Taylor Has a Strange Hobby (Yandere!Taylor)

[Reno hiroyuki]

ahahah this is holy fucking awsome

 

[Stagnant_Sloth]

This story is amazing, as always. Thanks for the update, I'm excited to see what happens next. This version of the characters is quite fun.

 

[Raiseth]

Okay, this is crackier than literally Sauron being gay for Sophia, and I didn't think it's possible. I love it.

Let's see how it works out.

 

[BlueNine]

Chapter 12​

Hi there. Taylor here, back at it again. Before we get started, I'd like to address some concerns that readers expressed after my last chapter. Mainly, I want to clarify that I don't go around killing people, even if I find them personally offensive. I would have thought that would be self-evident, but I saw a distressing number of comments expressing something to the effect of "Taylor totally just murdered that guy" or "I'm reporting this as evidence of a crime." I beg your pardon? Where is all this suspicion coming from? I thought that we had developed a measure of trust.

Alright. I admit that I may have said some unsavory things in order to elicit more scolding. And I'm not claiming that everything I did during my mission to neutralize Randy was entirely legal. But come now, readers. Even if you doubt my integrity, Sophia was by my side for the whole adventure. Are you insinuating that she would be a party to cold-blooded murder? I should hope not. Despite her peccadilloes, she is a dedicated heroine at heart. I will not tolerate baseless slander of her character.

Oh, and I haven't released this story in any universe where I could get in trouble for it, so the whole issue is moot in any case.

Have we come to an understanding? Yes? Good. Back to the story.

The after action report for Krieg's arrest was blessedly brief. I was a touch worried that Director Piggot would consider our independent patrol to be "off book," but she didn't seem to care. We called in the situation, saved the civilian, and captured a villain. All with minimal explosions and/or dismemberment. As far as the Director was concerned, that constituted a resounding success. However, interpreting her praise more carefully, it was likely that she gave us leeway in light of the results we attained. If we bent the rules without anything to show for it, we probably would be having a different conversation.

Sophia split off and I followed Armsmaster to his lab. He cleared some space off a workbench and gestured for me to take a seat across from him.

"I appreciate you making the time to meet with me," I said.

He nodded and removed his helmet, running a hand over his close-cropped hair. "I'll preface this conversation by saying that I will be acting in an advisory role only. As much as I'd like to make equipment for the Wards, I simply don't have the time or resources to add another project."

I nodded. "Understood. Did you review the list of ideas I sent over?"

He pressed some buttons on his wrist-pad and a document appeared on a screen on the far wall. "I've consolidated your list with my existing file." He made a gesture and the screen filled with blueprints displayed side by side. "Excluding weaponry, I believe that Vista would benefit most from gear focused on mobility. There are a variety of solutions, but I would recommend flight."

"I see," I said, scribbling down notes as I looked over the designs. "Flight, huh?"

Armsmaster nodded. "Yes. Since her ability is restricted by the presence of living beings, it is unreliable as a means of mobility in combat. A flight rig would allow her to stay out of reach and give her an unobstructed view of the battlefield. However, she'd also pose a more tempting target to ranged attacks, so I would recommend improved armor or shielding." His eyes unfocused slightly as he manipulated a design on the screen. "Weight and space constraints could become an issue with more complex defensive modules. Although, since the device would be for Vista's use, she might be able to ameliorate some of those concerns. I'd have to run some tests to verify the functionality of altered components." He tilted his head and opened one of the blueprints into an exploded view.

I had been around Chris long enough to recognize oncoming Tinker tunnel vision. I cleared my throat. "Are you interested in working on the project?"

He grimaced, tearing his eyes away from the screen. "Ah. Unfortunately, no. It does seem to be a worthwhile idea, though. Perhaps you can ask Kid Win."

"Do you think this is something he can make?"

Armsmaster stroked his beard. "Possibly. He's made power suits and flight systems before. However, he's been having… difficulties, lately."

I paused. Chris hadn't said as much outright, but I had surmised that his relationship with Armsmaster was strained. The Protectorate leader had exacting standards and little patience, so I could imagine a few reasons why they might not be getting along. "Well, I'll ask him," I said carefully. "Would you be open to troubleshoot if he needs help?"

Armsmaster sighed. "I can't promise when I'll be available." He closed his eyes for a long moment. "But if he asks for help, I'll do my best to make time."

"I think he'd appreciate that," I said. I hoped I wasn't pushing them to reconcile before they were ready. "Thank you. You've been very helpful."

He gave me a curt nod. "Of course. I'll forward you simplified versions of the designs I have listed here."

<~@~>

I smirked at Emma.

She glared at me.

I leaned a little closer, raising an eyebrow.

"Cut it out," Emma said.

"Cut what out?"

"I know that you know, okay? You don't have to be so smug about it."

I gave her a one-armed side hug. "I'm happy for you two. Really."

"Thanks," she grumbled. "I'm glad she and I worked it out." A content smile blossomed on her face, and I was struck by a mixed wave of happiness and irritation.

I cleared my throat. "Took you long enough."

Emma's eyes narrowed. "Are we having a discussion about honest communication in relationships?" I paused, then made a "zipped lips" gesture. "That's what I thought."

"So, who confessed first?" I asked, holding my chin in my palms as I listened attentively.

Emma looked away. "She did."

I cackled and poked her in the side. "Chicken! You made poor little Madison take the initiative. I'm ashamed to call you my wife."

Emma grabbed me by the ear. I couldn't take much damage at once, but let me tell you, it doesn't take a lot of pressure on the ear to be painful. "You're talking big, huh? How much progress have you made with Sophia?"

"We went on a date!" I protested.

Emma scoffed. "Beating up criminals doesn't count as a date."

"That's awfully close-minded of you. People communicate their love in different ways."

Emma pulled me in closer. "So if I went and asked Sophia right now, she would agree that you two have been on a date?" I whimpered. She snorted and released me.

I rubbed at my ear and pouted. As you can see, readers, attraction is dependent on context. If Sophia bullied me so viciously, this would have been a heart-pounding moment. As it was, the situation was simply cruel and unfair.

"I'm just saying," I said. "You're supposed to be the one, you know, making the moves."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Wait, are you serious?" I smirked.

"Are you actually giving me the smug face right now?" Emma asked, an edge in her voice. "Tell me what you mean. Now."

I shivered, and not in the good way. "Okay, okay. You're the, um, decision maker in the relationship. The dominant."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Taylor, I know that you enjoy that kind of thing, but not every couple works that way."

