Slider's random fic ideas set mostly in Worm and generally following Taylor. There will likely be some crossovers throughout as well. Most of these snips can be considered to be separate entities from each other unless otherwise noted.
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Hostile Takeover Ch 1 - Reconnaissance 01
- Location
- Florida
- Pronouns
- He/Him
So this is going to be my snippet thread! I have many other snips in the original SB thread, but seeing as this is the first thing I am not entirely sure is going to get new chapters (or when those will be written), it seemed appropriate to remake my snips over here.
I do have a second chapter for this one, which should be up shortly as well. I'm just not sure when I'll get around to writing more. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!
Hostile Takeover
Reconnaissance 01
Singularity ground her teeth together and glared at the men arrayed below. The darkness that pooled around her fingers swirling, the eddies almost playful in their eagerness to seep into the monster now that she'd found him.
Hunting for Lung had been the correct call after all. She'd initially chosen him because, while the Empire were horrible people, she was more immediately concerned about the fate of the ABB's sex slaves. Dead victims couldn't be saved, living tortured souls were an entirely different matter. While the Empire were certainly on the chopping block, the ABB were just smarter targets.
Also, it would be far easier to flip the remaining assets. The ABB, by and large, were conscripted or joined to protect themselves from the Empire. That was a far less reprehensible group than actual Nazis.
Needless to say, once the gang was hers, the slavers would be quietly executed. If there was one thing that Lustrum had been a lesson against, it was doing things loud. At least, not without a strong base to back you up.
"This city needs a reminder of why it does not tickle the Dragon!" Lung growled.
Singularity chuckled. Someone did some reading in his spare time. Not that it was going to save him. He was probably going after the Undersiders; rumor had it they had pulled a job on one of his holdings recently. Sloppy, foolish. A smash-and-grab group without a major heavy hitter had no business going against the Dragon of Kyushu. Maybe she could leverage this fight into an in with them as well. The kids obviously needed better management and it would be a good stepping stone for her.
Lung had started directing his troops while she was busy woolgathering. Ah well, this served to make things easier in a way. As soon as the first group trotted past Lung, Singularity jumped over the edge of the building. With a quick grab against the brick opposite to slow her fall, she landed right behind the Dragon, her knees bent to absorb the last of the impact.
Lung was quick to react, she'd give him that. He was already turning around and snarling, his arm raised to backhand her away. She'd done her homework though and she knew how he fought. Leaning back and ducking down, she dodged his sweep, grabbing his arm as it skated by just overhead, close enough to ruffle her curly black hair.
Hmm, maybe she should have rethought her costume? Loose hair really was a liability in a fight. Too late now, but something to consider for the future.
"Who dares —"
"Name's Singularity," she chirped, her fingers curled around his bicep, her power already seeping through him. "Don't forget me, honey."
Lung snapped his arm up, obviously trying to shake her grip, possibly attempting to throw her into the nearby wall. Unfortunately for him, she'd hadn't been idle for the past few weeks and her training had yielded great results. As Lung whipped her around, she was able to easily keep her grip, even running along the wall to maintain her balance.
All the while, her power worked deeper, the black storm of energy forced its way into his veins and rushed through his body.
Lung roared. He'd gained four inches since she'd dropped into the alley, but his progress had already slowed to a crawl. And his skin wasn't even warm. He tried to breath fire at her, yet all that came out was little more than a foot-long blowtorch. A blowtorch that even as she watched — ducking under his wild swing from his free hand — shortened and sputtered.
"Having some performance issues? It's okay, I hear a lot of men have problems with that."
Lung screamed insults at her. She really needed to learn Japanese, especially if she was aiming to absorb the ABB gangers.
One of Lung's wild swings finally managed to clip her. Not that it did much by this point, it barely felt like a light tap.
And that was the last of his strength too, it appeared. With one final whimper, Lung's legs gave out and he fell to his knees below her.
Singularity reached down, the void curling playfully around her free hand as she tapped his forehead, just above his mask. "This is my city now. I won't kill you — not right now — but if you make the mistake of coming after me or mine after your inevitable escape from the PRT? There will be no restraint. It'll be justified then. No one will look at me twice."
Lung gurgled, his eyes rolling up into his skull, but he didn't drop.
"Give me an excuse, oh mighty Dragon. Give me a reason to kill you. Get away from the incompetent buffoons and come for me. Try for Round 2. It will make it so much easier."
She let go of his arm, and Lung dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, his breathing labored, half his body black as tar.
Singularity grinned wide, standing up straight and sauntering back down the road. She reached for her phone, but before she could get it out of her pocket a trio of large, bony, reptilian… things scrambled to a halt a short distance away, their quartet of riders slipping off.
Well, she couldn't have planned this better if she'd tried. The Undersiders were coming to her it seemed!
"Good evening."
The black-clad motorcyclist inclined his head, his arms carefully held loose at his sides. The darkness seeping into the air around him identified him as Grue. It was almost a shame that when she absorbed them, people would inevitably claim that they were related just because both powers were a bit smokey. People were idiots. That was a lesson she'd been forced to learn the hard way — multiple times.
"We owe you. That was pretty impressive, taking out Lung like that. He was gunning for us and we weren't sure how we were going to take care of that problem." The kid was obviously new to the scene. He was far too tense, his head swiveling to follow her every move. If he was going to play at being the leader, he should put more effort into hiding that he was browbeaten by a girl who seemed to lean too hard on her catsuit.
Said blonde — that had to be Tattletale — laughed. Her smirk on the other hand was just wide enough to be triumphant. The supposed Thinker of the group, if PHO was to be believed. Apparently she wasn't just all talk if she could pull the reins of her team. "Yeah, we definitely didn't figure on a mysterious savior. Much appreciated."
That was an unusual emphasis. Perhaps things were more complicated than she'd initially assumed? Then again, perhaps the girl was just an idiot. She did let her team piss off the Dragon of Kyushu without sufficient backup and she'd very obviously manipulated them into chatting up his vanquisher.
"Just doing my part to take out the local destructive elements," Singularity said, waving a hand over her shoulder. "You haven't seen Oni Lee around have you? With any luck I can get them both in before I have to get home."
The theater wannabe — Regent? — scoffed. "Good luck. Mr. Suicide Bomber turned tail and ran after Bitch got her dogs just a bit too close. Dude can teleport with infinite grenades and he fucking ran away! Laaame."
Grue shook his head, though the center of his helmet never actually lost track of her. She suppressed a sigh. That thing had to have a horrible field of vision. "Regent please don't tempt fate. Do you want a ride? Tattletale says the heroes are coming."
"We've got about another minute," Tattletale said. "We could really use your help."
There was subtlety and then there was laying it on too thick. Singularity almost sighed, but she restrained herself. The girl was fishing. She'd bite of course. If it led to recruiting lieutenants and taking out more of the rot in the city, she was fine with being led around a bit. Still, there was something to be said for tact.
"You weren't exactly subtle yourself when you dropped into an alley to fight Lung," Tattletale smirked. "On your first night? Who's being loud and unsubtle again?"
Singularity laughed, planting a hand on her hip and shaking her head at the younger cape. For a second she almost wanted to accept their ride. It would be funny, and likely give one or two of them heart attacks. "Oh, I like you! I have to get home soon anyway, I'll stay and chat with the Protectorate; make sure they are well aware of who I am. We should continue this conversation though. Say tomorrow, six o'clock, roof of the Golden Martini?"
"Sure, that works," Grue said. Tattletale tapped her wrist and the group climbed back onto their dogs. "Thanks again, ma'am. We'll meet you tomorrow."
It was only as the lizard things — dogs? Were those the dogs that Regent mentioned? — loped off that Singularity realized Bitch hadn't spoken a single word. Had the girl even looked at her? That was rather impressive in a strange sort of way. Ah well, something to consider later when the roar of Armsmaster's motorcycle wasn't approaching.
Did it have to be so loud? Certainly he could have adjusted it. He was a Tinker after all. Maybe it was intentional? To let people know he was coming?
The bike cleared a corner, finally coming into view a short distance away, the man himself dismounting even as the motorcycle finished skidding to a halt, his halberd already in hand and pointed halfway towards her.
"Identify yourself," Armsmaster stated.
She sighed. "Well so much for banter. I'm Singularity. Lung is all yours. Don't hit him with anything strong for a few hours or he'll crash. My power isn't kind when I have time to really let it sink in."
Armsmaster's head turned just enough that he could take in Lung without losing track of her as well. "What did you do to him?"
"Well that would be telling wouldn't it?" she grinned. It was not kind. "Again, my name is Singularity. I expect to see that in the papers tomorrow."
"That's particularly dangerous right now," Armsmaster grunted. "The ABB has a new tinker. Both Oni Lee and Bakuda will be aiming for revenge for this insult and it does not appear that you have a team. We could support —"
She snorted. "No. Hell no. I cannot overstate how much you and your Protectorate can go fuck yourselves." She lost control at the end, her carefully crafted demeanor dropping away as she hissed, her voice dropping to a throaty snarl, the wispy curls of her power swirling around her hands as if they were alive. "You work with monsters and I would sooner see your entire organization sunk to the bottom of the Bay before I take a single second of support from anyone who employs that psychopath."
Armsmaster was fully focused back on her, both hands on his halberd, fingers locked tight. Not that it would help him. He probably thought that he was safe from her, covered in his fancy power armor. It wouldn't make any difference. All she needed to do was get close and she could leave him trapped in a metal cocoon and then after another few minutes, she'd be inside his armor and he would be at her mercy entirely and…
She took a deep breath, reaching up to run both hands through her hair and shaking her head to clear it. There would be another time for the Protectorate to reap their comeuppance. "The credit for Lung's capture is mine. Get rid of your psychopath, maybe try to actually do something about the state of the Bay, and then we can talk. Until then, have a nice night."
"You haven't even said who you're talking about. Even if I can figure it out later, you have to know it is never that simple," Armsmaster stated. She may have been imagining things, it may have been wishful thinking, but she thought she heard a note of frustration in his voice.
She twisted on her heel, staring him straight in the visor. "Brockton has been run by sex slavers and Nazis for almost two decades. And the PRT employs murderers that are almost on par with them. If you truly have no idea who I'm alluding to, then you have no business running this shit show. Congratulations. You're on the wrong side of this argument, Armsmaster." She clenched her fist. "My daughter used to idolize you. I pray she never has to learn how far you've fallen."
Before he had a chance to say anything in response, Singularity spun around again and strode into the darkness, her cape flaring dramatically, leaving the man behind. She fumed as the dark street passed her by. She shouldn't have lost her cool like that. She was supposed to be staying under the radar, at least until she had her own lieutenants. Had she learned nothing?!
There were distant sirens, but it was too far for her to investigate. It was getting late anyway, she really did need to get home. Putting the noise out of mind, she did her best to focus on future plans as she walked to her stash, dropping into the shadows of the alleys to let cars pass. Slowly, as she stalked back, the frustration boiling in her gut started to quell. By the time she reached her pack, she was mostly calm again. Calm enough at least.
Swapping her costume for regular clothes, she walked the last block back home and slipped in the front door, taking care to avoid the damaged step. She really needed to find the time to fix that one of these days…
The door closed behind her with a soft click. It should have been nearly impossible to hear. And yet…
"Mm, Mom?" a sleepy voice murmured from the couch.
She dropped her backpack near the door and trod to the living room. "Hey, honey. You should be sleeping. What are you doing, downstairs, Taylor?"
"Was reading, fell asleep."
She ruffled her daughter's hair, smiling softly. "Of course you were." She most certainly was not. Taylor had not been there when she had left. "Come on, let's get you back into bed, young lady."
"'Kay." Taylor yawned, letting herself be levered up and guided to the stairs. "Night, Mom."
"Good night, Taylor. I'll see you in the morning. Sleep in a bit, okay? There's no rush, we're almost done with the next module anyway."
"Sleep. Mmm, good idea."
"Do you need help getting back upstairs?" she asked, doing her best to hide the near automatic wince.
Taylor shook her head, the ghost of a smile flickering across her face, there and gone in a flash. "I'm much better at this now. At home at least. Love you, Mom."
"I love you too, sweetheart. Just shout if you need anything."
As her daughter shuffled off upstairs, she forced down the frustration and anger. It was a near constant companion now, and she was used to it. She had a channel for it now. It was useful. Turning back to the entryway, she grabbed for her bag, clutching it to her chest, and barely repressed a girlish giggle. She'd taken down Lung tonight! Lung! And she'd made in-roads with potential future lieutenants! And she'd — hopefully — shamed Armsmaster!
Justice was a long road, but this was an excellent start.
"You'd be proud of me, Lustrum," Annette whispered. "Just watch, I'm going to finish what you started."
I do have a second chapter for this one, which should be up shortly as well. I'm just not sure when I'll get around to writing more. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!
Hostile Takeover
Reconnaissance 01
Singularity ground her teeth together and glared at the men arrayed below. The darkness that pooled around her fingers swirling, the eddies almost playful in their eagerness to seep into the monster now that she'd found him.
Hunting for Lung had been the correct call after all. She'd initially chosen him because, while the Empire were horrible people, she was more immediately concerned about the fate of the ABB's sex slaves. Dead victims couldn't be saved, living tortured souls were an entirely different matter. While the Empire were certainly on the chopping block, the ABB were just smarter targets.
Also, it would be far easier to flip the remaining assets. The ABB, by and large, were conscripted or joined to protect themselves from the Empire. That was a far less reprehensible group than actual Nazis.
Needless to say, once the gang was hers, the slavers would be quietly executed. If there was one thing that Lustrum had been a lesson against, it was doing things loud. At least, not without a strong base to back you up.
"This city needs a reminder of why it does not tickle the Dragon!" Lung growled.
Singularity chuckled. Someone did some reading in his spare time. Not that it was going to save him. He was probably going after the Undersiders; rumor had it they had pulled a job on one of his holdings recently. Sloppy, foolish. A smash-and-grab group without a major heavy hitter had no business going against the Dragon of Kyushu. Maybe she could leverage this fight into an in with them as well. The kids obviously needed better management and it would be a good stepping stone for her.
Lung had started directing his troops while she was busy woolgathering. Ah well, this served to make things easier in a way. As soon as the first group trotted past Lung, Singularity jumped over the edge of the building. With a quick grab against the brick opposite to slow her fall, she landed right behind the Dragon, her knees bent to absorb the last of the impact.
Lung was quick to react, she'd give him that. He was already turning around and snarling, his arm raised to backhand her away. She'd done her homework though and she knew how he fought. Leaning back and ducking down, she dodged his sweep, grabbing his arm as it skated by just overhead, close enough to ruffle her curly black hair.
Hmm, maybe she should have rethought her costume? Loose hair really was a liability in a fight. Too late now, but something to consider for the future.
"Who dares —"
"Name's Singularity," she chirped, her fingers curled around his bicep, her power already seeping through him. "Don't forget me, honey."
Lung snapped his arm up, obviously trying to shake her grip, possibly attempting to throw her into the nearby wall. Unfortunately for him, she'd hadn't been idle for the past few weeks and her training had yielded great results. As Lung whipped her around, she was able to easily keep her grip, even running along the wall to maintain her balance.
All the while, her power worked deeper, the black storm of energy forced its way into his veins and rushed through his body.
Lung roared. He'd gained four inches since she'd dropped into the alley, but his progress had already slowed to a crawl. And his skin wasn't even warm. He tried to breath fire at her, yet all that came out was little more than a foot-long blowtorch. A blowtorch that even as she watched — ducking under his wild swing from his free hand — shortened and sputtered.
"Having some performance issues? It's okay, I hear a lot of men have problems with that."
Lung screamed insults at her. She really needed to learn Japanese, especially if she was aiming to absorb the ABB gangers.
One of Lung's wild swings finally managed to clip her. Not that it did much by this point, it barely felt like a light tap.
And that was the last of his strength too, it appeared. With one final whimper, Lung's legs gave out and he fell to his knees below her.
Singularity reached down, the void curling playfully around her free hand as she tapped his forehead, just above his mask. "This is my city now. I won't kill you — not right now — but if you make the mistake of coming after me or mine after your inevitable escape from the PRT? There will be no restraint. It'll be justified then. No one will look at me twice."
Lung gurgled, his eyes rolling up into his skull, but he didn't drop.
"Give me an excuse, oh mighty Dragon. Give me a reason to kill you. Get away from the incompetent buffoons and come for me. Try for Round 2. It will make it so much easier."
She let go of his arm, and Lung dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, his breathing labored, half his body black as tar.
Singularity grinned wide, standing up straight and sauntering back down the road. She reached for her phone, but before she could get it out of her pocket a trio of large, bony, reptilian… things scrambled to a halt a short distance away, their quartet of riders slipping off.
Well, she couldn't have planned this better if she'd tried. The Undersiders were coming to her it seemed!
"Good evening."
The black-clad motorcyclist inclined his head, his arms carefully held loose at his sides. The darkness seeping into the air around him identified him as Grue. It was almost a shame that when she absorbed them, people would inevitably claim that they were related just because both powers were a bit smokey. People were idiots. That was a lesson she'd been forced to learn the hard way — multiple times.
"We owe you. That was pretty impressive, taking out Lung like that. He was gunning for us and we weren't sure how we were going to take care of that problem." The kid was obviously new to the scene. He was far too tense, his head swiveling to follow her every move. If he was going to play at being the leader, he should put more effort into hiding that he was browbeaten by a girl who seemed to lean too hard on her catsuit.
Said blonde — that had to be Tattletale — laughed. Her smirk on the other hand was just wide enough to be triumphant. The supposed Thinker of the group, if PHO was to be believed. Apparently she wasn't just all talk if she could pull the reins of her team. "Yeah, we definitely didn't figure on a mysterious savior. Much appreciated."
That was an unusual emphasis. Perhaps things were more complicated than she'd initially assumed? Then again, perhaps the girl was just an idiot. She did let her team piss off the Dragon of Kyushu without sufficient backup and she'd very obviously manipulated them into chatting up his vanquisher.
"Just doing my part to take out the local destructive elements," Singularity said, waving a hand over her shoulder. "You haven't seen Oni Lee around have you? With any luck I can get them both in before I have to get home."
The theater wannabe — Regent? — scoffed. "Good luck. Mr. Suicide Bomber turned tail and ran after Bitch got her dogs just a bit too close. Dude can teleport with infinite grenades and he fucking ran away! Laaame."
Grue shook his head, though the center of his helmet never actually lost track of her. She suppressed a sigh. That thing had to have a horrible field of vision. "Regent please don't tempt fate. Do you want a ride? Tattletale says the heroes are coming."
"We've got about another minute," Tattletale said. "We could really use your help."
There was subtlety and then there was laying it on too thick. Singularity almost sighed, but she restrained herself. The girl was fishing. She'd bite of course. If it led to recruiting lieutenants and taking out more of the rot in the city, she was fine with being led around a bit. Still, there was something to be said for tact.
"You weren't exactly subtle yourself when you dropped into an alley to fight Lung," Tattletale smirked. "On your first night? Who's being loud and unsubtle again?"
Singularity laughed, planting a hand on her hip and shaking her head at the younger cape. For a second she almost wanted to accept their ride. It would be funny, and likely give one or two of them heart attacks. "Oh, I like you! I have to get home soon anyway, I'll stay and chat with the Protectorate; make sure they are well aware of who I am. We should continue this conversation though. Say tomorrow, six o'clock, roof of the Golden Martini?"
"Sure, that works," Grue said. Tattletale tapped her wrist and the group climbed back onto their dogs. "Thanks again, ma'am. We'll meet you tomorrow."
It was only as the lizard things — dogs? Were those the dogs that Regent mentioned? — loped off that Singularity realized Bitch hadn't spoken a single word. Had the girl even looked at her? That was rather impressive in a strange sort of way. Ah well, something to consider later when the roar of Armsmaster's motorcycle wasn't approaching.
Did it have to be so loud? Certainly he could have adjusted it. He was a Tinker after all. Maybe it was intentional? To let people know he was coming?
The bike cleared a corner, finally coming into view a short distance away, the man himself dismounting even as the motorcycle finished skidding to a halt, his halberd already in hand and pointed halfway towards her.
"Identify yourself," Armsmaster stated.
She sighed. "Well so much for banter. I'm Singularity. Lung is all yours. Don't hit him with anything strong for a few hours or he'll crash. My power isn't kind when I have time to really let it sink in."
Armsmaster's head turned just enough that he could take in Lung without losing track of her as well. "What did you do to him?"
"Well that would be telling wouldn't it?" she grinned. It was not kind. "Again, my name is Singularity. I expect to see that in the papers tomorrow."
"That's particularly dangerous right now," Armsmaster grunted. "The ABB has a new tinker. Both Oni Lee and Bakuda will be aiming for revenge for this insult and it does not appear that you have a team. We could support —"
She snorted. "No. Hell no. I cannot overstate how much you and your Protectorate can go fuck yourselves." She lost control at the end, her carefully crafted demeanor dropping away as she hissed, her voice dropping to a throaty snarl, the wispy curls of her power swirling around her hands as if they were alive. "You work with monsters and I would sooner see your entire organization sunk to the bottom of the Bay before I take a single second of support from anyone who employs that psychopath."
Armsmaster was fully focused back on her, both hands on his halberd, fingers locked tight. Not that it would help him. He probably thought that he was safe from her, covered in his fancy power armor. It wouldn't make any difference. All she needed to do was get close and she could leave him trapped in a metal cocoon and then after another few minutes, she'd be inside his armor and he would be at her mercy entirely and…
She took a deep breath, reaching up to run both hands through her hair and shaking her head to clear it. There would be another time for the Protectorate to reap their comeuppance. "The credit for Lung's capture is mine. Get rid of your psychopath, maybe try to actually do something about the state of the Bay, and then we can talk. Until then, have a nice night."
"You haven't even said who you're talking about. Even if I can figure it out later, you have to know it is never that simple," Armsmaster stated. She may have been imagining things, it may have been wishful thinking, but she thought she heard a note of frustration in his voice.
She twisted on her heel, staring him straight in the visor. "Brockton has been run by sex slavers and Nazis for almost two decades. And the PRT employs murderers that are almost on par with them. If you truly have no idea who I'm alluding to, then you have no business running this shit show. Congratulations. You're on the wrong side of this argument, Armsmaster." She clenched her fist. "My daughter used to idolize you. I pray she never has to learn how far you've fallen."
Before he had a chance to say anything in response, Singularity spun around again and strode into the darkness, her cape flaring dramatically, leaving the man behind. She fumed as the dark street passed her by. She shouldn't have lost her cool like that. She was supposed to be staying under the radar, at least until she had her own lieutenants. Had she learned nothing?!
There were distant sirens, but it was too far for her to investigate. It was getting late anyway, she really did need to get home. Putting the noise out of mind, she did her best to focus on future plans as she walked to her stash, dropping into the shadows of the alleys to let cars pass. Slowly, as she stalked back, the frustration boiling in her gut started to quell. By the time she reached her pack, she was mostly calm again. Calm enough at least.
Swapping her costume for regular clothes, she walked the last block back home and slipped in the front door, taking care to avoid the damaged step. She really needed to find the time to fix that one of these days…
The door closed behind her with a soft click. It should have been nearly impossible to hear. And yet…
"Mm, Mom?" a sleepy voice murmured from the couch.
She dropped her backpack near the door and trod to the living room. "Hey, honey. You should be sleeping. What are you doing, downstairs, Taylor?"
"Was reading, fell asleep."
She ruffled her daughter's hair, smiling softly. "Of course you were." She most certainly was not. Taylor had not been there when she had left. "Come on, let's get you back into bed, young lady."
"'Kay." Taylor yawned, letting herself be levered up and guided to the stairs. "Night, Mom."
"Good night, Taylor. I'll see you in the morning. Sleep in a bit, okay? There's no rush, we're almost done with the next module anyway."
"Sleep. Mmm, good idea."
"Do you need help getting back upstairs?" she asked, doing her best to hide the near automatic wince.
Taylor shook her head, the ghost of a smile flickering across her face, there and gone in a flash. "I'm much better at this now. At home at least. Love you, Mom."
"I love you too, sweetheart. Just shout if you need anything."
As her daughter shuffled off upstairs, she forced down the frustration and anger. It was a near constant companion now, and she was used to it. She had a channel for it now. It was useful. Turning back to the entryway, she grabbed for her bag, clutching it to her chest, and barely repressed a girlish giggle. She'd taken down Lung tonight! Lung! And she'd made in-roads with potential future lieutenants! And she'd — hopefully — shamed Armsmaster!
Justice was a long road, but this was an excellent start.
"You'd be proud of me, Lustrum," Annette whispered. "Just watch, I'm going to finish what you started."
Hostile Takeover Ch 1 - Reconnaissance 01
- Location
- Florida
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Reconnaissance 02
Annette hummed as she and Taylor worked through the math problems. Taylor's fingers flying over the page far faster than Annette's fumbling attempts to keep up. She should really switch to a regular book, but... she was trying to show solidarity and... she was going to have to switch to a regular book. How the Winslow 'administration' had the balls to say that Taylor had 'learning disabilities' was beyond her. If anything her daughter was progressing through the curriculum at an accelerated rate!
It certainly helped that her little girl didn't have to worry about stolen homework, persistent harassment, or destroyed projects anymore. A significant chunk of the issue was likely resolved right there. Even just her ability with these textbooks was proof enough of that. When Taylor managed to complete her GED in time for the lawsuit too, that would eviscerate the argument from the district about her being a 'bad student.'
Blackwell had no idea who she was fucking with if she thought Annette Hebert was just going to disappear quietly into the night.
"Mom, where did you go last night?" Taylor asked, her voice soft, light tapping resonating through the room as she switched to her small laptop to enter her answers.
Annette winced. "An… old friend had some advice for me. I didn't want to worry you though so I waited until it was a bit later at night before heading out." That was close enough to the truth that she didn't feel like she was lying per se.
"You didn't burn down Winslow did you?" Taylor's words were flippant, but the vein in her temple was twitching. "I think that might be a step too far, if only because you'd get caught and then we'd be in even more trouble."
She couldn't help the laugh that slipped past her lips. The irony of that — on so many levels. "Oh, honey, if you think I'd get caught doing a bit of light arson, I have not told you enough stories about my wild youth. But no, I wasn't burning down that cesspit. I never should have let you go there," she finished in a soft mutter. "Blackwell is going to wish I burned the place to the ground before I'm done with her."
Taylor didn't speak for several seconds. Only after she finished with her final question did her hands leave the keyboard and her head turn towards Annette. "I still don't understand why a lawyer is taking this when we can't pay them. We can't even pay the hospital bills. You're already stretched thin enough as it is and working nights now just so you can teach me too? This is — Mom you can't keep this up!"
Technically she was only teaching one class now instead of three, thank god for tenure. Her other 'night courses' were just cover for cape activities, but her daughter didn't need to worry about that. Not until Singularity was more established. Until she could protect them both more effectively. Until she could at least disappear them both if things came to a head.
"Pro bono work isn't as rare as you'd think, honey," Annette said. "And even then, I'm sure he's expecting a rather large payday when we win the case." That the PRT had stepped in to delay the suit, already tipped their hand and had driven every settlement offer through the roof. It also managed to point her directly at Shadow Stalker.
If there was one thing the government was good for, it was shining a light towards their own corruption.
"I'm worried about you going out at night, Mom," Taylor said. Her forehead creased as she frowned and her back was straight. That was better than she'd been. That was, that was good. It was certainly a marked improvement over the hospital when Taylor had been — white walls, bandaged eyes, a beeping EKG — despondent. Annette shuddered. "Brockton Bay isn't safe at night, not around here."
"We don't exactly live in the slums, sweetheart," Annette said. "But I know and I understand better than you think. Whenever I go out after dark you know that I'm careful. I have my air horn, I have my knife, and I have my phone. As should you."
Mace would have been smarter to keep with her, had she actually been going out wandering, but... That was certainly never going to happen. And she would sooner teach Taylor to become a karate master while blind than force her daughter to carry around that.
"Yeah, but with all the gangs, it's still dangerous."
"I know. And I promise it won't happen again." She tried not to wince over the straight up lie. She'd have to tell Taylor about Singularity sooner rather than later. She didn't want her daughter to worry, and really either way, she was going to do so. It was just a question of which was the bigger concern: being a cape, or wandering around alone at night as a civilian?
After she recruited the Undersiders, then she would bring Taylor into the fold.
"Alright. Thanks, Mom. I just… we already lost Dad. I can't lose you too."
Annette got up, circling the table and folding her daughter into her arms. Taylor rested her head against Annette's chest and the two clung together for several quiet moments before Annette murmured, "Don't worry, Taylor, I'm going to protect you this time. I'm going to fix this. All of this."
The wind chilled her bones as Annette climbed the thrift shop's fire escape. The Golden Martini was an interesting place — it also had the benefit of having just the right mix of accessibility and unimportance. She crested the lip and dropped onto the roof, starting the short walk to the center. Initially she'd assumed she would get there early, but apparently she had underestimated the teenagers' enthusiasm.
"Heh, pay up. Teach you to bet against a Thinker!" The pretty boy, lounging against the chimney, taunted. The buff black man next to him grunted as he pulled several bills out of his pocket and passed them over to the smirking blonde beside him.
"You bet against her too," he groused.
"Yeah, but I expected to lose. Yo! Money girl gets money!" He lobbed a wad of cash at her as well which she accepted with a small bow.
The muscular girl next to the blonde just grunted and inclined her head towards Annette.
Interesting.
"Hello again," their ostensible leader, Grue, stated. He stepped forward, extending his hand. At least he was less overtly terrified than last night. "Sorry about that, we didn't really think you were going to show up out of costume. Or early either."
Annette shook his hand, smirking. "Well it seems your Thinker has shown off that she has some small ability, perhaps you should listen to her. Shall we continue our discussion?"
"We'd love to." The young man waved behind him, encompassing his team. "We saw you take out Lung like it was a game. But we also saw that you needed to be close to do it. We can help; we can support you, give you a way in and out quickly. In return, you can support us: hit the big threats, and ensure nobody wants to fight us. With you running with us we can hit bigger targets, prevent retaliation, and make more money, faster, for everyone. Win, win, win."
He'd actually rehearsed that speech. That was adorable. So this was going to be a recruitment then. That was perfect.
"Having a team would certainly be an improvement," Annette said, crossing her arms and tapping her fingers on her biceps. "But the Undersiders are just a cute little smash-and-grab gang. You can't be making enough money to support five people. I have my family to think about if I'm getting into Supervillainry."
"That's the best part," Tattletale said, her smile cutting. Oh honey, be less obvious. "We get a stipend! Our boss helps find bigger targets for us sometimes too. Otherwise we get to choose our own and get bonuses for juicy info. A lot of times we get to tweak the noses of the assholes running things, or piss off the other capes by stealing from them."
Subtlety may be beneath her, but the girl was a decent enough Thinker. Hopefully. She had kept her team alive so far after all, which in a city as far gone as Brockton Bay did take some skill; especially when working around a hostile employer. Annette would have to talk with her later about laying subtext on too thick, but that was an easily addressed problem. Annette slowly nodded and the blonde inclined her head, their dance over.
"Does your group have limits?" Annette asked.
Grue nodded. "No killing, no serious injuries."
"And no rape." Regent commented, staring at his hand as he flexed his fingers.
"Do I really need to say that? Jesus!"
"Yeah, you do."
"Whatever." Grue turned back to her and spread his arms. "We split the proceeds from any jobs, get a retainer per month and usually get extra for each job we run. We might be able to start picking fights with the Heroes if you join up. You don't seem to have any love lost for the Protectorate and it would be really good for rep and money."
Annette looked to Bitch. The girl was still staring at Annette's feet, her face locked into a permanent frown, the muscles in her arms tense. "What about you? What do you think of this?"
"Whatever they say," she grunted. "Doesn't matter."
"You can have an opinion," Annette said, frowning.
Bitch's gaze raised slightly, but didn't get above her waist. Drawing the words out from her looked like it took physical force as her face scrunched up and her fists balled. But finally, she muttered, "If you want to lead, you can lead." She didn't say anything more, but she continued to quietly fume.
"I'd still be in charge, Bitch," Grue said, rubbing at his temples. Tattletale's amused snort didn't escape Annette's notice.
"Well," Annette said, her own smile widening, "I think I rather like the idea of this partnership. We'll have to discuss some of the finer details like dental and meeting the management I'm sure, but I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship."
Meeting the boss, knocking down another of the gang masters in Brockton Bay, taking over his operation… All an excellent start. Though, she would need more than just his former minions. She needed more adult support too. Parian was an easy place to start as she was a free agent and just needed a decent pitch job. And if the rumors were true about Assault and Madcap… she might just be able to grab the old hat back from the Protectorate. Kill two birds with one stone. She wouldn't even have to manipulate him. Madcap had been principled.
Lustrum had tried to handle everything by herself. Annette had done the same. And Taylor had suffered for it when she'd cracked under the pressure.
Never again.
Annette hummed as she and Taylor worked through the math problems. Taylor's fingers flying over the page far faster than Annette's fumbling attempts to keep up. She should really switch to a regular book, but... she was trying to show solidarity and... she was going to have to switch to a regular book. How the Winslow 'administration' had the balls to say that Taylor had 'learning disabilities' was beyond her. If anything her daughter was progressing through the curriculum at an accelerated rate!
It certainly helped that her little girl didn't have to worry about stolen homework, persistent harassment, or destroyed projects anymore. A significant chunk of the issue was likely resolved right there. Even just her ability with these textbooks was proof enough of that. When Taylor managed to complete her GED in time for the lawsuit too, that would eviscerate the argument from the district about her being a 'bad student.'
Blackwell had no idea who she was fucking with if she thought Annette Hebert was just going to disappear quietly into the night.
"Mom, where did you go last night?" Taylor asked, her voice soft, light tapping resonating through the room as she switched to her small laptop to enter her answers.
Annette winced. "An… old friend had some advice for me. I didn't want to worry you though so I waited until it was a bit later at night before heading out." That was close enough to the truth that she didn't feel like she was lying per se.
"You didn't burn down Winslow did you?" Taylor's words were flippant, but the vein in her temple was twitching. "I think that might be a step too far, if only because you'd get caught and then we'd be in even more trouble."
She couldn't help the laugh that slipped past her lips. The irony of that — on so many levels. "Oh, honey, if you think I'd get caught doing a bit of light arson, I have not told you enough stories about my wild youth. But no, I wasn't burning down that cesspit. I never should have let you go there," she finished in a soft mutter. "Blackwell is going to wish I burned the place to the ground before I'm done with her."
Taylor didn't speak for several seconds. Only after she finished with her final question did her hands leave the keyboard and her head turn towards Annette. "I still don't understand why a lawyer is taking this when we can't pay them. We can't even pay the hospital bills. You're already stretched thin enough as it is and working nights now just so you can teach me too? This is — Mom you can't keep this up!"
