2.1 (Initiation)
silverpower
Communism is yuri and nothing else!
- Location
- Portland
- Pronouns
- She/Her
February 22, 2011
Brockton Bay, MA
7:42am
I hop off the 364, and start walking towards Arcadia's main building. My first day here, and I was early. Too early, if you asked me. Going to school "away from keyboard", as Diana loved to put it, was such a mistake.
I groaned, feeling the lack of sleep. I'd just had my first cape fight - broken one up, really - and then I spent an hour with Kat explaining to Madison the whole mess she'd been dumped into, living in Brockton Bay with powers. Plus a mini-lecture about the so-called 'unwritten rules' while driving Madison home, since Kat and I had forgotten to talk about it with her. Then I was stuck calming down her parents, eventually giving them the name of a tailor who could sort her out costume-wise. Finally I drove home, turned off the downstairs TV, put a blanket over my Dad and went to bed… at 1am.
I woke up early, belatedly remembering that I had to find the transfer paperwork. I ended up having to skip my session in the basement. There was a punching bag with Krieg's face taped on it, and he was due for a couple hundred punches and kicks. Overdue, now, because instead I had to grab my backpack, throw my hoodie over my jacket, lace my boots and run all-out to the nearest bus. I'd have driven myself, but technically I wasn't supposed to drive alone past 11pm or before 7am. The MIRIS paperwork to get that taken care of needed to be filed today, but at least I'd thought to stuff it into my backpack.
Naturally I'm not paying attention as I try to finish this energy drink, because clearly my life is a succession of bad decisions. That's why I'm surprised when another girl stumbles into me, and we fall off the walkway onto the snow-covered grass just outside the main gate of the school in a tangle of limbs and spilled Jolt and snow.
I look at the girl… oh! I forgot she goes to Arcadia. "Hi, Diana."
She smirks, and gets up. "Hi, yourself." She reaches out a hand, and I take it, planting my boots firmly and pulling myself up.
After adjusting my backpack and dusting off my hoodie, I realize that I have no idea where anything is. "Um… where's the office? I need to get the transfer stuff done."
"Oh! I'll show you." She takes my hand, still doing that half-smile, half-smirk thing that gets me every time. "Come on!"
After only a couple minutes of Diana leading me by the hand, we arrive. I'm seriously impressed with this place - they actually maintain the building, for one. There's no gang signs, no scorch marks. No cracked paint or water damage. It doesn't even stink of stale mold and vomit. More than a few of the students are new arrivals from Winslow, it's true, but the aura of despair that clung to Winslow isn't here.
Are there bullies here? I don't know. Diana says yes, but they tend to be slapped down more often.
Diana talks to the secretary, and the secretary addresses me. "Taylor Hebert?"
"That's me."
"Do you have your transfer paperwork?"
I nod and pull them out of my backpack, making sure to separate them from the MIRIS papers. That would be an embarrassing mix-up, outing myself to the school before I've even made a public debut.
She spends a few minutes looking over them, while Diana and I chit-chat. Before I know it, she takes off, mentioning something about taking care of something for the anime club. I guess it's not code for "ABB hangout" here. The secretary nods to herself, then picks up the phone.
"Taylor Hebert's here to see you, sir."
A pause.
"I understand. I'll send her in." She motions at the door as she hangs up, passing me some forms.
I walk in, clutching the forms. They look like a course schedule and some other papers, I think.
"Hello, Taylor. Please, sit." The principal gestured at a chair.
I sit down, passing him the papers. He looked through the small stack, pulling out a form - oh, the district transfer sheets I'd filled out - and handed the rest to me.
Before I can say anything, he speaks. "Taylor… you should know that we're aware of your disciplinary record. Normally, we wouldn't even consider a student with this many incidents, but apparently there are some mitigating factors, which we did consider when approving you."
Oh. The whole "get in a fistfight with a track star and two Empire brats" thing. That's the one that sticks out in my mind, since it was the one that made the bullying stop. It felt like every other day I was getting physical, or at very least extremely rude, with other students. Mostly Empire, but also the fucking jock brats who ran what the Empire and the ABB didn't in the school hierarchy.
I nodded. "It was that or be bullied all the time."
"I understand. And more than a few students spoke highly of you."
It's nice to be appreciated, I guess. I smile a bit at that. "Yes."
"With that said, I don't want to see you in my office quite as often as… as Blackwell did. Let the teachers handle it. We have a zero-tolerance policy on bullying."
Winslow claimed to have that, too. "As long as the teachers actually handle things, I won't get involved."
"They will. Give them a chance, please."
"Okay. I'll try."
"Good." He smiles at this. I kinda like him - he seems to have an actual spine, for one, unlike Blackwell. "You're dismissed, Ms. Hebert."
I nod and get up. He hands back my class schedule, and I walk out of the room. Homeroom and first class is in… ten minutes. Room 204, English with Mrs. Fallon.
I haven't found my locker yet. I'll figure that shit out later. In the meantime, I pull out the map and start walking. After a flight of stairs and a little looking around, I have it.
