Taylor asks for help.
She gets Halp instead.
She gets Halp instead.
Throne [Worm/Heaven's Lost Property]
- Thread starter Oroborous
- Start date
- Crossover
- Created
- Status
- Ongoing
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Statistics (4 threadmarks, 4.2k words)
User Total Oroborous 4
Author's note
So, I'm starting this as a low-priority thing besides Firepower (shameless plug here: Firepower [Worm/Heavy object] Crossover - Sci-Fi - Superhero).
Now, some might ask: Oroborous, you named yourself after the serpent of infinity - is it because you too have your head solidly in your own ass? Why would you start another story when you barely have 20K words on the first one?
To that I say - damn, you got a point!
Regardless, the muse eludes me and gives me waifus instead, so fuck it.
A bit on the crossover:
Worm - a novel where one girl accidentalies deicide.
Sora No Otoshimono/Heaven's lost Property (a.k.a HeLP - it's asking for it at this point) - one horny guy in animeland has masonry fall on him, plus one waifu with wings.
Said waifu turns out to be a weapon of mass destruction. With a rocking bod.
Has a bazillion movies, three seasons, a COMPLETE manga fully translated, very recommended.
Note:
Minor locker element; I might change this later on but for now it seems to be the most logical starting point.
Feedback welcome, please avoid posting things you don't want me explaining to your parents.
Now, some might ask: Oroborous, you named yourself after the serpent of infinity - is it because you too have your head solidly in your own ass? Why would you start another story when you barely have 20K words on the first one?
To that I say - damn, you got a point!
Regardless, the muse eludes me and gives me waifus instead, so fuck it.
A bit on the crossover:
Worm - a novel where one girl accidentalies deicide.
Sora No Otoshimono/Heaven's lost Property (a.k.a HeLP - it's asking for it at this point) - one horny guy in animeland has masonry fall on him, plus one waifu with wings.
Said waifu turns out to be a weapon of mass destruction. With a rocking bod.
Has a bazillion movies, three seasons, a COMPLETE manga fully translated, very recommended.
Note:
Minor locker element; I might change this later on but for now it seems to be the most logical starting point.
Feedback welcome, please avoid posting things you don't want me explaining to your parents.
- Location
- Kenya
I feel weirdly called out lmao.
0 - Prologue: Prayer
Daedalus sat by the monitor station in her laboratory.
Scrolling across the screen were countless runes, each representing a new concept in of it's own.
A window popped to the side of the central monitor, blasting the dark room with white light from the window's background.
She'd forgotten about that, which wasn't much of a surprise really; she hadn't talked to anyone since... maybe the last few centuries? How long has it been since the fall of Babylon again?
Her her gaze fell - she'd been firmly against that deployment, and she'd been proven right; the cost was too much, though, and her child suffered the price.
The chat window gave way to the image of a blonde man, sat on a throne.
His disdainful smirk made her want to curl up with shame and sock him in the face at the same time - but as she disconnected the conversation, his smirk turned to outrage.
Suits him better - when was the last time someone said no to that brat? About goddamn time.
A flourish of the keyboard brought up a different display.
A girl in her teens was covered in filth, apparently trapped in a metal storage space of sorts.
It had been a few hours before the sun's rise in that part of the mortal realm - but time was not on her side.
That brat could not be trusted with her child - she could only hope the girl could be.
Her predictions and scrying insisted on the girl as a central temporal anchor in the mortal realm - her fate was strong, much stronger than most.
She'd managed to power through more than a year of psychological abuse that reminded her of the brat - she had character.
She could only hope she still had love in her heart.
Daedalus rose from her chair and approached a glass chamber at the wall of her lab. Lined side-by-side others like it, a female silhouette floated inside, immersed in golden amber with her eyes closed to the world.
Daedalus' had hovered a red button at the side of the chamber, her eyes catching her ragged reflection on the chamber's glass.
Her hand stroke the glass lovingly.
She would have to trust in Pandora.
"Be safe, my child - and love. Love yourself, and love your master. And if your heart still has room for more... please, love the world. They need your love."
With that, the button depressed, as the occupant was ejected downwards.
