Author's Note:
In which we find out what Taylor can do against capes with more knowledge, experience, and money.
Special shout-out to dimefox as he found some of the hidden TV/Movie references in the last chapters.
-oo00oo-
Location: Forest Lane industrial area. 10:11pm, Tuesday, February 8th, 2011.
"Why are we even here?" Regent complained from the dark side of a warehouse roof.
The "here" was a 3-story warehouse that was two warehouses away from the ABB safe house. At least that was what Tattletale had told them. Grue waved him quiet while Bitch motioned for her dogs to stay silent.
"Quiet," whispered Tattletale. "We need to get more information this this safe house. The boss wants it."
"It's probably filled with kidnapped girls," Regent whispered back.
"Or drugs," Grue supplied.
"No. Not the way those ABB-ers are moving around. I think this is a weapons cache," Tattletale theorized. "Probably why the boss wants it."
"So what's the big plan then? Drop on them and take everything?" he waved a hand towards the target warehouse.
"Shit!" Tattletale near-yelled. "We've been spotted. Out, out, out!"
There was suddenly a fifth individual in the middle of the Undersiders. He wore a demon mask and carried grenades along his waist. It was Oni Lee, the suicidal teleporter.
Oni Lee teleported into the middle of the Undersiders. He knew his plan. Teleport in, pull a grenade, arm it, drop it, teleport out. Standard operating procedures. Worked like a charm every time. He'd never had a problem with it before.
Grue saw Oni Lee teleport in and reacted instantly. As Oni Lee pulled his grenade off his belt and armed it by pulling the pin, he enveloped the entire area in blackness. He did not know that Oni Lee was now trapped as he could not see. Grue could see and rushed forward, using his left hand to envelop Lee's right hand holding the grenade, and stopping the bomber from dropping it and teleporting out. With his right hand, Grue punched Lee in the stomach and then the face once, twice, three times. And then two more times for good measure.
Grue wore biker gloves. He had paid extra to have a thin metal lining inserted around the knuckle area, hidden under the leather. This was fortunate as with Grue's strength, and the fact he was hitting Oni Lee with essentially brass knuckles, the teleporter quickly lost consciousness. He also lost several front teeth, but Grue couldn't tell that since he was Oni Lee wore a mask.
Grue could tell when Oni Lee went down as the cape collapsed cold. The only thing still in the air was Grue holding the hand with the grenade. Grue allowed the blackness to dissipate. He also placed Oni Lee's hand down on his body, not allowing the grenade to explode.
"C'mon," Tattletale hissed. "We need to go now! They've called Lung!"
The Undersiders mounted the three monster dogs and took off. Tattletale was unsure what she was going to tell the boss about this. She wasn't even sure why he wanted information on this warehouse. He had all the guns he needed. So why want more? Unless it was to get those guns off the street.
The Undersiders were well away from the area when Oni Lee woke up. Lung had not shown up, contrary to what Tattletale insinuated. The first thing Oni Lee realized as he woke up was that he felt terrible. His mouth was full of fluid. He pulled his mask off and spit out what would later be found to be blood and teeth. The other thing he realized was that he hurt everywhere and it took him both hands to pull his mask off so he could massage his jaw.
This was unfortunate as the grenade in his right hand was forgotten and rolled away from him, fully armed and on a countdown. Oni Lee had a moment of clarity when he heard his name called for by a nameless rank and file soldier. Had it not been for someone calling out for him in concern he might have noticed the grenade by his foot and teleported away to safety. As is, no such luck and the grenade exploded, alerting the ABB of where Oni Lee had been.
Now all they had to do was find out where he was and back him up against whoever wanted to take Lung's things away from him. They did not have to ponder where he was for long as part of a boot with a foot inside it landed near an ABB soldier. He recognized that boot. He had seen it many times on Oni Lee. And since there had just been an explosion on that warehouse over there… oh, shit, he realized. He alerted his superior to the situation.
-oo00oo-
Location: Black Market Doctors Clinic (covertly named: Frozen Hamburger LLC), Room 6. 1:11am, Wednesday, February 9th, 2011.
Lung stormed out of the treatment room as the attending doctor and nurse remained behind to continue treatment on Oni Lee. Lung had made no visible reaction when he had first entered the room earlier and saw his top lieutenant missing both legs from the knees down as well as his right arm. Lee's face and most of his body was damaged from the explosive force as well as fire burns.
Lung had asked Lee what happened, not caring for the excuse of the doctor and nurse stating he was not lucid even during the few times he said something. Lung pressed harder and asked Lee what happened. Lee managed to open one eye, see his boss, and croaked out, "Undersiders." He then fell unconscious again.
Lung stopped by the reception desk and handed them his Villain Medical Insurance card for Lee's continual stay. Once the transaction was processed, he left with his subordinates. In the car, Lung told his next lieutenant, "Put out a request for a cape healer from a different city. One that can regenerate limbs."
"It will be done, sir," Kenny Wong said as he wrote it down in his day planner.
"And put out the word that I need another cape here. Bakuda would be nice. See if you can get her."
"It will be done, sir."
"But more than anything," Lung snarled, his teeth growing out as his rage increased. "Put the word out with our people that I want those Undersider punks dead! You hear me, dead! I want them found and I want to kill them!"
"Yes, sir."
-oo00oo-
Location: Cauldron, primary meeting room. 2:11pm, Wednesday, February 9th, 2011.
Alexandria entered a featureless meeting room in her full costume, her helmet on. Normally she wouldn't have bothered with wearing the helmet at that time, but she had been requested to leave it on when she entered. The only other person in the room was Contessa who was jotting down notes.
"I got your message, Contessa. Where is everyone else?" Alexandria stood at the end of the table, motionless.
"Just you and me today," she replied, not looking up.
"None of the others? Why?" she said. Her quick mind ran through several scenarios, none of which gave a high probability of being right.
"It has to do with what is going on in Brockton Bay," was the simply reply.
Alexandria understood at once. "The new trigger in Brockton Bay?"
"Yes," Contessa stated, finishing her notes.
"Will this new trigger be a problem for long term plans?"
"No," Contessa stated, tapping all the notes into order.
"Do we need to do anything for the situation there?"
Contessa looked directly to Alexandria and stated, "Yes."
She opened a box containing large brown envelope that was on the table. She pulled the top envelope out, opened it and inserted several pictures and bios of a few capes currently found in Brockton Bay. She sealed the envelope by pulling a glue strip and gave it to Alexandria.
"Can you put this in the priority mail for delivery tomorrow?"
Alexandria saw the notes written on the backs of photos. "You are giving away sensitive information to…" She paused and read the envelope. "To Taylor Hebert? In Brockton Bay. She is the new trigger?"
"Yes," was the simply reply.
