A good friend of mine convinced me (since she knows how much I LOVE superhero stories+ horror/dark/twisted/demented stories) to create an account here in order to review a work of fiction that she liked very, very much. Namely Worm byWildbow or, on his real name, John Charles Mccrae, described by her as a crazy/dark SF superhero web serial . I never heard about this author before and I'm pretty curious about this web serial, since the only things I know so far about it are the following: its a dark story, it is followed by a sequel that isn't finished at this time, it has an introverted teen girl with bug powers (named Taylor) as its main protagonist and a lot of twists and turns that will probably surprise me. That's all I know (from what my friend told me). So, I'll give it a chance and let's see if I'll be impressed by it or not. And even if I'll not like that much, I'll still continue to read it and post reviews (I don't give up so easy, especially since I know that there are people who were watching me and wait for my posts, I'd hate to disappoint).
One chapter/each day (but sometimes might get delayed for no more than two day, depends of how I feel next day or if I'm too busy to read/review next chapter). But I'll previously announce/or apologize afterwards if something like this will happen.
PS: Sorry for my spelling mistakes, englidh is not my first language.
Ok, my dear watchers, I'm going to start today with the first chapter of Worm, called Gestation 1.01 | Worm. Hmmm, Gestation means carrying of a fetus in the uterus of a human or animal female, its related to pregnancy. I wonder if this chapter is about Taylor's mother's pregnancy and how a possible external factor, like a great sock, or maybe she took some wrong medication/drugs, an action that probably affected her pregnancy and gave Taylor her bug control superpowers. It would be an interesting start. So...let's go.
Class ended in five minutes and all I could think was, an hour is too long for lunch. Since the start of the semester, I had been looking forward to the part of Mr. Gladly's World Issues class where we'd start discussing capes. Now that it had finally arrived, I couldn't focus.
Hmmm...I was wrong with my predictions. At least so far. Taylor is in her teen years, and her story started with her being at school and being unable to focus at what her teacher is teaching. Maybe, later, its going to be a flashback involving the story of how Taylor got her powers. I hope so.
So, her story is told from the first person point of view. Nice, I like the first person point of view better than the third person. Its more intimate and help you to relate with the character better. The teacher is a man (wow, I'm pretty good at guessing someone's obvious gender lol) and is named Gladly. They discuss capes. Maybe its a fashion related term but I have no idea how fits to World Issues class. Or maybe is about Cape (geography). Better fitting.
I fidgeted, my pen moving from hand to hand, tapping, or absently drawing some figure in the corner of the page to join the other doodles. My eyes were restless too, darting from the clock above the door to Mr. Gladly and back to the clock. I wasn't picking up enough of his lesson to follow along. Twenty minutes to twelve; five minutes left before class ended.
Taylor is impatient, nervous, its seems like she doesn't like at all the discussions in class. Maybe, she isn't into fashion. Or hates geography. Anyway, Taylor, relax, it can't be so bad. There are things WORSE than geography. Like math...and Hell.
He was animated, clearly excited about what he was talking about, and for once, the class was listening. He was the sort of teacher who tried to be friends with his students, the sort who went by "Mr. G" instead of Mr. Gladly. He liked to end class a little earlier than usual and chat with the popular kids, gave lots of group work so others could hang out with their friends in class, and had 'fun' assignments like mock trials.
This Mr. G (I'll call him like this, ok?), seems like a very nice and friendly teacher. He reminds me of one of my teachers, back at school. My History teacher was friends with all his students, accepted everyone, encouraged everyone, worked hard to make students accept each other and work together (with all our differences, problems and different opinions). One of the greatest men I have the pleasure to have as my teacher and mentor. Love how this story is throwing me in the sweet arms of melancholy, starting with the first chapter. A good start, I can tell.
He struck me as one of the 'popular' kids who had become a teacher. He probably thought he was everyone's favorite. I wondered how he'd react if he heard my opinion on the subject.
But Taylor doesn't share my opinion about this kind of teacher. She seems like she doesn't like him. Why Taylor? He was unfair to you? He did something that bothered you? He treated you different?
Would it shatter his self image or would he shrug it off as an anomaly from the gloomy girl that never spoke up in class? I glanced over my shoulder. Madison Clements sat two rows to my left and two seats back.
Ok, so Taylor admits herself that she's gloomy. Emo kind of, you know (I don't have anything against emo type, it was just an ascertainment). And she's the quiet type. Introverted. Like my friend told me she's. We have a new name, Madison Clements. A girl. I doubt that she's Taylor's best friend, cause she doesn't seem the friendly type. So, who are you, Madison, and why Taylor pays attention to you rather than to your teacher?
She saw me looking and smirked, her eyes narrowing, and I lowered my eyes to my notebook. I tried to ignore the ugly, sour feeling that stewed in my stomach. I glanced up at the clock. Eleven-forty-three. "Let me wrap up here," Mr. Gladly said, "Sorry, guys, but there is homework for the weekend. Think about capes and how they've impacted the world around you. Make a list if you want, but it's not mandatory.
Madison is not a friend, she's more like a bully since Taylor clearly doesn't like her. Maybe she bullied Taylor everytime she had the occasion. HATE bullies. Taylor has powers. She should shove worms in her bullies' nostrils and mouths and teach them a thing or two about making fun on the expense of innocent people.
FUCKING BULLIES.
Just...fuck them!
On Monday we'll break up into groups of four and see what group has the best list. I'll buy the winning group treats from the vending machine." There were a series of cheers, followed by the classroom devolving into noisy chaos. The room was filled with sounds of binders snapping shut, textbooks and notebooks being slammed closed, chairs screeching on cheap tile and the dull roar of emerging conversation. A bunch of the more social members of the class gathered around Mr. Gladly to chat.
The class ended with Mr. G giving homework to his students and promising to buy them treats. Great professor is great, already Mr. G is my favorite character so far (maybe my opinion about him will change, in time, but so far...I like him quite a lot).
Me? I just put my books away and kept quiet. I'd written down almost nothing in the way of notes; there were collections of doodles spreading across the page and numbers in the margins where I'd counted down the minutes to lunch as if I was keeping track of the timer on a bomb. Madison was talking with her friends. She was popular, but not gorgeous in the way the stereotypical popular girls on TV were. She was 'adorable', instead. Petite. She played up the image with sky blue pins in her shoulder length brown hair and a cutesy attitude. Madison wore a strapless top and denim skirt, which seemed absolutely moronic to me given the fact that it was still early enough in the spring that we could see our breath in the mornings.
Be happy, Taylor, this torture class finished and you're free to do as you please, until the next one, who might be more exciting for you. Next, a description of her bully, Madison (Fuck you, Madison! I don't even know you and i already dislike you with a passion). Because, from Taylor's description, she seems more like the super annoying queen bee that every class has, unfortunately.
I wasn't exactly in a position to criticize her. Boys liked her and she had friends, while the same was hardly true for me. The only feminine feature I had going for me was my dark curly hair, which I'd grown long. The clothes I wore didn't show skin, and I didn't deck myself out in bright colors like a bird showing off its plumage. Guys liked her, I think, because she was appealing without being intimidating.
If they only knew.
The bell rang with a lilting ding-dong, and I was the first one out the door. I didn't run, but I moved at a decent clip as I headed up the stairwell to the third floor and made my way to the girl's washroom. There were a half dozen girls there already, which meant I had to wait for a stall to open up. I nervously watched the door of the bathroom, feeling my heart drop every time someone entered the room.
Madiason was popular, like any respectable queen bee is. The boys liked her, the girls wanted to be like her, etc, etc. On the other side, Taylor is that tomboy who doesn't even try to fit to the stereotypes around her (as a tomboy myself, I can relate her regard of this). Fuck stereotypes, everyone should be how they feel like (as long as they're not bullies, jerk-asses or criminals).
As soon as there was a free stall, I let myself in and locked the door. I leaned against the wall and exhaled slowly. It wasn't quite a sigh of relief. Relief implied you felt better. I wouldn't feel better until I got home. No, I just felt less uneasy. It took maybe five minutes before the noise of others in the washroom stopped. A peek below the partitions showed that there was nobody else in the other stalls. I sat on the lid of the toilet and got my brown bag lunch to begin eating.
An introverted emo tomboy who eats in the toilet. Wow! Girl, there's something very wrong with you. You either have some emotional issues that make you feel like you don't belong to any group of people around you (you prefer to rather eat in a dirty environment like toilet than in other people's company) or you're bullied so much by all your colleagues that you're afraid to spent the time between classes in their company. Either way, I feel pity towards you, you don't deserve this shit.
Lunch on the toilet was routine now. Every school day, I would finish off my brown bag lunch, then I'd do homework or read a book until lunch hour was over. The only book in my bag that I hadn't already read was called 'Triumvirate', a biography of the leading three members of the Protectorate. I was thinking I would spend as long as I could on Mr. Gladly's assignment before reading, because I wasn't enjoying the book. Biographies weren't my thing, and they were especially not my thing when I was suspicious it was all made up. Whatever my plan, I didn't even have a chance to finish my pita wrap. The door of the bathroom banged open. I froze. I didn't want to rustle the bag and clue anyone into what I was doing, so I kept still and listened. I couldn't make out the voices. The noise of the conversation was obscured by giggling and the sound of water from the sinks. There was a knock on the door, making me jump. I ignored it, but the person on the other side just repeated the knock.
She likes (or she's forced to "like") eating in the toilet and read books, except for biographies. Good details over her preferences. Hmmm, 3 leading members of the Protectorate? Sounds like a super-police or army from future. Maybe they're in the future or in a parallel world and they need Protectorate against enemies coming from outside the country or even inside criminal elements.
Maybe Madison followed Taylor and saw her entering the stall. She either wants to kick Taylor's ass or have her ass kicked by Taylor (the second prediction is what I wish to happen! )
"Occupied," I called out, hesitantly. "Oh my god, it's Taylor!" one of the girls on the outside exclaimed with glee, then in response to something another girl whispered, I barely heard her add, "Yeah, do it!" I stood up abruptly, letting the brown bag with the last mouthful of my lunch fall to the tiled floor. Rushing for the door, I popped the lock open and pushed. The door didn't budge. There were noises from the stalls on either side of me, then a sound above me. I looked up to see what it was, only to get splashed in the face. My eyes started burning, and I was momentarily blinded by the stinging fluid in my eyes and my blurring of my glasses. I could taste it as it ran down to my nose and mouth. Cranberry juice. They didn't stop there. I managed to pull my glasses off just in time to see Madison and Sophia leaning over the top of the stall, each of them with plastic bottles at the ready. I bent over with my hands shielding my head just before they emptied the contents over me.
Fuck off! Queen Bee Madison (sorry to all real queen bees for comparing them with this despicable human being, but I don't have any other comparison to make right now) another bitch friends of hers decide that they'll do something "GREAT" if they'll bully Taylor by splashing her with juice while she's at toilet. Fucking bitches! Taylot, use your powers against them. Bring thousands of bees and wasps to sting them until they'll fall in their knees and beg you for mercy. Honestly, I'll not feel any pity for neither Madison or Sophia if something bad will happen to them in the future. No pity for bullies bitches (I was bullied in high school and this chapter brings me bad memories about ). I just want to hug Taylor and tell her that she's a good human being and she doesn't deserve to have some cruel people fucking with her feelings, decency and personal belongings.
It ran down the back of my neck, soaked my clothes, fizzed as it ran through my hair. I pushed against the door again, but the girl on the other side was braced against it with her body. If the girls pouring juice and soda on me were Madison and Sophia, that meant the girl on the other side of the door was Emma, leader of the trio. Feeling a flare of anger at the realization, I shoved on the door, the full weight of my body slamming against it. I didn't accomplish anything, and my shoes lost traction on the juice-slick floor. I fell to my knees in the puddling juice. Empty plastic bottles with labels for grape and cranberry juice fell to the ground around me. A bottle of orange soda bounced off my shoulder to splash into the puddle before rolling under the partition and into the next stall. The smell of the fruity drinks and sodas was sickly sweet.
"hugs Taylor and tries to protect her from evil people" So Emma, Sophia and Madison are as bad as any villains you can think about. Hell, maybe they're the villains of this first arc. Man, my friend told me that this is a dark story. I imagined that is going to be like Game of Thrones (I'M A HUGE FAN OF): crimes, rapes, human sacrifices, everyone dies, etc, etc. But....its even worse. BULLYING!!!
The door swung open, and I glared up at the three girls. Madison, Sophia and Emma. Where Madison was cute, a late bloomer, Sophia and Emma were the types of girls that fit the 'prom queen' image. Sophia was dark skinned, with a slender, athletic build she'd developed as a runner on the school track team. Red-headed Emma, by contrast, had all the curves the guys wanted. She was good looking enough to get occasional jobs as a amateur model for the catalogs that the local department stores and malls put out. The three of them were laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world, but the sounds of their amusement barely registered with me. My attention was on the faint roar of blood pumping in my ears and an urgent, ominous crackling 'sound' that wouldn't get any quieter or less persistent if I covered my ears with my hands. I could feel dribbles running down my arms and back, still chilled from the refrigerated vending machines.
The band of bitches: Sophia is the athletic, sport bitch, Emma is the fashion model bitch (also, surprising enough, the leader of the trio of bitches) and Madison is the queen bee bitch. And they're laughing, proud of what they did. Hope you'll all have a heart attack and fall with your ugly faces into the puddle. On the other side, Taylor feels the urge to use her powers against them.
I didn't trust myself to say something that wouldn't give them fodder to taunt me with, so I kept silent. Carefully, I climbed to my feet and turned my back on them to get my backpack off the top of the toilet. Seeing it gave me pause. It had been a khaki green, before, but now dark purple blotches covered it, most of the contents of a bottle of grape juice. Pulling the straps around my shoulders, I turned around. The girls weren't there. I heard the bathroom door bang shut, cutting off the sounds of their glee, leaving me alone in the bathroom, drenched. I approached the sink and stared at myself in the scratched, stained mirror that was bolted above it. I had inherited a thin lipped, wide, expressive mouth from my mother, but my large eyes and my gawky figure made me look a lot more like my dad. My dark hair was soaked enough that it clung to my scalp, neck and shoulders. I was wearing a brown hooded sweatshirt over a green t-shirt, but colored blotches of purple, red and orange streaked both. My glasses were beaded with the multicolored droplets of juice and soda. A drip ran down my nose and fell from the tip to land in the sink. Using a paper towel from the dispenser, I wiped my glasses off and put them on again. The residual streaks made it just as hard to see, if not worse than it had been. Deep breaths, Taylor, I told myself.
The bitches left and Taylor refused to fight back (she has the patience of a SAINT, I swear to God). We have a description of Taylor, I personally find her more pretty than those bitches, because the beauty is not limited only at looks (its my opinion, don't shoot me!). And those bitches are HORRIBLE inside their hearts.
I pulled the glasses off to clean them again with a wet towel, and found the streaks were still there. An inarticulate scream of fury and frustration escaped my lips, and I kicked the plastic bucket that sat just beneath the sink, sending it and the toilet brush inside flying into the wall. When that wasn't enough, I pulled off my backpack and used a two-handed grip to hurl it. I wasn't using my locker anymore: certain individuals had vandalized or broken into it on four different occasions. My bag was heavy, loaded down with everything I'd anticipated needing for the day's classes. It crunched audibly on impact with the wall. "What the fuck!?" I screamed to nobody in particular, my voice echoing in the bathroom. There were tears in the corners of my eyes. "The hell am I supposed to do!?" I wanted to hit something, break something. To retaliate against the unfairness of the world. I almost struck the mirror, but I held back. It was such a small thing that it felt like it would make me feel more insignificant instead of venting my frustration. I'd been enduring this from the very first day of high school, a year and a half ago. The bathroom had been the closest thing I could find to refuge. It had been lonely and undignified, but it had been a place I could retreat to, a place where I was off their radar. Now I didn't even have that.
She's angry, pissed and she has all the right to act like this. Even if she'd have destroyed the mirror, I wouldn't have point an accusing finger to her. A year and a half of bullying, this is something I wouldn't wish not even to my worst enemies. Poor soul, she has nowhere to go, nowhere to escape from this nightmare. I wonder if her parents know what is going on at school. Did she told them something? Did they care enough to help their daughter with her issues?
I didn't even know what I was supposed to do for my afternoon classes. Our midterm project for art was due, and I couldn't go to class like this. Sophia would be there, and I could just imagine her smug smile of satisfaction as I showed up looking like I'd botched an attempt to tie-dye everything I owned. Besides, I'd just thrown my bag against the wall and I doubted my project was still in one piece. The buzzing at the edge of my consciousness was getting worse. My hands shook as I bent over and gripped the edge of the sink, let out a long, slow breath, and let my defenses drop. For three months, I'd held back. Right now? I didn't care anymore. I shut my eyes and felt the buzzing crystallize into concrete information. As numerous as stars in the night sky, tiny knots of intricate data filled the area around me. I could focus on each one in turn, pick out details. The clusters of data had been reflexively drifting towards me since I was first splashed in the face. They responded to my subconscious thoughts and emotions, as much of a reflection of my frustration, my anger, my hatred for those three girls as my pounding heart and trembling hands were. I could make them stop or direct them to move almost without thinking about it, the same way I could raise an arm or twitch a finger.
She's using her powers. Finally. We're going to see her bug powers in action. Maybe she'll call an army of bugs and order them to leave the bathroom and fuck the trio of bitches of. I imagine them screaming, while running away from a swarm of bugs , being utterly defenseless against this TERROR. What a sweet, sweet imagine. Taylor, do it, please, do it, turn this dark chapter in something very happy to read about!
I opened my eyes. I could feel adrenaline thrumming through my body, blood coursing in my veins. I shivered in response to the chilled soft drinks and juices the trio had poured over me, with anticipation and with just a little fear. On every surface of the bathroom were bugs; Flies, ants, spiders, centipedes, millipedes, earwigs, beetles, wasps and bees. With every passing second, more streamed in through the open window and the various openings in the bathroom, moving with surprising speed. Some crawled in through a gap where the sink drain entered the wall while others emerged from the triangular hole in the ceiling where a section of foam tile had broken off, or from the opened window with peeling paint and cigarette butts squished out in the recesses. They gathered around me and spread out over every available surface; primitive bundles of signals and responses, waiting for further instruction.
