Ablutions complete and dressed for school I stumbled down to the kitchen and made a cup of instant, almost palatable, coffee. Dad had been gone an hour already, made his way down to the docks and his job as head of hiring. There was a note on the fridge from yesterday telling me he was going to be late, he was always late, maybe I should get it laminated.
There was at least one positive from the nightmare, real fear was barely registering any more. Emma, Madison and Sophia, all the little and not so little jibes and insults had completely stopped effecting me. Which was good, if it weren't for them seemingly to have a perverse desire to see me react. The last month had been particularly bad. The daily shoves, insults and generally being treated like a chew toy had reached a point where I had just had enough.
I was scared about what I was about to do. I will admit to not really being able to think straight due to the sleep deprivation. All I knew was that I had had enough.
The doors to Winslow opened and eyes found me, most just saw a victim. One or two just turned back to what they were doing. For others, their eyes dropped to phones, fingers danced, buttons clacked, and digital invective declared my existence. Voices muttered as I passed, some new combination of syllables orchestrated to illicit pain.
I made my way to my locker, the corridor a chequerboard of cliques. This corner devoted to those ever so slightly too-blonde. That gap underneath the stairs a gathering of Asiatic brethren. The rest took what places they could, the jocks, the goths, the freaks, and the weirdos. They all had their own little patch.
Of course, then there was them. Those three. Emma, the sexy little rich girl, all pretty lies and faux innocence. Madison, the social butterfly, outgoing and included in all the greater cliques. Sophia, the brute, jocks wanted to be her, everyone wanted to do her until they actually talked to her then they just wanted her to leave them the fuck alone.
The three moved like sharks.
"Oh hey Tay-tay. You made it."
Emma. No, not her. Not yet. Madison, not worth my anger.
Sophia first. Head down, act as you usually do.
Keep your hands in your hoodie.
"Seriously, Taylor. Spent time with the Merchants much?"
Madison. Use the anger. Don't let it out … yet.
"Huh, why you even bother coming. Bitch."
Sophia, imagine her calling me a fucking bitch.
She shoved me backwards into the door of my locker and made to turn away. I would remember the look of shock on her face for the rest of my life as the knuckle-duster connected with her jaw. I heard the crack as it broke, and her head whipped back. She stumbled and fell to one knee, her head turned back to me slowly enough that it gave me just enough time to pop her again this time connecting with her cheekbone. This time the crack came from my broken knuckles.
Still, the bitch was out cold and the other two were backing up.
"Oh hello, Emma. Hello, Madison. Please don't run. I'll go easy on you if you don't run."
They obviously ran. Which is just what I wanted the fuckers to do. The other kids had run off and gone to fetch teachers and the security guard. Which left me alone in a deserted corridor with an unconscious Sophia.
Ah, bliss.
"Hello there Sophia. You took my sister, the one thing that I loved. Only seems fair I do the same to you."
I knelt astride her leg and pulled with all my strength until there was a grisly pop as I dislocated her knee and even unconscious Sophia's body flinched with the pain. I was still punching the bitches shattered knee when the guard and teachers pulled me off her.
Rebecca Costa-BrownA ward getting beaten up in their civilian identity wasn't something that usually merited her attention. The ward being part of the Brockton Bay experiment was just another data point. The statement taken from the attacker had been what drew her focus and Contessa's reaction to said statement was enough to actually get her complete attention.
It was two days after the incident with Shadow Stalker, the girl's attacker had been placed into custody at a small secure facility.
The father and daughter had been given NDA's and their lawyer had been read in on the nature of the incident being of national security. It wasn't the best approach but getting them to understand how important the situation was, was paramount. A PRT lawyer had given the Hebert's one a long national security breakdown. No specifics just that the nature of the situation was more complex than either the girls or her father knew. It would give her some leeway with explaining the situation to the girl.
Currently, she was stood outside a spartan interview room staring through a one-way screen at the rooms sole occupant who had managed to take down one of the local PRT's most 'effective' capes.
She pushed the intercom button and the girl twitched, "Ms. Hebert, how are you feeling?"
Taylor raised her head and looked at the mirror she was behind, "Not bad, could be worse. Not sorry about Sophia. Wish I'd done it months ago. I was fresh out of fucks to give."
"How aware are you of the situation?"
"Depends, haven't been arrested or read my rights. So, not arrested, maybe?"
"No, at present you are being held for questioning?"
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/DisabledMeansHelplessWords(1000), Has a passive effect, given that Taylor is sat across from Alexandria. She starts wondering why she would make a good pirate, complete with eye-patch.
"As I am not a parahuman … I … I can only assume my being held by the PRT is due to parahuman involvement. The only other victim in all this was Sophia. Ergo, Sophia is a parahuman. Shadow Stalker if I was to guess."
The girl shook her head and looked back at herself in the mirror. "Sorry, haven't been sleeping well for the last few months. I could be wrong, or I could just be imagining all this, and I'll wake up feeling embarrassed at thinking of something so stupid. I mean, Sophia, a fucking hero? Yeah. Right."
Costa-Brown asked, "That's just one part of the reason for the interview, the main reason is your dream. Would you mind telling me about it?", Whilst internally also quietly trying to figure out how to shit-can the Hess girl as quickly as possible.
"What's to tell? As long as your not that bitch with the fucking fedora."
I nodded to the guard and made my way to the door and was buzzed into the interview room.
"Hello, Taylor. I'm Chief Director Costa-Brown."
"Oh shit-fuck. Shit, sorry, Er, hello … er … ma'am?"
"That's quite alright, it's not the worst reaction I've had."
The girl intertwined her fingers into her hair before rubbing her face. Taking a deep breath she started in again.
"Okay, ma'am. How can I help the PRT?"
"I wanted to know about your dream?"
"Ugh, that. Sorry, I've been nightmaring about that fucking bitch for about three months. Last month or so pretty much non-stop. I've probably slept maybe an hour solid, maybe eight hours a whole week. Really don't know how I'm still fucking functional. Sorry. Don't swear at the Chief Director, Taylor."
"It's okay Ms. Hebert. I've also heard worse."
"Well, sorry anyway. Must be the fucking docks coming out of me."
"The dream, Ms. Hebert."
The girl sighed and took a deep breath, "Oh, right. It's me, at least I think it's me. Same body, same hair anyway. It's quiet, too quiet. Empty place. I'm missing an arm, no idea how. Practically naked, clothes torn, ripped, burnt." The girl shivered, "One second I'm alone, then … then she's there. Mid-grey trench coat, short heels. Pencil line black stockings, dark grey skirt, knee-length. Pale blue-grey eyes and perched on her head a short brimmed red fedora with a brown headband."
Though she showed no external reaction even Rebecca mentally flinched a little at the description. As much as she admired Contessa and relied on her guidance the cape still made her shiver sometimes.
"Hat lady walks up behind me. We talk, I don't hear what's said just a that a few words are exchanged, then she pulls a small handgun. Put's it against the top of my head and then pop-pop." The girl slumps back in the chair.
"Have you met this woman before?"
"Fuck no, wouldn't want to meet her even once."
Coming to a decision about the situation was curiously hard for me. On one hand, secrecy. On the other, what Contessa had said about what Path to Victory had told her about the girl and Scion. She still couldn't path the thing but the event, as described by Ms. Hebert, was determined to happen after Scion's demise. They would be victorious, and the girl would be there to help.
"Well, as far as I can tell Ms. Hebert," How to phrase this. "The PRT deals with threats of various sizes. Beasts like Lung, monsters like Jack Slash and global threats like the Endbringer's. There are also much more insidious threats, Masters and Strangers. We even have extensive protocols to deal with them. Unfortunately, those protocols are not perfect."
The girl looked scared, "You think I might have been mastered."
"It's a definite possibility. I can't say a lot about why we have taken an interest for security reasons, its the reason you and your father were asked to sign NDA's. This woman you dreamed of is known to the PRT. However, her existence is only known to a select few. The dream you had of her could help bring her to justice." Doctor Mother and the others could complain all they wanted.
"But, I was told I wasn't a parahuman. Panacea, said so. No, brain thingy."
"No corona or gemma?"
"No, I don't have either."
"It's rare, exceedingly so, but there are instances where parahuman abilities appear, but the brain structure does not."
"This dream then, it could be my power? Would I have to join the Wards?"
No, I'm never letting someone with any knowledge of Cauldron anywhere near the PRT.