She couldn't think, her head was pulsing with pain and her throat was sore, so dry and worn from screaming.
As her consciousness faded, she could only whisper;
"God...please...help."
As her mind grew dark, she couldn't hear the answer.
Above the school, in the night skies of the bay, lightning flashed and thunder cracked as the heavens cracked open, and a star fell down to earth.
Her entire body felt like it had been reborn, and her head was resting on something soft. It reminded her of the times she'd lay down in her mother's lap, as she red books to her.
Her eyes reluctantly cracked open, her subconsciousness balking at the idea of relinquishing it's current comfortable state to the harsh currents of reality.
As she opened her eyes, she saw a dark sky, and she saw pink.
Pink hair, it's tips a darker hue, almost black, that merged seamlessly with the night sky. Shockingly clear emerald eyes. A cherubic, angel-like face, peered at her from between two locks of hair, like pink pillars of an ancient roman temple guarding a deity's shrine.
Then she noticed the (evidently) girl's 'assets' - the great orbs loomed above her heads as if they were about to pass divine judgement upon her.
Taylor shot up from the unknown girl's lap.
Staggering to her feet, Taylor shook the dizzy spell from her head and pointed at the girl.
"Who are you? Where did you take me? Did Emma put you up to this?!"
The girl, who stood up in the meanwhile, approached her.
Taking a closer look at the girl, Taylor noticed her odd clothes; somehow a cross between a very daring swimsuit, a skirt, and battle armor, the clothes looked like something Armsmaster would make if he'd produced women's fashion for beach & battle. Her arms were protected by bulky shoulder pads that extended from her shoulders to her elbows, seemingly not restricting her movement. Her chest was cupped by her shirt, a V-cut baring her breastbone to her navel, her 'assets' cupped by the shirt (?). Below that, a skirt covered her lower body and a pair of Tinker thigh-high boots protected her legs.
Most shocking, however, was the bulky collar at her neck.
The girl, who on all counts seemed to be some sort of cape, strode towards her.
Backing up, Taylor's feet stumbled upon something on the ground. She fell down backwards, her arms arresting her fall.
The girl knelt before her and grasped her right hand - and then Taylor noticed them.
Great, fluffy and majestic, wings of the lightest of pinks and spanning five hand-spans to each side, they billowed in the light nightly fall breeze, and seemed to glow from within.
All she could think of was 'Beautiful', and yet it seemed to fall short.
The girl spoke.
"Beginning Imprinting process."
As she spoke, motes of light gathered from the girl's collar, forming a chain of light that wrapped around her right hand.
As the chain completed it's manifestation, the light gave way to a shimmering silver metal, weightless of solid at the same time.
The girl bowed her head down, and spoke again.
"It is a pleasure to meet you. I am a Pet-class Angeloid. My purpose is to fulfill your every want and desire. You are my master."
------------
Author's note:
Yup.
I mean, BOLOs? WH40K Titans? nah.
World ending booba angels? That's where it's at.
I mean, considering Taylor is mostly gay in the fandom, and her tendency for escalation, it's all she could want!
Even Glenn would be happy with how PR-friendly our lovely newweapon of mass destruction cute, harmless heroine who like to fly on her off time is!
For those unfamiliar with her, here's the stat card - I recommend NOT reading it, since spoilers, but that's on you.
soranootoshimono.fandom.com
This is a lower priority project which I will update as my muse comes and goes, keep that in mind.
I have several others like it planned.
Scrolling across the screen were countless runes, each representing a new concept in of it's own.
A window popped to the side of the central monitor, blasting the dark room with white light from the window's background.
She'd forgotten about that, which wasn't much of a surprise really; she hadn't talked to anyone since... maybe the last few centuries? How long has it been since the fall of Babylon again?
Her her gaze fell - she'd been firmly against that deployment, and she'd been proven right; the cost was too much, though, and her child suffered the price.
The chat window gave way to the image of a blonde man, sat on a throne.
His disdainful smirk made her want to curl up with shame and sock him in the face at the same time - but as she disconnected the conversation, his smirk turned to outrage.
Suits him better - when was the last time someone said no to that brat? About goddamn time.
