A Badger in Brockton Bay (HP/Worm CYOA v6 Crossover) v1
Blurb: Can a Hufflepuff isekai'ed to Brockton Bay bring some justice and fairplay to the corrupt city and some friendship and loyalty to Taylor? It'll be hard work but that never stopped a badger.
Justin Finch Fletchley wakes up in the body of Winslow Sophomore Justin Finch, heir to an Americanized version of his family in Brockton Bay on April 8, 2011. He finds Taylor's treatment objectionable and offers her his friendship and help. This changes her path, so she does not go out in costume and fight Lung. The ripples that cause will change everything.
1.1
Waking in a different body was a new and not entirely pleasant experience, and one I had never anticipated having.
To this day I am still not sure how it happened.
Only weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts had brought the war to a close, I had laid myself down to sleep in my new flat in near Charing Cross Station, considering whether I wanted to pursue a muggle medical degree at the Guy's, King's and St Thomas' School of Medicine or an apprenticeship at St. Mungo's. I was considering doing both, starting with the mundane option before moving back into the magical world. I would learn more, and it would keep all my options open.
Thanks to my parents' insistence on keeping up with my mundane studies during the breaks I had gotten my GCSE Biology qualification and at Ilvermorny they offered advanced studies in healing, so I had my certificate on the magical side too.
Drifting off, my thoughts were fantasies of me pioneering the combination of both branches of medicine to help people in both worlds.
I started awake with vague and rapidly vanishing memories of planet-sized flobberworms tearing a series of near identical words apart. Worlds inhabited by humanoid bat-like creatures who had built a civilization that surpassed ours in technological terms. The last lingering image was a golden bat-creature shooting a purple beam that devoured the building around me. I woke up just before it consumed me.
That's when I discovered the whole 'different body' thing. At first, I didn't realize anything was wrong. Then I discovered the bed was too big, there was a different lamp on the side table, and as I rolled out of bed, the floor was too far away. There was also an alarm clock ringing, one I had not set the night before. I could see the red numerals of a digital clock radio glowing from across the room.
I stumbled over to the clock, slammed the snooze bar then flicked on the lamp. The clock was on top of a chest of drawers above which hung a mirror. In it I could see a familiar face. Familiar but because it was my face from three or four years ago, or very close to it.
I started noticing and listing differences with unnatural speed – different hair style, more tanned, less baby fat, more symmetrical, minutely bulging cheek muscles. The list went on before I mentally pulled myself short.
I was not in my room, or one I had ever seen before, but it somehow felt familiar. I was in a younger version of my body, but it felt different and yet familiar. I stared at myself, contemplating for several seconds.
Memories slowly percolated into my spinning consciousness. I was Justin Finch, not Finch-Fletchley. I was an American high school sophomore, only fifteen years old. My family was very similar – inherited wealth from a proud lineage, Father the president of the family bank, Mother an attorney and City Council member. I was still an only child.
Most disturbing of all, I was in a world that had people with superhuman powers which were not magical. And while there was no magic, there were monsters, some of which reminded me of glimpses from my dream. This world knew of other Earths in other dimensions. I had to assume that my world, the Wizarding World, was one of those alternates somewhere in the multiverse.
And I had fallen or been pushed through those universal walls.
All of this fell into my mind, as if I was recalling long unused knowledge rather than learning something new.
"Justin, if you don't hit the shower, you're going to be late." The female voice was accompanied by a brisk three-rap knock on my door. My memory identified it as my mother.
"Alright, I'm up," I replied automatically. I hurried into the bathroom, to be confronted by my new form. As I undressed, I noticed this version of me was surprisingly fit, much more muscular than I had ever been. I looked like one of those Calvin Klein models that were pasted on the bus shelters and tube station walls. My face was not model pretty but was closer to that ideal than my old one, while still obviously being me.
Remembering that I was on a schedule, I rushed through my normal ablutions. I instinctively summoned my towel as I left the shower, having forgotten to hang in near the door. As the realization I had just cast magic hit me two thoughts crossed my mind. First was amazement that I had cast both silently and wandlessly. I had mastered casting most spells silently in my sixth and seventh years, but wandless was new to me.