Technically she was only teaching one class now instead of three, thank god for tenure. Her other 'night courses' were just cover for cape activities, but her daughter didn't need to worry about that. Not until Singularity was more established. Until she could protect them both more effectively. Until she could at least disappear them both if things came to a head.
"Pro bono work isn't as rare as you'd think, honey," Annette said. "And even then, I'm sure he's expecting a rather large payday when we win the case." That the PRT had stepped in to delay the suit, already tipped their hand and had driven every settlement offer through the roof. It also managed to point her directly at Shadow Stalker.
If there was one thing the government was good for, it was shining a light towards their own corruption.
"I'm worried about you going out at night, Mom," Taylor said. Her forehead creased as she frowned and her back was straight. That was better than she'd been. That was, that was good. It was certainly a marked improvement over the hospital when Taylor had been — white walls, bandaged eyes, a beeping EKG — despondent. Annette shuddered. "Brockton Bay isn't safe at night, not around here."
"We don't exactly live in the slums, sweetheart," Annette said. "But I know and I understand better than you think. Whenever I go out after dark you know that I'm careful. I have my air horn, I have my knife, and I have my phone. As should you."
Mace would have been smarter to keep with her, had she actually been going out wandering, but... That was certainly never going to happen. And she would sooner teach Taylor to become a karate master while blind than force her daughter to carry around that.
"Yeah, but with all the gangs, it's still dangerous."
"I know. And I promise it won't happen again." She tried not to wince over the straight up lie. She'd have to tell Taylor about Singularity sooner rather than later. She didn't want her daughter to worry, and really either way, she was going to do so. It was just a question of which was the bigger concern: being a cape, or wandering around alone at night as a civilian?
After she recruited the Undersiders, then she would bring Taylor into the fold.
"Alright. Thanks, Mom. I just… we already lost Dad. I can't lose you too."
Annette got up, circling the table and folding her daughter into her arms. Taylor rested her head against Annette's chest and the two clung together for several quiet moments before Annette murmured, "Don't worry, Taylor, I'm going to protect you this time. I'm going to fix this. All of this."
The wind chilled her bones as Annette climbed the thrift shop's fire escape. The Golden Martini was an interesting place — it also had the benefit of having just the right mix of accessibility and unimportance. She crested the lip and dropped onto the roof, starting the short walk to the center. Initially she'd assumed she would get there early, but apparently she had underestimated the teenagers' enthusiasm.
"Heh, pay up. Teach you to bet against a Thinker!" The pretty boy, lounging against the chimney, taunted. The buff black man next to him grunted as he pulled several bills out of his pocket and passed them over to the smirking blonde beside him.
"You bet against her too," he groused.
"Yeah, but I expected to lose. Yo! Money girl gets money!" He lobbed a wad of cash at her as well which she accepted with a small bow.
The muscular girl next to the blonde just grunted and inclined her head towards Annette.
Interesting.
"Hello again," their ostensible leader, Grue, stated. He stepped forward, extending his hand. At least he was less overtly terrified than last night. "Sorry about that, we didn't really think you were going to show up out of costume. Or early either."
Annette shook his hand, smirking. "Well it seems your Thinker has shown off that she has some small ability, perhaps you should listen to her. Shall we continue our discussion?"
"We'd love to." The young man waved behind him, encompassing his team. "We saw you take out Lung like it was a game. But we also saw that you needed to be close to do it. We can help; we can support you, give you a way in and out quickly. In return, you can support us: hit the big threats, and ensure nobody wants to fight us. With you running with us we can hit bigger targets, prevent retaliation, and make more money, faster, for everyone. Win, win, win."
He'd actually rehearsed that speech. That was adorable. So this was going to be a recruitment then. That was perfect.
"Having a team would certainly be an improvement," Annette said, crossing her arms and tapping her fingers on her biceps. "But the Undersiders are just a cute little smash-and-grab gang. You can't be making enough money to support five people. I have my family to think about if I'm getting into Supervillainry."
"That's the best part," Tattletale said, her smile cutting. Oh honey, be less obvious. "We get a stipend! Our boss helps find bigger targets for us sometimes too. Otherwise we get to choose our own and get bonuses for juicy info. A lot of times we get to tweak the noses of the assholes running things, or piss off the other capes by stealing from them."
Subtlety may be beneath her, but the girl was a decent enough Thinker. Hopefully. She had kept her team alive so far after all, which in a city as far gone as Brockton Bay did take some skill; especially when working around a hostile employer. Annette would have to talk with her later about laying subtext on too thick, but that was an easily addressed problem. Annette slowly nodded and the blonde inclined her head, their dance over.
"Does your group have limits?" Annette asked.
Grue nodded. "No killing, no serious injuries."
"And no rape." Regent commented, staring at his hand as he flexed his fingers.
"Do I really need to say that? Jesus!"
"Yeah, you do."
"Whatever." Grue turned back to her and spread his arms. "We split the proceeds from any jobs, get a retainer per month and usually get extra for each job we run. We might be able to start picking fights with the Heroes if you join up. You don't seem to have any love lost for the Protectorate and it would be really good for rep and money."
Annette looked to Bitch. The girl was still staring at Annette's feet, her face locked into a permanent frown, the muscles in her arms tense. "What about you? What do you think of this?"
"Whatever they say," she grunted. "Doesn't matter."
"You can have an opinion," Annette said, frowning.
Bitch's gaze raised slightly, but didn't get above her waist. Drawing the words out from her looked like it took physical force as her face scrunched up and her fists balled. But finally, she muttered, "If you want to lead, you can lead." She didn't say anything more, but she continued to quietly fume.
"I'd still be in charge, Bitch," Grue said, rubbing at his temples. Tattletale's amused snort didn't escape Annette's notice.
"Well," Annette said, her own smile widening, "I think I rather like the idea of this partnership. We'll have to discuss some of the finer details like dental and meeting the management I'm sure, but I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship."
Meeting the boss, knocking down another of the gang masters in Brockton Bay, taking over his operation… All an excellent start. Though, she would need more than just his former minions. She needed more adult support too. Parian was an easy place to start as she was a free agent and just needed a decent pitch job. And if the rumors were true about Assault and Madcap… she might just be able to grab the old hat back from the Protectorate. Kill two birds with one stone. She wouldn't even have to manipulate him. Madcap had been principled.
Lustrum had tried to handle everything by herself. Annette had done the same. And Taylor had suffered for it when she'd cracked under the pressure.
Never again.
Hostile Takeover - Info
- Location
- Florida
- Pronouns
- He/Him
So I figured I should start something new and do a short info post after the initial few chapters of these snippets to explain the world/premise in my head a bit more. These are just some rough thoughts on the setting of course, so if there's major plot holes in them, that's not unexpected and partially why this hasn't graduated out of the snippet thread yet.
\/\/\/\/
Hostile Takeover Info
Divergence
In this setting, some of the initial things stayed the same. Danny died and Annette fell apart, though she still tried to stay involved in Taylor's life they drifted. Not as far as Danny, but enough that Taylor no longer talked to her about personal problems.
Annette knew that Taylor and Emma were no longer friends, she did not get enough details from Taylor and when she spoke with the Barnes' they all had a falling out from the yelling match. The result was Annette fell further into depression with less friends standing with her, and Taylor, in an effort not to bring up old wounds, didn't tell her about the bullying at school.
During Annette's depression, yes, she was doing everything herself. She was making the meals, doing the finances, working with extra classes, trying to handle project assistances, dealing with hold over problems that Danny had been handling, later personally handling the continual complaints that were leveled by her feud with the Barnes. The more depressed she was, the more she tried to fix things herself and the less it worked and the more alienated she was.
Taylor's Injury
Madison knew that Annette was a college teacher, she was worried about what they were doing potentially affecting her applications. When Emma suggested the locker, Madison tried to steer them away from that, thinking for sure Annette's school would hear about it and then every college would. She suggested instead just spritzing Taylor with a spray bottle instead. To her, she was suggesting something small that was basically what they had been doing anyway, but Emma and Sophia would think it was worse since they'd never done it.
The problem was that Sophia took that and ran with it. Instead of water, she decided it was going to be a cleaning solution.
Whatever chemicals Sophia ended up using blinded Taylor in the middle of the school hallway.
Fallout
An investigation was started and concluded in about a day from the school, saying that it was just a prank gone wrong, no punishments outside of a week of suspension. Annette had by this time retrieved Taylor's notebooks and was talking to attorneys. When the school refused to even consider the history of well-documented bullying being a factor, Annette stopped talking to them and sued. The PRT took over the school's suit before the day was out and Annette's attorney's sensed blood, while she sensed a parahuman involved.
She checked into Blackwell, found nothing, she checked into Emma, found nothing, she checked into Sophia, found Shadow Stalker. Annette tailed Shadow Stalker long enough to see her killing one of the Empire thugs.
She was already against the Protectorate because of Battery. Now they were attempting to either stonewall or quietly settle a case involving one of their Wards. A Ward who had blinded her daughter and was still out on patrol. Annette resolved she was going to do get rid of them all in that case and impose her own rules and standards. Lustrum had tried to be a figurehead, starting a movement. Annette was going to take it further, she was going to be a leader.
She was going to take over the Bay, then the East Coast. The west had the Elite. The east would have her.
Triggers
Annette triggered in the hospital. When she heard that Taylor's eyes wouldn't recover, and that Panacea was unlikely to get to someone not in critical condition for years - if ever - and heard Taylor tell her about the bullying. Annette realized how she had failed and broke, wanting nothing more than to hurt the people who had hurt her child.
Her power is mostly a trump based ability, with a minor brute factor. She can extend whispy swirls of dark void from her hands, extending about 3-6 inches from her skin. If the darkness touches a person, it can 'infect' them. The longer they stay in contact, the further the energy spreads in the victim. The power drains them of energy and, if they are a cape, also suppresses their powers. While against a human the power would just knock someone out, against a cape, the power spreads farther and she can literally kill with her touch if she stays latched on long enough.
She can technically hit multiple people at once because only one whisp needs to hit each person, but the targets have to be pretty close for that work in practice.
Her brute aspect mostly just leaves her slightly more durable, agile, and faster; nothing higher than a 2 in PRT assessments and even that would probably be pushing it. Her shard wanted her to be able to do something with her powers since it's such short range and so threw in a standard package of default abilities.
The shard is a bud from Lustrum, repurposing her energy drain thing. Since Annette triggered near Taylor, it pinged off of QA, hence the multiple of whisps. QA was still mostly inactive though, so it really didn't help Annette much.
Taylor has not yet triggered.
Miscellaneous Items
Taylor and Madison actually hang out now. Madison blames herself for Taylor being blind and has been trying to make up for it. She is still a bitch. She is working on that. Taylor is uncomfortable about the whole thing, but honestly just likes having someone to talk to who isn't avoiding her, so is giving it a shot.
Taylor is being homeschooled, that was what the modules note was talking about.
Annette considers Sophia a murderer, and Battery as good as one. While Madcap might still be alive, he had to leave everything in his old life behind and his jailor is right next to him every step of the way.
Emma is still walking around Winslow, but is no longer the head of her circle. Her psyche is fraying.
Piggot is aware Sophia messed up. She won't take her off patrols until the legal issues go far enough though, because she doesn't think Sophia is a flight risk and they still need to sort out the details of just what the hell happened. With luck, she might also give Shadow Stalker enough rope to hang Sophia Hess.
Future Plans
Annette intends to recruit Parian first. Then she'll deal with Tattletale's boss, subsuming his resources. During this time she expects to get Oni Lee off the table, and either subsume or kill the new ABB tinker too.
Once she's consolidated, she'll wipe Empire, using her new crew as backup.
This does not initially go as smoothly as she'd hoped. While still finishing up with Oni Lee/Bakuda, Coil kidnaps Taylor, intending to hold her hostage against Annette.
Annette is very not happy about this obviously. Unfortunately for Coil, while Annette is storming his base, he managed to trigger Taylor. The feedback knocks out his dual reality as QA pings off him, leaving him stuck starting again from inside the base, with Annette right there and Taylor having just triggered. He doesn't make it out.
From here, Taylor would become Annette's right hand, Lisa would become their primary thinker and unofficial left hand, Rachel and Parian would be the main muscle. Around here is when Annette would be trying to get Assault.
The end state goal would be for her to essentially grow their organization large enough to become the new version of the Elite.
Taylor's Power
For Taylor, she would effectively be a combat thinker. She can read people's actions and intentions in a large radius around her, about two blocks. When she learns how to read lips, she can start to use that to 'hear' conversations in the same radius. Because it's based on intention, actual incompetence or random chance trips this up. Someone can mean to throw a knife at you, but fumble to toss for instance. She's an extremely dangerous melee fighter for all intents and purposes (especially on her home turf) since while she doesn't have precog, it's the next best thing. Fighting in unfamiliar territory is still very dangerous for her though as she is still blind and interpreting the geometry of the ground around her from people's intentions on where they walk or where they step up/down is not remotely foolproof.
\/\/\/\/
Hostile Takeover Info
Divergence
In this setting, some of the initial things stayed the same. Danny died and Annette fell apart, though she still tried to stay involved in Taylor's life they drifted. Not as far as Danny, but enough that Taylor no longer talked to her about personal problems.
Annette knew that Taylor and Emma were no longer friends, she did not get enough details from Taylor and when she spoke with the Barnes' they all had a falling out from the yelling match. The result was Annette fell further into depression with less friends standing with her, and Taylor, in an effort not to bring up old wounds, didn't tell her about the bullying at school.
During Annette's depression, yes, she was doing everything herself. She was making the meals, doing the finances, working with extra classes, trying to handle project assistances, dealing with hold over problems that Danny had been handling, later personally handling the continual complaints that were leveled by her feud with the Barnes. The more depressed she was, the more she tried to fix things herself and the less it worked and the more alienated she was.
Taylor's Injury
Madison knew that Annette was a college teacher, she was worried about what they were doing potentially affecting her applications. When Emma suggested the locker, Madison tried to steer them away from that, thinking for sure Annette's school would hear about it and then every college would. She suggested instead just spritzing Taylor with a spray bottle instead. To her, she was suggesting something small that was basically what they had been doing anyway, but Emma and Sophia would think it was worse since they'd never done it.
The problem was that Sophia took that and ran with it. Instead of water, she decided it was going to be a cleaning solution.
Whatever chemicals Sophia ended up using blinded Taylor in the middle of the school hallway.
Fallout
An investigation was started and concluded in about a day from the school, saying that it was just a prank gone wrong, no punishments outside of a week of suspension. Annette had by this time retrieved Taylor's notebooks and was talking to attorneys. When the school refused to even consider the history of well-documented bullying being a factor, Annette stopped talking to them and sued. The PRT took over the school's suit before the day was out and Annette's attorney's sensed blood, while she sensed a parahuman involved.
She checked into Blackwell, found nothing, she checked into Emma, found nothing, she checked into Sophia, found Shadow Stalker. Annette tailed Shadow Stalker long enough to see her killing one of the Empire thugs.
She was already against the Protectorate because of Battery. Now they were attempting to either stonewall or quietly settle a case involving one of their Wards. A Ward who had blinded her daughter and was still out on patrol. Annette resolved she was going to do get rid of them all in that case and impose her own rules and standards. Lustrum had tried to be a figurehead, starting a movement. Annette was going to take it further, she was going to be a leader.
She was going to take over the Bay, then the East Coast. The west had the Elite. The east would have her.
Triggers
Annette triggered in the hospital. When she heard that Taylor's eyes wouldn't recover, and that Panacea was unlikely to get to someone not in critical condition for years - if ever - and heard Taylor tell her about the bullying. Annette realized how she had failed and broke, wanting nothing more than to hurt the people who had hurt her child.
Her power is mostly a trump based ability, with a minor brute factor. She can extend whispy swirls of dark void from her hands, extending about 3-6 inches from her skin. If the darkness touches a person, it can 'infect' them. The longer they stay in contact, the further the energy spreads in the victim. The power drains them of energy and, if they are a cape, also suppresses their powers. While against a human the power would just knock someone out, against a cape, the power spreads farther and she can literally kill with her touch if she stays latched on long enough.
She can technically hit multiple people at once because only one whisp needs to hit each person, but the targets have to be pretty close for that work in practice.
Her brute aspect mostly just leaves her slightly more durable, agile, and faster; nothing higher than a 2 in PRT assessments and even that would probably be pushing it. Her shard wanted her to be able to do something with her powers since it's such short range and so threw in a standard package of default abilities.
The shard is a bud from Lustrum, repurposing her energy drain thing. Since Annette triggered near Taylor, it pinged off of QA, hence the multiple of whisps. QA was still mostly inactive though, so it really didn't help Annette much.
Taylor has not yet triggered.
Miscellaneous Items
Taylor and Madison actually hang out now. Madison blames herself for Taylor being blind and has been trying to make up for it. She is still a bitch. She is working on that. Taylor is uncomfortable about the whole thing, but honestly just likes having someone to talk to who isn't avoiding her, so is giving it a shot.
Taylor is being homeschooled, that was what the modules note was talking about.
Annette considers Sophia a murderer, and Battery as good as one. While Madcap might still be alive, he had to leave everything in his old life behind and his jailor is right next to him every step of the way.
Emma is still walking around Winslow, but is no longer the head of her circle. Her psyche is fraying.
Piggot is aware Sophia messed up. She won't take her off patrols until the legal issues go far enough though, because she doesn't think Sophia is a flight risk and they still need to sort out the details of just what the hell happened. With luck, she might also give Shadow Stalker enough rope to hang Sophia Hess.
Future Plans
Annette intends to recruit Parian first. Then she'll deal with Tattletale's boss, subsuming his resources. During this time she expects to get Oni Lee off the table, and either subsume or kill the new ABB tinker too.
Once she's consolidated, she'll wipe Empire, using her new crew as backup.
This does not initially go as smoothly as she'd hoped. While still finishing up with Oni Lee/Bakuda, Coil kidnaps Taylor, intending to hold her hostage against Annette.
Annette is very not happy about this obviously. Unfortunately for Coil, while Annette is storming his base, he managed to trigger Taylor. The feedback knocks out his dual reality as QA pings off him, leaving him stuck starting again from inside the base, with Annette right there and Taylor having just triggered. He doesn't make it out.
From here, Taylor would become Annette's right hand, Lisa would become their primary thinker and unofficial left hand, Rachel and Parian would be the main muscle. Around here is when Annette would be trying to get Assault.
The end state goal would be for her to essentially grow their organization large enough to become the new version of the Elite.
Taylor's Power
For Taylor, she would effectively be a combat thinker. She can read people's actions and intentions in a large radius around her, about two blocks. When she learns how to read lips, she can start to use that to 'hear' conversations in the same radius. Because it's based on intention, actual incompetence or random chance trips this up. Someone can mean to throw a knife at you, but fumble to toss for instance. She's an extremely dangerous melee fighter for all intents and purposes (especially on her home turf) since while she doesn't have precog, it's the next best thing. Fighting in unfamiliar territory is still very dangerous for her though as she is still blind and interpreting the geometry of the ground around her from people's intentions on where they walk or where they step up/down is not remotely foolproof.
Labels
- Location
- Florida
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Summary: In an alternate world without powers, Taylor and Lisa still wind up living together and taking in Dinah. Yet what exactly is their relationship? Taylor's been trying to get that answer for a long time. She's about ready to give up.
Labels
Lisa paced, reading the words on her tablet for the third time in a row. For the third time, they just swam in front of her eyes, none of them making sense. She sucked air through her teeth, avoiding cursing by the barest of margins.
"You're going to damage the rug if you keep walking like that," Dinah commented, her head peering around the corner leading to her room. "At least sit down and brood. That rug was $1,800."
"It's not like we can't afford a replacement. The craftsmanship was shit anyway if a bit of pacing is going to wear it out. And I'm not brooding!"
Dinah's eyebrows arched. "Mom, you brood better than Aisha." She shook her head and disappeared, presumably heading back to her room.
Lisa didn't spare another thought for the teenager. Dinah could take care of herself. She had to get through this research. They had another job coming up, she had to be ready to set the plan in motion, to start the dominos, to push on the right levers. People were easy. People were predictable. People were idiots. People were simple to manipulate.
Why was it so hard to focus?!
"Brian asked me out on a date," Taylor stated. The casualness of that bomb had Lisa nearly spitting out her coffee. But she was experienced. She was used to curve balls. If their cons had taught her anything, it was how to hold a straight face.
"Oh?" Brian? Brian of all people? That little muscle-for-brains asshole?
"This Friday. Two days from now."
Lisa was very good at holding a straight face. "Cool. Good for him. I didn't think he had it in him."
Taylor stared at her. She set her tea mug down, clasped her hands and stayed perfectly still. It was eerie how Taylor was able to do that. Lisa had never met anyone else who could just… stop. "Is that all you have to say, Sarah?"
Oh she was pissed. Taylor only ever called her by her old name when she was angry. Well, two could play that game.
"I'm sure you'll have a ton of fun, Tay," Lisa said, her Job Smirk firmly in place. Never let them see you. Rule one of mentalists: always wear the mask.
Taylor did not move. Lisa wasn't even sure she was breathing. She was starting to get actively worried when Taylor finally broke the silent stand-off, reaching her mug and standing in one smooth motion. "It's at 6pm."
"Okay. I'll help with your makeup, we both know you suck at that." Stop Lisa. Stop, stop, stop.
Taylor stumbled, thankfully she was close enough to the sink that she could grab it with her free hand. The mug survived the near-tumble too. Lisa could have reached out, caught her elbow, helped her stand again.
But… Brian?
"Dinah can help me. You have the Forsberg job to prepare for. I'm going out, I need to buy a dress."
Lisa watched the door slam, Taylor losing some of her careful control at the last moment. Only then did she look towards the hall and see Dinah staring at her, a scowl on her young face.
"What do you want, pipsqueak? I'm working."
"You both are assholes," Dinah scoffed, twisting on her heel and stalking back to her room.
"Language!" Teenagers. Lisa was barely out of her teens herself and she already couldn't stand the little obnoxious menaces.
No matter how many accurate points they made.
The door to their apartment slammed, startling Lisa out of her memories. She jerked upright, head snapping to the side, only marginally relaxing as she caught sight of Taylor. Taylor in a little red dress. It didn't match her hair. It didn't accent her features. It, frankly, looked awful compared to the black dress she usually favored when going out with Dinah and Lisa. The only thing that red getup was doing for her was showing off her legs. Granted, Taylor's legs were beautiful. But that was not enough to save the crime that had been committed.
Deep, deep down, Lisa silently nodded, knowing that It Was Only Right that Brian got to see Taylor in the red dress instead of the black one.
"How did it go? You two have fun?" Lisa asked.
Lisa, stop. Stop, please, just… stop…
"We did. It was a perfectly pleasant evening. We have another set up for Monday." Taylor replied, her gaze locked on Lisa, only drifting down to her tablet for a single moment. Was she still on the same page as earlier? As yesterday? As Wednesday? Crap…
"Well as long as you both aren't kissing on the job." LISA, STOP!
Taylor's fist clenched and her eyes closed, her shoulders slumping. "Ah. So, that's that then."
Every instinct Lisa had screamed at her. The bridge was rickety, the suspension lines were frayed. The boat had a leak.
Why couldn't she grab the goddamn bucket? Why, why did the thought terrify her?
She opened her jaw to say… something. Yet, no words came out, only an extremely dry mouth empty air. She was the mentalist of the crew. She was never out of words. She tried again.
Whether she would have succeeded or not was a mystery for the ages, because that was the moment that Dinah interrupted them. The precocious menace barged into the living room, suitcase in hand. She took one look at both of them, snorted and dropped her bag by the front door.
Taylor raised her eyebrows. "Going somewhere, kiddo?"
"I'm staying at Missy's tonight. You, couch. Now."
Taylor's lips quirked upwards and she humored the girl, striding forward to sit down. "Okay. Why?"
"Because both of my moms are stubborn idiots who can't talk to save their lives. This is an intervention. I'm going to Missy's, you both are going to sit here and talk. If something isn't resolved by the time I get home tomorrow, I'm going to go on a shopping spree and waste all of the money that we're going to rip off from Forsberg next weekend."
"Why did we let her on the crew again?" Lisa asked, laughing.
"Because I'm better at quick math than all of you jerks put together and am the only one who can hack security. Now, talk."
Taylor leaned back, staring up at Dinah. "You know, if you keep hanging out with Missy, she's eventually going to figure out you're with the crew. That's not going to end well and we might have to move." There wasn't much actual rebuke in the statement. Taylor was just stating something that everyone had warned the kid about time and again. Not that anyone could tie anything to them, but still, Dinah would lose a friend and —
"Who says I haven't already told her?"
Or not.
"Wait, what?" Lisa didn't blame Taylor for the lack of elegance, she was just grateful that the leggy brunette had beaten her to the confused utterance.
"As long as we stick to white collar stuff, Missy is looking the other way. She's not about to lose a friend over some executives missing a zero for the quarter when she knows she won't even be able to prove it. We have a rep for a reason. Are we done? We're done. I'm leaving. Talk!"
Dinah was out the door before either woman could do more than raise a finger. Both slowly lowered it and turned to stare at each other from across the coffee table.
Lisa caved first this time. "I think we went wrong somewhere with that girl. She doesn't talk like a teenager anymore."
"You were the one who said we could raise her better than the social workers." Taylor sighed, rubbing her temples. She dropped her hand, the watch on her wrist catching the light and bringing a scowl to her face. She ripped it off and threw it to the side.
"That was a $15,000 watch."
"I don't care about the fucking watch, Lisa!" Taylor snapped. "I care about —" She cut herself off, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Lisa gave her time, setting her tablet down and folding her hands in her lap to wait. "I can't keep doing this, Lisa. I just can't. I'm sorry, but I can't. I'm tired, I'm so tired."
"Tired of what? We have a good thing going here, Tay."
"Don't, don't call me that. Not right now." Taylor leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling. "What do we have going on, Lisa? I'm not being rhetorical. I am actually asking a serious question."
Lisa's guts clenched, and it was only through long practice that she was able to prevent her face from showing her internal wince. "We're partners."
"But we're not," Taylor sighed. "We live together. We sleep in the same bed. We raise a daughter together. We know each other's routines and patterns. We go out to dinner, we go out to movies, we go bowling."
"Exactly, we're —"
Taylor cut her off and with each word Lisa got sicker and sicker. "I'm not done, Lisa. We do all of these things. As far as I know, we're together, we've been together since I turned 16. And yet, every time it comes up, every time, Lisa, you always, always, immediately correct people. 'Oh we're not dating. She's not my girlfriend. She's not my wife. We're just friends.' It doesn't matter if it's the cashier at the food store, Dinah, me. Your answer is always the same: we're just friends."
Because Taylor wanted so much. She wanted the whole package and that was… Lisa wasn't even sure she could give that to herself let alone to anyone else!
Lisa licked her lips, her knuckles white as she clenched her hands hard enough to cut off circulation. "Taylor, you know I don't like labels." She tried to smile, but she couldn't find the Job Smirk no matter how hard she tried.
"Will you just talk to me? Please?" Taylor asked, still staring at the ceiling.
"Why did you go on a date with Brian?" Lisa asked, her voice firm. If 'firm' included 'wavering and warbling.'
"Because every time you tell someone that we're not together you drive a knife into my back, Lisa." Taylor finally dropped her head. Lisa wished she hadn't. "I'm tired of being hurt. I'm tired of not knowing where I stand. I'm tired of not knowing if I mean as much to you as you mean to me."
It was hard to swallow. It was hard to breathe. She tasted blood in her mouth. When she spoke, her voice sounded about as strong as she felt. "I'm not sure if I can give you what you want, Taylor. You know I don't really see relationships the same way that most people do."
Taylor scowled and all Lisa wanted to do was curl up into a little ball. "I don't care about the sex." It wasn't the sex. She could have sex with Taylor. She wouldn't get much out of it, but she could. It was never about the sex. Had she ever… told her friend that? "Sure, sex would be nice, but I don't want sex. I want you, Lisa! I just, I want what we have! Why is this so hard? Nothing changes! I just want to be able to introduce you as my partner. My girlfriend. When someone asks if I have a significant other I don't want you to jump in and immediately deny it! Literally nothing would change except that!"
But it would be a level of commitment. A step forward. Admitting that she was willing to spend her life with someone else, trying to make them happy. It would be admitting that Taylor was different than most of the people she had ever met. That she pushed buttons Lisa hadn't been aware she'd even had before meeting the woman across from her.
Was she ready for that?
Was she ever going to be ready for that?
"You shouldn't date Brian," Lisa whispered.
"Why?" Taylor asked, her voice just as quiet, but her tone sharp, defiant.
"Dating people in the crew is bad for business. It could go wrong. Get us all caught." Great job, Lisa. Just… stellar argument there.
"Bullshit."
"I mean it. I —"
Taylor scoffed. "Jack's Nine has at least one permanent married couple, and three or four rotating couples. They're one of the most successful crews in the country."
"Yeah but —"
"The Knights have Dragon and Defiant. They're the premier crew on this coast. They've been married since they started running jobs."
"I just…" Nothing would change. They were already together. She was already romantic with Taylor. Her partner already put up with her quirks. Taylor wasn't going away. She wasn't. Not as long as Lisa was willing to accept it. She just… she just needed to accept it.
"You shouldn't date Brian." The protest was weak, even to her own ears.
"Tell me why, Lisa." Taylor. Her Implacable Woman. Her Superwoman. She was never going to let this drop.
"Because I don't want…" her voice hitched. Taylor leaned forward, eyes wide, hands spread. Lisa's guts clenched, and she tasted blood again. "… there to be division in the crew," she finished, barely above a whisper.
Taylor closed her eyes, leaning back, the couch taking her full weight as she slumped. They both fell silent. Lisa didn't know how long it lasted. Too long.
"I'm going to stay with my dad. I'll grab my things over the weekend. Dinah will split the difference. She'll stay here Monday through Wednesday, with me Thursday and Friday. We'll swap weekends and holidays."
Lisa couldn't breathe. The walls closed in around her as Taylor stood up, heading for their bedroom. She tried to speak, but nothing came out. The door was closed before she could manage to utter anything. It was barely loud enough for her own ears, certainly not loud enough for Taylor to hear.
"Wait. Tay? Wait…"
The car purred, the engine leaving a very reassuring vibration running through Lisa. It gave her an excuse for the shaking in her hands.
"Are you going to get out?" Dinah asked.
Lisa glared at her adopted daughter. "How do I know you're not going to drive away and leave me here the moment I step out of the car?"
"Learner's permit." There was not enough sarcasm in the world to explain how much Dinah had packed into those two words. "I'm not about to be pulled over by some idiot cop for driving without an adult in the car."
"Smart kid," Lisa muttered.
"Now are you going to get out before they go in or do I have to ram the restaurant?"
Lisa stared at the girl, blinking rapidly. "Holy shit, you're not even kidding. Christ, we went wrong somewhere, you're a menace, pipsqueak."
"You have only yourself to blame! Now get!"
"I need to ground you more," Lisa muttered. She still opened the door and stalked away from the car. She knew she looked like a mess. But she at least had let Dinah fix her makeup before they'd left home. That was something. Taylor had never cared for her looks away.
They'd probably have to push the job after this though, one way or the other. This was her own mess and she had to clean it up. It was a fair price to pay. She could go without the thrill of sticking it to the rich assholes for another few weeks.
The line for the restaurant came up on her far quicker than she had planned. She wasn't ready. She'd forgotten her lines. This wasn't right. She wasn't ready. She couldn't give Taylor what she deserved. She —
"… nothing would change…"
Lisa let out the breath she had been holding, unclenched her fists, and stood up straight as an arrow. She didn't bother with her smirk.
Brian saw her before Taylor did. The muscly brute crossed his arms and tried to stare her down. Good luck on that buddy. She'd met Taylor's stare and came away unflinching before, to say nothing of dealing with the budding nightmare that was Dinah.
Taylor turned just as Lisa came to a halt right behind her. The woman's eyebrows rose, though Taylor was able to school the rest of her reaction quickly enough. "Hi, Lisa. Fancy meeting you here."
"Please come home, Taylor," Lisa said. That wasn't the right line. That wasn't what she had practiced. But her voice was steady and she was audible. It would do. "You were right, I was wrong. I've been awful to you, and I've put you through so much. You deserve better, but I'm a selfish bitch. I don't want to let you go. Don't go out with Brian. Come home."
"What the hell is this?" Brian asked. Lisa spared him a single glance. His eyes were narrowed to slits and his hands had dropped to his sides, fists clenched. Lisa dismissed him. He was a brute but he wasn't about to start throwing punches in public.
"Nothing's changed, Lisa," Taylor said. She didn't meet Lisa's eyes, instead keeping her gaze focused on the sidewalk.
"You're right." Lisa stepped forward. One hand reached forward to cup Taylor's cheek. "Except you got the tense wrong. Nothing will change. We're already dating. We're already partners. You're already my girlfriend. You have been for years. I'm worried, I'm scared, but I'm not scared enough to lose you. Come home."
Taylor's head snapped up, her eyes locking onto Lisa's. "I'm —"
"My girlfriend. You are. I'll prove it." She moved her hand to the back of Taylor's neck, gently pulling her forward. Taylor's lips parted with a soft gasp of surprise before the sound was muffled by Lisa's own.
It wasn't heavenly. The Earth didn't move. It wasn't like the stories had said. But it wasn't awful like she'd feared. It was… nice. She could easily get used to this.
"You bitch."
Lisa broke away from her girlfriend — her girlfriend, oh dear lord, what had happened to the world? — and glared at Brian. "Excuse me. We're trying to have a moment here."
"I wasn't talking to you," he snapped. "Everyone knows you're a cold-hearted cunt. I didn't expect the same from you, Taylor. You were just using me to get back at your side-piece!"
The people in line nearby quietly gasped, subtly moving away and opening up space around Brian. Lisa silently laughed at their no-longer-subtle eavesdropping. It seemed some slurs still got reactions from everyone.
Taylor slowly, deliberately turned from Lisa, facing Brian head on. "I'm sorry you feel that way. That was not my intent. You get the one insult for free, because you're right, she shouldn't have done this here, in public. Walk away, Brian, and we call it done. Keep going and I take it personally."
Brian was about to snap another insult off when his brain seemed to catch up with his mouth. He just scowled, flipping the two of them off, and stalking away.
Taylor sighed, shaking her head. She grabbed Lisa's arm and walked away through the crowd, heading toward the idling car with the teenager staring out at them from the driver's seat. "Dinah put you up to this didn't she?"
"I'll have you know it was my idea," Lisa grumbled. "We're going to need a new muscleman."
"For the record, you should have met me at my dad's, not in the restaurant line." Taylor popped the door open and the two slid into the back, Dinah looking at them from the rear-view mirror.
