A crossover between Worm and Final Fantasy, wherein Taylor unlocks the Job system.
Warrior of Dusk: Taylor's Attempt to Dance/Firaga/Suplex All the Things REDUX (Worm/Final Fantasy)
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Warrior of Dusk: Taylor's Quest to Dance/Firaga/Suplex All the Things REDUX (Worm/Final Fantasy)
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Prologue 1
UnwelcomeStorm
BARK! BARK! BARK!
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Author's Notes
So, what is this? It's an edited and cleaned-up version of my first quest. The original version was a sprawling mess of mechanics, and while I like to think I'm better at writing quests nowadays, this will not be one. Warrior of Dusk is getting reincarnated as an actual story, which should make it easier to read and to write.
Okay, what else is it? It's a crossover of Worm and the Final Fantasy series, most particularly 5 and X-2, as those are the best incarnations of the main series that utilize the Jobs system, and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. For those unfamiliar, the Jobs system is a game mechanic where instead of having pre-determined stats and abilities, characters can switch in and out of different Job Classes to fulfill different roles; if you need rare items, you slot someone into Thief, if you need obscene amounts of HP you go for Monk, and so on and so forth. In story format, this means Warrior of Dusk has its roots in Gamer fics and LitRPGs. Don't worry about it too much: this time around I'm cutting out the tedious dice rolls and constant character sheet updates.
This is one of my earlier works on this site, so the quality is a little iffy in earlier chapters, but it smooths out. With that said, please enjoy.
Prologue
January 10, 2011
I walked towards my locker, trying very studiously to ignore the floating glowing things in my vision. They just bobbed contentedly, just out of direct sight, entirely heedless of my ire. I'd noticed them over a week ago, and spent a good couple of hours searching for the hidden mirrors and lights I was sure the Trio were using to mess with me. With growing unease I'd figured out that nobody was going to odd lengths to make me think I was seeing four glowing crystals hovering around me; I just was. And since I certainly wasn't going to admit to hallucinations, life went on as normal.
Depressingly, soul-crushingly normal. And speaking of depressing...
The closer I got to my locker, the more I noticed the staring and whispering, and the stench. It wasn't a stretch of the imagination to think the source was my locker, because with the Trio running the school, why would it be anything else? Sure enough, I started to gag as I got closer to my destination. I could even see dribbles of something leaking from the bottom of the metal. And as much as opening that rancid thing was a terrible idea, I still needed my books, or whatever was left of them. I spun the dial, held my breath, and opened the locker door. I had just enough time to register a squalid, festering mass of something before a hand grabbed my hair and pushed me forwards.
I snapped my hands out to the sides and braced against the edges of the open maw of despair. My attacker grunted at the unexpected resistance. "Get... in!" Sophia. Of course it was Sophia.
"No!"
"Get in there!"
"NO!"
Taylor Hebert's Last Stand was ended by a swift kick to the back of my knee, unbalancing me and pitching me forward into the filth. And directly into one of the Crystals, floating serenely in front of me. My vision filled with light, and... text?
CHOOSE YOUR STARTING CLASS
Monk
A peerless martial artist, the monk is a patient soul with a will of iron. Uses Blitz command to unleash combinations of strikes and empowered hits.
Pros: Excellent physical stat growth, death-defying stunts of martial prowess
Cons: No magical abilities, limited equipment options
Black Mage
A sorcerer of terrible power, tapped into the might of the elements themselves. Uses Black Magic to rain destruction upon foes.
Pros: Excellent magical power, the only class able to learn the highest order of Black Magic spells
Cons: Extremely fragile
Time Mage
A mystic of a different color, the Time Mage manipulates magic to endow allies with enhancements and foes with weakening effects with Time Magic.
Pros: Arguably the best Supporting class, and the only means to access spells such as Haste and Comet
Cons: Very little in the way of offensive options, both magical and physical. Silly hats.
Berserker
An uncontrollable, living ball of violence. The Berserker is always afflicted by its Berserk command, but gains increased power for being reckless.
Pros: Very high strength and toughness, able to equip any non magic-based weapon, including axes and greatswords with ease.
Cons: MAIM KILL BURN
I had just enough time to register the crystal vanishing-- and the words floating in front of me-- before strength flooded my limbs. Every muscle, every tendon, every bone felt alive and solid for one brief, wonderful moment. It was something more than physical; I felt the strength of Earth. I was the bones of the mountains.
The Crystal of Earth has been acquired.
The knowledge of ancient heroes fills your soul: Monk class unlocked!
I knew, as clearly as I knew my name was Taylor Rose Hebert, that I was in possession of something amazing. I had the power of something greater than myself.
The first thing I did with it was to ram my elbow back into Sophia's stomach.
She doubled over with a whoof, releasing her grip on my hair and clutching at her stomach. I turned around before she could recover--
Fight
>Blitz
-->Suplex
--and grabbed hold of her. She struggled, but my grip was iron.
"I! Am so sick!" My legs tensed.
"Of your shiiiiiiit!" I jumped, carrying Sophia with me, and flipped the two of us around in midair before slamming Sophia into the hallway tiles with an audible BOOM. The other students had backed off, but in true Winslow spirit had begun to form a circle, chanting, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" Sophia scrambled to her feet with little grace, but admirable speed. Something was above her head, and I goggled at it. What the hell was that even supposed to be?
Sophia Hess
<Bully>
Level 15
I shouldn't have let it distract me. Sophia charged ahead with a shout of "You are so DEAD!" and socked me right in the jaw. Things quickly dissolved into a no-holds brawl. I exchanged blows with her, my newfound solidity helping to keep me going, and every memory of Sophia's smirking face as she broke me down powering my strikes. But Sophia was an athlete, an aggressive one at that, and a black girl in the midst of E88 besides. This force filling me was strong, but Sophia was still overpowering me. I was bleeding, I felt hurt, I felt exhaustion creeping in, I felt
Fight
Blitz
>Limit: Combo Beat
like I could take on the world.
* * *
"Fighting in the hallways. What were you two thinking?"
That the world might actually be overcome, apparently. Principal Blackwell obviously disagreed. I risked a glance at Sophia, sitting a good foot or so away. Her face was swelling into purple bruises, far more than my own. For once, Sophia wasn't quite as in sync with the world's habit of refusing to be denied. I couldn't suppress a smile. An irate a-HEM made me look back at Ms. Blackwell. She had words above her as well:
Ms. Blackwell
<School Principal>
Level 7
I wondered for a moment why it didn't have her full name listed, like Sophia's did. I tried to think if I'd even known Blackwell's first name before today; I didn't. And to be honest, I didn't particularly care enough to find out.
"This behavior cannot be tolerated. While witnesses couldn't say exactly who started things..."
"Hebert fucking elbowed me in the gut!"
"Sophia tried to shove me into my locker! After she'd filled it with that garbage!"
Blackwell's expression darkened. "Ms. Hebert, there is no evidence as to whom vandalized your locker, and thus is not part of this discussion. When and if the perpetrators are found, they will be dealt with. Is that clear?"
Sure they would. I grit my teeth. "Crystal."
"You've both earned one week's suspension from school. Ms. Hess, you are also to be suspended from the school track team for the season--"
"WHAT?!"
"--and Ms. Hebert, as you do not participate in any extracurricular activities," she said, and I could almost hear the sneer in her voice, "You will face an additional week of detentions. Now get out of my office, both of you. Security will escort you out."
I got out of my chair, moving slowly so that Sophia had to leave before I did. Maybe this way, she wouldn't have time to whine to the principal to reduce her sentence. She shot me a glare that, had she been a parahuman, surely would have reduced me to a pile of ashes. A security officer-- the one who'd come to break up the fight, in fact-- was waiting just outside the door for us. I felt a stab of pity for this man. I imagine a security guard at Winslow is overworked and underpaid.
As we were walked out, kept separate by the security guard's body, I thought back to the fight. I'd never moved like that before. I didn't know how-- except now I did. That strength, that surety... I could still feel it, a warm glow in my chest. Was this what being a parahuman felt like? I wasn't sure what the hovering words or translucent blue windows of text had to do with being a cape, but...
A quick flick of my eyes and a thought brought up what I could only describe as a menu screen, superimposed over my vision. A notification after the fight had been broken up had informed me that I was now Level 2, and that Sophia had 'dropped' three Essence of Wind. I'd seen these terms used somewhere before, but it took me a moment to remember where. Emma's older sister had played video games, on an old grey brick of a machine, and we'd watched her play on occasion when I was visiting. Having a power patterned on games was weird, but parahumans came in all sorts, so maybe it wasn't all that strange? I could use a better source of information, though. I flicked my eyes into the Inventory window, then focused on the item that was listed:
Essence of Wind
A material dropped by passionate foes. Used to imbue equipment and to unlock power of the Wind crystal.
Did that mean what I thought it meant? That there was more? It couldn't. Nobody gained more powers. Excepting maybe Eidolon, of course, but...
The school entrance abruptly loomed in front of me--I'd completely spaced out--and it suddenly dawned on me what was going on. I'd just gotten suspended for fighting in school.
Oh god.
What was I going to tell Dad?
* * *
There really wasn't any way for me to hide the bruises, I thought as I rode the bus home. People were sneaking glances at my face and the obvious marks of violence. I drew my hoodie a bit further over my face, which probably only made me look like a gang member. I sighed. Dad was going to freak. And explaining the bruises would mean mentioning the suspension, and why I'd been fighting, and that was bound to lead to discussion of the Trio...
