A place for Taylors to relax and unwind.
Yes, you read that right. Taylors. PLURAL.
Yes, you read that right. Taylors. PLURAL.
Little Owl Bar & Grills
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Chapter 1: A whole lot of Taylors (only three, actually)
In the spirit of 'If you can't find the fic, write it' I present you the plot bunny I have been trying to find for the last few days. Crossposted from SB.
Taylor Hebert stared at what she assumed was her afterlife.
The white void was more or less expected. There didn't appear to be any source of illumination, yet she could see everything (or rather the lack of anything) clearly, even able to distinguish the ground beneath her, which looked like smooth marble. That her clothes was completely clean of the filth from the locker was a surprise, but a welcomed one. She couldn't imagine being stuck in some kind of limbo smelling like blood and used tampon with no way to wash them off.
What's unusual was the quaint two-storied building in front of her with a simple designed sign board that read 'Little Owl Bar & Grills'. It looked nothing like the Fugly Bob's, but the architecture and exterior design just exuded this air that made you know it was a family restaurant, from the large blinded windows decorated with small flower pots to the couple of wooden benches on both side of the double doors.
The sheer contrast between the normalcy of the building and the seemingly unending void surrounding it only served to make the whole deal more unnerving.
Her eyes were drawn toward the small black board with neat handwritings in multi-colored chalk.
'WELCOME TO LITTLE OWL BAR
Please take note of the following rules before entering:
- If your power involves controlling or summoning creatures or substances that may infest or contaminate the establishment, please keep a tight control of them.
- Basic courtesy is expected and enforced. No intentional intimidation, bully, harassment, provocation, etc allowed.
- You may bring guests of your own, but be understanding if others may react negatively to their presence.
- Refer to the bar owner for a self-updating copy of the rulebook on things no longer allowed inside the bar.'
The content was unusual, but at least a little reassuring. Gathering her courage, Taylor twisted the doornob and peered inside. A soft chime came from the bell above the doorframe, and she took a careful look around the interior.
It looked to be an ordinary diner slash bar. There were about a dozen four-seat tables, some with sofas or beanbag chairs for seats. At the back, she could see some kind of small stage with curtain and a couple of ceiling spotlights. To the left was a bar counter with an assortment of bottles, cans, cups, and dispensers. It was quite, cozy, with the only movement being from the woman arranging something in the overhead bar cabinets.
"Oh, you must be new here, Taylor." The woman turned around, and Taylor was struck with how ... familiar she looked. "Come on in, take a seat."
The slightly messy mane of long, curly black hair. The pair of large brown eyes framed behind black-rimmed glasses. The pair of thin lips that were just a little bit too wide for her liking. The features that she would see in the mirror every morning, individually similar yet so distinctly different on that mature face that it was like looking at a funhouse version of herself.
"The first time can be confusing, I know. I can answer any question you have." The woman held up an empty glass with a couple of ice cubes. "You want something to drink? We have water, juice, and soda. And beer if you feel like it."
"Just...just water please." Taylor warily took the offered glass. A tentitive sip proved that it was just that, plain water, if a bit more refreshing that what usually came from the taps back home. Or maybe it was because we was just that thirsty from being stuck in the locker for so long. "Who are you? And how do you know my name?"
"Well that's an easy answer." The woman chuckled, and Taylor had to force down the sudden stab of pain at the familiar sound. "It's because I am also Taylor. It's one of those things that stay weirdly consistent across the multiverse, actually. Kind of funny when you actually think about it."
Her mind zeroed in on that word. "Multiverse? As in alternate Earths? So you're a different version of me." It kinda made sense seeing as she appeared like a Taylor who was a bit older. Early 20s, if she had to guess.
"Yes and no. It's complicated. While there are some features that the majority of us Taylors share like our first name, they are only enough to highlight the differences. Each of us may have wildly different background, personality traits, species, or even physics system from one another. Some of our regulars aren't even from us, or human for that matter. "
The bell above the door chimed. They both turned to look at the person entering, and Taylor (this was going to get confusing quickly) had to resist the urge to rub her eyes. Another person who looked just like her, except not. Uniform that looked too fancy to be Winslow, yet was distinctly not Acadia. Rounded corners on her glasses instead of square. Hair that was tied back in a low ponytail.
"Hi Bar Taylor! Slow day today, huh?" She looked around the place, before zeroing in Taylor. "Oh, we have a new face today?" The girl sounded happy, if a bit tired, to meet the older her. With a bit of effort, she managed to fit throught the door what Taylor realized was a giant grocery bag filled with veggies. This new Taylor walked toward them and, with a grunt, set the bag on the counter. "Here you go, some greens and spices you asked for last time."
Bar Taylor (an apt nickname, if a bit uncreative if she were to be honest) peered inside the bag and took out the receit. Her eyes gained this strange glint as she smiled widely, and she hugged the bag like it was teddy bear. "Excuse me a bit, Taylor. I got to throw these in the kitchen real quick." And there she went, disappearing behind the curtained door at the back.
"So, hi. Nice to meet you. I'm Taylor Costa-Brown."
"Taylor Hebert." She hesitated, but decided to ask anyway. "Did you say Costa-Brown as in..."
"Yes, my mom is Rebecca Costa-Brown, Chief Director of the PRT in my world." She said with a sigh. "That's why those of us here just call me PRT Princess Taylor."
"Sorry." She appologized sheepishly. Must be a touchy subject.
"It's okay. I'm kind of used to it at this point."
"That does remind me though." Bar Taylor walked out with a glass of what looked like grape soda and set it in front of PRT Princess Taylor, who took it gratefully. "Do try to think of a nickname for yourself. That's what we use to avoid confusion here. Better do it fast before your are saddled with something unflattering. I try to keep them from being too mean about it, but it has become something of a hazing ritual at this point."
"Yeah, they almost called me CBTaylor." PRT Princess Taylor sipped on her drink glumly.
"They aren't often vicious about it, and won't push things too far if you take offense to the name." Bar Taylor amended with a wince. "But teenagers gotta teenager."
"Just try to avoid Wolf Priestess Taylor, Kitsune Taylor, Catgirl Taylor,... Actually, avoid all Taylors with some kind of animal feature and look too mischievous for their own good. They tend to play pranks on people, especially new Taylors." PRT Princess Taylor set down her half-empty glass of soda. "Can I get a double cheese burger?"
"Just...just how many Taylors are there?" It's starting to get overwhelming, and Taylor felt like she should be having some kind of existential crisis right this moment if not for the friendly and cozy atmosphere of the place.
"Got it. Anything you want, New Taylor? Our menu is quite diverse so long as you're not craving something made from exotic ingredients." Bar Taylor wrote down the order on a little notebook and neatly tore out the page.
"I don't have any money with me right now."
"You don't have to worry. Everything here is free." Bar Taylor chuckled. "It would be weird to charge different universe versions of myself."
"Bar Taylor just run things for fun. There are a few Taylor who are loaded and quite willing to fund this place pretty much indefinitely." PRT Princess Taylor added. "If it bothers you, just remember to bring some grocery to restock the fridge next time. It saves the time travelling between universes for shopping trips."
"Oh." She realized. "Was that what the grocery bag from before was?"
"Yup. Or you can bring anything you cook yourself and share with everyone. We make it a weekly thing here, usually every Friday night. Anyway, your order?"
"I recommend cheese burger. You can never go wrong with cheese burger." PRT Princess Taylor quipped in.
"I guess. I'll have that then."
"Okay, two cheese burgers, one double coming up." Bar Taylor spoke aloud, and she could hear another voice in the kitchen repeating the order. "Oh, and new Taylor? About your second question." The women lifted the metal panel behind the bar, which turned out to be a window of sort that looked directly into the kitchen. Where she could see half a dozen 'Taylors' in chef apparel busily working various cooking stations.
"We have A LOT of Taylors here."
---***---
Taylor Hebert stared at what she assumed was her afterlife.
The white void was more or less expected. There didn't appear to be any source of illumination, yet she could see everything (or rather the lack of anything) clearly, even able to distinguish the ground beneath her, which looked like smooth marble. That her clothes was completely clean of the filth from the locker was a surprise, but a welcomed one. She couldn't imagine being stuck in some kind of limbo smelling like blood and used tampon with no way to wash them off.
What's unusual was the quaint two-storied building in front of her with a simple designed sign board that read 'Little Owl Bar & Grills'. It looked nothing like the Fugly Bob's, but the architecture and exterior design just exuded this air that made you know it was a family restaurant, from the large blinded windows decorated with small flower pots to the couple of wooden benches on both side of the double doors.
The sheer contrast between the normalcy of the building and the seemingly unending void surrounding it only served to make the whole deal more unnerving.
Her eyes were drawn toward the small black board with neat handwritings in multi-colored chalk.
'WELCOME TO LITTLE OWL BAR
Please take note of the following rules before entering:
- If your power involves controlling or summoning creatures or substances that may infest or contaminate the establishment, please keep a tight control of them.
- Basic courtesy is expected and enforced. No intentional intimidation, bully, harassment, provocation, etc allowed.
- You may bring guests of your own, but be understanding if others may react negatively to their presence.
- Refer to the bar owner for a self-updating copy of the rulebook on things no longer allowed inside the bar.'
The content was unusual, but at least a little reassuring. Gathering her courage, Taylor twisted the doornob and peered inside. A soft chime came from the bell above the doorframe, and she took a careful look around the interior.
It looked to be an ordinary diner slash bar. There were about a dozen four-seat tables, some with sofas or beanbag chairs for seats. At the back, she could see some kind of small stage with curtain and a couple of ceiling spotlights. To the left was a bar counter with an assortment of bottles, cans, cups, and dispensers. It was quite, cozy, with the only movement being from the woman arranging something in the overhead bar cabinets.
"Oh, you must be new here, Taylor." The woman turned around, and Taylor was struck with how ... familiar she looked. "Come on in, take a seat."
The slightly messy mane of long, curly black hair. The pair of large brown eyes framed behind black-rimmed glasses. The pair of thin lips that were just a little bit too wide for her liking. The features that she would see in the mirror every morning, individually similar yet so distinctly different on that mature face that it was like looking at a funhouse version of herself.
"The first time can be confusing, I know. I can answer any question you have." The woman held up an empty glass with a couple of ice cubes. "You want something to drink? We have water, juice, and soda. And beer if you feel like it."
"Just...just water please." Taylor warily took the offered glass. A tentitive sip proved that it was just that, plain water, if a bit more refreshing that what usually came from the taps back home. Or maybe it was because we was just that thirsty from being stuck in the locker for so long. "Who are you? And how do you know my name?"
"Well that's an easy answer." The woman chuckled, and Taylor had to force down the sudden stab of pain at the familiar sound. "It's because I am also Taylor. It's one of those things that stay weirdly consistent across the multiverse, actually. Kind of funny when you actually think about it."
Her mind zeroed in on that word. "Multiverse? As in alternate Earths? So you're a different version of me." It kinda made sense seeing as she appeared like a Taylor who was a bit older. Early 20s, if she had to guess.
"Yes and no. It's complicated. While there are some features that the majority of us Taylors share like our first name, they are only enough to highlight the differences. Each of us may have wildly different background, personality traits, species, or even physics system from one another. Some of our regulars aren't even from us, or human for that matter. "
The bell above the door chimed. They both turned to look at the person entering, and Taylor (this was going to get confusing quickly) had to resist the urge to rub her eyes. Another person who looked just like her, except not. Uniform that looked too fancy to be Winslow, yet was distinctly not Acadia. Rounded corners on her glasses instead of square. Hair that was tied back in a low ponytail.