"Like I said, unlikely but the dream could also have been caused by another parahuman, possibly even unintentionally. Isn't it more likely that this other parahuman is targeting someone close to a civilian they thought was Shadow Stalker. If they made the assumption that a particular black girl that looks and acts similar enough to the ward in question then targets a girl close to her, you in this instance, with dreams to lower her faculties until you lash out at the random black girl."
She knew it was a stretch, but she could see the girl beginning to think it was possible, parahuman abilities could do some very strange things.
"That's insane, why jump through so many fucking hoops?"
"Parahumans, they thrive on conflict and this may be the only way for our unknown cape to effect the situation. Not everyone can punch their problems away and no matter how convoluted it may appear to you or I, for a parahuman with the correct power this may well have been trivially easy to orchestrate."
The girl still looked confused, and honestly she looked like she could do with a good couple of weeks rest. But, I could see the wheels turning. She was almost there, she almost believed.
"What about … them? They've been fucking with me for months?"
"I can't fix everything, Ms Hebert. What you've told the PRT makes it a civil matter. The information will be passed on and acted upon."
"Don't care really. Just want out of that shithole."
"Now that I can do something about."
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/AcmeProductsWords(2000), She finally gets a roll that comes with actual gadgets, woohoo. Cape persona for the win. Captain Paranoia for the loss.
ArcadiaIt had been a strange couple of weeks since the incident with Sophia. The investigation into the mess at Winslow had been ongoing and the local news and PHO had exploded after the embezzlement had been uncovered. Half the teachers had been less than quietly let go and barred from working with kids every again. Gladly, well he was looking at a very hard time in prison for what he had been doing with some of the kids.
Dad, hadn't been happy with me at all. The only thing that stopped him going fucking nuclear was the transfer to Arcadia arranged by the PRT.
Blackwell was looking at Federal level charges and the school had a new budget tied directly to mandated anti-bullying scheme that they would lose if any occurred.
I was honestly just happy to have moved on from the place. One advantage with how much media attention my old school was getting was that no-one even bothered asking me about why I had moved schools at around the same time. Hell, Arcadia had an influx of some of the more well off families getting out while the getting was good.
Which was useful for me for one very good reason, I was a cape. Which after my conversation with the Chief Director was very confusing. Add on the insanity of the power I had been given just made me even more thankful to the woman for getting me out of that shithole.
It came with a long list of blueprints, though why it was obsessed with birdseed I just piled on top of the power being weird. Rocket cars, bombs, more jets than you could shake a lightning bold at, because of course my power gave me free lightning bolts.
Note to self, never drop one again. Loud, exceedingly so.
I mean I could have literally gone the whole angry god on Winslow, but I chose not to. I was better than that, than them and everyone else at that shit-hole of a school. If I had to describe my power in one word, it would be flexibility. Honestly, the less said about some of the more lethal options I could summon and send back to wherever they came from is a good thing. The blueprints say that the bomb is nuclear. Yeah, never summoning that, ever.
Some of the pills sounded useful, who wouldn't want super speed and super strength. I could not figure out the what and why behind the earthquake and tornado pills, but the infinite supply of anvils was going to be useful for making a little money. Each one would go for about two hundred dollars second hand and the scrap metal merchants would take them at a scrap weight of just over a dollar a pound so sixty each. I ended up selling six and getting another six scrapped which left me with about fifteen hundred dollars.
I would be helping dad out by slipping the odd twenty into his wallet now and then. The rest was stored under my bedside table.
It was one of the most innocuous looking items from the set of blueprints that actually caught my eye, The Paintbrush, and yes it did deserve the double capitalization. This thing rapidly became my favourite simply because of all the reality defying fuckery that it allowed me to do.
I need a door through this wall. Paint one, open it, walk through. It took a while but the artwork eventually faded depending on how detailed the work was, a crude door a few minutes. A detailed drawing of a tunnel could last as much as fifteen, but the art usually faded after about seven.
I wasn't sure what to do with my powers. I supposed that I should become a hero, but just the thought of that nightmare future where the woman in the hat killed me made me want something different.
Approaching the PRT seemed like the best thing to do, and if the worst came to the worst I could reach out to the Chief Director for help. She seemed like a nice woman and with all the help she had given me with Winslow I was at least willing to give the local branch a chance.
Which was why I had found a functional telephone at one the far end of the boardwalk past all the high-end boutiques and much closer to the old fish market. I had stood looking at the phone handset hanging from the front of the thing for a good few minutes before shaking my head, dropping a quarter and dialling the PRT's number.
"Hello, Brockton Bay PRT, Alice speaking how can I help?"
"H-hi, I … I'm a … sorry."
"It's okay, sweetie take your time."
"I'm a parahuman, but I don't know what to do?"
"Oh, that's fine. Just to let you know all calls are recorded, is that okay sweetie?"
"Yeah, just … I don't want to fight … I just want to help."
"Can you tell me anything about your power?"
"It's just weird. I can summon things. Objects, machines, tools."
"It sounds like you're a tinker."
"N-no, I can't make them or something, just summon."
"A projection, do they fade over time?"
"Some of the things I do with them do, but the summoned things don't."
"That sounds really useful. How do you want to help the PRT?"
"I can summon pills. One kind gives super strength another super speed. I can do others but they are just weird. I'd like to send some to you."
"That would be excellent and just for our records what cape name would like to use."
"I suppose Mace will do."
I hung up the phone after the PRT representative had given me a code number to attach to the package I sent. I figured they would mainly want the strength and speed pills, but I added the other ones just for completeness. Marking each one with a warning saying that they hadn't been tested. Though what they would be used for was beyond me, who'd actually want to cause and earthquake or tornado. The amounts I got were ridiculous. Each one I summoned had like a thousand of each.
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/MultiarmedMultitaskingWords(3000), Its active, but passive only when she needs it. A lot of these passives are going to hit her simultaneously causing a bit of character development.
I packaged them all up, I didn't know how many they might need, so I just popped four plastic baggies with twenty each of the various pills into the package. I dropped it off at a postal office on the way to school the next day.
It was still a bit of a head fuck for me, Arcadia I was going to Arcadia, it was honestly more of a head fuck than being a parahuman. Though from what everyone was saying I wasn't one really, which was another reason for my avoiding the whole parahuman scene like the plague.
Honestly, I was just happy to be getting some peace and quiet after Winslow.
TestingArmsmaster sat in the control room overlooking the testing chamber. One half was dedicated to the group of scientists that had been convened to study the effects of the pills supplied by the new cape Mace. The entire biotinker testing complex was both heavily sanitized and under constant surveillance by both local personnel through the cameras sat in every corner and Dragon herself was observing over a secure connection to her base of operation. Each and every pill had been catalogued and accounted for and only two of each of those supplied had been dispensed.
Behind a hermetically secure door sat the local bays premier healer, Panacea.
She watched as a liquid feeder was attached to each of the three small cages that contained the test animals, rats. She really hoped nothing happened to them, humanity might make her want to commit crimes against them, but animals were much easier to understand. Eat, sleep, fuck, shit.
Actually, humans were similar they just gussied it up and called it culture.
Watching the rats drinking the doped water was fascinating. The first, which from her notes said it had been dosed with speed seemed to become a blur as it ran around the little enclosure for a few seconds before it slowed down again. This pattern repeated every time the animal drank some of the liquid.
The other, it had drunk some water doped with the strength pill and quickly bent the bars of its cage and in the brief period of super strength before it wore off and was found scratching at the door to the testing chamber.
"Well," Panacea muttered, "Colour me impressed."
"Are you willing to examine the test animals?"
"Yeah, no problem. Looks like it's a short term boost not a permanent increase. How much was the pill diluted?"
Armsmaster quietly tapped away at the handheld PRT branded digital pad while he answered. "One pill per litre. We included some basic electrolytes after initial testing showed rapid blood sugar loss. Our assumption was the speed pill accelerated the metabolism. The strength pill seems to have an effect similar to hysterical strength."
The heavy door that separated them from the testing chamber opened, and two rats carried in small pet hampers were brought into the room.
Making a few chucking noises Panacea poked her finger through the bars of the cage, the rat touched her finger and fell asleep. "He'll wake up in about an hour. This one I'm guessing was given the speed pill. I'm seeing micro-fractures in its bones and some odd sugar based chemicals in collecting along nerve sheath and neural tissue. Nothing dangerous and it should void the rest in a day or so." Putting it down she did the same with the other rat. "Okay, similar sugar based chemicals in the liver. I'm also seeing traces of them in the muscles. Similarly, they'll be voided naturally by the body in a couple of days."
"Recommendation?" Armsmaster asked.
