The Downsides of Good Help
Taylor looked at Tagg and Armstrong. "We've covered off the agenda, gentlemen, was there anything else you want to cover before we break?"

Kamil leaned forward, "We want in."

"I'm sorry?"

"Whatever group you are working with to address the 'existential' threats."

Taylor sighed. "Rebecca will be insufferable about this. Honestly, the truth is far less satisfying than whatever you have imagined. There are various conspiracies across the worlds that try to help, but even the best are horribly under-equipped and under-manned. It's less a secret coalition saving the worlds and more a bunch of terrified children throwing things at the wall in the hope something sticks.

"It of course does not help that efforts to build a better organization inevitably draw unwanted attention from Endbringers or other more subtle threats. More of the same sort of thing that made Jack Slash particularly effective against parahumans. After all, it's not an accident that parahuman analysts so stubbornly failed to realize that powers might passively leak data or provide heightened vulnerability to certain threats.

Taylor paused a moment, before continuing "To be fair to Rebecca and the others, my perspective is colored by the mass casualties in my world line. I suppose the fact that any of us survived is a testament to their efforts, but it's hard to feel that way when after-the-fact we learned so much that could have gone so far to achieve a better outcome. Rebecca is still upset about it all, it was quite a blow for her to realize how badly both her organization and the PRT had been hampered by compounding subtle misunderstandings and blind spots.

"We'll have to schedule a separate session to give you a proper in-brief."


Note: You will note that Rebecca is not in these meetings. That is not an accident. Just be glad that both Taylor and Rebecca are Mature and Professional and would never let petty grudges interfere with important work nope nope nope.
 
Cauldron, Eidolon, etc.
There is this recurring <em>thing</em> that Wildbow does where at key moments fundamentally unreliable speakers will say damning things and the fandom (and characters in world) just take them as gospel. Echidna clones have a variation on the original's powers. It would not be difficult to argue that a malevolent social or thinker power was used to come up with a lie that sounded horrifying even if not true. Even if you had multiple Echidna clones all agreeing with each other, they are all fundamentally untrustworthy and there is enough power fuckery that a reasonable explanation could have been found. Similarly, Scion while trying to kill Eidolen announces that the Endbringers are all actually Eidolen's fault, and David believes him. So do the readers.

Fandom has since explored various alternate less terrible takes on Cauldron, and there is a non-trivial number of fics that adopt the view that Cauldron's dumber shit was in some fashion driven by powers that were misused, misunderstood, or simply stirring the pot.

For what it's worth, the approach I'm taking here is that the Eidolen Endbringer thing is more nuanced (as has already been discussed), and Cauldron was stupid and desperate and well-intentioned but Fortuna is deeply fucked in the head, Doctor Mother is way out of her depth, every time they tried to recruit actual experts Ziz happened (or something equally horrifying, see Manton) and Alexandria is running on a shard VM and her engram is stuck on "teenager". Oh, and David's entire neural landscape is deeply fucked by all those boosters and he's probably reliant on subconscious power support or shard fuckery to maintain a facade of basic functionality.
 
Taylor’s Take Tagg, RCB, and Coil
This Taylor views Tagg much like she views Coil or Alexandria. She doesn't like them, but they are each a very particular sort of tool that is undeniably useful. But annoying. So very annoying.

Coil, she views basically as dog shit that might be useful in some circumstances but if he ever stops being extremelyuseful he likes suffers a sudden case of slug/dead.

Alexandria is fucking annoying and so full of herself and yes she is useful but there is something fundamentally broken about her brain. But at least her heart's in the right place and her entire live is dedicated to public service to the point she might as well be doing public service in lieu of incarceration. So she gets to live and maybe even retire someday. But goddamn is she annoying. (Incidentally, Alexandria has basically the same view of Taylor).

