I'm of mixed views on reporter-guy. On the one hand he's not being a total ass, and is within his rights to do everything he's doing, on the other he's clearly leveraging everything as far as it can possibly go "by the letter of the law". Also, the bit with the amtrak station rubbed me the wrong way, it felt more like editorial and putting forward a negative agenda than reporting on facts. Furthermore, the time away to use the facilities is very suspicious, who did he call, and what did he set up while unsupervised while taking advantage of the good hsopitality being extended to him? I loved the chapter though, thank you!
Nom nom nom werdz. 😋 I'm a bit surprised by how well the reporter turned himself around in my opinion. The first bit had me thinking he'd be a dick and a ratings hog, but he's a ratings hog and a concerned native citizen. There's a decent bit of difference between the two. Happily waiting for the next chapter.
Its not over yet, he already came off as a dickish jerk, and some smooth talking now hasn't changed my opinion.
For all we know he went and dropped off some bugs. He already set it up like what's going on in the railyard is dangerous.
Having seen the apparently young cape being interviewed by nitwits on softball mode this morning, he was sure it would be literally child's play to get her confused and dishing everything within minutes. And all while he looked as innocent and compassionate as Mother Teresa.
This is who he is, when people show you who they are believe them~Maya Angelou.
Tho only we know of his intentions.
I really can't tell what you're trying to go for with this chapter's second scene. The first half of it displays a caricature of a journalist that is so bad it makes me wonder if your only exposure to the field of journalism is through cartoons and comic books, and while that's bad enough on its own that same caricature completely goes against their just-established personality and is suddenly and inexplicably mostly amicable and reasonable in the second half.
I mean first he starts out as extremely combative, and is going in with an obvious agenda of making Dispatcher look like a threat, a dangerously unstable cape with too much power taking territory for their new gang. That extreme level of bias would most likely have gotten him fired from any reputable news source shortly into his career, but you're saying he's been at this job, doing it just like this, for decades. "Arcadia High class of '78" implies that he's been in the journalism business for over thirty years at this point in the Worm timeline. Then to make it worse, he's coaching the people he's about to interview on what they are supposed to say? And he's been doing this for a news station for seemingly decades? Pull the other one, it's got bells on.
Now while all of this is bad, and so far under the quality of writing you've previously shown yourself capable of it's ridiculous, it's still forgivable. Good works have done the same type of stupidity, though they usually have a good excuse, or background reason, that the person is like that and not a total pariah due to their behavior.
...but then he starts screaming about the first amendment, as though they are some kind of magical incantation that makes harassment legally protected. The only people who would do such a stupid thing are dumb beyond compare, and have not even an inkling of understanding of the first amendment. That's incredibly hard to believe. Anyone who is in journalism, or who is even journalism-adjacent, would fully understand the first amendment after that many years, and would also understand that screaming insanely about how you have rights accomplishes absolutely nothing when you're at risk of being escorted off of the premises. The first amendment does not apply to the scenario in this scene in the slightest, unless you're saying Dispatcher is a member of the Federal Government with a legal responsibility to communicate and interact with citizens, and that she's currently speaking on the government's behalf.
Kudos for having the projection ask for this asshole's press credentials after being presented with this much belligerence, but quite frankly it would be more believable if the projection responded by having him escorted off the premises and then called the cops if he tried to come back. He started the conversation with slander, quickly advanced to outright harassment, did everything he could to present himself as a threat without actually making a verbal threat, and then continued with more slander, screaming about the first amendment like a lunatic throughout. All on camera. Unless the producer is an insane idiot, the instant he brought back and showed this footage he would have to start fearing for his job and the entire segment would be canned on the spot, because that footage is an instant loss in a slander and harassment lawsuit just waiting to happen.
It just does not match the quality of writing you have previously shown, and feels like you started writing the scene by giving up, then somehow gave up even more in the process of finishing it.
To get this to be even slightly believable, first you'd need to start by introducing some lore to explain how this insane moron still has a job and how the station he works for hasn't been sued into oblivion from all the times he must have done shit this stupid. Have laws been changed to make slander and harassment harder to prove or prosecute, and why would those changes exist? Then there needs to be some explanation of how he's still alive if he's been this much of a combative asshole while dealing with warzones and capes over multiple decades. After that you'd need to tone down the insanity by about three hundred notches, and finish up by cutting out the blatant harassment and slander.
This is what I am starting to like about the interactive opportunities permitted by SV. THANK YOU for your detailed feedback, Masked Critic!
First off, I take full responsibility for Stan Vickery. It was my idea to bring an element to the story that was not a caricature villain but also not totally copacetic about such a powerful new cape being accepted at face value and given free reign without question.
Second, this is the result of a writing collaborative between Patt and I. It evolved as it went, and people changed in the process. As I mentioned earlier, my characters evolve. That's part of the joy of writing them - to see them grow and change due to the pressures or influences they face in the story.
Third, I am not a journalist. My user name is descriptive of exactly what I am. If I did a poor job representing the profession, I will take my lumps. That said, I did not mean to suggest Patty and Sarah Livermore were being coached. In my mind, Stan had listened to their stories earlier in the day. He knew what they were going to say, but he in no way guided that story. He just gave them a microphone to share their views of being prevented from making their planned journey south. If I should have had a more in depth interview with more viewpoints, I'd like to hear your thoughts about how that should have played out. I didn't want to bore readers with reading views of half the planned ridership of the train that evening. What would have been a better balance?
My intention was/is to present someone who has seen a lot and who wants to get to the bottom of what is happening because he truly senses the potential for a threat and no one else seems to be performing investigative journalism. It represents a difference of approach between Patt and I. I am purposefully attempting to bring some element of mild tension into the story without harming Patt's wholesome optimism. Rather than bring in a scheming villain with a real chance to harm Taylor or damage her dream, I suggested a reporter being a nuisance while having a legitimate point when Taylor is viewed from the outside world of skeptics and those who have seen the damage parahumans can do. If I failed to effectively walk that balance, or if it is a balance this audience would rather not see and instead have this story be 100% non-dramatic, then I'm open to feedback.
To close, I said up front this isn't the story I usually write. But Patt and I love collaborating and he asked me to provide a push to help his muse. I truly am open to how better to serve my friend and his audience.
