dragonx99
Actually Satan
Actually the original original, ie the comic, did have two. The show however only used the one for whatever reason.
Taylor Has a Strange Hobby (Yandere!Taylor)
- Thread starter BlueNine
- Start date
Actually the original original, ie the comic, did have two. The show however only used the one for whatever reason.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I thought about having Madison running around doing baby-yandere stuff for a while, but I figured it was more realistic for Emma to notice that something was up right away. And clearly Madison can't keep a secret from her, lol.
Think, reader, think! The meme has taken on a life of its own! What will the original have, after a thousand meme reposts?
"It is as if the pharaohs have returned."
Theiyr're
This story continues to be awesome. Keep up the good work.
I frowned for a second because there/they're/their mixups are a pet peeve of mine. How dare you make me doubt myself, you cheeky bugger?
Well, obviously Taylor can't just do what Sophia says. That would be far too agreeable of her.
Actually the original original, ie the comic, did have two. The show however only used the one for whatever reason.
Uh, yeah! I knew that. That's why I wrote it that way, and not just because my brain is corrupted by memes.
Elpis
Ostensibly Hope
- Location
- Berlin
A second season.
15
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Chapter 15
PRE-CHAPTER CONTENT WARNING: IMPLIED VIOLENCE/GRIEVOUS BODILY HARM. NOTHING EXPLICIT, BUT STILL. JUST LETTIN' YA KNOW.
><><<>><><<>><><<>
Hello there, readers. I apologize for the delay. I noticed quite a few of you clamoring for violence in the story, so I figured I'd include my adventures in handling Emma's attackers. However, the moderation team for the site I'm posting this story on flagged the passage as "torture porn." How rude. It's not like I hurt these people for some kind of sick gratification. It was an entirely wholesome revenge scene. It's not "torture porn" when Simba tosses Scar to the hyenas.
Also, I'm a "fictional character." Is it really so unacceptable for a "fictional" person to enjoy their "fictional" payback?
While we're on the subject, could you readers please make up your minds about what's morally acceptable? When I started posting, it was all "Taylor is dangerous" and "she needs to be stopped before more people get hurt." Now every other message says something like "Taylor should kill that guy" or "I can't wait to see how Taylor will crush them."
What gives, people? I don't understand what you want. Has my core audience changed? Maybe I'm trying too hard to pander to trends.
Anyways, I've made some tweaks to adhere to the site's content policy. Hopefully the spirit of it still came through. Here we go.
Emma had been attacked by five people, and all of them had been arrested. With Sophia's help, getting their names and addresses hardly posed a challenge. Four men in their early to mid twenties, and one girl near my age. Interesting. Evil truly did come in all shapes and sizes.
Fortunately, all of them were all out on bail, so no prison-breaking was required. Hooray for the American legal system.
We stole a van from another ABB goon, because why not, and began the evening's festivities. Miss Contessa's Quick and Easy Abduction Method came in handy here. Just toss a big burlap sack over them, close it up, and pop them in the vehicle. Don't try this in real life, kids. I'm a professional with super powers.
I'm going to omit the actual kidnapping sequence, because honestly it wasn't that eventful. The most exciting part was planning the logistics to get everyone in one evening. As far as execution went, it was just grab and go.
Oh, one of them got a little squirrelly and I hit him with the Nerf bat. At "low" power, of course. He settled down pretty quickly after that.
Surprisingly enough, the girl, Yan, was the feistiest. She kicked and screamed in her Tactical Capture Bag the entire time we were driving her around. The actual thugs gave up after a few minutes. I guess they had a keener sense for futility.
Sophia and I brought our captives to an abandoned warehouse and tied them all firmly to chairs. I had a more elaborate setup in mind, but Sophia said that I was "having too much fun with it." Again, what is with the taboo against fun and violence? Sophia certainly seemed to delight in putting Nazis in the hospital, even permanently crippling them sometimes. And yet, somehow a bit of light crucifixion was taking things too far? Why? Was it the fact that these people couldn't fight back?
I supposed I could understand the distaste for hurting helpless prisoners, but honestly, all unpowered people were helpless against me. It didn't really make a difference if they were tied up or not.
In the end, I think it came down to differing mindsets. Sophia valued combat in and of itself, as a challenge and a way to prove herself. I saw violence as a means to an end. A chore that needed to be completed. Are you disappointed if your toilet doesn't put up a fight when you clean it?
Compromises, compromises. A bit frustrating, but oh well. Working within restraints just made the work more interesting.
Heh. Restraints.
I pulled off our party-goers' head-bags and slapped them to attention. I wore an especially creepy clown mask, as was tradition, and I loomed over them for full effect.
"Good evening, everybody! I've brought you all here because I heard you gentlemen, and lady," I said patting Yan on the shoulder, "like to play games. Would you like to play with me?"
The thugs stared at me sullenly. Yan growled and mumbled through her gag. I took her head and nodded with it vigorously. "So eager! Okay then, let's get started." I turned Yan to look at me. "So, I heard that you were excited to join the ABB. Is that right?" I reached to remove her gag and paused. "Just to warn you, I take a very dim view of rudeness. Okay, here we go." I took the gag off.
Yan worked her jaw slowly and took a deep breath. "What do you want?" she asked, her words slightly slurred.
I shrugged. "I want to get to know you better. Please answer the question. Are you excited about joining the ABB?"
She glanced over at the thugs, who eyed her in return. "Yes," she said colorlessly.
I clapped my hands together. "Fun! Have you completed your initiation yet?"
She glared at me. "No. What's this about?"
"I'm sure you'll figure it out. Now, since you haven't gone through your initiation, I figured I'd give you another way to prove yourself. Show that you're management material and all that." I gestured at the thugs. "The name of the game for tonight is choice. Here's the first one for you. Do you want to be my Game Master, or do you want to play with the rest of your friends?"
Yan had been pretty full of bravado, but I guess something about my tone tipped her off. Her voice quavered a little as she responded. "Um, what does that mean?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out. You've got to choose."
She looked at the thugs again and took a shuddering breath. "I won't… I won't turn on my people."
I laughed. "Oh, don't worry. You'll be playing either way. I'm sure your pals won't hold it against you." I raised a finger. "And if you aren't the Game Master, then I'll make all the choices. Although I guess leaving it up to me is also a choice."
Yan bit her lip, then nodded. "Fine then. I'll do it."
"Do what?" I asked, cupping my ear at her.
"I'll be your stupid game master."
"Great!" I said, clapping my hands together. "I'm sure you won't regret it."
I wandered over to the bound thugs and pointed at each of them in turn. "Now, I know you're all jealous that Yan gets a special role. However, you still have very important parts to play. I'm going to hand each of you a little quiz remote. Try not to drop them." I pulled the remotes out of my bag and snugged them into their hands.