The second thought was that I had just cast magic in a mundane home, underaged casting no less. No one had seen it, but if there were any type of magical government here and they had a detection system, I might be getting a visit soon.
I almost hoped that would be the case. They might be able to get me back home, though I am not sure our own Department of Mysteries would be able to accomplish the task.
I considered what I was going to do as I dressed. I had no reason to doubt that this was all real, and with magic I was willing to believe almost anything possible. I did not feel comfortable with the idea of telling anyone, so I determined to try to live this Justin's life until something better came along.
I wasn't happy about the idea of returning to school, but I had missed out on most of the mundane high school experience, especially the American one. My classmates in Massachusetts offered such colorful descriptions, so I thought this might offer something new and interesting. I could certainly give it a try.
By the time I was dropped off by Melissa, my driver/bodyguard I was having second thoughts. Seeing the unsavory look of Winslow's exterior and student body started my memories of the school cascading into my conscious mind.
Despite the fact that my family was one of the ten most wealthy in Brockton Bay, and lived in Westside Hills, the city's oldest, most elite neighborhood, I went to Winslow because it was the high school that served my mother's constituency. While all my neighbors attended Arcadia or Immaculata, I had been transferred to the barrel-bottom of our city's schools as a political stunt.
It was not all bad. While this Justin mostly socialized with the kids in Westside or the children of his parents' associates and friends, during his eight months at Winslow he had made, if not friends, then friendly acquaintances.
"Justin, are you going to Amanda's party tonight?" Emma Barnes, a pretty ginger-haired girl in my year, asked.
My memory offered its take on her. She was the daughter of one of the associates at the law firm where my mother was the senior partner. We had met several times before I came to Winslow. She knew of my wealth and connections and was more than willing to latch on to them. I occasionally hung out with her and some of her friends, but mostly kept her at arm's length.
"Probably not," I replied. "I have a busy weekend ahead and need to get a jumpstart on it."
"Oh? Anything interesting? Dad didn't mention …" She liked to remind me of our connection through our parents, as if I might forget.
"No. It's a family thing," I interrupted unconsciously, then cringed internally. This body seemed to fall into a sort of autopilot if I let it, relying on familiar patterns of behavior in familiar situations. I was not comfortable being that rude so I tried to step up my control. "Sorry about that. Please give Amanda my regrets and I hope you'll enjoy yourselves."
"I'll send you pics," she offered with a slightly naughty smile.
I offered a half smile in return before continuing to my first class.
Not terribly comfortable with the insane situation in which I found myself, I spent the first two classes lost in thought. I paid enough attention to answer direct questions, but as I was classed as a good student, the teachers did not bother me too much.
When I got to World Studies, I was prepared to follow the same strategy. I was trying to figure out anyway I could try to get home. Or failing that, how I was going to survive living a new life in a new country in a new world.
"Sorry I'm running late guys," said the teacher in a friendly tone as he rushed into the room minutes after the bell rang. "I've got some personal stuff going on and need to ask a favor of you. I know we're scheduled to do your cape influence presentations on Monday, but I'm not going to be here then. I need you to do them today."
The class groaned and started offering arguments why that was impossible. Gladly listened for a few seconds then called for quiet.
"I know, I know," he said, completely failing to answer any of the concerns. "What I'm going to do is give you half the class to work on it, and I'm going to have work in groups so you can all contribute to a single presentation. We'll do those during the second part of class. You get to work in groups and only present a quarter of the number of presentations. See, it's not that bad."
Again, the class complained, but this time he just spoke over them. "Gather into groups of four or five. The sooner you get working, the more time you'll have. Hey! The group that does the best presentation gets a treat from the machine as a prize. How about that?"
He waved and the students slowly started splitting off into little pods. I just moved into the group forming on my left. I could have gone right, but I noticed Madison Clement in that group. She was one of Emma's hangers-on and I did not feel like being flirted with at the moment. Or to have Emma's sterling features pointed out to me for the twenty-sixth time.
I realized my predecessor really did not care for the ginger girl.
"Justin, right?" asked a breathless blond boy with a bowl cut. I remembered him as Greg something, one of the class outcasts.
