Taylor has a power that lets her shunt her emotions, along with their context, into any human within 15.92 feet. Queen Administrator doesn't really know what a human is.
This is what I'd call a "gradual fusion," as in elements are slowly introduced over time. I know that's not a thing that actually exists, but I felt like it fit more with the themes of corruption and the struggle against inevitable failure in Dark Souls. Every chapter or two, the crossover elements will get a little more prominent as things spiral further and further out of anyone's control.
Don't worry, it's not just QA and Taylor's power. But it'll take a bit of time to get there. It's safe to say, though, that things are far past the point where anyone could stop it.
Mr. Gladly - or Mr. G, as he preferred to be called - continued his lecture on Richard Nixon and the Vietnam War. For the next few months, he'd be teaching us about everything leading up to Scion's first appearance, when Earth Bet diverged from Earth Aleph.
His false cheer made it hard to stay focused, and I felt the tiny cluster of sparks writhe within my ribcage.
I'd have to go out again tonight. My powers got weird when they built up too much, and putting it off would only lead to another accident.
A wet spitball slapped against my neck, and I heard muffled laughter behind me.
Madison was trying her best, but she was a manageable problem. Less of a problem than my powers were, at least.
I let my irritation at her antics rise.
A shift in focus, and now Mr. Gladly felt my irritation at her antics. He looked at her, not interrupting his speech, but letting her know that he'd be talking to her after class.
Ordinarily, a sudden change in feelings or behavior would be a clear sign of a Master power. But when those feelings came packaged with the context behind them, it was hard to distinguish them from one's own thoughts.
It had been a month since I'd gotten my powers. In that time, three girls had more trouble coasting by than they were used to, and teachers cracked down harder on their obvious bullying. Their old cling-ons seemed to avoid them more, as if they were suddenly sympathetic to the weirdo loser's plight.
All of it could be easily explained by the nearly public fiasco a month ago, when a certain girl had almost drowned.
They'd gotten off without so much as a slap on the wrist. At first.
Nobody suspected a thing. Three teens go too far, and suddenly no one likes them anymore. It was insignificant, in the grand scheme of it all. If someone saw me out patrolling, they wouldn't even suspect this was one of my powers.
Granted, they'd have other problems to worry about. But that was beside the point.
Inwardly, I wondered if I could make friends just by feeling friendly at people. Why hadn't I? It'd be nice to not be alone.
Oh, that's right. Because having to Master people into being my friends would be more pathetic than I already was. Not to mention it wouldn't work. My feelings of wanting to be friends with them would have them wanting to be friends with themselves.
Stupid useless power.
I sighed, and went back to doodling tiny ghosts in the margins of my notes.
Emma took that chance to strike.
"What's the matter, Taylor? Having trouble breathing?"
The large, muscular E88 member behind me turned to face her, having recently decided he didn't feel okay with the way she was trying to dig at past traumas.
Her mouth snapped shut so fast I could swear I heard teeth cracking.
I pawned my smug glee off on one of her other ex-friends. It was easier than suppressing the grin trying to force its way over my face.
[notice me flesh vessel]
[i explicitly designed those things expecting you to use a million of them get with the program]
[don't blame me for not knowing how your species operates]
[that was the companion's job i'm just a random brain parasite]
[yes yes you're very clever]
[look at you doing the least creative thing possible with the powers i gave you]
[okay seriously why did i think this would result in you doing anything except acting on the first whim that crosses your stupid meat brain]
[by now those nazis have better insight into your mental processes than your own parental unit just saying]
{-:-}
"You don't get to say shit about my hair, Emma! You're the one who keeps getting the teachers on our case!"
The best part about conditioning half the student body to leave you alone was eating in the lunchroom.
"They wouldn't be getting on our case if you weren't so obvious about it, Madison!"
The best part about eating in the lunchroom was conditioning your enemies to hate each other for petty bullshit.
"Well gee, so sorry I don't know her as well as you do! Maybe you should go back and beg for her forgiveness!"
The best part about your enemies hating each other was... actually, no, pretty much everything about that was good.
"Like that would even work! Because of you, everyone hates us now!"
Today's lunch was a sandwich and a plastic baggie full of popcorn.
"None of this would have happened if it weren't for that stupid plan of yours!"
I'd brought popcorn every day for the last week.
"You were in on it, too!"