"Okay, so, as you can see, these remotes have six numbered option buttons on them. You will be number one," I said, pointing at the thug on the far left. "You'll be number two," I said, pointing to the next one. "Number three, and number four." I pointed to the others in turn. I craned my neck to look at Yan. "Yan, you're number five, but you won't be playing in the first round."
I walked back over to stand at Yan's shoulder. "Alright, Game Master. Why don't you go ahead and pick a finger for us?"
"A what?"
"A finger. Pinkie, ring, middle, index, thumb. Pick one."
Her eyes widened and she leaned back as much as she could, bound as she was. "Hey, listen, I don't know what this is about, but I'm sorry, okay? You don't need to do this."
I hummed. "Scary, isn't it? Knowing that you're at someone else's mercy. Knowing they could hurt you and there's nothing you can do about it. Spooky."
"Please, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"You mentioned that. Pick a finger. Or I'll use you for illustrative purposes."
"Oh my God… um, shit. Fuck. Pinkie?"
"An excellent choice, Game Master. Pinkie it is." I swept my arm to indicate the thugs. "Now, you boys have your quiz remotes, and your numbers, so vote wisely. You have thirty seconds. Remember, the finger of the round is pinkie." The thugs looked left and right, sizing each other up. "Oh, and if you don't push a button, you'll forfeit your vote to Yan here."
I watched on my app as two votes flashed on my screen. I heard a clatter and glanced up. One of the thugs had thrown his remote on the ground and jutted his chin at me challengingly.
"Tough guy, huh? Let's see how that strategy works out for him," I said cheerfully. A third vote popped up on my screen. "And… time. Okay, let's see the results." I turned my phone to face them, then Yan. "Looks like it's a three-way tie on our first round, everyone! Three votes cast, one for number four, one for number two, and one for number one. And since you, sir, have forfeited your vote to our Game Master, she will now decide." I pointed at Yan. "What say you?"
Yan licked her lips. "Um, what happens if I vote for Lao? I mean, number three. Wouldn't that still make it a tie?"
"Thinking strategically, I see. Clever. In the case of a tie at the end of a round, everyone takes a penalty." I waggled my finger at her. "So I'd suggest that you push the tally over." Her eyes darted to the thugs, and I tapped her on the nose. "No, no. They had their chance. It's your turn. Consider it a test of your decisiveness."
"Um, number one, then. Sorry, Sugita," Yan said, wincing. Sugita grumbled around his gag but otherwise sat still.
I rang a little bell that I brought. I could feel Sophia's glare on me from the shadows. She had to let me have some fun. "Alright then! Number one it is. Number one, you now have your choice of left or right pinkie. If you don't choose, I'll assume that you want to pick both."
Sugita took a deep breath, then lifted his left hand.
"Decisive. I can respect that in a criminal," I said. I made a gesture. Sophia stepped forward and went snicker-snack, as Lewis Carroll would say, and Sugita howled through his gag.
See, this was why Sophia was so amazing. Well, one of the many reasons why. Despite her reservations about the mission, she was still unflinchingly supportive.
I promptly dressed Sugita's mysterious wound which I won't describe in any sort of detail. All I'll say is that if these goons were so attached to their hands, they should have kept them away from my friend.
I strolled back over to Yan. Her breath came shallow and fast, her eyes glassy.
"Okay, onto round two!" I said, resetting the vote tally on my app.
"Why are you doing this?" Yan asked, tears cutting down her face.
What a farce. Second-rate bullies are always so predictable. This girl didn't have any problems acting like a hardened criminal when she had the upper hand and a bunch of low-lives at her back. But now that she was in a pinch, it was all waterworks and self-pity. Pathetic.
"Who knows?" I said, tapping the chin of my mask. "It seems so senseless, doesn't it? Now, I want you to pick another finger. Keep in mind that you're going to be in the voting pool this round. As a reminder, Yan is number five," I said, projecting my voice to the others.
"Please," Yan gasped. "I'll do anything. Please."
"I bet you would," I said. "But there's only one thing I want from you."
I tucked a remote into her hand.
"Choose."
><><<>
Hebert hummed to herself as she tossed their darkly stained gloves and shoe coverings into a trash bag. She paused and turned. "Hey, Sophia?" Sophia grunted in acknowledgment and Hebert fidgeted. "I'm sorry for being so dismissive about your way of doing things. I didn't think that traditional violence would be… sufficient, but you've really opened my eyes to new horizons. I appreciate how patient and supportive you've been through this whole adventure."
Sophia glared for a moment at Hebert's vaguely horrifying nonsense, then sighed. "I don't—" She shook her head. "Don't mention it, Hebert."
Hebert beamed. "It goes without saying, but if there's anyone in your life who needs a little, you know," Hebert said, curling her fingers into a "strangling" gesture, "then please confide in me. I won't ask any questions. Your enemies are my enemies. I'll crush them all for you." Her smile took on a savage edge as she made a fist.
A confusing mixture of emotions washed over Sophia, and she froze while her heart raced to catch up. She fumbled for an appropriately cutting reply, but her contempt and sarcasm fizzled, swept away by feelings she couldn't name. The snide words died on her tongue.
All she could say was, "Alright. Thanks."
And it wasn't so bad.
><><<>
I had just finished up practice with my relay partners and was reaching for a water-bottle when I sensed a spike of harmful intent. Some people might say that I'm taking dramatic license here, but I swear that I had developed a sort of sixth sense when it came to ill will directed at my person. It was like I had become some sort of hyper-specialized predator that had adapted its perceptions to an ecological niche. Or maybe I was the prey. I don't know. Sophia is better at these animal kingdom metaphors.
Anyways, I turned my head and found that my instincts had not betrayed me. Emma approached, her eyes full of wrath.
I hopped off the bleachers and started back-pedaling. "Uh, hi Emma. How's it going?"
"Why are you running, Taylor?"
"You look angry, and I'm scared," I replied.
Emma narrowed her eyes at me. "Don't make me chase you, bitch."
"Yes, ma'am," I said, promptly taking a seat.
Emma took a deep breath and took firm hold of the place between my neck and shoulder. "Do you know why I'm upset, Taylor?"
"No?" There were several possibilities but no benefit in admitting them.
"Really? Not a clue?" Emma asked with a poisonously sweet smile. I shook my head mutely. Emma's mask dropped and she stared at me with dead eyes. "Alright, then. What do you think you're doing, filling up Madison's head with all that weird shit about manipulating people?"
Madison, you treacherous bottom, I thought, cursing the weakness of our kind. Of course Madison had spilled the beans to Emma. That was normal. However, I still resented the inevitable betrayal.
"I'm just trying to help her," I said, holding my hands up in surrender. "She wanted to learn how to defend herself."
