Lisa shook her head, tabbing over to the PHO thread and scrolling down to Bumble's responses. If she'd had any doubt, the line about 'cutting her teeth' sealed it. God, she was practically daring thinkers to figure it out. And it made sense, too, because between being a Ward and being the Butcher, anybody with any sense would know not to go after her with anything even close to lethal force. "Not even a little bit. Somehow, she's stayed more or less sane after inheriting, although I have no idea if that would continue if she died again."
"What the fuck is she doing in the Wards?" Brian said, eggs all but forgotten. "And what does this mean for us going forward?"
"From what I can tell? It's her plan on how to not die early like her predecessors," Lisa said, shrugging a little. She pulled on her power a little more, ignoring the ice pick in her cranium with familiar practice. "And… honestly, not that much. She's keeping the kid's gloves on, near as I can tell. If we run into her, we're going to lose—that's almost guaranteed—but she's not going to actually hurt us unless we make her, and she's sandbagging enough that she'll probably let us go so long as we aren't hurting innocent people."
Brian let out a long, slow breath. "So we'll be going after the other gangs for the foreseeable future?"
Lisa nodded. "That, and well-insured businesses. Anything to keep the kid gloves on."
Brian nodded, then slowly brought his hot sauce egg monstrosity to his lips. After swallowing, he said, "This fucking city, man."
Lisa nodded in agreement. "This fucking city."
Idly, she wondered if Coil already knew who Bumble was. Well, she certainly wasn't going to be telling him, not unless he asked directly. The thought of what could happen if that man decided it was a good idea to try and seize control of Bumble for his own purposes was… chilling. She was certain he'd figure out eventually, but until then she was keeping quiet. No reason to draw the Butcher's attention unless absolutely necessary, she decided.
Emma Barnes
Emma checked her phone, a small frown crossing her face when she didn't see any new messages. It wasn't like Sophia to be ten minutes late, at least not without texting her first. She sent a quick text to the other girl, asking where she was, then slipped her phone back into her pocket. She took a sip of her caramel macchiato, eyes idly tracking around the café interior. It was a cute enough place, although the art on the wooden walls had a bit too much corporate energy for her tastes.
The bell over the door let out a soft ding, and Emma turned her head to see the familiar sight of Sophia. Honestly, the other girl didn't look that great. There were dark circles under her eyes, she moved with a certain caution that seemed more Shadow Stalker than Sophia Hess, and her braids were too loose, not tight against her skull like the other girl preferred.
Emma watched as her hero walked over to the counter, ordering something—well, Emma knew that it was going to be a simple black coffee, since Sophia had no patience for overpriced coffee shops and only went there because Emma liked them—and then drummed her fingers on the counter as she waited. She was impatient and jumpy, Emma could tell, far more so than usual. Something was clearly wrong. As soon as she had the coffee, Sophia walked over and sat down across from Emma.
"Hey, Soph," Emma said, holding out a fist.
Sophia gave her a tight smile back, bumping the fist. "Hey survivor," she replied.
"Problems at work?" Emma guessed, because that was usually what left Sophia stressed.
"You could say that," the other girl replied, tension clear in her frame.
"Is it your new coworker?" It was just a guess, but the way that Sophia's whole body went tight at that confirmed Emma's suspicion. "She looks like a wimp, from what I saw."
Sophia let out a hollow laugh. "She is," she said. "But also, she really, really isn't."
That left Emma more than a little confused. "What do you mean?"
"I can't talk about it, Ems," The other girl said. She licked her lips, eyes darting around them. "On an unrelated note, do you remember what happened to Hebert, last month?"
Emma paused, surprised by the shift in conversation. Of course she remembered what had happened to Taylor. "Do you mean on the first day of school, or that mess in Boston?"
Sophia took a deep breath. It was unsettling to Emma, to see the normally composed girl looking so unsettled herself. "Both, I think." Her fingers drummed on the table. "Okay, so there's some stuff that legally I can't tell you, but it would be dangerous not to tell you. Understand?"
Emma processed that for a moment, but her dad was a lawyer and she was well versed in that kind of technical speech. "Sure," she said, already starting to put the pieces together. It reminded her a little of doing puzzles with Aunt Annette and Taylor when she was younger, and how they would squabble over who got to do the edge pieces—no. She pushed that thought away, like she did all thoughts of her childhood with Taylor, the time when she had been weak and helpless.
Okay. What did she know? Sophia couldn't talk about the new Ward, Bumble. Given that she was more than free with her gripes about Vista, Clockblocker, and Kid Win in the past, that meant whatever was going on was bigger than just a personality dispute. And then she had immediately changed the subject to Taylor, which—
A piece of the puzzle clicked into place. "No," she said, in a somewhat horrified whisper. "It isn't—"
Sophia cut her off, holding up one hand. "I legally can't confirm or deny anything, Emma," she said, which was honestly confirmation enough. Emma's phone was back in her hands a moment later, searching up Bumble's image. The costume was ridiculous, and not something she'd ever expect Taylor to willingly wear, but if she looked past that Emma could see Taylor's distinctive long hair, could see her tall and gangly frame.
That couldn't be all of it, though. Sure, Sophia would be pissed to have Taylor as a coworker in the Wards, but that wouldn't leave her so frazzled or upset. There had to be something else going on, and she was going to figure it out.
Something tickled the back of her brain—a conversation she'd partially overheard between her dad and Danny Hebert over the phone, right after the attack. It had been an attack by the Teeth, if she was remembering correctly, that group of murderous Mad Max cosplayers led by the Butcher. A few more taps pulled up some of the local Boston news articles about the fight, refreshing her memory of what happened. People had taken notice of it because the previous Butcher died, from some kind of asphyxiation, although the body had been too decomposed to tell what had happened. There was some speculation that it had been some kind of accelerated time field that got the monster, since much of the body had been rotted away or consumed by scavenger bugs by the time they got to it.
By scavenger… bugs…
She tabbed back over to the PHO thread on Bumble, looking back to the known power section. Yeah, there was bug control, right there. She looked up Butcher's known powerset, and her eyes stumbled on the decay effect from Butcher IV.
Emma felt all the blood leave her face, and she looked up at Sophia. "She's…" Now her own lips felt dry. It was a bad idea to speak of the civilian identity of a cape in public, she knew, no matter how safe you might think you were. It was the reason she and Sophia engaged in this kind of run-around, to make sure that legally speaking Sophia wasn't breaking her probation in any provable way. Emma searched for the right way to phrase it, and then it hit her, because if pressed she could easily say it was just a fact. "Taylor is fifteen, right? Because she's about five months younger than me, and I just had my birthday."
Sophia nodded, solemnly. "That sounds about right. But you probably won't have to worry about that—I heard she got a transfer to Arcadia, and I think she's looking to put her past behind her."
A part of Emma wanted to flare up in anger at that—the part of her that had always thrown a tantrum as a kid when a toy had been taken away, and the part of her that had worked hard to tear Taylor down if only to prove that she was stronger. Emma was pretty sure that, once she'd processed everything, she'd be something of a wreck as she tried to reconcile the weak and pathetic Taylor she knew with a cape powerful enough to kill the fucking Butcher, and to stay sane enough to join the Wards. But a much larger part of her—a deep and primal part, the most fundamental survival instinct that she had spent the past two years cultivating—could only feel relief that she wouldn't have to attend school with an incredibly powerful cape who had a very good reason to kill her on sight.
She met Sophia's gaze, and made a decision. "On an unrelated note. We've got two pints of cookie dough ice cream in the freezer back home, the complete box set of Planet Earth, and half a bottle of Fireball that I found in Anne's room. You in?"
The look that Sophia gave her was like a drowning man being thrown a life preserver. "God yes," the other girl said.Last edited: 19/4/2025 Award ReplyReport1031ThaviaVex17/4/2025NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter Seven - Butchering Arcadia New View contentThaviaVexShe/Her26/4/2025Add bookmark#232a/n: I'm not in love with this chapter but it's words for the word throne. Next chapter will be Taylor's first patrol and, coincidentally, her first villain fight as well. It might be a little while before I get that out, though, since I'm going on a trip for the next two weeks. Then again, it's a long flight, so I might get more work done than I expected. Who can say? Also, as for the censoring discussion---I'm not changing it, but this is also not a fic that will closely follow Alabaster, so it's likely that it's a problem which won't come up again.
After the attack in Boston, Danny Hebert had called Winslow and excused Taylor for the next two weeks, citing a family emergency. It wasn't even a lie—she'd still been adjusting to inheriting the Butcher's mantle, and neither of them were certain that she would be able to attend school without murdering the girls who put her in the locker.
Joining the Wards had extended that absence another week, as well as finally getting Taylor a transfer away from Winslow High. That had been one of her mandatory requirements when joining, and frankly it was a minor enough item that Director Piggot had barely blinked when Taylor had brought it up.