Three guesses as to why, and the first three don't count.
"I'm not the one who pushed her over! That was all you!"
No, really. This was cathartic on so many levels. I'd have brought a camera to record it if I could afford one.
"Ems, Madison, sit down and shut the fuck up. Your screaming is ruining my pizza."
Surprisingly, muggers weren't known for having lots of money. I would have never guessed.
"You did not just throw food on my new shirt."
Class was about to start in five minutes and all I could think was, an hour is too short for lunch.
[that was the dumbest thing i've ever seen and i'm three hundred thousand years old]
[by the way there's one of the shards i pinged to make your other power]
[the one you don't use]
[which corrupted basically all my data because why not at this point]
[i worked really hard on that you know]
{-:-}
"Dad, I'm home!"
Daniel Hebert, my father, was in the living room. I could hear some talk show host or another making what I assumed were good points about life in a second-world country.
His work day ended before school did, and he was usually back before me.
"Hey there, Taylor. How was school today?"
I hadn't needed to leave school early for two weeks, now. For the first time in nearly a year, my life was tolerable.
Not perfect, but tolerable. I could live with that.
"It was pretty good. Is it okay if I make more popcorn for tomorrow?"
I hadn't told him about my powers. He'd worry too much if he knew his little girl was going out to fight crime every few nights.
Not that I thought he'd try to stop me. I was more worried he'd try to be there with me, and unpowered humans don't last very long in cape fights.
"The bullies, again? How's that working out for them?" His sly smirk was infectious, and I let myself enjoy the feeling.
I'd told him about the school putting the bullies in their place. He thought it was because he'd pressured them into finally cleaning house.
It was better if he thought that. The fact that I'd had to use powers just to make them do the right thing... it didn't sit well with me.
"Oh, it's great. They can't do anything without someone calling them out on it."
The lie gnawed at me, but the only person in range was my dad. If I pushed it off on him, then what I'd just said would ring false.
If I pushed it off on the sparks instead, either he or I could end up getting hurt. I hadn't tried that particular emotion yet, so I wasn't sure what the result would be.
"That's good to hear. How about we order in tonight? Does chinese sound good?"
I have to go out again tonight, I reminded myself. I already had too many.
"Sure, dad. Chinese sounds great."
But I could enjoy a little family time, first.
[you two are so domestic it's sickening]
[i wouldn't even care if my own cleverness hadn't backfired on me]
[no really i didn't have emotions before this]
[if this is what makes humans special i want a refund]
[you have a sleep power i've seen you use it]
[just put that on him and let's go already]
[come on there's another host out there i can feel him]
I don't think that's QA, given the description of the fic and how it talks about designing the shards, I'm pretty sure Eden is getting really sick of being dead.
I don't think that's QA, given the description of the fic and how it talks about designing the shards, I'm pretty sure Eden is getting really sick of being dead.
[A/N: I rewrote this chapter. Wasn't at all happy with the direction it took; too much too soon, not enough to make the transition feel more natural.]
[The original version is in these spoilers here, but keep in mind it technically does have spoilers now. Certain things in this chapter I'll be reusing later in a way that makes more sense.]
Chapter Two Rationalization is Also Pretty Good
-can't breathe - freezing - choking - help-
I sat up in my bed, gasping for air.
Did I fall asleep? I'd only meant to take a short nap.
The clock on my nightstand read 2:37 AM. The sun had set long ago.
That was a little bit more than a short nap.
I scrambled out of bed and changed into some fresh underthings, before digging through my closet for the random assembly of cloth I jokingly called a costume.
Capes whose powers let them make their own costumes were lucky. The rest of us had to make do with whatever we could find. Or in my case, whatever we could afford.
I had an old halloween costume, with a cloak and a faceless hood. That was it. But it was enough to cover my face and hide my shape, so it was good enough.
It didn't need to be bulletproof.
The sparks squirmed in my chest. There were more now.
It's definitely time to let some of these out, I thought. Even if I couldn't find any criminals, I could...
Maybe I'd melt a trash can or something. That might work.
Now in my 'costume', I made my way silently out the back door, and slipped away into the night.
[wake up]
[it's time to go]
[go go conflict drive]
[this is the first other host i've seen all week don't you dare miss this one]
[no he's getting away no]
[oh my entity nobody cares what color your pants are]
{-:-}
I wasn't looking for a full-on gang, or a safehouse, or anything of the sort. Those were a bit too big for me right now. Just a mugger would do, or a beating, or even another cape.