A flourish of the keyboard brought up a different display.
A girl in her teens was covered in filth, apparently trapped in a metal storage space of sorts.
It had been a few hours before the sun's rise in that part of the mortal realm - but time was not on her side.
That brat could not be trusted with her child - she could only hope the girl could be.
Her predictions and scrying insisted on the girl as a central temporal anchor in the mortal realm - her fate was strong, much stronger than most.
She'd managed to power through more than a year of psychological abuse that reminded her of the brat - she had character.
She could only hope she still had love in her heart.
Daedalus rose from her chair and approached a glass chamber at the wall of her lab. Lined side-by-side others like it, a female silhouette floated inside, immersed in golden amber with her eyes closed to the world.
Daedalus' had hovered a red button at the side of the chamber, her eyes catching her ragged reflection on the chamber's glass.
Her hand stroke the glass lovingly.
She would have to trust in Pandora.
"Be safe, my child - and love. Love yourself, and love your master. And if your heart still has room for more... please, love the world. They need your love."
With that, the button depressed, as the occupant was ejected downwards.
-W-W-W-
Taylor nursed her tattered hands to her chest, her last dreg of power expended hammering the locker's door to no avail.
She couldn't think, her head was pulsing with pain and her throat was sore, so dry and worn from screaming.
As her consciousness faded, she could only whisper;
"God...please...help."
As her mind grew dark, she couldn't hear the answer.
Above the school, in the night skies of the bay, lightning flashed and thunder cracked as the heavens cracked open, and a star fell down to earth.
-W-W-W-
Taylor felt warmth.
Her entire body felt like it had been reborn, and her head was resting on something soft. It reminded her of the times she'd lay down in her mother's lap, as she red books to her.
Her eyes reluctantly cracked open, her subconsciousness balking at the idea of relinquishing it's current comfortable state to the harsh currents of reality.
As she opened her eyes, she saw a dark sky, and she saw pink.
Pink hair, it's tips a darker hue, almost black, that merged seamlessly with the night sky. Shockingly clear emerald eyes. A cherubic, angel-like face, peered at her from between two locks of hair, like pink pillars of an ancient roman temple guarding a deity's shrine.
Then she noticed the (evidently) girl's 'assets' - the great orbs loomed above her heads as if they were about to pass divine judgement upon her.
Taylor shot up from the unknown girl's lap.
Staggering to her feet, Taylor shook the dizzy spell from her head and pointed at the girl.
"Who are you? Where did you take me? Did Emma put you up to this?!"
The girl, who stood up in the meanwhile, approached her.
Taking a closer look at the girl, Taylor noticed her odd clothes; somehow a cross between a very daring swimsuit, a skirt, and battle armor, the clothes looked like something Armsmaster would make if he'd produced women's fashion for beach & battle. Her arms were protected by bulky shoulder pads that extended from her shoulders to her elbows, seemingly not restricting her movement. Her chest was cupped by her shirt, a V-cut baring her breastbone to her navel, her 'assets' cupped by the shirt (?). Below that, a skirt covered her lower body and a pair of Tinker thigh-high boots protected her legs.
Most shocking, however, was the bulky collar at her neck.
The girl, who on all counts seemed to be some sort of cape, strode towards her.
Backing up, Taylor's feet stumbled upon something on the ground. She fell down backwards, her arms arresting her fall.
The girl knelt before her and grasped her right hand - and then Taylor noticed them.
Great, fluffy and majestic, wings of the lightest of pinks and spanning five hand-spans to each side, they billowed in the light nightly fall breeze, and seemed to glow from within.
All she could think of was 'Beautiful', and yet it seemed to fall short.
The girl spoke.
"Beginning Imprinting process."
As she spoke, motes of light gathered from the girl's collar, forming a chain of light that wrapped around her right hand.
As the chain completed it's manifestation, the light gave way to a shimmering silver metal, weightless of solid at the same time.
The girl bowed her head down, and spoke again.
"It is a pleasure to meet you. I am a Pet-class Angeloid. My purpose is to fulfill your every want and desire. You are my master."
------------
Author's note:
Yup.
I mean, BOLOs? WH40K Titans? nah.
