Castle_Bravo
The user formerly known as Nuke_Equestria
The straits have been mined. Subs hunt the shipping lanes. There is only a water grave for your ships.
Firebird, a Worm AU/Xover?
- Thread starter chibipoe
- Start date
Meh. This isn't the story for shipping. That would be Wildfire
Charlie/Kinesis x Renee/Mouse Protector OTP
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EDIT: More on topic:
Is there any way in which the sheer bloody minded stupidity of people when it comes to poking the monster in Worm will not have this whole mess end in fire and the wailing of the damned?
Maybe Taylor, deep down, is a more stable person than Jean Grey...
Yeah, I couldn't keep a straight face either.
Charlie/Kinesis x Renee/Mouse Protector OTP
-----------------------
EDIT: More on topic:
Is there any way in which the sheer bloody minded stupidity of people when it comes to poking the monster in Worm will not have this whole mess end in fire and the wailing of the damned?
Maybe Taylor, deep down, is a more stable person than Jean Grey...
Yeah, I couldn't keep a straight face either.
Last edited:
Dopplerdee
Accident Prone(Yes the caps are necessary)
- Location
- Happy Place
- Pronouns
- She/Her
....wait she has parts of Jean Greg in her head and she hasn't died and come back yet!?!
OverReactionGuy
Verified Sanity
Give it a year.
Well... It's not the only thing Jean does. She actually used to be a very dynamic and interesting character. Before the Phoenix mess, she actually once got Dr Strange to help the X-Men out by being charming and not causing any creeper vibes off the much older Strange. It was kinda cool.
She was also a total Queen Bee with four guys basically acting as her devoted drone-men with only two of them having the remotest shot at being more than friends with her. (Five if you count the Professor
)She also used to hang out with a hard boiled private detective, smoke, drink, convince Wolverine to join the X-Men permanently by being sexy and charming at him, and generally be pretty kickass, all without Cosmic Power!, so I think a shot of that Jean Grey could do Taylor some good.
It was only much later on that she became a one note character.
OverReactionGuy
Verified Sanity
She was also a total Queen Bee with four guys basically acting as her devoted drone-men with only two of them having the remotest shot at being more than friends with her. (Five if you count the Professor
give it a week at most and Taylor conquered the school.
Lenimentus
Ignorant but learning.
To be fair, the people in worm have no idea that they're poking a monster, it's not stupidity so much as ignorance.
Except they totally do it in canon too, Like Alexandria pissing off one of the people well situated to take advantage of her one weakness, for instance.
Alexandria misread Taylor because her body reactions were thrown off by her off-loading reactions into her swarm; Miss Militia and Defiant confirmed that antagonizing people and reading their micro-expressions to tailor her strategy was standard Alexandria strategy.
And it's of note that even Taylor did not expect to actually kill Alexandria with that trick.
OverReactionGuy
Verified Sanity
That somehow makes it worse. Taylor accidentally killed Alexandria.
I read it more like she was aiming to kill Alexandria, but acknowledged that outcome as...unlikely. No accidents there.
earthboy
(verified ape)
- Location
- NYC
- Pronouns
- He/Him
daimahou
Hear... Feel... Think...
- Location
- 「 」
Why is there no facepalm rating here?
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I'm not quite sure how hard you'd have to hit someone in order to drive the air from their legs but I don't think that they would be walking away from it.
So does that mean Taylor is secretly Aegis?
chibipoe
May I tell you of the glory that is Catradora?
- Location
- Astoria, Oregon
I have no idea what you mean. There's no errors like that. Nope, none at all.
Why is there no facepalm rating here?
There's a field for it in the statistics page yet it doesn't seem to be possible to use it to rate a post
Gear
Set Moon to Ramming Speed!
The picard rating can only be used on the first post of a thread, and I think is limited to non-sci-fi boards.
"Rotted Lung's crotch off too... by accident. So I guess what I'm saying, punk... is that you should be polite. Or you might have an accident."
"Imp!"
And now no one remembers why they're crossing their legs.
Just caught up, have to say I like your take on the characters' personalities and the lack of super-competence.
Slumber 1.7
chibipoe
May I tell you of the glory that is Catradora?
- Location
- Astoria, Oregon
1.7
Thursday.
I stared at my stomach in the mirror, eyeing the nasty looking bruise there with a frown. It still ached, but It wasn't slowing me down too much and I didn't think anything was broken or cracked. I still couldn't help but hiss a little as muscles protested the poking and prodding, before I let my shirt drop and stared blearily at the mirror. I had to squint at small things and I frowned, looking around for my glasses.
Oh, right. They were crushed to bits in the mall parking lot. I grimaced. I would have to go get some replacements. Oh well, I was due for a check-up anyway if my memory was right. Leaving the bathroom, I went for my room to get the rest of my things. My backpack had been torn enough that I didn't want to use it for school. Thankfully, I had an old messenger bag that was a bit worn, but still functional.
Going downstairs was only possible from having taken those stairs so many times. I waved absently at my dad, who was assembling his lunch.
"Do you need me to take you by the optometrist after school?" he asked, looking in my direction as I entered the kitchen.
"I haven't made an appointment yet," I said, grabbing and orange and starting to peel it. "Still kicking myself for putting them down."
"Don't do that," he murmured. "Blame whoever made off with them."
"I was thinking," I began while peeling away the last of the orange's skin, "that I might try contacts instead of glasses."
My dad looked up, tilting his head in that manner that I knew meant he was thinking about it. "That's not a bad idea. Make the appointment and we'll see what prices look like."
"That'd be nice," I said, peering at the clock while chucking the last piece of orange into my mouth. "I need to go catch the bus. I'll see you after school!"
"Have a good day, Taylor!" my dad called out as I left, blinking as the early morning sun made me wince slightly. A whole day without my glasses. I would be lucky if I didn't have a headache after first period.
I reached the stop for the bus and there were a few other people waiting. I nodded to them, then leaned against the plexiglass that made up the rain cover, checking my watch for when the bus would pass by.
