail about how I was even allowed to legally repossess a portion of valuable objects or cash from any Villains or Thugs I dealt with provided that they weren't obviously stolen from someone, legally claimed, or wanted as evidence. And I was compelled to turn in any weapons, drugs, or other illegals I found. But in return, I would be awarded a bounty for doing so. To be fair, my own methods so far had kept me in the green, but there was a chance I couldn't sustain myself on low-return lotto tickets forever.
Both had sections on penalties, though the full membership was more comprehensive. It started with fines and penalties against any wage I would make and ranged all the way up to outright legal action if I was conducting myself in an unsuitable manner. Unsuitable appeared to cover a wide variety of things and my eyes were glazing over as I read through all the things that I wasn't allowed to do.
The forms to be an affiliated cape were more forgiving, but there were still whole sections that went on about what was and wasn't permissible. I let the papers fall to the bed and began nibbling on a french fry, letting myself absorb all that I had just read.
On one hand, I would stay independent. I would be able to be the Cape I wanted to be. I could move and act as I saw fit, provided I stayed on friendly terms. There were no real drawbacks, just some terms I had to play by and they would give me a respectful distance. The only caveat in all of it was that on occasion, they wanted me to patrol with a Ward and if they called me, I was required to assist them.
I bit my lip, thinking of how easily they could use that against me. Just having a Ward or Protectorate member asking for my assistance regularly and having to answer to retain my freedom of action as an Affiliate would suffice. If I refused, there was a section mentioning that or negligence could result in legal action against me or the nullification of the affiliate agreement. Somehow, I didn't expect that it was going to be that simple if it came to that.
On the other, the full membership was riddled with restrictions. If anything, becoming a full Ward meant I was, judging from these papers, little more than a show piece, trotted out on occasion to look like I was doing something more than actually doing anything. But at the same time, it confused me. I knew for a fact that the Wards in Brockton were active, but all I could see in the papers was nothing like what I knew. If anything, there was something off about the Brockton Bay Wards when compared to what I was reading.
I used my powers and settled the papers into two neat stacks, then slid them into a folder and tucked that away. I would need to find more information out about what was different, but after reading those, I didn't think I was going to find out everything I wanted too easily. I dimmed the lights and changed clothes quickly, putting my hair up before settling under the covers. A thought floated to the forefront of my mind as my head hit the pillow and I began mulling over the information I had gleaned from the papers.
It was a long time before I fell asleep.
~~~~~~~~
"I really, really hate tinkers," Hanabi said with a grimace as she threw herself out of the way of backhand that would have smeared her across the nearest wall, condensing another set of golf ball-sized spheres of explosive dust in her hand while eyeing the obstacle in front of her. How the hell they were stuck dealing with this guy and his ridiculous suit of armor escaped her. They had been involved in another skirmish with Boneyard, who seemed a bit miffed about the other night, when Trainwreck barreled in through a solid brick wall, creating a mess that the skeleton creator used to escape again and leaving them facing the tinker and his ridiculous powered armor. They didn't even know why he was attacking them. Or why he looked like he was wearing three-quarters of a steam locomotive.
She glanced to her left, where Rockshow fired off a brilliant beam of energy that impacted against the armor, but didn't appear to do more than superficial damage as the metal cooled leaving an otherwise unimpressive scorch mark. She in turn flung several spheres of powder into the air around him, detonating them with snaps of her finger as they exploded into rainbow balls of force and flame. They didn't do any real damage, but they made a lot of noise, which was the point. Rockshow's nod was barely noticeable and she kept up her attacks, beams of light cutting ever-more radiant lines through the air, boosted by the constant noise generated from the explosions as well as the sound of Trainwreck's mechanical fighting as they dodged around his slow but dangerously powerful punches.
Another sphere went airborne, erupting into an explosion in front of what she thought was where he saw through. Or it might have been a grill or vent of some sort. Honestly, she couldn't tell where the machine bits ended and the person began. A sound like a roar echoed from within his suit and he twisted toward her, slamming his metallic fists down as she danced back, barely avoiding the accompanying burst of superheated steam that belched from his shoulders.
"Can you give me an opening on his left arm?" she asked into the headset built into her mask, one hand tapping the trigger for it in an almost careless appearing gesture as she avoided another attempt to hit her, tarmac cratering as hands the size of garbage can lids impacted with all the force of a freight train. Another set of detonations staggered her and she narrowly dodged his attempt to retaliate.
"Care to explain why you've gone off the rails?" she said out loud, her tone mocking. There was some sort of reply that she couldn't make out as pistons shifted, steam hissed, and he drove a fist toward where she was standing. Her desperate dodge to avoid a speeding mass of metal was carefully concealed as she rolled right back up into a standing position with the practiced poise of a performer.
"What's wrong, running out of steam? You know, that's why they switched to diesel and electric after all. Problems going all the way…" Hanabi asked, as a burst of light from Rockshow tore off an armored panel on his arm. It didn't appear to hit anything vital, but it did expose part of the internals.
