Sauron couldn't win in direct conflict with the Númenóreans, either, and surrendered to them. It turned out kind of poorly for them anyway...
A "full Sauron" Taylor would be very dangerous in ways beyond the Rings, or direct conflict.
Ring-Maker [Worm/Lord of the Rings Alt-Power] [Complete]
- Thread starter Lithos Maitreya
- Start date
- Crossover Users' Choice!
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A "full Sauron" Taylor would be very dangerous in ways beyond the Rings, or direct conflict.
- Location
- the Netherworld Dood
A confirmed master is not that dangerious if confined. They have protocol for that and while it's likely LOTR magic not shard magic it can still be countered with a gag.
The Rings are about all she has in the firepower department ( unless she goes full dark lady and swinging around a massive doom mace) and it is substantial when you trow 19 capes that are all amped up even further.
Brakes? Slam down on the gas, I say.
Incidentally, this paranoid response by PRT has likely pushed Taylor a little bit closer to creating the Master ring. At least I hope so.
There is one key difference I see between Taylor and Sauron. Sauron wants world domination, Taylor wants world peace. Saurons intent was world domination front the on set. Taylor has to be corrupted still to believe her way is the only possible way to peace. As long as Taylor maintains a respect of free will, then she won't travel the same path.
It will be interesting to see if her path is just more winding.
It will be interesting to see if her path is just more winding.
Last edited:
fabledFreeboota
Sometimes frustrated.
- Location
- England, West Midlands
Heyo. I'm fabled, frustrated on SB, and this chapter I saved you all from Danny's arm being covered in puss. Taylor, you say you aren't even done by half, but... 7+3 = 9 +1.
Umm quite specifically by that math she is exactly half way done. 10/20. = 1/2.
It would be interesting to see what happens if Taylor has a second trigger. Does she get another 20? Or do the missing prime numbers come into play, like 2, 5, 11,13.
Grounders10
Nine-Tailed Kitsune
- Location
- British Columbia, Canada, Mars
I take it you don't know Lord of the Rings?
It has been decades since I read it.
Grounders10
Nine-Tailed Kitsune
- Location
- British Columbia, Canada, Mars
There are only the 3, the 7, the 9, and the 1. The three to the Elven Lords, the 7 to the Dwarf Lords, the 9 to mortal kings, and the 1 to bind them all to serve Sauron.
That much even decades can not make me forget. Twenty rings total. So the " not even done by half". Which implies less than half the rings are made isn't actually right from a purely counting perspective. From a Relative total power it is still true IMHO.
I assumed there was a quote or reference that the was being referee to in that post that I was missing. If Taylor has all twenty rings already upon first trigger, I am still curious what a second trigger would grant. Especially when balanced against the power corrupts premise of the rings.
Grounders10
Nine-Tailed Kitsune
- Location
- British Columbia, Canada, Mars
I don't think she can second trigger. It's heavily implied that she's not actually a parahuman since her Pollentia appears to be dead.
Lustre 3.7
Lithos Maitreya
Character Witness
- Location
- United States
Thanks to @dwood15, @Technetium43, @fabledFreeboota, @Assembler, and @Wafflethorpe for betareading.
The PRT's holding cells weren't like the square, concrete rooms publicized on TV and in film, with a single shoddy cot and bars over the window. Well, I mean, they were, but the concrete was painted in a nice, soft blue, the cot was actually surprisingly comfortable, and there weren't any bars on the window. Partly because there was no window. Also, instead of one wall consisting entirely of bars like I'd half expected, all four walls were lead-lined concrete with a heavy metal door in one.
This was a cell meant to contain a brute or striker. It still wouldn't have held Lung, I expected, but Glory Girl or Aegis would have probably been stuck.
I lay back on the cot, staring up at the flat ceiling, my fingers drumming an idle rhythm on my pant leg. I didn't have my armor or my weapons, but Vilya was still on my finger, and I'd been given a plain domino mask to protect my identity from any personnel without clearance to know it. The cheap plastic was uncomfortable, digging into the contours of my face while still seeming on the verge of falling off.
I didn't know how long I'd been here. Probably not long, although it felt like hours. There was nothing to do, and I'd already counted the cracks in the ceiling and walls. (There weren't any—cracks were a structural weakness.)
"Annatar?" The voice emerged from a speaker beside the door. It was a woman's, gentle and soft, but possessed of a firm undertone.
