Kinsfire
Verified {Redacted}
- Location
- New Jersey
To be honest, when given a target the size of Australia ... *laugh*
My Life as a Teenage Juggernaut... (Worm AU x Marvel)
- Thread starter Kryslin
- Start date
- Crossover Superhero
To be honest, when given a target the size of Australia ... *laugh*
- Location
- Scotland
Australia nothing. From what I've heard it's a target the size of the North American Continent
.
- Location
- I'll never tell...
Just the North American?Australia nothing. From what I've heard it's a target the size of the North American Continent
Kinsfire
Verified {Redacted}
- Location
- New Jersey
I never picked the WoT books back up, when I realized that every time a new book came out, I'd have to go back and read through ALL the books again. And those buggers are THICK. I like thick books, I cannot lie. But that's a bit much, and I realized it was only going to get worse the deeper in I got, and the world wasn't THAT interesting to me.
I've never read Worm, or been tempted to read Worm, specifically because of threads like these where so many people share a common opinion of the story. I'm just grateful it's inspired so many authors to create good fanfics of it. Except the very few who seem to feel that they have to top Worm for grimdarkness.
Had a call out this morning, to an unattended death. (No biggie, fairly certain it will be natural causes, he was nearly a hundred years old.)
It was the building that caused all the problems. A cheap apartment building, built in 1915, by the city records. The hallways were forty-two inches wide, doorways were seventy-five inches tall and twenty-eight inches wide. Our subject lived on the fourth floor. They had an elevator... of sorts.
It was one of the old cage style, with a warning in big letters: "Only two passengers at a time. No more than five hundred pounds load."
According to the tenant I talked to, no one but a couple of people using walkers ever used the thing.
I now have an omake percolating, about power armoured and 'people of exceptional density' problems with older buildings, cheaply made buildings, and derelict ruins.
Because this Juggernaut would have hated that building.
Cain Marko, on the other hand, would have just gone through it, bitching about plaster dust.
It was the building that caused all the problems. A cheap apartment building, built in 1915, by the city records. The hallways were forty-two inches wide, doorways were seventy-five inches tall and twenty-eight inches wide. Our subject lived on the fourth floor. They had an elevator... of sorts.
It was one of the old cage style, with a warning in big letters: "Only two passengers at a time. No more than five hundred pounds load."
According to the tenant I talked to, no one but a couple of people using walkers ever used the thing.
I now have an omake percolating, about power armoured and 'people of exceptional density' problems with older buildings, cheaply made buildings, and derelict ruins.
Because this Juggernaut would have hated that building.
Cain Marko, on the other hand, would have just gone through it, bitching about plaster dust.
- Location
- Somewhere In Pa
- Pronouns
- Mr
As for the purposes of this discussion, this means precisely shit. Fanfic wouldn't be fanfic if we took whatever the author says about the series as Gospel. That's why there're so many fixfics out there.
- Location
- Somewhere In Pa
- Pronouns
- Mr
I think it's been pretty much established that he cared little for the characters he was creating. That's why I call Wildbow a hack, and have little respect for him as a writer.
Even though she wasn't originally my character, the version of Taylor in my currently in the works Worm fanfic suffered worse that in canon; she lost both legs just above the knee. If it weren't part of the plot, I wouldn't have done that; I actually do care.
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
For those of you who are familiar with me, there are a few weekends of the year that I don't post on.
One of which is the US Memorial Day weekend. Which also happens to be the Weekend that Anime North runs in Toronto, and the Wifi / Wireless / Local Internet is nearly overloaded by 33K anime fans in the few square kilometers of the Toronto Congress Center (also, I usually leave my master and working files behind).
Never Fear! I, your author, have Planned Ahead™ and have gotten next week's chapter done this week!
So you'll get the chapter early!
Also, if you're visiting Anime North, you can find the Author in the Art Gallery, making sure everyone is well behaved. My badge will have my Nom du Internet (Internet handle) on it. If my schedule holds from last year, I'm there most afternoons (Friday, Saturday, and for close Sunday).