My stomach clenched. This was going to suck.
Still, what was the alternative? I pondered it as I walked the remaining distance from the bus stop to home. I'd been keeping quiet and hiding the bullying from Dad. At first out of hope that it would end, and eventually out of resignation that nothing could be done about it. Maybe Sophia would back off now that I'd kicked her up and down a hallway, but I doubted it. She was already off the track team, so there wasn't even that hanging over her head anymore to keep her from escalating. Now that I'd fought once, it was sure to happen again. Was I supposed to keep that from Dad as well? Try to hide the suspension by leaving the house during school hours? Let the lies build up until there was nothing left between us?
As much as Dad and I had grown apart, I couldn't do that to him. Omission was one thing, sneaking around behind his back was another. I finally reached the house, and skipped the rotted step as I unlocked the door and entered. Dad would be at work for several hours yet, so the house was silent and dusty and alone. I didn't want it to continue being like this. It would hurt, but maybe sitting down for a talk would help.
But first, I decided, I'd start on making Dad's favorite lasagna. Honesty and bribery weren't entirely mutually exclusive, probably.
* * *
"Taylor, I'm home!"
"Hey Dad." I called over my shoulder and shut the oven, then set the timer. There; dinner would be ready in about an hour. That was plenty of time. "How was work?"
Dad walked into the kitchen, setting his battered briefcase and his coat down on the table. "The usual, I'm afraid. More people than jobs. How was school, kidd--- TAYLOR WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE!"
"Well..."
You confessed a difficult truth.
Courage has increased!
Devotion has increased!
* * *
Dinner, after that, was a tense affair. Dad would look up, see my bruises and wince, then look back down at his meal. Or he would start to speak, halt, then sigh and say nothing. He hadn't taken the news about Emma very well. Or about Sophia and what she'd tried to do involving my locker. Or about the school's continued indifference... or much of anything I had to say, really. There were tears, and some assurances and 'I love yous,' but now there was mostly silence, interspersed by the crunching of garlic bread.
I finished up, then put my plate in the sink with the other dishes to soak. It was only approaching 8pm, but it had been an eventful day, to say the least. "I'm headed to bed... g'night, Dad."
"Ah-- goodnight, Taylor. Sweet dreams." I patted his shoulder, then went upstairs. If I dreamed, I don't remember.
Morning came, and I woke up feeling more refreshed than I had in... months, at least. Maybe years. Maybe ever. At least part of it was that I was now free from school for a full week. Maybe I should get suspended more often. It's not like the Trio were letting me keep my grades up, anyway. Shelving the thought for the moment, I got dressed and prepared to start my day with my usual run, until I saw myself in the bathroom mirror. My bruises were gone. Completely: no split lip, no black eye, no purpling jaw. I prodded where Sophia had punched me, and felt no pain. Come to think of it, I couldn't remember feeling very hurt yesterday night, even though I hadn't done much more than simply wash my face. I hadn't taped a bag of peas to my eye or anything, either.
I pumped my fists in the air; I may have danced, just a little. Fast healing was a far cry from an Alexandria package, but it was something, and it was confirmation of something I'd barely dared to consider. If I could fight, and I could heal from the damage? I could be a hero.
I fairly skipped downstairs, moving to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast before my run, and I didn't even try to keep the excitement tamped down. I'm gonna be a heee-ro! I'm gonna be a heee-ro! I'm gonna be a---
"G'morning, kidd-- TAYLOR WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE!"
"...uhh..."
Maybe I should have covered the 'by the way I think I'm a cape now' last night.
* * *
I wasn't sure exactly how well Dad was taking the latest news, because once I'd covered the basics he'd simply nodded, then excused himself to go to work. Maybe it was just a little much to process all at once. I barely knew what was going on, myself. Speaking of which...
Once I finished my breakfast and my run, I headed to the nearest library and reserved one of the study rooms with a computer inside, then started browsing through Uber and Leet's YouTube channel. It was technically research, so I felt the use of the room was justified. And it wasn't long before I started needing to take notes. Uber and Leet had a number of things they uploaded onto the internet, and while YouTube didn't let them post videos of their criminal exploits, the pair were nothing if not dedicated to their stated goal of bringing gaming to the masses. They had game reviews and walkthroughs, and guided playthroughs of a few entire games; these, I noticed, were exclusively games imported from Earth Aleph, and I wondered if questionably legal importing was where their ill-gotten gains went to as much as towards Leet's tinkering.
Even with only browsing, it took most of the day to look through the different games covered. Most of them didn't seem relevant to me, since I didn't have a gun and there weren't a lot of chest-high walls scattered around, but in a couple of the older games presented I saw things that looked much more familiar. Once I focused on those I was able to compare the game's menus and interfaces more closely to my own. It would take some more time to really watch, but after today I felt like I had a better grasp of how my power was working. Satisfied, and with my room reservation expired, I left the library.
Walking home in the evening, with the sun starting to set and adding splashes of color to the drab grays and browns of the Docks, knowing that my life had changed... it felt good. And now I had a whole week to play with, to start to make a difference with. I wondered what I should do with it.
Well, I was sure to find something.
So, what is this? It's an edited and cleaned-up version of my first quest. The original version was a sprawling mess of mechanics, and while I like to think I'm better at writing quests nowadays, this will not be one. Warrior of Dusk is getting reincarnated as an actual story, which should make it easier to read and to write.
Okay, what else is it? It's a crossover of Worm and the Final Fantasy series, most particularly 5 and X-2, as those are the best incarnations of the main series that utilize the Jobs system, and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. For those unfamiliar, the Jobs system is a game mechanic where instead of having pre-determined stats and abilities, characters can switch in and out of different Job Classes to fulfill different roles; if you need rare items, you slot someone into Thief, if you need obscene amounts of HP you go for Monk, and so on and so forth. In story format, this means Warrior of Dusk has its roots in Gamer fics and LitRPGs. Don't worry about it too much: this time around I'm cutting out the tedious dice rolls and constant character sheet updates.
This is one of my earlier works on this site, so the quality is a little iffy in earlier chapters, but it smooths out. With that said, please enjoy.
Prologue
January 10, 2011
I walked towards my locker, trying very studiously to ignore the floating glowing things in my vision. They just bobbed contentedly, just out of direct sight, entirely heedless of my ire. I'd noticed them over a week ago, and spent a good couple of hours searching for the hidden mirrors and lights I was sure the Trio were using to mess with me. With growing unease I'd figured out that nobody was going to odd lengths to make me think I was seeing four glowing crystals hovering around me; I just was. And since I certainly wasn't going to admit to hallucinations, life went on as normal.
Depressingly, soul-crushingly normal. And speaking of depressing...
The closer I got to my locker, the more I noticed the staring and whispering, and the stench. It wasn't a stretch of the imagination to think the source was my locker, because with the Trio running the school, why would it be anything else? Sure enough, I started to gag as I got closer to my destination. I could even see dribbles of something leaking from the bottom of the metal. And as much as opening that rancid thing was a terrible idea, I still needed my books, or whatever was left of them. I spun the dial, held my breath, and opened the locker door. I had just enough time to register a squalid, festering mass of something before a hand grabbed my hair and pushed me forwards.
I snapped my hands out to the sides and braced against the edges of the open maw of despair. My attacker grunted at the unexpected resistance. "Get... in!" Sophia. Of course it was Sophia.
"No!"
"Get in there!"
"NO!"
Taylor Hebert's Last Stand was ended by a swift kick to the back of my knee, unbalancing me and pitching me forward into the filth. And directly into one of the Crystals, floating serenely in front of me. My vision filled with light, and... text?
CHOOSE YOUR STARTING CLASS
Monk
A peerless martial artist, the monk is a patient soul with a will of iron. Uses Blitz command to unleash combinations of strikes and empowered hits.
Pros: Excellent physical stat growth, death-defying stunts of martial prowess
Cons: No magical abilities, limited equipment options
Black Mage
A sorcerer of terrible power, tapped into the might of the elements themselves. Uses Black Magic to rain destruction upon foes.
Pros: Excellent magical power, the only class able to learn the highest order of Black Magic spells
Cons: Extremely fragile
Time Mage
A mystic of a different color, the Time Mage manipulates magic to endow allies with enhancements and foes with weakening effects with Time Magic.
Pros: Arguably the best Supporting class, and the only means to access spells such as Haste and Comet
Cons: Very little in the way of offensive options, both magical and physical. Silly hats.
Berserker
An uncontrollable, living ball of violence. The Berserker is always afflicted by its Berserk command, but gains increased power for being reckless.
Pros: Very high strength and toughness, able to equip any non magic-based weapon, including axes and greatswords with ease.
Cons: MAIM KILL BURN
I had just enough time to register the crystal vanishing-- and the words floating in front of me-- before strength flooded my limbs. Every muscle, every tendon, every bone felt alive and solid for one brief, wonderful moment. It was something more than physical; I felt the strength of Earth. I was the bones of the mountains.
The Crystal of Earth has been acquired.
The knowledge of ancient heroes fills your soul: Monk class unlocked!
I knew, as clearly as I knew my name was Taylor Rose Hebert, that I was in possession of something amazing. I had the power of something greater than myself.
The first thing I did with it was to ram my elbow back into Sophia's stomach.
She doubled over with a whoof, releasing her grip on my hair and clutching at her stomach. I turned around before she could recover--
Fight
>Blitz
-->Suplex
--and grabbed hold of her. She struggled, but my grip was iron.
