Special thanks to Magery for his Beta work.


Awakening 1.02

When she looked back upon it, Taylor would be grateful—when she arrived back to the one place that she unconsciously fled to because it was safe—that no one had seen her. After all, it was nigh impossible to not miss the massive cascade of paper that coalesced into a nude teenage girl at the front door of the Hebert household.

But that didn't cross her mind as she leaned against the door, trying to regain her breath. The way her lungs burned felt like she had run a marathon. And yet, that was far from her concern at the moment, paling in comparison to the myriad of thoughts flitting through her head that were leading her to a near-state of panic.

After all, finding out that you were cape was one thing... it was quite another to find out that you were a cape that could change your entire body into paper and fly anywhere at the same time as being outed publicly!

So, it was understandable that she did not recognize her situation until she touched the door to her home in the process of trying to turn the doorknob. The physical stimuli of hitting the door—gentle as it might have been—caused a soft reboot that made her realize her situation.

Panic morphed into dawning horror.

Not only was she without a stitch of clothing, but her only means of getting into the house were still within the clothing that she had left behind in her unconscious quest to flee a distressing situation.

As quickly as the panic had turned to horror, though, it fizzled as cold, hard, rational logic reined it into obedience, like a light switch being flipped in her head. Green eyes narrowed in concentration as she stepped back, the cold providing not even a nuisance for her, despite the season being somewhat cooler than usual.

After a few moments, she found what she had needed - she'd left the window to her bedroom a slightly open that morning, in the interests of airing the house a little. A small spark of panic fluttered through her mind at the thought of what she was about to do, but it was quickly tamped down. Instead, she began to focus, looking at down at her hands as her skin began to peel into paper.

Fighting back the revulsion at the strangeness she was seeing, she instead concentrated harder, closing out everything except herself and her need to get into that window, where she could find safety and comfort.

In truth, the strangest thing about it was that it didn't feel strange at all. Her body didn't feel any different whether it was paper or flesh. She had touch, she felt sensation, like she was still made of skin and bone rather than dead trees. That sense, the one that told you where everything you were was in relation to everything else you were—proprioception, if she remembered correctly—was working perfectly - even when her arm split entirely from her body and fluttered toward the window.

That, more than anything else, terrified her. Because it wasn't normal, absolutely not, but it felt like she'd been living this way her whole life. As she reassembled in her bedroom, that thought along with everything else hit at the same time. She hadn't even allowed the last sheets to finish reapplying to her body before she was off in a sprint to the bathroom, making it just in time for her breakfast to make a violent reappearance into the toilet bowl.

She lay sprawled on her knees like that for a good ten minutes, her mind trying to come to grasp with everything that had taken place. But that was not the worst part of it all; no, those events were a mere appetizer for the horrifying conclusion she just reached.

I have the same powers as her, Taylor thought to herself, I have the same…. those memories. They're real, aren't they? All of it, it's real. Konan. Her abilities, her, she felt her gorge rise again, so she took a deep breath to try and prevent a pointless exercise as she no longer had nothing left in her stomach to purge, thoughts. Those thoughts I've been having, they're what she would think. They have to be.

Resting her head against the cool porcelain, she closed her eyes, trying to organize everything into a cohesive construct. She may have let her grades slide simply because it was pointless to try in the face of the Trio, but that didn't stop her from cultivating her mind.

"Okay, forget the thoughts, forget the memories, Taylor," she murmured to herself, "you have her powers. What can you do?"

She then shook her head as images of battles fought as Konan flitted through her mind, before coming back to a singular errant thought that gave her pause, "No, the better question is, what can't you do?"

Suddenly remembering her nudity, she took a deep cleansing breath, wiping her mouth clean of any debris from her episode before rising to her feet. She stepped over in front a mirror to look at herself, inured to the strangeness of this entire situation before closing her eyes.

"Okay Taylor," she muttered to herself, concentrating on the idea that had implanted itself in her head. If she had opened her eyes as she focused, she would have watched as her 'skin' peeled and morphed, expanding before contouring to her body in its new shape as color was added on what was previously bone white.

When her eyes opened, she found herself 'dressed' in the very outfit that Konan had worn underneath her cloak. Scanning at it for a moment, she found that she had mixed feelings for the garb—and nowhere near the right body—before what she had just done hit her.

Taylor laughed.

"At least I won't have to worry about buying clothes anymore," she said once she had finished laughing, focusing upon herself in the mirror and concentrating to change her clothing to something more...upstanding, recalling both the look and feel of the clothing she had worn this morning. Soon enough, she was decked out in a facsimile of that outfit, staring at her image.