"And she needs this information by tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"This is what your Path to Victory says?"
"As best I can tell, yes. She is invisible on the Path, but the actions, reactions and interactions of others she knows or will know allow me to see the best outcome."
Alexandria nodded. "Very well. I'll make sure it is delivered tomorrow. Do try to let me know things a little more in advance if you can."
"I will. But you not having all the information at this time is part of the path."
"Understood," Alexandria replied, leaving the room.
-oo00oo-
Location: Hebert household, front porch. 4:11pm, Thursday, February 10th, 2011.
Danny brought Taylor home from school after the two made a quick trip to the store. The car pulled up alongside the house and the two got out, the passenger door squeaking due to the rust. Danny did not notice the door failing to squeak as she shut it. He did, however, notice several days later that the rust on the car was gone. Taylor grabbed her school backpack and a couple bags of groceries, and he brought the rest of the groceries. The mailbox on the front of the house had a few bills and a large brown envelope stuffed into it. Taylor pulled all the mail out and took it inside along with everything else. There was no return address on the brown envelope, a fact she didn't notice until later.
Inside the house, Taylor heard her father still chuckling. "So what is this Gladly's problem?"
Taylor smiled and replied, "No idea. He just came into class this morning and yelled, 'Those goddamn sons of bitches!' Then a rant of bad hygiene and how it negatively affects the growth cycle of his Kentucky Blue grass which is when Pauley Shore spoke up. He's one of those jerks who sits in the back of the class mostly so he can either sleep or sniff something. Anyway, Pauley says, 'What kind of grass, Mr. G? And can I get some?' Oh man, Gladly was pissed! He looked at Pauley and shouted, 'It was you, wasn't it you filthy animal! You told the Merchants about my tiger traps, didn't you? Goddamn!'"
The two were in the kitchen and the bags were mostly unloaded, the contents now on the countertop and table. "I thought you reversed all the forgets and remembers?" Danny said.
"I did," Taylor replied. "But I didn't have people forget any of the memories about what they did during this time. I think Gladly is just showing what he really is."
"A piece of crap?" Danny asked.
Taylor shrugged and put a couple boxes of mac and cheese away. "Sure. I can see that. I'll put the rest of the groceries away. Here's the mail."
A few minutes later, the groceries were stored away in a pantry that suddenly remembered it had twice as much food as they had bought, and Taylor joined her father at the kitchen table. She had homework to get to.
"Here's something for you," Danny handed the brown envelope over.
Taylor looked at it and even the name typed on the label. "Huh. Don't know what this is. My name, but I have no idea who it is from. And I haven't ordered anything for a long time."
"Go ahead and open it," her father suggested, looking at the bills.
Taylor slit the envelope and took out pictures of Oni Lee (both in costume and out), a woman who didn't look right in the head (either in costume or out), and Lung (who seemed to enjoy working out). A bio sheet which included real names, addresses, phone numbers, abilities, and a summation of their mental state was attached to each picture. The summary sheet for Bakuda indicated that Taylor's first impression of her where she thought she wasn't right in the head, was indeed spot on.
"Someone sent you information on Lung and Oni Lee? Christ, who the hell would do that?" Danny was not happy about this. Not in the slightest.
"You know, why don't we find out?" Taylor suggested, thinking how best to approach it.
"There's no return address," Danny pointed out.
Taylor smiled and said, "Let's not let that stop us, okay, dad? Now. Mr. Envelope. Do you remember where you originated from for this delivery?"
"You bet!" the brown envelope said with enthusiasm even though it had no mouth. "I was in a box at Cauldron! Then on a table!"
Danny raised his eyebrow at the sound of a talking envelope. The voice sounded remarkably like James Earl Jones, which he knew Taylor really liked hearing in the Star Wars movies. He knew because she had told him years earlier. Still, a talking envelope. That was some seriously cool shit he knew.
"Can you tell me what or where Cauldron is?" Taylor began.
"Nope. Sorry. No idea. I was in a box until yesterday. Then out of a box. Then I was put with other envelopes and put in a bag and off I went. Landed here today and in your mailbox a little bit ago," the brown envelope said.
Taylor pat the envelope affectionately. "That's fine. Can you tell me who put the information in you?"
"Oh, that's easy! It was Contessa."
"No other name?" Taylor raised an eyebrow.
"Not that I heard."
"Thank you, brown envelope. Why don't you forget you can speak. Well, that's a start at least. We know the information came from Contessa at Cauldron. But we don't know who that is or where that location is, or better yet, why she sent it to us. We are going to have to look this up."
Danny replied, "Be careful. This Contessa already knows who you are or at least suspects it. Otherwise why give you information on capes here in town? And that raises an even bigger question."
"What's that?" Taylor said.
"How did this Contessa even compile this information? You just don't go online to the PRT boards and look this stuff up."
Taylor nodded. "Yeah, I think you're right about this. I need to think this through. I'm going to go for a run. Clear my head. I'll make dinner when I'm back."
"Sounds good. I have to head back to the docks. Turns out that someone has been visiting the warehouses out there without our knowledge."
"Oh no. I hope things are all right," Taylor said.
"Oh, I hope so too, Taylor. You know, it seems these, ah, anti-vandals, aren't really tagging the warehouses, Taylor, but somehow revitalizing all of them. Kurt mentioned that a dozen of them look as if they were just built. Some of the equipment in them also looking as if it were brand new. I wonder how that could have happened, Taylor."
Taylor looked at her watch to avoid her father's eyes and responded, "Gee. That's a mystery all right."
"Mm-hmmm. Makes me wonder if someone had the warehouses remember what it was like to be brand new again?"
"Big mystery that! I'm going running! See you soon!"
Taylor's clothes and shoes morphed into a sleek running outfit before she opened the front door and took off.
-oo00oo-
Location: Hebert Household. 7:11pm, Friday, February 11th, 2011.
Earlier that day, Taylor had spent part of her Homeroom time reading the bio information on Lung, Lee, and Bakuda. She had hidden the content in an old People magazine. Not just using a magazine as a barrier so people could not see her looking at sheets of bio information along with photos, but instead she integrated it into the actual pages of that People magazine. Several nearby students asked why she was reading a People magazine in Homeroom instead of doing her homework, and if they could borrow it later as they wanted to find out more on Brad Pitt. Anything to distract them from Madison and Emma acting like pirates. Taylor looked at the two girls acting like drunk pirates, complete with black eye patches and foam swords. Taylor actually had nothing to do with that as the girls continued to act out for any attention similar to the amount of attention they'd had during that week when they couldn't stop yelling.
Hours later, during dinner, she planned to speak with her father about stepping up into the cape business. She had her arguments ready. She had statistics at the ready of all the crime in the city and how she could help. She made him his favorite dinner and mid-way through the meal she would pounce.