"I! Am so sick!" My legs tensed.
"Of your shiiiiiiit!" I jumped, carrying Sophia with me, and flipped the two of us around in midair before slamming Sophia into the hallway tiles with an audible BOOM. The other students had backed off, but in true Winslow spirit had begun to form a circle, chanting, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" Sophia scrambled to her feet with little grace, but admirable speed. Something was above her head, and I goggled at it. What the hell was that even supposed to be?
Sophia Hess
<Bully>
Level 15
I shouldn't have let it distract me. Sophia charged ahead with a shout of "You are so DEAD!" and socked me right in the jaw. Things quickly dissolved into a no-holds brawl. I exchanged blows with her, my newfound solidity helping to keep me going, and every memory of Sophia's smirking face as she broke me down powering my strikes. But Sophia was an athlete, an aggressive one at that, and a black girl in the midst of E88 besides. This force filling me was strong, but Sophia was still overpowering me. I was bleeding, I felt hurt, I felt exhaustion creeping in, I felt
Fight
Blitz
>Limit: Combo Beat
like I could take on the world.
* * *
"Fighting in the hallways. What were you two thinking?"
That the world might actually be overcome, apparently. Principal Blackwell obviously disagreed. I risked a glance at Sophia, sitting a good foot or so away. Her face was swelling into purple bruises, far more than my own. For once, Sophia wasn't quite as in sync with the world's habit of refusing to be denied. I couldn't suppress a smile. An irate a-HEM made me look back at Ms. Blackwell. She had words above her as well:
Ms. Blackwell
<School Principal>
Level 7
I wondered for a moment why it didn't have her full name listed, like Sophia's did. I tried to think if I'd even known Blackwell's first name before today; I didn't. And to be honest, I didn't particularly care enough to find out.
"This behavior cannot be tolerated. While witnesses couldn't say exactly who started things..."
"Hebert fucking elbowed me in the gut!"
"Sophia tried to shove me into my locker! After she'd filled it with that garbage!"
Blackwell's expression darkened. "Ms. Hebert, there is no evidence as to whom vandalized your locker, and thus is not part of this discussion. When and if the perpetrators are found, they will be dealt with. Is that clear?"
Sure they would. I grit my teeth. "Crystal."
"You've both earned one week's suspension from school. Ms. Hess, you are also to be suspended from the school track team for the season--"
"WHAT?!"
"--and Ms. Hebert, as you do not participate in any extracurricular activities," she said, and I could almost hear the sneer in her voice, "You will face an additional week of detentions. Now get out of my office, both of you. Security will escort you out."
I got out of my chair, moving slowly so that Sophia had to leave before I did. Maybe this way, she wouldn't have time to whine to the principal to reduce her sentence. She shot me a glare that, had she been a parahuman, surely would have reduced me to a pile of ashes. A security officer-- the one who'd come to break up the fight, in fact-- was waiting just outside the door for us. I felt a stab of pity for this man. I imagine a security guard at Winslow is overworked and underpaid.
As we were walked out, kept separate by the security guard's body, I thought back to the fight. I'd never moved like that before. I didn't know how-- except now I did. That strength, that surety... I could still feel it, a warm glow in my chest. Was this what being a parahuman felt like? I wasn't sure what the hovering words or translucent blue windows of text had to do with being a cape, but...
A quick flick of my eyes and a thought brought up what I could only describe as a menu screen, superimposed over my vision. A notification after the fight had been broken up had informed me that I was now Level 2, and that Sophia had 'dropped' three Essence of Wind. I'd seen these terms used somewhere before, but it took me a moment to remember where. Emma's older sister had played video games, on an old grey brick of a machine, and we'd watched her play on occasion when I was visiting. Having a power patterned on games was weird, but parahumans came in all sorts, so maybe it wasn't all that strange? I could use a better source of information, though. I flicked my eyes into the Inventory window, then focused on the item that was listed:
Essence of Wind
A material dropped by passionate foes. Used to imbue equipment and to unlock power of the Wind crystal.
Did that mean what I thought it meant? That there was more? It couldn't. Nobody gained more powers. Excepting maybe Eidolon, of course, but...
The school entrance abruptly loomed in front of me--I'd completely spaced out--and it suddenly dawned on me what was going on. I'd just gotten suspended for fighting in school.
Oh god.
What was I going to tell Dad?
* * *
There really wasn't any way for me to hide the bruises, I thought as I rode the bus home. People were sneaking glances at my face and the obvious marks of violence. I drew my hoodie a bit further over my face, which probably only made me look like a gang member. I sighed. Dad was going to freak. And explaining the bruises would mean mentioning the suspension, and why I'd been fighting, and that was bound to lead to discussion of the Trio...
My stomach clenched. This was going to suck.
Still, what was the alternative? I pondered it as I walked the remaining distance from the bus stop to home. I'd been keeping quiet and hiding the bullying from Dad. At first out of hope that it would end, and eventually out of resignation that nothing could be done about it. Maybe Sophia would back off now that I'd kicked her up and down a hallway, but I doubted it. She was already off the track team, so there wasn't even that hanging over her head anymore to keep her from escalating. Now that I'd fought once, it was sure to happen again. Was I supposed to keep that from Dad as well? Try to hide the suspension by leaving the house during school hours? Let the lies build up until there was nothing left between us?
As much as Dad and I had grown apart, I couldn't do that to him. Omission was one thing, sneaking around behind his back was another. I finally reached the house, and skipped the rotted step as I unlocked the door and entered. Dad would be at work for several hours yet, so the house was silent and dusty and alone. I didn't want it to continue being like this. It would hurt, but maybe sitting down for a talk would help.
But first, I decided, I'd start on making Dad's favorite lasagna. Honesty and bribery weren't entirely mutually exclusive, probably.
* * *
"Taylor, I'm home!"
"Hey Dad." I called over my shoulder and shut the oven, then set the timer. There; dinner would be ready in about an hour. That was plenty of time. "How was work?"
Dad walked into the kitchen, setting his battered briefcase and his coat down on the table. "The usual, I'm afraid. More people than jobs. How was school, kidd--- TAYLOR WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE!"
"Well..."
You confessed a difficult truth.
Courage has increased!
Devotion has increased!
* * *
Dinner, after that, was a tense affair. Dad would look up, see my bruises and wince, then look back down at his meal. Or he would start to speak, halt, then sigh and say nothing. He hadn't taken the news about Emma very well. Or about Sophia and what she'd tried to do involving my locker. Or about the school's continued indifference... or much of anything I had to say, really. There were tears, and some assurances and 'I love yous,' but now there was mostly silence, interspersed by the crunching of garlic bread.
I finished up, then put my plate in the sink with the other dishes to soak. It was only approaching 8pm, but it had been an eventful day, to say the least. "I'm headed to bed... g'night, Dad."
"Ah-- goodnight, Taylor. Sweet dreams." I patted his shoulder, then went upstairs. If I dreamed, I don't remember.
Morning came, and I woke up feeling more refreshed than I had in... months, at least. Maybe years. Maybe ever. At least part of it was that I was now free from school for a full week. Maybe I should get suspended more often. It's not like the Trio were letting me keep my grades up, anyway. Shelving the thought for the moment, I got dressed and prepared to start my day with my usual run, until I saw myself in the bathroom mirror. My bruises were gone. Completely: no split lip, no black eye, no purpling jaw. I prodded where Sophia had punched me, and felt no pain. Come to think of it, I couldn't remember feeling very hurt yesterday night, even though I hadn't done much more than simply wash my face. I hadn't taped a bag of peas to my eye or anything, either.
I pumped my fists in the air; I may have danced, just a little. Fast healing was a far cry from an Alexandria package, but it was something, and it was confirmation of something I'd barely dared to consider. If I could fight, and I could heal from the damage? I could be a hero.
I fairly skipped downstairs, moving to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast before my run, and I didn't even try to keep the excitement tamped down. I'm gonna be a heee-ro! I'm gonna be a heee-ro! I'm gonna be a---
"G'morning, kidd-- TAYLOR WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE!"
"...uhh..."
Maybe I should have covered the 'by the way I think I'm a cape now' last night.
* * *
I wasn't sure exactly how well Dad was taking the latest news, because once I'd covered the basics he'd simply nodded, then excused himself to go to work. Maybe it was just a little much to process all at once. I barely knew what was going on, myself. Speaking of which...
Once I finished my breakfast and my run, I headed to the nearest library and reserved one of the study rooms with a computer inside, then started browsing through Uber and Leet's YouTube channel. It was technically research, so I felt the use of the room was justified. And it wasn't long before I started needing to take notes. Uber and Leet had a number of things they uploaded onto the internet, and while YouTube didn't let them post videos of their criminal exploits, the pair were nothing if not dedicated to their stated goal of bringing gaming to the masses. They had game reviews and walkthroughs, and guided playthroughs of a few entire games; these, I noticed, were exclusively games imported from Earth Aleph, and I wondered if questionably legal importing was where their ill-gotten gains went to as much as towards Leet's tinkering.
Even with only browsing, it took most of the day to look through the different games covered. Most of them didn't seem relevant to me, since I didn't have a gun and there weren't a lot of chest-high walls scattered around, but in a couple of the older games presented I saw things that looked much more familiar. Once I focused on those I was able to compare the game's menus and interfaces more closely to my own. It would take some more time to really watch, but after today I felt like I had a better grasp of how my power was working. Satisfied, and with my room reservation expired, I left the library.