"Light him up," Hanabi called out, closing her eyes as Rockshow dropped a burst of light right in front of him. Even through her mask and her eyelids, she could tell how bright it was and a pained scream echoed from within the suit.
"Over here, museum-piece," she called, pinging him with several more explosions. "Come on, who the hell uses steam engines anymore?" Nothing major, little more than irritants, but those, combined with the sound of her voice drew him to swing a fist down where he thought she was.
She sidestepped the blow, and watched as it sank down almost to the elbow into a hole she had filled with her explosive powder. Immediately, tendrils of it started to climb up his arm, flowing rapidly into the hole her partner had made with a scraping, rustling sound as grains of explosive powder crawled across the metal.
"I think," she said lazily as the material wound around parts within the arm, "that it's time we derail this train." She snapped her fingers as he wrenched his arm upward, gears and pistons squealing loudly as the powder caught and started to grind in the inner workings. There was a thunderous boom and the arm exploded just above the hole, spraying shrapnel and scraps of metal flying as the arm come apart in pieces, the hand crashing back down to the ground as cables and gears desperately flailed and grinded below the shoulder. Trainwreck reeled back, staggering as a tinny groan filled the air.
A moment later, he began moving away, picking up speed quickly. Hanabi fired off several more explosions after him, Rockshow's laser beams providing a counterpoint, but he didn't slow down and was soon out of sight from the pair. There was a moment of silence as the dust settled and the smell of ozone wafted through the air before Hanabi ran a hand through her hair and sighed with frustration.
"Dammit!" A glove hit the floor with a heavy smack. "Twice, fucking twice in a row Bone's gotten away from us and left us empty-handed. Bastard isn't even a B-lister and we can't bring him in, but we can make goddamn Trainwreck run with his tail-pipe between his legs!"
"Is not the latter better than the former?" Rockshow asked, moving to stand by her partner and daintily dusting concrete dust from the sleeves of her costume. "We stand to gain more prestige from having driven off Trainwreck, even if it is not financial."
Hanabi scowled fiercely as she kicked a rock across the open space. "Would have gained, you mean. Only people who saw were Boneyard and Trainwreck. And no way the scrap-reject is going to go home and say he got beat by a pair of Independents. He'd say he ran into half of New Wave or some bullshit."
"Perhaps," Rockshow replied, stepping around several small craters to where the remains of his mechanical lower arm lay. "But he will still know, as will we. And, after all, we do have proof, you realize."
Hanabi was silent for a moment, realization taking root as she actually looked and saw what they had. She crossed her arms and tilted her head thoughtfully "Maybe," she said. "We could see about turning that in...might be worth something," Hanabi mused, her frustration partly fading. "We should check into that. If nothing else, we might be able to sell it for scrap, at least. Come on, help me with the bits." She knelt and began picking up what she could and tucking it into the pack she had slung against her side. Rockshow did likewise after a moment and they had the smaller pieces gathered up.
The remaining piece was too big for either to pick up alone, but between the two of them, they were able to get the wrecked arm out to a nearby parking lot. It clanged loudly as both girls unceremoniously dropped it on the pavement with a huff of exertion. Rockshow of course was the picture-perfect example of poise and dignity even after that, while Hanabi turned the trophy into an impromptu seat while she caught her breath.
"'Bloody hell, I figured the suit had to weigh a ton but just the arm? How the hell does he even move in that thing?" she said once she could speak.
"I would presume that the engines and pistons do the moving for him and he just operates controls that cause them to move," Rockshow said serenely. "If he were capable of moving that much weight under his own power, I wager our confrontation with him would have gone much differently."
Hanabi grunted and kicked the metal of the arm with the back of her heel before leaning back slightly. "And of course, you're entirely reasonable about it. Geez."
"Whether we can gain compensation from the piece of his armor that we severed or not, I would say there was something more useful gained tonight," Rockshow observed.
Hanabi pointedly raised an eyebrow. "You're not getting Zen with me again, are you? Don't you dare go fortune cookie on me."
Rockshow nodded, smiling behind her mask. "I would dare say I am, and that I will," she said smugly. "You need a constant dose of wisdom now and then, or else you get out of hand."
The explosive cape grumbled petulantly as she dropped her chin into the cup of her hand. "I don't get out of hand…"
Her serene counterpart tilted her head inquisitively. "Oh? You don't? What about-" She barely dodged the cog hurled at her as Hanabi gave her a sharp look.
"Those don't count! I call foul on those times! They were out of my control." Hanabi protested.
Rockshow ignored the thrown cog, and walked over, taking a seat by her sulking comrade. "Regardless, we have effectively proven that together, we are an able match for a much more highly regarded cape than Boneyard. While we did not defeat him. we have proven that we are able to match him."