"Yes? Who is it?" I asked.
"I'm Dragon," the voice replied. "I'm in charge of master/stranger screening."
"Don't you live in Canada somewhere?" I asked, not bothering to look over at the speaker.
"Vancouver." Dragon's voice was faintly amused. "The distance is helpful, actually, since it keeps some masters from affecting me."
"And you're going to interrogate me?"
"No," said Dragon. "We're currently setting up the M/S screening for your teammates. You'll only need to go through a proper M/S vetting if they come up positive."
"Meaning, if you decide I've mastered them."
"Right. Now, I'm required to ask—did you master them, knowingly?"
"No."
"Honesty may cause the PRT to be lenient," Dragon coaxed. "We have worked with known masters before."
I sat up and looked over at the small red LED in the surface of the speaker. "I did not master my fucking teammates," I bit out. "I gave them objects which will provide them a boost, at the cost that the objects themselves are, in some sense, addictive. They don't have to use them, but they are bound to them. They can't easily give them up. I can't control them through them."
Not yet.
I shoved that thought down hard. I don't want to control them! I told myself, and it was true. I really, really didn't. I'd been without friends for almost two years. Now, at last, I had them—and I couldn't seem to escape the fact that, with a mere few days' work, they could become little more than thralls.
"If you're telling the truth," Dragon replied, "then you should be out of here within the next couple of hours. The Director will certainly want to talk to you, but we won't need to have a serious M/S vetting."
"Good," I grunted, and lay back down.
"For the record, I believe you," Dragon reassured me. "It's procedure."
"Right. What else can I do for you today?"
Dragon sighed, the sound hissing slightly as it emerged from the speaker. "Do you want anything?" she asked. "A book, music?"
"Sure I won't master anyone with them?"
"Annatar, please. I—"
"I'm sorry," I interrupted, not waiting to hear her chastisement. "A book would be nice."
"Any particular requests?"
I stared up at the ceiling for a moment in thought. "The Odyssey would be nice," I decided.
"I'll have someone bring you a copy," said Dragon. "Thank you for your cooperation, Annatar."
I didn't reply.
The door opened. I glanced up.
"Annatar." What little I could see of Armsmaster's face was impassive.
"So?" I asked. "What's the verdict?"
"The Wards haven't been mastered," he said. "Come with me. We need to debrief you, and then we can put this behind us."
I stood up. "Right," I said. "Forget all about it. Sounds like a plan. Lead the way."
I followed him down the hall, up the elevator, and into Piggot's office. The other Wards were already there. Piggot was talking to them as we arrived.
"—don't care how good it sounded," she growled. "Untested tinkertech is always dangerous. You're very fortunate Annatar seems to have a grip on her powers. Oh, Annatar, you're here—thank you, Armsmaster."
I took up a position between Carlos and Sophia. "Ma'am."
Piggot sighed. "You're angry," she said.
I smiled thinly. "No," I replied. "I understand the reasoning behind what you did. My three hour time-out gave me plenty of time to think."
"Then can you tell me what you did wrong?"
"No."
Our eyes met.
"If I had approached you with my modules before I gave them to the Wards," I said quietly, "you would have insisted on testing them before allowing them to go to the Wards. Maybe you'd have listened to me, when I said they bound themselves to their bearers, and would have allowed the Wards to test them. More likely, you'd have had PRT personnel test them. Had you done that… I could not be held responsible for what might have happened to those men. And yet I would have been, and my three-hour stay in a cell would have wound up being much longer."
Piggot's eyes did not waver from mine. "I've given you a hell of a lot of slack, Annatar," she retorted. "You want to rethink that?"
I didn't answer.
"Here's what would have happened," Piggot told me. "When you told me that these modules would have ill effects when tested by someone other than their intended user, I would have believed you, because I know better than to think I'm an expert in your tinkertech. The Wards would have been allowed to test their own modules. And even if they weren't, when my own people suffered ill effects because I refused to listen to the expert on the tech, I would have blamed the person responsible—myself."
I didn't answer.
"I've been doing this for a long time, Annatar," Piggot said. "I know better than to claim to be an expert on a tinker's tech."
The silence stretched, but I didn't break it.
Piggot leaned back. "The Wards tell me you were open regarding the dangers of these modules," she said. "I believe them. That's a big point in your favor. You screwed up here, Annatar, but your mistake was in not trusting me, not in taking advantage of your teammates. That's not good, but it's better than both."