"I told her that!"
"This seemed more dramatic," Lisa said, wincing. "Also, it took awhile for the squirt to get me out of the house."
Dinah nodded, her smile barely hidden. "Can confirm, she was a mess. Everything good?"
"We'll have to talk more, but for the moment, yeah, I'll come home. And, well, yeah this was pretty dramatic. You do get points for that, Lisa." Taylor shrugged. "And don't worry about the muscleman. I already have one lined up."
Lisa gaped. "You what?"
"He goes by Browbeat. He's a bodybuilder, real quiet usually. I actually think he might fit in better than Brian. He fades into the background really easily. The guy can pull double duty as both a muscleman and recon."
Lisa stared. "I love you, Taylor Hebert."
Taylor nearly glowed. "That. Is what I've been waiting for, Lisa."
Lisa leaned over, dropping her head onto Taylor's shoulder. "I'm sorry I couldn't say it earlier."
"Take all the time you need. I just wanted to know how you felt. That's all I ever wanted."
"I'm going to make sure you keep hearing it from me, loud and clear, every day from now on."
Taylor deserved that and so much more. After all, she had been right: nothing was going to change, just the label.
Sarah, Lisa, she was good at labels. If Taylor wanted a particular one for their relationship, then Lisa would do her damnedest to live up to it.
Their family was worth it.
AN: Dysole told me she was "writing a sad smugbug thing" and I went, "Ah, yes. I must write a happy smugbug thing in response!" How that became this in under a day I have no idea.
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Lisa paced, reading the words on her tablet for the third time in a row. For the third time, they just swam in front of her eyes, none of them making sense. She sucked air through her teeth, avoiding cursing by the barest of margins.
"You're going to damage the rug if you keep walking like that," Dinah commented, her head peering around the corner leading to her room. "At least sit down and brood. That rug was $1,800."
"It's not like we can't afford a replacement. The craftsmanship was shit anyway if a bit of pacing is going to wear it out. And I'm not brooding!"
Dinah's eyebrows arched. "Mom, you brood better than Aisha." She shook her head and disappeared, presumably heading back to her room.
Lisa didn't spare another thought for the teenager. Dinah could take care of herself. She had to get through this research. They had another job coming up, she had to be ready to set the plan in motion, to start the dominos, to push on the right levers. People were easy. People were predictable. People were idiots. People were simple to manipulate.
Why was it so hard to focus?!
"Brian asked me out on a date," Taylor stated. The casualness of that bomb had Lisa nearly spitting out her coffee. But she was experienced. She was used to curve balls. If their cons had taught her anything, it was how to hold a straight face.
"Oh?" Brian? Brian of all people? That little muscle-for-brains asshole?
"This Friday. Two days from now."
Lisa was very good at holding a straight face. "Cool. Good for him. I didn't think he had it in him."
Taylor stared at her. She set her tea mug down, clasped her hands and stayed perfectly still. It was eerie how Taylor was able to do that. Lisa had never met anyone else who could just… stop. "Is that all you have to say, Sarah?"
Oh she was pissed. Taylor only ever called her by her old name when she was angry. Well, two could play that game.
"I'm sure you'll have a ton of fun, Tay," Lisa said, her Job Smirk firmly in place. Never let them see you. Rule one of mentalists: always wear the mask.
Taylor did not move. Lisa wasn't even sure she was breathing. She was starting to get actively worried when Taylor finally broke the silent stand-off, reaching her mug and standing in one smooth motion. "It's at 6pm."
"Okay. I'll help with your makeup, we both know you suck at that." Stop Lisa. Stop, stop, stop.
Taylor stumbled, thankfully she was close enough to the sink that she could grab it with her free hand. The mug survived the near-tumble too. Lisa could have reached out, caught her elbow, helped her stand again.
But… Brian?
"Dinah can help me. You have the Forsberg job to prepare for. I'm going out, I need to buy a dress."
Lisa watched the door slam, Taylor losing some of her careful control at the last moment. Only then did she look towards the hall and see Dinah staring at her, a scowl on her young face.
"What do you want, pipsqueak? I'm working."
"You both are assholes," Dinah scoffed, twisting on her heel and stalking back to her room.
"Language!" Teenagers. Lisa was barely out of her teens herself and she already couldn't stand the little obnoxious menaces.
No matter how many accurate points they made.
The door to their apartment slammed, startling Lisa out of her memories. She jerked upright, head snapping to the side, only marginally relaxing as she caught sight of Taylor. Taylor in a little red dress. It didn't match her hair. It didn't accent her features. It, frankly, looked awful compared to the black dress she usually favored when going out with Dinah and Lisa. The only thing that red getup was doing for her was showing off her legs. Granted, Taylor's legs were beautiful. But that was not enough to save the crime that had been committed.
Deep, deep down, Lisa silently nodded, knowing that It Was Only Right that Brian got to see Taylor in the red dress instead of the black one.
"How did it go? You two have fun?" Lisa asked.
Lisa, stop. Stop, please, just… stop…
"We did. It was a perfectly pleasant evening. We have another set up for Monday." Taylor replied, her gaze locked on Lisa, only drifting down to her tablet for a single moment. Was she still on the same page as earlier? As yesterday? As Wednesday? Crap…
"Well as long as you both aren't kissing on the job." LISA, STOP!
Taylor's fist clenched and her eyes closed, her shoulders slumping. "Ah. So, that's that then."
Every instinct Lisa had screamed at her. The bridge was rickety, the suspension lines were frayed. The boat had a leak.
Why couldn't she grab the goddamn bucket? Why, why did the thought terrify her?
She opened her jaw to say… something. Yet, no words came out, only an extremely dry mouth empty air. She was the mentalist of the crew. She was never out of words. She tried again.
Whether she would have succeeded or not was a mystery for the ages, because that was the moment that Dinah interrupted them. The precocious menace barged into the living room, suitcase in hand. She took one look at both of them, snorted and dropped her bag by the front door.
Taylor raised her eyebrows. "Going somewhere, kiddo?"
"I'm staying at Missy's tonight. You, couch. Now."
Taylor's lips quirked upwards and she humored the girl, striding forward to sit down. "Okay. Why?"
"Because both of my moms are stubborn idiots who can't talk to save their lives. This is an intervention. I'm going to Missy's, you both are going to sit here and talk. If something isn't resolved by the time I get home tomorrow, I'm going to go on a shopping spree and waste all of the money that we're going to rip off from Forsberg next weekend."
"Why did we let her on the crew again?" Lisa asked, laughing.
"Because I'm better at quick math than all of you jerks put together and am the only one who can hack security. Now, talk."
Taylor leaned back, staring up at Dinah. "You know, if you keep hanging out with Missy, she's eventually going to figure out you're with the crew. That's not going to end well and we might have to move." There wasn't much actual rebuke in the statement. Taylor was just stating something that everyone had warned the kid about time and again. Not that anyone could tie anything to them, but still, Dinah would lose a friend and —
"Who says I haven't already told her?"
Or not.
"Wait, what?" Lisa didn't blame Taylor for the lack of elegance, she was just grateful that the leggy brunette had beaten her to the confused utterance.
"As long as we stick to white collar stuff, Missy is looking the other way. She's not about to lose a friend over some executives missing a zero for the quarter when she knows she won't even be able to prove it. We have a rep for a reason. Are we done? We're done. I'm leaving. Talk!"
Dinah was out the door before either woman could do more than raise a finger. Both slowly lowered it and turned to stare at each other from across the coffee table.
Lisa caved first this time. "I think we went wrong somewhere with that girl. She doesn't talk like a teenager anymore."
"You were the one who said we could raise her better than the social workers." Taylor sighed, rubbing her temples. She dropped her hand, the watch on her wrist catching the light and bringing a scowl to her face. She ripped it off and threw it to the side.
"That was a $15,000 watch."
"I don't care about the fucking watch, Lisa!" Taylor snapped. "I care about —" She cut herself off, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Lisa gave her time, setting her tablet down and folding her hands in her lap to wait. "I can't keep doing this, Lisa. I just can't. I'm sorry, but I can't. I'm tired, I'm so tired."
"Tired of what? We have a good thing going here, Tay."
"Don't, don't call me that. Not right now." Taylor leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling. "What do we have going on, Lisa? I'm not being rhetorical. I am actually asking a serious question."
Lisa's guts clenched, and it was only through long practice that she was able to prevent her face from showing her internal wince. "We're partners."
"But we're not," Taylor sighed. "We live together. We sleep in the same bed. We raise a daughter together. We know each other's routines and patterns. We go out to dinner, we go out to movies, we go bowling."
"Exactly, we're —"
Taylor cut her off and with each word Lisa got sicker and sicker. "I'm not done, Lisa. We do all of these things. As far as I know, we're together, we've been together since I turned 16. And yet, every time it comes up, every time, Lisa, you always, always, immediately correct people. 'Oh we're not dating. She's not my girlfriend. She's not my wife. We're just friends.' It doesn't matter if it's the cashier at the food store, Dinah, me. Your answer is always the same: we're just friends."
Because Taylor wanted so much. She wanted the whole package and that was… Lisa wasn't even sure she could give that to herself let alone to anyone else!
Lisa licked her lips, her knuckles white as she clenched her hands hard enough to cut off circulation. "Taylor, you know I don't like labels." She tried to smile, but she couldn't find the Job Smirk no matter how hard she tried.
"Will you just talk to me? Please?" Taylor asked, still staring at the ceiling.
"Why did you go on a date with Brian?" Lisa asked, her voice firm. If 'firm' included 'wavering and warbling.'
"Because every time you tell someone that we're not together you drive a knife into my back, Lisa." Taylor finally dropped her head. Lisa wished she hadn't. "I'm tired of being hurt. I'm tired of not knowing where I stand. I'm tired of not knowing if I mean as much to you as you mean to me."
It was hard to swallow. It was hard to breathe. She tasted blood in her mouth. When she spoke, her voice sounded about as strong as she felt. "I'm not sure if I can give you what you want, Taylor. You know I don't really see relationships the same way that most people do."
Taylor scowled and all Lisa wanted to do was curl up into a little ball. "I don't care about the sex." It wasn't the sex. She could have sex with Taylor. She wouldn't get much out of it, but she could. It was never about the sex. Had she ever… told her friend that? "Sure, sex would be nice, but I don't want sex. I want you, Lisa! I just, I want what we have! Why is this so hard? Nothing changes! I just want to be able to introduce you as my partner. My girlfriend. When someone asks if I have a significant other I don't want you to jump in and immediately deny it! Literally nothing would change except that!"
But it would be a level of commitment. A step forward. Admitting that she was willing to spend her life with someone else, trying to make them happy. It would be admitting that Taylor was different than most of the people she had ever met. That she pushed buttons Lisa hadn't been aware she'd even had before meeting the woman across from her.
Was she ready for that?
Was she ever going to be ready for that?
"You shouldn't date Brian," Lisa whispered.
"Why?" Taylor asked, her voice just as quiet, but her tone sharp, defiant.
"Dating people in the crew is bad for business. It could go wrong. Get us all caught." Great job, Lisa. Just… stellar argument there.
"Bullshit."
"I mean it. I —"
Taylor scoffed. "Jack's Nine has at least one permanent married couple, and three or four rotating couples. They're one of the most successful crews in the country."
"Yeah but —"
"The Knights have Dragon and Defiant. They're the premier crew on this coast. They've been married since they started running jobs."
"I just…" Nothing would change. They were already together. She was already romantic with Taylor. Her partner already put up with her quirks. Taylor wasn't going away. She wasn't. Not as long as Lisa was willing to accept it. She just… she just needed to accept it.
"You shouldn't date Brian." The protest was weak, even to her own ears.
"Tell me why, Lisa." Taylor. Her Implacable Woman. Her Superwoman. She was never going to let this drop.
"Because I don't want…" her voice hitched. Taylor leaned forward, eyes wide, hands spread. Lisa's guts clenched, and she tasted blood again. "… there to be division in the crew," she finished, barely above a whisper.
Taylor closed her eyes, leaning back, the couch taking her full weight as she slumped. They both fell silent. Lisa didn't know how long it lasted. Too long.
"I'm going to stay with my dad. I'll grab my things over the weekend. Dinah will split the difference. She'll stay here Monday through Wednesday, with me Thursday and Friday. We'll swap weekends and holidays."
Lisa couldn't breathe. The walls closed in around her as Taylor stood up, heading for their bedroom. She tried to speak, but nothing came out. The door was closed before she could manage to utter anything. It was barely loud enough for her own ears, certainly not loud enough for Taylor to hear.
"Wait. Tay? Wait…"
The car purred, the engine leaving a very reassuring vibration running through Lisa. It gave her an excuse for the shaking in her hands.
"Are you going to get out?" Dinah asked.
Lisa glared at her adopted daughter. "How do I know you're not going to drive away and leave me here the moment I step out of the car?"
"Learner's permit." There was not enough sarcasm in the world to explain how much Dinah had packed into those two words. "I'm not about to be pulled over by some idiot cop for driving without an adult in the car."
"Smart kid," Lisa muttered.
"Now are you going to get out before they go in or do I have to ram the restaurant?"
Lisa stared at the girl, blinking rapidly. "Holy shit, you're not even kidding. Christ, we went wrong somewhere, you're a menace, pipsqueak."
"You have only yourself to blame! Now get!"
"I need to ground you more," Lisa muttered. She still opened the door and stalked away from the car. She knew she looked like a mess. But she at least had let Dinah fix her makeup before they'd left home. That was something. Taylor had never cared for her looks away.
They'd probably have to push the job after this though, one way or the other. This was her own mess and she had to clean it up. It was a fair price to pay. She could go without the thrill of sticking it to the rich assholes for another few weeks.
The line for the restaurant came up on her far quicker than she had planned. She wasn't ready. She'd forgotten her lines. This wasn't right. She wasn't ready. She couldn't give Taylor what she deserved. She —
"… nothing would change…"
Lisa let out the breath she had been holding, unclenched her fists, and stood up straight as an arrow. She didn't bother with her smirk.
Brian saw her before Taylor did. The muscly brute crossed his arms and tried to stare her down. Good luck on that buddy. She'd met Taylor's stare and came away unflinching before, to say nothing of dealing with the budding nightmare that was Dinah.
Taylor turned just as Lisa came to a halt right behind her. The woman's eyebrows rose, though Taylor was able to school the rest of her reaction quickly enough. "Hi, Lisa. Fancy meeting you here."
"Please come home, Taylor," Lisa said. That wasn't the right line. That wasn't what she had practiced. But her voice was steady and she was audible. It would do. "You were right, I was wrong. I've been awful to you, and I've put you through so much. You deserve better, but I'm a selfish bitch. I don't want to let you go. Don't go out with Brian. Come home."
"What the hell is this?" Brian asked. Lisa spared him a single glance. His eyes were narrowed to slits and his hands had dropped to his sides, fists clenched. Lisa dismissed him. He was a brute but he wasn't about to start throwing punches in public.
"Nothing's changed, Lisa," Taylor said. She didn't meet Lisa's eyes, instead keeping her gaze focused on the sidewalk.
"You're right." Lisa stepped forward. One hand reached forward to cup Taylor's cheek. "Except you got the tense wrong. Nothing will change. We're already dating. We're already partners. You're already my girlfriend. You have been for years. I'm worried, I'm scared, but I'm not scared enough to lose you. Come home."
Taylor's head snapped up, her eyes locking onto Lisa's. "I'm —"
"My girlfriend. You are. I'll prove it." She moved her hand to the back of Taylor's neck, gently pulling her forward. Taylor's lips parted with a soft gasp of surprise before the sound was muffled by Lisa's own.
It wasn't heavenly. The Earth didn't move. It wasn't like the stories had said. But it wasn't awful like she'd feared. It was… nice. She could easily get used to this.
"You bitch."
Lisa broke away from her girlfriend — her girlfriend, oh dear lord, what had happened to the world? — and glared at Brian. "Excuse me. We're trying to have a moment here."
"I wasn't talking to you," he snapped. "Everyone knows you're a cold-hearted cunt. I didn't expect the same from you, Taylor. You were just using me to get back at your side-piece!"
The people in line nearby quietly gasped, subtly moving away and opening up space around Brian. Lisa silently laughed at their no-longer-subtle eavesdropping. It seemed some slurs still got reactions from everyone.
Taylor slowly, deliberately turned from Lisa, facing Brian head on. "I'm sorry you feel that way. That was not my intent. You get the one insult for free, because you're right, she shouldn't have done this here, in public. Walk away, Brian, and we call it done. Keep going and I take it personally."
Brian was about to snap another insult off when his brain seemed to catch up with his mouth. He just scowled, flipping the two of them off, and stalking away.
Taylor sighed, shaking her head. She grabbed Lisa's arm and walked away through the crowd, heading toward the idling car with the teenager staring out at them from the driver's seat. "Dinah put you up to this didn't she?"
"I'll have you know it was my idea," Lisa grumbled. "We're going to need a new muscleman."
"For the record, you should have met me at my dad's, not in the restaurant line." Taylor popped the door open and the two slid into the back, Dinah looking at them from the rear-view mirror.
"I told her that!"
"This seemed more dramatic," Lisa said, wincing. "Also, it took awhile for the squirt to get me out of the house."
Dinah nodded, her smile barely hidden. "Can confirm, she was a mess. Everything good?"
"We'll have to talk more, but for the moment, yeah, I'll come home. And, well, yeah this was pretty dramatic. You do get points for that, Lisa." Taylor shrugged. "And don't worry about the muscleman. I already have one lined up."
Lisa gaped. "You what?"
"He goes by Browbeat. He's a bodybuilder, real quiet usually. I actually think he might fit in better than Brian. He fades into the background really easily. The guy can pull double duty as both a muscleman and recon."
Lisa stared. "I love you, Taylor Hebert."
Taylor nearly glowed. "That. Is what I've been waiting for, Lisa."
Lisa leaned over, dropping her head onto Taylor's shoulder. "I'm sorry I couldn't say it earlier."
"Take all the time you need. I just wanted to know how you felt. That's all I ever wanted."
"I'm going to make sure you keep hearing it from me, loud and clear, every day from now on."
Taylor deserved that and so much more. After all, she had been right: nothing was going to change, just the label.
Sarah, Lisa, she was good at labels. If Taylor wanted a particular one for their relationship, then Lisa would do her damnedest to live up to it.
Their family was worth it.
AN: Dysole told me she was "writing a sad smugbug thing" and I went, "Ah, yes. I must write a happy smugbug thing in response!" How that became this in under a day I have no idea.
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Wildly Inaccurate Assumptions
- Location
- Florida
- Pronouns
- He/Him
AN: This was a short little oneshot made for a rarepair collection on Gaylor discord. I might end up coming back and writing more little snips from other perspectives in this universe because it's fun to write something that doesn't have high stakes in Worm for once!
Summary: Dean finally confronts Amy over why she hates him. Her answer is quite confusing. He already has a boyfriend after all. Amy...did know that...
Right?
Wildly Inaccurate Assumptions
Dean tried not to groan as Amy glared at him across the table. Again. He had long since lost track of the number of times that she'd turned her less-than-hidden ire on him. Sometimes it literally made him sick to watch her hatred.
He was sick and tired of it.
"If you aren't going to even let me eat my lunch in peace, can you at least tell me why you despise me?" he finally ground out. Between bites of his sandwich of course. He wasn't a savage.
Amy reared back, her eyes wide as she sputtered.
"Don't try to deny it. I can literally see your emotions. Even if I couldn't, you're not exactly subtle, Amy. I would like to eat in peace while I wait for my date."
For some reason that seemed to set her off even more. Her face turned an interesting shade of purple as she silently seethed. Eventually, she was able to spit, "Oh, so you two are back together again then? How convenient for you!"
"What?" He had never broken up to begin with. What the hell was she going on about?
"I saw you hanging all over that skank at the party yesterday. Don't even try to deny it! When did you two get back together? As soon as you were done having your fun with Redhead Bimbo Bitch Number 2?"
"Redhead… my cousin? Are you talking about Melissa?"
"Eww! Is there no low you won't stoop to?!" Amy pushed her plate away, crossing her arms and glaring at him even harsher. As if that was possible.
Dean finally gave up on his sandwich with a sigh. "Amy. Do you… think I'm screwing my cousin?" Her lack of a response was all the answer he needed. Okay, maybe that was part of the reason why she hated him at least. "Amy, you do realize that I'm gay. Right?"
If someone had told him that a cape capable of turning someone to stone had targeted Amy Dean would have believed them. He was about to poke her to make sure she was still breathing when she finally pulled herself together enough to utter a single incredulous syllable: "What?"
"I'm gay. Very gay. Melissa has all of the wrong parts. She's also my cousin and I'm pretty sure she could beat me up."
"Who could beat you up now?"
Dean felt his mouth twisting into a near involuntary grin as he heard Carlos' voice from just behind him. He didn't even have to turn as his boyfriend dropped into the seat next to him, his own tray landing on the table with a dull thud.
"Sorry I'm late, hon. The line was atrocious. This beef is fantastic, but I don't enjoy the popularity."
Dean raised his eyebrows, elbowing Carlos' side. "The beef is that good huh?"
"Don't start! That's not a pun. That's not even a good pun if you're reaching! I mean the hot dogs. The dogs. The hot dogs in the buns. The — fuck you."
Dean laughed, shaking his head and laying a hand over Carlos' own. "You're adorable."
"What the fuck is this!?" Amy screeched, her finger up and pointing at Dean. Specifically at his and Carlos' held hands.
Carlos looked between her extended hand and her face, his eyes narrowing and his cheer gone as if someone had hit a switch. "Is there a problem, Amy?"
Dean knew he had to nip this in the bud, even if he wasn't quite sure why he was bothering. "Down, big boy. Her beef — shush — is with me. Not with us. I still don't understand though and you came in the middle." Carlos wiggled his eyebrows and Dean chuckled at the unintentional continuation. As he rolled his eyes, he gestured magnanimously to the side, highlighting his boyfriend. "Amy, you know Carlos. You've seen us interacting before. You've seen us on dates before. You've been at my parents' house while we were together. Why is it a surprise that we are dating?"
"That's — not — no — you can't be — Vicky! What?!" She was definitely turning purple now. It would have been amusing, except she was the healer and if she keeled over dead in the middle of the room he would probably end up being blamed. Somehow.
"You should really breathe, Amy." Dean tapped the table, frowning. "What about Vicky?"
"You — her — together —" Amy sputtered. At least she managed to get a gasp of air this time.
Dean was left utterly confused though. Carlos was apparently none the wiser. "Did you and Vicky date before me?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
Carlos snapped his fingers, turning to meet Dean's eyes. "Wait! Wasn't there that model dinner or something at the Mayor's house a few weeks back? You needed someone to be your beard. Because he's in with the Empire?"
"Oh! Right!" Dean gasped. "And we still didn't know how my parents would react to us! Wow, that was a while ago." He turned back to Amy, her mouth hanging wide open, her eyes large as saucers. "Did you seriously think that I've been secretly dating your sister this whole time?"
"Of course you have!" Amy yelled. She slapped her hand onto the table glaring between the two of them. "You can't have a boyfriend, you keep breaking up with her and getting back together." She sat back, folding her arms and glaring. As if that settled things.
Carlos reclaimed his hand, rubbing at his temple. "Amy, have you ever considered that Vicky might, just might, be using Dean as a convenient excuse to get Carol off her back?"
Amy's mouth snapped closed with an audible click.
"Your mom is awful. She's an S Class bitch. If I wasn't dating Dean, I might have considered asking Vicky out myself. But then I met Carol. And I realized I want nothing to do with your family. Why wouldn't she lie to get away from Carol for even just a few hours?"
"But, that's — No!" Amy hissed. "She bought clothes! To impress her date! I know; I helped her pick out the lingerie!"
Dean threw up his hands and groaned. "Well she's certainly not dating me, Amy! I am very happy right here. With my boyfriend."
"Aww, I'm happy with you too, Dean," Carlos cooed. He reached over, his large hand cupping Dean's cheek and pulling him around. As Carlos leaned down, Dean noticed Amy scowling and crossing her arms for a moment before his attention was fully on the man kissing him.
He should be finishing the argument, clearing up the misunderstanding, not getting distracted. Not that Dean was going to complain for a single second of course. That would just be foolish and his parents didn't raise a simple-minded fool. They might have raised a single-minded one, but not a simple one.
"No, this is bullshit!" Amy shouted. Carlos pulled back and it was all Dean could do to suppress his whimper. "So who the hell is my sister dating?!"
Through the window, Dean just barely caught a glimpse of a tall, leggy blonde, all but hanging off the arm of the girl walking next to her. Dean opened his mouth to say something as Amy started going on a rant across from him.
Beyond the window pane, Vicky bit her lip, the girl she was curled against was blushing so brightly he could see it from his seat. Her dark curls and glasses didn't ring any bells for him. They were gone before anyone else at the table noticed.
Amy was still ranting.
Dean swallowed his words.
Some things were better left a mystery.
Summary: Dean finally confronts Amy over why she hates him. Her answer is quite confusing. He already has a boyfriend after all. Amy...did know that...
Right?
Wildly Inaccurate Assumptions
Dean tried not to groan as Amy glared at him across the table. Again. He had long since lost track of the number of times that she'd turned her less-than-hidden ire on him. Sometimes it literally made him sick to watch her hatred.
He was sick and tired of it.
"If you aren't going to even let me eat my lunch in peace, can you at least tell me why you despise me?" he finally ground out. Between bites of his sandwich of course. He wasn't a savage.
Amy reared back, her eyes wide as she sputtered.
"Don't try to deny it. I can literally see your emotions. Even if I couldn't, you're not exactly subtle, Amy. I would like to eat in peace while I wait for my date."
For some reason that seemed to set her off even more. Her face turned an interesting shade of purple as she silently seethed. Eventually, she was able to spit, "Oh, so you two are back together again then? How convenient for you!"
"What?" He had never broken up to begin with. What the hell was she going on about?
"I saw you hanging all over that skank at the party yesterday. Don't even try to deny it! When did you two get back together? As soon as you were done having your fun with Redhead Bimbo Bitch Number 2?"
"Redhead… my cousin? Are you talking about Melissa?"
"Eww! Is there no low you won't stoop to?!" Amy pushed her plate away, crossing her arms and glaring at him even harsher. As if that was possible.
Dean finally gave up on his sandwich with a sigh. "Amy. Do you… think I'm screwing my cousin?" Her lack of a response was all the answer he needed. Okay, maybe that was part of the reason why she hated him at least. "Amy, you do realize that I'm gay. Right?"
If someone had told him that a cape capable of turning someone to stone had targeted Amy Dean would have believed them. He was about to poke her to make sure she was still breathing when she finally pulled herself together enough to utter a single incredulous syllable: "What?"
"I'm gay. Very gay. Melissa has all of the wrong parts. She's also my cousin and I'm pretty sure she could beat me up."
"Who could beat you up now?"
Dean felt his mouth twisting into a near involuntary grin as he heard Carlos' voice from just behind him. He didn't even have to turn as his boyfriend dropped into the seat next to him, his own tray landing on the table with a dull thud.
"Sorry I'm late, hon. The line was atrocious. This beef is fantastic, but I don't enjoy the popularity."
Dean raised his eyebrows, elbowing Carlos' side. "The beef is that good huh?"
"Don't start! That's not a pun. That's not even a good pun if you're reaching! I mean the hot dogs. The dogs. The hot dogs in the buns. The — fuck you."
Dean laughed, shaking his head and laying a hand over Carlos' own. "You're adorable."
"What the fuck is this!?" Amy screeched, her finger up and pointing at Dean. Specifically at his and Carlos' held hands.
Carlos looked between her extended hand and her face, his eyes narrowing and his cheer gone as if someone had hit a switch. "Is there a problem, Amy?"
Dean knew he had to nip this in the bud, even if he wasn't quite sure why he was bothering. "Down, big boy. Her beef — shush — is with me. Not with us. I still don't understand though and you came in the middle." Carlos wiggled his eyebrows and Dean chuckled at the unintentional continuation. As he rolled his eyes, he gestured magnanimously to the side, highlighting his boyfriend. "Amy, you know Carlos. You've seen us interacting before. You've seen us on dates before. You've been at my parents' house while we were together. Why is it a surprise that we are dating?"
"That's — not — no — you can't be — Vicky! What?!" She was definitely turning purple now. It would have been amusing, except she was the healer and if she keeled over dead in the middle of the room he would probably end up being blamed. Somehow.
"You should really breathe, Amy." Dean tapped the table, frowning. "What about Vicky?"
"You — her — together —" Amy sputtered. At least she managed to get a gasp of air this time.
Dean was left utterly confused though. Carlos was apparently none the wiser. "Did you and Vicky date before me?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
Carlos snapped his fingers, turning to meet Dean's eyes. "Wait! Wasn't there that model dinner or something at the Mayor's house a few weeks back? You needed someone to be your beard. Because he's in with the Empire?"
"Oh! Right!" Dean gasped. "And we still didn't know how my parents would react to us! Wow, that was a while ago." He turned back to Amy, her mouth hanging wide open, her eyes large as saucers. "Did you seriously think that I've been secretly dating your sister this whole time?"
"Of course you have!" Amy yelled. She slapped her hand onto the table glaring between the two of them. "You can't have a boyfriend, you keep breaking up with her and getting back together." She sat back, folding her arms and glaring. As if that settled things.
Carlos reclaimed his hand, rubbing at his temple. "Amy, have you ever considered that Vicky might, just might, be using Dean as a convenient excuse to get Carol off her back?"
Amy's mouth snapped closed with an audible click.
"Your mom is awful. She's an S Class bitch. If I wasn't dating Dean, I might have considered asking Vicky out myself. But then I met Carol. And I realized I want nothing to do with your family. Why wouldn't she lie to get away from Carol for even just a few hours?"
"But, that's — No!" Amy hissed. "She bought clothes! To impress her date! I know; I helped her pick out the lingerie!"
Dean threw up his hands and groaned. "Well she's certainly not dating me, Amy! I am very happy right here. With my boyfriend."
"Aww, I'm happy with you too, Dean," Carlos cooed. He reached over, his large hand cupping Dean's cheek and pulling him around. As Carlos leaned down, Dean noticed Amy scowling and crossing her arms for a moment before his attention was fully on the man kissing him.
He should be finishing the argument, clearing up the misunderstanding, not getting distracted. Not that Dean was going to complain for a single second of course. That would just be foolish and his parents didn't raise a simple-minded fool. They might have raised a single-minded one, but not a simple one.
"No, this is bullshit!" Amy shouted. Carlos pulled back and it was all Dean could do to suppress his whimper. "So who the hell is my sister dating?!"
Through the window, Dean just barely caught a glimpse of a tall, leggy blonde, all but hanging off the arm of the girl walking next to her. Dean opened his mouth to say something as Amy started going on a rant across from him.
Beyond the window pane, Vicky bit her lip, the girl she was curled against was blushing so brightly he could see it from his seat. Her dark curls and glasses didn't ring any bells for him. They were gone before anyone else at the table noticed.
Amy was still ranting.
Dean swallowed his words.
Some things were better left a mystery.
The Perfect Girl
- Location
- Florida
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Warnings: Not fluff, do not be fooled. This is dark. Like many of my things, it doesn't end dark for everyone, but this is dark. This is an AU; the exact nature of said AU is part of the plot reveals, so I can't say what they are here, but just don't expect canon. Content Warnings: Amy. (Implied sexual assault. Brainwashing. Identity Loss.)
The Perfect Girl
Amy stared out at the water, her elbows around her knees, her hands clasped. She was biting her lip. It was a bad habit. She couldn't bring herself to stop.
"You're going to draw blood if you keep chewing like that," Vicky said, inclining her head towards Amy.
Amy just bit down harder, a whine escaping her. This was wrong. This was so, so wrong. This was bad.
"The Nine are definitely gone, just like they said. I checked. The city is in the clear."
"That's good," Amy managed to whisper.
"Mmm." Vicky was silent for several long seconds. Amy almost let herself relax — but she could never do that again. "We should go home. Aunt Sarah is probably going insane with worry right now."
Amy touched Vicky's hand. Vicky was calm. How was she so calm?
She was right though. Amy should go home. Aunt Sarah probably was worried about her. Did anyone even know for sure that she had survived Bonesaw and the Siberian? Would Skitter ever tell New Wave?
Did she even want her to?
"It would be awful if they just assumed we'd died," Vicky said, her voice barely above a whisper. Amy choked back a sob. "I mean, against Leviathan, maybe it wouldn't have been so bad. But to disappear against the Nine? They'd probably think we're Bonesaw victims. That's a fate worse than death. Probably the only thing worse is a Grey Boy loop. To have your identity, your soul, your very body torn away from you? Someone needs to shank that bitch in her sleep."
Amy felt the tears falling down her cheeks. She didn't raise her head. Vicky was completely right. She wasn't lying at all, she wasn't even agitated, she was just stating facts. And she was completely right. Bonesaw was the worst kind of monster.
"I need to fix you…" Amy whispered.
She'd needed to fix her before, when Crawler's acid had almost killed her. She'd done that! She'd saved her life! She hadn't meant to go so far, but now that she had, why shouldn't she enjoy it? Just for… just for a little while…
Vicky shrugged. "You could have left the first scar. It would have looked badass."
It would have. A battle scar for the ages. But that had been a big scar, and Amy wasn't sure that Vicky would have been able to talk very well if she hadn't healed it.
"It's late, we should head back," Amy murmured.
They were both exhausted. She'd finish fixing the blonde tomorrow.
It was convenient that power was still spotty. There was less chance of cameras spotting them this way. Amy knew the opportunities to take these dates were going to be limited. There was only so long they'd be able to go out in public. Word would get back to her family eventually.
"I can't believe the BP&E are still dragging their heels on restoring power here," Vicky grumbled. She poked at the stew in front of her, grimacing.
"The food tastes fine. I'm impressed the restaurant is still open."
"I can taste the propane, Amy." Vicky looked up, glaring. "Leviathan was weeks ago. The Nine have been gone for how long? This shouldn't be a problem anymore."
Amy sighed. She agreed, but the lack of power was convenient so… "It's Bay Power & Electric. They're always slow as hell."
Vicky dropped her spoon into the stew. Glancing around, she nodded once, then leaned over the table. "Why don't you make something to, you know, help!"
Amy's eyes widened.
"If the BP&E can't get off their asses, just make a shock eel — or something — that can charge stuff wirelessly! Hell, we could market it! Make some money, get back on our feet."
"No. No, absolutely not. We're supposed to be laying low, Vicky!" Amy hissed. Her eyes flitted from side-to-side, but thankfully none of the people nearby seemed to have reacted to Vicky's whispered shouts.