She seems to have great control over her power, maybe she trained herself, at her house (possible in her basement) in a way that made her able to control so many bugs without feeling tired, without sensory overload and without turning, by mistake, the insects against herself. Someone needs a lot of mental training to mind control so many living beings (even if they're so small). Kudos, Taylor, you're great so far! In more than just one way.
My practice sessions, conducted away from prying eyes, told me I could direct a single insect to move an antennae, or command the gathered horde to move in formation. With one thought, I could single out a particular group, maturity or species from this jumble and direct them as I wished. An army of soldiers under my complete control. It would be so easy, so easy to just go Carrie on the school. To give the trio their just desserts and make them regret what they had put me through: the vicious e-mails, the trash they'd upended over my desk, the flute –my mother's flute– they'd stolen from my locker. It wasn't just them either. Other girls and a small handful of boys had joined in, 'accidentally' skipping over me when passing out assignment handouts, adding their own voices to the taunts and the flood of nasty emails, to get the favor and attention of three of the prettier and more popular girls in our grade.
So, she trainedher powers, I was right about. I think she can ever switch off the insect's instinctual behavior, in a way that they'll stop feeling the need to fly around the light or mate everytime when Taylor needs them to do her deeds. Maybe she instinctual know everything about the bugs she's using, maybe its a part of her power (she mind control them and gets knowledge about their behavior/species).
Good comparison with Carrie (loved the book and the 1976 movie), but unlike Carrie, who kicked some serious asses there, including her religious bitch mothers, Taylor doesn't do anything so far. Nothing at all. Its both admirable and frustrating. But more frustrating than admirable!
I was all too aware that I'd get caught and arrested if I attacked my fellow students. There were three teams of superheroes and any number of solo heroes in the city. I didn't really care. The thought of my father seeing the aftermath on the news, his disappointment in me, his shame? That was more daunting, but it still didn't outweigh the anger and frustration. Except I was better than that. With a sigh, I sent an instruction to the gathered swarm. Disperse. The word wasn't as important as the idea behind it. They began to exit the room, disappearing into the cracks in the tile and through the open window. I walked over to the door and stood with my back to it so nobody could stumble onto the scene before the bugs were all gone.
Now, I understand why she can't use her powers. Because the whole city is filled with super powered people who are drastically kept under control by Protectorate, I suppose. So, its a parallel world. A world where some people have superpowers, maybe they're mutants, like in X-Men. They have a mutated gene who allow them to control a superpower. Yes, this is great, awesome, formidable., better than I expected. I like the way where this story is going. I'll definitely continue to read it.
However much I wanted to, I couldn't really follow through. Even as I trembled with humiliation, I managed to convince myself to pick up my backpack and head down the hall. I made my way out of the school, ignoring the stares and giggles from everyone I walked past, and caught the first bus that headed in the general direction of home. The chill of early spring compounded the discomfort of my soaked hair and clothes, making me shiver. I was going to be a superhero. That was the goal I used to calm myself down at moments like these. It was what I used to make myself get out of bed on a school day. It was a crazy dream that made things tolerable. It was something to look forward to, something to work towards. It made it possible to keep from dwelling on the fact that Emma Barnes, leader of the trio, had once been my best friend.
You're a very strong person. Not because of your powers, but because of your strength of character. I ADMIRE you so much. My hat's off to you, beautiful and powerful young lady! You're already a superhero in my books, whatever you'll choose to do in the future.
Emma Barnes, your best friend, BETRAYED you, maybe to gain some popularity by befriending the Queen Bee Madison. She was NEVER a true friend, friends never betray each other. She's a bitch who deserves a fist of bees shove down her throat. Don't be sad, Taylor. I'm sure you'll find TRUE friends who'll respect you and be loyal and good to you. The world is not composed only of "people" like Emma or Madison. The world can be a bit better than this.
Love this first chapter. Can't wait to start the next one, Gestation 1.02. So...see you next day, my lovely and patient watches (sorry for the weird format, I'm still trying to get used with this site, its new to me. Thank you for understanding).
Hello, my dears, and welcome to a new chapter that just waits to be reviewed by me. Its called 1.02 | Worm and maybe we'll find here what Taylor will do right after she'll come home from school. How will she explains her destroyed clothes and backpack to her parents? Will she tells her parents about the bullying problem? Will they help her? Let's read and see.
"My thoughts were on Emma on the bus ride home. For an outside observer, I think it's easy to trivialize the importance of a 'best friend', but when you're a kid, there's nobody more important. Emma had been my 'BFF' from grade one all the way through middle school. It hadn't been enough for us to spend our time together at school, so we had alternated staying at each others houses every weekend. I remember my mother saying that we were so close we were practically sisters.
WARNING and apologize in advance: I like to over-analyze characters, even if they're minor ones. I'm fascinated by human (or alien, regarding to the work of fiction) behavior and I'll always over-think each character I read about so...apologize if my over-analyze will be too boring for you, but this is how I roll. Thank you for being patient with me and reading further my reviews, despite not liking me talking so much about characters.
So, I'm still under the impression that Emma was influenced by Madison to destroy her ties with Taylor. i can see Madison as a mastermind (even if she's not a leader, but not all masterminds are leaders and not all leaders are masterminds) and she manipulates the girls to do her biding. Both Madison and Emma seem to be too rotten to ever expect a change of their heart. Sophia seems to be the least rotten one, but I still don't know her good enough to make a certain impression about her. Also, Taylor, Emma doesn't deserve to think about her, just ignore her completely. She was never your friend.
So when I got back from nature camp just a week before our first year at high school started, to find that she wasn't talking to me? That she was calling Sophia her best friend? Discovering that she was now using every one of those secrets and vulnerabilities I had shared with her to wound me in the most vicious ways she could think of? It was crushing. There's just no better way to say it.
Unwilling to dwell on it any longer, I turned my attention to my backpack, setting it on the seat beside me and sorting through the contents. Grape juice had stained it, and I had a suspicion I would have to get a new one. I had bought it just four months ago, after my old one had been taken from my locker, and it had been just twelve bucks, so it wasn't a huge issue. The fact that my notebooks, textbooks and the two novels I'd shoved into my bag were wet with grape juice was more troubling. I suspected that whichever girl had been holding the grape juice had aimed for the open top of my bag as she poured it. I noted the destruction of my art project – the box I'd put it in was collapsed on the one side. That bit was my fault. My heart sank as I found the notebook with the white and black speckled hardcover. The corner of the paper was soaked through with as much as a quarter of each page stained purple. The ink had diluted and the pages were already turning wavy.
Ok, I was wrong, Sophia kind of manipulated Emma into cutting her ties with Taylor, not Madison. But I still think that behind all this bullshit, Madison is the one who make the games. All of them!
Head up, Taylor, you can replace your material stuff, you can buy a third backpack, you can buy new notebooks, even new novels. There's nothing you can't replace, except for the gifts you received from the loved ones, or stuff that bring you good memories.
That notebook was – had been – my notes and journal for my hero career. The testing and training I'd done with my powers, pages of crossed out name ideas, even the measurements I was using for my costume in progress. After Emma, Madison and Sophia had stolen my last backpack and stuffed it in a wastebasket, I had realized how big a danger it was to have everything written down like that. I had copied everything over into a new notebook in a simple cipher and wrote it bottom to top. Now that notebook was spoiled, and I was looking at having to copy some two hundred pages of detailed writing into a new notebook if I wanted to preserve the information. If I could even remember what was on all of the ruined pages.
Oh, this is bad. The notebook, her HERO NOTEBOOK, can't be replaced so easy. Poor you, Taylor, all your work destroyed in like few seconds. Fuck those bitches! But why did you took it in hell...SORRY, I mean SCHOOL? You should have left it at home, not take with you, to be destroyed like this. But I think i know her reason for doing that. This notebook is an constant reminder that she'll become a hero, that she'll do heroic stuff and if she'll ever stop holding it so close to her, then her daydream of being a hero might be crushed, and because of this she might lose her control over her powers and hurt non-criminal elements (cause I just can't call those bitches innocent people). The notebook is like a barrier between her rage and her bullies, a barrier that stop her from screwing them up, reminding her that she's a hero in her heart and heroes should not be vengeful.
The bus stopped a block away from my house, and I got off, trying to ignore the stares. Even with the gawking, the knowledge that my notebook was ruined and my general nervousness about missing afternoon classes without permission, I felt better as I got closer to home. It felt worlds better to know I could drop my guard, stop watching my back and that I could take a break from wondering when the next incident would happen. I let myself into the house and headed straight for the shower, not even removing my backpack or taking off my shoes until I was in the bathroom.
I stood under the stream with my clothes on the floor of the tub, hoping the water would help get the worst of the juice out. I pondered. I don't know who said it, but at one point I had come across this notion about taking a negative and turning it into a positive. I tried to take the day's events and turn them around in my head, to see if I couldn't find a more positive twist on it.
Finally, she's trying to have a more positive thinking. Yes, Taylor, I'm sure you can replace your stuff. Yes, I'm sure you can even write another HERO NOTEBOOK. Yes, I'm sure you'll become a great hero and even you'll fail at being a hero, you might become a better vigilante (I know that vigilantes kill criminals but I'll not held Taylor accountable if she'll start killing people out of revenge, self defense or to stop villains from messing with innocents' lives. Actually, The Punisher is one of my favorite vigilantes and he's quite a vigilante, torturing/killing mafia men, but also protecting/saving countless of innocents. As long as Taylor protects good people and her heart is in the right place, she can be an awesome vigilante, if she wants to). Or even if you'll fail to be both, you can find loyal and good friends, and even a sweet boyfriend (or a sweet girlfriend, if you prefer this). Or if you'll ever die (judging by the fact that this story is not a light one), at least you'll die doing what you like, doing great things for society, and this will be a huge accomplishment. Don't lose hope, Taylor, never lose hope. Keep fight. Until the very end!
Okay, so the first thing that came to mind was "Yet another reason to kill the trio." It wasn't a serious thought – I was angry, but it wasn't like I was going to actually kill them. Somehow, I suspected that I'd hurt myself before I hurt them. I was humiliated, frustrated, pissed, and I always had a weapon available – my power. It was like having a loaded gun in your hand at all times. Except my power wasn't that great, so maybe it was more like having a taser. It was hard not to think about using it when things got really bad. Still, I didn't think I had that killer instinct in me.
No, I told myself, forcing myself back to the subject of positive thinking. Were there any upsides? Art project wrecked, clothes probably unrecoverable, needing a new backpack… notebook. Somehow my mind fixated on that last part. I cranked the shower to off, then toweled dry, thinking. I wrapped the towel around me, and rather than head to my room to get dressed, I put my wet clothes into a laundry hamper, grabbed my backpack and headed downstairs, through the kitchen and into the basement.
Yeeeeeeeees, I was right about going into her basement to test her powers. I wonder if her parents know about her mutation (I think they're at work since they're not home at this moment). I wonder what they believe about her powers. Maybe we're going to see a chapter from their point of view.
My house is old, and the basement was never renovated. The walls and floor are concrete and the ceiling was exposed boards and electrical cords. The furnace used to be coal fueled, and there was still an old coal chute, two feet by two feet, where the coal trucks used to come by to unload the winter's supply of coal for heating the house. The chute was boarded up, but around the time I was copying my original 'superpower notebook' over in code, I had decided to play it safe in all respects and start getting creative with my privacy. It was then that I'd started using it.
I removed one screw and removed the square wooden panel with the peeling white paint that covered the low end of the coal chute. I retrieved a gym bag from inside and put the panel back in place without screwing it back in.
I emptied the contents of the gym bag on the disused workbench that the house's previous owner had left in our basement, then opened the windows that were at the same level as the driveway and front garden. I closed my eyes and spent a minute exercising my power. I wasn't just grabbing every creepy crawly in a two block radius, though. I was being selective, and I was gathering quite a few.
We're going to see the limits of her powers. How many insects she's able to mind control? All the insects in the country? All the insects in the world? But there are billions and billions and billions of insects across the world so this scream to me as OVERPOWERED. I think its an impossible feat for a mere human being to control all the insects. But this is my opinion. Taylor can control even the insects from other worlds/planets for all I know.
The first of the spiders started coming in through the open windows and congregating on the workbench. My power didn't give me a knowledge of the official names of the bugs I was working with, but anyone could recognize the spiders that were crawling into the room. These were black widows. One of the more dangerous spiders you could find in the States. Their bite could be lethal, though it usually wasn't, and they tended to bite with little provocation. Even under my complete control, they spooked me. At my request, the dozens upon dozens of spiders got into place on the workbench and began drawing out lines of webbing, laying the lines across one another, and weaving them into one work.
Three months ago, after I'd recovered from the manifestation of my powers, I had started to prepare for the goal I had set for myself. It had involved an exercise routine, training my power, research, and preparing my costume. Costumes were harder than one might think. While members of official teams surely had sources for that stuff, the rest of us were left to either buy costumes, put them together piecemeal with stuff bought from stores or make them from scratch. Each option had its problems. If you bought a costume online, you ran the risk of being traced, which could blow your secret identity before you'd even put a costume on. You could put a costume together with stuff bought from stores, but very few people could do that and look good. The final option, putting a costume together yourself, was just a hell of a lot of work and you could run into the issues of the prior two options – being traced or winding up with a lame costume – depending on where you got your materials and how you went about it.
In the second week after I'd figured out my powers, when I still wasn't entirely sure what was going on, I had come across a segment on the discovery channel about a suit that was made to withstand attacks by bears. That segment talked about how the suit was made of synthetic spider silk, which had inspired this particular project. Why go synthetic when you can produce with the real thing? Okay, so it had been harder than that. Not just any spider worked, and the black widow spiders themselves were hard to find. They weren't typically found in the northeastern states, where it was generally colder, but I was fortunate that that key element that made Brockton Bay a tourist destination and a hotspot for capes also made it a place where black widow spiders could live, if not thrive. Namely, it was warm. Thanks to the surrounding geography and the ocean bordering us on the east, Brockton Bay had some of the mildest winters you could find in the Northeastern States, and some of the most comfortably warm summers. Both the black widows and the people running around in skintight costumes were thankful for that.
Itsy Bitsy spiders. Awww, those little cute critters, I love them so much (seriously, I had a tarantula named Oscar who, unfortunately, died ). So, she's using spiders to create a costume from webs. Great thinking, Taylor! I'm in AWE with your planning and the way you're thinking ahead everything, you're very smart and pragmatic, little lady.
With my power, I had ensured the spiders could multiply. I'd kept them in safe locations and fattened them on prey I directed straight to them. I had flipped that mental switch that told them to breed and lay eggs as if it was summer, fed more prey to the hundreds of young that had resulted and had earned countless costume spinners for my trouble. The biggest issue had been that black widows are territorial, so I'd had to spread them out to ensure they didn't kill each other when I wasn't around to control them. Once a week or so, on my morning runs, I rotated the locations of the local spiders so I had a fresh supply all filled with proteins for the production of the essential materials. This ensured that the spiders were always ready for working on the costume in the afternoon, after school.
It wasn't a great looking costume, just yet. The fabric was a dirty yellow-gray. The armored sections had been made out of finely arranged and layered shells and exoskeletons I'd cannibalized from the local insect population and then reinforced with dragline silk. In the end, the armored parts had wound up dark mottled brown-gray. I was okay with that. When the entire thing was done, I planned to dye the fabric and paint the armor. The reason I was so pleased with my costume was the fact that it was flexible, durable, and incredibly lightweight, considering the amount of armor I had put on it. At one point I had screwed up the dimensions of one of the legs, and when I tried to cut it off to start fresh, I had found I couldn't cut it with an x-acto knife. I had needed to use wire cutters, and even that had been a chore. As far as I figured, it was everything a superhero wanted for a costume.
I wonder why she doesn't contact the Protectorate for a job of superhero. Either they don't accept too young heroes, because its a pretty dangerous job for them or Taylor doesn't trust them enough (judging by the fact that she doesn't like/trust the biography of the leaders of the Protectorate) maybe she consider them as being heroes interested only in fame and money, not in actually doing disinterested heroic deeds. Hmm, possible. Now I'm more and more interested in knowing those heroes.
Also, I like how she cares for the utility, strength and resistance of her costume rather than its looks. Because the way of how good a costume looks like will never protect her from being hurt/killed, but its resistance will always come in handy at moments like these. Good thinking, Taylor!
I wasn't exactly willing to test it out, but I harbored hopes that it was bulletproof. Or at least, that the armored sections over my vital areas were.
The plan was to finish my costume over the course of the month, then as the school year ended and the summer began, I would take the leap into the world of superheroics. But the plan had changed. I took off my towel and hung it from the corner of the bench, then began pulling on my costume to test the fit for the hundredth time. The spiders obediently moved out of my way as I did so. When I had been standing in the shower, trying to find the good aspects in the day's troubles, my thoughts had turned to my notebook. I had realized I was procrastinating. I was constantly planning, preparing, considering all of the possibilities. There would always be more preparations, more stuff to study or test. The destruction of my notebook had been the burning of a bridge. I couldn't go back and copy it into a fresh book or start a new one without delaying my game plan for at least a week. I had to move forward. It was time to do it. I flexed my hand inside the glove. I'd go out next week – no. No more delays. This weekend, I would be ready.
Ready to be a hero, ready to do great things, or at least, try to do great things. You have all my support, Taylor, no matter if you'll win or fail. Just try it! Try to be a hero! Try to make difference in your life and be better than those bitches who care only about bullying you.
Tomorrow I'll continue with the next chapter (btw, if a chapter will be too long, I'll cut it in half and post a part/a day and the next part/the next day), just to let you know. Bye, have a good day/night!
I'm pretty bored at this hour so I think I'll start reviewing another chapter, this one 1.03 | Worm. Hope you don't mind, my dear, dear beautiful people. Everytime when I'll be bored or have too much free time in my hands, I'll read/review a new chapter. Especially since this story keeps me very interested and its better with each passing chapter. So...what's next? Taylor is going to do heroic stuff? How much success she'll have? She's going to catch thieves? Burglars? Stop rapists? Capture dangerous criminals? We can find out only by reading further in the chapter.
My training schedule consisted of running every morning and every other afternoon. In the process, I had picked up a pretty good knowledge of the east side of the city. Growing up in Brockton Bay, my parents had told me stuff like "stick to the Boardwalk". Even on my runs, I had scrupulously stayed on the Boardwalk and avoided the bad part of town. Now it was Sunday night and I was in costume and breaking the rules.