"Well, yeah, as long as we're together, we can do anything, right? Power of friendship and all that," Hanabi asked before sighing in her friend's direction and smiling weakly. "You're right. This was a big deal. I just wish someone had been here to see it."
Her friend nodded. "We could have had someone along with us tonight, you know," Rockshow pointed out lightly. "Which I think is the real reason you're testy."
Hanabi shook her head, looking off into the distance. "She's got her own problems right now, without us butting in. Just wish we could actually help with it."
"I am certain that we will get the opportunity, if we are patient," Rockshow said calmly. "In the meantime, losing your temper will only result in being of no help to anyone, and being far less effective in the long run. If we keep cool heads, we'll have our to turn to help."
"You're right," she muttered. "Like usual. Doesn't mean I have to like it, though."
"Nor do I," her partner said, glancing down the street as a pair of headlights turned the corner. "Tomorrow, we can talk to her, let her know that we are here if she needs us. Beyond that, we simply wait until she asks for us."
"Yeah, yeah," Hanabi muttered. "I think that's our ride. Surprised we haven't had Protectorate nosing in around us already though."
"We ran over that group of Merchants before Boneyard," she pointed out. "Perhaps they are occupied with that?"
"Maybe," Hanabi shrugged. "Anyway, let's get this thing picked up so we can toss it in and go."
However, as both girls stood, Rockshow suddenly looked pensive and her stance changed from relaxed to on-guard. "That… is not our ride," Rockshow said slowly. "The lights are wrong."
"Huh?" Hanabi looked up, frowning as she realized her partner was right. One of the headlights was flickering unreliably, almost swaying in the dark. Something she knew was impossible given her dad was meticulous about keeping everything in perfect working order. It drew closer and the sound of the engine, something she knew almost by heart, made it clear that this was not the nondescript van that Hanabi's parents used to pick them up.
Street lights washed against grimy, rusty metal as the motor groaned pitifully and something that looked like it belonged in a post apocalyptic movie became visible. Wearing goggles and a tube top, a dirty blonde-haired woman shouted something as she gunned the engine, the groaning turning into a metallic squeal as the vehicle leapt forward and barreled past. A second later, the high-pitched ping as something flew at them and hit the ground resulted in Rockshow tackling Hanabi backwards, an explosion of searing blue-tinged fire sending both tumbling across the parking lot as a shower of what was formerly pavement rained down on them with twin cries of pain.
Both their heads were left ringing from the blast. But it was Hanabi that noticed that the ringing was also physical and real as the falling tarmac was joined by the near musical pings and dings of falling metal. Trapped underneath the still-reeling form of Rockshow, she was only able to turn her head to see that the blast had reduced where they were before to a small crater, and their captured prize to scrap metal.
"Shit, are you okay?" she turned her head quickly as her senses returned, squirming to get a better look at her friend, who had her back to the explosion. Part of her jacket was burnt away and she could see skin, bleeding and raw, where the hole made it visible. Rockshow grunted in pain, punctuated with an indrawn breath as she tried to push herself up and failed, but did not immediately speak.
"Ah… this hurts quite a bit," she finally said. "My arm… ah... doesn't want to move."
Hanabi muttered several more profanities and carefully drew her friend's jacket down off her shoulder. An audible sound of pain froze her and she winced at what she could see. "I think you dislocated your shoulder. I can't see a break, but it's pretty swollen."
"Pull my coat back up," Rockshow said, muffling another pained grunt as Hanabi complied. "We… should get moving…"
"You're not moving anywhere right now," Hanabi said firmly, digging out her phone and checking that it was intact before dialing a number. "Where the hell are you guys? We need you here like five minutes ago!"
She paused a moment. "No, I'm damned well not watching my language! Rock's hurt because a crazy bitch threw a grenade at us! Get here now!" She hung up and stuffed the phone back into her pocket, grimacing and digging around for the first aid stuff they kept on hand.
"This is probably going to sting," she told her partner. "Probably will need to go over it again in case there's anything embedded, but at least this will help for the moment." She popped the lid off the spray can and began spraying. Rockshow drew in her breath with a pained hiss, wincing slightly when Hanabi pressed gauze against the wound gently and taped it there.
"Hopefully those two will show up soon instead of dicking around," Hanabi muttered, sitting down beside her friend. "Lean on me if you need to."
"They were probably delayed somehow," Rockshow said after a moment of settling herself. "You should be more respectful."
"Yeah, maybe when you're not hurting and needing more help than I can give, I'll think about it," she snorted. "Do I need to keep you awake?"
"I do not think I have a concussion," her partner admitted. "But that is probably a good idea."
"Alright. And for once in your life, could you not be so freaking composed? For fucks sake, you just got blown up. Swear or something. Like…" Hanabi looked around for a moment, before spotting the crater again. "Like swear about how we just lost our turn-in! The bitch blew it up!"
"Better it than us," Rockshow said, her tone carrying a note of humor. "Forgive me, I lack the energy to swear just now. Perhaps after school tomorrow."
