shinkiro
absolute madmage
- Location
- Gensokyo
Meh, i prefer vodka anyway, but thats off topic.
meanwhile i can see ol Tommy going 'i know your playing me, and its working'
Taylor Has a Strange Hobby (Yandere!Taylor)
- Thread starter BlueNine
- Start date
Meh, i prefer vodka anyway, but thats off topic.
meanwhile i can see ol Tommy going 'i know your playing me, and its working'
SolipsistSerpent
Endlessly Devouring
It's the constant little details that help make this such an enjoyable read.
Aww, poor Taylor. Really makes me wonder just what she's referring to here. Is this about whatever happened with Jennifer, or something more recent, like how she's trying to handle her whole thing with Sophia?
Functionality
The Scholar
- Location
- At the Library
- Pronouns
- He
Baiting, baiting. What do you mean by that? Is it a metaphor for Taylor baiting a SNEK with social manipulation, the same way a Fisherman baits a FISHIE? Then she will entrap the SNEK and send him into PRT custody for being evil?
I don't get it. What do you mean?
No, Madison will not become as red as Magnus. She will become so red she will undergo apotheosis and become The Red Goddess! She will control all aspects of the color Red!
All Hail Madison!
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Elpis
Ostensibly Hope
- Location
- Berlin
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Madison's heart is also in peril, or at least her blood pressure is.
And here we thought the reference was so subtle...
Thanks for the Youth Guard shout-out. Elise is a cool character but she kind of got overshadowed by Calvert played by Lance Reddick and Amy taking Taylor's first time (being stepped on).
Madison WISHES she had some red on her. Get it? Uh, redhead joke. Because Emma has red hair. Ha. Jokes.
(Sufficient Velocity is more lenient about stupid dirty jokes than SB, right? Please don't infract me.)
I'm trying to find ways of describing people without rattling off lists of their physical characteristics. I'm happy you liked this one! Elise the Friendly Vampire is a fun image.
I'm thinking she's referring to her behavior in general. She pretty much gave up on the idea of having an honest relationship and was just preying on random bully girls up until this point. That's basically the opposite of how Annette told her to act.
The section that @Magery was indicating is a reference to the video game Destiny. @Elpis is a big fan of the game, and since we're pals I agreed to include some memes on his behalf.
Elpis
Ostensibly Hope
- Location
- Berlin
A dead thing revived through a dead power in the shape of the dead.
(I would do it again, damn you)
Cecylene
Eternal Idea Engine
- Location
- Massachusetts
- Pronouns
- He/They
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Chapter 9
Hello readers, and welcome once more to The Hero's Journey, AKA "Taylor tries really hard to get a girlfriend." Because let's be honest, as much as I loved her, Sophia wasn't really my girlfriend yet.
YET.
So, where were we? Right, talking to the PR folks. Officially, their overarching department within the PRT was known as Image. Public relations, public perception, and merchandising. Theoretically, I didn't need their approval to execute my plan. I only needed to convince Director Piggot and perhaps Miss Militia or Armsmaster. However, I had to keep my eye on the big picture, as Commander Calvert had advised.
The Youth Guard, for example, could potentially put pressure on the PRT to roll back any policy changes they considered "too dangerous." Similarly, the PR guys (and gals) could object to decisions that they viewed as negatively impacting the public perception of the Wards. Any aspect that affected how heroes presented themselves, including equipment, would require Image to give it at least a cursory review. If they objected too much, they might kick their complaints up the chain. Glenn Chambers, head of Image, was rumored to have strong opinions on what it meant to be "heroic."
It wasn't enough to rush changes through. I had to come up with a solution that would stick.
The Wards had our own Image sub-department on the PRT base. Others were involved in merchandising and costume design and such, but there were only three employees who actually spent every day on site to manage our PR needs.
Their office reminded me of those scenes in crime thrillers where the detective searches the killer's home and finds a room covered in newspaper clippings related to their grisly murders. Every wall was absolutely plastered with newspaper and magazine articles. Ward debuts. Op-eds and interviews with local news stations. Cape fights where a Ward was involved, for better or worse. Printouts of blog posts.
A huge whiteboard dominated the far wall, scribbled upon with planned press and community service events. My cape name was surrounded by doodles of medieval weapons and little notes about my persona. I spotted a circled note that said "Knight/princess?!"
"Oh, Taylor!" I looked away from the board. Janet waved at me from behind her laptop, the top of her horn-rimmed glasses barely visible from her slouched position. I had never seen anyone under fifty wear those before, but Janet pulled them off somehow. "Is it five already? Crap." She turned and leaned over her desk. "Jeff, do you have the revised proposal for the thing at the park?"
Jeff rubbed at his eyes. "Uh, yeah, just give me a minute to proofread it and I'll shoot it over to you."
"Take your time. I just want to get it in before end of day tomorrow." Janet nodded at me. "We're trying to set up a kind of 'Wards day in the park.' Barbecue, volleyball, that kind of thing. Real casual. The security guys are giving us push-back because of the venue. Something about access points."
There was a time when I would have dismissed the possibility of criminals attacking a state-sponsored children's barbecue event, but that was before villains ambushed me to produce livestream material. As Sophia would say, some people were just assholes.
"Sounds like fun," I said. "I'll try not to beat the general public too badly at volleyball." A real athlete would most likely beat me at their game of choice, but between my height and strength I had a considerable edge in most physical activities. I actually was sandbagging in track now.
Ted piped up from the corner. "Oh, you can beat them. In fact, please do. People love sharing clips of capes doing over the top sports stuff. Harmless displays of super-strength are good. Just don't nail any kids in the face with a ball, please."
"Is there a story behind that request?"
"All I can say is that I'd rather not have any more conversations with the legal department," Ted said, sighing.
"I'll try to keep the concussions to a minimum." I frowned. "Am I going to be in full plate the whole day?" My costume was surprisingly easy to move in, but it might get hot playing sports in the sun.
"Probably not," Janet said. "You can go with your ceremonial costume. More approachable that way." She closed her laptop. "Anyways. Let's chat. You want to talk here? Or we can go to a conference room."