One of which is the US Memorial Day weekend. Which also happens to be the Weekend that Anime North runs in Toronto, and the Wifi / Wireless / Local Internet is nearly overloaded by 33K anime fans in the few square kilometers of the Toronto Congress Center (also, I usually leave my master and working files behind).
Never Fear! I, your author, have Planned Ahead™ and have gotten next week's chapter done this week!
So you'll get the chapter early!
Also, if you're visiting Anime North, you can find the Author in the Art Gallery, making sure everyone is well behaved. My badge will have my Nom du Internet (Internet handle) on it. If my schedule holds from last year, I'm there most afternoons (Friday, Saturday, and for close Sunday).
I so envy people that get national holidays off; had somebody told my younger self that being a county coroner would mean never getting a holiday off between drunken deaths, accidents, and normal deaths, I might have chosen a different line of work.
*Considers job satisfaction*. Or maybe not, despite the annoyance.
I'm desperately trying to to not make a working stiff joke. Hoooooh boy. I'm sure you've heard it already.
Working stiff, graveyard shift, dead boring, a thousand more. People can either laugh about death or cry about it. Most choose to laugh when they can.
I understand the job tends to leave one with a grave sense of humor, especially if they're on the skeleton crew.
Skull joke! Yohohohoho!
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
Be nice, or Naga, Kodachi and Ayeka will pay you a visit, and start laughing.
Then no one will be happy. Especially your neighbors.
I'll refer you to the image track of Ojou-sama to oyobi (Lit. Mistress and Bent Back, or Mistress and Servant). It's a rather infamous bit of Tenchimuyo! media that I'll let you search for because I could get in trouble for linking it here.
M. H. Fuzzball
Aperture Science-certified Horrible Person
- Location
- Sector 2814
Last I heard, Naga had already learned her lesson about that.
06 - Dread 'Naut I
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
Finally, it was the weekend.
Friday evening, Taylor'd gotten most of her things boxed up and had made doubly sure that all the stuff had been cleaned out of the various cabinets and drawers and that everything staying with the room was in as good a condition or better than when she'd moved in. Now it was a matter of waiting for her dad to show up with the new minivan so she could ride in comfort and haul her stuff back home without being exposed to the elements.
And maybe, spend some time on the Boardwalk. She had the last of her order at Parian's Doll House to pick up – some casual clothes. She wasn't going to tempt fate and hope nothing would happen while she was out enjoying herself. No, she was expecting Lung to challenge her to a fight, with Skidmark making book, the E88 handling the concessions, then Hookwolf wanting to take on the winner.
Expecting it to all go to hell meant that nothing would happen, right?
Saturday morning started off well. The minivan readily held all the things she'd had with her at the PRT's apartment block. She could easily get in and out of it, noting the slightly deeper footwells and slightly larger windshield. Her head didn't bump into the top of the car when the van rolled over some of the smaller potholes in the city streets around their house. Unlike the Docks, the area around where they lived had seen the occasional road repair crew. Danny soon backed the van into the driveway.
"Remember, please," he chided his daughter before shutting off the engine, "only a couple boxes at a time. While I realize any secret identity you have is about as thin as tissue paper, we can at least play along with the polite fiction, right?"
"Yeah, I understand," Taylor answered. She grabbed a box of stuff and tried to act like it weighed enough to cause her some minor difficulty.
"Yeah, I can see you're gonna need to practice," Danny admitted, before adding another box to what Taylor was carrying. "That looks better. I'll go get the front door unlocked, so you can see some of the changes,"
Taylor nodded, and followed her dad to the front door. The first thing she noticed was that the front steps had been replaced by something that looked remarkably like wood, except the sound of her stepping on it was very different.
"It's a very high density, high strength composite material," Danny explained. "With a core of good old fashioned stainless steel."
Taylor took a step up, and then another. The front door had been replaced with one she wouldn't ram her forehead into all the time. It appeared to resemble the old door, but it looked to be the same material as the steps out front.
"Whoever did this did a good job of making everything match," Taylor commented. "Who did the work?"
"With you becoming a cape," Danny explained as they walked through the house to the stairs, "we became eligible for some assistance from the PRT. I suspect because of who was responsible, the paperwork was expedited. The company was a subsidiary of Dracotech that specializes in Parahuman-safe features, and they did the work quickly and quietly, fabricating the material on site."