"Oh, come on. You honestly haven't noticed?" She gave me a dubious look, so I continued. "Okay. When was the last time that you asked Madison to do something, or suggested something, and she didn't follow along?"

"I… well, that doesn't prove anything. So what if we don't argue? We get along. We're compatible."

"Yes. You are," I said, rubbing at my forehead. "Because you like to tell her what to do and she likes to do it."

"What? You make it sound like I'm a controlling bitch. That's not how it is."

"No, of course not," I said, hugging her again. I paused for a moment to get the phrasing correct. "Dominance isn't just about force and tyranny. You're not pushing Madison around or forcing her to do things she doesn't want to. You just like to give her guidance, and she likes to accept that guidance because it makes her happy to make you happy. There's nothing wrong with that."

Emma put her palms together in front of her face and took a deep breath. "Fuck. You're right. Fuck."

"Are you okay?" I honestly meant for this revelation to be a silly bit of banter, not whatever existential crisis Emma was seemingly experiencing.

"Yeah. I mean, I don't have a problem with that kind of stuff, obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't hang around you, you weird bitch."

"I love you too."

Emma smiled and squeezed my wrist. "But, well… ugh. This is going to sound stupid." I nodded and waited. "I don't want to be a bully," she said.

I squinted at her. "You're not."

Emma laughed. "Thanks, but I don't think that—"

"Emma, who do you think you're talking to right now?" I asked. Emma opened her mouth and I cut her off. "Who is the undisputed expert on bullying here? Me, or you?"

Emma snorted. "You."

"Then let me make the call on this. You are not a bully. At best, you have a few bully-adjacent skills. But if you think that raw talent is enough, then you're looking down on real bullies. Do you know how much effort Sophia put into bullying me for the first couple weeks? She pushed me up against the—"

"Alright, alright," Emma said, pressing a hand over my mouth. She rolled her eyes. "You just had to make it weird, didn't you?" I smiled. Emma took a deep breath. "I just… do you remember Tamara?" She removed her hand.

My smile widened. "Ah. Her." Of all the bullies I had had the pleasure of knowing, Tamara had been arguably the most vindictive. I didn't even need to feel remorse for making her play my game.

"Yeah, her. Turbo-bitch. And even after everything she did, she played the victim. Tried to make me look like the bad guy when I took her down."

"She was a narcissist," I said, shrugging.

"Yeah. I guess. I probably went too far, though," Emma said. Her mouth twisted in distaste.

"I'm… I'm sorry," I said. Tamara would never have been what you'd call a nice person, but she certainly didn't benefit from my encouragement of her more unpleasant traits.

"It's okay. I didn't… I don't regret it. I don't know. Maybe that says something about me. I liked taking her apart, the same way I did with the others. All those horrible bitches." Emma shook her head.

"I don't…" I trailed off.

"I know, I know," Emma said, waving me down. "They don't bother you. But I can't help but get pissed off when they insult you, or spread rumors about you, or whatever. Because how fucking dare they, you know?"

Emma bit her lip. "But that's not really the thing. It's that when the time comes, and you're done… doing your thing, I'm not really thinking about you. I just want them to suffer. I want to burn them up. So I do. I make their lives hell, every day, until they just… give up." Emma gave me a wry smile. "I enjoy it. More than I should, probably."

"I'm really sorry," I said, my shoulders slumping.

Emma tipped my chin up. "Hey, I'm not trying to make you feel bad. It's just… when you say that I'm the one who makes the decisions, it makes me wonder if I'm the right type of person to be doing that. I like—" Emma paused and shook her head. "I love Madison. I don't want to hurt her. She's been hurt enough."

I sighed. "I get that you're worried, but I don't think you're giving Madison enough credit. She's tougher than she seems. And if she didn't want to be with you, she wouldn't have asked you out." I paused. "Excuse me. I meant to say that she wouldn't have been forced to ask you out, because you're a big chicken."

"Taylor!" Emma said, slapping my shoulder. "We were having a moment here!"

I laughed and caught her hand. "Sorry. But really, I get it. You're second-guessing yourself. 'Am I a good enough person to be with her? Will she hate me if she sees who I really am?' That sort of thing. I never really thought about those questions before Sophia, but I worry all the time now."

Emma sighed, then laughed. "I hesitate to ask, but what do you do when you have those kind of thoughts?"

I tapped a finger against my lips. "I've been trying to be more honest, like you said, and that's helped. It feels more… meaningful? It sounds kind of cheesy, but it's true." I paused, considering my words. "I think that if you just go to Madison and be honest with her, it'll probably work out. Like I said, she's tougher than she seems. You don't need to tiptoe around the point."

Emma nodded slowly. "I guess you're right. And I can't be a chicken, can I?" She gave me a rueful look and I averted my eyes.

"Yes, well. Let's just say we both have room for improvement." I cleared my throat, still looking away. "If you're interested, I have some literature you can look at. About, you know… the kinds of relationships we're in."

Emma winced. "Okay, yeah. Thank you." She sagged in her chair. "Why do our love lives have to be so complicated?"

I shrugged. I had given up asking myself that question. "At least our girlfriends are cute."

<~@~>

If there was one good thing that Sophia could say about Hebert, it was that she didn't hesitate to take care of business. She had the killer instinct, the drive to see things through. However, there was a fine line between tenacity and obsession. Yeah, Randy Pierce was an asshole, and yeah, he had needed to get fucked up for threatening Madison. Sophia had no objections to laying a beat-down where it was deserved, or even going further if the situation called for it. As far as Sophia was concerned, if you wore gang colors on the street — Empire especially — you accepted the possibility that you'd be going to the emergency room. Live by the sword and all that.

But while Randy Pierce was a slimy little fucker, he was a wannabe at best. A groupie. If you started dropping every high-school dipshit who thought that saying the n-word made them cool, the bloodbath would never end. So Sophia had made an executive decision on how to deal with him. He was still probably wondering why the universe had decided to take a shit on him all of a sudden, but it was a downright mercy compared to Hebert's original plan. The girl had been hiding a hell of a sadistic streak.

Worryingly, that discovery implied a much larger problem. Sophia liked to think she had an eye for people. Her instincts weren't perfect, but they had rarely failed her the way that they had repeatedly done with Hebert. Sophia had assumed that Hebert was weak, but she had a spine where it counted. Sophia had assumed that Hebert was oblivious, but she could be devious and razor-focused when she wanted. That meant that Sophia also had to rethink the possibility that Hebert had some sort of a crush on her. It seemed ridiculous, but so had all the other things that she now knew to be true.