Tagg is a deeply fucked up disaster of a human being but if you need someone to machine gun innocent children who happen to be Ziz bombs, he's your man. Sadly, that is a thing you need sometimes. And they are going to have to deal with the Fallen, and the Herren Clan, and the Gesselscheft reeducation camps, and countless other atrocities, and goddamn he would have been really useful on multiple occasions post-GM. So if someone has to deal with that shit, might as well be him.
 
Tagg is a deeply fucked up disaster of a human being but if you need someone to machine gun innocent children who happen to be Ziz bombs, he's your man. Sadly, that is a thing you need sometimes. And they are going to have to deal with the Fallen, and the Herren Clan, and the Gesselscheft reeducation camps, and countless other atrocities, and goddamn he would have been really useful on multiple occasions post-GM. So if someone has to deal with that shit, might as well be him.

Axiom: If you HAVE to send someone into a situation that is guaranteed to produce PTSD, best to do it to as few people as possible, to prevent the trauma from spreading too wide. And Tagg seems unusually well-adapted to dealing with PTSD, so might as well use the right tool for the job, until the jobs no longer need doing.
 
And Tagg seems unusually well-adapted to dealing with PTSD, so might as well use the right tool for the job, until the jobs no longer need doing.
And that, horrifyingly, makes him potentially perfect person to be working with any parahuman, since ALL of them have PTSD by definition (well, maybe not those who took vials, but that's doubtful)...

On an unrelated note, nice to see this work here. Was following it on AO3 for a while, but notifications here are way more useful. Keep going, that's a truly charming feast for mind.
 
Lisa Hits the Big Leagues
"Congratulations," Dr. Weaver said grimly. "You've been noticed."

"Noticed?" Lisa asked.

"By Accord."

"Oh." That was… wow.

Dr. Weaver shrugged. "Might have been one of Coil's men, might have been the PRT, there's just too many potential leaks. Whoever talked knew your actual capabilities, not the watered down nothing that went in the file."

Lisa's heart raced. She hadn't realized how accustomed she had become to the feeling of safety was until it went away again.

"It could be much, much worse." Dr. Weaver continued. "He has made it known that so long as you do not focus on his operations, he will run interference should less reasonable villains take notice of you."

It was made known to her. She had a face-to-face conversation with him. They have a good working relationship.

Lisa's heart skipped a beat. She tried to suppress the flinch. "Wait, what?" What the how the fuck?

Dr. Weaver shrugged. "Consider the alternatives. He at least can, if properly approached, be reasoned with." She paused, and made a note. "Which reminds me, I really should get Uppercrust taken care of, the work he's done for us is getting increasingly unreliable and he's not at present able to travel for maintenance."

Lisa put her head on the table. "Can't I go back to pretending it's just cops and robbers?"

Note: You hit the big time Lisa! You are being taken seriously! Isn't that wonderful! Why aren't you more happy!
 
The Armsmaster Laundering Service
Within seconds of the emergency tone, and before coming fully awake, Colin had rolled out of bed and answered the comm unit.

"Armsmaster."

"This is Legend."

"Sir."

"You, Dragon and others have been working on a prediction algorithm for Leviathan."

"Yes, sir."

"Run it now."

"Sir? It is still in development, and due to resource constraints—"

"Armsmaster," Legend interrupted. "Run it now."

"Yes, sir. It will take a few minutes to—"

"I'll wait." Legend muted his end of the line.

A few minutes later

"Legend?"

"Here."

"It is showing a probability of a near term attack, most likely in the area of the Red Sea, but—"

"The algorithm. Is its prediction accuracy better or worse than coin-flip odds?"

"Better, but—"

"Armsmaster. Hypothetically, what would you do if you had intelligence from a source whose existence and limitations you absolutely could not divulge?"

"Confirm and launder as best I can through other means?"

High above, the Endbringer sirens began to wail.


Notes: As for what is getting laundered here, I am deliberately non-specific, but it likely includes without limitation some vibes from David's subconscious, along with possibly a question or three from Dinah.