I pursed my lips but refused to reply.
Piggot considered me. "I can't exactly pull you off active duty," she said. "Not with Bakuda still on the loose. But we'll talk about your punishment once she's apprehended—and don't think I'll forget."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Good. Now, your assignments. Aegis, I don't want any Wards on their own right now, and I want any team outside of this building to have a means of escaping an engagement. That means Vista, Clockblocker, or Annatar using Water."
"Yes, Ma'am," said Carlos.
"Send a squad with Annatar to the hospital," Piggot said. "Annatar, you can help your father, and then see if you can assist the doctors with other patients."
I blinked and nodded gratefully. "Yes, Ma'am. Thank you."
She blinked at me. "I'm not going to hold your father's health hostage as a punishment," she said incredulously.
I glanced away.
She sighed. "Stay here a bit after we finish," she said. "Aegis, send one more team on a major patrol route, and keep at least two Wards here, in addition to the one on console. Understood?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Good. Annatar, stay here. Dismissed, the rest of you."
My teammates filed out. Each of them gave me a nod as they passed me, and Carlos, the last of them, patted me on the shoulder as he left.
Piggot studied me, her face expressionless. "I thought you were better than this," she said.
I think a muscle jumped in my neck.
"I really thought you were beginning to get it," she continued. "And then you go and do something like this."
"Why are we having this conversation?" I asked.
"You know why."
I pursed my lips. At length, I sighed. "I'm sorry."
She nodded. "You can't do this again, Annatar," she said. "I can't have a loose cannon like this in the Wards, even one who seems to be improving."
"Yes, Ma'am."
She studied me, then shook her head. "Just… work with me, all right?"
"Yes, Ma'am. I'll—I'll try."
"Good," she said. "Go join your teammates. Make sure you bring all three of your modules."
"I will."
"Wards?" the guy at the hospital's front desk blinked as Sophia and I came forward. "Do you need something?"
"Yes," I said. "I'm Annatar, and I'm a healer. I'm here to help."
His face lit up. "Really?" he said. "Oh, thank you! I'll just clear it with the doctors and then we'll get you right into the ICU."
"Oh," I said. "Before I help other patients, there's one I want to see first. Daniel Hebert? It's personal."
He blinked at me, then comprehension dawned. "Oh, of course. I'll find his room for you."
He bustled off, leaving us alone in the lobby save for a few people in chairs a couple dozen feet down.
I glanced at Sophia. "How's Cenya treating you?" I asked.
She glanced down at the Ring of Power on the ring finger of her left hand. "It's…" she stumbled, seemingly at a loss, her face hidden behind her mask. "I don't even know how to describe it," she murmured.
I chuckled. "Good, though?"
"Very. I feel like I could take on Lung." She glanced up at me. "Uh… could I?"
I shrugged. "Depends on if you took him by surprise," I said. "Don't get too cocky."
"I won't. I'll be careful."
The guy came back. "Room 142," he said. "His condition is stable, but… well, quite a lot of cosmetic damage."
I swallowed. "I'll see what I can do," I said.
'Quite a lot of cosmetic damage' didn't really cover it. Dad's whole body was swaddled in white bandages, some of which were damp and red with pus and blood. He didn't have too much by way of broken bones, from what I could see, but there wasn't much of his body that wasn't severely burned. Most of his hair was gone, and what was there was charred—his scalp was in a far worse state than mine.
His eyes were covered by shaded goggles, but by the steady rise and fall of his chest, he wasn't awake.
I approached his bedside. "Hey, Dad," I said gently. "I—I've come to help."
I set my hand gently on his brow. Vilya flared with light.
I wasn't Panacea. I couldn't just will his body into shape. I could only accelerate his own healing, and perhaps help in my own small way.
"Bring me a bowl of warm water and a cloth, please," I told Sophia. She nodded and crossed to the sink, rummaging in cabinets.
After a minute or so, she returned and set a plastic bowl of water on the bedside table. A washcloth was submerged within.
I removed my hand from my Dad's brow and took off my gauntlets, slipping Vilya off the mithril armor and onto my uncovered finger. Reaching into the bowl, I took up the washcloth and pulled it out of the pleasantly warm bath, squeezing and twisting it to remove the excess.
I brought the cloth to my father's forehead and began dabbing at him with it, all the while allowing Vilya to do its work. As I did, I sang under my breath.