"Given the nature of the chemicals left after use. I would avoid giving them to anyone with a family history of diabetes. Other than that I'd be interested in observing the other tests."
She had worked with him long enough to know when his head tilted that way there was an unfortunate piece of information coming her way.
"The results of other tests were, interesting."
"That's never a good sign. What happened?"
"Mace supplied us with two further pill types. Earthquake and Tornado. The results were as I say, interesting."
"I know you, Armsmaster. Anytime you say 'interesting' in that way twice it usually means someone had to clean up something very messy. What happened and how bad was it?"
"The earthquake rat experienced a terminal amount of vibration. The tornado rat experienced a terminal amount of angular momentum."
"So, shaken to death and spun to death. Nice."
"The sensors in the room detected a thermal pulse. We believe the quake rat boiled itself alive."
"Yeah, just going to say it. Ew, must have made a mess."
"Indeed. On a more promising note, the drugs appear to designed to work together well. Combining strength and speed pills alongside a dose of electrolytes appears to produce an effect at least partially similar to Velocity's breaker state without the drawbacks. Director Piggott is in the process of negotiating with the wards parents and PRT-HQ to allow him to take part in later trials."
Panacea sat back and thought about it, minor superpowers in a pill. That was going to shake things up when everyone found out about them. It did give her ideas though, could she copy the same effect give someone a minor brute rating in pill form. Even a minor regeneration pill would be manageable, and it would give her a chance to get a break from all the time she was spending at the damn hospital.
"Is the cape a new ward?"
"No, an independent. We are endeavouring to ensure both their safety and at the same time making overtures towards joining the wards."
"Well, I hope they join. For their own safety and for the chance to collaborate with them on pills that could do other things."
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ThirtySuePileupWords(4000), Various Alt|Taylors from other works turn up and cause a little chaos in the bay, dealt with off-screen
DannyWalking from his drafty office and making his was to his pickup he wondered where everything had gone wrong. Who was he kidding, he knew exactly where it had gone wrong. Annette.
Everything had been so easy with her. Living, loving, laughing. Like one of those obnoxiously tasteless signs people would plaster their walls with. As if just being reminded of it was enough to make it true. He remembered the first time they had seen one of the things in one of the knick-knack shops just off the boardwalk. They had all laughed, Annette had just been incensed at the shallowness of the thing. He and Taylor had just been confused, surely no-one needed to be reminded how much they loved someone.
He hadn't, at least not then, now … now he thought it might be a good idea to buy one. He certainly couldn't feel anything any more. When was the last time he felt love towards anyone, it was even hard to love Taylor. Laughter, god that must have been since … since Annette.
And as for living, hah. What a joke. He pulled to a stop by the gate to the docks and waited for the traffic to ease so he could pull out and start his way home. Honestly he really couldn't see the point.
Taylor, he was doing all this for Taylor.
He might not be a functional human being or a parent, but he could put food on the table and keep her fed. It might not mean much in the grand scheme of things but right here, and now it was all he could manage. His hands gripped the wheel as his knuckles turned white as he was sitting there eyes fixed looking forward, seeing nothing. A fly buzzed across his vision and another bumped into his face, one hand lifted to waft the things away. His attention brought back into focus he watched them haphazardly fly out of the cabin.
His sighed and pulled out into the empty road and made his way home. He saw a tall figure in green power armour walking towards him into the docks. What he didn't see was the way the intimidating capes helmet followed him briefly before it raised its arm while it and an almost emaciated cape surrounded by a swarm of bugs vanished through a pink portal.
There was a group of gawking tourists at the end of the Boardwalk, he didn't know precisely what it was all about, but he caught a reptilian head standing a good foot above the crowd with what looked like a confused expression on its face.
The rest of the trip home was much less eventful.
TaylorThe last few days had been weird, well weirder. There had been this undeniable sense that someone was watching her. She supposed it was to be expected after realizing she was a parahuman. The knowledge she had superpowers and being paranoid some member of the local gangs would realize and force her to join scared her. What scared her more was that they might use her father to persuade her, or worse.
It was for that reason and absolutely no other reason whatsoever that made her react the way she did. Dad had just walked through the door and found himself dealing with a bundle of clingy mid-teenage stress and tears. All of it made worse by being unable to explain it her dad.
After all of that happened she found herself in a much better place and surfed PHO for a while. The half dozen random private messages that had been sent to her were deleted automatically. After everything the bitches three had done to her, it had become pretty much a standard thing for her to do. Whoever, BugsyMcBugface, Girlslayer69 and Lizardsalltheway were she didn't care, she had more important things to think about than some random bullies trying to get to her.
Like what was she going to do with her power. Or, and she really had to wonder now, did she have multiple powers? She remembered the dream, of that creepy woman killing her, then she got all those weird blueprints, and she hadn't noticed anything else.
There was that moment, which had been very strange, she really needed a thesaurus to look up more words for strange with regards her power. She resolutely promised herself to never use the word 'eldritch' while even thinking about her powers.
Bugger.
Anyway, the thought had been stuck in her head that Alexandria of all people would look better wearing an eye patch. Maybe go the full pirate look and captain a sailing ship on the high seas though why she would and why it was stuck in her head was another for the pile of nonsense her life was now.
There was at least one thing that helped, she had taken to using the bus network to travel around the Bay's many parks and had taken to using the birdseed her power supplied her with to feed the city's feathered residents. She felt like a bird version of the Merchants, the stuff was like a drug. Even after just a few days doing so great flocks of the things would congregate as soon as she wandered into each park. She cast the seed over a wide area and the ravenous airborne horde descended and made short work of every single seed.
It was funny watching their little heads bobbing up and down, the constant cooing and the occasional squabble over resources. Quickly solved by scattering another handful of seed.
As much fun as it was to watch the birds it was just as much fun to watch the people. The young lovers laying out in the middle of the park taking shelter under the arms of a spreading oak tree lost in each other. The older couples that she saw walking slowly around as equally lost in each other as the young couple. It wasn't all innocent, she caught gang tags hastily drawn on benches, a tattooed youth eyed a gathering of elderly Asians performing tai-chi.
It was things like that that drew her ire. She wondered how she could get everyone to just work together.
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/LesCollaborateursWords(5000), Taylor becomes the perfect choice for infiltrating / actually working with any enemy team
LisaThe Boss had really set her on a wild goose chase this time, or maybe it was a wild pigeon chase as the girl he asked her to look into seemingly spent her spare time just pottering around the city feeding the pigeons. And that was on a day when the girl even bothered leaving the house.
[Is relaxed for a parahuman]
[Is very relaxed for a human]
[Calm not power related]
[Long term depression eased]
The only wrinkle she found was the bag the girl carried.
[Bag is full][Bag is empty]
[Bag is being used to hide a parahuman effect]
[Birdseed projection][Birdseed not projection]
[Birdseed perfect food for birds]
As a power, it was an odd one. Why make perfect birdseed? What were the combat applications to having … her brain froze for a second and looked around. The birds, there were hundreds of them, and in a city like Brockton there were likely millions of the things. She remembered a remake of an imported aleph movie. In the original, The Birds, had just started behaving bizarrely, in the remake a rogue bird controller was using her power to get revenge on the family of the corporation responsible for murdering her brother. All very contrived but looking around the gathered pigeons pecking at the ground, eating what the girl, no the cape, was scattering it made a disturbing amount of sense.
Like that urban legend that all birds were fake and used by the government to spy on people. Insane, yes. But when you looked around at how insane some powers were. Insanity actually made an awful lot of sense for an awful lot of powers.
It was the rest of the information that her power gave about the girl that made her pause.
[Girl has seen her own death]
[Girl needs to help the disabled]
[Girl can break reality]
[Girl can multitask multiple tasks perfectly]
[Girl has alternate reality versions of herself][Girl has no alternate reality versions of herself]
[Girl is willing to infiltrate a gang in order to subvert it]
There was another one it was almost as if it was greyed out ready to trigger that made her pause and wonder what the hell the girls power was playing at.
[Girl is the perfect patsy]
It was almost like her power didn't like her and wanted to get her killed or at least push her into greater conflict. Which wasn't that weird, powers needed to be used, everyone knew that. What was terrifying was she had seen the first three after Coil had set her to investigate and the last three had appeared in the week that she had been watching the girl. She was an escalating trump, someone that the gangs in the Bay would do anything to get their hands on and even the white-hats would bend the rules to get on their side.
She suspected Coil had methods of extracting information from her without her knowledge. The exact mechanism, she didn't know. She just hoped it would be later rather than sooner.
