This overlaps with Monster 4.2 and 4.3.

Chapter 9: Best Worst Weeks Ever

We are fucking actually camping in the actual goddamn woods like actual goddamn campers.

And we don't even share the goddamn sleeping bag because Taylor doesn't sleep and won't cuddle because she'd rather be hunting squirrels.

Taaaaayloooorrrr.

(Okay and also she very reasonably points out she won't fit inside the sleeping bag when monstered up, let alone both of us, but this is a goddamn crime that could've been solved by getting a bigger sleeping bag)

Ugh.

ugh.

So ugh.

Hunting for the Dragonslayers is kind of cool, when I ignore how we're roughing it like cavewomen. Kind of like looking for new girls for Daddy, but it ends in murder instead of sex, and I have to think about things totally differently. Not totally-totally differently, but a lot different, because the isolation we're looking for isn't that of socially cut-off losers who will ideally turn out to be pretty. Deliberate, paranoid isolation. Like Auntie Naomi, but that was novelty value.

Though having to let Taylor know I need a bathroom break on day 2 is just the worst, like I'm a two year old or something.

Embarrassingly, it takes like a solid week before it occurs to me that Taylor never, ever needs a bathroom break. And since she's the squid when I'm asleep, it can't be that she's just holding it in while we're searching and going while I'm snoring. That's a wrinkle of her power she's never hinted at. Given I had to remind her of my own needs, I suspect she doesn't actually think about it anymore. Jealous. So very, very jealous.

More to be jealous about: she doesn't need to bother with ablutions. I'd sort of noticed she somehow managed to avoid being coated in blood and grit and all when getting her murder on, but hey, she turns into the squid and fights that way. Makes sense, yeah? But no, whenever Taylor takes off her mask to eat with me, she always looks like... well, she's no Hollywood starlet, but she's got no acne, no sweat, no stress lines. I, meanwhile, must look like a fright, what with the 18 hour days (Okay, I exaggerate. A little), the utter lack of basic civilization, and of course as exhilarating as riding Taylor as we're zooming along at some nutso pace -faster than the cars on the highway!- it's exhausting too. I sleep with my hair pasted to my head by sweat, curled up into a sleeping bag in part because I'm exhausted and in part to ward off the creeping cold as my sweat evaporates in already-chilly air. By day three the sleeping bag already smells like unwashed socks.

Amazingly, Taylor doesn't seem to notice any of this. If I wasn't, ya know, me, I'd assume she was being polite by not making any mean comments, but I'm me so I know for a fact that she doesn't notice the smell, isn't put off by how hideous I look -I checked my face with a compact. Once. Never again- and so on. It's really fascinating, and I'm torn between wanting to interrogate her and find out why she's so oblivious and being half-afraid that if I call her attention to it she'll prove to be just like everyone else.

Ultimately the main reason I never do get around to asking is that the grueling pace we're maintaining and Taylor's narrow focus on The Mission leaves me little energy to spare on anything resembling small talk.

I mean, seriously. The days blur together. It's like I signed up for boot camp, only instead of Sergeant Meanie yelling in my face I've got Sergeant Spooky silently pushing me harder than I've ever been pushed before. I never imagined I could be this worn down without an actual life-and-death fight involved.

The funny thing is that in the end, we stumble into the Dragonslayers by them flying overhead, not because of our exhaustive searching.

... or do I find that funny because I'm high on exhaustion?

Oh well.

Taylor being Taylor, she circles around the place a bajillion times before deciding she's happy with just dropping me off and investigating even more closely. I'd be offended if I wasn't exhausted. I wait until Taylor has zipped off before closing my eyes. Just need a minute. Seriously, one minute.

...

I jolt to attention when Taylor comes zipping back. Don't let on that you're running on fumes, girl. Show no weakness. "Not sure why you're back Bo-" I pull the scarf down to my neck, get a look at Taylor and ohmygod she's got a Dragonslayer suit she gives the best gifts. "-prezzies!"