I had dyed and painted the costume on Friday, bought temporary costume pieces (belt, the straps for the mask and the lenses) on Saturday and finished the most necessary details over the course of my Sunday afternoon before heading out for the evening. The costume wasn't complete yet, lacking the full extent of the armor paneling I had planned out, but the armor covered the most essential areas – my face, chest, spine, stomach and major joints. The mask design featured dull yellow lenses, the only color on the black and gray costume, as well as sections of armor designed to imitate a bug's mandibles while simultaneously protecting my jaw. The mask left my hair free, which did leave the back of my head more vulnerable, but that was just one of the sacrifices I'd had to make to go out in an unfinished costume.
More description of her costume (and how much she works at having it ready for her adventurous life) also a nice description of her everyday training (besides the powers training). She seems to be good at running, which is a great idea if she'll ever meet an enemy stronger than her (maybe someone who isn't affected by insects or able to kill/paralyze them with a single glance. Who know what kind of powers people have in that world?!) and if she can't defeat them otherwise, at least she can outrun them.
It was just after midnight, and I was crossing the line between one of the nicest parts of town and the part of town where the crack whores and gangsters lived. The distance between the two was thinner than one might think.
The Boardwalk was where the tourists came. Running north-to-south along the beach, there were shops that sold dresses for over a thousand dollars, cafes with ludicrously expensive coffees and stretches of wooden walkways and beaches where tourists could get a great view of the ocean. From pretty much any point on the Docks, you could see one of Brockton Bay's landmarks, the Protectorate Headquarters. Besides being a marvel of architectural design with its arches and towers, the PHQ was a floating base of operations that a squadron of local superheroes called home, outfitted with a forcefield bubble and a missile defense system. There had never been occasion for either to be used, but I had to admit, it made you feel safer.
If you headed west from the Boardwalk, away from the water, you found yourself in the area the locals just called the 'Docks'. When the import/export business in Brockton Bay had dried up, there had been a whole lot of people who were suddenly out of work. The richest and most resourceful people in town had managed to make more money, turning the city's resources towards tech and banking, but all of the people who had been employed on the ships and in the warehouses had few options left to them. They faced leaving Brockton Bay, sticking around while scraping up what little work they could or turning to more illicit activity.
Next, a description of the city were Taylor is living. Brockton Bay (I wonder if this city exists in our real world. Since I'm not from USA, I have no idea if this city is real and in which state is located. I think I'll google it after I'll review this portion of the chapter). It seems to be a city by the sea, great to live right next to the sea (In Romania, where I live, we have Constanta, an important city from the Black Sea Coast). No wonder why tourists love Brockton Bay so much, seems like a kick-ass town. But also has its own bad elements, like gangsters and poor people. Well, like any city, nothing surprising here.
I LOVE the description of Protectorate Headquarters. It seems so Science Fiction and in the same time so fitting to a legal hero organisation (btw, Worm reminds me somehow of both X-Men and Watchmen- parallel world, superheroes, superpowers). The heroes surely have some great scientists among them who helped building this badass base. Maybe even a couple of Tony Sharks, it won't be surprising at all. Or a Shuri or two- people who saw Black Panther know who I'm talking about).
This all contributed to the boom in the local supervillain population. The potential for big money coupled with the number of eager-to-please mooks and henchmen made it the city to be for the villains in the late 90s. It took a few years for the hero presence to establish and organize themselves, but they did, and there was something of an equilibrium now. As far as cape population went, Brockton Bay wasn't in the top 5 cities in the U.S., but it was probably in the top ten.
Just moving from one block to the next, you could see the change in the area. As I made my way into the Docks, I could see the quality of my surroundings decline steeply. There were enough warehouses and apartments in the area for even the most destitute to find shelter, so the only people on the streets were unconscious drunks, whores and gang members. I steered clear of any and all people I saw and ventured further into the area. As I walked, I was using my powers to draw a swarm together, but kept them out of the way, moving just over the nearby rooftops and through the interior of buildings. Anyone paying attention to the local cockroach population might think something was up, but there weren't many lights on. I doubted most of the buildings here even had power.
I googled Brockton Bay and I discovered (unsurprising) that its a fictional town. This parallel world have the same US like our world, but maybe not the same cities. Or even states. Also, seems like a city full of villains and heroes. Taylor will not have any problem to find her first villain, I guess. She's using her powers as she walks, during the night, deep into the back heart of the city, filled with criminal elements, poverty and decadence. I know you're a superpowered individual, Taylor, but still, you're very brave to walk alone right into the danger. Very brave and a bit of irresponsible, as well.
The lack of lights in the area was what made me stop and draw myself against the side of a building when I saw a spot of orange in the dark street ahead. The orange was the flame of a lighter, and I was able to make out several faces around it. They were Asian, some wearing hoodies, others wearing headbands or long sleeved shirts, but all wore the same colors. Red and green.
I knew who these guys were. They were members from the local gang that left the tags 'Azn Bad Boys', ABB for short, all over the East end of the city. More than a few went to my school. As far as the criminal element in Brockton Bay went, they weren't small potatoes. While the typical gang members were just Koreans, Japanese, Vietnamese and Chinese forcibly recruited from Brockton Bay's high schools and lower class neighborhoods, the gang was led by a couple of people with powers. Gangs didn't tend to be that racially inclusive as far as who joined, so it said something that their leader had the ability to draw in members from so many different nationalities and keep them in line.
The street was unlit, so my ability to see was dependent on the moon and the few indoor lights that were still on and shining out onto the sidewalks. I started actively looking for their boss. There were more gang members coming out of a two-story building, and they were gathering in the street. They didn't have the atmosphere of people who were just hanging out, either. They were expressionless or scowling, and they weren't talking.
Oh, a group of villains. A band, more exactly. They're exclusive asians (something like asian supremacy, I guess? I particularly hate any supremacist/nazi like groups, no matter the color of the skin or their religion. All people should be equal, nobody should consider themselves superior to a group of people or another, there should be no such thing like white supremacy, black supremacy, asian supremacy, etc). I also noticed that not all members are willing participants, some are forced to become part of this group. I feel bad for them, poor fellas. So, who are those superpowered/mutant (I'll call them mutants until I'll get an explanation about the origins of their powers, ok?) leaders?
I spotted their boss as the gang pulled away from the door of the building to give him room. I only knew about this guy from what I had heard on the news and read online, but I recognized him immediately. He was a big guy, but not so big that he would send people running when he walked down the street, like some people with powers were. He was a little over six feet, though, which put him head and shoulders above most of the gang members. He had an ornate metal mask over his face, and wasn't wearing a shirt, despite the chill. Sprawling tattoos covered his body from the neck down, all depicting dragons from Eastern mythology.
He went by 'Lung', had successfully gone toe to toe with whole teams of heroes and had managed to keep himself out of jail, as evidenced by his presence here. As for his powers, I only knew what I could scrounge up online, and there were no guarantees there. I mean, for all I knew, he could have misled people about what his powers did, he could have a power he was keeping up his sleeve for an emergency, or he could even have a very subtle power that people couldn't see at work. The information online and in the papers had told me this: Lung could gradually transform. Maybe it was based on adrenaline, his emotional state, or something, but whatever it was, it made his powers more potent the longer he was in a fight. He healed at a superhuman rate, got stronger, got tougher, got bigger, and he grew armor plating complete with blades at each fingertip. Rumor had it that he even grew wings if he fought long enough. If that wasn't enough, he was a pyrokinetic, which meant he could create flame out of thin air, shape it, intensify it, and so on. That power apparently got stronger as he transformed, too. As far as I knew, there wasn't an upper limit to how strong he could get. He only started returning to normal when there was nobody left to fight.
Since I'm a BIG fan of mythology (any mythology) I know what Lung means even before I'll have to google it. Its a type of dragon found in chinese mythology so its not hard to see that this supervillain calls himself dragon in chinese. And he basically turns into some kind of cyborg dragon, who can fly, summon fire and have super strength+ he can regenerate very fast. Wow, wow, what a guy! Are you sure you want to fight him, Taylor? Because, according to a little logical thinking, FIRE is always > to insects. He'll burn them, besides he'll heal in no time even with all the bitings and stingings you're going to expose him at.
Lung wasn't the only one with powers in the ABB. He had a flunky, a scary sociopath called Oni Lee, who could teleport or create doubles of himself – I wasn't a hundred percent sure on the details – but Oni Lee had a distinctive look, and I didn't see him in the crowd. If there was anyone else with powers that I needed to watch out for, I hadn't seen or heard anything about them in my research.
Lung began talking in a deep, commanding voice. I couldn't make out the words, but it sounded like he was giving instructions. As I watched, one of the gang members drew a butterfly knife from his pocket, and another of them put his hand on his waistband. Between the gloom and the fact that I was standing half a block away, I couldn't see well, but a dark shape stood out against his green t-shirt. Chances were it was a gun handle. My pulse sped up a bit as I saw the gun, which was silly. Lung was more dangerous than fifty people with guns.
I decided to move away from where I was and find a better vantage point to monitor their conversation, which seemed like a good compromise between my curiosity and my self preservation. I slowly backed away from where I was, glancing over my shoulder to make sure nobody was watching, and then circled around the rear of the building I was lurking beside. My investigation paid off. Halfway down the alley, I saw a fire escape that was leading up the back of the building that Lung and his gang were standing in front of. The feet of my costume had soft soles, so I was nearly silent as I ascended.
All the asian supremacists bandits are armed, but nobody seem to be more dangerous that Lung and his lieutenant, Oni Lee (judging by his name, he must be another chinese man) who can teleport around (or summon clones), is sociopath and probably can stab someone from behind with no problems at all (its enough for him to just appears behind someone, says Ni Hao (hello in mandarin), if he feels like being polite with his victim, then stab-stab-stab). The good news: Oni Lee is not there (on the moment). The bad news: Lung doesn't even need Oni Lee and their mooks to possible win a first fight against Taylor. I wish her all the good luck, but...
Being at the top of a two story building when they were on the ground floor made it hard to hear them. Lung had a strong accent, as well, which meant I had to wait until he had spoken a few sentences before I could figure out what he was saying. It helped that his mooks were utterly, respectfully silent as he spoke.
Lung was snarling, "…the children, just shoot. Doesn't matter your aim, just shoot. You see one lying on the ground? Shoot the little bitch twice more to be sure. We give them no chances to be clever or lucky, understand?"
There was a murmur of assent.
Someone else lit up a cigarette, and then leaned over to light a cigarette for the guy next to him. In those moments that his hand wasn't cupped around the flame, I could see the gathered faces of just a dozen or so of the gangsters gathered around Lung. In hands, waistbands and holsters, I could see the dark metal of guns reflecting the orange flame. If I had to hazard a guess, all of them had weapons.
They were going to kill kids?
...but she has to try at least, because this bastard Lung and his people want to kill INNOCENT CHILDREN. Fucking assholes, why do you want to kill children? Maybe they're referring at young asians who refused to become part of their despicable gang. They're mad because not everyone are afraid of them or share their ideas/opinions, and they want to punish them for their "crime" to have their own free will and ideas. What a bunch of jerkfaces!!! Taylor, even if you'll fail against Lung, at least try to screw as many of his bandits as possible, enough to teach them a lesson and maybe even stop them from killing kids. Here we go, the next chapter will be an awesome fight between a superhero wannabe sitting on the roof a building and a bunch of child-murderous assholes+ their Dragon down the street. Exciting, can't wait!!!
Hello, dearests. I think this is the RIGHT time for the next review, chapter 1.04 | Worm. We're going to see our first fight between our main character and the first superpowered villain (not exactly the first villain, because we saw the Trio of Bitches in action and they're pretty villainous, except they don't have superpowers). Now lets see who'll kick who's ass. Either Taylor will kick a Dragon's ass or Lung will kick a Bug Queen's ass (this seems like a good superhero name for Taylor- Bug Queen. Or even BETTER -Hive Mind, since she can control so many bugs' minds in the time)?
I felt a chill. A part of me really wished that I had thought to get my hands on a disposable cell phone. I didn't have a utility belt, but the spade shaped section of armor that hung over my spine hid a set of EpiPens, a pen and notepad, a tube of pepper spray meant to hang off a key chain and a zippered pouch of chalk dust. I could have fit a cell phone back there. With a cell phone, I could have alerted the real heroes about the fact that Lung was planning to take a score of his flunkies to go and shoot kids.
At least, that's what I had heard. I was in a state of disbelief, turning the words around in my head to think of a different context that would make sense of it. It wasn't so much the fact that he would do something like that. I just had a hard time wrapping my head around the idea that anyone would.
Lung answered a question for one of his gang members, lapsing briefly into another language. He grabbed one of his minion's arms and twisted it to an angle where he could get a look at the guy's watch, so I guessed it had something to do with their timing or when they were leaving. The gang member who'd had his arm twisted winced as Lung let it go, but didn't complain.
Lung is one aggressive motherfucker. He's violent with his own mooks, he treats them bad (I still feel very sorry for the mooks who were forced to be part of ABB, but I don't have any pity for the ones who're willingly gangsters, they're just plain jerkasses who think that is better to act like an asshole than to try to be a a good and useful member of your society. People can always choose, when they have this possibility. If they choose what is bad for them and the others around them, then fuck them!...With dedication). On the other side, Taylor, you should be not surprised that there are people willing to kill children. Yes, there are very bad people in the world, like people who rape, people who kill, cannibals, terrorists, even people who kill THEN rape, so don't be surprised that you meet one ready to kill kids. I won't be surprised either if later Taylor will have to stop a superpowered pedophile cannibalistic serial killer. Not at all! This is something I'm expecting to happen. But, on a positive note, there are also good and well-meaning people, like Taylor and Mr. G, and maybe Taylor's parents (I don't know them yet, but I hold hope that they aren't bad people. Taylor doesn't need assholes at her home as well).
What was I supposed to do? I doubted I could find any place in the Docks that would be willing to let me inside to use their phone. If I headed to the Boardwalk, I wasn't sure I would find any places that were still open, and I didn't have change for a payphone. That was another oversight I would have to correct for the next time I went out. Cell phone, spare change.
A car pulled up, and another three guys dressed in gang colors got out and and joined the crowd. Shortly after, the group – twenty or twenty five in total – started walking north, passing below me as they walked down the street. I was out of time to consider my options. As much as I didn't want to face it, there was really only one option that I could have no regrets about. I shut my eyes and focused on every bug on the neighborhood, including the sizable swarm I had gathered on the way into the Docks. I took control of each of them. Attack.
Yes, cell phone is very important in your heroic adventures. But I hope that everything will ends well, without you being injured. Or....being too bad injured. You're going to attack them right? Use your insects and fuck them up. You can command your bugs to sting ABB mooks until they'll either surrender or run away. Then you can attack Lung, after he'll be all alone. But...WATCH YOUR BACK, Taylor. Oni Lee might appear at any given moment behind you and try to hurt you. Teleporters are some very dangerous people to fight with.
It was dark enough that I could only tell where the swarm was with my power. That meant I couldn't even tune out the swarm if I wanted to have any idea about what was going on. My brain was filled with horrendous amounts of information, as I sensed each bite, each sting. As the thousands of insects and arachnids swarmed over and around the group, I could almost see the outlines of each person, just by sensing the shapes of the surfaces the bugs were crawling on, or the areas the vermin wasn't occupying. I focused on keeping the more venomous types at bay for the time being – I didn't need any allergic thugs going into anaphylactic shock from a bee sting or getting serious complications from the bite of a brown recluse spider.
I sensed the fire through the swarm before I realized what I was looking at with my eyes. My power told me of the bugs' recognition of the heat, but I didn't even have time to devote conscious thought to block out the instincts the fire set in motion before the damage was done. The primitive thought processes of my bugs were reduced to confused impulses to alternately flee and to pursue the heat and the light they so often used for navigation. Many bugs died or were crippled by the heat. From my vantage point, I could see Lung lashing out with streams of fire from his hands, directing them at the sky.
I suppressed a laugh, feeling heady with adrenaline. Was that all he could do? I directed the swarm to gather, so those who weren't already biting and stinging were in the midst of the gang. If he wanted to turn his flames on the swarm, he would have to set his own people on fire.
So, Taylor can feel everything her bugs are feeling. If they feel heat, she feels heat, if they're cold, she's cold, if they feel pain, she also feels pain (yes, insects can feel pain, they have a simple nervous system and they respond to strong mechanical stimuli, scientifically proven). This is not good, because, if an enemy with the ability to cause pain with a single touch will be attacked by Taylor with her insects, they can simply touch Taylor's insects and transfer pain to her through the insects. SCARY! At least, the bugs died being fried by a very angry Chinese Dragon and she didn't had time enough to feel any pain. But even so, this is bad because he'll decimate the entire swarm and then Taylor will be defenseless. I'm sure she'll call other insects in her help, but maybe she can't be so fast before Lung will fly on the roof and discover her.
The heated air and the smells gave me enough information, by way of my insects, to tell where Lung was in the crowd. I took a deep breath, and then sent in the reserves. I took a share of the venomous types I'd held at bay and directed them to Lung. A handful of bees, wasps, a number of the more poisonous spiders, like black widows and brown recluses, and dozens of fire ants.
He healed fast when his power was working. Everything I'd read online said that people with healing abilities would shrug off the effects of poisons or drugs, so I knew I'd have to pump him full of enough venom to overwhelm that aspect of his power. Besides, he was a big guy. I judged he could take it. From the information that I could glean from my bugs, Lung already had maybe a quarter of his body covered in armor. Triangular sections of metallic plating were piercing through his skin, where they would continue to grow and overlap until he was nigh impenetrable. If they weren't already, his fingertips and toes would become like blades or metal claws.
Lung is already turning into a Cyborg Dragon. Next he'll grow wings and fly to the roof, I have a bad feeling he'll do that. Taylor, use as many insects as you can. Work fast. Fill him with enough venom to stop his healing, even if you have to KILL him. He's a murderer and a psycho, he'll kill you if he'll discover you, you have to defend yourself. At least his mooks are fucked, but he still remains the main player. Fuck, what if Oni Lee will enter in action too? This is the right moment for him to shine, help his boss and destroy a young heroine's any hopes for a victory . I won't lie, I'm pretty nervous right now, thinking that the next part I'll read will be about Taylor desperately trying to protect herself from Oni Lee's surprise attack. Its a both exciting and terrifying image.