The washcloth steamed slightly in my hand as I drew out the hurt and the damage. Slowly I ran it along his face, and where it passed the bandages peeled away of their own accord to reveal smooth, unblemished skin. Not every part of his face took only a single pass—some parts I had to pass over more than once to clear away the blisters and burns.
The shadows lengthened slowly as I worked, the sun sinking lower in the room's single westward window. I spent almost an hour there, carefully clearing my father's face of damage. Sophia sat down in a chair by his bedside soon after I began and simply watched me work in silence.
Once Dad's face was clear, I dipped the cloth back into the water, wrung it out again, and passed it over his eyes.
They opened, and were clear.
"Taylor?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.
"Hush," I murmured, bringing the cloth down to his chest. "I'm here. It's okay, Dad. It'll all be okay."
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-x-x-x-
The PRT's holding cells weren't like the square, concrete rooms publicized on TV and in film, with a single shoddy cot and bars over the window. Well, I mean, they were, but the concrete was painted in a nice, soft blue, the cot was actually surprisingly comfortable, and there weren't any bars on the window. Partly because there was no window. Also, instead of one wall consisting entirely of bars like I'd half expected, all four walls were lead-lined concrete with a heavy metal door in one.
This was a cell meant to contain a brute or striker. It still wouldn't have held Lung, I expected, but Glory Girl or Aegis would have probably been stuck.
I lay back on the cot, staring up at the flat ceiling, my fingers drumming an idle rhythm on my pant leg. I didn't have my armor or my weapons, but Vilya was still on my finger, and I'd been given a plain domino mask to protect my identity from any personnel without clearance to know it. The cheap plastic was uncomfortable, digging into the contours of my face while still seeming on the verge of falling off.
I didn't know how long I'd been here. Probably not long, although it felt like hours. There was nothing to do, and I'd already counted the cracks in the ceiling and walls. (There weren't any—cracks were a structural weakness.)
"Annatar?" The voice emerged from a speaker beside the door. It was a woman's, gentle and soft, but possessed of a firm undertone.
"Yes? Who is it?" I asked.
"I'm Dragon," the voice replied. "I'm in charge of master/stranger screening."
"Don't you live in Canada somewhere?" I asked, not bothering to look over at the speaker.
"Vancouver." Dragon's voice was faintly amused. "The distance is helpful, actually, since it keeps some masters from affecting me."
"And you're going to interrogate me?"
"No," said Dragon. "We're currently setting up the M/S screening for your teammates. You'll only need to go through a proper M/S vetting if they come up positive."
"Meaning, if you decide I've mastered them."
"Right. Now, I'm required to ask—did you master them, knowingly?"
"No."
"Honesty may cause the PRT to be lenient," Dragon coaxed. "We have worked with known masters before."
I sat up and looked over at the small red LED in the surface of the speaker. "I did not master my fucking teammates," I bit out. "I gave them objects which will provide them a boost, at the cost that the objects themselves are, in some sense, addictive. They don't have to use them, but they are bound to them. They can't easily give them up. I can't control them through them."
Not yet.
I shoved that thought down hard. I don't want to control them! I told myself, and it was true. I really, really didn't. I'd been without friends for almost two years. Now, at last, I had them—and I couldn't seem to escape the fact that, with a mere few days' work, they could become little more than thralls.
"If you're telling the truth," Dragon replied, "then you should be out of here within the next couple of hours. The Director will certainly want to talk to you, but we won't need to have a serious M/S vetting."
"Good," I grunted, and lay back down.
"For the record, I believe you," Dragon reassured me. "It's procedure."
"Right. What else can I do for you today?"
Dragon sighed, the sound hissing slightly as it emerged from the speaker. "Do you want anything?" she asked. "A book, music?"
"Sure I won't master anyone with them?"
"Annatar, please. I—"
"I'm sorry," I interrupted, not waiting to hear her chastisement. "A book would be nice."
"Any particular requests?"
I stared up at the ceiling for a moment in thought. "The Odyssey would be nice," I decided.
"I'll have someone bring you a copy," said Dragon. "Thank you for your cooperation, Annatar."
I didn't reply.
-x-x-x-
The door opened. I glanced up.
"Annatar." What little I could see of Armsmaster's face was impassive.
"So?" I asked. "What's the verdict?"
"The Wards haven't been mastered," he said. "Come with me. We need to debrief you, and then we can put this behind us."