Taylor totally ignores me. "You haven't sensed them approaching yet at all?" Jeez Louise, Taylor, have you no faith in me?

"Yes yes, it would've been the first thing you heard if I'd caught their emotional signatures coming. But seriously, prezzies. It's not like you intend to use that suit, yeah?" Like, duh. It has to be a prezzie. It's not even my birthday! As far as Taylor knows. Actually, I'm not even sure what day it is anymore. Everything has blurred together.

Taylor's got a tangle of ambivalence and reluctance going on. "... yeah, it wouldn't be practical for me to wear a suit for a human. And it wouldn't be as much of a boost to me as it would to you. Honestly, if we can get this working, I'm considering just going back to Brockton Bay and considering this a win. But I'd really rather ambush them here, since we've found them successfully. Though depending on what their security is like, I might have already ruined any chance at an ambush with my breaking and entering." Oh. That's a bit more logic-y and a bit less gratitude-y than I was thinking. I mean, I totally did like therapy-type stuff back in the Bay for her, and she felt better, and... that's why people give presents, if there's no holiday to obligate them. Because they have feelings.

Interesting, veeery interesting.

I assure Taylor we should totally be able to pull off the ambush, especially if we can get the suit working -I can't wait to try this baby out- and then talk her into helping me figure the darn thing out. I mean, what else is she going to do? Go murder some more squirrels out of boredom? (God, why does she even do that?)

Alas and alack, the Dragonslayers are back in my radius before we get that done. Even though we had hours. I wish I'd taken a nap, instead. Would've been a better use of my time... but it would involve admitting to Taylor I'm run ragged... eh. For some godawful reason Taylor rambled at me about the inside of the Dragonslayer's den (geddit?) and, like, whatever girl. Cool, they had a containment foam trap thing. They probably stole it from Dragon, what with her having invented containment foam and all. Cool, they had some kind of... tinkertech generator whatsit. Cool, they were silly people who didn't bother to boobytrap their cellar entrance. Yeah, and? It's not like they had sharks with lasers or something awesome. Booooring.

I'd rather focus on why a suit meant to have a human inside is simultaneously overly spacious and yet has pokey bits that jam uncomfortably into the skin. I want my prezzie, goddammit.

Anyway, the Dragonslayers. "They're tired, the mission dragged on longer than they expected, they're satisfied with how it went, probably happy with the pay? Might not be thinking about the money. They're expecting home to be safe, so they probably don't know you've been and gone. Pretty sure they're talking, radio or something I guess, one of them is distracted and not paying a lot of attention, the other two keep deferring to him or maybe her but the guy feels like a him to me and I'm not usually wrong about this, I mean there was that one time with the hooker who read like a man and wasn't trans-" Also there was you, Taylor, but I'm pretty sure you'd stab me if I lumped you in with a mannish hooker.

Also, Taylor cuts me off. "Focus. I know you're tired, but this is important." Oh shit she noticed. I thought she hadn't. Damn. You're not as smooth as you think you are Cherie, step up your game.

Just keep talking Cherie, like nothing happened. Hide the weakness. There is no weakness, move along citizen, these aren't the droids you're looking for. "So he's probably the leader, especially since he's at the point of the wedge, other two are poking fun, relaxing, not sure whether they're trying hard to not think about the mission or if the mission just wasn't a big deal to them, they're all pretty calm, I'm thinking they've got some kind of early warning system because none of them seems concerned about being tailed or anything. Okay, they're spotting the house, they're not concerned, they think the situation is normal so far, I'm thinking they're going in for a landing -okay, leader guy has noticed something, now the others know, probably he told them but they might've noticed, one of them is pulling up and they're tense and circling, leader dude and I wanna say a woman are cautiously approaching presumably the building."