Vicky rolled her eyes and pulled back, nearly slamming into her chair as she crossed her arms and huffed. "I want a hot shower Amy. This is bullshit. You can fix this. And PHO. I need PHO. I have no idea what is going on and I'm getting antsy."
"It's just… it's too soon. We just need to wait for things to cool down a bit. We'll give it another week? If the power isn't back by then, I'll… see if I can… do something small. Maybe."
Vicky nodded and went back to glaring at her stew.
Amy would probably start small. Just their building. She really did miss the internet.
"The Boardwalk looks so different," Vicky said, her voice somber. "There was a shop over there that sold the best coffee. Jeez, I hope… he got out okay."
Amy let out a quiet breath as Vicky stopped trying to reach for the name she had forgotten. Her irises expanded and the tension in her arms left her. By the time that Vicky had turned away from the pile of blue rubble, she was back to smiling. And Amy was breathing all the easier for it.
"I thought you preferred tea?" Amy asked.
"Oh, right," Vicky said, shaking her head. "Well, that place had good enough coffee that it made even tea drinkers blush. Man, this place is still so flooded."
"Yeah," Amy agreed. She hadn't particularly liked the Boardwalk before, but she had at least acknowledged it was a better than average part of the city. It was a shame seeing it like this.
Vicky grunted. "The city obviously doesn't care. You'd think they would prioritize this considering how many jobs were here. You know, if we fixed this up, we'd be pretty big local heroes."
"I don't want that kind of attention," Amy murmured.
"It would be really easy too. A few biopump things and we'd have it cleaned up in hours. Hell, we could probably give a few to the fire department too. Amy? What do you —"
"What the fuck?"
Vicky cut off and Amy nearly slammed into the back of her as she came to a sharp halt. Amy's eyes opened as wide as dinner plates as she saw Crystal standing right in front of them, staring at them. Her eyes scanning over Amy, over Vicky, over their joined hands, back over Vicky, centering on Amy.
"I-I can explain," Amy stammered.
"What. The. Fuck?!"
"You should really be careful," Vicky sighed.
Crystal's eyes snapped back to Vicky. "What?"
"Be. Careful. You're alone. There's no service here." Vicky inclined her head to the side. "We're going home."
"You're —" Crystal cut off. She reared back, floating into the air, her fingertips glowing. "Amy," Crystal had to lick her lips and swallow a few times before she could get the words out. Amy kept hiding behind Vicky the entire time. "Ames, how about we all go to the park? The ice cream truck is back. We always used to love going there after getting our shopping done. Right?"
"I could go for some ice cream," Vicky commented. "But it's up to you, Amy."
She really wanted that. But… she didn't deserve ice cream. Not yet. Not… soon. She could have ice cream soon. After she fixed Vicky. A week. She could have ice cream in a week.
"It's been a long day," Amy murmured. "Maybe another time?"
"Amy," Crystal said, holding her hands out wide, a big smile on her face as she settled back down onto the wood and took a single step forward. "We were all really worried about you. Just, maybe five minutes?"
"I really don't like to be wandering around outside," Amy grunted. "Vicky and I need to get home."
Crystal's gaze snapped onto Vicky and her features twisted. It was just a second, then she was back centered on Amy. Amy had to have imagined the disgust and horror. Vicky was too perfect for that. "Please don't walk away, Amy. Please. There's some things here that are making a lot more sense now and, well, I really need to talk to you. For just five minutes. Otherwise I'm going to be jumping to some conclusions here that might not be so wonderful. So how about that ice cream? I can show you some cool cat photos on PHO over there too."
"Ooh, I haven't seen new cat videos in ages!" Vicky cooed.
Amy sneered. "I never understood why you liked those animals. Do you have any idea how disgusting they are? We can't go anyway. It's getting late and we need to get home, Vicky!"
Vicky sighed. "Say hi to Aunt Sarah for us."
"Oh, definitely," Crystal said, her voice more strained than Amy ever remembered it. She could… fix that. If Crystal came closer, then she could help her sore throat. It would only take a second… She stepped to the side, placing herself between Amy and Crystal. "Yeah, I'll let her know Amy and… you, said hello. Right now. I'll get right on that. Amy… I really wish you had gone for that ice cream."
"Why are we looking at art?" Vicky asked. Amy cringed, the scorn in the blonde's voice was physically painful. She was just glad that Vicky's back was to her. "You heard those bastards. The Merchant party is tonight. Why are we here instead of getting ready to fight them and arrest them?"
"We need to… keep quiet…" Amy murmured. Her excuse was weak, even to her own ears.
"With me and you there? We wouldn't have any problem taking them all down, Amy!" Vicky snapped. She turned, her hands planted on her hips and her hair flying.
Amy stared, her mouth dry.
Vicky was right too. She wouldn't even have to go into the stadium herself. She'd mentioned something about plant monsters to Amy a few hours ago while they were in bed. It… really wouldn't be that hard to make a plant golem. And why stop at one? She could make several golems at once. She could probably even directly control them through vines too. Or maybe a bastardized version of Skitter's bug control on a more macro scale? Using pheromones or radio waves?
"These people are horrible, Amy."
When had Vicky gotten so close to her? She was so tall. And so beautiful. And she was right. The Merchants were awful.
"They're drug peddlers. They get innocent people addicted to their crap. They ruin lives! All people are trying to do is pick themselves up after the shit we've been through and now they're stuck trying to run away from these opportunistic idiots?!"
"The PRT —"
"Are useless!" Vicky snapped.
She was right. It had been how long and they hadn't done anything.
"It's been how long and they haven't done anything! We should do something ourselves. You should do something. They're going to be right there. Why are we sitting here looking at art, Amy? We should be preparing."
Yeah. Yeah, they should be preparing!
Amy slammed the door closed behind them and leaned back against it. Her grin could not have been wider and she completely gave up on holding back her giggles. "Did you see those assholes? Did you see Mush!? Oh god, when that golem slammed him through the car wash I thought I was going to die laughing!"
"That was a pretty good one," Vicky said. Her own smirk had widened, giving her an expression that Amy found very foxy indeed. "I was particularly happy with the giant fireball that Squealer left behind too. That poor tank never knew what hit it!"
"Neither did the gas station," Amy snickered. She pushed off of the door, striding up to Vicky and twisting them around. She ran her hands up and down the blonde's arms, shudders running through her as she shut her eyes. "Those golems, god, that was… amazing! And I wouldn't have been able to do it without you."
She stepped backward. The couch was right there. Three steps and they could celebrate. Two steps. One.
Amy stopped short, her eyes flying open, a gasp rushing from her suddenly wide open mouth.
The steel resting between her shoulder blades was very cold, and very sharp.
"Finally found you."
Amy trembled. She knew she shouldn't. The knife was already poking through her shirt. It was already poking through her skin. Trembling was only going to hurt herself. But she wasn't a fighter! She wasn't supposed to — this was her home! And, and… and she knew that voice.
Oh… oh she knew that voice…
Oh no…
"I c-c-can explain," Amy cried.
"Here's what's going to happen," Skitter stated. There was no inflection in her voice at all. She could have been discussing the weather for all that she sounded like she cared. "You're going to return her to normal. Then you're going to step away, put those oven mitts over your hands, and lie down on the floor."
"Vicky?!" Amy gasped.
Vicky just stared back into her eyes, her features twisted in a grimace. "What do you want me to do, Amy? It's not like I can fly you out of here."
Right. Right, of course she couldn't. She couldn't fly. She wasn't invulnerable, or super strong either. She was… She was… She wasn't…
"You need me," Amy said. Her voice came out more steadily than she had expected. "You need me to fix her or she's always going to —"
"No." Skitter's blunt dismissal stopped Amy in her tracks. It was enough to leave her hyperventilating. "You don't follow the news very closely do you, Amy? Not all of the Nine got away, only the ones I didn't need."
Amy flinched, the knife biting into her back. "I h-heard you after Leviathan. You want to be a hero! You wouldn't let any of the Ni—"
"After Leviathan? You mean when you threatened me with super-cancer during an Endbringer Truce while I had a broken back and thought my friends were dead?"
"But I didn't —" Amy whispered.
"And look at where you ended up. I have some captive ex-Nine, but you have a brainwashed, body sculpted, sex-slave. I'll give you this Amy, we both make far better villains than we ever did heroes."
"That's not tr—"
"Amy. We're getting sidetracked and you're not listening," Skitter stated, stomping all over Amy's weak rebuttal. "Bonesaw's little lab is very well stocked and she takes my orders now. I also have Scapegoat on retainer and an open contract for Cranial as needed. You, undoing this," Skitter gestured towards Vicky, and Amy heard a droning, whistling buzz from just beyond the room. She couldn't see the swarm, but Skitter made sure she knew it was there. The vibrations from the insects drove down to the core of her very bones. It lasted only a second. Amy knew her power wasn't fast enough. Not if they went for her all together. What could she do against that sound?
"You would make things quick and simple, Amy," Skitter said. The swarm had gone silent. Skitter's voice was perfectly level. Amy almost found herself wishing for the insects again. "Do not make the mistake of assuming that you are necessary." She got her wish. The walls around them came alive. A million insects shaking free from the walls, ceilings, floor. Amy couldn't breathe.
The swarm spoke. "FIX HER AMY DALLON. YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS BEFORE I CHEW THROUGH YOUR SPINE."
"What assurance do I have that you won't kill me after I fix her?!" Amy shouted. She couldn't think. She just needed time.
Skitter leaned close, the words just as toneless as the rest, "Nothing. Only the knowledge that I want her back far more than I care about you. Five seconds."
She needed time. She just had to think. She could —
"Amy."
Vicky's soft plea, and softer eyes drew her attention. Her raging stomach settled, and the roaring in her head quieted. She leaned her head forward and Vicky reached up to pat her head.
"Please."
"I know," Amy cried.
She clutched Vicky's arms hard enough to leave bruises. One final time. There never should have been a first time. With a sob, Amy clenched her eyes shut, and pulled on the blonde's biology.
Her power was not instantaneous. And there was… a lot to change. Skitter stayed behind her the entire time, the knife never once moving from its place between her shoulder blades. She could feel the blood slowly trickling down her back, soaking into her shirt.
Amy didn't know how long it took. She didn't open her eyes until it was done.
Finally, finally, Amy blinked back the tears, and stared at the blonde across from her. Her eyes were so beautiful.
"You forgot my eyes," Tattletale stated, her expression as tightly neutral as Skitter's voice.
Amy sniffled. She'd just wanted to see Vicky's bright blue eyes one last time. Was that really so much to ask? Just… one more…
"Amy. My eyes."
Amy nodded. She reached out with her power. Bottle-glass green restored. Disgusting color. Why Tattletale even wanted that color back was beyond her.
"Now, let go," Tattletale said. She could have given Skitter a run for her money in control. Did all of the Undersiders go for lessons in it?
"Are you sur—"
"Amy. Let go." Tattletale said again.
Amy sobbed again. Her hands spasmed. Tattletale leapt backwards, even as Amy reached out, grasping at air, crying.
"Wait! Wait, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'll do better! I can be more careful. I didn't mean - I'm sorry! I can - just - Please!"
"You don't get a medal for being sorry, Amy. That's not how the world works." Skitter's words cut through her like knives and Amy wrapped her arms around herself trying to make it stop. "Are you even sorry? Did you ever even think to check on the real Victoria? Did you look up if she lived? You never came back to help her." Vicky was fine. She was fine! She was right — Amy's eyes widened as her eyes caught on bottle-glass green instead of bright blue. She couldn't stop the sob that escaped her. She didn't want to. She'd killed Vicky. She'd killed her sister.
The knife pulled away from her skin, and Amy gasped, her knees giving out and she dropped to the floor, her chin dropping to her chest. She'd forgotten what it felt like to not have adrenaline running through her heart.
Skitter stepped around her, leaving a wide berth. She stopped next to Tattletale. "You didn't get to finish off Coil. Leviathan stole that from you. Do you want to take this?"
Finish off Coil? What?
Tattletale looked down at the extended knife handle, then back up at Skitter. Like a whip, her hand shot out, her fingers wrapped around the handle. Her arm was shaking. Amy knew that shake. Vicky had shaken like that every time they'd… but she had…
"You took your damn time," Tattletale whispered, her hand still shaking.
"I know," Skitter replied, her voice just as soft. "I'm sorry. I don't think we would have found her without you."
"The Order is already cleared? Nothing more lenient?" Tattletale asked, an unshed cry in her voice. Amy knew that sound well too. She tightened her arms around herself.
"Technically it's a Birdcage sentence." Tattletale's entire body violently shook, but before she could do more than open her mouth, Skitter continued, "But tonight I only brought people directly impacted by her or loyal to us. Grue, Regent, Laserdream, Lady Photon, Battery, and Dauntless are outside. Just in case I was subsumed too. None of them are going to look twice. You're clear."
Amy finally lifted her head fully, trying to meet Skitter's gaze through the mask. What were they talking about? Birdcage? But that all sounded like… "You said you'd let me live."
"I said I wanted her back more than I cared about you. I made no promises for what happened after." The air around them came alive with a cacophony of wings and legs and buzzing and whistling and NOISE. It ended a moment later. Not a single insect had come close enough for her to touch. Amy sniffled. Skitter was right. Had she ever expected to just… get to leave? After what she had done? "Your grace period expired when you walked away from Laserdream. She came to us after."
"I never… I never meant to hurt anyone…"
Tattletale pulled away from Skitter and closed the distance between the two of them. She crouched down. Her hands weren't shaking anymore. "I know you didn't. Goodbye, Amy."
It didn't hurt as much as she had thought it would.
AN: So some of the world changes: Leviathan succeeded in flooding Coil's base, it killed Coil, Dinah, and Noelle as well (not his objective, he miscalculated). The Nine still invaded, but things went a bit differently. The Merchants weren't wiped out by them, instead the Empire was hit. Amy still messed up with Vicky following Bonesaw's visit, but later on, instead of Vicky getting hurt, Lisa was hurt and Amy ended up absconding with her, ostensibly to 'fix her'. Taylor took over leadership of the Undersiders and also stepped up to run Coil's network in Lisa's place after she was taken. The group kept looking for her/Amy, as did basically everyone else in the Bay, having realized that she was starting to slip down that slope. The heroes still thought Amy could be saved… right up until Crystal ran into her.
The Perfect Girl
Amy stared out at the water, her elbows around her knees, her hands clasped. She was biting her lip. It was a bad habit. She couldn't bring herself to stop.
"You're going to draw blood if you keep chewing like that," Vicky said, inclining her head towards Amy.
Amy just bit down harder, a whine escaping her. This was wrong. This was so, so wrong. This was bad.
"The Nine are definitely gone, just like they said. I checked. The city is in the clear."
"That's good," Amy managed to whisper.
"Mmm." Vicky was silent for several long seconds. Amy almost let herself relax — but she could never do that again. "We should go home. Aunt Sarah is probably going insane with worry right now."
Amy touched Vicky's hand. Vicky was calm. How was she so calm?
She was right though. Amy should go home. Aunt Sarah probably was worried about her. Did anyone even know for sure that she had survived Bonesaw and the Siberian? Would Skitter ever tell New Wave?
Did she even want her to?
"It would be awful if they just assumed we'd died," Vicky said, her voice barely above a whisper. Amy choked back a sob. "I mean, against Leviathan, maybe it wouldn't have been so bad. But to disappear against the Nine? They'd probably think we're Bonesaw victims. That's a fate worse than death. Probably the only thing worse is a Grey Boy loop. To have your identity, your soul, your very body torn away from you? Someone needs to shank that bitch in her sleep."
Amy felt the tears falling down her cheeks. She didn't raise her head. Vicky was completely right. She wasn't lying at all, she wasn't even agitated, she was just stating facts. And she was completely right. Bonesaw was the worst kind of monster.
"I need to fix you…" Amy whispered.
She'd needed to fix her before, when Crawler's acid had almost killed her. She'd done that! She'd saved her life! She hadn't meant to go so far, but now that she had, why shouldn't she enjoy it? Just for… just for a little while…
Vicky shrugged. "You could have left the first scar. It would have looked badass."
It would have. A battle scar for the ages. But that had been a big scar, and Amy wasn't sure that Vicky would have been able to talk very well if she hadn't healed it.
"It's late, we should head back," Amy murmured.
They were both exhausted. She'd finish fixing the blonde tomorrow.
It was convenient that power was still spotty. There was less chance of cameras spotting them this way. Amy knew the opportunities to take these dates were going to be limited. There was only so long they'd be able to go out in public. Word would get back to her family eventually.
"I can't believe the BP&E are still dragging their heels on restoring power here," Vicky grumbled. She poked at the stew in front of her, grimacing.
"The food tastes fine. I'm impressed the restaurant is still open."
"I can taste the propane, Amy." Vicky looked up, glaring. "Leviathan was weeks ago. The Nine have been gone for how long? This shouldn't be a problem anymore."
Amy sighed. She agreed, but the lack of power was convenient so… "It's Bay Power & Electric. They're always slow as hell."
Vicky dropped her spoon into the stew. Glancing around, she nodded once, then leaned over the table. "Why don't you make something to, you know, help!"
Amy's eyes widened.
"If the BP&E can't get off their asses, just make a shock eel — or something — that can charge stuff wirelessly! Hell, we could market it! Make some money, get back on our feet."
"No. No, absolutely not. We're supposed to be laying low, Vicky!" Amy hissed. Her eyes flitted from side-to-side, but thankfully none of the people nearby seemed to have reacted to Vicky's whispered shouts.
Vicky rolled her eyes and pulled back, nearly slamming into her chair as she crossed her arms and huffed. "I want a hot shower Amy. This is bullshit. You can fix this. And PHO. I need PHO. I have no idea what is going on and I'm getting antsy."
"It's just… it's too soon. We just need to wait for things to cool down a bit. We'll give it another week? If the power isn't back by then, I'll… see if I can… do something small. Maybe."
Vicky nodded and went back to glaring at her stew.
Amy would probably start small. Just their building. She really did miss the internet.
"The Boardwalk looks so different," Vicky said, her voice somber. "There was a shop over there that sold the best coffee. Jeez, I hope… he got out okay."
Amy let out a quiet breath as Vicky stopped trying to reach for the name she had forgotten. Her irises expanded and the tension in her arms left her. By the time that Vicky had turned away from the pile of blue rubble, she was back to smiling. And Amy was breathing all the easier for it.
"I thought you preferred tea?" Amy asked.
"Oh, right," Vicky said, shaking her head. "Well, that place had good enough coffee that it made even tea drinkers blush. Man, this place is still so flooded."
"Yeah," Amy agreed. She hadn't particularly liked the Boardwalk before, but she had at least acknowledged it was a better than average part of the city. It was a shame seeing it like this.
Vicky grunted. "The city obviously doesn't care. You'd think they would prioritize this considering how many jobs were here. You know, if we fixed this up, we'd be pretty big local heroes."
"I don't want that kind of attention," Amy murmured.
"It would be really easy too. A few biopump things and we'd have it cleaned up in hours. Hell, we could probably give a few to the fire department too. Amy? What do you —"
"What the fuck?"
Vicky cut off and Amy nearly slammed into the back of her as she came to a sharp halt. Amy's eyes opened as wide as dinner plates as she saw Crystal standing right in front of them, staring at them. Her eyes scanning over Amy, over Vicky, over their joined hands, back over Vicky, centering on Amy.
"I-I can explain," Amy stammered.
"What. The. Fuck?!"
"You should really be careful," Vicky sighed.
Crystal's eyes snapped back to Vicky. "What?"
"Be. Careful. You're alone. There's no service here." Vicky inclined her head to the side. "We're going home."
"You're —" Crystal cut off. She reared back, floating into the air, her fingertips glowing. "Amy," Crystal had to lick her lips and swallow a few times before she could get the words out. Amy kept hiding behind Vicky the entire time. "Ames, how about we all go to the park? The ice cream truck is back. We always used to love going there after getting our shopping done. Right?"
"I could go for some ice cream," Vicky commented. "But it's up to you, Amy."
She really wanted that. But… she didn't deserve ice cream. Not yet. Not… soon. She could have ice cream soon. After she fixed Vicky. A week. She could have ice cream in a week.
"It's been a long day," Amy murmured. "Maybe another time?"
"Amy," Crystal said, holding her hands out wide, a big smile on her face as she settled back down onto the wood and took a single step forward. "We were all really worried about you. Just, maybe five minutes?"
"I really don't like to be wandering around outside," Amy grunted. "Vicky and I need to get home."
Crystal's gaze snapped onto Vicky and her features twisted. It was just a second, then she was back centered on Amy. Amy had to have imagined the disgust and horror. Vicky was too perfect for that. "Please don't walk away, Amy. Please. There's some things here that are making a lot more sense now and, well, I really need to talk to you. For just five minutes. Otherwise I'm going to be jumping to some conclusions here that might not be so wonderful. So how about that ice cream? I can show you some cool cat photos on PHO over there too."
"Ooh, I haven't seen new cat videos in ages!" Vicky cooed.
Amy sneered. "I never understood why you liked those animals. Do you have any idea how disgusting they are? We can't go anyway. It's getting late and we need to get home, Vicky!"
Vicky sighed. "Say hi to Aunt Sarah for us."
"Oh, definitely," Crystal said, her voice more strained than Amy ever remembered it. She could… fix that. If Crystal came closer, then she could help her sore throat. It would only take a second… She stepped to the side, placing herself between Amy and Crystal. "Yeah, I'll let her know Amy and… you, said hello. Right now. I'll get right on that. Amy… I really wish you had gone for that ice cream."
"Why are we looking at art?" Vicky asked. Amy cringed, the scorn in the blonde's voice was physically painful. She was just glad that Vicky's back was to her. "You heard those bastards. The Merchant party is tonight. Why are we here instead of getting ready to fight them and arrest them?"
"We need to… keep quiet…" Amy murmured. Her excuse was weak, even to her own ears.
"With me and you there? We wouldn't have any problem taking them all down, Amy!" Vicky snapped. She turned, her hands planted on her hips and her hair flying.
Amy stared, her mouth dry.
Vicky was right too. She wouldn't even have to go into the stadium herself. She'd mentioned something about plant monsters to Amy a few hours ago while they were in bed. It… really wouldn't be that hard to make a plant golem. And why stop at one? She could make several golems at once. She could probably even directly control them through vines too. Or maybe a bastardized version of Skitter's bug control on a more macro scale? Using pheromones or radio waves?
"These people are horrible, Amy."
When had Vicky gotten so close to her? She was so tall. And so beautiful. And she was right. The Merchants were awful.
"They're drug peddlers. They get innocent people addicted to their crap. They ruin lives! All people are trying to do is pick themselves up after the shit we've been through and now they're stuck trying to run away from these opportunistic idiots?!"
"The PRT —"
"Are useless!" Vicky snapped.
She was right. It had been how long and they hadn't done anything.
"It's been how long and they haven't done anything! We should do something ourselves. You should do something. They're going to be right there. Why are we sitting here looking at art, Amy? We should be preparing."
Yeah. Yeah, they should be preparing!
Amy slammed the door closed behind them and leaned back against it. Her grin could not have been wider and she completely gave up on holding back her giggles. "Did you see those assholes? Did you see Mush!? Oh god, when that golem slammed him through the car wash I thought I was going to die laughing!"
"That was a pretty good one," Vicky said. Her own smirk had widened, giving her an expression that Amy found very foxy indeed. "I was particularly happy with the giant fireball that Squealer left behind too. That poor tank never knew what hit it!"
"Neither did the gas station," Amy snickered. She pushed off of the door, striding up to Vicky and twisting them around. She ran her hands up and down the blonde's arms, shudders running through her as she shut her eyes. "Those golems, god, that was… amazing! And I wouldn't have been able to do it without you."
She stepped backward. The couch was right there. Three steps and they could celebrate. Two steps. One.
Amy stopped short, her eyes flying open, a gasp rushing from her suddenly wide open mouth.
The steel resting between her shoulder blades was very cold, and very sharp.
"Finally found you."
Amy trembled. She knew she shouldn't. The knife was already poking through her shirt. It was already poking through her skin. Trembling was only going to hurt herself. But she wasn't a fighter! She wasn't supposed to — this was her home! And, and… and she knew that voice.
Oh… oh she knew that voice…
Oh no…
"I c-c-can explain," Amy cried.
"Here's what's going to happen," Skitter stated. There was no inflection in her voice at all. She could have been discussing the weather for all that she sounded like she cared. "You're going to return her to normal. Then you're going to step away, put those oven mitts over your hands, and lie down on the floor."
"Vicky?!" Amy gasped.
Vicky just stared back into her eyes, her features twisted in a grimace. "What do you want me to do, Amy? It's not like I can fly you out of here."
Right. Right, of course she couldn't. She couldn't fly. She wasn't invulnerable, or super strong either. She was… She was… She wasn't…
"You need me," Amy said. Her voice came out more steadily than she had expected. "You need me to fix her or she's always going to —"
"No." Skitter's blunt dismissal stopped Amy in her tracks. It was enough to leave her hyperventilating. "You don't follow the news very closely do you, Amy? Not all of the Nine got away, only the ones I didn't need."
Amy flinched, the knife biting into her back. "I h-heard you after Leviathan. You want to be a hero! You wouldn't let any of the Ni—"
"After Leviathan? You mean when you threatened me with super-cancer during an Endbringer Truce while I had a broken back and thought my friends were dead?"
"But I didn't —" Amy whispered.
"And look at where you ended up. I have some captive ex-Nine, but you have a brainwashed, body sculpted, sex-slave. I'll give you this Amy, we both make far better villains than we ever did heroes."
"That's not tr—"
"Amy. We're getting sidetracked and you're not listening," Skitter stated, stomping all over Amy's weak rebuttal. "Bonesaw's little lab is very well stocked and she takes my orders now. I also have Scapegoat on retainer and an open contract for Cranial as needed. You, undoing this," Skitter gestured towards Vicky, and Amy heard a droning, whistling buzz from just beyond the room. She couldn't see the swarm, but Skitter made sure she knew it was there. The vibrations from the insects drove down to the core of her very bones. It lasted only a second. Amy knew her power wasn't fast enough. Not if they went for her all together. What could she do against that sound?
"You would make things quick and simple, Amy," Skitter said. The swarm had gone silent. Skitter's voice was perfectly level. Amy almost found herself wishing for the insects again. "Do not make the mistake of assuming that you are necessary." She got her wish. The walls around them came alive. A million insects shaking free from the walls, ceilings, floor. Amy couldn't breathe.
The swarm spoke. "FIX HER AMY DALLON. YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS BEFORE I CHEW THROUGH YOUR SPINE."
"What assurance do I have that you won't kill me after I fix her?!" Amy shouted. She couldn't think. She just needed time.
Skitter leaned close, the words just as toneless as the rest, "Nothing. Only the knowledge that I want her back far more than I care about you. Five seconds."
She needed time. She just had to think. She could —
"Amy."
Vicky's soft plea, and softer eyes drew her attention. Her raging stomach settled, and the roaring in her head quieted. She leaned her head forward and Vicky reached up to pat her head.
"Please."
"I know," Amy cried.
She clutched Vicky's arms hard enough to leave bruises. One final time. There never should have been a first time. With a sob, Amy clenched her eyes shut, and pulled on the blonde's biology.
Her power was not instantaneous. And there was… a lot to change. Skitter stayed behind her the entire time, the knife never once moving from its place between her shoulder blades. She could feel the blood slowly trickling down her back, soaking into her shirt.
Amy didn't know how long it took. She didn't open her eyes until it was done.
Finally, finally, Amy blinked back the tears, and stared at the blonde across from her. Her eyes were so beautiful.
"You forgot my eyes," Tattletale stated, her expression as tightly neutral as Skitter's voice.
Amy sniffled. She'd just wanted to see Vicky's bright blue eyes one last time. Was that really so much to ask? Just… one more…
"Amy. My eyes."
Amy nodded. She reached out with her power. Bottle-glass green restored. Disgusting color. Why Tattletale even wanted that color back was beyond her.
"Now, let go," Tattletale said. She could have given Skitter a run for her money in control. Did all of the Undersiders go for lessons in it?
"Are you sur—"
"Amy. Let go." Tattletale said again.
Amy sobbed again. Her hands spasmed. Tattletale leapt backwards, even as Amy reached out, grasping at air, crying.
"Wait! Wait, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'll do better! I can be more careful. I didn't mean - I'm sorry! I can - just - Please!"
"You don't get a medal for being sorry, Amy. That's not how the world works." Skitter's words cut through her like knives and Amy wrapped her arms around herself trying to make it stop. "Are you even sorry? Did you ever even think to check on the real Victoria? Did you look up if she lived? You never came back to help her." Vicky was fine. She was fine! She was right — Amy's eyes widened as her eyes caught on bottle-glass green instead of bright blue. She couldn't stop the sob that escaped her. She didn't want to. She'd killed Vicky. She'd killed her sister.
The knife pulled away from her skin, and Amy gasped, her knees giving out and she dropped to the floor, her chin dropping to her chest. She'd forgotten what it felt like to not have adrenaline running through her heart.
Skitter stepped around her, leaving a wide berth. She stopped next to Tattletale. "You didn't get to finish off Coil. Leviathan stole that from you. Do you want to take this?"
Finish off Coil? What?
Tattletale looked down at the extended knife handle, then back up at Skitter. Like a whip, her hand shot out, her fingers wrapped around the handle. Her arm was shaking. Amy knew that shake. Vicky had shaken like that every time they'd… but she had…
"You took your damn time," Tattletale whispered, her hand still shaking.
"I know," Skitter replied, her voice just as soft. "I'm sorry. I don't think we would have found her without you."
"The Order is already cleared? Nothing more lenient?" Tattletale asked, an unshed cry in her voice. Amy knew that sound well too. She tightened her arms around herself.
"Technically it's a Birdcage sentence." Tattletale's entire body violently shook, but before she could do more than open her mouth, Skitter continued, "But tonight I only brought people directly impacted by her or loyal to us. Grue, Regent, Laserdream, Lady Photon, Battery, and Dauntless are outside. Just in case I was subsumed too. None of them are going to look twice. You're clear."
Amy finally lifted her head fully, trying to meet Skitter's gaze through the mask. What were they talking about? Birdcage? But that all sounded like… "You said you'd let me live."
"I said I wanted her back more than I cared about you. I made no promises for what happened after." The air around them came alive with a cacophony of wings and legs and buzzing and whistling and NOISE. It ended a moment later. Not a single insect had come close enough for her to touch. Amy sniffled. Skitter was right. Had she ever expected to just… get to leave? After what she had done? "Your grace period expired when you walked away from Laserdream. She came to us after."
"I never… I never meant to hurt anyone…"
Tattletale pulled away from Skitter and closed the distance between the two of them. She crouched down. Her hands weren't shaking anymore. "I know you didn't. Goodbye, Amy."
It didn't hurt as much as she had thought it would.
AN: So some of the world changes: Leviathan succeeded in flooding Coil's base, it killed Coil, Dinah, and Noelle as well (not his objective, he miscalculated). The Nine still invaded, but things went a bit differently. The Merchants weren't wiped out by them, instead the Empire was hit. Amy still messed up with Vicky following Bonesaw's visit, but later on, instead of Vicky getting hurt, Lisa was hurt and Amy ended up absconding with her, ostensibly to 'fix her'. Taylor took over leadership of the Undersiders and also stepped up to run Coil's network in Lisa's place after she was taken. The group kept looking for her/Amy, as did basically everyone else in the Bay, having realized that she was starting to slip down that slope. The heroes still thought Amy could be saved… right up until Crystal ran into her.
Parahuman Assault
- Location
- Florida
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Parahuman Assault
Armsmaster stared at the teenager sitting across the table, sighing internally yet again. He made a note to file — yet another — complaint that he had to be the one conducting this investigation interview.
"But Armsmaster, you're the one with the lie detector."
"But Armsmaster, you're the overseer of the Wards."
"But Armsmaster, your tinker projects aren't important enough."
Not that the Director had actually said that last one, but she was thinking it. With how his budget had been slashed again and again, it was easy enough to understand the implications of what she didn't say. Never mind that she had removed the Wards to her own supervision, to her own building even. No, now when it was inconvenient, now when she didn't want to deal with things, now he was the one in charge.
He made a note to file the complaint directly with Legend.
"Do you understand the charges laid against you?" Armsmaster asked. The questions were rote, the script the same. Fools were always fools. The girl would crumple in under two minutes as they all did and the Director would get another body for her meat grinder. And Armsmaster would have yet another Ward who despised him.
The narrative never changed.
"I understand that the Bitch Trio pushed their luck too far," the girl crowed. The grin splitting her features was certainly not in the normal script. Neither was her ecstatic tone.
What?
"You are charged with Assault With a Parahuman Power," Armsmaster said, his words coming out slow and measured. Perhaps she didn't truly understand?
"Yes, exactly." Apparently she did.
"This is a very serious offense."
The girl — he checked his notes, Taylor Hebert — just grinned wider. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Armsmaster, but isn't one of the requirements for that charge that you need to actually be a parahuman?"
Armsmaster blinked. He blinked again. Then, for good measure, he blinked a third time. "Yes."
"That's what I thought. Those bitches have been harassing and bullying me since high school started. But finally, finally, I have proof and someone who'll listen. Those idiots made their own graves, and now they get to lie in them."
This was not going by the script at all. "Perhaps you could clarify."
"You haven't caught on yet?" Hebert said. She leaned forward, her grin morphing into a conspiratorial smirk and mirth dancing in her eyes. "I'm not a parahuman."
TRUTH
Armsmaster just barely managed to avoid scowling. His software had to be malfunctioning. "One of our Wards witnessed you using your powers. Against her directly."
"I may not be a cape geek, but one of the guys in my class is. Greg goes on and on and on about capes. Every cape has a Corona Pollentia. I had a whole suite of tests done a month ago. Check them. Scan me again. I don't have a Corona Pollentia. I'm not a parahuman."
TRUTH
Armsmaster frowned, quickly triggering the data feed and scanning the comments as Hebert continued to talk. To gloat.
"I would have expected this from Emma. She hasn't been very big on planning ahead since throwing me in the locker. It's given her a sense of invincibility. For good reason, I'll grant. But, I would have expected Sophia to stop her. She really should have guessed I could prove them wrong here." Hebert chuckled. "Especially considering her little secret."
There was nothing in her records. No Corona Pollentia at all. It was… possible that Hebert had had a trigger event since the scans had been taken. Possible. Unlikely. Very unlikely. It was also possible that the records had been altered. Yet, if that was the case, Hebert would not be inviting new scans in PRT controlled facilities.
Dammit. What had Shadow Stalker gotten herself into?
"Are you attempting to insinuate that these allegations are a targeted attack on you, Miss Hebert?" Armsmaster asked. He started pulling up more files as she scoffed. Why had she even been in the hospital?
"I've been targeted by those three since High School started."