Walking home in the evening, with the sun starting to set and adding splashes of color to the drab grays and browns of the Docks, knowing that my life had changed... it felt good. And now I had a whole week to play with, to start to make a difference with. I wondered what I should do with it.
Well, I was sure to find something.
Prologue 2
UnwelcomeStorm
BARK! BARK! BARK!
- Location
- United States
January 11-15, 2011
Knowledge was power. It was something that Mom had sworn by, even if maybe not in those exact words, and if I was going to be a hero, I would need as much power as I could get. I decided I'd better lay some foundations into acquiring that power by following Mom's adage and do some research into local parahumans. I didn't want to be caught not knowing if I should greet or run away from any cape I met on the street. I was sure that with some research on the PHO wiki, I'd have a better understanding of local capes by the end of the week.
On top of that, it occurred to me that this was a good time to give Winslow the finger. If I could raise my grades outside of school and during my upcoming detentions, away from the influence and sabotage of the Trio, it'd paint a pretty damning picture... one to go along with all the other damning pictures. Winslow had a whole damn mural of my complaints against the Trio, by now. There was no reason to think that this time would be any different. I was sliding back into that pall of gloomy thoughts I'd lived in for the past year, but for once the thought of Winslow's passivity didn't weigh on me. Nothing had changed-- except me. Now, there was that warmth in my chest, suffusing my limbs and buoying me up. It was hard to feel hopeless with that connection I now felt.
Sure, maybe the school wouldn't do anything about the Trio. And sure, maybe I could just let them destroy my grades, keep me from entering a university in a few years. I could just float along and join the Protectorate when I graduated, and let that be my only job. But Mom wouldn't have wanted that, and neither did I. Nothing would change if I accepted that defeat, so I had to keep trying.
You chose a path of wisdom.
Devotion has increased!
Hope has increased!
The next day, I looked up Winslow's main office number in the phone book first thing in the morning, and gave them a call. A tired (already? at 7:00?) voice picked up on the fourth ring.
"Winslow Administrative Office, how can I help you?"
"Good morning! My name is Taylor Hebert. I'm currently on suspension, so I was wanting to swing by today and pick up my assignments for the week from all my teachers? Oh, and I was hoping to re-do some that got, uh... ruined."
"Please e-mail your teachers for that---"
"I don't have a computer printer at home. And Art class was starting sculpture, which I'm pretty sure can't be photocopied."
The woman on the line huffed. How dare I ask her to do work.
"Very well, Miss Hebert, I'll send a note to all your teachers. Come by before the end of class and I'll have a packet for you at the office, if your teachers decide to send any work home with you."
"Great, I'll be there around two this afternoon. Bye." Yeah, if they want to send work home. I made a mental note to ask for a hall pass and supervisory security guard, to talk to my teachers directly if need be. I hung up the phone and quickly sat down for breakfast before my eggs cooled. I was buttering some toast when I noticed Dad looking at me funny.
"Uh... what?"
"You're going to school?"
I nodded. "I want to pick up my homework and such, maybe get some extra credit and re-dos on some older work. I've got a chance to work without the Trio butting in, so it's a good opportunity to get my grades up, y'know?" At that, Dad's shoulders visibly relaxed, and I saw him smile for the first time in days.
"That's... good to hear, Taylor. Great, even. I was worried-- I thought you'd immediately start sneaking out to go look for trouble with the gangs..."
I swallowed my mouthful of toast. Oh. I hadn't realized. Dad must have been freaking out, since he found out I had powers. Parahumans tended to get snapped up by gangs, or snapped in half by gangs, and fairly quickly in Brockton Bay. After Mom had gotten taken from us so suddenly, he must have been wracked with thoughts of his daughter going out and, I dunno, running into Lung on her first night out or something equally horrible. I quickly shook my head.
"Oh, Dad, no. I want to go out--I really do--but that doesn't mean I can just abandon my normal life." It doesn't mean I will just abandon you.
"I..." He stopped, then took a drink of juice before continuing. His voice sounded a bit thick. "I know I can't-- you're so much like your mother. Once you get a goal in mind nothing can turn you from it... okay. Why don't we maybe hash out some... I guess ground rules, for going out, or-- no, that sounds bad. Taylor, why don't we talk more about what you want to do when I get home?" He smiled, hope clear on his face. How long had it been since he'd wanted to be involved with my life?
"Sure, dad. That sounds great."
"Okay." He cleared away his plate, picked up his coat and battered briefcase, then paused, turning back before he opened the door. "And, Taylor... now that I think of it, there's some old things of your mother's that... well, maybe you'd like to use them now."
He left before I could ask what that meant. Well, I guess I'd just have to find out later. Several new 'windows' of text popped up in my sight, demanding my attention.
You soothed your father's heartache.
Hope has increased.
Devotion has greatly increased.
The Crystal of Water has been acquired.
You may choose to unlock one (1) new Job.
I'd been right! I had no idea yet what the other stuff meant, but this was huge. I felt giddy from my scalp to my toes. I couldn't even focus on the wider implications right now. I took a good look at my options.
Time Mage
A mystic of a different color, the Time Mage manipulates magic to endow allies with enhancements and foes with weakening effects with Time Magic.
Pros: Arguably the best Supporting class, and the only means to access spells such as Haste and Comet
Cons: Very little in the way of offensive options, both magical and physical. Silly hats.
Samurai
Solemn masters of the way of Bushido, these warriors are fearsome opponents in battle. Samurai use powerful sword strikes and secret arts to debilitate foes and remove enemy advantages.
Pros: Good offense and selection of debuffs.
Cons: Speed is tied heavily to equipment. No magical attacks.
Bard
Creative and peaceful musicians, Bards can use Sing to empower allies with a variety of powerful beneficial effects.
Pros: Very powerful Buffs for allies, with a wide range of effect.
Cons: Little to no offensive or defensive options.
Thief
Sly and quick, the Thief can use Sleight of Hand to steal items, trick enemies, and escape from nearly any situation.
Pros: Very agile and evasive, can use Steal.
Cons: Limited equipment options and middling physical attack.
Special: Lucky
Samurai sounded useful, but I didn't have a sword and it was maybe not the best idea to take on an Eastern theme in Brockton Bay. And on second thought, I already had a fighty power with Monk, so support would be great. I selected Time Mage, and felt a light in my soul bloom.
* * *
I got to Winslow just after 2pm, like I'd said, and managed to get to the main office without spotting Emma or her cronies. To my surprise, the receptionist (who was every bit as worn and vaguely sour-faced as I'd imagined) handed me a thick folder full of assignments from my classes. That was considerably more homework than I'd thought I'd get, so maybe I was lucky for once and managed to get some extra credit assignments. It would probably take me the rest of the week to do, with little time for much else, but at the end my grades would be considerably more stable, and that was sure to pay dividends. I decided to make a quick stop at the school's library to see if I could snag a few extra textbooks, since mine had been in my locker. Whether they'd been stolen before all that crap got put in there, or if they'd been floating at the bottom of that sea of filth, I didn't know, but I wasn't about to go looking for them.
My luck held out, or at least partially. The librarian wouldn't or couldn't loan me most of the texts I needed, but when I mentioned what had happened to my own copies, she 'found' a spare math text, so at least I'd be able to find the right problems for any assignments I had in that folder. I could probably find anything else I really needed to know at the public library, so I thanked her and left.
As soon as I got out of the librarian's realm, however, the natural order of the world reasserted itself as I came face-to-pecs with a student in a gray t-shirt, his expansive chest emblazoned with an eagle decal. Just visible on one sleeve that was gamely trying to contain the student's biceps were two block-letter 8's. Great.
"Hi," the pecs said, "You're Taylor Hebert, right?"
"Uh…"
"Yeah, I recognize you! You're the chick who punted that Hess bitch into the wall!"
"Ah…"
"Hey, good going! She's got all that and more comin' to her, y'know? Real piece of work, that one."
I looked up (oh right, face). Bleached-blonde hair and a winning smile looked down at me. Man, he was tall. I took a step back, both to break the hypnotic effects of his chest and to better try and recognize him. I didn't; not surprising, nobody talked to me.
"Where'd you learn such sweet moves?"
"I…" Oh shit. Empire guy, talking to me. Might have defied gravity while fighting Sophia. Might be suspicious. Think of an excuse, Taylor.
"I watch a lot of pro wrestling." Think of a better excuse, Taylor!
"That right? Man, that's so cool. Hey, you wanna come to a party next week? It's not, like, a house party or anything. S'like a block party. Neighbors have a potluck and everything, it's pretty cool. Very casual."
"Uh… maybe? I don't—"
"Hey, it's cool! Just think about it. Everybody heard what you did to that bitch, and my friends think you're a pretty cool chick. I think you'd have fun. Plus, one of my neighbors always brings these Oreo fudge brownie things, they're sweet." He pulled a folded slip of paper and tucked it into my borrowed math text. "I'm Josh, by the way. Hope I'll see you there!"
I'd better get home before I attract any more trouble.
You received Key Item: [Suspicious Invitation]!
* * *
The last surprise of the evening came late, after dinner. I was trying to ignore the piece of paper Josh had given me, and instead get started on my pile of homework when I heard Dad call to me, and I went downstairs to find him lugging a heavy cardboard box up from the basement.
"Here, Taylor." He set the box down with a huff, then used his keys to cut the long-since-brittle tape keeping it shut. "These were your mother's."
I settled down next to Dad and peered into the box. It was full of odds and ends: gloves, a pair of boots, a jacket… it wasn't until I found the brightly-colored motorcycle helmet that I finally realized what my Dad was showing me.