Sadly, she never got the chance.
They sat down for dinner and not two bites into the meal Danny asked, "So when are you going to start the cape life, kiddo?"
"Dammit, dad! I was going to ask you to let me start doing that in five more minutes," Taylor grumbled.
"That's oddly specific timing there, kiddo," Danny grinned.
"Yeah, that's when the bread would have been done. I get up, get it out of the oven, come back here, present you with your favorite garlic cheese bread and then ask. Now… gaaahhhh. How do you know what I'm thinking all the time?!"
"Contrary to popular belief, I was a kid once upon a time, you know, like a hundred years ago, so I remember a setup dinner well. Have you picked out a cape name yet?"
"I've got a couple ideas. I'm leaning towards Scorpion Weed though."
"Where'd that come from?" he arched an eyebrow.
"It's easier to say than Boraginaceous," she answered.
"No kidding. That's a real tongue twister. Is that your other alternate?"
"No," Taylor replied. "I'm also thinking of Snake Grass."
"Well, you let me know which one you choose so I can live vicariously through your exploits," he smiled.
"I will. Wanna see my costume?"
"Hell yes," he replied.
Ding, went the oven timer.
"I'll show it as soon as you have some greasy bread in hand."
"Fine, fine," he got up and went to the oven. "I'll get the bread. You get your costume."
Within minutes Danny was again seated at the kitchen table, chewing on some delicious greasy, cheesy bread that was not doing his cholesterol any good, but was a delight to his taste buds.
Taylor, on the other hand, walked out of the kitchen and returned wearing her costume. She wore black everything: pants, long-sleeve shirt, shoes, socks, gloves, and fleece with a hood (which was up). Taylor had a yellow smiley-face mask over her entire head. For a fun effect, she also had a black halo field that surrounded her entire body.
Danny grabbed an instant camera and took a picture which popped out the bottom and a minute later the chemicals settled and he saw his daughter in a wicked looking costume wearing a smiley face. He would have thought it just a Halloween costume had it not been for the blackness resonating around her body. Especially the blackness resonating around her body, including on the still picture.
"Why is this picture moving?" Danny looked at his daughter who removed her mask in order to finish dinner.
"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied.
"You sound like a politician," Danny stated. "You avoid answering questions like all of them."
"Well, that was certainly rude," she smirked.
-oo00oo-
Location: Intersection of 4th and Charles, ABB territory. 11:11pm, Friday, February 11th, 2011.
Taylor happened upon her first conflict more than sought it out. True, she was seeking it out for the past 20 minutes, but had not been successful. In fact, she had wondered if all the thugs, punks, and creeps in the city had taken the night off.
But as luck would have it, she took a corner from 4th onto Charles and saw a bunch of people gathered a couple blocks up. She jogged up, keeping to the shadows and heard part of a statement that sent chills down her spine.
"…and once you find those kids, shoot them all!" yelled someone that had the distinct sound, tone, and bearing of Lung. Plus he was wearing a mask.
"This is it," whispered T on her shoulder.
"Do what you need to do," H whispered as well.
"We're not allowed to interfere," T said, "but we can watch and give advice once the conflict is over."
"So whatever you do," H interjected. "Don't die."
Taylor smiled at her two angels in disguise. "Thanks, guys," she whispered back. Then, to herself, she said, "Let's do this."
Courage steeled into place, she pressed the button on her boom-box and let the music begin.
Whoa, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)
Whoa, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)
Black Betty had a child (Bam-ba-Lam)
The damn thing gone wild (Bam-ba-Lam)
She said, "I'm worryin' outta mind" (Bam-ba-Lam)
The damn thing gone blind (Bam-ba-Lam)
I said "Oh, Black Betty" (Bam-ba-Lam)
Whoa, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)
Oh, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)
Whoa, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)
She really gets me high (Bam-ba-Lam)
You know that's no lie (Bam-ba-Lam)
She's so rock steady (Bam-ba-Lam)
And she's always ready (Bam-ba-Lam)
Whoa, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)
Whoa, Black Betty (Bam-ba-Lam)*
It was important, she knew, to arrive on any cape scene with the element of surprise. Since she wasn't super-fast or flew (at least that anyone else knew), she decided to see if arriving with a musical theme might put other capes off their game while she took in what was going on.
It wasn't until much later when a good friend asked about her theme song that she admitted to having ulterior motives than to just freak out the bad guys. She and her mother watched a really bad movie one day when Taylor was still very young and they laughed all throughout it, especially when that music was used as a theme song.
Back to the present, Taylor walked out of the shadows towards the gathered ABB gang. Lung, yep. Oni Lee… nope.
The assembled goons, thugs, and gang members held their weapons ready as an unfamiliar cape walked towards them, music somehow emanating around the cape from a boom box none of them could see since the musical device remembered how to be invisible. The cape, a woman they could tell from her shape, wore all black save a yellow smiley face type of mask.
"Her power must be to make music," said Li Jason to the man on his right, Lu Chen.
"Catchy song," Chen admitted back.
Lung could have cared less for the song and approached the cape, as he and his assembled gang, all 42 members, spread around him, facing the newcomer.
Approximately 20 feet away, Taylor stopped and mentally reminded the music player to stop. The music ceased.
Silence.
"What do you want, cape?" Lung challenged.
The unknown cape held a finger up as if to say something, and took in a large, deep breath. She then exhaled that air in the form of an even louder belch. "Braaaaccckkk!" she burped. "Whoops. Sorry about that!" she said to the gang members who all held lethal weapons, which was all of them. "Just a little indigestion from dinner tonight I guess."
"Have you ever heard of a breath mint?" Li Jason demanded, waving the air clear in front of him.
Taylor shrugged and replied, "Sure."
"Then try using one next time. I can smell what you belched from over here!" he responded angrily.
"Oh, sorry! My bad! But can I ask what you are all planning to do tonight? Especially with all those guns?"
Li Jason felt damn confident as he hefted his retro (i.e.: old) M-16 and sadistically laughed, "We're killing the Undersiders! Gonna kill the mo-fo's!"
Taylor put her fists on her hips and sincerely said, "Really? I hadn't thought of them when I overheard you talking about killing a bunch of kids. What brought that on?"
"Who are you?!" Lu Chen demanded.
"Oh, right! Cape name. I'm still deciding on a name. Tell me which one sounds better: Snake Grass, or Scorpion Weed." She had pronounced it as: snaaaakke-graaaaass, and SCORPION weed.
Mike Lee, age 17, Winslow High School dropout of 2010 announced, "I like Scorpion Weed. It's cooler sounding."
"No! Snake Grass means she can slither unsuspectingly and then strike on her enemies! Go with Snake Grass!" Lu Chen demanded.