"That's kinda cool," Taylor commented. "Wow, they even did the stairs inside, too." The old stairs had creaked when Taylor had gone up and down them before, and that was at her previous size. The only sound now was the dull thud of her gunboat-sized feet.
"The door to your room was replaced," Danny added, "though it's only normal wood. The expensive part of all this is the bedframe for your bed. I was told the superalloy steel frame was about as much as the van."
"OK," Taylor answered as she set down a couple of boxes on her now queen sized bed. "You mentioned some federal assistance, but this? Where'd the money come from?"
"When Zoe found out what had happened, she went ballistic," Danny explained. "She and Anne were over here that evening, apologizing profusely," Danny set his box down on Taylor's slightly larger desk. "She offered what assistance she could. She helped pay for the van and some of the furniture. Anne made sure the replacements were close to what you already had. I'm grateful for the help.
"I also get the feeling that Alan is sleeping on the couch," he slyly confided, "or in a motel. It seems he didn't tell Zoe anything about what had happened the summer after Annette passed away."
"Which was?" Taylor asked.
"Emma was with Alan and they'd just gotten some Korean take out when some ABB initiates decided she'd do. Alan got mugged, and Emma almost got raped. A few minutes after they got jumped, when Emma decided to try and claw one of their eyes out, Shadow Stalker intervened."
"Who was Sophia," Taylor growled.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." Danny started back down the stairs, Taylor following. They remained quiet as they went back down to the van and gathered up another load.
"Zoe explained to me they're still trying to figure out all the details, and that Emma will probably need a lot of therapy, possibly for the rest of her life," Danny said as they re-entered the house.
"As for the rest, the PRT and Protectorate are talking with our lawyer, Mr. Racke. They're trying very hard to settle out of court. I'm assured that Sophia is already down in New York City, awaiting her tribunal, and I've been told it's unlikely she's coming back."
"Dad," Taylor chided, "if there's anything living in Brockton Bay should have taught you, it's not to tempt fate. Now that you've said something, I suspect Sophia will make an attempt on my life, with both the Teeth and the Slaughterhouse Nine hot on her heels, along with a visit from an Endbringer."
"You're far too cynical for your age," was Danny's answer.
"Far too big, too."
It hadn't taken long for Taylor to get her old things packed away, and her new things put where they belonged. Her drawers and closet looked positively barren, but that was because she'd outgrown everything. She'd have to order any bras she'd need, but she could probably find clothes in the couple of big and tall women's clothing stores in Brockton Bay. Hosiery shouldn't be an issue, shoes might be. Still, there were a couple of girls at school on the basketball team that were nearly her size, with larger feet.
"I never thought I'd say this, but I need to do some clothes shopping."
Danny looked at her over the remains of lunch, which had been a fair amount of leftover pizza. "Dare I ask how expensive this is going to be?"
"Socks and stuff, mainly," Taylor answered. "I have a distressing shortage of underthings in general."
"Ah, any idea of where you'd be shopping?"
"There's the last part of the order at the Doll House, then I was going to try the big and tall stores for women off the Boardwalk," Taylor replied. "Plus some shoes at Earhardt's."
Danny thought for a while. "While I'd prefer that you didn't go out alone, I've got an appointment this afternoon with Mr. Racke. I can drop you off at the Boardwalk, and meet back up with you a couple hours later?"
"Or you could use your phone and give me a call when you're done," Taylor said.
"Yeah, OK. I still don't like having a cell phone, and I need to get used to having one," Danny said. "If the meeting is going to run for more than two hours, I'll give you a call."
"And I'll try to get into way too much trouble."
"Taylor..."
"Dad, it's Brockton Bay. This is where trouble makes its home when it's not someplace else." Taylor shrugged as she got up and began putting the paper plates and pizza boxes into the trash. At the very least, she could compress them small enough that they fit easily into the trash can and didn't unfold.
Taylor had been shopping for only about half an hour before she ran into someone she knew.
"Hey, Taylor!" Vicky waved from where she floated alongside Amy.