"Yeah, Justin Finch," I held out my hand to him. He looked at it strangely then slapped it instead of shaking it. Quickly he turned from me and addressed the girl in our group at a machine gun pace. "Taylor, Sparky's out today so it'll just be the three of us, I guess."
Then he giggled.
Taylor was a tall, gangly girl with bright eyes half-hidden behind round glasses and long, curly black hair. She looked at me nervously.
"I'm afraid I didn't get started on the assignment yet," I admitted. "But I'd be happy to contribute what I can. I'm interested in capes, and in finding out more about them."
"Um, ok?" she said, obviously nervous. "I actually got started on this last night…"
She was interrupted by a girl coming into the class. Julia, another of Emma's clique tried to join Madison's group, but Gladly told her it was full. Ours was the only one with an opening.
I lifted myself out of my seat a few inches as a sop to chivalry. "Julia, Taylor was just telling us about the work she had already done on the project. I admit I've not yet started. I'm not sure about Greg here."
"I didn't get much done," Greg jumped in before I could finish, "I got distracted by this new game I got and it is really really good, it's called Space Opera. Have you played it?"
A full minute later he was still on the same topic, even though no one was giving him any sort of feedback. "…you have to understand it's a genre, and it's one I've really been getting into it lately, since I started watching this anime called …"
"Greg, we need to work on the project," I inserted as gently as I could. "Do you have anything prepared?"
"Oh. No, I don't have anything," he admitted.
"How about you, Julia? If you've got something perhaps you can show us after Taylor shows us what she's got."
"Like she's got anything worth looking at," Julia said, staring at Taylor's chest. The thin girl blushed and hid behind her hair.
Things went downhill from there. Madison's group moved so the four of them were sitting right next to our group, which let Julia talk with them instead of contributing to our efforts.
The presence of all the popular and attractive girls in the class just got Greg more wound up, and he began trying to insert himself into their conversation, only to get shut down or ignored. It was painful to watch.
"Here's what I did so far," Taylor eventually said, handing me her folder. "What do you think?"
I looked it over. She had gathered information on the effect of several capes, some famous and others obscure according to my memories. Taylor showed how they had all made lasting marks. "This looks really well done. You've done a lot of good work here."
"Oh? Let me see," Greg asked, momentarily distracted from the chattering girls.
I handed him the packet and turned back to Taylor, "Why did you include capes like Chubster and Fastback?"
"Chubster has done a lot by deliberately becoming a role model for people with variant body types. He puts out a real body positive message." Taylor started slowly, still hiding behind her hair, but as she continued, she came out and her tone showed she felt strongly about her subject. "Grumann is a similar role model, though for a different demographic. Fastback was the first hero to …"
She stopped and barked out "Julia!" loudly enough to draw the attention of half the class. "Give that back."
"Give what back?" Julia asked innocently. I wasn't sure what Taylor was talking about.
"Madison," Taylor said, ignoring Julia, "Give it back."
That's when I realized that Julia had given Taylor's folder to Madison's group. I looked to Gladly. He was turning away from the conflict, avoiding having to address the issue.
"Madison, may I have Taylor's folder please?" I stood and asked, holding my hand out to her. My memories told me that Madison, Emma, and their clique regularly bullied and harassed Taylor. They were typical mean girls, but they seemed to have made her their particular target. I was hoping Madison would be less willing to play this game on someone higher than her normal victims on the school's social ladder, arguably higher than her.
Instead, she doubled down.
"Mr. G, Taylor is trying to steal my project." She held up the folder. "Can you tell her to stop and do her own work."
"But it's my work," Taylor almost begged the teacher to believe her.
The coward looked between the two groups then muttered, "Everyone needs to work within their group. The first presentation is in five minutes."
I sat down, flabbergasted.
Scenes of other awful teachers flipped through my mind – Snape, Lockhart, Umbridge, Gleeson. Every school had them. And students couldn't fight them in their classroom and win. I could try to talk with him after class, respect for his position deserved that much. But if that didn't produce any improvement I could escalate.