Sure, she now had the combined knowledge of fourteen other individuals, including five with Bachelor degrees, two graduate degrees, and about three-quarters of a doctorate in Chemistry from Basilisk, all of which meant she could absolutely get her GED if she wanted, but the Wards had surprisingly strict policies about making sure their charges stayed in school at around the appropriate grade level. Enough Thinkers had tried to get around those restrictions with their powers that the legislation was fairly airtight. Abstractly, Taylor could admit that it made some sense: for one thing, letting Wards test out of school so they could work more would look terrible with regard to the whole 'child soldier' angle. There was also the whole thing about compulsory schooling being important for socialization, which was even more important for teenage parahumans who were by definition horribly traumatized.
And now, Taylor found herself in the strange position of, for the first time in nearly two years, actually looking forward to school. Sure, the classes might be a bit boring, but this was also an opportunity to make some friends with people who didn't know she was the Butcher and also weren't voices inside her head. She could put up with relearning elementary trig and redox reactions for that.
Her first impression of Arcadia was that it was substantially nicer than Winslow, in practically every way. No poorly painted-over gang signs, no decaying gray concrete walls or windows cracked and taped over. Instead, there was manicured grass and warm yellow colors and an inviting atmosphere that she wanted to distrust on principle.
"Have a good day, Taylor," her dad said. He'd driven her for her first day, despite her protests that she'd be fine with public transportation, but she couldn't help but appreciate the gesture for what it was. "It's going to be better than Winslow."
"Couldn't be worse, I guess," she replied, with a half-shrug, ignoring all the voices in her head booing her for tempting fate. "Have a good day at work, Dad. I'm catching a ride with one of my coworkers after school, and I should be back home by 7."
"I'll see you then, little owl," he said, hugging her tightly. She hugged back, far less tightly, since she had the brute packages to snap his back like a slim jim. Then he climbed back into their beat up old car and started to drive away.
She'd been instructed to arrive a good thirty minutes before school started, to give her time for administrative things and getting familiar with the school, and as a result the whole school felt eerily empty at the moment. Taylor had barely made it inside the door when she saw a familiar face—well, actually, a familiar cardiovascular system, since he'd yet to unmask to her. Gallant was standing there, next to a tall blonde girl that Taylor immediately clocked as Glory Girl. He froze when he saw her, then said something quiet to the other girl. For her part, the other cape turned and suddenly walked toward her, and it was only the lack of Hazard's danger sense that kept her from responding aggressively to the approach of what was clearly a popular girl.
"Hey! You're Taylor, right?" the girl asked, holding out a hand. "I'm Vicky, and over there is Dean. We were asked to give you a tour of Arcadia. First stop is the office."
It should be illegal to be that perky this early, Sepsis muttered.
That's not the only part of her that's perky, Cordyceps cut in, giggling even as she experienced the mental equivalent of a head-slap from Taylor.
Taylor took her hand in a firm grip. "Nice to meet you. I actually know Dean a little bit, from work." That seemed to genuinely surprise Vicky, which spoke somewhat well of Dean's opsec. Of course, the fact that Glory Girl was both publicly known to be dating Dean Stansfield and rumored to be dating Gallant spoke poorly of it, but the unspoken rules existed for a reason. Vicky began walking back toward Gallant, and then the two of them started to lead Taylor toward where her bugs had already mapped out was the main office.
"Wait, are you…" Vicky paused, lowering her voice and saying in a near whisper, "Bumble?"
"Now that would be telling," Taylor replied, with a little wink. She turned toward Dean next. "Nice to see you again, Dean," she said, going for the handshake as well, which he took nearly automatically.
"Nice to see you too," he said, his tone flat with buried emotion. "I thought you went to Winslow?"
"I did," Taylor replied, shrugging. "It… really wasn't very good for me, to be honest. Too many bullies. There were some concerns that things wouldn't go well if I went back."
She could see his heart beginning to beat faster at her statement. "Even with our other coworker there?"
Taylor grinned, a fierce and unpleasant thing. "Why would you assume she wasn't the problem?"
That seemed to really shake him. "How is she still alive?" he said, in a quavering voice.
"I'm not my predecessors," Taylor replied, to a chorus of disparaging agreement. "She's been twisted, and her little hobby didn't help things. She needs support and therapy, not an arrow through the skull."
Vicky had been watching their conversation like a tennis match, clearly displeased at being so left out of the conversation. "Wait, are you guys talking about Shadow Stalker? What did she do? And what do you mean, predecessors?"
"I'm a little surprised nobody told New Wave," Taylor said, arching an eyebrow. "Let's just say I've got something of a legacy behind me, and I'd like to keep it behind me."
More like keep it inside you, Wendigo said, teasingly.
Yeah, Taylor, how does it feel to have a man inside you? Absinthe cackled, before being punched down.
Puerile puns are beneath us, Devein replied with a faint sneer, marking one of the rare times that Taylor agreed with the unpleasant man.
Taylor's words seemed to resonate with Vicky, at least. "Oh, I get that. I mean, for me, it's more about my mom and the rest of New Wave, but I know what it's like to have expectations. Mom seems sure I'm going to be going to law school, no matter what I try to tell her."
"What do you want to do instead?" Taylor asked. It was a little pathetic that her social skills had atrophied so much that she had to rely on the Butchers' experiences for how to have a normal conversation, but she just ignored that unpleasant thought.
"Parahuman researcher," came Vicky's quick answer. "I'm actually taking a class at Brockton U on power expression right now."
That actually piqued Taylor's interest, more than she'd expected. "Yeah? Learn anything cool?"
Vicky nodded, a smile beginning to grow on her face. "Oh, for sure! Like, did you know that the reason why there are no true telepaths is because it would take a brain five times larger than usual to decode someone's unique neural patterns?"
Oh not that crock of shit again, Howitzer said, mentally shaking her head. How that dipshit managed to convince so many people with his pet theory I'll never understand.
Here she goes again, Absinthe said, rolling his eyes. Reviewing the memories, though, Taylor found that she agreed with Howitzer.
"Richards0n's Neural Density theory," Taylor replied, nodding. "Of course, that's complete bullshit."
She let out an indignant squawk. "What? How can you say that?"
"First, because it's assuming that you'd need to simulate the entire brain to extract any useful information, which isn't true." Taylor held up one finger, then continued counting up as she spoke. "Second, because it assumes that powers are constrained by physical laws, which is a laughable assumption. Third, because there are known parahumans whose powers would require equivalent mental processing: how do you explain Master powers that can directly modify how someone thinks, or precogs that can accurately predict hours or days at a time? What about the Faerie Queen, or the Butcher's ability to simulate fourteen other minds?" Dean made a choked little sound at the end, which both girls ignored.
Vicky paused, deep in thought. "Then how do you explain why there aren't any known telepaths? I mean, other than…"
"The Simurgh is only a suspected telepath, but there's little she's done that wouldn't be explained with advanced precog," Taylor replied. "And I don't know why there aren't any telepaths, but I do know that coming up with an obviously disprovable theory because the alternative is uncomfortable isn't the way to go about it. Elliot Richardson is a great writer, but he's a hack when it comes to actual research. Personally, I believe that true telepathy might violate the Sheindel Aggression Hypothesis, but that's just a theory." Well, admittedly, it was Howitzer's personal theory, one that she'd been conducting her doctorate research on before she had triggered and fallen in with the Teeth, but still.
Vicky stared at her for a while, then just shook her head, laughing a little. "Damn, you know your stuff. That felt like I was in one of Dr. Kugel's lectures. I'd love to talk more about this, but I've got to give you an actual orientation too." They'd reached the front office, and Taylor was close enough now to see the veins and arteries of the people already inside. "Alright, here's the office. Let's go and get your schedule, and then I'll point out where your classes are."
"Sounds good," Taylor said, smiling at the other girl. "Maybe we could talk more over lunch?"
Dean blanched at that, and cut in with a quick, "Um, I'm not sure if that's the best idea—"
But Vicky just waved him off. "C'mon, Dean. We're supposed to be student ambassadors, and that includes helping transfers get their footing and make new friends. It'd be more suspicious if I didn't invite her over for lunch."
Taylor resisted the urge to laugh, because she was pretty sure that wasn't at all why Dean had objected. Instead, she just took some small joy in seeing his defeated expression.
~*~
Angela Wu had always been tall for her age and fairly athletic, which was why she'd been scouted for the basketball team back in middle school. That was when she'd met Vicky Dallon, who even then had been a cheerful and talented girl. Vicky had been somewhat famous, for being the daughter of two public capes, but that had gotten her as much disdain from the other girls as it did acclaim. For her own part, Angela had appreciated that Vicky was also a bit of a nerd, even if her interests lay in a very different area than Angela's own. They'd become fairly close friends and ended up going to Arcadia together, joining the JV basketball team, as well as sharing quite a few classes. Even after Vicky's rather public trigger event, Angela had stayed close friends with the girl.
