Worthy Opponents
The Second
It was raining out. Taylor didn't really care.
It was night out. She didn't really care about that either.
She penned a quick note in case her father came home before she did. Out running. Have spray.
She doubted he would. He'd thrown himself into work shortly after her mother's death. With the troubles in Asia, shipping on the east coast had surged along with trade to and from Europe.
He had no end of work.
He also had no time for her.
She shut her eyes. Trying desperately to focus on the route she was mapping in her mind. Thinking… feeling… both hurt a lot these days.
Taylor put on a hoodie and pulled the hood over her head. She shut the door and locked it behind her.
Emma had finally given back her mother's flute.
She hadn't gone to class for the rest of the day. She simply sat in her room absolutely silent, desperately pretending the flute was still missing.
She hadn't realized how much she could hate someone she once called sister.
Taylor ran. It didn't matter that it was raining. It didn't matter that her clothes were soaking wet. It didn't matter that she nearly tripped over a parked bicycle. It didn't matter that she almost ran into the random passerby.
She just kept running. Her thoughts drifted back to better times. Times before she had to pretend to look forward to each coming day. Before she had to put on an act for her own father whenever he could be bothered to show up.
She even tried to reimagine her old fantasies of being like Alexandria. Flying high and fast and stopping the bad guys. She wanted someone to stop her villains-
'No. Stop thinking about it.'
She was on the home stretch back to her house. She nearly stumbled. She hadn't realized her pace or her location. Her breath was ragged, her clothes drenched. She wanted to get away. To not be in a house all by herself.
This wasn't working.
She pushed herself to run faster. She could handle another loop.
Taylor thought of her friend: A traitor. Of her dad: Nonexistent. Of her mom: Dead.
She squinted her eyes shut.
She wished she was stronger. Strong enough to have protected the flute. Strong enough to fight against her tormentors.
She wanted the flute back. She wanted her friend back. She wanted her mom back. She wanted the rain to stop making her-
-feel worse.
She didn't notice as water began to wrap around her body. She didn't notice her skin turn to leather or her mouth seal shut. She didn't notice her senses expand to all the water around her.
Taylor only noticed she started picking up speed. Her eyes widened drastically as she neared a small tree planted in the sidewalk. She changed her stance and planted her feet. She tried to stop her feet from moving and still went sliding a dozen meters. Her shoes were torn to pieces.
The tree trunk was crushed into pulp with an audible crack.
At least the sound of the tree hitting the ground was lost in the downpour.
'Wait… what?' She hadn't hit it. The water that had been on her body had kept moving forward. She had stopped.
She looked down at the broken remains of the tree and noticed scraps of cloth.
She looked down and tried to scream. She couldn't. Her clothes had been ripped off by the movement of the water, but that wasn't what she cared about.
She turned around and ran back to her home; realizing she had gone passed it by two houses. The door was locked. Her key had been in her pants pocket. Naked, she ran back out to the fallen tree and found the remains of her pants.
She fumbled with picking up the key; her fingers had turned to claws. She nearly heaved as the water on the street wrapped around the key and pulled it up to her palm.
She noted her own lack of sound and drew her claws over her face. She couldn't feel her lips.
She started crying.
She ran back to her front door, all the while desperately hoping no one would come and look out of a window. Once again the water around her reacted as she tried to open the lock. It pushed the key forward and turned.
Taylor shuddered as the key moved without her actually touching it.
She rushed inside and slammed the door behind her.
Only after flipping the locks again from the inside did she rush up to her room.
She looked toward the closet.
She thought it was a monster. It was hairless and naked, with its skin alternating between a blackish green leather and human skin. Elongated, uneven arms and clawed hands stretched out at its sides. A pair of twisted looking legs ended with massive claws extending out where toes should be. A tail as long it was tall stretched out behind it. A pair of eyes glowed green in an otherwise distorted face.
Her closet door was closed. She could see the mirror attached to it.
She tried to scream.
She still didn't have a mouth.
Taylor went to her toilet and sunk to her knees. She could feel her body try to vomit.
There she stayed; curled up on the floor as she wept.
Six Weeks Later
Taylor walked out of Winslow slowly. Her shoulder was pushed roughly by Sophia as the girl passed by, snickering at her. Taylor followed her tried and true tactic of staying silent and waiting for her tormentors to get bored.
Like always, Sophia grinned at Taylor's lack of response. Taylor didn't understand that girl. It was as if every time Taylor didn't fight back she had scored a victory. Perhaps that was her game? Push her into retaliating and be punished by the school. Or by Emma's dad. Something that would go on record. She managed to withhold a smirk at Sophia's back. 'I can outlast you.'