The bus still had five minutes and I put my arm down, wincing as I heard something that almost felt like static. It was like sound, but not, a scratchy, uneven sensation, springing to life close to me. I twitched a bit and stepped away from the plexiglass, glancing toward the others standing around, but no one was holding anything that could have produced the sound that wasn't.
"Weird," I muttered to myself, earning a couple of odd looks from the people close enough to hear me apparently talking to myself.
The bus arrived and I found an empty seat quickly, closing my eyes so I could relax for a moment as I leaned against the glass. Even with the noise and vibration of the engine as it rolled through town, I almost missed my stop by nearly dozing off.
There weren't many students present yet, but the gang colors while fewer were still prominent enough that you couldn't miss them. Whatever their point had been for coming out so openly, I guessed they had accomplished it. I didn't normally go to the cafeteria for breakfast, but I was still strangely hungry so I made that my first destination since I had arrived earlier than I expected to.
Two sausage biscuits later and I felt a little better, but the sound I had heard before the bus arrived had come back, if fainter than it had been, pulses of sound that had me fighting the urge to turn around and look for the source.
I forced myself to ignore the sound, drinking the container of orange juice when it abruptly stopped and I heard something that almost made sense. I turned and saw Madison approaching. When our eyes met, she stopped and looked hesitant for a moment, then simply nodded before walking past without doing or saying anything to me.
"What… just happened?" I said aloud, frowning slightly. Usually, Madison was always ready with an insult or something petty like spitballs aimed at me. She never just nodded and went on. I scanned the cafeteria quickly, in case her out of the ordinary behavior was a distraction, but no one was approaching to play some prank on me.
I turned back toward where Madison was in line, still frowning. The sound returned for a moment and I could almost make sense of it. Madison's behavior had changed for some reason. But why? Was it something I had done?
I grabbed my trash and headed for the exit, thinking of last night. Those men had been afraid of me and it was something I had made happen. Was her nodding to me something I had done as well? I left the cafeteria as quickly as I could, wincing when the sound returned as I navigated down the hall. What was causing it?
I found an empty classroom and leaned against the wall, trying to clear my head, to think. Last night, I had done something to those muggers. Was this related? Cold certainty trickled down my neck as realization. It was. It had to be. I had some other powers aside from the precog and shield? I fished in my bag and took out a notebook, putting it on the desk with my back to the door so no one could see.
I hadn't thought about it last night, or this morning, but maybe… I stared at the notebook, holding my hand above it and focusing on the feeling from last night. The notebook shifted slightly, so little movement that I thought I might have imagined it when, unsteadily, uneven, it began to rise toward my hand.
An almost giddy laugh escaped as I stared at the notebook, feeling it move in response to my thoughts. There was no sense of weight, but there was… I didn't know how to describe it. A sense of pressure. What I was doing took some effort and I thought there was, for a moment, the faintest hints of blue surrounding the notebook.
I wanted to shout out loud in excitement. I had something tangible. Not just being able to see the future, but telekinesis. I could move things with my mind. I let a smile creep onto my face as I stared at the rotating notebook.
The door opened abruptly behind me and I gasped, my concentration lapsing. The notebook fell like a puppet with it's strings cut and I made a grab for it, but only succeeded in knocking it to the floor.
"You're in early," the teacher's aide said, obviously recognizing me even I couldn't put a name to her face. "Sorry if I startled you, just dropping some things off for the Professor." She deposited a folder on his desk and raised an eyebrow as I scrambled to pick up my notebook and smooth any pages out.
"It's ok," I said, barely able to calm my racing heart. Between her coming in and what I had figured out… "I was just surprised, is all." I tucked the notebook back into my bag before heading toward my seat. Professor Singer's class was my first one of the day and I should have paid more attention to which room I went in. I could have been moving things and had him walk in.
The man barely made a sound when he was moving around the room during class. There were rumors floating around that he had been some sort of military officer after the way he had cowed some of the gang members. I wasn't sure about that, but the few times I watched him out of the corner of my eye, it was like watching some great big predatory animal prowling around. A well-muscled, predatory animal that happened to resemble a man.
I flushed, shaking my head and got my sketchbook out to distract myself from stupid thoughts. I had other things to worry about, like the blank page in front of me. I tapped the pencil on the edge of the paper, biting my lip thoughtfully. The sketches I had made so far, none of them felt right. I needed something different. Something that was me now and not hideously impractical.
My eyes fell on my sleeve, the gold bands contrasting with the black prompting me to smile a bit. It really was a nice jacket and I needed to think of a way to repay Vicki and Dean. Well, mostly Dean. But I didn't have the slightest idea where to start, since he clearly had nearly everything he could want, if he thought nothing of spending that much money on someone he barely knew.
The pencil started moving across the paper as I watched people filter into the room slowly. The bursts of noise had returned and I felt a distinctly uncomfortable sensation in my stomach that told me I was likely going to have some other problems soon. I kept drawing though, letting the pen move freely to distract me from both the noise and other issues. Hopefully, I could get through today without feeling too bad.
The class room was mostly full as Colin walked in, his briefcase and a satchel in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. He waved absently to the class and sat his belongings down, scanning the room quickly to determine that everyone was present. Seeing that everyone that was supposed to be there was in attendance, he crossed to the front of his desk and leaned against it.
"Today, I believe we're going to spend the class discussing instead of just giving you an assignment," he said, looking them over. "We've covered a great deal in the few weeks I've been here, but I want to go in a different direction today. Instead of discussing and parroting what we read in a book, I want your opinions."
When he saw he had their attention, even those students who were normally disruptive, he pushed away from the desk, pacing across the front of the room. "Put simply, I'm sure it's something we take for granted now, almost thirty years since the appearance of Scion. None of you are old enough to know a world where we didn't have parahumans. That is the world we live in, however, so I want to know your thoughts on that. How do you feel knowing that you live in a city where you could become a casualty of a fight between capes simply because they got out of control?"
"We have the Protectorate and the Wards! They wouldn't let something like that happen." one of the students in the back yelled. He let the faintest of smiles appear as he focused on the speaker.
