Aria 1.2

His tone was official, no doubt practiced in front of mirror for months on end. It didn't impress Annette anymore than when she'd first been allowed to see her daughter after turning herself in. Still, she complied. Letting out a sigh of relief once her face was out of view. She stared into the wall of the one person room before giving it her best indignant scowl. Taylor had arrived, and all was right with the universe. Well, as right as circumstances allowed. There were no other options for her besides defiance and a cancelled visit. The gate opened with a clank, and a pair of hands began patting her down, checking the cape for any improvised weapons.

She gritted her teeth, trying to fight back against the way her skin crawled. Bile seemed to rise to the back of her throat as the pleb's hands roamed across her body. There were a select few she'd ever allowed to even lay a hand on her! The indignity was almost too much for her to bear without lashing out, but she could suffer the small humiliation for now. She dug her hands into the cement brick so hard she thought it might crumble beneath her grasp, her fingers flexing and twitching ever so slightly, her digits aching from the effort. She always left the frisk's feeling like she needed a shower, or even just a steel brush to scrape away the lingering feelings if rage and disgust that seemed to dry into a nauseating crust over her flesh. To say it was the least favorite part of the little ritual she had to go through to see her daughter was an understatement.

The hands pulled away, the guard apparently satisfied with the way he'd groped her. What was normal prison procedure for dangerous inmates was a crime against nature to the regal Shatterbird.

"She's clean, and the choker's diagnostics are good." About time! she screamed in her head. The two minute process felt like centuries, leaving her like a man dying of dehydration next in line to visit a water park.

"Alright, down the hallway." She turned around and made her way out the cell, only now noticing the greying hair of the guard that had opened the door. Usually the guards changed, most never really wanting to stick near the parahuman wing of the facility for too long. Annette couldn't blame them. Even with the extra security and electronic overhead from Dragon it only took a cape losing it for a second to end up another fatality statistic. Combine this with the fact that she never really cared to remember their faces anyway and he was just another uniform.

The troopers flanked her from behind, hands curled tight around the stublike barrels of their weapons. They were a different story. A part of the small rotating team that were meant to keep the powered inmates in line, and even then it was usually only the higher profile ones like her that they worried about. They were made up of about fifteen or so different officers. Most were only temporary, but the three behind her had supposedly been on about three years prior to her imprisonment. She liked to think they served as good of an honor guard as any.

It was only a short walk to the parahuman wing through about three different gates, each one rated to stand up to about a brute six beating for about half an hour, shaving five minute so for roughly each extra rank. She could hear the warden now, that surly drawl that had just barest hint of Midwest in her voice.

Down a hallway which lead to the much more historical Brockton Correctional facility. In truth the Parahuman wing was a much newer addition built onto the older facility, a response to Scion and the relative chaos powers had introduced to the world.

The warden had been eager to make the facts those facts as clear as possible to Annette when she was first inducted, as though that would've stopped her had she not been forced to wear the Choker. The seemingly harmless accessory shocking her with the force of a high-strength taser everytime the pitch of her voice got high enough to use her power. She didn't know what the damn things power source was, being so small and light. But the fact that her cell wasn't lined with lead at least told her she wouldn't be needing chemo anytime soon.

Down the hallway and past another gate that could take about brute three, until the team pushed her through a doorway to a small fifteen by ten room dedicated to visitation. Across from her was a stainless steel table that was bolted to the ground and a pair of moderately comfortable chairs greeting her alongside a set of steel barred gate and another door which lead to the processing area. A guard peeked in from the window at the door.

Her normal unyielding and focused gaze softened into a smile as she saw who was sitting in the chair. She couldn't be mad whenever her family visited, her dearest daughter come to whisk her away from the banality of prison life, even if only for an hour. It was painful, watching her spring up so suddenly. Each visit Taylor had seemed to have grown an inch until Annette stood at her jaw, displaying quite obvious which parent she'd gotten her height from.

"Songbird, you made it. I was beginning to worry, thought you might've decided to skip out. You're old enough to start rebelling aren't you? To think your dear mother isn't the end all to be all." Ending the joke with a little chuckle. Shattering every window in Dubai when I played my music too loud. Killing and wounding thousands, see I was a teenager too.

The collared woman's smile, practiced for decades to shield away every insecurity held true. Behind that look of cold, almost smug joy was a genuine light in her eyes, like a charmed snake or grinning rakshasa of Hindu myth. One could've mistaken her for actually enjoying her stay, hoping to show off the constant vacation prison life had to be.

Come visit Brockton Correctional, where the nazis are caged, and the bad girls will steal your heart. The image of an inmate in old time stripes lounging in the courtyard graced her mind before being dashed away. She had to focus, her daughter was here. One of the few lights of her life. She deserved her mother's undivided attention.