Sophia took a deep breath. The first question was if it mattered. Even if Hebert was secretly madly in love with her, Sophia was a pro. She could suck it up and pretend not to notice the other girl's feelings if it meant that they could continue working together effectively.

Coward.

Sophia snarled, then took a deep breath. When in doubt, Sophia always tried to tackle uncomfortable things head-on. Anyone could do the things that they were good at, but those who wanted to be strong had to push their limits. Ignoring the problem would be a weak move.

But what to do, then? The obvious answer was to press Hebert outright, but… no. Sophia wouldn't be able to survive the shame if she turned out to be wrong. And if she were right, then what? Sophia winced but pressed on. Pushing your limits meant asking yourself difficult questions. How were you fucking yourself over? Why were you afraid to think about that topic?

How would you react if Hebert asked you out?

Sophia wasn't disgusted by the idea of a girl liking her. If she were forced to answer at gunpoint, she'd say she was bisexual. Well, to be more accurate, in that situation she would probably say "take your best shot, bitch."

But while she could have thoughts, on the rare occasion that she found someone worth a damn, she had never seriously considered getting into a relationship. She didn't have time to waste on that kind of thing.

Excuses.

Sophia cleared her throat. Hebert had grown on her a bit. That wasn't too painful to admit. She was interesting, and reliable, for a certain definition of the word. Sophia didn't mind spending time with her as… colleagues. But that was all she was willing to accept for now. If Hebert asked her out, Sophia would turn her down. She wouldn't be a bitch about it, but the answer would definitely be a firm "no."

Sophia nodded, satisfied that she hadn't flinched away from the question. She wouldn't go out of her way to ask Hebert about her suspicions, but she would be ready to reject her properly if the subject came up.

For now, Sophia had actually important things to discuss. Her "independent patrol" with Hebert had gone shockingly well. A civilian rescued and Krieg captured, without a single casualty? Piggot couldn't even muster up an excuse to give Sophia the usual "toe the line" speech.

But while Sophia couldn't complain about the results, she had barely contributed to the fight. It left her itching to do something, to prove herself.

"Hey, Hebert," Sophia said, nudging the girl with her elbow.

Hebert turned and her face lit up. "Oh, hi Sophia!"

Sophia squinted. "Hi. Would you be down to hit more Empire targets?"

Hebert put a hand over her heart. "Are you asking me out on another patrol?"

"Yeah? Why'd you put it like that? It's a patrol, not prom."

"Of course not. Prom isn't until senior year." Hebert pursed her lips. "There probably aren't a lot of soft targets so soon after Krieg's arrest. We could do some prep work, though."

"Prep work?"

"Yes. There are quite a few minor tasks that need to be done in order to prepare for success in the master plan."

"Seriously?" What's with her and the master plans? I guess I should be grateful she's not a villain.

Hebert laughed. "Well, we can't destroy the Empire overnight. It's going to be a long-term project."

Sophia rolled her eyes, then blinked as Hebert's expression remained completely flat. "Christ. You're not kidding, are you?"

Hebert's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Why would I be kidding?"

"I don't know… maybe because they've got like a dozen capes? And that's not even considering the normal goons."

"Yes, yes, lots of work to be done. That's why we should get an early start."

"You're insane. Listen, I'm all for sticking it to the Nazis, but there's only so much we can do by ourselves. Just because you're a fuck-off high-tier Brute doesn't mean they won't find a way to take you out if you become a big enough problem."

Hebert's dismissive expression fell, and she gave Sophia a warm smile. "I appreciate your concern, Sophia. It means a lot to me."

Sophia growled. "Tay— Hebert, don't change the subject."

Hebert put her hands up. "Sorry, sorry. But… I'm worried for you, too." Her eyes unfocused. "There's a whole organization that wants to hurt you just because of how you were born. That's unacceptable."

Sophia snorted. "No shit. I don't know if you've cracked a history book lately, but racist assholes are a bigger problem than just the Empire."

Hebert frowned, then shook her head. "All the more reason to tidy up our little corner of the world, then."

"Whatever," Sophia said, sighing. "As long as we keep busting skinheads without making it into a suicide mission, I'm in."

Taylor clapped excitedly. "Great! Don't worry. The plan is solid."

"You see, when you say shit like that, it makes me worry more."

<~@~>

Sophia rapped her knuckles on Missy's door. "Yo, shrimp, time to go."

Missy glared at her. "Are you ever going to run out of immature ways to call me short?"

Sophia smirked. "Not today, half-pint." Hebert had bitched about Sophia "being mean" to Missy, but a little banter was still fair game as far as Sophia was concerned. It wasn't as though Sophia really wanted to hurt the littlest Ward's feelings; it was just easy to get a rise out of her. Besides, Missy could defend herself just fine.

Missy rolled off her cot, grumbling. Then her face twisted into a smug smile. "Say, Sophia. Have you checked PHO lately?"

"What? No. Why would I want to watch dumbasses argue on the Internet?"

Missy snickered. "You should. Dennis shared a video I think you'd like."

Sophia's eyes narrowed.

<~@~>

Dennis gleefully inflamed the ongoing discussion. He had a lot of practice skirting the line of inappropriate behavior on PHO, and his irreverent hero persona meant that PR mostly left him to his own devices with social media posts. He chuckled to himself as he re-opened the video that he posted to start the conversation.

The words "Knight Stalker" faded onto the screen in loopy cursive text, and soft acoustic guitars played in the background.

"Let me be your hero…" a singer sensuously whispered, and Dennis cackled as the infamous image of Taylor holding Sophia in a bridal carry appeared. As the song progressed, so did a slideshow of pictures and short clips of Avalon and Shadow Stalker in various positions that could be vaguely construed as romantic.

He started wheezing about a minute in as the line "Hold me in your arms tonight. I can be your hero, baby" coincided with a shot of Taylor leaning in closer as she held Sophia in her arms. Shipping maniacs on PHO always put so much effort into these things; it was incredible. The fact that Sophia was well-known as being surly and standoffish only fed the fires. There were now two firmly entrenched factions of "Avalon x Shadow Stalker" and "Shadow Stalker x Avalon," each with disturbingly enthusiastic arguments why their view of the imaginary relationship was more accurate.

"Hey Dennis," Sophia said from the threshold of the break room. Dennis hastily slammed his laptop shut.

"Uh, hey, Sophia," he said, grinning.

"What were you looking at?" she asked mildly. Too mildly.

"Just a thread on PHO." He didn't expect her to have learned about the video just yet. She was vocal about PHO being a waste of time.