World ending booba angels? That's where it's at.
I mean, considering Taylor is mostly gay in the fandom, and her tendency for escalation, it's all she could want!
Even Glenn would be happy with how PR-friendly our lovely new
For those unfamiliar with her, here's the stat card - I recommend NOT reading it, since spoilers, but that's on you.
Ikaros
Ikaros (イカロス,, ikarosu?) is the deutragonist and the main female character of the Sora no Otoshimono series. Ikaros fell from the Synapse portal to Earth and was found by Tomoki. She rescued him from the falling debris and "imprinted" on him. It is later revealed that she was sent to the Earth...
soranootoshimono.fandom.com
This is a lower priority project which I will update as my muse comes and goes, keep that in mind.
I have several others like it planned.
HOW THE HELL DO YOU NINJA THE GODDAMN AUTHOR?!
Hollow Mask
Horrid Failure
- Location
- South of Dignity, North of Embarassment
I'm not going to lie, I saw the notification and immediately had three questions. You answered two of them preemptively.
1. I always have a knee jerk reaction, to ask something along the lines of that 1st question, for anything with names from mythology. I don't usually get to go through with it but it's nice to see it pre-answered here.
2. I was going to ask about that with bothering to list the Word Count, I usually don't bother paying attention to that because some writers make that number fly by so fast and others stretch it out to a crawl.
3. How much of HeLP will be showing up?
1. I always have a knee jerk reaction, to ask something along the lines of that 1st question, for anything with names from mythology. I don't usually get to go through with it but it's nice to see it pre-answered here.
2. I was going to ask about that with bothering to list the Word Count, I usually don't bother paying attention to that because some writers make that number fly by so fast and others stretch it out to a crawl.
3. How much of HeLP will be showing up?
it has been so long since I have watched HeLP I really want to see where this goes now
AnantaAtman
I wandered, I watched, I judged
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Okay, I felt weirdly good that I am reading about someone who could one-shot an endbringer.
- Location
- I thought you had the map?
Refreshing my memory on Sora No Otoshimono generally, and Ikaros specifically, I can only say this.
Being in control of Ikaros, even if the Angeloid voluntarily limits which and what extent of her powers she allow her to use, Taylor is officially terrifying.
Being in control of Ikaros, even if the Angeloid voluntarily limits which and what extent of her powers she allow her to use, Taylor is officially terrifying.
Taylor is terrifying by defaut.
She can be adorable or awesome, but she will eventually make someone shit themselves.
- Location
- I thought you had the map?
This is very true, but with the adorable force multiplication agent known as Ikaros walking around calling her Master, and presumably having adverse reactions to anybody trying to harm her, well...
Shit just got real, and that's before the all but inevitable P.R.T./Cauldron stupidity.
Isiri Pudireach
Predictive text can go duck itself
Actually I can see Taylor at least telling Ikaros that Master has bad connotations, so that part might not be a problem. Although the collar might be a problem.
- Location
- I thought you had the map?
The moment she does that, she guarantees Ikaros doesn't stop, or just assumes she has issues being referred to by the masculine form and just calls her Mistress instead.
- Pronouns
- Mr.
Hahahaha, poor Taylor, or should I say poor everyone else. Lol.
Thanks for writing and sharing this.
Thanks for writing and sharing this.
- Location
- I thought you had the map?
Taylor: "Ikaros? I need to tell you something."
Ikaros: "What is your wish, Master?"
Taylor: "I...it's that. You can't call me Master, okay? It carries a lot of seriously bad weight."
Ikaros: "I was not aware it was a concern, Mistress, but very well."
Taylor: " No! No, you can't call me that either, okay? It gives people the wrong ideas. No calling me Master or Mistress, alright?"
Ikaros: "As you command, Domina."
Taylor: "I quit."
@Isiri Pudireach
Ikaros: "What is your wish, Master?"
Taylor: "I...it's that. You can't call me Master, okay? It carries a lot of seriously bad weight."
Ikaros: "I was not aware it was a concern, Mistress, but very well."
Taylor: " No! No, you can't call me that either, okay? It gives people the wrong ideas. No calling me Master or Mistress, alright?"