"I tried but then I remembered you had me beat. Figured I'd ask for some pointers before I made the plunge." Taylor dead panned back, a tiny smile shining through what was no doubt a flood of teenage angst. At least Shatterbird hoped so, she could always ask later on. Considering the way her past had been brought to bear.

"I'll ask the guards to make a spot in my cell open. Make it a little twenty five to life slumber party, like when Emma used to visit." Annette blinked when the corner of Taylor's mouth seem to twitch slightly at the mention of her best friend's name. Odd, were they fighting? Did Danny confide in Alan about his wife's past? The sense of betrayal, and the sheer fact that his best friend's lover was an A-class threat enough to make him no longer allow her child to see her best, and seemingly only friend?

She'd tear him apart! Everything was gone, her job, her freedom! Both lost. The ability to even see her family tightly controlled by the state. If he was making her broodling's life a hair harder than it already was she'd shave his skin away in a storm of sand, turn his entire yuppie neighborhood into a localised dust bowl that shredded away everything until nothing but bone was left!

"Yeah." Her daughter paused for a second as though she didn't know what to say, her mouth open. She suppressed the urge to tell her it was an unrefined habit to leave your mouth open. This was family time, and she wasn't going to let anything ruin it for her daughter, she could make bad memories when she got out. If she got out.

"She told me to say hi." Annette's mind was back at ease, though still diligent. Now if only she could actually get her hands on that mayor. She'd done it before, acting as the one to hold Danny steady, and to serve as extra muscle in the event a shouting match occurred. The fact that she was Shatterbird having came out only expanded the bag of tricks she wished she could've utilized.

"Say hello back for me. You tell her the real reason I'm away?"

"We stuck with the whole visa thing. She hasn't spoken up about it since anyway so no need to clear anything up. Just…" Taylor paused once more, this time her mouth closed as though she were in thought for a few more seconds. "Yeah though, everything's alright, easier to stick with the story than make her lose her mind about knowing a cape. Dad misses you a lot, like always. He's sorry again about not coming in today. It's his yearly pitch."

"Maybe he should mention the real reason I'm gone, it'd give him leverage."

"Not when you're stuck here."

"Never know. Still, I don't blame you two for being so quiet about it."

"Mom."

"Taylor, I kept my mouth shut for seventeen years. I understand." Annette did her best to make a warm smile, managing to morph her smile into a tiny grin, similar to the one Taylor had made earlier. Not quite the all embracing bearhug one normally expected, but a hand on the shoulder, an offering of comfort. If the pair's relation were ever in question, that alone would shut anyone up. Annette knew all too well, she'd played the same game most of her life with them. The consequences just seemed to be dwarfed by how easy it all seemed to just go with the cover story.

"...yeah, but if you weren't...y'know." Taylor lowered her eyes, looking down at a particularly deep scratch in the table.

"Love…" She sighed, reaching up to place a hand on her daughter's shoulder. She still had to take a moment to stand in awe of how tall she'd sprouted. Her smile faded back to a steadfast expression. Offering the girl something to latch onto, to act as her rock. "It was this, fight, or the birdcage. The latter two meant I'd probably never see you or your father again."

"I know, but... " Taylor trailed off again, her voice going back to that quiet hum that'd seemed to crop up after her mom's capture.

"It's okay dear. Sadly, what's done is done. Besides, now I can't be distracted by my painting. Just you and me. Best group therapy money can buy and the PRT is fronting the bill."

"Optimistic, you make it sound like you want to be here."

"Good, been thinking if I keep it up they'll think the real punishment is letting me out."

They continued like this for the rest of the hour, Annette pestering and asking questions like any parent. Albeit digging deeper than normal, though no one would blame her. Seeing your daughter only three or four times a month during one of the most important times of her life would do that. They ran through the latest books they'd read, Taylor promising to mail them over. Annette recanted some of the tales from the wing. Some of the newer parahumans that'd been transferred over. Without naming names of course. It almost felt normal. Annette wished she could've made their time together last forever.

Still she couldn't help but get the sense her daughter was hiding something. Annette held her tongue, hoping that if she played it safe, tried to play it warmer - to be the parent she kinda wished she could've been that Taylor would be able to open up to her. The guards eventually buzzed in a five minute warning, cutting them off with a harsh static filled squawk. Annette did what was natural and gave her offspring a hug before she was forced to return to that solitary cell.

"I love you songbird. Don't forget it, tell your father I miss him."

"Alright, love you too." When the words registered in her mind, Annette had to bite down on her jaw, feeling the tears well up at the corner of her eyes. She cut them back with the lethal slash of her iron edged will. She had to be strong, to be the family's keeper. Doing what had to be done, as she always did. Taylor needed Annette, Shatterbird had nearly taken her mother away. Annette had picked her name for the second time, and she wasn't going to change it again.