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Goddamn Teenagers (Worm, AU/time travel)

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Reasons to Fight, Part 2
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    • "I was told in no uncertain terms that the PRT is a domestic law enforcement agency, and that State would be managing relations with the sovereign nation led by The Fairy Queen!"

    "Rebecca, why—" Keith tried to reply.

    "Worse, Alexandria is being subpoenaed to testify about her participation in experimental power research! Subpoenaed! Me! Her! The Triumvirate! Like a lackey!"

    "My life, my fortune, my sacred honor," David said gravely.

    "What?" Rebecca said, knocked off her rent by the non sequitur.

    "The oath I was desperate to swear," David explained. "I don't see why you are upset. We all agreed. We didn't do this for the power, or the fame. We did it to save the worlds and that's done. I didn't expect to survive, but now that I have, I am ready to face the consequences of my actions."

    "But the job's not done!" Rebecca replied hotly. "Even she says so! And don't tell me you trust those clowns to do what needs to be done!"

    "Rebecca," Keith said soothingly. "You are one of the strongest parahumans on the planet, and one of if not the best tactical commander. However, we have been made painfully aware of the dangers of over-relying on powers for strategic planning. Surely, you can see—"

    "How much longer do you think they'll go on?" Fortuna whispered to Kurt, who had given up all pretense of not doing other work on his laptop.

    Kurt shrugged. "Until an emergency pulls one of them away, or it's time for Keith to meet his family for dinner."

    Leaning back, Fortuna carefully slipped the rim of her hat over her eyes. Feeling a small weight land on her lap, she reached out a hand and began lightly stoking the suddenly present kitten. She was rewarded with purring.
    Note:
    R: They're treating me like just some grunt!
    D: That sounds amazing! Sign me up!
     
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    • FaerieKnight79 said:
    Is Costa-Brown angry because she's being held accountable, or because she's not being held accountable as a ringleader?!
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    Multiple factors are at play.

    First, RCB is psychologically a shard-based emulation of a teenage mind. The shards model of human psychology has problems at the best of times (when you think on it the pre cog and prediction algorithms they use are shown to be mind-boggling in their operational requirements). Also, teenager. See fic title.

    Second, RCB has learned through long, painful experience that only herself and the core Cauldron members can be relied upon. Cauldron has in the past gotten burned by people they tried to bring in to help.

    Third, RCB has been in control for so long, and has spent so much time surrounded by idiots, that she is leery of trusting others generally absent an OK from Contessa or similar.

    Fourth, RCB does want to do the right thing and protect the worlds. There are still threats out there! She's sacrificed so much to get the worlds this far, and if she relinquishes control then someone else might mess it all up.
     
    Congratulations. You just made me acutely symapthetic to Rebecca Costa-Brown. I honestly didn't know that was possible.

    As for why? She's terrified of it all falling apart, so much so that she doesn't know how to handle it all when things are actually working out for once.
     
    School Daze
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    • "Dickering about Gondor's domestic policy rather misses the point of the story, don't you think?" Taylor replied, acerbically. "Tolkien clearly wasn't looking to do a study of economics or governance, and such details would have bogged the story down. His focus clearly was more on linguistics, culture, and myth. It's rather like complaining that Star Wars lacks rigorous scientific grounding."

    "But it's all interconnected!" Vicky replied, excitedly. "Economic factors influence and shape culture!"

    "Do you have any idea what they're talking about," Carlos asked Chris quietly, "beyond nerd stuff?"

    Chris looked aghast. "How have you not read—"

    "If that's what you are looking for," Taylor continued, ignoring the boys, "then maybe try some of his other works? They're basically on a sliding scale, with The Hobbit being the most accessible and least—"

    Taylor abruptly ducked as a glob of vegetable matter soared through the space where her head had been to hit Vicky in the chin.

    Victoria sputtered in outrage as she floated above the table to glare at the table of food-spattered underclassmen one table over.

    "Vicky," Amy said wearily, "aura."

    "Aura, nothing, they got goop on my new blouse! It was a gift!"

    "Uh," one of the underclassmen offered, "it's actually spinach?"

