Let's read Worm and its sequel Ward by Wildbow (One chapter/every day)

blackarrow · Apr 1, 2018

AmbarGriss said:
Now I can't wait for you to read Coil's interlude :/

Oh, no, a whole Interlude with Coil....I'm gonna RAGE so hard during it.....

blackarrow · Apr 1, 2018

BIG ANNOUNCEMENT: I'm going to give up reading Worm because I had a sudden revelation that is not very good, it has boring and one-dimensional characters, the writing absolute SUCKS, very little action and no interesting plot at all. Also, the villains are as harmless as little kids. So, no more Worm's reviews, I'm very sorry to have to say that

. It was fun while it lasted

.

It's April Fools' Day, guys

rofl:

ExNihilo · Apr 1, 2018

That means I can spoil it now, right?

Dumbledore kills Rosebud using Serenity, before turning into Spock of Many Colors. This prompts Thanos to learn the power of friendship.

AmbarGriss · Apr 1, 2018

Frodo uses the One Ring to turn into Scion, then he recruits Danny Phantom, Luke Skywalker and Jean Gray to fight against the Reapers and the Death Eaters who are under the control of Jar Jar Binks (he was sith lord all along, who could have guessed?).

Assembler · Apr 1, 2018

blackarrow said:
I apologize to all Coil's fans here

He doesn't really have all that many. Less popular than Trickster, and for a better reason.

blackarrow · Apr 1, 2018

Assembler said:
He doesn't really have all that many. Less popular than Trickster, and for a better reason.

I told my friend (who recommended me Worm) how much I DISLIKE Coil and the answer I got from her was: "Coil? Fuck that guy." I guess she's not his fan either

.

blackarrow · Apr 1, 2018

Hi, tricksters and tricked people, what's up? Last chapter was pretty anxious to me (I don't like at all manipulation/power games, even if I'm interested- in the same time- to follow them. Maybe this is the reason I like Game of Thrones, despite being mostly about power games over power games over power games , at least is fascinating enough to catch my attention) but at least Number Man (bless his funny codename) turned the ending into pure comedy

. Number Man, even if you'll turn out to be an ass, I still can't wait to meet you and thank you properly for putting a smile on my face. So, Coil promised to Undersiders what they wanted to hear the most, in exchange for their help. He promised to Bitch that he'll take care of her dogs, to Regent that he'll help him become more powerful than his villain dad, to Grue that he'll solve his problems (I think is about the money he needs to keep Aisha in his care), to Skitter that he's going to make Brockton Bay GREAT AGAIN, and to Trickster that he'll fix Travellers' problem. Evidently, clear lies. Tattletale is somehow manipulated by Coil and I don't want Undersiders to agree to become his enforcers, but on the other side, I want them to realize that Coil will get rid of them when they're no use for him anymore and plan to bring Coil down, even if they have to pretend that they work for him. "sighs" But if Tattle is manipulated by Coil, then she'll sabotage every one of their plans. The solution for them is to see what's going on with Tattletale, help her somehow to be free from Coil's control then fuck Coil up. Let's see what will happen in 6.09 | Worm

Dear Miss Militia…

Was it wrong to start with Dear? Was that implying more friendship or intimacy than there was? Would it seem taunting?
Miss Militia, we met earlier tonight…
No. If I went that route, she might throw it aside alongside all the other fan mail she got.
Miss Militia, you know me as Skitter, but you don't truly know me…
Better, but I didn't like the tone. I'd leave it as is, move on, and come back to it later.
…You see, I'm not a villain, despite…
Despite what? Despite the fact that I'd terrorized and hurt a lot of innocent people? Despite the fact that I'd nearly killed Lung and later cut his eyes out? That I had nearly two hundred and eighty thousand dollars in illegitimate money to my name?

I shivered, pulled my hands from my pockets and did up my sweatshirt to cover my exposed stomach. After we'd arrived at the Loft, Brian had suggested that we were all too tired to discuss Coil's proposal, so we tabled all discussion until the morning. I was glad for the excuse to avoid hearing or seeing anything that might make this any harder. Besides, I'd promised my dad I would be home tonight.
It was past nine, so the bus from the ferry was only arriving every ninety minutes. I'd figured it was better to walk home than wait. I could use the stretching, too, given the abuse my body had sustained while I was riding Judas.
Sticking my hands back in my pockets, I returned my thoughts to how I'd word my letter to Miss Militia. Scratch 'despite'. Another approach, maybe?
…Believe it or not, my intentions all along have been good. I joined the Undersiders in the first place to assist you. To assist this city…
Was that entirely true? No. If I was being entirely honest with myself, part of the reason I'd joined and stayed with the Undersiders was because I had been lonely. What if I offered some honesty?
…It caught me off guard just how easy it was to like them. I was in a bad place, and they accepted me. So writing this email to you is difficult. But it is necessary. In the end, I decided to go this route because it serves the greater good…
That was what I had told myself, earlier today, before we left for the job. That sticking with those guys would pose the greatest risk to innocents, that it would eventually lead to someone getting caught in crossfire, or me getting arrested for something serious.
But now I had Coil's agenda to consider. Was he really being honest about how he planned to help this city? I had no reason to believe he was lying, and Tattletale was vouching for him. But at the same time, Coil's motif was asnake, and Tattletale had hedged the truth and misled me before.

Ok, Taylor is planning to write a letter to Miss Militia where she wants to surrender and tells her about her villainous actions. I'm sure that she's not going to write that letter, she'll change her mind when she'll remember that Undersiders are still her friends, even if Lisa is duplicitous for REASONS. I have a very crazy theory but I'm sure that is also very real. About the night where Skitter fought Lung first time. I think this fight was planned by Coil. He found out, somehow, that Taylor wants to become a superhero, so he ordered Undersiders to enrage Lung in such a way that he decided to kill them, Skitter heard Lung's plan, she fought him, then Undersiders all of "sudden" came into her help, saving her from a certain death. Then they recruited her, turning her from hero into villain. Lisa knew all this time that she's planning to betray them, but she tried her best to won Taylor's friendship to make her change her mind. I'm not sure now about Lisa's friendship feelings for Taylor, did she ever cared for her for real or she only played Coil's game all this time? Lisa, Lisa, I like you so much, but I'll stop liking you if you'll end up being a jerk rather than a Coil's victim "sighs". You can't play like this- deliberate- with people feelings and trust

.

Question was, was I taking this route because it served the greater good? No. Or at least, I wasn't sure enough either way for it to be the reason I was doing this.

Why was I doing it, then?
It had been a hard question to answer hours ago, and it was doubly hard now. Enough that it spooked me. How had I gotten to this point?
I was put in mind of a time I'd sat in on one of my mom's university classes. I couldn't have been older than ten, my dad had been busy and my mom hadn't been able to find a babysitter. So I'd been precocious, proud as hell to be sitting in that English lecture with the teenagers and twenty-somethings and understanding what my mom was saying. We'd even read the book together, over the prior few weeks, so I knew the material. Oranges are not the Only Fruit.

While I'd been sitting and listening, an older man had come in and sat next to me, in the back row. In a kind voice, he'd murmured a comment about how my mother was an excellent professor. Then, a few minutes later, when I got up the courage to raise my hand and answer one of her questions, he'd complimented me, got up and left. All my pride in myself and my mother aside, what had struck me about the encounter was the man's hair. A ridiculous comb-over.
After the class was over and my mom had been taking me home, I mentioned the man, and she'd identified him as the head of her department, her boss. Then I brought up the comb-over and how bad it looked.
"Look at it from his perspective," she'd explained. "Maybe, a long time ago, he started to lose a little hair, but he could brush it to one side in a way that made it not show so much. Every year that passed he brushed his hair over a bit more. It was gradual, something he slowly got used to, seeing it in the mirror every morning and every night. Lots of small steps."
"Why doesn't someone point it out?" I'd asked her.
"He doesn't have anyone to point it out for him," she had replied, "And anyone who knows him well enough doesn't want to hurt his feelings, even if it might be better in the long run."
"You could," I'd told her.
So she had, later that week. Ripped off the band-aid for the old head of the English department. According to her, he'd gotten a haircut, then thanked her at a later date. That event and what my mom had done afterward always stuck in my memory.
I swallowed past a lump in my throat. It always caught me off guard, just how frigging much I missed her, when I thought about her. I'd give anything for a thirty minute conversation with her, right this moment. I didn't have the slightest doubt in my mind that she could have made sense of everything, put things into terms so simple that working it out looked easy.
I had to stop, look up, blink back the tears in my eyes, and take a deep breath before I moved on.

"Nice" start of this chapter. I have fresh tears in my eyes when Taylor started thinking about her wise, smart and caring mother, and remember their little adventures together and how much she misses her "hugs this poor girl". At least you still have your father, try to spend more time with him; I just hope that Coil will never hurt Danny (even if I can see him full capable of doing this) because that would be bad for everyone. Bad for me as a reader, bad for Taylor as an orphaned teenager, bad for Coil because- from that moment- Taylor will dedicate her whole life to get revenge upon this monster, no matter what she'll do in this regard. She loves Danny, despite not being very close to him, and she'll bring hell upon anyone who'll lay a finger to him. I'm completely sure about this

.

Was my situation the same as the old man's? Had I let myself gradually slip into a bad spot, because of my lack of perspective beyond what was going on inside my own head?

I hadn't been thinking about this clearly. I was still confident enough I could send that email, make the call… but before I did that,
I had to get my thoughts in order. Composing the letter in my head wouldn't work, I needed the words on my computer screen in front of me, concrete words in black and white.
I walked around the back of my house and reached into my pocket for my keys. Before I could get them, my dad opened the door.
"Taylor. It's good to see you safe and sound." My dad looked tired, years older than the last time I saw him.
I gave him a brief hug, "Hi, Dad. You got my message, saying I'd be late?"
"I did." He shut and locked the door behind me. "What happened?"
I shrugged as I pulled off my sweatshirt, made sure my pepper spray, phone and keys were all in the pockets, then hung it up by the door. "Nothing big. I was at Brian's, helping him put furniture together, then his sister and his sister's social services caseworker came without any warning. I couldn't find a way to leave without it being kind of awkward." Which did happen, pretty much, just at an earlier time.

"I see," he murmured. "Were you two alone?"
"No," I lied, to stop him from getting the wrong impression. "At least, not for long. Lisa left a few minutes before the caseworker dropped by."
"And you have a new shirt, I see. It's nice."
"Lisa's," I fibbed, squirming a little under the scrutiny.
"Ah," he nodded.
"I'm going to go to my room, if that's alright? I'm kind of wiped."
My dad shook his head, "I'd rather you stayed to talk."
Not what I wanted to do. My mind was jammed with enough crap and internal debates that I didn't want to worry about concocting more lies for my dad.
"Can we do it tomorrow morning?" I offered him, retreating toward the door to the front hall, pressing my hands together in a pleading gesture. "I really need to sit at my computer for a minute and organize my thoughts."
I pushed on the door and it didn't open. Strange. I tried the doorknob, and it didn't help.
"Door's jammed," I said.
"Door's locked, Taylor. So is the door to the living room." My dad answered me. When I looked at him, he showed me the old fashioned key in his hand.
As I watched, he pulled out two chairs from beside the kitchen table, placed one in the middle of the room, then placed the second chair against the back door and sat down in it.
"Sit."
"Dad, tonight's not really-"
"Sit."
My heart dropped out of my chest. Or at least, it felt like it. I felt an ugly sour feeling in my stomach.

More bonding time between Taylor and her dad, but this time Danny is a bit pissed off on his daughter for...its either her secret identity as Skitter (maybe he found out her costume) or her missing classes. I suppose is the last theory because Taylor took great care to hide her Skitter costume. Maybe that black harpy of a principal called him and told him about Taylor's missing classes. Taylor should find a good explanation, but i have a feeling that Danny is not going to trust her again, no matter what she'll tell him.

"I talked to your school today," he informed me, confirming that ugly feeling.

"I'm sorry."

"You've missed nearly a month of classes, Taylor. Three weeks. You've missed major tests, project due dates, homework… they're saying you might fail, if you haven't already."
"I- I'm sorry," I repeated myself.
"I could maybe understand, I know what you've been dealing with, except you didn't just leave me in the dark. You lied to me."
I couldn't form the words for another apology.
"I called the school to get an update on how you were doing, and they said you hadn't been to class in some time, and I didn't know what to do. I just- I felt completely lost. I called your Gram."
I winced. Gram was my mom's mother, an austere woman who'd never fully approved of my dad as a match for her daughter. It wouldn't have been easy for him to make that call.
"She convinced me that maybe I've been too focused on being your ally, and not focused enough on being your parent. If she'd told me that a week ago, I would have hung up on her. But after talking to your school, realizing how badly I failed you-"
"You didn't fail me," I told him. I was caught off guard by how my voice broke a bit with emotion.
"I did. It's clear that whatever we've been doing hasn't been working, if you're in this situation, if you can't talk to me. No more secrets, no more half truths. So we're going to stay here all night if need be. I'll even call off work tomorrow if I have to, but we're going to talk."
I nodded and swallowed, hard. I still hadn't sat down in the chair he'd left in the middle of the kitchen.
"I, um, need to use the washroom."
"Okay," he stood. "I'll walk you there, and I'll walk you back here to the kitchen afterward."
"You're treating me like I'm a prisoner?"
"You're my daughter, Taylor. I love you, but I know there's something going on, and it's not just the bullying, or it's something to do with the bullying that you haven't mentioned yet. I'm scared for you, Taylor, because you're avoiding me and staying silent even if it means failing."

I FULLY AGREE with anything Danny is saying. Taylor, you have to STOP lying your father, tell him everything about your power and your villainous life because I'm sure that he'll understand you and forgive you. He loves you way too much to turn his back to you, no matter what you did. Enough with lies, Danny deserves to know the truth, enough with keeping him in the dark

.

"So you force my hand by making me your prisoner," I replied, letting anger and hurt creep into my voice, "Do you think this is even remotely cool, after all the times I've been cornered by those bitches from school? I've got to come home to this bullying power-abuse shit, too?"

My dad answered me with the utmost patience, "I hope you know that I'm doing this because I love you."
I did. Thing was, that didn't make it even slightly easier to handle.
"Do you need to go to the bathroom, Taylor?"

I shook my head. What I needed was to get out of this room. I saw him purse his lips, knew he was aware I'd just been looking for an escape.
"Talk to me, Taylor."
"Don't feel like talking." I walked across the room to try the other doors, to the living room and basement. Locked.
"Why are you so insistent on escaping?" he asked. I could hear the pain in his voice, which didn't make me feel any better.
"Please, just relax, sit down."
I felt the crackle of my power at the edges of my awareness, realized I was clenching my fists. Why was it that the people I was supposed to be able to rely on were the people who turned on me, cornered me, made me feel the worst? Emma, the school, Armsmaster, now my dad?
I kicked the chair, hard enough that it made a mark as it hit the fridge. My dad's eyes went just a bit wider, but he didn't move or speak. I could feel the tug of my power as bugs throughout my neighborhood began to move to my location. I had to willfully cancel out the order to make them back off and return to their normal behavior.
Not feeling even remotely better after my abuse of the chair, I shoved the cookbooks and printouts off the shelf beside the fridge, letting them spill to the ground. A picture frame that had been hidden in the middle of the pile broke as it hit the ground.
"Damn it," I muttered. I still didn't feel better, and I was having a harder time keeping the swarm at bay.
"Possessions can be replaced, Taylor. Vent however you need to."
"Dad? D-" I had to stop for a few seconds until I felt like I could catch my breath and talk without my voice breaking up, "Do me a favor? Stay quiet for a bit and let me think?"
He gave me a careful look before he answered me. "Okay. I can do that."
With nowhere else to sit, I put my back to the wall under the bookshelf I'd just cleared and let myself sink to the ground, my legs making their protests felt as I brought my legs up against my chest. I folded my arms, resting them atop my knees, and buried my face against them.

God, Taylor, you're so full of anger....You even have a HARD time to keep the Swarm under control, so not to hurt your father. WTF, girl? I like you and I'm by your side, but I don't agree with what you're doing now. Not only you're NO HONEST with him but also your growing aggressiveness worries me quite a lot. I swear...if you dare to hurt your only parent left, you're going to piss me off SOOOOOOOOO MUCH. You have no right to treat your parent like this. I mean, I'm older than you, yet I respect my parents so much that I'll never yell at them or not dare to listen them when they tell me something. I just can't fathom that a 15 years old girl is so disrespectful with her father, this is something that I didn't expected coming from Taylor. And not something good.

I knew it had been 9:24 when I got in. By the time I'd suppressed the bugs, got my power under control and felt safe to raise my head, it was 9:40. My dad still sat in the chair.