Coil – Timeline A – Safe for WorkWhile he had confidence in Ms Wilbourn's abilities he would be lax in his attempted coercion of the chemical tinker that had been brought to the PRT's attention and through his many backdoors into their system, his own.
The pills she had provided speed, strength, earthquake and tornado had been fascinating to watch undergo testing. He would say many negative things about Armsmaster, but rigorous devotion to the scientific method was one of the positives. The results spoke for themselves, Velocity, hampered by his ability to interact while in his breaker state had found the speed and strength pills easy to integrate into his power expression. Almost as if they had been tailor-made to suit him. Adding a minor brute factor to the other wards and protectorate heroes also meant treating them as an escalating threat.
All this really meant was that he would have to expend some alternate timelines to investigate the cape.
Coil – Timeline A.A – Not Safe for WorkThe drugged abduction and rendition of the girl, one Taylor Hebert being the non-cape persona of the cape, Mace. It had begun so perfectly. She was pliant, even understanding of his needs and goals, it was almost tempting to not use the stick. Sadly, he had learned that parahumans required the stick. For his first attempt he sequestered the girls abusers, Emma Barnes, Madison Clemens and the ward Shadow Stalker. He had filed that titbit away for the future. Threatening the trio was met with honest pleas that they be let go until he revealed the Hess girls ward identity, it was definitely then that things began to spiral.
The girl summoned some of her pills, which was something he noted in his safe timeline, proceeded to eat several of the speed and strength pills and a single solitary tornado pill. The resultant dervish of destruction tore through his base and personnel in seconds.
He dropped the timeline.
Coil – Timeline A.B – Not Safe for WorkHis second attempt went as the first, the girl was once again perfectly willing to work with him. Only his previous attempt let him see how she was simply playing for time before she escaped. Though this timelines wrinkle was the abduction of the girls father.
Once again the summoning of pills, the triggering of an almost but not quite breaker state. This time she simply broke own the bunkers doors and extracted every person both within and without. She emptied the place in seconds. The last thing he remembered from that timeline was himself bound and gagged to what he suspected was a nuclear bomb, whilst surrounded by half a dozen others.
The timeline ended.
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/DetectivePatsyWords(6000), Taylor will tend to be the victim of police stings and gangs arranging a sting to find an informant.
Coil – Timeline A.B – Not Safe for WorkHis third attempt was much more successful; he had his Tattletale make an approach to the young parahuman in an attempt to lure the girl into a proxy relationship through the Undersides.
The girl treated them well and even wanted to help clear their names and make his team into something a little more heroic. Which was honestly quite an impressive feat of morals, whatever caused the girl to trigger it must have left her with a strong sense of right and wrong which was far more troubling for him. His Tattletale had made sure to reiterate that she was extremely well-adjusted for a recent trigger.
He collapsed the timeline, he would have to obtain a sample of the girls pills legitimately and hope Dr Pitter would be able to reverse engineer the compounds within them.
Still, while Ms Hebert was a bust he had high hopes that the Alcott girl would be much easier to procure and manipulate.
TaylorSitting in class at Arcadia was a study in contrast with her time at Winslow. The desks weren't scrawled over with grammatically and anatomically incorrect pen marks. They were separated into widely spaced rows and columns. The teachers were even nice, and her grades had steadily risen in the month since her transfer. The fact that they didn't play favourites, even Panacea, Amelia Dallon was occasionally called out for her behaviour was more proof than any other.
So, there she sat happier than she had been for years and all it took was becoming a parahuman. At least that's what she thought she was. It wasn't anything she could put a finger on or any one thing at all. It just made the most sense out of what was happening.
The Chief Director herself taking an interest in her dream was one aspect.
The blond girl she had seen for a few days in a row. But, strangely the girl always seemed to be waiting for her wherever she went as if she knew where she was before she even went there.
What else did she know about her power?
If the dream was when she got her powers then she had had them for months before she received the one that gave her all the blueprints and crazy technology. But that one had arrived weeks ago. If her theory was correct she had gained that one after her interview with Director Costs-Brown.
Now that made things even more complex.
Was she copying other capes powers?
Did that mean the director was a cape?
Everyone knew the PRT was supposed to be the good guys and the Director was supposedly not a parahuman.
But that kernel of paranoia that had been built by the trio couldn't let go of the possibility that maybe there was more to the woman's involvement in her case than what she had said.
And that, that opened up a whole other can of worms.
First of all she needed to do a lot more research on the capes in the Bay. The big players were easy, The ABB, Lung and Oni Lee, one could turn into what was to all intent and purposes a dragon. The other the suicide bomber to end all others. The cape could leave a short-lived duplicate of himself, and more importantly his current loadout complete with grenades, knives and anything else the lunatic was carrying.
The Empire, a bunch of nazi-jerks that should have been stood against a wall and shot sometime in the 1950's. Their leader, Kaiser, though PHO often called him Archduke to provoke his faithful. A metallokinetic, capable of crafting steel armour from any metal near him.
His second in command Victor was a skill thief that could drain a person's abilities in combat, prolonged exposure was supposed to wholly steal the victims' skill leaving them a mindless husk. The only reason the man wasn't the owner of a kill order was his own restraint, though there were rumours that he had used the ability as a form of punishment within the Empire.
Kreig, Hookwolf, Cricket. The Empires enforcers.
And then there was Othala, the reason that many thought that the Empire was even tolerated. Her ability, the power to endow others with abilities, amongst which was a form of healing based on limited regeneration. Her inclusion in Endbringer events was considered to be responsible for almost a full five percent increase in the survival rate.
Panacea herself was responsible for a further ten percent on her own.
All of these were underpinned by the Merchants, more a movement than a gang proper. Skidmark and Squealer, a cape able to lay down acceleration fields and a vehicle tinker that both synergized with each other. That they led a debauched horde of drug and drink fuelled lunatics. Their section of the city's underworld was actually less chaotic than it appeared due to Skidmark's two tenets, 'Sellers don't use. Users don't make good lieutenants'
Whilst he and Squealer concentrated on trafficking their merchandise and apparently living a toxic codependent relationship that many saw as little better than psychosexual abuse.
How they transported the literal tonnage of drugs into and out of the Bay was a mystery, though most supposed it was using some creation of Squealers.
They also, along with the other larger gangs in the Bay, fought to maintain the status quo. Three slices of a pie were better than four.
The other gangs or groups were all small enough to survive but not big enough to challenge the big three. The only two real oddities were Faultlines Crew, a mercenary group that used the Bay as base of operations. And then there was New Wave, two families of open capes that had their own tragic backstory.
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/EvilWearsBlackWords(7000), If you can't figure out how the next bit connects to this …
Scion[ERROR]
[CORRUPTION]
[REBOOTING]
[CALIBRATING]
[STATE: NOMINAL]
CauldronThe meeting was solemn, the Triumvirate sat opposite and alongside the group's leadership, both powered and unpowered. The large screen showed Scion as he was until 48 hours earlier. A golden man of immaculate perfection, all toned physique and representative of the human ideal.
Now, they looked at the second image, it was difficult to make out his features at all, his body a black absolute, his outline cutting a hole in the image, in reality, a featureless negative space apart from twin specks of god where his eyes once sat.
They had all read the files. They all knew what Scion actually was and what he represented, cataclysm, apocalypse, an end to the human race across a limn of the multiverse.
Cauldron sat silent.
Contessa spoke, "The path has not changed. Scion is not yet a danger."
Even Alexandria felt her tension eased, her gloves creaked with the release of unknown pressure.
It was Kurt, The Number Man, who spoke next, "Constants aren't, Variables don't."
Doctor Mother growled out, "Explain?"
"The Variables, our actions have not changed. The mathematical constants have. Pi, at some point within the infinite regression of digits has changed. The imaginary numbers are no longer quite so imaginary. The physics of the universe still works; it is just slightly different now to what it was before."
Alexandria glanced up at the screen, at the cutout that once shone like a false idol and wondered why it was easier to see the thing as a monster now its form shadowed its intent.
It was a consultant, he whispered it quietly, but she caught enough to parse what the man said.
"At least now we know he's evil. After all, bad guys always wear black."
PHO meltdownAN: Not that bothered about formatting this properly
SpecPROTOCOL
WTFWTF Scion black now WTFWTF
WhiteWarrior
yeh nah bruh
edit: FRFR dudes black
BrocktownBoy
Racist shits gonna get it
zxCowboyVoidxz
TM:[Really void, not cool. Take a 30 day ban for hate speech]
Bagrat
My sources inside the PRT are all over this so I can give a pretty good timeline of events.