    "THAT'S NOT THE POINT!!!"
    Note:

    Dennis to Weld: We should be doing more PRT recruiting at Winslow. This one girl from there, it's like some Sardaukar shit.
     
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    • Domestic Matters, Part 6
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    • "Hi, uh, Grue, was it?" Brian looked up from his lunch to see a nervous, unkempt young woman in civvies and a domino mask.

    Brian, gestured at the seat across from him. He noticed she was wearing a little monitor like the one Victoria wore.

    "I'm, uh, Cherish." The young woman said. She leaned in conspiratorially. "I heard you knew Je—ah, Alec?"

    Brian nodded slowly.

    "I'm, I'm trying. I want to be a good sister? But growing up was awful and I don't really know how? I was hoping you might have some advice?"

    Seeing his expression, she continued quickly. "I talked to the therapist lady but she was all about honesty and empathy and 'I statements' but I don't really know how to do any of that…"

    Later

    "Hey, Aisha?"

    "'Sup," Brian's sister said distractedly while doing some sort of math thing on her computer.

    "I, uh…"

    Aisha paused the game and looked at him. "Huh?"

    Brian hugged her. "I want you to know, you are amazing and wonderful and a great sister and I love you very much…"
    Note: Cherish doesn't want to get exploded! She can tell that Jean-Paul's team Scary Godmother is the winning team, and as long as she's a good sister Cherish can also get (and stay) on the team!
     
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    • School Daze, Part 2
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    • Lisa opened the door to reveal a grinning Aisha, with binder.

    "Hey-o!" Aisha said. "Have your thing back."

    "Thanks," Lisa said absentmindedly. "Come in, I'll grab the next one. Why the interest in disaster response, anyway?"

    "It's interesting? I read it when I need a break from school stuff." Aisha paused, before continuing, "what's that you're listening to?"

    "Hmm?" Lisa asked as she fished a binder out from a pile. "Oh, it's a history thing? Power hears what I hear, and he seemed interested in it. I'm trying different sorts of audiobooks with him."

    Elsewhere

    "And done!" Missy said triumphantly. "I'm gonna drop this off and go to the gym."

    "God," Dennis replied. "Lucky you, I'm still slogging through it. Who knew Piggot could make a food fight boring?"

    Missy shrugged. "I found it useful? Gave me ideas on possible power interactions. I'll discuss them with Armsmaster later when I show him my latest fork."

    "Missy, I love you, but sometimes you scare me," Dennis snarked.

    She threw a piece of popcorn at him.
    Note:
    L: Wait… Am I training Power or is Power training me?
     
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    • Transreal Cloud said:
    For the first like half of this I was convinced this was a sequel to some other fix called uptime. Is there a reason you call it that?
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    Random832 said:
    uptime is a pretty standard term for people from the future in stories that involve people or places from two different points in time coming into contact with each other
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    This was how I have seen it used before. I think I saw it first in the 1632 series, but pretty sure I've since seen it elsewhere.
     
    The Gears of Bureaucracy, Part 3
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    • Dropping another item into his out tray, Glenn sighed. The only saving grace in the whole mess was that Valkyrie's people were willing to cooperate.

    Glenn picked up his next item of mail. Opening it, he skimmed it quickly. Something something… formal notice… independently negotiated marketing arrangement?

    Flipping back to the front, he saw it was in relation to some Ward he had never heard of. Which was extremely odd, since whoever it was clearly had a non-standard branding arrangement. He sent a quick email off asking that someone pull for him the contracts for whoever had taken the unlikely name "Lilac".

    Elsewhere

    "Give it to me straight, James," the retired general said. Always an adroit politician, he had deftly navigated the transition to the world of parahumans, and while his official title changed from time to time, he was always a person who was listened to in certain circles. "The Fairy Queen. Valkyrie. Whatever she is calling herself. How dangerous is she?"

    "Peer of Eidolon or worse, but that's not how you manage her. The evil emperor, as it were, is dead, and the survivors really aren't sure what to do now, beyond wanting to preserve their new-found autonomy. They seem quite happy to look to us for advice, advisors, guidance."