I let out a long sigh, quiet, then buried my face in my arms again.
What now?
Come on, Taylor. You've faced down Supervillains in life or death situations. You faced down Armsmaster earlier tonight. Is it that hard to face your own dad?
No. Ten times harder.
But I had to face the problem the same way. Catalogue my options, my tools at hand. Physical violence was out. So was using my power. What did that leave me?
The situation was ultimately the same, I decided. I still had to write that letter to Miss Militia, organize my thoughts. Problem was, now I had an additional thing to deal with. I had to fess up to my dad about what I'd done.
I wasn't sure I could say it. My throat was thick with emotion, and I doubted I could organize my thoughts enough to convince my dad that I'd done everything for the right reasons. I'd open my mouth to tell him, stammer out the basics of it, maybe he'd even look concerned at first. Then as I kept talking, failing to adequately describe what I'd done and why, I could see his face turning to confusion. After that? Disgust, disappointment?
A little part of me died inside at the thought.
I'd write it. I raised my head abruptly, looked to the papers scattered around me. I found a manilla envelope, the kind you put documents inside. Then I found a marker.
Along the top of the envelope, I wrote the words: "I AM A SUPERVILLAIN."
I stared at those words on the brown envelope that rested against my legs. Then I looked up at my dad. He was reading a book, his right ankle resting on his left knee.
I imagined handing him the envelope as-is. Just that one line.
"Fuck." I muttered.
"Did you say something?" my dad looked up from his book and reached over to put it down.
"It's okay. Keep reading," I said, absently, annoyed at the distraction, still pissed at him for cornering me like this.
"Okay," he agreed, but he didn't look at the book for longer than three seconds before glancing up at me again, as if to check on me. I tried to ignore him and focus on the envelope.
What to write? After a second, I began writing below the title I'd put on the envelope.
I like Brian and Lisa. I even like Alec and Rachel. But they're supervillains too. I joined them with the idea that I would get details the Protectorate needed and then betray them.
I raised the marker and frowned.
Why was this so damn hard?

Its HARD because they're your friends, Taylor. You have a crush on Brian, you believe that Lisa is your friend, you're getting close to Rachel. You can't betray people that you spend a good time in their company, even villains. On the other side, you can't betray your father either. Your parent have a heart of gold, he's so understanding and supportive, he won't say "you're not my daughter anymore" if he'll find out that you're a villain parahuman. He'll accept you as you are. Because this is the duty of parents: to be supportive and helpful towards their children, no matter what problems they have. And the duty of children is to listen them and be helpful and supportive when they'll get old

.

I put the cap on and nervously tapped the marker against my knee. Thinking about stuff, trying to gauge my feelings, exploring my thoughts to see what it was that made that knot deep in my gut get tighter.

My dad? Was I too conscious of what he would read, how he would perceive it? Yes. But it had also been hard to write when I'd been mentally writing it for just Miss Militia. That wasn't the whole picture.
Was I scared of arrest? No. Well, I'd seen bureaucracy at work with school, I didn't trust the system, I fully expected to get screwed over somewhere down the line. But that wasn't what was driving my choices. It was something more personal.

The team. Was I worried over how they would take it? Over possibly having them as enemies? Like Coil had said, there was no guarantee any action against them would be wholly successful. Tattletale would probably be able to tell a PRT team was there before they could get in position, and the team wasgood at making an escape in a pinch. Then I'd have one or more enemies after me, who knew everything they needed and had all the tools to make my life a living hell.
Warmer.
It did have to do with those guys, and it slowly dawned on me what it was.
I stood, then walked over to the oven.
"Taylor?" my dad spoke, quiet.
I folded the envelope lengthwise to hide the words, turned on the oven burner, then held the tip of the envelope to the flame until it ignited.
I held the burning envelope over the sink until I was sure my message was obliterated. I dropped the remains of the envelope into the basin and watched it burn up.
I didn't want to send that email to Miss Militia because I liked those guys. That wasn't the big realization. What made me stand up and burn the envelope was the realization that I liked those guys, I was fond of them, I trusted them to have my back…
Yet I'd always held myself at arm's length.
It was stupid, it was selfish, but I really, desperately wanted to see what it would be like to get to know Lisa, without worrying that she would find out my scheme. I'd like to see what it was like to interact with her without having to censor myself out of fear that I'd provide that damning clue. I wanted to get to know Bitch and Alec better. And Brian. I wanted to be closer to Brian. I couldn't phrase it any better than that, because I didn't know if there would be any future with him beyond a simple friendship. I didn't expect there to be. It still mattered.
I'd let myself think that I'd tried a friendship with these guys, that I had grown as a person, so it was okay to go ahead with my plan. But I hadn't. I'd never let myself truly open up and connect with them, and I was realizing just how much I wanted to.
My reasons for going ahead with my plan were thinning out, getting harder to justify. My reputation was probably in shambles, I'd made enemies of everyone that mattered, and I had a number of felonies under my belt. As much as I might try to ignore all that and tell myself I was doing it for the greater good, my conversation with Coil had left me less sure. That wasn't to say I believed him wholeheartedly, or that I thought he'd be as successful as he thought, but I was less sure.

Taylor choose FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC. So, she'll return back to Undersiders, without any undercover shit but poor, poor Danny will remain in dark, without knowing what his daughter is doing behind his back. While I'm happy for Taylor's decision regarding Undersiders, my heart also cries for Danny "hugs him"

.

Damn it, I wanted to hang out more with the Undersiders. Knowing I was out of reasons to justify sticking with the plan, all the crap that would come raining down on my head if I did go ahead with it, how much I'd loathe myself for betraying friends? This little desire for a real, genuine friendship was enough of a nudge in that direction. I could change my mind. I wouldn't be sending any letters to Miss Militia.

I ran the tapwater over the smoking remains of the envelope, watched the remains get washed away. I watched the water running down the drain for a long time after the last scrap of burned paper was gone.

I turned off the tap, stuck my hands in my pockets, and crossed the kitchen to lean back against the door leading to the front hall, glancing briefly at the handle and lock before I leaned against the door with my back to it. I called some bugs from the living room, hallway and heating vents down the front hall and up to the door, into the mechanism of the lock. Could they move the necessary parts?
No such luck. They weren't strong enough to manipulate the door's internal workings, and any bugs that might be strong enough wouldn't fit inside. Go away, I told them, and they did.
Which left me no good way to avoid dealing with my dad. I felt more guilty than ever as I looked across the room at him. He looked so bewildered, so concerned, as he watched me. I didn't have it in me to lie to his face again.
But whatever I did was going to hurt him.
I crossed the room and he stood up, as if unsure as to what I was going to do. I hugged him tight. He hugged me back tighter.
"I love you, dad."
"I love you too."
"I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for. Just- just talk to me, okay?"
I pulled away, and grabbed my sweatshirt from the hook by the door. As I crossed back to the other side of the room, I fished in the pockets and retrieved the phone.
I started typing out a text.
"You have a cell phone," he was very quiet. My mom had died using a cell phone while driving. We'd never talked about it, but I knew he'd thrown his out not long after the accident. Negative connotations. An ugly reminder.
"Yeah," I replied.
"Why?"
"To stay in touch with my friends."
"It-it's just unexpected. I wouldn't have thought."
"It worked out that way." I finished the text, closed the phone and stuck it in the pocket of my jeans.
"New clothes, you're angrier, lying to me, missing school, this cell phone… I feel like I don't know you anymore, little owl," he used my mom's old pet name for me. I flinched a little.

I think she texted Lisa to come and help her run away from home "sighs". At least she didn't hurt her father, but still...if she'll leave the house, this gesture of hers will break his heart. Taylor, what you're doing to your dad is not ok and be sure that I won't forgive you for that. You may be my favorite character and I agreed with you too many times, but this time I can't agree with you anymore. Danny doesn't deserve this shit. He clearly doesn't deserve.

Carefully, I replied, "Maybe that's a good thing. Because I sure didn't like who I was before."

"I did," he murmured.
I looked away.
"Can you at least tell me you're not doing drugs?"
"Not even smoking or drinking."
"Nobody's making you do anything you don't want to do?"
"No."
"Okay," he said.
There was a long pause. The minutes stretched on as if we were both waiting for the other to say something.
"I don't know if you know this," he spoke, "But when your mom was alive, and you were in middle school, the subject of you skipping a grade came up."
"Yeah?"
"You're a smart girl, and we were afraid you were bored in school. We had arguments on the subject. I-I convinced your mom you would be happier in the long run attending high school with your best friend."
I coughed out a laugh. Then I saw the wounded look on his face.
"It's not your fault, dad. You couldn't have known."
"I know, or at least, I have that worked out in my head. Emotionally, I'm not so sure. I can't help but wonder how things would have played out differently if we'd gone ahead with what your mother wanted. You were doing so well, and now you're failing?"
"So I fail, maybe," I said, and I felt a weight lift, admitting it out loud. There would be options. I'd picked up enough that maybe I could still pressure the faculty to let me skip a grade. I would be old enough to take online classes like Brian was.

"No, Taylor. You shouldn't have to. The staff at the school knows your circumstances, we can definitely get some exemptions made, extend deadlines…"
I shrugged. "I don't want to go back, I don't want to beg and plead for help from those assholes in the school faculty, just so I can return to the same position I was in a month ago. Way I see it, the bullying is unavoidable, impossible to control or prevent. It's like a force of nature… a force of human nature. It's easier to handle, if I think about it like that. I can't fight it, can't win, so I'll just focus on dealing with the aftereffects."
"You don't have to give up."
"I'm not giving up!" I raised my voice, angry, surprised at myself for being angry. I took a breath, forced myself to return to a normal volume, "I'm saying there's probably no fucking way I'll understand why she did what she did. So why waste my time and energy dwelling on it? Fuck her, she doesn't deserve the amount of attention I've been paying her. I'm… reprioritizing."
He folded his arms, but his forehead was creased in concern. "And these new priorities of yours are?"
I had to search for a response. "Living my life, making up for lost time."
As if to answer my statement, the back door opened behind my dad. My dad turned, startled.
"Lisa?" He asked, confused.
Lisa revealed the key she'd taken from the fake stone in the back garden, then placed it on the railing of our back steps. Unsmiling, she looked from my dad to me. She met my eyes.

I was right about calling Lisa in her help "sighs and shakes her head". I can't even try to make a joke during this entire review because this chapter make me feel a different range of feelings: ANGER- over Taylor, over the Trio of Bitches who made Taylor the way she's, over this unfair fate who took Taylor's mother so early away from her. Also I feel IMPOTENCE: to help both Taylor change her mind regarding Danny and Danny to be a happy parent by having a good and healthy relationship with his daughter. I feel little HAPPINESS: about Taylor not wanting to be like Emma, but its not enough to fill my soul

.

I shoved my way past my dad, and he grabbed my upper arm before I was clear of the doorway.

"Stay," he ordered me, implored me, squeezing my arm.
I wrenched my arm free, twisting it until he couldn't maintain his grip, and hopped down the back steps, felt my knees ache at the landing. Three or four strides away, I turned back in his direction, but was unable to look him in the eyes.
"I love you, dad. But I need-" What did I need? I couldn't form the thought. "I, uh, I'll be in touch. So you know I'm okay. This isn't permanent, I just… I need a breather. I need to figure all this out."
"Taylor, you can't leave. I'm your parent, and this is your home."
"Is it? It really doesn't feel like that's the case, right now," I answered. "Home's supposed to be a place I feel safe and secure."
"You have to understand, I didn't have any other options. You were avoiding me, not talking, and I can't help you until I get answers."
"I can't give you any answers," I replied, "And you can't help anyways."
He took a step forward, and I quickly stepped back, maintaining the distance between us.
Trying again, he told me, "Come inside. Please. I won't press you any further. I should have realized you weren't in a place where I could."
He took another step toward me, and Lisa took a little step to one side to get in his way, as I backed up again.

"Lisa?" My dad turned his attention to her, looking at her like he'd never seen her before. "You're okay with this?"
Lisa glanced between us again, then carefully said, "Taylor's smart. If she's decided she needs to get away and work stuff out for herself, I trust it's for good reason. There's plenty of room for her at my place. It's not a problem in the slightest."
"She's just a kid."
"She's more capable than you give her credit for, Danny."
I turned to leave, and Lisa hurried to catch up with me, putting an arm around my shoulders as she reached my side.
"Taylor," my dad called out. I hesitated, but didn't turn around. I kept my eyes fixed on the gate of the backyard.
"Please do keep in touch," he said, "You can come home anytime."
"Okay," I replied. I wasn't sure if my voice was loud enough for him to hear.
As Lisa led me to her car, I had to steel myself to keep from looking back.

.....Ok, before I'll end this review, I'm going to say something that I don't feel bad about. First, I apologize to all Taylor and Lisa's fans, including myself but I have to say...FUCK YOU, Taylor, for treating like this your only parent left. And FUCK YOU, Lisa, for helping her to do this shit. Alright, now I feel a littler better. I hope that one day you'll realize how much you need your father, Taylor, you'll miss him and you'll return back to him and apologize for every second when you broke his heart and made him suffer.

Alright, very good chapter about a fucked up relationship between parent- child, but heartbreaking

. Good night and sleep well, my friends and love your parents, if you still have them.

ExNihilo · Apr 1, 2018

Poor Danny. I have mixed opinions on how authority figures are presented in the story, but he is one of them that didn't deserve it.

djd · Apr 1, 2018

Something I should point out- Danny did arguably the worst decision possible. Cornering and forcing someone (particularly a teenager) who is showing pretty much all the symptoms of clinical depression and continuing trauma from the locker pretty much reinforces all of her problems and lets her know that her father cannot be trusted.

edit:
Basically, he should of known that doing this would of set off all of her neurosis (it doesn't take a Tattletale to figure out locking up the girl which was recently trapped in a locker might not end well) but did so anyway b/c he was more interested in his peace of mind than her mental health- which is something he should not of done as a parent.

AmbarGriss · Apr 1, 2018

And here it is... the grimdarkness.

blackarrow · Apr 2, 2018

Hello, fans of Worm and non-fans of Worm. Here we have....another Interlude, showing that is the end of this Arc 6.x (Interlude) | Worm. I wonder what it is about? Coil's Interlude? Danny's Interlude? Lisa's Interlude? I can't think at someone else on the moment but one of these three characters. But before I'll start, I want to clarify something. Everyone knows, already, that Taylor and Lisa are my favorite characters. I love them, I admire them, I respect them, I'm very interested about their evolution in this story. But, if I'll ever have to criticize them, or be angry on them, or even outright HATE some of their actions, then I'll do it. Like I did already during Taylor/Danny conflict, or I'll do for sure if Lisa is not forced in any way by Coil to work for him, but this was her choice, to help a monster like him to become Brockton Bay's dictator. If these girls, my favorite girls are going to commit stupid or mean or downright dangerous (for innocent people) things, then I'll criticize them without caring how much I love them. I'll never say: -wow, you did great, Taylor, good job, if Taylor will start hurting an innocent child, or I'll never say: -Lisa, you're an angel, if she'll start executing people in cold blood at Coil's command. Or emotionally/physically hurting good persons like Danny, Sundancer, Elle, Gregor, etc, because Coil tells her to do it or she feels like. I'll literally punch them with RAGE if I see this as necessary, treating them in the same way I treat any other character who's doing something that I interpret as being bad. Alright, I think I was clear enough

.

Paige's jaw hurt. Being muzzled like an animal did that.

Ooooooooookay. This is a new character. A girl. A muzzled girl. Is she a prisoner? A hostage? A slave? Or...maybe she's an experiment and this Interlude will be about that group of scientists who make experiments on people. Maaaaaaaan, its going to be another depressing read

.

The other restraints weren't so bad, but that was only in a relative sense. Her hands were buried in a pair of reinforced metal buckets, each filled with that damn pastel yellow foam. The buckets themselves were linked together behind her back, with comically oversized chain links. It would have been intolerably heavy if it weren't for the hook on the back of her chair, which she could hang the chain on.

Strips of metal had been tightened just under her armpits, near the bottom of her ribcage, her upper arms and waist, with two more bands around each of her ankles. Chains seemed to connect everything to everything else, preventing her from moving her arms or legs more than a few inches in any direction before she felt the frustrating resistance and jangling of the chains. The heavy metal collar around her neck, thick enough around it could have been a tire for a small vehicle, blinked with a green light just frequently enough that she forgot to anticipate it. She got distracted and annoyed by its appearance in her peripheral vision each time it flashed.

The irony was, a pair of handcuffs would have sufficed. She didn't have enhanced strength, no tricks to slip her restraints, and she wasn't about to run anyways. If any of that was a real possibility, she wouldn't have been allowed in the courtroom. The prosecution had argued that she could have enhanced strength, that she could be a flight risk, and her lawyer hadn't done a good enough job of arguing against it, so the restraints had gone on. Which meant she got trussed up like Hannibal Lecter, as though she were already guilty. Unable to use her hands, her hair, the vibrant and startling yellow of a lemon, had slipped from where it was tucked behind her ears and strands now hung in front of her face. She knew it only made her look more deranged, more dangerous, but there wasn't anything she could do about it.
If she had been able to, she would have had a comment or two to make about that, or at least she could have asked the lawyer to tidy her hair. She would have argued with the man that had been hired as her defense, instead of waiting hours or days for a response to each of her emails. She would have demanded that her basic rights be met.
But she couldn't say anything. A leather mask reinforced with the same metal strips that were on her body and a cage-style grille of small metal bars was strapped over her lower face. The interior of the mask was the worst thing, because the arrangement extended into her mouth, a framework of wires keeping her mouth fixed in a slightly open position, her tongue pressed down hard against the floor of her mouth. The barbaric setup left her jaw, her tongue and the muscles of her neck radiating tension and pain.
"Silence. All rise, please. This court is now in session, the honorable Peter Regan presiding."

Alright, this Interlude barely started and seems already extremely depressing. This poor soul is an culprit during her trial. What the hell she did to be restrained like this? Its like she's a serial murder. Maybe she's a serial murder and I should not feel pity for her, and maybe she have some really fucked up superpowers, that's the reason why they keep her like this. Ok, let's read further to see what exactly she did.