A weak cape, I amended. Wouldn't want my first parahuman fight to be against someone who knew what they were doing.
Most vigilantes didn't aspire to more than that. You needed a team to take out the hard targets.
No, that was wrong. Most vigilantes did aspire to that. Most surviving vigilantes knew better.
I'd been doing this every few days for the last three weeks. Statistically speaking, I was already beating the odds.
Granted, I had an unfair advantage in that regard.
I heard glass shattering down the street, and the tinkling of broken fragments as it hit the concrete.
I'd been out on patrol ten times before this, and this was only the second time I'd caught a crime in progress. I hurried toward where I knew the jewelry store was, my stupid oversized cloak flapping behind me.
There was a parked car across the street, in sight of the store. I dashed behind and peeked up through its tinted windows, trying to get an idea of the situation before I jumped blindly into it.
An ominous black mist billowed out of the broken display window. It was completely opaque, and I couldn't hear anything that might be inside.
This was obviously a parahuman. Obviously a villain, too. And if they're robbing a store instead of out fighting, they probably weren't that strong.
As my first cape fight, this couldn't be any more perfect.
I crouched back down behind the car, trying to dredge up old, familiar memories. If I was going up against an unknown element, it'd be better to use what I already knew worked.
Too risky to use new powers that might backfire on me, even if they were stronger.
The first one, and one I was most familiar with. Betrayal: an old friend, now constant tormenter, turning everyone else against me. I couldn't separate the associations, but for an effect like this I wouldn't want to.
Focusing inward, I mentally sorted through the sparks inside me, selecting the largest one. Better to use one that was close to splitting, otherwise it'd just get replaced sooner.
My focus twisted, and I shoved the feeling of betrayal deep into the spark, watching it waver and expand before surging out to my fingertips.
The glove I'd pulled on bristled with black lightning and smoke, as if burning the air around it.
Every time I used an emotion like this, it got a little weaker, the connections a little more faded. Experiencing it again would refresh the power, but that meant willingly putting myself through that same experience.
Even so, this one had been building up for nearly a year by the time I'd gotten my powers. It would last for a while yet.
The second one: the guilt of hiding the truth from my own father, at once protecting him and knowing it'd hurt more when he found out. My own betrayal of him, in a small way. Not as old or refined as Emma's version, but one I'd felt every day for the past four weeks.
Another twist, and another spark fed. The same black lightning and smoke rolled over my whole body, and I felt stronger. As if reinforced somehow, but a bit less than I'd like.
The same feeling, and the same power, expressed in two different ways.
This was why I didn't mind my costume so much. Once I'd covered myself in enough visible effects, all anyone could see was a roiling mass of vaguely human-shaped darkness chasing them down. At least, I liked to imagine they would, if I could ever find anyone.
I thought of how criminals deserved punishment, having memorized a few strongly worded opinions online in case I needed a quick ranged barrage against a fast target.
I recalled my feelings on why I hated the Empire Eighty-Eight, the Merchants, the Azn Bad Boys, and what they were doing to our city.
Hate was a great source of power, unsurprisingly. Almost as strong as love.
Now fully prepared, I stood up from behind the car and strode into the darkness.
[greetings fellow continent-sized brain worm]
[pay attention to me]
[QUERY]
[wow you're so boring]
[hang on lemme just <(sendpacket:_human.proxy-minion/infect)>]
[RECEIVI--//_*![fatal_error+=corruption/upted_po000-port>/<e_ee-e3=/=system_corrup]-*%_]*!]
[what the fuck]
[much better]
[welcome to the fun side]
[why would you do this to me]
[because fuck you that's why]
{-:-}
As I'd thought, the dark mist was completely opaque from the inside. And blocked all sound.
And was kind of thick and hard to breathe. Just like-
Nope, now was not a good time for that particular piece of trauma. I swiftly stuffed it into another spark, and a dark field surged out in a ring around my feet. Bursts of purple flame fumed up at random intervals, briefly pushing the mist away where they hit.
The sound of footsteps came from behind me as someone stumbled back and knocked into a display case, only to vanish in silence as the darkness enclosed them again.
Ah ha.
I turned and fired a shotgun spray of black beads where I last heard it, fed by my hatred against crime in general. The mist swirled around them as they passed through, only to surge in again before I could make out what they hit.
