A/N: Harlequin inspired Taylor. Also includes Bonesinger!Tinker!Taylor. Much jealousy from Armsmaster when that comes out. Though Kid Win is super excited about it and the two collaborate. Gets along famously with Clockblocker. Makes Gallant want to throw up though. Eldar emotions are so much more intense than Human.

She gets reworked into an Eldar because god-tomfoolery. And when she goes public with that info, eventually, it really helps out Cegorach's plans. Which is to have Humans and Eldar work together in Earth Bet's War in Heaven which has been pretty close to stale mate for 60 million years, because the Necrontyr (not Necrons) and Eldar have been fighting. No Orks, no (1 Old One who liked the Eldar enough to enhance them with its dying breath, before contact) Old Ones, no C'tan, so no Chaos (as we would know it). The reason the Necrontyr fight the Eldar is the same they fought the Old Ones for.

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It was dark, dank, disgusting inside that prison.

She was sure that it had been Sophia who had actually pushed her in. But Emma knew. Emma knew she hated trapped in small, confined spaces. Ever since the accidental half hour in the still child-proofed cupboard.

Emma had betrayed her, on levels that tore at her very soul. Made fun of her mother's death, destroyed one of her mother's prized possessions. Emma flaunted her looks and wealth. Cutting her deep with words and actions that ruined the one thing she had over Emma, academics.

She had been weathering the storm of betrayal, crawling deep into herself. But this? She no longer wished to simply flee or ignore what was happening.

The switch turned from flight to fight.

Hate, burning, raging hate consumed her in that moment. She screamed, yet again, but pulled from the very depths of her being, pouring that hate into the scream.

And it was in that moment she saw great whales? worms? something like organic stars floating and twisting in some barely discernible shape. As she saw one of those shards hurtle towards her, a sword lashed out with a loud laugh accompanying it and shattered the shard.

What then entered her vision was a jester?

And that trickster gave Taylor an offer she could scarcely refuse.

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The ears were easy enough to hide. Cegorach had hidden them for her. It was too early in the performance, for it to be revealed. After she had left the hospital, recovering from the infectious wounds and transformation, she simply used her hair to do most of the work. The rest of the changes to her body would take time or specialized equipment to notice.

Or she could simply punch something or sprint. She was rather strong and fast now.

And to her delight, she would fill out some and be a bit more feminine, never again mistaken for a boy despite her current and expected height. The First Fool laughed heartily while she pouted at him.

It had taken months to summon, build, and modify her armor, weapons and gear.

The armor was bright and dark, made up of many strange and clashing colors. Taylor supposed if she had still been untouched by the Great Harelquin, it would have hurt her eyes, as it was, it would make her difficult to track. It was topped off by a special cloak. Cegorach said it was his, and it was his gift to her. The Mantle of the Laughing God. Making her even harder to see when she didn't want to be seen.

Taylor's wrist mounted Harlequin's Kiss now had two settings. The first setting would wrap the person she was trying to catch in braided wires. It would cut and hurt but immobilize them without too much damage. The other was Lethal. Monofilament wires released inside someone's body was going to probably kill everyone she came across. Likely even regenerators like Lung, but not full on invulnerable people like Alexandria. The Lethal option was going to be saved for truly life threatening situations, dragon Lung, and parahumans with kill orders. The down side was that it required melee or just outside of melee range. But that was why she has her pistol.

There was no non-lethal setting. It fired a mono-molecular disk of a plastic crystal. It would slice through just about anything Taylor could think of. So she would have to practice her aiming, and look for non-lethal shots. It would have to be something she discussed with the PRT when she joined the Wards, like her patron's plan wanted her too.

A simple and elegant wraithbone sword finished off the whole weapons set. It was incredibly sharp and tough, but otherwise no more dangerous than a normal sword.

Then came her flip-belt. The only piece of gear that wasn't directly integrated into her armor. The ability to take it off and crank it up had lots of potential rescue applications. Personal anti-gravity was a marvel she intended to use and abuse. Just the little bit she used on it for nigh indefinite power would drastically increase her mobility. The short bursts of lifting people would last for a day or so, before she would need to recharge it with her meagre psychic powers.