It was so hard to move with the restraints. Her lawyer gripped the chain running between her armpit and her upper arm, to help her get to a standing position, but she stumbled anyways, bumped into the table. There was no way to be graceful when you were wearing restraints that weighed half as much as you did.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?"
"We have, your honor."
Paige watched as the clerk delivered the envelope to the judge.
"In the matter of the state of Massachusetts versus Paige Mcabee, as to the count of attempted murder, how do you find?"
"Not guilty, your honor."
Paige sagged a little with relief.
"In the matter of the state of Massachusetts versus Paige Mcabee, as to the count of aggravated assault with a parahuman ability, how do you find?"
"Guilty, your honor."
Paige shook her head as well as she was able. No! This wasn't fair!
She almost missed the next line. "…sexual assault with a parahuman ability, how do you find?"
"Guilty, your honor."
Sexual assault. The words chilled her. It wasn't like that.
"Is this your verdict?"
"Yes, your honor."
"Paige Mcabee, please direct your attention to me," the judge spoke.
She did, eyes wide, shellshocked.
"Determining sentencing for this case is not easy. As your lawyer has no doubt made you aware, you do fall under the umbrella of the TSPA, or the three strikes act. At the age of twenty three, you have been convicted of no prior crimes.

Sexual assault with her power? What? What she did? Did she forced people to sleep with her? Did she mind controlled them to hold orgies in the middle of the street? This doesn't seem like its the worst of crimes, I expected something really bad seeing how she was restrained. And why she isn't allowed to say something in her defense? Why she's muzzled? Maybe her voice have hypnotic power and everyone who hear her will do what she's asking them to do but still...this sounds like an outrageous VIOLATION OF HUMAN RIGHTS. Also, reminds me of an absolute horrible scene from the TV series The Handmaid's Tale. There, a woman is muzzled and she can't defend herself in court while she's judged for the "crime"

to love another woman (that futuristic fucked patriarchal and religious nuts society portrayed in series is total against women and gay's rights)

and this scene alone depressed me quite a lot. Paige's Interlude just remained me of it

. Great!

"According to the witnesses heard in this court, you first demonstrated your abilities in early 2009. You were vocal about not wanting to become a member of the Protectorate, but you also expressed a disinterest in a life of crime. This state, in which an individual does not identify as hero or villain, is what the PRT classifies as a 'rogue'.

"It is in our interests to promote the existence of rogues, as the proportion of parahumans in our society slowly increases. Many rogues do not cause confrontations, nor do they seek to intervene in them. Instead, the majority of these individuals turn their abilities to practical use. This means less conflict, and this serves the betterment of society. These sentiments mirror those that you expressed to your family and friends, as we heard in this courtroom over the last few weeks.
"Those facts are in your favor. Unfortunately, the rest of the facts are not. Understand, Miss Mcabee, our nation uses incarceration for several reasons. We aim to remove dangerous individuals from the population and we do it punitively, both for justice against transgressors and to give other criminals pause.

"Each of these applies in your case. It is not only the heinous nature of the crime that must be addressed by the sentencing, but the fact that it was performed with a power. Laws are still new in the face of parahuman criminality. We become aware of new powers on a weekly basis, most if not all warranting careful and individual attention in respect to the law. In many of these cases, there is little to no precedent to fall back on. As such, the courts are forced to continually adapt, to be proactive and inventive in the face of new circumstances that parahuman abilities introduce.
"It is with all of this in mind that I consider your sentencing. I must protect the public, not only from you, but from other parahumans that might consider doing as you did. Placing you in standard detention proves problematic and exorbitantly expensive. It would be inhumane and harmful to your body to keep you under restraint for the duration of your incarceration. Special facilities, staff and countermeasures would have to be arranged to keep you in isolation from other inmates. You pose a significant flight risk. Finally, the possibility of you re-entering society, by escape or parole, is particularly concerning, given the possibility of a repeat offense.
"It is with this in mind that I have decided that there is sufficient cause to sentence you outside the scope of the TSPA. Guilty on two counts, the defendant, Paige Mcabee, is sentenced to indefinite incarceration within the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center."
The Birdcage.

Yes, I got that she did something bad, even if is not mass murderers, its still a crime but still....Birdcage? The place that only terrorists like Bakuda and leaders of gangs like Lung and other very dangerous for society lunatics are going...and you want to send this girl there for....sexual assault with her superpower, whatever it is? But, this is a bit too extreme, don't you think, idiots? I understand that you can't place her in standard jail, because she can hypnotize guardians to let her free, but still....Birdcage? Indefinite? She'll die there in less than a day with so many deranged murderers around her, no matter how strong she's, there's always someone stronger that she can't use her power on

. You're going to kill this girl, you damn stupid justice system. Why don't you let her free, but force her to constantly wear an electronic bracelet and never use her power again, and if she'll try to use her power, the bracelet will electrocute here (not enough to kill her, but enough to hurt her and remind her that she's not allowed to use her power anymore). I mean, a parauman can't die if they don't use their powers for the rest of their lives, right? They can live like non-powered humans. That would be miles better than being jailed for the rest of her life in Birdcage. STUPID AND UNFAIR JUSTICE SYSTEM.

The noise in the courtroom was deafening. A roar of cheering and booing, movement, people standing, reporters pushing to be the first ones out the door. Only Paige seemed to be still. Cold, frozen in stark horror.

Had she been able, that might have been the moment she lost it. She would have screamed her innocence, thrown a fit, even swung a few punches. What did she have to lose? This sentence was little better than an execution. Some would say it was worse. There would be no escape, no appeals, no parole. She would spend the rest of her life in the company of monsters. With some of the people that were kept in there, the 'monster' description was all too literal.
But she wasn't able. She was bound and gagged. Two men that were bigger and stronger than her placed their arms under her armpits, practically carrying her out of the courtroom. A third person in uniform, a burly woman, walked briskly beside them, preparing a syringe. Panic gripped her, and with her having no way to express it, do anything with it, the hysteria only compounded itself, making her panic more. Her thoughts dissolved into a chaotic haze.

Even before the syringe of tranquilizers was jammed into her neck, Paige Mcabee fainted.
■
Paige woke up and enjoyed five seconds of peace before she remembered everything that had happened. Reality hit her like a splash of cold water in the face, somewhat literally. She opened her eyes, but found them dry, the world too bright to focus on. The rest of her was damp, wet. Beads of water trickled down her face.
She tried to move, and couldn't. It was as though something heavy had been piled on top of her. The paralysis terrified her. Paige had never been able to stand being unable to move. When she had gone camping as a kid, she had preferred to leave her sleeping bag unzipped and be cold rather than be confined inside it.
It was that foam, she realized. The restraints weren't enough, they'd sprayed her with the stuff to ensure that everything below her shoulders was covered. It gave a little to allow her to exhale, she could even shift her arms and legs a fraction, lean in any given direction. The harder she pushed, however, the more resistance there was. The second she relaxed her efforts, everything sprung back to the same position with the foam's rubbery pull. She felt nausea well in her gut, her heartbeat quickening. Her breathing increased, but the mask made even her breath feel confined. The water made her mask damp, so it clung to her mouth and nose. There were slits for her nostrils and mouth, but it was so little. She could not take a deep breath without drawing water into her mouth, and with her tongue depressed, she could not swallow easily.
The room lurched, and she had to stop herself before she lost her breakfast. Puking with the mask on, she might choke. Dimly, she realized where she was. A vehicle. A truck. It had passed over a pothole.
She knew where it was taking her. But if she couldn't get free, she was going to lose her mind before she got there.
"The little bird's awake," a girl spoke, with a hint of a nasal Boston accent.
"Mmm." A man grunted.

I don't agree with your crime, Paige, but I don't agree with the way you're treated by authorities either. Well, if you were someone like Lung, then I'd have agreed with them even if they'd have executed you. Because people like Lung are a DANGER to society. But this girl? "sighs" Its like a random thief is jailed in the same prison with the worst criminals ever, including serial killers, cannibals, terrorists with dozens of victims. Not very fair.

Paige knew the 'bird' reference was due to the stray feathers that stuck out of her scalp. Her powers had come with some extremely minor cosmetic changes, turning her hair the bright yellow of a banana or baby duck. It affected all the hair on her body, even her eyelashes, eyebrows, the fine hairs on her arms. The feathers had started growing in a year ago, the exact same shade as her hair, only a handful at a time. At first, alarmed and embarassed, she'd clipped them off. Once she'd realized that no further changes were occurring, she'd relaxed and let them grow in, even showed them off.

Paige turned her attention to the two people in the vehicle with her, glad for the distraction from her burgeoning panic. She had to force her eyes to stay open, painful as the light was, wait for her eyes to focus. Sitting on the bench beside her was a girl about her own age. The girl had an Asian cast to her features. Her eyes, though, were a very pale blue, betraying some Western heritage. The girl wore the same orange jumpsuit as Paige, and every part of her except her shoulders and head were covered in the yellow-white foam. Her straight black hair was plastered to her scalp by the wet.
The man sat on the other bench. There was more foam around him than there was around Paige and the other girl combined. Topping it off, a cage of metal bars surrounded the foam, reinforcing the setup. The man was Asian as well, no less than six feet tall. Tattoos swept up the sides of his neck and behind his ears, into the midst of his wet black hair; Red and green flames, and the head of what could have been a lizard or dragon, drawn in an Eastern style. He was glowering, his eyes hidden in shadows, oblivious to the endless spray of mist that sprinklers in the truck's roof were generating.

Paige surely was an experiment. She even have abnormal features like a very yellow natural hair and feathers (Gregor and Newter also look pretty different from how a normal human should look, let's say this on a more polite tone because I don't want to offend those beautiful people). Maybe she can even sing and her songs are hypnotic, mind-controlling everyone who hear them. That's the reason why those stupid authorities believed that she can fly. Because of her bird theme. This little bird girl is going to Birdcage. Irony at its finest

. And if it wasn't bad enough, she's accompanied by Bakuda and Lung, ones of those parahumans who precisely deserve TO DIE. Paige, your day is getting worse and worse....

"Hey, little birdy," the girl sitting across from Paige spoke. She was staring at Paige as if those cold eyes of hers could look right through her. "Here's what we're going to do. You lean to your right as hard as you can, then shove yourself left on my signal. But you keep facing the back door there, alright?"

Paige glanced to her right. The back door of the truck looked like a vault door. She quickly glanced back at the Asian girl. Did she really want to turn her back to this person?
The girl seemed to note Paige's hesitation. She lowered her voice to a hiss that made Paige's skin crawl. "Do it. Unless you really want to gamble on the chance that I'd be able to find you in the prison, if you don't do as I say?"
Paige's eyes widened. This was the sort of person she was going to be locked up with. She shook her head.
"Good, little birdy. Now lean to your right, look at the door."

Paige did, straining her body to move as close to the door as she could.
"And back!"
She heaved herself the other way, eyes still on the door. Something heavy cracked against the back of her head. She tried to pull away, sit upright again, but was stopped as the mask caught on something.
When she felt hot breath on the back of her neck, she knew what she'd caught on. The other girl had gripped the strap of the mask in her teeth. There was a tug, then the girl lost her grip, and the two of them were pulled back to their individual positions by the rubbery foam.
"Shit," the girl growled, "Again."
It took two more attempts. On the first, the strap came free of the buckle. On the second, the girl gripped the mask itself and pulled. Paige turned her head in the girl's direction so the pacifier-cage on the inside of her mouth could be pulled free.
Tendrils of drool extended down from her mouth as she worked her jaw and tongue, trying to swallow properly. She let out a little whimper as sensation returned to the parts of her face that had gone numb.
"Two qweshionsh," the Asian girl mumbled, her teeth still gripping the mask's leather between them, "Youh poweh?"
Paige had to work her jaw and mouth a second before she could speak, "My power? I sing. Really well."

Not surprising, Bakuda wants to escape and she's forcing Paige to help her. God, I so WANT Paige to be the one who'll escape and Bakuda and Lung to end up in Birdcage FOR ETERNITY. Also, it looks like Paige can sing for real. So, mind controlling songs. What did you told to people in your songs, Paige? To fuck themselves? Or each others?

The Asian girl frowned, "Whaf elth?"

"I… it makes people feel good. When I get going, I can affect them, alter their emotions, make them susceptible to following instructions."
The girl nodded, "Teh collah?"
Paige looked down at the heavy metal collar around her neck, "It's set up to inject tranquilizers into my neck if I sing or raise my voice."
"Okah," the girl mumbled, "Take teh mahc."
"Why?"
"Take ih!"
Paige nodded. They leaned away from each other, then swung together, the girl passing the mask to her. She clenched it in her teeth, feeling her jaw ache.
"Drop that and I'll turn you inside out," the girl spoke, "Lung. Hey, Lung? Wake up."

The man sitting opposite them raised his head a fraction, opened his eyes. Maybe. Paige couldn't quite tell.
"I know it's hard with the stuff they pumped into you, but I need your power. Birdy, lean forward, show him the mask."
Paige did her best to push herself forward against the foam that was layered against her chest and stomach, gripping the strap in her teeth, the mask dangling below her chin.
"I need you to heat the metal, Lung," the girl spoke. "Get it fucking hot."
Lung shook his head. When he spoke, there was no Boston accent in his voice. The accent that was there made his words clipped, clearly not the voice of a native English speaker. "The water. Is too wet, too cold. And I cannot see it well. My eyes have not healed entirely, and it is hard to see through this spray. Do not bother me with this."
"Try, you miserable fucker. Failure of a leader. It's the least you can do, after getting your ass kicked by a little girl, twice."
"Enough, Bakuda." he growled. He slammed his head back against the metal of the truck's wall behind him, as if to punctuate his statement.

Bakuda, if you don't stop insulting your boss, he'll kill you in the first second you'll step in Birdcage

. He did whatever he could against Skitter. But one can't NEVER stop the Destroyer of Dicks, Toes and Eyes, no matter what. After all, you didn't stop her either, Bakuda, before she cut off your toes

. Shut up and try to build that bomb (I suppose she's building a bomb) without pissing people around.

"What? I couldn't hear that," the girl, Bakuda, grinned with a hint of mania to her expression, "Your voice is too fucking high pitched for my range of hearing! You pathetic… halfbreed… eunuch!"

"Enough!" he roared, again slamming his head against the wall of the truck. "I will kill you, Bakuda, for these insults! I will tear your arm from your socket and I will shove it-"
"Pissed off?!" she interrupted him, practically screeching, "Good! Use it! Heat the motherfucking metal. The metal strip around the edges!"
Still panting with the exertion of shouting, Lung turned his attention to the mask. Paige winced at the blast of heat against her face, started to pull away, but stopped as Bakuda spoke.
"Focus it!" Bakuda shouted, "Focus on the edges!"
The radiation of heat ceased, but Paige became aware of a stringent, smoky smell.
"Hotter! As hot as you can get it!"
The smell was too strong, too acrid. Paige coughed a few times, hard, but she didn't lose her grip on the mask.
"Now, birdy! Same maneuver as before, but don't let go!"
Paige nodded. She leaned away, then swung in Bakuda's direction. What followed surprised her more than when Bakuda had bitten into the strap of the mask.
The Asian girl set about savaging the red hot metal with her teeth, digging into it even as they had to pull away. Softer with the heat, the thin metal strip pulled free of the mask itself. The metal that ran along the strap cut Paige's lip as it came off. She almost -almost- dropped the mask, but managed to snap her teeth to catch the buckle in her teeth before it could fall to the floor.
As the strip came free, Bakuda pulled back and jerked her head to one side, hard, impaling herself in the shoulder with one end of it. She screamed, and blood ran from one of the burns on her mouth.
Paige looked at Lung. The huge man did nothing, remaining silent. He only watched dispassionately as Bakuda's chest heaved with the exertion and pain, her head hanging down.
"What the hell are you doing?" Paige breathed.
"No hands, have to make do," Bakuda panted, "Again. Before my body realizes how badly I'm hurting it."

Paige nodded. She wasn't about to argue with the supervillain that was threatening to turn her inside out.
The ensuing attempts weren't any prettier or easier. The second long metal strip was freed and Bakuda impaled that one in her shoulder as well. The metal grilles from the exterior and interior parts of the mask were next to be pulled free. Paige was left holding only the leather portion of the mask, the straps and the covering that had gone over her mouth and nose. Seeing Bakuda gingerly balance the metal grilles on her free shoulder, against the tacky foam so they wouldn't slip down, Paige did the same with the leather of the mask.
"What did you do to get sent here?" Paige asked.
"Last I heard, before we lost power to our neighborhood, the body count was almost at fifty."
"You killed fifty people?"
Bakuda grinned, and it wasn't pretty, with her lips as ravaged as they were. "Injured more, too. And there were those who got brain damage, one or two might've gone homicidally insane, and I know a bunch got frozen in time for a hundred years or so… it gets blurry. Crowning moment was the bomb."
"Bomb?" Paige asked, eyes widening.
"Bomb. They said it was as powerful as an atom bomb. Idiots. They didn't even understand the technology behind it. Philistines. Sure, it was about that powerful, but that wasn't even the real damage. Amazing thing would've been the electromagnetic wave it generated. Wipe every hard drive, fry every circuit board for every piece of machinery over a full fifth of America. The effects of that? Would've been worse than any atom bomb."