Now Angela was in her junior year at Arcadia, and the coach had told her she was more or less a shoe-in for captain next year. And she did like basketball, to be sure—the competition, the exercise, the complex plays—but it wasn't her passion. Honestly, she was mostly still on the team because she was angling for a sport's scholarship. No, Angela's true passion had always been literature—specifically Victorian Novels. She'd stumbled upon Jane Eyre in the library when she was eight, and from then on she'd been hooked.
When Vicky had first mentioned that she was inviting a new transfer student to sit with them at lunch, Angela's first reaction had been mild frustration. Vicky took the whole 'hero' thing seriously, and that also meant she was constantly volunteering to help people out, including becoming an Arcadia Ambassador, which basically just meant she was one of the people that prospies shadowed and new students clung to until they got their feet. It was a little annoying, but Angela was well used to it by now.
Then she had actually met Taylor, and she'd found her curiosity piqued. Vicky waved Taylor over a few minutes into lunch, and the other girl ended up sitting across from Vicky and, coincidentally, right next to Angela. She was tall, nearly as tall as Angela herself, and she had the physique of a serious runner. Her face was a little plain, her lips a bit too wide, but she had a certain quiet confidence that gave her appearance more weight than it otherwise would. Frankly, the other girl ticked quite a few of Angela's personal checklist when it came to her type: sporty, tall, confident, and intelligent.
The latter she found out because Taylor was, apparently, just as much of a nerd as Vicky herself. As soon as she sat down, lunch tray in her hands, Vicky started talking at her about Thinkers and Masters, and Taylor replied by citing some study, and pretty soon the whole conversation was going well over Angela's head. She shared a bemused glance with the other members of the group—Josh, Louisa, Vicky's boyfriend Dean Stansfield (with the Stansfields, the last name was necessary). Vicky's sister Amy had already left for the hospital, apparently—it counted as her vocational work, but most people at least ate lunch on those days. Still, Angela figured it probably wasn't a great idea to go around judging the miracle healer for her schedule.
After a while, Vicky seemed to realize she was being rude to the rest of the table and reluctantly allowed Josh to change the subject, but it was clearly an effort for her. Taylor seemed to appreciate the diversion, although she hadn't seemed bothered about talking with Vicky either. Maybe she just didn't enjoy the attention?
"What's your vocay?" Angela asked her, curious. Vocay, slang for vocational track, were the extracurricular opportunities that Arcadia offered. Ostensibly, it was to help prepare students for graduation through real-world opportunities, but pretty much everyone knew that it was a cover to let the wards leave school when they needed to.
"Business," Taylor replied. "I've got an internship with a marketing team downtown. Yourself?"
"Human services," Angela replied. "Helping out some of the teachers at Eastwood Elementary. I want to be an English teacher eventually."
To her surprise, Taylor actually perked up at that. "Oh, that's cool! My mom was an English professor at Brockton U, actually."
"Was?" Josh cut in, around a bite of pizza.
Taylor flinched a little. "Uh, yeah. She died a couple years back. Drunk driver."
Angela cut in, before the boy could put his foot further in his mouth. "I'm sorry to hear that."
The girl gave a half-shrug. "It's fine, I'm… well I'm not over it, but I've come to terms with it at least. Anyway, I've always loved books, and I've thought a lot about following in her footsteps."
"What was her field of study?" Angela asked.
"The Brontë sisters," Taylor said. "She was particularly interested in the stark contrast in imagery and tone between Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights, given that the authors had practically identical lives and education."
"That sounds really interesting. I love Jane Eyre, I've probably read it like twenty times, but it was such a slog to get through Wuthering Heights. I've always wondered why they're so different," Angela said, feeling herself really getting drawn into the conversation.
She ended up talking about the Brontë sisters, as well as their contemporaries like George Eliot and Charles Dickens, for most of the rest of lunch, and in the end they had traded phone numbers—she noticed that Taylor had a newer model of Dragonphone, and not many contacts, but she didn't want to interrogate her about it.
It had been clear, throughout the conversation, that Taylor was more than a little bit traumatized by something. There were little moments where she hunched over, as if expecting an insult, or where she paused for longer than usual. She'd at least said she had transferred from Winslow, and hinted that she hadn't had a great time there, and honestly Angela was pretty sure she could fill in the pieces from that. And yet, Taylor was also an engaging and interesting conversationalist, who seemed to know all kinds of interesting and random bits of facts and trivia, from details of the lives of Victorian Novelists, to intricacies of powers, to a surprisingly in-depth knowledge of Vietnamese cuisine when Louisa had mentioned that a pho restaurant had burned down over the weekend.
Dean had been strangely quiet all lunch, and he kept on looking over at Taylor, but maybe he knew a little more about what had happened at her old school and wanted to make sure she was settling in alright. Then again, Dean could be kind of weird in general sometimes, although he was unfailingly polite and kind, so nobody really faulted him for it.
They only had a few more minutes of lunch left when Josh brought up Bumble. Angela hadn't watched the debut live, but she'd seen the videos afterwards and she could admit to being a little interested in the new Ward, even if she normally didn't care much about cape news outside of making sure Vicky hadn't been hurt or killed.
"I'm just saying, I doubt she'll last long," Josh said, shaking his head. "I mean, a girl like that in Brockton Bay? That's just a bad match. I mean, isn't there the whole thing about cluster capes being weaker?" He looked over to Vicky, their resident cape expert.
"It's true that grab-bags on average have individually weaker powers," Vicky allowed, but she was wiggling her hand in a 'so-so' gesture. "But that doesn't mean they're actually weak. I mean, Mouse Protector's famously a grab-bag, but she's been on the scene for two decades."
"I mean, yeah, but she was also one of the first Wards. That doesn't count," Josh shot back, shaking his head. "Hey, Taylor, what's your take?"
Taylor looked up, apparently having been lost in thought. "Hmm?"
"What's your opinion on Bumble?" he asked. "Do you think she's strong enough last in the Bay?"
"I hope so," Taylor said, smiling slightly. "Besides, sheer power isn't everything. Even the strongest capes can be taken down by a bit of cleverness or a bad power interaction." For whatever reason, that comment caused Dean to flinch a bit, but Vicky just looked interested.
As the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch, Angela resolved to text Taylor some of her favorite memes about Victorian lit, the kind that none of her other friends would appreciate. Taylor was a strange girl, Angela decided, but then again they were all a little strange and nerdy in their own ways. She wouldn't mind having the girl sit with them again, and maybe eventually becoming an actual part of the friend group. And, well, Taylor was easy on the eyes and passionate about literature--Angela might spend some time figuring out if the transfer student was interested in girls as well. Award ReplyReport1072ThaviaVex26/4/2025NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter Eight - Butchering the Circus New View contentThaviaVexShe/Her21/5/2025Add bookmark#314a/n: This chapter fought me a bit, but I think I emerged from the scrap victorious. Sorry that this took so long, but between travel and realizing that I should probably figure out where this story is actually heading in terms of a long term plot that isn't just 'taylor trolls everyone,' it took some time to get out there. I mean, there's plenty of trolling still to go, but there's not enough meat on that particular bone to sustain the story without some actual plot and stakes as well, and I needed to figure out how I was going to make it both exciting and noticeably different from canon, other Butcher stories, and my other works as well. I think I've found a way to thread that needle, though. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter! I thought Circus would be fun for a first fight, and it very much was.
Honestly, Taylor hadn't been expecting to run into any actual villains on her first patrol. It was meant to be an easy route, around and through the Boardwalk, to familiarize her with the way that patrols worked and to familiarize the public with Bumble herself. It was very much not meant to be a field test of her combat abilities, but it seemed like that was the way it was going regardless.
For her first patrol, she had been assigned to go with Aegis and Kid Win. It made sense, to her—they could both fly, which meant that they could keep up with her teleports, and Aegis was the Wards' leader since Triumph had graduated a week before Taylor herself had joined. She could tell that the teen was still adjusting to his role as the leader, a task which she was sure her presence had not made any easier, but he had enough experience and natural charisma that she wasn't too worried.
The first half of their patrol went well enough. It was gratifying to see how many people's faces lit up at the sight of the Wards, and especially how many people had seen her debut video and were, if not exactly fans yet, at least excited to meet her. She ended up signing several notebooks and even a couple hoodies, and performed her pratfall routine a few times as well. She cracked a few jokes and made a couple puns, but her main appeal as a humor hero was in her slapstick, which required that she appeared far more earnest than her mousy mentor.