TRUTH
Armsmaster's frown deepened. Shadow Stalker was acerbic and could be difficult at the best of times, yet the conclusion that was being laid out was a step too far even for the prickly Ward.
Where were the investigation records from Winslow? A student had been sent to the hospital during school hours. With a Ward on the premises. Where was the investigation?
"And why would they be after you in particular, Miss Hebert?"
She shrugged, leaning back and crossing her arms. "I used to ask myself that same question. If you ever figure out the answer, let me know. Are we done?"
Armsmaster pulled up a new series of reports from Shadow Stalker's handler and laid them side by side against Winslow's Principal's reports. He scowled and set a team to bring in both Blackwell and the handler for questioning.
Be that as it may, there was still the question of what was going on here. "There is always an exception to a rule, Miss Hebert." Her eyebrows raised. "We have video evidence of you using a power on three minors on school grounds. Corona Pollentia or not, it will not matter. Not when you could have killed them."
"Armsmaster, if I wanted to kill the Trio, they'd be dead."
TRUTH
His eyes widened and he paused the data stream. Before he could say a word, Hebert continued talking. "Do you know how easy it is to get a knife in this city? Guns are a little harder, but if I put my hair in a ponytail I'm sure I could find an Empire shop that would sell one to me. I know where Emma lives, I know the passwords to her alarms. Perks of growing up together. Madison is barely five-foot and would be easy to overpower in a back alley and blame on the gangs. Sophia is harder, but I'm sure I could do it if I set my mind to it. I'd probably need a stun gun, and then the problem is transport, but really that's just a staging issue."
TRUTH
"Hebert. What you are admitting to is…"
She shrugged, not shifting from her slouch. "The same thoughts every bullied kid has, Armsmaster. If I didn't kill them a month ago, why would I do it now? You have a video of a fancy light show, taken by one of them. What's more likely; that I lost control, after a year-and-a-half of taking the high road, then tried, and failed, to hurt them? Or that they tried to escalate their harassment in the only way they still could?"
Armsmaster's fist clenched. She was correct, bullies stepping up to criminal charges when physical harassment failed to incite reaction was within reason. And nothing she'd said was a lie. Yet this video wasn't doctored!
"In the interests of thoroughness, we will be conducting new scans to check for Corona Pollentia presence."
Hebert nodded. "I consent. However, by the time it's done, I want a lawyer present as well if you are going to continue to keep me here."
"And your father?" Armsmaster asked. "Shall we delay for him as well? We have still been unable to reach him."
"If you can get a hold of my dad, feel free. I haven't spoken with him in two weeks, so good luck."
The door was barely closing behind her as she followed her escort out before he'd pulled the video footage from this morning back up. Scowling again, he reviewed the footage.
The classroom was empty, it was just the three girls, Emma Barnes, Sophia Hess, and Madison Clements. Clements was filming.
"Emma, can we hit up the mall on Saturday? I need to grab a new dress," Clements said from off camera.
"Sure, Madison, as long as Sophia is free, we can all go."
"I'll be free until noon. Madison, seriously, if you keep trying to shoot my abs, I'm going to break your damn phone," Hess stated.
"Aww," Clements complained.
The door to the room opened and Taylor Hebert stalked in, her face grim and her right hand held curled by her side.
"Well, well, look who's come to us for once!" Barnes crowed. "Forget something, Taylor? Like your pride? Oh wait, you never had that to begin with!"
Hebert closed her eyes, sighing heavily. "Wow. You couldn't even give me a chance to try. Remember, Emma, you brought this on yourselves."
She pulled her hand back, and between one instant and the next, she was holding a ball of ice, fire licking out from the core and coiling in threads all around it. The trio of girls stared. Hebert threw the fireball.
Barnes screamed, Clements dove for the floor and the camera flew along the linoleum coming to rest at an awkward angle. Part of Hess was just barely in frame, turning to smoke as the fireball exploded near her. She dove over the table, leaping for Hebert, kicking the phone again.
The next time that the phone had stopped spinning, Hess was on the ground, clutching her stomach, Barnes and Clements were both whimpering off camera. And Hebert was crouched in the middle of the shot, rubbing her temple.
"You girls are idiots. Did you really think I wasn't going to learn self-defense after winter break? And you. Shadow Stalker? Really? That's how you got into my locker? Do you have any idea how much evidence that leaves behind pointing right to you, Sophia? Or, well, it would have if Blackwell bothered to keep any of my complaints."
"PRT —" Hess gasped. "Gonna fuck you —"
"Yes, let's call the PRT," Hebert said, grabbing Hess' phone from her fingers. "Though I'm sure you're going to twist this to where I'm at fault. Like always. Still, this is the best chance for some human justice that I've had in a long time."
Armsmaster glared at his inner helmet as the playback stopped. That video was not doctored. Yet, Hebert had a point. It all appeared completely staged. Both parties looked staged. He was missing something.
Hebert came back into the room, followed by a tall woman in a fitted suit and long, cascading, platinum hair. Her legs were lithe and her face was near perfectly symmetrical. Her eyes were a captivating ice-gray that Armsmaster felt himself falling in. Her briefcase clattered onto the table and Armsmaster frowned, sitting up straighter, and pulling his eyes away from the lawyer.
"Armsmaster," the woman said. Her voice was just as beautiful as the rest of her. And just as terrible. It hurt to hear her words in a way that he could not describe. "This child has completed your tests. What other items are required of her?"
He blinked. Such odd phrasing. "Yes, I see that her results are in. We appreciate the cooperation." Still no Corona Pollentia. Dammit.
"This child seeks an accounting. Some actions are necessary."
He nodded. "I just have a few more questions. Miss Hebert, did you hire a cape to assist you?"
Hebert stared straight into his helmet. "No."
TRUTH
"Did you buy tinker drugs or devices?"
"No."
TRUTH
"Did you assault Emma Barnes, Sophia Hess, and Madison Clements?"
"I did not assault anyone with a parahuman power."
TRUTH
"Did you contract with a foreign entity while in Europe to resolve your issues at home?"
The attorney grinned, her lips spreading wide like a shark. A shiver ran through Armsmaster's spine. She turned her gaze onto Hebert and waited.
Hebert arched an eyebrow and leaned forward, laying her arms on the table. "I went to Ireland for the summer after my mother died. I didn't have a falling out with Emma until after I got back. There would have been no reason for me to contract with anything or anyone at that point. Not unless someone could bring back my mom, but very few things are that powerful."
TRUTH
The attorney's smile impossibly spread even wider. Her quiet laughter was the breeze through the trees.
"Well done, child. I believe we are done here. Good day."
The duo were already gone before Armsmaster realized he could breathe again. Gasping in several deep lungfuls of air, a shudder ran through his whole body. The hairs all along his neck and arms were still standing straight up.
He couldn't leave it here though. He was the leader of the Brockton Bay Protectorate. He was a hero.
The elevator was too slow. He took the stairs three at a time. He burst out of the front doors, scanning the area with a glance. His eyes widened as he saw Hebert leaning against the side of the building, a phone in her hands.
She glanced up at him, one corner of her mouth lifting as she inclined her head. "She's intense, huh? You sort of get used to that, but it takes a while. Apparently I have potential. Not many people can maintain their composure around her."
His heartbeat slowed and he stepped closer to her, his hand clenched on the shaft of his halberd, though he left it collapsed against his side. "She is the parahuman."
"I told you," Hebert said, shaking her head. "There were no parahuman powers used today. Review your tapes. Watch where I had to think, where I had to watch my words. Today wasn't a test for you, Armsmaster. Today was my test."
TRUTH
"What kind of test?" he growled. "How to hurt people?"
Hebert sighed. "I also told you that if I wanted to kill them I could have. If I wanted to hurt them, I could have done that too."
TRUTH
"My test was to see how far I could get with the truth. If I was worth any more time." Hebert shrugged. "I don't know if you'll see me again, Armsmaster. I don't know if I'll be back in time to help. I hope so. I hope I'll still be human enough to care."
He stared at her mouth hanging open. "You can't expect to just walk away?!"
"What do you have to hold me on?" Hebert asked. She spread her arms wide. "I'm not a parahuman. I didn't contact or contract with a parahuman or get anything from a tinker or a trump. I've been assaulted and harassed by the people accusing me for over a year. You have nothing against me except a video that's not even in focus and shows almost nothing. A video that my scary lawyer can refute in moments and I can talk circles around. A video where every word I said has multiple meanings."
His hand twitched. He was a hero. She was all but admitting to having assaulted those three girls. Yes, she was likely a victim too, but that did not give her carte blanche to strike out in a premeditated assault. And yet, she was again correct. He had nothing that would stick.
"Then why?"
"Why not just leave with her? Why stay and say anything more?" Hebert asked.
He didn't dignify that with a response.
Hebert's gaze dropped to the sidewalk, her eyes closing, her shoulders slumping. "Because I really do want you to talk to my dad."
TRUTH
She lifted her head and met his eyes again. "I might see him tomorrow. I might just see a grave. Goodbye Armsmaster. Good luck."
She stepped forward and Armsmaster instinctively back-stepped. He blinked and when he stared forward again… Taylor Hebert was gone. Armsmaster glanced down at the ground, turned on his heel and stalked back into the building.
As he walked to his office, he sent an urgent note to the maintenance staff:
REMOVE MUSHROOM CIRCLE FROM FRONT ENTRANCE. IMMEDIATELY.
AN: So I was recently rereading The Seventh Test, and - after remembering how much I loved this story - I really, really wanted to do a Wormy take on the fae. My betas are putting ideas in my head about this, so I may end up expanding on it later, I'm not sure yet. In the meantime, if you enjoy reading about The Fair Folk, go read The Seventh Test! It's amazing!
Armsmaster stared at the teenager sitting across the table, sighing internally yet again. He made a note to file — yet another — complaint that he had to be the one conducting this investigation interview.
"But Armsmaster, you're the one with the lie detector."
"But Armsmaster, you're the overseer of the Wards."
"But Armsmaster, your tinker projects aren't important enough."
Not that the Director had actually said that last one, but she was thinking it. With how his budget had been slashed again and again, it was easy enough to understand the implications of what she didn't say. Never mind that she had removed the Wards to her own supervision, to her own building even. No, now when it was inconvenient, now when she didn't want to deal with things, now he was the one in charge.
He made a note to file the complaint directly with Legend.
"Do you understand the charges laid against you?" Armsmaster asked. The questions were rote, the script the same. Fools were always fools. The girl would crumple in under two minutes as they all did and the Director would get another body for her meat grinder. And Armsmaster would have yet another Ward who despised him.
The narrative never changed.
"I understand that the Bitch Trio pushed their luck too far," the girl crowed. The grin splitting her features was certainly not in the normal script. Neither was her ecstatic tone.
What?
"You are charged with Assault With a Parahuman Power," Armsmaster said, his words coming out slow and measured. Perhaps she didn't truly understand?
"Yes, exactly." Apparently she did.
"This is a very serious offense."
The girl — he checked his notes, Taylor Hebert — just grinned wider. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Armsmaster, but isn't one of the requirements for that charge that you need to actually be a parahuman?"
Armsmaster blinked. He blinked again. Then, for good measure, he blinked a third time. "Yes."
"That's what I thought. Those bitches have been harassing and bullying me since high school started. But finally, finally, I have proof and someone who'll listen. Those idiots made their own graves, and now they get to lie in them."
This was not going by the script at all. "Perhaps you could clarify."
"You haven't caught on yet?" Hebert said. She leaned forward, her grin morphing into a conspiratorial smirk and mirth dancing in her eyes. "I'm not a parahuman."
TRUTH
Armsmaster just barely managed to avoid scowling. His software had to be malfunctioning. "One of our Wards witnessed you using your powers. Against her directly."
"I may not be a cape geek, but one of the guys in my class is. Greg goes on and on and on about capes. Every cape has a Corona Pollentia. I had a whole suite of tests done a month ago. Check them. Scan me again. I don't have a Corona Pollentia. I'm not a parahuman."
TRUTH
Armsmaster frowned, quickly triggering the data feed and scanning the comments as Hebert continued to talk. To gloat.
"I would have expected this from Emma. She hasn't been very big on planning ahead since throwing me in the locker. It's given her a sense of invincibility. For good reason, I'll grant. But, I would have expected Sophia to stop her. She really should have guessed I could prove them wrong here." Hebert chuckled. "Especially considering her little secret."
There was nothing in her records. No Corona Pollentia at all. It was… possible that Hebert had had a trigger event since the scans had been taken. Possible. Unlikely. Very unlikely. It was also possible that the records had been altered. Yet, if that was the case, Hebert would not be inviting new scans in PRT controlled facilities.
Dammit. What had Shadow Stalker gotten herself into?
"Are you attempting to insinuate that these allegations are a targeted attack on you, Miss Hebert?" Armsmaster asked. He started pulling up more files as she scoffed. Why had she even been in the hospital?
"I've been targeted by those three since High School started."
TRUTH
Armsmaster's frown deepened. Shadow Stalker was acerbic and could be difficult at the best of times, yet the conclusion that was being laid out was a step too far even for the prickly Ward.
Where were the investigation records from Winslow? A student had been sent to the hospital during school hours. With a Ward on the premises. Where was the investigation?
"And why would they be after you in particular, Miss Hebert?"
She shrugged, leaning back and crossing her arms. "I used to ask myself that same question. If you ever figure out the answer, let me know. Are we done?"
Armsmaster pulled up a new series of reports from Shadow Stalker's handler and laid them side by side against Winslow's Principal's reports. He scowled and set a team to bring in both Blackwell and the handler for questioning.
Be that as it may, there was still the question of what was going on here. "There is always an exception to a rule, Miss Hebert." Her eyebrows raised. "We have video evidence of you using a power on three minors on school grounds. Corona Pollentia or not, it will not matter. Not when you could have killed them."
"Armsmaster, if I wanted to kill the Trio, they'd be dead."
TRUTH
His eyes widened and he paused the data stream. Before he could say a word, Hebert continued talking. "Do you know how easy it is to get a knife in this city? Guns are a little harder, but if I put my hair in a ponytail I'm sure I could find an Empire shop that would sell one to me. I know where Emma lives, I know the passwords to her alarms. Perks of growing up together. Madison is barely five-foot and would be easy to overpower in a back alley and blame on the gangs. Sophia is harder, but I'm sure I could do it if I set my mind to it. I'd probably need a stun gun, and then the problem is transport, but really that's just a staging issue."
TRUTH
"Hebert. What you are admitting to is…"
She shrugged, not shifting from her slouch. "The same thoughts every bullied kid has, Armsmaster. If I didn't kill them a month ago, why would I do it now? You have a video of a fancy light show, taken by one of them. What's more likely; that I lost control, after a year-and-a-half of taking the high road, then tried, and failed, to hurt them? Or that they tried to escalate their harassment in the only way they still could?"
Armsmaster's fist clenched. She was correct, bullies stepping up to criminal charges when physical harassment failed to incite reaction was within reason. And nothing she'd said was a lie. Yet this video wasn't doctored!
"In the interests of thoroughness, we will be conducting new scans to check for Corona Pollentia presence."
Hebert nodded. "I consent. However, by the time it's done, I want a lawyer present as well if you are going to continue to keep me here."
"And your father?" Armsmaster asked. "Shall we delay for him as well? We have still been unable to reach him."
"If you can get a hold of my dad, feel free. I haven't spoken with him in two weeks, so good luck."
The door was barely closing behind her as she followed her escort out before he'd pulled the video footage from this morning back up. Scowling again, he reviewed the footage.
The classroom was empty, it was just the three girls, Emma Barnes, Sophia Hess, and Madison Clements. Clements was filming.
"Emma, can we hit up the mall on Saturday? I need to grab a new dress," Clements said from off camera.
"Sure, Madison, as long as Sophia is free, we can all go."
"I'll be free until noon. Madison, seriously, if you keep trying to shoot my abs, I'm going to break your damn phone," Hess stated.
"Aww," Clements complained.
The door to the room opened and Taylor Hebert stalked in, her face grim and her right hand held curled by her side.
"Well, well, look who's come to us for once!" Barnes crowed. "Forget something, Taylor? Like your pride? Oh wait, you never had that to begin with!"
Hebert closed her eyes, sighing heavily. "Wow. You couldn't even give me a chance to try. Remember, Emma, you brought this on yourselves."
She pulled her hand back, and between one instant and the next, she was holding a ball of ice, fire licking out from the core and coiling in threads all around it. The trio of girls stared. Hebert threw the fireball.
Barnes screamed, Clements dove for the floor and the camera flew along the linoleum coming to rest at an awkward angle. Part of Hess was just barely in frame, turning to smoke as the fireball exploded near her. She dove over the table, leaping for Hebert, kicking the phone again.
The next time that the phone had stopped spinning, Hess was on the ground, clutching her stomach, Barnes and Clements were both whimpering off camera. And Hebert was crouched in the middle of the shot, rubbing her temple.
"You girls are idiots. Did you really think I wasn't going to learn self-defense after winter break? And you. Shadow Stalker? Really? That's how you got into my locker? Do you have any idea how much evidence that leaves behind pointing right to you, Sophia? Or, well, it would have if Blackwell bothered to keep any of my complaints."
"PRT —" Hess gasped. "Gonna fuck you —"
"Yes, let's call the PRT," Hebert said, grabbing Hess' phone from her fingers. "Though I'm sure you're going to twist this to where I'm at fault. Like always. Still, this is the best chance for some human justice that I've had in a long time."
Armsmaster glared at his inner helmet as the playback stopped. That video was not doctored. Yet, Hebert had a point. It all appeared completely staged. Both parties looked staged. He was missing something.
Hebert came back into the room, followed by a tall woman in a fitted suit and long, cascading, platinum hair. Her legs were lithe and her face was near perfectly symmetrical. Her eyes were a captivating ice-gray that Armsmaster felt himself falling in. Her briefcase clattered onto the table and Armsmaster frowned, sitting up straighter, and pulling his eyes away from the lawyer.
"Armsmaster," the woman said. Her voice was just as beautiful as the rest of her. And just as terrible. It hurt to hear her words in a way that he could not describe. "This child has completed your tests. What other items are required of her?"
He blinked. Such odd phrasing. "Yes, I see that her results are in. We appreciate the cooperation." Still no Corona Pollentia. Dammit.
"This child seeks an accounting. Some actions are necessary."
He nodded. "I just have a few more questions. Miss Hebert, did you hire a cape to assist you?"
Hebert stared straight into his helmet. "No."
TRUTH
"Did you buy tinker drugs or devices?"
"No."
TRUTH
"Did you assault Emma Barnes, Sophia Hess, and Madison Clements?"
"I did not assault anyone with a parahuman power."
TRUTH
"Did you contract with a foreign entity while in Europe to resolve your issues at home?"
The attorney grinned, her lips spreading wide like a shark. A shiver ran through Armsmaster's spine. She turned her gaze onto Hebert and waited.
Hebert arched an eyebrow and leaned forward, laying her arms on the table. "I went to Ireland for the summer after my mother died. I didn't have a falling out with Emma until after I got back. There would have been no reason for me to contract with anything or anyone at that point. Not unless someone could bring back my mom, but very few things are that powerful."
TRUTH
The attorney's smile impossibly spread even wider. Her quiet laughter was the breeze through the trees.
"Well done, child. I believe we are done here. Good day."
The duo were already gone before Armsmaster realized he could breathe again. Gasping in several deep lungfuls of air, a shudder ran through his whole body. The hairs all along his neck and arms were still standing straight up.
He couldn't leave it here though. He was the leader of the Brockton Bay Protectorate. He was a hero.
The elevator was too slow. He took the stairs three at a time. He burst out of the front doors, scanning the area with a glance. His eyes widened as he saw Hebert leaning against the side of the building, a phone in her hands.
She glanced up at him, one corner of her mouth lifting as she inclined her head. "She's intense, huh? You sort of get used to that, but it takes a while. Apparently I have potential. Not many people can maintain their composure around her."
His heartbeat slowed and he stepped closer to her, his hand clenched on the shaft of his halberd, though he left it collapsed against his side. "She is the parahuman."
"I told you," Hebert said, shaking her head. "There were no parahuman powers used today. Review your tapes. Watch where I had to think, where I had to watch my words. Today wasn't a test for you, Armsmaster. Today was my test."
TRUTH
"What kind of test?" he growled. "How to hurt people?"
Hebert sighed. "I also told you that if I wanted to kill them I could have. If I wanted to hurt them, I could have done that too."
TRUTH
"My test was to see how far I could get with the truth. If I was worth any more time." Hebert shrugged. "I don't know if you'll see me again, Armsmaster. I don't know if I'll be back in time to help. I hope so. I hope I'll still be human enough to care."
He stared at her mouth hanging open. "You can't expect to just walk away?!"
"What do you have to hold me on?" Hebert asked. She spread her arms wide. "I'm not a parahuman. I didn't contact or contract with a parahuman or get anything from a tinker or a trump. I've been assaulted and harassed by the people accusing me for over a year. You have nothing against me except a video that's not even in focus and shows almost nothing. A video that my scary lawyer can refute in moments and I can talk circles around. A video where every word I said has multiple meanings."
His hand twitched. He was a hero. She was all but admitting to having assaulted those three girls. Yes, she was likely a victim too, but that did not give her carte blanche to strike out in a premeditated assault. And yet, she was again correct. He had nothing that would stick.
"Then why?"
"Why not just leave with her? Why stay and say anything more?" Hebert asked.
He didn't dignify that with a response.
Hebert's gaze dropped to the sidewalk, her eyes closing, her shoulders slumping. "Because I really do want you to talk to my dad."
TRUTH
She lifted her head and met his eyes again. "I might see him tomorrow. I might just see a grave. Goodbye Armsmaster. Good luck."
She stepped forward and Armsmaster instinctively back-stepped. He blinked and when he stared forward again… Taylor Hebert was gone. Armsmaster glanced down at the ground, turned on his heel and stalked back into the building.
As he walked to his office, he sent an urgent note to the maintenance staff:
REMOVE MUSHROOM CIRCLE FROM FRONT ENTRANCE. IMMEDIATELY.
AN: So I was recently rereading The Seventh Test, and - after remembering how much I loved this story - I really, really wanted to do a Wormy take on the fae. My betas are putting ideas in my head about this, so I may end up expanding on it later, I'm not sure yet. In the meantime, if you enjoy reading about The Fair Folk, go read The Seventh Test! It's amazing!
The Perfect Girl Ch 2 - The Perfect Warlord
- Location
- Florida
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The Perfect Warlord
"Midtown Stew is back up and running, Soups For Free should be ready to reopen the day after tomorrow. Brockton Exchange still has no power, but they're ready to open their doors anyway. All transactions will just be done in cash; we have some mercenaries ready to guard the store, just to be safe. —"
Skitter listened to Charlotte's report, nodding in the appropriate places as her Assistant ran through their list of civilian projects. Charlotte never sat down at the table when giving her reports, though Skitter had tried to encourage her to do so multiple times. At this point she probably did it just to feel like a butler. Charlotte certainly knew her well enough by now that Skitter didn't have to nod along, but Skitter made the effort anyway. It was important to remember that not everyone was as familiar with her as Charlotte or the Undersiders. Lack of outward response led to poor assumptions. Poor assumptions led to unnecessary fights. Unnecessary fights led to distractions. Distractions led to wasted time.
So, Skitter nodded.
"Have there been any sightings from the civilian side?" She asked, cutting her Assistant off.
Charlotte winced, her notebook dropping to her side as she looked up and met Skitter's gaze. "Even without your mask, you're so intense, you know that?"
"I've been told."
"Mm." Charlotte didn't flinch, though she did sigh. "Taylor, you know that I'd come to you the very moment that I got word. Right?"
Skitter knew. She trusted Charlotte. At this moment she trusted Charlotte more than anyone else, including her teammates. Grue tried to be helpful, but Bonesaw had messed with his head too much to leave him reliable in a pinch. Alec could be trusted in a fight, but never to take things seriously until it actually mattered. Aisha idolized her, but getting her to behave — even when it mattered — was nearly a full-time job. Rachel was a wonderful person, but Skitter knew better than to assume that she would do whatever Skitter said, just because she said it. The less said about their other associates the better.
Charlotte was her best. But still… it didn't hurt to ask.
"With more soup kitchens, thrift stores, and pawn shops opening again, she's bound to frequent one of them soon. See if we can seed some of the older kids as line-workers. Make sure the pay is good. Knock out two birds with one stone."
Charlotte nodded, the frown not leaving her face. "I'll work with Sierra to make sure we have people who need the money first in line for the jobs."
Charlotte fell silent and Skitter stopped moving as she stared up at her Assistant. They met each other's eyes for several long moments. Charlotte had started to fidget before Skitter remembered that she was supposed to be moving too. Shaking her head, she tapped a finger against the table. "Was there something else that needed my attention?"
"When was the last time you slept, Taylor?"
Skitter blinked. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "I'm fine, Charlotte."
"That's not what I asked."
"I sleep enough. I'm fine, Charlotte. Did you need anything else?"
Charlotte clutched her notebook to her chest, heaving a large sigh. "You're not going to be any good to her if you're too exhausted to save her. You have a meeting with the Round Table at 10 and Lady Photon sent word that she would arrive early."
Skitter groaned. "I'm starting to think that New Wave is more trouble than it's worth."
"You never know. Her text did not sound happy, but more like she was upset at the world and not you or herself. For once," Charlotte said. "I don't know. I don't understand that family at all. Oh! One more thing: Biter wanted to know if he could take some mercs to start training the BBPD. They lost a lot of men between Leviathan and the Nine. He thought it would help ingratiate us with the new force better while also building them back up."
"It's a good idea. Have him take the lead, but make sure that Sierra or Bitch gets something else for Barker to do."
Charlotte nodded and left, scribbling notes on her pad on the way out. Skitter glanced at the time and started pulling the remaining bits of her costume on. She still had some leeway before Sarah arrived, but it wouldn't be much. When she had gotten everything else buttoned up and was down to just her helmet remaining, she leaned back, resting her head on the chair, alone with her thoughts. As alone as she could be at any rate. She rubbed her fingers against her temple, allowing her eyes to close and her back to slump.
It was all just so loud.
—don't eat that! It's rotten!
—Can't believe this store escaped damage. You must be touched by an angel, madam.
—Yes! That's right baby! 5+5 is 10!
—sell. If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, Johnson. Sell, sell, sell!
—move, you said. It'll be fine, you said. Don't worry, you said. Well I got the last laugh now didn't I, bitch! Endbringer, Nine, Warlord! You hear they want to condemn the whole place? Hah! Should've listened to me!
—I still can't believe you never told me, Mom. How do you just keep a secret like this from us? After what Amy did, we have a right to know!
Skitter opened her eyes, straightening her posture and reaching for her mask. Free time was up. And apparently Sarah was bringing her daughter today. Glorious. Maybe that was the big news, that Lady Photon was finally going fully public with her team's new backer. Skitter doubted it, but it was possible. It would be a bad play at this point. Without something concrete in their corner first, publicly saying that New Wave was cooperating with a warlord was just going to tank what little was left of their support.
As she finished fastening the mask, Skitter did her best to ignore the quiet drone of the city's chatter. She couldn't afford to let it tune out completely. She could never stop being aware of it. Not yet. One day. Soon. But not yet. First, she needed to find Amy. She needed to hear Amy. She couldn't tip the bitch off.
Slow. Careful. Methodical. You didn't go after a Tinker in their lab, not unless you were prepared. Amy was a Tinker, she'd proven that — her medium just happened to be flesh and bone. Skitter was just grateful her power had been able to do what she had asked of it. The others weren't so adaptable. Maybe they just hadn't been using their abilities correctly? A question for another day. A question for…
The swarm surged, but the movement was brief. Skitter brought them under control in a moment. She would find Amy. One way or another, she would find Amy. And the bitch would never see her coming. She would not be caught unprepared again. She would not have her swarm used against her.
Skitter tamped down on her old wounds as the Pelhams approached. She had a swarm clone pull itself together and open the door for Lady Photon and Laserdream, collapsing it once its purpose was served. Laserdream stared at the bug pile with wide eyes even after the bugs had disappeared. She actually lifted off the ground when her mother grabbed her shoulder and directed her inside.
Skitter eyed the younger hero, tilting her head in an effort to get a modicum of amusement across. "You had to know you were coming to see me. If you're going to be around more often, you should get used to the swarm clones."
"It's a bit different seeing the things in combat and seeing it acting like a butler, thank you," Laserdream muttered. "Can't believe we're here."
Turning to Lady Photon, Skitter said, "You could have let me know you were bringing your daughter. I wouldn't have had to rush for another chair."
Laserdream pointedly looked at each of the dozen or so chairs around the main table. "Sorry to make you work."
"It's no problem. Please, both of you, sit." Skitter gestured towards the seats around the wide table. Laserdream hesitated a second longer before flinging herself into one and dropping her head into her hands, muttering to herself. Lady Photon was slower to sit, but no less violent in her movement as she dropped down. Skitter didn't look away from the leader of New Wave. The older woman had her hands clenched into fists and her mouth was such a thin line that Skitter was amazed she couldn't hear teeth grinding. "You have news? Or a problem?"
"You haven't ever lied to me," Lady Photon said. "You've been upfront and honest every step of the way."
"There's not much point in lying when the lie would be found out in a few days. That's not how you make allies." Sharing only strategic information at specific times however, that wasn't exactly lying. And Sarah had access to most of Skitter's same sources; if she chose not to double check everything, that was her own fault.
"You've supported New Wave when we were falling apart, when we were failing, when we were going under."
"Your team is a source of hope for the city," Skitter said. "I've never been shy about saying how I'm trying to improve things for Brockton Bay." She really wished Sarah would stop wasting time and finish psyching herself up.
"You've been trying to heal Vicky."
"It's the right thing to do." Did they really need to keep rehashing this?
"She probably just wants to make sure that her healers can do their jobs," Laserdream muttered.
Skitter shrugged. That was entirely correct after all. "I can't have more than one reason for things? Yes, getting Scapegoat, Cranial, and Riley to work together is difficult. Yes, the more they do it, the quicker and easier it gets. That doesn't mean helping your cousin isn't also the right thing to do."
"I went to the PRT," Sarah said. Skitter's bugs scented blood. It only took her moments to find the tiny trickle running down Sarah's palm, and dripping onto the table. "I went to them and I asked them point blank what happened to Assault."
Ah. That was it. Sarah had finally, fully flipped. She'd taken the bait and talked to Battery. Now the question was what had prompted that? "I take it you got the official version, then went to chat with Battery?"
"It wasn't Bonesaw!" she hissed.
"I was able to get Cranial in to see him long enough for a brainscan. He's not dead. He's just locked in. Our best guess is that Amy stopped all non-autonomic impulses. Or something. I didn't understand exactly what she was talking about."
Laserdream's head finally lifted from her hands. She swiveled from staring at her mother to Skitter and back again. "What the hell is this?"
"We have a plan in place to help. Scapegoat might work, but we're about 85% sure that Riley is going to have to replace most of his nervous system. It's not going to be fast, but it will work. We just need to get him out of PRT custody first. Battery is working on that. If you could convince your sister to help with the legal side, I'm sure she'd appreciate it. I'd prefer not to do a smash and grab when the person we're grabbing is bedridden."
"I'll talk to Carol," Sarah murmured. "The PRT will have so much red tape they'll let Battery move him just to avoid the paperwork."
"What convinced you to —"
"What about the condemnation threat?" Sarah asked, cutting Skitter off. She had the swarm buzz for a few seconds. She'd allow it this time, Sarah was obviously upset, but it couldn't become a regular incident. As both Pelhams looked around for the hiding bugs, Skitter let them quiet down, then answered.
"I called their bluff, and they backed down. It helps that we've been restoring services and facilities faster than many other towns hit by Endbringers. We get a lot done when we all work together."
"When there's only one gang and that gang rules the city you mean," Laserdream snapped.
Skitter nodded. "Yes. I don't kidnap people. I don't have sex slaves. I don't ship people to Germany for brainwashing. I don't forcibly recruit children to fight rage dragons and murderhobos."
"They just do it willingly."
"Yes. They do. Because this is their home."
Laserdream and Skitter just stared at each other, both utterly silent.
"My daughter saw Amy and… her victim on the Boardwalk an hour ago."
Skitter stopped breathing. The cacophony of the city surged to a fever pitch, every conversation in perfect clarity. She very deliberately placed her hands on the table, palms down. "You didn't lead with this information, Lady Photon?" Skitter asked, slow, careful, methodical.
"I don't know where they went," Laserdream said. Skitter's head twisted just enough to center Laserdream in her sight. Slowly, carefully, methodically. Laserdream was staring at the table, blinking rapidly, a sheen over her eyes that she hurriedly wiped at. She sniffled as she continued, voice soft, "I think Amy was going to… do something to me too. If I got too close. I tried to convince her to come with me. I didn't really believe all of this crap — you know, about you being a good warlord, or Amy running around with a brainwashed slave. But, oh my god, she looks just like Vicky! But it's not Vicky! It's not. She didn't talk like Vicky at all. She kept trying to push Amy to stand down, but, but, it — And then I was going to try and grab her and — I think your friend saved my life!" Laserdream broke down in muffled sobs. She held a hand over her mouth, turning away from them all.
Sarah laid a hand on her daughter's shaking back and met Skitter's gaze. "Amy has to be stopped. I know that Piggot lobbied hard for the Birdcage behind closed doors. But… she was willing to go after her cousin too! Not just villains, not just a hero in the wrong place at the wrong time, we still don't even know what she did to Vicky. She was willing to turn my daughter into… into —" She couldn't complete the sentence. She gasped, taking multiple rapid breaths.
Skitter nodded. At least this time she remembered to emote. "I'm glad you understand, but I'm sorry that it had to happen like this for it to become apparent how far she's fallen."
"What can we do?" Sarah asked, her voice so quiet Skitter almost couldn't hear her.
"Stand by. You said she was by the Boardwalk, I have a search location now. I can find her. Give me a few hours. I'll get the others on alert too."
Laserdream faced Skitter again, her makeup running, but she looked more confident now. "What others? Who else can we count on? We'll need long range and we'll need someone who can be fast. I'm… I don't think I can… I can't do it myself. I'm sorry, but I can't."
"I'll do it. If she doesn't fix my- my friend, then I'll do it myself."
Sarah's eyes widened. "But, you're —"
"I'm running a city. I'm old enough to save the people I care about, thank you," Skitter stated. She looked at Laserdream. "And to answer your question, I expect Battery and Dauntless will join us. The two of you. You can plan for Grue and Regent on the operation as well. Regent is a good counter for Amy in the event that things go wrong. Grue for similar reasons if with a more generally defensive-minded focus rather than offensive."
Sarah licked her lips, her breathing shaky. "This is moving very fast."