"Here's fine." I rolled a chair over and Ted and Jeff scooted over to join us.
"So you mentioned something about a revamp?" Janet said, settling her laptop onto her knee.
"I guess you could call it that," I said, shrugging. "I just want to make sure that my team has the protective equipment necessary to stay safe."
Jeff snorted. "You're not getting guns."
"Of course not," I said. "That was never in question." At least not out loud.
Ted lightly kicked Jeff's chair. "Okay, okay, sorry," Jeff said, holding his hands up in surrender. "You wouldn't believe how many times people try to sneak that in as 'necessary for self-defense.' If Wards are being put in situations where they need to be packing heat to survive, then you've got way bigger problems than equipment."
"So what were you thinking, Taylor?" Janet asked, giving Jeff a warning look.
"I'm not sure, exactly," I said carefully. "That's part of why I wanted to talk. What're some of your guidelines besides 'no guns'?"
"It varies," Ted said. "There aren't a lot of hard rules. Kid Win has his laser pistols, for example. Are those 'guns'? Kind of. But they don't give off the same vibe that a 'regular' gun would. Our main concern is that we don't want people to look at you and think 'cop' or 'soldier.' You're young super-heroes, and that's how you have to come across."
"Is that why has Vista been denied basic self-defense gear? I'm not saying we should hand her a rifle, but a stun-gun or baton would go a long way."
"Eh," Jeff said, waggling his hand. "Vista is kind of a special case." I opened my mouth and Jeff quickly cut me off. "Hey, I'm not insulting her. She does an amazing job. I have no doubt that she can handle herself in a fight. But the truth is, she's small and cute. We don't want pictures of her beating on people. Or - God forbid - her getting beaten."
I took a deep breath. "I get that. And of course I don't want Vista to get hurt. She's adorable. I want to pick her up and never let her go. So I'd understand if the policy was 'don't put Vista in danger at all.' I wouldn't necessarily agree, but I'd understand." I threw my hands up. "But that's not how it is, right? She's out in the field with the rest of us, taking the same risks. We can't do this 'one foot in the pool' thing where we pretend that we can have her fight, but only a little bit." I hadn't planned to get so passionate about this discussion, but Missy had a certain "precocious little sister" quality that compelled me to leap to her defense.
"Listen, I hear you," Janet said, taking off her glasses to rub at the bridge of her nose. "It's not ideal. And I know it seems like we're just getting in the way for no reason, but I promise you that we're doing our best to make compromises." She put her glasses back on and pursed her lips in concentration. "Tell you what. If you can come up with some sort of idea that will make Vista safer without putting her 'in the fray,' so to speak, then I'd be happy to back your play." She turned to her coworkers. "You guys see any problem with that?"
Ted shook his head.
Jeff shrugged. "I'm cool with it. I'm curious what she'll come up with."
I leaned back in my chair. "Okay. I can work with that. I appreciate the, uh, compromise."
"Of course," Janet said. "And we appreciate how patient you've been. You've been doing great following the guidelines we gave you. Believe me, not everyone does." She snapped her fingers. "Right, before you go, do you have a minute to touch base on the Uber and Leet fight?"
"Uh, sure. I already filed my after action report on that, though." I folded my arms. I wasn't about to endure a lecture about being "too scary." I was defending Sophia and that was that, as far as I was concerned.
"We're not going to hassle you about it," Ted said, laughing. I gave him a flat look. "Your face," he said, covering his chuckles with the back of his hand. I rolled my eyes. "Sorry. Anyways. Social media buzz has been very positive about the dynamic between you and Shadow Stalker. That video of you picking her up is still trending."
I knew.
Be careful what you say on the Internet, kids. You never know who's watching.
"I see."
"Since you two seem to get along so well, we were thinking we might pair you up more frequently. Play up the buddy cop angle. Jeff here proposed a knight and princess type deal," he said, managing to convey a great deal of disdain with a simple gesture in Jeff's direction. "But I think we all know how ridiculous that is."
"I wasn't suggesting that we put Stalker in a princess outfit!" Jeff said. "I just thought the juxtaposition of harshness and vulnerability was what made the scenario so popular."
"The gap moe," I said, nodding absently as I imagined Sophia dressed like a princess.
"Yeah, yeah! You know what I'm talking about! People love tsunderes."
"I can understand the appeal."
"Oh God, you too?" Ted said. "Please don't get him started. And for God's sake, Jeff, don't use 'shipping' terms to describe our Wards."
"Well actually, it's not-"
"I don't care!"
Janet cleared her throat. "Back to the point," she said. "We were going to pass along a recommendation to put you two together on patrol when the schedule permits. Does that sound like a plan?"
I grinned and opened my mouth to agree, then paused. "Have you mentioned this to Stalker?"
The Image trio glanced at each other. "We figured we'd put in the request first. See if it even gets accepted," Jeff said.
I smirked. "Are you scared of her?"
Jeff chuckled unconvincingly. "Of course not. She's just a little… contrary, when it comes to PR. If she knows the request came from us, she'll probably balk."
"Maybe," I said. "But I don't feel comfortable going over her head on this." Shockingly, I was telling the truth here. I supposed I was a little guilty about all the other underhanded means I had used to get as close to Sophia as I was at this point.
Janet sighed. "Yeah, we should probably be adults about it." Ted and Jeff groaned. "Oh, shut up," Janet said. "I'll send her the email. Cowards."
I laughed. "Good luck. I can talk to her about it, if you want."
"Thank you. That'd be helpful," Janet said, giving me the weary smile of a woman with an arduous task ahead of her.
<~@~>
Sophia shifted her weight anxiously from one foot to the other as she stood on the doorstep of the Hebert home. She didn't really do these kind of family pot luck things. Her real dad's family was entirely out of the picture and her mom was barely on speaking terms with hers. The closest thing she had experienced was Christmas dinner with cousins.
Hebert and Emma had insisted that she didn't have to bring anything, but Sophia hated being dead weight. Unfortunately, her desire to contribute was complicated by her inability to make anything more complex than a ham sandwich. Thus, she ended up bringing several two liter bottles of soda. Name brand, of course. She refused to be called a cheapskate.