They want to reiterate, Scion's behaviour has not altered. The reason for the colour change is not known and Thinker assets are still assessing. Thinker blind spot around Scion still in effect.
The following is a timeline of events from the site sciontracker.org
UTC Date (20xx:xx:xx) all timestamps UTC
(05:37) Scion, restores building damages by flood. Dragožani, North Macedonia.
(05:44) Scion, leaves on heading 304° at .075 Mach.
(05:45) Scion, stops.
(05:45) Scion, experiences colour shift.
(05:46) Scion, continues on heading 304° at .075 Mach.
I want to restate want all my sources have told me about the situation, Scion has only changed colour and there have been no other observable changes to his behaviour.
DicDacDoe
This is just fucking weird dude.
TheDude007
Hey, just thinking, maybe next time he'll be pink.
WhatAbout030799
Just fucking weird. But why though?
TaylorThe next few days at Arcadia were pretty much consumed by the discussion of what the hell happened to Scion. Even the teachers were joining in, and no learning was had. It was fun though, everyone had an opinion and no one knew if it was right, the discussions were passionate as different camps came up with different theories.
Most thought it was a reaction to some other parahuman attacking him. A couple of black students thought it meant he was calling out the Empire. Most of the blond and blue-eyed students called bullshit. In general people were quietly freaking out, Scion had been a stabilizing influence on cape affairs. He might not say anything but heroic capes tried to follow his example.
A few even added discrete black armbands to their costumes to show their continuing support of the First Hero. Others went the other way and took to adding a golden element to what they were wearing. It was fascinating to see how the cape community was seemingly polarized by a simple colour change. Heroes Wear Black and Villains Wear Gold started trending on PHO and other social media sites.
For me, it was a little more exciting because I had received my first cheque from the PRT for my pills that came in at $1,000, that one I asked for in cash. They included a request for a further shipment of fifty each of the strength and speed with another fifty split between the other two. In total the PRT was giving me $75,000 dollars for each shipment. I felt a bit strange taking advantage of them, but I wanted the heroes to be safer and stronger and this seemed like the easiest way.
It was still ridiculously easy money and whilst it was going to be hard to explain to dad I still wanted to keep the money safe and after a bit of online searching I found out about a super villain called Number Man. He was a part of the villain group called The Elite and worked as their banker, but he also offered his services to other villains and even the heroes. The best part, his accounts were anonymous, you could purchase a deposit card from most retailers. They cost a hundred dollars, and you could use them as both temporary or permanent deposit accounts. You didn't get anything like the interest you would get on a standard account. But you weren't paying for that, you were paying for the anonymity.
I had enough to buy one and I planned to deposit the cheque at a bank as soon as I had a costume ready.
Which was why after school let out I called dad at work and told him I was going down to the Boardwalk to do a little clothes shopping. My clothes budget had plummeted since not having to deal with the trio's predations, but I was feeling better about myself and wanted my clothes to present that change and the thousand dollars in my pocket helped.
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/MinorityPoliceOfficerWords(8000), Okay, a minority police officers in a city with super-powered racists. What do you think was going to happen?
It was the middle of the week and the place was a little quieter than usual. The enforcers were out and gave me the eye until I had made my first purchases. It's hard to look sneaky when you're carrying half a dozen bags of shopping. The clothes were a mixture of stuff, some for my own wardrobe, mostly casual, but I spotted a nice black suit with red edging that caught my eye for a costume. Most of the rest was just casual wear and a few pairs of shoes.
I did get a few looks with the amount I was buying. I just explained it away as it being a treat from my father after a small lottery win. They seemed to buy it. I had managed to drag myself to a bus stop when I heard sirens coming from the far end of the boardwalk. The crowd moved, and I spotted a few of the enforcers shifting position. The BBPD arrived and started cordoning off that area as well.
I was worried about getting involved, so I got onto the bus as soon as it arrived and got away from whatever was unfolding.
Detective BurkeIt wasn't easy dealing with this kind of call. How it happened was the depressingly easy part to understand in the Bay. Some hopped up racist teen full of testosterone, adrenaline and not a little booze had been screaming at passersby heading onto the Boardwalk. Officers Lakely and Dominez had been called to defuse the situation and the end result was two LEO's down.
Where the nazi-fuck had found the gun he didn't care. The little shit was spouting bullshit about how Kaiser would come down and save him. Rescue him from the nigger collaborators, that he would be lionized as a true empire believer. Poor schmuck, Kaiser cared less about people like him than the black's and hispanics. He had seen the case file on the idiot that had done for the New Wave cape Fleur. The only thing they were given was fingers and the little fuckers face. Everything else had been turned into ground beef likely by the gangs enforcer, Hookwolf.
No charges, no investigation, no comment.
The area had good surveillance, shops had already handed over footage from their CCTV, it was a slam dunk. All he had to do was get the fucker arrested without a terminal case of either resisting arrest or the old fall down a long flight of stairs.
TaylorThe bus trip home was passed by an awful lot of police heading back towards the Boardwalk. I really hoped nothing bad happened to anyone. Getting the shopping haul home from the nearest stop was exhausting and made my fingers go to sleep. The lights were on and dad was watching the news about some incident, I saw a short clip of the boardwalk and a detective giving an interview with a grim look on his face. The ticker underneath said two officers had been shot by a teenager not a hundred feet from where I had been.
Dad glanced at me and all the shopping and his expression shifted slowly from empty to concerned.
"Were you … were you nearby?"
"Um, yeah. I didn't hear anything. Just the cops swarming the area."
His eyes looked into mine and there was a moment where I thought he would let it go but his expression turned into a grimace of pain. "I … god Taylor."
"What's up dad?"
"I could have lost you just like … "
"It's okay dad. I'm okay. Nothing happened to me."
His arms grabbed me. "No, no, no. It's not … nothing's okay, nothing."
"I'm fine dad, everything's fine."
He pushed me back to arms length and frowned at me. "Not you … not this. It's me. I'm not okay. I … I'm a mess, Taylor. We're a mess." I couldn't really argue about that.
"Yeah, no. I suppose."
He pulled me close again, "I'm a fucking mess, Taylor."
"It's … "
"Its been three years Taylor. We should have got help sooner. I should have got help sooner."
"Well, we couldn't really afford to-"
Dad squeezed me in a desperate grip, "Shouldn't fucking matter … I …"
My arms reached around and held my dad. It felt strange, I didn't know what to do. So, I just held him. I had known we were a mess, I suppose me and dad had just come to accept it as the norm.
We were a mess and there was nothing we could do about it without getting help.
"I … I could help out a little." I offered. "With money at least. Get a part-time job or something?"
"No, Taylor. It's my job to provide."
I didn't like saying this but, "And how well have you been providing. Money wasn't everything I needed dad. I needed you."
Dad didn't say much to that just kind of held me.
"Add on all the shit I was dealing with at school," I hadn't meant to say it, but it slipped out.
"What about school, Taylor?" Dad pulled back to look at me.
"It's been, well, shit. Since I started at Winslow to be honest."
His moist eyes looked at me, probably for the first time properly since mom.
"What is … was happening ?"
"It's … I was being bullied."
"Didn't the school do anything?"
"Some days, they're the ones bullying me."
"Shit. Who?"
"Who wasn't is easier to list. The teachers, the admin staff just shredded any complaints I made, pretty much the only people who don't are the janitors."
"What about, Emma. Surely she's there, she can help, can't she?"
I took a deep breath, "She's the worst. She started it, she keeps using everything she knows about me … about mom to keep twisting the knife."
I saw how it affected him, it broke him just a little bit more. Alan and he had been friends since college. Zoe, his wife, had named their first daughter Anne after my mom.
"How … how could she?"
"I don't know dad, I really don't have a shadow of a clue."
The rest of the night had been a combination of painful revelations and holding each other while we cried. I couldn't tell you when we went to bed that night just that we were all cried out by the time we did.
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/SetPiecePuzzleWords(9000), After every major event canon or otherwise, Taylor receives a puzzle to complete each one based on the source material. Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver included lots of puzzles based on pushing and rolling blocks. Prize, The Soul Reaver / Raziel
Waking up the next day was just another layer of fuckery piled on top of everything form the night before. Apparently, my power whatever it actually was, had decided to gift me a pile of sixteen large stone blocks only these were stone and ridiculously heavy, to the point where I could just to say lift them, but it was easier just to drag them around or roll them over.