"Defend herself?" Emma asked, her brows pulling down incredulously. "How? By stalking people until she finds weaknesses to exploit?"
I raised an index finger in objection, then paused. "I may have possibly… gotten carried away with my advice."
"You think?" Emma shook her head. "Listen, I know that your heart is in the right place." She paused. "Sort of. You want to protect me, and I appreciate that. That's why I've never asked too many questions about the crazy shit you get up to. But you cannot get Madison involved. I'm pretty sure she's the only one in our group who isn't some kind of psycho, and I mean to keep it that way."
"Well, actually, Madison's got a bit of a—"
"Ah!" Emma said, raising a finger in warning. "Shut it. Madison is an adorable, perfect angel. I won't have you infecting her. Is that clear?"
"Well, sure. But I don't think you're doing her any favors by babying her."
"Oh, shut up. She can learn how to stand up for herself without you taking her on as an apprentice in your bizarre… things that you do," Emma said, gesturing ambiguously.
"I wasn't going to make her an apprentice," I mumbled. "She would have developed her own style."
Emma pointed an menacingly sharp nail at me. "I'm serious, Taylor. I'll make you regret it." I cracked a tiny smile, confident in my resistance to girl-based cruelty. "Oh, you think that's funny, huh?" Emma asked.
"I mean… a little," I said, snickering.
Emma folded her arms. "I see. You think I'm an idiot."
"W-what? No! Emma, come on."
"I'm not one of your bullies, Taylor," Emma hissed. "I know you. If I decide to make you suffer, we won't be playing your game. You'll be miserable for real. Understand?"
I leaned back, biting my lower lip. "Emma…" I breathed.
Emma blinked, then her face went blank. "Taylor, don't you dare enjoy that threat."
Oh God, she's really pissed now. This is incredible.
SHUT UP, BAD TAYLOR!
"I'm… not?" I tried. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.
"Bullshit. You're blushing. A lot. Cut it out."
"I'm sorry! I can't!"
"Taylor, we're having a serious conversation," Emma said flatly. "Control yourself."
"That tone isn't helping!" I cried, covering my face with my hands.
Emma glared at me for a few more seconds, then sighed and sat down next to me. "Taylor, calm down. I'm not going to do anything to you."
"O-okay. Sorry." I took a few deep breaths.
"It's fine. Just… please don't corrupt Madison. Alright?" Emma said, patting me on the shoulder.
I pursed my lips. "Not even to give her more fashion tips?"
Emma raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"You remember the thigh socks?" I asked.
Emma nodded, a faraway look on her face. I waited for her to think for a moment, then she stared at me. "You told her to do that?"
I grinned. "I know you, too."
Emma's eyes narrowed. After a few seconds she sighed. "Don't corrupt her too much."
><><<>
AN: Thanks to @Elpis and @somnolentSlumber. You people know what you did.
- Location
- Xen
- Pronouns
- Vortigaunt
A small amount of corruption is good.
A person who lives with 100% good is a weak human. Humans need a little bit of bad to advance, to stay strong, to stay on the edge.
That's why before every breakfast Taylor puts a small amount of arsenic in her cereal. Every time Sophia insults Taylor she becomes stronger.
Madison needs to be corrupted in order to properly self actualize.
A person who lives with 100% good is a weak human. Humans need a little bit of bad to advance, to stay strong, to stay on the edge.
That's why before every breakfast Taylor puts a small amount of arsenic in her cereal. Every time Sophia insults Taylor she becomes stronger.
Madison needs to be corrupted in order to properly self actualize.
Raiseth
I Find Your Lack of Memes Disturbing
- Location
- Russia
I think this is the most disturbing imagery in this chapter.
… yeah, Taylor is kind of fucked up. More impressively, she reaches Worm levels of fuckedness despite not having Triggered. Very egalitarian of her.
Sophia is creeped out. Sophia is creeped out.
Ah wait, no, my mistake. She's alright.
*snort*
…
- Location
- Space
This Taylor continues to be best Taylor, so impossibly sadistic and masochistic at the same time that is a beauty to behold
Firedon
Lazy Sleepy Cat
- Location
- Germany
This is such a great line.
Mirriam Grave
The Bemused. The Amused. The Unstable.
- Location
- The edge of a point.
For a moment or two, I was questioning myself as to why Contessa wrote such a thing, and how Taylor got ahold of it... Then I recall that Taylor actually MET and WORKED WITH Contessa in this fic before, and everything cleared up.
Sorry, it has been awhile. XD
The guys clearly understand that this is just how the Cycle goes. They do unto others, what is done unto them eventually.
But Yan is clearly just far too young. Why, she is just a young and stupid teenage girl!
I mean, what kind of teenage girl goes into a scenario preparing to truly and utterly ruining someone's life while torturing them to the point that they might genuinely commit suicide afterwards?
...please ignore Taylor's existence for this question.
I imagine if she were to Trigger naturally it would be the first caused by unfathomable elation, and provided by a very, very confused entity.
Raiseth
I Find Your Lack of Memes Disturbing
- Location
- Russia
[DESTINATION]
[AGREEMENT]
[TRAJECTORY]
[AGREEMENT]
[…WHAT THE FUCK]
punster lv1
Killjoy - cheerful shitposter - ignorant pedant
Subtle, yet evocative. These are some fine euphemisms.
That one word followed by a cut scene is pretty good at conveying the hopelessness of Yan's situation considering it's in Taylor's point of view.
They've come pretty far since their relationship begun.
I hope Emma can stay firm because that's how slippery slopes start.
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Taylor's already prepped it, it's more like a sheer cliff with an oil slick at the top.
- Location
- here
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Taylor, you useless lesbian...
Seriously, how does someone who sets up Saw-style mutilation games manage to still be adorable? Actually adorable, not Bonesaw-esc faux-cute creepieness.
Actually... related to the above, I know this probably isn't the kind of fic the S9 would show up in, but I can't help but wonder what they'd think of this Taylor? It's like she's simultaneously an ideal recruit and the last person they'd ever pick, at the same time. Absolutely no hesitation to torture, murder and mutilate others, but on the other hand her sole motivations are protecting the tiny circle of people she cares about and finding ways to get stepped on by scary hot ladies.
(...Now I'm picturing her and Crawler comparing... interests. God, why brain??
)
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him/They
Really looking forward to seeing what Taylor has in store for Dennis.
Also, liberal use of a Nerf bat as a bludgeon. Best power? I think so.
Also, liberal use of a Nerf bat as a bludgeon. Best power? I think so.
16
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Chapter 16
I nodded at Greg as I took a seat across from him at the library table. He flashed me a nervous half-smile, running a hand through his shock of messy blond hair.
"Hey, Taylor. What's up?"
I shrugged. "Not much. A bit busy. How've you been?"
