- Location
- Missouri
Is... is this even allowed? Writing a story with a protagonist coil is just wrong. Filthy. Obscene, even.
I like it!
How to Train Your Endbringer
- Thread starter RavensDagger
- Start date
Is... is this even allowed? Writing a story with a protagonist coil is just wrong. Filthy. Obscene, even.
I like it!
- Location
- Can't read map
Actually...
If work is honestly comedy and Coil is sort of good, without his worst qualities...
Imagine: Mouse protector VS Cat girl recreating rivalry of Tom and Jerry in cape form, though fight aren't one sided in Jerry's favor.
If going more serious there's something like... was Night name of shapeshifting cape from E88? Extremely fast and deadly, monstrous form if not seen by humans?
- Location
- Buffalo, NY, USA
I remember reading a short a while back (that I can't find now) where Taylor had the Stranger power to make any male parahuman think and remember they were her dad, and she'd get a copy of their powers while doing it.
When it was her turn with Coil, they were both constantly trying to kill, and countering attempts to kill, each other in alternate timelines while pretending to be a happy family in the main one.
When it was her turn with Coil, they were both constantly trying to kill, and countering attempts to kill, each other in alternate timelines while pretending to be a happy family in the main one.
eschwartz
Glorious Wordsmith and Author-Whisperer
- Location
- Roundworld
Alex Prior
We are Many
- Location
- A charming, foreign port
Adopted by...!
Tom'd be about as good of a father as Gendo Ikari!
...that's what you're going for. Isn't it.
earthboy
(verified ape)
- Location
- NYC
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Tommy: "Get in the fucking dragonsuit, Taylor."
Emma: "I'm not hitting you because I like you! B-baka!"
Taylor: "I mustn't run away from home. I mustn't run away from school."
Contessa (SOUND ONLY): "The scenario is proceeding according to the predicted parameters."
(Still a better love story than Twilight.)
- Location
- Can't read map
endbringer
Considering organic nature of Eva and origin of theirs, it's more likely for used mech to be lobotomised endbringer like unit with hollow space for pilot. Pilot has artificially created brain tumor, similar to that of capes, which helps them synchronize with unit.
... and there was Blasto attempting to make a clone in cannon of... was it leviathan?... but got visited by S9 during their shopping spree of supplies for Bonesaw.
Or Cauldron attempting to connect human into rest of Edens body, where it was forming it's avatar before Contessa interrupted.
.....
...
.
Why aren't you doing this already Cannon!Cauldron!? You got rid of all good parts of story, while making terrible ones even worse!
*screamed various fans*
earthboy
(verified ape)
- Location
- NYC
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The origin of Eva bio-mechs is the dead mother of the pilot, combined with some sort of eldritch alien monstrosity.
So basically a gigantic Case 53 clone of mommy, with her dead soul grafted back on.
Thus, in this story Taylor's mom was (somehow) Dragon.
Daddy Calvert: "Yes, and that's why we never told you, and why her parents were never around. Her full name was Dragannette. Now excuse me, it's lunchtime so I need to go visit Noelle in Central Dogma."
Ace Dreamer
Verified Reality User
- Location
- Between The Unknown & The Known
Last edited:
- Location
- Buffalo, NY, USA
As if any civilized person would fail to immediately recognize a quote from any entry in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series.
As for the Eva scenario.... Lisa = Asuka, Dinah = Rei.
Ace Dreamer
Verified Reality User
- Location
- Between The Unknown & The Known
As for the Eva scenario.... Lisa = Asuka, Dinah = Rei.
I'm not convinced... How about shoving Uber's power into Emma, for Asuka, and cloning-off Glory Girl (with a serious knock to her ego, due to an accident where she gets Alabaster's colouration?) for Rei?
Instead of cloning Victoria, Bakuda could have had bombs that mess with cape powers, blowing them out of the cape into someone else... And, in GG Alabaster's shard produced a load of (inactive) albino clones of Victoria... And she's already jumped to a clone... Also explains how Emma got Uber's shard...
Then, you throw in Leet building a Joe 90 system for the now powerless Uber, so he can have super-skills, as long as he wears heavy rimmed glasses.
And, Squealer/Sherrel's shard ends up in Lisa, so she builds the Eva.
You could also give Coil Gallant's powers, so he can emotionally intimidate people, by glaring at them over his steepled hands.