Ikaros: "As you command, Domina."
Taylor: "I quit."
@Isiri Pudireach
Isiri Pudireach
Predictive text can go duck itself
Taylor: "Now your just fucking with me."
Ikaros: "As you wish Domina." Que reenactment of THAT scene from episode one.
- Location
- Earth, Sol System, Milky Way Galaxy
In the far-flung future, Minos is kissing the feet of the true ruler of the Synapse. The Queen of Escalation. All shall fear her and her mighty army of angels as they run around to HALP everyone. May the gods have mercy on their HALPed souls.
Don't worry. Neither of you approaches the illustrious career of dropping stories of the Lord of Rejection that is Ryuugi and (almost) no one complains when he drops a chapter, new story or not.
Last edited:
- Location
- America
Taylor is now safely in the comforting wings of the defcon zero angel waifu. Please tell me their heroic debut on the world stage involves ganking the Smurf as she descends from orbit. Also Haven makes a surprise trip to BB when?
It'll take a long time, methinks, and this is a lower priority in comparison to my other story, "Firepower"; that said, my priorities may shift in the future.
Ikaros is awesome and all should know about her awesomeness;
A star cannot shine alone, and thus there will be more angeloids.
I might lift some things from HeLP (I'm sticking to that since it's WAY funnier in the current context than SnO) but for the most part, expect a more 'real' take on the real power of an angeloid, taken fully into context the technology and the civilization behind them.
NO MORE SPOILERS!
- Location
- I thought you had the map?
Fear not, villains of Brockton Bay.
Pants-shitting terror is more appropriate.
1 - Genesis
Taylor felt a warm ray of sunshine set upon her eyes.
Begrudgingly, she found the light slowly coaxing her from her comfortable abode of blankets and pillows.
Her room, located in the 2nd floor of her home, had been facing eastwards, towards the bay itself - she'd usually been awoken in this manner by the sun daily, though the last year found her reluctant to unfasten her curtains.
Sitting up and groaning away her slumber, she rubbed her eyes free of the debris of her night sleep, and grasped for her glasses.
Setting the black, bulky plastic frame on the bridge of her nose, she opened her eyes.
And immediately felt pain.
Her eyesight felt wrong as she sensed her pupils attempting to correct the distorted intake of light, all the while ramming a not insubstantial nail straight through her eye sockets.
With a disgruntled moan, she tore the offending accessory from her face and tossed it to the dresser, her mind still clouded.
Remembering the expensive glass inlaid to the ugly plastics, her head snapped as the pain was exacerbated by a spike of adrenaline shooting through her temple - had the glasses broken?
It took her a moment to realize, that no, they were very much intact - though no more charming for it.
It took her another to realize she could see them perfectly. Without her glasses.
Her eyesight started going bad at age six, first noted when she'd sat close to the TV set to read the text on the screen.
At her mother's inquiry, she'd been diagnosed with myopia and given a prescription, that had gradually increased in small increments.
As such, her regular exchange of spectacles had resulted in each pair being as cheap as it could be - combined with the precocious nature of a young and energetic child, those tended to be more practical and less aesthetic.
Nowadays, with her glasses off, she was comparatively helpless, blind as a bat 2 meters out.
Emma had recalled this, and on days she felt particularly 'creative', she'd make her current pair vanish into thin air - a bump in the hall resulted in her wandering the school unseeing, if she forgot to pack her spares.
It said enough about the place that this condition was a decided improvement to her opinion.
Confused, but not quite displeased by this development, she looked around her room from her bed, not unlike a lookout on the crow's nest of a sailboat.
And then she saw the pink.
The events of yesterday blasted through her mindscape like a runaway train, and adrenaline shot through her temple again, inducing another spike of pain,
The locker, the pink on a dark sky, and the winged girl.
Her words from last night blared through her head like a foghorn.
The girl, currently sitting on the small, dark green rug, seemed to take her confused panic as a sign to speak.
"Good morning, Master. I am ready to accept your desires. Please Command me."
She didn't help much.
"What- who- YOU! What are you doing here! How did I get in here?! Did you break into my house?! What did you do to my eyes! And WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!"