Greg bobbed his head. "Fine. Been doing some 3D modeling. Oh, and I read that series you linked me."
"Nice," I said. "What'd you think?"
"It was pretty good. The art was dope." Greg bit his lip. "I felt bad for the childhood friend, but I knew there was no way she was going to…" Greg paused and glanced around, evoking a flutter of pseudo-parental pride in my heart. Scarcely a year ago, he wouldn't have even considered the social repercussions of loudly blurting out whatever came to mind. Now he was introspecting, and thinking before he acted. What a world.
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "She was never going to beat Lydia. I mean, come on. Buff succubus nun? How are you supposed to compete with that? I'm glad she got together with the Nephilim lady in the end, though."
I nodded. "I think they suited each other better, honestly."
Greg grunted. "I guess. So, uh, anyways," he said, spreading his hands, "what's this project you messaged me about?"
I cleared my throat. "Right. You mentioned that you were thinking about making a webcomic, yeah?"
"Maybe," Greg said, wincing. "I can draw, but I don't know if my writing is good enough."
I nodded. "Alright. Take a look at this and tell me what you think." I slid a folder across the table and he picked it up.
He flipped through the documents, blinking owlishly. "I mean, the premise isn't bad. And it's a rare pairing." He glanced up at me. "Are you into this sort of stuff? I thought you were more…" he said, making a vague gesture at me. "You know."
I shook my head. "It isn't for me, exactly, but I do need it made. And I need it to be as high-quality and engaging as possible."
Greg hissed a breath between his teeth. "Uh, well, I do owe you for that thing, so I'll do it if you want me to. But like I said, this isn't my… area of expertise. I doubt that I could do the story justice."
I leaned forward and made a Commander Calvert finger-bridging pose. "I have a specialist in mind for the writing; I just need you for the art. Can you do it?"
Greg hesitated, shuffling the papers, but after a few moments he nodded. "I'll do my best."
I smiled. "Glad to have you on board."
><><<>
Sophia lounged on the Wards' break room couch, tossing a phased baseball into the air and re-solidifying it at the peak of each throw. She preferred to get up close and personal in a fight, but armor-piercing projectiles were too useful of a tool to neglect. The key to using her ability this way was timing, especially with things like tranq bolts. Stop the phase too soon, and the bolt wouldn't penetrate. Stop it too late, and the bolt could pass through the target without delivering its payload.
She caught the ball and examined it. Could she pick and choose parts to phase? She hadn't really considered the possibility before, but she'd need every trick she could come up with if she wanted to keep helping Hebert with her insane crusade against the Empire. Sophia's power was nowhere near as strong as Hebert's in a straight-up fight, but she refused to be a sidekick. She would hold her own.
Sophia took a breath and focused, willing only the top half of the ball to fade into smoky shadow. The entire ball flickered like a candle flame, seemingly hesitating at the border between substantial and… not. Sophia frowned and re-doubled her efforts. Only the top half. The top half will phase, the bottom half won't. Do it. The ball flickered more erratically, patches of solidity blinking across its surface before rapidly fading away. Do it. You're my power. Do what I say.
The bottom portion of the ball condensed and began to swirl more sluggishly than the top, but stubbornly refused to give her the even split she demanded. She glared. Sophia could feel that what she wanted was possible. She just had to build up the muscle memory — or whatever the cape power equivalent of that was — to get it right.
After a few more seconds, she lost patience and her focus wavered. The ball snapped back to full solidity. She growled and winged the ball across the room, nearly clipping Hebert in the head as the girl walked in from the kitchen area.
Hebert casually plucked the ball out of the air with one hand and raised a bagel to her mouth with the other. "Are we playing fetch?" she asked, blinking slowly at Sophia.
Sophia made a lazy "give it" gesture and Hebert trotted over to obey. She handed over the ball and knelt down beside the couch, her eyes shining expectantly. Sophia snorted. "Go away."
"So mean," Hebert said, her lips twisting into a weird pout-smile. She promptly laid down on the floor right next to the couch and continued nibbling on her bagel.
Sophia sighed. Seeing Hebert act her usual idiotic self almost made Sophia doubt her memories from a few nights ago.
The gritty feeling of steel biting through bone. Muffled screams and oozing blood. Hebert humming to herself as she neatly dressed another wound.
Sophia closed her eyes. She didn't know why these thoughts kept bothering her. She had done worse than chop a few fingers off gangsters. So what was the problem? Was it because she had hurt people who couldn't defend themselves? Sophia shook her head.
Truly violent criminals came in basically two flavors: the ones who used violence as a tool, and the ones for whom hurting people was the whole point. Assholes like the ABB thugs who attacked Emma, who tormented others just to get off on their suffering, didn't deserve social contract privileges. Welcome to the jungle, motherfuckers.
Sophia winced. Now that Emma was her friend, Sophia couldn't help but consider how poorly things might have gone if she had waited any longer for the girl to prove herself against her attackers.
Sophia took a deep breath and released it slowly. She needed to get her head back on straight. With a sigh, she got up off the couch, narrowly avoiding stepping on Hebert's face as she did so. The girl made an odd whining sound and Sophia glanced at her.
"I'm going on patrol," Sophia said.
Hebert perked up and rose to a kneeling position. "Sure! Meet you by the elevator?"
Sophia shook her head. "Think I'm going solo tonight."
Hebert drooped in disappointment, sending a bolt of inexplicable guilt through Sophia's gut. "Oh. Uh, okay," Hebert said. "Have fun."
"Yeah, sure," Sophia said gruffly, turning away. She made her way back to her room and geared up. Securing the straps on her armor, she nodded.
Time to kick some ass.
<@>
Sophia glided from building to building, abusing her Breaker form to squeeze out extra distance from her jumps. From the ground, her silhouette was nearly invisible against the night sky.
Tonight, she hunted Nazis.
She and Hebert had scored a win by capturing Krieg, but the work was far from done. The Empire had been swinging dick to try and show everyone they were still top dog; their capes had been patrolling in force, and thugs had vandalized a few "ethnic" storefronts on the furthest outskirts of the gang's territory.
While Sophia wasn't dumb enough to go after an Empire cape patrol on her own, she could sure as hell show the rank and file skinheads that they couldn't harass innocent civilians with impunity. She began a looping route along the northwestern edge of Nazi-Land, keeping an eye out for anything a white trash goon might consider an acceptable target.
She cleared a gap with a small phase-jump and carefully materialized onto a window ledge. She phased a pair of climbing stakes into the brick facade of the building and with a rhythmic flickering of effort, she scaled the wall. Phase in, solidify, pull up, phase out. She hauled herself over the edge of the roof and rose to a crouch.
Her vantage point gave her a clear line of sight to a few potential targets, so she flicked on the police scanner built into her mask's HUD and settled in for a stakeout. If nothing happened in the next hour or so, she'd move on.