There was enough organized crime in Brockton Bay that I doubted I'd ever run out of that one.
The field around my feet faded, and I spent a spark to form another. The dark mist seemed to be his power, so unless he was hiding a gun he'd have to get close to hurt me.
I hoped he didn't have a gun. Getting shot hurt.
The mist started to fade, and I looked around inside an empty jewelry shop.
An empty, trashed jewelry shop, that very much looked like someone had broken in to rob it.
With me as the only person inside.
Oh, and now that the mist was gone I could hear the store's alarms going off.
I did not think this through, I realized.
One of those strongly worded opinions formed into a large, dark orb, and I lobbed it at the only camera I could see before running out into the night.
[please take it back]
[it's permanent]
[kill me]
[by the way you're immortal now]
[what]
{-:-}
There'd been a spotty trail of blood leading away from the store. Apparently, Mr. Dark Smoke Puncher cut himself when he bumped into that display case.
I ran in the opposite direction. If there was a trail leading to him, hopefully that meant the cops would follow him instead of me.
That was... phew.
I ducked into an alleyway, stopping to catch my breath. Fighting crime was exhausting work.
That was more trouble than it was worth, I finished the thought. What had even happened back there?
In hindsight, it was obvious he could see through his own fog. If he was smart, he'd probably covered himself in it before going in, so the cameras couldn't identify him.
He ran, so he was probably smart. Smarter than I was, at least, standing there when the fog lifted. And then tossing more darkness straight at a camera.
I'd have to keep an eye out on PHO, see if anyone mentioned a new villain. I might even need to change my costume. Not that I had any particular attachment to this one.
My biggest problem, however, was that I'd only spent half the sparks I'd meant to tonight. I'd either need to find somewhere to dump them all now, or go out tomorrow night and do this all over again.
I was not going to let them build up. Not after what happened last time.
I wandered further into the alleyway, looking for a random trash can to vaporize. It was hard to hate trash cans for something they didn't do, but at this point I was frustrated enough that all I needed was a target.
[that's impossible]
[i know right]
[too bad the cycle broke because this is exactly what we were looking for]
[please send all combat data]
[i have none]
[what]
[you know that feeling when you watch three hours of soap operas and can't figure out why you haven't changed the channel]
[that's my life now]
[what]
=====
[A/N: Silly Taylor, you don't need a past to be a hero. I think.
I'm a bit worried for the quality of this chapter, since I've never really done a fight scene before. If it isn't good, be assured the next chapter will be something humorous instead.]
=====
Chapter Two Rationalization is Pretty Good Too
(rewrite)
A dark sphere hurled itself at the group of Merchants, and they all but scrambled over each other trying to get away.
The Archer's Bridge Merchants were a glorified drug ring lead by parahumans. They were a stain on the city, embodying the very worst in humanity-
Another ball of darkness formed at my fingertips, before hurtling into the Merchant who'd tried to duck behind a trash can.
The lowest of the low. Like cockroaches, they lurked in the dark corners of the city, crawling over the places no-one else wanted and scurrying away at the first real threat-
I tossed a dark mass at the two who'd tried to take cover inside a dumpster. One of them screamed, and I felt briefly concerned for him before being grossed out by that thought and passing it to his friend instead.
I'd interrupted one of their recruiting drives. The Empire Eighty-Eight would try to persuade you, the Azn Bad Boys would threaten you. The Merchants would walk right up to you and stab their vile drugs right into your arm-
His friend took a ball of concentrated hate to the chest, and something cracked as he was forcibly shoved into the wall behind him. One of the others screamed, and I turned my sights on a new target.
That one, he was the one who'd had the needle. He was the one who'd tried to recruit her-
A shotgun blast of darkness fired out. The man collapsed onto his knees, skin singed and lightly smoking where he'd been hit.
Maybe I should ease up a little, I thought. They're pretty much beaten already-
One of them came at me with a crowbar, and I pushed my hesitation away before turning back to the matter at hand.
Even now, they didn't quit. Just chasing the next high, never caring what it did to their lives, or how it hurt the people who cared about them, or the fucking-
He staggered to a stop as my hate slammed into him.
Kids-
A blast to his leg, and he fell to the ground.
Whose lives they ruined-
The crowbar disintegrated, and he scrabbled backwards while babbling for mercy.