I take a breath, and walk inside. This is going to be awkward. The teacher immediately notices me.
"Hello. Are you the transfer student?"
I nod. "I'm Taylor. Uh, Taylor Hebert." I pass her my class schedule. Please don't make this awkward, please don't make this awkward…
She looks it over briefly, then passes it back. "Okay, then." She points out a seat. "I'll get your textbook and syllabus."
I nod quickly and take my seat. I don't really know anybody here, so this class feels really awkward. I get my textbook and syllabus, and look over it. Honestly, it seems like it's the same things we were doing in the online courses, which was really easy. The bell rings after a few minutes, and class starts. The teacher introduces me, and I shyly wave at the class. This is nothing like Winslow - I don't have to be hardcore and pretend I don't give a shit about anything around me. So, I pull out a notebook and pen, relax, and let talk of Chaucer float into my head.
Another bell, another glance at the schedule and the map, another few minutes of trying to find my next class. That class was World History. I was looking forward to seeing how a competent teacher taught the subject after the mess Mr. Gladly so often made of it back at Winslow. As I walk into the classroom though, I feel a familiar sinking feeling in my stomach. Some rich jock was standing over a pretty girl with shortish bottle-green hair, still wearing her scarf. The way she hunched in her chair told me she didn't want any of what he was selling. So much for the teachers doing their jobs, then. I walk up to the girl.
"Hi, I just transferred in. This is World History, right?" The girl and the jock both turn to look at me, her with some relief, him with... confusion? I guess he didn't like me interrupting his "flirting", despite the fact that the girl was very obviously uninterested in him.
"Uh, yeah. It is," the girl says.
"Cool. I'm Taylor, can you tell me where we're up to so far? I don't want to be too far behind."
"We had just gotten up to--" starts the jock.
I cut him off. "So what's your name anyway?"
"Stacie," she replies. "We had just gotten to the rise of parahumanity. Vikare in particular."
"Neat!" I say. "Is this seat taken?" I ask, pointing to the chair the jock was leaning on.
She smiles. "Not at all."
I sit down, pointedly leaning back until the jock removes his fingers from my chair. "Why are you wearing a scarf?"
Stacie blinks. "Oh!" She starts taking it off. "My first class is in the portables."
I nod at that. "They actually use those?"
"Yeah. They put them in after, you know, that big Noise outbreak. They needed more classrooms to take Winslow students in with. Hey, did you go there?"
"Mmhmm. Whatever your rumor mills said, they were probably exaggerating, but only a teensy bit."
She looks shocked. "Oh, damn." Something seems to click in her head. "Oh! You're Diana's big crush, aren't you?"
I blush bright red. "Oh my god. Wait, you know her? Cute girl, takes no shit, a little on the short side?" Um… "Good with computers? Plays guitar?"
She brightens. "Yeah! Oh my god!"
I can feel the jock's eyes on me. That does it - I turn around and glare at him. "Yes?"
"Uh. Hi, I'm Dean. Dean Stansfield." He has a way of saying it that sounds like I should be impressed. Stansfield, Stansfield… where have I heard that name?
Oh, right, his prick of a father.
Maxim Stansfield. CEO of an industrial concern - they had a factory out in the Docks. Back in the early 2000s the stupid motherfucker had the audacity to try using scab labor to move freight from the docks and the trainyard. He refused the standard Dockworker's Union contract and also refused to negotiate a reasonable one. The DWU picketed his factory, so he called up some security company to try and break the picket line. That security company had ties to the E88. Not that it helped them - the Empire were still reeling from the death of Allfather.
After a bloody riot, the dockworkers kicked their asses. We weren't going away and we'd fucked his schedule, so he became surprisingly eager to settle. Though needless to say, he - and the E88 - have hated us ever since.
Should I be rude to him? Not really. I mean, his daddy lost. Thinking about it, I don't really care either way. Tit for tat then. Short, to the point, feed him a conversation ender.
"Okay, whatever," I say shortly. "We're busy." Maybe that was a little rude, but really, I could've been so much worse.
Stacie giggles at this. "No offense, Dean, but I'm from a way different league than you, anyway."
Dean glares at me, then walks off to another table, shaking his head.
Stacie watches him walk off, then turns back towards me. "Thanks. He's kinda shaky with his girlfriend, so he's been hitting on cute girls to make Vicky jealous."
I blush a little. "Oh."
She shrugs, wobbling her hand a bit. "Cape groupies are weird."
Oh. That 'Vicky'. I don't know who Dean Stansfield really is - I literally met the dumbass a minute ago - but he's got a death wish if his idea of "make Glory Girl-sempai notice me again" is "flirt badly with queer girls". I've only met her once, back when I was training in the Boneyard, but Kat really doesn't like her. They certainly rant enough about the messes "Collateral Damage Barbie" makes when she intervenes. On top of that… she's just barely not a hobopuncher. Fuck that noise.
I'm about to say something, but then the teacher comes in. Mr. Phillips, apparently, now that I bother to look at the whiteboard.