I stood up. "Right," I said. "Forget all about it. Sounds like a plan. Lead the way."
I followed him down the hall, up the elevator, and into Piggot's office. The other Wards were already there. Piggot was talking to them as we arrived.
"—don't care how good it sounded," she growled. "Untested tinkertech is always dangerous. You're very fortunate Annatar seems to have a grip on her powers. Oh, Annatar, you're here—thank you, Armsmaster."
I took up a position between Carlos and Sophia. "Ma'am."
Piggot sighed. "You're angry," she said.
I smiled thinly. "No," I replied. "I understand the reasoning behind what you did. My three hour time-out gave me plenty of time to think."
"Then can you tell me what you did wrong?"
"No."
Our eyes met.
"If I had approached you with my modules before I gave them to the Wards," I said quietly, "you would have insisted on testing them before allowing them to go to the Wards. Maybe you'd have listened to me, when I said they bound themselves to their bearers, and would have allowed the Wards to test them. More likely, you'd have had PRT personnel test them. Had you done that… I could not be held responsible for what might have happened to those men. And yet I would have been, and my three-hour stay in a cell would have wound up being much longer."
Piggot's eyes did not waver from mine. "I've given you a hell of a lot of slack, Annatar," she retorted. "You want to rethink that?"
I didn't answer.
"Here's what would have happened," Piggot told me. "When you told me that these modules would have ill effects when tested by someone other than their intended user, I would have believed you, because I know better than to think I'm an expert in your tinkertech. The Wards would have been allowed to test their own modules. And even if they weren't, when my own people suffered ill effects because I refused to listen to the expert on the tech, I would have blamed the person responsible—myself."
I didn't answer.
"I've been doing this for a long time, Annatar," Piggot said. "I know better than to claim to be an expert on a tinker's tech."
The silence stretched, but I didn't break it.
Piggot leaned back. "The Wards tell me you were open regarding the dangers of these modules," she said. "I believe them. That's a big point in your favor. You screwed up here, Annatar, but your mistake was in not trusting me, not in taking advantage of your teammates. That's not good, but it's better than both."
I pursed my lips but refused to reply.
Piggot considered me. "I can't exactly pull you off active duty," she said. "Not with Bakuda still on the loose. But we'll talk about your punishment once she's apprehended—and don't think I'll forget."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Good. Now, your assignments. Aegis, I don't want any Wards on their own right now, and I want any team outside of this building to have a means of escaping an engagement. That means Vista, Clockblocker, or Annatar using Water."
"Yes, Ma'am," said Carlos.
"Send a squad with Annatar to the hospital," Piggot said. "Annatar, you can help your father, and then see if you can assist the doctors with other patients."
I blinked and nodded gratefully. "Yes, Ma'am. Thank you."
She blinked at me. "I'm not going to hold your father's health hostage as a punishment," she said incredulously.
I glanced away.
She sighed. "Stay here a bit after we finish," she said. "Aegis, send one more team on a major patrol route, and keep at least two Wards here, in addition to the one on console. Understood?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Good. Annatar, stay here. Dismissed, the rest of you."
My teammates filed out. Each of them gave me a nod as they passed me, and Carlos, the last of them, patted me on the shoulder as he left.
Piggot studied me, her face expressionless. "I thought you were better than this," she said.
I think a muscle jumped in my neck.
"I really thought you were beginning to get it," she continued. "And then you go and do something like this."
"Why are we having this conversation?" I asked.
"You know why."
I pursed my lips. At length, I sighed. "I'm sorry."
She nodded. "You can't do this again, Annatar," she said. "I can't have a loose cannon like this in the Wards, even one who seems to be improving."
"Yes, Ma'am."
She studied me, then shook her head. "Just… work with me, all right?"
"Yes, Ma'am. I'll—I'll try."
"Good," she said. "Go join your teammates. Make sure you bring all three of your modules."
"I will."
-x-x-x-
"Wards?" the guy at the hospital's front desk blinked as Sophia and I came forward. "Do you need something?"
"Yes," I said. "I'm Annatar, and I'm a healer. I'm here to help."
His face lit up. "Really?" he said. "Oh, thank you! I'll just clear it with the doctors and then we'll get you right into the ICU."
"Oh," I said. "Before I help other patients, there's one I want to see first. Daniel Hebert? It's personal."