Last edited:
- Location
- Buffalo, NY, USA
If a power is needed to pull off the Gendo stare... it's NOT the Gendo stare.You could also give Coil Gallant's powers, so he can emotionally intimidate people, by glaring at them over his steepled hands.
Ace Dreamer
Verified Reality User
- Location
- Between The Unknown & The Known
You don't believe Coil cheats?
On a related subject, I was just reading a fanfic which included:
"Ia! Ia! Ayanami F'Taghn!"
Pretty sure Ziz wouldn't object to running a few Reis for front-end human interaction...
Last edited:
The Grand Tournament - Part Three - In Which Taylor Finds Some Hosts
RavensDagger
Officially Infracted Speceist since 2019!
- Location
- Someplace Cold, Canada
The Grand Tournament - Part Three - In Which Taylor Finds Some Hosts
Brockton Bay was starting, finally, to look a bit better.
Taylor leaned into the side of her seat, her head pressed up against the passenger window so that she could have as wide a view of the passing streets as possible.
The car had to swerve around the myriad pot-holes that dotted every street and most streetlights were still due to be fixed, so intersections were a bit of a pain. Still, with Mouse Protector driving the little sports car with the same amount of care that she did everything else (which is to say, very little) the drive was proving somewhat interesting.
"What's on your mind, little mouse?" the heroine asked while shooting a glare at the traffic ahead of them.
"Hmm? Oh, not much. It's just that the city isn't where I want it to be," Taylor said.
Mouse Protector leaned into her seat as they waited behind a line of cars. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Why couldn't you start your little kingdom a hundred miles to the south of here? You know, more sunshine, more beaches."
"That's not what I meant," Taylor said, though she couldn't stop her smile from showing in her voice. "I mean, I want the streets to be cleaner, and for there to be more people, and for the city to be a nicer place. It's getting there, I guess, but it just feels so... slow."
"That kind of thing takes time. Some cities got back on their feet after an Endbringer attack, like New York, but some places just can't pull themselves back out. I think Brockton Bay will get better, but it'll take quite some time."
"Can't I do anything to make it faster?" Taylor asked.
"You're asking the wrong rodent, love," Mouse Protector said. "I think you're doing just fine. Folks were mighty scared of you, still are, but you've gone a while without anything real bad happening. Most folk that were afraid that you'd go bad have either already left the state or are losing steam. Only the real paranoid are still afraid of you. Most of the others around here are getting used to the idea that Endbringers just... live in Brockton Bay. I don't know much about international stuff, but locally, that's gotta mean that folks can start rebuilding with an eye for tomorrow, you know?"
Taylor pulled her legs up until her knees were pressed up against her chin and her sneakers were poking into the car's leather seats. "Yeah. I was hoping that the tournament would gather more people."
"Oh, gosh, I've no doubt that all sorts of crazies will be coming around. Heck, if you play it right and make it like... a superbowl kind of thing, then folks from all over will be able to see it." She paused to curse under her breath and make a rather rude gesture at the car that was trying to cut into their line. "What you need are sponsors, advertising and... actually, the more I think on it, the more stuff I think you'll need. Especially if you want this to be a big thing."
"I do. I want people from all over to come, and to watch. The more people come here, the more money they'll spend here. And that means more money to fix Brockton Bay, right?"
"I follow," Mouse Protector said. "I'm just worried that organizing all of that might be... a bit much, you know?"
Taylor was still thinking on the problems she had made for herself when they pulled into the front of the new PRT headquarters. The building was only partially completed, with steel beams rising up far into the air to meet with the hanging booms of cranes. Men in bright yellow hats were wandering around like worker bees, carrying all manner of tools and materials while trucks full of equipment clogged up to the roads around the new building.
Adding to the chaos was the fact that the first two floors were already operating as usual. Mouse Protector had told her that a fair bit of the PRT's work was being done from the Rig but the director and some of the other important sorts were already relocating back here.
Apparently there was a lot of discussion as to whether there should even be a PRT in Brockton Bay anymore. What with crime being at an all-time low. Taylor's pre-tournament anti-crime ultimatum had scared away a lot of bad folk.
Mouse Protector pulled up to the front steps of the new PRT building, rode up onto the curb and put the car in park. "We're here," she announced.
Taylor didn't have a driver's license yet. She wasn't terribly familiar with all of the rules of the road, and her sum total of driving experience was a couple of vague memories of her driving while sitting on her dad's knees with her mom cheerfully complaining the entire time.