"Okay, let me take attendance." He reads off a dozen or so names, then comes to mine. "Taylor… Herbert?"
"That's me. It's 'He-bert', though. No 'r'." Hopefully I'll only have to correct him once.
"Oh!" He makes a note. "Sorry about that. You're the transfer student, right?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. See me after class, then."
"Okay."
He finishes taking attendance, and launches right into lecture mode. "All right. So, last week we briefly mentioned the rise of the parahuman phenomenon. In that time, you have to understand, it was one body blow after another. Carter mishandling the Iran hostage crisis, the gas shortages in 1979 that continued through 1982, and the election of Ronald Reagan. The Soviet fears about his hardline tendencies evaporated when, on March 30th, 1981, President Reagan was assassinated with a Ruger revolver by a man who claimed Jodie Foster wanted him to do it. This left Vice President Bush in charge of what historians call "a total mess"."
"So to recap, on May 20th, 1982, Scion was first spotted by passengers on a cruise ship. They tried to communicate with him, and one passenger even touched him, curing that passenger of end-stage cancer. Scion flew off soon after, beginning the Parahuman Age. That passenger was the first superhero, Andrew Hawke, known as Vikare. Last Friday, we discussed his career, his death, and the Vikare Act. But there was, as you should all remember, a dark side to people gaining special powers."
Mr. Phillips looks around the room, making sure we're paying attention. "So. We all know who the first confirmed parahuman is, and who the first confirmed superhero is. But who was the first supervillain?"
Several of us raise our hands, including Stacie. Mr. Phillips calls on her. "Um, the Advisors were the first to declare it to the public back in '85, but I'd say the Butcher of China. She was active first."
He smiles at this. "Correct! Most assume the Advisors that rule the so-called Republic of Val Verde were the first. The historical consensus is actually that the first supervillain, who goes by One, first started her ascent in the Chinese Communist Party in early 1983. If you've never heard that term before, One is infamously nicknamed the "Butcher of China" by many of the Chinese diaspora for her actions. Her coup in 1987, ousting Deng Xiaoping and the Chinese Communist Party, resulted in the destruction of the unified Chinese state and led to the rival regional states such as the Chinese Union-Imperial and the Democratic Republic of Guangzhou…"
A couple hours later, and I'm off to lunch. I'm gradually learning my way around Arcadia - it's a lot easier to navigate than Winslow ever was. It's weird to settle back into the routine, but the online schooling they were offering as an alternative just wasn't as flexible as I'd hoped.
That, and I figured I'd like it better at Arcadia. Diana and Madison attend here, so I already have friends. Well, a friend and an acquaintance. Also, I'll probably be able to dual-enroll at Massasolt next year. Blackwell's type of malicious incompetence meant that I was never going to be eligible for that program while she was in charge of my schooling, but Arcadia probably won't screw me out of that. Probably.
It isn't long before I find the lunch room. I beeline straight for the vending machine - I nearly nodded off in third period, so clearly more caffeine is needed. A second can of Jolt isn't going to cut it, so I buy some Surge too. I open the Surge can almost absentmindedly, scanning the crowd for anyone familiar. Oh, huh - there's Stacie… and there's Diana and Madison, and a couple girls I don't recognize offhand, all at one table.
Naturally, I walk over there. As I approach, I can hear Diana and one of the girls I don't recognize offhand arguing. It sounds good-natured, though.
"…I mean, you like Candle Cove. I don't think you really get to be high and mighty about taste, Diana."
Diana wobbles her hand. "Candle Cove is weird existential horror pretending to be an early 70s puppet show. It's an icon of dark underground culture! There's a reason we covered the main theme at the last show, Stel-… oh hey, Taylor!" She looks like she wants to get up and hug me, but settles for waving me to the seat next to her, which I take gratefully.
I set my can down and lean forward, looking around. There's Stacie, who's talking to Madison and another girl. Looking at the girl who was chatting with Diana until I arrived, it's kinda obvious who she is. Stella Roth, another one of Winslow's old hellraisers. We've spent a few detentions together. She's great at punching Nazi brats, but she was always a bit weird around me, and I don't know why. Stella's wearing an Arcadia PE sweatshirt, which she's added some steel bangles to. At least… I think those are bangles?
Stella stares at me, sizing me up. I return her stare levelly - two can play that game.
Diana decides to interject before words were had between us. "So, these are my friends! Madison you've met before."
Madison waves shyly, and I nod in her general direction. "You're friends with Stella, Diana?"
Diana grins at Stella. "She's not so bad when you get to know her. I don't think you've met Reina."
I shake my head, smiling. "Nope. Hi."
Reina - the girl who'd been chatting with Stacie and Madison - looks me over and blushes, mumbling something. She's a short Japanese girl with long mostly-bleached hair and a fading tan, wearing a loud pink t-shirt under a white hoodie. A recovering Ganguro girl, then.
"I'm sorry?" I ask.
She speaks up a little louder."Mou tachi hitori?"