After about ten minutes of nothing, Sophia dug into her pack for something to see if she still had anything to eat. She frowned as she felt an unfamiliar plastic container in her bag and fished it out.
It was a Tupperware container with a folded piece of paper rubber banded to the lid. Sophia's eyes narrowed and she opened the paper. She groaned as she read the message neatly written on it.
Good luck fighting crime! Don't forget to eat something healthy now and then!
-Avalon
She opened the container and sighed. Inside were blueberries and a handful of sliced strawberries, neatly separated by a divider in the center. They didn't even have the decency to look unappetizing. So with practiced diligence, Sophia disregarded how Hebert managed to get the container into her bag — along with the blatantly domestic nature of the situation — and ate the damn fruit.
Sophia patiently kept her vigil on the rooftop for a while longer until a notification popped up in her mask's interface, a police dispatch call for an address about four blocks away.
Let's see… vandalism, possible fire? Could be Empire. And the cops'll probably take their sweet-ass time responding in this neighborhood.
Sophia made a few roof-hops then dropped to the ground, a quick shadow-flicker breaking her fall. She took off at a run and checked her map as she made her way to the crime scene.
Fuck, I wish I had a motorcycle like Armsmaster and Militia. The skinheads will probably be gone by the time I get there.
She quickened her pace. After a few minutes, she hustled around a corner and spotted smoke billowing out of a storefront, its street-facing windows all shattered. A few Empire tags and poorly drawn swastikas littered the ground, but there was no sign of those who did it.
Sophia glanced at the signage. A barbershop. A completely inappropriate urge to laugh bubbled up inside her.
Working hard protecting the white race, you pieces of shit. Can't let minorities have a fucking barbershop. Give them that and it's a slippery slope to the Great Replacement.
Sophia snarled and took off down a side alley. The fuckers could still be nearby. She was just about to exit on the far side when the pop-crack of gunshots echoed across the street. Sophia bared her teeth and started running. As she vaulted a chest high chain-link fence, she heard a metallic crash, followed by screamed profanities.
She skidded around a corner, crossbow drawn, to see Glory Girl holding a guy by the throat. His feet dangled from the ground as he futilely clawed at the heroine's grip. Sophia pushed down a pang of envy. She would never admit it, but she sometimes wished she had the strength to just effortlessly haul someone off their feet like that.
One time, Hebert choke-slammed a guy one-handed like she was spiking a volleyball. If Hebert hadn't used her weirdo damage-threshold thing, Sophia was pretty sure the guy's spine would've snapped. Sophia smiled. Honestly, Hebert needed to chill out. She couldn't fly off the handle every time someone called Sophia a mean name.
Sophia blinked and shook her head as Glory Girl turned to her, the heroine's stupid emotion aura blasting outwards.
Wow, she's so strong. And she looks fit. I wonder how she works out. And…
Sophia growled and compartmentalized the shit out of those thoughts and feelings.
"Cut it out with the mindfuck," she snapped.
Glory Girl's eyebrows rose, then she laughed and the intrusive feelings faded away. "Oh, hey Stalker. Would you mind sitting on these two? I'm gonna go run down the last one."
Two? Oh. Sophia spotted another skinhead halfway behind a dumpster, groaning as he clutched an arm against his chest.
"Fine," Sophia said. "Don't fuck around."
Glory Girl winked and tossed the thug she was holding onto the ground before zipping away. Sophia rolled her eyes and tranqed the one with the busted arm before searching them. A couple of knives, wallets, phones. Nothing too interesting. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a twisted piece of metal on the ground. She picked it up gingerly and turned it over. A gun, or what was left of it.
Sophia sneered. "You idiots tried to shoot Glory Girl?" she asked, kicking the conscious one in the ribs.
"F-fuck you," he gasped.
"Guess you're lucky I'm here to save your sorry ass," Sophia said, making a "wiping away tears" gesture against her mask with a closed fist. "Otherwise she would've bounced you all the way down the street."
The skinhead tried to spit defiantly but only managed to drool on himself a little. "Eat shit."
Sophia crouched down, smirking as she noted a darkening spot on the front of his jeans. "Aw, did the big bad cheerleader make you piss yourself? Guess you're not the master race's bravest soldier. Still, you should show some courtesy. When someone does you a favor, you say 'thank you.' So go on. Say, 'thank you, Shadow Stalker, for saving my pathetic waste of a life.'"
The skinhead just glared at her, rubbing at his throat.
"Nothing? Figures." Sophia shrugged, stood, and shot him. With a tranquilizer bolt, of course.
In short order Glory Girl hovered back into the alley, dragging a cursing man by his ankle. "Got him! He was pretty squirrelly. He did, like, some parkour flips towards the end there."
Sophia rolled her eyes and tranqed him. Glory Girl gasped. "Hey! I was going to interrogate him!"
"You mean choke him out and yell questions at him?" Sophia said, punching in a request for prisoner pickup into her communicator. "Waste of time." She had grudgingly come around to Hebert's point of view on the topic of "field interrogations," at least in terms of their value at gathering intelligence.
It was definitely fun to slap around random mooks, but it rarely provided information usable in the long term. There were far more effective ways of gathering intel.
Glory Girl huffed and tossed the freshly tranqed Nazi on top of the others. "Fine, whatever." She glanced towards the street. "Where's Avalon?"
Sophia narrowed her eyes. "She's back at HQ. Why?"
Glory Girl shrugged. "Oh, no reason. I just thought you two were, you know…" She looked at Sophia and cleared her throat. "Never mind."
Sophia scowled, refusing to unpack that exchange. "Whatever. I called for pickup on these idiots, so we can leave as soon as they get here."
"Sure, sure."
Sophia folded her arms and looked away.
Fucking Glory Girl.
The New Wave girl represented almost everything Sophia despised about "heroism," with her flashy costume and attention-seeking celebrity attitude. The only reason Sophia tolerated her was because they shared a hatred of Empire Eighty-Eight and a willingness to use violence when necessary.
"So, did you actually see these dipshits fleeing the scene?" Sophia asked.
Glory Girl nodded. "Yep. One of them was tossing a spray paint can. And this genius," she said, lightly kicking one of the goons, "tried to shoot me when I chased them down. So even if seeing them running away isn't enough, we should still be able to get him on attempted murder. Or assault with a deadly weapon. Something."
Sophia shrugged. "Works for me."
The police showed up and took the prisoners. They actually bothered to take a statement and write it down before fucking off, which was about the best you could expect from cops.
Glory Girl hovered a little closer. "Well, nice working with you. You gonna keep at it?"
Sophia scoffed. "Empire's all over the place right now. We can't afford to—" Sophia's phone buzzed and she paused. "Hold on." Glory Girl shrugged and gestured for her to take it.