"Yes. But you knew it would, that's why you didn't tell me this at the start and got the other business out of the way first."
Skitter found Charlotte sitting at her desk, tapping at her computer. It sounded like two of the kids were in the room playing with a train set too. She didn't want to scare the kids; it was unnecessary. Pulling the bugs in the room, she formed a message on Charlotte's screen.
Cancel the Round Table meeting. High alert for Team A. Ready to move with five minute warning. Heading to the docks to start intensive, directed search. You're in charge until Sierra gets back.
"Got it, Boss," Charlotte said. "And if Dauntless pushes back that it's short notice?"
Remind him who helped with his custody paperwork and who gave him a new apartment and is still helping with his bills while the PRT 'processes his promotion'.
Charlotte snorted. "Can't believe I used to think they were competent. Happy hunting, Boss. Good luck."
Skitter scoffed, she wouldn't need it. She had a starting point now. It was only a matter of time.
//\\(00)//\\ //\\(00)//\\ //\\(00)//\\
Plant golems. Gloriously loud. Gloriously stupid. Leaving the Merchants alone had been the right choice. She'd been hoping for weeks that Tattletale would be able to figure out a way to take advantage of the idiots. Send a message. Somehow. That there was enough of her left to understand why the Merchants had been allowed to remain.
And now she had. Amy had gone loud. Almost definitely at Tattletale's prompting. It had taken another wasted day, but what was one more day? Especially when there were finally, finally results.
The team was closing in, the net would snap shut just as soon as the bitch walked through into her building. Finding the right one had been easy. It was the only one with liveable apartments on Amy's path. How she had managed to stay ahead of the Undersiders for so long when she was this incompetent boggled the mind. But it didn't matter. What mattered was that Skitter had her now.
She had her.
She should just kill Amy right away. She shouldn't risk letting that bitch touch her. Not again. Never again. Never. Again.
But.
But Cranial mostly dealt with memories. Riley was good, but she was still Bonesaw and the less that Skitter had to rely on her the better. Scapegoat was always a hit and miss. His power could be wonderful, but the changes to Tattletale had gone so far, he could be entirely useless, he could even potentially make things worse.
No, no better to see if she could still convince Amy to cooperate. A final act of compassion from a doomed soul.
But what if she implanted a time bomb? What if there already was a time bomb that tied Tattletale to Amy?
What if, what if, what if. Skitter bit her tongue until she tasted blood. She couldn't be bogged down in hypotheticals. Amy was obsessed. Skitter would use that obsession. Slowly. Carefully. Methodically.
She would save Tattletale. One way or the other.
//\\(00)//\\ //\\(00)//\\ //\\(00)//\\
"You took your damn time," Lisa whispered. Her hands were shaking. Skitter — no — I wanted to scream. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen Lisa terrified. Even when we were facing down an Endbringer, she had been all haughty smirks and arrogant boasts.
A knife was too good for Amy. Too quick, too clean.
"I know," I murmured, just as quiet. Everything in me wanted to reach out and hold her, but I was sure that was the last thing she wanted right now. "I'm sorry. I don't think we would have found her without you."
"The Order is already cleared? Nothing more lenient?" Lisa asked. Of course she knew about the Birdcage order. She tightened her arms around herself. It was good that she already had the knife. If I hadn't already given it to her I would have stabbed Amy already.
"Technically it's a Birdcage sentence," I replied, wincing. Remember to emote. Remember to emote. I had to remember to emote. Lisa's entire body violently shook at my words. I rushed to continue, "But tonight I only brought people directly impacted by her or loyal to us. Grue, Regent, Laserdream, Lady Photon, Battery, and Dauntless are outside. Just in case I was subsumed too. None of them are going to look twice. You're clear."
Amy picked herself up just enough to stare at me through my mask. She was lucky I didn't have a Blaster power. She was lucky I hadn't had time to figure out how to train my power into adapting one of those as well as a Shaker rating. "You said you'd let me live," Amy whimpered.
"I said I wanted her back more than I cared about you. I made no promises for what happened after." I let a small glimpse of my hatred loose into the swarm, and a cacophony of wings and buzzing, whistling and chirping echoed from all sides. I pulled back almost immediately and glanced at Lisa, biting my lip. She'd barely reacted. If anything, her shoulders had seemed to loosen somewhat hearing the rage of my swarm. Okay, I could lean into that a bit. "Your grace period expired when you walked away from Laserdream. She came to us after."
"I never… I never meant to hurt anyone…"
Lisa's knuckles whitened as she gripped the knife handle. She stepped out from behind me, and moved towards Amy. I shadowed her, moving as much of my swarm as close as I dared. Amy's power wasn't instant. If she tried anything…
Lisa crouched down in front of Amy. Her hands weren't shaking anymore. "I know you didn't. Goodbye, Amy."
Tears fell from Amy's face as Lisa drove the knife home. As the fabled healer let out a last gasp, Lisa's fingers dropped the knife and she turned, burying her face in my shoulder. I carefully wrapped my arms around her as she cried. Together we sank to the floor of the apartment.
"I got you. I got you, Lise."
Only then did I allow my own tears to fall.
"I'm right here, Lisa. I got you. And I'm not letting you go again."
"Midtown Stew is back up and running, Soups For Free should be ready to reopen the day after tomorrow. Brockton Exchange still has no power, but they're ready to open their doors anyway. All transactions will just be done in cash; we have some mercenaries ready to guard the store, just to be safe. —"
Skitter listened to Charlotte's report, nodding in the appropriate places as her Assistant ran through their list of civilian projects. Charlotte never sat down at the table when giving her reports, though Skitter had tried to encourage her to do so multiple times. At this point she probably did it just to feel like a butler. Charlotte certainly knew her well enough by now that Skitter didn't have to nod along, but Skitter made the effort anyway. It was important to remember that not everyone was as familiar with her as Charlotte or the Undersiders. Lack of outward response led to poor assumptions. Poor assumptions led to unnecessary fights. Unnecessary fights led to distractions. Distractions led to wasted time.
So, Skitter nodded.
"Have there been any sightings from the civilian side?" She asked, cutting her Assistant off.
Charlotte winced, her notebook dropping to her side as she looked up and met Skitter's gaze. "Even without your mask, you're so intense, you know that?"
"I've been told."
"Mm." Charlotte didn't flinch, though she did sigh. "Taylor, you know that I'd come to you the very moment that I got word. Right?"
Skitter knew. She trusted Charlotte. At this moment she trusted Charlotte more than anyone else, including her teammates. Grue tried to be helpful, but Bonesaw had messed with his head too much to leave him reliable in a pinch. Alec could be trusted in a fight, but never to take things seriously until it actually mattered. Aisha idolized her, but getting her to behave — even when it mattered — was nearly a full-time job. Rachel was a wonderful person, but Skitter knew better than to assume that she would do whatever Skitter said, just because she said it. The less said about their other associates the better.
Charlotte was her best. But still… it didn't hurt to ask.
"With more soup kitchens, thrift stores, and pawn shops opening again, she's bound to frequent one of them soon. See if we can seed some of the older kids as line-workers. Make sure the pay is good. Knock out two birds with one stone."
Charlotte nodded, the frown not leaving her face. "I'll work with Sierra to make sure we have people who need the money first in line for the jobs."
Charlotte fell silent and Skitter stopped moving as she stared up at her Assistant. They met each other's eyes for several long moments. Charlotte had started to fidget before Skitter remembered that she was supposed to be moving too. Shaking her head, she tapped a finger against the table. "Was there something else that needed my attention?"
"When was the last time you slept, Taylor?"
Skitter blinked. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "I'm fine, Charlotte."
"That's not what I asked."
"I sleep enough. I'm fine, Charlotte. Did you need anything else?"
Charlotte clutched her notebook to her chest, heaving a large sigh. "You're not going to be any good to her if you're too exhausted to save her. You have a meeting with the Round Table at 10 and Lady Photon sent word that she would arrive early."
Skitter groaned. "I'm starting to think that New Wave is more trouble than it's worth."
"You never know. Her text did not sound happy, but more like she was upset at the world and not you or herself. For once," Charlotte said. "I don't know. I don't understand that family at all. Oh! One more thing: Biter wanted to know if he could take some mercs to start training the BBPD. They lost a lot of men between Leviathan and the Nine. He thought it would help ingratiate us with the new force better while also building them back up."
"It's a good idea. Have him take the lead, but make sure that Sierra or Bitch gets something else for Barker to do."
Charlotte nodded and left, scribbling notes on her pad on the way out. Skitter glanced at the time and started pulling the remaining bits of her costume on. She still had some leeway before Sarah arrived, but it wouldn't be much. When she had gotten everything else buttoned up and was down to just her helmet remaining, she leaned back, resting her head on the chair, alone with her thoughts. As alone as she could be at any rate. She rubbed her fingers against her temple, allowing her eyes to close and her back to slump.
It was all just so loud.
—don't eat that! It's rotten!
—Can't believe this store escaped damage. You must be touched by an angel, madam.
—Yes! That's right baby! 5+5 is 10!
—sell. If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, Johnson. Sell, sell, sell!
—move, you said. It'll be fine, you said. Don't worry, you said. Well I got the last laugh now didn't I, bitch! Endbringer, Nine, Warlord! You hear they want to condemn the whole place? Hah! Should've listened to me!
—I still can't believe you never told me, Mom. How do you just keep a secret like this from us? After what Amy did, we have a right to know!
Skitter opened her eyes, straightening her posture and reaching for her mask. Free time was up. And apparently Sarah was bringing her daughter today. Glorious. Maybe that was the big news, that Lady Photon was finally going fully public with her team's new backer. Skitter doubted it, but it was possible. It would be a bad play at this point. Without something concrete in their corner first, publicly saying that New Wave was cooperating with a warlord was just going to tank what little was left of their support.
As she finished fastening the mask, Skitter did her best to ignore the quiet drone of the city's chatter. She couldn't afford to let it tune out completely. She could never stop being aware of it. Not yet. One day. Soon. But not yet. First, she needed to find Amy. She needed to hear Amy. She couldn't tip the bitch off.
Slow. Careful. Methodical. You didn't go after a Tinker in their lab, not unless you were prepared. Amy was a Tinker, she'd proven that — her medium just happened to be flesh and bone. Skitter was just grateful her power had been able to do what she had asked of it. The others weren't so adaptable. Maybe they just hadn't been using their abilities correctly? A question for another day. A question for…
The swarm surged, but the movement was brief. Skitter brought them under control in a moment. She would find Amy. One way or another, she would find Amy. And the bitch would never see her coming. She would not be caught unprepared again. She would not have her swarm used against her.
Skitter tamped down on her old wounds as the Pelhams approached. She had a swarm clone pull itself together and open the door for Lady Photon and Laserdream, collapsing it once its purpose was served. Laserdream stared at the bug pile with wide eyes even after the bugs had disappeared. She actually lifted off the ground when her mother grabbed her shoulder and directed her inside.
Skitter eyed the younger hero, tilting her head in an effort to get a modicum of amusement across. "You had to know you were coming to see me. If you're going to be around more often, you should get used to the swarm clones."
"It's a bit different seeing the things in combat and seeing it acting like a butler, thank you," Laserdream muttered. "Can't believe we're here."
Turning to Lady Photon, Skitter said, "You could have let me know you were bringing your daughter. I wouldn't have had to rush for another chair."
Laserdream pointedly looked at each of the dozen or so chairs around the main table. "Sorry to make you work."
"It's no problem. Please, both of you, sit." Skitter gestured towards the seats around the wide table. Laserdream hesitated a second longer before flinging herself into one and dropping her head into her hands, muttering to herself. Lady Photon was slower to sit, but no less violent in her movement as she dropped down. Skitter didn't look away from the leader of New Wave. The older woman had her hands clenched into fists and her mouth was such a thin line that Skitter was amazed she couldn't hear teeth grinding. "You have news? Or a problem?"
"You haven't ever lied to me," Lady Photon said. "You've been upfront and honest every step of the way."
"There's not much point in lying when the lie would be found out in a few days. That's not how you make allies." Sharing only strategic information at specific times however, that wasn't exactly lying. And Sarah had access to most of Skitter's same sources; if she chose not to double check everything, that was her own fault.
"You've supported New Wave when we were falling apart, when we were failing, when we were going under."
"Your team is a source of hope for the city," Skitter said. "I've never been shy about saying how I'm trying to improve things for Brockton Bay." She really wished Sarah would stop wasting time and finish psyching herself up.
"You've been trying to heal Vicky."
"It's the right thing to do." Did they really need to keep rehashing this?
"She probably just wants to make sure that her healers can do their jobs," Laserdream muttered.
Skitter shrugged. That was entirely correct after all. "I can't have more than one reason for things? Yes, getting Scapegoat, Cranial, and Riley to work together is difficult. Yes, the more they do it, the quicker and easier it gets. That doesn't mean helping your cousin isn't also the right thing to do."
"I went to the PRT," Sarah said. Skitter's bugs scented blood. It only took her moments to find the tiny trickle running down Sarah's palm, and dripping onto the table. "I went to them and I asked them point blank what happened to Assault."
Ah. That was it. Sarah had finally, fully flipped. She'd taken the bait and talked to Battery. Now the question was what had prompted that? "I take it you got the official version, then went to chat with Battery?"
"It wasn't Bonesaw!" she hissed.
"I was able to get Cranial in to see him long enough for a brainscan. He's not dead. He's just locked in. Our best guess is that Amy stopped all non-autonomic impulses. Or something. I didn't understand exactly what she was talking about."
Laserdream's head finally lifted from her hands. She swiveled from staring at her mother to Skitter and back again. "What the hell is this?"
"We have a plan in place to help. Scapegoat might work, but we're about 85% sure that Riley is going to have to replace most of his nervous system. It's not going to be fast, but it will work. We just need to get him out of PRT custody first. Battery is working on that. If you could convince your sister to help with the legal side, I'm sure she'd appreciate it. I'd prefer not to do a smash and grab when the person we're grabbing is bedridden."
"I'll talk to Carol," Sarah murmured. "The PRT will have so much red tape they'll let Battery move him just to avoid the paperwork."
"What convinced you to —"
"What about the condemnation threat?" Sarah asked, cutting Skitter off. She had the swarm buzz for a few seconds. She'd allow it this time, Sarah was obviously upset, but it couldn't become a regular incident. As both Pelhams looked around for the hiding bugs, Skitter let them quiet down, then answered.
"I called their bluff, and they backed down. It helps that we've been restoring services and facilities faster than many other towns hit by Endbringers. We get a lot done when we all work together."
"When there's only one gang and that gang rules the city you mean," Laserdream snapped.
Skitter nodded. "Yes. I don't kidnap people. I don't have sex slaves. I don't ship people to Germany for brainwashing. I don't forcibly recruit children to fight rage dragons and murderhobos."
"They just do it willingly."
"Yes. They do. Because this is their home."
Laserdream and Skitter just stared at each other, both utterly silent.
"My daughter saw Amy and… her victim on the Boardwalk an hour ago."
Skitter stopped breathing. The cacophony of the city surged to a fever pitch, every conversation in perfect clarity. She very deliberately placed her hands on the table, palms down. "You didn't lead with this information, Lady Photon?" Skitter asked, slow, careful, methodical.
"I don't know where they went," Laserdream said. Skitter's head twisted just enough to center Laserdream in her sight. Slowly, carefully, methodically. Laserdream was staring at the table, blinking rapidly, a sheen over her eyes that she hurriedly wiped at. She sniffled as she continued, voice soft, "I think Amy was going to… do something to me too. If I got too close. I tried to convince her to come with me. I didn't really believe all of this crap — you know, about you being a good warlord, or Amy running around with a brainwashed slave. But, oh my god, she looks just like Vicky! But it's not Vicky! It's not. She didn't talk like Vicky at all. She kept trying to push Amy to stand down, but, but, it — And then I was going to try and grab her and — I think your friend saved my life!" Laserdream broke down in muffled sobs. She held a hand over her mouth, turning away from them all.
Sarah laid a hand on her daughter's shaking back and met Skitter's gaze. "Amy has to be stopped. I know that Piggot lobbied hard for the Birdcage behind closed doors. But… she was willing to go after her cousin too! Not just villains, not just a hero in the wrong place at the wrong time, we still don't even know what she did to Vicky. She was willing to turn my daughter into… into —" She couldn't complete the sentence. She gasped, taking multiple rapid breaths.
Skitter nodded. At least this time she remembered to emote. "I'm glad you understand, but I'm sorry that it had to happen like this for it to become apparent how far she's fallen."
"What can we do?" Sarah asked, her voice so quiet Skitter almost couldn't hear her.
"Stand by. You said she was by the Boardwalk, I have a search location now. I can find her. Give me a few hours. I'll get the others on alert too."
Laserdream faced Skitter again, her makeup running, but she looked more confident now. "What others? Who else can we count on? We'll need long range and we'll need someone who can be fast. I'm… I don't think I can… I can't do it myself. I'm sorry, but I can't."
"I'll do it. If she doesn't fix my- my friend, then I'll do it myself."
Sarah's eyes widened. "But, you're —"
"I'm running a city. I'm old enough to save the people I care about, thank you," Skitter stated. She looked at Laserdream. "And to answer your question, I expect Battery and Dauntless will join us. The two of you. You can plan for Grue and Regent on the operation as well. Regent is a good counter for Amy in the event that things go wrong. Grue for similar reasons if with a more generally defensive-minded focus rather than offensive."
Sarah licked her lips, her breathing shaky. "This is moving very fast."
"Yes. But you knew it would, that's why you didn't tell me this at the start and got the other business out of the way first."
Skitter found Charlotte sitting at her desk, tapping at her computer. It sounded like two of the kids were in the room playing with a train set too. She didn't want to scare the kids; it was unnecessary. Pulling the bugs in the room, she formed a message on Charlotte's screen.
Cancel the Round Table meeting. High alert for Team A. Ready to move with five minute warning. Heading to the docks to start intensive, directed search. You're in charge until Sierra gets back.
"Got it, Boss," Charlotte said. "And if Dauntless pushes back that it's short notice?"
Remind him who helped with his custody paperwork and who gave him a new apartment and is still helping with his bills while the PRT 'processes his promotion'.
Charlotte snorted. "Can't believe I used to think they were competent. Happy hunting, Boss. Good luck."
Skitter scoffed, she wouldn't need it. She had a starting point now. It was only a matter of time.
//\\(00)//\\ //\\(00)//\\ //\\(00)//\\
Plant golems. Gloriously loud. Gloriously stupid. Leaving the Merchants alone had been the right choice. She'd been hoping for weeks that Tattletale would be able to figure out a way to take advantage of the idiots. Send a message. Somehow. That there was enough of her left to understand why the Merchants had been allowed to remain.
And now she had. Amy had gone loud. Almost definitely at Tattletale's prompting. It had taken another wasted day, but what was one more day? Especially when there were finally, finally results.
The team was closing in, the net would snap shut just as soon as the bitch walked through into her building. Finding the right one had been easy. It was the only one with liveable apartments on Amy's path. How she had managed to stay ahead of the Undersiders for so long when she was this incompetent boggled the mind. But it didn't matter. What mattered was that Skitter had her now.
She had her.
She should just kill Amy right away. She shouldn't risk letting that bitch touch her. Not again. Never again. Never. Again.
But.
But Cranial mostly dealt with memories. Riley was good, but she was still Bonesaw and the less that Skitter had to rely on her the better. Scapegoat was always a hit and miss. His power could be wonderful, but the changes to Tattletale had gone so far, he could be entirely useless, he could even potentially make things worse.
No, no better to see if she could still convince Amy to cooperate. A final act of compassion from a doomed soul.
But what if she implanted a time bomb? What if there already was a time bomb that tied Tattletale to Amy?
What if, what if, what if. Skitter bit her tongue until she tasted blood. She couldn't be bogged down in hypotheticals. Amy was obsessed. Skitter would use that obsession. Slowly. Carefully. Methodically.
She would save Tattletale. One way or the other.
//\\(00)//\\ //\\(00)//\\ //\\(00)//\\
"You took your damn time," Lisa whispered. Her hands were shaking. Skitter — no — I wanted to scream. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen Lisa terrified. Even when we were facing down an Endbringer, she had been all haughty smirks and arrogant boasts.
A knife was too good for Amy. Too quick, too clean.
"I know," I murmured, just as quiet. Everything in me wanted to reach out and hold her, but I was sure that was the last thing she wanted right now. "I'm sorry. I don't think we would have found her without you."
"The Order is already cleared? Nothing more lenient?" Lisa asked. Of course she knew about the Birdcage order. She tightened her arms around herself. It was good that she already had the knife. If I hadn't already given it to her I would have stabbed Amy already.
"Technically it's a Birdcage sentence," I replied, wincing. Remember to emote. Remember to emote. I had to remember to emote. Lisa's entire body violently shook at my words. I rushed to continue, "But tonight I only brought people directly impacted by her or loyal to us. Grue, Regent, Laserdream, Lady Photon, Battery, and Dauntless are outside. Just in case I was subsumed too. None of them are going to look twice. You're clear."
Amy picked herself up just enough to stare at me through my mask. She was lucky I didn't have a Blaster power. She was lucky I hadn't had time to figure out how to train my power into adapting one of those as well as a Shaker rating. "You said you'd let me live," Amy whimpered.
"I said I wanted her back more than I cared about you. I made no promises for what happened after." I let a small glimpse of my hatred loose into the swarm, and a cacophony of wings and buzzing, whistling and chirping echoed from all sides. I pulled back almost immediately and glanced at Lisa, biting my lip. She'd barely reacted. If anything, her shoulders had seemed to loosen somewhat hearing the rage of my swarm. Okay, I could lean into that a bit. "Your grace period expired when you walked away from Laserdream. She came to us after."
"I never… I never meant to hurt anyone…"
Lisa's knuckles whitened as she gripped the knife handle. She stepped out from behind me, and moved towards Amy. I shadowed her, moving as much of my swarm as close as I dared. Amy's power wasn't instant. If she tried anything…
Lisa crouched down in front of Amy. Her hands weren't shaking anymore. "I know you didn't. Goodbye, Amy."
Tears fell from Amy's face as Lisa drove the knife home. As the fabled healer let out a last gasp, Lisa's fingers dropped the knife and she turned, burying her face in my shoulder. I carefully wrapped my arms around her as she cried. Together we sank to the floor of the apartment.
"I got you. I got you, Lise."
Only then did I allow my own tears to fall.
"I'm right here, Lisa. I got you. And I'm not letting you go again."
Families That Tinker Together - 1 Rebuilt
- Location
- Florida
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Summary: Several months ago, Taylor was orphaned. Several months ago, Colin Wallis got a taste of mortality and he didn't much like it. Now, two hurt people attempt to form a new family together.
AN: This story will not really be like most of my others. It's intended to be more of a collection of vignettes into the lives of Taylor and Colin. Some will be really short, some will be a bit longer. I have two already written. When I get up to four I'll give it its own thread.
Rebuilt
The slam of the front door, followed swiftly by the drumming of feet echoing through the halls roused Colin from his work. "Too fast…" Colin frowned, set aside his tools, and closed down the workbench. As it folded up, he paced towards the kitchen.
"Taylor? How was… Dammit."
"School sucks. I don't want to go anymore; I have homeschool paperwork, I left it on your desk. You don't have to do it yourself, I already talked to Marcus." She spilled out all in one breath. As she paused to inhale a great gulp of air, Colin moved forward and helped her take the top off of the microwave. He winced as Taylor's hand snapped into the exposed circuitry.
"Marcus?"
"Works on the third floor; radio guy. Blue hair."
"Ah, Marcus." He'd have to ask around to see why his daughter was running around the Communication department and no one had sought to inform him. "And why would I not want to help you myself?"
"Too busy. Too important. Don't want you to have to waste time. You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't have to see. Why aren't you working?"
She scowled, the item in her hand emitting blue sparks. He helped her blow out the embers before anything could catch fire and handed her the glass plate as she reached for it.
Choosing to believe that she had been asking him the question, Colin shrugged. "I changed shifts. I wanted to be at home for the new semester."
Taylor's hands froze. She hung there, her breath coming in hitched gasps. After a seeming eternity, they flew back into motion, faster than before. "Oh."
"Do you have enough of those components?"
"Yes."
"What does it do?" he asked, voice soft.
She snapped the lid onto her device, the black plastic of the microwave's door looking like it was always made to fit there. "Fixes broken things," Taylor whispered. She held it out towards the corner cabinet.
He'd been meaning to fix that for weeks.
She pressed the power button in the center, and a blue beam shot towards the door. Colin couldn't care less, his focus centered on his daughter. He leaned forward, putting his hand on one of hers as she dropped the device back onto the table. Her other hand reached up and wiped at her eyes.
"Doesn't work on people. I can't figure out how to make it work on people. Why won't it work on people? Why can't I figure out how to make it work on Emma? Why can't I make it work on me?"
"Because you're not broken, Taylor. You're not broken at all."
Yet, as Colin stared down at the remains of the microwave on their kitchen table, he knew the truth.
But that didn't matter. He would help her stand back up again.
AN: This story will not really be like most of my others. It's intended to be more of a collection of vignettes into the lives of Taylor and Colin. Some will be really short, some will be a bit longer. I have two already written. When I get up to four I'll give it its own thread.
Rebuilt
The slam of the front door, followed swiftly by the drumming of feet echoing through the halls roused Colin from his work. "Too fast…" Colin frowned, set aside his tools, and closed down the workbench. As it folded up, he paced towards the kitchen.
"Taylor? How was… Dammit."
"School sucks. I don't want to go anymore; I have homeschool paperwork, I left it on your desk. You don't have to do it yourself, I already talked to Marcus." She spilled out all in one breath. As she paused to inhale a great gulp of air, Colin moved forward and helped her take the top off of the microwave. He winced as Taylor's hand snapped into the exposed circuitry.
"Marcus?"
"Works on the third floor; radio guy. Blue hair."
"Ah, Marcus." He'd have to ask around to see why his daughter was running around the Communication department and no one had sought to inform him. "And why would I not want to help you myself?"
"Too busy. Too important. Don't want you to have to waste time. You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't have to see. Why aren't you working?"
She scowled, the item in her hand emitting blue sparks. He helped her blow out the embers before anything could catch fire and handed her the glass plate as she reached for it.
Choosing to believe that she had been asking him the question, Colin shrugged. "I changed shifts. I wanted to be at home for the new semester."
Taylor's hands froze. She hung there, her breath coming in hitched gasps. After a seeming eternity, they flew back into motion, faster than before. "Oh."
"Do you have enough of those components?"
"Yes."
"What does it do?" he asked, voice soft.
She snapped the lid onto her device, the black plastic of the microwave's door looking like it was always made to fit there. "Fixes broken things," Taylor whispered. She held it out towards the corner cabinet.
He'd been meaning to fix that for weeks.
She pressed the power button in the center, and a blue beam shot towards the door. Colin couldn't care less, his focus centered on his daughter. He leaned forward, putting his hand on one of hers as she dropped the device back onto the table. Her other hand reached up and wiped at her eyes.
"Doesn't work on people. I can't figure out how to make it work on people. Why won't it work on people? Why can't I figure out how to make it work on Emma? Why can't I make it work on me?"
"Because you're not broken, Taylor. You're not broken at all."
Yet, as Colin stared down at the remains of the microwave on their kitchen table, he knew the truth.
But that didn't matter. He would help her stand back up again.
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Families That Tinker Together - 2 Repair
- Location
- Florida
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Repair
"Did anyone know that Halbeard had a kid? What the hell is that? No wonder she's so quiet. I would hate to have that robot for a dad." Dennis inclined his head towards their newest member. Taylor was sitting at their coffee table, slotting something metallic into her doohickey. Chris was acting the love-struck idiot of course. At least Carlos and Dean were on his side.
Dean shrugged. "Word around the office was that he adopted someone after the Behemoth fight. That was… three months ago?"
"'Word around the office'? What, are you an intern or something? Are you gonna talk about quarterly reports next? Jesus man."
"I am an intern, actually." Dean's statement brought Dennis up short and Carlos' neck cracked as he twisted to stare at their friend also. "What? My father says it builds character. It's only for a few hours each week. Doesn't everyone do that?"
Carlos snorted. "No. We're busy enough with the Wards and school stuff. How do you have the time for that and still get dates with Vicky?"
"Don't ask," he muttered. "Anyway, we shouldn't rag on Armsmaster. He's obviously been good to her."
"She triggered. How good a dad could the man possibly be?" Dennis countered.
Carlos glared at him, shaking his head. "Dude. Not cool."
Dennis paused, grimaced and nodded. "Yeah, okay, that may have been a bit uncalled for. Still, I wouldn't want Halbeard for a dad."
"Yet he acts fast," Carlos said. His gaze lingered on Taylor, his shoulders slumping. "I didn't even know people could be jailed that fast. I almost feel sorry for Sophia."
"We should have spoken up," Dean murmured. "We knew she had problems but we all stayed quiet."
"Oh bullshit," Dennis snapped. "Nothing was proven and he just went on his kid's word over her's. Nepotism, that's what it is. Watch, Sophia will be back in a week and Taylor will be crying in a corner because her daddy can't protect her."
Carlos looked at him again, massaging his temple. "Dennis, as your friend, I'm telling you to stop thinking with your dick for five minutes. As your boss, I'm telling you that if you say anything like that to our new Ward, I'm going to have to write you up. And we all know how Piggot takes that sort of thing. Let alone how Armsmaster would respond to hearing that his daughter was being bullied here within two days of being signed up."
"Yeah, yeah. Zip it, I got it. Whatever you say, boss." Favoritism on the left, favoritism on the right; everyone got to play favorites. Everyone but him. No one cared that his dad was still stuck in the ICU when —
"Oh." Taylor's soft declaration and straightened back drew everyone's attention.
Chris' grin widened to disgusting levels as he leaned over and looked at her stupid device. "Oh what?"
"I can fix Dean's armor…" she murmured.
"That makes sense. Most tinkers can at least do basic maintenance on other tinker stuff to some degree."
"No. I can fix his armor. It moves."
Dennis had started to fire off his typical snarky reply about Dean getting more girls, but the comment died in his throat, a mere gasp escaping from his lips. The quiet in the room was oppressive as the implications of what their newest teammate was saying sank in.
"That," Chris started, stopped to wet his lips, and restarted, "that doesn't sound like a fix, Taylor."
"I think… I think I can 'fix' the building too. It has windows. And doors. And cars move too fast, I could fix them too. Oh. Oh that's… I need to talk to Colin."
She grabbed her domino mask and flew out the door before the rest of them could even move.
Dennis stared at the door out of the room as it slammed shut again, his mouth suddenly dry. "Did the new girl just say that she could lock everyone down by considering it 'fixing' us? What sort of bullshit tinker specialization is that?"
Carlos was already pulling out his phone and stabbing the buttons. "Always said that tinker powers were broken. Good thing you haven't pissed her off yet, huh?" He held the phone to his ear and started talking again, "Sir, Repair is coming to your lab. She'll likely be there very shortly. Uh, I assume so. She kind of ran out before any of us could offer to show her the way. Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir. I'll make sure that Kid Win puts her tools where she can find them."
As he hung up, Carlos got up and started walking towards Chris. Their abandoned friend was already reaching for the scattered debris, while yelling to Carlos, "I heard, man. I got it."
Dennis shook his head, groaning. "Great, now there's three of them. Just fucking perfect."
Carlos glanced over his shoulder, shaking his head. "I heard that!"
Dennis fell forward onto the countertop, grumbling. "Of course you did."
AN: So the general idea of Taylor's power is that it's somewhat similarly 'restricted' as Kenzie's. Now, I've never read Ward, I have no intention of reading Ward, and whenever explained, most people just say that Kenzie's powers essentially equate to 'if it has a camera somewhere on it so that she can pretend it counts as "this thing is a camera!" then she can make it into a tinker tool'. Considering QA loves Taylor and Taylor tends to do Taylor munchinky things no matter what you give her, this seems like a fair interpretation of what QA would give her. Her main limit is No People.
Generally speaking, this is not going to matter much at all and is largely flavor. This series of is not intended to be a huge MC Fixes Everything, it's just going to be a fluffy view at Taylor and Colin at various points with some outside perspectives every now and then to give context. We all need more fluff in the world right now.
"Did anyone know that Halbeard had a kid? What the hell is that? No wonder she's so quiet. I would hate to have that robot for a dad." Dennis inclined his head towards their newest member. Taylor was sitting at their coffee table, slotting something metallic into her doohickey. Chris was acting the love-struck idiot of course. At least Carlos and Dean were on his side.
Dean shrugged. "Word around the office was that he adopted someone after the Behemoth fight. That was… three months ago?"
"'Word around the office'? What, are you an intern or something? Are you gonna talk about quarterly reports next? Jesus man."
"I am an intern, actually." Dean's statement brought Dennis up short and Carlos' neck cracked as he twisted to stare at their friend also. "What? My father says it builds character. It's only for a few hours each week. Doesn't everyone do that?"
Carlos snorted. "No. We're busy enough with the Wards and school stuff. How do you have the time for that and still get dates with Vicky?"
"Don't ask," he muttered. "Anyway, we shouldn't rag on Armsmaster. He's obviously been good to her."
"She triggered. How good a dad could the man possibly be?" Dennis countered.
Carlos glared at him, shaking his head. "Dude. Not cool."
Dennis paused, grimaced and nodded. "Yeah, okay, that may have been a bit uncalled for. Still, I wouldn't want Halbeard for a dad."
"Yet he acts fast," Carlos said. His gaze lingered on Taylor, his shoulders slumping. "I didn't even know people could be jailed that fast. I almost feel sorry for Sophia."
"We should have spoken up," Dean murmured. "We knew she had problems but we all stayed quiet."
"Oh bullshit," Dennis snapped. "Nothing was proven and he just went on his kid's word over her's. Nepotism, that's what it is. Watch, Sophia will be back in a week and Taylor will be crying in a corner because her daddy can't protect her."
Carlos looked at him again, massaging his temple. "Dennis, as your friend, I'm telling you to stop thinking with your dick for five minutes. As your boss, I'm telling you that if you say anything like that to our new Ward, I'm going to have to write you up. And we all know how Piggot takes that sort of thing. Let alone how Armsmaster would respond to hearing that his daughter was being bullied here within two days of being signed up."
"Yeah, yeah. Zip it, I got it. Whatever you say, boss." Favoritism on the left, favoritism on the right; everyone got to play favorites. Everyone but him. No one cared that his dad was still stuck in the ICU when —
"Oh." Taylor's soft declaration and straightened back drew everyone's attention.
Chris' grin widened to disgusting levels as he leaned over and looked at her stupid device. "Oh what?"
"I can fix Dean's armor…" she murmured.
"That makes sense. Most tinkers can at least do basic maintenance on other tinker stuff to some degree."
"No. I can fix his armor. It moves."