Taylor pushed thoughts of the trio out of her mind. There were more important things she was doing this weekend.
It had been a month and half since she had… changed. Triggered.
It had taken hours, well past midnight, before the changes had faded and she returned to her normal appearance.
Her dad still hadn't come home by the time she had turned back. She was both hateful and relieved at that. She couldn't believe that he hadn't been there to help her. But she was also glad. Glad that she didn't need to explain anything to him. Glad that he hadn't seen her in that state; physical and emotional.
It was the middle of the night by the time she had pulled herself together. Taylor had put on a new set of clothes and gone back into the raining night.
She had wanted to stay dry. She had. The water had warped itself away from her as she worked. She went out to the tree and picked up as much of her ruined clothing as she could before going back to her room and lying down in bed.
She hadn't slept that night.
But that had been then.
Now?
The tall girl smiled to herself. Now she had control. In the safety of her hoodies' front pocket she curled her fingers and the tips turned into black claws. The fingers slackened and the claws vanished.
She was a Changer. Or at least that's what PHO led Taylor to believe. 'I don't even need a costume. I can go and be a hero.' Maybe she'd even get lucky and meet Alexandria one day?
She would be going out tonight. Her father had left this morning for a weeklong meeting in New York with a freight company there.
It was the perfect time. 'Now or never, Taylor.' She told herself.
She made her way back home and made a small dinner. She turned on the television for something to listen to.
The news droned on about another parahuman conflict breaking out in Southeast Asia. Ignited by some warlord's power play against Futsunushi. Erawan, another powerful cape in the area, was taking advantage of the chaos. The Triumvirate and the Guild was expected to be sent soon to try and stabilize the region.
As she ate she looked over the maps of the city she had detailed and what little she had figured out about the gang territories.
If she had been honest with herself, Taylor would have admitted she had no idea where to start. She wanted to do something good for the city but criminals didn't operate in plain view of the public. Probably. Did capes do things differently?
'I'll just… go to the docks and look around. Gangs do deals at the docks at night. I think.'
She was clearly well prepared.
Taylor waited until well past nightfall before leaving her house. She put on her jogging outfit and carried her backpack with her so she would have a place to put her clothes when she transformed.
Taylor decided to follow her regular route at first and then set off towards the coastline. As she got closer Taylor changed her course and jogged down an alley. She ducked behind a garbage bin and took a look for security cameras. She removed her clothes quickly before stowing them in her backpack.
She felt herself stretch and distort. Her senses changed. Taste and smell were gone. Her hydroclairvoyance, limited in her human form, expanded to beyond the city.
She captured some of the water in the air and used it to create a suit around herself. She had learned that by manipulating water around her body she could make herself move even faster than usual in this form.
Taylor had picked apart the events of her trigger thoroughly. She was desperate to not accidentally damage her home the way she had that first tree.
With a leap and a push of her powers she jumped onto the roof far above her head. She rapidly made her way to the shorefront, bounding over rooftops as if she had done it for years.
It was exhilarating. It was as if she was free to do whatever she wanted.
As she reached the final building along the waterfront she shook her head. She had a job to do. She was going to be a hero. She reached out with her water sense as she looked along the darkened docks and piers.
Nothing.
She moved farther to the south. Nothing. She went back north and passed by her starting point.
'Ok. This- this is ok. I'll just go inland and find… find some criminals. Maybe the Empire.'
She took one last look at the docks before staring at the ocean. It was only then that she noticed something strange. It had been there, in her hydroclairvoyance, but she hadn't realized it was wrong until she looked at the gentle waves.
There was an area on the surface where the water wasn't moving normally. It was… pressing up against something. It wasn't the platform of the Protectorate HQ in the distance. It was an arched section of water but she couldn't see anything in the bay.
Was there another parahuman out there?
With a running jump she soared across the walkway below her and into the water. She dipped into the ocean with barely a splash.
Taylor relished the feeling of power and freedom she had in the open water. When she transformed it was like being able to walk after so long in a wheelchair. This? She couldn't even put words to this. Like a new aspect of the world opened up before her and she was its master.
Her head shook back and forth rapidly. 'No. No. Focus. Be a hero.'
She reached out with her powers and searched for the invisible disturbance in the water. There.
She moved rapidly under the surface to the disturbance. Now that she was closer, she could see the waves press up against a surface, but she still couldn't see anything.
She got even closer.
A pair of blinders was removed and she could see. It was an ugly, piecemeal ship. Its engine was loud, its hull was rusted, and it was filled with people just as grimy as the boat they were in.
How the hell had she not noticed… wait. Tinkers. Of course.