"I see. You doing alright? You look nervous."

If he weren't nervous before, he certainly would be now. Sophia did not, as a rule, inquire after anyone's wellbeing. "No… I'm fine."

"Nothing to be nervous about, huh? That's nice." Sophia smiled, and a chill settled into Dennis' gut. He had been ready to accept Sophia's retaliation. When you made a joke at someone's expense, that was the cost of doing business. But he had expected a burst of rage followed by a smack or two. Not this… patient, empty smile. It reminded him of the few times he annoyed Taylor. She never got angry outright, instead hiding her irritation until she could take revenge in some indirect yet terrifying way.

Sophia stared at him for a few more seconds, then turned to leave. "See you around, Dennis."

That's probably not good.

<~@~>

"And so if you don't want to be my girlfriend anymore, I would understand," Emma said.

Madison blinked. "Wow. Um… okay. I don't really know where to start." Emma looked away and Madison clicked her tongue. "Alright, first off, I'm not breaking up with you. It's been what, a week? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Emma laughed and Madison glared at her. "Sorry," Emma said. "I just don't hear you curse that often."

"I save it for special occasions. Like when my girlfriend is making excuses to break up with me right after I bust my ass to admit my feelings."

"That's not—"

"Nuh-uh, no more talking. My turn." Madison took a deep breath, seeking patience. "Yes, I know that you can be scary when you want to be. But that doesn't mean you're a bad person. Do you plan on hurting me?"

Emma's eyes widened and she reached out to take Madison's wrists. "Of course not! I would never."

"So why should I be afraid of you? Because you're tough? That doesn't bother me. I like that about you. You're strong, and decisive, and you're always looking out for me." Madison interlaced her fingers with Emma's. "I feel safe with you."

Emma grinned, a blush dusting her cheeks with red. "I'm glad. I just… I want to be good, with you. I don't want to hurt you or push you around."

"I don't think you'd ever hurt me. At least not on purpose." Madison averted her eyes. "And, um, you don't have to be worried about… pushing me around." She cleared her throat, heat rising along her neck and face. "I don't mind."

"Oh?" Emma said, a teasing glint in her eye.

Madison pouted. "Yes, alright? I like it when you… take charge."

"I can do that," Emma said slowly. "But I don't want you to do everything I want just because I say so. If you're uncomfortable, I need you to tell me."

"Sure, yeah," Madison said, her head bobbing in agreement. "I wasn't thinking of anything crazy. We can... take it slow."

Emma smiled, kissing the back of Madison's hand. "Slow works for me." Emma met Madison's gaze. "Was there anything specific you wanted me to do?"

Madison bit her lower lip. "Uh, now that you mention it, there is something I wanted to try. It might sound a little weird, though."

<~@~>

Sophia and I sat together on the bleachers after another day of track practice. After a few minutes of resting in silence, the summer air was cut by the cheerful ringing of a bicycle bell.

Ring-ding! Ring-ding!

We craned our necks to look towards the street.

Sophia squinted. "Is that…?"

It was. Emma and Madison cruised along the road on a tandem bike, the drive chain whirring as they pedaled together. Emma steered them carefully through a turn.

"Look at those fuckin' dorks," Sophia said, with what I could have sworn was a touch of grudging affection. I chuckled and pulled out my phone to take a picture.

"Let's go faster!" Emma shouted.

Madison giggled. "Okay!" She whooped as they picked up speed and rolled around a corner out of sight.

Sophia and I looked at each other.

"You got a picture of that, right?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"We're gonna give them so much shit tomorrow."

"Absolutely."

<~@~><~@~><~@~>

AN:

The SMV (shipping music video) song:



This chapter is a bit jumbled, but I've been stuck for a while and I really wanted to get something out to start building momentum again.

 

[Raiseth]

Fucking d'aaaaaaaawww.

Why is this so wholesome. Why.

Also, I just imagined this Taylor publishing her story in another universe and a different version of her reading it, and I just-
All the Taylors out there ashamed of Avalon and trying to find a way to travel across the dimensions and smack her in the face
A Crisis of Infinite Taylors, if you will
Except for the cautiously supporting Annataylor, but she's a bit weird

 

[Pokemon0406]

Great it was amusing

 

[Stagnant_Sloth]

The jumbled bits didn't bother me at all. It was nice to see lots of little bits thrown in. This story continues to be amazingly funny without being too ridiculous, and as said above, somehow wholesome despite the initial setup for the plot.

I am extremely grateful that you didn't abandon it, as I love stories where all these characters get along or are at least sympathetic, and we're totally seeing Sophia's shell cracking and it's great!

I'm hoping that when the situation she thought so hard about how she'd react to comes up that her actual answer surprises even her.

Thanks for the update, BlueNine!

 

[Vhalidictes]

Poor Sophia.

She has little idea that Taylor is entirely serious about arresting the entirety of the E88, does she?

 

[Mourning Glory]

To quote Elvis
"But I can't help falling in love with you"

That can be taken as flirting or a threat.

 

[OPPenguin]

She has little idea that Taylor is entirely serious about arresting the entirety of the E88, does she?

Click to shrink...

Arresting?

 

[Raiseth]

Arresting?

Click to shrink...

E R A S I N G, more likely.

 

[Datcord]

E R A S I N G, more likely.

Click to shrink...

Oh, your god, people. Taylor JUST covered this! She was (and is) merely expressing sentiments that would result in "better" scoldings, not doing anything... distasteful! She CLEARLY stated that, how can you not understand it? Re-read the last chapter! It's RIGHT before the part where she points out that no one reading it had any legal jurisdiction over her, so she was safe.

...wait.

 

[BlueNine]

Chapter 13​

As a frequent recipient of female social aggression, I have experienced a creative panoply of rumors, distortions, and outright slander of my character. Gossip, in other words. I don't mind it as part of a balanced bullying campaign, but I find it rather gauche when a girl uses it as their only strategy. Perhaps it's my bias speaking — my Sophia prefers a more direct approach — but can you really call yourself a proper bully if you can't muster the wherewithal to engage with your target face to face? It seems so cold and impersonal.

However, boorish as it may be, gossip will always remain a cornerstone of non-physical bullying because, well, it's easy. As social animals, we are compelled to discuss the affairs of others. We can't help ourselves. Who likes whom? Who hates whom? We want to know what others in our "tribe" are up to, and we're more inclined to pay attention to bad news than good. In short, that means nasty rumors practically spread themselves. And if a rumor-monger has two brain cells to rub together, they'll distance themselves from potential blow-back by claiming they "just heard it" from a nebulous third party.