I felt a sadistic glee as I organized the attack on Lung. I directed the flying insects to attack his face. With distaste, I focused the crawling ants and spiders on… other vulnerable areas. I did my best to ignore the feedback that I got from that particular attack, as I most definitely did not want the same kind of topographical map that the swarm had provided just a minute ago. Lung was bad news, and I needed him out of action as soon as possible. That meant delivering the hurt.
Rationale aside, I did feel a stab of guilt about taking pleasure in someone else's pain. I quieted that moment's remorse by reminding myself that Lung had spread tragedy, addiction and death to innumerable families. He had been planning to kill kids.
Lung exploded. No metaphor there. He detonated in a blast of rolling fire that set his clothes, several pieces of litter and one of his gang members alight. Almost every bug in his immediate vicinity died or was crippled by the wave of extreme heat. From my vantage point on the roof, I watched as he turned himself into a human bomb a second time. The second explosion turned his clothes to rags and sent his people fleeing for cover. He stepped out of the smoke with his hands burning like torches, the silvery scales that covered nearly a third of his body reflecting the flame.
Horror, absolute horror. What a GREAT description of pure horror. Lung completely transformation into a human monster-robot thing. He seems invincible, overpowered, like a God made out of metal and untouchable flesh. I fail to see what Taylor can do against him at this moment. Even if she's stinging him in his vulnerable area , he'll still heal and he'll still come after her. Well, Taylor, I think its time for you to run now. Climb down the roof and run as fast as you can, without looking back. Better a cowardly retreat than a stupid death, that's my belief. But she's not coward. She fought pretty good, she even stopped a massacre of innocents (cause I doubt the mooks will come after children now when they got their asses kicked). This is some seriously accomplishment for someone who isn't a trained hero. I'm proud of you, Taylor.
Damn, damn, damn. He was fireproof? Or skilled enough at using fire to superheat the air around him without burning himself? The meager scraps of clothing that covered him were burning away, and fire licked and danced around his hands without him seeming to care.
He roared. It wasn't the monstrous roar one might expect, but a very human sound of rage and frustration. As human as it sounded, though, it was loud. All the way down the street neighborhood, lights and flashlights flickered on in response to the explosions and the roar. I even saw a few faces peering through windows to see the action. Idiots. If Lung's next attack shattered any glass, they could get hurt. From where I was crouched on the side of the roof, I directed some of the more harmless insects to attack Lung. He lashed out with fire the moment they started crawling on him, which I had more or less expected. He was managing to kill the majority of the bugs with each burst of flame, and knowing what I did about his powers, I knew his flames would only get bigger, hotter and more dangerous. In a typical fight, you figure someone would get weaker as the fight dragged on. They would take their lumps, get tired, exhaust their bag of tricks. With Lung, it was the opposite. I found myself regretting that I had used only a relatively small number of the more venomous bugs, because it was becoming clear that what I'd used wasn't having much effect. He had no idea where I was, so I figured I still had the upper hand, but my options and the number of bugs in my swarm were running out. Despite my earlier glee, I wasn't sure I could win this anymore.
Of course he's fireproof, since the fire is his main superpower. Just like your insects can't turn against you, fire can't hurt Lung. But now I'm worried for the poor people who are watching the fight below their windows. Hope nobody will gets hurt. I know that they're way too curious for their sake, but still...nobody deserve to die because of their curiosity. Taylor still doesn't run away, she wants to continue the fight. Despite losing her hopes that she'll win, she still refuses to back away. Her determination and bravery and dedication to people's protection are the BEST THINGS in Worm so far.
I hissed through my teeth, all too aware that time was running out. Before long, Lung would set fire to the city block, become immune to bites and stings in general, or destroy my entire swarm. I had to get creative. I had to get meaner.
I focused my attention on a lone wasp, and piloted it around Lung's back, up behind his head and then had it circle around to his face and straight at his eyeball. The wasp touched his eyelash, and he blinked before it could hit the target. As a consequence, the stinger only sank into his eyelid, prompting yet another explosion of fire and a scream of rage. Again. I thought. A honeybee this time. I wasn't sure if he eventually got armor plated eyelids, but maybe I could use the stings to make his eyes swell shut? He wouldn't be able to fight if he couldn't see. The bee struck home this time, sinking his stinger into the ball of Lung's eye. It surprised me in that it didn't stick or kill the bee, so I had the bee sting again, and this time the barbs let it stick in the skin at the corner of his eye, at the side of his nose. The bee died that time, leaving some tiny organs and a venom sac hanging from the stinger. I expected him to explode again. He didn't. Instead, he set himself on fire, head to toe. I waited a moment, poised to attack with the next wasp to attack the moment he dropped his guard, but as the seconds passed, I realized he wasn't planning on extinguishing himself. My heart sank.
So, he still has a vulnerable area left (besides his other vulnerable areas that are now probably covered in metal). Taylor tries with a wasp then with a bee to sting his eye, and she was successful for a moment, but she's unlucky enough that Lung is pretty similar with her when it comes to determination and, despite the obvious pain, he continues to act like the fire monster he's and drags this fight as much as possible.
Surely he was burning up all of the oxygen in his vicinity. Didn't he need to breathe? What the hell was the fuel source for his fire?
Standing in the street, he turned around, searching for me, with the flames that licked and rolled over his body casting light where there had been only gloom. Abruptly, he hunched over. I wondered if – I hoped – the various toxins and venoms in his system had done the trick. Then his back separated into two. A meaty looking gap appeared along his spine, followed by an eruption of long metallic scales all down the gap. After bristling for a few moments, the scales lay flat like dominoes falling. He stood and stretched, and I could swear he was a foot taller, now with an armor plated spine.
Still on fire, head to toe. If the 'constantly on fire' thing had tipped the balance of the fight to futile, watching Lung grow and look stronger than ever had pushed me to the point of being spooked. I started thinking about an exit strategy. Rationally, I figured, Lung's men were scattered to the four winds and they were probably in pretty rough shape. Whatever Lung had been planning for tonight, chances were he wasn't going to be able to carry out whatever plans he'd had after this debacle. I had more or less accomplished what I needed to, and I figured I could run and find a way to contact the PHQ just in case.
Maybe he doesn't need oxygen to breath when he's in his fire-cyborg-monster form. Btw, I love so much the description of Lung's transformation, its something that I can read about a couple of times without getting bored. Taylor finally agrees with me about running away, feeling like she did everything in her powers to stop those thugs from doing what they planned to do. Indeed, she stopped them, the kids are safe, at least during that night. Even better? Oni Lee didn't appeared behind Taylor for a surprise back-stab.
That was the rational perspective. Justifications aside, I just wanted to leave, right then. If things dragged on and I stayed put, there was a very real chance that Lung would give evidence to the rumor that he could grow wings, at which point I would be spotted for sure. I wouldn't be able to beat Lung at this point, anyway, which left only a graceless retreat as the remaining option.
Lung had his back turned to me, so I lifted myself up, slowly. Crouching, I backed up to retreat to the fire escape, watching Lung carefully as I set foot on the gravel of the roof. As if a gunshot had gone off, Lung whirled around to stare at me. One of his eyes was just a glowing line behind his mask, but the other was like an orb of molten metal. A victorious roar filled the air, less human than the outcry he had made earlier, and I felt a kind of resignation. Enhanced hearing. The package of powers the bastard got from his transformation included superhuman hearing.
FUCK! FUCK! HELL NOOOOOOOOO! He found her. He also has superhuman hearing and he heard her when she tried to retreat. Yes, indeed, he seems way overpowered. Too many powers packed up in a single twisted, demented, asshole individual. Lung is the human personification of all nightmares: a monster with fire powers, metal body, super-hearing, claws, wings, you can't hide from him, you can't escape from him, you can't defeat him, you can't win against him, nothing at all. Maybe someone with stronger powers than Taylor might be able to defeat Lung, I'm thinking at someone with water powers, since water> fire, or someone like Storm from X-Men, who can generate enough rain to extinguish him. I pray for you to escape unharmed, Taylor and I hope that no one of the unfortunate spectators will die.
That's all for the moment. We'll see you with the next chapter. Soon. Bye!
Bored out of my mind. I have to do some chores but....I think reading a new chapter of Worm 1.05 | Worm seems to be way more interesting than doing chores. So, lets see how fast Taylor can run from a Dragon who might incinerate her from head to toe if she's not fast enough. Gosh, I hope that someone will jump in her help at the last moment and save her life, in the same manner she saved the kids' lives. Something like Deus Ex Machina, I wouldn't mind at all. After all, she's the main character. All main characters have something that is called Plot Armor. Well, at the very end of their story, they can die, if the author decided to be more dramatic/realistic about their fate but until then...Deus Ex Machina is their main weapon. Lol, I turned the whole promise of 1 chapter/day into 2 chapters/day. Hope that you don't mind, boys and girls.
You don't properly appreciate what superhuman strength means until you see someone leap from the sidewalk to the second floor of a building on the far side of the street. He didn't make it all the way to the roof, but he came to a point maybe three quarters of the way up. I wasn't sure just how Lung kept from falling, but I could only guess that he just buried his fingertips into the building's exterior.
I heard scraping and crunching as he ascended, and looked to my only escape route. I didn't harbor any delusions as far as my ability to get down the fire escape before Lung came over the top of the roof and deduced where I'd run off to. Worse, at that point he could probably just beat me to the street level by jumping off the roof, or even just shoot fire at me through the gaps in the metal while I was halfway down. The irony of the fire escape being anything but didn't escape me.
I wished I could fly. My school offered the choice between Chemistry, Biology and Physics, with Basic Science for the underachievers. I hadn't picked Physics, but I was still pretty sure that no matter how many I could gather together, jumping off the roof with a swarm of flying insects gripping me would be just as ineffective as the 9 year old superhero wannabes you heard about in the news, jumping off ledges with umbrellas and bedsheets. For the time being, I was stuck where I was.
So, he prefers to use his clawed hands for climbing the building instead of using his wings to fly? Hmmm, weird choice, but maybe Lung is not a very good strategist or maybe he's too angry at that moment to think clear. Taylor can't use her bugs to fly, this is a good (and logical, I must add) thinking. If only she'd have a huge-ass bee or wasp, something as big as a horse (now I imagine a bee the size of a horse) that can carry her on its back, that would be great. Pretty helpful. But she can't make her bugs grow at unnatural proportion, neither she can make herself small like a bug (the kind of power that Wasp- a Marvel superheroine- have). She only have mind manipulation, which is really not a great power. Well, it is great against people who are not Lung, but useless against people who are Lung.
Reaching inside the convex armor that covered my spine, I ran my fingers over the things I had buckled in there. The EpiPens were meant to treat anaphylactic shock from allergic reactions to bee stings and the like, and likely wouldn't do a thing to Lung, even if I could get close enough and find a point to inject. Worst case scenario, the injections would supercharge his power by prompting a surge of whatever hormones or endorphins fueled his power. Not useful, dangerous at best. I had a pouch of chalk dust that was meant for climbers and gymnasts, I had seen it in the sports store when I was buying the lenses for my mask. I had gloves and didn't think I needed the dryness and extra traction, but I had gotten the idea that it could be useful to throw at an invisible enemy, and bought it on a whim. In retrospect, it had been kind of a dumb purchase, since my power let me find foes like that with my bugs. As a tool against Lung… I wasn't sure if it would explode like regular dust could when exposed to flame, but fire didn't hurt him anyways. Scratch that option.
I tugged the little canister of pepper spray free from my armor. It was a black tube, three inches long, not much thicker around than a pen, with a trigger and a safety switch. It had been a gift from my dad, after I had started to go on my morning jogs for training. He had warned me to vary my route, and had given me the pepper spray for protection, along with a chain to clip it to my belt loop so it couldn't be taken and used against me by an attacker. In costume, I had opted not to keep the chain for the sake of moving quietly. Using my thumb, I flicked the safety off and positioned the tube so I was ready to fire. I crouched to make myself a smaller target, and waited for him to show himself.
Aww, her father gave her a canister of pepper spray to protect herself against thugs. He does cares for her and he's worried everytime she went outside for her running practice. This is actually sweet. So, I was right about the fact that her parents might not be bad people. I think that her father (at least) doesn't know about her mutation, otherwise he won't be so worried, since she has her powers always at her disposition. She doesn't want to tell him, maybe she's afraid that he'll reject her (because of the fear for her powers or simply prejudices against mutants)? I have a feeling that the moment when her parents will find out about her powers will be either one of the best moments of this story or one of the saddest ones. Okay, back to the story: PLEASE, Oni Lee, don't show your ass now, don't show your ass now, not now, PLEASE...
Lung's hands, still on fire, were the first thing to show up, gripping the edge of the roof hard enough to bend the material that covered the roof's raised lip. His hands were quickly followed by his head and torso as he hauled himself up. He looked like he was made of overlapping knives or spades, smouldering yellow-orange with the low temperature flame. There was no skin to be seen, and he was easily seven or eight feet tall, judging by the length of his arms and torso. His shoulders alone were three feet across at the very least. Even the one eye that he had open looked metallic, a glowing, almond shaped pool of liquid-hot metal.
I aimed for the open eye, but the spray fired off at a sharp angle, just glancing off his shoulder. Where the spray grazed him, it ignited into a short lived fireball.
I swore under my breath and fumbled with the device. While he brought his leg over the edge, I adjusted my angle and shot again. This time – with a small tweak of my aim mid-shot – I hit him in the face. The ignited spray rolled off of him, but the contents still did the trick. He screamed, letting go of the roof with one hand, clutching the side of his face where his good eye was. It had been vain to hope that he would slip and fall. I just counted myself lucky that however metallic his face looked, there were still parts of it vulnerable to the spray.
YESSS, she injured him. One of his eyes is still vulnerable and the pepper spray did its job flawless. Now, what is your next move, Taylor? Try to make him fall off the building? I doubt this will be the right thing to do- he's covered in metal, he won't be harmed. The street will be "harmed" instead of him. Don't you feel pity for the poor asphalt, Taylor? Seriously talking now:
Oni Lee, stay wherever you're, stay wherever you're...
Lung hauled himself over the edge of the roof. I had him hurting… I just couldn't do anything about it. My bugs were officially useless, there was nothing left in my utility sheath, and I would hurt myself more than I hurt Lung if I attacked him. Making a mental note to pick myself up a concealable knife or baton if I managed to live through this, I bolted for the fire escape.
"Muh… Motherfucker!" Lung screamed. With my back turned, there was no way to see it, but the roof was briefly illuminated before the wave of flame hit me from behind. Knocked off balance, I skidded on the gravel and hit the raised lip of the roof, just by the fire escape. Frantically, I patted myself down. My costume wasn't on fire, but my hair – I hurriedly ran my hands over it to make sure it hadn't been ignited.
Small mercies, I thought, that there was no tar used on the roof. I could just imagine the flames igniting the rooftop, and just how little I'd be able to do if it happened. Lung stood, slowly, still covering part of his face with his hand. He walked with a slight limp as he approached me. Blindly, he lashed out with a broad wave of flame that rolled over half the roof. I covered my head with my hands and brought my knees to my chest as the hot air and flame rushed over me. My costume seemed to take the brunt of it, but it was still hot enough I had to bite my lip to stop from making a sound.
He almost burned her!!! Wow, whoa, this is bad, this is really bad. He's on the roof, throwing flames at her and she can't even climb down the roof. She's completely at his mercy!!! (btw, I'm a bit surprised that he's able to talk while in his dragon form. But maybe the transformation didn't affected his vocal cords). Quickly, Deus Ex Machina bullshit, you have one job. One fucking job. Then do your job. Taylor must be protected with all costs. Whatever happens, I really don't care not even if a random giant hand will fall from the sky right over Lung, crushing him. As long as Taylor is okay I'm ready to accept this as something that it happened.
Lung stopped advancing, slowly turning his head from one side to another.
I held my breath and stayed as still as possible. What could I do? I still had the pepper spray in my hand, but even if I got him again, I was running the risk that he would lash out and bake me alive before I could move. If I moved first, he would hear me and I would get knocked around by another blast of flame, probably before I could get to my feet. Lung moved his hand from his face. He blinked a few times, then looked around, then blinked a few more times. It was a matter of seconds before he could see well enough to make me out from the shadows. Wasn't pepper spray supposed to put someone down for thirty minutes? How was this monster not an A-Lister? He suddenly moved, flames wreathing his hands, and I screwed my eyes shut. When I heard the crackling whoosh of the flame and wasn't burned alive, I opened my eyes again. Lung was firing streams of flame, aiming for the edge of the roof of the adjacent building, a three story apartment. I looked to see what he was aiming at, but couldn't make anything out in the gloom or in the brief second of light Lung's flames afforded.
What? Something is attacking Lung? Something jumped in Taylor's help? OMG, this is the best thing that I read about during the entire fight against Lung. Whatever is attacking Lung, I don't care if is a hero or another villain. As long as they can keep him away from hurting Taylor, anything is alright for me. I'll flip my shit is there's someone with giant hands powers attack, I'll start to seriously think about my capacity to predict things with such accuracy...and to question my sanity...and my very own existence.
With no warning, a massive shape landed atop Lung with an impact I could swear people heard at the other end of the street. The size of a van, the 'massive object' was animal rather than vehicle, resembling a cross between a lizard and a tiger, with tangles of muscle and bone where it ought to have skin, scales or fur. Lung was now on his knees, holding one of the beast's sizable claws away from his face with his own clawed hand.
Lung used his free hand to strike the creature across the snout. Even though he was smaller than the beast, the impact made it rear back. It took a few short steps back in reaction, and then rhino-charged him off the edge of the roof. They hit the street with an audible crash.
There's no a giant hand...but there's a giant...lizard tiger monster thing. Whoa, whoa...okay! That's great, that's great as long as Lung is fucked by that monster. Maybe is a hero with shapeshifting powers, who can turn into that creature. Or maybe is a hero able to summon creatures. Either way, Taylor, you have to thank to your lucky star. This "dashing" hero/heroine saved you from a certain death. So, we're going to get to know this amazing person who just saved a fellow heroine?
I stood, aware I was shaking like a leaf. I was so unsteady on my feet, from the mixed relief and fear, that I almost fell over again as two more impacts shook the roof. Two more creatures, similar to the first in texture, but slightly different in size and shape, had arrived on the rooftop. These two each had a pair of riders. I watched as the people slid off the backs of the animals. There were two girls, a guy, and a fourth I identified as male only because of the height. The tall one approached me, while the others hurried to the edge of the roof to watch Lung and the creature duke it out.