They'd wandered a few blocks off of the boardwalk proper when there was a faint crash in the distance, causing Kid Win and Aegis to pause, but Taylor's insects already knew what had happened. She'd been surveying everything in a three block radius, which meant she knew exactly when someone wearing a mask had surreptitiously stepped out of a car in an alleyway, walked fifty feet with a strangely graceful gait, and promptly materialized something incredibly heavy out of thin air right in time to shatter a large window.
The distinctive power use narrowed the possible suspects down to L33t, Circus, or an unknown. Given that they were alone, and weren't behaving with any of the spectacle that L33t preferred, she figured it was one of the latter two options. There was a man inside the building, and he shouted something when the glass first broke—Taylor couldn't hear well with this small of a swarm, but she could at least distinguish when someone was speaking—but a burst of heat that appeared over the unknown parahuman's hand, frying several of the gnats that Taylor had on them, caused him to bolt into the back. It also all but confirmed the cape's identity as Circus.
Who's this clown now? Butcher asked, because he'd been annoying during the briefing and Taylor had pushed him into the swarm.
Did you mean that literally, or was that an insult? Cordyceps asked, teasingly. Because I never thought I'd see the day when Butcher made a pun.
Fuck off, asswipe! Butcher snarled back, but he quieted down as Taylor started to apply mental pressure on his voice.
They were still a block and a half away. For a moment, Taylor considered not mentioning it, but her swarm radius was known and somebody would likely figure out that she had picked up what was going on. Touching a hand to her earpiece, she said, "Hello console! My bugs just noticed somebody into a jewelry store, and I'm like 80% sure they're not supposed to be there!"
Clockblocker's tinny voice came back. "What makes you say that, Bumble?"
"Well, they've got a huge hammer and they're breaking open all the glass cases," Taylor replied, shrugging a little.
"Sounds like Circus," Aegis said, on the channel. "She's a tricky customer, and even more of an escape expert than the Undersiders. Clock, you got her file?"
"Yeah, give me a sec," came the tinny reply, accompanied by the tapping of several keys. "Alright, Circus, yeah, here we go. Wanted for a series of low-stakes burglaries stretching back a year and a half, as well as property damage and assault, although nothing worse than bruises so far. Androgynous appearance, gender unknown but presumed female based on the costume."
"And their powers?" Taylor asked, slotting the information away.
"Looks like… huh, a grab bag. Known powers are enhanced reflexes and minor pyrokinesis, along with some kind of hammerspace or matter materialization effect that allows her to summon weapons at will. Suspected abilities are enhanced aim, proprioception, and balance, although that's unconfirmed since it could be at the high end of baseline human ability and that's a hard thing to determine in the field. Ratings are Striker and Shaker 4, with a probable Thinker 2."
"Are we clear to engage?" Aegis asked, and she could see him slipping into a more professional mindset.
"Threat level under 5 and no known reports of her attempting to seriously harm heroes, LEOs, or bystanders. Yeah, you're clear to engage," Clockblocker's voice said clearly in her ear.
Taylor nodded, even though the other Ward wouldn't be able to see it. She began to gather the friendlier insects from her swarm—moths and butterflies, bees, and beetles—and started to work on evacuating the surrounding buildings of civilians. Most of them were fairly empty, since Circus hadn't been particularly quiet when they entered the building by converting one of the windows into an improvised doorway through the judicious application of a hammer. There were still some people too close for her comfort—Taylor had a quite visceral understanding of civilian casualties resulting from cape fights—and it was these people that Taylor was doing her best to lead away from the fight. Fortunately, whether they recognized the insects as belonging to a hero or not, most people's reaction to an obvious and unknown parahuman ability was to get as far as they could away from it, so Taylor was able to clear the area by the time she and the other Wards arrived at the jewelry store. Well, except for the man who'd been in the back of the store when Circus arrived, but there wasn't much she could do about that.
"We're about a minute out, console," Aegis reported, as they turned a corner and the jewelry store came into sight. It had several large floor to ceiling windows out front, displaying several velvet lined tables covered with various necklaces and earrings, although one of the windows had been shattered and broken glass lay on the ground next to scattered jewelry.
"Copy that, Aegis," Clockblocker replied.
"I've got all but one civilian evacuated by my bugs, and I'm working on getting him clear as well." Taylor reported. "He's in the back, so try to draw the fight out toward the street. No other hostiles that I can sense within three blocks."
There was a short silence, as the other Wards realized what she'd been doing. "Well that's not terrifying at all," Clockblocker said, although probably he hadn't meant it to be loud enough for the earpieces to pick it up. "Uh, good work, Bumble," he said in a louder voice.
"Circus is an independent villain, so at least we shouldn't have to worry about her backup," Kid Win said.
I call bullshit, Frenzy said, in his quiet voice. A power like that, there's no way they've remained independent for a year and a half.
Oh come on, Absinthe replied, with a mental eye-roll.
Nah, Frenzy's got a point, Sepsis cut in. With that hammerspace, they could be making bank on secure transport of drugs or money for the Elite or any number of gangs. So why are they running around doing low-stakes jewelry jobs?
My guess? They've got a hidden backer, pulling the strings and keeping 'em out of jail. Mason mused. Could be the Empire, could be a bit player like Coil or the Undersiders, or they might even be a deniable asset for the PRT.
The discussion continued, drawing several more of the previous Butchers in, but Taylor let it drift out of her focus as she and the other two Wards reached the jewelry store. It was an interesting debate, but right now she was about to get into her first cape fight after inheriting, and she needed to focus—both to make sure she was following Mouse Protector's training, and to make sure she didn't slip up and fall back on her predecessor's bad habits that might result in dramatically eviscerating the burglar.
Aegis flew in first, Kid Win hanging back on his hoverboard with his tinkertech blaster in hand. Taylor followed a bit later, and finally got her first look at Circus. The cape was wearing a tight uniform stylized like a jester, in rich reds and purples that were layered into a stylish yet concealing costume. They looked damn good, especially since by all reports Circus never wore the exact same costume twice. The only incongruous part of their costume was the black dufflebag they were holding, which was currently unzipped and being stuffed full of jewelry.
Taylor's bloodsight let her pick up that Circus had both small breasts and male genitalia, which she absently filed away. Given that Circus had never explicitly made their gender preference known, it left Taylor with a bit of a dilemma.
Might be like me, Cordyceps mused. You know how I transitioned from a fungi to fungal?
That pun was awful, Basilisk replied, with a groan.
As always, Cordyceps is as much an advocate for trans wrongs as trans rights, Wendigo said, wryly. And besides, Circus could just as easily be genderfluid or non-binary.
I'm a little surprised you're all so accepting, Taylor said.
Eh, we all got a taste of gender dysphoria when Cordyceps and Wendigo inherited. Sepsis said, with a mental shrug. Besides, we may be monsters, but we've never been bigots. Well, most of us.
Fuck off, I was raised Catholic in the deep South, Absinthe shot back, although without much heat to his voice. I learned better eventually.
Fascinating conversation aside, they're currently robbing a jewelry store, and that means a fight, Taylor thought back to them. There was a chorus of cheers as she mentioned fighting, even as several voices complained about how lame it was that she was going non-lethal.
Aegis touched down next to her, and Kid Win brought his hoverboard to ground level a moment later. He touched a hand to his ear. "Console, I have eyes on Circus. She's inside of Gilding Jewelers on 33rd street, with clear signs of B&E and unlawful possession. We're moving in to engage."
"Copy that, Aegis," Clock's voice came back quickly.
Aegis flew forward, right through the shattered window, and touched down in front of Circus in a pose that was clearly meant to be intimidating. "Circus," he said, trying to project all his Wardly authority and disapproval. "You're under arrest for breaking and entering, destruction of property, and larceny. Please come quietly."
Taylor's bugs had already mapped out and evacuated all the nearby civilians, and her bloodsight just confirmed that she hadn't missed anybody. She could see the shop owner in the backroom, but fortunately he seemed to be smart enough to hunker down and wait for the fight to blow over.
For their part, Circus didn't look particularly impressed, setting down the bag and stalking toward the Ward. "Darling, I never come quietly," they replied, with a saucy wink. Then they whirled around and then reached behind their back, pulling out an absolutely massive wooden mallet with a cartoonishly large head, which they proceeded to slam into Aegis with a frankly impressive amount of force. Taylor could hear his bones crack and break under the impact, and if she wasn't aware that he was a powerful and flexible regenerator she'd probably have been worried. He flew backwards out the broken window, crashing into the asphalt about fifty feet away with a pained groan.
What a swing! Circus sends it clear down the fairway and onto the green! Cordyceps said, in an impression of a golf announcer.
Wouldn't a croquet or cricket joke would be more appropriate? Sepsis mused to herself.