"As much as I believe in the Protectorate and their younger counterparts, Eric," he said, "I'm aware of the fact that they cannot be everywhere all the time. For instance, last week, at Cornell University, a student obtained powers and used them to threaten and harm many of her classmates and instructors."
"The circumstances under which she obtained those abilities are, at present, being withheld from the public, but what I do know is she constructed several bombs that she threatened the university with, as well as inflicting injury and death on many there." he finished. "Without powers, would the damage she inflicted be anywhere near as severe?"
He scanned the room, looking at the students there, nodding as a blonde raised her hand. "Yes, Jerrica?"
The girl dropped her hand, tugging on one of her star shaped earrings in a nervous gesture. "Are you saying we shouldn't place our trust in them?"
"Of course he isn't," the first boy said, sneering. "Are you stupid?"
"That will do, Mr. Raymond," Colin said sharply. "There are better ways to express your disagreement with another. That will be detention this afternoon with me." He turned his attention back to the girl.
"What I am saying is I want all of you to consider the effect parahumans have had on our society. We all have choices to make as we go through life and consider this, no one's choices are less important than another's, but you choose to turn left at an intersection instead of right. How does that affect you and everyone around you? As much as I am loathe to consider anyone else's choices less important, there is a question of scale."
"What do you mean, Professor?" another blonde asked, looking at him. He eyed the girl and her blonde bob cut, searching his memory quickly for her name while considering how to answer.
"Well, Meg," he said, "Consider. You have two people. One is an ordinary person like you and I and the other has powers. We'll say the other has the power to build things. Perhaps they develop technology similar to that old show, The Six Million Dollar Man, and are able to safely implant it in a person."
"Bionics, you mean?" Meg asked, shifting in her seat slightly. The reference made her uncomfortable for some reason. Colin made a mental note to look into that later.
"Exactly," he replied. "Now, our bionics tinker takes a random person off the street and tests his or her work, making that random person many times stronger and faster than most anyone they encounter. Perhaps they have shoulder-mounted sonic weapons, or hidden wrist lasers."
"Unfortunately, our tinker hasn't done any sort of research into the person he is giving these abilities to," Colin went on. "The person he performs his work on decides that he is going to rob a bank, because he has power now. With his enhancements, he is stronger and faster than anyone he faces. Several people are hurt because the man has no regard for anyone's safety and believes himself invincible."
"So, we have two choices that have affected many people's lives," Colin said. "The tinker, for just deciding to pursue his research and change someone without thinking of any potential consequences, created a situation where another person chose to hurt many people solely for his own benefit." He paused, looking over the room and saw he had everyone's attention, even, apparently, Taylor Hebert's, though her pencil was still moving across the notepad she had on her desk. Drawing again, he assumed, frowning internally as she wasn't giving any apparent regard for what was on the paper.
"Meanwhile, we have our person who has no powers," he continued. "He has a wife who is very ill and needs medical treatment. Their insurance won't provide for it, claiming it as a pre-existing condition and outside their coverage. The company he works for is suffering a decline due to heavy competition and he has no one he can call on to help him. Desperate, he elects to rob a bank as well because he needs the money to help his wife."
"But won't that just get him into trouble?" another student asked, a broad-shouldered member of Winslow's football team. "He'll be a criminal."
"You'll find, Jonathan," he told the young man, "that people in desperate circumstances are willing to do a lot that they wouldn't normally consider. In this case, he is willing to do this because he doesn't see any other options. Even so, he plans everything out meticulously, trying to account for every possibility.
"Why does he do that?" was the reply. "To avoid hurting anyone?"
"An excellent hypothesis, Mr. Quick," he said, leaning to one side of his desk and making a note on one of his notepads. "One that is more or less correct, as well. Our beleaguered family man is an engineer by trade and accustomed to thinking of unorthodox solutions. He can't account for every possibility, admittedly, as that would be largely impossible, but he is thorough enough that his preparations allow him to perform the robbery without hurting anyone."
"He thinks he didn't hurt anyone," a brown haired, lanky teen said from the back row, looking bored. "But what about the money he stole? The people who were terrorized while he was robbing the bank?"
"Well, by his view, no one was hurt, Kevin. You see, he was considering only physical hurt. Anyone that was healthy when he entered was still healthy when he left. Abstracts weren't entering into his mind at all when he decided to do this." Colin explained. "Which brings me to the point, at last. Choice. Our choices define who we are, as I said. However, as much as I am loathe to consider one person's choices greater than any other's, a parahuman's choices do tend to have significantly more impact than those of someone who isn't."
He paced across the front of the room. "So, that's what I want you to all discuss today. Choices made by parahumans and how they affect the world around them. I don't have any particular expectations as to how you pair up as long as you do, but I do expect each of you to converse on the topic with as many of your classmates as possible, so no forming a group and ignoring the rest of the room for the period."
Colin pulled out his chair and settled down at his desk. "If you have any questions, feel free to approach me, otherwise, you have your assignment for the period." He opened his laptop and began going over some of his work as the classroom erupted into conversation.
Catherine winced slightly as she sat in the uncomfortable desk, listening to the teacher drone on about something utterly meaningless. That they spent so much time trying to attach meaning to Shakespeare made her want to cry. It was just Shakespeare. He didn't write anything to attach some grand meaning to his plays. They were the equivalent of television at the time.
She turned her head to look out the window, cradling her chin in her palm. A vibration against her leg drew her attention and she glanced toward the teacher, who was busy reading something aloud while peering at the pages of the book she held. The woman's nose was so far into the book that Catherine doubted she could see anything else.
Shaking her head, she slipped her phone from her pocket and flipped it open, holding it out of sight and reading the message before sending a quick reply to Minako. Closing it, she looked at her fingers and grimaced. The phone went back in her pocket and she fished out a cuticle pusher and some wipes, cleaning away the black smudges beneath her nails and wiping her fingers clean.