"Tomorrow, heh," Hanabi murmured with a weak chuckle. "I don't think you're going to be up for school tomorrow. Not with your shoulder like that."
"Likely not," Rockshow admitted through gritted teeth. "I do not look forward to having this set."
"Make sure you have something to bite down on," Hanabi replied, glancing down the street as a new set of headlights appeared. Both were steady and the sound of the vehicle was familiar. "Come on, ride's here."
"I will need assistance getting up, I believe," she answered. Hanabi nodded and helped her partner to her feet, then slipped her good arm across her shoulders.
"This was not how I expected our night to end," Hanabi said as they limped toward the van. Her dad was out before it came to a halt and he easily picked up her friend. "Easy. Her shoulder's dislocated."
"We'll get it fixed once we're moving," he said. "Anything else?"
"Some scrapes on her back," Hanabi reported. "Didn't look too bad, but I didn't have a lot of light to work with. I'm good, thanks to her."
He nodded. "In the van and let's get out of here." Hanabi nodded and waited until he had Rockshow situated before clambering into the seat behind her. Her dad pulled the door closed and they started moving, driving back off into the night.
~~~~~~~~
"Report," Armsmaster said gruffly to Assault and Battery as he slid off his bike, smoothly unholstering his halberd in the same motion. Both heroes looked less than perfect, their costumes singed and battered. Assault in particular was picking at a tear in the fabric that was slowly exposing the armored layers beneath. The pair both looked tired and frazzled, but otherwise intact.
"Not much to say, boss," Battery murmured as she tried in vain to brush off a layer of soot that had settled on her shoulders. "Squealer did a smash and grab and tried to run off with Mush," The female half of the married pair nodded towards the PRT containment van parked farther down the road. And more so the burnt-out wrecks of a pair of patrol cars "She buzzed us a few times with a couple of explosives and nailed some cars, but both were empty so nobody was hurt. An agent managed to tag her buggy with some foam, but all it did was chase her off. We elected to stay with the van and Mush in case she was pulling a diversion, and Velocity called in saying was going to try and intercept her, but I haven't heard from him yet."
Armsmaster nodded, surveying the scene even as he watched an agent secure the backdoors to the van with his security key. "We got a call in just a moment ago that she slipped away. For now, he's out reinforcing Dauntless. There was a report of a disturbance nearby with Trainwreck, and they're investigating."
Assault and Battery nodded, settling into more professional attitudes. "Anything else boss?" was the response as Assault finally left the now highly noticeable tear in his suit alone. "Should we be getting back on patrol or…?"
Armsmaster shook his head, looking back to the pair as the PRT van drove off. "No. Both of you are going to be with me. We've got other reports of disturbances with the Merchants and the police are asking for aid handling them. Besides the reports we've already gotten in, we've received new ones of a yet unknown parahuman attack on a Merchant storehouse, and an another unresolved parahuman event elsewhere in the city."
Battery frowned even as Assault whistled. "Whoa. Looks like someone's done kicked the hornet's nest."
"Indeed," he growled. "And the Director wants us applying smoke to these hornets."
"Did he just make a joke again?" Assault asked Battery. "I didn't mishear, right?" He danced out of the way from an elbow that she had aimed for his stomach.
"You did not," the Protectorate leader said. "I would hardly call it a joke, however. While the situation is defusing naturally, as we are getting fewer and fewer reports, it's our job to keep it that way."
"Right-o," Assault said. "Where are we hitting first, chief?"
Armsmaster was a silent for a moment, before he nodded. "Boardwalk. There was where the first disturbance occurred. We've got agents already on the scene, but I want to know what started this."
"We'll meet you there," Battery said, grabbing Assault by the wrist and starting toward their car. Armsmaster went to his motorcycle and set off after them a moment later.
~~~~~~~~
Blowing off two days of school wasn't going to get me anywhere any faster at the pace I was at, so I decided it was time to head back to Winslow. Thankfully Mrs. Knott's class was first period on Wednesday, and I hammered out the assignment in short order. After that, I decided to follow through with my custom of browsing the web, and that was when I noticed the news from last night.
At first, I had only been looking to see if there was anything about me. I didn't find much about my own activities, but I did find several reports that showed me that my own two fights had been only part of a larger set of clashes between the Merchants and the authorities.
Only one article even mentioned me and it was only a reference to an unknown parahuman who had been assisting Glory Girl. PRT and Protectorate had declined to comment beyond that leaving me as a mystery cape that had showed up, helped to apprehend Mush, and then left. I shook my head and flipped over to Parahumans Online's forums section to see if there was anything about me there.
It took only a moment to create a fresh account, but even so, I wished the school computers were faster. Once it caught up, I began browsing, glancing over topics quickly before finding what I was looking for.
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♦Topic: New Capes of Brockton Bay thread XIV
In: Boards ► Cities ► Brockton Bay
Bagrat (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Posted on January 1, 2011:
New thread for New Capes of Brockton Bay. You can view the old thread here: New Capes of Brockton Bay, Thread XIII.