"You really saved us a lot of trouble," he told me. His voice was deep, masculine, but muffled by the helmet he wore. He was dressed entirely in black, a costume I realized was basically motorcycle leathers and a motorcycle helmet. The only thing that made me think it was a costume was the visor of his helmet. The full-face visor was sculpted to look like a stylized skull, and was as black as the rest of his costume, with only the faint highlights of reflected light on the surface to give a sense of what it was. It was one of those costumes that people put together out of what they can scrounge up, and it wasn't half bad if you didn't look too close. He reached out a hand towards me, and I leaned away, wary.
Oh, they're like 4 heroes, not just one. 2 boys and 2 girls. NEAT! They're riding those creatures that are similar with the one that attacked Lung. One of the boys is dressed like a biker. Cool, he seems the badass type of hero. Maybe he's the one who summoned those monsters. But...wait a minute!!! He said that Taylor saved them from trouble. What?!? So...they're the kids that Lung wanted to kill? But, they don't look like kids, exactly. I think I get it. Those four heroes (or vigilantes) made Lung very angry by trying to destroy his bussiness and have him arrested (or even killed since he's a bad guy). He called him "kids" because they must be younger than him, maybe by Taylor's years. Ok, I got it now. Taylor saved them and they saved her in turn. Nice work, buddies.
Withdrawing his hand, the man in black jerked his thumb over one shoulder, "When we got word Lung was aiming to come after us tonight, we were pretty freaked. We were arguing strategy for the better part of the day. We eventually decided, fuck it, we'd meet him halfway. Wing it. Not my usual way of doing things, but yeah."
Behind him, one of the girls whistled sharply and pointed down at the street. The two monsters the group had been riding on bounded across the roof and leaped down to the street to join the fight. The guy in black kept talking, "Wouldn't you know, his flunky Lee is there with a half dozen guys, but Lung and the rest of his gang are nowhere to be found," he laughed, a surprisingly normal sound for someone wearing a mask with a skull on it. "Lee's no slouch in a fight, but there's a reason he's not leader of the ABB. He got spooked without his boss there and ran. I guess you're responsible for that?" Skull-mask waited for a response from me. When I didn't offer one, he ventured towards the edge of the roof and looked down, then spoke without turning to look at me, "Lung is getting creamed. The fuck you do to him?" "Pepper spray, wasp and bee stings, fire ants and spider bites," the second of the girls said, answering the question for me. She was dressed in a skintight outfit that combined black with a pale shade of blue or purple – I couldn't tell in the dark – and her dark blond hair was long and windblown. The girl grinned as she added, "He's not holding up too well. Gonna feel a helluvalot worse tomorrow."
Ok, so, why they didn't called the Protectorate if they knew that Lung was coming after them? Maybe they're really vigilantes (like Batman and Punisher) and heroes doesn't actually like vigilantes, because they're doing some pretty dirty work, despite having noble purposes. Ha ha ha ha, Oni Lee is a fucking coward! I was terrified by a fucking coward, can't believe this shit. With all his super-crazy teleportating bullshit of power, he decided- in his heavily mandarin accent "fuck this, fuck my boss, fuck my mooks, I'll save my damn skin". So, one of the girls is the one who summoned the monsters; she can also control them (this seems like a kick-ass power indeed). Another girl knows EXACTLY how the battle between Taylor and Lung went. Maybe she's a psych mutant, she can either look and see into the past or read minds.
The man in black suddenly turned to look at me, "Introductions. That's Tattletale. I'm Grue. The girl with the dogs-" he pointed to the other girl, the one who had whistled and directed the monsters. She wasn't in costume unless I counted a plaid skirt, army boots, a torn-up sleeveless T-shirt and a hard plastic, dollar-store rottweiler mask as a costume. "-We call her Bitch, her preference, but in the interests of being P.G., the good guys and media decided to call her Hellhound instead. Last and certainly least, we have Regent."
"Fuck you, Grue," Regent retorted, with a chuckle and a tone of voice that made it clear he wasn't really that offended. He was wearing a white mask, not quite as decorative or made up as the ones I associated with the carnivals in Venice, but similar. He'd placed a silver coronet around his short black curls, and wore a ruffled white shirt with skintight leggings tucked into knee-high boots. The outfit was very renaissance faire. He had a build that made me think more of a dancer than a bodybuilder. Introductions done, Grue looked at me for several long moments. After a few seconds, he asked me, "Hey, you okay? You hurt?"
Okay, okay, okay. So, their vigilante/hero names are Grue, Tattletale, Regent and...WHAT KIND OF RESPECTABLE GIRL WILL CALL HERSELF BITCH? Mother of God, this is so crazy!!! Well, if she likes to be called like this then who I'm to judge her? I'll have a little fun now and try to guess their powers after their code names and judging by what I saw them doing so far. Bitch can either summon monster dogs out of thin air and mind control them or she can turn normal dogs into monsters than mind control them afterwards. If you ask me what kind of power I want her to have, prefer the summoning part because turning normal dogs into monsters seems to be PAINFUL as hell and, while I'm more like a cat person than a dog person, I don't like when animals are hurt. Tattletale have psych powers- see in the past, read minds or instinctively know everything about someone just by looking at them. Those are the kind of powers I'd absolute LOVE to have, one of the coolest powers ever. Imagine the things someone can do with them. Now, Grue. I know that "Grue" is a fictional monster who live in the dark. And this very nice and caring boy is dressed entire in black and calls himself Grue. He can either turn himself into pure darkness or generate darkness, making his enemies unable to see him. As for Regent, he can go like this: BOW TO ME, PEASANTS, I'M YOUR MOTHERFUCKER KING! and when everyone, enchanted by his royal Venice presence, were doing exactly what he told them, he started to laugh in their nose: "FUCK YOU, IDIOTS, I'M JUST A DAMN REGENT! BUT I LIKE HOW QUICKLY I TRICKED YOU! I'm sure he can...mind control people (but only temporary) to do his biding or maybe shapeshift into them and take their place (temporary) pretending he's them. Ok, my brains are on fire now, too much thinking lol...next.
"The reason she's not introducing herself isn't because she's hurt," Tattletale told him, as she continued to lean over the edge of the roof and watch whatever was going on at the street level, "It's because she's shy."
Tattletale turned around and it looked like she was going to say something else, but she stopped, turning her head. The smile she'd been wearing faded, "Heads up. We've gotta scram."
Bitch nodded in response and whistled, one short whistle followed by two long ones. After a brief pause, the building was suddenly rattled by impacts. In just moments, the three creatures of hers leaped from the alleys to either side of the building and onto the roof. Grue turned towards me. I was still standing on the opposite end of the roof, by the fire escape. "Hey, want a ride?" I looked at the creatures – dogs? They were bloodied, snarling creatures out of a nightmare. I shook my head. He shrugged. "Hey," Tattletale said to me, seating herself just behind Bitch, "What's your name?" I stared at her. My voice caught in my throat before I was able to get the words out, "I don't… I haven't picked one yet." "Well, Bug, a cape is gonna show up in less than a minute. You did us a solid by dealing with Lung, so take my advice. Someone from the Protectorate shows up, finds two bad guys duking it out, they're not going to let one walk away. You should get out of here," She said. She flashed me a smile. She had one of those vulpine grins that turned up at the corners. Behind her simple black domino style mask, her eyes were glittering with mischief. If she had red hair, she would have made me think of a fox. She kind of did, anyways.
Ok, Tattletale seems to know everything about a person just by being in their presence. Neat power (I kind of envy you, Tattletale, why do you have such a cool power that doesn't exist in real life? "let out a huge sigh"). Tattletale called Taylor Bug. Well, you can add Bug Queen and you'll have my first proposition for Taylor's codename. Those "kids" seem so friendly and helpful, I like them already. Especially Tattletale. She also knows that someone from Protectorate is coming (so, she can see in the future also knows personal details about people? How many cool powers do you have, Tattletale?) . So, they're neither heroes now vigilantes. They're...villains. Wow, I didn't expected at this. They seem to be like the nicest villains ever. They remind me of Brotherhood of Mutants from X-Men Evolution, but more nice than those. Cool, give me some helpful and kind villains anytime, i always appreciate this. After all, villains are people too, not all of them are entirely evil. Maybe those "kids" are small time thieves or tricksters or burglars, nothing too bad or too murderous. Compared with Lung, they're innocent angels.
With that, they leaped over my head, one of the three beasts hitting or stepping on the fire escape on the way down, eliciting a screech of metal on metal.
When I realized what had just happened, I could have cried. It was easy enough to pin down Regent, Tattletale and Bitch as teenagers. It wasn't much of an intuitive leap to guess that Grue had been one too. The 'children' Lung had mentioned, the ones I had gone to so much effort to save tonight, were bad guys. Not only that, but they had mistaken me for one, too.
Well, bad guys who saved you and treated you a lot nicer than those bitches at your school, Taylor, little Bug hero. They honestly believe you're a bad guy too, he he he, this is so much fun. What if...what if you'll become a villain too by helping them to fight against bigger and meaner villains? That would be completely unexpected. But kick-ass! I'll support you even as a villain, Taylor, as long as you don't hurt non-powered innocent people on purpose. I just love you, you daredevil crazy hero-villain girl! What a great character Taylor is "continues for a couple of minutes to fangirl over Taylor, the group of 4 villains and the story, in general."........................................................
..............."comes back to her senses" Bye, my dearests, see you tomorrow.
Alright, boys and girls, time for a new review. 1.06 | Worm. After she saved a group of NICE villains, and she was saved by them in return, Taylor is more or less ready to meet the first real hero of the story. I'm sure she's tired and scared and all she wants is to go home, but right now she has to wait for the hero and explain what she did to Lung (I wonder if Lung is still there or he ran away, after the 4 villains left with their monsters). Let's read and see.
I heard the cape arrive on his souped up motorcycle. I didn't want to be seen fleeing the scene of a fight, and risk being labeled one of the bad guys by yet another person, but I wasn't about to get closer to the street either, in case Lung was feeling better. Since there was nowhere to go, I just stayed put. Just resting felt good.
If you'd asked me just a few hours ago about how I thought I would feel meeting a big name superhero, I would have used words like excited and giddy. The reality was that I was almost too exhausted to care.
It looked as though he flew up onto the roof, but the six-foot long weapon the man held kind of jerked as he landed. I was pretty sure I saw the tines of a grappling hook retreating back into the end of the weapon. So this was what Armsmaster looked like in person, I thought. The largest superhero organization in the world was the Protectorate, spanning Canada and the States, with ongoing talks about including Mexico in the deal. It was a government sponsored league of superheroes with a base in each 'cape city'. That is, they had a team set up in each city with a sizable population of heroes and villains. Brockton Bay's team was officially 'The Protectorate East-North-East', and were headquartered in the floating, forcefield-shrouded island that you could see from the Boardwalk. This guy, Armsmaster, was the guy in charge of the local team. When the core group of the top Protectorate members from around Canada and the States assembled in that classic 'v' formation for the photo shoots, Armsmaster was one of the guys in the wings. This was a guy who had his own action figures. Poseable Armsmaster with interchangeable Halberd parts.
The biker hero name is...Armsmaster!! Lol, wut!?! Give me few minutes, cause this codename is HILARIOUS. OMG, so much fun with this story. Master of Arms. Armsmaster. So, he's a badass who's very good at fighting with his...arms? Maybe he knows instantly all kinds of hand-to-hand combat or maybe he has superstrength, like punch someone and send them flying into sky. Protectorate exists in more countries than one, including Canada (also they want to include Mexico). This parallel world seems to have the same countries as our world. The only different thing (so far) is that some humans have superpowers and they're either villains or heroes. I wonder if superpowered individuals who are neither superheroes or villains does exist in that world. Like everyday normal humans (with superpowers) who just want to be left alone, without being involved in fights.
He really did look like a superhero, not like some guy in a costume. It was an important distinction. He wore body armor, dark blue with silver highlights, had a sharply angled v-shaped visor covering his eyes and nose. With only the lower half of his face exposed, I could see a beard trimmed to trace the edges of his jaw. If I had to judge, with only the lower half of his face to go by, I'd guess he was in his late twenties or early thirties.
His trademark and weapon was his Halberd, which was basically a spear with an axe head on the end, souped up with gadgets and the kind of technology you generally only saw in science fiction. He was the kind of guy who appeared on magazine covers and did interviews on TV, so you could find almost anything about Armsmaster through various media, short of his secret identity. I knew his weapon could cut through steel as though it was butter, that it had plasma injectors for stuff that the blade alone couldn't cut and that he could fire off directed electromagnetic pulses to shut down forcefields and mechanical devices.
He indeed looks like a hero coming straight from SF movies. Or like Iron Man, with a lot of gadgets, a super-badass weapon, all screaming: I' m the walking and talking nightmare of every villains that are still breathing in this town. He also was polite and considerate enough to ask Taylor if she's gonna fight. Calm your man tits, Armsmaster, as long as you're not going to hurt her, she has no reasons to fight you. Neither she can, especially after the fight with Lung who exhaust her and almost got her killed.
Stepping closer to me, he tilted his head, "You don't look like one."
That stung, especially coming from him. It was like Michael Jordan saying you sucked at basketball. "That's… not intentional," I responded, not a little defensively, "I was more than halfway done putting the costume together when I realized it was already looking more edgy than I'd intended, and I couldn't do anything about it by then." There was a long pause. Nervously, I turned my eyes from that opaque visor. I glanced at his chest emblem, a silhouette of his visor in blue against a silver background, and was struck with the ridiculous thought that I had once owned a pair of underpants with his emblem on the front.
"You're telling the truth," he said. It was a definitive statement, which startled me. I wanted to ask how he knew, but I wasn't about to do or say anything that might change his mind. He approached closer, looking me over as I sat there with my arms around my knees, he asked, "You need a hospital?" "No," I said. "Don't think so. I'm as surprised as you are." "You're a new face," he said.
Michael Jordan? They also have the same famous people as ours. Duplicates. I wonder if Jordan of their world is superpowered and what kind of superpower he would have: like jump 30.000 feet into the air and hit random planes with the ball for fun and giggles? Armsmaster is a bit judgemental, he quickly believes that she's a villain only because of her costume. He's judging after appearances. Don't like those kind of people. I mean, look at Batman, he's all dressed like he'd be a fucking supervillain, but he's the awesome vigilante we all know and love. Even Green Arrow. His costume is not exactly heroic type, but he has the heart of a hero. Armsmaster, not everyone should dress in white, blue and pink to be a freaking hero, understand? At least, he agreed with her, he has a way to tell if people are telling the truth or not, I see.
"I haven't even come up with a name yet. You know how hard it is to come up with a bug-themed name that doesn't make me sound like a supervillain or a complete dork?"
He chuckled, and it sounded warm, very normal, "I wouldn't know. I got into the game early enough that I didn't have to worry about missing out on all of the good names."
There was a pause in the conversation. I suddenly felt awkward. I don't know why, but I admitted to him, "I almost died." "That's why we have the Ward program," he said. There was no judgement in his tone, no pressure. Just a statement. I nodded, more to give a response than out of any agreement with the answer. The Wards were the under-eighteen subdivision of the Protectorate, and Brockton Bay did have its own team of Wards, with the same naming convention as the Protectorate; The Wards East-North-East. I had considered applying to join, but the notion of escaping the stresses of high school by flinging myself into a mess of teenage drama, adult oversight and schedules seemed self-defeating.
So Wards are the young heroes? They trust kids to do heroic jobs, I see. But it looks like Taylor doesn't want to be a Ward, because she's afraid that she'll meet the same bullies that made her school life an absolute hell. Even worse, bullies with superpowers. She doesn't want to repeat her unpleasant experience. I'm sure that there are bullies in Wards too because, even if those teenagers have superpowers, they're still humans FIRST, and they act with good and bad sides like every other non-powered humans. No difference. I agree with you, Taylor, you don't need more bullies in your life.
"You get Lung?" I asked, to change the subject from the Wards. I was pretty sure that he was obligated to try and induct new heroes into either the Protectorate or the Wards, depending on their age, to promote the whole agenda of organized heroes who are accountable for their actions, and I really didn't want him to get on my case about joining.
"Lung was unconscious, beaten and battered when I arrived. I pumped him full of tranquilizers to be safe and temporarily restrained him under a steel cage I welded to the sidewalk. I'll pick him up on my way back." "Good," I said, "With him in jail, I'll feel like I accomplished something today. Only reason I started the fight was because I overheard him telling his men to shoot some kids. Only realized later that he was talking about some other villains." Armsmaster turned to look at me. So I told him, walking him through the fight in general, the arrival of the teenage bad guys, and their general descriptions. Before I finished, he was pacing back and forth on the roof. "These guys. They knew I was coming?" I nodded, once. As much respect as I had for Armsmaster, I wasn't in much of a mood to repeat myself.
So, Lung was arrested by Armasmaster and he'll go to jail. I suppose they have a special jail, able to contain superpowered mutants. Like having collars around their necks that can block their powers. Or a microchip surgically implanted in their spine to stop them from trying to escape by generating terrible pain. Or maybe a very futuristic jail from where they can't escape because its walls are made in a way that their powers are useless against. Everything is possible when dealing with superhumans. Now Armsmaster and Taylor are talking about the 4 villains. Great, time to learn more about my favorite villains so far.
"That explains a lot," he said, staring off into the distance. After a few moments, he went on to explain, "They're slippery. On those few occasions we do manage to get in a toe to toe fight with them, they either win, or they get away more or less unscathed, or both. We know so little about them. Grue and Hellhound were working on their own before they joined the group, so there's some information there, but the other two? They're nonentities. If the girl Tattletale has some way of detecting or tracking us, it would go a long way towards explaining why they're doing as well as they are."
It kind of surprised me to hear one of the top level heroes admitting to being anything less than perfectly on top of things. "It's funny," I said, after a few moment's thought, "They didn't seem that hardcore. Grue said they were kind of panicking when they heard Lung was coming after them, and they were casually joking around while the fight was going on. Grue was making fun of Regent." "They said all this in front of you?" he asked. I shrugged, "I think they thought I was helping them out. The way Tattletale talked, I think she thought I was a bad guy too or something." With a touch of bitterness, I said, "Dunno, I guess it was the costume that led them to that assumption."