When the war started in England and my parents had to pull me out of Hogwarts, I told them about all my negative experiences at the school over five years. My mother was particularly angry that I had never talked to them when the various issues had come up.
Students tended to think schools were closed worlds where the outside standards and laws did not really apply. Dumbledore certainly worked hard to foster that illusion. My mother had forcefully reminded me that was not the case.
My memories did not include any similar conversation with this world's Mother, but I imagined her reaction would be much the same. If I could not get satisfaction on my own, I would bring her in.
While I was fuming and Taylor was hiding her reaction behind her hair, Greg was asked to present for our group. Needless to say, it was not a smashing success. Perhaps as a form of punishment, Gladly didn't select Madison, who I will admit presented Taylor's work well, as the best. A different group got the junk food reward.
After class the teacher called for Taylor to stay.
I saw Madison and Julia gathering a group of friends in the hall. I strode up to her, the frown on my face making my feelings plain. "A word please, Madison."
She hesitated a moment, looking at the girls around her. Then she nodded at me. I led her around a corner, into a small alcove set back for a storage room door. We weren't alone but we weren't surrounded either.
"That was a rotten thing to do. I don't know what you've got against Taylor, but that was too far.
"Jeez, it was just a joke," she tried to defend herself.
"Messing with people's grades is way past pranking and closing in on actionable harassment," I said evenly. "If you haven't made this right by Monday, I'll have to take it further. You get one chance. Please, fix this."
With that I walked away.
Once I was around the corner, I found Taylor pressed against the wall outside Gladly's door by almost a dozen girls. Julia, Sophia, and Emma were at the front. Taylor had obviously been subjected to a group harangue. I noticed Gladly look at the obvious attack then sigh and walk the other direction.
"What's the matter, Taylor? You look upset. Like you're going to cry yourself to sleep for a week straight," Emma said.
For some reason that hit Taylor particularly hard. I could see her face flush white and tears begin to flow. This enraged my Hufflepuff heart like nothing here had before. I barely knew the girl affected, but I could see the unfairness, the injustice of the pack of hyenas harrying their solitary prey.
I pushed my way into the crowd and planted myself between Taylor and the scavengers.
"That was badly done, Emma. Badly done, indeed," I declared hotly.
She looked taken aback.
"What's it to you, Finch?" Sophia demanded. "You looking for a pity fuck? You'd be a fool to stick your dick in that crabby pus bucket. I know you can do better."
"Twelve to one, Hess? Not exactly what I'd call sporting odds. If that's what you need to make you feel safe, you might want to consider a different game."
"Fuck you," she barked and unleashed a left jab at my chin and a knee at my bollocks.
Both seemed to be moving incredibly slowly. I twisted so both missed by less than an inch then snapped back to my previous posture.
"And now we see the violence inherent in the system," I quipped.
"Help, help, I'm being repressed," someone on the other side of the crowd quoted, causing some laughter.
Sophia and Emma looked confused. I was almost shocked that Julia seemed to be suppressing a giggle.
"Hey!" came the deep voice of Coach Gilbert. "Break it up. Get to lunch or get outside, I don't care. Just get out of here."
"You pissed off the wrong girl, rich boy. I don't care who your parents are. No one talks to me like that. I'll be seeing you." Sophia glared at me before walking off.
Emma looked at me. I watched as a half dozen emotions chased each other across her face. She wanted so badly to say something to fix this, but I just shook my head.
As she left, I realized I was almost reading her thoughts and emotions, without using legilimency.
There were a lot of things going on I didn't understand, including how I was adapting to the drastically changed situation so quickly. But I had other things to deal with before I could figure those things out.
"Taylor," I turned to shield her partially from the crowd flowing through the corridor. "Are you ok?"
"She was talking about my mother." Taylor sniffled, her back to me. "Who wouldn't cry when her mother is killed? How could she?"
"I'm so sorry," I said. "She was wrong. They were all wrong to say those things to you."
She took another minute to collect herself then turned around. "Thanks for trying. Back in class I mean. And out here. Thanks. No one sticks up for me. I hope you don't get in trouble for it."
"Why would I get in trouble?"