Dennis had started to fire off his typical snarky reply about Dean getting more girls, but the comment died in his throat, a mere gasp escaping from his lips. The quiet in the room was oppressive as the implications of what their newest teammate was saying sank in.
"That," Chris started, stopped to wet his lips, and restarted, "that doesn't sound like a fix, Taylor."
"I think… I think I can 'fix' the building too. It has windows. And doors. And cars move too fast, I could fix them too. Oh. Oh that's… I need to talk to Colin."
She grabbed her domino mask and flew out the door before the rest of them could even move.
Dennis stared at the door out of the room as it slammed shut again, his mouth suddenly dry. "Did the new girl just say that she could lock everyone down by considering it 'fixing' us? What sort of bullshit tinker specialization is that?"
Carlos was already pulling out his phone and stabbing the buttons. "Always said that tinker powers were broken. Good thing you haven't pissed her off yet, huh?" He held the phone to his ear and started talking again, "Sir, Repair is coming to your lab. She'll likely be there very shortly. Uh, I assume so. She kind of ran out before any of us could offer to show her the way. Yes, Sir. I understand, Sir. I'll make sure that Kid Win puts her tools where she can find them."
As he hung up, Carlos got up and started walking towards Chris. Their abandoned friend was already reaching for the scattered debris, while yelling to Carlos, "I heard, man. I got it."
Dennis shook his head, groaning. "Great, now there's three of them. Just fucking perfect."
Carlos glanced over his shoulder, shaking his head. "I heard that!"
Dennis fell forward onto the countertop, grumbling. "Of course you did."
AN: So the general idea of Taylor's power is that it's somewhat similarly 'restricted' as Kenzie's. Now, I've never read Ward, I have no intention of reading Ward, and whenever explained, most people just say that Kenzie's powers essentially equate to 'if it has a camera somewhere on it so that she can pretend it counts as "this thing is a camera!" then she can make it into a tinker tool'. Considering QA loves Taylor and Taylor tends to do Taylor munchinky things no matter what you give her, this seems like a fair interpretation of what QA would give her. Her main limit is No People.
Generally speaking, this is not going to matter much at all and is largely flavor. This series of is not intended to be a huge MC Fixes Everything, it's just going to be a fluffy view at Taylor and Colin at various points with some outside perspectives every now and then to give context. We all need more fluff in the world right now.
There are Scarier Things In the Deep (Worm/Lovecraft)
- Location
- Florida
- Pronouns
- He/Him
There are Scarier Things In the Deep
This wasn't the city that he had intended to settle in, but it was where he had wound up. It wasn't really all that bad, it had a reputation, but the people were good people by and large. He had a good job and a good goal. He could revitalize an entire city if he could just fix the sea lane.
Funny how it all always seemed to come back to the ocean. He'd been born on a boat and somehow he'd always found himself near the water no matter what he did.
So Brockton Bay it would be.
"You know, I work at the Docks," Daniel Hebert said, his smile as bright as the moonlight.
He had only met the woman an hour ago, but she was kind. She was a literature professor, and she adored the ocean. If his intuition was right, she loved it more than he did!
"Oh? A dockworker? Well now, isn't that just something?" Annette laid a hand on his arm, smiling just as wide. "I adore a man of the people as much as I adore a man of the ocean. Buy me a drink?"
As Danny flagged down the bartender, Annette's other hand fell onto her stomach, gently caressing it.
He had this. He worked by the sea.
~~~~\o/~~~~~~~<))))><~~~~~
"Taylor! There you are sweetheart. What are you doing all the way over here?"
Taylor kept staring at the water, the cool waves lapping at her feet as she sat, still as a mouse. Danny knelt on the sand beside her, shaking his head as he cast his gaze in the same direction she was looking. "It's a very nice sunset, kiddo, but you can't run away from me like that."
"I wanted to see the ocean," Taylor murmured, shrugging.
"You and this beach. I swear, you only come to work with me to see the ocean instead of watching your old man work."
She shrugged, then held up a hand, showing off a crab that was sitting on her palm.
"Sweetheart, you shouldn't play with those guys. They can hurt you."
"They won't hurt me," Taylor said. The surety of a child almost had him convinced, but he held the line.
"They're wild animals, Taylor. Now put the nice crab down before it snips at your fingers. I still don't know how you managed to avoid getting stung by that jellyfish last week, but one of these days these critters are going to hurt you and then you're going to understand why I've been trying to protect you."
"Mom's been teaching me to Sing. That'll protect me. I know it will."
Danny chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Kiddo, trust me, you're not the Pied Piper. Singing isn't going to soothe the shark."
Taylor stayed quiet, only wiggling her toes deeper into the sand. She did at least lower her palm so that the crab could climb off it.
"Come on, little owl, we have to get back home or your mom is going to start getting worried."
"Mom won't care. She always says I need to know how to talk to the water or it'll be dangerous."
At least Taylor didn't protest as Danny picked her up and started to walk away.
"I'm pretty sure that Mom meant you need to know how to swim." Taylor didn't comment, just rested her chin on his shoulder.
Somehow, he knew that she was still looking at the sea.
~~~~\o/~~~~~~<))))><~~~~~~
Emma leaped back from the beached shark with a squeal. "Taylor! Get away from it! It'll bite you!"
Taylor laid a hand on the side of the poor thing, her forehead resting on the cool skin. "It's dead, Emma."
"Oh. Oh um, well, you still shouldn't touch it! Fish are gross!"
Taylor picked her head up and looked at her friend, eyes wide. "Fish aren't gross."
"They so totally are."
"When I finish growing I'm going to be a mermaid, that's part fish. Am I gross?"
"Taylor, that's not what I," Emma huffed and stomped her foot, sand flying into the air as she glared. "You know that's not what I meant. And you can't be a mermaid, they have fins. You have feet. Besides, there are bad things in the ocean! There are monsters down there."
Taylor turned, staring over the dead shark and focusing on the sea. "There are bad things up here."
"I saw a documentary with Anne. There are these big things with teeth, and tentacles, and they eat people! There are monsters in the ocean, Taylor. Monsters!"
"Those are just fish, Emma," Taylor sighed. "Fish aren't monsters. Monsters are in the ocean and on land. Come on, we should tell my mom about the shark."
Taylor led the way back towards their parents, her gaze still lingering on the water.
~~~~\o/~~~~~<))))><~~~~~~~
Winslow never used to have a pool or swimming classes. The facilities were too new, too shiny. None of them fit with the disrepair and neglect of the rest of the school. Taylor didn't remember when that had changed. It might have been the same year she started going to Winslow. That sounded right.
Sophia's hand still held her under the surface. Her glasses were in the locker, safe, not that she needed them in the pool anyway. She could see all of the girls on the side of the pool just fine. She could see Julia flirting with the coach near the bleachers too, completely oblivious.
Not that it mattered.
Taylor saw the clock's hands tick over to minute three. That was probably long enough. Sophia was obviously waiting for her to react.
So, she thrashed, shaking her head and scrabbling for Sophia's hand.
Finally, they let her up.
"Why are you coughing, Taylor? Didn't you want to be a mermaid? Mermaids need to know how to breathe water! We're just helping you achieve your dream!"
Emma laughed, her posse following her cue. Sophia sneered, snapping off her own insult. The group stalked away as Julia finished her distraction.
Taylor glared at their backs, slowly levering herself out of the water. Her hair dripped, her vision back to normal.
It was good that Emma had shown her true colors before Taylor'd had her accident at the Docks. It was good that they kept trying to use the old tricks to frighten her. Sophia's behavior was a problem, but as long as they kept everything major to the pool, Taylor knew she was as safe as could be.
Water could never hurt her.
They had no idea that it was impossible for Taylor to drown.
~~~~\o/~~~~<))))><~~~~~~~~
"This is the fifth murder that has followed the same pattern." Dauntless clicked the remote and the next slide came up on the screen. "Director, we can't keep ignoring these."
The image on the screen was stomach-turning. The body was bloated, the skin loose from being submerged for so long. Armsmaster forced himself to memorize the image. He knew the signs. He was the leader of the Protectorate in this city, he was trained to find these.
He was trained to contain them.
"Dauntless, do you have anything new to add," Director Piggot asked, her voice bringing the temperature of the room down all on its own.
Dauntless scowled. "Madam, with all due respect, this clearly involves a parahuman and —"
"As I have stated numerous times, this is a BBPD matter," she stated, cutting him off. "Armsmaster, has there been any progress with Operation Drought?"
He shifted, narrowly avoiding grinding his teeth. "Progress has been made on tracking several cells, though the source remains elusive. I'm widening my search parameters."
"I don't need to remind you the priority level of this do I?"
"I am well aware, Director."
She nodded. "Good. Meeting adjourned."
"Meeting adj-Madam!" Dauntless moved to follow Piggot as she left the room only to be stopped by Armsmaster's gauntlet catching his arm.
"Dauntless, walk with me."
The man sneered, throwing off Armsmaster's hand and stalking forward to the elevator.
Armsmaster cast a final glance at the image on the projector, his breath coming in hitched for but a moment.
They were already moving too slow. The sea was encroaching.
~~~~\o/~~~<))))><~~~~~~~~~
Taylor stared at the water. It was Singing to her. It always Sang to her. She'd heard the Singing from people she passed on the street lately too. That was the scary thing. People weren't supposed to Sing like the ocean, they weren't supposed to know those Songs.
This was what her mother had warned her about since she had been born.
The aberrants, they stayed away from the water. She'd tried talking with a few. She'd wanted — needed — to know how they could stay away. If they Sang like that… it shouldn't be possible. They'd answered her questions, in a fashion. They were all seduced, yet terrified. They were drawn, yet they ran. They were called, yet they refused. She'd stopped talking to them when she saw all of the Singers had bruised stripes along both sides of their neck. And their fingers were webbed. And their eyes had a second membrane that blinked from the side.
Taylor stared at the sea, and she touched her neck. She didn't have bruises. She'd checked and rechecked. Her fingers were normal. She only had one set of eyelids.
Yet the sea Sang to her. Taylor stood up.
"Mom always said I needed to know how to talk to the water. The others, they don't talk to you do they?"
She stepped forward, one foot touched the water. Her heartbeat calmed.
She was different. The others, they weren't Singers, they were relays. They were meant to stretch the Call. They were meant to summon, not to understand.
Taylor was the only one who heard the siren.
Taylor was the only one who Sang back.
~~~~\o/~~<))))><~~~~~~~~~~
"Armsmaster, I swear to god, if you brought me down here just to brush me off —"
Colin clamped a gauntleted hand on Dauntless' shoulder, forcing him to sit down in the chair. "Read the reports, Shawn."
"Colin, what the fuck? We have ritualistic murders and biotinker creations running about! You and Piggot are just —"
Colin scowled, jabbing a finger at the screen. "Shawn. Read. The. Report!" Without waiting for another response, he threw himself into his own chair and set to work on improving his halberd's taser.
It took ten minutes for his coworker to finish reviewing the files. Colin knew he was done because of the retching. The last pages were the worst.
"…This is…"
"The outbreak will be contained. It has always been contained in the past and we have procedures."
"How long have we known about this, Colin? How long?" Shawn's vomiting had ceased, but his voice was shaking.
"The best preventative measures were deduced in the mid-800s —"
"The Dark Ages?!" Shawn yelped.
Colin rubbed his temples. Everyone was always so surprised. Did they think these things had just appeared along with steam engines? Of course they were going to be old. "Yes. Containment protocols have been improved since then. Various methods have been tried for total eradication. Only in the past three decades has there been any significant progress. The source is simply too deep."
Shawn's chair squeaked as he dropped into it. Colin didn't have to look up from his work to know that he was holding his head in his hands. Initial reactions were almost always the same. "Leviathan?"
"Actually helped matters somewhat. Much fewer outbreaks since it arrived on the scene." Colin laughed; there was no mirth in it. "Ironic isn't it?"
"We've been covering this up since the Dark Ages?"
"Longer actually. One of the oldest writings that we've been able to translate has been a warning about Its nature."
"I… I don't… Why?"
Colin set his tools down and swiveled. His eyes narrowed and he stared until Shawn flinched, dropping his own gaze. "Humanity has held the line for millennia. Until we can stop it, we will continue to hold the line."
Shawn shook his head. "If even half of those accounts are true…"
"It has been slowed, it has been delayed. We are Capes, Shawn. We will find a way. We just need to keep holding the line."
"Not everyone knows though."
"We would terrorize everyone for no reason. Either we win — like we always do — and everyone's lives continue as they always have; or we lose and everyone just dies. We just need to hold the line for now, Shawn. Emily is not nice, she is not a good person, but she knows how to manage threats. Help Emily, help me. We are trying to keep a relatively small outbreak contained before it becomes larger. Before extreme measures are forced upon us."
Shawn took a long moment to consider. Finally, he wiped a hand down his face and looked up, his eyes narrowed. "What do we know?"
A bark of laughter forced itself out of Colin's throat. He pointed back to the computer screen. "You already finished it all."
Hard data was woefully incomplete. Most never survived encounters long enough to record truly useful information. Those that did were rarely in a state to share their account.
More was known about the dark side of the Moon than was known about the Sea.
~~~~\o/~<))))><~~~~~~~~~~~
The sea was so calm. It softened the turmoil raging inside her. Taylor knew that they'd part eventually. She'd always known that. Even before her Mom had explained it was inevitable, part of her had known.
Danny had loved her. Even once he started to realize that she was different, he'd still loved her. He'd still tried to protect her, to be there for her in his own way. He hadn't understood, he would never have been able to understand. But he'd tried.
"Thanks, Mom," Taylor whispered. "He was a great Dad. I'm going to miss him."
It was ironic really. He'd worked his whole life trying to fix the ferry, and the ferry had killed him.
Yet… maybe it was a kindness all the same. Daniel Hebert had been born on the water, worked by the ocean, and died in the Sea. Called to the ocean, much like she was.
He was gone, but, perhaps, perhaps she'd see him again. One day.
One day soon.
It wouldn't be long now.
The Call was so much louder.
~~~~\o/>))))><~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Kaiser, deceased. Victor, deceased. Battery, down. Grue, down…"
Armsmaster grimaced at the parade of names from the armband. Leviathan was certainly living up to its reputation. Ten minutes in and they had already lost so many. He didn't even want to think about the aftermath should the city survive. Had it attacked here because it was already contaminated? Did it know that they wouldn't be able to focus on rebuilding until weeks after it left? They'd have to root out the entire cult before they could risk trying to sort out the city itself.
God damn this fucking monster.
"All capes, pull back!" his armband screamed. Armsmaster jerked, nearly stumbling over a piece of rubble as he ran, trying to catch up to the monster. "This is Alexandria, I repeat, all capes, pull back! Pull back now!"
"This city isn't lost yet!" Armsmaster growled. He was one street over. They had pushed Leviathan back to the Docks. They could still win this! What was she thinking?!
"Get out! All combatants, get the fuck out! All teleporters, evac everyone you can find! GET OUT!"
Armsmaster charged around the corner, halberd held high.
He skidded to a stop, his jaw dropping, his weapon slipping from his loose grip.
Dauntless dropped to the ground beside him. The man only stayed standing because his arclance happened to embed into the asphalt at his feet giving him something to lean his weight on. "Was this in any of the contingencies?" His voice shook along with his knees.
Armsmaster could only shake his head as he continued to stare.
In front of them, Leviathan was held aloft, flailing uselessly in the air. It was clutched in one hand by… something.
Armsmaster had difficulty even truly seeing it, the longer he looked, the more the image seemed to slip from him, the more his body rebelled. Every instinct was screaming at him to turn, to run, to hide, to curl into a ball and shut his eyes. If he stayed small enough, it would ignore him. If he ran fast enough, it would step over him. It towered over the buildings, it would easily pass him if he could - just — move
He tasted copper as he bit his tongue. He'd seen the reports. He'd seen the drawings. He knew what it was. It haunted his nightmares. He was… prepared. He was prepared. The world was vast, there were things far above them. He knew that, he knew that.
Waving shadows drew his gaze to the bottom of the creature's face, but all he could see was the continued impression of movement. It was as if the shadows themselves were attached to its face, covering it in tendrils of oily, incorporeal darkness. Colin lost his grip on his halberd, taking a half-step back.
There was no way to prepare for this.
The light around him changed, and he risked a glance higher up. Something was blotting out the sun. Not Leviathan's storm. The Endbringer had long fallen silent. There was something in the air, behind the creature. Armsmaster violently shuddered as the sky beat down towards him, a great wave of wind nearly pressing him flat against the ground.
"I thought you said we'd beaten that thing before," Dauntless whispered. He'd fallen to his knees, his head staring at the ground. "We can't-we can't fight it-Colin, I can't even look at it without needing to run for a dark place!" Somehow, Armsmaster could still hear him.
The battlefield had gone entirely silent. Only the weak sound of the scrabbling claws carried across the street. Leviathan wasn't dead after all. It was just a matter of time going by the softening noise.
"How the fuck did we ever b-beat that thing?"
"Because he let you." Both capes jumped, turning to face a young girl who had walked up right next to them. Unlike them, her gaze was locked upwards, a beatific smile across her features.
"Id-identify yourself," Armsmaster managed to bark. It was not appropriate. It was not the time. But it was something he could focus on. Something he could do. Something to allow him to ignore the thing to his side that had just shifted in her direction.
The girl allowed herself a brief glance at him. Then she turned back to the center of the street and shrugged. "I'm Taylor Hebert. But I don't think my name is what's important."
"Miss, if you are," Dauntless' voice failed and a tremor shook his body. He pushed up, getting one knee foot firmly on the ground as he twisted, putting his back towards the ocean and facing the girl fully before he was able to continue. "If you're a new cape, you need to leave. We're evacuating and…" Dauntless trailed off, stumbling away from the girl, seemingly without even realizing he was moving backwards instead of forwards. Armsmaster reached out, pulling him back, keeping him from going any closer to... to It.
"I'm not a cape, Mr. Dauntless. I used to wish I was, it might have been easier."
"You're contaminated," Armsmaster gasped. "We can — we can help you. Just, stay here. After the battle is over we can…" He couldn't even finish his thought. Those contaminated were rarely able to be saved, never if they lived this close to the water. And It was here.
It never came on land!
"It's okay. I'm different. My mom taught me how to Sing. He's been looking for someone who could hear him for so, so long. The other Singers, they rejected him. The world, it wasn't ready. It probably still isn't, but we don't really have much of a choice anymore." She smiled sadly at them, holding up a hand towards the sky. "I can show him where the real monsters are. I can show him what needs to be torn down. I can show him how to rebuild everything without destroying it all first. He doesn't have to flood the world, I can show him that. I finally understand why Mom said I needed to listen, why I needed to know how to Sing."
The girl opened her mouth and the softest melody that Armsmaster had ever heard came from her. His equipment registered no sound, yet he felt it in his bones, like fingernails on a chalkboard. Part of him needed to vomit, part of him wanted to fall down and weep in joy.
All of him was too terrified to move as the noise that was no noise resonated through him, passing him, and continuing on towards It.
She had heard Its call, and she was answering.
The creature from the depths shifted, the shadows over them moving. Its attention passed over Armsmaster for a moment, only a moment, yet that was enough for him to cry out and fall to the ground. The weight of ages…
He dared not look up the street, but he could look at the waif in front of him. Taylor stood straight, eyes closed, face held up, taking the full brunt of Its notice without visible struggle. "Mom died before she could explain. But it's okay. I figured it out. He needs someone to interpret. It's not about morality, it never was. He needs to know what to listen to, what to ignore. He'd wipe it all out on his own. We're all so small. But I can hear you, I can hear Him, and He can hear me."
She Sang again. Behind them, there was a colossal screech, followed by two distinct slaps. Armsmaster didn't have to look to understand. The being had closed Its fist, and Leviathan was no more.
Its other hand reached down, settling gently on the street, palm up. Armsmaster focused on his breathing. It was so close, it was right there. It was right. There.
Taylor climbed onto the palm.
"W-wait!" Dauntless shouted. "We can… we can help you!"
She looked back at the two of them, still smiling. "It's okay. I don't need help. I'll teach my Father restraint. We'll fix things. Just watch, we'll find the others and we'll stop them too. Goodbye."
The clawed hand lifted, the shadows changed, the ground shook, a Song was Sung, and the Great Old One… was gone.
Armsmaster wasn't aware how long he stayed huddled on the street next to Dauntless. Long enough for the ground to stop shaking, long enough for their armbands to stop squawking at them. Eventually, both were able to breathe easily enough that they were no longer hyperventilating.
"Armsmaster, wh-what do we do now?" Dauntless asked, his voice wavering, arms wrapped around his arclance as he held the weapon to his chestplate.
Armsmaster clenched his halberd, his knuckles aching inside his glove. "We find Behemoth, and then we find a way to tell her where it's hiding."
Behind them, the bisected corpse of Leviathan cooled, the waters receded.
Cthulhu and his daughter had long vanished into the waves.
AN: So having recently reread She Summons Sea Things by the Sea Shore, coupled with having rewatched Underwater, I felt the need to do something a bit more cosmic horror. This isn't a genre I usually write in and while Worm sorta fits somewhere between cosmic horror and cosmic horror lite, I usually keep my fanfics' eldritch enemies eminently defeatable. So it was fun to write something a bit different this time!
Many thanks to my betas as this did not have nearly so much of a cosmic horror vibe before they went through it and helped me make things more unnerving and difficult to comprehend from the human pov side.
This isn't going to have any sequels or extensions or anything, this is fully intended to be a oneshot, just needed to get this out of my system. If you enjoy things like this though, definitely go read She Summons! It's a FANTASTIC little oneshot where Taylor herself might as well be the cosmic horror entity of the setting! Another great lovecraftian fic would be The Monsters In Her Mind which I also highly recommend.
This wasn't the city that he had intended to settle in, but it was where he had wound up. It wasn't really all that bad, it had a reputation, but the people were good people by and large. He had a good job and a good goal. He could revitalize an entire city if he could just fix the sea lane.
Funny how it all always seemed to come back to the ocean. He'd been born on a boat and somehow he'd always found himself near the water no matter what he did.
So Brockton Bay it would be.
"You know, I work at the Docks," Daniel Hebert said, his smile as bright as the moonlight.
He had only met the woman an hour ago, but she was kind. She was a literature professor, and she adored the ocean. If his intuition was right, she loved it more than he did!
"Oh? A dockworker? Well now, isn't that just something?" Annette laid a hand on his arm, smiling just as wide. "I adore a man of the people as much as I adore a man of the ocean. Buy me a drink?"
As Danny flagged down the bartender, Annette's other hand fell onto her stomach, gently caressing it.
He had this. He worked by the sea.
~~~~\o/~~~~~~~<))))><~~~~~
"Taylor! There you are sweetheart. What are you doing all the way over here?"
Taylor kept staring at the water, the cool waves lapping at her feet as she sat, still as a mouse. Danny knelt on the sand beside her, shaking his head as he cast his gaze in the same direction she was looking. "It's a very nice sunset, kiddo, but you can't run away from me like that."
"I wanted to see the ocean," Taylor murmured, shrugging.
"You and this beach. I swear, you only come to work with me to see the ocean instead of watching your old man work."
She shrugged, then held up a hand, showing off a crab that was sitting on her palm.
"Sweetheart, you shouldn't play with those guys. They can hurt you."
"They won't hurt me," Taylor said. The surety of a child almost had him convinced, but he held the line.
"They're wild animals, Taylor. Now put the nice crab down before it snips at your fingers. I still don't know how you managed to avoid getting stung by that jellyfish last week, but one of these days these critters are going to hurt you and then you're going to understand why I've been trying to protect you."
"Mom's been teaching me to Sing. That'll protect me. I know it will."
Danny chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Kiddo, trust me, you're not the Pied Piper. Singing isn't going to soothe the shark."
Taylor stayed quiet, only wiggling her toes deeper into the sand. She did at least lower her palm so that the crab could climb off it.
"Come on, little owl, we have to get back home or your mom is going to start getting worried."
"Mom won't care. She always says I need to know how to talk to the water or it'll be dangerous."
At least Taylor didn't protest as Danny picked her up and started to walk away.
"I'm pretty sure that Mom meant you need to know how to swim." Taylor didn't comment, just rested her chin on his shoulder.
Somehow, he knew that she was still looking at the sea.
~~~~\o/~~~~~~<))))><~~~~~~
Emma leaped back from the beached shark with a squeal. "Taylor! Get away from it! It'll bite you!"
Taylor laid a hand on the side of the poor thing, her forehead resting on the cool skin. "It's dead, Emma."
"Oh. Oh um, well, you still shouldn't touch it! Fish are gross!"
Taylor picked her head up and looked at her friend, eyes wide. "Fish aren't gross."
"They so totally are."
"When I finish growing I'm going to be a mermaid, that's part fish. Am I gross?"
"Taylor, that's not what I," Emma huffed and stomped her foot, sand flying into the air as she glared. "You know that's not what I meant. And you can't be a mermaid, they have fins. You have feet. Besides, there are bad things in the ocean! There are monsters down there."
Taylor turned, staring over the dead shark and focusing on the sea. "There are bad things up here."
"I saw a documentary with Anne. There are these big things with teeth, and tentacles, and they eat people! There are monsters in the ocean, Taylor. Monsters!"
"Those are just fish, Emma," Taylor sighed. "Fish aren't monsters. Monsters are in the ocean and on land. Come on, we should tell my mom about the shark."
Taylor led the way back towards their parents, her gaze still lingering on the water.
~~~~\o/~~~~~<))))><~~~~~~~
Winslow never used to have a pool or swimming classes. The facilities were too new, too shiny. None of them fit with the disrepair and neglect of the rest of the school. Taylor didn't remember when that had changed. It might have been the same year she started going to Winslow. That sounded right.
Sophia's hand still held her under the surface. Her glasses were in the locker, safe, not that she needed them in the pool anyway. She could see all of the girls on the side of the pool just fine. She could see Julia flirting with the coach near the bleachers too, completely oblivious.
Not that it mattered.
Taylor saw the clock's hands tick over to minute three. That was probably long enough. Sophia was obviously waiting for her to react.
So, she thrashed, shaking her head and scrabbling for Sophia's hand.
Finally, they let her up.
"Why are you coughing, Taylor? Didn't you want to be a mermaid? Mermaids need to know how to breathe water! We're just helping you achieve your dream!"
Emma laughed, her posse following her cue. Sophia sneered, snapping off her own insult. The group stalked away as Julia finished her distraction.
Taylor glared at their backs, slowly levering herself out of the water. Her hair dripped, her vision back to normal.
It was good that Emma had shown her true colors before Taylor'd had her accident at the Docks. It was good that they kept trying to use the old tricks to frighten her. Sophia's behavior was a problem, but as long as they kept everything major to the pool, Taylor knew she was as safe as could be.
Water could never hurt her.
They had no idea that it was impossible for Taylor to drown.
~~~~\o/~~~~<))))><~~~~~~~~
"This is the fifth murder that has followed the same pattern." Dauntless clicked the remote and the next slide came up on the screen. "Director, we can't keep ignoring these."
The image on the screen was stomach-turning. The body was bloated, the skin loose from being submerged for so long. Armsmaster forced himself to memorize the image. He knew the signs. He was the leader of the Protectorate in this city, he was trained to find these.
He was trained to contain them.
"Dauntless, do you have anything new to add," Director Piggot asked, her voice bringing the temperature of the room down all on its own.
Dauntless scowled. "Madam, with all due respect, this clearly involves a parahuman and —"
"As I have stated numerous times, this is a BBPD matter," she stated, cutting him off. "Armsmaster, has there been any progress with Operation Drought?"
He shifted, narrowly avoiding grinding his teeth. "Progress has been made on tracking several cells, though the source remains elusive. I'm widening my search parameters."
"I don't need to remind you the priority level of this do I?"
"I am well aware, Director."
She nodded. "Good. Meeting adjourned."
"Meeting adj-Madam!" Dauntless moved to follow Piggot as she left the room only to be stopped by Armsmaster's gauntlet catching his arm.
"Dauntless, walk with me."
The man sneered, throwing off Armsmaster's hand and stalking forward to the elevator.
Armsmaster cast a final glance at the image on the projector, his breath coming in hitched for but a moment.
They were already moving too slow. The sea was encroaching.
~~~~\o/~~~<))))><~~~~~~~~~
Taylor stared at the water. It was Singing to her. It always Sang to her. She'd heard the Singing from people she passed on the street lately too. That was the scary thing. People weren't supposed to Sing like the ocean, they weren't supposed to know those Songs.
This was what her mother had warned her about since she had been born.
The aberrants, they stayed away from the water. She'd tried talking with a few. She'd wanted — needed — to know how they could stay away. If they Sang like that… it shouldn't be possible. They'd answered her questions, in a fashion. They were all seduced, yet terrified. They were drawn, yet they ran. They were called, yet they refused. She'd stopped talking to them when she saw all of the Singers had bruised stripes along both sides of their neck. And their fingers were webbed. And their eyes had a second membrane that blinked from the side.
Taylor stared at the sea, and she touched her neck. She didn't have bruises. She'd checked and rechecked. Her fingers were normal. She only had one set of eyelids.
Yet the sea Sang to her. Taylor stood up.
"Mom always said I needed to know how to talk to the water. The others, they don't talk to you do they?"
She stepped forward, one foot touched the water. Her heartbeat calmed.
She was different. The others, they weren't Singers, they were relays. They were meant to stretch the Call. They were meant to summon, not to understand.
Taylor was the only one who heard the siren.
Taylor was the only one who Sang back.
~~~~\o/~~<))))><~~~~~~~~~~
"Armsmaster, I swear to god, if you brought me down here just to brush me off —"
Colin clamped a gauntleted hand on Dauntless' shoulder, forcing him to sit down in the chair. "Read the reports, Shawn."
"Colin, what the fuck? We have ritualistic murders and biotinker creations running about! You and Piggot are just —"
Colin scowled, jabbing a finger at the screen. "Shawn. Read. The. Report!" Without waiting for another response, he threw himself into his own chair and set to work on improving his halberd's taser.
It took ten minutes for his coworker to finish reviewing the files. Colin knew he was done because of the retching. The last pages were the worst.
"…This is…"
"The outbreak will be contained. It has always been contained in the past and we have procedures."
"How long have we known about this, Colin? How long?" Shawn's vomiting had ceased, but his voice was shaking.
"The best preventative measures were deduced in the mid-800s —"
"The Dark Ages?!" Shawn yelped.
Colin rubbed his temples. Everyone was always so surprised. Did they think these things had just appeared along with steam engines? Of course they were going to be old. "Yes. Containment protocols have been improved since then. Various methods have been tried for total eradication. Only in the past three decades has there been any significant progress. The source is simply too deep."
Shawn's chair squeaked as he dropped into it. Colin didn't have to look up from his work to know that he was holding his head in his hands. Initial reactions were almost always the same. "Leviathan?"
"Actually helped matters somewhat. Much fewer outbreaks since it arrived on the scene." Colin laughed; there was no mirth in it. "Ironic isn't it?"
"We've been covering this up since the Dark Ages?"
"Longer actually. One of the oldest writings that we've been able to translate has been a warning about Its nature."
"I… I don't… Why?"
Colin set his tools down and swiveled. His eyes narrowed and he stared until Shawn flinched, dropping his own gaze. "Humanity has held the line for millennia. Until we can stop it, we will continue to hold the line."
Shawn shook his head. "If even half of those accounts are true…"
"It has been slowed, it has been delayed. We are Capes, Shawn. We will find a way. We just need to keep holding the line."
"Not everyone knows though."
"We would terrorize everyone for no reason. Either we win — like we always do — and everyone's lives continue as they always have; or we lose and everyone just dies. We just need to hold the line for now, Shawn. Emily is not nice, she is not a good person, but she knows how to manage threats. Help Emily, help me. We are trying to keep a relatively small outbreak contained before it becomes larger. Before extreme measures are forced upon us."
Shawn took a long moment to consider. Finally, he wiped a hand down his face and looked up, his eyes narrowed. "What do we know?"
A bark of laughter forced itself out of Colin's throat. He pointed back to the computer screen. "You already finished it all."
Hard data was woefully incomplete. Most never survived encounters long enough to record truly useful information. Those that did were rarely in a state to share their account.
More was known about the dark side of the Moon than was known about the Sea.
~~~~\o/~<))))><~~~~~~~~~~~
The sea was so calm. It softened the turmoil raging inside her. Taylor knew that they'd part eventually. She'd always known that. Even before her Mom had explained it was inevitable, part of her had known.
Danny had loved her. Even once he started to realize that she was different, he'd still loved her. He'd still tried to protect her, to be there for her in his own way. He hadn't understood, he would never have been able to understand. But he'd tried.
"Thanks, Mom," Taylor whispered. "He was a great Dad. I'm going to miss him."
It was ironic really. He'd worked his whole life trying to fix the ferry, and the ferry had killed him.
Yet… maybe it was a kindness all the same. Daniel Hebert had been born on the water, worked by the ocean, and died in the Sea. Called to the ocean, much like she was.
He was gone, but, perhaps, perhaps she'd see him again. One day.
One day soon.
It wouldn't be long now.
The Call was so much louder.
~~~~\o/>))))><~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Kaiser, deceased. Victor, deceased. Battery, down. Grue, down…"
Armsmaster grimaced at the parade of names from the armband. Leviathan was certainly living up to its reputation. Ten minutes in and they had already lost so many. He didn't even want to think about the aftermath should the city survive. Had it attacked here because it was already contaminated? Did it know that they wouldn't be able to focus on rebuilding until weeks after it left? They'd have to root out the entire cult before they could risk trying to sort out the city itself.
God damn this fucking monster.
"All capes, pull back!" his armband screamed. Armsmaster jerked, nearly stumbling over a piece of rubble as he ran, trying to catch up to the monster. "This is Alexandria, I repeat, all capes, pull back! Pull back now!"
"This city isn't lost yet!" Armsmaster growled. He was one street over. They had pushed Leviathan back to the Docks. They could still win this! What was she thinking?!
"Get out! All combatants, get the fuck out! All teleporters, evac everyone you can find! GET OUT!"
Armsmaster charged around the corner, halberd held high.
He skidded to a stop, his jaw dropping, his weapon slipping from his loose grip.
Dauntless dropped to the ground beside him. The man only stayed standing because his arclance happened to embed into the asphalt at his feet giving him something to lean his weight on. "Was this in any of the contingencies?" His voice shook along with his knees.
Armsmaster could only shake his head as he continued to stare.
In front of them, Leviathan was held aloft, flailing uselessly in the air. It was clutched in one hand by… something.