"This is… it's a costume, isn't it?" He nodded. "Was Mom… like me?"
"She was a lot like you, Taylor. But if you mean was she a cape?" He gave a gentle shrug. "I don't rightly know. I told you she was involved with Lustrum's movement, but she didn't tend to bring her work home while we were dating. She was a remarkable woman, in a lot of ways, our Anne-Rose. It wouldn't surprise me if she had been a parahuman. It wouldn't surprise me if she wasn't, either. She was always the type to hit above her weight class, so to speak."
We sat there for a bit in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. I touched the costume pieces with an almost reverent hand, and imagined that I could still smell her perfume, locked away in time inside this box. When I wiped at my eyes, Dad pulled me into a one-armed hug.
"I'm going to go get dinner started, okay? We'll have that talk after." I nodded, and he left to the kitchen. I didn't want to leave the box of Mom's things so quickly, and I tried to sort and touch each piece of her old costume, as if to affirm it was real.
You received Key Item: [Heirloom Costume]
Knowledge was power. It was something that Mom had sworn by, even if maybe not in those exact words, and if I was going to be a hero, I would need as much power as I could get. I decided I'd better lay some foundations into acquiring that power by following Mom's adage and do some research into local parahumans. I didn't want to be caught not knowing if I should greet or run away from any cape I met on the street. I was sure that with some research on the PHO wiki, I'd have a better understanding of local capes by the end of the week.
On top of that, it occurred to me that this was a good time to give Winslow the finger. If I could raise my grades outside of school and during my upcoming detentions, away from the influence and sabotage of the Trio, it'd paint a pretty damning picture... one to go along with all the other damning pictures. Winslow had a whole damn mural of my complaints against the Trio, by now. There was no reason to think that this time would be any different. I was sliding back into that pall of gloomy thoughts I'd lived in for the past year, but for once the thought of Winslow's passivity didn't weigh on me. Nothing had changed-- except me. Now, there was that warmth in my chest, suffusing my limbs and buoying me up. It was hard to feel hopeless with that connection I now felt.
Sure, maybe the school wouldn't do anything about the Trio. And sure, maybe I could just let them destroy my grades, keep me from entering a university in a few years. I could just float along and join the Protectorate when I graduated, and let that be my only job. But Mom wouldn't have wanted that, and neither did I. Nothing would change if I accepted that defeat, so I had to keep trying.
You chose a path of wisdom.
Devotion has increased!
Hope has increased!
The next day, I looked up Winslow's main office number in the phone book first thing in the morning, and gave them a call. A tired (already? at 7:00?) voice picked up on the fourth ring.
"Winslow Administrative Office, how can I help you?"
"Good morning! My name is Taylor Hebert. I'm currently on suspension, so I was wanting to swing by today and pick up my assignments for the week from all my teachers? Oh, and I was hoping to re-do some that got, uh... ruined."
"Please e-mail your teachers for that---"
"I don't have a computer printer at home. And Art class was starting sculpture, which I'm pretty sure can't be photocopied."
The woman on the line huffed. How dare I ask her to do work.
"Very well, Miss Hebert, I'll send a note to all your teachers. Come by before the end of class and I'll have a packet for you at the office, if your teachers decide to send any work home with you."
"Great, I'll be there around two this afternoon. Bye." Yeah, if they want to send work home. I made a mental note to ask for a hall pass and supervisory security guard, to talk to my teachers directly if need be. I hung up the phone and quickly sat down for breakfast before my eggs cooled. I was buttering some toast when I noticed Dad looking at me funny.
"Uh... what?"
"You're going to school?"
I nodded. "I want to pick up my homework and such, maybe get some extra credit and re-dos on some older work. I've got a chance to work without the Trio butting in, so it's a good opportunity to get my grades up, y'know?" At that, Dad's shoulders visibly relaxed, and I saw him smile for the first time in days.
"That's... good to hear, Taylor. Great, even. I was worried-- I thought you'd immediately start sneaking out to go look for trouble with the gangs..."
I swallowed my mouthful of toast. Oh. I hadn't realized. Dad must have been freaking out, since he found out I had powers. Parahumans tended to get snapped up by gangs, or snapped in half by gangs, and fairly quickly in Brockton Bay. After Mom had gotten taken from us so suddenly, he must have been wracked with thoughts of his daughter going out and, I dunno, running into Lung on her first night out or something equally horrible. I quickly shook my head.
"Oh, Dad, no. I want to go out--I really do--but that doesn't mean I can just abandon my normal life." It doesn't mean I will just abandon you.
"I..." He stopped, then took a drink of juice before continuing. His voice sounded a bit thick. "I know I can't-- you're so much like your mother. Once you get a goal in mind nothing can turn you from it... okay. Why don't we maybe hash out some... I guess ground rules, for going out, or-- no, that sounds bad. Taylor, why don't we talk more about what you want to do when I get home?" He smiled, hope clear on his face. How long had it been since he'd wanted to be involved with my life?
"Sure, dad. That sounds great."
"Okay." He cleared away his plate, picked up his coat and battered briefcase, then paused, turning back before he opened the door. "And, Taylor... now that I think of it, there's some old things of your mother's that... well, maybe you'd like to use them now."
He left before I could ask what that meant. Well, I guess I'd just have to find out later. Several new 'windows' of text popped up in my sight, demanding my attention.
You soothed your father's heartache.
Hope has increased.
Devotion has greatly increased.
The Crystal of Water has been acquired.
You may choose to unlock one (1) new Job.
I'd been right! I had no idea yet what the other stuff meant, but this was huge. I felt giddy from my scalp to my toes. I couldn't even focus on the wider implications right now. I took a good look at my options.
Time Mage
A mystic of a different color, the Time Mage manipulates magic to endow allies with enhancements and foes with weakening effects with Time Magic.
Pros: Arguably the best Supporting class, and the only means to access spells such as Haste and Comet
Cons: Very little in the way of offensive options, both magical and physical. Silly hats.
Samurai
Solemn masters of the way of Bushido, these warriors are fearsome opponents in battle. Samurai use powerful sword strikes and secret arts to debilitate foes and remove enemy advantages.
Pros: Good offense and selection of debuffs.
Cons: Speed is tied heavily to equipment. No magical attacks.
Bard
Creative and peaceful musicians, Bards can use Sing to empower allies with a variety of powerful beneficial effects.
Pros: Very powerful Buffs for allies, with a wide range of effect.
Cons: Little to no offensive or defensive options.
Thief
Sly and quick, the Thief can use Sleight of Hand to steal items, trick enemies, and escape from nearly any situation.
Pros: Very agile and evasive, can use Steal.
Cons: Limited equipment options and middling physical attack.
Special: Lucky
Samurai sounded useful, but I didn't have a sword and it was maybe not the best idea to take on an Eastern theme in Brockton Bay. And on second thought, I already had a fighty power with Monk, so support would be great. I selected Time Mage, and felt a light in my soul bloom.
* * *
I got to Winslow just after 2pm, like I'd said, and managed to get to the main office without spotting Emma or her cronies. To my surprise, the receptionist (who was every bit as worn and vaguely sour-faced as I'd imagined) handed me a thick folder full of assignments from my classes. That was considerably more homework than I'd thought I'd get, so maybe I was lucky for once and managed to get some extra credit assignments. It would probably take me the rest of the week to do, with little time for much else, but at the end my grades would be considerably more stable, and that was sure to pay dividends. I decided to make a quick stop at the school's library to see if I could snag a few extra textbooks, since mine had been in my locker. Whether they'd been stolen before all that crap got put in there, or if they'd been floating at the bottom of that sea of filth, I didn't know, but I wasn't about to go looking for them.
My luck held out, or at least partially. The librarian wouldn't or couldn't loan me most of the texts I needed, but when I mentioned what had happened to my own copies, she 'found' a spare math text, so at least I'd be able to find the right problems for any assignments I had in that folder. I could probably find anything else I really needed to know at the public library, so I thanked her and left.
As soon as I got out of the librarian's realm, however, the natural order of the world reasserted itself as I came face-to-pecs with a student in a gray t-shirt, his expansive chest emblazoned with an eagle decal. Just visible on one sleeve that was gamely trying to contain the student's biceps were two block-letter 8's. Great.
"Hi," the pecs said, "You're Taylor Hebert, right?"
"Uh…"
"Yeah, I recognize you! You're the chick who punted that Hess bitch into the wall!"
"Ah…"
"Hey, good going! She's got all that and more comin' to her, y'know? Real piece of work, that one."
I looked up (oh right, face). Bleached-blonde hair and a winning smile looked down at me. Man, he was tall. I took a step back, both to break the hypnotic effects of his chest and to better try and recognize him. I didn't; not surprising, nobody talked to me.
"Where'd you learn such sweet moves?"
"I…" Oh shit. Empire guy, talking to me. Might have defied gravity while fighting Sophia. Might be suspicious. Think of an excuse, Taylor.
"I watch a lot of pro wrestling." Think of a better excuse, Taylor!
"That right? Man, that's so cool. Hey, you wanna come to a party next week? It's not, like, a house party or anything. S'like a block party. Neighbors have a potluck and everything, it's pretty cool. Very casual."
"Uh… maybe? I don't—"
"Hey, it's cool! Just think about it. Everybody heard what you did to that bitch, and my friends think you're a pretty cool chick. I think you'd have fun. Plus, one of my neighbors always brings these Oreo fudge brownie things, they're sweet." He pulled a folded slip of paper and tucked it into my borrowed math text. "I'm Josh, by the way. Hope I'll see you there!"