Taylor, being polite, waved back. Vicky took this as an invitation to come closer.
"Out enjoying the day?" the blonde asked. She had a few bags she was carrying. Amy had a single bag in hand.
"Kind of," Taylor allowed. "I'm taking care of a necessary evil, replenishing my wardrobe since my sizes changed drastically."
Vicky nodded. "I'm actually playing bodyguard while Ames is out looking for some clothes." Vicky sighed. "I learned a long time ago not to force my opinions on fashion onto my sister. Humiliations galore. So I stick to just keeping an eye out for people who might cause her trouble..." Vicky's voice trailed off as she was looking at something behind Taylor. "Like the morons coming down the street."
"Oh, joy," Amy muttered darkly.
Taylor could hear people starting to get out of the open and into cover. That could only mean a few things in the madhouse of a city she lived in, and none of them good. A moment later, a couple of non-descript trucks went speeding by, nearly overloaded with shaved heads and leather wearing gang members.
"Empire reinforcements are inbound."
"Squads Able, Baker, hold where you are. Squad Charlie, sitrep."
"Hookwolf is riled up about something, decided he was going to shut down the Undersiders."
"What about surveillance targets?"
"All three are talking, and have noticed the commotion."
"Sir, Squad Delta. Skidmark is moving, heading towards Hookwolf's location."
"Command copies. Redirect Skidmark from the conflict."
"Roger Command. Redirecting now."
Commander Calvert heard the orders given by the sergeant to the rest of the squad. There was a brief sound of silenced gunfire.
"Skidmark has been redirected. He's now headed straight toward Glory Girl, Panacea, and a friend."
He did a quick simulation of what would happen if Skidmark attacked the group, or if he didn't. The results were surprising. "Squad Delta, reinforce Squad Charlie. Command out."
Vicky heard the commotion being caused by what appeared to be a bunch of Merchants causing trouble and heading their way. "Ames, I'm gonna get you outta here, Mom's orders. Taylor, I'm gonna have to come back for you."
"Don't worry about me," Taylor answered as shoppers and tourists began to react. "I'll be fine."
Vicky nodded, grabbed her sister in a bridal carry, and took off for a nearby roof.
Looking around, Taylor spotted an alleyway. Ducking into it, she made sure no one was around and triggered the change into her costume. This time there was no flash of crimson light, her costume was simply there. Even her shopping had disappeared into stuff space with her clothes. Very handy. Now prepared, she walked out of the alleyway and began sauntering towards the altercation being caused by a dozen Merchants and Skidmark.
It was at that point that Skidmark learned the problem of having stoned, juiced, tweaked or wired minions, in that someone was going to be really twitchy or on a bad trip and shoot at something they shouldn't. In this case someone started shooting at the massive figure in blood red and rust walking straight at them.
Taylor grinned. It was now a case of self defense and defense of others. She noted most of the bystanders had taken cover at a reasonably safe distance, some of the less intelligent ones standing up with cameras in hand. The smarter ones were using selfie sticks to poke their cameras out from behind cover. And the really smart ones? Those were getting well away.
She noticed the patter of flattened bullets falling to the ground around her. One of her concerns had been ricochets off in random directions. It appears that bullets came to a complete stop when they hit her forcefield.
"You should really put those down before someone gets hurt," Taylor called out to the Merchants.
"Why the fuck should we care, bitch?"
"Because if you don't I'd have to hurt you," Juggernaut answered, "and I don't want to deal with the paperwork."
"Suck it, bitch!" yelled Skidmark, and laid down one of his fields. He then threw something into it, and it headed straight at the imposing figure in red.
The street fell silent as Taylor caught the improvised projectile with a slightly echoing "thunk". Two more were shot at her, hitting her with no effect. "My turn," she growled, and started picking up speed.
When she hit the group of Merchants in the middle of the street, they scattered like a bunch of bowling pins enacting a vigorous strike. She stopped, reached down, and grabbed a dropped rifle, promptly wadding it into a lumpy sphere in front of Skidmark. "You still want to do this?"
There was silence from him, but another chunk of debris hit her in the mouth – and stuck.