She knocked and waited. Hebert cracked the door. Then, as she always did whenever she caught sight of Sophia, Hebert broke out into a wide grin. Sophia still didn't understand why Hebert did that. At first, Sophia was sure it was some sort of passive aggressive act. There was no way that Hebert would be so excited to see someone who had given her all sorts of shit.
And yet, months later, Hebert still greeted her with dog-like enthusiasm. Every single time. If it were an act, then Hebert was insanely dedicated to the bit.
Sophia had friends, or at least people who were willing to put up with her, but she rarely encountered anyone who actively enjoyed her presence. She understood why, of course. She didn't put up with shit and she didn't hesitate to push people's buttons to see what they were really about. Those qualities weren't particularly helpful for "getting along well with others." But so what? If she had to kiss ass to get people to like her, she would rather be alone.
"Hi, Sophia! Glad you could make it!" Hebert said.
Sophia grunted. "Yeah, sure. Can I come in?"
"Oh, of course!" Hebert said, opening the door all the way and making a wide "be my guest" gesture.
Sophia kicked her shoes off in the entryway and swatted away Hebert's attempts to take the soda. "Cut it out. Where should I put this?"
"Kitchen, I think. This way."
Sophia followed her into the living room, where Emma and Hebert's dad were chatting on the couch. Her dad stood, proving himself to be the genetic source of Hebert's frustrating height. Seriously, the girl's long legs were just totally unfair.
"Hi, it's nice to meet you. I'm Danny Hebert. Taylor's dad." He reached out his hand.
Sophia glanced at it for a moment before shaking it. His hands were callused and rough. Blue collar guy, probably. "Hey. Sophia Hess."
"Taylor's told me a lot about you," he said, and for a brief instant there was a brief glimmer of Hebert's "I know something you don't" quality in his eyes. Maybe I'm just being paranoid.
Pragmatically, it had made sense for Sophia and Hebert to unmask to each other's parents. If Sophia needed to contact Hebert's dad in the case of a cape emergency, it was better that he know her civilian ID ahead of time. Still, it was uncomfortable to know that a virtual stranger was privy to one of her biggest secrets. They had only met once before, and Sophia had been in costume at the time. She felt exposed seeing him face to face.
Sophia shot a look over at Hebert, who predictably was smiling like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. "Good things, I hope," Sophia said.
Mr. Hebert chuckled. "Lots of good things. I haven't been able to make it to any of the track meets, but I hear you're quite the terror on the hurdles."
Sophia plastered a smile on her face. "I do my best."
"Dad, let Sophia put her down her sodas before you start talking her ear off," Hebert said.
Sophia tensed at the irreverence in her tone, but Mr. Hebert just laughed. "Right, sorry. Taylor and Madison have been working hard on dinner. I hope you're hungry."
Sophia nodded and followed Hebert to the kitchen. Madison was checking a meat thermometer with a wire leading into the oven.
"Oh, hi Sophia," Madison said, not quite making eye contact. The girl was an odd mix of meekness and determination. Sophia's first impression of her had been "weakling," but she quickly grew a spine after hanging out with Emma. She was still a bit too nice, but she refused to be pushed past a certain limit. "You wanna toss those sodas in the fridge? There should be space."
Sophia performed a little creative shuffling of food and crammed the drinks in. As she did, Madison grabbed Hebert for prep work, leaving Sophia to awkwardly stand around watching them. She opened her mouth, torn between offering to help and just getting out of the way. After a few seconds the latter option won out and she wandered back into the living room.
Emma turned to grin at her. "They kick you out of the kitchen too? Madison has been very focused today."
Sophia snorted. "It's fine. I can't cook worth a da- uh, darn, anyways," she said, catching herself as she glanced at Mr. Hebert.
He smirked. "I work for the Dockworker's Association. I don't mind a little cussing."
Well, that made for precisely one adult in her life that felt that way. She settled into a well-worn armchair in the corner.
"So, uh, thanks for having me over, Mr. Hebert." Sophia said.
"Of course," Mr. Hebert said. "And you can call me Danny, although I know how awkward that would be." He laughed. Sophia forced a laugh of her own.
Emma sighed. "Uncle Danny, the only reason it's not weird for me is because I've known you for basically my whole life. Did you ever call your friends' parents by their names?"
"Oh, Hell no," Mr. Hebert said. "My own father made me call him 'sir.' But I'd never inflict that on Taylor or her friends. I'd prefer if my child actually liked me, thank you very much."
Sophia's jaw tightened. Her mother had dated a lot of assholes, but the ones who pretended to be Sophia's "friend" had been the worst. They all wanted to control her in one way or another. If they weren't open about how, then…
Sophia folded her hands on her lap and focused on her breathing.
Madison leaned into the room. "Dinner's ready!" she yelled, waving an oven mitt over her head.
<~@~>
Sophia had to admit that Madison and Hebert had made a pretty damn good dinner. While Sophia's mother was a passable cook, she had no real flair for it. It was nice to have a home cooked meal made with some enthusiasm. The other girls carried the conversation, as usual, leaving Sophia to enjoy her food in peace. Hebert's dad was at the table, but after an uncomfortable few minutes she began to tune him out.
The meal began to wind down, and Hebert cleared her throat. Sophia looked at her and Hebert tilted her head at Madison questioningly. Sophia sighed and nodded.
This was the point of this little get-together, after all.
"Right, so… Madison, we have something to tell you," Hebert said.
Madison blinked, then nodded firmly, her face resolute. "Of course. You can tell me anything."
Hebert took a deep breath. "Sophia and I are capes. Wards, actually."
Madison froze, her eyes flicking to Sophia and back to Hebert. "Oh. How… surprising."
Sophia's eyes narrowed. "You knew."
"I suspected."
"Really?" Hebert said. "What gave us away?"