She had done her research on the local gangs. These were Merchants. Quite a few of them. What were they doing out here?
As if to answer one of the lower windows exploded outwards. There was shouting above and below deck.
One person's voice rose above the others. "Who did that!? Who! Did! That!? Somebody slap that bitch! God damn how much did we just lose!?"
Her green eyes narrowed. A floating meth lab. 'Scum.'
She hesitated for just a moment. She knew she was stronger in this form, but could it take gunfire? She thought so. Could she handle it if there was a parahuman on board? Or more than one?
Green eyes narrowed in determination. She could do this.
She pounced out of the water and struck two merchants with her body, knocking them down.
Their pained shouts drew the attention of everyone there.
For a moment all the Merchants were still as they looked at the nine foot tall parahuman that had come out of nowhere and attacked their invisible ship.
A man wearing a mask that revealed his incredibly bad teeth was the first to act. "Waste this fucker!"
Several pulled out handguns and opened fire in seconds. Taylor cringed in anticipation. She hadn't thought they would go to guns straight away.
She didn't have to worry. The bullets were barely an irritant, like a fly landing on bare skin.
Her confidence restored Taylor rushed towards the men firing at her. One by one she shadow punched the Merchants off the boat, using water from her afterimage to do the actual pushing.
A single shot struck her in the shoulder. Unlike the others it… kind of hurt. She turned and looked at the masked man. He was reloading a much larger handgun than the others had used. But that shouldn't have…
She remembered Skidmark's reported power.
'He used his power to increase the bullet speed?'
She used her hydrokinesis to move faster than he could aim. In less than a second she was on him. She used her water to rip the gun out of his hand and place it in hers.
Effortlessly she crushed the pistol in one hand and used the other to press her fingers through the wall next to Skidmark's head. He watched wild-eyed as the long claws punctured metal with ease.
He stared at her blankly, completely unmoving. She picked him up. Still no response. She shrugged and threw him off with the rest of the gangers.
Another man came up the stairwell from below. He was covered head to toe in scrap metal and plastic garbage. 'Mush. PHO says he can use trash like power armor.'
With a yell the villain charged her. She didn't move.
Mush threw his fist back and tried to punch her in the face with an armored fist. At the last moment Taylor raised a clawed hand to block it.
The attack didn't even make her hand tremble. Mush lowered his arms and stared at her in dismay. "Aww…"
Her tail whipped him in the gut and off the ship.
She touched the seawater with her powers and forced the surrounding ocean to be still. Perfectly still. The Merchants she had thrown into the bay found their bodies immobile. It was as if the water had turned to rock.
If she had a mouth she'd be smiling.
Instead her tail just wagged back and forth.
Armsmaster pulled his motorcycle onto the side of the road. Multiple reports had come in about a disturbance near the northern section of the commercial docks.
Most often the PRT and Protectorate would have let the police send an officer first. But this time there had been enough reports that it warranted heavier attention.
It became especially important once someone had called in 'a ship being dragged by a damn monster.'
Before him were various warehouses and storage depots for the freight industry. It was also a prime location to hide drugs and contraband hidden among regular boxes.
Armsmaster walked down the lane for semi-trucks leading to the oceanfront freight stations.
As he turned the corner he saw it. It wasn't even bothering to hide.
It was standing still in the darkness. The light from one of the warehouse's lampposts shone on the ground between him and it. The light prevented his eyes from adjusting to the darkness and disrupted ability to see it clearly.
He frowned heavily. He wished that his new helmet, complete with night vision and lie detector software, wasn't sitting unfinished at his workbench.
It stood taller than he was by nearly three feet. He could make out a long, whip-like tail and noticed its legs were bent oddly. 'Digitrade? I've seen stranger things…'
It seemed to be doing something at the edge of the lit area. He gripped his halberd in preparation for the worst and spoke.
"This is-" It whipped around and Armsmaster could easily make out two glowing green eyes in a strangely flat face. "I am Armsmaster. I received a report regarding… something strange going on in the area. I need to ask: hero or villain?"
The creature's head tilted to the side. A claw as long as his hand came up to its face and tapped its chin. Armsmaster realized that it actually was unbroken skin. The thing couldn't talk.
It took a step forward into the streetlamp's light and allowed Armsmaster a much clearer view of it.
"Please remain where you are. Are you a hero? Nod yes or no."
Instead of answering as he had asked, the tall creature lifted a wickedly clawed hand and held out a rope of water. It took slow, purposeful steps forward and dragged its cargo into the light.
The 'rope' led back several feet behind it to a tinkertech ship. He would recognize that half-scrap design anywhere. Squealer.
