Taylor Hebert and Her Rather Sad Life: ECL 1.6
Taylor chose, after weighing the pros and cons of each option, to set up shop in the Boat Graveyard. It was remote, yes, but that same remoteness offered protection and anonymity. In Brockton Bay, everyone knew that only capes or gangs went into the Boat Graveyard; and the few figures she'd seen scurrying around the rusted titans of the graveyard stayed well out of her way. She sat on a disused chair, spinning as she thought. This place
could use some new stuff - probably some real furniture, and she'd have to knock a few walls down but it suited her purposes just fine. Out here, where anyone who couldn't fly needed a boat to get around, she could be safe to practice and experiment. There was also the other thought - that she could use parts of the ships in the graveyard to fuel her spell research. After all, marine salvage was worth quite a bit of money.
She focused on the form she'd brought with her, and the costume she'd purchased. It was just a basic, cliche starter costume, modified slightly to work with her physiology - lots of dark clothing suitable for fighting in and a very basic mask. She'd bought it from several different stores to disguise her purchases, and she haphazardly changed into it, then looked in the land mirror she'd brought with her.
She looked totally different, and much more like a real cape. Before putting her shirt on, she took a look at her new muscles and whistled in appreciation. She exuded a certain sort of power, lithe and fast; ready to explode into action at any minute. Grinning, she put the final parts of the costume in place and raised the cheap digital camera. She'd had to use the last of her savings on it, but it was an essential tool for any independant cape. Using the delay, she took the requisite photos. She'd have to go down to a police station to do the rest of it, and it was already dark. Taylor stashed her clothes, then locked the door to her lair and, with a single beat of her wings, leapt aloft.
She'd chosen one down near the boardwalk, because they had the staff to process the registration on hand all night. As she flew over the flickering city lights, she thought about her research on the local cape scene. Miss Militia hadn't been kidding when she said that the heros were outnumbered in Brockton Bay. Not only were they outnumbered, some of the villains were just plain dangerous. Lung had fought an
Endbringer to a draw, and the Empire-88 had a variety of versatile and psychopathic capes at their disposal.
The statics weren't so hot for independant heros either - most of them either died within the first six months, were recruited into a gang or joined a larger group of heros. Still, she was different from them - she had the versatility and raw power than none of Brockton Bay's failed independents had lacked. Or would have, anyway. She just had to to be careful for the first few levels. Also she had an autosave function, which while she wasn't eager to test it out, was something the failed independants likely didn't have either.
She neared the police station and landed in an alleyway. It stank vaguely of days-old garbage, just recently removed. Taylor moved forward swiftly, and as she neared the end of the alley the front of the police station exploded. Taylor flattened herself against a wall, and she felt the heat of the fire on her cheeks. The noise was deafening, and her ears rang as she tried to take stock of the situation. Gunfire could be heard, even through the ringing in her ears. She felt her heart beat wildly, and as her hearing returned she tried to calm herself.
She was a hero, and someone had just attacked a police station. She couldn't let herself be paralysed with fear now. She was needed, finally needed and she wasn't going to let anything stop her from answering the call.
Taylor went to the side door of the station, which opened on to the alley. It was locked, but figuring that nobody was going to hear her over the gunfire, she kicked it down. Inside the station was almost pitch black, with only the occasional flicker of light. A man stood in the corridor ahead of her, carrying a pistol and some kind of sheathed sword. A woman was dead beneath his feet, and with her darkvision Taylor could see the expression of pure, utter terror etched permanently onto her face. She felt sick, but she couldn't let herself falter now.
The man turned in response to the noise, but Taylor was faster. She was there before he could get a good shot off, and she leapt into a spinning kick that sent the man crashing to the ground. There was a nasty crack when his hand hit the ground at an awkward angle, but he'd live.
[+100 XP!] Exclaimed a pop up, and Taylor felt an odd kind of rush. There was tangible sensation of
moreness when she gained the xp.
The man's dropped weapon lay on the ground, and his sword - a japanese one, she noted - was still haphazardly attached to his hip. She could take either and expect to use them as if she'd trained with them, and her sky high ability scores would certainly help her here. She reached down to pick them up, but hesitated. Her fists only dealt subdual damage, and she could safely beat on people all she wanted with them.
If she picked up the weapons? She was going into lethal territory there. She might be able to heal them with her stance to stabilize them, but it'd be risky. People could die, and people would certainly be maimed.
Taylor made her mind up and...
[x] Picked up a weapon
[x] The pistol
[x] The sword
[x] Both
[x] Left the weapons where they lay.