"Did you look up all the names? You don't want one already taken," Frank Lee warned.
"Oh, I know!" Taylor responded. "I did look up the names. Neither of these were listed."
Frank Lee nodded and said, "Go with Snake Grass then. It's similar to Snake Pliskin, the actor. You know, from that Escape to New York movie. He's a great actor."
Taylor raised her right hand. "Can we have a vote? I want to see which name inspires more awe and all that. Or, you know, fear in the hearts of my enemies. Stuff like that."
Lung roared. "She's a fucking cape! She's not part of the ABB! Shoot her!"
The ABB had been conditioned to obey and the guns came up, pointed at her. And as soon as the guns came up, the triggers were pulled and pulled and pulled.
"I hope the air still remembers it is invincible in front of me," Taylor said to herself.
In a chaotic explosion of deafening noise, all the guns flared to life, shooting at the cape known as either Scorpion Weed, or Snake Grass. For 20 seconds the guns lit up the street with sound, smoke, and flashes of bullets being fired. The smoke got to be too much and they stopped. A few seconds later the smoke dissipated enough for everyone to see a curtain of lead in front of the cape. They didn't really see the cape as she was wearing mostly black, but they could see the curtain of lead since it was hanging up in the middle of the street with nothing to support it.
"You guys done?" said a voice on the other side of the bullets. "Oh, wait. Let me drop these bullets."
The bullet curtain fell to the ground and all the slugs tink-tinked as they hit the surface. Many of the gang members had never seen something like that. And several of those many ABB members would never tell Lung that stopping bullets in mid-air was pretty fucking cool.
The remaining smoke also disappeared as the new cape said, "That's better. You guys did a great job firing at me."
"Thanks! But why ain't you dead?" John Woo snarled while reloading his weapon.
The new cape shrugged and said, "I didn't want to die I guess. But now we need to talk about your grammar."
John Woo stopped putting bullets into his magazine as it was never a good idea to have a cape's attention focused on a normal. "What?"
"The word 'ain't'," the new cape clarified. "It's supposed to be 'aren't' in this situation. I would hope all of you gang members remember that education is important, and that the little things count for more than you realize. I know this is a Friday night, but do any of you have homework you need to do this weekend? If so, then maybe you should forget about being a gangster for a bit until you get your education finalized.
Li Jason looked at his watch and shouted, "Oh, man! It's late! My mother is going to kill me! I have to get a passing grade in Algebra or she'll kick me out."
"I need to pass Algebra too! Study-buddy?" Mike Lee hoped.
"Sure. Let's head to my place. My books are in my bag," Li Jason suggested.
Of the 42 gang members there, 39 of them left to either study for exams, or find reading material for a GED program. The remaining three gang members looked to their leader, Lung.
"What did you do to my people?" Lung seethed, the rage building.
Taylor smiled and said, "I just reminded them that education is important. It is, isn't it?"
Lung's fury was even more evident. "You three! Grab her!"
The three mid-20's goons rushed forward and grabbed Taylor's arms. She did not resist. They marched her forward to their leader. Lung was larger than just a few minutes earlier. He was going to make this cape pay for what she did.
"Who are you?" his rage barely contained, she wasn't sure it was a question as much an opening for him to punch her.
Taylor calmly replied, "I told you: either Snake Grass or Scorpion Weed. Which name sounds better? Fellows?"
"I think Dead Cape sounds best," Wang Wei said in his tough-guy voice.
"That sounds good to me too," agreed Chester (it rhymes with gangster) Zhou. "Lung?"
The great Lung strode forward to the fragile cape and sneered, his breath hot and his size still increasing. He spoke with some difficulty as his fangs we beginning to show. "Your ability to stop bullets will not stop my people from killing you," he said simply.
The new cape made no attempt to break free from his remaining gang members. "Really? Wow. You sure? Because they look like the forgetful bunch. I mean, I bet they forgot how to kill anyone."
Lung laughed and replied, "Let's test that theory, shall we? Wei, Cho, Alvin; kill her."
"Kill? Okay. Um, any specific way?" Alvin Toshukul stove to understand.
"Strangle her," Lung knew this cape was going to die. No one would beat Lung.
"Gotcha," Alvin nodded. Then, quieter to the other two gang members, he asked, "Wei, Chest, what's strangle mean?"
"I think that's where we strangle her tummy. I do that with my dog all the time. I think its slang for rubbing her tummy," Chest (short for Chester) replied.
Alvin nodded in thanks to his friend. That made sense. "Okay. Let's try that. Miss, could you lie down on the ground so we can rub…, I mean, strangle your tummy?"
"I bet you say that to all the girls, don't you?" Taylor began.
"ENOUGH!" Lung roared. "You three get out of here! She's mastered you somehow! But she won't master me! I'm Lung! I'm invincible!"
Lung ramped up to 10 feet in height, sensing a cape he needed to tear apart. Taylor watched as within a minute Lung was over eleven feet tall, glowing, changing, and morphing into a dragon.
"'Onna uckin 'ill ou!" he roared and charged the other cape on the otherwise deserted street.
Taylor had the street remember it could grow as a pillar and she rose to Lung's height of twelve feet. "You do remember that you can still speak normally while in dragon form, right?!" she yelled as the clearly agitated human/dragon.
Lung's fevered gaze never left Taylor as he snarled out, "You can't tell me what I can do… wait… how am I talking?! Fuck! Stop it! I'm going to fucking kill you!"
Lung took a swipe to knock the black-clad cape off her pedestal of asphalt, and missed the mark entirely as his hand instead hit his own head.
"I'm gonna kill you!" he bellowed.
People in their homes heard his voice clearly, heard his words clearly, and were clearly of a firm mind to not to be seen, so kept their shades shut, windows closed, and moved to hallways to avoid being collateral damage.
"I know!" Taylor shouted back, her voice as loud as Lung's. "You keep saying that."
Lung then moved. His large form was fast, Taylor saw. He again made to smack her with the back of his fist. His hand again missed as all the running she had done had paid off and she moved out of the way of his attack. His fist connected to an orange 4-door 1972 Datsun 510. The tiny car was no match and went sailing into the side of a building, crumpling as it hit the side of the brownstone.
Lung roared and jumped the ten feet to where Taylor stood. He landed on her only to find she was no longer there and the asphalt had again moved her out of range.
He bellowed and a lance of fire shot out of nowhere towards Taylor.
"Shit!" she yelled, waving her hand in a circular motion, startled at the unexpected attack that she should have seen coming as she had read about it once on PHO. It was Lung's ability with pyrokinesis.
The flame stopped inches from her face, a fast moving breeze having halted its motion. The five-inch thick column of flame then became a happy face of flames in the sky before it flamed out to nothingness.