Madison bit her lower lip and fussed with her napkin. "Well, I saw that clip of Avalon picking up Shadow Stalker, and, um…"
Sophia glared at Hebert, whose face had assumed an almost maliciously innocent expression. Then Emma snorted, and she and Hebert started cracking up.
<~@~>
Hebert insisted on doing the dishes by herself and Emma and Madison were engrossed in some sort of fashion discussion, so Sophia slunk off to cool down a bit. Unfortunately, she only had a few minutes to enjoy her solitude before Hebert's dad entered the room and sat on the couch across from her.
"Great dinner, huh?" he said, smiling. "Taylor doesn't get her cooking talent from me, that's for sure."
Small talk, huh? Easy enough. "Yeah, I'm more of a 'sandwiches and cereal' kind of girl."
He laughed. "Nothing wrong with that." He paused, visibly considering his next words. "So, are you comfortable with Madison knowing about your cape identity?"
Sophia shrugged. "I'm not worried about it. I don't think she'll tell anyone, if that's what you're asking."
"Hmm. I worry about Taylor. I've read about the 'gentleman's agreement' that capes have, but… well. It's the gangs. They'll do whatever they can get away with, just like always."
Sophia snorted. "You're talking about the unwritten rules? Yeah. Villains pretend to care about that, but who's gonna come down on Lung if he decides to push the envelope? As long as he doesn't kill anyone important, it's business as usual."
Mr. Hebert sighed. "It really doesn't feel like anyone is safe these days."
"All I know is that there's a lot of work to be done. Hopefully Heb-… Taylor and I can do some damage where it matters."
Mr. Hebert shook his head. "I want to support you two, but I can't help but be concerned. It's a crazy world where we send high schoolers to fight supervillains."
"It is what it is. We watch each other's backs. And Taylor's pretty strong." And wasn't that a weird thing to say and mean?
"I'm glad to hear that. Are you two getting along alright?"
Sophia fidgeted. "Sure. No problem."
Mr. Hebert gave her a wry smile. "Really? I love my daughter, but I know that she can be difficult at times."
Sophia agreed, but hearing that come out of Hebert's father's mouth bothered her for some reason. "Difficult? Difficult how?" she asked.
Mr. Hebert scratched his balding head. "Well, she can be stubborn. She's like me that way. Like her mother too, to be honest. Once she gets something in her head, she has a hard time letting it go."
"That sounds frustrating," Sophia said, carefully casual. "How do you handle that?"
"Handle it?"
Sophia made a dismissive gesture. "Oh, well, you know. You have to lay down the law every once in a while, right?"
"I guess. But Taylor has never really given me a reason to discipline her seriously."
"Ah, come on. I don't think anyone would blame you if you lost your temper a bit. Stubborn daughter, doesn't do what you say. You just gonna let her walk all over you?" Sophia said those words lightly, but she watched him closely out of the corner of her eye.
Mr. Hebert grimaced. "Well, that's what a lot of parents think. My father was that way. If you'll excuse my language, he was a serious bastard. Angry all the time. Any time I didn't do exactly what he wanted, he'd scream and hit me and call it 'discipline.' I call it being a violent asshole who takes out his failings on a child."
Sophia gave a startled laugh despite herself. "So you're not a believer in the whole 'spare the rod' thing?"
He tapped his fingers on the armrest of his seat. "I believe that if you can't assert your authority as a parent without behaving that way, you're a weak person. It doesn't make you 'tough' to beat your child down and make them afraid of you." He winced. "I have a temper, yeah, same as my father. Sometimes I'll get upset with Taylor. Angry, even. But I would never lay a hand on her." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "And I try my best not to raise my voice. Words matter too."
Sophia looked away. "Yes, they do."
Mr. Hebert cleared his throat. "I'm not sure if I need to tell you this, but don't ever accept that kind of treatment. From your parents, coaches, whoever. There's no justification for it, so don't accept any excuses about them trying to 'toughen you up' or 'enforce discipline.' It's abuse, plain and simple."
Sophia swallowed hard. "Yeah. I know."
He gave a dry laugh. "Sorry. Got a little heavy there. Didn't mean to give you a lecture."
"You're good. I… it's good to know where you stand on that."
"Of course." He smiled. "I'm happy that you're looking after Taylor."
Sophia frowned. What did that have to do with anything? "I mean… yeah. I've got her back in the field, no problem."
He chuckled. "Right, right."
<~@~>
The summer heat grudgingly withdrew as the night progressed, allowing Emma and Madison to sit in the backyard comfortably. They situated themselves on the singular piece of yard furniture, a swinging bench seat with an awning.
"Dinner was great," Emma said. She was so close that Madison could pick out the other girl's subtle freckles by the glow of the moon.
"Taylor helped a lot," Madison said, her gaze falling to her lap.
"You did a really good job, though," Emma said, lightly bumping their shoulders together. "The dessert was amazing."
Emma never let Madison shy away from a compliment. The only way out was to accept it gracefully. "Thank you," Madison said softly.
"No, thank you." Emma said, grinning. "Although you're not doing my waistline any favors. I don't think I've ever eaten that much pie in one sitting."
They sat in silence for a while, leaving Madison's attention with nothing to focus on other than the fact that she and Emma were sitting practically hip to hip. She could feel Emma's body heat against her side. Or was she imagining it? She tried valiantly to look straight ahead and "be cool."
Nothing to be concerned about. Just sitting together. Very close to each other. Almost cuddling. Totally not a problem. No reason to be a spaz.
"So are you feeling okay about what Taylor told you?" Emma asked. Madison squeaked.
"Uh, what? What about Taylor?"
Emma laughed. "The cape stuff. We were a little worried you might be upset we were leaving you out."
Madison shook her head. "No, I get it. Being a cape is dangerous. You have to be careful who you trust."
"We trust you, Madison. It's just… complicated. Just by telling you, we've kind of put you at risk. We weren't sure what the 'right' thing to do was."
"Well… I guess that's true, but I'm still happy that you told me." Madison's back straightened. "I want to be a good friend. That means being supportive even when things are hard. So I'll do my best."
"I know you will," Emma said, smiling warmly. She reached out to brush a strand of hair off Madison's face. "You're always so thoughtful. I love that about you."