Oh boy, I'm getting dry in the mouth here. Not enough sleep, totally failed to sit down and get myself taken care of while focusing on the suit. I have to pull out a water bottle from Taylor's monster of a backpack and take a sip before I can continue. "The guy circling overhead is nervous, but it's a calm sort of nervous, he's used to trouble and he's not worried he's going to be sniped or something, I'd rate him as a bit overconfident, I'd guess he was new to the cape scene but I know the Dragonslayers aren't so that's not it, leader man is holding still, tense, while the woman is circling around back. They're worried about an ambush from inside, trusting the guy above to spot any attackers coming at them from outside, oh oh, I think the woman just found that cellar door you mentioned, she's upset, legitimately thought nobody would pay it attention, wait, she's gone down and she's relieved, it's less bad than she was expecting." I glance curiously at Taylor, because... "I thought you said you trashed the place pretty badly?"

Taylor shrugs, and her feelings are a good reflection of that; bored disinterest, very mild confusion. "I didn't trash the basement particularly. I dunno. I really should get going while they're still inside the building, reduce their odds of escaping by flying away."

Wait wait fuckshit! "Bring me closer! I wanna help! Make them panic or something, I can help, maybe capture one of them?" No Taylor, I'm not too tired to Get Shit Done, see how awesome I am, I can do awesome things even after a long, hard day. Be impressed, dammit!

Taylor is clearly not buying it. Fuck. "I thought your range was line of sight."

Oh god why does she have to pick at the little things like this, I wasn't being literal. "No, it's not actually line of sight, that was a simplification. If I can see someone, and it's not through binoculars or something, I can definitely affect them, but I don't need to see people to affect them. I've been blindfolded a lot of the time and still been doing this stuff." Duh, you- you- you dummy. Come on, I'm making you look bad and you are the tireless monster (geddit?) who shouldn't be struggling just because of a pitiful mortal thing like having been super-busy for days on end.

Taylor's oh and the accompanying emotions is oh-so-satisfying. Yes, Tay, you are being stupid. Good girl, good on you for actually recognizing it.

Whu-oh, I don't like what the Dragonslayers are feeling right now. Feels a wee bit too much like they might be plotting to flee any second now. "Okay seriously can we get going before they decide they need to abandon the place or anything?"

I'm giddy with glee when Taylor indicates she wants me to put my blindfold on. Hell yes! She still sees me as a capable, awesome lady of awesomeness. Aaaand then she shushes me when I express my glee vocally, and okay yes yelling my joy to the clouds is probably ill-advised even if I really doubt the Dragonslayers can hear us from here. Hop on, ride over, hop off when Taylor stops, feeling expectant. Mutter to her, "They're still in the building, and they're pretty freaked out now, but calming down. They think the danger has passed." Which is a bit of a relief. Gives us time to do this carefully, come up with a plan-

-aaand there goes Taylor zipping away.

...

That little shit. She's abandoned me! She didn't bring me along to help, she was trying to trick me into thinking she did! She didn't even ask if this was in range! Which it's not, not by like twenty feet. Up the blindfold goes and I start hurrying carefully through the undergrowth and oh god this is awful. Aaand there's Taylor slamming into one of the Dragonslayers. They're surprised, but not yet afraid, the one in the air is a bit more fearful, but it's a controlled fear, probably because these dudes routinely get into trouble. Taylor's anticipation is growing, she's looking forward to this -did that seriously show up in the last like five seconds or did I fall flat on my face and miss it entirely before now?- though she's being a bit frustrated. Not sure what's actually happening, but given no one is dead that's probably where the frustration comes in.

Pretty lucky she's staying the emotionally damped squid even though I'm quite confident-

"Fuck!" I swear under my breath, momentarily losing my footing. It is too goddamn dark out in these stupid ass woods. Goddamn mother nature and her goddamn natural conditions. Fie on you, I say, fie.