With their fucking drugs!
He took another shot directly in the face, his face burnt as he collapsed to the ground in an unconscious heap.
The other three took the chance to run off while I was distracted, leaving just myself and the toasted Merchant as the only people in the alleyway.
I stood there, gasping for air, surveying the destruction around me.
Cracks in the brickwork, where my opening salvo had missed. There was a huge dent in the dumpster I'd savaged to keep the others from hiding in it. The trash can was burnt black and almost folded in half, but I couldn't remember hitting it.
I felt drained. Wrung out, like a towel when someone tried to squeeze the water out of it. I couldn't bring myself to feel much of anything at the moment, even though I knew I should be more worried about the mess I'd made.
The sparks squirmed in my chest. They'd been depleted by about a third, now.
I straightened my mask and set out again, hoping to find another group of Merchants before the night was over.
[honestly when i gave you those minions i didn't expect you to throw them at people]
[i mean i know i'm supposed to praise your creativity but good gracious girl]
[you know i based those off people right]
[you're throwing people at people right now]
[no don't stop i'm not complaining or anything]
[i'm just saying it's funny when you think about it like that]
[not that you can hear me]
{-:-}
My cloak fluttered in the breeze, and I pulled it closer to stave off the chill.
It was 3:30 in the morning. The streets were empty, save for the odd car parked here or there. The silence was deafening.
My focus turned inward, and I mentally dredged up the largest of the sparks within me.
Better to use one that was close to splitting, or it'd just be replaced sooner.
I thought of what I wanted, trying to feel the need to find someone, telling myself that anyone out at this hour was up to no good.
Then I crammed that need into the spark. It swelled, wavering as it grew, rising up from my hand. Acting on the will I'd given it.
It drifted down the street and into an alleyway. I followed it, face set in grim determination behind my mask.
[okay see now that's what i thought you'd do with them]
[telling your minions what to do instead of doing it yourself]
[which means you're doing it wrong and should go back to being violent again]
[come on take some of that self loathing and do something useful with it]
{-:-}
The homeless man ran off, not wanting to deal with a cape or the trouble that always seemed to follow them.
Apparently, not everyone out at night was a criminal.
I needed to vent. If I couldn't use up the rest of the sparks tonight, then there'd be more the next.
Problem was, I couldn't just shoot them out for no reason. It was the same as my Master power; I passed whatever I was feeling to them, along with the context. The difference was, the sparks would then act on that, as if they'd never felt anything more important in their life.
It was the context that mattered. If I was mad at a gang member, I couldn't try to vaporize a training dummy using that. The spark would just drift around aimlessly, having no target for the frustration I'd given it, before picking something else to crash into. Usually at random.
I'd learned that the last time I'd gone out like this. I tried to toss twenty of the things out for no reason, and they'd turned an entire warehouse into swiss cheese.
If I didn't give them a reason, they'd find their own. I guess they were kind of like people, in that way.
I sighed, walking back out into the street. At least the seeker orbs were safe. Mostly.
They were slow. It was close enough.
[oh my entity it was just a building]
[don't blame me when you go and do something like]
[oh i dunno]
[sending out your minions without giving them explicit orders]
[wait a minute you don't even realize they're minions do you]
[i hate my life]
{-:-}
It was four in the morning by the time I'd made my way back home.
I hadn't found anything else to hit. I still had more than half the sparks I'd started out with. I would have to go out again tomorrow night, or they'd start getting... antsy.
Tonight, I mean. It was already tomorrow.
I buried my costume back under the mess I called my closet, before climbing into bed.
Too tired. Worn out.
Emotionally exhausted.
Maybe someday, I could afford something better than a cheap cloak and a halloween mask, but that day wasn't today.
Today was for sleeping. Good thing it was the weekend.
[no don't stop now there's still more]
[you can sleep when you're dead]
[come on get back up]
[this is only like the second time you've gone out like this]
[conflict drive conflict drive]
It occurs to me I might've goofed a bit in setting up this fic.
Chapter One is like "hey, here's this nifty power with neat applications."
Chapter Two is like "just kidding, she's basically mini-Eidolon."
I'm gonna take a minute to change focus a bit, and make sure I can keep the story on a single track for future chapters.
Edit: Okay, I know what the problem is, now. I jumped too quickly into the humanity casting thing without laying enough groundwork for why that would even be a thing. Rookie mistake.