The words erupted from Taylor's mouth like a freighter that broke from it's mooring, leaving her panting for air - her lungs that had been peacefully intaking air in her sleep seemed to protest the unwelcome effort.
The pink-haired girl (and wasn't that something - how did she get the two-tone look to WORK?) simply nodded at her diatribe, before calmly responding.
"I am a Pet-class Angeloid. Last night, I was given to your service. Upon discovering you in a biological hazard environment, suffering open lacerations and blunt force trauma, I had requisitioned medical aid and removed you from the site of the incident. Upon your return to consciousness, I have carried through my Imprinting process, binding myself to your service. Shortly afterwards, as you have lost consciousness, I had retrieved your personal contact information from the site of the incident, designated 'Winslow Highschool', and carried you to your residence. I utilized your key to enter and placed you in your bed."
"My name," she helpfully added, "is Ikaros."
Taylor took a moment to process that information.
Then she took a couple more.
Eventually, her dazed stare into the nothingness of space had caused alarm in the emotionless mien of the Angel-something, causing the odd girl to tilt her head sideways.
"Master? Do you require assistance?"
Taylor considered her words.
She then decided that the world didn't make sense and that it was decidedly NOT her problem - she had enough on her plate as it is.
"I need tea. Earl grey sounds wonderful right now," she spoke to herself.
Apparently, the girl on the carpet didn't get that last part.
She withdrew her right hand from her knee and put it between her breasts why did she- and suddenly pulled out a silver card.
Lacking a resemblance to any deck she was familiar with, the silver thing was inlaid with a collection of fractured circles, two diagonally placed purple gem-like buttons framing a central gem of similar fashion, sprouting wings from it's top and bottom.
And as if that wasn't odd enough for her morning, the card exploded.
In front of her gaping mouth, the card had erupted into a nebula of light, that had deposited after a few seconds a device into the lap of the girl. The oddly shaped box had a screen, a smattering of dials and buttons, a large hatch at the front, and oddly enough, a pair of wings, for some reason.
It looked like some prop from a kids' show, for all intents and purposes.
Then the girl fiddled with it, causing it to make a *ding* and open the front hatch.
She then removed what was inside, set the device aside, and rose to her feet.
Taylor found herself looking up, as the girl had a statuesque build, almost as tall as herself - the wings (she really did have wings!) lending her presence another layer.
At the foot of her bedside, the girl went on one knee, presenting the contents of her hand;
A single mug, full of Earl Grey tea.
That smelled like heaven.
Still in a daze, Taylor accepted the cup, murmuring a confused 'Thanks', before taking a cautious sip.
As the hot fluid, not boiling but not too cold, warmed her mouth and cleared the detritus of the night, Taylor let out a small moan as the beverage caressed her taste buds, as if brewed from pure comfort rather than simple mortal tea leaves and herbs.
All of a sudden, the mug was empty.
At this discovery, Taylor felt devastated; the mug had betrayed her.
"Would you care for another cup?" the girl prompted.
Taylor nodded her head rapidly.
Another *ding*, a few more moans and a slightly longer indulgence in the beverage, and she entrusted the mug back into the girl's waiting hands.
She silently accepted, depositing the mug back into the opened space in the machine, which then closed, before poofing itself back into a card, and then nestled back between the other girl's bounties.
Now, properly caffeinated and feeling suspiciously calm, Taylor had the proper faculties to appreciate the situation.
"What in the actual fuck."
----------------------
Author's note:
Taylor had a rather rough morning after, but fortunately for her, her partner took full responsibility for the state of her body, and stayed over while observing her manners; and now they're making her breakfast!
On a more serious note;
While Firepower is my beautiful firstborn, my big Project (capital P; you see my big P?), Throne is the adorable little brother that likes to eat glue and play with fireworks and the neighbors' cat.
I take it's lack of seriousness very seriously.
I will say this now - if you have a fear of angels, crack, mammaries that may or may not obey normal sensibilities and/or the laws of gravity, probs not your cup of joe.
Feel free to bitch about it in the comments - but I can guarantee with some unspecified amounts of percentages of certainty that you'll come out as that one tool that storms out of a 3rd grade school play claiming amateur performance and inferior showmanship.