PS: Oh, and about the First Amendment, the trainyards are city property. The Constitution and its Amendments apply to all levels of government, even local. Stan wasn't indicating that the First was applicable to Dispatcher but rather the property she is currently operating on without leave or license. Stan had been granted such leave by the Mayor's office.
Later on Stan does come across more as an actual reporter trying to get to the bottom of things, the biggest problem stems from the early bits. He really reads like how a person who is delusional and thinks the media is trying to control the world (and is made of lizard people and whatever other insanity) thinks the media is like. In other words it's like a portrayal written by somebody who hates the demographic they're writing about yet has never actually met anyone from that demographic nor have they ever bothered to learn anything about them.
Sorry, my thoughts will be kind of out of order here, I'm flipping back and forth between pages and I'm already scatterbrained as a default, so...
Also distracted by somebody playing Mario 64 blindfolded at SGDQ, holy crap this is insane!
For the start of it all, I think you want to go more for a personality of "serious professional investigator with a burning need to know the truth," yes? For that, you need more focus on curiosity rather than suspicion, more skepticism than blatant suspicion. Rather than think of his peers as "nitwits" for only asking "softball" questions, he should think of his own regrets of not being there to ask the questions he felt were truly important; instead of thinking "there must be something evil going on and this is all a ruse!" he should be thinking "this all sounds too good to be true, what's the catch?". Also, less thoughts about being manipulative towards somebody all evidence he's seen so far says is a child, that just makes him come across as moustache-twirlingly evil instead of disbelieving.
As for the first amendment, it's best to just remove all references to it, because it's entirely irrelevant here. It has nothing to do with people being allowed on public property, there's no reason to be thinking about it when considering how to justify that you're not trespassing. All it serves to do is make him come across as unhinged.
For the interview that felt a bit like coaching, I'd have him say something more like "okay, just remember not to fucking swear while the cameras are rolling, alright?" A teenager would be more receptive to that sort of humor and casual swearing, and being able to connect with kids better helps show his experience dealing with people.
By saying "someone or some... thing..." he kind of comes across as a cape-hater. Dunno if that's intentional or not. The "something" should probably be removed if not.
One thing to remember when portraying professionals of just about any field: they don't go into that field because of the bad things they hear about it. People don't enter journalism because they want to harass and antagonize people (even if that's 99% of what the paparazzi do), they enter it because they want to find the truth, or they want the money, or they want to have the opportunity to travel to new places and meet new people -- they want the benefits, not the downsides. People don't become doctors because they want to keep people sick (no matter how much the entire health "industry" may feel like a giant conspiracy to take all our money at times), they become doctors to help people, or earn money. For a non-criminal antagonist, remembering that most people tend to fall between well-intentioned and neutral can really help them come across as more realistic.
I probably should have said these things before, as it's the majority of the constructive part of the constructive criticism I was trying to give, but I was a bit... incensed. The way you portray Stan at the start? I've seen people argue that all journalists are evil, self-serving monsters that think and act just like that, as an excuse for why the horrific assaults against journalists over the past few years are perfectly okay. Things like sending flashing images to journalists known to be epileptic, throwing crowd control weapons at a bystanding journalist, tackling people to beat them up... there are people who think it's all okay because of their delusional imaginings of what journalists are like...
It's interesting you caught that. Stan began as a gold digger in my mind, paparazzi wasn't far from what was in my head, but Patt's Corporal character kept chipping away as we RP'd the scene and I found myself creating his daughter and then his entire persona changed. I made an effort to go back and 'retcon' him prior to posting, but clearly my effort was insufficient. I hope the audience won't mind my renewed retcon effort to further correct his early portrayal. It likely will never be perfect, for example too much of the story collapses if I totally remove the First Amendment element, but I'll make an attempt because the effort you placed into your feedback deserves an attempt on my part to address your grievances.
Insofar as journalism, just as medicine is not some monolithic hive mind of like-minded individuals, neither is journalism. We have our annoying nitwits, or worse, and so does every other profession. We are also a product of the society around us, including being dragged along by circumstances outside our control (broken health finance system, anyone?). Without going into detail, I am from a demographic that is being terribly misrepresented by a portion of the journalism community...and about 45% of American society in general. I'm...sensitive. More so than I realized. You helped me recognize my internal bias and I am a better person for it. Again, that will help coach my efforts to course correct Stan's character. Rest assured, although it may remove some suspense to share this, Stan's later portrayal does represent a true change of heart. He'll play a role later providing Taylor an outlet to share some important information. He's a skeptic that turns, if not into a supporter once his anxieties are assuaged, someone who gives the benefit of the doubt while seeking the truth. My image now is the reporter from The Right Stuff.
I hope everyone will extend me their patience as I keep adapting to this style of storytelling, and Patt and I continue to fine tune our collaboration Again, I'm transparent. I'm acting a bit out of my comfort zone. If you like Puella Magi, Arpeggio, or Strawberry Panic, you can see my natural inclinations at my FFN account of the same user name.
... Queeestion.... Why would Amtrak run trains through a previously described as derelict with a lot of ripped up track? The interviewed people would have no bearing on the mothballed railway.
Don't worry, retcons are only bad when they come long after the point when the events happen. And are isolated to a single thing, instead of being a small part of a massive rewrite. In any other circumstances retcons are A-OK!
Thank you everyone for your criticism, support and replies. We really appreciate it. I've known @DrYuriMom for 10 years and we've worked together a lot over that period of time. She has my full trust and confidence. Both of us are improving our writing skills in different places through this project and we are happy to take your comments onboard.
You are most welcome! Sherrel ran in the opposite direction from the Trainyards during The Battle of Skidmark's Folly. That's a good name, why didn't I think of that before? She's hiding somewhere in the Boat Graveyard in the abandoned locomotive shed there. I'll be making a map of the Boat Graveyard section of the layout shortly. No chance of Sherrel being discovered for now.
... Queeestion.... Why would Amtrak run trains through a previously described as derelict with a lot of ripped up track? The interviewed people would have no bearing on the mothballed railway.
Amtrak owns the mainline in and out of town and the passenger terminal. They've been maintaining those sections of the rails since they bought them. The Locomotive Facilities and the Classifcation Yard were in rough shape but Taylor has alread torn out all the old rails and replaced them. No sections are currently ripped out.