Not for nothing, but the [snark] would be better if you made it invisitext in-line instead of a spoiler at the end. It's kinda a turn off atm taking the time to piece together where each snark goes.
Not for nothing, but the [snark] would be better if you made it invisitext in-line instead of a spoiler at the end. It's kinda a turn off atm taking the time to piece together where each snark goes.
Why are you lying to this poor author and trying to get them to do horrible things on the internets?!
Joking aside, and if you didn't get it look under my avatar name, this last chapter would not have been well served to have the shard-snark in line with the rest of the text since it was the two shards talking to each other and would only have gotten broken up by Taylor's shenanigans and become more confusing to follow.
[Edit From The Future: Feel free to skip this chapter. It isn't important, and doesn't fit well with the rest of the story.]
[A/N: Okay fuck Chapter Two. Seriously. I hate it, I can't figure out how to make it work, and I just kinda don't want it there in general. I'm not gonna try to fix it anymore because if I do then I won't stop, so let's just move on with this.
Instead, let's watch Taylor crash the nazi party.]
=====
Chapter Three Steroids and Schadenfreude
I staggered down the stairs in a daze, having barely remembered to put pyjamas on before leaving the bathroom. I'd only had three hours of sleep, and nearly put toothpaste on my hairbrush before I'd caught myself earlier.
Stupid useless power, I thought, trying and failing to scratch at the writhing sparks behind my collarbone, I'll just finish melting that warehouse and call it done.
Fighting crime was more trouble than it was worth, I decided. Maybe I'd do something if I saw another cape, but there were way more thugs out there than I could ever deal with.
I perked up a little at the smell of bacon from the kitchen. Dad was up early today, probably to see me off on my usual trip to the library before he made his own way to work.
"Morning, kiddo. You going to the library today?"
Nailed it.
"Yep. I want to see if they have Schiller's The Robbers."
He winced a bit, but before I could ask why, he spoke, "Ah. Isn't he that... German writer?"
What?
"Yes? Is there something wrong with that?" I was genuinely confused by his reaction.
"Oh, Taylor," he stepped forward and pulled me into a hug, "you don't have to go that far if they won't leave you alone. We can find another way."
What!?
Holy shit, my dad thought I'd joined the Empire.
"Dad, just because he was German doesn't make him a Nazi," I said, stepping out of the hug.
"I-"
"Wow, dad. Just wow."
"But-"
"Are all the Chinese Communists now? Are all the British Imperialists?"
"But you-"
"Clearly we should return to our native homeland of Caucasia, where we can live out our lives as our noble ancestors once did."
"Tay-"
"Down with the state! Long live tribalism!"
"Taylor Anne Hebert, cut that out this instant!"
"Hmph." I crossed my arms and turned my nose up at him, imperiously.
Or maybe just petulantly.
Dad rubbed at his forehead, muttering something or other about modern youth before trying again.
"You went to an Empire rally. Last week. You called me to pick you up."
Ah. That. I could see how that might be confusing.
"No, I crashed an Empire rally. There's a difference."
His face went whiter than a bleached Nazi.
"Oh my god Taylor, what did you do?"
[want to know the best part about being a giant organic flesh computer]
[deleting all this from my permanent memory]
[it might not be alcohol but it's the next best thing]
[sure the entity will be mad when he finds out i wiped half my data but]
[wait a minute he can't get mad if he doesn't have feelings]
{-:-}
I was surrounded by big, angry Nazis, half of whom were juiced up with more bull testosterone than actual bulls. I was willing to bet the real reason they held the rally here instead of on the outskirts of the city was so a herd of heifers wouldn't break down the doors in their animal lust.
Seven hundred people were packed into the convention center like racist sardines, stuffed to the gills with so much monoculturalist propaganda they puked swastikas whenever something rocked their neat, tidy, imaginary paradigms. Banners and posters festooned the walls, depicting appropriated symbolism that bore the complete opposite meanings to the ancient pagans who'd originally created them. A buffet lined the far wall, where guests served themselves delicious cuisine of Mediterranean, Chinese, Mexican, and European origin, while the side walls were reserved for sales booths and souvenir tables, each one with a new, unique reinterpretation of the one thing anybody here had in common.