"Hi Bar Taylor! Slow day today, huh?" She looked around the place, before zeroing in Taylor. "Oh, we have a new face today?" The girl sounded happy, if a bit tired, to meet the older her. With a bit of effort, she managed to fit throught the door what Taylor realized was a giant grocery bag filled with veggies. This new Taylor walked toward them and, with a grunt, set the bag on the counter. "Here you go, some greens and spices you asked for last time."
Bar Taylor (an apt nickname, if a bit uncreative if she were to be honest) peered inside the bag and took out the receit. Her eyes gained this strange glint as she smiled widely, and she hugged the bag like it was teddy bear. "Excuse me a bit, Taylor. I got to throw these in the kitchen real quick." And there she went, disappearing behind the curtained door at the back.
"So, hi. Nice to meet you. I'm Taylor Costa-Brown."
"Taylor Hebert." She hesitated, but decided to ask anyway. "Did you say Costa-Brown as in..."
"Yes, my mom is Rebecca Costa-Brown, Chief Director of the PRT in my world." She said with a sigh. "That's why those of us here just call me PRT Princess Taylor."
"Sorry." She appologized sheepishly. Must be a touchy subject.
"It's okay. I'm kind of used to it at this point."
"That does remind me though." Bar Taylor walked out with a glass of what looked like grape soda and set it in front of PRT Princess Taylor, who took it gratefully. "Do try to think of a nickname for yourself. That's what we use to avoid confusion here. Better do it fast before your are saddled with something unflattering. I try to keep them from being too mean about it, but it has become something of a hazing ritual at this point."
"Yeah, they almost called me CBTaylor." PRT Princess Taylor sipped on her drink glumly.
"They aren't often vicious about it, and won't push things too far if you take offense to the name." Bar Taylor amended with a wince. "But teenagers gotta teenager."
"Just try to avoid Wolf Priestess Taylor, Kitsune Taylor, Catgirl Taylor,... Actually, avoid all Taylors with some kind of animal feature and look too mischievous for their own good. They tend to play pranks on people, especially new Taylors." PRT Princess Taylor set down her half-empty glass of soda. "Can I get a double cheese burger?"
"Just...just how many Taylors are there?" It's starting to get overwhelming, and Taylor felt like she should be having some kind of existential crisis right this moment if not for the friendly and cozy atmosphere of the place.
"Got it. Anything you want, New Taylor? Our menu is quite diverse so long as you're not craving something made from exotic ingredients." Bar Taylor wrote down the order on a little notebook and neatly tore out the page.
"I don't have any money with me right now."
"You don't have to worry. Everything here is free." Bar Taylor chuckled. "It would be weird to charge different universe versions of myself."
"Bar Taylor just run things for fun. There are a few Taylor who are loaded and quite willing to fund this place pretty much indefinitely." PRT Princess Taylor added. "If it bothers you, just remember to bring some grocery to restock the fridge next time. It saves the time travelling between universes for shopping trips."
"Oh." She realized. "Was that what the grocery bag from before was?"
"Yup. Or you can bring anything you cook yourself and share with everyone. We make it a weekly thing here, usually every Friday night. Anyway, your order?"
"I recommend cheese burger. You can never go wrong with cheese burger." PRT Princess Taylor quipped in.
"I guess. I'll have that then."
"Okay, two cheese burgers, one double coming up." Bar Taylor spoke aloud, and she could hear another voice in the kitchen repeating the order. "Oh, and new Taylor? About your second question." The women lifted the metal panel behind the bar, which turned out to be a window of sort that looked directly into the kitchen. Where she could see half a dozen 'Taylors' in chef apparel busily working various cooking stations.
"We have A LOT of Taylors here."
Chapter 2: Therapy? In my Worm fanfic?
AN: I aimed for a fluffy, feel-good chapter, but my usual depressing writing managed to sneak right in, and the result is some kind of mishmash that flipflops between the two. Hope you guys don't mind.
The burger was really good.
It wasn't some kind of gastronomic delights like you would imagine being served at an obviously parahuman-run restaurant. You don't order a cheese burger at Fugly Bob's expecting high-end cuisine, but because you suddenly crave that combination of savory, salty, and mild flavors delivered in a dish so simple that not even the most novice of cooks can screw up. At the same time, there's not much you could do to improve it even if you try, at least not to a degree that the average person can appreciate. It was junk food, and no amount of high quality cheese, meat patties cooked to perfection, or fresh and expertly prepared toppings could change that.
Taylor looked at PRT Princess Taylor, who was finishing her double cheese with delight, then at her own half-finished one.
"Is the food not to your liking?" Bar Taylor asked gently.
"No. It's good, really good actually. It's just..." she hesitated, "All of this...it still feels so surreal that I'm having a hard time putting my thoughts together. What exactly is this place? Why is it surrounded by this white void thing? Why and how did I get here?"
"That quite an ambiguous question new Taylor, but I'll try to answer it as best as I can" Bar Taylor hummed as refilled her cup with a water jug. "This restaurant is something I have built so that we Taylors can have a safe place where we can just…get away from it all. You see that plaque over there?"
Taylor watched where the woman pointed at above one of the glass windows. There was indeed a large plaque with ornate wooden frames and a short sentence in cursives on something that looked like parchment.
It read 'Being Taylor is suffering'.
"That was something Prankster Taylor put up some time ago as a joke, but we pretty much unanimously decided to keep it up in the end. As much as it was a somewhat mean jab at several Taylors at the time, it was also both a self-deprecating joke and a statement of truth. One that all of us can commiserate over at some point, because it is almost unavoidable that each of us have or will go through some great struggles in our life."
It fell like something at the back of her mind just froze over.
"I pretty much have PRT troopers and several capes in reserve as bodyguards 24/7 because the daughter of the Chief Director of the PRT is too enticing a bargaining chip or assassination target to pass up on." Her same-aged counterpart said in a somber voice. "Many people, good people who were just following order, have taken attacks meant for me, have died protecting me, and I couldn't do a single thing to help."
Bar Taylor laid a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder.
"So…what you're saying…" Taylor could feel anger bubbling up inside her mind like shimmering water waiting to boil, "is that everything I've gone through…being betrayed by my best friend…being either bullied or ignored by everyone for years…being shove into that DISGUSTING LOCKER, is because I am destined to be some kind of COSMIC PUNCHING BAG?!"
"It's a sad reality, yes, but only if you want to think of it that way." Bar Taylor said patiently.
"What the FUCK is that supposed to mean?"
"You said you were betrayed by your best friend, right? Does her name happen to be Emma Barnes?"
"Yeah, and what of it?"
"It puts things into perspective, Taylor, because for us, Emma had been many things. Yes, sometimes a traitor, a vicious bully, someone seemingly handcrafted by fate to be the root cause of all our sufferings. But also, sometimes a steadfast ally, a treasured friend, the love of our life," the woman's voice hesitated, and Taylor could hear the tiniest crack in her voice as she continued. "Someone who was cruelly taken away from us too soon. And sometimes the only thing that separates those outcomes was the smallest, the most seemingly insignificant choices."
The woman turned to Taylor, and once again she was painfully reminded of her mother when their family was going through rough times. "The point is that things could be worse, but they could also be better. If we could go through life with just a bit more insights, and the knowledge that all else fails, you can always find here those who can understand and empathize with your pains. Those who can have your back, spiritually if not physically."
Taylor wanted to scream at the woman. She wanted to call her out for being just another empty talker. She wanted to rage at the idea that she could ever come to love that, that BITCH ever again. But she knew that it was true. Much as it pained her to admit it, much as she utterly hated who Emma had become, the description Bar Taylor gave was how the two of them used to be. How they could be. How a tiny, traitorous part of her dearly wished they could return to, like everything had just been a scary nightmare.
The explosive anger died down, leaving only debris of numbness. She was just too exhausted to think anymore. She didn't want to think anymore, and grateful that Bar Taylor decided to switch the topic.
"As for the 'white void thing', I'm not sure I can give you a satisfying answer because I don't fully understand it myself. Far as I can tell, it's a dimension outside of time and space and beyond even the multiple universes and reality itself. A gigantic space of practically endless nothingness where you can spend days in and get back to your reality with not even a nanosecond having passed. Some of the more scientifically inclined Taylors held debates over the nature of this space, but most of it went over my head." Bar Taylor chuckled.
"All I know is that I was the first of us to access this place, or at least the first one who decided to stick around long enough to make something of it. It started out a pocket dimension where I can relax or cheat out some time inbetween study and work, but then I discovered that other version of me sometimes popped into this place, mostly by accident and almost always in some state of distress. So I brought over something to help them calm down. A blanket, some snacks, a hot mug of chocolate, maybe just a hug and some time spent listening to their story. It was like a multiversal picnic spot."
"In the beginning I only got to spend a short amount of time with each Taylor before sending them back with my power, but one day Arc Inventor Taylor came back, having succeeded in making some kind of cross-dimensional locator slash transporter that allowed everyone to return freely. That being said," Bar Taylor crouched down to retrieve something from under the counter. "Here's yours, new Taylor. One translocator, neatly compacted and perfectly disguised as an innocuous wrist watch."
Taylor gingerly took the offered device and put it on her wrist.
"It can also take the form of any accessory you feel is more appropriate, or even hide itself as a layer on your skin using some kind of nanobot or magictech nonsense." PRT Princess Taylor chimed in. "Mine just merges with my phone and show up as an app on-screen. It also always return to you whenever and wherever you want, because Tinkers are just bullshit like that."
"With a reliable way to go back and forth, several other Taylors contributed material and construction skills to help build this little restaurant. One thing led to another, with several renovations and expansions along the way, and here we are."
"What about those Taylors in the kitchen? Do they just work here all the time?"
"Ah, most of them just stay over for some time and help out in the kitchen because they like cooking." Bar Taylor smiled sadly. "Some of them live here permanently though, either because they feel like there is nothing left for them, their world was destroyed, or they...died. Sometimes a combination of the three. Thankfully we have a few Taylors who are either full-time psychiatrists or can call in some favor for one. Professional mental help does wonder around here."
Taylor made a vague sound of agreement. It all sounded a little too fantastical, like a dream her delirious mind made up while stuck inside the locker. Even if it was a dream though, she hoped she would never wake up from it. And some weird way, it was nice to know that if nothing else, she had a place where she could vent her grievances and not be mocked or had them used as more ammunition by her tormentors. Taylor just wished she had found it sooner, and she confessed as much.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Strangely, or perhaps not, the compassion from the older her did not feel as grating and Gladly's pitying gaze or Blackwell's condescending glare. "I'm not a professional like them or anything, but I can lend an ear whenever you want."
Taylor nodded.
Somewhere along the way, she found heself ending up on one of the massive beanbag chair, huddled together with both alternate versions of herself in some kind of bizarre group hug. She didn't particularly mind, though.
She didn't know it felt this good to have a good, long cry after such a long time.
---***---
The burger was really good.
It wasn't some kind of gastronomic delights like you would imagine being served at an obviously parahuman-run restaurant. You don't order a cheese burger at Fugly Bob's expecting high-end cuisine, but because you suddenly crave that combination of savory, salty, and mild flavors delivered in a dish so simple that not even the most novice of cooks can screw up. At the same time, there's not much you could do to improve it even if you try, at least not to a degree that the average person can appreciate. It was junk food, and no amount of high quality cheese, meat patties cooked to perfection, or fresh and expertly prepared toppings could change that.
Taylor looked at PRT Princess Taylor, who was finishing her double cheese with delight, then at her own half-finished one.