He blinked at me, then comprehension dawned. "Oh, of course. I'll find his room for you."
He bustled off, leaving us alone in the lobby save for a few people in chairs a couple dozen feet down.
I glanced at Sophia. "How's Cenya treating you?" I asked.
She glanced down at the Ring of Power on the ring finger of her left hand. "It's…" she stumbled, seemingly at a loss, her face hidden behind her mask. "I don't even know how to describe it," she murmured.
I chuckled. "Good, though?"
"Very. I feel like I could take on Lung." She glanced up at me. "Uh… could I?"
I shrugged. "Depends on if you took him by surprise," I said. "Don't get too cocky."
"I won't. I'll be careful."
The guy came back. "Room 142," he said. "His condition is stable, but… well, quite a lot of cosmetic damage."
I swallowed. "I'll see what I can do," I said.
-x-x-x-
'Quite a lot of cosmetic damage' didn't really cover it. Dad's whole body was swaddled in white bandages, some of which were damp and red with pus and blood. He didn't have too much by way of broken bones, from what I could see, but there wasn't much of his body that wasn't severely burned. Most of his hair was gone, and what was there was charred—his scalp was in a far worse state than mine.
His eyes were covered by shaded goggles, but by the steady rise and fall of his chest, he wasn't awake.
I approached his bedside. "Hey, Dad," I said gently. "I—I've come to help."
I set my hand gently on his brow. Vilya flared with light.
I wasn't Panacea. I couldn't just will his body into shape. I could only accelerate his own healing, and perhaps help in my own small way.
"Bring me a bowl of warm water and a cloth, please," I told Sophia. She nodded and crossed to the sink, rummaging in cabinets.
After a minute or so, she returned and set a plastic bowl of water on the bedside table. A washcloth was submerged within.
I removed my hand from my Dad's brow and took off my gauntlets, slipping Vilya off the mithril armor and onto my uncovered finger. Reaching into the bowl, I took up the washcloth and pulled it out of the pleasantly warm bath, squeezing and twisting it to remove the excess.
I brought the cloth to my father's forehead and began dabbing at him with it, all the while allowing Vilya to do its work. As I did, I sang under my breath.
"Ir fuin tôl or i amrún
Ar i Anor nelêdh annûn
Tolo na Annatar, na i rhûn:
Ad i galad sílatha ed rhûn na dûn."
Ar i Anor nelêdh annûn
Tolo na Annatar, na i rhûn:
Ad i galad sílatha ed rhûn na dûn."
The washcloth steamed slightly in my hand as I drew out the hurt and the damage. Slowly I ran it along his face, and where it passed the bandages peeled away of their own accord to reveal smooth, unblemished skin. Not every part of his face took only a single pass—some parts I had to pass over more than once to clear away the blisters and burns.
The shadows lengthened slowly as I worked, the sun sinking lower in the room's single westward window. I spent almost an hour there, carefully clearing my father's face of damage. Sophia sat down in a chair by his bedside soon after I began and simply watched me work in silence.
Once Dad's face was clear, I dipped the cloth back into the water, wrung it out again, and passed it over his eyes.
They opened, and were clear.
"Taylor?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.
"Hush," I murmured, bringing the cloth down to his chest. "I'm here. It's okay, Dad. It'll all be okay."
End Arc 3: Lustre
-x-x-x-
-x-x-x-
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Last edited:
Lithos Maitreya
Character Witness
- Location
- United States
The rhyme has been added to the translation guide, and this chapter has been indexed.
fabledFreeboota
Sometimes frustrated.
- Location
- England, West Midlands
HEY! That's fabled boyo! Good chapters. Danny safe.
Lithos Maitreya
Character Witness
- Location
- United States
AAAH sorry editing
Grounders10
Nine-Tailed Kitsune
- Location
- British Columbia, Canada, Mars
A reasonable and sane Piggot... An actually reasonable and sane Piggot. As in Sane and Reasonable by the standards set by Sane and Reasonable people. The hell. That is a first in Worm Fiction. I think. no. I'm probably right on that. Also excellent chapter.
- Location
- Earth Prime
In canon, her issues with authority are mostly one of distrust that they'll have her back if she relies on them, at least initially. Armsmaster being a jerk exacerbates that twice over (literally, in two encounters) and drives her away from trusting that the PRT/Protectorate/Wards would have her back.