Armsmaster had difficulty even truly seeing it, the longer he looked, the more the image seemed to slip from him, the more his body rebelled. Every instinct was screaming at him to turn, to run, to hide, to curl into a ball and shut his eyes. If he stayed small enough, it would ignore him. If he ran fast enough, it would step over him. It towered over the buildings, it would easily pass him if he could - just — move
He tasted copper as he bit his tongue. He'd seen the reports. He'd seen the drawings. He knew what it was. It haunted his nightmares. He was… prepared. He was prepared. The world was vast, there were things far above them. He knew that, he knew that.
Waving shadows drew his gaze to the bottom of the creature's face, but all he could see was the continued impression of movement. It was as if the shadows themselves were attached to its face, covering it in tendrils of oily, incorporeal darkness. Colin lost his grip on his halberd, taking a half-step back.
There was no way to prepare for this.
The light around him changed, and he risked a glance higher up. Something was blotting out the sun. Not Leviathan's storm. The Endbringer had long fallen silent. There was something in the air, behind the creature. Armsmaster violently shuddered as the sky beat down towards him, a great wave of wind nearly pressing him flat against the ground.
"I thought you said we'd beaten that thing before," Dauntless whispered. He'd fallen to his knees, his head staring at the ground. "We can't-we can't fight it-Colin, I can't even look at it without needing to run for a dark place!" Somehow, Armsmaster could still hear him.
The battlefield had gone entirely silent. Only the weak sound of the scrabbling claws carried across the street. Leviathan wasn't dead after all. It was just a matter of time going by the softening noise.
"How the fuck did we ever b-beat that thing?"
"Because he let you." Both capes jumped, turning to face a young girl who had walked up right next to them. Unlike them, her gaze was locked upwards, a beatific smile across her features.
"Id-identify yourself," Armsmaster managed to bark. It was not appropriate. It was not the time. But it was something he could focus on. Something he could do. Something to allow him to ignore the thing to his side that had just shifted in her direction.
The girl allowed herself a brief glance at him. Then she turned back to the center of the street and shrugged. "I'm Taylor Hebert. But I don't think my name is what's important."
"Miss, if you are," Dauntless' voice failed and a tremor shook his body. He pushed up, getting one knee foot firmly on the ground as he twisted, putting his back towards the ocean and facing the girl fully before he was able to continue. "If you're a new cape, you need to leave. We're evacuating and…" Dauntless trailed off, stumbling away from the girl, seemingly without even realizing he was moving backwards instead of forwards. Armsmaster reached out, pulling him back, keeping him from going any closer to... to It.
"I'm not a cape, Mr. Dauntless. I used to wish I was, it might have been easier."
"You're contaminated," Armsmaster gasped. "We can — we can help you. Just, stay here. After the battle is over we can…" He couldn't even finish his thought. Those contaminated were rarely able to be saved, never if they lived this close to the water. And It was here.
It never came on land!
"It's okay. I'm different. My mom taught me how to Sing. He's been looking for someone who could hear him for so, so long. The other Singers, they rejected him. The world, it wasn't ready. It probably still isn't, but we don't really have much of a choice anymore." She smiled sadly at them, holding up a hand towards the sky. "I can show him where the real monsters are. I can show him what needs to be torn down. I can show him how to rebuild everything without destroying it all first. He doesn't have to flood the world, I can show him that. I finally understand why Mom said I needed to listen, why I needed to know how to Sing."
The girl opened her mouth and the softest melody that Armsmaster had ever heard came from her. His equipment registered no sound, yet he felt it in his bones, like fingernails on a chalkboard. Part of him needed to vomit, part of him wanted to fall down and weep in joy.
All of him was too terrified to move as the noise that was no noise resonated through him, passing him, and continuing on towards It.
She had heard Its call, and she was answering.
The creature from the depths shifted, the shadows over them moving. Its attention passed over Armsmaster for a moment, only a moment, yet that was enough for him to cry out and fall to the ground. The weight of ages…
He dared not look up the street, but he could look at the waif in front of him. Taylor stood straight, eyes closed, face held up, taking the full brunt of Its notice without visible struggle. "Mom died before she could explain. But it's okay. I figured it out. He needs someone to interpret. It's not about morality, it never was. He needs to know what to listen to, what to ignore. He'd wipe it all out on his own. We're all so small. But I can hear you, I can hear Him, and He can hear me."
She Sang again. Behind them, there was a colossal screech, followed by two distinct slaps. Armsmaster didn't have to look to understand. The being had closed Its fist, and Leviathan was no more.
Its other hand reached down, settling gently on the street, palm up. Armsmaster focused on his breathing. It was so close, it was right there. It was right. There.
Taylor climbed onto the palm.
"W-wait!" Dauntless shouted. "We can… we can help you!"
She looked back at the two of them, still smiling. "It's okay. I don't need help. I'll teach my Father restraint. We'll fix things. Just watch, we'll find the others and we'll stop them too. Goodbye."
The clawed hand lifted, the shadows changed, the ground shook, a Song was Sung, and the Great Old One… was gone.
Armsmaster wasn't aware how long he stayed huddled on the street next to Dauntless. Long enough for the ground to stop shaking, long enough for their armbands to stop squawking at them. Eventually, both were able to breathe easily enough that they were no longer hyperventilating.
"Armsmaster, wh-what do we do now?" Dauntless asked, his voice wavering, arms wrapped around his arclance as he held the weapon to his chestplate.
Armsmaster clenched his halberd, his knuckles aching inside his glove. "We find Behemoth, and then we find a way to tell her where it's hiding."
Behind them, the bisected corpse of Leviathan cooled, the waters receded.
Cthulhu and his daughter had long vanished into the waves.
AN: So having recently reread She Summons Sea Things by the Sea Shore, coupled with having rewatched Underwater, I felt the need to do something a bit more cosmic horror. This isn't a genre I usually write in and while Worm sorta fits somewhere between cosmic horror and cosmic horror lite, I usually keep my fanfics' eldritch enemies eminently defeatable. So it was fun to write something a bit different this time!
Many thanks to my betas as this did not have nearly so much of a cosmic horror vibe before they went through it and helped me make things more unnerving and difficult to comprehend from the human pov side.
This isn't going to have any sequels or extensions or anything, this is fully intended to be a oneshot, just needed to get this out of my system. If you enjoy things like this though, definitely go read She Summons! It's a FANTASTIC little oneshot where Taylor herself might as well be the cosmic horror entity of the setting! Another great lovecraftian fic would be The Monsters In Her Mind which I also highly recommend.
Actually I expect them to try to sic Taylor on Scion.
Eh, Worm always struk me as more Dark-Fantacy than Cosmic Horror or Grimdark. CH kinda relies on humans being totally irrelevant to the outcome and that being where the horror comes from, and Grimdark is all about being unfixable. Worm has its Cosmic entity explicitly interested in humans and said humans end up solving the situation, not well enough to return to any kind of normal but well enough to rebuild without the crushing weight of an apocalypse.
Obsession
- Location
- Florida
- Pronouns
- He/Him
AN: I am trying to work on my existing projects. I know, it's been awhile, I'm sorry...
However, in the spirit of October, I did manage to get a Halloween story knocked out! I'm rather sad that there's so little 'spooky' ASCII one-line art that I could use for the line breaks. So we unfortunately have to settle for the bat.
Summary: By pure chance, Lisa saw something she couldn't reconcile, something that rattled her, something she can't get out of her head. The more she digs into it, the more her power keeps repeating an impossible answer.
If Taylor Hebert is dead, then how could she possibly keep seeing the girl?
In a world of capes, there's just no room for the supernatural. Right? RIGHT?!
Obsession
Lisa's scowl deepened as she closed out yet another tab.
"This is stupid."
Another five minutes of skimming the articles. Another three tabs closed as fakes.
"I have so many better things to be doing with my time."
She moved the two remaining tabs into the Unexplained grouping. The group had far more open sites than she had expected. Enough that she had goosebumps. She was Lisa Wilbourn, she didn't get goosebumps. This was stupid.
"I could be looking for more dirt on Coil's merry band of cutthroats."
She cross-referenced police reports and local newspapers. Once she finished verifying with her power, four of the Unexplained sites were closed.
"Ten left. Ten, fucking, left. This is stupid. They don't exist."
And yet, there were ten sightings that were still unexplained. Ten sightings that kept pinging her power.
"No, fuck this. I'm done."
She snapped her laptop closed and got her running ensemble together. If she couldn't make the idiotic things disappear, then she would just tire herself out until she couldn't think about it anymore.
^0^ ^0^ ^0^ ^0^
"Lisa? You okay? You look like you've just seen —"
"If you finish that sentence I will shoot your dick off, Brian," she snapped. His teeth audibly clanged as they locked together. She leaned against the couch and tore her shoes off hard enough that they rattled the picture on the wall they'd struck.
"That's what I get for giving a shit," Brian muttered as he turned around and stalked back into the kitchen.
Lisa didn't bother to correct him. Instead, shoes off, she stomped into her room, the contents of her dresser dumped onto her bed as she searched for her towel and acceptable day wear.
"He's not wrong," Alec commented from the doorway. Lisa didn't acknowledge him, just muttering under her breath about asshole roommates. "You're pale as shit. And your nerves are going through a delightfully horrific dance."
Lisa finally lifted her head to glare at him. "Pervert."
"Hey I didn't even say 'I could help with that'!"
"You were thinking it."
"But I didn't say it. Progress." He paused, a flicker of a frown crossing his face. Maybe she had underestimated the guy. "Seriously, are you okay?"
"I don't run often. I'm just tired." The excuse was bullshit and they both knew it. There was no way he would care enough to call her out on —
"I know physical exhaustion and it's not. You don't want to talk, fine. But don't 'run' near the Docks again. Or do, but take Rachel next time."
Alec pushed off of the wall and had turned away to head back to the loft's common room. Lisa's hand was on his shoulder holding him back before she'd consciously decided to say anything. Alec glanced down at her hand, then up to meet her eyes, his brows arching.
"What do you know about the Docks?" her voice was quiet, barely a whisper.
He didn't respond for several seconds. When he did, he slowly shook his head. "I know the people in chat are pretty clear not to go anywhere near the place. Something spooked the locals a few weeks back."
"Gaming chat?"
"And the druggies. Mostly the addicts. The dealers are still there." Lisa studiously chose to ignore Alec's vices. He was good about keeping his issues out of their lives. Until that changed, she'd keep her opinions to herself. "Before you ask, yup, Merchants are pretty much disbanded."
"I knew that. After Skidmark," she winced, "there wasn't much that was going to hold them together."
Alec nodded once. "Take Rachel if you go through again, Lisa."
"Do you think it's a cape?"
"Not a damn clue, that's your department, Blondie."
She uncurled her fingers and he was back to his video game before she could form a coherent thread of thought. Finally, scowling again, she grabbed her towel and headed to the bathroom.
It had to be a cape. Her power was stupid, and it was wrong.
It was a cape.
^0^ ^0^ ^0^ ^0^
"I told you already, Boss, it's a personal project." If Lisa could reach through the phone and strangle Coil, she would have done so ten minutes ago. Granted, if she could have done that, a lot of her problems wouldn't have been problems to begin with. If she could have done that she would have been able to leave instead of digging up the rabbit hole.
"It has distracted you from your job, Pet."
She grit her teeth. For the first time she found herself hoping that her power was right and this thing was real. Then after she died like an idiot, at least her grudge would wipe out Coil too. That was how these things worked wasn't it?
"I've already sent you the information on the Empire. Besides, if I'm right, maybe we get a heavy-hitter. Like I've said we needed for months."
Coil was silent for long enough that Lisa knew she'd hit a nerve. She was going to pay for that later. Maybe if she was lucky she wouldn't know what he did to her. "If I recall correctly, Spitfire was perfect for that role until your team drove her away."
"Yeah, well, maybe you should put me in charge of these idiots. Grue is too nice to keep Bitch in line." Not true, he just had other priorities. Not that such an excuse would fly with Coil.
"I expect you to manage your team, Pet. Or you will be managing mine." The line clicked off and it was all Lisa could do to stop herself from throwing it against the wall.
"Rachel!" she shouted, stomping out into the kitchen.
Rachel's head lifted, her hands never stopping their brushing of Judas' fur. "What?"
"Do the dogs need a walk?"
Her eyes narrowed, she glanced up and down Lisa's body. "No. But you do. I'll get the leash."
Lisa heard herself growl as she stomped back into her room for a coat.
Even Rachel was saying she looked like shit now? Fuck them all. She was going to prove that this was a cape.
^0^ ^0^ ^0^ ^0^
They were deep in the Docks' warehouses when Judas stopped, whining and staring down an alley, his tail drooping, and his hackles raised. His side was pressed against Rachel, his gaze unwavering.
Lisa stepped in front of Rachel before the butch girl could say a word. Rachel would mess this up, she would order Judas to attack and that would be that. He'd wind up dead, Rachel would follow him, and Lisa would be the sole survivor only to be tormented for weeks (or just days) before she inevitably followed suit.
She shook her head, her lips pulling back into a snarl. She'd been reading too many crazy stories. This was supposed to be stupid.
The street lights flickered.
It wasn't real.
The mists shifted.
It was just some asshole cape getting her rocks off with terrifying people.
A scream sounded from the alley. Lisa couldn't breathe, couldn't move. The scream pierced her at a place she didn't know she had. Judas whined again, but didn't leave his mistress' side.
"Mugger," Rachel grunted. "We gonna help her?"
The mist shifted, and Lisa could breathe again. She could just make out the woman that Rachel had spotted, as well as the ABB ganger looming over her.
"Of course we're going to —" Lisa's retort died as the lights flickered again, and the mist clumped together, a mass forming right behind the mugger.
Forming was a poor word. One second there had been nothing, the next there was a smoky outline of a person.
"It's not real," Lisa whispered. Her eyes were wide, her teeth and fists clenched.
The mist-girl punched forward, her dagger of mist slipping between the man's jacket. He cried out, clutching his side. His other arm flailing about, the mist-girl didn't seem to notice even as it passed through her.
It punched forward again, the man wheezed out, and dropped. The lights flickered, the mist shifted, the apparition twisted its head to face Lisa.
Just like the first time, just like every other time, her power repeated one single thing:
Taylor Hebert is dead
An endless loop repeated in her head as she stared into the misty glasses just a few feet away. How did her power know that name? How?
The lights went out, and when they came back on the mist-girl — Taylor Hebert — had vanished.
^0^ ^0^ ^0^ ^0^
"You've been looking in the wrong places, Blondie," Alec stated. He plopped down on the couch, scattering Lisa's research. Her head jerked up but the curse died in her throat.
Instead, she snatched the yearbook he was holding out, eliciting a wince from the boy as she tore it from his grip. "High school, Winslow. This is last year's."
Brian leaned over the couch, eyebrows raised. "Uh, yeah. It's October, Lisa. I know you don't go to school, but you do know that school ends in June yeah?"
"Yeah, yeah, fuck you," Lisa said, though there was no heat to it.
Brian rolled his eyes and tapped at the page. "Taylor Hebert, right? You screamed her name the other night. Funny how you say more sleeping than you do awake. We checked for missing persons. This is her right?"
"I checked the Missing list!" Lisa snapped. "How the hell did — No. No, no, no! She is a cape!"
Rachel dropped into the seat next to her, scattering more papers in the process. "According to the report, she died a month ago. Glasses and hair look a lot like the —"
"She is a cape," Lisa growled, cutting Rachel off.
"Sure." Rachel reached up, her fingers combing through Lisa's hair, scratching her scalp. Lisa closed her eyes, breathing out slowly.
"Lise," Brian sighed, "I don't believe in this stuff either. I'm with you. But the reporter talked to her best friend. She seemed pretty convinced that this Taylor girl died. Now I'll grant you that something is going on at the Docks, but you really need to stop obsessing over this."
Lisa just stared at the yearbook page. Curly hair, glasses, wide mouth. It was an exact match. She didn't need her power blaring at her to confirm it.
"There was a news article?" Lisa asked.
"Wow you really are off your game if you didn't look for that first," Alec said. "Yeah, there's an article. From a month ago, Lisa."
"Oh." That must have been why she knew the apparition's name. She had to have read the story when it dropped and then her power recognized the… recognized her.
"I need to talk to the friend," her voice was weak.
"Why does this matter so much?" Brian asked. Rachel's fingers scraped harder. Lisa's eyes closed.
"They aren't real," she whispered. "I know they aren't real. But every time I see that… that girl, my power screams that they are real."
"Never would have pegged you of all people having a phobia," Brian murmured.
Alec shrugged. "Everyone's got something. I'll escort her."
"Yeah, no." Brian snorted. "I'll go. Aisha has a club thing tomorrow. I'm free."
"Yall never let me have any fun."
"Mocking is beneath you," Brian said.
"How dare you imply that I am ever above anything!" Alec shot back.
Lisa just leaned back into Rachel's fingers, ignoring the others' increasingly absurd argument. The yearbook image of Taylor Hebert blurring into mist behind her closed eyes.
^0^ ^0^ ^0^ ^0^
"Emma, so pleased to meet you!" Lisa made no attempt to hide her false cheer. If even half of the things her power was spouting off about the redhead was true, she would gag. "Thank you for agreeing to sit down with us."
The bitch glared. "I didn't exactly have much choice."
"True."
Emma immediately deflated, collapsing back into the coffee shop's booth, her face blanking, the dark circles under her eyes suddenly apparent. "What do you want? I already talked to the reporters. I already told my parents everything. I already know Uncle Danny hates me. Everyone hates me. They're right to."
Lisa's lips thinned as her power filled in more gaps. Beside her Brian frowned. He didn't say anything though. Good. This was her investigation — her obsession.
"You saw what happened to Taylor Hebert."
"I saw my best friend die. I'm why my best friend is dead," Emma hissed. "Don't fucking sugar-coat it. I'm not worth it."
"Tell me what happened."
"Fuck you!"
"There's no body, Emma," Lisa yelled. She ignored the few people in the restaurant that glanced her way. They weren't important. "She didn't die!"
Emma leaned across the table, her fingers interlocking, her hands turning white with how hard she was clenching them. "I watched Taylor die, you bitch."
"Then tell me what you saw!" Lisa's voice was low and dangerous.
Emma at least, didn't disappoint her. "I watched Sophia run into the building to save those dykes." Lisa's eye twitched and Brian's fingers spasmed. Neither interrupted her though. "I watched Sophia fall when the flames blew in the window. It was too hot. I couldn't go in. I —" her voice cracked and she extracted her fingers from their death grip, instead biting down on them until her shivering had passed. "I watched as one of my friends was burning to death. I just watched. And then I watched as Taylor, my Taylor — my Taylor who we just kept punching down, my Taylor who hated us — I watched her run in. I watched her throw Sophia and the bitches out the window. I watched her meet my eyes. I watched her fall.
"And I. Just. Watched!" Emma finished, her voice sounding like Lisa imagined a cat's wailing would screech.
"There was no body," Lisa stated, her words slow and deliberate. "There was. No. Body."
Emma shook her head, her arms wrapped around herself. "BBPD said it was a tinker fire. They said she was just… It was too hot. There wouldn't be anything left. Taylor's dead. We lured her out there and… My best friend is dead because I'm a monster and she was not."
Lisa barely even noticed as Brian gently pulled her away. She didn't register that they were at the car until he was pushing her into the seat. Lisa looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "She's a cape, Bri. She… she's a cape."
He leaned down, pushing his forehead against hers. "Don't get lost in your power, Lise. Garbage in, garbage out. That's what you said. Those are your words. Don't go down the rabbit hole."
"They aren't real. She's a cape." Lisa shivered, the street lights flickered.
"Or it's a projection from that broken redhead who thinks she killed her friend by not trying to help. There's a lot of answers, there's a lot of dead ends. Let the PRT deal with this."
Lisa nodded. Her eyes locked over Brian's shoulder. Locked on the mist-girl standing guard at the alleyway.
Brian smiled, squeezed her shoulder and walked around the car. As he started the engine and pulled away from the curb, Emma walked out of the restaurant. Lisa watched in the mirror, noting Taylor Hebert's gaze following the redhead as she stumbled down the street, wiping at her eyes.
The street lights flickered. Taylor Hebert was gone.
Brian kept driving, none the wiser.
AN: This did not end up being what it had started out as. Originally this was going to be Lisa getting garbage outputs from her power that said Taylor was dead, but the ghost in front of her was Taylor, and it would spur her to hunt down why her power was spouting a random name at her for an apparition that she saw while on a job, for an instant, that she wasn't even sure she had actually seen. It would have led her to find that Taylor had triggered and become a sort of C-53 smoke girl/monster though most people assumed she just died. It would have ended with Lisa realizing that Taylor originally looked ghosty because she hadn't quite worked out how to maintain her old humanoid form yet, but that she was getting better at it as time went on.
Instead as I wrote through this, it ended up being far more ambiguous than I had originally intended. Is Taylor dead and just a ghost? Is she a cape? Is she Emma's projection? Is she Danny's? Are there two different projections? I like this ambiguity better; I think it fits Halloween more.
However, in the spirit of October, I did manage to get a Halloween story knocked out! I'm rather sad that there's so little 'spooky' ASCII one-line art that I could use for the line breaks. So we unfortunately have to settle for the bat.
Summary: By pure chance, Lisa saw something she couldn't reconcile, something that rattled her, something she can't get out of her head. The more she digs into it, the more her power keeps repeating an impossible answer.
If Taylor Hebert is dead, then how could she possibly keep seeing the girl?
In a world of capes, there's just no room for the supernatural. Right? RIGHT?!
Obsession
Lisa's scowl deepened as she closed out yet another tab.
"This is stupid."
Another five minutes of skimming the articles. Another three tabs closed as fakes.
"I have so many better things to be doing with my time."
She moved the two remaining tabs into the Unexplained grouping. The group had far more open sites than she had expected. Enough that she had goosebumps. She was Lisa Wilbourn, she didn't get goosebumps. This was stupid.
"I could be looking for more dirt on Coil's merry band of cutthroats."
She cross-referenced police reports and local newspapers. Once she finished verifying with her power, four of the Unexplained sites were closed.
"Ten left. Ten, fucking, left. This is stupid. They don't exist."
And yet, there were ten sightings that were still unexplained. Ten sightings that kept pinging her power.
"No, fuck this. I'm done."
She snapped her laptop closed and got her running ensemble together. If she couldn't make the idiotic things disappear, then she would just tire herself out until she couldn't think about it anymore.
^0^ ^0^ ^0^ ^0^
"Lisa? You okay? You look like you've just seen —"
"If you finish that sentence I will shoot your dick off, Brian," she snapped. His teeth audibly clanged as they locked together. She leaned against the couch and tore her shoes off hard enough that they rattled the picture on the wall they'd struck.
"That's what I get for giving a shit," Brian muttered as he turned around and stalked back into the kitchen.
Lisa didn't bother to correct him. Instead, shoes off, she stomped into her room, the contents of her dresser dumped onto her bed as she searched for her towel and acceptable day wear.
"He's not wrong," Alec commented from the doorway. Lisa didn't acknowledge him, just muttering under her breath about asshole roommates. "You're pale as shit. And your nerves are going through a delightfully horrific dance."
Lisa finally lifted her head to glare at him. "Pervert."
"Hey I didn't even say 'I could help with that'!"
"You were thinking it."
"But I didn't say it. Progress." He paused, a flicker of a frown crossing his face. Maybe she had underestimated the guy. "Seriously, are you okay?"
"I don't run often. I'm just tired." The excuse was bullshit and they both knew it. There was no way he would care enough to call her out on —
"I know physical exhaustion and it's not. You don't want to talk, fine. But don't 'run' near the Docks again. Or do, but take Rachel next time."
Alec pushed off of the wall and had turned away to head back to the loft's common room. Lisa's hand was on his shoulder holding him back before she'd consciously decided to say anything. Alec glanced down at her hand, then up to meet her eyes, his brows arching.
"What do you know about the Docks?" her voice was quiet, barely a whisper.
He didn't respond for several seconds. When he did, he slowly shook his head. "I know the people in chat are pretty clear not to go anywhere near the place. Something spooked the locals a few weeks back."
"Gaming chat?"
"And the druggies. Mostly the addicts. The dealers are still there." Lisa studiously chose to ignore Alec's vices. He was good about keeping his issues out of their lives. Until that changed, she'd keep her opinions to herself. "Before you ask, yup, Merchants are pretty much disbanded."
"I knew that. After Skidmark," she winced, "there wasn't much that was going to hold them together."
Alec nodded once. "Take Rachel if you go through again, Lisa."
"Do you think it's a cape?"
"Not a damn clue, that's your department, Blondie."
She uncurled her fingers and he was back to his video game before she could form a coherent thread of thought. Finally, scowling again, she grabbed her towel and headed to the bathroom.
It had to be a cape. Her power was stupid, and it was wrong.
It was a cape.
^0^ ^0^ ^0^ ^0^
"I told you already, Boss, it's a personal project." If Lisa could reach through the phone and strangle Coil, she would have done so ten minutes ago. Granted, if she could have done that, a lot of her problems wouldn't have been problems to begin with. If she could have done that she would have been able to leave instead of digging up the rabbit hole.
"It has distracted you from your job, Pet."
She grit her teeth. For the first time she found herself hoping that her power was right and this thing was real. Then after she died like an idiot, at least her grudge would wipe out Coil too. That was how these things worked wasn't it?
"I've already sent you the information on the Empire. Besides, if I'm right, maybe we get a heavy-hitter. Like I've said we needed for months."
Coil was silent for long enough that Lisa knew she'd hit a nerve. She was going to pay for that later. Maybe if she was lucky she wouldn't know what he did to her. "If I recall correctly, Spitfire was perfect for that role until your team drove her away."
"Yeah, well, maybe you should put me in charge of these idiots. Grue is too nice to keep Bitch in line." Not true, he just had other priorities. Not that such an excuse would fly with Coil.
"I expect you to manage your team, Pet. Or you will be managing mine." The line clicked off and it was all Lisa could do to stop herself from throwing it against the wall.
"Rachel!" she shouted, stomping out into the kitchen.
Rachel's head lifted, her hands never stopping their brushing of Judas' fur. "What?"
"Do the dogs need a walk?"
Her eyes narrowed, she glanced up and down Lisa's body. "No. But you do. I'll get the leash."
Lisa heard herself growl as she stomped back into her room for a coat.
Even Rachel was saying she looked like shit now? Fuck them all. She was going to prove that this was a cape.
^0^ ^0^ ^0^ ^0^
They were deep in the Docks' warehouses when Judas stopped, whining and staring down an alley, his tail drooping, and his hackles raised. His side was pressed against Rachel, his gaze unwavering.
Lisa stepped in front of Rachel before the butch girl could say a word. Rachel would mess this up, she would order Judas to attack and that would be that. He'd wind up dead, Rachel would follow him, and Lisa would be the sole survivor only to be tormented for weeks (or just days) before she inevitably followed suit.
She shook her head, her lips pulling back into a snarl. She'd been reading too many crazy stories. This was supposed to be stupid.
The street lights flickered.
It wasn't real.
The mists shifted.
It was just some asshole cape getting her rocks off with terrifying people.
A scream sounded from the alley. Lisa couldn't breathe, couldn't move. The scream pierced her at a place she didn't know she had. Judas whined again, but didn't leave his mistress' side.
"Mugger," Rachel grunted. "We gonna help her?"
The mist shifted, and Lisa could breathe again. She could just make out the woman that Rachel had spotted, as well as the ABB ganger looming over her.
"Of course we're going to —" Lisa's retort died as the lights flickered again, and the mist clumped together, a mass forming right behind the mugger.
Forming was a poor word. One second there had been nothing, the next there was a smoky outline of a person.
"It's not real," Lisa whispered. Her eyes were wide, her teeth and fists clenched.
The mist-girl punched forward, her dagger of mist slipping between the man's jacket. He cried out, clutching his side. His other arm flailing about, the mist-girl didn't seem to notice even as it passed through her.
It punched forward again, the man wheezed out, and dropped. The lights flickered, the mist shifted, the apparition twisted its head to face Lisa.
Just like the first time, just like every other time, her power repeated one single thing:
Taylor Hebert is dead
An endless loop repeated in her head as she stared into the misty glasses just a few feet away. How did her power know that name? How?
The lights went out, and when they came back on the mist-girl — Taylor Hebert — had vanished.
^0^ ^0^ ^0^ ^0^
"You've been looking in the wrong places, Blondie," Alec stated. He plopped down on the couch, scattering Lisa's research. Her head jerked up but the curse died in her throat.
Instead, she snatched the yearbook he was holding out, eliciting a wince from the boy as she tore it from his grip. "High school, Winslow. This is last year's."
Brian leaned over the couch, eyebrows raised. "Uh, yeah. It's October, Lisa. I know you don't go to school, but you do know that school ends in June yeah?"
"Yeah, yeah, fuck you," Lisa said, though there was no heat to it.
Brian rolled his eyes and tapped at the page. "Taylor Hebert, right? You screamed her name the other night. Funny how you say more sleeping than you do awake. We checked for missing persons. This is her right?"
"I checked the Missing list!" Lisa snapped. "How the hell did — No. No, no, no! She is a cape!"
Rachel dropped into the seat next to her, scattering more papers in the process. "According to the report, she died a month ago. Glasses and hair look a lot like the —"
"She is a cape," Lisa growled, cutting Rachel off.
"Sure." Rachel reached up, her fingers combing through Lisa's hair, scratching her scalp. Lisa closed her eyes, breathing out slowly.
"Lise," Brian sighed, "I don't believe in this stuff either. I'm with you. But the reporter talked to her best friend. She seemed pretty convinced that this Taylor girl died. Now I'll grant you that something is going on at the Docks, but you really need to stop obsessing over this."
Lisa just stared at the yearbook page. Curly hair, glasses, wide mouth. It was an exact match. She didn't need her power blaring at her to confirm it.
"There was a news article?" Lisa asked.
"Wow you really are off your game if you didn't look for that first," Alec said. "Yeah, there's an article. From a month ago, Lisa."
"Oh." That must have been why she knew the apparition's name. She had to have read the story when it dropped and then her power recognized the… recognized her.
"I need to talk to the friend," her voice was weak.
"Why does this matter so much?" Brian asked. Rachel's fingers scraped harder. Lisa's eyes closed.
"They aren't real," she whispered. "I know they aren't real. But every time I see that… that girl, my power screams that they are real."
"Never would have pegged you of all people having a phobia," Brian murmured.
Alec shrugged. "Everyone's got something. I'll escort her."
"Yeah, no." Brian snorted. "I'll go. Aisha has a club thing tomorrow. I'm free."
"Yall never let me have any fun."
"Mocking is beneath you," Brian said.
"How dare you imply that I am ever above anything!" Alec shot back.
Lisa just leaned back into Rachel's fingers, ignoring the others' increasingly absurd argument. The yearbook image of Taylor Hebert blurring into mist behind her closed eyes.
^0^ ^0^ ^0^ ^0^
"Emma, so pleased to meet you!" Lisa made no attempt to hide her false cheer. If even half of the things her power was spouting off about the redhead was true, she would gag. "Thank you for agreeing to sit down with us."
The bitch glared. "I didn't exactly have much choice."
"True."
Emma immediately deflated, collapsing back into the coffee shop's booth, her face blanking, the dark circles under her eyes suddenly apparent. "What do you want? I already talked to the reporters. I already told my parents everything. I already know Uncle Danny hates me. Everyone hates me. They're right to."
Lisa's lips thinned as her power filled in more gaps. Beside her Brian frowned. He didn't say anything though. Good. This was her investigation — her obsession.
"You saw what happened to Taylor Hebert."
"I saw my best friend die. I'm why my best friend is dead," Emma hissed. "Don't fucking sugar-coat it. I'm not worth it."
"Tell me what happened."
"Fuck you!"
"There's no body, Emma," Lisa yelled. She ignored the few people in the restaurant that glanced her way. They weren't important. "She didn't die!"
Emma leaned across the table, her fingers interlocking, her hands turning white with how hard she was clenching them. "I watched Taylor die, you bitch."
"Then tell me what you saw!" Lisa's voice was low and dangerous.
Emma at least, didn't disappoint her. "I watched Sophia run into the building to save those dykes." Lisa's eye twitched and Brian's fingers spasmed. Neither interrupted her though. "I watched Sophia fall when the flames blew in the window. It was too hot. I couldn't go in. I —" her voice cracked and she extracted her fingers from their death grip, instead biting down on them until her shivering had passed. "I watched as one of my friends was burning to death. I just watched. And then I watched as Taylor, my Taylor — my Taylor who we just kept punching down, my Taylor who hated us — I watched her run in. I watched her throw Sophia and the bitches out the window. I watched her meet my eyes. I watched her fall.
"And I. Just. Watched!" Emma finished, her voice sounding like Lisa imagined a cat's wailing would screech.
"There was no body," Lisa stated, her words slow and deliberate. "There was. No. Body."
Emma shook her head, her arms wrapped around herself. "BBPD said it was a tinker fire. They said she was just… It was too hot. There wouldn't be anything left. Taylor's dead. We lured her out there and… My best friend is dead because I'm a monster and she was not."
Lisa barely even noticed as Brian gently pulled her away. She didn't register that they were at the car until he was pushing her into the seat. Lisa looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "She's a cape, Bri. She… she's a cape."
He leaned down, pushing his forehead against hers. "Don't get lost in your power, Lise. Garbage in, garbage out. That's what you said. Those are your words. Don't go down the rabbit hole."
"They aren't real. She's a cape." Lisa shivered, the street lights flickered.
"Or it's a projection from that broken redhead who thinks she killed her friend by not trying to help. There's a lot of answers, there's a lot of dead ends. Let the PRT deal with this."
Lisa nodded. Her eyes locked over Brian's shoulder. Locked on the mist-girl standing guard at the alleyway.
Brian smiled, squeezed her shoulder and walked around the car. As he started the engine and pulled away from the curb, Emma walked out of the restaurant. Lisa watched in the mirror, noting Taylor Hebert's gaze following the redhead as she stumbled down the street, wiping at her eyes.
The street lights flickered. Taylor Hebert was gone.
Brian kept driving, none the wiser.
AN: This did not end up being what it had started out as. Originally this was going to be Lisa getting garbage outputs from her power that said Taylor was dead, but the ghost in front of her was Taylor, and it would spur her to hunt down why her power was spouting a random name at her for an apparition that she saw while on a job, for an instant, that she wasn't even sure she had actually seen. It would have led her to find that Taylor had triggered and become a sort of C-53 smoke girl/monster though most people assumed she just died. It would have ended with Lisa realizing that Taylor originally looked ghosty because she hadn't quite worked out how to maintain her old humanoid form yet, but that she was getting better at it as time went on.
Instead as I wrote through this, it ended up being far more ambiguous than I had originally intended. Is Taylor dead and just a ghost? Is she a cape? Is she Emma's projection? Is she Danny's? Are there two different projections? I like this ambiguity better; I think it fits Halloween more.
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