I'd better get home before I attract any more trouble.
You received Key Item: [Suspicious Invitation]!
* * *
The last surprise of the evening came late, after dinner. I was trying to ignore the piece of paper Josh had given me, and instead get started on my pile of homework when I heard Dad call to me, and I went downstairs to find him lugging a heavy cardboard box up from the basement.
"Here, Taylor." He set the box down with a huff, then used his keys to cut the long-since-brittle tape keeping it shut. "These were your mother's."
I settled down next to Dad and peered into the box. It was full of odds and ends: gloves, a pair of boots, a jacket… it wasn't until I found the brightly-colored motorcycle helmet that I finally realized what my Dad was showing me.
"This is… it's a costume, isn't it?" He nodded. "Was Mom… like me?"
"She was a lot like you, Taylor. But if you mean was she a cape?" He gave a gentle shrug. "I don't rightly know. I told you she was involved with Lustrum's movement, but she didn't tend to bring her work home while we were dating. She was a remarkable woman, in a lot of ways, our Anne-Rose. It wouldn't surprise me if she had been a parahuman. It wouldn't surprise me if she wasn't, either. She was always the type to hit above her weight class, so to speak."
We sat there for a bit in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. I touched the costume pieces with an almost reverent hand, and imagined that I could still smell her perfume, locked away in time inside this box. When I wiped at my eyes, Dad pulled me into a one-armed hug.
"I'm going to go get dinner started, okay? We'll have that talk after." I nodded, and he left to the kitchen. I didn't want to leave the box of Mom's things so quickly, and I tried to sort and touch each piece of her old costume, as if to affirm it was real.
You received Key Item: [Heirloom Costume]
Prologue 3
UnwelcomeStorm
BARK! BARK! BARK!
- Location
- United States
January 16-22, 2011
There was something else in the box, sifted down into the corners, and I pulled out Mom's old costume (mine now, I swore it) to get a better look. There were... hm.
I couldn't help but goggle at them; what were they doing there? How were they there? How did I even know what an imaginary metaphysical item conjured by my powers even looked like? Whatever the explanation, when I brushed my fingers across the cache, the Essences vanished, depositing themselves into my inventory. Maybe… maybe I'd consider it a gift from Mom. I wiped at my eyes again, but this time I was smiling.
I'll make you proud, Mom. I promise.
You inherited your mother's spirit.
Passion has greatly increased.
Courage has increased.
Devotion has increased.
Hope has increased.
Gained 25x Essence of Passion
Gained 15x Essence of Courage
The rest of the week passed by in a haze of school assignments and talks with a pleasantly animated Dad. His work was still tough on him, the state of the Bay not lending much promise for the struggling Dockworker's Union, but at home he seemed more… there, now. Like he'd shaken off some of the silencing pall that had settled on the house since Mom's death. True to his word, we'd had a long talk or three about my wanting to be a cape. As long as I told him before I left, obeyed a midnight curfew, and didn't let my schoolwork slip, I could go out on patrol by myself. He'd even pledged to give me rides to and from my routes.
Of course, talking about capes inevitably led to the elephant in the room: the PRT. Dad wanted me to join up with the Wards, of course, since it would mean more protection, but I wasn't sold on the idea. Still, he seemed pleased when I asked to go to the PRT to talk about my options, and register as a hero, independent or otherwise. I'd found during my research that, while independent work was considerably more dangerous, if I was registered as a hero I'd get some PRT support. It wasn't well advertised, since I suspected that the PRT would much rather new capes simply join them, but a registered independent could schedule time with the PRT to use their training and testing facilities. It was something I'd definitely keep in mind.
Dad made a few phonecalls, and when Sunday morning rolled around, we headed to the PRT's headquarters after breakfast.
We were eventually ushered into a meeting room and asked to wait for a PRT representative, who'd be in to speak with us shortly. Butterflies were rioting in my stomach, and I clutched the photocopied folder of Trio Hatescapade Records a bit tighter. I hadn't wanted to bring it, but unfortunately Dad hadn't forgotten my offhand mention of it a few days back and he'd insisted that we at least see what the PRT would be willing to do for a new hero in regards to civilian troubles. At least the waiting room was nice; I'd half-expected something like an interrogation room, with hard chairs and a cold table, and a no-nonsense PRT suit saying join us or else. Instead, it was a small but comfortable sitting room, with a coffee table and matching chairs and loveseat. I approved. Better yet, we weren't kept waiting; it was only a few minutes before a courtesy knock sounded at the door, which opened to reveal a handsome woman with dark hair and olive-toned skin. She shook both our hands and sat down opposite us.
"Good morning, Mr. Hebert, Miss Hebert. I'm Hannah Washington, I'll be handling your inquiries today."
She laid out a number of papers on the desk. At a glance, they looked like… well, forms to fill out.
"I'm to understand that you've recently Triggered as a parahuman, Miss Hebert. Your father said you wanted to register as an Independent Hero?"
"That's right… I, um, know that the PRT likes to enroll kids into the Wards, but I wanted some time to think about it."
"That's fair. I'll give you some literature on the benefits of full membership with the PRT, but… I would advise you consider joining, Miss Hebert. It's very dangerous for Independent capes, especially new ones. Especially here." Her voice was grave. "On average, a newly-Triggered parahuman lasts less than six months before being pressed into service of a gang, or worse."
Gulp.
"I know, I just…" I sighed, and set down the Hatescapade folder. Ms. Washington raised a brow.
"I'm... I'm being hurt, at school. For a long time now. And I'm scared that joining another group of teenagers won't be any different." Dad tensed, sitting next to me, but Ms. Washington's expression took on equal measures of understanding and concern. She took the folder and opened it, peering at the contents within.
"I read about Trigger events. This is—these girls caused mine. They've been after me for over a year, tripping or hitting me in the halls, stealing or ruining classwork and supplies, spreading rumors and insulting me to my face… " I stopped, my voice thick and my throat refusing to continue. Dad gave me a hug, but Ms. Washington looked…
"Taylor… these girls—Emma Barnes, Madison Clements, Sophia Hess—have you reported them to your teachers?"
"Yes. Yes, but they don't care. They don't do anything. The principal just always says 'but there's no proof,' so it's my word against theirs. And it's always their word that gets believed."
…yeah, that was definitely an angry face she was making.
"These are copies. Do you mind if I take them? Good. I've got some colleagues that will want to see them. The PRT doesn't like to intervene in civilian matters, but at the very least I can bypass your school's stonewalling and get this looked into."
I nodded. Then hesitated.
"There's kinda… maybe a problem."
"Oh?"
"See, I… got into a fight with Sophia. She and the others had filled my locker with a disgusting, bloody mess, used tampons and garbage and stuff, and tried to push me into it last week. And later on, I got approached by I'm pretty sure an E88 recruiter." I passed her the [Suspicious Invitation]. She glanced at it, nodded, and stuck it into the Hatescapade Folder.
"You think you've been outed, as a parahuman?"
I bit my lip. "Maybe."
"Well, we'll… deal with that. Before we go any further, maybe we should start filling out these forms. Could you give me a description of your power, Taylor?"
I'll admit, I hesitated. It was almost reflex to start talking about how I'd kicked Sophia halfway down a hallway, or flipped her upside-down in midair, and to keep quiet about the other lights in my soul. The one that had kindled recently, and the discreet tests I'd conducted in the basement had been enlightening. Temporal control—Time Magic, my power's interface seemed to insist—though using it had drained me in a way that simple punches didn't. Alexandria packages were a dime a dozen. My power was something else.
Powers.
And there were more of them, I could feel it. The lights were dim for now, but they wouldn't be for long. It was a risk, but keeping this from the PRT seemed like a bigger risk. Especially given that I was asking them to do something about the Trio; getting caught lying to them wouldn't help my case with that. And I didn't want to get automatically arrested some day if I started throwing fireballs or something equally ridiculous and they thought I was a new villain. And—
Hannah Washington
<PRT Employee>
Level 43
An office worker was a higher level than me. I needed the PRT to help me get my level grind on. With that in mind, I decided to go against my instincts, and tell the truth.
You weighed the risks, and chose to trust.
Courage has increased.
Hope has increased.
"Well… my first power is hitting stuff. Kinda. I mean, when I got into that fight, I could move and act like—like I know I couldn't have a few minutes before. I don't really feel much stronger, exactly, but I knew how to fight." Ms. Washington nodded, making a few notes on a piece of paper.
"And then all the bruises and pains from the fight just vanished the next day."
"Fast healing…" She scribbled another note.
"And then yesterday I made a ball fall at about three meters per second."
There was a pause.
"Excuse me?"
"A ball. I made it fall slowly." More silence. I fidgeted a bit in my seat. "…in time. I slowed down its time." Ms. Washington put down her pen.
"…I can also make things speed up. And people."
"Ms. Hebert, how did you—"
"I switch. It's like I feel these lights, and the lights are powers, and if I concentrate I can switch between them." I rushed, feeling a spike of fear that she wouldn't believe me. "And there's more of them but they haven't lit up yet, but I think they will, and I can prove it I swear."
"Easy, Ms. Hebert. We have a testing facility here, I think perhaps we should take a break and go tour it."
"But what about all this?" Dad gestured at the number of forms and papers on the coffee table.