The truth is that the only authorities who really FAILED her were at the school. By the time the Protectorate is truly acting "stupid," as far as they know they're dealing with a dangerous, power-hungry supervillain willing and able to take over parts of the city. She's broken the law and engaged in literal terrorism (albeit for the ironic purpose of keeping genuine violence to a minimum), so they HAVE to take her in. And then Coil is pulling strings behind the scenes to corrupt their response to it to questionably legal (and definitely unethical) levels.
Finally, when she tries to turn herself in, the last authority figure to fail to live up to their duties is the iconic hero of the age. Which, for a Thinker, is really really stupid. Yes, Skitter is highly dangerous, but she's offering you more than you could have otherwise gotten because you had, until she came in, utterly failed to capture her. At that point, you treat her like you would Kaiser or another gang warlord, because she is one. Not like a teen you can bully with theatrics. It's that scene that really makes the far more humanized Alexandrias in some fanfics seem out of character, to me. A welcome change to the character, but definitely better people than the canon version.
...where was I?
Right. Anyway, all it really would have taken is: Miss Militia instead of Armsmaster being her first encounter with the Protectorate, or Armsmaster having a slightly better day and actually trying to coax in a new Ward rather than trying to bully a teenager and pass blame to her for something she had LESS reason to know than HE did. And you could have an entirely different story.
Even Armsmaster isn't as bad as he initially comes off, as we see in his interludes. (Alexandria is WORSE than we had initially thought, as seen in hers.) He really was just a couple of bad decisions on the wrong side of things in those initial encounters.
Taylor joining the Wards because Armsmaster had her back at the bank, or because Miss Militia managed to actually be a human being to her and convince her not to "go undercover" without support...totally different story. Possibly an interesting one.
- Location
- Earth Prime
Yeah, the primary failure of authority for Taylor was Blackwell and the whole school she permitted to metastasize into that cancerous malaise. Danny is, perhaps, at some fault for not pushing harder with legal action, but he was bullied and didn't know better. (Though arguably, he should have, if he's leading a union.)
Armsmaster gets a bad rap because we see him primarily through Taylor's eyes, but while yes, he did not handle his encounters with her well, he wasn't entirely unreasonable. He just was gruff and a little self-serving, which even most teenagers with healthy relationships with authority (healthy for a teen, I mean) would be able to work past rather than leaping to "hey, I should do an undercover mission with only this one guy I'm not getting along with as a point of contact with anything resembling support." It's because Taylor read Armsmaster in the worst possible light and extrapolated from him and her experience with school that the Protectorate would be entirely arrayed against her that she made the choices she did.
That isn't to say the PRT didn't screw up. They did. But that happened later. Overall, the PRT has a tendency to overreact and play oddly loose with its own rules when it comes to Taylor.
- Location
- Tromso, Norway.
He's not though, he's head of hiring.
- Location
- Earth Prime
Not sure that's any "better" wrt my comment about how he SHOULD know better.
Assembler
Rocking the life
- Location
- Earth Prime
Unless what Wildbow is saying is, "There's no way Taylor ever could learn to trust the Protectorate/Wards; she was destined to be with the Undersiders," I'm not sure I entirely buy his analysis. Yes, he's the author, so that very well could BE what he's saying, but I'm not sure he's intentionally doing so. (It's a common trait for people to build walls around all but the one path they want to have happen, and not realize that's what they're doing. It's something certain kinds of GMs do all the time to try to "stealth" railroad a plot onto players, while not being aware they're railroading.)
What I mean is that he tells us that Armsmaster gave what was probably the best possible pitch for Taylor at that time. If that's so, then he actually did not screw up, as he's often interpreted as doing. So, let's take that at face value. He still must have done something wrong at the second encounter with her, because at that second encounter, she was actually trying to set up to be able to "come in." Yes, she wanted to continue her undercover work to find out who "the boss" was. Armsmaster got confrontational over a somewhat unrelated (at that point) matter that he got in trouble over Lung nearly dying.
Now, maybe Taylor is just so damaged and screwed up that she was lying to herself about ever joining the Wards and being a hero. It's important to note that the two do seem conjoined in her mind, because she recognizes that independent heroes - particularly underaged ones - don't last.
Though if she did go "morally gray" route, or if things didn't quite go so far overboard as they did, I admit I'd be amused to see her become Clockblocker's Catwoman. They seemed to have a fair bit of chemistry the few times they interacted cooperatively.