"Is the food not to your liking?" Bar Taylor asked gently.
"No. It's good, really good actually. It's just..." she hesitated, "All of this...it still feels so surreal that I'm having a hard time putting my thoughts together. What exactly is this place? Why is it surrounded by this white void thing? Why and how did I get here?"
"That quite an ambiguous question new Taylor, but I'll try to answer it as best as I can" Bar Taylor hummed as refilled her cup with a water jug. "This restaurant is something I have built so that we Taylors can have a safe place where we can just…get away from it all. You see that plaque over there?"
Taylor watched where the woman pointed at above one of the glass windows. There was indeed a large plaque with ornate wooden frames and a short sentence in cursives on something that looked like parchment.
It read 'Being Taylor is suffering'.
"That was something Prankster Taylor put up some time ago as a joke, but we pretty much unanimously decided to keep it up in the end. As much as it was a somewhat mean jab at several Taylors at the time, it was also both a self-deprecating joke and a statement of truth. One that all of us can commiserate over at some point, because it is almost unavoidable that each of us have or will go through some great struggles in our life."
It fell like something at the back of her mind just froze over.
"I pretty much have PRT troopers and several capes in reserve as bodyguards 24/7 because the daughter of the Chief Director of the PRT is too enticing a bargaining chip or assassination target to pass up on." Her same-aged counterpart said in a somber voice. "Many people, good people who were just following order, have taken attacks meant for me, have died protecting me, and I couldn't do a single thing to help."
Bar Taylor laid a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder.
"So…what you're saying…" Taylor could feel anger bubbling up inside her mind like shimmering water waiting to boil, "is that everything I've gone through…being betrayed by my best friend…being either bullied or ignored by everyone for years…being shove into that DISGUSTING LOCKER, is because I am destined to be some kind of COSMIC PUNCHING BAG?!"
"It's a sad reality, yes, but only if you want to think of it that way." Bar Taylor said patiently.
"What the FUCK is that supposed to mean?"
"You said you were betrayed by your best friend, right? Does her name happen to be Emma Barnes?"
"Yeah, and what of it?"
"It puts things into perspective, Taylor, because for us, Emma had been many things. Yes, sometimes a traitor, a vicious bully, someone seemingly handcrafted by fate to be the root cause of all our sufferings. But also, sometimes a steadfast ally, a treasured friend, the love of our life," the woman's voice hesitated, and Taylor could hear the tiniest crack in her voice as she continued. "Someone who was cruelly taken away from us too soon. And sometimes the only thing that separates those outcomes was the smallest, the most seemingly insignificant choices."
The woman turned to Taylor, and once again she was painfully reminded of her mother when their family was going through rough times. "The point is that things could be worse, but they could also be better. If we could go through life with just a bit more insights, and the knowledge that all else fails, you can always find here those who can understand and empathize with your pains. Those who can have your back, spiritually if not physically."
Taylor wanted to scream at the woman. She wanted to call her out for being just another empty talker. She wanted to rage at the idea that she could ever come to love that, that BITCH ever again. But she knew that it was true. Much as it pained her to admit it, much as she utterly hated who Emma had become, the description Bar Taylor gave was how the two of them used to be. How they could be. How a tiny, traitorous part of her dearly wished they could return to, like everything had just been a scary nightmare.
The explosive anger died down, leaving only debris of numbness. She was just too exhausted to think anymore. She didn't want to think anymore, and grateful that Bar Taylor decided to switch the topic.
"As for the 'white void thing', I'm not sure I can give you a satisfying answer because I don't fully understand it myself. Far as I can tell, it's a dimension outside of time and space and beyond even the multiple universes and reality itself. A gigantic space of practically endless nothingness where you can spend days in and get back to your reality with not even a nanosecond having passed. Some of the more scientifically inclined Taylors held debates over the nature of this space, but most of it went over my head." Bar Taylor chuckled.
"All I know is that I was the first of us to access this place, or at least the first one who decided to stick around long enough to make something of it. It started out a pocket dimension where I can relax or cheat out some time inbetween study and work, but then I discovered that other version of me sometimes popped into this place, mostly by accident and almost always in some state of distress. So I brought over something to help them calm down. A blanket, some snacks, a hot mug of chocolate, maybe just a hug and some time spent listening to their story. It was like a multiversal picnic spot."
"In the beginning I only got to spend a short amount of time with each Taylor before sending them back with my power, but one day Arc Inventor Taylor came back, having succeeded in making some kind of cross-dimensional locator slash transporter that allowed everyone to return freely. That being said," Bar Taylor crouched down to retrieve something from under the counter. "Here's yours, new Taylor. One translocator, neatly compacted and perfectly disguised as an innocuous wrist watch."
Taylor gingerly took the offered device and put it on her wrist.
"It can also take the form of any accessory you feel is more appropriate, or even hide itself as a layer on your skin using some kind of nanobot or magictech nonsense." PRT Princess Taylor chimed in. "Mine just merges with my phone and show up as an app on-screen. It also always return to you whenever and wherever you want, because Tinkers are just bullshit like that."
"With a reliable way to go back and forth, several other Taylors contributed material and construction skills to help build this little restaurant. One thing led to another, with several renovations and expansions along the way, and here we are."
"What about those Taylors in the kitchen? Do they just work here all the time?"
"Ah, most of them just stay over for some time and help out in the kitchen because they like cooking." Bar Taylor smiled sadly. "Some of them live here permanently though, either because they feel like there is nothing left for them, their world was destroyed, or they...died. Sometimes a combination of the three. Thankfully we have a few Taylors who are either full-time psychiatrists or can call in some favor for one. Professional mental help does wonder around here."
Taylor made a vague sound of agreement. It all sounded a little too fantastical, like a dream her delirious mind made up while stuck inside the locker. Even if it was a dream though, she hoped she would never wake up from it. And some weird way, it was nice to know that if nothing else, she had a place where she could vent her grievances and not be mocked or had them used as more ammunition by her tormentors. Taylor just wished she had found it sooner, and she confessed as much.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Strangely, or perhaps not, the compassion from the older her did not feel as grating and Gladly's pitying gaze or Blackwell's condescending glare. "I'm not a professional like them or anything, but I can lend an ear whenever you want."
Taylor nodded.
Somewhere along the way, she found heself ending up on one of the massive beanbag chair, huddled together with both alternate versions of herself in some kind of bizarre group hug. She didn't particularly mind, though.
She didn't know it felt this good to have a good, long cry after such a long time.
Chapter 3: The two most OP powers - fluffy tails and talking things out
It took an embarrassingly long time, but eventually, Taylor managed to come down from the cathartic experience. Mellow and blessedly numb, if a bit exhausted from all the crying, she settled for cuddling against PRT Princess Taylor on the spacious beanbag chair as they shared the bowl of melon seeds while watching the bar. Bar Taylor had gently extracted herself from the pile and returned to behind the counter when other Taylors started trickling in, and she was glad for the commentary PRT Princess provided.
"That's Miko Taylor. Hi Miko!" PRT Princess waved enthusiastically as she called to the latest arrival – a Taylor who looked relatively normal save for her red and white attire. Miko smiled and nodded in their direction in greeting, and Taylor gave a small wave in return. "She sometimes comes by to pick up alcohol for her wolf friend."
"She buys alcohol...for her wolf?" It probably should speak volumes of how strange and bizarre the lives of her alternate selves had been thus far when the piece of information was only mildly surprising.
"Apparently when Miko was a kid, she met and became best friends with a wolf. A large white wolf with very potent powers, a penchant for trolling its way through enemies and problems, and an absurd degree of perversion and alcoholism."
"Alcoholism," Taylor repeated, deadpan. She wasn't even going to touch on perversion. "And what's a Miko? Is she the Wolf Priestess Taylor you mentioned?"
"Nah, they're two different Taylors. Miko is a Japanese religious position, kinda like a priestess. Miko Taylor manages an old shrine in an Asian part of her Brockton Bay and is a well-liked and respected figure among locals. She and her wolf, which they apparently see as some kind of divine messenger." PRT Princess sighed wistfully. "Wish I could meet and pet her wolf friend Sunny though. She sounds cute. And fluffy. A cute and fluffy wolf. I wanna pet one."
"I'm right here." Came a quip as another Taylor, one with a pair of animal ears the same color as her black hair, poked her head over their bean bag chair with a grin. Taylor didn't even see her enter through the door.
"No. Not you." PRT Princess deadpanned, reaching her fingers out to poke the new Taylor in the forehead and push her away. She then continued as if nothing had happened, ignoring the wolf girl's piteous 'why? why not me?'."Can you imagine petting a giant fluffy wolf? Or having a giant fluffy pet wolf?"
"I can be that for you!" The girl perked up at that, grinning. With a poof of white smoke, a giant fluffy tail emerged from Taylor's end of the beanbag chair and fell onto both of their laps. Before she could make sense of the strange appendage, Taylor found her fingers sinking into the mass of black fur, feeling numerous strands of softness rubbing her skin.
Fluffy~
"Oh god, not you too." PRT Princess Taylor sighed.
With a flash of realization, Taylor jerked her hand back as if electrocuted. "Oh, sorry. Was that rude?" She looked at the new Taylor sheepishly. Only to realize she had her eyes closed and was making a low rumbling sound suspiciously similar to a cat's purring.
"New Taylor, meet Foxgirl Taylor. She's from one of the Earth Bet adjacent realities and has a Changer power that gives her fox features and enhanced physical abilities." 'and enhanced cuteness' Foxgirl Taylor quipped. "She also has a weak Master rating and likes to trick people into petting her tail. And she's definitely NOT a wolf." PRT Princess gave Foxgirl a glare, which she easily brushed off.
"It's fluffy," Taylor said, resuming her new favorite activity. Foxgirl smirked at PRT Princess in a way that screamed 'See?'.
"It's not the same."
"Just close your eyes~ and you won't know the difference~"
"There's a difference?"
PRT Princess' eyebrows scrunched up in annoyance. "Look, I just...I can...it's different. It's not the same, okay?"
"How do you know? Have you touched one before?" Foxgirl teased, bringing her tail to brush under PRT Princess' chin.
The bickering and teasing continued for a while before Taylor decided to ask. "Do you want her to touch you that much?"
Both girls' heads almost audibly snapped toward Taylor, bright red, scandalized expressions on their faces. Then Taylor's brain caught up to what she had just uttered, and her face went bright red too.
"Why did you say it like that? You made it weiiiiird~" Foxgirl whined.
They looked at each other awkwardly, then bursted out laughing.
Having friends again felt nice.
Eventually, though, things wound down in the bar, and Taylor found her mind unable to avoid wandering back to dark places.
"Hey PRT Princess, how rare is it for one of us to stay here? Permanently, I mean."
The girl went quiet in thought, then replied. "I would say not very often. Even Bar Taylor closes the bar and returns to her world at the end of the day. I only know of Arc Inventor Taylor who lives in her tinker lab close by after her world vanished, and Pub Taylor who runs her own dining business a little away from here."
"Oh," Taylor replied lamely.
"I know what you're thinking, New Taylor, but I also think you're not thinking it through."
"I don't know what you're talking about." She denied ostensibly.
"Look, I know it's very tempting to just leave your world behind with all of its pains and troubles, but in giving up, you're also leaving behind everyone and everything you have."
"It's easy to slip into those bad thoughts in your worse moments, like 'I have nothing left to live for', or 'no one cares about me', or 'everyone would be happier if I'm gone'." Foxgirl agreed, for once without a hint of playfulness in her voice. "But that's rarely the case, you know? It's just very difficult to see past all the negatives, and on the spur of the moment you end up making choices that you will end up regretting for the rest of your lives."
