There were times when things flew by swifter than an unladen sparrow from Europe. Other times, things didn't go as swiftly as one might hope. Thankfully, that day wasn't either of them. Or would that be unfortunately?
We played some dreamcast party games, had some take out pizza that Brian and Alec picked up. I made faces at the choice of toppings that Lisa had, she was far more adventurous than I or any of the others in her culinary explorations; who would willing eat oysters or anchovies on a pizza?
Still, time passed as it should, even if I had the sensation of being in a montage as my spiders spun their silk for my friends to harvest and shape to the needs I had spoken of to them.
There were patterns and shapes that had to be adhered to, compensation for the material. An intelligent design as my friends wove the silk in ways that it wasn't meant to, at least not naturally. I could feel the webbing fold over and over, twisting essence into the thread to give strength beyond normal spider silk. Metal brought from within my heart, from within the realm that my friends dwelled in, forged and tempered to a thinness that rivaled what lay within my costume.
It didn't take long, not truly, for the costumes to be woven, that is.
Certainly, I knew that what had been done, had been done by cheating. By bending the very laws of physics as was commonly known on Earth. And yet, did I not live in a world where superheros and super-villains existed? Where mortal men could fly without any physical means to do so?
In an earlier age, some might claim that the capes were gods, or those chosen by them, while the more physically different ones would likely have been called demons or monsters. But was it any different than what we called them in the modern day? Heroes. Villains. Endbringers.
They had armies who worked with or for them in the form of the PRT or in their gangs.
The weaker and younger ones served the stronger and older ones if they chose not to set out on their own. Like the heroes in ancient legends and myths.
There were the forge gods, the demonic or divine weapon smiths from whom legendary weapons, tools, and armor were brought, granted or stolen.
Some might claim that the age of the gods had ended, but in truth, it was still here. Just seen from a different perspective.
If I hewed to those ancient stories, what I was... was but a charlatan. A minor story of a [_] weaver who held her head high. One blessed with patrons, companions and minions for whom adventures intruded upon and then woven into a tale of daring do.
Thus, the surprise that my friends had when I showed them the completed outfits were gratifying. With that done, I got to work on one last item.
.
.
The next few days flew by, school was disturbingly quiet. For one, Sophia simply didn't show up. It was not like her to just skip school. From hearsay, apparently, she hadn't returned home. Not since the evening when we talked.
I hadn't known that she had been that affected when she had used her power to stagger me before turning into a shadow that faded away. When I thought about that moment, I had the sensation that I had forgotten something.
Something big.
Something important.
Something that was terrifyingly impossible.
But it wasn't something too important, or I would have remembered it. Right?
Still, there wasn't much I could do. So I simply muddled my way about school. Drifting from class to class, sat and was talked to as I rote-studied the facts, sciences, and history that was deemed suitable by the education system.
I did have to post apologies in the Creative Writing to the lack of story posts for the week due to RL affairs, instead I looked up what was required to start a business. More importantly, I researched up Number Man on Parahuman Online as well as created a 'puppet' account to ask questions. Those questions were vital, after all, one should always research up one's future client base.
It appeared that while there were rogues who were in the fashion industry, there were few who provided actual protective costumes. It wasn't as few as stated by Alec and Brian, but it was just a handful and they weren't tinkers. Rather, they were capes whose powers were somewhat similar like mine in that they provided a base or materials that they could use to create protective armor.
In short, I would have rivals in this. Which was fine, as I didn't want the entire pie. Just a way to explain where my money from being on the Undersiders was from. Something quasi-legitimate.
I was going to need to sell this to dad, after all. And knowledge in things like sales was literally power.
I sprung my trap on saturday morning.
"So. What do you think?" I looked at dad as he tried out the jacket that I had made. It was as protective as the armored costumes I had made for my friends in the Undersiders. More, it didn't look out of place with its armor plating hidden beneath the fabric. The only way to know would be to hit my dad while he was wearing it. Or perhaps when he hung it up poorly. "It's machine washable. Just remember to treat it like delicate clothing."
He frowned at me as he stretched. "You couldn't have possibly made this, could you?"
I swallowed. This was do or die time. I hadn't wanted to tell dad about this, about me being a cape. But what Lisa said that night was right, I would need to tell him, that I had to trust that things would work out even when I didn't control everything.
Trust.
It felt... wrong. Scary. To simply believe that things would just work out. That I didn't need to make sure that things went the right way.
That I didn't need to be the wordsmith of the world around me all the time. I had been terrified when she spoke to me as if she knew what I could do. Somehow. Without even me telling her. Objectively, I knew she was a thinker who could intuit things, but to have that fact so clearly in that manner demonstrated frightened me.
"Dad... I... I'm... I have powers," He blinked at me as I spoke up. "I guess what I'm trying to say is... I'm a cape."
"..." He just looked at me as if in disbelief. As if what I said was world shattering. And perhaps, it was. "Oh, Taylor."
The sadness in his voice was worse than him being disappointed in me, it was as if he was disappointed in the world. As if he had failed me. I couldn't say I was too surprised, after all being a cape generally meant one of two things as a teenager, being in the wards or being in a gang.
"Don't tell me you stole this jacket or the money for it."
I blinked. What.
"No. Dad! It's not like that. I made it," There was equal parts of outrage, mortification and embarrassment at what he was assuming. With that I held out a hand and had a spider drop into my hand. "See. I can control spiders and I used them to produce the silk to make the jacket. And there's just really thin pieces of metal sewn in to give better shock absorption."
He blinked as I had the spider tap dance on hand in front of his eyes. "Oh. I see. I'm sorry. It's just..."
"But I can guess how it must have seemed," I looked down for a moment. "But I made that jacket for you. To show you what I can do. What I was planning to do."
Now he looked interested and thus I continued as I looked up at him with a smile. "I was planning on starting a costume making business for capes and protective clothing for people with the money for it."
"Like this jacket?" His question was only natural, and as such I nodded in response.
I passed him the folder with the print-outs. "I've been doing some research and I can get five to ten thousand per outfit, easy. And people would fork out for it because it's still cheaper than other sources. And if the demand is high enough, I could even raise the cost up to twenty thousand."
He blinked at me now as I continued on. "I wouldn't even need that many employees or even resources beyond food for my spiders. The biggest expense is a place for my workshop and even that isn't hard to get."
"I don't know, Taylor. It's all a bit much to take in," Dad blinked at me as I looked up at him.
I nodded. "And dad... I promise you, Weaver will not be doing any fighting. It's not a gang, just a business."
"You know, when you said you were going to start up a business," He shook his head. "I thought you meant you were going to be mowing lawns or cleaning pools or maybe babysitting... not... not an actual business. I mean you're talking about employees."
He blinked and looked at the top page in the folder. "And have business plans with... wait, you've factored in medical and vacation plans and companies to do such with for your employees?"
I tilted my head and looked at him. "Why wouldn't I? I mean... if I can do something, why not go all the way? I mean... I've been researching. There's a market, there's demand, and more than that... it's something I can do easily."
My dad just gaped at me, before shaking his head. "Oh, Taylor."
"Dad?"
"You know, you're just like your mom in planning everything out," He laughed in that manner that he did when he thought about mom. He had been doing it less and less, but it still hurt me to see him do it. "I guess I'll have to go over your business plan and see if you need any changes to it."
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Goblin Queen | Masks can be taken off
Worm / Exalted