"Did you ever have family in the railroad business? I could swear I've met someone like you before but I can't place it. He was a regular bloodhound, never losing the scent of whatever crooks' trail he was on."
"My grandfather, Nathaniel Vickery. Worked for the Boston and Maine through the depression and Second World War. Like I said, I'm Brockton Bay born and raised."
"Hmm… Nathaniel, Nathaniel. It sounds familiar, but I can't recall exactly. He would be proud of you, Mr. Vickery, I am sure of that much," The Corporal complimented.
In a surprising twist, The Corporal actually is Nathaniel Vickery but as a young man and not at an age that his own grandson would be able to recognize him at.
It was previously stated that the projections knew their own histories, but I think it was implied that dates and names eluded them.
I would urge you to ignore MaskedCritic's complaints. As far as I can tell you have pegged the average American "journalist" perfectly. You got the typical mixture of arrogance, self-righteousness, narcissism, hypocrisy, and lack of regard for any sort objective truth just right. If anything, you may have been too kind. Anyone who has been on the receiving end of that type of journalist, or knows people who have, or has even read or seen wildly biased or just plain inaccurate news stories about events they have personal knowledge of will appreciate this interlude.
You are most welcome! Sherrel ran in the opposite direction from the Trainyards during The Battle of Skidmark's Folly. That's a good name, why didn't I think of that before? She's hiding somewhere in the Boat Graveyard in the abandoned locomotive shed there. I'll be making a map of the Boat Graveyard section of the layout shortly. No chance of Sherrel being discovered for now.
I have encountered "journalists" that match your description. Oh, have I! What MaskedCritic reminded me is that I have also had the unwelcome opportunity to spend time with health care professionals that are equally jaded or filled to bursting with preconceived notions and self-absorption. Professions are not hive minds. It is easy to stereotype other professions while ignoring the beam in your own. I fell for this fallacy and MC kindly brought my attention to my internal bias. I want Stan to be a good reporter, even if he's not necessarily nice. I want to do better to make my intent clear.
I will never make Stan Vickery all sweetness and light. He's going to be hard-hitting and skeptical of a ridiculously powerful tweener who clearly has an agenda and is not being "properly supervised" insofar as the regular practice. He'll be very unnerved by how everyone seems to "like" her so quickly. The reality of that is Patt just likes to write likable characters. It's what he does, and I love him for it. To me it feels pretty creepy if I take a step back to see the forest for the trees. Does this girl have another power that draws people to see her in a positive light? If so, she could rule Brockton Bay and no one would even realize it. Even if she means well, she could be like Galadriel accepting the One Ring. So no, he's hardening his heart to keep an objective mind. And because he's overcompensating for this hypothetical power, at first he comes across as an asshole, at least until he realizes he can gain all the access me wants with honey rather than vinegar. He'll cautiously come around over time as deeds start to prove that Taylor and her power really is WYSIWYG. But he'll never stop mirroring herself back at her, especially when casual use of power is potentially leading to well-intended corruption. As Annette has pointed out, Gandalf would have started out using the One Ring "for good"...
And yes, I am a totally hopeless Tolkien nerd. Not just what he wrote, but biographies of the man. Real ones, not that movie which I have never seen.
I don't write perfect people. My clinical specialty is psychiatry, so I know first hand such unicorns don't exist. I put my very imperfect characters through obstacles and challenges, although never to the level of Worm canon, and I always have happy endings because that's just how I roll. That last is why Patt and I will do fine. In the end, we have the same end in mind. You may just see my characters taking a more circuitous route to get there, and gently prodding Patt's characters to justify and earn the warm fuzzies. But rest assured, Patt runs this show and has me pretty tightly leashed. Taylor, Danny, the PRT, Sherrel, heck, even the villains for the most part, will remain in the hands of Patt and will show his healing touch. Vickery, an Annette who thinks way too much (Problem Thinking - see joke link below), and others like them, will be the extent of the tension I'll be introducing unless something changes as we go forward. And that would be Patt's call, not mine. I'm excessively confident this story will be "healing" throughout its run, especially since Patt's inherent optimism keeps wearing down every curmudgeon I throw his way.
Don't worry, retcons are only bad when they come long after the point when the events happen. And are isolated to a single thing, instead of being a small part of a massive rewrite. In any other circumstances retcons are A-OK!
Well, the deed is done. Feel free to re-read the chapter and let me know what you think of the changes. I used one of your suggested lines verbatim. Thank you for that and all the extensive effort you invested in granting me constructive criticism. I myself like the result now better than what I originally wrote.
Common misconception, but the PRT and Protectorate are semi-separate organizations. Piggot is the Director of the PRT ENE, so it should be PRT Director instead of Protectorate Chief. Armsmaster is the head of the local Protectorate branch, and he is supposed to be in town, I believe.
The chapter reads a lot better after the rewrite! Stan no longer comes off as unhinged or looking to create news instead of report it, and his characterization is consistent throughout.
Common misconception, but the PRT and Protectorate are semi-separate organizations. Piggot is the Director of the PRT ENE, so it should be PRT Director instead of Protectorate Chief. Armsmaster is the head of the local Protectorate branch, and he is supposed to be in town, I believe.
The chapter reads a lot better after the rewrite! Stan no longer comes off as unhinged or looking to create news instead of report it, and his characterization is consistent throughout.
Thanks to @DrYuriMom for her most excellent co-writing!
I in no way own the images in this text. They are merely being used as examples for the story so I don't have to describe what they picture.
Author's Note:
Welcome to Chapter 3.3 of The World is My Layout! In this chapter, we take a step back in time to see what the Hebert family is up to. It's not quite 7k words but it's pretty close. We have 3 more chapters of part 3 complete and are working on 4.1 so we now have a very healthy buffer. All future chapters are in the 7k to 9k range. I hope you enjoy this chapter of The World is my Layout
Sunday, August 31st, Noon
Brockton Bay, NH Hebert Household
Annette Hebert was in bliss. For the first time in a week, she was held in her husband's strong arms as he lifted her into their shared bed. The bed was nearly as old as their daughter, but it had been an investment when they bought it, and the high quality still showed a dozen years later. Her side had conformed to her curves long ago and, even with her body battered, bruised, and encumbered by casts, the flat pillow-top felt far more comfortable than the newest model positioning beds at the hospital.
