Before now, Taylor Hebert never really thought about the lantern in the basement, or why in her dreams lighting it was such a big deal. She had never given it a second thought when she did end up lighting it; it had been cold and dark down there after the earthquake left her and her father trapped, and this staff-looking thing was just begging to be lit.

Maybe she or her dad should have noticed something was different when she suddenly had a knack for playing the accordion? Ok, maybe that wasn't the most odd thing to occur following the earthquake, like her hair turning black and her skin getting segnifigantly paler. But really, they couldn't worry about that back then. They were preoccupied enough dealing with not having a house anymore.

For a while, they tried living at the docks where her dad worked, but it just wasn't sustainable. They considered asking for help from the Barnes', but didn't want to add to their troubles. She remembers, one day while wheeling Emma to school, Emma had asked how they got by. Taylor had thought long and hard, and finally answered that it was family, that she couldn't let herself give up or her dad would be worse off than when her mom died.

So now, staring down the pair of muggers, Taylor remembered the lantern. The glow she felt within herself reminiscent of the warm comfort the lantern gave her and her father back in the basement. She looked to her friend, sister in all but name and blood, unable to get up, and now, unable to even see what is going on. Perhaps the latter was a blessing in disguise, as now she wouldn't have to suffer through watching what she was about to do to the two men unfortunate enough to be lurking in this alley on this night.

Troupe 1.1

Hanging from the tree, I could only wonder what dad would think if he saw me now. Improbable, since he literally lived at work now; as opposed to the figurative variant from before the earthquake. He would probably break down crying, then hug me and not let go until Allan and Zoe pried him off of me. Probably sob about being a horrible father for another half hour after that.

I heard a distinct thud and opened an eye, looking at the upside-down form of Emma's house. I let go of the branch and warped to the open window appearing right side up.

"Oh, Taylor." She said from the floor. "I wanted to get some water, could you help me up?"

I sighed and dropped down from the window to help her up.

"You really need to be more careful, Ems."

"I know." She said, now sitting on the bed.

I got her water bottle from the desk. Why she kept it there, I don't know. Maybe some delusion that she could still walk? She looked at me as I handed it to her; looked at me with those dead, grey eyes. How she always knew if I was close by was another thing I don't know. I sat down next to her.

"No, really. This is the third time this week you've done this. What if you banged your head on the nightstand?

"I'll be careful, Tay, I promise." She insisted.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Ok then." I stood. "But you get some sleep. And I'm holding you to that promise."

I then warped back outside and resumed my diligent watch of her bedroom from the tree.

The next morning was fairly uneventful: We got up, had breakfast, and were out the door before Emma's parents were even up. It really got moving when we reached the pile of rotting garbage known as Winslow high. By some disaster it survived the earthquake, in fact it was the only school in the area that wasn't damaged by the earthquake! Part of the reason me and Emma are still going here instead of Arcadia. The metal detectors at the front doors didn't even go off when I rolled Emma's wheelchair through them.

Going through the main hallway always felt like a funeral procession. Except everyone looked at you funny and didn't have tears in their eyes, and the person in the casket wasn't dead, and there was only one person carrying it- and this metaphor is falling apart fast. I glanced out of the corner of my eyes and saw the local social-Darwinist racist, Sophia Hess. Seriously, she's the black one and is somehow more of a bully to me than the damn E88! Thank goodness she doesn't get physical, heaven knows how that might turn out.

"Is she looking at us again?" Emma asked.

"Yeah. But when isn't she looking at the local monster and cripple duo?"

"Taylor, don't be so hard on yourself. Sure, you look a little different, but so what?"

"Thanks Ems." I allowed myself to smile a little.

I dropped Emma off at her class, got her set up with her Braille textbook (Winslow could afford that, go figure), and headed to my own class. Mr Gladly, er, Mr G, was a pretty alright teacher. Sure, he had way too many group assignments and looked like he'd been hired straight out of high school, but at least he tried. Although, we were going into the parahuman portion of World Interests, and the topic of me would most likely get brought up, and I don't quite know how to feel about that.

So, after dispensing our assignment, Mr G sat back and we all cordoned ourselves off into groups of four. I got assimilated into a group with three other girls who I really couldn't be bothered to remember the names of, and everyone promptly didn't do the assignment at all.

But then, one of the girls in my group turned to me with a notepad and pen.

"Hey, why do you always wear that?" She asked.

"I kinda have to… it's attached." I pulled back the thick, cloth-like membrane of the "cape", showing her where it and my arm separated… just above the elbow, opposite where my arm turned from squishy human-flesh to a pitch black carapace.

"Fascinating!" She said, beginning to write in the notebook.

Wait…

"You want to do the project on me don't you."

"May~be." She said innocently. "So, what can you do?"

I sighed, resigned to my fate.

"I've got enhanced senses and can teleport, also I don't have to get dressed in the morning further than a pair of pants, but besides that, nothing."

"Hmm, so Mover and I think Thinker." She said.

"Huh?"

"Oh, the PRT's classifications. I'm kind of a Cape geek."

"Neat. What else is there?"

"And then she went through the entire ENE Protectorate and Wards roster and their stats." I sighed. "So that was my day."

"Poor Taylor, life just beats you down again and again."

"It does! First the Earthquake, and now I haven't seen dad in like, a month!"

"Can't argue with that." Emma laughed.

"Hey, has your hair always been white? Did you dye it?"

Emma ran a hand through her hair.

"No." she said. "How and when would I have dyed it? I'm blind, remember."

"Well, you constantly do things a blind, crippled girl can't… like always knowing where I am before I speak."

"Touche. But no, I haven't dyed it."'

Suddenly, I smelled something. It was an indescribably delicious smell. Before I knew it, I ran into the ruined building and fell to my knees, scraping at the floor for whatever was producing the scent. A small, scarlet flame appeared from the torn floorboards, deeper red than a flame had the right to be, and producing that amazing smell. I gripped and clawed the flame into my mouth, devouring it like a starved animal.

After I finished consuming the flame, I looked up and realized just exactly where I was.

"Taylor! Taylor!"

"I'm just over here!" I called outside to her. "I just… need to do something."

AN: Well here it is, I finally worked up the courage to post this. This started out as just something I was writing in my spare time, but decided to share it with everyone.