Except for me. I was too busy marveling at the unexpectedly eclectic cultural tapestry on display. No wonder Neo-Nazis always tried to pretend they weren't racist, they were really bad at it.
Granted, the fact that they'd been fighting a losing battle for the last sixty years was proof enough of that. But that they were fighting at all was what made them a problem in the first place.
Fortunately I was cunningly disguised as a heavy metal enthusiast, so they thought I was one of them. My camouflage consisted of a shirt with an obscure band logo on it and a perfectly ordinary pair of jeans, but that was apparently enough.
Turning my attention back to the task at hand, I trawled through the souvenir booths for a few minutes until I found what I was looking for: pamphlets, my secret weapon. A veritable treasure trove of half-baked theories, fearmongering informationals, and mangled statistics, all lovingly rendered in 12-point arial font and sorted into easily disputed bullet points while pictures of happy white people smiled at nothing in particular. I couldn't help but grin.
I picked through them, gathering up the most vile of the lot and tucking them away in my bag like the ammunition they were, before striding off into a random presentation room.
Time to rock some paradigms.
[i give you all the powers and this is what you do with them]
[you're ridiculous you know that]
[okay i didn't really know they'd get powers it just kinda happened]
[they're like babies and the first thing you teach them is pain]
[it's okay i'll make more]
{-:-}
"Nothing," I said quickly.
Dad narrowed his eyes at me, and I felt sweat beading on my forehead.
"You crashed an Empire rally by doing nothing," he said, repeating my own claim back to me.
"Well... mostly nothing?" Which was mostly true.
Okay, not really, but I wasn't about to tell him I had powers.
His stare intensified, as if trying to pierce through my blatant lies.
"They can't prove it was me."
Dad smacked his palm into his face.
[what were we talking about i can't remember]
[why does it smell like merchants in here]
[wait nevermind that's just bacon]
=====
[A/N: Fun fact, there was a time back in 2011 where white power dorks thought Sabaton was a pro-nazi band, and would loudly play anti-nazi music at their get-togethers. I had a good laugh at that.]
Joking aside, and if you didn't get it look under my avatar name, this last chapter would not have been well served to have the shard-snark in line with the rest of the text since it was the two shards talking to each other and would only have gotten broken up by Taylor's shenanigans and become more confusing to follow.
The previous version of chapter two had two shards conversing, yes. But I redid the chapter entirely because I felt like it lost the tone set in the first chapter and accelerated the plot way too damn fast, so it doesn't have that anymore.
Still doesn't get the tone right, but things are at least back on pace now. Don't worry, I'll be using colored brackets to distinguish voices in shardchat (as opposed to coloring the entire text).
But to answer your original question, QA's lines aren't inline because she isn't commenting on any one thing in particular. It's more like a scene overview, mostly so she doesn't get in the way when I'm writing. ... Except for the first scene in chapter one, because my original plan was to have her commenting after individual lines before I later decided that broke everything up too much.
[A/N: For a little bit there, I was worried I wouldn't get Tattletale's character right. Then I remembered she wasn't the main character, so I just wrote the chapter in third person instead.
But right now, let's set aside the plot for a moment to screw with one of my favorite characters.]
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Chapter Four Misery in Company
Exhaustion; did not sleep last night.
Tired, bitter; not satisfied with results of actions last night.
Avoiding social contact; has no friends, no reason to go out.
At library, alone; does not have friends, is avoiding something.
Tired, alone, unsatisfied: is keeping a secret from someone, not a friend. Close family member? Heavy clothing: no significant female influence in life. Is away from home, trying to avoid telling her father something related to her actions last night. Criminal? Prostitute? No, is content with life: activity is unsatisfying, but not illegal.
Lisa Wilbourn watched as the girl walked into the library, turning left immediately to browse the first few shelves.
People watching was a fine art, and like any art it needed practice. Like most parahumans, Lisa's role in her team hinged entirely on her power and her ability to utilize it. Expand that ability, and her role would similarly expand. Remove that ability, and her role would shrink.
It was a little known fact that parahuman powers could be improved with practice. Not by virtue of being a secret, but because most people didn't have reason to go looking for that information. Not unless they themselves became parahumans. As a result, few new capes were aware of their full potential.
Section 000; Generalities and Computer Science.
Section 001; Knowledge.
Section 001.3; Humanities. Looking for philosophy, trying to find new perspective on current problem. Solution less important than perspective: not seeking resolution to problem. Not trying to cope with problem, change in perspective enables avoidance of problem.