And no every two hour vitals! she mused to herself in delight. Still, no rest for the weary...or the wicked...quite yet.
She held her tongue while Danny considerately shifted her covers around, moving to tuck her in. Fortunately, she had come home in a t-shirt two sizes too big and a loose skirt, so her husband's gentle tug around her ankles freed her lower half almost painlessly, and her top served just fine for a comfy nap. She felt like a queen under Danny's careful attentions.
Not for the first time today she thanked whatever divinity might be listening in for bringing this man into her life exactly when she needed him most.
That said, she could only sigh inwardly at how hopeless her lover was when left to his own devices.
"Mind staying with me for a bit, honey?" she called out to Danny, who was slipping toward the door to grant her some uninterrupted rest. "I've missed your company more than I've missed quality sleep. I'm sure you can manage some way to cuddle me even with all this get-up I'm wrapped in."
Danny turned off the lights, allowing the noontime sun filtering through the blinded window to gently illuminate the space. He spun back and slowly sauntered to his side of the bed.
"I do think something could be arranged, my sweet Rose," he said with a grin as he slipped onto the bed and over to hover above and grant his wife a sumptuous butterfly kiss on her lips. The gesture was far less heated than their heady greeting outside the house on Annette's arrival but much more tender.
After long moments barely connected, Danny broke the contact and arranged himself comfortably with a hand resting on Annette's good shoulder, gently massaging it. He snuggled his head above his hand into the crook of his wife's neck. They stayed that way for several long minutes, just enjoying the shared presence.
Bliss it might be, but short of Heaven bliss always has an expiration date. Especially in Brockton Bay. The real world was still out there, and the adults needed to have a meeting of the minds. "You do realize," Annette began into the silence, "that at her age, Taylor can't own anything, much less a corporation, on her own. She can't even sit on the board of a non-profit as you've suggested be set up."
"And you, dear," she added with emphasis, "can't head a company and represent its unionized employees at the same time. Unless you're planning to bring Zoe and Alan into this and hand them the keys, who do you propose to be the CEO of this game-changer you're so excited about?" She barely stifled a yawn as she finished.
"You do have a point there, darling," Danny mused, "Taylor is too young, but she'll be handling all the operations that people she hires won't. I'm going to be organizing any Dockworkers she works with. And if we want the port to start working again, she'll need the guys to unload and load the ships, trains, and trucks that will be involved. I suppose that leaves you for the head office stuff."
Got it in one, Annette. So much for Taylor staying anonymous with Danny and I both so publicly involved, Annette thought ruefully in her sleepy, half-dozing mind. There's no way I can imagine achieving Taylor's and Yardmaster's far-reaching goals and somehow leave Danny and I out of the spotlight. Even Yardmaster said straight up; we need control of a defunct railroad. No matter how faceless a corporation might be from a tax and social responsibility perspective, it still needs a very public human face in the C suite. And Danny has made clear he won't trust anyone but himself and Taylor to manage operations. And rightly so.
Annette yawned again as her mind drifted further. Her thoughts took on a dreamy quality and she could actually see herself leading a multi-million dollar operation. She watched as she and Taylor, dressed in sharp pantsuits and looking confident, stood before a governor's cabinet while explaining collaborative agreements.
Out of the blue, an eccentric legacy college professor becomes Board Chair and CEO of a spectacularly visible parahuman business. And her hands-on husband suddenly manages the labor operations of this obviously parahuman corporation involving a LOT of money, however non-profit it might be. That will direct anyone with two brain cells to rub together straight to Taylor as Dispatcher, especially with her running capital operations.
This time her mind supplied mundane images of her daughter plastered on the front pages of newspapers, her face totally naked to the world and looking painfully vulnerable to Annette's inner mama bear.
The Unwritten Rule only applies when a cape doesn't leave breadcrumbs the size of whole baguettes leading to her real life identity. We could possibly push her status as a minor as a privacy shield, but that risks more attention to her not being in the Wards and anyway, there is so much Taylor can learn about making her own way in the world if she grasps every facet of this new world her powers open up. If she wants to change the world and not just Brockton Bay, her apprenticeship starts now.
Images of real humans guiding buildings as they lowered from the ether onto foundations that appeared out of nowhere. Union plumbers and electricians swarmed to attach connections to city services. She watched as proud, working and professional blue collar men and women moved to take control of locomotives that hadn't been on the track before them moments earlier.
We'll need to make clear Dispatcher's involvement in the corporation to get investment even for a non-profit. She'd be creating collateral out of thin air with her powers and we'd have to prove the collateral would work for any user should we get foreclosed, so we'll be audited and inspected before we could get a bank loan or sell bonds. As much as yielding up anonymity terrifies me, and I'd rather smother Taylor in bubble wrap and hide her away, she wouldn't stand for it, and she'd be right. We need to go public.
In her mind's eye she visualized a large owl protecting a smaller one from attack by an eagle. The larger owl was vicious in the defense. A young fox and two bears joined the owls when they came to ground and the eagle was driven off.
Yardmaster said she'd keep the little owl safe and I don't doubt that she can. I see no choice but to trust whatever Yardmaster might be. I just wish I could get the Maid of Orleans out of my mind's eye. God granted young Jeanne a magnificent destiny straight out of Yardmaster's stated playbook, but the girl was still burned at the stake once that destiny was completed and she was no longer useful to the great power she served so loyally. We have no guarantees Taylor too won't be tossed aside by a fickle god.
Imagery of capricious fairy lords came to mind, perhaps courtesy of far too many reads of the Bard's most fanciful tale. Despite her childhood fancy, she wasn't Titania in this story. She was one of the hopelessly drunk, carousing humans stumbling into the realm of powers they couldn't possibly comprehend.
Yet despite it all, with eyes wide open into the forest, we go. Lord, what fools these mortals be.
Annette started back to consciousness with a shiver and realized she'd stayed silent for quite a while, lost in her own dreamy thoughts. "Honestly,"she continued again to her husband who seemed surprised to hear from her again, "once we acquire legal access to the property and facilities, we need to start immediately contracting with the union to provide labor."
Danny nodded happily while stroking her hair, "I know a number of the guys that used to work in the railroad labor union would be happy to move back over again. The Dockworkers got quite a few of them as immigrants after we kicked out the crazy people and the railroad shut down. And of course the Dockworkers themselves would be happy to unload and load ships and trains again."