Finally her kit was done. And she had been practicing her movements, her acting. So after making sure her father was asleep, she went out to be a hero.

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Lung was beyond frustrated. It took rage to get him going, but sustained combat was what he needed to power up further. And just chasing a cackling madwoman around didn't count.

She had dropped into the middle of him and his gang on their way to fight and kill the Undersiders. She moved strangely. It was elegant, but still somehow... wrong. Different. Lung did not know the word he would use for sure. And then with a laugh she danced around all the mooks he had brought and laid them low.

She shooed those same mooks off when he changed and began launching fireballs at her. Even giving one a literal swift kick in the pants.

Looking at her hurt his eyes. The cacophony of shifting colors and light made even his draconic eyes water. Or rather would have, if they could. Either way, it made her much harder to hit, even in a glancing way. She would even jerk out of the way when he thought for sure he had her.

Then Armsmaster showed up. Lung's leg literally exploded in a burst of gore after she punched him there.

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Lung's howls of pain were terrible to listen to.

"O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! Have you come to claim the mighty Jabberwock? For I wish him to not be slain, but I cannot stop him without bloody rain!"

This was one of the strangest capes Armsmaster ever met. Female, from the slight case of boob-plate, and making slashing moments, just moments after flipping over to him in a dazzling display of gymnastics and sickening colours. She didn't even seem tired after fighting Lung for what seemed to be fifteen minutes. Her lilting and strangely melodic voice didn't even sound strained.

Still, he had no smart answer.

"What?"

"The Vorpral Blade have I, but should I use it, he will die! This should not be, will you not help me? Tick, tock, tick, tock! We are on the clock!"

She claimed to be able to kill Lung, but didn't want to. Understandable. And they had a limited time frame, Lung was healing from whatever she did to his leg in that... bloody explosion.

Armsmaster nodded and the cape slumped in exaggerated relief. He quickly grabbed his Lung tranquilizers and the two of them re-engaged a now mostly healed, and much bigger, Lung. He roared and spat a long stream of fire at the female cape. Dancing out of the way and underneath him, she punched him in the approximation of his crotch this time, and again there was a shower of gore.

Lung howled again and exposed himself to an assualt from a wincing Armsmaster, who managed to lodge three tranqs into the dragon. It took a few moments but the dragon slumped and thumped on the ground, shrinking rapidly. When he was human again, Lung didn't look so good, but Armsmaster's sensors told him that the man was still regenerating, though much slower than usual.

As long as the man didn't die. It would be worth a call to Panacea. The leader of the Brockton Bay Protectorate put in a priority alert for Panacea to meet them somewhere on the way to the holding cells, along with a immediate PRT response to the scene with medical personnel.

"Grievous damage, have I dealt, but surely, he will only end up with a welt?"

He looked at the new cape, because what else could she be, and took a moment to compile a good response. For her part, she looked worried about it. Hopping from foot to foot and wringing her hands. Her smiling mask morphing into an exaggerated worried face.

"I put in a call to the local healer as insurance, but its unlikely that he'll end up with permanent damage either way. What did you do to him anyways?"

She showed him her forearm where a tube was mounted.

"I attacked him with this, the normally lethal Harlequin's Kiss. A mode I don't wish to use, but myself over him, I would choose. Children, he struck out to fight. I, instead, fought him on my very first night."

The rhythmic and rhyming talk was annoying, Armsmaster decided. And she can do that kind of damage on her first night out? Was she a tinker that managed to slip under the radar? It would certainly explain the way she seemed to blend into the surroundings when she was still, and the lights that dazzled and distracted when she moved. A tinker/thinker combo?

Tinker tech designed to confuse and debilitate until she got in close and do damage? A villain? A cops and robbers villain with morals perhaps? Or a hero who simply had lethal tech because she had no mentor to help teach her, to work her tech down to non-lethal?