"Emma and Sophia are the principal's favorites. I've complained to her so many times, but she always takes their side. Emma's dad is a lawyer. I think he's got something on Blackwell. I know she's afraid of him."
"Yeah, he's a lawyer, but so what. So is my mom. And Barnes is a divorce lawyer, which means he knows almost nothing about school law or general litigation. But, if Emma is bringing in a lawyer, then so should you."
"I can't afford one, and neither can my dad."
"Again, so? Lawyers all have a requirement to donate time to needy clients. They call it working pro bono. Why don't you come talk to my mom? She can explain it better. And since they stole my work as well as yours, she has more reason to get involved."
"Uh, ok. When?" Taylor asked.
"She's out tonight and tomorrow. So the earliest would be Sunday. I've got a commitment that afternoon. Why don't you join us for dinner? I'll let her know you're coming and what it's about, so she'll be more prepared when you get there."
"Would records of all the attacks going back almost two years be useful?" she asked tentatively.
"Absolutely," I replied.
"I've got binders I can bring."
"That would be great. The more the better. Any online bullying would be worth documenting too. And the administration's response to your complaints."
She thought for several seconds, debating something mentally. Finally, she came to a decision.
"Alright. I'll do it."
"Great. I'll see you Sunday."
I had a lot of things to figure out between now and then.
# # #
A/N: I am suffering from a fractured muse. This is the third story on this site I have been driven to write, and I am working on a fourth on another site. I will try to switch between them as my inspiration and reader responses drive me. While I am taking pleasure in writing for myself, if one story is getting significantly more reader interest than another and I like writing them both I may choose to spend my time where I get more feedback.
# # #
A/N 2: The CYOA Build
Brigade's Worm CYOA V6 Build
Name: Justin "Manifold" Finch
Who: Fictional Character with Powers [Justin Finch-Fletchley], The Alien
Difficulty: Normal
Scenario: April 8th, 2011
Alignment: Neutral, Good, Hero
Character: Reincarnation, 14 to 18 years old, Male, Amazing, Homelife Good, High School
Shard: Shardless
Perks: Pain Switch, Olympian, Frankenstein, Who Wants to Live Forever?, Off Switch, Mental Barrier [Occlumency], Less Limited Power (Tier 2) [Wandless Magic], Peaceful Vibes, 'Plot' Armor, Cover Story, Reputable, Well-Adjusted, Equanimity, Natural Leader, Regular Badass, What I Fight for, Wealthy
Drawbacks: Conscious Geas [Can't tell anyone about magic, about outworld origin, about dream], Wildbow? Where Have I Heard That Before?, Gang Target [E88 Recruiting Civilian ID, Adept Recruiting Cape ID], Endbringer Target
Skills: Martial Arts [Combat Reflexes], Adaptable Martial Arts [Never overuses STR/SPD], Freerunning, Stealth, First-Aid, Teaching, Learning, Business, Common Knowledge, Presentation, Therapy, Pickpocketing, Sign-Language, Banter, Hand-Eye Coordination, Spatial Awareness, Internal Clock, Omnilingual,
Items: N/A
Companions: Taylor Anne Hebert
Powers: Brute/Mover/Thinker [From Frankenstein, Pain Switch, Olympian, Regular Badass], Tier 4 Abilities - Enhanced Reaction Time, TK (1lb limit, AOE 50yd radius), STR Boost, Perfect Aim, Unlimited Multitasking, Power Sense (50yd radius)
Brigade's Worm CYOA V6 Build Code:
aags, ri2z, 0ofk, jwlb, g124, 7z83, aaei, kht1, ilp3, q4jr, aaec, euib, aapk, ffrg, eo3o, aaam, aabd, 42jg, d001, mnpg, akq3, aabf, aapl, aagl, aaaq, aapp, wwb1, aagm, 87du, g003, pfjj, i002, 9gbp, k001, rfs7, 0w4c, gjf9, x1wn, 4exl, 8cwa, r579, aaaw, 4bfg, aaav, zam7, plxm, 57je, aawy, aaat, aaau, 68wo, e2an, fhr6, 47pj, dy7h, ojin, kpwp, 4tfy, aaa6,