Note note:
One of the many, many tragedies embedded in Worm is that walking into the canon Levi fight? Armsmaster was critical in deploying an early warning system that substantially increased advanced notice of an Endbringer attack. That one accomplishment may well have saved more lives, done more good, than literally everything else Colin had ever done, combined. We also know, as readers, that even if he had killed Levi, another EB would have popped up. So that would have been pointless.

Colin had his big breakout success, done and dusted, and he then went and threw it away, pointlessly.

Wildbow, ladies and gentlemen. Say what you will about the man, but this is some Greek tragedy level shit right here.
 
Dressed To Fox
Lisa jumped at the pounding on her door. Bleary eyed, she peered through the peephole and was surprised to see Dr. Weaver.

"Hi?" She said, opening the door. She felt somehow both proud and embarrassed to be meeting the woman while wearing pajamas covered in little cartoon foxes.

"Shoes, coat and vest," the older woman said without preamble. She gestured to the TV and laptop behind Lisa. "I can't keep you away from the news, so you're coming with me to where your inevitable migraine will do some good."

A few minutes later

Lisa maintained her white-knuckled grip on the seat. "Holy fuck! Where did you learn to drive, a war zone?"

"No comment," the older woman replied, as she swerved to overtake an ambulance. She then returned to speeding down the center of the road, sirens blaring, right on the double line, going, oh, way too fast. "But this is good practice."

She is telling the truth.

Jesus. Lisa was torn between bracing herself, and staying loose to mitigate injury in a crash. She has substantial experience driving in emergency and combat situations. SUV has many added safety precautions, including tinkertech.

Who is this woman?


She is less likely to get in a crash in current conditions than Lisa Wilbourn driving on a clear sunny day.

Oh, fuck you too.

Note:

Taylor is not taking a door for many reasons, including (1) she does have time to drive, (2) it really is good practice, and it's rare these days that she actually gets to drive like this in a city, (3) she's not sure how Lisa will react to seeing her summon a door and doesn't want to deal with a power-driven speculative fit, and (4) Armsmaster will be on a hair trigger and she doesn't want to distract him with an alert if his recently improved equipment detects the door.
 
Misdirection!
Amy was in her room, in her bed, trying to block out the sound of the sirens with her pillow, while reminding herself again and again what Dr. Weaver said about her not feeling guilt for not going.

She was indeed, so very focused that she nearly jumped out of her skin when her sister started shaking her.

"Go 'way!" Amy grumped.

"Nope we need to go!"

"Not going to Endbringer fight and neither are you!"

"No silly we need to go to your apartment!"

Bleary-eyed, Amy peeked out of her cocoon to see Vicky wearing a ridiculous assortment of straps over pajamas. The aura light was blinking merrily.

"Bwah?" Amy replied, articulately.

"You said Dr. Weaver said your apartment is safer than home! And while it's not likely there might be riots or something! So we need to go to your apartment to keep you safe come on!"

Note:

Convincing Vicky that she is too young to fight endbringers is an unsatisfying, Sisyphean task. It is much easier to convince her that her Amy is the most important person on the planet and bad people might try to use the truce to attack her and she needs protecting!"

Remember, jaded!Taylor has decades of experience dealing with the sort of bullshit common from Lisa and later Victoria. Dealing with young!Vicky is almost relaxing.
 
Stronger Together
"Hey dumbass let's go!"

Alec did a double-take. "Why are you here, Aisha?" He paused, "wait, how are you here, I know I didn't give you a key!"

"Safety in numbers. Grab your shit and come on! You can hang out with me and bro until we know if there's gonna be riots or anything."

Alec grumbled and began putting his console and energy drinks into a bag. "I'm still stuck on how are you here?You're lucky I'm wearing pants!"

Aisha wiggled her fingers. "I am awesome and no door can stop me." She gave him an unimpressed look. "And you got nothing mom's dumbass boyfriends ain't showed me."

Elsewhere

"Is it weird that I'm more scared than usual?" Taylor asked her father as they sat on the couch.

"Oh?" He asked, putting an arm around her shoulder. "Why do you think that is?"