Now, if you want to bitch about MY writing, rather than my story, feel fucking free - can't be worse than the holocaust.
Virtual cookies go to those who manage to divine the process of things from my breadcrumbs.
Note: Those are Ketogenic cookies - I'm watching my weight.
Begrudgingly, she found the light slowly coaxing her from her comfortable abode of blankets and pillows.
Her room, located in the 2nd floor of her home, had been facing eastwards, towards the bay itself - she'd usually been awoken in this manner by the sun daily, though the last year found her reluctant to unfasten her curtains.
Sitting up and groaning away her slumber, she rubbed her eyes free of the debris of her night sleep, and grasped for her glasses.
Setting the black, bulky plastic frame on the bridge of her nose, she opened her eyes.
And immediately felt pain.
Her eyesight felt wrong as she sensed her pupils attempting to correct the distorted intake of light, all the while ramming a not insubstantial nail straight through her eye sockets.
With a disgruntled moan, she tore the offending accessory from her face and tossed it to the dresser, her mind still clouded.
Remembering the expensive glass inlaid to the ugly plastics, her head snapped as the pain was exacerbated by a spike of adrenaline shooting through her temple - had the glasses broken?
It took her a moment to realize, that no, they were very much intact - though no more charming for it.
It took her another to realize she could see them perfectly. Without her glasses.
Her eyesight started going bad at age six, first noted when she'd sat close to the TV set to read the text on the screen.
At her mother's inquiry, she'd been diagnosed with myopia and given a prescription, that had gradually increased in small increments.
As such, her regular exchange of spectacles had resulted in each pair being as cheap as it could be - combined with the precocious nature of a young and energetic child, those tended to be more practical and less aesthetic.
Nowadays, with her glasses off, she was comparatively helpless, blind as a bat 2 meters out.
Emma had recalled this, and on days she felt particularly 'creative', she'd make her current pair vanish into thin air - a bump in the hall resulted in her wandering the school unseeing, if she forgot to pack her spares.
It said enough about the place that this condition was a decided improvement to her opinion.
Confused, but not quite displeased by this development, she looked around her room from her bed, not unlike a lookout on the crow's nest of a sailboat.
And then she saw the pink.
The events of yesterday blasted through her mindscape like a runaway train, and adrenaline shot through her temple again, inducing another spike of pain,
The locker, the pink on a dark sky, and the winged girl.
Her words from last night blared through her head like a foghorn.
The girl, currently sitting on the small, dark green rug, seemed to take her confused panic as a sign to speak.
"Good morning, Master. I am ready to accept your desires. Please Command me."
She didn't help much.
"What- who- YOU! What are you doing here! How did I get in here?! Did you break into my house?! What did you do to my eyes! And WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!"
The words erupted from Taylor's mouth like a freighter that broke from it's mooring, leaving her panting for air - her lungs that had been peacefully intaking air in her sleep seemed to protest the unwelcome effort.
The pink-haired girl (and wasn't that something - how did she get the two-tone look to WORK?) simply nodded at her diatribe, before calmly responding.
"I am a Pet-class Angeloid. Last night, I was given to your service. Upon discovering you in a biological hazard environment, suffering open lacerations and blunt force trauma, I had requisitioned medical aid and removed you from the site of the incident. Upon your return to consciousness, I have carried through my Imprinting process, binding myself to your service. Shortly afterwards, as you have lost consciousness, I had retrieved your personal contact information from the site of the incident, designated 'Winslow Highschool', and carried you to your residence. I utilized your key to enter and placed you in your bed."
"My name," she helpfully added, "is Ikaros."
Taylor took a moment to process that information.
Then she took a couple more.
Eventually, her dazed stare into the nothingness of space had caused alarm in the emotionless mien of the Angel-something, causing the odd girl to tilt her head sideways.
"Master? Do you require assistance?"
Taylor considered her words.
She then decided that the world didn't make sense and that it was decidedly NOT her problem - she had enough on her plate as it is.
"I need tea. Earl grey sounds wonderful right now," she spoke to herself.