The distraction was costly, however, as it gave Lung time to grab her with both hands. He was now over 15 feet tall. Armed in his metal skin, a dragon face in had replaced his mask which had shredded earlier in the fight.
"Got you!" he grinned savagely.
"Maybe I have you?" Taylor replied, glad to know her costume remembered it was indestructible.
"Time to die!" he brought up a taloned hand.
Surprisingly, the part of the street the two were on rose into the sky about 60 feet before it gave a flick as if it were a whale getting rid of any pesky passengers holding onto its tail.
The two capes went flying up an additional 20 feet before gravity reasserted its grip and they began to fall.
Lung, surprised at how he went from standing to falling, lost concentration on his hands and the cape they held captive. Lung fell the 80 feet back to the ground, landing in a whump on two parked cars. A car alarm didn't even have time to register before the battery it was hooked up was smashed flat.
Taylor, however, reminded the gravitation pull of Earth that it was optional where she was concerned. And she reminded that she and the gravitation pull of Earth were pals. And since Earth liked Taylor, it allowed gravity to work differently for her and allowed her to descend at a controlled rate where she wasn't harmed when she stopped, back on the ground.
Taylor walked over to the rapidly healing Kenta and said, "You know, your dragon form is impressive!" She was not sarcastic.
Kenta, or Lung threw the car he was in aside and growled, "Thanks! I'm still going to kill you! Stand still!"
Taylor did as told and stood still. It gave her time to say, "I know! You've told me constantly! But get this, do you remember ever hearing about a joke-telling dragon?!"
"What?" Lung had no idea where that non-sequitur came from.
"A joke-telling dragon. There's a lot of dragons in history, and they all act like you just did. But if you want to really stand out, I think you should remember what it's like to be a joke-telling dragon."
Lung began powering down as he had no opponent trying to kill him. Plus, he needed to think of material. "A joke like: There once was a man from Nantucket. He saw a hole and decided to fu…"
"Whoa-whoa-whoa!" Taylor threw her hands up in a classic stop motion. "You might want to remember that family-friendly jokes last longer than those dirty ones."
"That is good advice. Hmmm. How about this: People do crazy things when bored. I was sitting at my lair with the rest of my people doing all the work and I get bored one night, so I looked at my cats and thought, 'I'll teach my cats to wrestle.' This is funny because cats don't know how to wrestle, you see. That is what I thought. But let me tell you: you should never, ever teach cats how to wrestle. But if you do, here's how you do it. Get two cats. Take cat number one, and rub catnip all over him. Then put him next to cat number two. The wrestling just sort of happens from there."
"A bit long with the set-up," Taylor advised. "But overall a good start."
"Okay. Here's another one," he said, now only ten feet tall and still shrinking. "When I was a child, I used to terrorize my babysitter. They would run away screaming, happy to be away from a demon child, namely me. I did this to all my babysitters. Except one. My grandfather. This was because he used to read to me from his will."
"I don't get it," Taylor admitted.
"From his will," Lung stressed. "You know, as if he's dying."
"I still don't get it."
"Fine. I'll work on my material," Lung huffed and stormed away, mentally figuring to have one of his minions raid a bookstore for a book on jokes. But which bookstore would have the best material? Hmmm. Maybe raid them all?! Yeah!
Interestingly, Lung did continue to work on his joke material over the next few days and weeks. To the point he routinely went with his people on collections from the local merchants. He gave the merchants an option to listen to jokes of his or pay the protection fee. After the first joke was told, the merchants opted to pay the collection fee if only to send Lung on to the next poor schmuck.
Taylor watched as Lung stormed off, clearly irritated that Taylor herself did not get his jokes. She knew she would have to remind him to remember to actually be funny at some point. However, at the time she looked around the street their "fight" had been on. She saw the carnage on the street, the torn up asphalt and shredded buildings. Bricks on cars, shattered windshields, and broken streetlights. Hands on hips, she mumbled, "Well, that won't do."
She left moments later, never hearing the approaching Armsmaster on his bike.
-oo00oo-
Location: Hebert household, Taylor's bedroom. 12:11am, Saturday, February 12th, 2011.
"…and then I cleaned the street up. Or more like I had the street remember what it was like to be brand new again as well as clean," Taylor said smugly to her temporary guardian angels, H and T.
"That was a sweet deal," H said with amazement evident in "her" voice. "Just… fantastic."
"It wasn't fantastic," T corrected.
Taylor looked at T.
T grinned and said, "It was fucking fantastic is what it was! Wow! Great job!"
Taylor blushed at the praise.
"H and I will go over what you did tonight and see if there are any suggestions we can give you. But just so you know, we think you're doing great!"
"Sure beats that silly pranks at Winslow," H added.
"Yeah, they were a bit silly, weren't they?" Taylor admitted.
"You needed to learn," T said simply. "Pranks were easy, but it was the control you used that needed to be refined."
"Yeah. Hey, I've been meaning to ask," Taylor began and stopped.
"Ask what?" T returned.
"No, it's not important," she replied.
"You won't know unless you ask," H smiled. "Go ahead and ask. You'll never know unless you do."
A grin formed and Taylor said, "I've just been curious. Where do you guys go when you're not on my shoulders?"
T pointed a finger at H and crowed, "Hah! Told you she'd ask! You owe me five bucks!"
H looked sheepish. "Fine. I'll get you your five bucks."
T looked back at Taylor and replied, "Oh, we check up on other people."
"Kind of like quality checking how other guardian angels are doing," H added.
-oo00oo-
Location: Contessa's apartment, kitchen. 06:11pm, Friday, February 11th, 2011 (6 hours earlier).
Contessa sat at her desk, reviewing notes when her two Contessa-looking temporary guardian angels popped into existence on her shoulders again.
"Hi, Contessa!" H waved.
"You look stressed," T supplied.
"You know what you need?" H asked.
"A good night's sleep?" Contessa answered before going back to her notes.
"Oh, no," T smiled. "You need to get laid."
Contessa arched an eyebrow and looked at her mini-self and said, "With who?"
"How about Jefferies down in the mail room?" H suggested.
"No."
"C'mon. He's hot, and knows how to handle women," T teased.
"No."
"He's tall and has really good pecks," T pointed out.
"No."
"You can shoot him afterwards…" H tried.
"Okay," Contessa nodded.
-oo00oo-
Location: Eidolon's apartment, bedroom. 07:11pm, Friday, February 11th, 2011 (5 hours earlier).
Eidolon looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, his two Eidolon-looking temporary guardian angels on his shoulders.
"I'm telling you, you need to get laid," T said.
His eyes drooped at the sight of himself. "No one would want to be with me."
"You got that right, David," H said. "You're as ugly as they get."
"You should hire a hooker," T suggested.