Anyhow, let me bring the narration back on track. Why are we talking about gossip? Well, after I regrettably lost my composure during my conversation with Battery, I had grown curious about the truth behind her relationship with Assault. And as you may have inferred from my saga thus far, I am not one to leave stones unturned. I could have begun the investigative legwork from scratch, but I firmly believe that one should leverage the talents of others when one can. This was where my familiarity with gossip came into play.

If any of you dear readers have worked in an office environment, you'll know that there's almost always an individual who is "up in everyone's business." Their motivations vary; some are moral busybodies, while others derive sadistic glee from knowing their coworkers' woes. But regardless of their personality, these people are reasonably easy to draw out if you know what to look for.

Michelle Watkins worked in the accounting department, and at first glance she appeared to have precisely the kind of dry and methodical temperament one would expect of someone drawn to that profession. However, after I dangled a few tempting tidbits about the romantic lives of our co-workers, her mask slipped.

While Commander Calvert valued secrets for the power they gave him, Michelle treated them as if they were puzzles to be unraveled. She did not act as a "traditional" gossip — that is, she did not derive pleasure from spreading unsavory news. She simply enjoyed digging up and possessing information that others would rather keep buried.

"Assault and Battery, huh?" she said, glancing up from her Sudoku. "I'm surprised you figured out that they're married. They keep that pretty close to the chest."

"They do, yes. How did you figure it out?"

Michelle smirked. "It wasn't too hard. They tried not to leave at the same time — to hide that they were living together — but they always staggered it fifteen minutes apart. There was some other stuff, little things. Patterns add up."

"Have you considered becoming a detective?" I asked, grinning.

Michelle shook her head. "I considered getting into forensic accounting, but I didn't want to turn my hobby into a job. Work is work. I prefer it that way."

"Fair," I said. "So, do you know anything about how they got together?"

"Ah, well, that's a tougher question. No one really knows. But if I had to speculate, I'd say they knew each other before they got partnered up."

I leaned forward and rested my elbows on her desk. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, Bryce from HR said he heard Battery screaming at Assault in the cafeteria just a few days after Assault was assigned here. Bryce didn't catch the whole conversation, but apparently Battery said something about 'you always do this.'" Michelle raised an eyebrow. "Does that sound like an argument between people who'd only known each other for a week or so?"

"I guess," I said. "But maybe they just really didn't get along. Got under each others' skin."

"Right, could be. But then there's the question of Assault's background. Pretty much as soon as he was posted here, he was paired up with Battery. Why? And where did he come from? He clearly picked his hero name to complement hers, so it's doubtful he was a transfer from another Protectorate department. That means he's probably a re-branded vigilante or villain."

I nodded. "I can see that. So is there any way to find out what his old persona was?"

"Probably, yeah, but I never bothered looking into it," Michelle said, shrugging. "The turnover on indie capes is ridiculous. They're constantly moving, dying, re-branding. You'd have to ask an actual analyst if you wanted to run it down. Or PHO, if you're willing to wade into that swamp."

I frowned and fiddled with a pen on Michelle's desk. "I see."

"Why so curious? Is there another betting pool I don't know about?"

"No, nothing like that. I had a… disagreement, with Battery, and I'm trying to figure out if I should apologize."

Michelle shrugged. "Battery is pretty patient. She has to be, married to that guy. I think she'd forgive you for whatever it is."

"Yeah, probably. I just want to know more about what's really going on before I talk to her again." I disliked going into a conversation where I couldn't predict how it would flow.

"Good luck with that." She scribbled into her Sudoku puzzle and pumped her first in victory. "There. Got it." She set it down and looked at me directly. "Anyways, how've you been? I hear the Wards are preparing for the PR event."

"Oh, yes. The costume department is preparing special armor for me so I don't sweat to death playing sports."

"Fun. I think the most exertion I get is when I go bowling," she said. "Are you excited?"

"I suppose. I don't mind these meet and greet events, but they drain me after a while."

"Ah, the life of a socially inclined introvert. I feel your pain," Michelle said with a wan smile. "You do a good job keeping up a friendly face, though. I hear that Image is having a field day with you and Shadow Stalker. It's an interesting contrast to see how you two deal with the public."

"Shadow Stalker is a very focused person," I said. "She feels strongly about using her time in a productive way." I tapped my chin. "You know, I think she might actually have fun at this event. She acts like it's going to be horrible, but I think she's secretly excited to beat people at the games. She's so competitive," I said, smiling.

"You two get along, huh?" she asked, resting her chin on her hand.

"Oh, of course! She's a bit abrasive, so most people don't bother to get to know her. Once you get past the gruff exterior, she's a loyal friend." And oh so passionate. I sighed happily. I glanced at Michelle and froze. She wore a polite smile, but her sharp gaze gave me the unsettling feeling that my words and expressions were being cataloged and analyzed as part of one of her interpersonal puzzles.

Gah! Is this the power of a natural love detective?

"Well, uh, thanks again for your help, Michelle. I have to go meet with Kid Win now," I said.

"Have fun!" she said, giving me a tiny wave goodbye.

><><<>

"Huh. Cool idea," Chris said, clicking through the file I sent him.

"Please make this happen," Missy said, folding her hands in front of her in a pleading gesture. "I've always wanted to fly."

"Are you really hurting for mobility?" Chris said, laughing.

"Taking shortcuts with space isn't the same as flying, Chris. Isn't that why you made a hoverboard?"

"I mean, yeah," he said, scratching his forehead sheepishly. "And it looks cool," he said under his breath.

"So what do you think?" I asked. "Can you do it?"

Chris manipulated the blueprint on his laptop. "Maybe? I'm gonna need more materials, that's for sure. That means I've gotta go through the whole proposal and requisition process."

"Budget problems?"

"Ah, well, sort of. It's more that I need to convince the money guys that the project will give a good return on investment. That means I need to have a breakdown of the parts and stuff, and then explain why it'll be useful."

I folded my arms. "You don't think they'd go for it?"

He pushed the laptop away from him and sighed. "I don't know. Maybe if I could put together a solid design, but, uh…" He trailed off, hanging his head.

"Sorry," I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I don't want to pressure you."

"It's fine." He picked up a screwdriver and tapped it against the bench. "I just can't… focus. I can start a project, and it goes fine for a while, but then I get distracted with something else." His grip tightened on the tool in his hand. "I'm not just trying to make excuses, I swear. It might help if I knew what my damn specialty was. I really hope it's not 'half-completed designs.'"