You know the drill. Post about new arrivals to the Brockton Bay cape scene here!
(Showing Page 8 of 8)
► Mr. Fabuu
Replied on March 2, 2011:
Looks like Brockton Bay's got another new cape. Looking at this article here, some unknown cape assisted Glory Girl. Has New Wave gotten some new blood? Anyone know anything about this new cape?
► Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied on March 2, 2011:
Heard nothing yet. PRT didn't give much of a report. @Bagrat. Know anything yet?
► Bagrat (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied on March 2, 2011:
Last night, in a dust-up with Mush that lead to his arrest, Glory Girl was seen in the company of a new cape. Word I've got is her first known night was last Friday, and she was also in Glory Girl's company at the time.
Powers... I've got nothing I can share. Name I'm hearing tossed about is Sirin, though. With an i, not an e. Maybe something sound-based?
I skimmed past the remaining posts, rolling my eyes at the largely useless content that followed Bagrat's post. After a few minutes more of reading if my costume made me look hot, I closed the page with a sigh, glancing to my right out of habit to where Catherine usually sat. I jerked back reflexively as I came face to face with the other girl who had appeared beside me without notice while being remarkably quiet
"Finally back with us?" Catherine asked, a mixture of amusement and worry radiating off of her. Mostly worry and I frowned while composing myself and trying to figure out what was wrong.
"Sorry, was looking up stuff," I said, focusing my attention on her. "You alright? You look a bit out of it."
She made a face. "Mina's out today. I'm just worried about her."
"Sick?" I asked, then glanced around discreetly and lowered my voice. "Or did something happen?"
Catherine's face twisted around in worry and concern, and strangely enough anger. "Bad run," was her simple answer. I reached over and gave her shoulder a squeeze, projecting reassuring thoughts as I did so. She smiled wanly at me in response.
"Want to talk about it later, during lunch, maybe?" I asked. "How bad, though?"
"Bad enough," Catherine said. "She's out of commission at least for the rest of the week, and won't be in any shape to for school till at least tomorrow. And yeah, we can talk about it more later."
"Okay," I said, then glanced at her screen. "Need help with that?"
Catherine looked at the screen and her barely touched assignment, then to me. "If you're willing, sure."
The rest of the period passed quickly, as I walked her through the basics of a multi-page website. Nothing complex, but setting it up right had it's own nuances that she needed help with. We separated afterwards as we went to our individual classes, with a resolution to meet up again at lunch.
Professor Singer, or Armsmaster, whatever, was apparently gone, replaced by someone else that I paid little attention to, the bulk of my awareness on how the school felt different somehow. I couldn't focus on anything but trying to pin down why. It itched at the back of my mind. Something important that I was familiar with, but had never bothered to identify till now.
I think, at it's core, it was the feeling of something missing. I wandered down the hall after that class, nodding absently when someone said hello or acknowledged me, running possibilities through my head to figure out what it was. I went from class to class as lunch grew closer, yet it only seemed as if I was getting farther from a realization as I smiled and returned a friendly greeting from a passing student automatically as I continued on auto-pilot.
What is it? There's something...not-wrong here. Something is different, more then it has been. What am I missing? It feels like it should be obvious to me, but I just can't…
Lunch finally rolled around, and I joined the flow of students towards the cafeteria, meeting Catherine just before I went in.
"Eat in or find someplace private?" I asked, picking a few things from the line, eyeing the day's choices with distaste. Winslow didn't have the best cafeteria food ever, but today especially looked unappealing.
"I'm not much for company today," Catherine said quietly. "I figure we should we should get somewhere quiet. Any place in mind?"
"It's a nice day out. Roof?" I asked, paying for my food.
"Isn't that locked?" Catherine wondered, taking care of her own food.
"Like that would stop me," I answered rolling my eyes as we crossed the cafeteria, nodding absently to someone who waved at me. Catherine in turn looked at me oddly, quirking an eyebrow at my action. "What? Is there something on my face?"
"No," Catherine said, half-smiling. "You seem to be getting a lot of attention, though."
"Attention?" I blinked in confusion as I looked back over the cafeteria, to the student who had waved at me. And I realized, I didn't even know who they were. I thought back to earlier as well, to the students I had talked to during the day. And I realized again, I had no idea who any of them were. "What…"
"You hadn't noticed?" Catherine asked as we headed up the stairwell toward the roof. A manipulation of the lock and we were outside. We both sat down, leaning back against the air vents.
"No," I admitted. "I hadn't really. When did this…?"
Catherine shrugged. "It's been happening for a bit. Since Sophia went away. Emma too, I guess, but she wasn't doing much recently, was she?"