Taylor burrowed into her father's comforting warmth. "I guess because I know more now? Before they were just these sort of natural disasters. But now? I hope older!me is safe."

"Me too," said her Father. "Me too."


Note: Aisha is very proud that she lifted Dr. Weaver's master keycard. She hasn't figured out yet that it only works on certain doors, and it hasn't occurred to her yet that key card use can be monitored.
 
Emergency Sleepover
"Aisha, where have you been I was worried— why is Alec here and who are these kids?"

"Yo," said Aisha, shutting and locking the door behind her guests. "Safety in numbers! And this is May and Derek, their parents do something PRT. They are old enough to stay by themselves but I figured they'd do better not alone."

The two tweens were already setting up a game console with Alec.

"Aisha—is that a gun?"

"Tinkertech taser or stunner or something? Dr. Weaver gave it to me for emergencies. Oh, Glory Girl and Panacea might come by in a bit."

"What? How?"

"Saw them in the hall, invited them. Think they want to get out of pajamas first?"

"Where are you getting all this?"

She stared at him. "You have watched me read PRT manuals for how long?"


Note: Aisha has a good thing here and is going to be super helpful! If she does good they won't make her go back! She doesn't want no one thinking she's just a dumb kid!
 
Power Gets a Treat
Lisa looked around the windowless conference room. "Here?"

"Get set up," Dr. Weaver said, retrieving a laptop from the cart in the corner. "I'm not letting Thinktank near you and there is no reason to waste mover resources."

She removed a small device from her pocket, plugged it in, and a holographic multi-screen setup appeared.

"That's more like it! Where's mine?"

Dr. Weaver gave her a look.

Shortly Thereafter

Dr. Weaver looked at Lisa intently. "This is a marathon, not a sprint. Your objective today is to learn how to in the futurebest apply your power to such events. Actual contributions are optional."

Lisa gave Dr. Weaver her best unimpressed look.

A few minutes later

"HOW THE FUCK DOES ANYONE KEEP TRACK OF ANYTHING?!" Lisa exclaimed in frustration. Dr. Weaver was somehow monitoring, like, fiftydifferent audio, video and text feeds, while occasionally passing on to… well actually Lisa wasn't sure, but the messages all were, in Lisa's very expert opinion, utter gibberish.

Dr. Weaver shrugged, "You get used to it. You can calibrate it to focus on fewer things, most people don't monitor at such a high level."

Fortunately power seemed on-board with not immediately debilitating her, but the sense of excited interest she was getting was all kinds of concerning.

Notes:
Taylor: Basically mainlines ALL THE FEEDS, since she's been doing this sort of thing for decades.
Power: {DATA}
QA:Best host is BEST HOST
Lisa: Wait, why don't I have a migraine?
 
On Threat Ratings
Jaded!Taylor has made sure that her no-powers MRI got leaked. Thing is, threat ratings aren't about powers, they are about threat. And, well, Taylor is running around knowing things she absolutely should not know, apparently has a bullshit mover ability (actually Doormaker), and a knowledge of power psychology and behavior as good or better than any thinker or tinker or trump.

You start running into the problem that under PRT guidelines, even people with perfectly mundane abilities, once they hit a high enough level of performance, should earn a threat rating because they are so far from the mean. And, again, threat ratings are intended as a short hand to help some 19-year old trooper prepare for a confrontation. No, you don't say the dude is an Olympic sprinter, you just call him a low-level mover and be done with it.

Similarly, although the PRT bizarrely refuses to issue a threat rating for jaded!Taylor, you've got various other groups doing informal work-ups who come with all kinds of theories.

Heck, Tagg and Armstrong are still open to the possibility that she is some sort of high level master or stranger. But, on the other hand, her info continues to be good, she appears benevolent, and at some point what do you do?
 
Yahtzee!
Yahtzee!" Glory Girl, no Vicky, shouted triumphantly, as the tweens giggled.