OMG, Bakuda, you're the most CRAZY and DEMENTED character in Worm so far. First, you're insulting your boss despite the fact that he might kill you if you'll fail to escape, you're making a bomb while mutilating yourself, and you're so proud because you destroyed so many lives and you're so close to fuck up an entire country. Well, be proud, you're making a good competition to your male counterpart, Joker (for everyone interested why, read the comics and you'll see why. Comics Joker is a murderous sadistic beast compared to the more toned down TV versions. Also, he have a lot of charisma. Its that kind of character that you LOVE to HATE).

Unable to even wrap her mind around that, Paige glanced at Lung. "And him?"

"Lung? He's the one who told me to do it. Man in charge, he is."
Lung's head moved fractionally, but with the shadows under his brow, Paige couldn't tell if he was watching.
"You?" Bakuda asked Paige. "What'd you do to get sent here?"
"I told my ex to go fuck himself."

Oh, this is what you did, Paige? You told your ex to go fuck himself? Alright...but how he did that? Did he cut off his dick and fucked himself with it? I can't think at something else, honestly

.

There was a pause, then Bakuda started cackling. "What?"

"It's complicated," Paige looked away and down.
"You gotta explain, birdy."
"My name's Paige. My stage name was Canary."
"Ooooh," Bakuda spoke, still cackling a little as she gripped one of the metal strips that was spearing her shoulder and pulled it free. Holding it in her teeth, she spoke, "That'sh no good. You calling yourshelf Canary in prishon?"
"I didn't intend on going to prison."
"Who doesh?"
"I mean, I'm not even a supervillain. My power, it makes me a fantastic singer. I was making a lot of money doing it, there was talk of record deals, we were moving to larger venues and my shows were still selling out… everything was perfect."
Bakuda let the strip swing from her teeth until it dangled, then carefully maneuvered it until she was gripping the far left side of it. She leaned back, her head facing the ceiling, as she slid the other metal strip, the one impaled in her shoulder, into her mouth as well, so she was holding one end of each strip in her mouth. Pausing, she asked, "Whaf haffen?"
Paige shook her head. It was the testimony she'd never been able to speak out loud, at her trial. "I'd just finished my biggest show yet. Two hours on stage, a huge hit, crowd loved it all. I wrapped up and went backstage to rest, get a drink, and ran into my ex. He told me that since he was the one who pushed me to get out on stage in the first place, he deserved credit. Wanted half the money." She laughed a little, "Ridiculous. Like I'm supposed to ignore the fact that he cheated on me and told me I was never going to make it for real when he left."
Bakuda nodded. She pulled away from the strips, where she'd managed to tie them in the semblance of a knot. She used her teeth to bend the now-joined strips into an L-shape. With the end that wasn't impaled in her shoulder now in a position in front of her, she closed her mouth on it.
"We argued. Then I told him to go fuck himself. He left, and I didn't give it a second thought… until the police showed up at my door."

Bakuda pulled her mouth away from the end of the strip. She'd bent it into a loose 'v' shape. She frowned at it, then glanced at Paige, "And?"
"And he'd done it. I- I guess I was still amped up from my performance, and my power's effects were still empowering my voice, or he was in the audience and was pretty heavily affected. So when I told him to go fuck himself, he, um, he did. Or he tried, and when he found it wasn't physically possible, he hurt himself until…" Paige closed her eyes for a moment. "Um. I won't go into the details."

So, he cut off his dick and fucked himself with it. As expected. Don't care, he was a jerk anyway. Less reasons for Paige alias Canary to deserve this shit. Poor girl "hugs her" Now I feel more pity for her than I felt before knowing what she really did.

"Mmmm, shucks to be im. Oo 'oo" Bakuda raised her eyebrows, still working the metal strip inside her mouth. She pulled away, verified the end as being in a rough 'o' shape, and then gripped the strips in her teeth to pull the entire thing out of her shoulder with a grunt. She placed the end she'd just reworked against the bench and slid her mouth down the length of the metal, so she could get a grip on the other end.

Taking hold of it in her teeth, she turned her attention to the wall of the truck between herself and Paige. There were locks placed at regular intervals against the wall, meant to secure the chain of standard handcuffs in place, for those not doused in foam. She began feeding the metal strap through the loop of the lock. Beads of sweat mingled with the water running down her face as she worked.
The knot joining the two straps jammed in the hole. Bakuda pushed a little harder, and wedged it firmly in place. The L-bend in the metal placed the closed 'o'-shaped loop of metal close to Paige's shoulder.
"Any bets on Oni showing up?" Bakuda asked Lung.
"I would be surprised," he rumbled his response.
She gripped one of the metal grilles in her mouth and began working at it with her teeth. It was all one thin piece of metal, bent and woven like chain link fencing, albeit a tighter mesh. Now that it was no longer held securely in place by the metal strips, Bakuda was free to start unwinding and straightening it.
When it was almost completely unwound, she adjusted her bite on it and clenched the second mass of wire, the one that had been in Paige's mouth, in her jaws, bunching it together into a cylindrical mess about four inches long and one inch across. Still biting it, she turned her head so the mostly straight four-foot length of wire was pointing at Lung, not two feet away from his face. Her mouth still around the tangle of wire, she mumbled, "Need end hot."

Lung growled, but he did as he was asked. When the end was white hot, Bakuda quickly adjusted her grip, letting go and biting again until the tip was near her mouth. Lips pulled back, she bit down on it.
"How can you do that?" Paige asked, "Doesn't it hurt?"
"No uffing hit ih urhs," Bakuda growled. She pulled away, set it so the handle was against the bench, the length of wire against her shoulder, and examined her handiwork. "But tooth enamel is tougher than you'd think." She spat a measure of blood out onto the floor of the truck, then bit down twice more, pausing between bites to turn the length of metal with her teeth, lips and tongue.
When she extended the length of wire in Paige's direction, sliding it through the 'o' shaped end of the metal strip, Paige realized what Bakuda had spent this much time setting up. She didn't even need to be asked to bend down against the foam restraints and crane her neck to one side, to put her collar in reach of the overlong makeshift screwdriver. The metal strip with the loop in the end served to hold the portion closest to Paige up, so Bakuda could direct it more easily.
It wasn't fast work. Bakuda had to use her teeth, jaw and a turning of her head to rotate the screwdriver, and it was a chore to get it back in position if she lost her grip on it. Ten long minutes of silence and grunting were broken only by the sound of two screws dropping to the metal bench, before Bakuda stopped to take a rest and ease her jaw.
"You won't be able to do anything to my collar without setting it off," Paige spoke.
"Dumb bitch," Bakuda muttered, sticking out her lower lip and peering down as if she could investigate the degree of damage to her own lips. "I'm a bomb expert. I understand triggers and catalysts on the same fundamental level you understand walking and breathing. I can visualize mechanical things in a way you couldn't with five college degrees and a hundred years. Insult me like that again and I'll end you."

Have to admit, super-crazy Bakuda is also super-badass. She made a bomb using only the few things she had at her disposition, Lung's power and Paige's help. Also, she injured her own body too. She have the BALLS that not even Lung ever had

. She might escape along with her boss. The only good news about is that Paige will also escape. But I'm afraid that she might be forced to become a villain, Bakuda is not the kind of person who'll let this girl with such a strong power to walk away like nothing happened.

As if pushed to prove herself, she gripped the screwdriver in her teeth again, and set to work again. A panel was pried off, and the unscrewing was resumed, deeper in the collar.

Paige hesitated to talk again, knowing how easy the girl was to provoke, but the silence was crushing. "I guess it's a good thing this is a long drive, from Boston to British Columbia."
"You were asleep a while," Bakuda pulled away from the screwdriver, talking softly, as if to herself. "Not as long as you think."
Paige felt something come free from the heavy collar around her neck, saw Bakuda tilt the screwdriver upward, sliding a glass tube with something glowing inside down the length of the metal bar After another few minutes, another piece of machinery joined the glass tube, as though it were a high-tech shish-kabob.
"Tragic," Bakuda spoke, on her next rest. "This is beautiful work. Not the actual assembly, that's crap. It's obvious the tinker that designed this intended it to be put together by regular schmoes. Wouldn't have screws and shit, otherwise. But the way it's designed, the way everything fits together… makes a scientist proud. Hate to butcher it."
Paige nodded. She didn't know enough about that sort of thing to risk commenting. As scary as this situation was, as curious as she was, she felt the lingering effect of tranquilizer in her system, an impending boredom.
She closed her eyes.
It didn't feel like her eyes were closed for more than a minute before she was woken by a shout of "Birdy!" Paige jolted awake, turned to Bakuda, and saw the work was done. Bakuda hadn't just disabled the collar, but had assembled components into a roughly sphere-shaped setup of metal and wires. It dangled from the remains of the mask and strap, which Bakuda held in her teeth.

Lung spoke, his voice low, slightly accented, "We have stopped. Her device will buy us time, and you will use it to sing. The bomb will not do much damage, but it will slow them and dose anyone hit with a small amount of sedatives. This will make it easier for you to control them, Bakuda says. You will then get them to free us."
Paige's eyes went wide. She nodded.
There was a loud sound outside the truck, and Bakuda started swinging the device left and right like a pendulum. The metal doors at the back of the truck slammed open, and Bakuda let go. The device rolled out the door.
Paige sang, not stopping as the device detonated, rocking the truck. Her song was wordless. She was her own accompaniment, using the acoustics of the truck's interior to generate echoes. She charged her voice with her power, willing those who heard it to obey, to submit in a way she'd never done before.
It might have worked, if there was anyone around to hear it.
A giant metal claw entered the back of the truck, closed around Lung, and dragged him out. When the claw returned to claim her, she stopped singing, started shrieking instead.
"No!" Bakuda's screams joined her own, behind her, "Fuck you! No! No! I had a fucking plan!"

I like how Bakuda, as a tinker, is able to admire other tinkers' work, even if they're her foes. Impressive, because I just can't see Armsmaster appreciating a work that is not his. Take example from Bakuda, Arms

! And....they're captured. By a giant metal claw. I'm both enjoying (HA, your big plan failed, Bakuda, what are you saying now? Your boss will kill you for your insults and your inefficiency) but I also feel bad (a pretty Canary will waste her life in Birdcage if is not killed in her first moments there).

The arms moved along slats in the ceiling, carrying them through what looked like a massive underground bunker. Everything was concrete, and the room was so vast that Paige could not even see any of the walls. There was only the ceiling twenty or thirty feet above them and the floor, extending endlessly around them, lit by florescent lights at regular intervals. The only thing breaking up the empty expanse was the armored truck bearing the PRT identification on the side and a black square attached to the ceiling, further down.

The arms arranged them in front of the black square – an oversized monitor. A face, clearly a CGI rendering intended to mask the real identity of the speaker, appeared on the screen. When the voice came from the speakers, the filter intended to disguise the woman's voice didn't quite hide her strong accent. Paige tried to place it. Not Southerner, not Cockney, but maybe similar? She'd heard someone with that accent before.

"Prisoner 599, codename Lung. PRT powers designation Brute 4-9 asterisk, Blaster 2-6 asterisk, fire and heat only. Individuals reading or viewing this log are directed to see page three and four of prisoner's file for particulars on powers. Recommended protocols were properly carried out with sprinkler system and added restraints. Chance of escape following interment in the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center rests at a fairly steady .000041% with no gross deviations in any likely scenarios. Within acceptable limits. Will be processed to cell block W."
"You're Dragon," Bakuda spoke, eyes widening, "No shit. Best tinker in the fucking world. I'd say I'm a fan, but I'd be lying."
Paige couldn't help but react to that as well. Dragon had designed the Birdcage and much of the gear the PRT used, including the containment foam. She was head and shoulders above any of the other tinkers that went out in power armor. Dragon sported a wildly different suit each time she deployed. Her stuff was so advanced that a group of criminals who had gotten away with stealing a damaged suit of her armor were now using that same technology to operate as top of the line mercenaries – the Dragonslayers.

They're transported straight to Birdcage. So, Lung is a Brute and a Blaster, he have super-strength and blast people with fire. Also, the numbers mean that he might be a very strong Brute and a strong Blaster. I'm getting to finally know THE BEST TINKER IN THE WORLD (funny how Bakuda is fangirling over Dragon, despite being captured by her and jailed in her jail!!!) . Hi, Dragon, nice to meet you, even if is not exactly in person. So, the Dragonslayers are not planning to kill Dragon, but they're stealing her technology. They must be very good hackers to steal from the best tinker.

Dragon was also Canadian, which was the detail Paige needed to peg her accent as that of a Newfoundlander. Not an accent one heard very often, these days.

"Prisoner 600, codename Bakuda. PRT powers designation Tinker 6 with bomb speciality. Recommended protocols were not properly carried out." The formal tone of the voice dropped away as she muttered, "I hate to get someone fired, but I'm going to have to report this. Supposed to be in an S-class containment truck and placed no less than six feet from other prisoners… well, at least nothing came of it."
"Fuck you, Dragon," Bakuda snarled.
"…Chance of escape from the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center is .000126% with potential gross deviation in the event of introduction of contraband material or a matter producer. With monitoring this chance drops to .000061%. Will be processed to cell block C."

"Prisoner 601, codename Canary. PRT powers designation Master 8. Recommended protocols were properly carried out, with provided restraints and no human personnel being brought within three hundred yards of said individual's position. Hi Canary."
Paige blinked a few times in surprise, "Hi?"
"I followed your trial. I thought it was a damn shame things went like they did. I get that it was a reckless accident, but you don't deserve to be here. I even wrote a letter to your judge, the DA and your governor saying as much. I'm sorry it wasn't enough."
The sympathy hit Paige hard. It was all she could do to stop herself from bursting into tears.
"I'm afraid I've got to do my job, and that means carrying out my role in enforcing the law. You understand? Whatever my feelings, I can't let you go."
"I- Yes."
"Listen, I'm sticking you in cell block E. The woman that put herself in charge of that cell block goes by the codename Lustrum.
She's a pretty extreme feminist and misandrist, but she protects the girls in her block, and it's also the block furthest from the hole the men opened into the women's half of the Birdcage. If you're willing to play along, buy in or pretend to buy into her way of thinking, I think she'll keep you safest."
Paige didn't have words to reply. She just nodded.
"Ok. Prisoner 601's Chance of escape from the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center is .000025% with no gross deviations. Do you three understand why I'm telling you this?"
"Our chances of escaping are pretty slim," Bakuda spoke.

Bakuda is a Tinker 6, pretty powerful and dangerous since Dragon is so pissed because protocols were not being properly respected in her case. Paige is Master 8, so Masters can mind control others using their voice, probably their eyes, their body's language....They're basically like puppeteers. I think Alec is also a Master (since he can control people's movements to a certain limit) but a weak one. I think either 4 or 5, or maybe even lower.

ALRIGHT, PEOPLE, SINCE THIS INTERLUDE IS TOO LONG AND NOW ITS PRETTY LATE, I'LL CONTINUE IT TOMORROW, TALKING MORE ABOUT PAIGE AND DRAGON AND WHAT I THINK ABOUT BIRDCAGE, SO FAR. SORRY ABOUT THIS.
Have a great night and sleep well.

ExNihilo · Apr 2, 2018

Poor Paige, victim of the 'All Masters Are Evil' propoganda campaign.

And it's a minor point, but technically PRT rankings have to do with how difficult they are to fight, not how powerful they are. Usually equivalent, but still. 6 is pretty high, but there's a reference table, I'll see if I can find it, that details the PRT's standard responses.

EDIT: Source has spoilers, but could copy-paste the relevant info if you wanted.

blackarrow · Apr 3, 2018

Hi, patient and understanding people. I'm up and ready for the continuation of 6.x (Interlude) | Worm review. Thank you for being so nice to wait for me to finish this loooooooooooooong Interlude. Seriously, it is just my impression or the chapters are getting longer and longer? Wildbow, what the hell?? YOU'RE TEARING ME APART, WILDBOW! But, first, before I'll start, I'm going to do something: "holds up a placard"

:mob:

FREE CANARY! :mob:

"I followed your trial. I thought it was a damn shame things went like they did. I get that it was a reckless accident, but you don't deserve to be here. I even wrote a letter to your judge, the DA and your governor saying as much. I'm sorry it wasn't enough."
The sympathy hit Paige hard. It was all she could do to stop herself from bursting into tears.
"I'm afraid I've got to do my job, and that means carrying out my role in enforcing the law. You understand? Whatever my feelings, I can't let you go."
"I- Yes."
"Listen, I'm sticking you in cell block E. The woman that put herself in charge of that cell block goes by the codename Lustrum.
She's a pretty extreme feminist and misandrist, but she protects the girls in her block, and it's also the block furthest from the hole the men opened into the women's half of the Birdcage. If you're willing to play along, buy in or pretend to buy into her way of thinking, I think she'll keep you safest."
Paige didn't have words to reply. She just nodded.
"Ok. Prisoner 601's Chance of escape from the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center is .000025% with no gross deviations. Do you three understand why I'm telling you this?"