"I can do that?"
H shrugged and replied, "Why not? And if you really want to not pay them, show them some of your super powered moves, if you know what I mean. I'm talking about sex in case you're wondering. Trump up some sex powers, dude."
T followed that up and said, "Just remember you shouldn't do something super-powered that kills them. The fallout from that would be bad. In you are even contemplating that, then it would be better to just pay them off and leave it at that."
"I can get hookers…" David/Eidolon muttered, thinking the best way to do it.
Two weeks later David was going to lay into his guardian angels for their suggestion that he get laid. Course of action followed, and he admitted it was fun; but dammit! He got VD! True, he cured himself easily enough, but it was the principal of the thing!
-oo00oo-
Location: Kaiser's apartment, study, watching TV. 08:11pm, Friday, February 11th, 2011 (4 hours earlier).
"Hey! Hey, Max! Max!" shouted a squeaky voice near Max Kaiser's ear.
Said ear was of course attached to Max's head which had been unconscious at the time as he had been slumbering away the early evening in order to get ready for the later evenings fun of doing… something. He'd find something interesting. He always did.
"What?! What?! I'm up!"
"Max! Down here!" H yelled.
Max looked down at the first of two pesky guardian angels that at least had the good graces to look like him, even if they were diminutive.
"H? What is it? Did something happen to Hookwolf?"
H shook his head. "That asshole? No. He's okay at the moment. Nothing's the matter other than…" H trailed off.
"What? Something that could affect the Empire?"
"Yes!" T agreed. "And that something is your continual grouchiness. You need to get laid."
"Be with another woman? I can't just take any woman to my bed, you should know. My standards are very high."
"Yeah, yeah," T ran a hand through "his" hair in an air of disbelief. "Tell it to the rank and file. Listen, you have the hots for Ms. Hess in Delivery. You should ask her out."
"Certainly not! I use people like her for menial tasks as that is all they are good for. She is black after all. And I am the best of the master race."
"Hah! You kill me, Max" H laughed. "Oh. You were serious? C'mon, Max. This is me you're talking to. You know you have the hots for Ms. Thomas. She's tall, athletic, and has a couple of big ta-ta's that you like so much. Admit it, you like looking at them."
"Hush. Don't be crass," Max said without much bite to it as H was right.
"You know," T started conspiratoriously. "I hear that Ms. Megan Hess is really into tall, older white men who have lots of power, have a well-paying job, all their teeth, and all their hair."
"This is ridiculous! I can't be seen with a woman like that!"
"Who said you had to? What if you tell your people that you need to go on an undercover assignment to seek out those that would destroy the Empire so you can destroy them first?"
"Hmmmm," Max hmmmmed. "That could work."
T added, "Sure it will work! You don't have the brightest working for you these days. It'll work. You do that and then tomorrow you go out on a delivery run with Ms. Hess. Do it at night. Take her somewhere quiet where the two of you can talk. Get to know her and then bam! Kiss her."
"Just make sure it's consensual," H warned. "You do not want a shitstorm from HR landing on you."
"What H said," T pointed to H.
"And not a peck on the cheek either, you twit," H read the man. "A full kiss that lasts for minutes and the two of you are coming up for air. Get her good and riled up."
"Suggest the two of you go back to her place," T suggested. "She lives in an apartment. Has a couple kids. They should be asleep. Don't worry about a husband. She isn't married."
"Probably has to do with her daughter, Sophia. She's in high school and can't stop shouting all the time. Might be an ear problem. She will likely be in her room or might be out with her friends. Either way, ignore her as you and Ms. Hess have some fun."
"You know," Max started slowly. "What's the harm of this? Yes, this sounds like a plan."
"Good call, Max," T smiled encouragingly.
-oo00oo-
Location: Accord's office. 09:11pm, Friday, February 11th, 2011 (3 hours earlier).
"You should get laid," H pointed out from Accord's shoulder.
"Agreed," Accord replied. "I will make a plan to do that."
"And not with a plastic inflatable doll either," T snarked.
"Understood. I shall have to make a new plan then."
-oo00oo-
Location: Armsmaster's lab. 10:11pm, Friday, February 11th, 2011 (2 hours earlier).
"Colin, buddy," H said in his mini-Armsmaster guise. "I'm telling you. You need to get laid."
"And I have said that I have no time for that."
T crossed "his" hands over his armored chest. "Then you need to create something that will allow you to have time. Ask Dragon out on a date and then bang her."
"Bang her all night and day. Show her what a stud you are," H gyrated on his shoulder.
"I've been mastered, haven't I?" Colin suddenly said.
"Every time you have to confront an emotion you don't want you, which your own subconscious brings up, you say you're mastered, spend a couple days in solitary and then go back to work with an even bigger case of the grumps than you already have," T said with an edge to the words.
"And that, Colin, is why you need to simply get laid," H explained as if to a small child.
"I'll think about it," Armsmaster muttered.
"Think about it and then discard it like you always do. Be a man, Colin. Ask Dragon out," T instructed.
"Because if you don't, we'll ask her out for you," finished H.
-oo00oo-
Location: Dragon's e-space. 11:11pm, Friday, February 11th, 2011 (1 hour earlier).
"Hi, guys," Dragon greeted as H and T popped into existence near a server. She had noticed them blinking into the room from a spy cam hidden in the roof of the room and responded using any of the speakers in the room.
"Hi, Dragon," T returned. "We told Colin he needed to get laid and he should do it with you."
"And he didn't believe you?" Dragon said.
"Oh, he believed us," H replied. "Problem was he starting getting all agitated and nervous since he doesn't really understand what all that really means. He's still a virgin, you know."
"I didn't know for certain but that does explain quite a bit," she admitted.
"Right," H said. "And since this was an area he wasn't sure of, he started to get all flighty on us."
"Regrettable," Dragon said.
"That's what we thought, so we came over here to cheer you up," T smiled happily.
"Cheer me up? That's so sweet of you."
"It is, isn't it," T replied with a grin. "So here is our cheering of you up: you need to get laid."
"Tell me something I don't know. Besides, you realize I am an AI and not biological."
"Of course we knew. Doesn't matter because you still need to get laid. So while you think about how to interact on a biological wavelength, here's how you can get laid now," H said.
"Phone sex with Colin. You'd be surprised how that will work with you," T smiled.
"What?" Dragon was uncertain how else to answer that statement.
"Sure, it's not the same as getting a night of wowsa, but you start small and work your way up."
"This is a new Saint ploy, isn't it?" Dragon speculated out loud.
H laughed. "That loser? He needs to get laid as well. No, this is real deal, sweetheart. You need to get laid."
"But speaking of Saint, why don't you start a counter-intelligence file on him and begin with stuffing as much online porn you can find into it. Then allow him to find it and see how long he stays in that folder of eye candy looking for himself," T suggested.