Hmm, Armsmaster knows about this group, maybe he was watching them for a while, besides he (and other heroes) got in few fights with them. They escaped, but they didn't killed any hero, otherwise Armsmaster would have mentioned this. So, they're not murderers. Awesome. I think Tattletale is their leader. She seems to be the most powerful in their group, she knows so many things about everyone and they seemed to listen her back when they're talking with Taylor. Yes, they're not hardcore at all. Bitch seems to be the most dangerous one, because of her creatures who fucked Lung up forever, but other 3...I wonder why they became villains because this lifestyle is clearly not suitable for them. Depends of circumstances, maybe they didn't have any other choices or they're forced to play as villains. By someone more or less evil than Lung.
"Could you have taken them in a fight?" Armsmaster asked me.
I started to shrug, and winced a little. I was feeling a little sore in the shoulder, where I'd tumbled on the roof after being blasted by Lung's flames. I said, "Like you said, we don't know a lot about them, but I think that girl with the dogs-" "Hellhound," Armsmaster said. "I think she could have kicked my ass on her own, so no. I probably couldn't have fought them." "Then count it as a good thing that they got the wrong impression," Armsmaster said.
"I'll try to look at it that way," I said, struck by how he easily he was able to employ the whole 'take a negative and turn it into a positive' mindset I'd been trying to maintain. I envied that. "That a girl," he said, "And while we're looking forward, we need to decide where we go from here." My heart sank. I knew he was going to bring up the Wards again. "Who gets the credit for Lung?" Caught off guard, I looked up at him. I started to speak, but he held up his hand. "Hear me out. What you've done tonight is spectacular. You played a part in getting a major villain into custody. You just need to consider the consequences."
Maybe Taylor could fight against each one of them, at time, but NOT all of them together. They'd crush her. Tattletale would predict every of her moves, Bitch would make her monster dogs attack her, Grue would use his darkness powers (whatever they're) and Regent mind mind control her or whatever he's doing. Taylor won't stand any chance against them. Armsmaster gave Taylor more confidence in herself by telling her that she did a great job. Nice, Armsmaster, thank you for encouraging her, she really needs to hear some good words from someone else who is not her father (her mother). Armsmaster, so far, seems like a super-serious, hardworking guy, but also very fair when it comes to express himself in front of other people. A bit judgemental, but let this be his only flaw and it will be perfect.
"Consequences," I muttered, even as the word spectacular rang in my ears.
"Lung has an extensive gang throughout Brockton Bay and neighboring cities. More than that, he has two superpowered flunkies. Oni Lee and Bakuda." I shook my head, "I know about Oni Lee, and Grue mentioned fighting him. I've never heard of Bakuda." Armsmaster nodded, "Not surprising. She's new. What we know about her is limited. She made her first appearance and demonstration of her powers by way of a drawn out terrorism campaign against Cornell University. Lung apparently recruited her and brought her to Brockton Bay after her plans were foiled by the New York Protectorate. This is… something of a concern."
Oni Lee is a fucking coward, nobody should be afraid of him anymore. Bakuda is a terrorist, and she's a woman...in a group called Azn Bad Boys (at least they aren't sexist). This seems like a japanese name and I googled it and I discovered that "bakudan" means "bombs". Great, a terrorist who either builds bombs or force people to become suicidal bombers. She's also a Tinker, it looks like (I think Tinkers are like Sparks in Girl Genius webcomic, super-scientists who can manipulate science in a way that it allows them to invent/build anything they put their mind into. For everyone who's interested in Girl Genius Online Comics I recommend reading it. Its one of the best webcomics involving science, adventure, romance and lots of clusterfuck and it deserves more readers. Give it a chance and maybe you won't regret it).
I started to shrug, but remembered my sore shoulder and nodded instead. It was probably more polite, too. I said, "Covers anyone with powers that give them an advanced grasp of science. Lets them make technology years ahead of its time. Ray guns, ice blasters, mechanized suits of armor, advanced computers."
"Close enough," Armsmaster said. It struck me he would be a Tinker, if his Halberd and armor were any indication. That, or he got his stuff from someone else. He elaborated, "Well, most Tinkers have a specialty or a special trick. Something they're particualrly good at or something that they can do, which other Tinkers can't. Bakuda's specialty is bombs." I stared at him. A woman with a power that let her make bombs that were technologically decades ahead of their time. No wonder he saw it as a concern.
"Now I want you to consider the danger involved in taking the credit for Lung's capture. Without a doubt, Oni Lee and Bakuda will be looking to accomplish two goals. Freeing their boss and getting vengeance on the one responsible. I suspect you're now aware… these are scary people. Scarier in some ways than their boss." "You're saying I shouldn't take the credit," I said. "I'm saying you have two options. Option one is to join the Wards, where you'll have support and protection in the event of an altercation. Option two is to keep your head down. Don't take the credit. Fly under the radar."
So, Tinkers are Worm-verse Sparks. I got it. Armsmaster seems to be a Tinker himself, if he was the one who build his armor, gadgets and weapon. Besides, he seems like a pretty smart guy so its possible for him to be a Tinker. Bakuda would be GREAT as an ISIS member. She'd even make a scary ISIS leader, but I know that patriarchal ISIS would never agree to have a woman leader, no matter how badass she's. I wonder if there's an ISIS and Al-Qaida in that world. Imagine them as being FREAKING LIVING nightmares if they have superpowers, besides their already established terrorist fanaticism and thirst for spilled innocent blood "shudders".
I wasn't prepared to make a decision like that. Usually, I went to sleep at eleven or so, waking up at six thirty to get ready for my morning run. At my best guess, it was somewhere between one and two in the morning. I was emotionally exhausted from the highs and lows of the evening, and I could barely wrap my head around the complications and headaches that would come from joining the Wards, let alone having two insanely dangerous sociopaths coming after me.
On top of that, I wasn't so ignorant as to miss Armsmaster's motives. If I opted to not take the credit for Lung's capture, Armsmaster would, I was sure. I didn't want to get on the bad side of a major player.
"Please keep my involvement in Lung's capture secret," I told him, painfully disappointed to have to say it, even as I knew it made the most sense. He smiled, which I hadn't expected. He had a nice smile. It made me think that he could win the hearts of a lot of women, whatever the top two-thirds of his face looked like. "I think you'll look back and see this was a smart decision," Armsmaster said, turning to walk to the other end of the roof, "Call me at the PHQ if you're ever in a pinch." He stepped off the edge of the roof and dropped out of sight. Call me if you're ever in a pinch. He'd been saying, without openly admitting, that he owed me one. He would take the lion's share of the credit for Lung's capture, but he owed me one. Before I was all the way down the fire escape, I heard the thrum of his motorcycle, presumably carrying Lung towards a life of confinement. I could hope. It would take me a half hour to get home. On the way, I would stop and pull on the sweatshirt and jeans I had hidden. I knew my dad went to sleep even earlier than I did, and he slept like a log, so I had nothing to worry about as far as wrapping up the night. It could have gone worse. Strange as it sounds, those words were a security blanket I wrapped around myself to keep myself from dwelling on the fact that tomorrow was a school day.
Good choice, Taylor, let this experienced hero takes the credit for Lung, not you. I know its not fair, you're the one who caught him, but you can't risk to have A MAD SCIENTIST TERRORIST and A COWARDLY TELEPORTER BOTH coming after you and try to kill you. Experienced heroes know better how to handle this shit; all you have to do, as Armsmaster said, is to fly under the radar and stop doing heroic things for a while until those two will get arrested as well. Oh man, this story becomes more exciting with every chapter, I hope Lung will never escape because, if he'll see Taylor again walking at night in her costume, he'll remember her and fuck her up once for all. She might not have the same luck she had during the first fight.
Can't wait to read the next chapter. Until then, bye, my friends
Hello, ladies and gentlemen. Are you ready for a new review? Here you go then 1.x (Interlude) | Worm This chapter is obviously an Interlude. So, there's not a normal chapter, like Wildbow got me used to. Maybe the point of view will switch and we're going to see other character's point of view, not Taylors. I wonder WHO!!! I'm thinking about the 4 villains, maybe I'll find more about them than the few scraps of informations that I have so far. Btw, I know that I said that I don't like spoilers, but I really want now to know if the 4 villains have a name, as a group. Cause is a little tiring and undignified to keep calling them: the 4 villains. So, can you tell me their group name? Pretty please? Thank you.
"We don't know how long he had been there. Suspended in the air above the Atlantic Ocean. On May twentieth, 1982, an ocean liner was crossing from Plymouth to Boston when a passenger spotted him. He was naked, his arms to his sides, his long hair blowing in the wind as he stood in the sky, nearly a hundred feet above the gently cresting waves. His skin and hair can only be described as a burnished gold. With neither body hair nor clothes to cover him, it is said, he seemed almost artificial.
"After a discussion including passenger and crew, the liner detoured to get closer. It was a sunny day, and passengers crowded to the railings to get a better look. As if sharing their curiosity, the figure drew closer as well. His expression was unchanging, but witnesses at the scene reported that he appeared deeply sad.
"'I thought he was going to crack his facade and cry any moment', said Grace Lands, 'But when I reached out and touched his fingertips, I was the one who burst into tears.' "'That boat trip was a final journey for me. I had cancer, and I wasn't brave enough to face it. Can't believe I'm admitting this in front of a camera, but I was going back to Boston, where I was born, to end things myself. After I met him, I changed my mind. Didn't matter anyways. I went to a doctor, and he said there was no sign I ever had the disease.'
Screw the 4 villains's point of view, screw Armasmaster's point of view, screw Taylor's parents' point of views, we're going to read this Interlude from the point of view of a....FREAKING FLYING PERSONIFIED OSCAR PRIZE!!! How cool is that??? I mean, HOW COOL IS THAT?!? OMG, so this Oscar Prize flies, heals cancer with a single touch and make them super-emotional. All while looking majestically in all his shameless nakedness. Ok, this is a thing...He's clearly not a human, or at least not a normal human. He's either an alien or a mutant who can change his skin color, in the same manner Lung can turn into a dragon.
"'My brother, Andrew Hawke, was the last passenger to make any sort of contact with him, I remember. He climbed up onto the railing, and, almost falling off, he clasped the hand of the golden man. The rest of us had to grab onto him to keep him from falling. Whatever happened left him with a quiet awe. When the man with the golden skin flew away, my brother stayed silent. The rest of the way to Boston, my brother didn't say a word. When we docked, and the spell finally broke, my brother babbled his excitement to reporters like a child.'
"The golden man would reappear several more times in the coming months and years. At some point, he donned clothing. At first, a sheet worn over one shoulder and pinned at either side of the waist, then more conventional clothes. In 1999, he donned the white bodysuit he still wears today. For more than a decade, we have wondered, where did our golden man get these things? Who was he in contact with?
"Periodically at first, then with an increasing frequency, the golden man started to intervene in times of crisis. For events as small as a car accident, as great as natural disasters, he has arrived and used his abilities to save us. A flash of light to freeze water reinforcing a levee stressed by a hurricane. A terrorist act averted. A serial murderer caught. A volcano quelled. Miracles, it was said."
Whatever he's, he has a looooooooong list of superpowers. He can fly, heal, prevent disasters, light based powers, summon clothes (that's a really useful power and I'm deadly serious about), I can compare him with Superman. But Superman didn't appeared on earth out of blue, while he was already a grow up man. He was a kryptonian raised by human parents even since he was a baby. An alien who learned to love humans and help and protect them. On the other side, this Oscar dude barely arrived on earth (if he's an alien, that's it) and started helping people without any reason at all. Maybe he's a superpowered human and he decided to help others when he discovered his powers. But why he was naked at first? If he was a human, then he had to know that humans just don't walk around (or rather fly around) completely naked. Weird indeed.
"His pace increased, perhaps because he was still learning what he could do, perhaps because he was getting a greater sense of where he was needed. By the middle of the 1990s, he was traveling from crisis to crisis, flying faster than the speed of sound. In fifteen years, he has not rested.
"He has been known to speak just once in thirty years. After extinguishing widespread fire in Alexandrovsk, he paused to survey the scene and be sure no blazes remained. A reporter spoke to him, and asked, 'Kto vy?' – what are you? "Shocking the world, caught on camera in a scene replayed innumerable times, he answered in a voice that sounded as though it might never have uttered a sound before. Barely audible, he told her, 'Scion'. "It became the name we used for him. Ironic, because we took a word that meant descendant, and used it to name the first of many superpowered individuals – parahumans – to appear across Earth. "Just five years after Scion's first appearance, the superheroes emerged from the cover of rumor and secrecy to show themselves to the public. Though the villains followed soon after, it was the heroes who shattered any illusions of the parahumans being divine figures. In 1989, attempting to quell a riot over a basketball game in Michigan, the superhero known to the public as Vikare stepped in, only to be clubbed over the head. He died not long after of a brain embolism. Later, he would be revealed to be Andrew Hawke.
He's CLEARLY AN ALIEN. He never rested in fifteen yeas as he continued to save people and do "miracles". This...Scion (at least we have a name for him now and it sound like a name for a freaking God) was the one who GAVE POWERS to people. Andrew Hawke (Rest in Peace, man, you did your best) was in contact with Scion and he got superpowers. So Scion created those...parahumans (they're not mutants, they got powers from an alien). But...why? Why Scion cared so much for humans in order to keep saving them and empower them? This is something very suspicious about Scion. I mean, he can't be like Superman. Superman cared for humans because he was raised among them, while Scion doesn't seem to have anything human in him (except for his appearance), his behavior is very alien like and he was able to barely said a word in so many years. You know what? I DON'T TRUST SCION. Now at all, there's something rotten about him. Maybe I'm wrong but this is my opinion.
"The golden age of the parahumans was thus short lived. They were not the deific figures they had appeared to be. Parahumans were, after all, people with powers, and people are flawed at their core. Government agencies took a firmer hand, and state-"
The television flicked off, and the screen went black, cutting the documentary off mid sentence. Danny Hebert sighed and sat down on the bed, only to stand just a moment later and resume pacing. It was three fifteen in the morning, and his daughter Taylor was not in her bedroom.
You know what? I have a crazy theory about why Scion empowered humans. Maybe his species was destroyed by a more powerful/advanced alien species and he flew away and found this parallel Earth and decided to create parahumans in order to have them help him in the future to fight against his enemies. Maybe he's going to use the parahumans, once they're entirely "trained" according to his wishes. He helps people only because he wants to trick them into believing that he's their protector and to convince them more easy to fight along with him when his foes will find this parallel Earth as well. He's not helping people. He's USING people. What if Scion will prove to be the ultimate villain? Like, after people will help him into defeating his foes, he can take their powers afterwards then have them killed and keep this Earth for himself as his new planet. I know you're laughing your ass off at my crazy (and probably too far-stretched) theories, but I believe what I want to believe. Until the author will prove me otherwise, okay?
And now we have a new point of view. Taylor's dad. Hello, mr Hebert, what's up? Worried for your heroic daughter, eh?
Danny ran his hands through his hair, which was thinned enough at the top to be closer to baldness than not. He liked to be the first to arrive at work, watching everyone arrive, having them know he was there for them. So he usually went to bed early; he'd turn in at ten in the evening, give or take depending on what was on TV. Only tonight, a little past midnight, he'd been disturbed from restless sleep when he had felt rather than heard the shutting of the back door of the house, just below his bedroom. He had checked on his daughter, and he'd found her room empty.
Countless times, he had glanced out the window, hoping to see Taylor coming in. For the twentieth time, he felt the urge to ask his wife for help, for advice, for support. But her side of the bed was empty and it had been for some time. Daily, it seemed, he was struck by the urge to call her cell phone. He knew it was stupid – she wouldn't pick up – and if he dwelt on that for too long, he became angry at her, which just made him feel worse. He wondered, even as he knew the answer, why he hadn't gotten Taylor a cell phone. Danny didn't know what his daughter was doing, what would drive her to go out at night. She wasn't the type. He could tell himself that most fathers felt that way about their daughters, but at the same time, he knew. Taylor wasn't social. She didn't go to parties, she wouldn't drink, she wasn't even that interested in champagne when they celebrated the New Year together.
Poor Danny, he's so worried about his very introverted and a bit anti-social daughter "hugs Danny". I pity him, poor man. He cares so much for her well being, he can't even rest without knowing her at home, in safety. As for Taylor's mother, she's absent. They're either divorced, they're separated or WORSE...she's dead "hugs both Danny and Taylor". Its sad, no matter what happened to her mother, more reasons for Taylor to feel alone and abandoned. But she still has her caring father, which is a great thing, yes?
Two ominous possibilities kept nagging at him, both too believable. The first was that Taylor had gone out for fresh air, or even for a run. She wasn't happy, especially at school, he knew, and exercise was her way of working through it. He could see her doing it on a Sunday night, with a fresh week at school looming. He liked that her running made her feel better about herself, that she seemed to be doing it in a reasonable, healthy way. He just hated that she had to do it here, in this neighborhood. Because here, a skinny girl in her mid-teens was an easy target for attack. A mugging or worse – he couldn't even articulate the worst of the possibilities in his own thoughts without feeling physically sick. If she had gone out at eleven in the evening for a run and hadn't come back by three in the morning, then it meant something had happened.
He glanced out the window again, at that corner of the house where the pool of illumination beneath the streetlight would let him see her approaching. Nothing.
The second possibility wasn't much better. He knew Taylor was being bullied. Danny had found that out in January, when his little girl had been pulled out of school and taken to the hospital. Not the emergency room, but the psychiatric ward. She wouldn't say by whom, but under the influence of the drugs they had given her to calm down, she had admitted she was being victimized by bullies, using the plural to give him a clue that it was a they and not a he or a she. She hadn't mentioned it – the incident or the bullying – since. If he pushed, she only tensed up and grew more withdrawn. He had resigned himself to letting her reveal the details in her own time, but months had passed without any hints or clues being offered.
Ok, now I have tears in my eyes. I'm serious about, this is sadder with each paragraph. The first chapter who made me cry (I'm not ashamed to admit, I'm never ashamed of my emotions. Emotions are very human like after all. People who said that they're ashamed of their emotions, because they feel weak, are unskilled liars. They're the most emotional ones, they only try uselessly to hide this). Danny knows about the bullying but he can't do any shit because Taylor doesn't communicate with him. She either doesn't know how or she's too afraid (maybe because of his possible reactions against the bullies) to do it. She was so bad bullied, once, that she went through a trauma for a while. More than ever, the Trio Bitches who bullied her DESERVE TO DIE A SLOW, PAINFUL DEATH. I'll smile happily if I'll see them getting killed in one chapter, and when I say something, I keep my word (besides I have a dark, sadistic streak in me). No mercy for them.