Satisfied that she was now decent, she left the bathroom focusing upon the revelation that yes, she had the abilities of this woman who was named Konan, but she also shared her thoughts and memories. Judging by how she had been in the last couple of weeks, they were bleeding through in almost every facet of how she acted. That thought was a… mixed bag, to say the least. After all, who would be comfortable with their head being a timeshare for two different mentalities, one of which was not their own?

But that was for later. There were larger issues at the moment: the first was that she was a cape, but the second, and by far the more serious of the two, was the fact that she had been outed in public. Right now, she needed to prepare for the eventuality that she would be confronted either by the PRT and the Protectorate, or some other group like the E88, for recruitment. While the former might take no for an answer, the E88 would surely not. That meant she would have to protect herself.

And while she was positive that she had access to Konan's entire arsenal of abilities—

Techniques, she corrected herself, before catching the errant and foreign thought and groaning as she cradled her head in frustration. It was made worse by the fact that the word was something else entirely - but Taylor couldn't help but translate the meaning in her head, from a language she didn't even know. Except she did.

If she had been winded just from using Dance of the Shikigami over that distance, that meant that she would have to be sparing in using more higher powered techniques and keep it simple for now, until she had the time to expand her... chakra coils. Something that would likely take months, possibly years - but she was more intent on making it months.

Which meant she had to exercise more, not just physically, but more importantly with her chakra.

However, first she needed to eat. From what Konan's knowledge was telling her, chakra exercises were calorie-consuming endeavors that if one did not eat right and frequently would end up doing more harm than good. Pretty much like exercise. Except for the soul. Sort of.

Some pan-seared tilapia sounded… her eyes closed as she let a deep sigh that sufficed for the internal screaming currently taking place.

Now I know why I suddenly don't like fried, greasy food, she thought to herself with a hint of bitterness. She had actually liked them previously.

Nonetheless, despite that Konanic (yeah, she was going to call it that) influence, fish did sound like a nice filling and healthy meal. With a side of rice and vegetables. Did they even have all of those in the house?

And yet another problem appears, she thought to herself with a groan at the financial implications that would entail a change to a diet to promote her growth. Something else to be added to the laundry list of shit that needed to be figured out pronto.


When Hannah had come back from her nightly patrol without any notable incidents, she'd found herself not looking forward to the day. It was a belief that stemmed from supposed empirical evidence collected through a biased lens of superstition.

Apparently, it hadn't been superstition at all.

Instead, it was the reality that had been thrown straight into the lap of the woman who called herself Miss Militia, as she strode purposefully toward the household of Taylor Hebert. And she was none too pleased. No, that would be an understatement - if she had still retained the angriest parts of her, she would right now be resisting the urge to scream obscenities to the heavens.

Because at the heart of all of the reasons why she was here was Sophia Hess—Shadow Stalker—an irritant that was fast approaching an aggravation worthy of more than a few choice words. While she was one for providing second chances, the case of Shadow Stalker was one that she had privately felt was unnecessary. You didn't bring a vigilante with a attempted murder charges into a group of impressionable teens with powers and not expect trouble, especially when said perpetrator was a cause for more stress in the Wards as well as not showing any real remorse for her actions.

No, it was simply a matter of desperation that Sophia Hess had not simply been arrested and carted off to an appropriate prison. A desperation that stemmed from the fact that the Protectorate chapter of Brockton Bay was fighting a losing war for the heart and soul of the city.

Stifling those dark thoughts for later, she arrived at the door and reviewed what she had been able to bring up about Taylor Hebert. Suffice to say, it hadn't been a lot. If there had been an initial reading of the young woman, it would best describe her as an unremarkable fifteen year old who was an outsider in the hell that was the terrible teens. At least, that was what Hannah had seen on the surface. She had a feeling that it was much deeper than that, especially after piecing together the incident in which Taylor Hebert was found in a locker filled with biological waste and now this video, along with the sudden drop in her grades and attendance in recent years.

No, she had a sneaking suspicion that what she was aware of was merely the tip of the iceberg. And if that were true, then her respect for the young woman would certainly be justified, considering the usual reaction once a troubled teen realized they were a cape.

And the worst part of all of this was the fact that this was a courtesy visit that likely would not end with the Wards gaining a new member, since Taylor Hebert was outed and it was already all over ParaHumans Online. Probably for the best considering the Protectorate's tacit involvement in her tormenting.

Knocking on the door, she decided that whatever happened here, she was going to shoot straight with Taylor, and when she got back to the Rig she was going to make it her job to transact a pound of flesh from Hess over the situation. One way or another, she would learn the truth.

Away from her personal thoughts, though, she had to wonder, after a few minutes, if she had been wrong about Taylor returning home in spite of the vector of her escape being sighted by several bystanders.