Emma. I shook my head, pushing away thoughts of how she had been the last time I saw her. "I don't want to talk about Emma, if that's alright." I probably wasn't going to see her again, I thought, and that was one of the lower points of the past few days. I wasn't sure how I was feeling. On one hand, it was Emma. But on the other, I couldn't help but remember how she had looked when myself and her father found her at the hospital. Or what she had said. I'd forced it out of my mind with all that had happened, but now…
I shook my head. "Yeah, no Emma talk. Minako. What happened?"
Catherine viciously stabbed something that I thought was supposed to be salisbury steak with her fork. "First, we had another run in with Boneyard. We almost had him, too. Then, of all people, fucking Trainwreck showed up and Boneyard got away in the confusion. We ended up in a fight with him that I guess was a draw. After that… Squealer. Bitch lobbed a grenade at us in a drive-by, and Mina covered me, taking the worst of it."
"Shit," I said, my fork dropping onto my tray. "You said she's going to be alright, though, right?"
"I think so," Catherine muttered. "But I'm still worried. She got banged up pretty good."
"How bad, really?" I asked, almost dreading the answer.
"Arm dislocated, but that was fixed last night," Catherine rattled off. "Got scorched pretty bad on her back and some debris hit her. She won't be going out til that heals. You wouldn't believe the dodge we had to go through to stop her parents from asking weird questions."
"Want me to come over for cheering up and support after school?" I questioned, glancing sidelong at her.
"Minako would probably appreciate it, but are you sure you can?" Catherine asked with a worried expression. "You've got your own set of issues to deal with still, after all."
I didn't say anything for a moment, weighing her question with both my own thoughts and a touch of foresight. Coming to school today meant I hadn't had opportunity to do further research into how to convince my dad and I had spent the free time in Mrs. Knott's class looking up details about myself and last night.
"I've got a few things to take care of, but I can stop by for a little bit, at least," I finally said, nodding emphatically. "Sound good?"
"That sounds good." Catherine smiled slightly, then frowned and poked at the things on her tray once more. "I think that moved. Is salisbury steak supposed to be that color?"
"I'm fairly sure it died after the first time you stabbed it, but my only experience with salisbury steak is in those microwave meals," I said. "I'm not even sure if salisbury steak is a real thing beyond those. I think they made a patty of something that is supposed to be meat and called it steak. Then slapped salisbury in front of it to make it sound special."
"And the things they call mashed potatoes? Ick," Catherine said with an actual smile before glancing toward the door to the roof with a half-frown. "Are we going to get in trouble by being out here?"
I stared off into space for a moment. "No. We'll be down the stairs and on the way to class well before the next security guard performs checks on the secured exits."
"Nice," she said with a relieved whistle. "You know, being able to see the future is very cool."
"Sometimes," I said with a half-smile. "Other times, not so much. But it definitely has its advantages. Being able to sneak around security is one."
"Oh, sneaking off with a boy, you mean?" Catherine asked with a teasing lilt to her voice. "Using your precog to find the perfect place that you and he can…"
"Catherine!" I interrupted, flushing. "There isn't any boy and I wouldn't do something like.. like that."
"Girl, then," Catherine shrugged with a sly grin as my face started to burn. "Legend's married to another guy, after all. Like anyone cares nowadays."
"No girls, either," I said, wanting to bury my face in my hands but I would upset the tray if I did that… wait, no...I wouldn't. My telekinesis took hold of the lunch tray while I hid my undoubtedly crimson face with my hands. "Geez, what is it with thinking I'm into girls. Vicky was teasing me with that too."
"Oh, Vicky, is it?" Catherine said, smirking as I glanced through splayed fingers. "Holding someone out on us, are you?"
"No! Vicky's well… she's Vicky…" I squawked, then took a deep breath. "As in Victoria Dallon. Glory Girl."
"Glory Girl's your secret girlfriend?" Catherine asked innocently. "Man, is Mina going to be upset she wasn't here to find that out!"
"I give up," I said, my face still burning. I caught my tray with my hands. "Lunch's almost over anyway."
"Alright, alright," Catherine said. "Don't be so uptight, Tay. You need to take things little less serious, and they'll be a lot more fun."
"Maybe," I shrugged, my mood taking a sudden downswing. "A bit bogged down with things that require being serious lately, I suppose."
Catherine nudged me with her shoulder carefully. "It'll work out, Taylor. I may not be able to see the future, but I believe it will. Until you actually break the law or something, the PRT can't force you to do anything. You just have your dad to contend with, and he'll come around."
"I wish that were true," I grimaced sourly. "I looked over the papers pretty thoroughly. If my dad signs them, then yeah, they basically have legal authority to do as they please. My cape identity, what I wear, how I act, all under their control and if I don't comply, then they can sanction me, essentially."
I sighed. "I'm being ungenerous, I know. It isn't quite as bad as that, but I can't help but worry about what they can do over what they probably will."
"I wouldn't know myself," Catherine said, looking off the rooftop over the city. "I don't want to say that I was just lucky or anything. I never intended to join the Wards, and my dad never really tried to force me. When I told him, he said that if I wasn't going to play as part of a team, then I was going to at least play by his rules. Then Mina and me got back together, and we started to go out together. And my dad was happy with that."