Sophia pulled out her phone. A text message from Mom.
When are you coming home?
Need you to watch your sister.
Sophia scowled and punched in a reply.
On patrol.
Can't Terry do it?
A pause, and then:
Don't take a tone.
Family comes first.
You don't need to be doing this thing of yours every night.
Sophia restrained herself from throwing her phone across the alley.
Why the hell do you think I'm out here? I'm protecting our damn family! Every one of these fuckers that I take off the street is one less that can hurt us.
She took a deep breath before responding. Can't come home. Figure something out.
Sophia forcefully jammed her phone back into her pocket and turned to Glory Girl. "You down to fuck up some more Nazis?"
The other heroine grinned, her expression almost feral.
<@>
I examined myself in the reflection of a window as I stood on the doorstep of the Hess household. I didn't have quite the level of fashion know-how as Emma or Madison, but I knew how to dress to give a particular impression. Some bullies fixated on clothing as a way to establish social dominance over their victims, while others could be more effectively provoked if their targets dressed "above their station," as it were.
It all depended on the situation. Did I want to look cocky? Harmless? Madison provided an excellent natural example of the latter. Her "cutesy" style put her at odds with jealous mate-guarders who thought she was trying to manipulate or "steal" boys with a childish persona.
Dedicated as I am to the art of bully-baiting, I've still never gone for the angle of inciting romantic jealousy. That sort of thing has a tendency to get out of hand. And, well, boys are… fine, and I can appreciate them aesthetically, but pretending to be seriously attracted to them is another matter entirely.
In any case, we've wandered afield of the scene. For this interaction with Mrs. Hess, I had decided to wear a calf-length skirt with a subtle plaid pattern, topped with a light button-up sweater and a pair of slightly larger than normal glasses. I looked like a librarian; that was the image I wanted to present. Serious. Bookish. Reliable. Someone who you could count on to babysit a young child and potentially also marry your bewitchingly sadistic daughter in the future.
Satisfied with my appearance, I squared my shoulders and pressed the doorbell. After some muffled thumping and rustling from inside the house, Mrs. Hess threw open the door. Her gaze fell on me, her eyes a touch wild, and she put a hand to her chest.
"Oh, Taylor. Thank you for coming. Come on in." She took me by the shoulder and shepherded me inside with maternal efficiency. I followed, somewhat bemused. I knew that Sophia and her mother didn't get along, but I hadn't really gotten to know Mrs. Hess that well. I had initially been focused on handling Stephen. Fortunately, he had since separated from the Hess family of his own accord.
Yes, really. Not everything is some sort of sinister plot, readers. As far as I knew, Stephen had simply decided to move on. Some people have no conviction when it comes to matters of the heart.
Anyways, if I had to describe Sophia's mom from a first impression, I'd have to call her "matronly." No nonsense, focused, self-certain. She seemed exhausted, but in a… determined way. As Mrs. Hess sat me down and explained my duties as an impromptu babysitter, she left me with no doubt that she had a particular way of seeing and doing things. I could see how that might rub Sophia the wrong way.
Mrs. Hess patted me on the shoulder. "Thank you again for doing this on such short notice, honey. I asked Sophia, but…" She shook her head and sighed. "I don't know how to get through to that child."
I perked up, unable to resist discussing my favorite topic. "There are a few ways. How did you phrase your request?"
Mrs. Hess blinked. "Beg your pardon?"
I cleared my throat. "Well, as you probably know, Sophia doesn't respond well to demands or appeals to emotion. If you want to get her to do something, you usually have to make her feel like it was her idea in the first place."
"I don't…" Mrs. Hess shook her head. "I shouldn't have to trick my child to get her to do what she ought to be doing anyways."
I shrugged. "I understand your frustration, but pushing her will only make her dig her heels in. She's independent. Proud. If you come at her from a position of authority, she'll treat it as a challenge."
Mrs. Hess folded her arms and fixed me with a stony look. "I'm her mother," she said, in a tone as if she had just invoked scripture. "I am an authority."
I held out a hand reassuringly. "I'm not suggesting otherwise. All I'm saying is that Sophia is very sensitive to matters of respect. She's…" I paused, tapping at my chin. "Sophia is like a cat. You have to respect her space. Let her come to you. Otherwise, she'll feel cornered and lash out," I said.
Mrs. Hess opened her mouth, no doubt to protest, so I cut her off. "That doesn't mean you have to let her do whatever she wants. It just means you have to approach interactions with her in a certain way." I made a beckoning gesture. "Can you show me an example of a conversation you've had with her?"
Mrs. Hess' brow crinkled. "What, like texts?" I nodded. She gave me a skeptical look that reminded me of Sophia when she suspected I was messing with her. "Why?" she asked.
I considered providing her with a palatable lie, but her aura of maternal scrutiny made me hesitate. The truth, then. Or at least something that resembled it.
"I… care for Sophia. Greatly," I said, wringing my hands a little. "I find it unfortunate that you two are at odds, and I'd like to help if I can." My neck prickled and I resisted the urge to scratch it. Was I allergic to honesty?
Mrs. Hess stared at me for several agonizing seconds, her expression unreadable. Then she sighed and fished her phone out of her purse. She unlocked it, tapped the screen a few times, then handed it over to me.
I read the text exchange and smiled wryly. "Ah, I see. You've made a few common mistakes. Understandable, given how Sophia responded, but you have to keep a cool head even when she gets like this." I raised the phone up and indicated a message. "See, when she snapped at you here, there were a few ways to deflect her aggression and retake your position. Sophia will only—"
A text message came through and I handed the phone back to Mrs. Hess. She read the text and grimaced, hastily stuffing the device in her purse.
"I've got to go," she said. "Work." She glanced at me over her glasses. "You have everything you need?"
"Yes ma'am," I said, nodding. "I'll take good care of Abby."
"Thank you," she said, sighing. She turned to leave and paused, looking back at me. "Would you mind if we continue our, uh… conversation, later?"
I smiled. "I'm always happy to help."
<@>
"Come on," Glory Girl said, hovering closer. "I know it's a little embarrassing, but it'll be so much faster."
"Hell no," Sophia said. She stepped back and jabbed a finger in the other girl's direction. "Keep your damn hands to yourself."
Glory Girl rolled her eyes. "You're not gonna be able to keep up with me on foot. Quit being a baby and let me carry you."
"Fuck off," Sophia spat. "It's not happening. Period." If someone posted a picture of another heroine carrying Sophia like a goddamn blushing bride, her rep would never recover.
Glory Girl sighed. "Whatever. Split up, then?"