"What do YOU know about it?" Taylor scoffed, but then immediately regretted it as the girl's face darkened. Not in anger, but sadness, as if reliving a painful memory. "I'm sorry. I just..."
"It's okay. We all have reasons to be mad at our lives." Foxgirl waved it off, and let out a long breath. "I ran away from home, you know? My mom died in a car accident, and my dad became an alcoholic and a gambling addict. Always crawling home in the dead of night, down to the last penny and reek of alcohol. Money was tight, so I had to drop out of school, fake my age, and work odd jobs to pay off our debts and live by."
"I think a few of my employers knew, and they took pity on me. Gave me small bonuses here and there. Sometimes I pack leftovers for me to bring home. Gave me rides when the weather got bad. For a time I felt hopeful, thinking of finally being able to rid ourselves of the debts while working toward getting a GED. I had the money in the envelope. I was going to give it to the debt collector that evening. But when I got home..."
"When I got home from work, the money was gone. My dad stole it and went off to his betting rings. When he came back, they had already trashed our house. We shouted at each other. I didn't think I had ever felt such hatred for anyone else in my life. Said to him as much. I ran away, triggered, passed out on the street, and was picked up by a small cape gang. We ran together for a while, doing odd commissions and some occasional robberies. Life was good, until one of the clients set us up to bite off more than we could chew. The gang all died save for me, and the local PRT inducted me into the Ward. That was when I learned that dad died that same night, wandering the street in the middle of the night looking for me and got run over by a sleepy truck driver."
"My first thought was: 'good riddance'." Foxgirl chuckled wetly. "But with time you learn that it's pretty damn hard to hate someone your whole life. He was a scumbag, but he wasn't always that way, and maybe a tiny part of him still cared about me that night. He was still my dad, and our last words together were about how much I despise him and wish he was dead."
"Take it from me, okay? Between you and your dad, things may feel bad. Hopeless. Unsalvagable. But you never know it for sure until you try. It seems unfair, but when adults need a good kick in the ass to get out of their dark place, sometimes it falls to the kid to pick up the slack. Talk to him. Try to get the conversation going. Be a daughter, and maybe he will act like a dad again."
They shared a tearful hug till Bar Taylor closed the restaurant.
Taylor creaked open her eyes to look at the form of her father by the hospital bed, one hand on his knee and the other covering his face. His shoulder shook slightly with barely contained emotion. The most emotive she had seen him in a long time.
She was tempted to go back to sleep, to pretend that she never saw the clearest sign that her beloved father was still there, hidden beneath the unkempt hair and ragged visage of a man who could barely take care of himself. To keep lying to herself that she was all alone in this world, with everything and everyone against her.
"Hey dad, can we talk about something?"
The way his face lit up at her words sparked a small warmth inside her heart.
"That's Miko Taylor. Hi Miko!" PRT Princess waved enthusiastically as she called to the latest arrival – a Taylor who looked relatively normal save for her red and white attire. Miko smiled and nodded in their direction in greeting, and Taylor gave a small wave in return. "She sometimes comes by to pick up alcohol for her wolf friend."
"She buys alcohol...for her wolf?" It probably should speak volumes of how strange and bizarre the lives of her alternate selves had been thus far when the piece of information was only mildly surprising.
"Apparently when Miko was a kid, she met and became best friends with a wolf. A large white wolf with very potent powers, a penchant for trolling its way through enemies and problems, and an absurd degree of perversion and alcoholism."
"Alcoholism," Taylor repeated, deadpan. She wasn't even going to touch on perversion. "And what's a Miko? Is she the Wolf Priestess Taylor you mentioned?"
"Nah, they're two different Taylors. Miko is a Japanese religious position, kinda like a priestess. Miko Taylor manages an old shrine in an Asian part of her Brockton Bay and is a well-liked and respected figure among locals. She and her wolf, which they apparently see as some kind of divine messenger." PRT Princess sighed wistfully. "Wish I could meet and pet her wolf friend Sunny though. She sounds cute. And fluffy. A cute and fluffy wolf. I wanna pet one."
"I'm right here." Came a quip as another Taylor, one with a pair of animal ears the same color as her black hair, poked her head over their bean bag chair with a grin. Taylor didn't even see her enter through the door.
"No. Not you." PRT Princess deadpanned, reaching her fingers out to poke the new Taylor in the forehead and push her away. She then continued as if nothing had happened, ignoring the wolf girl's piteous 'why? why not me?'."Can you imagine petting a giant fluffy wolf? Or having a giant fluffy pet wolf?"
"I can be that for you!" The girl perked up at that, grinning. With a poof of white smoke, a giant fluffy tail emerged from Taylor's end of the beanbag chair and fell onto both of their laps. Before she could make sense of the strange appendage, Taylor found her fingers sinking into the mass of black fur, feeling numerous strands of softness rubbing her skin.
Fluffy~
"Oh god, not you too." PRT Princess Taylor sighed.
With a flash of realization, Taylor jerked her hand back as if electrocuted. "Oh, sorry. Was that rude?" She looked at the new Taylor sheepishly. Only to realize she had her eyes closed and was making a low rumbling sound suspiciously similar to a cat's purring.
"New Taylor, meet Foxgirl Taylor. She's from one of the Earth Bet adjacent realities and has a Changer power that gives her fox features and enhanced physical abilities." 'and enhanced cuteness' Foxgirl Taylor quipped. "She also has a weak Master rating and likes to trick people into petting her tail. And she's definitely NOT a wolf." PRT Princess gave Foxgirl a glare, which she easily brushed off.
"It's fluffy," Taylor said, resuming her new favorite activity. Foxgirl smirked at PRT Princess in a way that screamed 'See?'.
"It's not the same."
"Just close your eyes~ and you won't know the difference~"
"There's a difference?"
PRT Princess' eyebrows scrunched up in annoyance. "Look, I just...I can...it's different. It's not the same, okay?"
"How do you know? Have you touched one before?" Foxgirl teased, bringing her tail to brush under PRT Princess' chin.
The bickering and teasing continued for a while before Taylor decided to ask. "Do you want her to touch you that much?"
Both girls' heads almost audibly snapped toward Taylor, bright red, scandalized expressions on their faces. Then Taylor's brain caught up to what she had just uttered, and her face went bright red too.
"Why did you say it like that? You made it weiiiiird~" Foxgirl whined.
They looked at each other awkwardly, then bursted out laughing.
Having friends again felt nice.
Eventually, though, things wound down in the bar, and Taylor found her mind unable to avoid wandering back to dark places.
"Hey PRT Princess, how rare is it for one of us to stay here? Permanently, I mean."
The girl went quiet in thought, then replied. "I would say not very often. Even Bar Taylor closes the bar and returns to her world at the end of the day. I only know of Arc Inventor Taylor who lives in her tinker lab close by after her world vanished, and Pub Taylor who runs her own dining business a little away from here."
"Oh," Taylor replied lamely.
"I know what you're thinking, New Taylor, but I also think you're not thinking it through."
"I don't know what you're talking about." She denied ostensibly.
"Look, I know it's very tempting to just leave your world behind with all of its pains and troubles, but in giving up, you're also leaving behind everyone and everything you have."
"It's easy to slip into those bad thoughts in your worse moments, like 'I have nothing left to live for', or 'no one cares about me', or 'everyone would be happier if I'm gone'." Foxgirl agreed, for once without a hint of playfulness in her voice. "But that's rarely the case, you know? It's just very difficult to see past all the negatives, and on the spur of the moment you end up making choices that you will end up regretting for the rest of your lives."
"What do YOU know about it?" Taylor scoffed, but then immediately regretted it as the girl's face darkened. Not in anger, but sadness, as if reliving a painful memory. "I'm sorry. I just..."
"It's okay. We all have reasons to be mad at our lives." Foxgirl waved it off, and let out a long breath. "I ran away from home, you know? My mom died in a car accident, and my dad became an alcoholic and a gambling addict. Always crawling home in the dead of night, down to the last penny and reek of alcohol. Money was tight, so I had to drop out of school, fake my age, and work odd jobs to pay off our debts and live by."
"I think a few of my employers knew, and they took pity on me. Gave me small bonuses here and there. Sometimes I pack leftovers for me to bring home. Gave me rides when the weather got bad. For a time I felt hopeful, thinking of finally being able to rid ourselves of the debts while working toward getting a GED. I had the money in the envelope. I was going to give it to the debt collector that evening. But when I got home..."
"When I got home from work, the money was gone. My dad stole it and went off to his betting rings. When he came back, they had already trashed our house. We shouted at each other. I didn't think I had ever felt such hatred for anyone else in my life. Said to him as much. I ran away, triggered, passed out on the street, and was picked up by a small cape gang. We ran together for a while, doing odd commissions and some occasional robberies. Life was good, until one of the clients set us up to bite off more than we could chew. The gang all died save for me, and the local PRT inducted me into the Ward. That was when I learned that dad died that same night, wandering the street in the middle of the night looking for me and got run over by a sleepy truck driver."
"My first thought was: 'good riddance'." Foxgirl chuckled wetly. "But with time you learn that it's pretty damn hard to hate someone your whole life. He was a scumbag, but he wasn't always that way, and maybe a tiny part of him still cared about me that night. He was still my dad, and our last words together were about how much I despise him and wish he was dead."
"Take it from me, okay? Between you and your dad, things may feel bad. Hopeless. Unsalvagable. But you never know it for sure until you try. It seems unfair, but when adults need a good kick in the ass to get out of their dark place, sometimes it falls to the kid to pick up the slack. Talk to him. Try to get the conversation going. Be a daughter, and maybe he will act like a dad again."
They shared a tearful hug till Bar Taylor closed the restaurant.
---***---
Taylor creaked open her eyes to look at the form of her father by the hospital bed, one hand on his knee and the other covering his face. His shoulder shook slightly with barely contained emotion. The most emotive she had seen him in a long time.
She was tempted to go back to sleep, to pretend that she never saw the clearest sign that her beloved father was still there, hidden beneath the unkempt hair and ragged visage of a man who could barely take care of himself. To keep lying to herself that she was all alone in this world, with everything and everyone against her.
"Hey dad, can we talk about something?"
The way his face lit up at her words sparked a small warmth inside her heart.
Chapter 4: Names have power (to piss people off)
With a faint popping sound, Taylor found herself standing before Little Owl Bar & Grill, a tupperware container under her arm holding a freshly made meatloaf.
It had been surprisingly easy to rope dad into helping her in the kitchen once she managed to stubborn her way through his initial reluctance. Sure, it had taken a bit of waterworks and a few tricks of the books of several Taylors with...less compuction about emotional manipulation. But since dad did not seem to mind that much and even cracked a few smiles through the experience, she wasn't going to feel too guilt about it. Besides, like Bar taylor had said, when a kid had to guilt-trip their parents into family bonding time, it wasn't the child where you had to start looking for the problem.
Looking down at the result of three hours flailing around with their culinary inexperience and lack of practice, Taylor smiled to herself.
It might have been easier to go for something conventionals like cookies, but it seemed more appropriate at the time to revive mom's favorite recipe. And even though they were a long way from replicating the quality, at least what came out of the oven tasted pretty decent, if she did say so herself. Depending on how it would be received by other hers, Taylor might even consider making more as greeting gifts for her soon-to-be teammates at the Rigs.