I had just managed to dump them in the cellar before dad came downstairs. I would spend the weekend trying to figure out what the hell they were all about, but first I needed to make sure my dad was okay.
Neither of us had slept that well, but we slept better than we had in a long time. Dad was a bit tousled, and my hair was sticking up to one side. We looked rough, but we could both see that the other was at least there for them.
"So, dad. About what we talked about last night?"
"That … doesn't really narrow it down, kiddo."
"About money?"
"Oh yeah. I'm still not happy with it."
"I heard about a couple of jobs, nothing permanent, and it would be paid in cash. It's just to cover some food prep or pot-washing shifts downtown. The restaurants back onto each other and often share staff. I'd be on call, so it might mean running out on an evening or afternoon. They pay me two hundred flat no matter how long I'm there and no tips."
Was I lying to dad? Yes. Did it feel bad after how honest we had just been? Also, yes.
"How long have you been doing this?"
"I haven't yet. Wanted to ask you first."
"I'll say yes. As long as your school work doesn't suffer. Getting that transfer to Arcadia was an amazing bit of luck. Your … me and your mom wouldn't want you to waste that opportunity."
"They're always a bit short, so I should get at least one shift a week. How about I give you a hundred dollars for the first shift then fifty for any others?"
"Hmm, okay. Just don't get taken advantage of. Those kinds of places expect you to work and be thankful for whatever money you get. Hell, your mom got fired from a mom-and-pop place because she called them out on their bullshit."
"It'll be okay dad."
"Hmm, sure you don't want me to ask around about them."
"No. I promise the instant anything like that happens I'll quit."
"Okay, I suppose I can't stop you."
Dad grumbled a bit more, but he had to get to work and I had to get to school. The whole day all I could think about were the blocks in the cellar and waiting for the weekend was interminable. Thankfully nothing else weird happened, and I managed to get through the day at school. Friday evening was usually dad's turn to cook, and he produced one of his standby's, lasagna. Neither, I nor mom had ever figured out how he made it taste so good.
SaturdaySaturday morning usually meant dad popping down to the union for the morning to get some weekly paperwork done and it gave me a chance to figure out what was going on with the blocks in the cellar. They were made of what felt like sandstone but was much more resilient to damage. The face of each cube had part of an engraving. I had grabbed some printer paper my desk upstairs and a couple of crayons to make a rubbing of each face.
One showed an imposing, almost regal face, his lip curled back to reveal pronounced fangs. The second showed what could have been tentacles if you squinted. The third showed a sword with a blade that was shaped like a series of waves or ripples, its pommel had a skull. The other ones just had random runes carved on them. I arranged them on the floor to show each full picture and neither the face or the tentacles seemed to do anything, likewise the runes. The sword though, that seemed to get a reaction. The blocks were actually kind of sticking together when I tried that one. Nothing happened until I got the idea that they needed to be piled up to make a wall. The things were a good foot across and weighed a ton, at least to me they did.
After twenty minutes of effort I lifted the final cube into place and the wall of cubes emitted a what sounded like a quiet wail of agony as the stones fused fully together before crumbling apart to leave a sword that looked exactly like that from the carving hovering in mid-air.
I grabbed the handle and the thing instantly dropped to the floor.
Fuck was this heavy.
Using my other hand I managed to hold it out. I could feel the thing in my hands. It was kind of tingly. There was definitely something flowing out of it. The sensation waned, and I felt a pulse of acceptance from the thing.
Was I creeped out by the thing most certainly. The fact it took that exact moment to gently pulse with humour.
"Are you laughing?"
I got sent a feeling of truth before it settled down to an almost relaxed state. It felt expectant, as if it was waiting for something.
"I know you're a sword, but what the fuck. Better yet how the fuck do you work?"
It sent a sense of hunger followed by that same tingly pulse of energy into my hands.
"I use you and that feeds me what … energy?"
This time I got a sense of regret.
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/FinaleProductionUpgradeWords(10000), One of the many passives that are going to be earned. At the end of the story a Taylor has to perform a musical number.
I thought about the carvings on the blocks and the distinctively vampiric looking man that had been carved into it surface. "Are you a vampiric blade? That is so fucked up. Do you … do you need to kill to survive?"
A sense of endlessness pervaded me, but it was followed by a feeling of deep hunger.
"You don't need to, but you want to. It's what you were made for."
A sense of truth pulsed again.
"Do you have a name?"
A sense of confusion and loss.
"You've forgotten. Sorry."
A sense of acceptance.
"Not calling you Swordy McSwordface that'd be stupid."
Once again there was the gentle pulse of humour.
"I'll have to hide you, but I'll come and talk to you sometimes. I know how bad being alone actually is."
Another pulse of acceptance and the blade presence quietened. I tucked it into the old coal chute and gently tapped the pommel before blocking off the thing to hide him.
Taking a step back after pushing boxes in front of the chute I shook my head at the level of weirdness that I just experienced. All I needed now was a lady, a lake and I could be the King of the Britons. I quietly thanked mom for making me sit through those particular aleph imports.
Madness, my power was definitely fuelled by madness. How was any of that related to the pills? It made no fucking sense. I sighed as I looked down at myself.
"Shower first. Existential angst later."
The long shower helped. Afterwards I just bumbled around the house for the morning thinking and occasionally talking to myself. It's only crazy if you're doing it in public, Taylor.
I popped a speed and strength pill and cleaned the house in a few seconds before popping downstairs and letting the sword know I would be going out for a while. I was going shopping, and it was for the one thing that I knew would stress dad out the most, a phone. If for nothing else it allowed me to keep in contact and occupy myself when I got bored, the half-dozen burner phones I purchased were for contacting the PRT and the BBPD when I eventually went out as a proper cape.
On this satuday afternoon the Boardwalk was much more hectic and I caught the Wards patrolling and doing publicity. Today it was Clockblocker and Vista who were both doing the parahuman equivalent of a juggling bit. He was using his power to make twenty tennis balls hover in mid-air, it was an impressive sign of his reaction speed as the didn't stay locked for a set amount of time. Vista was just using space distortion fuckery to have the three balls she had just follow a path in the air that her power had constructed. It seemed almost effortless for the young Ward and made me wonder just what else she could do if she pushed her power.
I had my new personal phone and I would be coming back in costume to buy some burners later in the week. It felt nice to treat myself. I still had a few hundred left after my earlier shopping spree and helping dad out a little. The money from the PRT was already a good chunk of a college fund and that was before I sent any more pills to them.
I wandered along and inbetween all the big name boutiques there were a few open air bars, a restaurant that overlooked the Bay towards the PRT's Rig while avoiding the boat graveyard. I hadn't really had anything to eat apart from a cereal bar from a vending machine. I sat at a table at the edge of the seating and a young waitress that might have been a little older than me, popped over.
"Can I take your order, miss?" Her lapel badge said Diana and she looked a little frazzled.
"Just a small pot of tea and if possible a pot of hot water as well in a few minutes."
"That'll be three dollars. Anything to eat?"
"Bring the menu, I'll think about it while I have the tea."
"Okay," she scribbled on a pad and wandered back into the restaurant then came back with a pot of hot water, "Any preference?"
"Is that chamomile?"
"Yes."
"That'll do then." I passed her a five dollar bill and told her to keep the change. I also asked, "You look run off your feet."
"Yeah, new girl quit and mom press-ganged me to help out. College and this place don't go well together."
"Are you busy now?" I looked around and there weren't any customers outside with us.
"No, not at the moment. Mom's just a bit much, between you and me, she's the reason people quit most of the time."
"Ah," I was a bit hesitant, "Errm, fancy taking a break. Share a pot of tea?"
She took a deep breath and let it out through pursed lips. "Yeah, fuck it. Mom can't fire me."
The teenager slumped into the chair opposite with a brief mutter about her feet. She pointed at the badge and asked, "You know my name, what's yours?"
"Taylor."
"Hi, Taylor." She kicked off a shoe and started rubbing her ankle and quietly said, "I'm only nineteen and this is already killing my feet." Before continuing with, "Sorry, shouldn't grumble. Mom does at least pay me."
"It's okay. My mom always said that the service industry could be just as tough as any other industry."
"Yeah," she took a long sip of tea, "Oh. I didn't know how much I needed that."
I caught sight of a woman stood at the entrance of the restaurant. "I think your mom wants you."
"Shit, scale of 1 to 10, how pissed does she look?"
I glanced again, "Dunno, I'd say about a 3."