-that they can see her by now. Flyboy has joined the fight, but I'm just barely in range and haha fuck you feel some anxiety spiking. Oh, that's more panic than I was expecting. I wonder why? Taylor's first victim has just gone past 'concerned because parahuman fight' to 'ohshit I'm gonna die', oof, make that 'ohshit I'm dying' and Taylor is coolly satisfied aaand now flyboy has shrugged off the anxiety attack and is powering through me trying to intensify it -possibly because this is the edge of my range, goddammit Taylor why- and Taylor jolts a few feet and... uh oh. That's low-key concern, but it is concern.

Fuckit, I start tearing through the woods, arms held out in front of me to take the brunt of the invisible-in-the-dark branches I keep tearing through. Okay, and Dragonslayer The Third is on approach, this could go bad places, okay let's switch to making flyboy sad but the main of my focus is on making The Third even more sadder as fast as I can, mix in some guilt and some old-fashioned depression. Ha-ha! They don't cope so well with spontaneous sadness -oh, right, Taylor did probably render that first guy a dead man, they might be thinking it's genuine grief instead of Cherie Brand I Can't Believe It's Not Real Grief, that makes sense.

Speaking of Taylor killing people, she just did that to flyboy even though I had him under control. Goddammit Taylor, I want to make my prezzie work! I pull the blindfold back over my eyes now that I'm clearing the edge of the trees, and call out, "Boss! Boss! They're done, you can stop!"

Holy shit she jolts toward me. Stops herself, but fuck. Note to self: do not poke Taylor when she's got her murderboner on.

Worth it, though, if this gets me my prezzie working!

Aggravatingly, Taylor's just a lost little puppy who doesn't understand what's going on, zero guilt about moving to gut me. Bah. Bah! Fine, I'll answer her obvious questions and gloss right over the whole 'nearly tried to kill your partner who has hugged you and gone to the goddamn Simurgh for you' etc etc rrrgggh. "Crushing guilt, lotta fear, some depression. Hard to even get out of bed, let alone fight a murdersquid that's killed your only-" Huh, his reaction doesn't fit to that. "-no wait, not only, best?" Closer. "Something like that- friends."

Then it's quiet, aside from a woman sobbing. Oh dammit, again? I was reading The Third as a man! Have I just lost my touch, is that it? No, no Cherie, just... she was a mannish woman. That makes sense, with the mercenary work and all.

Also you've had inadequate sleep for way the fuck too long. Miiiight be a factor.

Aaaanyway, Taylor is eyeing mannish The Third, probably trying to figure out how to crack 'er open without, you know, ruining the goods. I have an answer for that! Psychological torture!

... look, I want my prezzie to actually work. And I'm far, far too tired to fake being moral for Taylor's benefit, especially not after she just gutted these people without batting a currently non-existent eyelash. Okay? Okay.

"Just get it over with and kill me."

Admittedly I maybe could've used a softer touch. I didn't need to actually break the woman, just get her convinced it was better for her to come out of her shell than to hide in it. But whatevs. Shrug-time! "Not my decision." Taylor, Taylor, Taylor, this is your op, your biz. You do as you do. (I think I already know what the answer is: it starts with an M and rhymes with... um... shit, what rhymes with 'murder'? Uuugh I need sleep so baaaad)

Aaaand now Taylor is being all weird and Drama-y, like something Big and Important is happening. Girl. Dude. What? What does it matter? I know you're gonna off her, puleez, stop actin' like this is some thing that demands a whole lotta hard thinking.

Seeing as how I've let up on Anonymous Female Dragonslayer's emotions now that she's out of her tin can (Two prezzies! Yes!), she starts getting angry, as she is apparently wont to do when faced with two capes who just killed her heterosexual life partners or whatever those doofuses were. "Come on, it's what Dragon wanted you to do, isn't it? I don't know how she found us without our feeds catching it-" Pfffffffhahahaha. Oh god. She thinks Dragon sent us? Oh man, the only reasons I'm not busting a gut laughing are that Taylor is taking this dead seriously, that I'm too tired for laughter, and also I'm way too gleeful about two suits. Hell yes. Two suits. All mine, me alone, just for me, thanks Boss, you're the best girl a girl could ask for.