Awww, Dragon is so nice. She knows that Paige don't deserve this kind of punishment and she did what she could to convince the non-powered IDIOTS to change their mind about her but they're completely heartless. Dragon is a very level headed and sympathetic tinker, now I understand why people like her so much. She's also canadian (I personally like canadians as people

) and the Birdcage is located in Canada. At least she's doing something lovely for Paige, putting her in the same cell block ruled by a woman who hates men and is very protective towards women. Lustrum (her codename doesn't tell me absolute anything about her power, so far this is the only codename that I can't associate with any possible power

) could become Skitter's NUMBER ONE FAN if she'll ever hear about how she wrecked Lung and Velocity's dicks. And I'm sure that she'll instantly like Paige: a good and peaceful girl+ she told (literally) a man to fuck himself. From this point of view alone, Paige is lucky. Thank you, Dragon. I also noticed that this story seems to become a bit similar with X-Men when it comes to hate against powered people. Already rogues are not very tolerated because even if they commit accidents, they're still treated like ferocious criminals. I won't be surprised if later in the story, all parahumans will become rejected by society, even if they're heroes (with "heroes" like Armsmaster and Shadow Bitch Stalker, this is a great possibility). Why people can't live in peace with each other, no matter their differences?

"Our chances of escaping are pretty slim," Bakuda spoke.
"Yes. The Baumann Detention Center is a structure so complex I had to design an artificial intelligence to put it together. It's situated inside of a hollowed out mountain, the walls of which are lined with layers of a ceramic of my own design, each such layer separated by volumes of dormant containment foam. If you punched a hole in the outside of the mountain, you'd only wind up with more foam than you knew how to handle.
"That's the mountain. The prison itself is nicknamed the Birdcage because it is suspended in the center of the empty mountain, hanging only by the same network of tubes that supplies prisoners and food to the cell blocks. Both the interior of the tubes and the interior of the mountain itself are vacuums. Even if an individual were to have powers allowing them to navigate the vacuum, I have three thousand antigrav drones in position at any given time, laying dormant in that lightless void, waiting for any signal, motion, energy or air leakage to awaken them. Once awakened, a drone will move to the location of said anomaly and detonate. Many of my drones contain a loadout of containment foam, but others contain payloads designed to counteract various methods one could theoretically use to traverse the vacuum. Some are quite lethal."
"These are not the only measures I have taken, but it wouldn't do to inform you of everything I have done to secure this facility. Know only that your chance of successful escape is negligible, and the chance of you dying or being maimed for attempting it is much higher."

"Know that while I do retain control over the structure and the ability to observe those within, enabling me to respond to emergencies such as natural disasters, you will not be able to manipulate this to your advantage. I will not,cannot intervene should a hostage be taken, or if an individual should threaten or perform damage to vital or luxury resources. There was no other way to run the prison effectively than to have you police and protect yourselves. I stress: nothing you do can convince me to free you. The elevators to the Baumann Detention Center go one way. Down."
"I will be depositing you in the elevators now. You will be provided with a limited measure of oxygen, sufficient only to carry you safely to the bottom. Should you slow or stop the lift, or attempt to scale the interior of the tube, I expect you will likely fall unconscious, suffer brain damage or die for your trouble. A counteragent for the containment foam will be applied as you descend, so that you are free before you reach the bottom."
Lung and Bakuda were carried off in different directionis. Paige was the last to be carried away by the robotic arms.
"I am sorry, Paige Mcabee," Dragon's tinny voice sounded, as the arm set her down. "Good luck."
The ground beneath her shifted, and then she descended.

Dragon is a GENIUS for building such awesome super-jail inside a hollow mountain, filled with vacuums and foam. But she's also a sweetheart for trying so hard to help Paige and caring about her fate. Now, I wonder what if someone have the power to instantly teleport in any place on the earth. For example, a parahuman can teleport to Paris or London or Egypt. How in the hell this mountain, even" filled" with vacuum, can stop them from teleporting anywhere outside the jail and the mountain? What if someone is invincible, being able to navigate the vacuum also can't be defeated by any drone, even the lethal ones? What is someone have reality warping powers, someone like Scarlet Witch, Mad Jim Jaspers, Franklin Richards or mr. Mxyzptlk (yep, I can type his name

) and can simply decide that they want the Birdcage to stop existing? What this jail would do to someone like Magneto, who can manipulate magnetic fields like they're nothing? What about Endbringers, able to turn into fantastical monsters? But maybe those kind of parahumans weren't captured yet otherwise either they'd have escaped so far or Birdcage would have been history. There are some powers that can't just be constrained by any means, maybe only by lobotomy or a power-suppressor. No super-jail is secure 100% and I have a feeling that I'll get to see a GREAT PRISON BREAK from Birdcage soon or later in the story.

Lung walked with confidence to the 'hole', a word with double meaning, as it referred to the actual hole in the wall, as well as the more vulgar term for why many in the men's half of the Birdcage went there – it was the sole route into the women's prison.
A group of women were on guard on the other side of the hole, standing or sitting at various vantage points there.
"Who're you?" one of the women asked him. She was a striking woman with coffee colored skin and a mouthful of teeth that looked like knife blades.
"I am Lung."
"You're new?"
"Yes."
"Which cell block are you in?" this question came from a heavyset woman that looked more like a middle aged soccer mom than a prisoner. Lung noted, however, how each of the other girls that were on guard turned to listen when she spoke.
"W, ma'am," he spoke, taking extra care to not offend.
"You want a girl?"
"I am here only to visit one of my subordinates. Cell block C."

"Even if you aren't buying, can't let you through for free. Gotta pay something. Marquis runs your cell block, still? Divvies up the cancer sticks from his food crates fairly enough?"
"Yes." Lung reached into his pocket and retrieved a half-carton of cigarettes. He handed them over.
"Good boy. Listen, Glaistig Uaine runs the cell block you're going to. You keep some of these sticks, you give them to her, so as not to insult her."
"I will. Thank you for this advice."
"I do like a polite boy. You run along, now."
He bowed his head in respect, then walked briskly to the next cell block. A smaller contingent of guards awaited him there, and he handed over the remaining cigarettes, specifying them as a gift for Glaistig Uaine. The guards parted to let him through.

Lung wants to kill Bakuda, this is the only explanation I have for wanting to see her. Kill her as punishment for her failed attempt to set them free. Bakuda, YOU'RE FUCKED. This Dragon will turn you into a living bomb. New characters with weird ass codenames here. Marquis- another character with noble codename. After Kaiser (Emperor) and Regent. Wow, I'll look after possible Queen, King, Count, Countess, Price, Princess, Marquise, let's see with how many nobles Wildbow can come up. I guess Marquis' power is to spit blue blood to peasants and turn them into his mindless personal slaves, who'll do anything for their Lord. Glaistig Uaine (I googled uaine. Means green in old irish) and glaistig is a ghost in scottish mythology so she can either become immaterial, passing through walls, she can communicate with ghosts (if there is such thing in Worm), or she can absorb life energy from people, thus weakening them or even straight up killing them (since she's in the Birdcage and she seems pretty respected by her cellmates, maybe she's indeed a serial murderer or someone who did something pretty bad).

He found Bakuda in a cell all to herself. The walls of the prison were all metal of some sort, painted a dark blue, but Bakuda had scratched formulas and sentences into the walls of her cell, where they glittered silver-gray in the right light. Her cot was pulled into the center of the room to give her more surface to write on.
"Bakuda," he spoke.
"Lung! This place is amazing!" she grinned maniacally, her scarred lips spread wide, "I thought it would suck, but it's… it's like being inside the fucking Mona Lisa of architecture. Genius shit. She wasn't lying about this place being inside a vacuum, but what's amazing is what happens when you breach the outside. See, she didn't make this place tough. It's fragile. Like she built the most complex house of cards ever. You knock a hole in the wall, and you're not only pretty much guaranteed to off yourself, but the change in air pressure changes the room configuration, seals off the space so the breach doesn't affect anyone in other rooms. And even if you stop the main bits from sliding down, the drop in air pressure carries into the next room, and that room seals off. I could spend a decade figuring out how she did this. And that's the simplest part of it. In busier areas-"
"I do not care about this," Lung interrupted her breathless rambling.
Bakuda stopped and wheeled around, still grinning. "Ok. How you doing?"
"Satisfactory. My eyes are healing, but I am still having trouble seeing color. I do not like the leader of my cell block, but he is a fair man. He has given me his favor in exchange for telling him about Brockton Bay, a place he once operated. This has helped ensure I am not bothered. That, and the prisoners seem to wait to see what each new inmate can do before they pick him as a target."

"Yep. It looked pretty grim for me for a few days, but when the freaky girl in charge of this block found out I could fix the televisions here, things suddenly got a lot easier."
"I see."
She raised an eyebrow, smiling. "So. Why the visit? Feeling lonely?"
"No."
She dropped the smile in the blink of an eye. "Then explain."
"This is your first time in a prison, yes?"
"Yep."
"I was in prison before I came to America. There are four ways one can survive in such a place. You can join one of the gangs or groups in charge. This was not possible for me then, for I was known to be half Japanese, half Chinese, and there was no gang willing to include such a person. It is not a possibility for me now, either, for I am too used to being in charge to bow and scrape for any length of time without losing my patience. It is the route I see you have taken here."

Bakuda feels like HOME in this jail. She's even trying to see its weaknesses, but she doesn't seem too interested to break out, more to stay there and have fun. Ok, girl, but I'm afraid that is your last day of your life. The Dragon will not spare you and I'm not sure what exactly you can do against him, since your normal bombs will be useless and I doubt that your cellmates allowed you to look into their powers to create bombs based on them. You might break holes into your cell but the change in air pressure will not affect him- because of his flames- more that will affect you (or this is how I believe that it works, I'm not very good at physics

).

"Sure," Bakuda eyed him warily.
"The second option is to be somebody's bitch. They give you their protection in exchange for the most base of services. You understand why I would not take this route."
"I get it, yeah."
"The remaining options are to either kill someone or to be seen as a madman. In such cases, one demonstrates he is too dangerous or unpredictable to be fucked with."
"So what are you doing?"
"I thought I would choose the third and fourth."
Bakuda's eyes went wide. She backed away, then realized the futility of the move. Lung stood in the middle of the one doorway that led out of the cell. "Why?"
"You insulted me. You failed me. Because I must kill someone, and killing a subordinate of mine who others have cause to protect should also mark me as sufficiently unpredictable. Others will fear me after this."
"I… I insulted you to get your power going, you know?" she squeaked, "I did it to help our escape."
"I might have overlooked it for this reason, but we did not escape. You failed me, both here and in the city."
She flicked her arm, and an arrangement of bedsprings and twisted scrap metal dropped from her sleeve into her open hand. "I'll punch a hole in the outside of the cell if you come any closer. Air flows out of the room, door seals shut, we both suffocate."
"You are not fast enough."
"Wanna bet?"
He did.

Bakuda, say goodbye to your life. This madman is VERY PISSED OFF (also he wants to make himself respected in his cell block) and I'm 1000% convinced that you shouldn't take the bet. He doesn't need to breathe once he's in his full flame form since he already burns up the oxygen around him. While you NEED to breathe, you crazy woman, either you'll die by suffocation or being incinerated. Rest in fucking pieces, Bakuda, it was fun with you while it lasted

.

Alright, tomorrow I'm going to start the new Arc. Nice to see a piece of Birdcage, but now I WANT MOAR! I have mixed feelings with this Interlude. I both like it (Birdcage, Dragon, Bakuda's imminent death) and I both hate it (because :mob:

FREE CANARY! :mob:

).

Good night and sleep well, good people.

blackarrow · Apr 3, 2018

ExNihilo said:
Poor Paige, victim of the 'All Masters Are Evil' propoganda campaign.

And it's a minor point, but technically PRT rankings have to do with how difficult they are to fight, not how powerful they are. Usually equivalent, but still. 6 is pretty high, but there's a reference table, I'll see if I can find it, that details the PRT's standard responses.

EDIT: Source has spoilers, but could copy-paste the relevant info if you wanted.

FREE CANARY! :mob:

indeed. Yes, please, I demand some info, but I hope that someone will not report you again for spoiling.

blackarrow · Apr 3, 2018

djd said:
Something I should point out- Danny did arguably the worst decision possible. Cornering and forcing someone (particularly a teenager) who is showing pretty much all the symptoms of clinical depression and continuing trauma from the locker pretty much reinforces all of her problems and lets her know that her father cannot be trusted.

edit:
Basically, he should of known that doing this would of set off all of her neurosis (it doesn't take a Tattletale to figure out locking up the girl which was recently trapped in a locker might not end well) but did so anyway b/c he was more interested in his peace of mind than her mental health- which is something he should not of done as a parent.

I respect your opinion, but try to see from Danny's POV too. His daughter still doesn't want to communicate with him, despite him trying to get close to her few times, she keeps hiding things from him, she missed classes for a month, she rarely spend time home, as a parent he's worried for her safety, he wants to protect her, to know what's he's going on with her, he had some valid reasons to become enraged and act like this. If Taylor would have tried to be more open and honest (or at least find more harmless lies like "I didn't go to school because I spend time with my friends. They're my very first true friends I have, you have to understand me, its something like a therapy if I'd be rather in their company than in that hell of that school and anyway I can take online courses so don't worry") and show him her powers, he wouldn't be so worried anymore as he knows that she have good friends, she feels better and she can protect herself. But....Taylor was the one who lied and let him in dark and he acted like any protective and desperate parent would have acted. Besides, he already lost his wife. He doesn't want to lose the person whom he loves the most too. While Taylor is afraid of being locked, Danny is also afraid of losing everything.

ExNihilo · Apr 3, 2018

blackarrow said:
Lustrum (her codename doesn't tell me absolute anything about her power, so far this is the only codename that I can't associate with any possible power ) could become Skitter's NUMBER ONE FAN if she'll ever hear about how she wrecked Lung and Velocity's dicks

Hah, funny story, I think you'll laugh when you hear about it...

blackarrow said:
Dragon is a GENIUS for building such awesome super-jail inside a hollow mountain, filled with vacuums and foam. But she's also a sweetheart for trying so hard to help Paige and caring about her fate. Now, I wonder what if someone have the power to instantly teleport in any place on the earth. For example, a parahuman can teleport to Paris or London or Egypt. How in the hell this mountain, even" filled" with vacuum, can stop them from teleporting anywhere outside the jail and the mountain? What if someone is invincible, being able to navigate the vacuum also can't be defeated by any drone, even the lethal ones? What is someone have reality warping powers, someone like Scarlet Witch, Mad Jim Jaspers, Franklin Richards or mr. Mxyzptlk (yep, I can type his name ) and can simply decide that they want the Birdcage to stop existing? What this jail would do to someone like Magneto, who can manipulate magnetic fields like they're nothing? What about Endbringers, able to turn into fantastical monsters?

PRT is smart-ish, in general, they don't put prisoners who could escape the prison into the prison. And yes, someone Magneto-tier could get out, but are very rare, and don't like to come quietly. If someone like Magneto were captured, separate arrangements would probably be arranged. Technically, a few people probably could escape the birdcage if they tried hard enough, but they know that they would be under a lot of pressure, and The Entire US+Canada Superheros is a lot of pressure.

blackarrow said:
Yes, please, I demand some info, but I hope that someone will not report you again for spoiling.

Alright, in spoilers not because it is a spoiler, but for organization, though be careful. This is from a 'game' Wildbow created, where you run a PRT division.

Poses a threat only just above human norms, an unexceptional individual may be able to cope with the ability or walk away unharmed from an altercation where the abilities in question were leveraged. Ability should be assumed to be a nonthreat and need not be identified if other matters prove more pressing.

An alert, exceptional, well equipped, and/or trained individual should be able to answer or address the ability in question, but it can prove problematic. Team members are reminded of standard countermeasures and should put these measures in effect when there are no pressing other matters

Civilians, even alert or fit civilians, will not be able to handle the ability or abilities in question. Several trained individuals may be required to deal with the situation. Protocol suggests that care should be taken to remove civilians from the area and discourage them from participating.

One full squad of trained operatives should be able to deal with this situation alone, but exceptional circumstance, context and environment may bias things one way or the other.

Additional countermeasures come into effect. A typical parahuman and/or one parahuman assisting a squad of operatives should be able to deal with the power in question. Operatives can engage until assistance arrives.

A typical trained parahuman and/or one parahuman assisting a squad of operatives should be able to deal with the power in question. Operatives should postpone engagement.

Parahumans and operatives should assume that traditional actions are going to be met by a complication. Acquiring further intel recommended where possible, but not mandated.

Parahumans should engage in pairs or trios at a minimum, two fully equipped squads should be deployed. Acquiring further intel is mandated, all acting parties should shift to the defensive or delay until intel can be acquired.

Evacuation of civilians should take priority for all squad members. Engaging should be avoided outside of specific missions and tasks. Capes should engage only when supported by their team to ensure a minimum of complications or danger.

Assume extreme complications, with standard tactics not applying, or the power in question having an additional factor that exaggerates its effect. Capes and PRT should evacuate where possible, and should only engage when a specific mission and strategy has been outlined. Major countermeasures should take effect.

In the event of a serious confrontation, additional teams or specific high-rated individuals should be called in to manage the crisis.

Plus special descriptors for each class.

Has the ability to transport themselves and/or others to other locations, by means of enhanced speed, teleportation, flight, vehicles or the like.
General response is to limit movements where possible, anticipate attack from any direction. When declared in the field, if possible, append classification with type. Mover: Teleporter!
Threat level 2+: Communicate mover nature. Where possible, move fight to a contained area where free-ranging movement is less effective, targeting objectives or other threats to draw attention and focus. Lock down area.
Threat level 5+: Assume containment is impossible. Clearance granted for truck-mounted nonlethal measures (net launchers, foam sprayers) that might otherwise inconvenience locals.
Threat level 9+: Higher office and PRT offices in nearby or neighboring cities should be notified of possible threat or retaliation in case of confrontation.