"There's nothing binding yet, Mr. Hebert. But if what your daughter is claiming can be proven, then this matter just exceeded my pay grade."
* * *
From there, things got substantially more busy. Busier than one day could actually contain; the PRT ended up calling Winslow and reporting me as sick for Monday and Tuesday, and as insistent as they were, Dad and I went home each night rather than stay in one of the guest rooms. I still asked for until the end of the week to decide on membership, and my request was reluctantly granted.
The Wards were being pushed pretty hard, though. I got to tour their Commons area, and though I didn't meet all of them, I got to experiment with my powers against Aegis, Clockblocker, and Vista. The best part?
My power counted it as fight encounters.
You have reached level 5!
MONK job level increased.
Received Essence of Wind x1
Received Essence of Fire x6
Received Essence of Water x6
Received Essence of Earth x6
* * *
To: Chief Director Costa-Brown
From: ENE Director Emily Piggot
Date: January 19, 2011
Subject: New Trump
As you've requested, I am writing to inform you of a newly-Triggered parahuman of interest. Taylor Hebert, no current alias, age 15, female. Came in to register as an Independent Hero, but we're pushing recruitment into the Wards.
She describes her power as different power 'sets' that she is able to switch between. Currently she possesses a minor Alexandria Package (Brute 2, Thinker 1 (Combat), Blaster 1, and either a Striker or Breaker rating, undetermined) and a power based on temporal manipulation (Shaker 4). Both powers contain a Trump rating of their own (3 for the brute, 4 for the shaker), and for her entirely we're marking a tentative Trump 6. The reason for this is that she claims to feel other power sets as ones that she will eventually access, but cannot at this time.
This claim holds merit. During power testing, she was observed to suddenly develop new abilities in her brute set, including a minor blaster attack and a self-restricted healing ability.
Of particular note is that after sparring, resident Ward Aegis reported that when she grappled him during combat, his flight power ceased to function until she let go. Physical contact outside of sparring did not produce a nullification effect.
She does not appear to be Manton Limited, in that her powers affect living and non-living targets equally.
* * *
To: ENE Director Emily Piggot
From: Chief Director Costa-Brown
Date: January 19, 2011
Subject: RE: New Trump
Get her on board, however you have to.
There was something else in the box, sifted down into the corners, and I pulled out Mom's old costume (mine now, I swore it) to get a better look. There were... hm.
I couldn't help but goggle at them; what were they doing there? How were they there? How did I even know what an imaginary metaphysical item conjured by my powers even looked like? Whatever the explanation, when I brushed my fingers across the cache, the Essences vanished, depositing themselves into my inventory. Maybe… maybe I'd consider it a gift from Mom. I wiped at my eyes again, but this time I was smiling.
I'll make you proud, Mom. I promise.
You inherited your mother's spirit.
Passion has greatly increased.
Courage has increased.
Devotion has increased.
Hope has increased.
Gained 25x Essence of Passion
Gained 15x Essence of Courage
The rest of the week passed by in a haze of school assignments and talks with a pleasantly animated Dad. His work was still tough on him, the state of the Bay not lending much promise for the struggling Dockworker's Union, but at home he seemed more… there, now. Like he'd shaken off some of the silencing pall that had settled on the house since Mom's death. True to his word, we'd had a long talk or three about my wanting to be a cape. As long as I told him before I left, obeyed a midnight curfew, and didn't let my schoolwork slip, I could go out on patrol by myself. He'd even pledged to give me rides to and from my routes.
Of course, talking about capes inevitably led to the elephant in the room: the PRT. Dad wanted me to join up with the Wards, of course, since it would mean more protection, but I wasn't sold on the idea. Still, he seemed pleased when I asked to go to the PRT to talk about my options, and register as a hero, independent or otherwise. I'd found during my research that, while independent work was considerably more dangerous, if I was registered as a hero I'd get some PRT support. It wasn't well advertised, since I suspected that the PRT would much rather new capes simply join them, but a registered independent could schedule time with the PRT to use their training and testing facilities. It was something I'd definitely keep in mind.
Dad made a few phonecalls, and when Sunday morning rolled around, we headed to the PRT's headquarters after breakfast.
We were eventually ushered into a meeting room and asked to wait for a PRT representative, who'd be in to speak with us shortly. Butterflies were rioting in my stomach, and I clutched the photocopied folder of Trio Hatescapade Records a bit tighter. I hadn't wanted to bring it, but unfortunately Dad hadn't forgotten my offhand mention of it a few days back and he'd insisted that we at least see what the PRT would be willing to do for a new hero in regards to civilian troubles. At least the waiting room was nice; I'd half-expected something like an interrogation room, with hard chairs and a cold table, and a no-nonsense PRT suit saying join us or else. Instead, it was a small but comfortable sitting room, with a coffee table and matching chairs and loveseat. I approved. Better yet, we weren't kept waiting; it was only a few minutes before a courtesy knock sounded at the door, which opened to reveal a handsome woman with dark hair and olive-toned skin. She shook both our hands and sat down opposite us.
"Good morning, Mr. Hebert, Miss Hebert. I'm Hannah Washington, I'll be handling your inquiries today."
She laid out a number of papers on the desk. At a glance, they looked like… well, forms to fill out.
"I'm to understand that you've recently Triggered as a parahuman, Miss Hebert. Your father said you wanted to register as an Independent Hero?"
"That's right… I, um, know that the PRT likes to enroll kids into the Wards, but I wanted some time to think about it."
"That's fair. I'll give you some literature on the benefits of full membership with the PRT, but… I would advise you consider joining, Miss Hebert. It's very dangerous for Independent capes, especially new ones. Especially here." Her voice was grave. "On average, a newly-Triggered parahuman lasts less than six months before being pressed into service of a gang, or worse."
Gulp.
"I know, I just…" I sighed, and set down the Hatescapade folder. Ms. Washington raised a brow.
"I'm... I'm being hurt, at school. For a long time now. And I'm scared that joining another group of teenagers won't be any different." Dad tensed, sitting next to me, but Ms. Washington's expression took on equal measures of understanding and concern. She took the folder and opened it, peering at the contents within.
"I read about Trigger events. This is—these girls caused mine. They've been after me for over a year, tripping or hitting me in the halls, stealing or ruining classwork and supplies, spreading rumors and insulting me to my face… " I stopped, my voice thick and my throat refusing to continue. Dad gave me a hug, but Ms. Washington looked…
"Taylor… these girls—Emma Barnes, Madison Clements, Sophia Hess—have you reported them to your teachers?"
"Yes. Yes, but they don't care. They don't do anything. The principal just always says 'but there's no proof,' so it's my word against theirs. And it's always their word that gets believed."
…yeah, that was definitely an angry face she was making.
"These are copies. Do you mind if I take them? Good. I've got some colleagues that will want to see them. The PRT doesn't like to intervene in civilian matters, but at the very least I can bypass your school's stonewalling and get this looked into."
I nodded. Then hesitated.
"There's kinda… maybe a problem."
"Oh?"
"See, I… got into a fight with Sophia. She and the others had filled my locker with a disgusting, bloody mess, used tampons and garbage and stuff, and tried to push me into it last week. And later on, I got approached by I'm pretty sure an E88 recruiter." I passed her the [Suspicious Invitation]. She glanced at it, nodded, and stuck it into the Hatescapade Folder.
"You think you've been outed, as a parahuman?"
I bit my lip. "Maybe."
"Well, we'll… deal with that. Before we go any further, maybe we should start filling out these forms. Could you give me a description of your power, Taylor?"
I'll admit, I hesitated. It was almost reflex to start talking about how I'd kicked Sophia halfway down a hallway, or flipped her upside-down in midair, and to keep quiet about the other lights in my soul. The one that had kindled recently, and the discreet tests I'd conducted in the basement had been enlightening. Temporal control—Time Magic, my power's interface seemed to insist—though using it had drained me in a way that simple punches didn't. Alexandria packages were a dime a dozen. My power was something else.
Powers.
And there were more of them, I could feel it. The lights were dim for now, but they wouldn't be for long. It was a risk, but keeping this from the PRT seemed like a bigger risk. Especially given that I was asking them to do something about the Trio; getting caught lying to them wouldn't help my case with that. And I didn't want to get automatically arrested some day if I started throwing fireballs or something equally ridiculous and they thought I was a new villain. And—
Hannah Washington
<PRT Employee>
Level 43
An office worker was a higher level than me. I needed the PRT to help me get my level grind on. With that in mind, I decided to go against my instincts, and tell the truth.
You weighed the risks, and chose to trust.
Courage has increased.
Hope has increased.
"Well… my first power is hitting stuff. Kinda. I mean, when I got into that fight, I could move and act like—like I know I couldn't have a few minutes before. I don't really feel much stronger, exactly, but I knew how to fight." Ms. Washington nodded, making a few notes on a piece of paper.
"And then all the bruises and pains from the fight just vanished the next day."
"Fast healing…" She scribbled another note.
"And then yesterday I made a ball fall at about three meters per second."
There was a pause.
"Excuse me?"
"A ball. I made it fall slowly." More silence. I fidgeted a bit in my seat. "…in time. I slowed down its time." Ms. Washington put down her pen.
"…I can also make things speed up. And people."
"Ms. Hebert, how did you—"
"I switch. It's like I feel these lights, and the lights are powers, and if I concentrate I can switch between them." I rushed, feeling a spike of fear that she wouldn't believe me. "And there's more of them but they haven't lit up yet, but I think they will, and I can prove it I swear."