"We can probably contract daily operations entirely to the union as long as we have a say in who handles that piece and planning remains firmly in Taylor's hands with advice from the two of us. Maybe we could even give the union voting seats on the foundation board to help us capitalize this thing. Nothing motivates people more than a sense of ownership, and that's as close as you get to ownership with a nonprofit. I think the less time we have non-human workers doing union work, the better. Appearances are everything and Taylor should limit herself to projecting police as soon as we can manage it."
"That may work," Danny mused. "It'll give them some sense that progress is happening and that they are an integral part of it."
"The guys...and I'll note more than a few girls... ," she tweaked her husband's nose gently with her good hand for earlier dismissing the blue-collar workers of her sex, "may trust you, but never underestimate human greed. You'll lose their trust in a heartbeat if you have the appearance of profiting from "stealing" their work. And rightly so."
"I know that, dear. Which is how I've managed to stay in my position for this long. Every penny the guys and gals bring in goes right back into improving their lives and job prospects. I may only be Head of Hiring, but they treat me like the President." Danny muttered loud enough for Annette to hear, "I don't know why they haven't voted him out, lazing about in Florida like he is."
Annette shrugged, trusting Danny to manage the union politics. She'd have her hands full with the capitalist and governmental stuff. She'd studied a goodly amount of business as an undergrad, but it was still somewhat out of her wheelhouse. "Unless Taylor can somehow magic up some gold or other relatively liquid assets, we'll have to draw down our savings to prime the pump for this," she grimaced.
Danny smirked, "Taylor's way ahead of you there, Annette. Her police took $250,000 in loot from that encounter with the Merchants who were occupying the shops at the railyard yesterday. As for hiring people, that's part of the goal, so I don't see Taylor having a problem with that. I certainly don't."
"Hmm," Annette hummed in contemplation. "That is a good start, and Taylor can conjure up so much of the non-liquid capital needed such as rail stock and track. Still, we'll likely need to take a loan or sell bonds to buy the rights to the Boston and Maine name and images. Or maybe we can negotiate it as a tax write-off for whoever is squatting on the trademarks. I take it you've already considered whether she'd be competing with non-parahuman interests? Would the truckers object? I'd hate to start right off the bat with a NEPEA-5 lawsuit."
"Honey, there is no competition, at least from a railroad company," Danny reminded her and tweaked her nose in return, "The Boston and Maine went bankrupt due to the lack of freight to transport, especially from the ports, in addition to the problems it already had. CSX didn't acquire any of the rails north of Boston because there was nothing to transport, and it would be unprofitable. Amtrak bought the mainline between Boston, Brockton Bay, and Portland, but they only run one passenger train a week on that line due to a lack of demand. The rest is mostly in state ownership in various states of repair."
"The truckers," Danny paused for a moment, "The truckers are in another union, but from what I hear, they are actually overworked. Big cities like Boston, Brockton Bay, and Portland still demand plenty of products, but there isn't enough traffic between them and the smaller towns for a train company to make a profit. I think the truckers would welcome the help."
Annette's outlook brightened a bit at Danny's well spoken optimism. "Okay, I see your point. If Taylor can free up the ports and strengthen product movement through New Hampshire and Maine, that would reasonably serve to enlarge the pie. The truckers may have to start sharing the available revenue with us, but they would still see an increase in overall revenue simply because more capital will be flowing."
Annette reached over to ruffle her husband's hair. "I think it'll all start by using that cash you mentioned to hire a skilled corporate lawyer that maybe works with big non-profit services like hospital systems. Maybe you can take off a half-day to help me visit Langdon on Tuesday? I can say hi to my colleagues and maybe do my own legal inquiries, hypothetically, of course, with some of the bright minds in the law school. They can suggest who might be a good resource to start with."
"We'll have to drop by the Roundhouse to secure the money. The police are keeping it under guard," Danny added.
"Keep in mind if we go non-profit there will be nothing we'll actually own; no inheritance for Taylor. She'll be just another paid employee of the company, like a super-specialized surgeon at a non-profit hospital. Still, a non-profit can offer board seats. For example, whoever is the current mayor of Brockton Bay could have a seat. That might help us get the city to go along with it without the need to buy all the property and facilities. The city could be a partner."
"That sounds like a plan I can get behind," Danny replied, nodding slightly into Annette's neck. "Would you prefer to wait until I can drive Taylor to school, or do you want her to take the bus? I'm sure she's not looking forward to climbing into that contraption with her leg."
"The legal eagles will more likely be around in the morning if they're there at all on the day after Labor Day and three weeks before the fall term starts. What say we drop the little owl off together and then head off to Langdon? We should be able to get back before noon. I want to say you'd be able to get a half-day in at work, but I have a hunch something is going to come up to mess with that. I don't know why," she mused, her eyes glazing over a moment before she blinked. "I just don't want you to start shirking right before we are about to turn the town upside down...hopefully not literally."
Danny considered that for a moment, then burst into laughter. "That's something Taylor says she can do, but only if a building is unoccupied and/or unowned. Can you imagine the look on Max Anders' face if he and all his workers at Medhall Pharmaceuticals came into work one morning to see his 20 story building uprooted and turned upside down? Or if the Mayor found City Hall in a similar condition?"
It took a minute for him to calm down again, but he approved of Annette's Tuesday plan with a kiss. "Okay, we'll do it your way, Rose. You've got a solid plan, and that's one reason why I fell in love with you. Your plans are the best. Accord can jump in the Charles River without any gear on for all I care."
Annette chuckled at her husband's confident humor. I almost lost him...or, I guess, the other way around. I can't even imagine his world without me. I promise I will treasure this second chance for all it is worth. I'll do everything in my power to bring Danny's and Taylor's dreams into reality. They've earned the happy ending we didn't.
"You're just lucky I now use my awesome powers only for good," she grinned back to her goofball husband and held it for several moments before her features took on a deep sense of pensiveness. Her body visibly wilted into the soft bed.
"The last time my plans were this grandiose, we were halfway to overthrowing the Patriarchy before everything went off-script at once, and things got ugly so fast." She sighed hard and Danny could feel his wife tense under his massaging hand.