Taylor poked her head out from the house. "Emma! Your dad is here to pick you up!"
Emma nodded. "Alright. See you tomorrow," she said, patting Madison's hand. Emma stood and went in the house.
Madison sat stock still. She took a very slow breath, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her pursed lips.
Okay.
That.
Is.
ENOUGH.
<~@~><~@~><~@~>
AN: Slightly more serious chapter this go around. It fought me continuously. Thanks to @LacksCreativity for his assistance with the PR section.
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Taylor: "She noticed my LEGS! Now, where can I get some of those short-shorts on quick notice...?"
Why don't we take a deeper look at Madison's through processes here? ...oh. ...oh, my. That's... that's a LOT of cursing. Let's NOT take a deeper look at Madison's thought processes, actually!
Let's go with Emma's, instead!
Let's see.... Dad's here. Where are my shoes? Hey, Dad. Oh, no, please don't make that same dumb Dad joke. Oh, hey, it's Madison, she looks red, I wonder what's- dang she's stronger than I thought wait when did I get TWO tongues in my mouth- ...and from there it's mostly just static?
punster lv1
Killjoy - cheerful shitposter - ignorant pedant
Inside Emma's dad's head
Let's see... Coming to Danny's place to pick Emma up, done. Embarrassing her in front of her friends with a dad joke, done. Wait, that girl looks really determined, I wonder what she's up to. *Sees Madison kissing Emma* ...and his brain short-circuits too.
Functionality
The Scholar
- Location
- At the Library
- Pronouns
- He
Uhh, shit. I need to be supportive and caring!
"Remember to use protection, girls!"
Fuck! Why did I say that?
BarbatosLupus008
Certified Not Killer Giant Robot
- Location
- Behind You
And now... a moment in the head of Taylor Hebert...
"Baby Shark doo doo doo doo doo doo doo"
That was a moment in the head of Taylor Hebert.
"Baby Shark doo doo doo doo doo doo doo"
That was a moment in the head of Taylor Hebert.
Dromeosaur
Feathery Raptor of snowy planes and frozen sea
- Location
- The land of Trees and Squirrels
This fic manages a perfect mix of yandere and reality. I love it.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Nah, Madison is just tired of Emma not understanding personal space. Back off, will you?
I almost clarified it as "her long legs were unfair when it came to track" but the ambiguity was better.
I'm happy that you exist, reader!
finger guns
That is the goal. I like the wackiness and drama of yanderes, but they never really get a happy ending! Maybe it's because they're abusive and violent crazy people? Who knows? I do enjoy the ongoing debate about whether or not this Taylor constitutes a "real" yandere. It's true that she's not as violent or controlling as the "standard" of the archetype, but I wanted my MC to have an actual chance at having a relationship that isn't totally awful.
Also, @Magery I have stolen your "pure maiden" phrasing a little bit to change my blurb. APPARENTLY some people were too scared of the title, so I've tried to make a more welcoming blurb to pull readers in.
Kagemoto
I stand against the Infinite Horizon
- Location
- Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high.
Nah, Madison is just tired of Emma not understanding personal space. Back off, will you?
but im not emma
message clear tho
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Nooo it was a joke! Madison is definitely (probably) going to confess.
Kagemoto
I stand against the Infinite Horizon
- Location
- Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high.
Fingers crossed, can't wait to see how this goes then!
10
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Chapter 10
Hi, readers. Sorry that I don't have a fun introduction for you today. I was contemplating several difficult questions. Like, what kind of a date would Sophia prefer? And how could I convince her to go on said date with me?
What? These were challenging questions. I couldn't use the precedent of traditional wisdom. Traditionally, a date was a social activity used to feel out the compatibility between two prospective partners. But what was the point of that? I already knew that Sophia was perfect for me. So this wouldn't be a "normal" date. Frankly, I didn't understand this new thing that Sophia and I were building together. All I knew was that it wasn't just one of my games anymore.
The ambiguity frayed the edges of my twisted heart.
I was not a creature of doubt, yet I found myself drowning in contradictions. I wanted Sophia's love as well as her disdain, her happiness as well as her rage. These opposing priorities had led to a plateau in my progress. Sophia no longer saw me as someone who could be crushed or driven away, and I couldn't bring myself to make her hate me in earnest. A lukewarm approach brought lukewarm results.
I had to do something, make something happen. That was where the idea of a date came in. It would need to be something that clearly broke our normal pattern. Hopefully this new landscape would encourage Sophia to open up and give me insight into what she needed on a deeper level. Could we negotiate a "proper" relationship where we were both fulfilled, somehow? Part of me hoped that it would prove impossible so I could cut bait as usual.
So how to go about the date? I was stumped. I had infiltrated practically every corner of Sophia's life, so I should have known exactly where to go from here. Yet when I sifted through what I knew of her, it all seemed so superficial. Like I was merely peeking through the windows of her true self. She liked to compete, which was why she was so skilled at track and combat. But I did those things with her every day. I needed something novel, exciting.
My phone buzzed and I flipped it over. Madison.
Can we meet up? Want to talk in person.
Well that was ominous. And odd. Madison rarely texted me out of the blue. I shrugged. Whatever it was about, it might provide a welcome distraction from my brooding.
Sure. When and where?
<~@~>
Madison and I met in the morning, before school started. The parking lot was desolate except for teachers' vehicles and a handful of football players making their way over to the field. Madison gestured for me to follow her over to "The Tree," a sizable Oak that students used as a landmark and shaded hangout spot.
"So, what's up?" I asked.
Madison took a deep breath and wrung her hands, spots of red blossoming on her cheeks. "I, um… I wanted to ask you a question."
Uh-oh, this is feeling dangerously romantic. "Sure, go ahead."
Madison closed her eyes, exhaled slowly, then looked at me directly. "Are you going out with Emma?"
I nearly laughed but managed to turn it into a cough. Of course not. "You mean, like…?"
"Like romantically. Like… girlfriend and girlfriend."