Still, she was pretty sure that you weren't allowed to park in the middle of a construction site with half your car blocking the front door. Taylor was pretty sure that, unless Mouse Protector was a lot more flexible than she looked, there was no way she'd be able to squeeze out of her door.
"Okay then," Taylor said as she popped open the door and stepped out.
A pair of PRT troopers with foam guns and an irate looking foreman were marching towards her. All three stumbled to a halt while her dress robes settled around her legs.
Taylor blinked, then looked from one startled face to the next. "Um, can we park here?" she asked.
The three men shared a look and by some unspoken agreement transmitted via bro-code, one of the troopers stepped up. "Of course, Miss Queen Administrator ma'am. You may park your, um, car wherever you please," he said.
"Really? That seems rather inconvenient for everyone else."
"Um," the trooper replied smartly.
Mouse Protector appeared next to Taylor with a nearly silent woosh of displaced air. "Sorry boys. We shouldn't be here too long," she said. "Oh, is the Director here?"
"Protocol dictates that we can't unveil that information, ma'am," the same trooper said.
Mouse Protector's grin only grew. "When they start going on about protocols it usually means that you're on the right track," she faux-whispered next to Taylor. The way the troopers all fidgeted kind of gave them away too.
Taylor thanked the guards and bowed a tiny bit before walking past them. If she was going to play the role of Queen to the hilt, then it would do her good to start practicing the little things as soon as possible.
The lobby of the new PRT building was, in a word, rather bare. Walls with patches of drywall still showing, bits of tape marking out where utilities would be, piles of dust and wood left in the wake of the workers that were still milling about. It looked as though it was mostly complete, and Taylor could imagine what the room was going to look like in a few weeks when it was completed.
With sure steps, Taylor marched up to the counter and smiled at the clerk behind it. "Hello, I need to see the director please," she said.
The young woman --a Joan, judging by the nametag-- behind the counter nodded quickly, her fingers already flying across her keyboard. "O-of course, ma'am." She bit her lips, looked at something on the screen, then glanced back up to Taylor. "Um, the Director will see you, now. Did... did you bring one of your Endbringers with you?"
"Oh? No, they wouldn't fit, so I left them at home. Levi's looking for rocks in the ocean and Simmy is practicing her calligraphy at the castle."
Joan nodded again, like a cat following a twitchy laser pointer. "Of course. Please, take the steps over there," she said while gesturing to a staircase off to the side, "And make your way to the next floor up."
After thanking the flustered receptionist, Taylor and Mouse Protector climbed the stairs up to the next floor and found a rather rotund woman waiting for them at the top. Next to the woman and standing with an easy smile on was Legend, his costume resplendent as usual.
The woman brushed her hands against the suit jacket she wore and then extended a hand towards Taylor. "I'm Director Emily Piggot of the PRT ENE."
"Hello!" Taylor said as she shook the woman's hand. "I'm Queen Administrator of the Grand Administratorius of Brockton Bay. Hi Legend!"
"Hello, Queen Administrator," he said.
"Yes," the Director said with a flat voice. "I've heard all about you. We have a conference room ready, if you wanted to talk." She waved off to the side where an open door revealed a room with a round table with a projector built into its centre and a few dozen chairs waiting around it.
"Sure!" Taylor said. She flounced into the room after the Director and soon enough all four of them were squeezing into their seats, Taylor and Mouse Protector on one side and Legend and the Director on the other.
"So, Queen Administrator, care to tell me why you decided to visit us today?"
"A few reasons, actually." Taylor started to twiddle her thumbs under the table while leaning back. "Um, the PRT is supposed to take care of things with Parahumans, right?"
"A bit simply put, but essentially correct," Piggot said.
"Right, right, so a tournament where parahumans fight in a giant parahuman-built arena would, uh, kinda fall within the PRT's jurisdiction, yeah?"
The Director twitched. "Yes, yes it most definitely would."
"Huh," Taylor said. "Well, um, I'm having a tournament at the end of the month. Just... thought I should let you know?" She tried giving the woman her best smile. It didn't work very well.
"Thank you very much," the Director said in the most thankless tone Taylor had ever heard.
"Right! So, uh, are there going to be any problems? You know, with the tournament, and stuff?"
Mouse Protector sighed from her seat next to Taylor and wrapped an arm over her back. "Sweetheart, you're not supposed to ask that kind of question. You're suppose to wait until after the disaster happened and ask for forgiveness then. Trust me, I've been in many, many relationships."