"Keep it down!" Alec grumped in response from the couch, where he and Panacea were playing… some fighting game? It involved "parody" versions of female heroes in swimwear.

"Yo," said Aisha, from by the stove. "We out of rice, can you grab some?"

"Aisha," Brian replied, exasperated, "I'm not leaving you all here to do a grocery run, don't we have pasta?"

"No, no," Aisha replied. "I've got more in the emergency supplies Dr. Weaver helped me get, it's in the back of my closet in the big box labeled 'sex toys'."

Alec cackled, although Brian chose to believe it was in response to the game and not Aisha's comment.


Notes:

"Do I want to know what's in the box labeled 'Emergency Supplies'?"

"No comment."

"What about 'Pony Shit'?"

"Actual pony shit, as far as you know."

"How 'bout I leave your weirdly labeled boxes alone."

"Smart boy!"
 
Dog Check
Lisa rested her head on the table and let the audio feeds wash over her. "How are you still going?"

"Experience. It's nearly over."

"Oh my god how the fuck can you know! They're moving around so much I barely know what time zone they're in and I couldn't begin to guess when it will end."

"I think it's going fairly well, actually."

Lisa lifted up her head and gave the older woman a disbelieving stare. "Wat."

The older woman shrugged. "You get a feel for these things."

Elsewhere

Rachel carefully checked over the last of her dogs. In her mind, it was simple. This was a chance to show her dogs were the best dogs at rescuing people. Then people would want more. Training dogs meant money for more dogs, and that the trained dogs were safe.

Rachel still wasn't entirely sure how Dr. Weaver had convinced the PRT to pay Rachel for the privilege of taking good care of dogs. Before they didn't like her, or her dogs, or really any dogs. But cops were stupid, and she wasn't going to complain.

Note: Rachel the master is terrifying. She's a half feral wolf girl with monster wolves. Rachel the tinker-adjacent dog trainer is much less alarming. Yes, she is wildly neurodivergent but… have you met tinkers? Yeah she gets upset if you are mean to her pets, but have you seen what Armsmaster is like if you scuff his bike? And what tinker doesn't have some stupidly excessive emergency fuck-you measure? Monster dogs fit right in.
 
Secret Debrief
Keith was beyond drained. Endbringer battles were always exhausting but few had been chaotic and fluid as this most recent attack by Leviathan, a running fight lasting most of a day, starting in the Red Sea and ending a couple hundred kilometers northeast of Madagascar. Still, his presence as Legend at this initial Cauldron debrief was necessary, and at least allowed an opportunity to zone out and rest his mind as reports flowed over him.

"…desecrated a dozen shipwrecks including several recognized war graves for use as impromptu projectiles…"

"…devastating two hundred kilometers of Red Sea coastline, leaving in some spots gorges so deep they might be suitable for deep water harbors…"

"…doubled the width of the Bab-el-Mandeb…"

"…detonated a tinkertech chemical weapons stockpile…"

"…provoked and then conclusively ended a multi-lateral engagement involving Gessellschaft, a CUI offshore black site, the Three Blasphemies and Moord Nag, as well as the multinational forces present under truce…"

"…and yet somehow casualties were an order of magnitude less than usual?"

"Yes!" David's triumphant declaration drew Keith's attention. "Clearly I need to further refine targeting criteria but this is obviously an improvement!"


Note: Pretty sure this was actually the first bit I wrote in this chain.
 
You Got the Stuff?
"Hello?"

"Cassie, this is Dr. Weaver. Are you interested in a chance to make some money, hang out with Rachel, help with search and rescue, oh and likely get some serious emotional trauma?"

"Wow you sure know how to sell a girl…"

Shortly thereafter

"Armsmaster speaking."

"This is Dr. Weaver. I just spoke with Dragon. I have not slept since before the attack, and will shortly be escorting Ms. Lindt on S&R. Incidentally, I am not a fan of the tinkertech stimulants made available to the PRT."