She relaxed, "Ah well, any more than five, and I'd go help straight away. Any thoughts on food?"
I had checked the menu briefly, but only one thing had really caught my eye, "The BLT Melt sounds nice."
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/HandyMouthWords(11000), A bizarre one, she is much more dextrous with her mouth than she used to be. Question is how is she going to figure that out?
"Yeah, we get some regulars that go for that. Fancy a side order?"
"Just fries would do."
"That'll be fourteen dollars." I passed her fifteen and she tucked it into her apron before popping her shoe back into the restaurant. She returned a few minutes later with my dish and the extra pot of hot water.
We chatted a little and I found out she was majoring in biology with a minor in parahuman studies. She had grown up living next door to a Case 53 called Sphinx whose features had taken on a distinctly leonine appearance and it had triggered a lifelong dream of understanding and helping them integrate into society.
We had been chatting, honestly it was the most I had talked to anyone for such a long time, it was nice just to have the moment. Her mother poked her head out of the restaurant door again.
"Ah just so you know. Your mom's at about 6."
"Ugh, suppose I should get back to it. This was nice. Just wish you were a bigger tipper."
"Hey, I'm not made of money. Least not yet anyway."
"Joking. Maybe catch-up with you later?"
"Yeah, I might pop back for something when I'm passing."
"Cool, catch-a-later-gater."
I watched her go back inside with the dirty pots and promised myself that she was the kind of person I wanted to help with my powers.
Getting home was just a bus ride and a half block trudge with my shopping. I put the burner phones next to my sword … still weird thinking that. I made sure he, I'd finally figured I should ask and it was an actual he, however that worked. Power's are such bullshit.
Dad still wasn't back, which was kind of strange.
He usually got back by now.
There was a knock at the door and I caught a glimpse of blue before I opened it. The woman, the woman and the man and the other man. The first woman was standing to the left, I wondered why that was so important to think about. Thinking about that woman, she stood to the left of them, the other two. She looked nervous, her face was nice, kind of jolly, like you would think Mrs Santa Claus would look. Not like the other two, no. I couldn't see their faces, just hers.
The other two were blurred, blue. They were holding something blue as well. I don't know why I couldn't see them clearly.
She cleared her throat, "Ms Hebert, Taylor Anne Hebert."
"Yes, do you want my dad? He's down at the docks, he's head of hiring. Daniel Hebert."
"No, but it is about him," she glanced at the blurs, "can we come in?"
"Dad said to say no. What's … What's it all about?"
"Miss Hebert, there was an incident." the middle blue spoke, it sounded masculine.
I still couldn't see them properly, they were still blurred. I blinked a few times, nope still not seeing them. I saw a van pull into the curb behind them. It was green, the green that PRT vans were. It wasn't that though, it couldn't be that green. It didn't have the PRT logo on the side, there was a blur though, so I couldn't be sure.
The quiet blue talked, that one was feminine as well, "Can we come inside. Please, Ms Hebert. We don't want to have this conversation out here."
The other blur, this one was green, it had a splash of colour on its face. Red white and blue, oh it's the American flag. That means it's Miss Militia, funny. Why is she blurred as well?
"Ms Hebert, we really would like to come in?"
She had such a warm voice. Dad would be so jealous when he found out she came to our house and he wasn't here to meet her.
"Yes, that's not a problem. Miss Militia."
The male blur stood outside as the nice lady with the nice face and Miss Militia sat opposite me on the sofa where I was sitting in dad's chair. I'd apologize to dad later.
The female blue blur stood by the front door.
I don't know what to do.
"Would you like some tea?" I asked.
"No," Ms Militia blur looked at the nice lady that wasn't blurred at all. "We need to talk to you about what happened in the docks earlier today. It involved your father."
Nice lady asked, "I understand your mother passed away some years ago."
"Yes, road accident. Drunk driver hit her, what happened to my dad?"
Ms Militia cleared her throat, "It's why I'm here." She sighed, she really did have a nice voice, "A group of Empire affiliated gang members confronted the Merchants close to the docks. The Parahuman members of each gang escalated the conflict. Skidmark, Squealer and Quag, a new mud based Case 53 squared off against the Empire capes Hookwolf, Stormtiger and Cricket. There was a rolling battle that ran alongside the Dock Worker's Union. It still isn't clear exactly what happened at this point. Skidmark faced off against Hookwolf, he was pushed back against the DWU building and destroyed a large section and several vehicles."
The cape paused, "The section destroyed included your father's office. I'm so so sorry."
I could feel something happening to my eyes, it was a painful, wet agony. Each tear tore out of my eyes. My hand touched my face, terrified that they were bleeding, no just tears. The ache in my chest, the spike of pain between my eyes as I slammed them closed. No, it couldn't be true. It's a horrible lie, these monsters are some twisted mockery of reality and when I open my eyes they'll be gone and dad will still be alive.
My sight returned, I saw the policewoman first. Stood by the door, face a rictus of pity.
The woman with the saintly face, hers was grim. I could see the lack of professional detachment.
Miss Militia, Her eyes really were very brown and full of a deep well of compassion.
I don't really remember much after that. I remember crying. I remember the police leaving. I remember the nice lady with the gentle face saying something about being made a ward of the state. The pain was there, a tight ball that made it hard to breathe.
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TheWatsonWords(12000), Taylor will often shift into the role of the other characters foils, asking questions about plot etc.
The next morning I awoke to a house, not a home. The police officers had kept watch and every time I had heard them moving round I thought dad had come back. It was torture. My throat was sore, my eyes rheumy and yet also full of sandy grit. I didn't know what to do. There was a knock at the door and the same woman stood there. The officers excused themselves with a quiet goodbye. Her eyes looked dark, had she slept, had I slept. I didn't know. I didn't know anything. What to do? What to do?
"Hello, Taylor. Do you remember my name?"
"No, I … no."
"Its Mrs Daykin, Molly. You can call me either."
"Th-thank you Mrs Daykin. I … what happens now?"
"First we have to make sure your somewhere safe, then we start to make things better for you. It's not going to be all good or all bad. All I ask is that you give it time and patience. The pain never really goes away you just learn to live with it."
"Thank you. For being honest."
"It's something too many people forget at a time like this. Honesty is better than a million false promises."
"It was the same with … mom. Why do people do that?"
"They're uncomfortable talking about things like this. Death is the great taboo. I do a little grief counselling, and I've had old men break down about the death of their dog more than the death of a wife. Grief, it hits everyone differently every time it happens."
"I … what next."
"Next, we get you packed up. A few changes of clothes and underwear. After that we need to get you somewhere safe and supervised. Kind of like a halfway house until your settled and can start making decisions about what happens next."
"What about dad, the funeral? Isn't there a lot of legal stuff to sort out?"
"Yes, but we can get started on that tomorrow. Today is all about making sure you're safe."
"Oh, okay."
She walked me out of the house and into her car, the driver was a thin and tall black man who I caught glancing at me in the rearview mirror as we drove. I watched the city flow by as we passed people living their lives. It was all so fragile. An accident here and you were gone. A cape battle, it was more like a force of nature there wasn't anything to do but hunker down and hope it passed you by unscathed.
The car pulled into a downtown parking garage opposite a building site. Mrs Daykin got out with a smile to me and told me to wait there while she talked to the driver, Mr Calvert.
SaturdayI woke up feeling a bit clingy. Dad usually went to the DWU on a Saturday morning, but he decided to have a proper weekend. Money wasn't as tight with the little I was able to funnel to him from my account. As the weather was fine we decided to have a grill out in the backyard. We made short work of cleaning the grate and dragging the charcoal out of the shed.
We didn't have enough to fuel the grill or any of the fixings so we locked up and headed to the little bodega two blocks over. Given the weather we walked and talked about what we would be grilling. Dad bought two bags of charcoal and carried those while I carried the meat and fixings. Burger patties and pork ribs with assorted veggies that would cook well under the hood.
The trek back just about busted my arms and dad was getting a little red around the collar. While he showered I got the grill started after I filled it with coals. Once I had showered as well we started in on cooking the things we had bought. We chowed down on the beef patties while the veg and ribs roasted over the coals.
Dad pulled out a couple of beers and much to my surprise offered me one. It was cold, it didn't really taste of anything but the fizz was nice, and it left me feeling relaxed in a warm kind of way. We chatted about nothing and everything. About mom, about school, about the docks. It was nice, it was the best it had been between us for a long time. We slowly made our way through the food on the grill. Some just got packaged up for later but most of it would get eaten. We both went inside and dad turned on some charity match of baseball between the Boston Blue Sox and their hometown PRT.