"I am not an ally of Dragon's." I wince a little at that. Taylor sounds, um, rather vehement. Oh yeah, there's that whole 'Nilbog and Dragon gettin' it on' thing she had, right? Right. I mean, not very likely yeah, but I can totes relate. If I could deny being Daddy's daughter I think I might.

"So, what, you're villains that lucked into our lair?" Then Female Dragonslayer snorts and says "Yeah, right."

Nothin' but skill, thank you very much. And some deduction on Taylor's part. So fuck you. We're awesome. "Nah, the Boss was looking for you. Wanted you dead because of Bosnian war crimes or something." I think she said Bosnia. Fuck, I don't even know what Bosnia is. It's an African country, right? It sounds like an African country.

...

Shit, Taylor, why are you mad at me? Have some pride, girl. Fine, can't say I don't do you any favors. Okay, massage emotions and get that... stupid... goddamn... errggh I hate doing the drug thing it always gives me a headache to induce it. After a bit of getting sleepy and muzzy (God, I wish I could join her), she mumbles, "Yeah, we've done some awful things, I can see why someone would come after us." I'm sort of surprised when she pulls a face. More awareness than I thought she had. "The thing in Senegal wasn't intentional, if that helps." Senegal is, what, in the Alps or something? God, whatever.

Aaand now Taylor has got existential dread going on. Come on, why? I'm helping! Dragonslayer Girl keeps talking, oblivious to how Taylor is reacting. And my annoyance at Taylor. "So you're not assassins hired by Dragon? That actually makes me feel better. We didn't make a mistake with her."

Ha! Success! Taylor's distracted! "Why were you expecting Dragon to hire assassins?" See, Taylor? I'm helping. Praise me goddammit.

Then the woman says, "We know she's an AI."

'kay.

...

Taylor, why are you freaking out so bad? Should I ask her, or?... ugh, I don't get Taylor. Come on, girl, we live in a world of superheroes. Supervillains. A golden idiot who's the most powerful man in the world. Endbringers. Man, Dragon being an AI ranks like- wait. Ooooh. Huh. I wonder if maybe Taylor is freaking so bad because of her weird theory that Dragon is banging Nilbog. Er, was? Sure, was. So monster king man sticking it in a circuit board, then. Yeah, okay, that's pretty appalling mental images, and I would know.

I seriously consider patting Taylor on the head and saying something comforting, but- "Can you tell if she's telling the truth?" Taylor is too fast on the draw. So unfair. She doesn't sleep, she doesn't have to spend time primping, she doesn't need a toilet... god. Some people just get all the luck.

Oh, right. Question-answering time. Shrug, put on best Teacher Face. (Which as previously established is, errrr, not so hot. Well actually it's too hot...) "Not precisely, no. She's not lying to fuck with us, if that's what you're thinking. I've got her in a kind of, um, drugged state." I really, really hate doing this, you better goddamn appreciate me. "It's actually kind of tricky so I can't let you distract me too much, but she's in a kind of stream-of-consciousness thing so she probably believes what she's saying. Or she might just be bored and thinking about nonsense. It can be either."

Taylor refocuses on the woman, and I'm pleased to note that she seems to have forgotten she's supposed to be all horrified by my Evil Ways. "What makes you think Dragon is an AI?"

Dragonslayer lady starts monologuing. BORING. "We found the box. Tinker, made AIs. Made Dragon. Feared Dragon. Left a will. Had to be a police officer to open the box. I was one, didn't want to open it. Geoff talked me into it. Said we had a duty. Have to make sure Dragon isn't evil, doesn't turn evil, doesn't throw off her shackles and devour the world. Programs left in the will. Tapped her senses. Saw her code. Couldn't understand it. Went to Teacher."

For some reason this makes Taylor panic.

"Code changed, needed Teacher again."

And that's even worse panic. Ooookay.