Oh. No wonder she's embarrassed. "Uh, yeah."
She looks a little more confident. "Stella's a little scary, but… you seem alright. Wait, you knew what I said?"
I nod at that. "I know some Japanese, but I'm really rusty. I haven't spoken it since I was ten, eleven?"
"Oh!" Reina's about to go on, but she notices Diana digging through her backpack. "What are you looking for, Diana-chan?"
"Um… no, that's the tape I was going to give her… ah, there it is!" Diana fishes out a tape and… my SDAT player!
"You got it working again?" I ask.
She nods. "I just needed to install a new set of heads, and replace one of the drive motors. The old heads were pretty trashed and the motor was binding."
I reach into my own backpack, finding the can of Jolt and my headphones easily enough. "Mind if I…?"
Diana hands it over, grinning. "No, go ahead. It's fully charged." She passes a tape to me, too. "I also got ahold of this when we were running down parts for the Stagea. It's a live tape from the DMC reunion tour a few months ago."
"Sweet." I press play, briefly, listening for the… yep, crowd noise, the opening of Satsugai. I decide to turn it off for the moment - I want to appreciate this fully, not in a crowded lunchroom, with students screaming at each other.
Wait, screaming students? I glance behind me and groan. A boy and a girl are screaming at each other - from here, I can't tell what about. Abruptly, I feel a strange absence, my Symphogear feeling a little warmer than usual. I turn back around in time to look at my friends, who are a little bit freaked out. Even Stella is white-knuckled, her spork having obviously broken in her hand.
I'm considering activating my 'gear, but before I can, the feeling goes away. Glancing back at the arguing couple, it looks like a teacher is talking to them. One of their tablemates, a girl in a trenchcoat, gets up, tells off the other girl, takes her backpack and tray, and starts walking away. I turn back to my soda. Stella goes back to eating, and if I'm not imagining things, her spork is fixed. That's weird, but I figure it's not my place to ask.
"What just happened?" I ask quietly.
"Vicky," Diana and a voice behind me say at the same time. Diana starts at that. The girl behind us walks around to Stella's side of the table and quietly asks her something.
"Suit yourself, spookybutt," Stella says, budging over a bit so the new girl can sit down.
Oh, the new girl is Amelia Pelham. That's unexpected.
The whole table sits in an awkward silence for a few minutes. I glance at Diana, wondering if this is a normal occurrence. Her half-panicked look tells me it's not. Still, why is she acting like this? It's not like the Others haven't dealt with New Wave before. The trick is to not let Glory Girl's aura catch you off-guard.
Wait... Glory Girl's aura... could that be why my Symphogear was acting strangely?
"So, your cousin finally do something stupid enough to make you leave?" Stella asks Amelia, breaking the silence before it can smother anyone to death.
"Yes and no," says Amelia, "It's... it's complicated."
"Let me guess," says Stella, "Her boyfriend was doing something very much like flirting with a girl in his World History class, only for a different girl to come along and shut him down?"
"Yeah, and he doesn't seem to understand why Vicky might not like that kind of behavior, even if--" Amelia stops talking and looks around the table, seeming to see the rest of us for the first time. "Even if he has a good reason for it. Still, it made me realize a few things about her, and about myself."
"Anything you'd like to share?"
"Not here, not now." She shakes her head. "How'd you know all that anyway?"
"Just a few minutes ago I was listening to Stacie here tell Diana how Dean Stansfield wouldn't leave her alone before one of her classes, only for Diana's... friend to come along and save her. It was very gallant of Taylor here to do that, don't you think?" Stella's smirking at me.
I cough, embarrassed. "Um. Yeah. Something about him annoyed me."
"Hard to imagine what it could possibly be. He's so straight-edged," says Diana with a wink. "I can't think of anything that would make you not like the great Dean Stansfield."
"Yeah, laugh it up," I say. "If I had known it would make Glory Girl fear-wave the entire cafeteria I--" I look at Stacie. "Frankly, I probably would've still done it. Some people need to learn to take a hint."
"Yup," says Stacie. "There are lots of people who can't see things right in front of them."
"So," says Diana, quickly. "I know how your World History class went, but tell me about the rest of your day. How many other fair maidens have you saved?"
I laugh, and spend the rest of lunch period telling my best friend about my day.
AN: 2.2 is starting to get a little traction. I've had a little time to rewatch the series I'm montaging, so I've already got two segments of that done - it's funny to watch a magical girl who only vaguely remembers watching magical girl shows, watch one herself. I need to actually rewatch up to the episode I'm including, which is frankly before things get really good.
So we're fully caught up! I'm frankly unsure I'll be able to get 2.2 done tomorrow. I know, I'm frustrated with myself too, but this is the weekend before the week before finals. It'll get done when it gets done, but don't worry, I haven't forgotten about y'all.
Oh, and the question Reina asks Taylor means "another tachi?". Tachi (and neko, the counterpart) is Japanese lesbian slang; you see it more often in more 'grounded'/'real' yuri works. Grossly oversimplified, she's asking if Taylor is butch (she is).