    The other man nodded thoughtfully. "Nation-building. We can work with that. And it's got her off-world, thank god."
    Note:

    Just poor unsuspecting rubes, with no experience in self-government, in need of guidance from their betters.

    And besides, there is a certain type of US politician who doesn't really care what "foreigners" do so long as they do it over there.
     
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    • Connections, Part 3
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    • "Hey mom, can I use one of your work conference rooms?" Amy's sister asked Carol after dinner.

    "Victoria, why—"

    Amy rolled her eyes and went into the kitchen. Chekov "mreeped" at her cheerfully from his preferred spot on top of the fridge, as Amy went to help her dad with the dishes.

    "COME ON!" Victoria's voice sounded from the other room. "SHE JUST WANTS TO MAKE DRESSES AND MIND HER BUSINESS AND NOT BE MURDERED BY GANGS, WHAT'S SO BAD ABOUT THAT!"

    "… and there we go," Amy muttered.

    "Something I should worry about?" Mark asked absently.

    "Probably one of her projects," Amy said with a shrug. "Maybe give them a few minutes then if they're still at it de-escalate?"

    Elsewhere

    "Dragon," Armsmaster asked, concerned. "I appreciate that the portals are from a friendly group. But do you know why so many more are appearing recently? Initially, I thought I might simply be detecting more, but when I re-analyzed historic data there does appear to be an uptick."

    "I'm not aware of any reason?" Dragon replied. "Not that I've been tracking them."

    "I'll send you the dataset."

    Note:
    Colin has been busy.
    Mark is doing better!
     
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    • Fred13 said:
    I don't know. There's a pretty strong argument that both the US and other countries would be much better off if more politicians took that approach.
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    On the one hand, there are absolutely examples where one country getting involved with another's matters turned out very, very badly.

    On the other, the "...as long as they do it over there" was a direct reason for the US dragging its heels about getting involved in two World Wars, so... as with just about everything in politics, it's far from simple.
     
    Work it Out, Part 2
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    • "Yo, Taylor!" Aisha asked, conspiratorially.

    "Yeah?" Taylor replied, continuing with her set.

    "My smart, clever, tall friend!"

    "Mmm."

    "So I was thinking, we're learning about domestic stuff and self-defense and whatever, and why not practice!"

    "I said before, I won't 'no rules spar' with you."

    "No, no, I was thinking more, uh, resourcefulness! And situational awareness!"

    "Uh-huh."

    "So, see, I was reading some stuff, and I found out that places like this sometimes have drop ceilings, which are like caves but in the ceiling. And, I think the locker room is one of those places…"

    "I'm not lifting you into the ceiling and besides, couldn't you just get on top of the lockers?"

    "Oh, no, nothing like that, no need to get worried or go talking to anyone, I was just, ah, being observant! Have fun exercising!"

    Later

    "Taylor?" Brian asked, fitly being very fit.

    "Yeah?" Taylor replied, carefully not moving her head even as she enjoyed the view from a different vantage point.

    "Do you know where Aisha is? I can't find her anywhere but her phone is still here so she should be somewhere…"

    A loud clang echoed from the locker room.

    Brian sighed. "Never mind."
    Note: Taylor. Taylor. You are, say, 90% of the way to being able to speak Aisha. But that last little bit is crucial
     
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    • Work it Out, Part 3
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    • "Now, what did we learn?" Taylor asked, as she opened an antiseptic wipe.

    "The stupid drop ceiling is a fucking lie," Aisha grumbled. She then grimaced, as Taylor applied the antiseptic to the cuts on Aisha's hands.

    "What did you say before?" Taylor asked, as she retrieved bandaids. "About observation and such?"

    Aisha rolled her eyes. "The same thing that makes it easy to get into a drop ceiling means most bits can't take my weight, even though I'm smol."

    "And?" Taylor said, opening another antiseptic wipe.

    "It's dark up there." Aisha winced again at the antiseptic.

    "And?" Taylor said, cleaning the scrapes on Aisha's shins and knees.

    Aisha grimaced again. "Fucking wear gloves and pants and shit, and be thankful where I fell I didn't hit something nasty."