Can affect a broader area, asserting some degree of control over the battlefield. May include gas, explosions, forcefields, and ambient or radiated effects.
General response is to spread out, minimizing the shaker's ability to affect multiple individuals at once.
Threat level 2+: Communicate shaker nature. Where possible, move or stagger fight locations with some regularity, to slow their ability to seize total command over a battlefield. Shaker-class threats take high priority, and can or should be baited out and taken out of action.
Threat level 5+: All individuals should remain as mobile as possible, operating alone or in pairs. Evacuate the area, and personnel are warned not to rely too much on cover, environmental advantages, or situational advantages. Stagger confrontations, leaving an area when identified.
Threat level 9+: Evacuation takes utmost priority.

Has enhanced strength or durability, most dangerous in a melee, typically very difficult to put down. While the execution may remain fairly stable, the source of this power can vary.
General response depends on degree of brute classification, but should involve focusing fire, limiting movements, and maintaining a safe distance.
Threat level 2+: Communicate brute nature. Assume divided fire will not have any serious effect, and devote focused fire to the target. Treat as low priority unless movements cannot be restricted, in which case the brute can be escalated to moderate priority.
Threat level 5+: Assume standard munitions are not going to hamper the brute. Lethal munitions are authorized, truck emplacements are authorized. Property damage should be expected and accounted for. Where possible, move fight to an open area.
Threat level 9+: Inter-city missile emplacements and other large scale munitions are authorized. Assume standard parahuman abilities are not going to hamper the target.

Has the ability to alter themselves to a different state in which they maintain different abilities. Appends other powers, but only in this state. Can also include general altered states.
Target the individual outside of any enhanced state where possible. All other effects depend on the sub-classification

Has the ability to control others. Can include degrees of control (swaying attitudes or emotions) and a wealth of controlled entities (individuals, animals, objects, created beings).
Numbers assumed to be equal, masters take second highest priority and are targeted first.
Threat level 2+: Team is notified as to master classification. Master prioritized as target, with likely location regularly communicated to team and oversight, to allow expedient removal.
Threat level 5+: Assuming nonhuman, non-sapient minions, full lethal munitions are authorized against any massed forces. In case of controlled humans, all standard 'eyes-on' protocols are in effect (see Changer and Stranger). Passwords in effect.
Threat level 9+: Inter-city missiles and other large-scale munitions may be authorized, depending on the situation.

Can create devices or alter existing devices well beyond usual restrictions of education, knowledge, resources, and/or physics.
Tinkers are less dangerous when removed from their gear, but should not be assumed to be harmless. A typical tinker can artificially assume any number of other classifications, depending on specialty. Specialty should be appended to the classification in every case possible. (ie. phasing specialty or electricity specialty)
Threat level 2+: Team is notified as to tinker classification. Disruption is encouraged, with use of flashbangs.
Threat level 5+: Electromagnetic pulses are authorized to disrupt gear, with some property damage likely.
Threat level 9+: Other tinkers or liasions should be contacted to better inform about capabilities and to answer immediate threats.

Ranged, offensive attacks of some form. Can include blasts, thrown or moved objects, grenades. Not always damaging, but generally deleterious.
Response varies greatly depending on the nature of the blaster. At low levels, cover is highly recommended. At higher levels, movement is a higher priority, and cover should be assumed to be useless.
Threat level 2+: Team is notified as to blaster classification so they can take cover at next opportunity. Frequent reporting on blaster's location and likely direction of fire are encouraged. Suppression of ranged fire is encouraged but not mandated.
Threat level 5+: Resources and/or personnel are devoted to pressuring the blaster threat, keeping them moving and focused on a target to protect other personnel. Truck-mounted emplacements may be necessary to apply sufficient pressure.
Threat level 9+: Evacuation of likely firing zone is prioritized. Responding to high-caliber ranged threat is likely to necessitate matching response, if civilians or property are endangered. Inter-city missiles and other large-scale weapons are authorized.

Possesses enhanced knowledge, skills and/or perceptions beyond any reasonable norm. Includes clairvoyance, precognition, skill acquisition, enhanced hearing and enhanced sight.
Thinker capes, all numbers assumed to be equal, take the highest priority in engagements.
Threat level 2+: Team is notified as to thinker classification. Communication should be limited and the thinker should be cut off from teammates where possible. Encrypted or coded communications may be necessary. Failing that, the operation may need to be silent (noncommunicative team).
Threat level 5+: Maximum disruption to the senses, with flashbangs and nonlethal truck emplacements put into regular effect. All possible measures should be undertaken to keep the thinker threat from communicating. Pre-prepared thinker countermeasures (false information) should be entered into play. PRT thinkers should be contacted remotely to maximize counter-thinking.
Threat level 9+: Contact the head office to discuss needs and resources available.

Has a power that applies on physical contact. Often applies a changed state, like the breaker classification, but isn't personal. Melee range, but not strength or durability, as per Brute.
General response is to maintain a set distance and maintain visual on the striker. Open areas are preferrable to cramped quarters.
Threat level 2+: Team is notified as to the striker classification. Formation should maintain a distance. Foam sprayers authorized.
Threat level 5+: Truck mounted foam sprayers and net guns are authorized.
Threat level 9+: None

Can alter their form, appearance, and/or natural abilities through some manipulation of their bodies. Does not include new powers beyond natural weapons, armor, or durability.
Sustained focus fire is recommended. Low-ish priority, all numbers assumed to be equal.
Threat level 2+: Team is notified as to Changer classification. Basic 'eyes on' protocols initiated, with team members maintaining constant eye contact with one another, and eyes on the changer. Changer is never assumed to be unarmed.
Threat level 5+: Full eyes on protocols and verbal passwords put into effect. No facility, locked down or otherwise, is assumed to be impregnable.
Threat level 9+: None

Can manipulate powers in some capacity, altering, granting, strengthening, weakening or removing them entirely, or has powers that interact solely with the powers of others.
PRT squads are encouraged, with capes sidelined, barring all but the most threatening situations. Ranged fire and distance is encouraged, with minimal contact and involvement, to preserve safety of involved capes.
Remainder depends on nature of power.

Powers predominantly lend themselves to infiltration. Ability in question might bypass defenses, mislead, or help to avoid notice.
Full 'eyes on' is SOP where possible. Other safeguards include indiscriminate fire and high priority targeting.
Threat level 2+: Team is notified as to stranger classification. Areas may be secured and 'taped', to track movement through doors or windows. Passwords in effect.
Threat level 5+: Constant communication between every team member and a relay in the operations room is implemented, complete with passwords and personal passwords.
Threat level 9+: Nonlethal shoot-on-sight implemented for anyone who goes 'dark' for any period of time.

I do love how a lot of the high end is just 'Break out the ICBMs'. But you can see a little bit of why the PRT reacts so poorly to masters. It's not helpful in that regard that Heartbreaker, the most visible Master, is an absolute terrible person.

AmbarGriss · Apr 3, 2018

Ah poor Canary, you wouldn't imagine the number of fanfics that have her freed in some way or another. That's how much the fandom feels sorry for her.

LordYam · Apr 3, 2018

blackarrow said:
I respect your opinion, but try to see from Danny's POV too. His daughter still doesn't want to communicate with him, despite him trying to get close to her few times, she keeps hiding things from him, she missed classes for a month, she rarely spend time home, as a parent he's worried for her safety, he wants to protect her, to know what's he's going on with her, he had some valid reasons to become enraged and act like this. If Taylor would have tried to be more open and honest (or at least find more harmless lies like "I didn't go to school because I spend time with my friends. They're my very first true friends I have, you have to understand me, its something like a therapy if I'd be rather in their company than in that hell of that school and anyway I can take online courses so don't worry") and show him her powers, he wouldn't be so worried anymore as he knows that she have good friends, she feels better and she can protect herself. But....Taylor was the one who lied and let him in dark and he acted like any protective and desperate parent would have acted. Besides, he already lost his wife. He doesn't want to lose the person whom he loves the most too. While Taylor is afraid of being locked, Danny is also afraid of losing everything.

Danny's reasons are sympathetic but his way of dealing with it was stupid. Danny's not a bad man but he kinda sucks as a parent sometimes

blackarrow · Apr 4, 2018

Hi, humans and parahumans (I don't make differences, see? I love you all, doesn't matter if you have or not superpowers

) The last Interlude (the longest Interlude so far) made me imagine how some characters will survive if they'll get jailed in Birdcage. I think Lisa will become a BOSS there, manipulating everyone against everyone until they'll either kill each other or start treating her with respect and fear (after all, is the girl who know their darkest secrets and how to use these secrets against them). Taylor will not stand any chance without her Swarm (and I highly doubt that the Swarm can go there as well) - she's very intelligent, but without being able to use her power while surrounded by powerful criminals, her chances to survive are very slim , but the most vulnerable one would be Rachel (she'll either go completely nuts or kill herself). Since her dogs won't be allowed to follow her there, she won't live without them. You just can't keep a dog girl away from her pack

. Coil will either become the King of Birdcage, since he's so good with manipulation games or he might escape without any problem (if his power will be confirmed to decide the outcomes through instantly Deus ex machina, he'll find an exit without even trying). You just can't keep a snake imprisoned. He'll find ways to slither out. Ok, before I'll start the new Arc, I want to say that I hope with all my heart that Paige will have a good life there, as good as it can be judging by her surroundings. I mean, she can make friends, spend her entire day singing to her cellmates and making them do what she's telling them to do

. Paige's happiness in this story is a thing that makes me happy. 7.01 | Worm , its title might refer to the only way Taylor's Swarm can communicate (apart from writing): through BUZZING. Not very hard to guess. Alright lets buzz with this new Arc.

Brian was quicker than a guy his height should've been. He stepped back out of the way of my jab, then turned his body in what I was learning was going to be a kick. Thing was, I didn't know where that kick would be directed, and he generally didn't hold back with his kicks the way he did with his jabs. Knowing this, keeping to his instructions on being unpredictable, I threw myself forward and awkwardly tackled him.
His thigh caught me in the side as he brought his leg around, which hurt, but not as badly as the kick would have. Even so, I succeeded in knocking him to the ground. Any sense of victory I might have felt was short lived, because I fell with him, and he was more prepared for what came next than I was. We hit the ground, he used the leverage of his hands and his still-raised thigh to heave me to his right. Before I had my bearings, he flipped himself over in my direction and straddled me.
I jabbed a hand for his side, but he caught my wrist and twisted my arm around until my elbow was pointing at my bellybutton. I grabbed at his shirt with my other hand, hoping to maybe buck him off me (fat chance), and he grabbed that wrist too. He adjusted his grip on my twisted right arm and pinned my arms down against the ground, stretched out over my head.
"It's a start," he smiled down at me.
Realizing the position he had me in, feeling the pressure of his thighs against my hips, his weight resting partially on my lower body, I must've blown a synapse. My thought process ground to a halt. It didn't help that the first place my mind went was interpreting his 'start' as being this position leading to something else.
"We keep this up, and you could be quite the scrapper," he elaborated. "When we were on the ground, here, and I pushed you to one side, you should have rolled with it. Get yourself some distance. If you were really quick about it, you could have even been on your feet before I was, which would be a good position for attack."

"Mmm," was the most coherent response I could manage.
"You going to let her up, or are you enjoying this too much?" Lisa asked him, from where she sat on the couch. She had her arms folded over the back of it, her chin on the cushion. Her hands were folded in front of her mouth, hiding what I suspected was an amused smile.
Brian smiled as he stood, "Sorry, Taylor. You want to go a round, Lise?"
"Not dressed for it, it's too early in the day, and I wouldn't deny Taylor her fun," she spoke, without raising her head. When I gave her an irritated look, she winked at me.
Brian and I stood and faced each other, then both of us hesitated, me staying just out of his reach.
"I'm surprised you're up for this, you two," Lisa commented, "Aren't your legs sore from the jumping around last night? You especially, Taylor. You went on a run this morning, and now you're sparring?"
"If my knees could talk, they'd be screaming in agony," I answered her. I raised my hand as Brian moved to attack while I was distracted, and he backed off again. "But staying active keeps my mind off stuff."
"Everything okay?" Brian asked me. I shrugged, glanced at Lisa.
"Taylor went home," Lisa explained, "Got in an argument with her dad, came back here. Might be staying a while, yeah?"
"Yeah," I echoed her.
"Sorry," Brian sympathized.

This are going like usually. Taylor and Brian training, Taylor slowly dying from nosebleed (I think that if Taylor will have to die in the end, its going to be that moment when she'll remain without a single drop of blood in her body. Damn you, Brian, and your boyish smile!!!), Lisa shipping the hell out of Fireflies (Lisa is also a accomplice to Taylor's slow death) and probably poor, poor Danny crying at his home, completely alone and not knowing what his daughter is doing in the meantime

. Good stuff!

"Me too," I spoke. I stepped in closer, trying to provoke him to move, but he didn't fall for it. "I love my dad. I never really had that phase others did, where I felt embarassed to be around him, where we didn't understand each other. I thought we were closer than that, until last night."

"Are things going to be okay?"
"Don't really know," I replied. Changing the subject, I admitted, "Okay, I'm stuck. I'm standing here, facing you, and I don't know what I can do that isn't going to wind up with me getting hit or thrown to the ground. I move forward, there's a million things you could do to kick my ass. What would you do, in my shoes?"
"Honestly? Hmm," he relaxed a bit, "Good question. I guess I'd go for the nearest thing I could use as a weapon."
"Besides that. There's nothing I could grab that would work for sparring without really hurting you."
"I guess I'd do what you're doing, wait for the other guy to make a move."
"Okay. So move."
He did. He stepped closer, feinted high with a kick, then ducked low to try and kick my feet out from under me. I could handle that much – I hopped a little to avoid his foot as it moved beneath me. Still, he was one step ahead of me, getting his footing with the extended leg and shoulder-checking me onto my ass. I took his advice from earlier, going with it, scrambling backward to create some distance, but he had the advantage of having both feet on the ground. He half-turned and followed after me, bringing his knee forward, stopping a few inches shy of my face.
"You're learning," he said.
"Very slowly."
"You're learning," he stressed, "You listen to what I say, you keep it in mind, and I almost never have to remind you of something twice."
He offered me his hand, and as I reached up to take it, he gripped my upper arm. I gripped his, and he hauled me back up to my feet.
"I come bearing coffee and breakfast," Alec pronounced, "That a certain team leader was too lazy to fetch."
"Aw fuck off, Alec," Brian replied, without any venom in his voice. He let go of my arm to grab a coffee. "I grab you something nine days out of ten, on my way here."
"That's your tax for the inconvenience of you living off site," Alec replied, moving toward the couch and handing Lisa and me our coffees. Lisa took the paper bag and fished out some muffins, handing me one. I sat on the couch next to her.
"So," Brian addressed us, as we all walked to the couches. "I think it's important to get a few things out of the way, now that we know who we're employed by, why, and our possibilities for the future."
Bitch settled on the other couch with her dogs hopping up around her as she pulled her feet up beside her. That left Brian to sit in the empty space between Alec and me. I felt painfully conscious of where his calf and arm were touching my leg and shoulder. I'd been running and sparring, I was probably sweaty. Did I smell? Would that gross him out? I couldn't help but feel self conscious, but I would've stood out more if I did something about it. I tried to focus on the discussion instead.
"First off, I don't think we should do a majority vote for this thing Coil proposed. As far as I'm concerned, this is too important, too game-changing, for us to go ahead with it if anyone's going to be unhappy or upset. We come to a consensus or we don't do it."
I wasn't the only one to nod in silent agreement.
"Second, Alec, I gotta ask about what Coil said. Past identity, your dad. Is this something that's going to come back and bite us in the ass?"
Alec sighed and leaned back against the arm of the couch with a roll of his eyes, "No chance we can ignore that?"
"I dunno, can we?"
"My dad runs his own group in Montreal. I was working for him before anything else."
"Who is he?" Brian pressed.
"Nikos Vasil. Heartbreaker."

Ok, this Arc started pretty funny, then turned a bit dark when I was thinking at the poor, poor Danny and his poor, poor feelings, and now its getting very dark once I found out who's Alec's father. Exactly the same Heartbreaker that Lisa described as one of the monsters who're sick in their heads even before getting their powers. I said before that this Nikos might control people's emotions, then break their hearts (either literally or metaphorical) without any real reasons, just for shit and giggles. Let's see how bad father he's, if he's as bad as Max or worse. Also, a great occasion to find more about Alec's past and maybe his personality.

My eyebrows went up at that.
Lisa whistled, "After Coil let that detail slip, I made a mental list of possibilities. Had it narrowed down to four. Heartbreaker was one, the pieces fit, but it was so hard to believe."
"He's big," Brian said.
"No," Alec shook his head, "He's scary. He's newsworthy. But he's not all that."