There was a brief, busy sort of silence, before Armsmaster responded. "I commend you on your dedication. You may enter my lab and retrieve for your own use one of my personal emergency response kits, located in storage container C-6. You are cautioned to please observe all relevant regulations with regard to the contents."


Note: Jaded!Taylor does, of course, have access to ridiculous tinkertech drugs through Cauldron. However, this gives her plausible deniability and also serves as a bonding thing with Colin.
 
Don’t Be A Stranger!
"Took the kids home, their parents were pleased. Alec went back downstairs and Amy crashed back at her place." Glory Girl rattled off, as Brian put a blanket over Aisha's sleeping form. She'd insisted on staying up to help them tidy up, until she had sprawled out on the couch 'for just a minute' to 'rest her eyes'.

Glory Girl surveyed the now only slightly messy room. "I think this was good for Amy, playing couch potato is a good break for her after going run run run all the time at home."

Brian rubbed the back of his head. "About Alec…"

Glory Girl nodded sagely. "Let's just say I've heard that gaming smack talk before and leave it at that. Do I need to worry?"

Brian shook his head. "Nah, causing problems would be too much work."

Glory Girl, no Victoria snorted, and turned to look at Aisha. "She did good. I was worried about how to keep Amy from fretting, and it was clearly good for the kids and her as well."

"Yeah," Brian said proudly. "she did good."

"Make sure you tell her that, not just me." Victoria yawned. "And maybe tell Dr. Weaver, Aisha really looks up to her."

"Yeah." Brain looked at his sleeping sister fondly. "Dr. Weaver has been good for both of us, but especially her."

Victoria yawned again. "Ok, well I'm going to go call Dean and then crash. Don't be a stranger!"

Note: There need to be more Amy/Alec friendship fics. Amy could really do with more "couch potato no fucks".
 
Post-Modern Chemistry Gives You Pep!
"What did you learn?"

"How the fuck are you so peppy?" Lisa grumped. "I crashed for days and I'm still exhausted. Power was fine during the attack, which I still haven't figured out."

"In order, (1) a combination of experience, and post-modern chemistry and (2) it's almost like your Power got so intrigued with what was happening that it forgot to meddle with you until festivities were over."

Lisa gave Dr. Weaver a flat stare. Power, what the fuck.
She is under the influence of powerful tinkertech stimulants.

No shit. That's not what I meant and you know it.

She believes what she is saying? She has literally decades of experience dealing with me?
Lisa's headache got worse, but she nevertheless jotted down a note on her arm so the bastard couldn't make her forget.

Dr. Weaver continued, "well, we can give you a few more days to gather your thoughts. I'd linger, but after a few more check-ins and a power nap, I need to go back and help Rachel pack up."


Notes:

Lisa is getting increasingly bothered at how adept Dr. Weaver is with power. Part of why she's so disturbed is that she keeps getting intuitive feelings that it's all fine and she shouldn't worry, but she recognizes those thoughts as suspicious. Lisa might or might not be working on a conspiracy cork board.

Also, jaded!Taylor is very good at telling when Lisa is being rude because she is being catty with the voice in her head. As opposed to, you know, all the other times.
 
Alec Has Needs!
Alec: Why Aisha not answer texts, I has needs!
Brian: You watched her down how many energy drinks? Of course she's still crashed out.
Alec: boring. Hey do *you* want to make 20?
Brian: …

Elsewhere

"And how did Ms. Lindt perform?"

"Actually very well," the disaster response coordinator replied. "The dogs performed comparably to tinkertech at locating survivors. Even the handler's, ah, idiosyncrasies, are more manageable than several of the tinkers we work with.

"Oh, and some of the troopers that she found buried under a command post, in particular, are interested in volunteering for training to work with her going forward.

"Excellent," said Dr. Weaver. "Moving on, I was hoping you might be able to direct me toward training materials used by your department? The more comprehensive, the better—I have a precocious thinker who thinks they know everything. Want to take them down a peg."

The coordinator grinned. "I think we can help with that."