Apparently, the girl on the carpet didn't get that last part.
She withdrew her right hand from her knee and put it between her breasts why did she- and suddenly pulled out a silver card.
Lacking a resemblance to any deck she was familiar with, the silver thing was inlaid with a collection of fractured circles, two diagonally placed purple gem-like buttons framing a central gem of similar fashion, sprouting wings from it's top and bottom.
And as if that wasn't odd enough for her morning, the card exploded.
In front of her gaping mouth, the card had erupted into a nebula of light, that had deposited after a few seconds a device into the lap of the girl. The oddly shaped box had a screen, a smattering of dials and buttons, a large hatch at the front, and oddly enough, a pair of wings, for some reason.
It looked like some prop from a kids' show, for all intents and purposes.
Then the girl fiddled with it, causing it to make a *ding* and open the front hatch.
She then removed what was inside, set the device aside, and rose to her feet.
Taylor found herself looking up, as the girl had a statuesque build, almost as tall as herself - the wings (she really did have wings!) lending her presence another layer.
At the foot of her bedside, the girl went on one knee, presenting the contents of her hand;
A single mug, full of Earl Grey tea.
That smelled like heaven.
Still in a daze, Taylor accepted the cup, murmuring a confused 'Thanks', before taking a cautious sip.
As the hot fluid, not boiling but not too cold, warmed her mouth and cleared the detritus of the night, Taylor let out a small moan as the beverage caressed her taste buds, as if brewed from pure comfort rather than simple mortal tea leaves and herbs.
All of a sudden, the mug was empty.
At this discovery, Taylor felt devastated; the mug had betrayed her.
"Would you care for another cup?" the girl prompted.
Taylor nodded her head rapidly.
Another *ding*, a few more moans and a slightly longer indulgence in the beverage, and she entrusted the mug back into the girl's waiting hands.
She silently accepted, depositing the mug back into the opened space in the machine, which then closed, before poofing itself back into a card, and then nestled back between the other girl's bounties.
Now, properly caffeinated and feeling suspiciously calm, Taylor had the proper faculties to appreciate the situation.
"What in the actual fuck."
----------------------
Author's note:
Taylor had a rather rough morning after, but fortunately for her, her partner took full responsibility for the state of her body, and stayed over while observing her manners; and now they're making her breakfast!
On a more serious note;
While Firepower is my beautiful firstborn, my big Project (capital P; you see my big P?), Throne is the adorable little brother that likes to eat glue and play with fireworks and the neighbors' cat.
I take it's lack of seriousness very seriously.
I will say this now - if you have a fear of angels, crack, mammaries that may or may not obey normal sensibilities and/or the laws of gravity, probs not your cup of joe.
Feel free to bitch about it in the comments - but I can guarantee with some unspecified amounts of percentages of certainty that you'll come out as that one tool that storms out of a 3rd grade school play claiming amateur performance and inferior showmanship.
Now, if you want to bitch about MY writing, rather than my story, feel fucking free - can't be worse than the holocaust.
Virtual cookies go to those who manage to divine the process of things from my breadcrumbs.
Note: Those are Ketogenic cookies - I'm watching my weight.
The Trio are in for a world of terror if/when they realize just how powerful Ikaros is.
reasoning: Ikaros is basically a case 53, that is permanently and obviously bound to Taylor. Ikaros also has no idea that she needs to hide her abilities, (there's a decent chance that she's already outed herself) so the PRT has a general idea of her abilities. And when Taylor doesn't use the power at her hand to be a 'predator' it'll break Sophia.
reasoning: Ikaros is basically a case 53, that is permanently and obviously bound to Taylor. Ikaros also has no idea that she needs to hide her abilities, (there's a decent chance that she's already outed herself) so the PRT has a general idea of her abilities. And when Taylor doesn't use the power at her hand to be a 'predator' it'll break Sophia.
Isiri Pudireach
Predictive text can go duck itself
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I would be disappointed if you felt otherwise, HeLP is def one of those series that would lose its charm if it were too serious.
Shhh, Taylor your dad is still asleep and hasn't had his caffeine yet, so you should just quietly accept this and give Best Girl a hug.