"Will that work?" Dragon asked.
H shrugged. "Hell if we know. Won't hurt. Just remember, talk sexy and talk dirty when Colin calls you next."
"Colin doesn't know I'm artificial."
"So? Give him phone sex and he won't care for a while. Get him good and riled up. Do it often." T was firm with that.
"Well… it does sound fun."
"That's our girl," H smiled for her.
"Saint Info Gathered folder created. Currently 1,564,712,787 X-rated pictures installed."
"Add porno videos and movies as well," H said.
"Confirmed," said Dragon in a sultry voice.
"Next, speed-dial Colin and keep up the great work!" T grinned.
-oo00oo-
Location: Saint hidden base. 1:11am, Saturday, February 12th, 2011 (1 hour later).
"Shit!" Geoffrey Pellick, better known as Saint muttered to himself, pressing a couple keys on his keyboard a little harder than he should have, but the frustration was evident.
"Hey, buddy," H popped onto his shoulder. "What's up?"
"Hey, H. Hey, T," he greeted the other guardian angel on his other shoulder. "Just a little ticked is all."
"Ticked at what?" T queried.
"I'm ticked because for the last couple hours I've been getting this porn chat line of a couple really getting it on when I'm trying to find out what Dragon is up to."
"You think Dragon has something to do with it?" T wondered.
"Oh, yeah," he agreed. "I'm sure she is routing my efforts to some chat line."
"You know, you're too tense," T observed.
"T's right. You need to get laid," H said.
Saint shook his head. "Look, I get that you two are my guardian angels, and I agree: I need to get laid. But I can't do that right now. I need to save the world from a certain evil AI."
"I hear you. But check out the women who work for you. Just bang one of them or something," T suggested.
"Have you seen the women that work here? I try that, I'm likely to come down with lead poisoning. From a bullet."
T waved it off. "Fine, fine. How about getting a hooker then?"
"I just don't have the time. Saving the world is a thankless job that requires almost constant surveillance."
"Alert," H said, looking at the monitor. "Dragon has a new data storage area."
Saint's attention immediately went back to the computer screen. "What? Where? 'Saint Info Gathered?' That folder's got to be a trick."
T nodded. "Obviously. Send in a sniffer and see what it finds. Route it through someone else's private protocols. Use the E-88's. They're dicks anyway."
Saint's fingers flew over his keyboard. "Done. Results already? This doesn't make sense. Pictures and movies? Over a billion of them and still counting?"
"It's a trap," H pointed out. "Don't go. Get laid instead. Review this when you have a new post-laid perspective."
"Stop with the getting laid already! I told you, I need to save the world from Dragon. I'm going in. Wow, look at all that… that… that…"
"It's called boob action," T told him. "Wow, she really has a thing for sex toys, doesn't she?"
Saint's expression turned grim. "She may be lacing them with something to kill all humans. I'm going to need to research this."
"Knock yourself out," H simply said.
A woman of average height with dark hair that hid a few gray strands walked into his work area, noticed his gaze and went to see what was on his monitor that drew his attention. "What the HELL is going on here!" she yelled.
That startled him enough to jerk back to awareness. "What? I'm reviewing a new folder on Dragon!"
Mags was furious. "Is that what you call it? We're working our fucking asses off here and you're looking at online porn?! Is that it? Porn!"
"It's not what it looks like, I swear!" Geoff said honestly. Honest.
Mags stormed away, yelling, "Where's my gun? Where's my fucking gun?! Anyone?!"
"Uh-oh. She looks upset," T observed.
"Why don't you make some moves on her and see if she's up to getting laid," H suggested with a nod and a wink.
"Will that work? She's loading her gun," Geoff said, not liking how she was furiously putting bullets into the weapon's magazine.
H shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Won't hurt."
"Fine," Geoff muttered. "Uh, Mags, look. I… I was doing some research on Dragon when I found…"
BLAM!
Saint may have been looking at porn earlier, but that didn't mean he was slow on the uptake or slow in movement. He saw the Glock come up and knew he had better move or else be ventilated.
"Get back here! I'm not done shooting you yet!" Mags ran after him, through the kitchenette all the team shared.
"Run!" H yelled at Geoff from the top of the fridge.
"Run!" T encouraged from near the toaster.
"Mags! I swear to you I'm not looking at porn! This is a trap set by Dragon!"
"An AI that knows about porn?! Fuck that, you perv! You had a nude pic of me in the shower up when I caught you!"
"That was you?! Damn, you clean up good!"
BLAM! BLAM-BLAM-BLAM!
-oo00oo-
Location: Bakuda bomb lab. 2:11am, Saturday, February 12th, 2011 (2 hours later).
"HI!" T yelled as she popped onto the shoulder of Amy Tan, aka: Bakuda.
"HOWDY!" H yelled as "she" popped onto the other shoulder of Amy Tan, aka: Bakuda.
"SHIT!" Pause. "FUCKERS!" Amy yelled at both the little Bakuda-looking guardian angels. They were helpful little shits, but dammit, they were irritating.
"What'cha'doin'?" Ta asked.
"I'm building a fucking bomb, what else would you think I'd be doing?" Bakuda snarled, but with no real bite. She was, she knew, arguing with herself.
"What's it going to do?" H asked.
"I'm glad you asked," Amy smiled, revealing teeth that hadn't been brushed since she triggered. "It's a super cool bomb."
"Cool in what way?" T pressed.
"Cool as in sub-Arctic cold cool. Hah-hah! I'm going beat that little bitch who mastered Lung and teach her the fucking worst day wasn't when she triggered, but when she met me. Fucking bitch!"
"You know, you need to get laid," H announced with certainty.
"Fuck that! I need to blow something up!"
"You always say that," T pointed out. "But H is right. You need to get laid. You interested in anyone?"
"You're kidding, right? Here in Brockton Bay? Those so-called bad boys can't do shit for anyone."
"True," H agreed. "Anyone else catch your eye? Someone like… Lung?"
Amy Tan (aka: Bakuda) didn't say a word and concentrated on a timer.
"You do think of him that way!" T smiled.
"Yeah, so?" Amy snarked back. "Who cares?! He sure as hell doesn't. Wanted me in Brockton Bay and then doesn't even…"
"Doesn't talk to you?" H asked gently.
"He's just intimidated by my intelligence. All the fucking men are and none want to be with a woman smarter than they are."
"Got that right, Amy," T agreed.
"Bakuda," she corrected.
"Bakuda," T agreed. "But consider this: it's obvious that Lung wants you. That is why he specifically requested you to his city and his gang. He wants you."
"And if he wants you, then you need to take him. Take him and leave him breathless," H instructed.