For now though, Taylor was content with spending time with her new friends at Little Owl, away from all the exhaustive dramas of her own world. There was no fussy Youth Guard social workers who spent more time arguing with the PRT than listening to her needs, no legal advisors hounding her on details of the absolute shitshow that was her Winslow experience, and most importantly no imposing Director Piggot and Armsmaster who might as well have been iron walls when she tried to get her words in. It was her sole island of stability in the last few chaotic days, a place where she could sit back, relax, and – why was there a transparrent barrier forming around her?
*BOOOOOM*
There was a deafening explosion as almost the entire left wall of the first floor was blasted open. Debris and dust rained harmlessly against the glowing shield, but the kinetic force was enough to knock Taylor off her feet. Instantly alert, she tried to call up her power...and cursed at the realization that she wasn't carrying any of her insect swarms.
"Behold, dreg." A younger version of her stepped over the rubble, revealing herself to be a young version of Taylor in adorably baggy clothes and the smuggest expression she had ever seen. "for thou dost gaze upon the mighty visage of the one true Lord of the Ocean."
"Heh, whatever you say," The Taylor-shaped projectile that had made its spectacular exit through the wall stood up while making a show of dusting off her shoulders. "Fish brat."
"It seemeth it would take more than one beating to make the wretch realize her folly." The smug grin turned feral as the child Taylor's body turned into water and expanded. And expanded. And expanded.
'Is that a giant fucking mermaid?' Taylor thought in shock as she witnessed the fifty-something feet tall mythical creature floating in mid-air and wielding a suitably massive trident, the silver gleam of her scales and fins radiating both beauty and lethality.
"Throwing a tantrum isn't going to help you case, brat. But whatever," The other Taylor smirked, before making some strange signs with her hands. A massive purple skeletons torso bursted into existence before being rapidly covered in muscles and smoky armors. Its eyes shone balefully as its four arms drews out giant swords from their sheaths. "I'm craving some sushi anyway."
The two collosal creatures brandished their weapon, ready for the clash that would surely devastate anything in their path...before disappearing in one resounding 'pop'.
...
"What the fuck was that?"
"Hi New Taylor, over here!" Bar Taylor called out from the opened front door, motioning her to come in as if there weren't just two Endbringer-like parahumans wrecking the place. Mutedly, Taylor obliged, following the woman inside.
"Oh, you brought food as well?" Bar Taylor looked back, smiling.
"Yeah," Shaking her head trying to get rid of the whiplash, Taylor amended. "I mean yes. I and my dad made meatloaf with mom's recipe, and you said I should bring something to share with everyone. Hope it doesn't taste too bad."
She held out the plastic container, which Bar Taylor took gratefully and peared inside. "I'm sure everyone will enjoy it. I think we also have some mashed potato and salad." Closing the lid, she smiled. "I'll be in the kitchen for a minute. You can go join the others. PRT Princess is absent today, but there is Foxgirl over there."
"Right, thank you." Taylor turned away from the counter to look at the surprisingly intact dining area save for a few wrecked tables and chairs close to the newly made hole in the wall. The rest had either been stacked against the wall to save space or arranged around a big round table where about a dozen other Taylors were sitting. Most of them were new faces she had never seen before, though some she luckily did recognize. Exorcist Club Taylor was nonchalantly going through a bag of chips, content with watching the chaos unfold. Banished Saintess Taylor was in the process of dispelling her protective barrier miracle, her forehead drenched in sweats. Off the the side was the slightly older-looking Super Sentai Taylor trying her best to mediate the bunch bickering over a boardgame of some sort, and finally Foxgirl Taylor was waving enthusiastically at Taylor while patting the small space next to her on the beanbag chair. Taking the offered seat, Taylor obediently took the giant tail that landed on her lap and started combing her finger through the mass of fur.
Fluffy~
"What the hell was that?" Taylor looked to the newest renovation to the diner.
"Ah, that." Foxgirl cringed slightly. "We just had a new Taylor arriving, and she immediately started rambling about there being no two suns in the same sky and defeating the Demon Lord of the Land to prove herself the one supreme Lord of the world." She paused a bit in thought, putting a finger on her cheek. "The capitalization is important, I think? She put a lot of emphasis on the 'Lord' bit."
"Should we be concerned?" Taylor asked. "I mean their fight looked pretty serious."
"Nah, usually Bar Taylor just put them in a timeout spot a safe distance away and let them sort it out." An enraged cry came from the opposite end of the gathering as Taylor saw two identical-looking Taylors among the boardgaming group tried to stranggle each other. "Bar Taylor generally allow us to duke it out so long as things are resolved in the end. Some of us really need to vent off their frustration from their own worlds, you know?"
"Their 'venting' looks like it can level cities though."
"Eh, all the more reason to do it here where there's no risk of property damage. Besides, it's not like they can really kill each other so long as she doesn't allow it." Foxgirl shrugged. " That reminds me though, have you thought of a good nickname yet? Might be good to make it official when there's a lot of us here."
"Not really," Taylor hesitated. "We haven't even agreed on my Ward name yet, and I just found out today that even my dad though my naming sense was garbage." Her face flushed as she remembered the arkwardness and humiliation as both dad and Mr. Chambers silently turned their heads to look at her, then at each other before signing in some kind of silent communication.
"New meat, eh?"
She did not know whose voice it was, but most of the Taylors present turned to her, and she got the distinct impression of being stared down by a pack of hungry wolves. Foxgirl's whispered 'oh boy' did not help one bit.
"Hi?" Taylor managed to squeak out.
"Seein' as we got another New Taylor joinin' us today, what say ye we commence the Naming Ritual, arr?"
'Nay.' Taylor mentally refused.
"AYE!" The majority of the Taylors gathering said otherwise.
"Guys, don't bully the new girl." Super Sentai signed in exasperation.
"Nonsense! It be beneath us to resort to somethin' so barbaric, arr!" The pack leader, a Taylor who wouldn't look out of place in a pirate convention, waved off the concerned older girl. "So, New Taylor. Ye be needin' to give us some info to work with here. Got some special power, do ye?"
"Y-yes?" Taylor hesitated. "I mean, I control bugs."
"What kind o' bugs be they? Spiders, termites, weevils, or them devil-be-damned cockroaches, arr?"
"All of them, I think? I haven't found any that I can't control, at least."
"That's a very strong power." Another Taylor nodded, pushing up her glasses. "If we're talking about total control of all insects, it has tons of potential in both support and offense."
"I think met a Taylor with a similar power once, can't remember her name though."
"Was she the one who rotted off a guy's crotch with bees?"
"Yeah, that one."
What? Eww.
"How about Monarch Taylor? Like the butterfly."
"We're not giving her a secret identity, dumbass."
"Critter Whisperer?"
"She doesn't speak to bugs." That Taylor turned to her. "You don't speak to bugs, right?" She nodded. "See?"
"Insectoid?" "Taken."
"Arthropod Oracle." "Too pretentious"
"Creeper." "I don't even want to go into how wrong that sounds."
"CrawlMaster." "ANTagonist." "Lady of the Swarm" "Bugmaster." "Bugzooka." "Hivequeen." "For the last time, we're not trying to give her a secret idenity, you shit heads." "Who the fuck are you calling shitheads?" "You wanna go?"
Things devolved into chaos soon after before a hand slammed onto the table, shutting everyone up with a triumphant "I've got it! We're calling her-" Said Taylor paused for dramatic effect. "Bug Girl Taylor."
Silence. Absolute silence as all the Taylors gathered turned to stare at the girl.
"Come on! This is the part where you applaud me for the simple yet genius name!" A flying plastic bowl hit the girl's head and knock her out, her body being swallowed by the mass of Taylors who resumed their bickering.
"Do I get a say in this?" Taylor's plea felt on deaf ears, and Foxgirl gave her a side hug in sympathy.
"Everyone." Came the gentle voice of Bar Taylor as she emerged from the kitchen, and every stopped dead in their track. "Please behave yourself."
Unanimously, everyone untangled themselves from the brawl and settled down neatly around the table. Even Taylor inexplicably felt chastised hearing Bar Taylor's admonishing tone even though none of it was her fault to begin with. It was just too bad that the air of order and civility did not las long.
With a loud 'bang', the tiny Taylor from before barged into the diner, dragging her unconscious opponent in by the collar.
"Dregs, bring forth thy finest draught! Mine person is most terribly parched."
"Please join everyone at the table, Taylor. We're just about to start the party." Bar Taylor said kindly.
"Eh?" The child turned to Bar Taylor, surprised as if only now noticing her presence. "Did you just speak, hag?"
And what happened after could only be described as cataclysmic.
"You okay there, Entomancer?"
"Y-yeah." She stuttered back. "Did-did you just time freeze me?"
"Uh, yes." Clockblocker raised an arm to scratch the back of his head, before realizing that his helmet was in the way and sheepishly lowered it. "Look, I'm really sorry if it offends you. I was just trying to-"
But she was already ignoring him in favor of taking a good look at the rest of the team. The team leader Aegis was making a very good attempt at face-palming with helmet on. Kid Win and Gallant was moving to extract the time manipulator from the conversation while Vista was making to whack him on the head.
Shadow Stalker entered, took a look at her, and disappeared inside her private room without a word.
Taylor thought back to what she had witnessed in the place beyond space, time, and the concept of death and sanity. And promptly hugged Clockblocker, shocking everyone in the room.
"Thank you." She whispered. "Thank you for being normal."
It had been surprisingly easy to rope dad into helping her in the kitchen once she managed to stubborn her way through his initial reluctance. Sure, it had taken a bit of waterworks and a few tricks of the books of several Taylors with...less compuction about emotional manipulation. But since dad did not seem to mind that much and even cracked a few smiles through the experience, she wasn't going to feel too guilt about it. Besides, like Bar taylor had said, when a kid had to guilt-trip their parents into family bonding time, it wasn't the child where you had to start looking for the problem.
Looking down at the result of three hours flailing around with their culinary inexperience and lack of practice, Taylor smiled to herself.
It might have been easier to go for something conventionals like cookies, but it seemed more appropriate at the time to revive mom's favorite recipe. And even though they were a long way from replicating the quality, at least what came out of the oven tasted pretty decent, if she did say so herself. Depending on how it would be received by other hers, Taylor might even consider making more as greeting gifts for her soon-to-be teammates at the Rigs.
For now though, Taylor was content with spending time with her new friends at Little Owl, away from all the exhaustive dramas of her own world. There was no fussy Youth Guard social workers who spent more time arguing with the PRT than listening to her needs, no legal advisors hounding her on details of the absolute shitshow that was her Winslow experience, and most importantly no imposing Director Piggot and Armsmaster who might as well have been iron walls when she tried to get her words in. It was her sole island of stability in the last few chaotic days, a place where she could sit back, relax, and – why was there a transparrent barrier forming around her?
*BOOOOOM*
There was a deafening explosion as almost the entire left wall of the first floor was blasted open. Debris and dust rained harmlessly against the glowing shield, but the kinetic force was enough to knock Taylor off her feet. Instantly alert, she tried to call up her power...and cursed at the realization that she wasn't carrying any of her insect swarms.
"Behold, dreg." A younger version of her stepped over the rubble, revealing herself to be a young version of Taylor in adorably baggy clothes and the smuggest expression she had ever seen. "for thou dost gaze upon the mighty visage of the one true Lord of the Ocean."
"Heh, whatever you say," The Taylor-shaped projectile that had made its spectacular exit through the wall stood up while making a show of dusting off her shoulders. "Fish brat."
"It seemeth it would take more than one beating to make the wretch realize her folly." The smug grin turned feral as the child Taylor's body turned into water and expanded. And expanded. And expanded.