I smiled. "No, we're not girlfriends." Relief flooded onto Madison's face so blatantly that I was seized by an impish impulse. "We're married," I said.
Madison's jaw dropped. That's usually an exaggerated turn of phrase, but her mouth was actually wide open here. "M-married?"
"Yup," I said, holding up my left hand. Emma and I had matching rings on our ring fingers, part of an inside joke that we were "so close we might as well be married." I scratched my chin. "Must be going on… two years now? Yeah, about that."
"Oh," she said, her shoulders drooping. Her bottom lip started to quiver. "That's… okay. I'm happy for you. I'm just gonna— " she trailed off, her eyes getting misty.
An unexpected spike of guilt crashed into my gut. I flailed my hands in panic. "Oh, hey, no! It was a joke!"
"A joke?" Madison asked in a tiny voice, sniffling.
"Yeah, a joke. A bad joke. Please don't cry." I pulled her into a hug and patted her head.
Wow. She's like the Chosen One of bullying victims, Bad Taylor said. I started bullying her before I even realized it. But I'm also enjoying this hug. Maybe we can alternate between comforting her and making her cry.
Shut up and explain yourself, idiot! Good Taylor said. Coincidentally, Good Taylor's voice sounded a lot like Emma.
Madison rubbed at her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm okay. I won't cry."
"No, I'm sorry. Emma and I aren't married, or even going out. We're just friends."
"R-really?" she asked, her big eyes full of hope.
"Really," I said, nodding. I smirked. "So you're free to ask her out."
"What?" Madison squeaked. "I don't— " she looked up and abandoned the obvious lie she was about to tell. She sighed, leaning against the tree. "I don't even know if she likes me that way."
"Hmm," I said. I was fairly certain that Emma did, in fact, like Madison that way, but I didn't know if telling Madison that was the right thing to do. Sure, I'd be "helping them along," but it might mess up their natural progression. Also, Emma would probably be quite upset if she learned I had been meddling. She was all tied up in knots about not "pushing Madison too hard." Which was understandable, since Madison was by all appearances a fragile little doll-girl, but clearly Madison didn't want that kind of consideration right now. "I'm not sure, either," I said.
Madison looked me in the eye. "She's been saying some stuff that makes me think she might be interested. Has she told you anything?"
"Not specifically, no. And I think it'd be better if you asked her directly."
Madison grabbed my wrists. I'd give it a seven point five out of ten on the "forceful grasp" scale. "You don't get it. I'm trapped in this… romantic comedy hell. She kisses my cheeks. She rubs my shoulders. She tells me how cute I am and how much she loves spending time with me. It's all just short of being romantic for sure, and I don't want to read too much into it. Does she even like girls?"
I gently extricated myself from her grip. "I'm sorry, but if you really want to know what she's thinking, then you'll have to ask her."
"Fine," she said, scowling. Her expression softened. "Sorry. I know I shouldn't be going around her back like this. I'm just so frustrated."
"I understand. Do you want me to ask her for you? Or maybe casually let her know you might be interested?"
Madison frowned. "I don't know. It'll be tough, but I feel like this is something I should do on my own."
"That's very mature. So, are you going to make the first move?"
"I… maybe? I'm not even sure what I'm feeling, to be honest. I've never liked a girl this way before. Maybe it's just a crush. Or, you know, admiration. Like, I just think she's really cool."
"She is very cool," I said, nodding. "So would you be okay with staying just friends?"
Madison visibly considered the question for a few seconds before hissing and kicking the tree. "No! Fuck! I wouldn't. But I also don't want to mess things up and make her hate me. Shit!"
Seeing her curse was way too adorable. "Even if she hypothetically turned you down, I don't think she'd hate you. Why not give it a shot and see what happens?"
Madison scoffed. "Just 'see what happens,' huh? I can't risk blowing up one of the only real friendships I've had since elementary school. I just can't."
I shrugged. "Well, if you're not willing to make the first move, you're just going to have to be patient."
Madison sighed, hanging her head. Then she froze. She glanced up at me. "Maybe not. I have an idea."
Something about Madison's tone made Bad Taylor perk up. "Oh, really?"
"You're her best friend, right? So you must know about her… preferences."
I paused, then smiled. "I might."
<~@~>
Madison was a coward. She knew that very well. Despite her earlier resolve, she was now sidling up to the problem without facing it directly. In plainer language, she had chickened out.
Originally, Madison's plan had been to tailor her image to fit Emma's preferences. The few details that Madison had managed to wheedle out of Taylor had suggested that Emma was at least capable of finding girls attractive, which was good to know. The question now was if Madison could appeal to Emma enough to make her recognize and admit any romantic feelings she might have. It was a childish plan, but it was as much as Madison was willing to risk.
And in a darker part of Madison's heart, she wanted revenge. To turn the tables in this dance of infatuation and uncertainty. To have the upper hand.
So when she explained her plan to Taylor, she expected scorn or maybe pity at best. What Madison didn't expect was for Taylor to launch into an astonishingly well-articulated lecture about what she called her "attraction philosophy." Madison was stunned. As far as she had seen, Taylor had never even flirted with anyone. Had she been concealing this passion for romance this whole time?
Unless… no, that's ridiculous.
The most impressive — and terrifying — part of her philosophy was how methodical it was. Almost scientific. She had developed a thorough and systematic framework for how one person could deliberately appeal to another while giving the appearance of acting naturally.
By itself, that sounded like something a cold-hearted sociopath would do. But far from being cold, Taylor's face was alight as she spoke, like she was so full of love for love that it was shining forth into the world. Madison couldn't help but be encouraged by that light, to dare to wish for someone to call her own.
"But remember," Taylor had said, "these are only tools. What matters is you. You have unique qualities to bring to the table. Use them."
Madison squeezed her hand into a fist.
<~@~>
Madison didn't want to push, but she knew that a purely passive strategy wouldn't be enough to break through to Emma. To begin, she doubled down on qualities that Emma had already responded positively to. It sounded manipulative, but who didn't want to make their crush happy? It wasn't as though she was pretending to be someone she wasn't. She was just being more of who she already was… in a particular direction.