Brockton Bay, MA
7:42am
[Taylor]
I hop off the 364, and start walking towards Arcadia's main building. My first day here, and I was early. Too early, if you asked me. Going to school "away from keyboard", as Diana loved to put it, was such a mistake.
I groaned, feeling the lack of sleep. I'd just had my first cape fight - broken one up, really - and then I spent an hour with Kat explaining to Madison the whole mess she'd been dumped into, living in Brockton Bay with powers. Plus a mini-lecture about the so-called 'unwritten rules' while driving Madison home, since Kat and I had forgotten to talk about it with her. Then I was stuck calming down her parents, eventually giving them the name of a tailor who could sort her out costume-wise. Finally I drove home, turned off the downstairs TV, put a blanket over my Dad and went to bed… at 1am.
I woke up early, belatedly remembering that I had to find the transfer paperwork. I ended up having to skip my session in the basement. There was a punching bag with Krieg's face taped on it, and he was due for a couple hundred punches and kicks. Overdue, now, because instead I had to grab my backpack, throw my hoodie over my jacket, lace my boots and run all-out to the nearest bus. I'd have driven myself, but technically I wasn't supposed to drive alone past 11pm or before 7am. The MIRIS paperwork to get that taken care of needed to be filed today, but at least I'd thought to stuff it into my backpack.
Naturally I'm not paying attention as I try to finish this energy drink, because clearly my life is a succession of bad decisions. That's why I'm surprised when another girl stumbles into me, and we fall off the walkway onto the snow-covered grass just outside the main gate of the school in a tangle of limbs and spilled Jolt and snow.
I look at the girl… oh! I forgot she goes to Arcadia. "Hi, Diana."
She smirks, and gets up. "Hi, yourself." She reaches out a hand, and I take it, planting my boots firmly and pulling myself up.
After adjusting my backpack and dusting off my hoodie, I realize that I have no idea where anything is. "Um… where's the office? I need to get the transfer stuff done."
"Oh! I'll show you." She takes my hand, still doing that half-smile, half-smirk thing that gets me every time. "Come on!"
After only a couple minutes of Diana leading me by the hand, we arrive. I'm seriously impressed with this place - they actually maintain the building, for one. There's no gang signs, no scorch marks. No cracked paint or water damage. It doesn't even stink of stale mold and vomit. More than a few of the students are new arrivals from Winslow, it's true, but the aura of despair that clung to Winslow isn't here.
Are there bullies here? I don't know. Diana says yes, but they tend to be slapped down more often.
Diana talks to the secretary, and the secretary addresses me. "Taylor Hebert?"
"That's me."
"Do you have your transfer paperwork?"
I nod and pull them out of my backpack, making sure to separate them from the MIRIS papers. That would be an embarrassing mix-up, outing myself to the school before I've even made a public debut.
She spends a few minutes looking over them, while Diana and I chit-chat. Before I know it, she takes off, mentioning something about taking care of something for the anime club. I guess it's not code for "ABB hangout" here. The secretary nods to herself, then picks up the phone.
"Taylor Hebert's here to see you, sir."
A pause.
"I understand. I'll send her in." She motions at the door as she hangs up, passing me some forms.
I walk in, clutching the forms. They look like a course schedule and some other papers, I think.
"Hello, Taylor. Please, sit." The principal gestured at a chair.
I sit down, passing him the papers. He looked through the small stack, pulling out a form - oh, the district transfer sheets I'd filled out - and handed the rest to me.
Before I can say anything, he speaks. "Taylor… you should know that we're aware of your disciplinary record. Normally, we wouldn't even consider a student with this many incidents, but apparently there are some mitigating factors, which we did consider when approving you."
Oh. The whole "get in a fistfight with a track star and two Empire brats" thing. That's the one that sticks out in my mind, since it was the one that made the bullying stop. It felt like every other day I was getting physical, or at very least extremely rude, with other students. Mostly Empire, but also the fucking jock brats who ran what the Empire and the ABB didn't in the school hierarchy.
I nodded. "It was that or be bullied all the time."
"I understand. And more than a few students spoke highly of you."
It's nice to be appreciated, I guess. I smile a bit at that. "Yes."
"With that said, I don't want to see you in my office quite as often as… as Blackwell did. Let the teachers handle it. We have a zero-tolerance policy on bullying."
Winslow claimed to have that, too. "As long as the teachers actually handle things, I won't get involved."
"They will. Give them a chance, please."
"Okay. I'll try."
"Good." He smiles at this. I kinda like him - he seems to have an actual spine, for one, unlike Blackwell. "You're dismissed, Ms. Hebert."
I nod and get up. He hands back my class schedule, and I walk out of the room. Homeroom and first class is in… ten minutes. Room 204, English with Mrs. Fallon.
I haven't found my locker yet. I'll figure that shit out later. In the meantime, I pull out the map and start walking. After a flight of stairs and a little looking around, I have it.