Heartbreaker was what you got when someone had a power like Gallant, the ability to manipulate emotions, and absolutely no compunctions about using it selfishly. Unlike Gallant, Heartbreaker didn't need to shoot you with any blasts of energy to affect you. He just needed to be near you, and the effects were long term or permanent.
Despite Alec's attempts at downplaying who and what his dad was, it was hard to ignore the fact that I'd grown up hearing what this guy had done on the evening news, that I'd come across mentions of it online since I started browsing the web for cape stuff as a kid. Heartbreaker found beautiful women, made them love him, really love him, and formed a cult-like group with them serving him hand and foot, committing crimes for his favor. They worshiped him to the extent they were willing to die for him. Drawn to their natural conclusion, his methods meant he had lots of kids. Alec included.
"Damn," I muttered. I asked Alec, "You grew up with that guy?"
He shrugged, "It was normal to me."
"I mean, what was it like? I can't even wrap my head around it. Were the women nice to you? What- how does that even function?"
"My dad's victims had eyes only for him," Alec said, "So no, they weren't nice to me or my brothers and sisters."

.......................FUCK.........THIS!!! Nikos is not only worse father than Max, but he's also one of the worst villains in this story so far. First, he's a SEXIST PIG who uses his powers to turn women into his personal slave and baby-makers. He's also the leader of his own cult, composed of his women-slaves and children-slaves. He's a RAPIST and an ABUSER. I DARE to think that he also raped his own children, I won't be surprised at all to hear about. He seems already worse than even Coil, and this says a lot.

"Details," Lisa said, "C'mon. Talk."
"I'm not a talkative person."
"Talk or I kick your ass," she threatened.
"Seconded," I added.
He scowled briefly, then crossed one foot over the other on the coffee table, settling deeper into the couch with his coffee resting on his belt buckle. "We had everything we could ask for, as far as money and stuff went. Dad's victims took care of the chores, so the only thing us kids would have to do was take care of the babies sometimes. Didn't have to go to school, but some of my brothers and sisters did just to stay out of my dad's way."

Lisa, I know that you're curious (I'm curious myself too), but don't force Alec to talk about his past and his demented father if he doesn't want. You can't force someone to talk about uncomfortable things for him or her, after all you knew so many things (and I'm sure you know more) about Coil and didn't say a word to your team. You hide more secrets from them than any other team member. Bad, bad Lisa :eyeroll:

.

"Why?" I asked, "Or is that a dumb question?"
"Eh. It's hard to explain. He cultivated us, bred for us, went miles out of his way to get us back if a member of his 'family' was taken from him. Mounted a freaking crusade if it came down to it. But when we were around, he paid almost no attention to us kids. When he did pay attention, it was to discipline us or test us. Discipline usually meant getting a dose of paralyzing terror for not listening to him, insulting him or even looking him in the eye, sometimes. Testing happened on our birthdays or if he'd had a bad day… he'd try to set up a trigger event. Not supposed to be so hard, given that we were second generation capes, obviously, but he started when we were eight or so."
"How old were you? When your powers showed?" I asked, quiet, feeling intense pity not only for Heartbreaker's victims, but for the kids in that situation.
Whatever my feelings, Alec managed to look bored with the topic. "Hard to tell. Since I didn't go to school, and nobody really kept records, I lost track of the years. Ten or eleven, maybe. I was his fourth kid to show powers, and there were eighteen or so of us when I left. Most of 'em were babies, though."
Which made him, not Grue, the one of us with the most experience and seniority.
Alec shrugged, "So yeah. I worked for him for three or four years. We did jobs, I learned the family trade. Called myself Hijack at first. He started to get on my case. I think maybe he was having trouble affecting me the same way he did before my powers kicked in, so he compensated for that by riding me. Pushed my limits, made me do stuff that was dangerous, stuff that was hard on my conscience. Wanted me to break, beg him to stop, so he'd have leverage to get me to do what he wanted."

Oh God....I swear, I'll kiss the feet and be grateful forever to ANYONE who'll catch/defeat this BASTARD and kill him. But not just a fast kill, I want him to be tortured for days until his black rotten heart will stop beating. Even if Coil or Max will do that to this MONSTER, I'll be grateful to them. Poor Alec, poor every brother and every sister and every woman-slave in that family. Poor anyone who ever met Nikos in person. No wonder why Alec have sociopathic tendencies, his childhood was ruined by his "father" who turned his kids into his personal slave and enforcers, who triggered them to the point that they got powers but also lost their sanity. I won't blame any of Alec's brother and sister if they're growing up into serial murders or whatever sick villain, this is how they're raised and they don't know a different lifestyle. I actually feel pity for them

.

"And?"
"And he ordered me to kill this foot soldier for a group trying to push us out of their territory. After I was done, he told me I did it wrong, that I had to do it again with a captive we'd taken, and I knew no matter what I did, he'd make me keep doing it. Just another way of pushing my limits. I had convinced myself I didn't care about the people I was hurting or about this guy I'd just killed, and maybe I didn't. Maybe I don't, still. Dunno. But it was so pointless."
He shrugged, "I didn't see a real reason to stay. Walked away. Changed my name, got fresh ID, changed my villain name too."
He'd killed someone on his father's orders, which made him the second killer in the group. Armsmaster must have dug up that detail & drawn the right conclusions after connecting Alec to his prior alter ego.
"When did this happen, this killing?" I asked, quiet, "How old were you when you killed that guy?"
"Hmm. I'd been gone for about two years before the boss got in touch with me, which was about this time last year, so three years ago. I would've been twelve or thirteen."
Was that forgivable? He'd been made to do it, he'd been in fucked up circumstances with no real moral compass to go by, still a kid. The way he described it, though, it didn't sit well with me. Cold blooded murder.

"You said he goes after his kids if they leave," Brian spoke, "Will that happen here? If he realizes you're one of his?"
"Dunno. Maybe. I'd bet he'd send one of my brothers or sisters to talk to me, ask me to come back before he did anything else. If that happened, I'd probably leave before he came in person."
"Or we could back you up," Brian pointed out.

Shut up, Taylor, its not Alec's fault for killing people, his "father" forced him to do that. Its not his fault for becoming a barely functioning sociopath, Nikos is the only one guilty for this shit. The same I can tell for all his brothers and sister, if I'll ever meet them in person. Welp, if the Undersiders will confront Nikos's slave children army (and I'm certain that this will happen at a certain point in the story), I'm not sure if I'll ever bring myself to hate the children. Actually, I will feel very sorry for them and pray that Undersiders will not have to kill them. Poor innocent victims

.

"Or that," Alec agreed, apparently oblivious to the show of camaraderie. "Anything else? Any more questions for yours truly?"
"Dozens more," I said, "But I think we need to get to the other big topic of the day."
"Yeah," Brian agreed. "I'm less than thrilled you didn't mention this, I have my concerns about the possibility that a guy like him might come after you, after us, but there's nothing we can do about it for the time being. Let's focus on more pressing matters."
Lisa pulled her feet up beside her on the couch, "Thoughts on the deal? Before we vote?"

"Makes sense to me," Alec replied. "It's something I figured I'd end up doing eventually, controlling a territory, being boss of an area, letting the green roll in without any major effort."
"Could be a lot of effort," I spoke, "Depending on how secret he manages to keep this, and how successful he is. If this goes bad, it means us against however many capes the Protectorate decides to throw at us. We could wind up with the teams from Boston and New York coming to deal with the problem, if word gets out about what we're doing."
"Call me an optimist," Alec said. "I don't think it'll be that bad."
"Taylor just reminded me of what I said about the bank robbery, and what wound up happening." This from Brian. "We've been successful because we, by and large, pick our battles, go on the offensive, and catch our enemies off guard. In situations where we haven't done that, and I'm thinking specifically about our fight with Bakuda, we really struggled. That's when we came closest to getting killed. Consider that we'll be the ones on the defensive, if we're holding this territory and taking on all comers."
"We can work around that," Lisa replied, "Plans, information gathering, pre-emptive attacks. I've got the inside info, and there's nothing stopping Taylor from using her bugs to keep an eye on the neighborhood. Besides, Coil didn't say we couldn't hire other parahumans, just that anyone who wanted to work in Brockton Bay had to bend the knee to him. So we could theoretically recruit other parahumans, if we needed to, bulk our forces."
"My problem," I chose my words carefully, "Is it sounds too good to be true. What if it doesn't work out? What if we wind up miserable, or if he screws us, or if he isn't as good as he thinks he'll be? Do we walk away? Will we be able to?"
"I got away from my dad," Alec said. "Would it be so hard to get away from Coil?"
I didn't have a good answer to that. "I guess we don't know enough about him or the resources he's got at his disposal to say."

"envelops Alec into a BIG and well deserved hug and continues to review, while staying with him like this" Taylor is me here. I don't trust Coil not even if he'll take out his mask and will reveal to everyone some completely irresistible baby eyes

. I won't trust him not even if I'll see him playing with children and petting baby animals in his free time. Nope. Indeed Taylor, he'll screw you very, very bad, if not straight up murdering you once he'll have all the power. Also, if Coil is truly the God of parahumans, you can get away from him in just one way: Six Feet Underground. Nice no-return trip, guys.

"I do have my reservations," Brian spoke, "But I get the impression Coil's going ahead with this regardless of whether we're in or not. I'd rather be in on this than sitting on the sidelines, watching it happen."
"Yeah," I agreed, "I think that right now, what we stand to gain by saying 'yes', and being right, far outweighs what we stand to lose."
"So, who's for the deal, then?" Lisa asked us.
I raised my hand. Alec, Brian and Lisa joined me in raising theirs. That left the one person who hadn't participated in the conversation over Coil's deal as the sole nay vote. Bitch seemed unconcerned as she rubbed Brutus' shoulder.
"What's up?" Brian asked her.
"I don't like it. Don't trust him," she didn't raise her eyes from Brutus.
I leaned forward, "Not saying you're wrong in not trusting him, but why?"

Angelica, the one eyed, one eared terrier, nuzzled her, and Bitch scratched her behind the ear. Bitch explained, "He talks too much. Only reason people talk like he does is if they're covering something up."
"I don't think he's covering anything up," Lisa said, "My power would probably clue me in if he was hiding something."

"cuddles Alec at her chest -hoping he's not pervert and try something otherwise she'll smack him so loud that even Heartbreaker will hear it from Montreal" Lisa, your power doesn't tell you anything because you already know that he is hiding something but you can't tell. Spare me with this, gurl!

I agree with Rachel more than ever. She knows body language and can "smell" people's emotions and intentions better than anyone else. Coil can't trick this girl in the same manner he did with others.

"I'm going with my gut, and my gut says no. Besides, things are fine the way they are."
"But they could be better," Alec said.
"Your opinion, not mine. We done here? You said we wouldn't accept the deal unless everyone was cool with it, and I'm not."
Brian frowned, "Wait. I assumed we'd discuss this, hear each other out."
"Nothing to discuss," Bitch stood up and whistled twice. Her dogs hopped down from the couch to follow her. "I'm going to work."
"Come on," Brian said, "Don't-"
Lisa stopped him, "Let's wait, then. He said we had a week, we can afford to wait a day or two. Bitch, go do your thing, get it out of the way. But maybe try to be more open to negotiation and discussion when it comes up again."
Bitch's eyebrows knit together in a glare, not directed at anyone in particular. She turned her attention to collecting the things she needed – plastic bags, a few energy bars, leashes, and a backpack with a bright blue plastic stick jutting out of a gap in the zipper.
"Hey," I spoke up, "Can I come with?"
I'd told myself I wanted to connect with these guys, and that wasn't going to happen if I just sat back and participated only when invited. I had to put myself out there. Given what I was giving up to be here, I figured I owed it to myself.
Bitch, though, was less than impressed. The look she gave me could have sent a small animal fleeing for its life.
"Fuck you," she spat the words.
"Hey. What?" I was stunned.
"You want to come and bug me to change my mind. Well fuck you. You're not coming into my space, getting in my business, to make me do or say anything I don't want to do."

I started to raise my hands, in a placating gesture, but I stopped myself. Bitch had a different standard for handling social situations. She didn't understand stuff like tone, stress, sarcasm, and precedent had led her to assume sarcasm and aggression from any statement. And it wasn't just statements, I had a suspicion that the gesture of raising my hands could be seen as aggressive, or something like an animal trying to make itself look bigger, intimidating.
I had to communicate with her in a way that left the least room for misinterpretation.
"You're going to take care of the rescued dogs, right? That's what you do when you go out? Your 'work'?"
"None of your business."
"Coil said you're overloaded. I'm offering an extra set of hands, so you can give the dogs more of the attention they need."
"Bullshit."
"Enough," Brian started to rise, "You need to calm down-"
I put my hand on his shoulder and pushed him down. "I'm fine. Rachel, I'm going to make you a deal."
Her eyes narrowed.
"I thought my last deal was pretty fair, so hear me out?"
"Fine."
"Let me come along. I'll help out where I can, we'll maybe talk, but we won'ttalk about Coil, unless you bring it up. In exchange, if I do bring it up, or if I try to manipulate you one way or the other, you get a free shot at me."
"A free shot."
"One punch, however you want it, wherever you want to stick it. I know Brian said something about there being no repeats of the day we met, no fighting inside the group or whatever, but this would be a freebie. Totally allowed." I glanced at Brian, who only gave me a concerned look and a small, tight shake of the head.

Rachel is more intelligent and anchored in reality than people give her credit. More bonding between her and Taylor with the promise to see Taylor getting punched by Rachel if she'd screw things up. No problem, she already lost too much blood during every minute spent in Brian's company, so a little more blood wasted would be as insignificant as a drop in the ocean.

"Nah," Bitch answered, "You'll just piss me off some other way."
Impulsively, I told her, "Then how about this? If we finish, we get back here, and it turns out I've ruined your day, you get that free shot."
She stared at me for a moment. "So I just got to put up with you for a few hours, and then I get to knock your teeth out?"
"No," Brian said, raising his voice.
"Yes," I told her, giving Brian a pointed look. "If I mention the meeting before you do, or if I piss you off."
She looked me over, "Whatever. If you're that eager to get hit, it's your funeral." She took off the backpack and threw it at me. I caught it with both arms. Heavier than it looked.
As I hurried her way to get my running shoes on, Alec hissed at me, "You're crazy."
Maybe. Probably. But I couldn't think of a better way to reach out to Bitch.
I hoped this wasn't something I was going to regret.

"kisses Alec's forehead and releases him" Taylor was always crazy, Alec, I'm surprised that you noticed it NOW. Baby, let the girls have their fun. A BLOODY delicious fun!

Good night, my lovely humans and parahumans and sleep well. Don't let the black snake tell you what to do and neither heartbreakers to break your hearts. Before I'll go to sleep myself, a SINCERE and filled with RAGE FUCK YOU, HEARTBREAKER :turian:

.

blackarrow · Apr 4, 2018

AmbarGriss said:
Ah poor Canary, you wouldn't imagine the number of fanfics that have her freed in some way or another. That's how much the fandom feels sorry for her.

Please, recommend me all Canary/Birdcage's fanfics but after I finish Worm, okay? Thank you.

ExNihilo · Apr 4, 2018

blackarrow said:
Oh God....I swear, I'll kiss the feet and be grateful forever to ANYONE who'll catch/defeat this BASTARD and kill him.

For all that he is terrible, he is occasionally cunning. If you had what amounts to perfect mind-control, you could stop most capes in their tracks by mind-controlling them. But some capes, like Dragon or most Tinkers who put their minds to it, can build robots. Obviously, taking this guy in, or ICBM'ing his mansion, would be a great PR move. So why haven't they?

blackarrow said:
Rachel is more intelligent and anchored in reality than people give her credit

Yep. Too often, socially incompetent translates to stupid. It doesn't help that [Redacted].

HeWhoAdds · Apr 4, 2018

ExNihilo said:
For all that he is terrible, he is occasionally cunning. If you had what amounts to perfect mind-control, you could stop most capes in their tracks by mind-controlling them. But some capes, like Dragon or most Tinkers who put their minds to it, can build robots. Obviously, taking this guy in, or ICBM'ing his mansion, would be a great PR move. So why haven't they?

The dozens of hostages, I assume?

ExNihilo · Apr 4, 2018

HeWhoAdds said:
The dozens of hostages, I assume?

I mean, that doesn't really solve all the 'stealth robot insertion' or 'wait till he's asleep, send Legend to blitz the compound' issue. Hostages are part, but the PRT has established methods for dealing with hostages. The real issue is

the sleeper agents.

Assembler · Apr 5, 2018

ExNihilo said:
For all that he is terrible, he is occasionally cunning. If you had what amounts to perfect mind-control, you could stop most capes in their tracks by mind-controlling them. But some capes, like Dragon or most Tinkers who put their minds to it, can build robots. Obviously, taking this guy in, or ICBM'ing his mansion, would be a gr

Half the problem is that, unlike many cult leaders, Heartbreaker doesn't stay in a compound. Instead, he hides in the home of whoever he most recently enslaved (his kids are used to being crammed into a small amount of bedrooms). And he's good at making it look natural, like the woman withdrawing is because she got burned badly in relationships. The other half is that some of the people he enslaves get left in their position and serve as spies.

blackarrow · Apr 5, 2018

Hello, friends and enemies. Before we'll start the next chapter 7.02 | Worm, let's do a short recap of the last chapter. So, we have Alec as a sympathetic victim...CHECK; we have an even bigger asshole than Lung, Kaiser, Coil in the person of Nikos alias Heartbreaker......CHECK; the pile of assholes never stop growing?......CHECK; Taylor will lose all the blood from her body, but even so will continue to live through the SHEER power of determination.....IN PROGRESS. And now....for the most important question out of all: does Coil really have two dicks or its just an unsupported theory.....WE NEVER KNOW!!! (Damn, Wildbow, when you're going to show me what I'm the most interested to find about?