There was precious little Danny could do on the subject, either. He had threatened to sue the school after his daughter had been taken to the hospital, and the school board had responded by settling, paying her hospital bills and promising they would look out for her to prevent such events from occurring in the future. It was a feeble promise made by a chronically overworked staff and it didn't do a thing to ease his worries. His efforts to have her change schools had been stubbornly countered with rules and regulations about the maximum travel times a student was allowed to have between home and a given school. The only other school within a reasonable distance of Taylor's place of residence was Arcadia High, and it was already desperately overcrowded with more than two hundred students on a list requesting admittance.
With all that in mind, when his daughter disappeared until the middle of the night, he couldn't shake the idea that the bullies might have lured her out with blackmail, threats or empty promises. He only knew about the one incident, the one that had landed her in the hospital, but it had been grotesque. It had been implied, but never elaborated on, that more had been going on. He could imagine these boys or girls that were tormenting his daughter, egging one another on as they came up with more creative ways to humiliate or harm her. Taylor hadn't said as much aloud, but whatever had been going on had been mean, persistent and threatening enough that Emma, Taylor's closest friend for years, had stopped spending time with her. It galled him.
Emma is a monster who deserve to be psychological tortured (every fucking day) until she'll completely lose her mind FOREVER and become a vegetable for the rest of her life (to see how it is to bully someone).
Fucking disgusting inhumane bitch (I still feel sorry for her parents but maybe they're exactly like her in terms of personality). I bet that Madison was the mastermind behind that grotesque bullying that put Taylor in the hospital. Poor Danny, poor Taylor "hugs them both, while wiping away few fresh tears and thinking at various tortures that those bitches should go through".
Impotent. Danny was helpless where it counted. There was no action he could take – his one call to the police at two in the morning had only earned him a tired explanation that the police couldn't act or look for her without something more to go on. If his daughter was still gone after twelve hours, he'd been told, he should call them again. All he could do was wait and pray with his heart in his throat that the phone wouldn't ring, a police officer or nurse on the other end ready to tell him what had happened to his daughter.
The slightest of vibrations in the house marked the escape of the warm air in the house to the cold outdoors, and there was a muffled whoosh as the kitchen door shut again. Danny Hebert felt a thrill of relief coupled with abject fear. If he went downstairs to find his daughter, would he find her hurting or hurt? Or would his presence make things worse, her own father seeing her at her most vulnerable after humiliation at the hands of bullies? She had told him, in every way except articulating it aloud, that she didn't want that. She had pleaded with him, with body language and averted eye contact, unfinished sentences and things left unsaid, not to ask, not to push, not to see, when it came to the bullying. He couldn't say why, exactly. Home was an escape from that, he'd suspected, and if he recognized the bullying, made it a reality here, maybe she wouldn't have that relief from it. Perhaps it was shame, that his daughter didn't want him to see her like that, didn't want to be that weak in front of him. He really hoped that wasn't the case. So he ran his fingers through his hair once more and sat down on the corner of the bed, elbows on his knees, hands on his head, and stared at his closed bedroom door. His ears were peeled for the slightest clue. The house was old, and it hadn't been a high quality building when it had been new, so the walls were thin and the structure prone to making noise at every opportunity. There was the faintest sound of a door closing downstairs. The bathroom? It wouldn't be the basement door, with no reason for her to go down there, and he couldn't imagine it was a closet, because after two or three minutes, the same door opened and closed again.
At least she returned home after such a long night. I think she's convinced that her father is sleeping now. She doesn't know the pain that the poor man is going through at that hour, his impotence to help her, to protect his dearest daughter against those monsters. If she'd have known all of this, maybe she'd give him a sign that she's at least ok. My heart cries for the suffering of this poor parent.
After something banged on the kitchen counter, there was little but the occasional groan of floorboards. Five or ten minutes after she had come in, there was the rhythmic creak of the stairs as she ascended. Danny thought about clearing his throat to let her know he was awake and available should she knock on his door, but decided against it. He was being cowardly, he thought, as if his clearing of his throat would give reality to his fears.
Her door shut carefully, almost inaudibly, with the slightest tap of door on doorframe. Danny stood, abruptly, opening his door, ready to cross the hall and knock on her door. To verify that his daughter was okay. He was stopped by the smell of jam and toast. She had made a late night snack. It filled him with relief. He couldn't imagine his daughter, after being mugged, tormented or humiliated, coming home to have toast with jam as a snack. Taylor was okay, or at least, okay enough to be left alone. Relief became anger. He was angry at Taylor, for making him worry, and then not even going out of her way to let him know she was okay. He felt a smouldering resentment towards the city, for having neighborhoods and people he couldn't trust his daughter to. He hated the bullies that preyed on his daughter. Underlying it all was frustration with himself. Danny Hebert was the one person he could control in all of this, and Danny Hebert had failed to do anything that mattered. He hadn't gotten answers, hadn't stopped the bullies, hadn't protected his daughter. Worst of all was the idea that this might have happened before, with him simply sleeping through it rather than laying awake.
This poor parent is full of anger...and impotence...and hate...and frustration, all those negative feelings are torturing him every day and every night. He can't do anything against bullies, he's angry and frustrated over his impotence, towards people who're hurting his daughter, towards the whole city for being so attractive and cool at its surface but so rotten and miserable at its core. He's impotent and filled with hate and desperation and Taylor is incapable of talking to him and be opened about her problems and both these people, father and daughter, are so beautifully flawed and so flawlessly imperfect.
He stopped himself from walking into his daughter's room, from shouting at her and demanding answers, even if it was what he wanted, more than anything. Where had she been, what had she been doing? Was she hurt? Who were these people that were tormenting her? He knew that by confronting her and getting angry at her, he would do more harm than good, would threaten to sever any bond of trust they had forged between them.
Danny's father had been a powerful, heavyset man, and Danny hadn't gotten any of those genes. Danny had been a nerd when the term was still young in popular culture, stick thin, awkward, short sighted, glasses, bad fashion sense. What he had inherited was his father's famous temper. It was quick to rise and startling in its intensity. Unlike his father, Danny had only ever hit someone in anger twice, both times when he was much younger. That said, just like his father, he could and would go off on tirades that would leave people shaking. Danny had long viewed the moment he'd started to see himself as a man, an adult, to be the point in time where he had sworn to himself that he wouldn't ever lose his temper with his family. He wouldn't pass that on to his child the way his father had to him.
He had never broken that oath with Taylor, and knowing that was what kept him contained in his room, pacing back and forth, red in the face and wanting to punch something. While he'd never gotten angry at her, never screamed at her, he knew Taylor had seen him angry. Once, he had been at work, talking to a mayor's aide. The man had told Danny that the revival projects for the Docks were being cancelled and that, contrary to promises, there were to be layoffs rather than new jobs for the already beleaguered Dockworkers. Taylor had been spending the morning in his office on the promise that they would go out for the afternoon, and had been in a position to see him fly off the handle in the worst way with the man. Four years ago, he had lost his temper with Annette for the first time, breaking his oath to himself. That had been the last time he had seen her. Taylor hadn't been there to see him shouting at her mother, but he was fairly certain she'd heard some of it. It shamed him.
Taylor's grandfather was a violent and impulsive man. Taylor's father is an angry and temperamental man, but at least he can control his aggressiveness. Or at least, he's trying his best. Now I understand why his wife left him, he was violent towards her and she was, understandable, afraid of him. Maybe she didn't completely abandoned her family, maybe she's seeing Taylor at times, when Danny is not in their near vicinity. I'll not judge (neither condemn or congratulate) Annette until I'll find more about her relationship with her daughter and her real reasons for leaving her family.
The third and last time that he had lost his temper where Taylor had been in a position to know had been when she had been hospitalized following the incident in January. He'd screamed at the school's principal, who had deserved it, and at Taylor's then-Biology teacher, who probably hadn't. It had been bad enough that a nurse had threatened to call for a police officer, and Danny, barely mollified, had stomped from the hallway to the hospital room to find his daughter more or less conscious and wide eyed in reaction. Danny harbored a deep fear that the reason Taylor hadn't offered any details on the bullying was out of fear he would, in blind rage, do something about it. It made him feel sick, the notion that he might have contributed something to his daughter's self imposed isolation in how she was dealing with her problems.
It took Danny a long time to calm down, helped by telling himself over and over that Taylor was okay, that she was home, that she was safe. It was something of a blessing that, as the anger faded, he felt drained. He climbed into the left side of the bed, leaving the right side empty out of a habit he'd yet to break, and pulled the covers up around himself. He would talk to Taylor in the morning. Get an answer of some sort. He dreamed of the ocean.
Yes, she's afraid that he might kill those bitches for bullying her and went to jail if she'll ever tell him about her problems. She cares for her father in her own way. Danny is such a difficult man to go along, very flawed and even dangerous (if he's pissed enough on someone) but in the same time, he's a GREAT father, he's doing his best for his daughter, he knows his flaws and is trying his hardest to control them, all in all, he's a very realistic character that I'm fascinated with, I suffer for him, I CARE for him, and I wish for him and his daughter to get closest in the future. Good night, Danny, and sleep well.
Good night everyone, and thank you for reading this review.
Hello, my friends, time for a new review. I just noticed that I finished the first Arc and I'm going to start the next one, RIGHT NOW. Its called Insinuation and I have no idea what its all about. Maybe someone will insinuate something that is very important to the plot, this is all I can think for moment. I have to tell you something: after I'll finish Worm, I'll make a list with how much I like each Arc starting with the Arcs I like the most and finishing with the ones I dislike the most. I'll also explain the motivations about why I like more or less a certain Arc. Hope nobody minds. If you don't like, you don't have to read my stupid thoughts, after all. Everyone is free to do as they please. But right now, I'm not going to tell if I liked the first Arc or not (I'll do the same with every other Arc). But I took care to write somewhere my thoughts about it, so I won't forget when I'll reach the very end. Surprise, surprise. Alright, let's start with 2.01 | Worm
I woke to the muffled sound of the radio in the bathroom. Reaching over to my alarm clock, I turned it around. 6:28. Which made today a weekday like any other. My alarm was set for six thirty, but I almost never needed it, because my dad was always in the shower at the same time. Routines defined us.
As a wave of fatigue swept over me, I wondered if I might be sick. It took me a few moments of staring up at the ceiling to remember the events of last night. Small wonder I was tired. I had gotten home, snuck inside and gone to bed at close to three thirty, just three hours ago. With all that had happened, I hadn't slept those full three hours, either.
I forced myself out of bed. As a slave to my routine, it would be wrong to do otherwise. I made myself change into sweats and walk down to the kitchen sink to wash my face, fighting to keep awake. I was sitting at the kitchen table, pulling on my sneakers, when my dad came downstairs in his bathrobe. My dad is not what you'd call an attractive man. Beanpole thin, weak chin, thinning dark hair that was on the cusp of baldness, big eyes and glasses that magnified those eyes further. As he entered the kitchen, he looked surprised to see me there. That's just the way my dad always looked: constantly bewildered. That, and a little defeated.
Time for a new day of the rest of Taylor's life. Just joking, she's very young, she's in great shape, she's a strong little lady, she has all her life nicely growing right before her eyes. Yes, I agree with Taylor about us being slaves of our routine. I personally will never feel entirely good if I'll not do things that I got used to do each freaking day, for example like listening music, talking with my cyberfriends on social websites (or real friends face to face) or (something still new that I already fell in love with) writing Worm's more or less non-sense reviews. Back to the story, maybe she'll start to communicate better with her father and share with him all her hidden fears, emotional pain she's going through, because I'm sure that Danny is more than ready to offer her a listening ear and all the help he can. Just try it, Taylor, you won't regret it. You don't have to tell him something about your fight with Lung or the names of your bullies. Just talk, tell him what you think and how you feel and is enough for moment.
"Good morning, kiddo," he said, entering the kitchen and leaning down to kiss the crown of my head.
"Hey, dad." He was already stepping towards the fridge as I replied. He looked over his shoulder, "A little glum?" "Hunh?" "You sound down," he said. I shook my head, "Tired. I didn't sleep well." There was the slap of bacon hitting the frying pan. It was sizzling by the time he spoke, "You know, you could go back to bed, sleep in for another hour or so. You don't have to go on your run." I smiled. It was equal parts annoying and sweet, that my dad hated me running. He worried about my safety, and couldn't turn down a chance to drop hints that I should stop, or be safer, or join a gym. I wasn't sure if he'd worry more or less if I told him about my powers.
"You know I do, dad. If I don't go today, it'll be that much harder to make myself get up and do it tomorrow." "You've got the, uh…" "I've got the tube of pepper spray in my pocket," I said. He bobbed his head in acknowledgement. It was only moments later that I realized I didn't have it. The pepper spray was with my costume, in the coal chute in the basement. I felt a pang of guilt at realizing I'd lied to my dad.
She's tired (with 3 hours of sleep, who wouldn't be?), she still feels sore from the fight last night and she refuses to talk to her father, besides a dialogue about routine things "sighs". That's not good, that's not good at all. Maybe she's more opened to her mother, maybe she'll call Annette later, when her father is not around and maybe we'll get to know what kind of relationship she has with her mother. So many maybe(s).
"I'll get it," I said, heading to the fridge for the orange juice. While I was at the fridge, I also grabbed some applesauce. As I returned to the table, my dad slapped some french toast on the frying pan to join the bacon. The room filled with the aroma of the cooking food. I helped myself to the applesauce. "You know Gerry?" my dad asked. I shrugged. "You met him once or twice when you've visited me at work. Big guy, burly, Black Irish?" Shrugging again, I took a bite of french toast. My dad was part of the Dockworkers Association, as the Union spokesperson and head of hiring. With the state of the Docks being what they were, that meant my dad was pretty much in charge of telling everyone that there were no jobs to be had, day after day. "Rumor's going around he found work. Guess with who." "Dunno," I said, around a mouthful of food. "He's going to be one of Über and Leet's henchmen." I raised my eyebrows. Über and Leet were local villains with a video game theme. They were pretty much as incompetent as villains could be while staying out of jail. They barely even rated as B-list.
So, Danny is the Dockworkers Association's spokesman and head of hiring. He's a rather busy man, I might add. Ha ha ha, I love how they're sitting at the table, eating and talking about villains like this is the most normal thing to do for people in their world. Man, this world is so similar with us, yet so different. People are so used with parahumans, villains or heroes that they include them in their everyday discussions (in the same manner superheroes geeks like me love to babble any time they can about their fictional favorite heroes and villains lol. The difference is that, in our case everything is pure fiction. While in their case, is everyday reality). Uber and Leet have video game related superpowers. Maybe they can create video game items out of thin air or maybe they can teleport people straight into videogames (nope, this would be a very strong power and Taylor already suggested that they suck at being villains). Or maybe they're thinkers capable to invent video game items, but they're not very good at their job. Lol, now I want so much to see those idiots in action. I see them as funny incompetents.
"They going to make him wear a uniform? Bright primary colors, Tron style?"
My dad chuckled, "Probably." "We're supposed to talk about how the powers thing has influenced our lives in class today. Maybe I'll mention that." We ate in silence for a minute or two. "I heard you come in late last night," he said. I just gave him a small nod and took another bite of french toast, even as my heart rate tripled and my mind searched for excuses. "Like I said," I finally opened my mouth, looking down at my plate, "I just couldn't sleep. I couldn't get my thoughts to settle down. I got out of bed and tried pacing, but it didn't help, so I stepped outside and walked around the neighborhood." I wasn't totally lying. I'd had nights like that. Last night just hadn't been one of them, and I had gone walking around the neighborhood, even if it was in a different way than I'd implied.
"Christ, Taylor," my father answered, "This isn't the kind of area where you can walk around in the middle of the night." "I had the pepper spray," I protested, lamely. That wasn't a lie, at least. "What if you get caught off guard? What if the guy has a knife, or a gun?" my father asked.
Tron? They also have the same movies as ours? Great, just great. Danny tries to talk with Taylor about more than useless villains and their henchmen, but his daughter continues to be stubborn and gives him only half of answers. As usual. He's honestly worried about the fact that she might be hurt. Poor father, if only he knew about the fire powers that the guy whom she fought had, he'll flip his shit and go crazy with concern. Maybe even lock Taylor in her room overnight. Which won't be a bad idea lol. Just joking, but still, she could have died if the 4 Horsemen of Apocalypse wouldn't give her a helping...paw.
"What's going on, that has you so anxious you can't sleep?" he questioned me.
"School," I said, swallowing around a lump in my throat, "Friends, the lack thereof." "It's not better?" he asked, carefully stepping around the elephant in the room, the bullies. If it was, I wouldn't be having problems, would I? I just gave him a one shoulder shrug and forced myself to take another bite of french toast. My shoulder twinged a little as it made the bruises from last night felt. As much as I didn't feel like eating, I knew my stomach would be growling at me before lunch if I didn't. That was even without accounting for the energy I burned running, let alone the escapades of last night. When my dad realized I didn't have an answer for him, he resumed eating. He only had one bite before he put his fork down again with a clink on the plate. "No more going out in the middle of the night," he said, "Or I'm putting a bell on the doors."
He would, too. I just nodded and promised myself I would be more careful. When I had come in, I had been so tired and sore that I hadn't given any thought to the click of the door, the rattle of the lock or the creaks of floorboards that were older than me. "Okay," I said, adding, "I'm sorry." Even with that, I felt a twinge of guilt. My apology was sincere in feeling, but I was making it with the knowledge that I would probably do the same thing again. It felt wrong.
No detailed word about bullies, as usual. Well, at least she apologized to her father, which is a good start. She's either afraid that he might keep his promise about the bell on the doors, or she honestly feels sorry about lying her father and hiding so many things from him. She loves him, its easy to see that, but she's not brave, motivated and trustful enough to tell him everything. I understand her, I understand her perfectly. But I also feels sorry for Danny. Very, very sorry.
He gave me a smile that seemed almost like an unspoken 'I'm sorry too'.