"Wish it was that easy with my dad," I said morosely. "I'm afraid of what I might end up doing if I can't convince him. Even if I talk him down to just the affiliated membership, I'm worried there are ways they can exploit it and effectively make me a Ward without any of the supposed benefits for me."
Catherine gave me a weak smile and a slap on the shoulder. "Like I said, don't worry. Your dad will come around, and then you can both sort it out. Or just tell them no altogether."
I glanced over at her. "Let's hope so. C'mon, we should head down and dump these in the cafeteria now if we want to get to class in time." I manipulated the lock again and we started back down into the school.
~~~~~~~~
Danny stared dazedly at the computer screen. It was late enough in the day that no one was going to chastise him for using his work computer for non-work tasks, but all the same, he wished someone would, so that he could tear his eyes from what he was reading.
She went out again. There wasn't a lot to go on, but he had heard from some of his people about one of the Merchants getting into a fight with Glory Girl and some other cape. One had mentioned that the other was a girl and he had been suspicious then. Seeing the information on the news site, followed by an awkward visit to Parahumans Online and now he he was certain.
Taylor had gone out and put herself in danger. Again. She had kept it from him. Again. He sighed, hands gripping the edge of his desk as he considered what to do. He hadn't said she couldn't go, but he had hoped it had been implied. Now, he wish he had outright said it. The thing is, he wasn't sure if it would have made a difference.
Grimacing, he shutdown his computer and began putting away his paperwork for the day. He didn't know what to do. She was opposed to being a Ward and other than her rant about them hounding her, hadn't given him any real reasons as to why. There had been her argument that she couldn't trust them, but no reason given. There had been her comment about the Director and how she only wanted more Wards as bodies on the street, but she hadn't expanded on that, instead storming off to her room.
He sighed. There was just so little that he understood about her anymore and it felt like the divide widened further every day. It was like he looked away for a second and now his daughter was someone else entirely, aggressive and ever-ready to lash out rather than his quiet, withdrawn little girl. Someone defiant and angry with every spoken word. Someone he didn't know.
She was still his daughter though, even if she was so different. And he wanted her to be safe. He had hoped she would heed him, give them both space and time, that they might find some common ground. But she had gone out and put herself in danger again. There wasn't, he feared, anyway to stop her from doing that just by himself. Taylor had already made that point that he couldn't stop her.
But, if he was willing, then he could at least make sure she was safe. Safer. She was all he had left of Annette. He couldn't, wouldn't lose that if he could help it. Couldn't let down Annette. Taylor might not like- no, wouldn't like it, but she would be looked after where he couldn't any longer. He at least had that assurance from them. Taylor's reactions made him wonder about those assurances, but… the Wards program had existed for nearly twenty years. They had to have dealt with situations like this before. They would know what to do, he was sure. Then they could help him understand what was happening. Perhaps after the dust settled, he could hope that they would help build that bridge between them again. Be the middleman or translator in letting him get a grasp on how to understand his daughter. With luck, she might be herself again and not the angry person he saw now.
He finished filing the last of the papers and began closing up the office. Like most days, he had worked late and was the last person here. He shut off lights and left, locking up behind him before crossing the parking lot to his truck. Getting in, he looked over to the passenger seat and the folder of paperwork that sat there. It was new, and still had that smell of coming fresh off the printer. He had picked it up this morning since he wasn't sure what Taylor had done with the other papers.
Crisp, unwrinkled, and tempting. The adage that it was better to ask forgiveness than permission came to mind as he looked at them. Taylor was obviously determined to keep going out regardless of what he said. Danny drummed his hands on the steering wheel for a long moment before starting the ignition. The question that haunted him though, was if he asked, would Taylor ever give it?
If she doesn't… was he okay with that? There would be someone to look after her, where he clearly couldn't any longer. She would have support, people with powers that could talk to her, help her, keep her safe. That was what mattered, wasn't it? If she didn't forgive him, could he be okay with that if the result meant she wasn't putting herself in danger alone?
He took a deep breath and put the truck in gear as he made his decision, pulling out of the mostly empty parking lot.
* * *
Wrapping up everything had taken longer than he thought, and as he pulled into the driveway he could see the kitchen lights shining through the window. Taylor was likely home and fixing dinner by now if he was not mistaken. He sat there for a long moment in the truck, looking at the folder sitting in the passenger seat and wrestling with himself. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his coat and the folder and got out. The walk to the side door took strangely longer, a moment stretching into forever with all the tension of a coiled spring. As he opened the door and stepped into the kitchen a burning, acidic smell hit him, making him blanche and frown as he covered his face with an arm of his coat.