). On a serious side, I honestly want this Heartbreaker MONSTER to end up being merciless tortured and killed by Alec- would be such a poetic justice for everything Alec endured from his father through his ruined childhood. I'm gonna support Alec, no matter how repulsive and demented his revenge on his father would be

.

Bitch led the way as we traced a winding path through the Docks. Her dogs trotted at her side, occasionally stopping to sniff, but never rushing ahead or lagging so far behind that they pulled on the leash.
Glancing at her, I could see how she was more at ease, like this. When she was walking with the dogs at her side, I could see that the lines of her face were softer, there was less tension in her body. She wasn't quite so guarded.
I'd sort of assumed that her days of being homeless and fending for herself were the bad days, to her. That it was a step up, being with us. I was beginning to reconsider whether that was entirely true, seeing her stride down the streets and alleys with her dogs beside her. Here, she didn't have to worry about dealing with people and the social maneuverings she could no longer grasp. This was what she was used to.
She glanced my way, and a shadow of irritation touched her expression.
I was intruding on her domain, spoiling that. If I slipped up and pissed her off, I'd be lucky to get hit just once.
I knew we were close to our destination when I heard the barking. Angelica yapped back in reply, cranked herself up to 'excited frenzy' mode and rushed forward, pulling on the leash. Bitch stopped her, directed her to lie down with a motion of her finger, and we waited. When Angelica relaxed and put her chin on the ground, we moved forward again.
We didn't get three steps before Angelica pulled again, provoking the repetition of orders and another minute long wait.
The third time it happened, Bitch gave me a dark look. As though it were my fault, or more probable, she might have been anticipating impatience on my part. I didn't really mind, though. It wasn't like I had anywhere to be, and it was interesting to see her process.

"How long have you had her?"
"Five months."
"That's pretty amazing," I conceded, "I mean, she was abused before you got her, right? So even with having to get her past that, and she's already better trained than any dog I've seen that isn't yours."
"Walk on," she instructed Angelica. When Angelica didn't pull, Bitch handed out treats to Brutus, then Judas, then Angelica in turn, without breaking stride. "Dogs learn from their pack. She learns some from imitating Brutus and Judas."
I nodded.
"Most dog owners are retards anyways."

"I can believe that."
We approached the building that all the barking was coming from. The rusted skeleton of a small crane stood atop a partially constructed building. Bitch opened the door and waited until I was inside before closing it and latching it shut. I could hear scratching at the door just past the first room.

Taylor enters on Rachel's territory, populated probably by the dogs that she saved from the dog fighting ring. I imagine how powerful Rachel would be in the future if she'll manage to train all these dogs to listen her. She's going to have an Army of Car-Sized Dogs who'll tear through Brockton Bay like it is made of paper. She's going to become the Queen Bitch of the city. I would like to see each Undersider becoming stronger and more professional with each passing Arc and new adventure. Even if I doubt how Brian and Alec will become stronger than they're on moment, since their powers are pretty limited. Well, Alec might have a huge advantage, if he'll manage to kill his father and take all his brothers and sisters in his care (and under his command) he can have an Army of Superpowered Siblings who'll do anything for him, as gratitude for saving them from Heartbreaker. Then everyone will admire and fear him alike

.

When the second door leading further into the building was opened, a tide of dogs nearly bowled us over. I couldn't count them, but there were more than ten, less than twenty. All sorts of breeds, different sizes and shapes.
As Bitch moved forward as though the dogs weren't there, I struggled to even stand. I leaned against the front door for balance, and all I could think about was that moment Bitch had set her dogs on me, back when we first met.
I couldn't afford to appear weak in front of Bitch, so I avoided asking for help.
Cement was laid out over nearly half of the building interior, as the floor or foundation, but the work had been interrupted and abandoned partway through. There were areas where crushed stone had been laid out in preparation for the cement pour, and a combination of wind and rain had mixed regular dirt into the crushed stone a long time ago. Any spot inside the building that wasn't covered in concrete was marked by patches of grass and a few scraggy weeds.
Three walls of the ground floor were erect, plywood and drywall bolted to wood frames, with cement blocks piled against most of the exterior walls. Enough had been done at the front of the building for the construction workers to have started laying out a second floor, providing an overhang between the ground floor and the sky to keep things more or less dry. Things were too much of a mess for me to tell if the far exterior wall had been left incomplete or if had fallen down. It stood open to the environment, letting rays of dusty sunlight inside.

Bitch headed to a wood pallet stacked with bags of dog food, which rested atop a pallet of bricks. She drew a knife across the top of two bags and let them empty into a trough sitting below. I was grateful when most of the dogs around me rushed off to get their food.
The reprieve didn't last long. Several of the dogs began fighting in front of the trough. A black lab, snarling with his expression pulled into something grotesque, chased a smaller dog directly toward me. The little dog collided with my legs, and with the lab hot on her heels, it started fighting tooth and nail in its own defense. A bigger dog, longer and lankier than the lab, with very short fur, crossed the room to join the skirmish, protecting the little one.
"Bitch?" I asked, doing my best to keep my voice calm as the dogs fought beneath me, bumping into my legs. I backed up, but they brought the fight right to me once again.
"The black one is Sirius. He's the newest, not used to things. He'll get better as the other dogs socialize him and I get a chance to train him."
"They're, uh, really going at it," I winced and pulled one leg off the ground to keep it out of the way.
"Let me know if he draws blood."
The fighting was nerve wracking, conjuring up very vivid memories of Bitch's dogs terrorizing me. Why did this spook me so much when being around her dogs in monster form didn't make me that nervous?
Shutting my eyes, I drew on my power. My objective wasn't to do anything with it, but simply to get a little outside my own head, achieve a greater perspective. Focusing on the big picture, seeing myself as a very small figure against the backdrop of a whole neighborhood, I was able to center myself. I could ignore the hairy animals shoving up against my legs, jumping up at and around me, pressing their cold noses against my hands and arms.
A mass of bugs in my immediate vicinity lunged between my legs. My eyes snapped open, and I saw the culprit, placed my hands on him, the dark furred lab. It wasn't fleas, either, or ticks or anything like that. It was a denser mass. The closest parallel I could draw would be a wasp nest. Or maggots in a trash bag.

Taylor is still traumatized because the first meeting between her and Rachel wasn't the most lovely one. She interprets a simple playful activity between dogs as another attempted attack. Poor soul, first the trauma of being locked inside small spaces, and now the trauma of being bitten by dogs. Taylor is going to collect more traumas until the end of this story, isn't right?

Through her powers, she feels that one of the dogs might have intestinal worms (or this is what I believe it should have). Good thing, Taylor, if you help Rachel to remove them, she's not going to punch you at the end of the day. She might even hire you as her shelter's vet

.

"Bitch," I spoke, cautiously.
"What?" She sounded… annoyed was the wrong word. She sounded ready to kill me, for interrupting her from setting the dogs up with fresh water.
"I think one of these guys is really sick."
Her head snapped in my direction. "Show me."
The dogs stopped fighting as she stalked toward us. I took the opportunity to gingerly take hold of Sirius's collar as she ushered the rest away. She glowered at me, "Explain."

It was hard to organize my thoughts, even without accounting for her intense scrutiny. "Worms. But not, like, tapeworm. I-I can't see through their eyes or anything. Um. I don't know what they are, so I can only tell you what I know. They're mostly juvenile, only a few adult, um-"
"Above the heart, here?" She pointed to a spot low in his chest.
I nodded.
"And the arteries? There's one from here," she pointed at the lab's shoulder, "To here?" she traced her finger along his spine.
"That's where a lot of them are. But they're not just there. They're everywhere inside him."
"Fuckers. Those fuckers," she growled. "I warned them."
Taking hold of the lab's collar, she ordered the dog, "Come along, Sirius."
The dog resisted until Brutus moved forward, then went along, though he still pulled and twisted against the grip on his collar.
"I don't know dogs," I said, following her into the herd of dogs just inside the building. "I never had a pet, so I'm clueless here."
"It's heartworm. Something dogs are supposed to take medicine to prevent, every month."

Close enough, they're heartworms (I googled heartworms and lets say that.... I didn't like what I saw). Poor Sirius, he's infected with heartworms. Taylor can command the worms to come out from Sirius' body, it shouldn't be difficult for her. But still....his owners were such JERKS for not taking properly care of their dog. I have a tarantula and a cat and I take care of them like they're my babies, not my pets

. People who have no idea (or doesn't give a shit) to take care of their pets should not be allowed to have one, you just can't keep animals just for your personal entertainment. Animals are living beings who deserve to be protected, taken care of and loved. I wish that more people should start to understand this because I'm sick and tired to see at TV (and read) about owners who beat up or outright torture their animals. I'm glad this chapter touches this disturbing subject as well.

"The owners didn't, then?"
"The shelter didn't. Lazy, cheap-ass motherfuckers. This is the second dog I got from that place that wasn't taken care of. And people who do adopt get a sick dog? Fuckers, fuckers, fuckers."
"What are you going to do with him?" I tried to ignore the dogs milling around me, to keep moving forward and follow Bitch.
"We are going to help him."
I shook my head. "I don't think I can get the worms out without hurting him. I mean, they're in his bloodstream and the closest thing to an exit would be his lungs, and I think they would bleed too much. I'm not even sure I can move them."
"Grab that chain." She pointed across the room, still holding on to Sirius.
I saw several lengths of heavy chain, spotted with rust, looped up and hung on the wall above a pallet of weather worn brick. I hurried over and hauled it down. It was heavy enough I had to drag it on the grass to bring it to her.
"Backpack," she told me. I took it off and handed it to her. She opened the front and handed me a carabiner, a metal loop with a locking hinge. "Go tie the chain to something solid."
I did, looping the chain around the base of the crane that was bolted to the concrete pad, toward the center of the room. I fed the length through the carabiner and headed back to Bitch.
Judas, Brutus and Angelica were already halfway to full size. Bitch took the chain and began extending it around the struggling dog, winding it through a half dozen carabiners so it extended around his neck, body and stomach, and between his legs.
"What's going on?"

"I'm using my power on him. And he's not trained."
"Wait. Didn't a dog kill some people, back when you first had your powers?"
"Yup."
I felt my heartbeat speed up a notch. "So this is really dangerous."
"Yup." She tugged on the chain at his neck.
"Okay." I exhaled slowly. "What can I do?"
"Keep out of the way for now."
Sirius started to grow. Muscles rippled underneath his black coat, and he yelped, pulling away.
"Couldn't we maybe get him tranquilized, first?" I asked, watching the lab try to get away, despite the chains binding him.
Bitch held the length of chain in her hands, keeping him in place. "No. My power would burn away the drugs."
"He doesn't like it."
"It takes getting used to. But this is better than what he'd go through if a vet took care of it. Safer."

Taylor is MILES SMARTER than me cause she realized that, if she'd try to get the worms out of Sirius, she might kill him, while if I were in her place, I wouldn't have thought at this, I would have murdered him instead

. Rachel is going to try something with her powers, maybe if she'll grow him big enough, the worms will be crushed and killed by the overgrowned internal organs. So, Rachel's power can also heal, besides turning them into monsters? Wow, pretty versatile power and Rachel is so good at using it in many interesting ways. Rachel have a simplistic understanding of humans and their behavior, also she's uneducated and half feral, but this doesn't stop her from being DAMN SMART and always surprise me with her easy ways of solving complicated problems

.

Not for us, I thought, as Sirius pulled back. Bitch pulled him closer to her, shifting her grip to the chain at his neck and chest to feed the slack through it and give Sirius more room to grow. His ears were pulled back, his face etched in fear and rage, teeth bared. I would have been terrified he would snap at me, given how easily he could take half of someone's face off with a single bite, but Bitch never flinched or broke eye contact with him.
Something moved to my right, and I saw Brutus pacing. The other dogs, the ones I didn't know, stayed back a fair distance, kept at bay by Brutus's watchful presence.
There was a sound of shuffling chain as Bitch adjusted the chain again.
"Judas, Angelica!" she called out, releasing Sirius and backing away. "Hold!"
Sirius, pupils narrowed to dots, lunged at her. Judas stepped between them, while Angelica struck at the lab from the side, knocking him to the ground. In a moment, the two dogs were on top of him, Judas holding Sirius's throat in his jaws, while Angelica lay astride his hindquarters. Even with two full size dogs piled on him, Sirius managed to put up a struggle.
"The heartworm?" Bitch glanced at me.
I felt out with my power. Whatever was going on inside Sirius' body, the worms were being churned up, disintegrating and dissolving.
"Almost gone."

She nodded.
She turned her attention to Sirius, who was lying prone, his chest heaving. "Heartworms have a bacteria inside them. When they die, the bacteria gets released into the dog. Having a vet treat it is a long process that involves injecting arsenic into muscles and lots of antibiotics. Like this, his body won't just kill them, but it can kill the disease. He'll be fine by tomorrow."
Sirius let out a long, mournful noise, somewhere between a whine and a howl, loud enough that I had to turn my face away and cover my ears.
When I was sure he wasn't about to do it again, I dropped my hands. I asked Bitch, "Have you done this before?"
She shook her head. "I've used my power on most of them, but only a little, to keep them healthy. Sirius is the only one I've made this big since Angelica, Brutus, Judas and Rollo."
I almost asked who Rollo was, but I kept my mouth shut. It was a habit of mine, I found, that I usually pushed a conversation with
Bitch too far, gave her an excuse to get pissed at me. I could prioritize other things over my curiosity.
Besides, as I thought on it, I realized Rollo might've been the first dog she used her power on. The one with the body count.
"Time?" She asked.
I found my cell phone, fumbled with it to press a button and display the time. "Nine minutes past eleven."
"We'll give it fifteen minutes," she reached for the chain and held it. "Takes about that long for it to wear off."
"Okay."
"I don't need you here. If you want to be useful, there's a shovel by the door. You can go pick up the shit in the short grass over there."
"Fuck you," the words spilled out of my mouth before I could censor them. I wasn't positive I wanted to censor them, but it bugged me that I'd done it without thinking it through.
"What?" she growled at me.
"Fuck you," I repeated myself, "I came to help. Thought maybe I was helping, by pointing out what was wrong with Sirius. That doesn't mean I'm going to be your slave, or that it's an excuse to give me the worst jobs. You want me to pick up the poop? Cool, but I'll do it when you've got a shovel in your hand too, and you're working beside me."
"You told me I could hit you, free and clear, if you pissed me off," she threatened me.

Rachel's powers are very impressive on display. She can literally kill parasites by mutating her dogs. She'd have made a fortune working as a vet, if she wouldn't have chosen the thug life. She just missed her vocation

. But with her antisocial behavior, I think she wouldn't have not even a single client. Well, I'm happy for Sirius to be healthy again, also Taylor is pissed because Rachel is asking her to clean the place, reminding her that this is her territory and she's the Queen Bitch here. I like seeing Taylor showing her HUGE BALLS while on Rachel's territory, not caring if she's going to have a black eye next day. Gooooooooo, Taylor!!!

"Yeah, but if you do it here, for this reason, I'm hitting back," I didn't move my eyes away from hers, even as every awkward part of me twitched to look away and leave. If she really did default to interpreting social interactions in dog terms, then eye contact was important. I didn't know much about animals, about dogs, but I did know that it was the submissive dog, the dog lower on the totem pole, that backed down.
"I've got Brutus, you wouldn't win the fight," she told me.
Almost definitely true, I thought. But I couldn't give in. I resisted the urge to look at Brutus and told her, my voice low, "You want to go there? Try it."
She set her jaw, stared at me for several long moments. Then Sirius made a noise, a smaller version of that whimpering howl he'd made earlier, and she turned her head.
I waited a minute, watching as Sirius got the strength to struggle again, nearly standing up, before the weight of the other two dogs pressed him down again.
"Bitch- Rachel. I'm getting the impression you might be here a while, to keep an eye on Sirius, give him some attention after he's back to normal so he knows everything's okay?"

"What about it?" Her voice was hard, and she didn't look my way.
"Do you want me to pick up something for lunch, so you can stay here with him?"
"…Fine."
"You know this area better than I do. Where-" I stopped. I needed to convey more self confidence than simply asking her for the info. She might even see it as begging. I told her, "Tell me where to go."
I was crossing my fingers she wouldn't go nuts over me giving her an order.
She was too preoccupied with watching Sirius to argue with me. "There's a Greek food stand if you walk in the direction of the Boardwalk. You'll smell it before you see it."
"Okay. What do you want?"
"Anything with meat."
"I'll be back," I told her.
She didn't reply, leaving me to make my way through the crowd of dogs to the front door. I stuck my shaking hands into my pockets and headed off to grab our lunch, leaving Bitch with the monster in chains.

No fight yet. Rachel is angry but she also have to admit that there more important problems to take care of than showing her muscles in front of a girl who already kicked her ass once. Taylor left to buy food and everything seems peaceful and smooth so far

. Why do I have this bad feeling that something bad might happen during the next couple of chapters? Maybe because Worm is that kind of story where good things don't last too much?

Good night and sleep well, animals owners and animals lovers.

Let's read Worm and its sequel Ward by Wildbow (One chapter/every day)

SPACE!

Totally not four rats in a trench coat

Rocking the life

SPACE!

Totally not four rats in a trench coat

SPACE!

SPACE!

Totally not four rats in a trench coat

Banned Forever

SPACE!

SPACE!

Rocking the life