"There are a... few concerns," Director Piggot said. She crossed her arms on the table and stared right at Taylor. "You said something about a truce. And while I don't doubt your ability to win against just about any cape out there barring perhaps Eidolon and the Faerie Queen, I don't see how you intend to keep up that truce."
Taylor was glad the director had started her off with an easy question. "Oh, I asked Simmie to get me a list of every crime that was going to be committed in Brockton Bay between now and the tournament. Then, since the list was really, really long, I ask her to send everyone a letter telling them that crime is bad and that we're watching them at all times and will know the second they do something bad."
There was a long beat of silence at the table that was only broken when Mouse Protector snorted.
"I can't even begin to imagine how many laws that breaks," the Director said.
Legend actually looked somewhat amused. "It's a rather novel method to deter crime."
"Yes, and the press certainly won't start throwing accusations about Big Brothers and infringing on people's privacy," the Director said. "Though I'll admit that it should work."
"Great!" Taylor said. Things were going really well so far. "So, um, I also wanted to ask you a question, Legend, and I'm glad you're here."
The iconic hero raised an eyebrow at that. "Go ahead."
"How would you feel about being one of the announcers at my tournament?"
***
It took Taylor all of a week to discover that the bridge leading up to her castle was perfect skipping ground. It was long, straight and flat. The passage had a firm but bouncy surface that didn't hurt the soles of her feet and there was plenty of room to swing her arms around between each bounce.
It helped that her costume fluffed most agreeably with each skip.
"You look silly," Mouse Protector said.
Okay, so there were some downsides to skipping, Taylor knew, but it was still totally worth it. "I don't care, it's fun," she replied.
The stalwart heroine kept up, walking at a brisk pace next to Taylor. Then she started skipping too.
It was a giggling girl and young woman that arrived at the gate of the Grand Administratorius to find that someone was waiting for them.
The girl was a bit older than Taylor, with wide eyes and bright yellow hair that stopped just past her shoulders. She might have been an ordinary person, except her hair had feathers sticking out of it and her clothes were coloured an offensively bright orange with the words The Baumann Parahuman Containment Center in bold on her chest.
She bowed towards Taylor, her hair falling over to cover her face. "Queen Administrator," she said.
"Um, yes?"
"Greetings," the girl said. Then she continued with the sort of cadence that was reserved for rehearsed speeches. I am Canary, a messenger of my mistress, the Queen of Faerie, here on her behalf in order to ascertain your availability for tea."
***
Mucho thanks to eschwartz and ChaoticSky and Shandromand (his name ends with a D!) for making the story easier on the eyes.
Also, news!
I have a new story out on Spacebattles and Sufficient Velocity (and on A03, but I don't spend much time there).
Taylor Calvert!
Summary: After both of her parents are found dead in a lethal car crash, a now orphaned Taylor Hebert triggers. She is adopted by Thomas Calvert who allows his newest pet to become one of his greatest lieutenants and assets as he prepares to take over Brockton Bay.
For the rest of this week, I'll be releasing a chapter every day!
Happy reading!
Brockton Bay was starting, finally, to look a bit better.
Taylor leaned into the side of her seat, her head pressed up against the passenger window so that she could have as wide a view of the passing streets as possible.
The car had to swerve around the myriad pot-holes that dotted every street and most streetlights were still due to be fixed, so intersections were a bit of a pain. Still, with Mouse Protector driving the little sports car with the same amount of care that she did everything else (which is to say, very little) the drive was proving somewhat interesting.
"What's on your mind, little mouse?" the heroine asked while shooting a glare at the traffic ahead of them.
"Hmm? Oh, not much. It's just that the city isn't where I want it to be," Taylor said.
Mouse Protector leaned into her seat as they waited behind a line of cars. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Why couldn't you start your little kingdom a hundred miles to the south of here? You know, more sunshine, more beaches."
"That's not what I meant," Taylor said, though she couldn't stop her smile from showing in her voice. "I mean, I want the streets to be cleaner, and for there to be more people, and for the city to be a nicer place. It's getting there, I guess, but it just feels so... slow."
"That kind of thing takes time. Some cities got back on their feet after an Endbringer attack, like New York, but some places just can't pull themselves back out. I think Brockton Bay will get better, but it'll take quite some time."
"Can't I do anything to make it faster?" Taylor asked.