Note: It's almost like a species that has evolved and then been bred for a strong sense of smell outperforms blackboxed tinkertech bullshit that runs on the tears of angels. That's a check box next to "make Rachel useful to the PRT".
 
Cheaper than Prison
"… a few minor disruptions on the Boardwalk and in Empire territory, but elsewhere the Truce was observed scrupulously."

"We aren't that lucky." Emily replied glumly.

"Lung has always taken a dim view on Truce violations, and it looks like Coil is now doing the same."

"Someone is being too clever, and it won't end well. A problem for another day I suppose. How goes S&R?"

"Assault and Battery are staying another two days, the rest have returned. Ms. Lindt and a minder are still deployed as well."

"Hmm," Director Piggot frowned. "Well, we'll see if Dr. Weaver was right about the girl. If not, Ms. Lindt is less trouble on that farm than on the run, and it's cheaper than prison."

Elsewhere

Director Tagg leaned forward. "The most recent Endbringer attack was in many ways inconsistent with prior attacks."

"Yes. To answer the inevitable questions, efforts were made to influence behavior but we don't know if they were effective or if this was a coincidence. We don't know if this is indicative of a 'new normal'."

Tagg snorted in frustration. "Is there anything you do know?"

"We're pretty sure we've identified a sequence of events that would result in the angel being active continuously, albeit at a lower intensity."

Kamil scowled. "That's not funny."

"I assure you, no one was laughing."


Notes: Taylor does enjoy inflicting this idiocy on Tagg and Armstrong.
 
Pizza and Snacks
"Armsmaster speaking."

"This is Legend."

"Sir."

"Your prediction algorithm. You mentioned resource constraints."

"Sir?"

"It is being fast-tracked. Make a list, resources, facilities, people."

"Sir, but—"

"I know, coin-flip odds. We can afford false positives if it means when an attack does occur we have even half this much advance notice, and I know you. If you didn't think it could be refined further you wouldn't still be working on it."

Elsewhere

"No, Vicky, my dear little cousin, you can't set me up on a blind date with a kid young enough to be in high school, emancipated or not, no matter how sweet and mature and responsible."

"Fine, I'll bring out the big guns! His! Take a look at this!"

"Ok, yes, he is fit, but how the hell did you even get that picture?"

Elsewhere

Amy: You around?
Alec: ??
Amy: Family being bleh
Alec: Ah. Yeah, come over, we game. Bring snacks, snack getter be all zzzzzz

Later

"Did you seriously invite me over just so you didn't have to go down and meet the pizza guy yourself?"

"I mean," Alec said with a grin, "it wasn't only for that?"

Amy snorted.
 
Poke Fox With Stick
Poke.

Lisa groaned and squirmed deeper into her blanket cocoon.

Poke.

"Don't wanna go to church," she mumbled.

A pause. A rustling. More poking, this time in a different shape.

A hand emerged, fumbled a bit, before taking the offered container.

A few moments later a furious Lisa popped up, sputtering. "What the actual fuck is this?"

"Pedia-whatever," Aisha said, unamused. "For babies and hangovers. And, apparently, you. What happened?"

Lisa took another drink and made a face. "Thinker headache."

Aisha nodded sagely. "That is acceptable. Put this in the drink." She handed Lisa a packet of powder. "Makes it taste less bad."

Lisa took it gingerly. Then did a double-take.

"Wait why are you here? How are you here?"

"You were late for exercise and didn't reply to texts so something was wrong."

Lisa groaned and looked at her phone, to find a string of text messages that escalated from annoyed, to concerned, to deliberately provocative.

Lisa sighed.

"Uh, Lisa?"

"Hmm?"

"Why is your bedroom wall covered in nonsense and string?"

"Thinker stuff, you wouldn't understand." Lisa said, weakly.

"Uh huh." Aisha sounded unconvinced. "'Cause it looks like something mom's ex Larry would have made, and he literally wandered around in a tinfoil hat."