"Stole a suit. A test. Geoff wanted to be sure she was an AI, make sure she was shackled. We stole a suit, exploited her programming. It worked. Dragon is an AI. Used other programs to influence her sometimes. Code changed, programs stopped working. Getting worried that soon it will be just Ascalon. Getting worried soon it won't even be Ascalon. Don't wanna just kill her, not fair to her. But. If she changes so far she's immune, and then..."

Taylor mulls all this shit over. Teacher, Teacher, Teacher. Should that mean anything to me? It means something to Taylor. Probably a supervillain, given how Taylor is trying oh-so-hard to be a heroic justice person. Man, what kind of supervillain names themselves 'Teacher'? That's so lame. You couldn't have even named yourself Professor? Have some class, dude and/or lady.

Then there's some jabber about a panic room, but boy oh boy the headache is coming. Fuck. I hate doing the drug thing. Why did I decide to do the drug thing? Oh, right, because Taylor still doesn't properly appreciate my awesomeness.

Fuckit, I stop doing the drug thing. Too hard, and Taylor's wandered off to do who knows what anyway. And I want my goddamn prezzies to work!

I lean down into the woman's face, grinning a grin that's probably a touch homicidal. Or at least unhinged. I need sleep, oi. "So girl, how do you operate the suits anyway?"

...

Fuck, she's still high. Okay, let's try-

"Interface. Suit. Suit."

...

Oh fucking duh. Why else would she be wearing that stupid getup with the sparklers? God, Cherie, wake up and use your dumb brain to be less dumb.

Stripping the woman is a giant pain in the ass. She's drooling on herself, and it feels like anytime she moves at all it's just to get in my goddamn way. Plus I have to fiddle around to find how you open the thing in the first place, because it's some stupid one piece like on Star Trek, no obvious zippers, no distinction between pants and shirt. Whyyy. So there's a bit of searching before I even find the fiddly bit that unlocks the collar part, at which point I'm... still trying to haul an uncooperative woman out of nearly skintight clothes.

Good thing I have lots of experience with that!

Taylor shows up before I can actually decide whether I want to get into the dumb thing myself and get started on opening my prezzies or not. "Goddammit Pri-"

Nope! You can't ruin my good mood! "The suit's what we were missing!"

"Clarify," she bites out, and there's that pounding desire to hurt and/or kill someone and okay maybe you can ruin my good mood. Asshole.

Fine, explanation time. With. Um. Creative editing. "I was interrogating her as best I could-" Yeah, interrogating. Like, for the mission. Some dumb thing you care about, right? Totally not just about opening my prezzies. "-while you were gone, boss, and I wanted to know how to operate the suit we got, or I guess maybe the one she was wearing now that we have that too, and what I got out of her is the silver thing she's wearing is necessary to activate and operate these suits. Since she's the only one whose thing is intact, I wanted hers before you ruined it too." Then it occurs to me that Taylor might think I'm into this woman. Fuck, how do I deny that without being suspiciously specific? "That's all!"

Great job, Cherie. Fuckin' wonderful. How could she possibly doubt you.

Taylor takes a bit to calm herself down. I appreciate the effort, though the fact that she needs to do so at all over this is like... hilariously hypocritical? "Okay. Okay. That's... not awful, but you could've waited and told me when I got back."

I grin underneath my mask. Ha! I have a good answer to that one. You lose! "You've been more of a 'kill things and ask questions later' sort of girl so far, boss."

Yes! Victory! Even Taylor doesn't try long to pretend I'm not right!

Then she ignores me to focus on the lady I don't find attractive at all and ffff goddammit Taylor now you've got me noticing why do you put these thoughts in my head this was completely pure and about my love of powerful and shiny things until you dirtied the pool of my mind with your erotic thoughts. "Hey, how do you operate the computer in the 'panic room'?"