I take a breath, and walk inside. This is going to be awkward. The teacher immediately notices me.
"Hello. Are you the transfer student?"
I nod. "I'm Taylor. Uh, Taylor Hebert." I pass her my class schedule. Please don't make this awkward, please don't make this awkward…
She looks it over briefly, then passes it back. "Okay, then." She points out a seat. "I'll get your textbook and syllabus."
I nod quickly and take my seat. I don't really know anybody here, so this class feels really awkward. I get my textbook and syllabus, and look over it. Honestly, it seems like it's the same things we were doing in the online courses, which was really easy. The bell rings after a few minutes, and class starts. The teacher introduces me, and I shyly wave at the class. This is nothing like Winslow - I don't have to be hardcore and pretend I don't give a shit about anything around me. So, I pull out a notebook and pen, relax, and let talk of Chaucer float into my head.
Another bell, another glance at the schedule and the map, another few minutes of trying to find my next class. That class was World History. I was looking forward to seeing how a competent teacher taught the subject after the mess Mr. Gladly so often made of it back at Winslow. As I walk into the classroom though, I feel a familiar sinking feeling in my stomach. Some rich jock was standing over a pretty girl with shortish bottle-green hair, still wearing her scarf. The way she hunched in her chair told me she didn't want any of what he was selling. So much for the teachers doing their jobs, then. I walk up to the girl.
"Hi, I just transferred in. This is World History, right?" The girl and the jock both turn to look at me, her with some relief, him with... confusion? I guess he didn't like me interrupting his "flirting", despite the fact that the girl was very obviously uninterested in him.
"Uh, yeah. It is," the girl says.
"Cool. I'm Taylor, can you tell me where we're up to so far? I don't want to be too far behind."
"We had just gotten up to--" starts the jock.
I cut him off. "So what's your name anyway?"
"Stacie," she replies. "We had just gotten to the rise of parahumanity. Vikare in particular."
"Neat!" I say. "Is this seat taken?" I ask, pointing to the chair the jock was leaning on.
She smiles. "Not at all."
I sit down, pointedly leaning back until the jock removes his fingers from my chair. "Why are you wearing a scarf?"
Stacie blinks. "Oh!" She starts taking it off. "My first class is in the portables."
I nod at that. "They actually use those?"
"Yeah. They put them in after, you know, that big Noise outbreak. They needed more classrooms to take Winslow students in with. Hey, did you go there?"
"Mmhmm. Whatever your rumor mills said, they were probably exaggerating, but only a teensy bit."
She looks shocked. "Oh, damn." Something seems to click in her head. "Oh! You're Diana's big crush, aren't you?"
I blush bright red. "Oh my god. Wait, you know her? Cute girl, takes no shit, a little on the short side?" Um… "Good with computers? Plays guitar?"
She brightens. "Yeah! Oh my god!"
I can feel the jock's eyes on me. That does it - I turn around and glare at him. "Yes?"
"Uh. Hi, I'm Dean. Dean Stansfield." He has a way of saying it that sounds like I should be impressed. Stansfield, Stansfield… where have I heard that name?
Oh, right, his prick of a father.
Maxim Stansfield. CEO of an industrial concern - they had a factory out in the Docks. Back in the early 2000s the stupid motherfucker had the audacity to try using scab labor to move freight from the docks and the trainyard. He refused the standard Dockworker's Union contract and also refused to negotiate a reasonable one. The DWU picketed his factory, so he called up some security company to try and break the picket line. That security company had ties to the E88. Not that it helped them - the Empire were still reeling from the death of Allfather.
After a bloody riot, the dockworkers kicked their asses. We weren't going away and we'd fucked his schedule, so he became surprisingly eager to settle. Though needless to say, he - and the E88 - have hated us ever since.
Should I be rude to him? Not really. I mean, his daddy lost. Thinking about it, I don't really care either way. Tit for tat then. Short, to the point, feed him a conversation ender.
"Okay, whatever," I say shortly. "We're busy." Maybe that was a little rude, but really, I could've been so much worse.
Stacie giggles at this. "No offense, Dean, but I'm from a way different league than you, anyway."
Dean glares at me, then walks off to another table, shaking his head.
Stacie watches him walk off, then turns back towards me. "Thanks. He's kinda shaky with his girlfriend, so he's been hitting on cute girls to make Vicky jealous."
I blush a little. "Oh."
She shrugs, wobbling her hand a bit. "Cape groupies are weird."
Oh. That 'Vicky'. I don't know who Dean Stansfield really is - I literally met the dumbass a minute ago - but he's got a death wish if his idea of "make Glory Girl-sempai notice me again" is "flirt badly with queer girls". I've only met her once, back when I was training in the Boneyard, but Kat really doesn't like her. They certainly rant enough about the messes "Collateral Damage Barbie" makes when she intervenes. On top of that… she's just barely not a hobopuncher. Fuck that noise.
I'm about to say something, but then the teacher comes in. Mr. Phillips, apparently, now that I bother to look at the whiteboard.