Note: Incidentally, Larry in Aisha's mind was one of the less objectionable ones. Time Larry spent playing with string was time he didn't spend causing trouble, or being bored and drunk. And while him ranting at her was annoying, he at least looked at her eyes when doing it.
 
Piggot on Missy
Posted this in a comment on AO3, and thought others might be interested in seeing it. This was in a discussion to the chapter where it is revealed that Youth Guard, Branding, Missy, and her parents, were all in a big pissing match over safety concerns.



Piggot is just glad that all these lunatics are bothering each other instead of her. Her basic attitude toward Vista is frustration that Piggot needs to keep the pint-sized potential strategic asset safe from the girl's own idiocy long enough for her to mature enough to be able to use her powers effectively. And, while she sympathizes with the girl's desire for better equipment, the girl just doesn't understand her limits and gets into scraps she has no business being in. And also physically cannot carryactual useful levels of gear.

Put differently, in a city with Oni Lee and Hookwolf, it's not clear that better armor would really make Visat safer. The girl has no business being in a position where she even can get hurt even now yet she keeps. Getting. Injured. At least now the level of force required to render her mission incapable is low enough that the girl isn't too badly banged up. Give her the ability to tank small arms and she'll just find a way to get shot at by higher-lethality weapons.

I will also point out that Piggot knows what it looks likewhen a junior trooper is trying to hide an injury. Yes, it's usually due to stupid bar fights versus stupid actual fights, but the idea is the same.

Also, Max is not stupid. Well, he is, but in this matter he has his head screwed on straight—covering his ass. There is a non-zero chance that someone quietly contacted the PRT after Hookwolf ran into Vista, and offered Othala healing as well as a polite suggestion that the girl stay in her lane. It's hard to not kill Wards when they jump in front of murder blenders.

So in short, from Piggot's perspective, Missy's parents are self-centered pieces of shit, Missy is suicidally reckless with a chip on her shoulder, Youth Guard are well-meaning fools, and Branding gets kudos for somehow making this disaster adorable but loses points big for believing their own propaganda.

I will also point out that, for all Vicky gets shit on, at least in this fic when told how her power can be more dangerous than she realized, she did earnestly and in good faith make a huge effort to do better. She did it in a super-annoying way, and at high volume, but she's trying. While Missy, on learning that her power is actually more dangerous, does a lot of dangerous shit including putting a ball bearing through her own foot and setting the kitchen on fire.
 
Progress, and Order
"At some point during the thing, I looked around the apartment and something clicked. I think it was thinking back to the last attack. So much had changed, for the better. I would never have imagined Aisha and I would have our own place, and be entertaining New Wave in sweats, distracting a couple of our neighbors' kids, Alec and Amy on the couch…

"We were… just people. Teens. Is this what it's supposed to be like?"

Dr. Weaver smiled enigmatically. "It's not supposed to be anything. But it's what it can be like. And after, well everything, you have the blessing and curse of never taking it for granted."

Brian laughed, weakly. "No."

"Now that you have it, you'll fight to keep it." She smiled that smile again. "And you don't have to do so alone."

Elsewhere

"This is identical, on a molecular level, to the Aleph original. It brings into question whether it can even be said that this is a copy, rather than a duplicate original."

The tattooed man stared. "You offer priceless cultural relics and in exchange you want me to… wind-down 'less reputable' business practices? What is this, if you have such power you need not negotiate."

Frankly, the body-double agreed, but he knew the role he was to play. "And yet here I am."

"And you would have us cooperate to enforce obedience by the… less organized elements."

"Indeed. It is easier, more orderly, for one seeking a more agreeable Bay to work with already-established elements such as ourselves."

"And what of the would-be emperor?"

"I am told that his organization has been deemed too disorderly to be a part of the Bay's future."


Note: Yes, it's jaded!Taylor making Coil do this, not Accord, but Accord found the idea aesthetically pleasing, and finds the reputational benefit sufficient to compensate for the suggestion of his involvement.
 
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