"You know, I never shared with you that Lustrum called me a genius at planning as we grew the movement. But when push came to shove I was left floating unmoored in the storm like Cassandra in the Battle for Troy. Tempers flared, reason fell by the wayside, and no one listened to me when I could see plain as day that things were going south in a handbasket. Instead of equality we were heading for a repeat of the Third Punic War with us playing the role of the Carthaginians. I was lucky I fled before the violence started and was given protection in exchange for what I could share with the authorities."
She reached over with her good hand to squeeze Danny's shoulder. "Thank you again for giving me the strength to do that. We hadn't even started dating by then and you knew almost nothing of how deep in I was. I knew what I needed to do, but I was like a scared rabbit unable to actually break for the rushes. I saved myself and let most everyone else take the fall, but they were all so damned blind and I tried so, so hard to tell them that. I'm sure if I had stayed any longer, I would have been killed by someone when Lustrum wasn't there. Something made to look like an accident so Lustrum wouldn't lose it too much when I was murdered. Just enough to be even more pliant. When push comes to shove, I don't exactly have a good track record for making the world a better place, Danny. I just hope history doesn't repeat…."
"I will not invoke Murphy," Danny muttered to himself, "I will not invoke Murphy." He took a breath and tried to calm Annette by stroking her hair, "I don't expect everything to go right, not in this world we live in. But with a good plan, Taylor's abilities, and the good people of the union, I am certain that we can make a difference for this city. The world can wait. Let's take care of our home first."
"I can't agree more," she agreed while doing her best to hug Danny. "I'm not going to see my little owl burned at the stake." Annette shivered and added, "or worse, locked in a cage. The Maid of Brockton Bay will change the world for the better, and she'll live to freely enjoy every bit of it!"
"That's my girl!" Danny encouraged, returning the hug gently. "Now, how about you get a nap in, and I'll cuddle you while you do so."
Annette was happy to let her husband have the last word this round. She closed her eyes to revel in Danny's simple touch without distraction. She always had her best ideas after a good sleep, and she was sure this time would be no different.
Embraced by the man she loved and cradled in a bed that fit just her, Annette took all her puzzles with her into the best sleep she'd had since the accident. Sure she had challenges lying ahead, but she'd always managed before. With Taylor coming into her own, things looked better than ever.
And she dreamed. Oh, she dreamed...
---------------
Sunday, August 31 12:30pm
Hebert Household
Taylor and Emma had initially planned to spend the afternoon catching up, each telling the other of their experiences since they had last seen each other a week ago. However, after the two girls raided the fridge for lunchtime sandwich makings, Emma wanted to investigate the layout more and examine what was in Danny's train box. Taylor had assented and so the pair were going through said box and making up an inventory list.
"You know," Emma began thoughtfully while holding a damaged boxcar in her hand, "I think I could make something like this. It would be wood, fiberglass and hard foam rather than plastic, and I'd likely need to find some way to buy the wheels unless I got a hobby lathe, but it's a pretty simple design."
Taylor nodded, "I believe some hobbyists have made more realistic railcars by constructing them out of the real materials. It gives them a more realistic weight to them as well." She picked up an undamaged plastic boxcar that was heavily streaked with rust and shook it, "Hardly any weight at all see?" Taylor pointed to a Ziploc bag with a few handfuls of spare trucks and wheels, "Dad has a bunch of spare wheel parts though so we're fine on that front for now."
Emma looked longingly at the parts and felt a desire to use her hands right then and there. "It's a bummer, anything I make wouldn't be useful on the layout," she sighed in a fit of self pity. "I'm sure it requires fancy stuff made with expensive materials by factories."
"Hey, don't feel down. You've always been gifted with arts and crafts. Why not try to build some rolling stock?"
"But would it do any good?" Emma questioned. "I mean I can't make anything with the materials in this kit. I craft just wood and stuff. Arts and crafts are nothing special. It could look nice, but it wouldn't work on the layout or anything, right?"
"Wrong. It doesn't matter what a model train is made of. Plastic, metal, wood, what have you, my power converts it directly to a full-size piece of real rolling stock once it is railed on the layout," Taylor explained kindly. "For, example, this plastic boxcar will become a 40 or 50 foot wood or steel boxcar in the real world, depending on the style it is made in."
"Really," Emma's eyes brightened and her hands started to fidget. "You mean I could not just help you tidy up these cars but create something myself and it would become real?"
"Yes! Yardmaster, can you get us some wood and metal scraps from wherever you seem to be getting supplies from?" Taylor asked aloud, "Maybe some simple tools to use on them?" She looked back at Emma with a small grin. "My power keeps coming up with various items from somewhere. Paint, tools, gauges, what have you. Wood and metal working supplies shouldn't be too hard."
There was a flash of light and a large workbench appeared a few feet from the layout. It was piled high with various wood and metal scraps in the right size range along with hand tools to manipulate them as needed. In addition, there was a little foam and some glue that could fasten any of the materials together. Finally, there were some paints and brushes to paint cars with. "Here you are Taylor and Emma. The warehouses in the Chinese Union-Imperial will never miss these supplies." Yardmaster said with a smug voice.
Emma looked over the material and her eyes took on the look of someone half her age on Christmas morning. "Um, Tay? Are cabooses a thing anymore? I think they're cute but I don't think I've ever seen one on a real train."
"No, not on the big railroads," Taylor said with some sadness. "In place of cabooses, they've moved to just sticking a blinking red light on the last car of a consist if another locomotive isn't on the rear end. The red light does a whole bunch of other things in addition to just being a light. They're called End-Of-Train Devices. Only heritage railroads and some short lines really use cabooses anymore. What? Would you like to start with a caboose?"
"Well, I don't know much about trains," Emma admitted, looking away to the side, clearly embarrassed. "Just what I read in kids books back before we even met. But cabooses just always struck me as cute." She shook herself, before looking up guiltily, her face flushing furiously. "Sorry, I know I'm just being silly. I'm thirteen for heaven's sake! What kind of car should I really focus on to be useful?"
"If you want to build a caboose, I won't stop you. Go on if you want to. Here, I'll pull up a picture of one on my phone if you want," Taylor encouraged her best friend of 7 years. She fished her phone out of a pocket and began hunting up a picture of a Boston and Maine caboose. She finally picked one out a few moments later. "How about this?"