"Okay, let me take attendance." He reads off a dozen or so names, then comes to mine. "Taylor… Herbert?"
"That's me. It's 'He-bert', though. No 'r'." Hopefully I'll only have to correct him once.
"Oh!" He makes a note. "Sorry about that. You're the transfer student, right?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. See me after class, then."
"Okay."
He finishes taking attendance, and launches right into lecture mode. "All right. So, last week we briefly mentioned the rise of the parahuman phenomenon. In that time, you have to understand, it was one body blow after another. Carter mishandling the Iran hostage crisis, the gas shortages in 1979 that continued through 1982, and the election of Ronald Reagan. The Soviet fears about his hardline tendencies evaporated when, on March 30th, 1981, President Reagan was assassinated with a Ruger revolver by a man who claimed Jodie Foster wanted him to do it. This left Vice President Bush in charge of what historians call "a total mess"."
"So to recap, on May 20th, 1982, Scion was first spotted by passengers on a cruise ship. They tried to communicate with him, and one passenger even touched him, curing that passenger of end-stage cancer. Scion flew off soon after, beginning the Parahuman Age. That passenger was the first superhero, Andrew Hawke, known as Vikare. Last Friday, we discussed his career, his death, and the Vikare Act. But there was, as you should all remember, a dark side to people gaining special powers."
Mr. Phillips looks around the room, making sure we're paying attention. "So. We all know who the first confirmed parahuman is, and who the first confirmed superhero is. But who was the first supervillain?"
Several of us raise our hands, including Stacie. Mr. Phillips calls on her. "Um, the Advisors were the first to declare it to the public back in '85, but I'd say the Butcher of China. She was active first."
He smiles at this. "Correct! Most assume the Advisors that rule the so-called Republic of Val Verde were the first. The historical consensus is actually that the first supervillain, who goes by One, first started her ascent in the Chinese Communist Party in early 1983. If you've never heard that term before, One is infamously nicknamed the "Butcher of China" by many of the Chinese diaspora for her actions. Her coup in 1987, ousting Deng Xiaoping and the Chinese Communist Party, resulted in the destruction of the unified Chinese state and led to the rival regional states such as the Chinese Union-Imperial and the Democratic Republic of Guangzhou…"
A couple hours later, and I'm off to lunch. I'm gradually learning my way around Arcadia - it's a lot easier to navigate than Winslow ever was. It's weird to settle back into the routine, but the online schooling they were offering as an alternative just wasn't as flexible as I'd hoped.
That, and I figured I'd like it better at Arcadia. Diana and Madison attend here, so I already have friends. Well, a friend and an acquaintance. Also, I'll probably be able to dual-enroll at Massasolt next year. Blackwell's type of malicious incompetence meant that I was never going to be eligible for that program while she was in charge of my schooling, but Arcadia probably won't screw me out of that. Probably.
It isn't long before I find the lunch room. I beeline straight for the vending machine - I nearly nodded off in third period, so clearly more caffeine is needed. A second can of Jolt isn't going to cut it, so I buy some Surge too. I open the Surge can almost absentmindedly, scanning the crowd for anyone familiar. Oh, huh - there's Stacie… and there's Diana and Madison, and a couple girls I don't recognize offhand, all at one table.
Naturally, I walk over there. As I approach, I can hear Diana and one of the girls I don't recognize offhand arguing. It sounds good-natured, though.
"…I mean, you like Candle Cove. I don't think you really get to be high and mighty about taste, Diana."
Diana wobbles her hand. "Candle Cove is weird existential horror pretending to be an early 70s puppet show. It's an icon of dark underground culture! There's a reason we covered the main theme at the last show, Stel-… oh hey, Taylor!" She looks like she wants to get up and hug me, but settles for waving me to the seat next to her, which I take gratefully.
I set my can down and lean forward, looking around. There's Stacie, who's talking to Madison and another girl. Looking at the girl who was chatting with Diana until I arrived, it's kinda obvious who she is. Stella Roth, another one of Winslow's old hellraisers. We've spent a few detentions together. She's great at punching Nazi brats, but she was always a bit weird around me, and I don't know why. Stella's wearing an Arcadia PE sweatshirt, which she's added some steel bangles to. At least… I think those are bangles?
Stella stares at me, sizing me up. I return her stare levelly - two can play that game.
Diana decides to interject before words were had between us. "So, these are my friends! Madison you've met before."
Madison waves shyly, and I nod in her general direction. "You're friends with Stella, Diana?"
Diana grins at Stella. "She's not so bad when you get to know her. I don't think you've met Reina."
I shake my head, smiling. "Nope. Hi."
Reina - the girl who'd been chatting with Stacie and Madison - looks me over and blushes, mumbling something. She's a short Japanese girl with long mostly-bleached hair and a fading tan, wearing a loud pink t-shirt under a white hoodie. A recovering Ganguro girl, then.
"I'm sorry?" I ask.
She speaks up a little louder."Mou tachi hitori?"
Oh. No wonder she's embarrassed. "Uh, yeah."