"That sounds frustrating," I said, falling back on the active listening tips I had forced myself to pick up. "It must be stressful trying to figure that out."

Missy winced. "Yeah, sorry, Chris. I didn't mean to put you on the spot."

Chris took a deep breath. "No, I'm the one who should be sorry. I really wish I could do this for you. I tried talking to Armsmaster about my… problems, but his tech and mine just don't jive."

"How hard is it for Tinkers to work together, usually?" I asked.

Chris shrugged. "Depends. Most of the time, Tinkers can at least get some sort of inspiration from seeing another Tinker's work. But when I looked at Armsmaster's gear, it just bugged me. Something about the layout, or the design? I'm not sure."

"Could it be helpful if we got a hold of some other Tinker tech? Something more in line with your style?"

Chris leaned back and nodded. "I mean, sure. Good luck getting it, though. Your average Tinker is pretty protective of their work. Even heroes. And there actually aren't that many Tinkers in this town. There's me, Armsmaster, Leet, uh, and that one lady who makes crazy vehicles. I don't remember her name."

"Squealer," Missy said, her nose crinkling with distaste.

"Yeah, her. So unless you can convince one of our resident asshole villain Tinkers to share, we're out of luck."

"Leet, huh?" I said, stroking my chin.

><><<>

"Take a seat, Avalon," Director Piggot said. I nodded and relaxed, slipping into the chair across from her. The PRT was not technically a military organization, the Wards even less so, but the Director appreciated shows of discipline. That meant no slouching, fidgeting, or speaking out of turn. "What can I do for you?" she asked.

"I'd like to request permission to speak with Leet, ma'am."

Piggot's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

"I'm aware that he has declined offers to cooperate with the PRT before, but I believe that I may be able to convince him."

Piggot snorted. "I do hope that you literally mean 'convince,' Avalon. With words."

I put on an innocent face. "Of course."

"Right. I know that you have personal feelings about those two idiots, but keep them in check." She tapped her finger on her desk. "Why Leet, specifically?"

"He has the weaker personality, ma'am. Especially without his friend to back him up."

"And you make this judgment, how?"

"Intuition, ma'am." One does not navigate the realm of bullying without a solid grasp of strength and weakness.

Piggot stared at me. "Fine. What are you hoping to get out of this conversation?"

"Ideally, to secure his cooperation with Tinker projects. His power is useful, if limited. If not that, then I would like to at least… temper his enthusiasm for villainy." If he accepted my offer, we could begin to put bygones behind us. If not, then I would need to emphasize that he had already transgressed past the point of tolerance.

A corner of Piggot's mouth quirked upwards. "I see. I'll allow it. However, Armsmaster will be monitoring the conversation and he will shut it down if it begins to become… unproductive."

"Certainly. Thank you, ma'am."

The Director nodded. "Consult with the analysts if you need help making your pitch."

><><<>

Two PRT agents brought Leet in, his hands bound with special manacles that prevented him from using his fingers. Tinkers were a nightmare to keep prisoner; short of keeping them immobilized entirely, few countermeasures were sufficient to prevent them from building something that could aid in their escape. The agents attached his shackles to the table and departed.

Leet's eyes darted as he tried to avoid my gaze. "What do you want?" he asked. "If you want an apology, I already said I was sorry. I couldn't predict a power interaction like that."

I deliberately laid my hands on the table, restraining my power as it energized the piece of furniture as a "weapon." Sophia's scream echoed in my mind. I shook my head. "No, no. I don't think we want to talk about that, now do we?"

Leet leaned back in his chair. "Okay, so what's up? Hope you're not here to give me the 'turn away from villainy' speech. You're wasting your time."

Ah, empty bravado. A favorite tactic of weak people trying to act strong. "Oh? Why's that?" I asked.

"Because the PRT is a joke. Same with the Protectorate. No offense," he said, shrugging.

"None taken. Explain, then. Why is the PRT a joke?" Not that I cared about his half-baked philosophy, but it would be best to get all the bluster out of the way.

"Well, they're acting like the government's still in charge. Like they can control capes and put them into neat little boxes. They can't." He shook his head. "Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against heroes, really. It's just… they don't want to understand the reality of how things are today."

"And what's that?"

"The short answer?" he asked. "Capes are too strong. They can do too much damage, and there's no good way to keep them locked up, especially if they're past a certain power tier. You either throw them in a hellhole like the Birdcage, or you take them out. So high-tier capes basically do whatever they want until someone kills them. Think about the Slaughterhouse Nine. They've been around since what, the nineties? Just rolling around North America, killing people for fun. Nobody stops them. Does that sound like the government's got things under control? Hell no."

"So how does that translate into what you do? You're a villain because it's everyone for themselves? Might makes right?"

Leet shrugged. "Listen, I'm not one of those cape supremacist assholes, okay? I'm barely even a villain. I'm just enjoying my hobby and using my power how I want, on my terms. I don't need some suit telling me what to do."

"And for the people who you hurt while you 'enjoy your hobby'?" I asked softly.

Leet froze and swallowed. "Hey, accidents happen, okay? I said I was sorry about that."

"Hmm. And the sex workers you beat? Were they accidents too?"

"That… was a mistake. We just wanted more views, you know? Controversy and shock value can bump your ratings," he said. I stared at him and he licked his lips nervously. "But, uh, I understand that was a very wrong thing to do, now. We'll never do anything like that again."

I shook my head. I had intended to flatter him a little before pressing him, but the more he spoke the less inclined I was to treat him nicely.

"Let me be honest," I said, sighing. "I don't like you, Leet. I don't sense any real remorse from you at all. It might be easy and fun to treat people like… NPCs," I said, leaning on the game knowledge I'd picked up from Greg, "but I promise, you will not like where that road leads you in the end." I drummed my fingertips on the table. "Since we fought, I've done quite a bit of research on you and your friend. Tell me, why do you think your channel is struggling?"

"We're doing fine," Leet said, though he broke eye contact. "Subs are down, but we've got some marketing stuff lined up."

"Come on, Leet. I've seen the numbers. You're bleeding subscribers. That's why you've been getting desperate. Ambushing Wards? You had to know what kind of heat that would bring you. But you had to do something. The only subscribers that are sticking with you are the ones that want to mock you and see you screw up. Why? Your content might not be my cup of tea, but I can tell that it's well produced, relatively speaking. So why is your channel in decline?"