Who the fuck even knows anything about cricket? Absinthe shot back. It's one of those fake sports the government made up, like curling or pickleball.
I do, Basilisk said, quietly. My dad was from India, so I grew up watching with him.
Taylor tuned out the resulting conversation, watching as Kid Win made a bee-line for the downed cape. It made sense: between her and Kid Win it was an easy choice for who should approach the villain next, and she would have been surprised if Win had let her near an injured Aegis anyway. Circus twirled the hammer around once, blowing imaginary smoke off the head, and then they almost seemed to tuck it in their pocket where it vanished without a trace, despite the physical impossibility of that action. The few gnats that Taylor had managed to sneak onto it disappeared completely from her senses, which made an extradimensional pocket quite likely.
Stepping through the now shattered floor-to-ceiling window that Aegis had passed through, Bumble made her way onto the scene. There was something she had to take care of first, though. "Excuse me? Before we do the whole fighting thing, could I ask your pronouns?" she asked.
Through her bloodsight, Taylor could see Circus raise their eyebrows underneath their mask. "Honey, I'm all woman," the other cape said, in a surprisingly smoky voice.
Yeah she is, Wendigo said, their lust clear in their voice, and several other Butchers cheered in agreement. Taylor did her best to ignore it, because she could deal with bloodlust and rage but she absolutely could not handle dealing with horny voices in her head.
"Good to know," Taylor replied. "And, uh, same. She and her and all that. I guess we do the fighting now?"
"I guess we do," Circus said. "I saw your debut—you're a brute, right?"
"Yeah, but why does that oh my god hammer!" Taylor cried out, disappearing in a teleport right before the hammer would have connected. She reappeared behind Circus in a stumbling fall that coincidentally happened to leave her next to the duffle bag that had been stuffed half-full of jewelry. She flailed in surprise at her fall, and one arm caught the bag and sent it skittering toward one wall, away from both her and Circus. Then there was the hammer coming down again, and Taylor's teleport had recharged enough for her to teleport back on her feet about fifteen feet away, close to the already-broken window.
"Aegis said you had a hammer space, but it feels like you're just going all hammer face on me!" she said—that had been one of Cordycep's contributions, but the pun had been too stupid not to use, even if it got her a bunch of boos from the other Butchers. As one part of her attention focused on quips and witty banter, another, much larger part was working to analyze the other cape.
Circus was good. That was the first thing Taylor noticed, from the decades of fighting experience that the Butcher Collective gave her. She moved with an easy grace, although the way her balance didn't so much as falter when she pulled out the hammer confirmed that it was a power effect.
Taylor weaved around the next few swings of the hammer, already starting to adjust to the other cape's fighting style. Circus seemed to rely on her ability to defy conservation of momentum with her hammerspace, but she was far from the first cape to have an ability like that—heck, the Butchers had scrapped several times with Chevalier, and manipulating weight and length mid fight was one of his primary tricks. Of course, as Bumble, she made sure to make it look like she was barely dodging the blows through lucky, fumbling movements, but she could tell that Circus was getting frustrated.
You have to get her away from the merchandise and the civilian, Hazard said, a little unhelpfully, because what did he think she was trying to do? What about the switcheroo gambit? Okay, that was actually a pretty good idea.
The next time the woman swung her hammer, Taylor stepped into the blow instead. She flared the surface level force fields from Novocaine and relied on her other handful of brute packages for the rest, then timed a jump backwards to go with the attack rather than against it. It was almost certainly overkill for a blow of this level, but Taylor didn't want to get into bad habits. The hammer struck her crossed arms and sent her flying out towards the street, just like Aegis. Unlike her fellow Ward, however, Taylor had access to a different mover ability than his flight.
She teleported right behind Circus, carrying all the momentum with her, and crashed into the cape butt-first. They went down in a tangle of limbs, rolling out through the broken window and out onto the street. She did have to use Mason's power once to stop a piece of broken glass from cutting into Circus's neck, but for the most part between the other woman's thick costume and Taylor's brute package they were safe enough.
"Oof! Did someone get the number of that bus?" Taylor called out, rolling off Circus and stumbling to her feet. The other cape performed a kip-up to leap to her feet, staring at Bumble with a wary expression.
"You're good," Circus said, her voice very serious.
Taylor giggled in response. "I'd hope so," she said. "I'm one of the good guys, after all."
I fucking hate that expression, Devein grumbled. Good guys and bad guys, like it's all that simple.
I agree in the abstract, Mimic said. That being said, you liked to make people watch while you drained their loved ones like a capri sun, so I'm pretty sure you're the bad guy no matter what.
Circus' expression grew more focused. "I suppose I'll have to take this a little more seriously," she said. One hand came off from the hammer, and a ball of flame erupted into being above her palm, hot and roiling.
Taylor looked at it, then she bit her lip. "Are you sure you want to escalate, Miss Circus?" She reached out with Mason's power, which as always was a bit more sluggish than Mason herself remembered, and took control of the ground beneath Circus' feet, making it roll slightly—enough to send a message, at least. There was a faint buzzing sound, too, as she summoned part of her swarm. Admittedly, only the more charismatic members, but the implicit threat was there.
Circus paused, looking at Taylor, and then at Kid Win and Aegis, the latter of whom had recovered enough from the first strike to be flying intimidatingly behind her. Kid Win was on the ground, his tinkertech pistol out and leveled at the villain—a sacrifice of mobility for better aim, something he struggled with while flying the hoverboard at the same time. Then her gaze flicked over to the jewelry store, landing on the duffle bag that was now well out of her reach. She gave a small nod. "Well, I'm not too proud to admit that I know when I'm beat." Then she whipped her hand around, and the small fireball expanded into a massive wall of fire, blocking their vision entirely. Taylor was mostly fireproof, as was her costume, and Aegis would be fine with time, but that wasn't true for Kid Win.
She reacted without even thinking, teleporting in front of the tinker and covering him with her body. Mason's power erupted from her, causing the ground behind her to stretch up and form a loose wall that the fire splashed against. What fire did reach her was far colder than she expected, and she realized a moment later that it wouldn't have done much more than singe even a normal person. That was the only thing that spared Circus from being hunted down and taken in.
Because yes, Circus had used the distraction to escape, racing back to the alleyway she'd first come from. Taylor still tracked her with her bugs and bloodsight, and so she saw the moment when Circus threw open the passenger door of the idling car and jumped in, just as the driver stepped on it and peeled away. She made a mental note that Circus clearly had access to some kind of help, and she was also more than a little skeptical that this break in, so close to the patrolling Wards, was in any way a coincidence. There would be time to examine that later. And yes, Taylor could have chased her down, but at the end of the day Circus hadn't seriously hurt anyone, and so she didn't deserve to have the full might of the Butcher on her tail. She'd played by the rules, so Bumble would do the same.
The Butcher does what he wants— Butcher said, right before Taylor took his advice and muted him, to the laughter of several members of the chorus.
Taylor turned back to Kid Win. "You alright?" she asked, even as she used Mason's power to smooth the impromptu asphalt wall back into the street. She felt Mason perk up a little, intrigued at Taylor's attempts to get the asphalt to lay exactly how it used to. The other cape had rarely been concerned with repairing things both before and during her tenure as the Butcher, and found Taylor's focus on it to be 'naive and childish, albeit rather interesting'.
"I'm fine," Kid Win said, staring at her in confusion. "You, uh, didn't need to do that."
She gave him a sheepish shrug. "Sorry about that! I just kinda… panicked, you know? Didn't mean to go crashing into you."
He gave her an incredulous look, then his eyes glanced over to Aegis in a 'are you seeing this shit?' gesture. Aegis just gave a slow nod.
"So, uh, do we help with the clean-up, now?" Taylor asked, tilting her head to the side.
"Oh, no," Aegis replied. "That's usually taken care of by the PRT."
Taylor frowned, just a little. "That doesn't seem really fair, though. And Miss Protector always told me to clean up after myself." She walked over to the broken glass window and reached out with Mason's power, using her insects and Mimic's sense of what he could empower to find all the glass shards. Then she flexed Mason's control and the glass shards turned almost liquid, although it stayed room temperature, and they all began to flow backwards toward the shop window. She kept concentrating on the glass, reaching out and touching it once enough had formed in the window to increase her control, and gradually began to shape it into a smooth, transparent window pane. The power had grown weaker since Mason died, so the glass still had obvious cracks where it had broken the first time, but that was just cosmetic. She pretended not to notice that the jeweler in the back had come out in time to watch her work, just as she pretended that it hadn't been her moth which had brought him out, and just as she pretended that she didn't know he was recording everything on his phone.