Taylor bit down, pulverizing the chunk of pavement and spitting out the rest. "Really?" she said. "My turn." With that, she clapped her hands together with a little bit of force.
The shockwave produced was very directional, as if it had been formed in a pipe, and it hit Skidmark hard, propelling him into the air. In desperation, he covered himself in his own fields, probably hoping to protect himself from the impact with whatever hard and unyielding surface he landed on.
From Taylor's point of view, she winced as she broke a few windows as the overpressure wave spread out from the tube she'd apparently made from her forcefield after said wave had picked up the Merchant's leader and thrown him into the air. Just as he reached the top of his arc he started glowing, and when he hit the ground, things became really interesting as he shot off into the air in a random direction...
...Which had him headed straight for the Rig. Talk about delivery.
Friday evening, Taylor'd gotten most of her things boxed up and had made doubly sure that all the stuff had been cleaned out of the various cabinets and drawers and that everything staying with the room was in as good a condition or better than when she'd moved in. Now it was a matter of waiting for her dad to show up with the new minivan so she could ride in comfort and haul her stuff back home without being exposed to the elements.
And maybe, spend some time on the Boardwalk. She had the last of her order at Parian's Doll House to pick up – some casual clothes. She wasn't going to tempt fate and hope nothing would happen while she was out enjoying herself. No, she was expecting Lung to challenge her to a fight, with Skidmark making book, the E88 handling the concessions, then Hookwolf wanting to take on the winner.
Expecting it to all go to hell meant that nothing would happen, right?
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Saturday morning started off well. The minivan readily held all the things she'd had with her at the PRT's apartment block. She could easily get in and out of it, noting the slightly deeper footwells and slightly larger windshield. Her head didn't bump into the top of the car when the van rolled over some of the smaller potholes in the city streets around their house. Unlike the Docks, the area around where they lived had seen the occasional road repair crew. Danny soon backed the van into the driveway.
"Remember, please," he chided his daughter before shutting off the engine, "only a couple boxes at a time. While I realize any secret identity you have is about as thin as tissue paper, we can at least play along with the polite fiction, right?"
"Yeah, I understand," Taylor answered. She grabbed a box of stuff and tried to act like it weighed enough to cause her some minor difficulty.
"Yeah, I can see you're gonna need to practice," Danny admitted, before adding another box to what Taylor was carrying. "That looks better. I'll go get the front door unlocked, so you can see some of the changes,"
Taylor nodded, and followed her dad to the front door. The first thing she noticed was that the front steps had been replaced by something that looked remarkably like wood, except the sound of her stepping on it was very different.
"It's a very high density, high strength composite material," Danny explained. "With a core of good old fashioned stainless steel."
Taylor took a step up, and then another. The front door had been replaced with one she wouldn't ram her forehead into all the time. It appeared to resemble the old door, but it looked to be the same material as the steps out front.
"Whoever did this did a good job of making everything match," Taylor commented. "Who did the work?"
"With you becoming a cape," Danny explained as they walked through the house to the stairs, "we became eligible for some assistance from the PRT. I suspect because of who was responsible, the paperwork was expedited. The company was a subsidiary of Dracotech that specializes in Parahuman-safe features, and they did the work quickly and quietly, fabricating the material on site."
"That's kinda cool," Taylor commented. "Wow, they even did the stairs inside, too." The old stairs had creaked when Taylor had gone up and down them before, and that was at her previous size. The only sound now was the dull thud of her gunboat-sized feet.
"The door to your room was replaced," Danny added, "though it's only normal wood. The expensive part of all this is the bedframe for your bed. I was told the superalloy steel frame was about as much as the van."
"OK," Taylor answered as she set down a couple of boxes on her now queen sized bed. "You mentioned some federal assistance, but this? Where'd the money come from?"
"When Zoe found out what had happened, she went ballistic," Danny explained. "She and Anne were over here that evening, apologizing profusely," Danny set his box down on Taylor's slightly larger desk. "She offered what assistance she could. She helped pay for the van and some of the furniture. Anne made sure the replacements were close to what you already had. I'm grateful for the help.