'Is that a giant fucking mermaid?' Taylor thought in shock as she witnessed the fifty-something feet tall mythical creature floating in mid-air and wielding a suitably massive trident, the silver gleam of her scales and fins radiating both beauty and lethality.
"Throwing a tantrum isn't going to help you case, brat. But whatever," The other Taylor smirked, before making some strange signs with her hands. A massive purple skeletons torso bursted into existence before being rapidly covered in muscles and smoky armors. Its eyes shone balefully as its four arms drews out giant swords from their sheaths. "I'm craving some sushi anyway."
The two collosal creatures brandished their weapon, ready for the clash that would surely devastate anything in their path...before disappearing in one resounding 'pop'.
...
"What the fuck was that?"
"Hi New Taylor, over here!" Bar Taylor called out from the opened front door, motioning her to come in as if there weren't just two Endbringer-like parahumans wrecking the place. Mutedly, Taylor obliged, following the woman inside.
"Oh, you brought food as well?" Bar Taylor looked back, smiling.
"Yeah," Shaking her head trying to get rid of the whiplash, Taylor amended. "I mean yes. I and my dad made meatloaf with mom's recipe, and you said I should bring something to share with everyone. Hope it doesn't taste too bad."
She held out the plastic container, which Bar Taylor took gratefully and peared inside. "I'm sure everyone will enjoy it. I think we also have some mashed potato and salad." Closing the lid, she smiled. "I'll be in the kitchen for a minute. You can go join the others. PRT Princess is absent today, but there is Foxgirl over there."
"Right, thank you." Taylor turned away from the counter to look at the surprisingly intact dining area save for a few wrecked tables and chairs close to the newly made hole in the wall. The rest had either been stacked against the wall to save space or arranged around a big round table where about a dozen other Taylors were sitting. Most of them were new faces she had never seen before, though some she luckily did recognize. Exorcist Club Taylor was nonchalantly going through a bag of chips, content with watching the chaos unfold. Banished Saintess Taylor was in the process of dispelling her protective barrier miracle, her forehead drenched in sweats. Off the the side was the slightly older-looking Super Sentai Taylor trying her best to mediate the bunch bickering over a boardgame of some sort, and finally Foxgirl Taylor was waving enthusiastically at Taylor while patting the small space next to her on the beanbag chair. Taking the offered seat, Taylor obediently took the giant tail that landed on her lap and started combing her finger through the mass of fur.
Fluffy~
"What the hell was that?" Taylor looked to the newest renovation to the diner.
"Ah, that." Foxgirl cringed slightly. "We just had a new Taylor arriving, and she immediately started rambling about there being no two suns in the same sky and defeating the Demon Lord of the Land to prove herself the one supreme Lord of the world." She paused a bit in thought, putting a finger on her cheek. "The capitalization is important, I think? She put a lot of emphasis on the 'Lord' bit."
"Should we be concerned?" Taylor asked. "I mean their fight looked pretty serious."
"Nah, usually Bar Taylor just put them in a timeout spot a safe distance away and let them sort it out." An enraged cry came from the opposite end of the gathering as Taylor saw two identical-looking Taylors among the boardgaming group tried to stranggle each other. "Bar Taylor generally allow us to duke it out so long as things are resolved in the end. Some of us really need to vent off their frustration from their own worlds, you know?"
"Their 'venting' looks like it can level cities though."
"Eh, all the more reason to do it here where there's no risk of property damage. Besides, it's not like they can really kill each other so long as she doesn't allow it." Foxgirl shrugged. " That reminds me though, have you thought of a good nickname yet? Might be good to make it official when there's a lot of us here."
"Not really," Taylor hesitated. "We haven't even agreed on my Ward name yet, and I just found out today that even my dad though my naming sense was garbage." Her face flushed as she remembered the arkwardness and humiliation as both dad and Mr. Chambers silently turned their heads to look at her, then at each other before signing in some kind of silent communication.
"New meat, eh?"
She did not know whose voice it was, but most of the Taylors present turned to her, and she got the distinct impression of being stared down by a pack of hungry wolves. Foxgirl's whispered 'oh boy' did not help one bit.
"Hi?" Taylor managed to squeak out.
"Seein' as we got another New Taylor joinin' us today, what say ye we commence the Naming Ritual, arr?"
'Nay.' Taylor mentally refused.
"AYE!" The majority of the Taylors gathering said otherwise.
"Guys, don't bully the new girl." Super Sentai signed in exasperation.
"Nonsense! It be beneath us to resort to somethin' so barbaric, arr!" The pack leader, a Taylor who wouldn't look out of place in a pirate convention, waved off the concerned older girl. "So, New Taylor. Ye be needin' to give us some info to work with here. Got some special power, do ye?"
"Y-yes?" Taylor hesitated. "I mean, I control bugs."
"What kind o' bugs be they? Spiders, termites, weevils, or them devil-be-damned cockroaches, arr?"
"All of them, I think? I haven't found any that I can't control, at least."
"That's a very strong power." Another Taylor nodded, pushing up her glasses. "If we're talking about total control of all insects, it has tons of potential in both support and offense."
"I think met a Taylor with a similar power once, can't remember her name though."
"Was she the one who rotted off a guy's crotch with bees?"
"Yeah, that one."
What? Eww.
"How about Monarch Taylor? Like the butterfly."
"We're not giving her a secret identity, dumbass."
"Critter Whisperer?"
"She doesn't speak to bugs." That Taylor turned to her. "You don't speak to bugs, right?" She nodded. "See?"
"Insectoid?" "Taken."
"Arthropod Oracle." "Too pretentious"
"Creeper." "I don't even want to go into how wrong that sounds."
"CrawlMaster." "ANTagonist." "Lady of the Swarm" "Bugmaster." "Bugzooka." "Hivequeen." "For the last time, we're not trying to give her a secret idenity, you shit heads." "Who the fuck are you calling shitheads?" "You wanna go?"
Things devolved into chaos soon after before a hand slammed onto the table, shutting everyone up with a triumphant "I've got it! We're calling her-" Said Taylor paused for dramatic effect. "Bug Girl Taylor."
Silence. Absolute silence as all the Taylors gathered turned to stare at the girl.
"Come on! This is the part where you applaud me for the simple yet genius name!" A flying plastic bowl hit the girl's head and knock her out, her body being swallowed by the mass of Taylors who resumed their bickering.
"Do I get a say in this?" Taylor's plea felt on deaf ears, and Foxgirl gave her a side hug in sympathy.
"Everyone." Came the gentle voice of Bar Taylor as she emerged from the kitchen, and every stopped dead in their track. "Please behave yourself."
Unanimously, everyone untangled themselves from the brawl and settled down neatly around the table. Even Taylor inexplicably felt chastised hearing Bar Taylor's admonishing tone even though none of it was her fault to begin with. It was just too bad that the air of order and civility did not las long.
With a loud 'bang', the tiny Taylor from before barged into the diner, dragging her unconscious opponent in by the collar.
"Dregs, bring forth thy finest draught! Mine person is most terribly parched."
"Please join everyone at the table, Taylor. We're just about to start the party." Bar Taylor said kindly.
"Eh?" The child turned to Bar Taylor, surprised as if only now noticing her presence. "Did you just speak, hag?"
And what happened after could only be described as cataclysmic.
---***---
Taylor shuddered as she came out of her daze.
"You okay there, Entomancer?"
"Y-yeah." She stuttered back. "Did-did you just time freeze me?"
"Uh, yes." Clockblocker raised an arm to scratch the back of his head, before realizing that his helmet was in the way and sheepishly lowered it. "Look, I'm really sorry if it offends you. I was just trying to-"
But she was already ignoring him in favor of taking a good look at the rest of the team. The team leader Aegis was making a very good attempt at face-palming with helmet on. Kid Win and Gallant was moving to extract the time manipulator from the conversation while Vista was making to whack him on the head.
Shadow Stalker entered, took a look at her, and disappeared inside her private room without a word.
Taylor thought back to what she had witnessed in the place beyond space, time, and the concept of death and sanity. And promptly hugged Clockblocker, shocking everyone in the room.
"Thank you." She whispered. "Thank you for being normal."
Things no longer allowed involving Taylors
"Oh, I almost forgot." Bar Taylor exclaimed before reaching under the counter to retrieve what looked like a touchscreen phone and handing it to Taylor. "Here's your translocator, provided by Arc Inventor Taylor free of charge. Since you don't seem to have dimension hopping power, you will need it to travel between here and your own world."
"Just try not to rely on it too much a panic escape though." PRT Princess chimed in. "When Bar Taylor said it's a dimension outside of space and time, she meant it. You return to the exact time and location you left, meaning that if you're about to be shot and teleport here, the bullets will still be there waiting for you on your way back, only now you are also momentarily dazed from the world jumping."
"What if I lose it and someone picks it up?" 'or if someone steals it?' Taylor mentally added, thinking back to her three tormentors. "Will they also be able to travel here?"
Nevermind the fact that once Taylor was seen carrying something this fancy, they would certainly try to take it and likely would succeed, she absolutely did not want those bitches to get their hands on and ruin even this place for her.
"You won't have to worry about that. Just put it on." Taylor reluctantly did as she was told. There was a slight pricking sensation, but it vanished just as quickly. "The device takes and is keyed to your biometric information, so you and only you can open, let alone use it. Taylors without such data will have to meet Arc Inventor to have it personally modified, but it should suffice for you."
Reassured, Taylor curiously touched the screen, which lit up and displayed the homescreen after a brief unlocking animation. There was a few icons of apps she would expect from a conventional phone, but on the second screen she could see one labelled 'TRANSFER' with the icon being a cartoonish drawing of Bar Taylor's smiling face.
"You can either pass it up as your phone or have it disguising as any of your usual accessories with just a though." PRT Princess took out her phone and showed the back to Taylor. On the phone case was a cartoon Hero sticker, which PRT Princess peeled off. With incredulous eyes, Taylor witnessed as the flimsy sticker melted, expanded, and reshaping itself into an exact copy of the device on her hand. "You can even configure the setting to activate the transport function just by thinking of it, but I've never needed it myself."
Looking at her own device, Taylor fed it her mental image and watched as it also melted, spreaded all over her arm, and sank under her skin. "Woaa..."
"I know, right?" PRT Princess laughed.
"Tinkers are such bullshit." Taylor grinned.
"There's also the chat forum and rule book, but you will need it in a form with a screen to use them." Bar Taylor said. "The forum is pretty intuitive to navigate even if you haven't used one before. It's useful for if you want to have a quick chat without having to arrange a meeting here."
"And the rulebook?" Taylor transformed her device back to a touchscreen. She opened the 'RULES' app an was met with a Wiki-like display.
"Those are a list of things you should avoid doing while you're here. Just common courtesy for the most part." Bar Taylor sighed. "A great many are Taylor-specific though. This is supposed to be a place where you can let your hair down so I don't like to restrict other Taylors too much, but you can imagine that when a bunch of us hang out at the same place, things can get rather...rowdy."
"Just think of it as casual reading material." PRT Princess snickered. "The stuffs we Taylors get up to are pretty entertaining."
Nodding, Taylor scrolled through the list, which apparently came up to two hundred pages.
'Rule 2: Don't be a bigot and discriminate against others. Most Taylors can kick your ass and will for doing so, starting with Bar Taylor.'
'Rule 23: Assume everyone you meet is a Taylor regardless of their apparent age, gender, or personality. The multiverse is a large place.'
'Rule 37: Don't try to kill each other. You can't.'