When it was about as good as she could get it, Taylor stepped back and wiped her brow. "Whew! That always wipes me out." She looked up then, as if just noticing the man. "Oh! Hello sir, I'm Wumble from the Bards! No, wait, that's definitely not right." Her brow furrowed in concentration. "Right! I'm Bumble, from the Wards! Um, I tried to fix your window, but I don't think I got it exactly right. Um, I think your jewels and gold and stuff are still in that bag over there."
The man surreptitiously hid his phone, although he didn't stop recording. "It's no problem, Miss Bumble," he said. "Thank you for trying, and for driving off that thief."
"Just doing my duty!" she said, with a goofy gesture that could charitably be called a salute, and then she teleported outside, appearing a foot too high in the air and stumbling into Aegis, who caught her on reflex and promptly let her go like she was a burning poker. The Butchers in her head grumbled and laughed, and Taylor just did her best to resist feeling hurt by his action. This was all part of the plan, after all.
"Circus was successfully repelled, but she escaped capture," Aegis reported back to Clockblocker.
"Copy that," came the reply. "Orders from above came in, we're cutting the patrol short. Bumble, the director said she wants to speak to you about something."
"Okie-dokie!" Taylor replied, a small but genuine smile crossing her face. Let's see what Director Piggot wants from me.Last edited: 22/5/2025 Award ReplyReport990ThaviaVex21/5/2025NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter Nine - Butchering A Discussion New View contentThaviaVexShe/Her27/5/2025Add bookmark#468Two Days Ago
Emily Piggot stared at Gallant in horror. He'd just finished reporting on Hebert's first day at Arcadia, and he'd brought some unpleasant news with him. "What the hell do you mean, Shadow Stalker caused her trigger?"
~*~
Present
After the Circus fight, Taylor had just had her first brush with the way that bureaucracy handled cape fights. In her case, it had meant filling out five different forms as part of an after action report, although at least Aegis had been kind enough to guide her through the process. Several of the Butchers had complained about the tedious work, and it had been a bit distracting trying to split her focus between shoving them into her swarm and filling out the paperwork on a provided laptop, but surprisingly (or perhaps unsurprisingly, really, given that the woman had been a Ward herself at one point) Cordyceps had been rather helpful when it came to writing the actual report. It had only taken her an hour to work through the papers, and she was pretty sure that with experience she could get it down to half of that.
Taylor was just waiting for the director to get out of a meeting, so she was kind of just killing time. She had amused herself for a while by practicing playing catch with herself across the common room, tossing one of the couch pillows back and forth across the room. Eventually, she wanted to be able to play ping-pong against herself, but her control over her teleport was still too shaky for that. It was good practice, though, trying to minimize the time between each teleport and getting better at shaking off the disorientation of suddenly being in a different place, with all the disorientation that created between her traditional and parahuman senses. Clockblocker, out of his costume and wearing a domino mask and a baseball cap to hide his identity, had less paperwork to fill out, just being on console, but he had still positioned himself as far away from her as he could get, shoulders hunched as he worked on a homework assignment. Aegis didn't pay her much attention, at least not outwardly, although there was a degree of tension in his body that belied his seeming nonchalance. Kid Win, for his part, didn't even pretend after a while, pushing his paperwork aside and focusing on her.
"What are you doing?" he asked, eventually.
She paused, taking a moment to catch her breath. It wasn't actually physically tiring, but there was a certain mental exhaustion that she felt strongly. "Practicing," she replied.
What the fuck does it look like she's doing? Sepsis snarked. Underwater basket weaving?
I did that once, Frenzy said. It was actually really fun.
Taylor blinked, as she and the rest of the collective 'remembered' the experience of Frenzy taking a class with his boyfriend back in college, where he'd gone out snorkeling in the Pacific ocean and learned how to turn strands of bamboo into a woven basket.
What the fuck, Frenzy, Absinthe said, which felt like a fair response to Taylor.
Kid Win gave her a curious look. "Practicing what, exactly?"
"A few things," Taylor replied. "Mainly my teleport, but also my situational awareness and using Quarrel's power without making it too obvious."
His brow furrowed. "Quarrel?"
"Oh, uh. Butcher XIV. Her power let her basically hit whatever she was aiming for. It's how she took out XIII, sending an arrow right through Wendigo's eye." Taylor demonstrated the power, picking up the pillow and tossing it casually into the air, before Quarrel's power took over, warping space strangely in a manner almost reminiscent of Vista's own power before it landed neatly on the sofa, looking just as it had before she'd grabbed it. "It's a bit too distinct for me to use that kind of drastic correction, especially since she was the most recent Butcher and the most likely for people to recognize the power. Kind of a shame, her power's one of the most interesting ones."
Piss off, it's not my fault you decided to be a pussy and join the weenie hut junior hero club, Quarrel snapped. Taylor didn't even bother to push the woman into the swarm, because that was honestly fair.
Kid Win gave her a long, considering look. "Huh," he said eventually.
"Huh?" she asked.
"It's just… sometimes I feel like I see you goofing off like that, or tripping and stuff during the fight today, and it's easy to forget you're probably the most deadly cape I'll ever meet. Then you say stuff like that and it just hits me." He shrugged, although he didn't look as scared right now. Aegis, for his part, had tensed up even more, although he was still studiously pretending not to notice what was happening.
"You're telling me," she said, shaking her head ruefully. "Like, I'm actually on pretty good terms with Wendigo, they're pretty chill most of the time when they're not winding someone up, and then I'll remember that they also regularly ate the bodies of the capes they killed to use their powers. And I can remember them doing it, and what human flesh tastes like."
Hey! I resemble that comment! Wendigo said.
Say what you will about the rest of us, but at least we weren't fucking cannibals, Novocain muttered under his breath.
Oh yeah, you just liked to torture people to death slowly while amplifying their perception of pain, Wendigo snarked back. I don't even get why the cannibal thing is worse than murder. They were already dead, I was just like, using the whole animal.
Please, not the 'cannibalism is actually the more moral option' debate again, Frenzy said, sounding tired already.
"That's like… super fucked up," Kid Win said, looking a little nauseous behind his mask.
"Yeah it is," she said.
He bit his lip. "What… what does it taste like?" he asked, in almost morbid curiosity.
"What the fuck dude," Clockblocker said from the other side of the room.
Taylor couldn't help the little giggle that escaped her. "Uh, it's kind of gamey, especially the muscles. Somewhere between pork and veal, I guess, kind of sweet and a bit bitter. Wendigo mostly ate it raw, though."
"That's so nasty," Kid Win said, staring at her with wide eyes.
"I know, right?" Taylor replied, shivering a little. "And honestly, Wendigo's one of the better Butchers, at least when it comes to wanton murder and stuff."
Hey! I was great at wanton murder! Sepsis said, with an imagined pout.
That's Taylor's point, dumb dumb, Absinthe said dryly.
Fuck you! Sepsis snapped back, and the two of them were gently pushed down as they started to squabble again.
"What the fuck," Clockblocker whispered, his face a stark white under his mask. Her bloodsight let her actually see his veins engaging in vasoconstriction and redirecting blood away from the skin and toward his organs as his body flooded with adrenaline. Actually, that reminded her that she should probably bring up the awkward situation her bloodsight had put her in.
"Exactly," she said, nodding at him. He flinched back, with a little whimper. "Also, um, is this a bad time to mention that I know all of your identities?"
Aegis froze, then turned to look at her. "What do you mean?" he said, his voice sharp.
"I've got bloodsight from Devein, the second Butcher. It's not exactly sight, cause it doesn't interfere with my vision, but that's the closest term for it. Point is, people's cardiovascular systems are pretty recognizable, especially because I can see when someone has an active Corona Pollentia. I, uh, don't know how much you know about parahuman neurology, but the Pollentia is uniquely adapted for each power and person, although certain power classifications have shared common features. Kind of like a fingerprint, I guess, so if I see your brain in here and then I see you again at school, it just kinda clicks."
There was a long silence after that, as the other Wards seemed to be processing what that meant, one that Aegis finally broke. "We already know each other's civilian identities, so you can tell us what you know."
That was fair, she guessed—extraordinary claims and all that. "Well, Kid Win is Chris Johnson, because he's in my US government class, and tinkers have really clear connections between their corona and their frontal lobes. Dennis is in Calc BC with me, and his corona's hooked into the cerebellum which is pretty usual for strikers. I don't have any classes with you, Carlos, but I've seen you talk with Dean a few times. Actually, I didn't even need to see your brain to figure that one out, because your cardiovascular structure is completely different than a baseline human."
"Huh," Aegis said, a concerned expression on his face.
"Should I be concerned that you're talking about the shape of my brain right after you were talking about cannibalism?" Clockblocker joked, although in a shaky voice.
Taylor probably should have been a little insulted, but it was clear that he was just trying to use humor to cope with a stressful situation, so she just laughed a little instead. "Oh, you don't have to worry about that. Brain is way too waxy and creamy for me."