"I also get the feeling that Alan is sleeping on the couch," he slyly confided, "or in a motel. It seems he didn't tell Zoe anything about what had happened the summer after Annette passed away."
"Which was?" Taylor asked.
"Emma was with Alan and they'd just gotten some Korean take out when some ABB initiates decided she'd do. Alan got mugged, and Emma almost got raped. A few minutes after they got jumped, when Emma decided to try and claw one of their eyes out, Shadow Stalker intervened."
"Who was Sophia," Taylor growled.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." Danny started back down the stairs, Taylor following. They remained quiet as they went back down to the van and gathered up another load.
"Zoe explained to me they're still trying to figure out all the details, and that Emma will probably need a lot of therapy, possibly for the rest of her life," Danny said as they re-entered the house.
"As for the rest, the PRT and Protectorate are talking with our lawyer, Mr. Racke. They're trying very hard to settle out of court. I'm assured that Sophia is already down in New York City, awaiting her tribunal, and I've been told it's unlikely she's coming back."
"Dad," Taylor chided, "if there's anything living in Brockton Bay should have taught you, it's not to tempt fate. Now that you've said something, I suspect Sophia will make an attempt on my life, with both the Teeth and the Slaughterhouse Nine hot on her heels, along with a visit from an Endbringer."
"You're far too cynical for your age," was Danny's answer.
"Far too big, too."
- - - - - - - - - - - -
It hadn't taken long for Taylor to get her old things packed away, and her new things put where they belonged. Her drawers and closet looked positively barren, but that was because she'd outgrown everything. She'd have to order any bras she'd need, but she could probably find clothes in the couple of big and tall women's clothing stores in Brockton Bay. Hosiery shouldn't be an issue, shoes might be. Still, there were a couple of girls at school on the basketball team that were nearly her size, with larger feet.
"I never thought I'd say this, but I need to do some clothes shopping."
Danny looked at her over the remains of lunch, which had been a fair amount of leftover pizza. "Dare I ask how expensive this is going to be?"
"Socks and stuff, mainly," Taylor answered. "I have a distressing shortage of underthings in general."
"Ah, any idea of where you'd be shopping?"
"There's the last part of the order at the Doll House, then I was going to try the big and tall stores for women off the Boardwalk," Taylor replied. "Plus some shoes at Earhardt's."
Danny thought for a while. "While I'd prefer that you didn't go out alone, I've got an appointment this afternoon with Mr. Racke. I can drop you off at the Boardwalk, and meet back up with you a couple hours later?"
"Or you could use your phone and give me a call when you're done," Taylor said.
"Yeah, OK. I still don't like having a cell phone, and I need to get used to having one," Danny said. "If the meeting is going to run for more than two hours, I'll give you a call."
"And I'll try to get into way too much trouble."
"Taylor..."
"Dad, it's Brockton Bay. This is where trouble makes its home when it's not someplace else." Taylor shrugged as she got up and began putting the paper plates and pizza boxes into the trash. At the very least, she could compress them small enough that they fit easily into the trash can and didn't unfold.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Taylor had been shopping for only about half an hour before she ran into someone she knew.
"Hey, Taylor!" Vicky waved from where she floated alongside Amy.
Taylor, being polite, waved back. Vicky took this as an invitation to come closer.
"Out enjoying the day?" the blonde asked. She had a few bags she was carrying. Amy had a single bag in hand.
"Kind of," Taylor allowed. "I'm taking care of a necessary evil, replenishing my wardrobe since my sizes changed drastically."
Vicky nodded. "I'm actually playing bodyguard while Ames is out looking for some clothes." Vicky sighed. "I learned a long time ago not to force my opinions on fashion onto my sister. Humiliations galore. So I stick to just keeping an eye out for people who might cause her trouble..." Vicky's voice trailed off as she was looking at something behind Taylor. "Like the morons coming down the street."
"Oh, joy," Amy muttered darkly.
Taylor could hear people starting to get out of the open and into cover. That could only mean a few things in the madhouse of a city she lived in, and none of them good. A moment later, a couple of non-descript trucks went speeding by, nearly overloaded with shaved heads and leather wearing gang members.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
"Empire reinforcements are inbound."