The wipes were stealthily tucked away in a plastic baggie sticking out the top of her backpack for throwing away later. The teacher finally withdrew from her book and scanned the room, looking sternly at them before giving them an assignment about Romeo and Juliet just as the class ended. Like that hadn't been obvious from the way she prattled on about the playwright. She couldn't get out of that classroom fast enough. What did they think was the point of making them study this, really?
Minako was waiting near the cafeteria, looking bored, though one who didn't know her might think she was merely impassive. Her expression brightened as Catherine approached and she inclined her head.
"Waiting long?"
"No," Minako shook her head. "I was merely thinking on someone else's problem's."
"Taylor, you mean?" Catherine asked, glancing down the hall as she saw Professor Singer reaching up on a stool to tinker with a light fixture. Since when did the teachers do that? Wasn't that the maintenance man or janitor's job?
Minako nodded. "That girl worries me and what I have heard as rumor… worries me more."
"So?" Catherine shrugged. "She tries something and we kick her ass, problem solved."
"I do not think she will be so obvious as to try what she did yesterday again," Minako said carefully. "I find that Taylor truly needs friends and I would not care for her to be hurt further by her tormentor."
"Well, what do we do then?" Catherine grimaced, holding the door open so they could enter the cafeteria.
"I had a thought…" Minako began and as she continued, Catherine paid full attention, listening to her friend's ideas intently.
Sophia grinned to herself as she stretched for the physical education class. Hebert stood across on the other side of the gathering on the track. There were some sort of repairs going on in the gym, but she didn't know what exactly. Still, the phys-ed coach was also in charge of the track team and that gave her a lot more leeway than she got from other teachers. It had been child's play to get the coach to have them do laps and other track activities since the usual waste of time stuff was unavailable with the gym closed.
Stretching her legs one last time, she straightened, staring across the field toward the school building. Was that the new teacher, the Professor dumb-ass or whatever he insisted on being called? What was he doing outside right now? She frowned, then shook her head as he finished whatever he was doing and went back in. Not her problem.
At the signal, she took off, enjoying the feel of the wind whipping past her as she quickly outpaced everyone else. Even keeping herself to a slower pace, she left the rest in the dust. It was the only time, other than when she was out at night, that she felt comfortable. Nothing could touch her, nothing could catch her. She was free. Just her and the wind.
She opened her eyes after a moment. She knew the track without even having to look and she was already halfway around the track and the rest were just making it past the first curve. She would lap them before they had completed a full lap of their own. She pushed out a bit more speed, sending her close to the starting line before backing off a bit, letting the burn in her legs settle back down. She took a moment, scanning the line of runners until she spotted Hebert, who was leading the group.
Fancies herself a runner, does she? Sophia almost sneered and picked up the pace, intending to lap Hebert. At the rate she was going, Sophia was certain Hebert would outpace the others shortly, leaving them behind. Once they were far enough from the others, then she could make sure Hebert knew her place and it would look like a complete accident. She had had enough of them when she was first starting out that she was confident she could replicate one now.
Several more laps passed and she was almost grudgingly impressed by the time she passed the starting mark for the sixth time. A lot of them had fallen back or given up, but Hebert was still going, evenly pacing herself. Sophia knew Hebert hadn't crossed the start as many times as she had, but it was somewhat impressive.
Sophia came around the curve, bringing herself even with Taylor, who glanced in her direction briefly, but otherwise showed no reaction.
Now.
She deliberately veered into Hebert's lane, looking like she had just drifted off course. She shot a foot out and aimed for the other girl's own feet, intending to trip her and send her sprawling. Then she'd call for the coach and apologize profusely, claiming she drifted off course on autopilot.
Her foot fell short as Hebert veered away before contact would be made. Prepared to stumble, she missed a step and her feet tangled on each other. Before she could correct, she pitched forward, hearing a popping sound in the same moment she felt her knees scrape the pavement. A choked off sound reached her ears and it took a second to realize it was her voice as she curled in, reaching for her ankle.
"Coach!" Hebert was calling out. "Sophia needs help!"
"Don't worry," she heard Hebert telling her as she gritted her teeth. "The coach is on her way. You should pay a bit more attention I think. I know what it's like to get lost while enjoying running, but going on autopilot is never a good idea."
The bitch was mocking her. Sophia hissed, wanting to snap at Hebert, but the other girl was standing somewhere out of sight.
"What the hell happened?" the coach demanded. Sophia tried to say something but her ankle released a fresh wave of pain and she curled tighter in on herself.
"I think she got too focused," Hebert's voice rang out. "She drifted off course and nearly collided with me. I veered off, but I guess she came out of tunnel vision, missed a step and went down before she could correct."
The coach nodded and Sophia saw him kneeling down near her ankle, tentatively peeling her hand away from it. The hissed sound was all she needed to know.
"Damnit, Hess," he said. "This is going to have you out for weeks, at least."
"Should I get the nurse?" Hebert asked.
Coach Reslin nodded. "Tell her to bring a chair or something. Hess isn't going to be walking on this until we've gotten it looked at. Maybe not even then."
"I'll be right back!" Hebert said, sounding genuinely concerned before she ran off. A lie. Sophia ground her teeth together. The entire thing was an act. The bitch had set her up! Just like before, it was like she had seen it coming and moved in just the right way to cause her to crash and screw up her ankle.
Sophia sucked in air, trying to ignore the blinding pain. Like she had known it was coming. Weeks of this. No one could be that lucky. The bitch had to be a parahuman or have one doing something for her to swing the odds in her favor. Whatever else was going on at school, she knew what she was doing now. This was the last straw. Hebert had to go.
I waved goodbye to Catherine and Minako, heading toward the bus stop. Dad had another hour before he was off and I was going to be able to make it home before that. I ran a hand through my hair and winced at how sweaty it felt. I had run a lot more than I had intended to, but it had helped ease the constant sounds that I kept hearing. I was certain I knew what they were now, but I didn't want to think about that.