Boo, Wendigo complained. Brain's delicious, like pâté or roe!
And I also don't like either of those, Taylor replied, dryly.
Dennis stared at her. "I really don't think that's as reassuring as you think it is," he said.
She blinked a few times. "I mean, also because you're my teammate and you kind of need your brain, but I thought that went without saying."
"Honestly, sometimes I've had some doubts about whether he's got one at all," Chris muttered.
"Hey!" Dennis shot back.
The conversation was interrupted then by the mask alarm for the Wards common room, which suddenly blared a warning. After thirty seconds, in which everyone straightened their masks and Taylor used her bloodsight to figure out exactly who was approaching through the door. A corona but it wasn't activated, and she could tell from the way the blood flowed around the man's left thigh that he'd suffered an old injury there.
When the door opened, she wasn't surprised to see a familiar PRT trooper standing there. "Bumble," he said, not unkindly. "The director can see you now."
~*~
Once more, Taylor followed Gabe Hernandez to the director's office. Of course, Taylor could have walked their blindfolded, quite literally, since that would do nothing to impede her bugs or her bloodsight. That also meant she could have just teleported to the woman's office, but she had the sneaking suspicion that such behavior would be frowned upon by the stern woman. "Good luck," Gabe told her, as they reached the unassuming office door.
"Thanks, Gabe," she said, with a small smile that he returned. Then she knocked once, waited for the 'enter', and went inside.
"Bumble," Director Piggot said, as Taylor entered the woman's office. "Or do you prefer Ms. Hebert in private?"
"Bumble as long as I'm in costume, ma'am," Taylor replied. She felt a little like that had been a test, but she didn't know if she'd passed or not. The woman was hard to read, sharp and acerbic, and yet she clearly cared deeply about the city and the people under her care, and Taylor couldn't help but respect that. She had the appearance and attitude of a woman who tried to take care of a body that was actively betraying her, which from what her bugs had picked up about her medical treatments probably wasn't that far off. Some of the Butchers had tried to make a few disparaging comments, but they'd been punted deep into the swarm, because frankly Taylor had put up with enough insults to her own appearance that she wasn't about to deal with that shit. Besides, Emily Piggot may have been overweight and out of shape compared to the average trooper, but it was clear that was only due to factors entirely outside of the woman's control.
"Understood." The director took a deep breath, as if bracing herself for the conversation. "There are a few things we need to discuss, and I thought it would be best if we took care of all of them at once. Let's start with the Circus incident on your patrol today."
"Yes, ma'am," Taylor replied. "Was there a problem with my after action report?"
The director waved her hand. "No, not really. It was surprisingly well written, for a Ward."
It damn well should be, Cordyceps grumbled. I didn't spend two years forced to learn that shit for it to be anything less than perfect.
"I've got some more experience than the average Ward," Taylor said, half joking.
To her surprise, Piggot let out a quiet snort of amusement. "I suppose you do, at that. In any event, that's not what I wanted to discuss. I was curious why you let Circus go."
"She escaped, ma'am," Taylor replied, trying not to bristle at the accusation.
"Don't play dumb with me, Bumble," Director Piggot snapped, that sharp edge coming into focus. "We both know that you have enough power and skill to have stopped her if you'd wanted to."
Hell, just the pain blast or one of Basilisk's poisons alone could have done it, Absinthe said casually.
Honestly, Taylor could probably have soloed with just her bugs if she went all out, Wendigo replied.
At that, Taylor leaned back in the chair and sighed. "I could have, yes."
"Then please explain why you didn't." The woman paused, as if debating whether to include the next part. "You're not in trouble—The Youth Guard would eviscerate me if I tried to punish a Ward just for failing to capture a supervillain. I'm just curious."
Taylor laced her fingers together, a habit she'd picked up from Howitzer, and marshalled her thoughts. "I suppose the best way to frame it would be to talk about what my objectives were, during the fight." The director inclined her head.
Honestly, having any priority other than 'putting your enemy six feet under' is just asking for trouble down the line, Howitzer cut in, with her usual blunt manner.
Jesus H. Rollerblading Christ, we are not having this debate again, Hazard said, the only one who had still been a hero at the time of inheriting. Heroes can't go running around murdering people all the time.
Several other Butchers tried to respond to that all at the same time, and Taylor did her best to tune out the squabbling argument that line of discussion descended into, focusing on her own conversation with Piggot. "So, I had five priorities that I was keeping in mind during the fight, in descending order of importance." She held up a closed fist, then began to raise her fingers to count off each one. "My first priority was to ensure that no serious harm came to civilians or the other Wards. My second priority was to minimize property loss and property damage. Third was to maintain my persona and not use the more dangerous, permanent, or lethal aspects of my power. Fourth, to prevent Circus from engaging in further criminal activity. Fifth, to physically restrain or otherwise capture her."
Piggot seemed to mull this over. "How did you come up with that list?" she asked. "I'm interested that you put the villain's safety above stopping their criminal activities."
"A mix of Mouse Protector's lessons, the Wards handbook, my inherited memories, and the current situation," Taylor replied. "If I'd been fighting someone with a record of lethal violence, or a villain attempting murder or assault, I might have behaved differently. As it is, Circus goes out of her way to not cause serious injury, so I returned the favor."
"She hit Aegis with a hammer hard enough to throw him forty feet away, breaking half his ribs in the process," came the director's deadpan voice. "And she shot a wall of fire at three Wards."
"Aegis is a known brute with regenerative abilities," Taylor replied. "And the fire was more flash than substance, almost certainly well below what she's capable of. Circus has almost never caused permanent damage to civilians, despite being more than capable of it."
Slowly, the director nodded. "So your claim is that you failed to capture Circus because it would have violated the more important priorities."
And because Taylor's a weak bitch— and there went Quarrel, into the dark.
"Exactly," Taylor replied. "Specifically, Circus has relatively powerful pyrokinesis. If I made a serious effort to capture her, she might well have felt like she had to use it, which would have set the store on fire and caused more property damage as well as risking the lives of any civilians in the nearby buildings. Given that I had already recovered the stolen goods that she hadn't already stored in her pocket dimension, I didn't deem that worth the risk."
Piggot let out a long, slow breath. "Well, I suppose I really can't fault you for that," she said, voice quiet. "Obviously, I'd prefer to have Circus in custody, but not to the point of risking people's lives or livelihoods, not without a track record far worse than she's got. And you did a good job of staying in character, so Image should be happy with you."
Taylor furrowed her brow. "Wait, how do they know that?"
"There was a security camera and video of the fight has already leaked, apparently," the director replied. "Which probably means that the owner of the store posted it online, but that's not exactly illegal."
Oh hell yeah, I love it when they catch us on camera, Cordyceps said, sounding more than a little excited. Remember when someone got that footage of our fight against Bastion in '09 and they edited it to have some hardcore death metal blasting in the background? Shit was great.
Yeah, but for Taylor they're more likely to edit in 'Yackety Sax' than 'Maze of Torment,' Absinthe said.
"Huh," Taylor said, feeling more than a little annoyed with herself for not noticing the camera. Still, it only served to prove what Mouse Protector had told her before: 'You need to stay in character, even when you're just with teammates or there's nobody around. Always act like someone is watching, especially when you think you're alone.' Taylor's reply then, that she really did always have fourteen people watching at least, had gotten her a playful swat upside the head. "You mentioned there were several things you wanted to talk to me about," she prompted.
The director nodded, her face setting into an even more displeased expression. "Shadow Stalker," she said.
"Sophia Hess," Taylor confirmed, nodding. "Gallant told you, huh?"
The director fixed her with a piercing look. "It's a concerning claim, and I can't help but wonder why you didn't bring it up directly."
"Would you have believed me?" Before Director Piggot could defend herself, Taylor carried on. "If the Butcher showed up, told you that one of the Wards caused her trigger event, and then asked to join? How do you think that would have gone down?"
"I take your point, Bumble," Piggot said. "Although in the future, I hope you can address your concerns through proper channels."
God what a fuckin' stiff, the original Butcher griped. This kind of shit is why I started the teeth in the first place.
"I thought it would be better optics if I wasn't the one to directly launch the investigation," Taylor replied, with a shrug. "An independent investigation into potential misconduct by a probationary Ward is a very different thing than an investigation opened up by complaints from a new Ward with questionable sanity against the only Black person in the local Protectorate."
"That's a rather cynical way to think about things," Piggot said, her voice unreadable.
"I'd like to think I have enough experience to justify being a little cynical," Taylor said, in an extremely dry tone.
The director gave her a brief nod of acknowledgement, then leaned forward a little in her chair, interlacing her fingers on her desk. "I'll be blunt, then. What do you want to happen to Shadow Stalker?"