"Hmm, I think I can visualize that." Emma looked up again to the collected supplies that had magicked into existence minutes before. "Um, would Yardmaster be able to bring in a hobby bandsaw and a decent Dremel tool? Er, wait, there's no power plug in here is there?"
Taylor shook her head, "No, but there's nothing stopping her from getting us a big battery in here and hooking it up to some cables to manage it, then plugging in the tools."
"So the battery would, like, be on a cart and we could bring it in and out to charge it in the house?"
"Yeah, that would work nicely," Taylor agreed, "Any chance those Chinese warehouses have fully charged batteries sitting around along with all the equipment Emma just mentioned, Yardmaster?"
There was another flash. "You would not believe how many warehouses in Chinese port cities are still full with products for America even 12 years after Leviathan started appearing," Yardmaster replied with some befuddlement, "One would think that they would use the things themselves. That's what happens when international shipping almost shuts down in its entirety I suppose."
Emma's expression turned greedy and she pulled the small bandsaw onto the table and started setting it up. She did the same with the Dremel as well as various measuring implements. It wasn't long before she was cutting thin, hobby grade plywood into the needed lengths and drilling out the inserts and windows. Taylor smiled as she realized Emma's concentration when on a project might not be a tinker fugue, but it was no less passionate.
Taylor made a space for herself at the workbench and pulled the paints to it. She then grabbed the 7 boxcars and the spare trucks and wheels from the train box. "Do you think the blue and black paint scheme clashes with the maroon and gold on the locomotives? You've got a good fashion sense so I figured you'd know."
"I like the Maroon and Gold better, to be honest," Emma declared, one eye cocked as she considered it carefully. "And that blue clashes something terrible with the maroon. If we don't have to compromise, I'd say one or the other."
She looked at the project in her hands. "I'll replicate the maroon and gold on this when I get to painting. The minuteman icon will be the hardest part to do by hand. I'm not sure I'll be able to make it look decent, especially when this little thing is blown up to life-size. The human eye will glance over a lot of flaws on a small object, but tiny flaws on this scale are definitely noticeable on something forty feet long."
"How about using a stencil and airbrush?" Taylor asked, "I'd suggest using decals for the Minuteman instead but I hate those."
"There will still be miniscule imperfections that will show when it blows up to full size," the redhead noted. "By the way, how does that work, anyway? Even the factory stuff is imperfect if you look at it with a magnifying glass. And all the materials change and all the internal detail is added somehow. How does Yardmaster translate a plastic or wood model into the real thing? And I'm just talking something 'simple' like these cars, and not a locomotive which just makes my head hurt trying to think about it."
"Some alchemical transmutation or something outlandish like that," Taylor said, her brow furrowed in confusion, "She hasn't explained the process to me. As for enlarging them to full size, it's done via the layout. The real world is displayed to us here in model form but once something is placed on it, it appears in the real world in full-scale size. Again, apparently, it's really technical."
"You know, it kinda makes me feel better that even you don't understand how all this works. I was starting to worry you'd be like some kind of science genius now and we wouldn't have as many classes together anymore. I'm actually pleased that I don't feel jealous at all about this, but I am kinda worried it will make you too busy for us to be as close as we have been."
Taylor selected some maroon and gold paint and a couple of small brushes to start painting the first boxcar. "I'm glad too, Ems. I would never leave you behind. You're my best friend. I'll keep us together even if I received an offer to go to Arcadia for high school and you were forced to go to the dump at Winslow because your grades weren't high enough. I'd go with you to Winslow. I'd live through 4 years of that gang-wannabe nest of vipers just for you."
"Oh Taylor, don't you dare hold yourself back!" Emma protested immediately. "I know your mom would move the Earth itself to make sure you went to Arcadia. You have so much potential, girl. I'm the one with the brain that doesn't work right. I do okay, and I'll manage Winslow somehow. If push comes to shove, daddy's a lawyer so things can't get too bad."
Taylor shook her head and gesticulated with one hand, "Either that or I can organize a good study habit for you so both of us can go to Arcadia! Anyway, I just was using that for an example of how far I would go to keep you with me."
"Just don't hold yourself back for my sake," Emma finished with a shrug. "Anyway, how big can you make something and have it drop onto your layout? You've mentioned it can be buildings. How big and how does the foundation work? Would it work for something really big. Say...um...a bridge?" Emma suddenly seemed evasive as she asked and wouldn't meet Taylor's eyes.
Taylor's mind shifted to consider the problem, "I think Yardmaster said to me before that once a building is set down, it works itself into the water and electric systems. So I guess my power is adding a foundation as it's being placed? As for a bridge, that counts as a construct so it should integrate itself with the landscape similar to a building. Why do you ask? Is something the matter?"
"Um, not really. It's just something you'd think is silly," Emma demurred, suddenly looking extremely intent on her caboose which was coming along quickly and nicely.
Taylor went back to her painting, laying down a coat of primer on the old boxcar and then a base layer of maroon. "C'mon Ems, you know you can talk to me. We're best friends and have been since first grade. You can tell me anything. I'll listen."
Emma paused her careful cutting with the Dremel and let the buzz fade off. "Taylor, we've talked sometimes about what we might want to be when we grow up. I think you got your answer from out of the blue, and it does kinda make me jealous. You're so smart and now you have a power that will certainly pay the bills and make wonderful things happen. This summer, I ran across an in-depth article in a magazine at the doctor's office of all things." Emma's eyes dropped in guilt.
"I kept the thing, which I knew was stealing but I just couldn't get the article out of my head. It was about an amazing new bridge in France that was finished back in '04. I kinda got it in my head that being an engineer would be cool, but I know I could never make it happen. But I thought maybe if you ever need to bridge something, I could at least make one out of this kind of stuff." The redhead was clearly painfully embarrassed and her cheeks were beet red at the admission of vulnerability. Taylor knew Emma hated feeling incapable or vulnerable.
Taylor put the boxcar down a drying rack and side-hugged Emma, "No Ems, that's really cool! You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Being an engineer is a natural progression from arts and crafts. Working with your hands is something you really enjoy, and you're really good at it! How about this? When you go to college for an engineering degree, every summer you can have a paid internship at the shops on the railroad and when you graduate, I'll hire you right out of school? Does that sound good to you?"