That thought was finally proven wrong as the door opened to reveal Taylor Hebert.

"Hi, Miss Hebert, I'm Miss Militia," she introduced herself, trying to appear as non-confrontational as possible; an improbability considering who she was, but the attempt was honest, "I've just come to see if you're okay, and maybe ask some questions, if you are willing."

She grimaced at how she awkward she sounded, and thanked the fact that the Director had the sanity to have her approach Taylor instead of Colin. If the expression Taylor wore while greeting her was any indicator, this was likely going to be a rather interesting discussion if it took place. After all, she had expected a more significant reaction than Taylor's eyes narrowing for a moment before casting a surreptitious scan over Hannah's shoulder.

Searching for additional threats, she realized unnervingly with a start. Just how bad had it been that a teenager would adopt the mannerisms of someone who felt under threat?

"I also brought your things as well," she added, holding up Taylor's backpack and a bag filled with the belongings that she had left at Winslow. Maybe the peace offering would at least break the ice somewhat. Maybe it wouldn't. They were Taylor's anyway, and she deserved to have them.

After another moment of awkward silence, Taylor finally responded by taking the offering.

"Thank you. Please, come in, I was just finishing up lunch."

With that, she turned and walked softly inside, going at a slow enough pace for Hannah to be able to close the door behind her as she stepped in and followed. Taylor led her into the kitchen, where she was met with the smell and sights of lunch just freshly prepared.

"Please," Taylor said, moving what appeared to be a fish stir fry off its gas burner, "take a seat, I'll be with you in a moment."

Taking the offered seat at the kitchen table, she used the opportunity to study her surroundings before focusing upon the reason she was here as Taylor finished with setting the food aside.

A thought was niggling at the back of her mind at how off this all seemed. It wasn't just the way that she was greeted, but it was just how Taylor seemed to carry herself. It was subtle, but there was an edge to how she carried herself. Like she was a knife, newly drawn and ready for violence at any moment. Again, she wondered why that would be; Taylor was not acting anywhere near the way Hannah had expected her to.

"Would you like some tea?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, thank you."

Thankfully, it wasn't iced tea. The thought came with a hint of relief; Taylor had an actual kettle on the stove, and she proceeded to pour out the hot contents into a pair of cups and bring them over to the table before she sat down.

"Thank you for bringing my stuff back, I appreciate it," Taylor began. "Now, you said you had questions?"

It was like looking at a puzzle and missing so many pieces you couldn't make heads or tails of what the picture should be. Or even if there was a picture at all. There was something that she was not seeing, both in the mannerisms that just not should be and the verbiage. This wasn't an act either, that much was apparent. Taylor was too composed for that.

"Let me say first that you don't have to answer any question that you are uncomfortable with, Taylor. I do have a few questions that may be too personal considering the events that have transpired, but don't feel obligated to answer them if you really don't want to."

There was a slight nod of acknowledgement, and after taking a sip of tea that she idly noted was green, she asked the first question that burgeoned in her mind.

"May I inquire as to when and how you triggered?"

There was a slight down-tick to Taylor's impassive expression; if she hadn't been looking for it, she wouldn't have seen it. What it meant, on the other hand, Hannah wasn't so sure.

"In hindsight, I triggered after I was stuffed into my locker and left there for a few hours," came her answer after a few moments in a clinical tone, before a certain frostiness took over in the last part of her response. "I was not aware that I had triggered and what my abilities were until today."

The standard operating procedure here would have been to inquire as to the abilities that the subject had since it had been broached, something Colin would have done for sure. But it was both the tone and her suspicion that fueled her departure from SOP.

"How long were you bullied by them?" she asked, slipping in some compassion to try and soothe the wounds that were readily apparent. While she had her own experiences with it, back when she'd gone to school knowing fewer words of English than she did numbers, they seemed to pale in comparison to what she suspected Taylor had endured.

It was in that question that she saw the first realemotion from Taylor, if only for a few moments. The way her eyes narrowed dangerously, her jaw clenched, and a slight sneer appeared upon her lips—even if it vanished just as quickly—made it apparent that her suspicions were correct.

She just wasn't expecting how truly bad it was.

"A year and a half," Taylor responded.

It didn't take a genius to put two and two together and end up with shit! Because that was exactly what she concluded with as she resisted the urge to groan. That pretty much sealed the deal on any attempts at recruiting Taylor for the time being. At least until Shadow Stalker was dealt with - there was no way she would place Taylor in an environment with Sophia Hess.

"I'm sorry."

A slight tilt of the head was the only response for moment, as if Taylor was trying to decipher what she meant by that.