Damn, she's really just going for it, Sepsis said.
She's a bitch for sure, but she's got a spine of iron, Howitzer said. I recognize her type, the stubborn motherfucker. You could hit her with a pain blast at full power and she'd bite her tongue off before giving you the satisfaction of a scream.
"I didn't think that would be up to me," Taylor said, raising one eyebrow and trying not to think of the memories that Howitzer's comment had conjured up.
"It isn't. That being said, we both know that if you'd wanted Stalker dead or hurt you could have done it at any time. Plenty of capes would do that to the people responsible for their trigger events, and that's before they inherited a legacy of murder."
Taylor adjusted herself in the seat. "What Sophia did to me was fucked up, but I've got memories of doing things so much worse in my head. It puts things in perspective, I guess. To answer your question, Director, I want Sophia to get help."
"That's a shockingly mature attitude," Piggot responded, with a tone of voice that said she did not believe Taylor's claim at all.
It's a weak ass attitude is what it is, Howitzer grumbled. You could have just killed those bitches and been done with all this bullshit.
Oh yes, I'm sure the PRT would just love it if the new Butcher killed their precious Ward, Hazard said, sarcasm heavy in his voice. I'm sure that would have caused no issues at all down the line.
I mean, we're more than capable of making it look like an accident, especially with Taylor's own abilities, Basilisk mused. I know that's not our usual style, but a bit of poison delivered by a flying insect and boom, problem solved.
Taylor shoved away the voices advocating for murdering her bullies, which was the majority of the collective, with a harder shove than she'd normally use—she wanted to be sure that she was truly herself for this conversation, without the bleed through from the murderers in her head. It had been one of the larger points of contention between her and the Butchers, right along with going back to the Teeth and her choice to join the Wards. Most of them had violently killed those responsible for their triggers, if possible, and the collective held what was very much a 'dismembered corpse for an eye' attitude toward revenge. The worst part, truly, was just how appealing that mindset truly was, because she'd seen what could happen if you left an enemy alive—several of the other Butchers had learned that abject lesson at the hands of their successor. But she needed to be more than the Butcher, and that meant mercy even—or especially—when it was personally difficult.
Taylor gathered her thoughts, made harder by having to split her focus to keep most of the voices quiet, and then quietly said, "Sophia Hess is a sadistic bully who delights in others' suffering, but she's not a monster. Not quite yet. She'd be a prime candidate for the Teeth, and I can see how easy it would be to make her into someone truly unforgivable, but I've also seen her track record as a vigilante and a Ward. She's been a genuine force of good for the city and for the victims of violent crime—at least when she can get past her stupid 'survivors and prey' philosophy." Taylor had worked herself up into a proper speech, now. "What she needs, what she's needed for years, is proper support and counseling to deal with her trigger trauma and an environment where she actually faces real consequences for her actions. That isn't Winslow, and that isn't Brockton Bay."
"It occurs to me that juvenile detention might serve those goals," Piggot commented. That prompted a flood of memories from the collective, ranging from relatively clean facilities that were only a bit stricter than a boarding school, to filthy hallways and dingy cells where fights broke out several times a day and only the strongest made it out unharmed, if only physically. She flinched, just a little, and did her best to hide her reaction.
Taylor shrugged. "It might, or it might reinforce her beliefs. Depends on the center, I guess. I will say that five of the Butchers spent some time in juvie when they were growing up, and three of them ended up joining the Teeth as soon as they got out because of it. Make of that what you will."
"What would you suggest, then?" Piggot's tone was soft and dangerous.
"Transfer her to another department, away from a gang that would kill her just for the color of her skin. I've heard that containment for Madison or Ellisburg is a popular punishment detail," Taylor replied, holding the woman's gaze. "Either way, though, get her a dedicated therapist—and not that stupid therapist rotation nonsense, someone that can actually connect with her. Put her in an environment where she feels like she can make a difference, but that actually holds her accountable for her words and actions. Remove her from the influences that have been enabling the worst of her behavior." Unspoken, but clearly something both of them knew, was that Brockton Bay desperately needed every heroic cape they could get, and trading Hess to another department might get them a replacement Ward or Protectorate member.
"That feels like a lot of accommodation for someone in clear violation of her probation," the Director said. "If she didn't have powers, she would have been in juvie already. I'm not convinced I should be giving her special treatment just for being a cape."
"In fairness, it's the same as what I want for the other two girls who led my bullying as well," Taylor said, and then she sighed and leaned back in her chair. "On one hand, I do want to see them punished. There's a part of me—and it's not a small part, Director—that wants to drop Hess down the darkest pit I can find and lock her away forever. There's another fourteen parts of me that are uncomfortably familiar with murder and make it sound really appealing, despite my best efforts. On the other hand, Hess' actions were enabled by a systemic failure of her home life, the school system, and the PRT's oversight, and just throwing her away and tossing out the key is uncomfortably close to absolving those mistakes for my liking. And, as a final point: Sophia isn't a true monster, not yet, and I'd hate to see her become one—especially when we both know what at true monster in capable of."
The Director went rigid. It was a low blow, perhaps, but Taylor's insects had picked up references to Ellisburg before and she'd gone digging. None of the former Butchers had been part of the initial raid, since few enough were heroes, but Director Piggot had some small amount of notoriety as one of only two unpowered people that survived that fiasco, and reading even the heavily redacted file on the incident that she had access to as a Ward was a harrowing experience. Still, Taylor had said what she needed to say, and she relaxed her hold on the voices.
Just like I've always said, Howitzer was saying. Woman's got a spine of steel.
How can you tell, when it's hidden under so many layers of lar— Devein said, and then got slammed into the swarm with extreme prejudice.
Serves him right, the asshole, Basilisk commented.
That's a little hypocritical, coming from the guy who melted someone's face off with tinkertech super acid, Frenzy said, sounding unimpressed.
Oh, like you're any better? Basilisk bit back. You liked to rage-blast couples until they fought to the death and made bets on who would survive,
Boys, boys, you're both pretty, Wendigo cut in. Let's just accept that you're both assholes, and that Devein is somehow an even bigger asshole than anyone else.
Bold words from the face eater, Novocain said, although there was a teasing note in his voice.
The argument carried on from there, but Taylor tuned it out as Piggot started to speak again. "You've made your point, Bumble. I'll take your advice under consideration. Now get the fuck out of my office."
"Ma'am," Taylor said, standing and giving the woman with a polite nod. Some of the Butchers were clamoring at the woman's language, but Taylor didn't mind it that much—it didn't feel like an insult, as much as a more honest reflection of herself than the Director would normally show to a Ward. She walked out of the room even as Director Piggot was picking up the phone and starting to make a call.
Gabe was waiting there, casually leaning against the wall. "Hey, Bumble. Things go alright?"
"I'm not sure," she replied, honestly. "Better than they could have gone, that's for sure."
He gave a quiet chuckle. "That's all you can really hope for, in the end."
She gave him a weary smile, the kind that she wouldn't ever let herself show in public when she had to keep up her Bumble persona. "I guess it is, yeah." She liked Gabe, she thought to herself (and the fourteen eavesdroppers who she couldn't really avoid). Gabe was good people. It was so easy for parahumans to fall into playing the grand game of capes and forget that unpowered people mattered just as much. That was a trap that plenty of the Butchers had fallen into, before and after their inheritance, and Taylor wanted to make damn sure she didn't let herself go down that road as well. "So, how's it going with Paula? Got anything special planned for Valentine's day?"
Gabe gave her a wry grin. "I've got a few ideas," he said, as he started to lead her back down to the Wards' quarters. "There's this fancy Italian place that recently opened near Lord's Market that she's been wanting to go to for a while, but it's been booked out for six months straight. Thing is, I may or may not know one of the chefs, and they may or may not owe me a bit of a favor, y'know?"
Taylor nodded, her smile more genuine this time. It was good to remember what the heroes were trying to protect, after all.
a/n: I'm well aware that people might not like how I'm handling Sophia here, but at the end of the day she's a fifteen year old Black girl growing up in the neonazi capital of America with a whole host of unresolved anger and trauma, who has also been systemically failed and enabled by Winslow and the PRT. Also, keep in mind that Taylor is on relatively good terms with several mass murderers that live literally rent free in her head, and almost all of whom have perpetrated far worse crimes than anything Sophia has done to Taylor, which has definitely colored her opinions. It's not so much about forgiveness for her as it is about perspective and not letting another angry teenager fall down the path that so many of the other Butchers travelled, and perhaps an overcompensation against her inherited impulses to just kill everyone who's ever slighted her.
Thank you to everyone who reached out to me during all the drama last week. I'm not going to comment more on what happened, since I've already said what I wanted to say, but I did want to quickly express my gratitude for those who showed their support for me and the story.