I needed a shower when I got home, and I needed it bad. A quick look ahead and I knew I would have time to do that before my dad got back. I sighed, glancing back toward the school for a moment. I'd only had a moment to decide what to do when Sophia tried to trip me. There had been a couple of possibilities and I had chosen that. I thought about it for a moment and finally shook my head. Sophia had chosen to try something and got what she deserved. One step less and I would have been the one with a wrecked ankle.
Choices. I thought about what Professor Singer had said today, about the choices we made and how the choices made by people with powers could have more impacts than those made by the people who didn't. I had chosen the option that made Sophia get hurt.
Was that the choice I wanted to make all the time? I bit my lip, thinking about it while taking my case of colored pencils out to start adding some color to the figure I had drawn earlier. Blacks and golds for this one would work best, I thought.
No. I didn't want to do that, to benefit from someone else's pain. Seeing her ankle twisted like that and how much pain she was in and realizing it was my fault. I didn't like it. Maybe she would if she had done that to me, but that was on her.
I wanted to be better than that. I would be better than that.
"This weekend," I murmured to myself, scribbling a note with a plain pencil in the corner of the page for myself. There were some things I needed to buy, but I think I would be able to start working on the costume I was coloring right now.
The bus arrived and absently flashed my I.D. to him, switching to a gold color and beginning to fill in the symbol on the chest. Wasn't there some sort of parahuman who worked with fabric operating somewhere near downtown? I might be able to buy some fabric off her… if I was careful. I didn't know if there were rules for just approaching a cape like that and the last thing I wanted was to offend a cape by accident because I didn't know something.
Something to look at once I was home and I could check Parahumans Online, I thought as I switched back to black to fill in some empty spaces. This outfit actually had a mask. I smiled a bit at that thought. After so many without masks, having one that did was nice. The way it covered my face would change its lines enough that if I wore it, it wouldn't immediately connect to me.
I stared at the outfit for a bit longer before closing the notebook and tucking it into my bag. Choices did help decide who we were going to be. After today, I think I knew what I- no, who I, wanted to be.
--
A Muffin to anyone who can accurately identify all four students in class.
Thursday.
I stared at my stomach in the mirror, eyeing the nasty looking bruise there with a frown. It still ached, but It wasn't slowing me down too much and I didn't think anything was broken or cracked. I still couldn't help but hiss a little as muscles protested the poking and prodding, before I let my shirt drop and stared blearily at the mirror. I had to squint at small things and I frowned, looking around for my glasses.
Oh, right. They were crushed to bits in the mall parking lot. I grimaced. I would have to go get some replacements. Oh well, I was due for a check-up anyway if my memory was right. Leaving the bathroom, I went for my room to get the rest of my things. My backpack had been torn enough that I didn't want to use it for school. Thankfully, I had an old messenger bag that was a bit worn, but still functional.
Going downstairs was only possible from having taken those stairs so many times. I waved absently at my dad, who was assembling his lunch.
"Do you need me to take you by the optometrist after school?" he asked, looking in my direction as I entered the kitchen.
"I haven't made an appointment yet," I said, grabbing and orange and starting to peel it. "Still kicking myself for putting them down."
"Don't do that," he murmured. "Blame whoever made off with them."
"I was thinking," I began while peeling away the last of the orange's skin, "that I might try contacts instead of glasses."
My dad looked up, tilting his head in that manner that I knew meant he was thinking about it. "That's not a bad idea. Make the appointment and we'll see what prices look like."
"That'd be nice," I said, peering at the clock while chucking the last piece of orange into my mouth. "I need to go catch the bus. I'll see you after school!"
"Have a good day, Taylor!" my dad called out as I left, blinking as the early morning sun made me wince slightly. A whole day without my glasses. I would be lucky if I didn't have a headache after first period.
I reached the stop for the bus and there were a few other people waiting. I nodded to them, then leaned against the plexiglass that made up the rain cover, checking my watch for when the bus would pass by.
The bus still had five minutes and I put my arm down, wincing as I heard something that almost felt like static. It was like sound, but not, a scratchy, uneven sensation, springing to life close to me. I twitched a bit and stepped away from the plexiglass, glancing toward the others standing around, but no one was holding anything that could have produced the sound that wasn't.
"Weird," I muttered to myself, earning a couple of odd looks from the people close enough to hear me apparently talking to myself.
The bus arrived and I found an empty seat quickly, closing my eyes so I could relax for a moment as I leaned against the glass. Even with the noise and vibration of the engine as it rolled through town, I almost missed my stop by nearly dozing off.
There weren't many students present yet, but the gang colors while fewer were still prominent enough that you couldn't miss them. Whatever their point had been for coming out so openly, I guessed they had accomplished it. I didn't normally go to the cafeteria for breakfast, but I was still strangely hungry so I made that my first destination since I had arrived earlier than I expected to.
Two sausage biscuits later and I felt a little better, but the sound I had heard before the bus arrived had come back, if fainter than it had been, pulses of sound that had me fighting the urge to turn around and look for the source.
I forced myself to ignore the sound, drinking the container of orange juice when it abruptly stopped and I heard something that almost made sense. I turned and saw Madison approaching. When our eyes met, she stopped and looked hesitant for a moment, then simply nodded before walking past without doing or saying anything to me.
"What… just happened?" I said aloud, frowning slightly. Usually, Madison was always ready with an insult or something petty like spitballs aimed at me. She never just nodded and went on. I scanned the cafeteria quickly, in case her out of the ordinary behavior was a distraction, but no one was approaching to play some prank on me.
I turned back toward where Madison was in line, still frowning. The sound returned for a moment and I could almost make sense of it. Madison's behavior had changed for some reason. But why? Was it something I had done?
I grabbed my trash and headed for the exit, thinking of last night. Those men had been afraid of me and it was something I had made happen. Was her nodding to me something I had done as well? I left the cafeteria as quickly as I could, wincing when the sound returned as I navigated down the hall. What was causing it?
I found an empty classroom and leaned against the wall, trying to clear my head, to think. Last night, I had done something to those muggers. Was this related? Cold certainty trickled down my neck as realization. It was. It had to be. I had some other powers aside from the precog and shield? I fished in my bag and took out a notebook, putting it on the desk with my back to the door so no one could see.