"Squads Able, Baker, hold where you are. Squad Charlie, sitrep."
"Hookwolf is riled up about something, decided he was going to shut down the Undersiders."
"What about surveillance targets?"
"All three are talking, and have noticed the commotion."
"Sir, Squad Delta. Skidmark is moving, heading towards Hookwolf's location."
"Command copies. Redirect Skidmark from the conflict."
"Roger Command. Redirecting now."
Commander Calvert heard the orders given by the sergeant to the rest of the squad. There was a brief sound of silenced gunfire.
"Skidmark has been redirected. He's now headed straight toward Glory Girl, Panacea, and a friend."
He did a quick simulation of what would happen if Skidmark attacked the group, or if he didn't. The results were surprising. "Squad Delta, reinforce Squad Charlie. Command out."
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Vicky heard the commotion being caused by what appeared to be a bunch of Merchants causing trouble and heading their way. "Ames, I'm gonna get you outta here, Mom's orders. Taylor, I'm gonna have to come back for you."
"Don't worry about me," Taylor answered as shoppers and tourists began to react. "I'll be fine."
Vicky nodded, grabbed her sister in a bridal carry, and took off for a nearby roof.
Looking around, Taylor spotted an alleyway. Ducking into it, she made sure no one was around and triggered the change into her costume. This time there was no flash of crimson light, her costume was simply there. Even her shopping had disappeared into stuff space with her clothes. Very handy. Now prepared, she walked out of the alleyway and began sauntering towards the altercation being caused by a dozen Merchants and Skidmark.
It was at that point that Skidmark learned the problem of having stoned, juiced, tweaked or wired minions, in that someone was going to be really twitchy or on a bad trip and shoot at something they shouldn't. In this case someone started shooting at the massive figure in blood red and rust walking straight at them.
Taylor grinned. It was now a case of self defense and defense of others. She noted most of the bystanders had taken cover at a reasonably safe distance, some of the less intelligent ones standing up with cameras in hand. The smarter ones were using selfie sticks to poke their cameras out from behind cover. And the really smart ones? Those were getting well away.
She noticed the patter of flattened bullets falling to the ground around her. One of her concerns had been ricochets off in random directions. It appears that bullets came to a complete stop when they hit her forcefield.
"You should really put those down before someone gets hurt," Taylor called out to the Merchants.
"Why the fuck should we care, bitch?"
"Because if you don't I'd have to hurt you," Juggernaut answered, "and I don't want to deal with the paperwork."
"Suck it, bitch!" yelled Skidmark, and laid down one of his fields. He then threw something into it, and it headed straight at the imposing figure in red.
The street fell silent as Taylor caught the improvised projectile with a slightly echoing "thunk". Two more were shot at her, hitting her with no effect. "My turn," she growled, and started picking up speed.
When she hit the group of Merchants in the middle of the street, they scattered like a bunch of bowling pins enacting a vigorous strike. She stopped, reached down, and grabbed a dropped rifle, promptly wadding it into a lumpy sphere in front of Skidmark. "You still want to do this?"
There was silence from him, but another chunk of debris hit her in the mouth – and stuck.
Taylor bit down, pulverizing the chunk of pavement and spitting out the rest. "Really?" she said. "My turn." With that, she clapped her hands together with a little bit of force.
The shockwave produced was very directional, as if it had been formed in a pipe, and it hit Skidmark hard, propelling him into the air. In desperation, he covered himself in his own fields, probably hoping to protect himself from the impact with whatever hard and unyielding surface he landed on.
From Taylor's point of view, she winced as she broke a few windows as the overpressure wave spread out from the tube she'd apparently made from her forcefield after said wave had picked up the Merchant's leader and thrown him into the air. Just as he reached the top of his arc he started glowing, and when he hit the ground, things became really interesting as he shot off into the air in a random direction...
...Which had him headed straight for the Rig. Talk about delivery.
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Taylor knows her tropes.
...Adaptational Heroism detected? Thomas seems to be using his power to assist in fighting parahuman crime, instead of causing it.
Hulk: "Hey, that's my move."