"But won't you just magick anything up you need? Why bother building something when you can just make something out of wood scraps and have it become real? You look to need artisans more than engineers," Emma replied skeptically.
"At some point Emma, my operation will outgrow my ability to just make things happen on the scale we'll need," Taylor reasoned. "It will probably be pretty soon in fact. I won't always be available to run trains or place buildings. I won't always be able to summon projections to do my bidding. Real people will need to be hired to perform jobs the real way. I will need general laborers, conductors, train engineers, structural engineers, you name it. I will have to hire administrators of all kinds to manage everyone and I'll have to buy certain things, like wood and steel, to make the things that you're making now, but at full size. It will take longer, yes, but it will give the people of Brockton Bay jobs and a life to lead, and right now, you are one of those prospective people."
As Taylor was explaining the future, she waved her paintbrush in the air somewhat wildly and splattered paint on various parts of the workbench in her excitement. She smiled at Emma, "You're good at what you do. At least think about it okay? It's still years down the line, but it's something to look forward to. Who knows, maybe you'll be the engineer I commission to build a railway bridge across the water to Maine, so trains don't have to double back to the wye in order to get to Portland."
"Wow," Emma uttered as she took in Taylor's excitement. "I hadn't thought things through that far in my head, but I can see where you are coming from. And it would mean I'd still be useful other than for sentimental value. I've kinda worried I'd be little more than a charity case for you now. I don't know if I can manage the grades for it, but I like the way you're thinking. You're right, you just can't power through everything. Someone needs to know the physics behind the structures in their real state." Emma engaged her work on the caboose with renewed vigor. "This could be cool," she muttered to herself, lost in thought.
Taylor nodded, happy with the direction the conversation had gone. She picked up the boxcar and started applying gold stripes. Changing the subject she asked, "Now about the Minuteman. How about we just apply the base paint coats and stripes and let either projections or real painters do the job?"
"If Yardmaster thinks that's best. Again, I don't know how these models translate to reality. From a human sense the Minuteman logo would look a lot better if painted in full scale. I just can't get that level of detail on the model without a lot of practice using extremely tiny brushes and likely using a loupe. It would be really tricky."
Taylor shrugged, "Well I think it's a good idea if you do. The rolling stock only gets the white Minuteman anyway. The locomotives get the fully detailed one." Taylor nodded in affirmation, "Okay, that's what we'll do then. What do you want to do after you're done with the caboose?"
"Maybe some passenger cars," Emma mused. "It would be cool to have an old-fashioned passenger train complete with caboose. Maybe I can find an image of what passenger cars looked like when cabooses were actually used?" Emma smirked. "And yes, if you accuse me of watching too much Thomas the Tank Engine as a little girl, you would be correct. I'm guilty as charged; may the court have mercy on my soul."
"Hey, I'm not judging. I watched some of that with you when I wasn't watching superhero cartoons with you instead." Taylor pulled out her phone yet again, "Let's see, old-time passenger cars… ah, here you go." She held up a picture for Emma. "A lot of tourist railroads still use these things. I have a bunch of the later heavyweights but none of these or the newer steel lightweight streamliners."
"Hmm, that won't be hard at all to make, although the texturing will take some effort. I need to think on it a bit. I'm close to finishing the caboose. It just needs the glue to dry, which will take a while, and then it'll need painting." Emma looked over her creation and was surprised to note that the glue was already dry and the surfaces all ready for texturing and painting.
"Um, Taylor? Is there something about this Layout Room that could account for speeding up sitting or seasoning time for what we're building? It all seems to come together more easily than in my room. This caboose shouldn't have been ready to paint until tomorrow, but it's like a day has passed while we were talking about bridges."
"That is weird," Taylor mused, examining the little N-scale caboose, "Maybe it's just really high-end industrial glue? I think we would have noticed a time jump of any kind. Yardmaster, have you been playing with time travel here at all?" She questioned her power's advisor.
"Unfortunately, time travel is not within my purview," Yardmaster lamented, "You were correct in your first assumption. I acquired only the best glue for your projects."
"Hmm," Emma hummed in thought and shrugged. "By the way, Tay, did your parents mention dinner plans? I know your mom has been gone a while and I wasn't sure if your dad had thought that far ahead given everything going on."
Taylor considered that. "You know, I don't think they did. They're napping so they probably forgot. It's understandable, considering." She then grinned, "Maybe when we're done here, we can make a surprise dinner for them. I know where mom's family recipe book is. In the meantime, you can build stuff while doing some painting and I'll do painting and repairs on these boxcars."
Eventually, both girls grew hungry and decided to cook dinner for the napping Annette and Danny. Taylor went to the Kitchen, with Emma following, and opened her mother's recipe book. She turned the pages until she came to Annette's family lasagna recipe. It was famous, fabulous, delicious and absolutely too complicated to craft for two 13-year-olds.
"Right, we're going to need some help." Taylor had declared, then proceeded to summon a gourmet cook projection that could have been found on any 1st class dining car. Upon being summoned and told what was going on, the facsimile of an Italian cook had examined the recipe. He declared it to be perfect in design and helped the two girls prepare the dish. At approximately 5 o'clock, Annette and Danny would awaken to the scent of her famous lasagna nearing completion.
It is heartwarming and wholesome to see Danny and Annette being concerned about Taylor. On the other hand, if they knew what she was truly capable of, their reaction would be "Yeah, fuck'em up sweetheart!"
Emma might if she were influenced by someone who pushed her in the direction, but not gonna happen with this interpretation of Taylor. She's still an idealist and 'good girl' for now at least. Not sure what Patt has planned for her rebellious stage. Even I will have to wait and see on that with everyone else and then adapt to it.
Any thoughts from our readers on how Taylor will be at 16 with the different influences she has now rather than canon? I'm just as in the dark as you all are, so I'm curious what we all think. And Patt can just stand back and laugh at all of us.
Any thoughts from our readers on how Taylor will be at 16 with the different influences she has now rather than canon? I'm just as in the dark as you all are, so I'm curious what we all think. And Patt can just stand back and laugh at all of us.
Sweet and adorable as hell, yet also being a terrifying force of nature that you don't want to fuck with. Moreover with the amount of money and influence she will have in future, she might even have the attitude of "I am going to fix the world and there is jackshit you can do about it".