I hadn't thought about it last night, or this morning, but maybe… I stared at the notebook, holding my hand above it and focusing on the feeling from last night. The notebook shifted slightly, so little movement that I thought I might have imagined it when, unsteadily, uneven, it began to rise toward my hand.
An almost giddy laugh escaped as I stared at the notebook, feeling it move in response to my thoughts. There was no sense of weight, but there was… I didn't know how to describe it. A sense of pressure. What I was doing took some effort and I thought there was, for a moment, the faintest hints of blue surrounding the notebook.
I wanted to shout out loud in excitement. I had something tangible. Not just being able to see the future, but telekinesis. I could move things with my mind. I let a smile creep onto my face as I stared at the rotating notebook.
The door opened abruptly behind me and I gasped, my concentration lapsing. The notebook fell like a puppet with it's strings cut and I made a grab for it, but only succeeded in knocking it to the floor.
"You're in early," the teacher's aide said, obviously recognizing me even I couldn't put a name to her face. "Sorry if I startled you, just dropping some things off for the Professor." She deposited a folder on his desk and raised an eyebrow as I scrambled to pick up my notebook and smooth any pages out.
"It's ok," I said, barely able to calm my racing heart. Between her coming in and what I had figured out… "I was just surprised, is all." I tucked the notebook back into my bag before heading toward my seat. Professor Singer's class was my first one of the day and I should have paid more attention to which room I went in. I could have been moving things and had him walk in.
The man barely made a sound when he was moving around the room during class. There were rumors floating around that he had been some sort of military officer after the way he had cowed some of the gang members. I wasn't sure about that, but the few times I watched him out of the corner of my eye, it was like watching some great big predatory animal prowling around. A well-muscled, predatory animal that happened to resemble a man.
I flushed, shaking my head and got my sketchbook out to distract myself from stupid thoughts. I had other things to worry about, like the blank page in front of me. I tapped the pencil on the edge of the paper, biting my lip thoughtfully. The sketches I had made so far, none of them felt right. I needed something different. Something that was me now and not hideously impractical.
My eyes fell on my sleeve, the gold bands contrasting with the black prompting me to smile a bit. It really was a nice jacket and I needed to think of a way to repay Vicki and Dean. Well, mostly Dean. But I didn't have the slightest idea where to start, since he clearly had nearly everything he could want, if he thought nothing of spending that much money on someone he barely knew.
The pencil started moving across the paper as I watched people filter into the room slowly. The bursts of noise had returned and I felt a distinctly uncomfortable sensation in my stomach that told me I was likely going to have some other problems soon. I kept drawing though, letting the pen move freely to distract me from both the noise and other issues. Hopefully, I could get through today without feeling too bad.
~~~~~~~~
The class room was mostly full as Colin walked in, his briefcase and a satchel in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. He waved absently to the class and sat his belongings down, scanning the room quickly to determine that everyone was present. Seeing that everyone that was supposed to be there was in attendance, he crossed to the front of his desk and leaned against it.
"Today, I believe we're going to spend the class discussing instead of just giving you an assignment," he said, looking them over. "We've covered a great deal in the few weeks I've been here, but I want to go in a different direction today. Instead of discussing and parroting what we read in a book, I want your opinions."
When he saw he had their attention, even those students who were normally disruptive, he pushed away from the desk, pacing across the front of the room. "Put simply, I'm sure it's something we take for granted now, almost thirty years since the appearance of Scion. None of you are old enough to know a world where we didn't have parahumans. That is the world we live in, however, so I want to know your thoughts on that. How do you feel knowing that you live in a city where you could become a casualty of a fight between capes simply because they got out of control?"
"We have the Protectorate and the Wards! They wouldn't let something like that happen." one of the students in the back yelled. He let the faintest of smiles appear as he focused on the speaker.
"As much as I believe in the Protectorate and their younger counterparts, Eric," he said, "I'm aware of the fact that they cannot be everywhere all the time. For instance, last week, at Cornell University, a student obtained powers and used them to threaten and harm many of her classmates and instructors."
"The circumstances under which she obtained those abilities are, at present, being withheld from the public, but what I do know is she constructed several bombs that she threatened the university with, as well as inflicting injury and death on many there." he finished. "Without powers, would the damage she inflicted be anywhere near as severe?"
He scanned the room, looking at the students there, nodding as a blonde raised her hand. "Yes, Jerrica?"
The girl dropped her hand, tugging on one of her star shaped earrings in a nervous gesture. "Are you saying we shouldn't place our trust in them?"
"Of course he isn't," the first boy said, sneering. "Are you stupid?"
"That will do, Mr. Raymond," Colin said sharply. "There are better ways to express your disagreement with another. That will be detention this afternoon with me." He turned his attention back to the girl.
"What I am saying is I want all of you to consider the effect parahumans have had on our society. We all have choices to make as we go through life and consider this, no one's choices are less important than another's, but you choose to turn left at an intersection instead of right. How does that affect you and everyone around you? As much as I am loathe to consider anyone else's choices less important, there is a question of scale."
"What do you mean, Professor?" another blonde asked, looking at him. He eyed the girl and her blonde bob cut, searching his memory quickly for her name while considering how to answer.
"Well, Meg," he said, "Consider. You have two people. One is an ordinary person like you and I and the other has powers. We'll say the other has the power to build things. Perhaps they develop technology similar to that old show, The Six Million Dollar Man, and are able to safely implant it in a person."
"Bionics, you mean?" Meg asked, shifting in her seat slightly. The reference made her uncomfortable for some reason. Colin made a mental note to look into that later.
"Exactly," he replied. "Now, our bionics tinker takes a random person off the street and tests his or her work, making that random person many times stronger and faster than most anyone they encounter. Perhaps they have shoulder-mounted sonic weapons, or hidden wrist lasers."