'Addendum: Don't take this as a challenge.
'Rule 84: Ask Bar Taylor for permission before a spar.'
'Seems normal enough.' Taylor though, scrolling quickly to the later half of the rules.
'Rule 172059: Don't involve other Taylors into your fights.'
'Addendum A: not even when they can turn into weapons.'
'Addendum B: ESPECIALLY when they CAN'T turn into weapons.'
Hesitantly, Taylor played the video under the tab.
It was a footage of an open brawl in the diner. Everyone was in various states of drunkeness, but especially notable was an Amazonian-looking Taylor who was swinging a large club around while laughing boisterously.
Wait.
No, that wasn't a club.
She was holding another unconscious Taylor by the ankles. And bonking others over the head with scary precision.
"Some of us are crazy." Taylor muttered.
"Nah, that's where you're wrong, New Taylor." PRT Princess grinned. "ALL of us are crazy."
"Just try not to rely on it too much a panic escape though." PRT Princess chimed in. "When Bar Taylor said it's a dimension outside of space and time, she meant it. You return to the exact time and location you left, meaning that if you're about to be shot and teleport here, the bullets will still be there waiting for you on your way back, only now you are also momentarily dazed from the world jumping."
"What if I lose it and someone picks it up?" 'or if someone steals it?' Taylor mentally added, thinking back to her three tormentors. "Will they also be able to travel here?"
Nevermind the fact that once Taylor was seen carrying something this fancy, they would certainly try to take it and likely would succeed, she absolutely did not want those bitches to get their hands on and ruin even this place for her.
"You won't have to worry about that. Just put it on." Taylor reluctantly did as she was told. There was a slight pricking sensation, but it vanished just as quickly. "The device takes and is keyed to your biometric information, so you and only you can open, let alone use it. Taylors without such data will have to meet Arc Inventor to have it personally modified, but it should suffice for you."
Reassured, Taylor curiously touched the screen, which lit up and displayed the homescreen after a brief unlocking animation. There was a few icons of apps she would expect from a conventional phone, but on the second screen she could see one labelled 'TRANSFER' with the icon being a cartoonish drawing of Bar Taylor's smiling face.
"You can either pass it up as your phone or have it disguising as any of your usual accessories with just a though." PRT Princess took out her phone and showed the back to Taylor. On the phone case was a cartoon Hero sticker, which PRT Princess peeled off. With incredulous eyes, Taylor witnessed as the flimsy sticker melted, expanded, and reshaping itself into an exact copy of the device on her hand. "You can even configure the setting to activate the transport function just by thinking of it, but I've never needed it myself."
Looking at her own device, Taylor fed it her mental image and watched as it also melted, spreaded all over her arm, and sank under her skin. "Woaa..."
"I know, right?" PRT Princess laughed.
"Tinkers are such bullshit." Taylor grinned.
"There's also the chat forum and rule book, but you will need it in a form with a screen to use them." Bar Taylor said. "The forum is pretty intuitive to navigate even if you haven't used one before. It's useful for if you want to have a quick chat without having to arrange a meeting here."
"And the rulebook?" Taylor transformed her device back to a touchscreen. She opened the 'RULES' app an was met with a Wiki-like display.
"Those are a list of things you should avoid doing while you're here. Just common courtesy for the most part." Bar Taylor sighed. "A great many are Taylor-specific though. This is supposed to be a place where you can let your hair down so I don't like to restrict other Taylors too much, but you can imagine that when a bunch of us hang out at the same place, things can get rather...rowdy."
"Just think of it as casual reading material." PRT Princess snickered. "The stuffs we Taylors get up to are pretty entertaining."
Nodding, Taylor scrolled through the list, which apparently came up to two hundred pages.
'Rule 2: Don't be a bigot and discriminate against others. Most Taylors can kick your ass and will for doing so, starting with Bar Taylor.'
'Rule 23: Assume everyone you meet is a Taylor regardless of their apparent age, gender, or personality. The multiverse is a large place.'
'Rule 37: Don't try to kill each other. You can't.'
'Addendum: Don't take this as a challenge.
'Rule 84: Ask Bar Taylor for permission before a spar.'
'Seems normal enough.' Taylor though, scrolling quickly to the later half of the rules.
'Rule 172059: Don't involve other Taylors into your fights.'
'Addendum A: not even when they can turn into weapons.'
'Addendum B: ESPECIALLY when they CAN'T turn into weapons.'
Hesitantly, Taylor played the video under the tab.
It was a footage of an open brawl in the diner. Everyone was in various states of drunkeness, but especially notable was an Amazonian-looking Taylor who was swinging a large club around while laughing boisterously.
Wait.
No, that wasn't a club.
She was holding another unconscious Taylor by the ankles. And bonking others over the head with scary precision.
"Some of us are crazy." Taylor muttered.
"Nah, that's where you're wrong, New Taylor." PRT Princess grinned. "ALL of us are crazy."
Chapter 5: Skirts, Skit, and Strongest Taylor
New
"Here's your order, Insect Master," said a beautiful girl in elegant French maid attire, setting a cup of soda and a plate with a cheese burger and fries in front of Taylor. "Enjoy your meal, and feel free to call me if you need anything else."
"Ah... oh! Yes, thank you, Maidroid." Taylor blushed slightly at the positively beaming smile that her android counterpart returned before she walked off to take more orders. While spending time at Little Owl should have made her more resistant to the more beautified (and sometimes genderbent) versions of herself, it was still immensely difficult to keep her composure when the newest addition to the part-time staff just seemed so genuinely happy to serve.
"Having a crush on the new girl already?" Foxgirl reached out and poked Taylor's cheek, which made her sputter. "Not that I can blame you. Pretty face, nice figure, and a soothing voice. Girl is definitely shooting up the popularity poll this month."
"There is a popularity poll?"
"You don't normally see them on the newsfeed. They're mostly shoved way down into the Quarantine Quarter and out of sight since things tend to get rowdy and out of topic fast and the mods gave up trying after a while." PRT Princess sipped on her grape soda. "Not that it keeps them from having the most interaction out of all the threads. I think the popularity poll has like dozens of separate discussion threads on its own."
"They're where you vote for the 'mosts' of all Taylors." Foxgirl speared another chicken nugget from her plate with a fork. "It just happens that the popularity poll thread includes a mini profile for each Taylor with the option to add users' comments, which are hilarious to read by the way."
Curious, Taylor pulled up the Forum on her device and scrolled down. True enough, the subforum was located way down at the bottom of the homepage with a rather ominous banner and upon entering displayed several poll threads with the 'Which Taylor is best girl' prominently stickied at the top. Going a bit futher down were a few other active voting threads for who was the 'cutest', 'most badass', 'largest harem, 'edgiest', and more. Notably, the 'Which Taylor is the strongest?' thread didn't actually have an active poll at all, just a locked one with 'The Strongest Taylor' standing at the top and other users gushing and making meme images about her absurb alleged feats of strength.
"Here's your entry, look." Foxgirl excitedly showed Taylor her profile in the populartiy thread, which only contained a cropped out picture from her group selfies with Foxgirl and PRT Princess, several lines of basic information about her power and home universe, as well as several commentary notes that ranged wildly between 'I can take her' to 'not the bees!'. More than that though was the number attached to the top of the folder.
"139th? Out of how many?" Taylor opened the thread on her own device and frowned at the number. "276? That's…"
"Aw. Don't be sad, Buggy." Foxgirl glomped Taylor and giggled while playfully patting her head. "You just haven't had time to befriend others yet. I bet you will shoot up the ranking once they get to know you."
"Easy to say for someone permanently in the top 30." PRT Princess snarked. "Besides, it's not like the actual ranking matters that much. We tend to just vote for the people most memorable to us any particular week, and those who like to keep it to themselves or in a small group will naturally not show up higher. Even then, noone is going to think any less of you no matter how low your number is. It's just supposed to be for fun, not a social hiarchy ranking."
"Ah…yeah. You're right. I shouldn't be bothered by it. It doesn't bother me at all." Taylor chuckled. "By the way, what's your ranking?"
"26th!" Foxgirl declared.
"sigh…45th." PRT Princess facepalmed, then muttered something about another victim of the poll.
Yup, it's fine.
It's fine.
It didn't bother her.
…
…
…
It bothered her.
It bothered her... A LOT.
"You can put up some kind of performance next Friday." Foxgirl rested her chin on Taylor's shoulder. "Like singing a song or doing a comedy skit. Or just any kind of talent you have, with or without your power. Hey Princess, remember Food Girl Taylor?"
PRT Princess looked up and frowned in thought for a few seconds, before making a distinct sound of choking back a laugh. "Yeah, that was…wild." She turned to Taylor. "Food Girl Taylor has the power to make food appear out of her hands no matter the size and quantity, so she once threw a whole party here in celebration of getting into the Ward. The thing is: she was kind of drunk before that because one of her teammate sneaked some beer in the common room."
"Food Girl proceeded to bury everyone in all kinds of alcohol-spiked food up to our waist, did a Jesus impression by turning water in the sink into milk, drank like a gallon of it and started a food fight, then passed out on the counter. It was glorious!" Foxgirl gushed excitedly.
"And messy. The cleanup after everyone woke up tooks days." PRT Princess said. "But I admit that the experience was quite fun. And very memorable."
"Hmmm." Taylor frowned in thought. "I'll see what I can do." Mr. Chamber did say she needed more coaching and practice to maintain image as a hero with bug-controlling power. It's going to be hard to think of something visually striking with her insects without also unsettling or terrifying people in the process.
"Just try not to be too stressed about it." PRT Princess finished the rest of her drink. "You can also ask Bar Taylor for ideas and also for permission. It's best to keep her informed before you decide to to something ridiculously outrageous, or you'd annoy her. And we don't want an annoyed Bar taylor."
The three of them shuddered at the memory.
"By the way, who is this 'The Strongest Taylor'?" Taylor searched the poll for the entry, which made the page jump way up. "And she also rank 8th on the popularity poll too."
Unfortunately, clicking to reveal the drop down folder showed all the information being [Redacted by TRQ], and all the parahuman parameter being 'Yes'. What kind of god-like, mythical figure was this?
"Oh…you mean her." PRT Princess glanced at the file Taylor showed and grimaced. "It's a bit complicated."
"What do you mean complicated?" Taylor raised her eyebrows.
"The Strongest Taylor is not exactly A Taylor, but more of a…collective I suppose. It started out as an inside joke but kind of got out of control. So a long time ago-"
Before PRT Princess could proceed with her explanation though, another (presumable) Taylor showed up in the diner. However, instead of popping up outside with her device and walking in through the front door, this one fell down a portal seemingly made out of spinning sparks hovering in mid-air while clutching another person wrapped in her cloak.
Instead of descending into chaos like she would expect from a typical diner in a cape incident, the Taylors presented quickly moved away to make space, and a couple even rose from their seat to help.
"Endbringer." The new Taylor panted out. "Behemoth in the Bay. Targeting her. Called the TRQ." She let Maidroid Taylor take the person in the cloak, who also looked to be an unconscious younger Taylor covered in scrapes and bruises. Bar Taylor reached over the counter to take out what looked like syringes and gave the struggling girl an injection, which seemed to stabolize and put her to sleep.
Multiple distinct popping sounds of teleportation could be heard outside and in rushed several Taylors in various kinds of costumes who crowded around the unconscious pair with expressions of worry. One of them, who Taylor recognized as Wrathful Saintess dropped to her knees beside the two and started healing them.