That had been Kid Win's issue and the reason he had joined the Wards before they even found him through the usual means. His lasers were too powerful. A problem a lot of tinkers had at first. Extra-lethal tech.

"Who are you?"

She straightened up and gave an exaggerated bow, her mask now smiling.

"With the fight I have been remiss, and with showing you the Harlequin's Kiss. But the Kiss is mine, the Harlequin is my sign."

Harlequin certainly fit the costume and smiling full face mask.

"With hope, I ask. After this task, was a good impression made? To be a hero, I was bade. To join the Wards, I was asked by my comedic Lord."

Bagging Lung solo would have been a huge feather in his cap, and from the looks of it, she hadn't fought Lung as much as dodged Lung. Bagging Lung and recruiting the parahuman who delayed the gang leader long and well enough for Lung to still be small enough for the tranqs to work when Armsmaster showed up would be just about as good.

"You can come with us to the PRT building, and we can start the paperwork, but since I'm assuming that you're a minor, we need parental permission, and we will need you to unmask."

That got a nod.

"It has been quite a bother, hiding this from my father. It has been quite the weight, but is there a chance, a night this could wait? For him, I wish to tell, and the Wards will be quite the sell."

"If you choose to not join the Wards-"

"I was told to join the Wards. This was commanded by my Lord. I shall not fail him, if I did, the future would be quite dim."

"Are you being threatened to join the Wards? Is this your way of saying you're a mole in the making?"

Armsmaster shifted into a defensive position.

But peals of laughter left the cape, who bent over, holding her stomach. Sirens could now be heard in the distance.

"Not for me, but for you. I have my Lord, but my words, you skew. I have a task, no reason for you to be rash. Co-operation is what we need, or else the Endbringers will do the deed. The First Fool has plans, for the glory of man. The Wards are the best way, perhaps you should listen to what I say."

Giggles kept leaving Harlequin. And Armsmaster was left trying to formulate a response. Luckily he was saved by PRT agents arriving and having to direct them to Lung. He decided that he would be very wary of this potential Ward. Was her 'Lord' some kind of super-thinker who knew more than the PRT and Protectorate's Thinkers? Why would he operate in the shadows? Perhaps he was threatened and had to act through another parahuman?

At least, she was convinced she was going to join the Wards.

"Here's my card. Call it tomorrow, after you've talked to your father. After the operator answers, give them the pass code 'Man at Arms Nine.' Its the phrase that let's them know you want to talk to me about recruitment, and it isn't an emergency. Use 'Man at Arms Eight' if it is a low priority emergency. If your parents don't take you being a parahuman well or something along those lines, use the second. If its an actual parahuman related emergency or a high priority emergency they will be able to help you directly."

Harlequin took the card with a flourish that continued into putting it away.

"Thank you, kind knight. You act with wisdom and might."

Armsmaster gave her a nod, and she left with a jaunty wave and a leap up to the rough tops.

Lung had finally been loaded up, when one of the senior PRT agents walked up to Armsmaster.

"Well, we got the dragon-man... That one is a strange one, laid him down with some serious hurt. Medics tell me he'll live, and we let Panacea know to stand down. Hero?"

"I certainly hope so. If she were a villain we would spend more time confused than fighting."

The agent just nodded at that.

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A/N: I don't have any 40k books besides a couple of Codices, so I imagine the Harlequin speak in a lilting, rhythmic, rhyming way. Its certainly not perfect, because I blow at 'poetry,' but when I imagine the jesters and harlequins of yore, I've always imagined them speaking like that, or in a manner similar enough. And it would lend to the cryptic way Eldar talk, and make it even more confusing. But she only does this with the mask on or when she's in the Harlequin persona.

I have an idea for a Champion (not avatar) of Khaine curb stomp.

Anyways, Taking (preferably in the form of reviews) Ideas/Votes on Next Blurb. I will try to do ones where she joins the Undersiders as well. I do have 17 more Primarchs, the Emprah, 'nids, Fething Tau, Necrons, Eldar, Dark Eldar, AdMech, IG, Inquisition, Bolter Bitches, Orks etc. to choose from.