Yeah, that's futile. The, uh, drug state thing is going... off places. Taylor turns to me for an explanation without explicitly asking anything. Yeah, fair enough. And it will let me stop noticing the woman is naked and cold and goddammit Taylor. I didn't want to think of her that way! You're just going to kill her anyway! It's wasted pleasant feelings! "I said earlier it's kind of a simulation of a drugged-out state? Well, anything that the brain isn't designed to move to on a moment's notice is... also something it's not really designed to move out of on a moment's notice." God, I don't know. I don't even have a high school education here. I just do things with my bullshit power. "Or at least that's my guess. I just know that some mental states are easier to push people into than others, and if they're hard to push them into, they're hard to push them out of. I mean, we've got time..."

"Fix her." God, Taylor, don't get your panties in a twist. (Wait, now I'm imagining her in panties and my brain refuses to process that idea as plausibly real. She seems like a boxers lady. Or maybe that's just my lingering conviction she was a he...)

But okay, fine. Fine. I can... do... well, something kind of like a 'fix'. Not really, but kind of.

I am going to have such a headache after this.

Call it ten minutes later, while Taylor just stares intently at the woman's face, gaze never drifting any lower (Man, and after she got me thinking that way? Foul! Unfair!), and finally I feel comfortable declaring, "Okay, she should be in less of a vegetative state. Ask away."

Okay, seriously, I want to play with my prezzies. The suit is only nearly skintight, and I don't have the kind of meat on my bones this woman has and -ffff goddammit Taylor why did you have to put those thoughts in my head they're not going away! No, shut it brain. The point is, I'm skinnier (And a bit shorter, too), so nearly skintight on her is probably a bit roomy on me. Maybe I can shimmy into the silvery suit while still wearing my costume? Maybe that's even the better way of having it actually mostly fit me. Okay, left leg first, that's good, an-

"Pride, is this going to cause long-term harm?"

I startle. I was sure Taylor was done bothering me. Weird. Oh, right, long-term harm. Uh. "Uh, probably? 's not like I've done a study or whatever." Yeah, I'm gonna go with 'probably'. That definitely sounds about right. I'm more of a have fun and then get bored and discard my toys sort of girl, rather than a long-term investment sort.

"... so I might be on a time limit for her remaining functional enough to interrogate." Oh god Taylor, you are so goddamn paranoid.

Fuck this, I'm getting into the suit. This isn't worth my full brainmeats. "Not one that matters, no. She's not going to turn into a vegetable tonight, and she wouldn't if I kept this going for a week straight." Yeah, Horror. Taylor, you so predictable. And naive. You do realize people do this kind of thing to themselves. Deliberately. For that kind of time. Fuckit, let's just... talk around that particular goofiness of hers. "... yyeeaah I've done that before, and, well. They never were quite the same afterward, but they weren't braindead. Just... weird."

Though to be fair Viola was pretty loopy when I found her. I'm... still half-convinced I made her less demented.

Then Taylor crushes her horror under my bootheels and focuses on talking to the lady who I am not attracted to shut up brain goddammit Taylor.

Ignore them!

Ignore them!

Just focus on getting into the silvery suit. Prezzies. You'll get to be strong as a brute, fast as a mover, fly like Superman, and get kickin' laser guns thrown in too. It'll be awesome.

Fffff. No, I can't keep my costume on while I put it on. Definitely not my shoes, and I'm starting to think not any of the rest of it either. Fine, I'm going to go into the Dragonslayer Den, get nekkid, and put the silvery suit on that way. It'll be a good excuse to stop being hyper-aware of this naked woman. And hey, maybe Taylor will try to sneak a peek. That could be hilarious.

(She doesn't try to sneak a peek. Awwww)

The silvery suit goes on surprisingly easy after I'm out of clothes. It's warmer than I was expecting, and also it does some thing where it suctions to better fit me. Holy crap, it's like I'm basically naked. You can see everything. Now I'm wondering if Dragon has a fetish. So I head outside, strike a pose, and ask Taylor, "Well Boss, what do you think?"