She looks a little more confident. "Stella's a little scary, but… you seem alright. Wait, you knew what I said?"
I nod at that. "I know some Japanese, but I'm really rusty. I haven't spoken it since I was ten, eleven?"
"Oh!" Reina's about to go on, but she notices Diana digging through her backpack. "What are you looking for, Diana-chan?"
"Um… no, that's the tape I was going to give her… ah, there it is!" Diana fishes out a tape and… my SDAT player!
"You got it working again?" I ask.
She nods. "I just needed to install a new set of heads, and replace one of the drive motors. The old heads were pretty trashed and the motor was binding."
I reach into my own backpack, finding the can of Jolt and my headphones easily enough. "Mind if I…?"
Diana hands it over, grinning. "No, go ahead. It's fully charged." She passes a tape to me, too. "I also got ahold of this when we were running down parts for the Stagea. It's a live tape from the DMC reunion tour a few months ago."
"Sweet." I press play, briefly, listening for the… yep, crowd noise, the opening of Satsugai. I decide to turn it off for the moment - I want to appreciate this fully, not in a crowded lunchroom, with students screaming at each other.
Wait, screaming students? I glance behind me and groan. A boy and a girl are screaming at each other - from here, I can't tell what about. Abruptly, I feel a strange absence, my Symphogear feeling a little warmer than usual. I turn back around in time to look at my friends, who are a little bit freaked out. Even Stella is white-knuckled, her spork having obviously broken in her hand.
I'm considering activating my 'gear, but before I can, the feeling goes away. Glancing back at the arguing couple, it looks like a teacher is talking to them. One of their tablemates, a girl in a trenchcoat, gets up, tells off the other girl, takes her backpack and tray, and starts walking away. I turn back to my soda. Stella goes back to eating, and if I'm not imagining things, her spork is fixed. That's weird, but I figure it's not my place to ask.
"What just happened?" I ask quietly.
"Vicky," Diana and a voice behind me say at the same time. Diana starts at that. The girl behind us walks around to Stella's side of the table and quietly asks her something.
"Suit yourself, spookybutt," Stella says, budging over a bit so the new girl can sit down.
Oh, the new girl is Amelia Pelham. That's unexpected.
The whole table sits in an awkward silence for a few minutes. I glance at Diana, wondering if this is a normal occurrence. Her half-panicked look tells me it's not. Still, why is she acting like this? It's not like the Others haven't dealt with New Wave before. The trick is to not let Glory Girl's aura catch you off-guard.
Wait... Glory Girl's aura... could that be why my Symphogear was acting strangely?
"So, your cousin finally do something stupid enough to make you leave?" Stella asks Amelia, breaking the silence before it can smother anyone to death.
"Yes and no," says Amelia, "It's... it's complicated."
"Let me guess," says Stella, "Her boyfriend was doing something very much like flirting with a girl in his World History class, only for a different girl to come along and shut him down?"
"Yeah, and he doesn't seem to understand why Vicky might not like that kind of behavior, even if--" Amelia stops talking and looks around the table, seeming to see the rest of us for the first time. "Even if he has a good reason for it. Still, it made me realize a few things about her, and about myself."
"Anything you'd like to share?"
"Not here, not now." She shakes her head. "How'd you know all that anyway?"
"Just a few minutes ago I was listening to Stacie here tell Diana how Dean Stansfield wouldn't leave her alone before one of her classes, only for Diana's... friend to come along and save her. It was very gallant of Taylor here to do that, don't you think?" Stella's smirking at me.
I cough, embarrassed. "Um. Yeah. Something about him annoyed me."
"Hard to imagine what it could possibly be. He's so straight-edged," says Diana with a wink. "I can't think of anything that would make you not like the great Dean Stansfield."
"Yeah, laugh it up," I say. "If I had known it would make Glory Girl fear-wave the entire cafeteria I--" I look at Stacie. "Frankly, I probably would've still done it. Some people need to learn to take a hint."
"Yup," says Stacie. "There are lots of people who can't see things right in front of them."
"So," says Diana, quickly. "I know how your World History class went, but tell me about the rest of your day. How many other fair maidens have you saved?"
I laugh, and spend the rest of lunch period telling my best friend about my day.
AN: 2.2 is starting to get a little traction. I've had a little time to rewatch the series I'm montaging, so I've already got two segments of that done - it's funny to watch a magical girl who only vaguely remembers watching magical girl shows, watch one herself. I need to actually rewatch up to the episode I'm including, which is frankly before things get really good.
So we're fully caught up! I'm frankly unsure I'll be able to get 2.2 done tomorrow. I know, I'm frustrated with myself too, but this is the weekend before the week before finals. It'll get done when it gets done, but don't worry, I haven't forgotten about y'all.
Oh, and the question Reina asks Taylor means "another tachi?". Tachi (and neko, the counterpart) is Japanese lesbian slang; you see it more often in more 'grounded'/'real' yuri works. Grossly oversimplified, she's asking if Taylor is butch (she is).
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