Sophia glared for another couple seconds before shrugging. "Fine." She pulled up a map on her Ward phone and indicated a few areas. "I'll head up this way, come around the west side. You circle around the opposite side." She held out an earpiece and pulled it back as the other heroine reached out. "This is so we can keep in touch. Don't lose it. Or break it."
Glory Girl rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I won't break your toy."
Sophia scowled. "You're not the one who'll get bitched at for 'mishandling government property' if it gets busted."
The blonde snorted. "Believe me, I get plenty of lectures about property damage from my mom."
Sophia grunted and handed over the earpiece. "Tap the side when you want to—"
Glory Girl waved her off. "I've used one of these with Gallant before."
"Good. If you see something, hit me up. Otherwise, we'll go block by block and meet here, in the middle." Sophia pointed at a major intersection on the map. "Then we'll move on to the next sector. Alright?"
"Sounds like a plan," Glory Girl said, floating up a few feet. "Try not to keep me waiting too long, huh?" she said, smirking.
Sophia flipped her off and jogged away, pointedly not rushing as she made her way to the west side of the search area.
I'm getting a fucking motorcycle. I'll steal one from the gangs if I have to.
Unfortunately, it seemed that the roaches had gotten the memo to skitter back to their nests, because every street Sophia searched was conspicuously quiet. She gritted her teeth and finished her grid search, making her way to the meeting point.
As she came up the street, Glory Girl waved at her from atop a street light. "Hey! Took you long enough."
Sophia ignored the childish provocation with practiced ease. Hebert could be far more aggravating just by saying "good morning." She cleared her throat. "Didn't see anything?"
Glory Girl shrugged. "Nope. You neither?"
Sophia exhaled, considering. "No. Pretty sure the skinheads got word out about us. We're probably not going to find any more of them fucking around on the street."
Glory Girl tapped her chin. "Well, I guess that's good? Got 'em running scared."
Sophia scowled. The girl had a point, but Sophia hadn't done anything tonight beyond mopping up goons who had already been captured. She refused to just go home without actually fucking up some skinheads with her own hands.
"I might have a line on a few places we could hit," she said slowly. Sophia would never admit it, but Hebert had been onto something with all the bugs they had been planting. Over time, they had yielded some surprisingly useful intel.
Sophia couldn't imagine combing through all the useless shit in the recordings like Hebert did, though. You'd think that violent criminals would lead exciting lives, but it turned out that they were even more mind-crushingly banal than "normal" people.
Glory Girl nodded and glided down to the street. "Well then, what're we waiting for?"
Sophia paused. She was supposed to hit those locations with Hebert, but what difference did it make? Nazis needed to get hit sooner or later; Sophia was just leaning towards "sooner" for these ones.
"Alright, follow me."
<@>
"So from what we've gathered, this is a major stash house. I scoped it out and confirmed ten guys inside." Sophia said. She pulled up some blueprints on her phone. It was a standard residential building, so they weren't hard to get her hands on. "Here's the layout of the building. You'll go in through this entrance, while I—"
"Whoa, you seriously have blueprints?" Glory Girl asked, leaning over.
Sophia scowled at the interruption. "Yes."
"Huh. It's just a two story residential, right?" Glory Girl pointed at the screen. "Only points of ingress are… front door, back door, and windows. No basement. Nothing too complicated."
Sophia nodded. "Right. I didn't see any capes, so it should be pretty straightforward. A few of these guys are probably strapped, but that shouldn't be a problem for you, right?"
The New Wave heroine visibly hesitated. "Uh, yeah. I should be fine."
Sophia narrowed her eyes. "You sure? I'm not gonna ask about your powers, but—"
"It won't be a problem," Glory Girl said firmly. "We just need to hit them fast and take them down before they know what's happening."
Sophia grunted, but let it go. "We can do that." She looked Glory Girl in the eye. "But no bodies. I don't care what else you do, just leave them breathing. I'm not gonna have the PRT on my ass over dead Nazis. Got it?"
Glory Girl smirked. "No problem. If we get a little too enthusiastic, my sis can patch them up before they bite it." Sophia side-eyed her and the heroine chuckled awkwardly. "Just kidding. I'm not a maniac."
Sophia sighed. "Whatever." She pulled the phone back up. "Most of them are in the family room here," she said, pointing. "You should be able to just come in through the front door and hit them all right there. I'll take the back door and snag anybody who rabbits. Then we head upstairs and clear the top floor. Alright?"
Glory Girl bobbed her head. "Yup, sounds like a plan." She gave a sloppy salute. "On your signal, captain," she said, drifting away towards the sky above the street.
"Why do I always have to be the adult?" Sophia muttered under her breath.
She looped around the block and crept through a backyard adjacent to the target. The idiots guarding the stash hadn't bothered to post any lookouts outside. Understandable, considering that these guys had no reason to believe that anyone even knew about the spot, let alone that they might be attacked by capes. However, they'd still be paying for their sloppiness.
Sophia phased through a fence and made her way to the back door, staying low to avoid the windows. She crouched against a wall and flicked on the improved vision lenses on her mask.
Armsmaster had built the original lenses into her mask to highlight electrical currents, but Chris had added a few extra features. Full x-ray, infrared, night vision. He even included a mode that detected sound vibrations on glass and translated it into speech.
Sophia didn't know why Chris had suddenly taken an interest in her gear, but she suspected Hebert's involvement. She had hoped that Hebert would just forget about their bet, but deep down she knew that wasn't going to happen. The girl was obsessive, and bizarrely resourceful when it came to pursuing whatever she got in her head.
If Hebert really put her mind to revamping the Wards, Sophia knew it would only be a matter of time. And then…
What'll she ask me to do when she wins?
Sophia shook her head. She didn't have time for pointless speculation. Switching over to x-ray mode, she scanned the hallway and rooms closest to the back door. Kitchen clear, main office clear. Only one guy in the downstairs bathroom.
Wait. Is he…
Sophia snickered. She knew that these guys were sloppy, but she didn't expect to literally catch one of them with his pants down.
The rest were in the family room, as expected, watching TV. She couldn't see up into the second floor, but by process of elimination the rest had to be up there.
She tapped her earpiece. "I've got eyes on one in the downstairs bathroom and six in the family room. Three unaccounted for. Guessing they're upstairs."
After a moment, the speaker crackled. "Alright. Ready when you are," Glory Girl said.
Sophia snapped open her baton and readied herself near the door. "Hit it."
A thunderous crash sounded from the far side of the house, followed by screams. Sophia phased through the door and briskly made her way over to the bathroom. The unfortunate Nazi hadn't even fully risen from the toilet by the time she reached him.
Inspiration struck her, and she stepped forward with her baton extended. She phased her weapon through the bathroom door, and with a careful flicker of effort she solidified the end of the baton right into the skinhead's knee.