First, Emma liked to help Madison with things. Madison was careful about leveraging this; she didn't want to be a mooch, and she hated the idea of playing the wounded gazelle as her bullies had accused her. And yet, Emma seemed to genuinely enjoy helping and teaching her, so where was the harm? She wasn't exploiting Emma's goodwill. She just allowed the situations to unfold and offered doe-eyed gratitude and admiration.
It was a plan that relied on Madison's cuteness. She had downplayed that part of herself for a long time, but now she could make it work to her advantage for once.
She found that she was exceptionally good at it.
<~@~>
Madison offered to make Emma lunch on a daily basis. It was a risky move, one that couldn't easily be played off as "just being friendly." Madison was clearly going out of her way for Emma every day. You wouldn't do that for someone unless you liked them a lot. But Emma had mentioned how much she liked Madison's considerate nature, so it was a clear path to take.
Sophia — being Sophia — had been compelled to comment. "Looking pretty domestic over there." She smirked. "Can I get one of those little lunches, too? Or is it just Emma who gets special treatment?"
Madison flinched, then dug deep for her backbone. Sophia didn't really want to hurt her. She just liked poking to see what people would do about it. Madison opened her mouth to retort. Wait. This could work. One of Taylor's key pieces of advice was "be both predictable and unpredictable." That was to say, one should have consistent and appealing traits, but should not be taken for granted.
"Sure, Sophia. I wouldn't want you to feel left out. What kind of foods do you like?"
Sophia blinked in surprise, and for some reason Taylor shot Madison a dirty look. What's her problem? I'm following her strategy.
"Whatever," Sophia said. "I was just fucking with you."
"Oh, I insist," Madison said, baring her teeth. "Why don't you let me make something for you and see how you like it?" Madison purposefully didn't look at Emma, whose eyes had narrowed.
Taylor cleared her throat. "She has a minor allergy to shellfish and dislikes most vegetables apart from broccoli. Apart from that, she has a texture sensitivity when it comes to mushy foods like mashed potatoes. And also— "
"You are so fucking creepy." Sophia said, cutting her off. "How do you even know all that?"
Taylor grinned. "Shall we discuss your preferences in dessert?"
They continued to bicker and Madison glanced at Emma, who smoothly twisted her frown into a polite smile.
<~@~>
While Madison wasn't a social butterfly, she had developed a kind of instinct for the flow of how people behaved. She had to, in order to predict how bullies would act. So while Madison couldn't have explained her conclusion in concrete terms, she knew that today was the time to push.
The tactic she had planned was a cheap shot at best. However, she was gambling that it would culminate with her other efforts. A last straw to break the camel's back. She adjusted her ribbon and strode into the cafeteria with as much confidence as she could muster. She spotted Emma and made a quick course correction so that her approach would be dead-on.
Madison caught Taylor's eye, and the other girl gave her a quick once-over before giving a subtle nod of approval. Good. She had better be right about this.
Emma was focused on her salad, so Madison coughed as she walked up. She was rewarded by a rather dramatic double-take as Emma took notice of her.
"Wha- what is…?" Emma trailed off, a dazed look on her face as she openly looked Madison up and down.
Wow. I guess Taylor wasn't totally full of it. Madison had zoned out for most of Taylor's explanation about the "attractive principles" underlying the thigh-high sock and mini-skirt combination, but it certainly seemed to have an impact. It was odd, since Madison had worn short skirts before and never gotten that kind of reaction. Maybe it was the full ensemble. Madison had tried to balance the skimpiness of the skirt with a conservative white button-down shirt and black ribbon tie, but somehow the contrast only made the overall effect more risque.
"Do you like my outfit?" Madison asked. "I'm trying a new look."
Disappointingly, Emma was quick to regain her composure. She nodded. "Um, yeah. It looks good."
The initial reaction wasn't bad, but I was hoping she'd be more off-balance. "Do you think I should wear things like this more often?" Do you care? Do you feel anything when you look at me?
Emma smiled, meeting her gaze. "It suits you."
Oh my God, boring. That sounds like something my mom would say. Madison frantically dispelled some images that arose at that thought. Fine. Drastic times, drastic measures. She stepped one foot onto the bench directly across from Emma, putting her leg prominently on display. "I haven't really worn socks like these before, but they're growing on me." She ran a finger underneath the band of the sock and tugged on it, then let it snap back to her skin. She peeked up.
Emma's face was neutral, almost uncannily so. However, her pupils had dilated quite a bit. Is that interest, or just surprise? "They're very nice," Emma said softly.
Madison quelled a sigh and sat down at the table. Nice, huh? I guess it's better than nothing. "Okay. Thanks for the feedback."
After a minute of eating in silence, Emma stood. "I'll be right back." She walked off.
Madison looked to Taylor, who gave her a thumbs up. "You think so?" Madison asked.
"I thought it went well," Taylor said.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"I hope you're right. I was optimistic in the beginning, but…" Madison shook her head. "I'm not sure I'm having a real effect."
<~@~>
As Emma arrived home, she made a bee-line for her room, giving her family only the most perfunctory of greetings. She closed the door, took a deep breath, and stared at her bed for a few moments before flopping onto it face-first. Emma remained in that position for a while, then reached out blindly to grab a pillow. She rolled over and secured the pillow firmly over her face, heedless of how it smeared her makeup.
Then she screamed.
Emma wasn't dense enough to think that her "like" for Madison was purely platonic. Emma wasn't an awfully self-aware person by nature, but being Taylor's best friend required a certain level of introspection. Where were the boundaries between romance and friendship? What kind of relationship was acceptable and healthy? What did she actually want from her relationships? Thus, she was more aware of her own feelings than she might have otherwise been.
So yes, she liked Madison a lot, crossing well over the line of platonic affection. However, Emma had mostly kept a lid on it. Madison was barely beginning to come out of her shell, looking to Emma for reassurance and guidance. It wouldn't have been right for Emma to push Madison into a relationship from a position of power like that.
And yet, Emma's self-control had been eroding. The reason was simple.