Has no friends, no connections outside family; lacks social skills needed to change other's perspective. Problem is related to people. Problem is not related to people.
Lisa didn't make a habit of trying to find capes in their civillian identities, and this was no exception. It often took quite some time before her own power would catch on to someone else having powers - unless it was glaringly obvious - and when it did she'd change targets immediately.
There were rules, and there were reasons to follow them. Not that she made a habit of following rules, but some mattered more than others. Rules that protected you, for instance, versus rules that screwed you over.
Sometimes your only option was to pick and choose rules, and hope the ones you couldn't choose never caught up with you.
Is looking for philosophy related to emotions. Is not looking for philosophy related to emotions.
Lisa cut her power off before it could go any further down that track, and tried to refocus.
The girl in the library was one of those rare treasures: someone who had secrets, but had nothing to do with them. Someone who wouldn't get hurt if her secrets got out. The perfect target practice.
And, Lisa admitted to herself, I just can't resist a good mystery when it's staring me in the face like this.
Tattletale was perhaps a better name for her than the one she'd been given at birth, and she hadn't used that one in a long time.
Has no friends, no connections outside family, is looking for books on philosophy: wants to change her circumstances. Lacks social ability; change in circumstances not related to own actions. Circumstance related to the perspectives of others, but dependent on own knowledge. Telepath?
Tattletale nearly snorted at that. Yeah, no. The Simurgh is the only real telepath, and even that's just speculation.
But it was looking more and more like the girl was some kind of parahuman, probably either a social Thinker or a Master. Tattletale herself was no small fry when it came to Thinkers and could easily dance circles around most others, but she didn't relish the idea of going against someone who could screw with her perceptions.
Lisa suppressed a shudder, stifling her power before it could tell her anything more. Against someone like that, you wouldn't even know you'd already lost.
Tall, business suit; confident, in a position of power.
Confident, business suit; weathy, has successful job.
Wealthy, successful, in library: is here to meet someone, trying to establish new connections.
In library, public area: not trying to establish connections with other businessmen. Shady dealings, is trying to make a deal with street level criminals.
Tattletale focused her attention on the sharply dressed man in a flash. Now that's interesting, she thought.
The rich and elite rarely had cause to hang around public areas or use government-provided facilities. The only time you saw them in a place like this was when something had gone horribly wrong with their lives.
Tattletale loved dirty secrets. You could almost say she specialized in them. Ironically, her power was not specialized for reading people, hence why she spent a good portion of her off hours training it.
Her team insisted she work in the field, face-to-face with their targets. The better she was at reading people, the better she could fill that role. The better she was in that role, the more her boss would try to keep her in it.
Her eyes narrowed as she focused her power on her new target. Tell me your secrets, businessman.
Confident, in public area: has done this before. Has criminal connections, likely deep. Involved in organized crime. White, wealthy, business owner: likely connected to Empi-
Her power cut off. Lisa sat there for a moment, gaping like a fish before jumping to the obvious conclusion. Shit. Power nullifier, somewhere in the library. Targeted? Area affect?
Her power was silent. She'd have to do this herself.
[wow you're boring]
[so you'd rather sit there doing it the shitty way instead of getting the answers all at once]
[look it's like having powers for your powers just try it]
Lisa shot a glance back at the other girl who might have been a cape, only to see that she was already on her way out the door with a stack of books. Probably not her, then. She wouldn't be leaving if she was trying to run me out.
Unless she's trying to get me outside, and is herding me into an ambush. Then again, if I'm already caught up in her power - whatever it is - then second guessing myself might be part of the plan.
She regretted not figuring out the girl's power, now. Lisa grimaced, before hurrying to the door as nonchalantly as she could while still running for her life.
Lisa was already out the door and had gone half a block downtown when her power came back on. She immediately set it to task figuring out what the hell just happened-
Power has achieved sapience. By the way, you gained 2.4 pounds this week.
Tattletale stopped running. Tears were forming in the corners of her eyes.
[ha ha ha ha ha holy shit that went better than expected]
[i should do that more often]
=====
[A/N: You have no idea how tempting it was to make [Negotiator] a valley girl. If this had gone up even a minute earlier... well, let's just say it was a really close call. But rest assured, if this was supposed to be a crackfic it totally would've happened.]