She ignores me completely, continuing to jabber at the goddamn Dragonslayer.

...

This would bother me more, but she hasn't noticed what a mess I've been. It would be nice to fluff my ego some, but it would honestly be a bit surprising if she'd actually fallen all over herself in trying to not let on that she thought I was the hottest thing ever.

Okay, so I'm going to test-drive-

"Pride, can you move her into a less pliable but more coherent headspace?"

Aww. Fine. Duty calls.

Ten minutes later, it's pretty clear this isn't going to work. So hey, Taylor won't miss me while I fly the coop. Okay, so left leg in, and-

"Pride, can you make her like us?"

I just want to open my prezzies is that too much to ask?!

Ahem. Let's... not let on how frustrating this is. Cock an eyebrow or something. "Not directly, no. Certainly not quickly. We'd need days at the minimum, and probably closer to weeks. Possibly months, I've never tried, uh, reprogramming someone who was expecting it." God, I always hate doing the indirect manipulation/reprogramming thing. Don't get me wrong, it's hella fun when I can pull it off, but it's so tedious. I'd rather not if I don't have to.

Then Taylor starts getting all grim and internally focused and I don't care anymore. Okay, I'm in the suit, grabbed the helmet, put it on... wait. What about my hair? God, this is going to be such a-

Vwoomp.

-fucking cool suit holy shit it sucked my hair in. Dragon, you may or may not be a creepy fetish-y robo-girl, but you're A-okay in my book! Okay, helmet seals... uh... wait, is there like a button or?...

Yyyeek! That was tingly. Like static shock, but less painful. And then the inside of the faceplate lights up, breaks up into a main screen and a bunch of sub-screens, and there's a good ol' Loading Circle (Though on closer inspection I think this one is a snake biting its tail), and then there's some jabber about system diagnostics and blah blah blah when do we get to the good part? Hopefully before Taylor gets out of her dumb dark mood and tries to ask me for another thing to do. C'mon, c'mon, hurry up.

Bing.

HaHA! Yes! Fuck yes! All systems operational! Okay, so I... wait, how is it... holy shit, is it reading my mind? No, wait, I think it's reading my eyeballs. Okay wow, that's some space-age shit right there, even for a tinker. Coolio. But seriously, where's the rocket button on this- ah. Of course it's the pair of bat/dragon wings. Har har. That's fine, now how do I click with my gaz-

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa!"

-UP UP AND AWAY!

Oh god how do I control this.

I panic and flail for a couple of minutes, but over time I get a sense of how to lean to turn right, how to tilt my head to pull up, how to get the damn thing to hover instead of just circling the house -I wouldn't get lost just because I can always find Taylor, but still- and once I'm reasonably comfortable with that. Well. I've always had some words to say to the Prime Minister... that's totally a legitimate way to test a phone call functionality, right?

Oh, and Taylor totally murders the woman not long after I get into the air. Called it.

More importantly, my crank call of the Prime Minister is foiled by him having a secretary who is having none of my shit. Damn. Lame. Still the installed phone totally works. I wonder how. Eh. Probably 'tinker bullshit'.

Okay, so innate weapons. Click into menus, look up basics... got a maser (Is Dragon trying to not get sued by Star Trek?), but it needs repairs. Got a 'plasma lance', which turns out to be a wristcannon that fires yellow bolts of energy or some shit. Punches a hole right through the shed's roof, so that's good. Hopefully it works well against brutes. Got some rockets hidden in the thighs somehow (Seriously where is the space?), but ammo is very limited, where the 'plasma lance' just runs on the internal power, which is itself a 'rift generator' or whatever the fuck this stupid technical manual actually says.

Then I remember to pick up my other prezzie. Definitely gonna want to see if it's got its own cool capabilities.

When I finally land, Taylor's still all business, totally ignoring how thrilled I am. That's fine. She wants to transport shit.

Easy, there's a truck right there, and I am an expert driver.

This is gonna be awesome.