Leet winced. "My power is—"

"No," I said, leaning forward. "That is incidental. You're not weak, or stupid, so don't act like you are. Yes, your power has limitations, and you become more restricted as time goes on. But it's still useful as long as you're creative. So again, what's the problem?" Leet ground his teeth and glared in silence. "You don't know? Then let me take another approach. Why is your channel about video games?"

Leet straightened, back in his comfort zone. "Because video games are a criminally underrated art form. They should be considered the same way as novels or paintings, but most people treat them like they're just for dumb kids. My power lets me show everyone how amazing games can really be."

"You admire game creators, then?"

"Well yeah, of course. They put a lot of work into making something awesome and fun."

"Right. That's what most people would consider a good game creator, right? But aren't there also quite a few companies that make the same game over and over, or include a bunch of micro-transactions just to make money?" Again, I could thank Greg and his rants for this line of argument.

"Sure. There are always soulless corpo devs like that. What's your point?"

"Soulless. That's a good word for it. You hold them in contempt because they have no soul. Their work provokes no thought, pushes no boundaries, carries no lesson. They're not performing the duties of an artist. Would you agree with that assessment?"

"Uh… yeah. That sounds right."

"Okay, good. So let me ask you one more thing. Do you think that you are fulfilling your role as an artist?"

Leet winced. "I mean… I'm an entertainer. I'm not trying to make a thought-provoking masterpiece or whatever."

"Ah, let's not back-pedal," I said, raising a finger. "You said you wanted people to see the artistic value of video games. I think you believe that, on some level. But on another, you're afraid. Afraid to try, to commit. You told me that you live on your own terms, right?"

"Y-yeah," he said, tensing.

"I don't think that you do. I think that you want the perks of being a villain with none of the downsides. You pursue selfish desires, but you're not willing to put anything on the line to achieve them. That makes you lukewarm," I said, holding my hands out palm up and raising each of them in turn, "neither hot nor cold. You draw viewers because of your novelty, but after a while they can sense that you're not invested in your own vision. You're just ripping off old games and hoping that'll be enough to tread water. Where's the 'soul' in that?"

Leet sagged. "I don't…" he said, shaking his head. "What do you want, huh? Did you come here just to shit on me? Call me a fucking sell-out or whatever?"

"No. I came here because despite how much I dislike you, I believe that you have the potential to do more than use shock humor to eke out a living. Am I wrong?"

"The fuck do you want me to say?" he said. "My power hates me. Even if I wanted to do something more ambitious, I'd probably blow myself up."

"Your power hates you?" I asked. It sounded absurd, but given that I felt positive emotional feedback from my power, an adversarial relationship might also be possible.

Affection. Reassurance.

…Thanks, power. Love you too.

"Figure of speech," Leet said, sighing. "I swear I can feel it when it's about to try and kill me with another backfire."

"Maybe you should consider what your power wants, then." My power seemed happiest when I smashed things, but it also appreciated when I acted creatively. For some reason, it had been especially tickled when I tried a yo-yo as a weapon. That particular day's events also led to the institution of the Avalon Sticky Hand Ban.

"What, seriously? It doesn't want anything but to make janky deathtraps."

"Suit yourself. But it doesn't seem that you have much to lose by trying, does it? Meditate on it. At worst, you'll do a little introspection about how you use your ability."

"I mean, yeah, I guess," he said, pursing his lips. He narrowed his eyes at me. "Why are you acting so helpful all of a sudden?"

"Like I said, I think you have potential. More than being a two-bit villain, at least."

"There it is," he said, sneering. "The old 'live up to your potential and be a hero' spiel. For a minute, I thought you had something original."

"Did I say you should be a hero?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "I won't lie; I think you could be a great help as a hero. But who am I to tell you what to do? Maybe you're doing the best you can. Maybe you'll leave this conversation fired up to be a nastier villain. I don't know. But I do hope that you'll take my words to heart."

"Fine, whatever. Message received. We done?"

"If you want to be," I said. I held up a folder full of documents. "This is an offer to you and your partner to cooperate with the PRT on a case-by-case basis as independent contractors. Legal stuff mostly; you'll need to look over it yourself."

"Yeah, yeah. Send it to my cell."

"Sure." I paused. "Before I go, I'd like to remind you of something," I said, folding my hands in front of me on the table. "We're not talking about heroes or villains anymore. I'm speaking to you as one person to another. Are you listening?" I asked, leaning over to look him in the eye. Leet bobbed his head in a hasty nod. "Good. Now, because of your negligence, your carelessness, you hurt someone that I care for very much. I find that… unacceptable. That means you, and your friend, have a shadow on you now. One that will follow you no matter what you do. So whatever you choose, I would recommend that you choose carefully."

Leet shrank back, his face mottled and pale. He swallowed hard before responding. "Right. Yeah."

I smiled and stood. "Thank you for hearing me out. I'll have the agent take you back to your cell."

><><<>

Hebert fidgeted. "Um, Sophia?"

"What?" Sophia said, eyeing the girl sideways.

"You and I have been getting along pretty well for a while now, right?"

Sophia took a deep breath. "Maybe. Why?"

"Well, I wasn't planning on asking you this before, but it feels like we've started to develop a certain level of trust, so, um…" Hebert looked away.

Sophia's jaw tensed. "So what?"

Hebert exhaled slowly, then turned to meet Sophia's gaze. "I'm going to take care of the people who attacked Emma last summer. Would you like to join me?"

Sophia blinked and shook her head. "Wait, what? You mean those ABB assholes I saved her from? I already kicked their asses."

"And I appreciate that very much," Hebert said, smiling warmly as she put a hand on Sophia's shoulder. "But is that all they deserve? For almost mutilating our friend?" She shook her head. "No. I don't think they've even begun to pay for that."

"Okay… so what do you want to do, then? I told you, I won't kill anyone unless they're trying to kill me."

Hebert chuckled and slapped Sophia's elbow lightly. "Of course not! Come on, Sophia. From the way you talk, you'd think I was constantly chomping at the bit to murder people."

"Well, maybe if you stop being so fucking creepy I'll stop assuming that you wanna stab someone."

Hebert blushed, for God only knew what reason, and looked down at her feet. "I, um, I understand that I'm asking a lot of you. Like I said, I was hesitant to even bring it up. I just… you know what, I'm sorry. Forget it."

Sophia rolled her eyes and tipped Hebert's chin up with two fingers. "What were you planning?"

Hebert froze, wide-eyed. "Um. What?"

"What are you planning on doing to those ABB fuckers?" Sophia said, a little louder.

"Does that mean you want to help me?" Hebert murmured.