"You're asking the wrong rodent, love," Mouse Protector said. "I think you're doing just fine. Folks were mighty scared of you, still are, but you've gone a while without anything real bad happening. Most folk that were afraid that you'd go bad have either already left the state or are losing steam. Only the real paranoid are still afraid of you. Most of the others around here are getting used to the idea that Endbringers just... live in Brockton Bay. I don't know much about international stuff, but locally, that's gotta mean that folks can start rebuilding with an eye for tomorrow, you know?"
Taylor pulled her legs up until her knees were pressed up against her chin and her sneakers were poking into the car's leather seats. "Yeah. I was hoping that the tournament would gather more people."
"Oh, gosh, I've no doubt that all sorts of crazies will be coming around. Heck, if you play it right and make it like... a superbowl kind of thing, then folks from all over will be able to see it." She paused to curse under her breath and make a rather rude gesture at the car that was trying to cut into their line. "What you need are sponsors, advertising and... actually, the more I think on it, the more stuff I think you'll need. Especially if you want this to be a big thing."
"I do. I want people from all over to come, and to watch. The more people come here, the more money they'll spend here. And that means more money to fix Brockton Bay, right?"
"I follow," Mouse Protector said. "I'm just worried that organizing all of that might be... a bit much, you know?"
Taylor was still thinking on the problems she had made for herself when they pulled into the front of the new PRT headquarters. The building was only partially completed, with steel beams rising up far into the air to meet with the hanging booms of cranes. Men in bright yellow hats were wandering around like worker bees, carrying all manner of tools and materials while trucks full of equipment clogged up to the roads around the new building.
Adding to the chaos was the fact that the first two floors were already operating as usual. Mouse Protector had told her that a fair bit of the PRT's work was being done from the Rig but the director and some of the other important sorts were already relocating back here.
Apparently there was a lot of discussion as to whether there should even be a PRT in Brockton Bay anymore. What with crime being at an all-time low. Taylor's pre-tournament anti-crime ultimatum had scared away a lot of bad folk.
Mouse Protector pulled up to the front steps of the new PRT building, rode up onto the curb and put the car in park. "We're here," she announced.
Taylor didn't have a driver's license yet. She wasn't terribly familiar with all of the rules of the road, and her sum total of driving experience was a couple of vague memories of her driving while sitting on her dad's knees with her mom cheerfully complaining the entire time.
Still, she was pretty sure that you weren't allowed to park in the middle of a construction site with half your car blocking the front door. Taylor was pretty sure that, unless Mouse Protector was a lot more flexible than she looked, there was no way she'd be able to squeeze out of her door.
"Okay then," Taylor said as she popped open the door and stepped out.
A pair of PRT troopers with foam guns and an irate looking foreman were marching towards her. All three stumbled to a halt while her dress robes settled around her legs.
Taylor blinked, then looked from one startled face to the next. "Um, can we park here?" she asked.
The three men shared a look and by some unspoken agreement transmitted via bro-code, one of the troopers stepped up. "Of course, Miss Queen Administrator ma'am. You may park your, um, car wherever you please," he said.
"Really? That seems rather inconvenient for everyone else."
"Um," the trooper replied smartly.
Mouse Protector appeared next to Taylor with a nearly silent woosh of displaced air. "Sorry boys. We shouldn't be here too long," she said. "Oh, is the Director here?"
"Protocol dictates that we can't unveil that information, ma'am," the same trooper said.
Mouse Protector's grin only grew. "When they start going on about protocols it usually means that you're on the right track," she faux-whispered next to Taylor. The way the troopers all fidgeted kind of gave them away too.
Taylor thanked the guards and bowed a tiny bit before walking past them. If she was going to play the role of Queen to the hilt, then it would do her good to start practicing the little things as soon as possible.
The lobby of the new PRT building was, in a word, rather bare. Walls with patches of drywall still showing, bits of tape marking out where utilities would be, piles of dust and wood left in the wake of the workers that were still milling about. It looked as though it was mostly complete, and Taylor could imagine what the room was going to look like in a few weeks when it was completed.
With sure steps, Taylor marched up to the counter and smiled at the clerk behind it. "Hello, I need to see the director please," she said.
The young woman --a Joan, judging by the nametag-- behind the counter nodded quickly, her fingers already flying across her keyboard. "O-of course, ma'am." She bit her lips, looked at something on the screen, then glanced back up to Taylor. "Um, the Director will see you, now. Did... did you bring one of your Endbringers with you?"