"Unfortunately, our tinker hasn't done any sort of research into the person he is giving these abilities to," Colin went on. "The person he performs his work on decides that he is going to rob a bank, because he has power now. With his enhancements, he is stronger and faster than anyone he faces. Several people are hurt because the man has no regard for anyone's safety and believes himself invincible."
"So, we have two choices that have affected many people's lives," Colin said. "The tinker, for just deciding to pursue his research and change someone without thinking of any potential consequences, created a situation where another person chose to hurt many people solely for his own benefit." He paused, looking over the room and saw he had everyone's attention, even, apparently, Taylor Hebert's, though her pencil was still moving across the notepad she had on her desk. Drawing again, he assumed, frowning internally as she wasn't giving any apparent regard for what was on the paper.
"Meanwhile, we have our person who has no powers," he continued. "He has a wife who is very ill and needs medical treatment. Their insurance won't provide for it, claiming it as a pre-existing condition and outside their coverage. The company he works for is suffering a decline due to heavy competition and he has no one he can call on to help him. Desperate, he elects to rob a bank as well because he needs the money to help his wife."
"But won't that just get him into trouble?" another student asked, a broad-shouldered member of Winslow's football team. "He'll be a criminal."
"You'll find, Jonathan," he told the young man, "that people in desperate circumstances are willing to do a lot that they wouldn't normally consider. In this case, he is willing to do this because he doesn't see any other options. Even so, he plans everything out meticulously, trying to account for every possibility.
"Why does he do that?" was the reply. "To avoid hurting anyone?"
"An excellent hypothesis, Mr. Quick," he said, leaning to one side of his desk and making a note on one of his notepads. "One that is more or less correct, as well. Our beleaguered family man is an engineer by trade and accustomed to thinking of unorthodox solutions. He can't account for every possibility, admittedly, as that would be largely impossible, but he is thorough enough that his preparations allow him to perform the robbery without hurting anyone."
"He thinks he didn't hurt anyone," a brown haired, lanky teen said from the back row, looking bored. "But what about the money he stole? The people who were terrorized while he was robbing the bank?"
"Well, by his view, no one was hurt, Kevin. You see, he was considering only physical hurt. Anyone that was healthy when he entered was still healthy when he left. Abstracts weren't entering into his mind at all when he decided to do this." Colin explained. "Which brings me to the point, at last. Choice. Our choices define who we are, as I said. However, as much as I am loathe to consider one person's choices greater than any other's, a parahuman's choices do tend to have significantly more impact than those of someone who isn't."
He paced across the front of the room. "So, that's what I want you to all discuss today. Choices made by parahumans and how they affect the world around them. I don't have any particular expectations as to how you pair up as long as you do, but I do expect each of you to converse on the topic with as many of your classmates as possible, so no forming a group and ignoring the rest of the room for the period."
Colin pulled out his chair and settled down at his desk. "If you have any questions, feel free to approach me, otherwise, you have your assignment for the period." He opened his laptop and began going over some of his work as the classroom erupted into conversation.
~~~~~~~~
Catherine winced slightly as she sat in the uncomfortable desk, listening to the teacher drone on about something utterly meaningless. That they spent so much time trying to attach meaning to Shakespeare made her want to cry. It was just Shakespeare. He didn't write anything to attach some grand meaning to his plays. They were the equivalent of television at the time.
She turned her head to look out the window, cradling her chin in her palm. A vibration against her leg drew her attention and she glanced toward the teacher, who was busy reading something aloud while peering at the pages of the book she held. The woman's nose was so far into the book that Catherine doubted she could see anything else.
Shaking her head, she slipped her phone from her pocket and flipped it open, holding it out of sight and reading the message before sending a quick reply to Minako. Closing it, she looked at her fingers and grimaced. The phone went back in her pocket and she fished out a cuticle pusher and some wipes, cleaning away the black smudges beneath her nails and wiping her fingers clean.
The wipes were stealthily tucked away in a plastic baggie sticking out the top of her backpack for throwing away later. The teacher finally withdrew from her book and scanned the room, looking sternly at them before giving them an assignment about Romeo and Juliet just as the class ended. Like that hadn't been obvious from the way she prattled on about the playwright. She couldn't get out of that classroom fast enough. What did they think was the point of making them study this, really?
Minako was waiting near the cafeteria, looking bored, though one who didn't know her might think she was merely impassive. Her expression brightened as Catherine approached and she inclined her head.
"Waiting long?"
"No," Minako shook her head. "I was merely thinking on someone else's problem's."
"Taylor, you mean?" Catherine asked, glancing down the hall as she saw Professor Singer reaching up on a stool to tinker with a light fixture. Since when did the teachers do that? Wasn't that the maintenance man or janitor's job?
Minako nodded. "That girl worries me and what I have heard as rumor… worries me more."
"So?" Catherine shrugged. "She tries something and we kick her ass, problem solved."
"I do not think she will be so obvious as to try what she did yesterday again," Minako said carefully. "I find that Taylor truly needs friends and I would not care for her to be hurt further by her tormentor."
"Well, what do we do then?" Catherine grimaced, holding the door open so they could enter the cafeteria.
"I had a thought…" Minako began and as she continued, Catherine paid full attention, listening to her friend's ideas intently.
~~~~~~~~
Sophia grinned to herself as she stretched for the physical education class. Hebert stood across on the other side of the gathering on the track. There were some sort of repairs going on in the gym, but she didn't know what exactly. Still, the phys-ed coach was also in charge of the track team and that gave her a lot more leeway than she got from other teachers. It had been child's play to get the coach to have them do laps and other track activities since the usual waste of time stuff was unavailable with the gym closed.
Stretching her legs one last time, she straightened, staring across the field toward the school building. Was that the new teacher, the Professor dumb-ass or whatever he insisted on being called? What was he doing outside right now? She frowned, then shook her head as he finished whatever he was doing and went back in. Not her problem.
At the signal, she took off, enjoying the feel of the wind whipping past her as she quickly outpaced everyone else. Even keeping herself to a slower pace, she left the rest in the dust. It was the only time, other than when she was out at night, that she felt comfortable. Nothing could touch her, nothing could catch her. She was free. Just her and the wind.