"Ah, hell," he rushed to the oven, pulling on a pair of mitts and grabbing the burnt garlic bread from within. The squeal of the smoke alarm made him wince, dropping the burnt bread and pan into the sink under a stream of water as he instead wrestled with the broomhandle to reach up and silence it. With the din silenced and dinner now soaking in the sink, Danny finally had time to look around, wondering where Taylor was when his eyes fell on a steaming pile of lasagna and glass on the floor that in his haste he had missed.
Had she had dropped the pan and it broke? That was odd, for her, Taylor was usually very careful when she cooked. He sat the folder down on the counter next to a half-crumpled piece of notebook paper and looked around for a moment before heading into the hallway, unease tracing down his spine.
"Taylor?" he called out, looking around, worry building when there was no response. There weren't any signs of violence beyond the mess in the kitchen, but something still felt wrong.
"Taylor?" he called out again as he started up the stairs. No response again and he went to her door, pushing it open when he saw it wasn't closed.
The light was on, but the room was empty. Opposite him, the window was wide open, curtains fluttering in a faint breeze. He stared at that for a moment before his gaze panned around the room, noting the wardrobe that was still open, drawers haphazardly arranged, clothes scattered everywhere. Her school books were scattered across the bed, clearly thrown out in haste.
Danny stood there for a moment, staring at the scene and trying to process. His mouth went dry and electric chills of dread raced up and down his spine.
"Taylor?" He asked numbly.
A lonely whistle of wind was the only answer.
--
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Well, at least we now know that Boneyard is working for Coil at least.
Man, sucks for Hanabi and Rockshow. An otherwise decent outing ruined by Squealer.
I get the feeling Danny chose poorly.
I get the feeling Danny chose poorly.
Huh. Well spotted, that is a good possibility.
apeljohn
Non-Player Character
- Location
- Earth Aleph
Welp, that was predictable*. Taylor seems to be operating on the principle of "stab me in the back once, shame on you; stab me in the back twice, shame on me". She actively avoids being in close proximity to people who have blown their chance. She has a power that means she can take care of herself perfectly well. And Danny knows all this, and yet apparently didn't consider the possibility that she would just rabbit?
. All the s. And a 
for good measure.
* Not a criticism of the story, which is great, but an in-story criticism of Danny. Regardless of the morality ofindentured servitude being signed up to the Wards, Danny's chosen strategy was clearly not going to be terribly effective since he has no leverage over Taylor other than what she chooses to give him. Which, with this latest perceived betrayal, is nil.
. All the s. And a for good measure.* Not a criticism of the story, which is great, but an in-story criticism of Danny. Regardless of the morality of
Odds are that Danny might rationalize it seeing it as Taylor getting abducted rather than her running away. With Worm being Worm Danny will probably report it to the PRT while Taylor goes to Rockshow for help. PRT, being PRT and Worm being as grim-dark as it is, will assume the worst and think that Rockshow abducted Taylor and launch an assault against them.
Yep, seems on course for a Worm fic.
Yep, seems on course for a Worm fic.
chibipoe
May I tell you of the glory that is Catradora?
- Location
- Astoria, Oregon
Putting together some lunch, so wanted to address this. All of(that Taylor knows) three people know she is a precog. Catherine, Minako, and Vicky. Her dad doesn't know(unless I'm completely forgetting something somewhere else)
He didn't figure that she would just run, no. He figured, even angry as she is of late in his eyes, that she would at least blow up at him and they could try talking. And even then, his reasoning is: She may be angry at me, but she'll be looked after. I can deal with that.
Too much faith in the system and not really sinking in that she doesn't have that.
Inverness
The Foxiest Wife
Pretty much this.Welp, that was predictable*. Taylor seems to be operating on the principle of "stab me in the back once, shame on you; stab me in the back twice, shame on me". She actively avoids being in close proximity to people who have blown their chance. She has a power that means she can take care of herself perfectly well. And Danny knows all this, and yet apparently didn't consider the possibility that she would just rabbit?
* Not a criticism of the story, which is great, but an in-story criticism of Danny. Regardless of the morality ofindentured servitudebeing signed up to the Wards, Danny's chosen strategy was clearly not going to be terribly effective since he has no leverage over Taylor other than what she chooses to give him. Which, with this latest perceived betrayal, is nil.
Thanks, it's only because I have been looking for all the info I could find on Trainwreck that I remembered that he was a spy for Coil amongst the Merchants, and wondered why he was saving Boneyard from being caught.
Also personally I thought it was one of Coil's agents that attacked Hanabi and Rockshow to be honest, but your idea sounds more logical then mine did. I mean if it was Coil then he would of taken them captive...
Right?
apeljohn
Non-Player Character
- Location
- Earth Aleph
No need to address it - it made perfect sense given Danny's characterisation. I thoroughly enjoyed (in a schadenfreudey sort of way) the sense of slow-motion trainwreck around the relevant sections of this instalment.
Doesn't make me want to slap him upside the head any less. It's a sign of your writing's high quality that I'm getting this heated up about in-universe foolishness.
How do you know he didn't?