"Oh? No, they wouldn't fit, so I left them at home. Levi's looking for rocks in the ocean and Simmy is practicing her calligraphy at the castle."
Joan nodded again, like a cat following a twitchy laser pointer. "Of course. Please, take the steps over there," she said while gesturing to a staircase off to the side, "And make your way to the next floor up."
After thanking the flustered receptionist, Taylor and Mouse Protector climbed the stairs up to the next floor and found a rather rotund woman waiting for them at the top. Next to the woman and standing with an easy smile on was Legend, his costume resplendent as usual.
The woman brushed her hands against the suit jacket she wore and then extended a hand towards Taylor. "I'm Director Emily Piggot of the PRT ENE."
"Hello!" Taylor said as she shook the woman's hand. "I'm Queen Administrator of the Grand Administratorius of Brockton Bay. Hi Legend!"
"Hello, Queen Administrator," he said.
"Yes," the Director said with a flat voice. "I've heard all about you. We have a conference room ready, if you wanted to talk." She waved off to the side where an open door revealed a room with a round table with a projector built into its centre and a few dozen chairs waiting around it.
"Sure!" Taylor said. She flounced into the room after the Director and soon enough all four of them were squeezing into their seats, Taylor and Mouse Protector on one side and Legend and the Director on the other.
"So, Queen Administrator, care to tell me why you decided to visit us today?"
"A few reasons, actually." Taylor started to twiddle her thumbs under the table while leaning back. "Um, the PRT is supposed to take care of things with Parahumans, right?"
"A bit simply put, but essentially correct," Piggot said.
"Right, right, so a tournament where parahumans fight in a giant parahuman-built arena would, uh, kinda fall within the PRT's jurisdiction, yeah?"
The Director twitched. "Yes, yes it most definitely would."
"Huh," Taylor said. "Well, um, I'm having a tournament at the end of the month. Just... thought I should let you know?" She tried giving the woman her best smile. It didn't work very well.
"Thank you very much," the Director said in the most thankless tone Taylor had ever heard.
"Right! So, uh, are there going to be any problems? You know, with the tournament, and stuff?"
Mouse Protector sighed from her seat next to Taylor and wrapped an arm over her back. "Sweetheart, you're not supposed to ask that kind of question. You're suppose to wait until after the disaster happened and ask for forgiveness then. Trust me, I've been in many, many relationships."
"There are a... few concerns," Director Piggot said. She crossed her arms on the table and stared right at Taylor. "You said something about a truce. And while I don't doubt your ability to win against just about any cape out there barring perhaps Eidolon and the Faerie Queen, I don't see how you intend to keep up that truce."
Taylor was glad the director had started her off with an easy question. "Oh, I asked Simmie to get me a list of every crime that was going to be committed in Brockton Bay between now and the tournament. Then, since the list was really, really long, I ask her to send everyone a letter telling them that crime is bad and that we're watching them at all times and will know the second they do something bad."
There was a long beat of silence at the table that was only broken when Mouse Protector snorted.
"I can't even begin to imagine how many laws that breaks," the Director said.
Legend actually looked somewhat amused. "It's a rather novel method to deter crime."
"Yes, and the press certainly won't start throwing accusations about Big Brothers and infringing on people's privacy," the Director said. "Though I'll admit that it should work."
"Great!" Taylor said. Things were going really well so far. "So, um, I also wanted to ask you a question, Legend, and I'm glad you're here."
The iconic hero raised an eyebrow at that. "Go ahead."
"How would you feel about being one of the announcers at my tournament?"
***
It took Taylor all of a week to discover that the bridge leading up to her castle was perfect skipping ground. It was long, straight and flat. The passage had a firm but bouncy surface that didn't hurt the soles of her feet and there was plenty of room to swing her arms around between each bounce.
It helped that her costume fluffed most agreeably with each skip.
"You look silly," Mouse Protector said.
Okay, so there were some downsides to skipping, Taylor knew, but it was still totally worth it. "I don't care, it's fun," she replied.
The stalwart heroine kept up, walking at a brisk pace next to Taylor. Then she started skipping too.
It was a giggling girl and young woman that arrived at the gate of the Grand Administratorius to find that someone was waiting for them.