"Are you sorry because I was bullied? Or for some other reason entirely?"

It was her turn to blink, taken aback at how much that the young woman had read into the intent of her apology. She had meant it because, while she had not known about it, she still had some burden of responsibility for Shadow Stalker's actions.

"I'm sorry that you were bullied for so long, Miss Hebert."

Instead of offering any response, she found herself under a calculating stare from the teenager. It was then that she recalled something else as she found herself focused now entirely upon Taylor.

Her eyes were not green.

Immediately she tensed, staring into burnt orange eyes that met hers evenly, before they faded into white and "Taylor" began to peel apart, sheets of paper taking off into the living room. Hannah rose out of her chair, moving as fast as she could without making it a threat. The combat knife sheathed at her hip unfolded, blurring halfway into a flamethrower before Hannah forced it down.

Instead, she watched as the paper met up with yet another wave of paper that peeled off the walls and other pieces of furniture in the living room, coalescing into another Taylor, who now held her hands up looking apologetic.

"Sorry. Sorry," the young teenager apologized, "I wasn't aware of how long my clone would last."

Relaxing a bit, she watched as Taylor walked to the table, reached into the bag that had contained her belongings, and extracted the broken pair of glasses therein. Grimacing, she placed the broken frames on the table in front of her, before finally taking a sip of what was now likely lukewarm tea.

"I hope you don't mind," Taylor then began, before holding up her left hand upright and bowing her head slightly, muttering something under her breath. What did hens have to do with anything?

After a moment, she brought her hand down, eyes now once again green.

"About my abilities," Taylor continued, obviously trying to regain control of the situation, "I guess you've already figured that I can transform myself into paper, but well," she paused, turning her right palm up and a single sheet of paper peeled off, before beginning to fold, as several other sheets of paper joined its brethren, eventually forming an ornate origami flower that then turned sky-blue. Placing it down, she then slid it across the table to allow her to look at it with a bit of admiration.

"I can control and manipulate paper that I create or touch."

She then held up her left hand, and again, with a sense of amazement, Hannah found herself watching as a new construct was formed right before her eyes from paper: a leaf-shaped daggerhead that was connected to a haft with a ringed pommel. It then dropped into Taylor's hand; when she slid it across the table to Hannah, it skidded like, well, metal on wood.

To her amazement, it actually felt like the real thing, all the way down to the weight. When Hannah let it go, dropping it back down on to the table with a dull thunk, she watched as it returned to individual sheets of paper. They flew back across the table and disappeared into Taylor's body. It was honestly unnerving, but at the same time there was an eerie beauty to it.

"And the thing with the eyes?"

"A transformation," Taylor quickly supplied, but didn't add anything more to clarify.

Nodding mutely, she realized that this was probably all that she was going to get out of Taylor at least for now. It was obvious that that there was likely more considering the clone and how she had appeared to be watching them this entire time, but she was not here to push the issue.

"Thank you for telling me, Taylor. Now, the reason I'm here is to talk to you about your options. Rogue capes unfortunately do not survive long on their own. I'm not really trying to throw recruitment options at you in a time like this, but, well, your unique circumstances and powers tie my hands when it comes to what I can do to help you. I'd suggest that it may be in your best interest to get in touch with New Wave."

Taylor nodded, obviously taking in what Hannah had said, which was honestly all she could ask for. The choice was now solely in the teenager's hand. That wasn't to say that she wouldn't touch base with Sarah Pelham and ask her to check in on Taylor in a few days.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Not right now. If or when I do, is there any way I can contact you?"

"Sure," she retrieved a card from one of her pockets and handed it to Taylor. Recognizing that there was not much else she could do at the moment, she rose to her feet, "Thank you for your time, Taylor."

"No, thank you," the teen stood up herself, before picking up the paper flower she had made earlier, "please, take it. As a token of appreciation."

Taking a look at the faux flower and then back to Taylor, she then took it. It was a beautiful thing, and for a moment Hannah felt sad about what it was going to be put through when she got back to the Rig. If it made it through all the Master/Stranger screening—because of course you couldn't be too careful—then it'd probably disappear into Colin's lab, never to be seen again except in Hannah's memory.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," the raven-haired teenager replied, opening her mouth to add something more, before closing it and offering a sad smile instead.

"Thank you, then. I hope to hear from you in the future, Taylor. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me."

"I promise."

And with that, Taylor escorted her to the door and showed her out.

Hannah found herself thinking back to the ornate, sky-blue flower as she drove back towards the Rig, intent on reporting to Director Piggot. Something beautiful, made from the twisted, folded corpses of what it resembled.

There was a metaphor in there, somewhere.