SHE IS SO. FUCKING. CUTE.
Emma punched her pillow over and over again. The last couple weeks had felt like a gradual descent into madness. It had started with a small intrusive thought. Madison had smiled and blushed, and something about that expression had caused Emma's brain to provide her with an abrupt and vividly imagined suggestion.
Why don't you kiss her neck?
It was a mostly harmless thought, but it had arisen so suddenly that Emma had squashed it, shoving it back into her subconscious. That had turned out to be a mistake. Trying to suppress the part of her which had spontaneously emerged had only made her mind more inclined to focus on it. She was now subject to a steady barrage of images and scenarios.
Why don't you have her sit on your lap?
Why don't you run your fingers through her hair?
None of it had been completely off-the-wall, but the constant need for discipline was exhausting. Each conversation now felt like a pitched internal struggle not to tackle Madison and cuddle her mercilessly. Saint Emma was pretty much done bullshitting herself about virtuously denying her worldly desires for the sake of healthy power dynamics.
I don't care anymore. I want to be selfish.
She paused, breathing heavily.
Calm down. Taylor is the maniac. You're the reasonable one. You're in control of your urges, not the other way around.
Then the Sock Incident popped into her head and she writhed, smashing the pillow back onto her face as she yelled wordlessly. Madison's little show of leg had elicited a distressingly long moment where Emma had envisioned lunging across the table and doing things. It had taken Emma a supreme effort of will to keep her face straight.
I am LOSING MY SHIT here! What am I supposed to do? Am I going to have to ask Taylor? I really don't want to.
Emma groaned.
<~@~>
Madison heaved yet another sigh as she made her way to the parking lot. She had worn another variation of the schoolgirl outfit today and it had garnered another satisfying reaction. However, when she caught sight of herself in the reflection of a window, all she could think was that she was fooling herself. Dressing up, sneaking around, it was all just running away from what she really had to do: either talk to Emma honestly, or give up.
I don't want to be alone again. I like being her friend. It's probably better to just leave things the way they are.
"Hey! Madison!" Madison turned and cursed internally. Randy Pierce gave her one of those chin-pointing upward nods that guys did when they were trying to be cool. Randy was a pain in the ass. He never really bothered her, but he often got a little more chummy than she was comfortable with. He also hung out with some Empire guys, although she wasn't sure if he was actually involved with the gang. With both Taylor and Sophia going to Winslow, the gang kids had become a lot more low-profile. Still, it probably wouldn't be safe to just tell him to get lost. A couple of his buddies were lingering nearby.
"Uh, hey Randy." Madison tried not to make eye contact.
"That's a nice outfit you've got there. You look good."
"Thank you," Madison said carefully. Keep it short, don't elaborate. Some guys interpreted any coy response to a compliment as a signal to keep pushing.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Randy said, giving her a winning smile. Something about his face made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
"That's okay."
"Cool, cool. So, uh, Jeff Cooper is having a party this weekend, and I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go."
"Oh, well, I'm not really much of a party girl," Madison said. "Thanks for the invitation, though."
"Aw, come on, give it a shot," Randy said. "You'll have fun. I'll introduce you to some people. Or we could just hang out, keep it chill."
"No, thank you," Madison said, a bit more firmly. "I appreciate it, but I'd rather not."
"Seriously? What's holding you back? Come on, tell me."
"I just don't want to go, okay?" Madison snapped. She was irritable and this conversation was draining the last of her patience. "Just… back off."
Randy's friends snickered and he glanced at them before shooting a glare Madison's way. "Fine, whatever. You don't have to be such a bitch about it. I was just trying to be nice."
"No, you were just refusing to take 'no' for an answer. I'm not interested. Take a hint."
"Fuck you," Randy spat. "I don't know why I bothered. Seems like you bat for the other team anyways."
Madison froze. It felt like icy fingers were climbing her spine. "Y-you don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, really? I see you hanging off Emma Barnes all the time. You two a little closer than you let on?"
The icy sensation vaporized under a boiling flash of anger. "Eat shit, Randy. You ever consider that you're just so disgusting that no girl would ever be interested in you?"
Randy took a furious step closer, his body language tensing, but Madison stood her ground. He paused and his eyes narrowed. "I know some guys, you know?" he said, leering. "They could make things very hard for you and your girlfriend."
Madison's pulse thundered in her ears. But despite all his bluster, this asshole wasn't any scarier than Sophia. She summoned some of that energy to brace herself. "You don't have the balls, you pathetic prick. Go fuck yourself." She spun and briskly strode away.
<~@~>
Emma pulled me aside. "Talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure," I said.
Emma led me to an empty classroom before speaking again. "You know Randy Pierce?"
"I know everybody," I said. Emma gave me a look. I chuckled. "Only by name. He's loosely affiliated with some Empire kids." Since Neo-Nazis posed a threat to pretty much everyone I loved, I made a point of knowing who they and their friends were.
Emma folded her arms. "That's him. I want him gone."
"Gone, or… gone?"
"I never want to see his face again. Does that answer your question?"
"Yes," I said slowly. "May I ask what he did?" Not that it mattered, but it was possible it'd be helpful to know.
Emma's face grew cold and empty, the way it got when she was truly angry. "He threatened Madison."
"Ah," I said. "I'll try to get it done by next week."
<~@~>
Good news, readers! I now had a great idea for a date activity with Sophia.
<~@~><~@~><~@~>
AN: Sorry for the delay. I've been busy with work, and I went back and forth with this chapter when I had the time to work on it.
As you can probably guess, we will be returning to the Taylor and Sophia Show in the next installment.
Cecylene
Eternal Idea Engine
- Location
- Massachusetts
- Pronouns
- He/They
She said, with the same hint of condescending sarcasm mixed with excitement that Prof. Farnsworth would tell his delivery crew about a job that would entail their almost certain demise.
UrsaTempest
Don't Panic!
That last line is just perfect.
Madison flaunting her cuteness is good, too. When will Emma break, I wonder...
Madison flaunting her cuteness is good, too. When will Emma break, I wonder...