"Easy, Ms. Hebert. We have a testing facility here, I think perhaps we should take a break and go tour it."
"But what about all this?" Dad gestured at the number of forms and papers on the coffee table.
"There's nothing binding yet, Mr. Hebert. But if what your daughter is claiming can be proven, then this matter just exceeded my pay grade."
* * *
From there, things got substantially more busy. Busier than one day could actually contain; the PRT ended up calling Winslow and reporting me as sick for Monday and Tuesday, and as insistent as they were, Dad and I went home each night rather than stay in one of the guest rooms. I still asked for until the end of the week to decide on membership, and my request was reluctantly granted.
The Wards were being pushed pretty hard, though. I got to tour their Commons area, and though I didn't meet all of them, I got to experiment with my powers against Aegis, Clockblocker, and Vista. The best part?
My power counted it as fight encounters.
You have reached level 5!
MONK job level increased.
Received Essence of Wind x1
Received Essence of Fire x6
Received Essence of Water x6
Received Essence of Earth x6
* * *
To: Chief Director Costa-Brown
From: ENE Director Emily Piggot
Date: January 19, 2011
Subject: New Trump
As you've requested, I am writing to inform you of a newly-Triggered parahuman of interest. Taylor Hebert, no current alias, age 15, female. Came in to register as an Independent Hero, but we're pushing recruitment into the Wards.
She describes her power as different power 'sets' that she is able to switch between. Currently she possesses a minor Alexandria Package (Brute 2, Thinker 1 (Combat), Blaster 1, and either a Striker or Breaker rating, undetermined) and a power based on temporal manipulation (Shaker 4). Both powers contain a Trump rating of their own (3 for the brute, 4 for the shaker), and for her entirely we're marking a tentative Trump 6. The reason for this is that she claims to feel other power sets as ones that she will eventually access, but cannot at this time.
This claim holds merit. During power testing, she was observed to suddenly develop new abilities in her brute set, including a minor blaster attack and a self-restricted healing ability.
Of particular note is that after sparring, resident Ward Aegis reported that when she grappled him during combat, his flight power ceased to function until she let go. Physical contact outside of sparring did not produce a nullification effect.
She does not appear to be Manton Limited, in that her powers affect living and non-living targets equally.
* * *
To: ENE Director Emily Piggot
From: Chief Director Costa-Brown
Date: January 19, 2011
Subject: RE: New Trump
Get her on board, however you have to.
Tisaku
Head Chief Thinkomancer
the power
-why? She's on suspension.-
- Location
- Blood Gulch
I loved this quest and I'm even happier to see it back as a story, which I prefer personally. Looking forward to future chapters!
The suspension was just for a week. By the time they went to the PRT, the week has passed, and Taylor is supposed to be going back to school.
The suspension was just for a week. By the time they went to the PRT, the week has passed, and Taylor is supposed to be going back to school.
Wasn't it two weeks since she didn't have anything to suspend her from?
A week's suspension followed by a week of detentions.
- Location
- Wisconsin
I always looked forward to the previous version of this, always made my day when it updated. Definitely off to a good start again.
Jim Starluck
CO, ICS Vanguard
- Location
- Cincinnati, OH
"Sophiaaaaa! You got some 'splainin to do!"
Hugs wanted
(Lurker of threads) (wannabe writer)
Prepare for either shadow stalker drama or light fucking up
- Pronouns
- She/Her
And the Job System is a go!
Will there be any of the more exotic jobs, like Blue Mage and Beastmaster? Maybe some taken from FFXI or FFXIV?
Will there be any of the more exotic jobs, like Blue Mage and Beastmaster? Maybe some taken from FFXI or FFXIV?
- Location
- Washington, USA
So, as someone who hasn't played any Final Fantasy games, but has plenty of games heavily inspired by them, what's the difference between Blue Mage and Time Mage? I've heard of a guy saying Blue Mage was the one who fucked with time when giving a point blank description of the class.
Traditionally Blue Mage means learns techniques from monsters, which can certainly include time manipulation, but isn't the focus.
Time Mage does Time Magic. And maybe Meteor.
- Location
- Washington, USA
Oh. That make sense.
Now I'm wondering what game he was talking about for Blue Mage, because if Blue Mage is traditionally the monster copy class, then it certainly wasn't Final Fantasy and my memory is faulty.
Questions for another day.
This was always one of my favorite things UnwelcomeStorm ever did, and there is some serious competition in that regard. Might just go re-read the original again.
- Location
- Christchurch, New Zealand
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I was reading through the FF X-2 jobs to see what sounded the most awesome, and if Psychic isn't the most OP bullshit I don't know what is.
- Passive absorb/heal from: fire (Lung), lightning (Behemoth), water (Leviathan) and gravity (Simurgh).
- Nullifies physical and magical damage with a single spell
- "Nothing personal, kid." (Seriously, the desciption of Teleport is Instantly move behind enemy.)
- AoE Confusion and Silence spell (does silence work on capes? Because if so, super high Trump/Master rating)
- Self buff of accuracy, evasion and haste. Again, single spell.
Gear
Set Moon to Ramming Speed!
Hope you like that quarantine containment zone/juvie/Alaskan Artic Station Sophia
Checkpoint Retrospective: Prologue
UnwelcomeStorm
BARK! BARK! BARK!
- Location
- United States
Checkpoint Retrospective: Prologue
Retrospectives, in the original work, were a means of checking up on the branching paths of storyline that the quest followed, or did not follow. As the major rewrites won't start until Arc 3, this is as good a chance as any to look back at What Might Have Been as well as refresh how decisions went. It's also a good time to post an actual Character Sheet, which will be included below.
At the tutorial, we selected Monk as our first job.
Three times in a row, we chose to be considerate of and truthful to Danny, and as a result, we got the rare reward of the Heirloom Costume and a big bag of Essences.
Our first forays as a parahuman were very conservative. We chose to pursue knowledge in safety.
And when the opportunity presented itself, we decided to make nice with the PRT.
Taylor Hebert
Level 5
Current Equipment:
None
Spirit:
Spirit indicates the strength of Taylor's soul, and her connection to each Crystal.
Passion 2
Courage 3
Devotion 5
Hope 4
Current Jobs:
Water Crystal
Pillar of Devotion
TIME MAGE
Earth Crystal
Pillar of Hope
MONK
Achievements
Prologue
You are filled with the strength of ancient heroes. Crystal of Earth unlocked!
You confessed a difficult truth. Told Dad about the bullies and your powers.
The Path of Wisdom (1). You've rededicated yourself to improving your mundane life.
You soothed your father's heartache. Danny is much more willing to work with you, rather than following his own good intentions.
You are filled with the strength of ancient heroes. Crystal of Water unlocked!
You inherited your mother's spirit. And her costume.
You weighed the risks, and chose to trust. You told the PRT the truth of your powers.
Retrospectives, in the original work, were a means of checking up on the branching paths of storyline that the quest followed, or did not follow. As the major rewrites won't start until Arc 3, this is as good a chance as any to look back at What Might Have Been as well as refresh how decisions went. It's also a good time to post an actual Character Sheet, which will be included below.
At the tutorial, we selected Monk as our first job.
- Both Time Mage and Black Mage would have immediately outed us.
- Berserker would have landed us immediately into Probationary Ward status for the beating Sophia would have received. I'm sure she and Taylor would have gotten along just fine, right?
Three times in a row, we chose to be considerate of and truthful to Danny, and as a result, we got the rare reward of the Heirloom Costume and a big bag of Essences.
- We could have covered up the fight and suspension, and retained the status quo.
- If we had told Danny about our powers, but chosen to start hitting the streets OR meet with Uber and Leet, he would have called the PRT for help.
- The reward chest of Annette's Things could also have contained pre-enchanted equipment, or an item to unlock or alter a Job class.
Our first forays as a parahuman were very conservative. We chose to pursue knowledge in safety.
- We did not continue the Uber and Leet storyline, which would have allowed us to join as a villain, or to gain U&L as friends and rivals. We would have gotten a significant training bonus from them, as well as many future reward opportunities.
- We did not start the Empire storyline. We could have joined for protection, or had the bright idea to be a double agent.
- Because we stayed off the streets, we did not get ambushed by Shadow Stalker.
And when the opportunity presented itself, we decided to make nice with the PRT.
- We told Miss Militia (shh!) about the Trio...
- ...and because we demonstrated both of our powers, the PRT is bringing the hammer down on them.
- Because we told the full truth, Taylor will be transferred out of Winslow as soon as possible, meaning we have locked ourselves out of further interactions with Emma.
- Including retrieving mom's flute.
Taylor Hebert
Level 5
Current Equipment:
None
Spirit:
Spirit indicates the strength of Taylor's soul, and her connection to each Crystal.
Passion 2
Courage 3
Devotion 5
Hope 4
Current Jobs:
Water Crystal
Pillar of Devotion
TIME MAGE
Earth Crystal
Pillar of Hope
MONK
MONK said:
TIME MAGE said:
Achievements
Prologue
You are filled with the strength of ancient heroes. Crystal of Earth unlocked!
You confessed a difficult truth. Told Dad about the bullies and your powers.
The Path of Wisdom (1). You've rededicated yourself to improving your mundane life.
You soothed your father's heartache. Danny is much more willing to work with you, rather than following his own good intentions.
You are filled with the strength of ancient heroes. Crystal of Water unlocked!
You inherited your mother's spirit. And her costume.
You weighed the risks, and chose to trust. You told the PRT the truth of your powers.