"Going on your run?" "Yeah," I said, put my dishes in the beaten up old dishwasher and bent down to give my dad a hug on my way to the door. "Taylor, have you been smoking?" I shook my head. "Your hair is, uh, burnt. At the ends, there." I thought back to the previous night. Getting hit in the back by one of Lung's blasts of flame. Shrugging, I suggested, "Stove, maybe?" "Be safe," my dad said, emphasizing each word. I took that as my cue to go, heading out the side door and breaking into an all out run the moment I was past the chain link gate at the side of the house.
He's very observant. He noticed her burned hair and she had to lie again. More baby lies climbing up the already huge pile of lies "sighs". I wonder if she'll go and visit her mother or meet her while she's running. I wonder if she'll tell her mother the same lies. I wonder so many things and I can't wait to read the next chapter.
A thing I'll do in a short time, after I'll eat something. See you later.
Ok, the right time for the second chapter of the second arc 2.02 | Worm. My hopeful predictions for this chapter are about Taylor meeting and changing few words with her mother, maybe telling her more than she told to her father and less lies. I want to get to know Annette and maybe the real motivation beneath her failed marriage with Danny (its possible that Danny's outburst of anger isn't the main cause for her departure). Let's read and see what will happen. Btw, just to let you know: everytime when characters are in their cape roles, I'll call them after their code names. When they're in civilian, I'll call them using their real names, if I know them, that's it. For example, I don't know Lung's real name, so until I'll know how his parents decided to name him, I'll always call him Lung. Tattletale called Taylor- Bug- so, I'll us Bug when she's in her costume, until she'll call herself otherwise.
The run had helped to wake me up, as did the hot shower and a cup of the coffee my dad had left in the pot. Even so, the fatigue didn't help the feeling of disorientation over just how normal the day seemed as I made my way to school. Just a matter of hours ago, I had been in a life and death fight, I had even met Armsmaster. Now it was a day like any other.
I felt a bit nervous as I got to homeroom. Having basically skipped two classes the previous Friday, failing to turn in a major assignment, I figured that Mrs. Knott probably knew already. I didn't feel relieved when Mrs. Knott glanced up at me and gave a tight smile before turning her attention back to her computer. That just meant the humiliation would be redoubled if and when class was interrupted by someone coming down from the office. A part of me just wanted to miss this class too, just to avoid the potential humiliation and avoid drawing attention.
All in all, I felt anxious as I made my way to my computer, which kind of sucked because Computer class was one of the few parts of the school day I didn't usually dread. For one thing, it was the one class in which I was doing well. More to the point, neither Madison, Sophia nor Emma were in this class, though some of their friends were. Those girls didn't usually feel the need to harass me without the trio around, and I was further removed from them because I was in the advanced stream of the class. A good three quarters of the people in the room were computer illiterate, being from families that didn't have the money for computers or families that didn't have much interest in the things, so they practiced typing without looking at the keyboard and had lessons in using search engines. By contrast, I was in the group that was learning some basic programming and spreadsheets. It didn't do a lot for my already geeky reputation, but I could deal.
So, right after the running habit, shower and coffee, she's back at school? No meeting with her mother? Man, I have a bad feeling about this, she's either in pretty bad relationship with her mother or her mother is dead. I hate to think at any of these possibilities, but every one of them seems very plausible, giving the total absence of Annette from her daughter's life. The positive thing of the day is that we're not going to see the Trio of Bitches any time soon, because they're not in Computer class. Great, I hope that I'm not going to see any one of them for this entire chapter. With them missing, its like an intense breath of fresh air for both Taylor and me after we stayed in a very smog-filled area for a couple of hours. Those bitches are very toxic to have around (or read about).
Mrs. Knott was an alright teacher, if not the most hands on; she was usually content to give us advanced students an in-class assignment and then focus on the more rambunctious majority for the rest of the class. This suited me just fine – I usually wrapped up the assignment in a half hour, leaving me an hour to use as I saw fit. I had been recalling and going over the events of the previous night during my morning run, and the first thing that I did when the ancient desktop finished its agonizing load process was to start digging for information.
The go-to place for news and discussion on capes was Parahumans Online. The front page had constant updates on recent, international news featuring capes. From there, I could go to the wiki, where there was information on individual capes, groups and events, or to the message boards, which broke down into nearly a hundred sub-boards, for specific cities and capes. I opened the wiki in one tab, then found and opened the message board for Brockton Bay in another. I had the sense that either Tattletale or Grue were the leader of the group I had run into. Turning my attention to Tattletale, I searched the wiki. The result I got was disappointingly short, starting with a header reading "This article is a stub. Be a hero and help us expand it." There was a one sentence blurb on how she was a alleged villain active in Brockton Bay, with a single blurry picture. The only new information for me was that her costume was lavender. A search of the message boards turned up absolutely nothing. There wasn't even a hint as to what her power was.
We get to know another one of Taylor's teachers. A woman this time. Mrs. Knott, who seems to be a nice teacher, in the same manner as Mr. G. is. Taylor seems to like her (but she doesn't like Mr. G. for reasons that are still very mysterious to me). Taylor is looking after informations about the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse on Parahumans Online. They have this thing too. Cool. Maybe I'm going to find the group's real name. I'm a bit excited about informations, in general. So Taylor thinks that either Tattletale or Grue are leaders. Well, I'm 60% convinced that Tattletale is the leader but its going to be a real TWIST if Bitch will turn out to be their leader. I'll flip my shit if something like this will happen. Interesting is that nobody knows anything about this Tattletale girl while she knows everything about everyone lol. This is pretty fun. I like Tattletale even before knowing her better and I have a weird feeling that she'll be my favorite of their group. She seems to be a smart-ass , along with her vulpine grin and a kick-ass power. The kind of character I love to read about.
I looked up Grue. There was actually information about him, but nothing detailed or definitive. The wiki stated he had been active for nearly three years, dealing in petty crimes such as robbing small stores and doing some work as an enforcer for those who wanted a little superpowered muscle along for a job. Recently, he had turned to higher scale crime, including corporate theft and robbing a casino, together with his new team. His power was listed as darkness generation in the sidebar under his picture. The picture seemed crisp enough, but the focus of it, Grue, was just a blurry black silhouette in the center.
I searched for Bitch, next. No results. I did another search for her more official title, Hellhound, and got a wealth of information. Rachel Lindt had never made any real attempt to hide her identity. She had apparently been homeless through most of her criminal career, just living on the streets and moving on whenever police or a cape came after her. The sightings and encounters with the homeless girl ended around a year ago – I figured that was when she joined forces with Grue, Tattletale and Regent. The picture in the sidebar was taken from surveillance camera footage – an unmasked, dark haired girl who I wouldn't have called pretty. She had a squarish, blunt-featured face with thick eyebrows. She was riding atop one of her monstrous 'dogs' like a jockey rides a horse, down the middle lane of a street. According to the wiki entry, her powers manifested when she was fourteen, followed almost immediately by her demolishing the foster home she had been living in, injuring her foster mother and two other foster children in the process. This was followed by a two year series of skirmishes and retreats across Maine as various heroes and teams tried to apprehend her, and she either defeated them or successfully evaded capture.
So Grue is the MUSCLE of the team. He's their bodyguard, their enforcer. I was right when I said that he looks like a guy who kick lots of asses. Awesome. He also has DARK GENERATION powers. Yeeeeeeeees, I guessed right. Grue can completely blind someone then beat the crap out of them without breaking a sweat. They're thieves and robbers, but not criminals. They're petty villains indeed, but not monsters like Lung and Bakuda, for example. I like them, I really like them so far. Bitch's real name is Rachel (Lindt seems like a german name to me so she might have german ancestry). Finally, we got a name! Rachel is a homeless child (I was right when I was thinking at her as an almost feral girl). She's a pretty dangerous villain, she attacked her foster mother and foster siblings, and she spent two years fighting with SUCCESS against anyone who tried to hurt or capture her. Good God, poor child, I feel pity for her, if I won't be afraid of her monster dogs and her reaction, I would have hugged her if she'd be real. Rachel doesn't deserve this horrible life, no child should have this life "sighs".
She had no powers that would have made her any stronger or faster than the average Jane, but she was apparently able to turn ordinary dogs into the creatures I had seen on the rooftop. Monsters the size of a car, all muscle, bone, fang and claw. A red box near the bottom of the page read, "Rachel Lindt has a public identity, but is known to be particularly hostile, antisocial and violent. If recognized, do not approach or provoke. Leave the area and notify authorities as to her last known location." At the very bottom of the page was a list of links that were related to her: two fansites and a news article relating to her early activities. A search of the message boards turned up too many results, leaving me unable to sift through the crap, the arguments, the speculation and the villain worship to find any genuine morsels of information. If nothing else, she was notorious. I sighed and moved on, making a mental note to do more investigation when I had the time.
The last member of the group was Regent. Given what Armsmaster had said about the guy being low profile, I didn't expect to find much. I was surprised to find less than that. Nothing. My search on the wiki turned up only a default response, "There are no results matching this query. 32 unique IP addresses have searched the Parahumans.net Wiki for 'Regent' in 2011. Would you like to create the page?" The message board didn't turn up anything else. I even did a search for alternate spellings of his name, such as Regence and Recant, in case I had heard it wrong. Nothing turned up. If my mood had been on the sour side as I got to homeroom, the dead ends only made it worse. I turned my attention to the in-class assignment, making a working calculator in Visual Basic, but it was too trivial to distract me. The work from Thursday and Friday had already given us the tools to do the job, so it was really just busywork. I didn't mind learning stuff, but work for the sake of doing work was annoying. I did the bare minimum, checked it for any bugs, moved the file to the 'completed work' folder and returned to surfing the web. All in all, the work barely took fifteen minutes.
So, one of my theories about Rachel's powers is right (I really didn't want this theory to turn out to be true): she can turn normal dogs into monsters. Poor dogs, I don't want to imagine the PAIN they went through during their transformation. Maybe its painless, but...I highly doubt about. So Rachel is a dangerous motherfucker with a fucked up life story and a more fucked up superpower. But this won't stop me to feel bad for her "sends hugs to Rachel while keeping an appreciative distance". At least she has fans.
Nobody knows nothing about Regent. Hmm, in the same manner nobody knows anything about Tattletale (except for her costume's color). Maybe he has powers similar with Tattletale or maybe he's a tinker with computers and can delete any information about him, no matter how small it is, even before the general public is seeing it. I'm not very good with computers and I don't have too many ideas about hacking but if Regent would be a tinker he'd know for sure what to do. Isn't right?
I looked up Lung on the wiki, which I had done often enough before, as part of my research and preparation for being a superhero. I'd wanted to be sure I knew who prominent local villains were and what they could do. The search for 'Lung' redirected to a catch-all page on his gang, the ABB, with quite a bit of detailed information. The information on Lung's powers was pretty in line with my own experience, though there was no mention of the super-hearing or him being fireproof. I debated adding it, but decided against it. There were security concerns with my submission being tracked back to Winslow High, and then to me. I figured it would probably be deleted as unsupported speculation, anyways.
The section beneath the description of Lung and his powers covered his subordinates. He was estimated to have forty or fifty thugs working for him across Brockton Bay, largely drawn from the ranks of Asian youth. It was pretty unconventional for a gang to include members of the variety of nationalities that the ABB did, but Lung had made it a mission to conquer and absorb every gang with Asian members and many without. Once he had the manpower he needed, the non-Asian gangs were cannibalized for assets, their members discarded. Even though there were no more major gangs in the east end of town to absorb, he was still recruiting zealously. His method, now, was to go after anyone older than twelve and younger than sixty. It didn't matter if you were a gang member or not. If you were Asian and you lived in Brockton Bay, Lung and his people expected you to either join or to pay tribute one way or another. There had been local news reports on it, newspaper articles, and I could remember seeing signs in the guidance counselor's office detailing where people who were targeted in this way could go for help.
So, Taylor's highschool is called Winslow High. Good to know. More informations about ABB and Lung and their recruiting system which...ABSOLUTE SUCKS! It seems like they force a part of the asians to become their members, they don't care if they're children or if they really don't want to become gang thugs. What an asshole this chinese dragon can be, and we're going to find more informations about the Mad Scientist Terrorist and the Teleporter. Let's read what Taylor is reading.
I already had some general knowledge about Oni Lee, but I was intrigued to see there were recent updates to his wiki entry. There were specific details on his powers: He could teleport, but when he did so, he didn't disappear. As he teleported, his original self, for lack of a better term, would stay where it was and remain active for five to ten seconds before disintegrating into a cloud of carbon ash. Essentially, he could create another version of himself anywhere nearby, while the old version could stick around long enough to distract or attack you. If that wasn't scary enough, there was an report of him holding a grenade in his hand as he repeatedly duplicated himself, with his short lived duplicates acting as suicide bombers. Topping it all off, Oni Lee's wiki page had a similar red warning box to the one that Bitch/Hellhound had on hers, minus the bit about his public identity. From what they knew about him, authorities had seen fit to note him a sociopath. The warning covered the same essential elements: exceedingly violent, dangerous to approach, should not be provoked, and so on. I glanced at his picture. His costume consisted of a black bodysuit with a black bandoleer and belt for his knives, guns and grenades. The only color on him was an ornate Japanese-style demon mask, crimson with two green stripes down either side. Except for the mask, his costume gave off the distinct impression of a ninja, which just added weight to the notion that this was a guy who could and would slide a knife between your ribs.
Bakuda was a new entry, added to the ABB wiki page just ten days ago. The picture only showed her from the shoulders up, a girl with straight black hair, large opaque goggles over her eyes and a metal mask with a gas mask styled filter covering the lower half of her face. A braided cord of black, yellow and green wires looped over one of her shoulders. I couldn't pinpoint her ethnicity with the mask and goggles, and her age wasn't any easier to figure out. The wiki had a lot of the same details Armsmaster had mentioned to me. Bakuda had essentially held a university ransom and she did it with her superhuman ability to design and fabricate high tech bombs. There was a link to a video titled 'Bomb Threat @ Cornell', but I didn't think it wise to play it in school, especially without headphones. I made a mental note to check it out when I got home.
Oni Lee is another scary motherfucker who can BOTH teleport around and create temporary clones that can be used as suicide bombers. Now I imagine Nightcrawler from X-Men going all nuts and Al-Qaida on people and this is not a good image. Even if is pretty cool, I have to admit. Still, not good. I like Oni Lee's costume, but he sucks as a human being, he's bad to the bones. Ethnicity is not something hard to guess when it comes to the other crazy Lung's lieutenant. She's most likely japanese, judging by the codename she choose- Bakuda. Her mask is ridiculous , but her powers are excessive dangerous and she's psycho so she's not someone to make fun of or underestimate, only because of her ridiculous mask . Imagine if Bakuda would build a nuclear bomb big as a fucking big city. If she'll detonate it, she can destroy half of a continent. This screams: DANGER, DANGER, DANGER! Bakuda is everything people fear about terrorism and nuclear war. She's like both those horrible plagues of the modern world personified into a single girl.
The next thing that caught my eye was the section heading titled 'Defeats and Captures'. I scrolled down to read it. According to the wiki, Lung had apparently suffered a number of minor defeats at the hands of various teams, ranging from the Guild to the local teams of New Wave, the Wards and the Protectorate, but consistently managed to evade capture until last night. A blurb read, ' Armsmaster successfully ambushed and defeated the leader of the ABB, who was weakened from a recent encounter with a rival gang. Lung was taken to the PHQ for holding until the villain's trial by teleconference. Given Lung's extensive and well documented criminal history, it is expected he will face imprisonment in the Birdcage should he be found guilty at trial.'
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I wasn't sure what to think. By all rights, I should have been angry that Armsmaster took the credit for the fight that could have cost me my life. Instead, I felt a building excitement. I felt like shaking the shoulder of the guy sitting next to me and point to the screen, saying, "Me, I made that possible! Me!"
With a renewed enthusiasm, I switched tabs to the message board and began looking to see what people were saying about it. A post by a fan or minion of Lung threatened violence against Armsmaster. There was a request by someone asking for more information on the fight. I was given pause by one post that asked whether Bakuda could or would use a large scale bomb and the threat of potentially thousands or hundreds of thousands dead, to ransom Lung back. I tried to put that out of my mind. If it happened, it would be the responsibility of heroes better and more experienced than I.
I know that you was the one who fucked Lung up (along with the 4 Riders that I still don't know how they call themselves as a team) but you NEED to sit in your bank and let others take the credit, because Bakuda and Oni Lee are not exactly the people that will spare your life if they'll find you and corner you. Be careful, Taylor, this is a very dangerous situation and its better to not get involved (at least until you'll be more experienced with fights and you'll find more intelligent ways to deal with your enemies).
I opened up the advanced search page for the Parahumans.net message board and did a search for multiple terms. I included insect, spider, swarm, bug, plague, and a mess of other terms that had struck me when I had been trying to brainstorm a good hero name. I narrowed the timeframe of posts to search for posts made within the past 12 hours and hit Search.
My efforts turned up two posts. One referred to a villain called Pestilence, active in the UK. Apparently Pestilence was one of the people who could use 'magic'. That is, he was if you believed magic was real, and not just some convoluted or deluded interpretation of a given set of powers
The second post was in the 'Connections' section of the message board, where rescued damsels left their contact information for their dashing heroes, where conventions and fan gatherings were organized and where people posted job offers for capes and the cape-obsessed. Most were cryptic or vague, referring to stuff only the people in question would know. The message was titled, simply, "Bug" I clicked it and waited impatiently for the outdated system and overloaded school modem to load up the page. What I got was brief. Subject: Bug Owe you one. Would like to repay the favor. Meet? Send a message, Tt. The post was followed by two pages of people commenting. Three people suggested it was something important, while a half dozen more people decried them as tinfoil hats, Parahumans.net's term for conspiracy theorists. It was meaningful, though. I couldn't interpret it any other way; Tattletale had found a way to get in contact with me.
I think this british Pestilence villain can generate plagues, infecting everyone that he probably touches. His name also reminds me of the one of the Horsemen of Apocalypse. Fuck magic when it comes to Worm, btw, those are alien- given superpowers, not magic. Its a big difference.
On a surprising and positive note, Tattletale contacted Taylor. It looks like she wants to recruit Taylor as a fifth member of her team. Not bad, not bad at all. I like this evolution of the story. Supervillain Bug...maybe I'm crazy but I'll wholeheartedly agree!
Another chapter finished. Bye, my friends, see you tomorrow.
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