The girl was a bit older than Taylor, with wide eyes and bright yellow hair that stopped just past her shoulders. She might have been an ordinary person, except her hair had feathers sticking out of it and her clothes were coloured an offensively bright orange with the words The Baumann Parahuman Containment Center in bold on her chest.
She bowed towards Taylor, her hair falling over to cover her face. "Queen Administrator," she said.
"Um, yes?"
"Greetings," the girl said. Then she continued with the sort of cadence that was reserved for rehearsed speeches. I am Canary, a messenger of my mistress, the Queen of Faerie, here on her behalf in order to ascertain your availability for tea."
***
Mucho thanks to eschwartz and ChaoticSky and Shandromand (his name ends with a D!) for making the story easier on the eyes.
Also, news!
I have a new story out on Spacebattles and Sufficient Velocity (and on A03, but I don't spend much time there).
Taylor Calvert!
Summary: After both of her parents are found dead in a lethal car crash, a now orphaned Taylor Hebert triggers. She is adopted by Thomas Calvert who allows his newest pet to become one of his greatest lieutenants and assets as he prepares to take over Brockton Bay.
For the rest of this week, I'll be releasing a chapter every day!
Happy reading!
- Location
- Can't read map
Simmy appears dressed as secretary and wearing glasses.
She is looking at her papers, while biting pencil.
[Sure. Sure. Easy to do.] Stops biting pencil and looks at Taylor. [Anything else?]
Dust cloud rises. Takes form of "!!!", then of arrow leading to Piggot.
Or bread appears from somewhere, starts floating toward Piggot, while leaving bread crumbs behind.
Piggot: I am so going to strangle you traitor. Even if I went with presentation how we are supposed to help her with anything, even if it is sacrificing puppies to dark gods.
Minority report or anime Psychopass gave Simmy ideas.
".... I planed to participate actually... What about tricking Eidolon into role?"
speeches. " I am Canary.
- Location
- Can't read map
"Yeah, sure. We have 90% of Birdcage population participating in tournament. Rest is more interested into being spectators. Whatever. I already left Brockton bay and am just eating popcorns while watching news of outside.... in my comfortable nuclear bomb shelter, for what little it's worth, while waiting for end of the world." Looks at watch. "Any day now."
- Location
- North America
ooooo a Tea Party! SIMMI GET OUT THE FANCY CUPS!
- Location
- Somewhere
Well... this is going to be one hell of a party. Three Queen-level agents in one location, and theoretically all could be open to recruiting.
The Fallen might cause trouble though... to say nothing of Eidolon accidentally spawning more endbringers out of frustration over a lack of a grand threat to fight.
The Fallen might cause trouble though... to say nothing of Eidolon accidentally spawning more endbringers out of frustration over a lack of a grand threat to fight.
We Just Write
Blatantly Plural
- Location
- New England
- Pronouns
- Plural
...You do realize that last one just leads to the Queen getting more subjects, right?
I almost died laughing.
Also, Emily, I think thd number of laws broken is binary.
0 if USPS was not involved.
1 if Simmie made up her own stamps.
Sakuya's Butler
A refined Butler to a knife wielding Mistress.
- Location
- ↓, ↘, → + Punch
Due to a rather (in)famous fanfic on SB, and here more or less due to the author spans both sites, the normal plural form of Rei, is The Ree.You don't believe Coil cheats?
On a related subject, I was just reading a fanfic which included:
"Ia! Ia! Ayanami F'Taghn!"
Pretty sure Ziz wouldn't object to running a few Reis for front-end human interaction...
Yes, 'The' is required to be capitalized. Because it ensures nobody dies.
And of course Coil doesn't cheat. He just took the free pre-cog perk nobody else wanted and then raised it's stat to one short of maximum. Sadly, Ziz beat him to the maximum, plus she's gone full Epic.
- Location
- Existance
People had finally realised that Leviathan's daily scrubbings would continue until everyone stopped making a mess. Graffiti and littering ground to a halt almost overnight.
[Solution!]
"You're right. Maybe I should entrust this to someone who's had experience organising things before?"
*later*
"What do you mean 'I thought you meant the Simurgh.'? That's silly. Behemoth is the one with experience running a business."
News anchor teleprompters around the world are modified mid-introduction to let the talking heads know that the Simurgh would very much rather be referred to as a Big Sister thank you very much, but feel free to continue reporting, loyal citizen.
"I'm not usually one to play to stereotypes, but that would be fabulous!"
Let's none of us contemplate which is more mature.