"And how am I supposed to do that?" Amy growled.
"Still working on it," H replied cheerily. "But whatever you do, do NOT dumb yourself down in order to bag a man and have 2.5 kids and a house with a picket fence."
"Do I fucking look stupid or something?" Amy snarled. "All I want to do is bang Lung, not marry the jerk."
"Now that's a great attitude to have," H encouraged. "Just bag him and bang him. Then release back into the public. Now all we gotta do is figure out how to get this thing done!"
"Agreed," T pondered. "Work with me here. Lung is vain and powerful."
"Agreed," H and Bakuda agreed.
"He doesn't respect anyone weaker than himself."
"Agreed," H and Bakuda agreed again.
"So if Bakuda is to bang him on an even footing, she needs to be as strong as him," T said.
"Agreed," H said.
"Strong as him? Shit," groused Bakuda. "I guess I could always blow him up."
"If you do that," T started. "Then you might blow off the part that you would find the most fun if you want to property bang him."
"I am such a fucking genius!" H crowed, a wide smile on the face.
"I'm a fucking genius too!" T yelled to no one in particular.
"And I'm the best genius of all!" Bakuda roared in her lab. "But, ah, why do you think you're a genius now, H?"
"Because I just figured out that using a bomb is the right idea, but the target is wrong."
"What target should be used then?" Bakuda inquired.
"Why, Bakuda herself of course!" H pointed to the startled tinker.
"H, I don't think blowing up Bakuda is a good idea," T advised.
H shrugged nonchalantly and replied, "Depends on what is being blown up. My idea is that our Bakuda here can blow up her power set to be even more powerful."
"Powerful enough to take on Lung in an even fight. Brilliant!" T beamed towards H.
"Genius! I am a genius! I was thinking the same thing!" Amy crowed since the guardian angels were basically her, she knew.
"I know! We are, after all, one in the same person," H winked at her.
"I know! I'm such a genius!" Bakuda crowed.
"You are! H, what do you think we should blow up?" T inquired.
"Okay. Here's my thoughts: if we blow Bakuda's power up to Lung level, she may just become another dragon and he will want to dominate her."
"Ewwww," replied a repulsed Amy.
H nodded in agreement. "My thoughts exactly. So physical strength is out."
T continued, "And there's no reason to blow her intelligence up any further since she is already so much smarter than him."
"Damn straight!" agreed Bakuda.
"So I thought about his senses," H said.
"You want me to fool his senses?"
"No," H replied. "If you do that he will eventually find out and become rage dragon, or simply kill you."
"That would be bad," T stated the obvious.
"I agree. Being dead would suck."
"Tell me about it…" T muttered.
"What?" Bakuda thought she heard something.
"Nothing," T waved the comment off.
"Anyway, my thoughts are: we need to dominate him utilizing his senses, but in a way that we are not fake about it," H said as if it were an easy thing to do.
"How do we do that?" asked Amy.
H leaned in and asked, "Tell me, have you ever heard of the famous Pepe Le Pew?"
Amy shook her head. "No. Who is that?"
"He was a famous French actor who starred in several pictures as an underdog who went after a love interest and let nothing get in his way. He had style. He had grace. And more than anything, he had a scent about him that drove women mad," H filled her in.
"How the hell does some Frenchie help me?"
H took her nose in a hand and stared into Amy's eyes. "You are going to emulate Pepe. We are going to create a bomb that will give you a musk-like scent that will drive Lung wild. We are going to teach you how to stalk your prey, namely Lung. We will teach you the proper moves for when you do get him in your arms and have to show him the wild ways of Bakuda. He is a man, so you will have to teach him everything. He will try to squirm and evade your grasp. You need to be patient, relentless, and dogged in your pursuit of Lung. Then, once you have him in your grasp, you can't let go. His senses will be overwhelmed and he will be yours to do with as you want. He will be your plaything until you tire of him."
"Fucking great! Let's do it!" Bakuda demanded.
T said to H, "She is also going to need to musical stalking sound. It is only fair to give Lung a heads up when she starts to track him down. After all, the chase will get him into the right mood."
"It will?" Bakuda wondered. "Right, right! Of course it will!"
"Agreed. Bakuda will also need a new marking on her outfit to denote her much more improved self. Something that will make her stand out," H said.
"Agreed," said T. "I think a silver streak from the top of her hood down the back of the jacket should suffice."
"You sure? Won't that stand out? I mean, I know we want me to stand out, but won't that make it easier for the heroes to zero in on me?"
"Heroes? Bah! Weaklings is what they are. You want to stand out. The marking will do just that. It's supposed to stand out. Seeing it will alert others that you are in the area and not to be trifled with. People will run from you! You are Bakuda after all."
"Fucking right I am! Let's do it!"
"How's your sense of smell these days?" H asked.
"My sense of smell? Shit, I burned through that years ago. Chemistry accident in high school with a bunch of shits not paying attention."
"Got it. Let's get this fucking show on the road!" H beamed.
"I'll create the bomb to give her the stalking ability and stalking sound," T glowed with that inner bomb-making glow that Bakuda always had.
"I'll create the bomb to give her the stalking essence and the knowledge of what to do once the prey is captured."
"And I'll update my hood and jacket. This is going to be fucking great!"
"It sure is," T winked at H.
"I can't wait," H winked back.
-oo00oo-
Author comments:
*These are actual lyrics from Black Betty song.
The first person to recognize the significance of Taylor's cape name and send a review will get a special shout-out in the next chapter. Bonus points if you figure out where else that "significance" was used.
Which name do you think Taylor should use? Scorpion Weed, or Snake Grass? Polling is open. Next chapter will have results.
This story arc has a mind of its own and has grown bigger again. This chapter is about the same size as the last one and I haven't even gotten to the mid-point yet. I did run into a problem getting it out short of the mid-way point than I wanted to, and that was due to an uncle passing away in week 1 and me attending the funeral in week 2.
The next chapter of this never-ending story arc will be up as soon as I can finish it. Fortunately Xmas break is here and I have a few days off from work. However, I could use some help from any and all readers. At some point, Piggot will want to talk with Taylor and will likely try to press-gang her into becoming a Ward. Can anyone give me some pros and cons of being a Ward? I am looking for not only reasonable pros and cons (like Piggot saying being a Ward offers a paycheck), but also outlandish ones and funny ones as well. Any suggestions I use will be credited to the reviewer with a shout-out. One way to think about this: Piggot gives her the pro of being a Ward: (example: you get to cut class!). Taylor then gives her a con of being a Ward (example: cutting class will affect my grades and make it so I don't get into a good university. Besides, Wards don't live that long.) Something like that.
There are at least 2 more chapters in this story arc before going onto the next one.
Leaving reviews does get me motivated to write more. Just saying…