At first only the prow of the vessel appeared but then its sides became visible. A group of Merchants were strapped to both panels of the ship with a giant net of solid… liquid. Wrapped around the bottom of the ship was a layer of water acting like a boat trailer and preventing it from scraping along the pavement.
The armored hero could plainly make out a water-gagged Skidmark and Mush at the head of both sides.
Armsmaster didn't really know how to respond to that at first. It took him several moments to realize that this creature, this cape, had just declared itself a hero. Probably. It also seemed to be an incredibly strong or skilled one.
So he fell back to protocol.
He radioed a message to the PRT for criminal pickup and quietly requested Miss Militia for Public Relations Support and Assistance.
He turned back to the cape and spoke. "PRT vans are on their way to detain the criminals. I'd like you to stay so we can take your statement about what happened."
The cape's head tilted slowly.
Months Later
Gulf of Mexico
Taylor swam through the ocean at speeds vessels could only dream of.
She had a job to do.
Even as she extended her hydroclairvoyance to its maximum range her eyes glowed with joy. That night she had been given a sales pitch to join the Protectorate. Not the Wards. The Protectorate.
She had turned them down shortly after. She wasn't willing to give up her name or age, which had been a requirement. Not to mention the rules and stipulations of the heroes had been… stifling.
She didn't want that.
Maybe in a few years. After she had done things her own way for a while. After she told her dad about her powers. After she stopped lying to him about being over at Emma's on the weekends.
The bitter part of her was reminded that he was barely around the house to notice.
So she was still a vigilante according to the PRT. It didn't bother her. Her cooperation made her 'a valuable oceanic asset' according to Armsmaster.
But she wasn't stupid. Director Piggot didn't want her disrupting the 'status quo' of Brockton Bay. The woman had explained several times about the balance of power within the city. She hadn't listened. More than a few Empire gangers and capes were now in cells thanks to her.
The PRT wanted her outside of Brockton. So they offered her jobs that took her away.
Once the Protectorate had found out what speeds she could travel at they had arranged a communication system so she could assist in various east coast emergencies. Usually it was helping in search and rescue for ships.
She had saved lives.
Tanifa had saved lives.
That was what the news called her. A protective guardian who lived within dangerous currents.
But recently there had been an influx of parahuman cartel activity. The South American syndicates had begun pushing into Protectorate nations in the last several weeks and the PRT was having difficulty intercepting them.
So what if she was skipping the first day back from winter break?
She was doing something important.
…That the water was beautiful here didn't hurt.
A large object appeared on the edge of her senses. She turned and swiftly headed north. It had managed to pass her patrol?
She quickly caught up to the object: a submarine. A… very strange looking submarine. She brought up her sealed wrist-computer, built to withstand high water pressures. Built by Armsmaster himself! She checked for registered ships that were supposed to be in the area.
Nope.
She reached out and grappled the submersible with the ocean itself, swam to the front of it, and started pulling.
"Cocaine. A metric shit-ton of it, too. How did the cartels even get a submarine?"
"Tinkers, obviously."
A group of Protectorate heroes and PRT investigators stood nearby the Miami PHQ. The Triumvirate itself was there, having been scheduled for a public relations event.
The submarine itself stood on a literal plateau of water out in the ocean. Though it was technically in clear view of the surrounding area, a wall of water towered around them. It reached high above the nearby buildings and offered a level of privacy for the Protectorate and PRT as they worked to identify which cartel had sent it.
The cape that had brought it in stood before Alexandria. A claw was tracing lines on its open palm.
Legend chuckled. "I think she wants your autograph, Alexandria."
Eidolon looked at Legend, his face troubled.
"I feel… oddly rejected."
Tanifa : Hero (Independent)
Brute 6; Mover 6 (11 in open water); Shaker 10; Changer ?
A Protectorate ally, Tanifa is believed to be the most powerful hydrokinetic on the planet. Tanifa patrols much of the east coast of North America and is based in Brockton Bay. She has refused repeated requests to scale back her activities in the city itself, causing tensions to rise among the numerous gangs in the area. Despite this Tanifa has assisted in various emergencies both off-shore and across the east coast and Gulf of Mexico. She has proven vital in efforts to intercept South American cartel ocean convoys into Protectorate member nations.
Her physical appearance makes some believe she is a Case 53, but Tanifa herself has verified it is a transformation. Tanifa is incapable of speaking and must use a text-to-speech device to communicate. Tanifa has been tracked at supersonic speeds in open water and uses her hydrokinetic water-echo to increase her movement speed while on land.
AN: Tanifa is the bastardized English pronunciation of Taniwha. A protective, if sometimes vicious, water creature from folklore.