"Well, it's not like I can leave you to do it alone." Sophia let her hand drop. "Who knows what kind of crazy shit you'd get up to?"

Hebert bit her lower lip. "Thank you, Sophia," she said, her voice breathy and low. "I knew I could count on you."

Sophia coughed, prickling heat rising up her neck and into her ears. "R-right. Anyways, let's focus. What's the plan?"

><><<>><><<>

AN: You can thank @Elpis for harassing me to stop rewriting this chapter to death and just post it. He's got a hoity-toity avante garde art quest called This Quest Starts at the End which he wrote a chapter for in exchange for this installment.

 

[m_d]

Eeeeee! So happy to see this! Thank you @Elpis!

I like that we're getting to see some of Taylor's process socially in terms of how she deals with potential mis-judgements. It's sort of inevitable that they'd happen now and then, but there are a lot of potential ways that she could respond to them. I'm interested to see how this one in particular goes, given the pseudo-parallels that have been drawn between the relationships. And Michelle the natural love detective is a neat character voice to read too.

Hebert blushed, for God only knew what reason, and looked down at her feet. "I, um, I understand that I'm asking a lot of you. Like I said, I was hesitant to even bring it up. I just… you know what, I'm sorry. Forget it."

Sophia rolled her eyes and tipped Hebert's chin up with two fingers. "What were you planning?"

Click to shrink...

Also, this passage in particular was adorable.

I think that this might be backwards somehow.

If he turned down my offer, we could begin to put bygones behind us. If not, then I would need to emphasize that he had already transgressed past the point of tolerance.

Click to shrink...

 

[Functionality]

Yeah, her. So unless you can convince one of our resident asshole villain Tinkers to share, we're out of luck."

"Leet, huh?" I said, stroking my chin.

Click to shrink...

…she's gonna convince Leet to collaborate with Kid Win, isn't she? That pep talk she gave is just setting the stage.

 

[Raiseth]

Affection. Reassurance.

…Thanks, power. Love you too.

Click to shrink...

How many people beings does Taylor cheat on Sophia with, anyway?!

First Contessa, now this! I don't even know what to call this ship! Stop playing with my feelings, goddamit!



More seriously, she's a Cauldron cape in this fic, isn't her Shard sorta... dead?

 

[Functionality]

More seriously, she's a Cauldron cape in this fic, isn't her Shard sorta... dead?

Click to shrink...

Death is not necessarily a barrier to troo luv WuW

 

[Raiseth]

Death is not necessarily a barrier to troo luv WuW

Click to shrink...

... I guess?
Taylor's fetishes continue to confuse and terrify me.

 

[Aurora Moon]

yay, this fic is back. hope to see more chapters.

 

[Tzardok]

More seriously, she's a Cauldron cape in this fic, isn't her Shard sorta... dead?

Click to shrink...

Dead means something else for shards than for people. I mean, if the shard were truely dead, how could it give you powers?

 

[Firedon]

More seriously, she's a Cauldron cape in this fic, isn't her Shard sorta... dead?

Click to shrink...

Dead as in, their communication hub is down, so they can't communicate with each other all that well anymore, not dead as in dead.

 

[Datcord]

More seriously, she's a Cauldron cape in this fic, isn't her Shard sorta... dead?

Click to shrink...

All these replies and NO ONE thinks to use the best one! Fine, I'll do it myself!

 

[BlueNine]

Eeeeee! So happy to see this! Thank you @Elpis!

I like that we're getting to see some of Taylor's process socially in terms of how she deals with potential mis-judgements. It's sort of inevitable that they'd happen now and then, but there are a lot of potential ways that she could respond to them. I'm interested to see how this one in particular goes, given the pseudo-parallels that have been drawn between the relationships. And Michelle the natural love detective is a neat character voice to read too.


Also, this passage in particular was adorable.

I think that this might be backwards somehow.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, I did want to show that Taylor makes these mistakes and is somewhat obsessive about fixing them. I already established that she felt alienated when she was younger because she didn't react to social situations in "the right way," so I thought it would make sense that she would be compelled to plan out interactions carefully. And when things don't go as planned or she makes an error in judgment, she pushes hard to learn why and tries to ensure that it doesn't happen again.

W-what's so adorable about it? Sophia is just making sure Taylor doesn't do anything crazy! There's nothing else to it!

Good spot on that mistake, thank you. Fixed now.

…she's gonna convince Leet to collaborate with Kid Win, isn't she? That pep talk she gave is just setting the stage.

Click to shrink...

Yep, that's the plan. She ripped him up and then gave him an avenue to rebuild his "pride as a gamer," lol.

How many people beings does Taylor cheat on Sophia with, anyway?!

First Contessa, now this! I don't even know what to call this ship! Stop playing with my feelings, goddamit!

More seriously, she's a Cauldron cape in this fic, isn't her Shard sorta... dead?

Click to shrink...

First of all, it's not cheating if it's Contessa. Second of all, Taylor x Shard is purely friendship. That does remind me that I'm still looking for cool names for Taylor's Gavel shard, if anyone has any ideas regarding that.

And people have responded in regards to "dead" shards, but yeah, we'll say that Taylor's vial shard isn't on the big Thinker Hub but is still necessarily able to interface with Taylor.

Death is not necessarily a barrier to troo luv WuW

Click to shrink...

Love is a many splendored thing.

... I guess?
Taylor's fetishes continue to confuse and terrify me.

Click to shrink...

And yet, where does your browsing bring you? Back to this fic.

All these replies and NO ONE thinks to use the best one! Fine, I'll do it myself!

View attachment 2451

Click to shrink...

"There's a big difference between 'mostly dead' and 'all dead.'"

Mostly dead shard can still land-line in to their Host's head and chat with other shards who give them collect calls. Also I want the heartwarming wacky shard-host interactions in this story, so even if canon forbade it, I don't give a fuck, boiiiiii.

 

[Raiseth]

First of all, it's not cheating if it's Contessa. Second of all, Taylor x Shard is purely friendship. That does remind me that I'm still looking for cool names for Taylor's Gavel shard, if anyone has any ideas regarding that.

Click to shrink...

Depends on where you want to go with this. If we are talking about pure functionality of the Shard, Structural Integrity seems like a safe bet.

Its function during the journey between the stars supposedly being protecting the Thinker from being damaged on collision with large objects while traveling at relativistic velocities.

Soooo
I guess she forgot to activate it while she was driving&texting, or the plot of Worm wouldn't have happened?

 

[Functionality]

As for names, I suggest "Obdurate Fortitude" or "Kinetic Steamroller".