    Taylor turned back to the bandaids. "And?"

    Aisha shrugged.

    "    Tell someone where you're going, you didn't even have your phone. Why aren't you writing all this down while it's fresh?"

    "Don't have my phone," Aisha grumbled in a surly tone.

    Taylor went to her locker, retrieved a piece of paper and pen from her bag, and handed them both to Aisha.

    Aisha dutifully began taking notes. "Bro would just be like holding my hand, not doing all this teaching shit," Aisha grumbled.

    "I'm sure he'll be doing that later, quite diligently. So it falls on me to make sure you     learn your lesson properly."

    Aisha snorted. "Why you no fight fair."
    Note: Last chapter was supposed to be a one-off, then the phrase "the drop ceiling is a lie" happened, and here we are.
     
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    • Really, if you decide to crawl around up there... a drop ceiling is aptly named because it will drop you. That said, it's also a pain in the ass to get up into said drop ceilings without a ladder. I once had to crawl through the ceiling to get into the management office where I worked because the shift manager accidentally locked the keys inside the office, and I was the smallest employee (weight wise, not height wise). On the up side I got a 50% off Management discount on my next meal, up to $15 after discount instead of $5 before discount.
     
    Work it Out, Part 4
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    • Aisha shuffled out of the locker room. Other than a few bandaids, she didn't look any worse for the wear. After a nudge from Taylor, Aisha sighed, then turned to Brian.

    "I'm sorry for worrying you." Aisha said, shuffling awkwardly in place. "I shouldn't have gone off without telling someone, and I should have been more careful. I caused you to worry and that was uncool to do."

    Brian hugged Aisha close. "I just worry so much about you sometimes," he said, "and get scared."

    Aisha sniffed. "Can't you just yell at me or something, now you're making me sad."

    Brian chuckled, weakly.

    "Now," Taylor said primly, "I think there's someone else you need to apologize to as well."

    Extricating herself, Aisha sighed. "Yeah, yeah," she said, looking around. "You seen Dad? I need to say sorry for breaking his ceiling and making a mess and ask what I can do to help fix it and shit." Aisha wandered off toward the office.

    "Thanks," Brian said, turning to Taylor. "You handled that really well."

    Taylor shrugged. "She's a friend, happy to help. Hopefully she at least makes different mistakes next time."

    Brian chuckled. "Yeah, you do know her well then."
    Note:
    T: How would you feel if Brian did something without thinking and got hurt
    A: I will cut a bitch
    T: Now how do you think he feels when you get hurt.
    A: Really don't fight fair
     
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    • Old Bones
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    • Previously

    "How did the boss even know about this stuff," the mercenary asked his partner as they picked their way through the abandoned storage unit. "It looks like no one's been here in ten years."

    "Think it's the old guy who has been around recently," said the second. Shifting aside a box of explosives, he uncovered a filing cabinet. "Jackpot."

    Later

    "Been a long time since I've played prosecutor," remarked Calle as he flipped through the faded files.

    The older, masked man said nothing.

    "Most of this is stale," Calle commented, "but likely still of interest. But the business records…" Calle looked up. "This is dynamite. The Feds will be very interested, indeed, especially with the conspiracy to conceal. You sure you don't want to seek a reward? There's a few programs this could qualify for…"

    The masked man smiled harshly. "Just doing my civic duty."

    Elsewhere

    "Yes, that's my girl," said the veteran, decisively. He looked tired, worn, aged beyond his years, but there was a spark of defiance in his eyes. "I'd recognize her anywhere."

    "The picture was taken last week in Stuttgart," said the weedy man in a suit. They were meeting in the back room of the veteran's hardware store, after hours. "The building is a front for Gesellschaft."

    Another folder was put in front of the veteran. "And this is the Interpol file for a man named James Fliescher…"
    Note: oh, no, we don't even know Krieg's identity, pinky swear. No, we were going after suspected human trafficker and terrorist James Fliescher. Really, we thought we would find he was secretly working for those nasty Asians, how were we to know he was besmirching the Empire's good name!
     
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