It was ridiculous, Legend kept missing bases by flying over the pitcher until Alexandria of all people decided to park herself above the mound and just glare at him until he stopped. The PRT won, but only by a couple of runs and dad dozed off on the couch after a couple more beers.
I took the opportunity to pop downstairs into the cellar. I had had a look at them briefly the night before and each of the six faces seemed to depict something different. A face, a weird tentacle thing and a sword. The other three faces were covered in writing that I hadn't a clue how to interpret.
I wasn't sure about the face, it did have very long fangs. Tentacles, never a good sign especially after that time I read some Lovecraft. I piled up the stones, man were they heavy, so that the picture of the sword was revealed. The gaps between the stones disappeared and with a strangled scream the blocks vanished leaving a sword hanging in mid-air.
I grabbed the handle and the thing instantly dropped to the floor.
Fuck was this heavy.
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/PuzzleBossWords(13000), gift after defeating a powerful enemy boss, occasionally dream of fighting a random video game boss
Using my other hand I managed to hold it out. It felt like I was holding a living thing. There was definitely something flowing out of it. The sensation waned, and it was replaced by a feeling of confusion then anger. It was not a pleasant sensation.
"Are ... is there someone in there?"
There was a pulse of affirmation, followed by yet more rage.
"Why are you angry?"
The sensation of confusion returned. Followed by pulses of conflicting feelings, lies then truth, honesty then deceit, future then past.
"What happened?"
I staggered at the feeling. An existence ending, my own.
"I died?"
A sense of complication then truth.
"Someone, kind of killed me?"
Affirmation.
"That doesn't make any fucking sense. How? Was it someone wearing a red hat?"
Confusion. Negation.
"That was a stupid question, Taylor. Okay. Let's see if we can figure it out. Did you see there face?"
Affirmation.
"Were they male?"
Affirmation.
"Were they white?"
Negation.
"Were they asian?"
Negation.
"Were they black?"
Affirmation.
"Okay that narrows it down a lot. Not the Empire or ABB, possibly the Merchants. Was he scruffy looking?"
Negation.
"Okay, that narrows it down to any cape who we don't know the race of or is black. What was his name, damn. Actually, was he muscular?"
Negation.
"Okay, that leaves what's his face. Dude with the … with the twin snakes."
Confusion.
"Please don't be that dumb, please. Twin snakes, twin paths, two lifelines."
Astonishment. Affirmation.
"Fucking thought so. I'm guessing you remember because of some power fuckery?"
Affirmation. Admonishment.
"Yeah yeah, you grow up hanging out with dockworkers and try keeping a civil tongue."
Understanding.
"Thanks. The better question is how do we deal with him."
BLOODLUST.
"Okay, let's call that option: Fuck Coil. Okay?"
Affirmation.
"He must have tried abducting me and something went wrong. Actually, if I spammed the pills. Yeah, that would probably do it."
Uncertainty.
"Right, you have my permission to fuck Coil up if he ever makes a move on me again, deal?"
Affirmation.
"Actually, never mind. Better idea."
Confusion.
"If that fucker uses his power at all you have my permission to fuck him up, deal?"
Affirmation. Joy.
"Yeah, thought so."
CoilIt was the smell of the thing that stuck with him, death. Not the fresh smell of recent death, that metallic tang of blood in the air. It was that old ancient smell of mouldering cellars and decay. The wraith walked amongst his men killing with a casual grace, pulling forms that echoed their shape from their bodies. The faint disembodied screams painful in a way that no other sound had ever caused.
"Please I beg you let me leave. I'll never hurt her again."
He begged as the wraith dragged him deeper into his lair. Cast into his playground, that place where he toyed with his people and made examples of those who betrayed him. The room echoed to the whispers of pain, anger and grief. A gesture pulled a chill mist from the floor, another called up memories. Memories of pain, and death.
They gathered about him, shambling, ethereal.
"My masters will be done. A pity you have but one life to take."
TaylorI woke up on the Sunday to a foul taste in my mouth, and I wasn't sure where it came from. Dad was sleeping in as well. I made breakfast for myself and started a pot of coffee. I popped down into the cellar quickly. It felt much warmer than I was used to, and I was confused until I touched the sword.
Contentment.
"So, I'm guessing Mr Coil is dealt with?"
Affirmation.
"Is it wrong to be happy he's dead?"
Uncertainty.
"Is it possible to connect you to the crime?"
Uncertainty. Possibility.
"Welp, we'll have to deal with that when it happens?"
Self Sacrifice. Martyrdom.
"Yeah, I can see them wanting to destroy you, or at least lock you away somewhere."
The warmth that I had felt before vanished, my breath plumed in front of me and I felt a presence behind me, I turned and held the blade between us, the man backed away from the blade. The blade that felt lighter than a feather.
"Please, the blade should be kept away from me, my lady."
"Who …" I looked down at the blade, "You're him."
The man bent down on one knee, "Raziel, once paladin of Nosgoth, once plaything of fate."
His face was harsh, but handsome in a brutal way. It wasn't a face built for smiling that's for sure.
"How are you here?"
"I cannot manifest long in this plane. The walls are both thicker and yet much more easily breached. I would require sustenance to do so again."
"What kind of sustenance?"
"My existence upon the ethereal plane, it requires sustenance of a similar nature. This physical form has physical … needs. I assume you understand what I would need to consume."
I felt ill, "Is that what you did to Coil?"
"Yes, my lady. Feel no qualms or guilt at the man's demise. He was a petty little monster, but a monster all the same. His goals for you would have been … uncouth and utterly depraved."
I shook a little at what he said, "Th-thank you."
"My pleasure, my lady. I will return to my slumber, this existence is taxing in ways difficult to express. By your leave?"
"Er, yes. Thank you."
The man smiled at me before the blade once again felt heavy in my hand.
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/VehicleTitleWords(14000), Get a random vehicle from fiction, Red Dwarf. Becomes owner director of JMC, the ship is currently 15 million lightyears away
I felt a restful peace and acceptance. It hurt in a way, but a good one. Like after mom, the depth of my grief marked the depth of my love for her.
The blade pulsed in warm recognition before falling quiescent. I hid it, hid Raziel, again and tidied up a little. Going back upstairs was a bizarre contrast. The smell of coffee and the lingering smell of bacon dragged me back into the here and now with all the other strangeness I was beginning to accept that whatever form my power actually took there was some guiding principle behind them.
I was just sat thinking when dad bumbled into the kitchen. He looked a little worse for wear and his hair stuck up on one side.
"Hey kiddo. Seen any head-ache pills recently?"
"Top shelf of the big cupboard."
"Oh, yeah right. Forgot, thanks kiddo."
"Dad, I'm a-" my chance to start explaining about being a parahuman were disturbed by a knock at the door.
"Just a second. I'll get that."
Dad wandered through the house and opened the door to the visitor. I didn't hear what was said before the door closed, and he returned with a bemused look on his face.
"Well, that was weird. Nice guy though, then again he was English, sounded like one of the Beatles. Here, it's for you." Dad passed the package across. It looked a bit dog-eared, though maybe cat's had something to do with it given the distinctly feline odour coming off the thing. There was a big stamp covering our address. The centre looked like some mountains with an arc over the top. Underneath was the text JMC ID Postal Services.
Cutting through the cardboard revealed two folders, the first had the same logo but with JMC Corporate. It contained a load of documents that made even less sense, so I passed it to dad to start flicking through. The other had JMC Mining Corp on the cover with an outline drawing of a ship called Red Dwarf. I had just started reading when dad caught my attention.
"Er, Taylor. Do you want to tell me something?"
"Um, why?"
"Well, this is apparently the financials for a company. Jupiter Mining Corporation."
"So that's what JMC stands for."
Dad just turned the book towards me and showed me all the many, many zeroes on the companies balance sheet. "Apparently, the company is housed at this address, and you are the managing director."
"B-B-whah … what the fuck?" I wasn't really sure what else to say but tell the truth. "I … I think I'm a parahuman."
"So, your powers randomly gave you so much money you could just buy most of the world. Actually, you could probably buy Aleph as well."
"Er … yeah and some other stuff. It's been a fucking rollercoaster that's for sure."
"What exactly have you got?"
"I think it started with a vision."
"What did you see?"
I still shivered about the memory, "It was me getting murdered, but more like an execution or … or an animal getting put down. I'd see it in my dreams usually. Not often, but enough, then it stared happening every night. I think I went a bit insane."