Physics protested the two objects occupying the same space, and Sophia's x-ray vision gave her a clear view of the Nazi's kneecap giving way. He screeched and collapsed, banging his head on the bathtub on the way down.
Huh. It worked. That's one.
Sophia paused for a moment to ensure that the man wouldn't get back up, then stalked further into the house.
Another massive thud from the family room, along with shouted curses and the crunch of breaking glass.
The thumping of hurried footsteps pounded towards her; she was ready and waiting when a heavily tattooed man rushed down the hallway, his eyes wide with terror.
Knee, elbow, collarbone, and the man was down. She jabbed him with a tranq arrow before moving on.
Two.
Another set of footsteps approached and Sophia readied herself again. However, as soon as the skinhead came around the corner, a flying armchair crashed into his back and face-planted him into a wall. He slid down to the floor with a weak groan.
"Have a seat," Glory Girl's smug voice said from the other room.
Sophia rolled her eyes and stepped out into a disaster zone. One goon laid motionless under a shattered flat-screen TV, while the others were strewn about the room, a couple with their limbs at unnatural angles. One unfortunate skinhead was even bent double over the stair banister.
Glory Girl met Sophia's gaze and beamed. "Hey, Stalker. I think I got 'em all. You catch the stragglers?"
Sophia grunted and pointed upwards. "Gotta clear upstairs."
The New Wave heroine nodded. "No problem. I'll handle it," she said, zipping up the staircase before Sophia could stop her.
"Fucking… ugh." Sophia booked it after her, drawing her crossbow. She caught up with the girl just in time to see her smashing into a side room. Booming gunshots rang out and Sophia instinctively went shadow.
Glory Girl screamed in rage, followed by splintering crashes. Sophia made a split second decision and moved to clear the other rooms rather than assist her partner. She leveled her crossbow and flicked her x-ray back on.
Sophia spotted a skeletal outline with its back to her, crouched over and facing the wall. She phased through the door and deactivated her lenses. A shirtless man paused in the act of trying to awkwardly clamber out the window, a duffel bag strapped to his shoulder.
He stared at Sophia.
Sophia shot him.
He gave her a baffled, almost indignant look, then slumped over, his left leg still hanging out the window. Sophia snorted and turned back to make sure Glory Girl hadn't curb-stomped some guy through the floor.
The other heroine met her halfway in the hall, clutching at her shoulder. Sophia blinked.
"Are you hit? How did that…" Sophia said, trailing off as Glory Girl grimaced and looked away. Most capes were understandably secretive about their weaknesses; Sophia sure as hell wouldn't want her vulnerability to electricity getting around.
She pulled out her med-kit and motioned for Glory Girl to come closer. The other girl hesitated, then glided over, pulling her hand off to reveal a shallow but still-bleeding wound high on her shoulder. Sophia wordlessly cleaned and dressed the injury, then cleared her throat.
"I didn't see anything," Sophia said, meeting the heroine's gaze. "Alright?"
Glory Girl took a shuddering breath. "I… thank you," she said. Sophia inclined her head. "Did you get the last guy?" Glory Girl asked, clearly forcing a casual tone.
"Yep," Sophia said. She scoffed. "Here, come check him out." She led her partner over to the other room. As they entered, she inhaled sharply. The guy was gone.
She rushed over to the window and stuck her head out. She scanned the street feverishly, and…
"Oof," Glory Girl said from right next to her. Sophia glanced at her and the heroine pointed straight down. Sophia followed her finger and spotted the man's motionless form sprawled out below in some shrubbery. Cash and drugs from the duffel bag lay spilled out atop him.
"Aw, shit," Sophia said. She looked to Glory Girl. "Go check if he's still alive?"
Glory Girl stared at her, then snickered. "Yeah, sure." She glided out the window and descended to the ground floor, bending over to check the man's vitals. After a moment, she looked up to Sophia and gave her a thumbs up. "We're good!"
Sophia put a hand to her chest with relief. That would've been embarrassing. "Bring him up so we can put him with the others," she called.
Glory Girl saluted and obeyed, pulling the man up with perhaps a little less care than should have been given to someone whose unconscious body had just fallen out of a second-story window.
In short order, the two of them piled up the skinheads and restrained any that still looked capable of moving, then stacked the hidden drugs, cash, and weapons from the stash into neat little piles.
Glory Girl called the cops, then dusted off her hands and nodded at Sophia. "So, uh… you wanna get some pizza? I'm kinda hungry."
Sophia narrowed her eyes. "You're buying."
<@>
Sophia sighed with relief as she noticed her mom's car was still absent from the driveway. She really didn't want to get into another argument about family responsibilities right now.
She made her way to the front door and eased it open quietly. Abby was a notoriously light sleeper, and if Sophia woke her up by coming in late, her little sister often got out of bed to come and greet her. Sophia crept down the hallway, carefully avoiding the squeaky floorboards.
She rounded the corner to the family room and blinked. Fucking Hebert, of all people, was sitting on her couch, reading by the light of a dim table lamp. Sophia opened her mouth to loudly demand an explanation, then closed it as she noticed Abby sleeping with her head on Hebert's lap.
Hebert put a finger against her thin lips and smiled. "I technically ought to have put her to bed by now, but she seemed so comfortable that I didn't have the heart," she murmured softly.
Sophia huffed and padded over to the couch to sit at Hebert's side. "My mom called you over to watch Abby?" She leaned over Hebert and gently brushed a lock of hair off her little sister's face.
Hebert hummed contentedly. "Mm, yes. Always happy to help. How was your patrol?"
Sophia felt a pang of… something, and hesitated for a second before responding. "Uh, fine. Busted a few Empire assholes."
Hebert nodded. "Did you have fun?"
Sophia shrugged. "Yeah, sure." She gave Hebert a once-over and snorted, plucking at the fabric of the girl's long plaid skirt. "What the hell are you wearing? You look like a damn librarian."
Hebert smirked and gestured to herself. "Do you like it? I wanted to make a good impression with your mother."
Sophia grunted. Hebert did look surprisingly nice dressed like this, not that Sophia would ever admit it. "Good luck. She's not exactly easy to impress."
Hebert chuckled. "Oh, I think we'll get along just fine."
Sophia paused and bit her lip. "Well, anyways, thanks for taking care of Abby. I just… I had to go out tonight."
Hebert patted Sophia's knee. "Of course," she said. And that was it. No questions, no pressure, just… acceptance.
They sat together for a while longer in warm silence until Sophia dozed off.
<@><@><@><@>
Shout out to @Ridtom for giving me a hand with Glory Girl character consultation, along with the members of the Gaylor Convention Center who gave me general beta help.
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- Location
- Canada
Hmm somehow I feel Taylor is going to be upset that glory girl joined SS. Glory may have an interesting meeting at some point.
WOOOO! So excited to see this story is alive!