She opened her eyes after a moment. She knew the track without even having to look and she was already halfway around the track and the rest were just making it past the first curve. She would lap them before they had completed a full lap of their own. She pushed out a bit more speed, sending her close to the starting line before backing off a bit, letting the burn in her legs settle back down. She took a moment, scanning the line of runners until she spotted Hebert, who was leading the group.
Fancies herself a runner, does she? Sophia almost sneered and picked up the pace, intending to lap Hebert. At the rate she was going, Sophia was certain Hebert would outpace the others shortly, leaving them behind. Once they were far enough from the others, then she could make sure Hebert knew her place and it would look like a complete accident. She had had enough of them when she was first starting out that she was confident she could replicate one now.
Several more laps passed and she was almost grudgingly impressed by the time she passed the starting mark for the sixth time. A lot of them had fallen back or given up, but Hebert was still going, evenly pacing herself. Sophia knew Hebert hadn't crossed the start as many times as she had, but it was somewhat impressive.
Sophia came around the curve, bringing herself even with Taylor, who glanced in her direction briefly, but otherwise showed no reaction.
Now.
She deliberately veered into Hebert's lane, looking like she had just drifted off course. She shot a foot out and aimed for the other girl's own feet, intending to trip her and send her sprawling. Then she'd call for the coach and apologize profusely, claiming she drifted off course on autopilot.
Her foot fell short as Hebert veered away before contact would be made. Prepared to stumble, she missed a step and her feet tangled on each other. Before she could correct, she pitched forward, hearing a popping sound in the same moment she felt her knees scrape the pavement. A choked off sound reached her ears and it took a second to realize it was her voice as she curled in, reaching for her ankle.
"Coach!" Hebert was calling out. "Sophia needs help!"
"Don't worry," she heard Hebert telling her as she gritted her teeth. "The coach is on her way. You should pay a bit more attention I think. I know what it's like to get lost while enjoying running, but going on autopilot is never a good idea."
The bitch was mocking her. Sophia hissed, wanting to snap at Hebert, but the other girl was standing somewhere out of sight.
"What the hell happened?" the coach demanded. Sophia tried to say something but her ankle released a fresh wave of pain and she curled tighter in on herself.
"I think she got too focused," Hebert's voice rang out. "She drifted off course and nearly collided with me. I veered off, but I guess she came out of tunnel vision, missed a step and went down before she could correct."
The coach nodded and Sophia saw him kneeling down near her ankle, tentatively peeling her hand away from it. The hissed sound was all she needed to know.
"Damnit, Hess," he said. "This is going to have you out for weeks, at least."
"Should I get the nurse?" Hebert asked.
Coach Reslin nodded. "Tell her to bring a chair or something. Hess isn't going to be walking on this until we've gotten it looked at. Maybe not even then."
"I'll be right back!" Hebert said, sounding genuinely concerned before she ran off. A lie. Sophia ground her teeth together. The entire thing was an act. The bitch had set her up! Just like before, it was like she had seen it coming and moved in just the right way to cause her to crash and screw up her ankle.
Sophia sucked in air, trying to ignore the blinding pain. Like she had known it was coming. Weeks of this. No one could be that lucky. The bitch had to be a parahuman or have one doing something for her to swing the odds in her favor. Whatever else was going on at school, she knew what she was doing now. This was the last straw. Hebert had to go.
~~~~~~~~
I waved goodbye to Catherine and Minako, heading toward the bus stop. Dad had another hour before he was off and I was going to be able to make it home before that. I ran a hand through my hair and winced at how sweaty it felt. I had run a lot more than I had intended to, but it had helped ease the constant sounds that I kept hearing. I was certain I knew what they were now, but I didn't want to think about that.
I needed a shower when I got home, and I needed it bad. A quick look ahead and I knew I would have time to do that before my dad got back. I sighed, glancing back toward the school for a moment. I'd only had a moment to decide what to do when Sophia tried to trip me. There had been a couple of possibilities and I had chosen that. I thought about it for a moment and finally shook my head. Sophia had chosen to try something and got what she deserved. One step less and I would have been the one with a wrecked ankle.
Choices. I thought about what Professor Singer had said today, about the choices we made and how the choices made by people with powers could have more impacts than those made by the people who didn't. I had chosen the option that made Sophia get hurt.
Was that the choice I wanted to make all the time? I bit my lip, thinking about it while taking my case of colored pencils out to start adding some color to the figure I had drawn earlier. Blacks and golds for this one would work best, I thought.
No. I didn't want to do that, to benefit from someone else's pain. Seeing her ankle twisted like that and how much pain she was in and realizing it was my fault. I didn't like it. Maybe she would if she had done that to me, but that was on her.
I wanted to be better than that. I would be better than that.
"This weekend," I murmured to myself, scribbling a note with a plain pencil in the corner of the page for myself. There were some things I needed to buy, but I think I would be able to start working on the costume I was coloring right now.
The bus arrived and absently flashed my I.D. to him, switching to a gold color and beginning to fill in the symbol on the chest. Wasn't there some sort of parahuman who worked with fabric operating somewhere near downtown? I might be able to buy some fabric off her… if I was careful. I didn't know if there were rules for just approaching a cape like that and the last thing I wanted was to offend a cape by accident because I didn't know something.
Something to look at once I was home and I could check Parahumans Online, I thought as I switched back to black to fill in some empty spaces. This outfit actually had a mask. I smiled a bit at that thought. After so many without masks, having one that did was nice. The way it covered my face would change its lines enough that if I wore it, it wouldn't immediately connect to me.
I stared at the outfit for a bit longer before closing the notebook and tucking it into my bag. Choices did help decide who we were going to be. After today, I think I knew what I- no, who I, wanted to be.
--
A Muffin to anyone who can accurately identify all four students in class.
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Hmm. It will be interesting to see what those two are planning.
You're right, Sophia. A pity that you're choosing this action though.
Nice chapter @chibipoe .