"Apprentice Mage said Behemoth specifically targeted her in her distress call. How did that happen?" A Taylor in red cape and blue spandex asked, clearly frustrated. "Why would it single her out in particular?"
Discussion broke out between the bunch, but the the three of them weren't close enough to make out anything else.
"Looks like a Leviathan situation." Foxgirl bit her lips in worry. "That can't be good."
"She said it's Behemoth though?" Taylor asked in confusion.
"Not literally, Buggy." PRT Princess said. "It's a term we use around here to call Endbringers attacks where the native Taylor is heavily involved. Leviathan is just the one which shows up the most often. And the danger is not even in the attack itself."
"We don't know how things are the way they are, but 'Leviathan' tend to be a very delicate event to handle on the metaphysical side for those of us coming from world with parahuman power system." PRT Princess continued in a hushed tone. "It's like the attack itself messes with the structural integrity of the world, and many have seen their worlds frozen or vanished either during or after the attack. The Endbringer doesn't even seem to factor in the matter itself, just the fact that the Taylor is involved in it."
"H-How!?" Taylor asked in disbelief. Didn't that mean she herself could be the reason her world disappear should an attack happen in Brockton Bay?
"That's the thing: we don't know." Foxgirl hands around Taylor squeezed a bit tighter. "It's hard to establish a pattern when the worlds either are already gone before we know or destabilize even faster if multiple powerful Taylors come to help."
"The only thing that works consistantly is to avoid Endbringer attacks as much as possible If that fails, stick to supporting roles and stay away from the actual fighting." PRT Princess reached out to squeeze Taylor's hand.
"Yeah…right. Avoid Endbringer attacks. Got it." Taylor agreed shaily. Not that she ever entertained the thought of taking those monsters on in the first place? What were bees and spiders going to do against something that kills capes by the hundreds everytime they show up? "So, what happens now? For them, I mean."
By the look of it, several of them seemed riled up and ready to charge off and punch Behemoth in the face. And maybe some of them were capable of it too, but the information she just received made it seem…less than desirable.
"For now? Just wait for the two of them to heal up and then discuss what to do, I guess. We have all the time we need in this dimension, so there is that." PRT Princess said. "Even if Apprentice Mage can teleport out of town, things may get complicated if the Endbringer is indeed targeting her."
Silence descended upon them and Taylor mind confured up all kinds of worst case scenario.
"Say," She said "why would an Endbringer even want Apprentice Mage dead? I don't think I have read a single case of them having it out for a specific cape before, even those in the Triumvirate."
"Ah, no. I don't think she's the target in this case." Foxgirl pointed toward the little girl being tended to by Maidroid. "Most likely it's her. The Strongest Taylor."
"Ah... oh! Yes, thank you, Maidroid." Taylor blushed slightly at the positively beaming smile that her android counterpart returned before she walked off to take more orders. While spending time at Little Owl should have made her more resistant to the more beautified (and sometimes genderbent) versions of herself, it was still immensely difficult to keep her composure when the newest addition to the part-time staff just seemed so genuinely happy to serve.
"Having a crush on the new girl already?" Foxgirl reached out and poked Taylor's cheek, which made her sputter. "Not that I can blame you. Pretty face, nice figure, and a soothing voice. Girl is definitely shooting up the popularity poll this month."
"There is a popularity poll?"
"You don't normally see them on the newsfeed. They're mostly shoved way down into the Quarantine Quarter and out of sight since things tend to get rowdy and out of topic fast and the mods gave up trying after a while." PRT Princess sipped on her grape soda. "Not that it keeps them from having the most interaction out of all the threads. I think the popularity poll has like dozens of separate discussion threads on its own."
"They're where you vote for the 'mosts' of all Taylors." Foxgirl speared another chicken nugget from her plate with a fork. "It just happens that the popularity poll thread includes a mini profile for each Taylor with the option to add users' comments, which are hilarious to read by the way."
Curious, Taylor pulled up the Forum on her device and scrolled down. True enough, the subforum was located way down at the bottom of the homepage with a rather ominous banner and upon entering displayed several poll threads with the 'Which Taylor is best girl' prominently stickied at the top. Going a bit futher down were a few other active voting threads for who was the 'cutest', 'most badass', 'largest harem, 'edgiest', and more. Notably, the 'Which Taylor is the strongest?' thread didn't actually have an active poll at all, just a locked one with 'The Strongest Taylor' standing at the top and other users gushing and making meme images about her absurb alleged feats of strength.
"Here's your entry, look." Foxgirl excitedly showed Taylor her profile in the populartiy thread, which only contained a cropped out picture from her group selfies with Foxgirl and PRT Princess, several lines of basic information about her power and home universe, as well as several commentary notes that ranged wildly between 'I can take her' to 'not the bees!'. More than that though was the number attached to the top of the folder.
"139th? Out of how many?" Taylor opened the thread on her own device and frowned at the number. "276? That's…"
"Aw. Don't be sad, Buggy." Foxgirl glomped Taylor and giggled while playfully patting her head. "You just haven't had time to befriend others yet. I bet you will shoot up the ranking once they get to know you."
"Easy to say for someone permanently in the top 30." PRT Princess snarked. "Besides, it's not like the actual ranking matters that much. We tend to just vote for the people most memorable to us any particular week, and those who like to keep it to themselves or in a small group will naturally not show up higher. Even then, noone is going to think any less of you no matter how low your number is. It's just supposed to be for fun, not a social hiarchy ranking."
"Ah…yeah. You're right. I shouldn't be bothered by it. It doesn't bother me at all." Taylor chuckled. "By the way, what's your ranking?"
"26th!" Foxgirl declared.
"sigh…45th." PRT Princess facepalmed, then muttered something about another victim of the poll.
Yup, it's fine.
It's fine.
It didn't bother her.
…
…
…
It bothered her.
It bothered her... A LOT.
"You can put up some kind of performance next Friday." Foxgirl rested her chin on Taylor's shoulder. "Like singing a song or doing a comedy skit. Or just any kind of talent you have, with or without your power. Hey Princess, remember Food Girl Taylor?"
PRT Princess looked up and frowned in thought for a few seconds, before making a distinct sound of choking back a laugh. "Yeah, that was…wild." She turned to Taylor. "Food Girl Taylor has the power to make food appear out of her hands no matter the size and quantity, so she once threw a whole party here in celebration of getting into the Ward. The thing is: she was kind of drunk before that because one of her teammate sneaked some beer in the common room."
"Food Girl proceeded to bury everyone in all kinds of alcohol-spiked food up to our waist, did a Jesus impression by turning water in the sink into milk, drank like a gallon of it and started a food fight, then passed out on the counter. It was glorious!" Foxgirl gushed excitedly.
"And messy. The cleanup after everyone woke up tooks days." PRT Princess said. "But I admit that the experience was quite fun. And very memorable."
"Hmmm." Taylor frowned in thought. "I'll see what I can do." Mr. Chamber did say she needed more coaching and practice to maintain image as a hero with bug-controlling power. It's going to be hard to think of something visually striking with her insects without also unsettling or terrifying people in the process.
"Just try not to be too stressed about it." PRT Princess finished the rest of her drink. "You can also ask Bar Taylor for ideas and also for permission. It's best to keep her informed before you decide to to something ridiculously outrageous, or you'd annoy her. And we don't want an annoyed Bar taylor."
The three of them shuddered at the memory.
"By the way, who is this 'The Strongest Taylor'?" Taylor searched the poll for the entry, which made the page jump way up. "And she also rank 8th on the popularity poll too."
Unfortunately, clicking to reveal the drop down folder showed all the information being [Redacted by TRQ], and all the parahuman parameter being 'Yes'. What kind of god-like, mythical figure was this?
"Oh…you mean her." PRT Princess glanced at the file Taylor showed and grimaced. "It's a bit complicated."
"What do you mean complicated?" Taylor raised her eyebrows.
"The Strongest Taylor is not exactly A Taylor, but more of a…collective I suppose. It started out as an inside joke but kind of got out of control. So a long time ago-"
Before PRT Princess could proceed with her explanation though, another (presumable) Taylor showed up in the diner. However, instead of popping up outside with her device and walking in through the front door, this one fell down a portal seemingly made out of spinning sparks hovering in mid-air while clutching another person wrapped in her cloak.
Instead of descending into chaos like she would expect from a typical diner in a cape incident, the Taylors presented quickly moved away to make space, and a couple even rose from their seat to help.
"Endbringer." The new Taylor panted out. "Behemoth in the Bay. Targeting her. Called the TRQ." She let Maidroid Taylor take the person in the cloak, who also looked to be an unconscious younger Taylor covered in scrapes and bruises. Bar Taylor reached over the counter to take out what looked like syringes and gave the struggling girl an injection, which seemed to stabolize and put her to sleep.
Multiple distinct popping sounds of teleportation could be heard outside and in rushed several Taylors in various kinds of costumes who crowded around the unconscious pair with expressions of worry. One of them, who Taylor recognized as Wrathful Saintess dropped to her knees beside the two and started healing them.
"Apprentice Mage said Behemoth specifically targeted her in her distress call. How did that happen?" A Taylor in red cape and blue spandex asked, clearly frustrated. "Why would it single her out in particular?"
Discussion broke out between the bunch, but the the three of them weren't close enough to make out anything else.
"Looks like a Leviathan situation." Foxgirl bit her lips in worry. "That can't be good."
"She said it's Behemoth though?" Taylor asked in confusion.
"Not literally, Buggy." PRT Princess said. "It's a term we use around here to call Endbringers attacks where the native Taylor is heavily involved. Leviathan is just the one which shows up the most often. And the danger is not even in the attack itself."
"We don't know how things are the way they are, but 'Leviathan' tend to be a very delicate event to handle on the metaphysical side for those of us coming from world with parahuman power system." PRT Princess continued in a hushed tone. "It's like the attack itself messes with the structural integrity of the world, and many have seen their worlds frozen or vanished either during or after the attack. The Endbringer doesn't even seem to factor in the matter itself, just the fact that the Taylor is involved in it."
"H-How!?" Taylor asked in disbelief. Didn't that mean she herself could be the reason her world disappear should an attack happen in Brockton Bay?
"That's the thing: we don't know." Foxgirl hands around Taylor squeezed a bit tighter. "It's hard to establish a pattern when the worlds either are already gone before we know or destabilize even faster if multiple powerful Taylors come to help."
"The only thing that works consistantly is to avoid Endbringer attacks as much as possible If that fails, stick to supporting roles and stay away from the actual fighting." PRT Princess reached out to squeeze Taylor's hand.
"Yeah…right. Avoid Endbringer attacks. Got it." Taylor agreed shaily. Not that she ever entertained the thought of taking those monsters on in the first place? What were bees and spiders going to do against something that kills capes by the hundreds everytime they show up? "So, what happens now? For them, I mean."
By the look of it, several of them seemed riled up and ready to charge off and punch Behemoth in the face. And maybe some of them were capable of it too, but the information she just received made it seem…less than desirable.
"For now? Just wait for the two of them to heal up and then discuss what to do, I guess. We have all the time we need in this dimension, so there is that." PRT Princess said. "Even if Apprentice Mage can teleport out of town, things may get complicated if the Endbringer is indeed targeting her."
Silence descended upon them and Taylor mind confured up all kinds of worst case scenario.
"Say," She said "why would an Endbringer even want Apprentice Mage dead? I don't think I have read a single case of them having it out for a specific cape before, even those in the Triumvirate."
"Ah, no. I don't think she's the target in this case." Foxgirl pointed toward the little girl being tended to by Maidroid. "Most likely it's her. The Strongest Taylor."