Arc One: Conjuration

Part One:

A Lucario Went Down to Brockton, She Was Looking For A Soul To Save

[Recommended Title OST: LifeLight]

"Why am I still alive?"

Taylor Hebert, Sherriff and Mayor of Oasis, awoke in her third life. Awoke once more in the place of her earliest torment-Brockton Bay. She couldn't answer how she knew that, just that she knew in the depths of her soul that she'd returned to what had been her home. Her still-changed form was assaulted instantly by the noises and sensations of her former hometown.

The creak of the tanker and the ships of the Boat Graveyard; shots, yells, and screams of the background crime; the rumble and noise of traffic; the whine of technology and the hiss of electricity on the lines. She could smell the acrid fumes and taste the tang of pollution. Her exposed fur ruffled in the cold wind slowly trickling through the labyrinth of buildings to torment her as she sat up; her jacket and pants protecting her from the worst of the breeze. She didn't know how she knew; it was some instinctual gut feeling that gnawed at her as she sat there in shock.

She'd... been gone. Done. Her existence had been unraveled. But she lived. Why? Had the... essence of her simply snapped back? Was she doomed to circle around and around until she could take no more? Heartbeats pounded in her ears, and her breath whistled through her nostrils as she struggled to contain her panic attack that frayed at the edges of her mind. Questions interrupted themselves one after another in a frantic jumble of fragmented thought as she tried to find something, anything to focus on. She could... Oh.

Dreading the moment, Taylor lit her aura to shield herself from the worst of the miasma of the spirit fields and she exposed herself to the metaphysical agony the city endured. She was a Lucario, it came with her adopted species. She could feel the intentions, the bent of souls and the mood. It'd helped her so much in her second life. Helped her see the true intent of those who had been pretending to negotiate in good faith. It was baked into the metaphysical genetics of her existence to be able to see what was just, what was right. It had been a blessing, and a curse. It was so much harder to deceive her, but it put a massive target on her back and made it far more difficult for her to deal with unsavory types.

Her aura senses spread out with each steadying breath; her senses touching each and every part of the city as she tried to orient herself. She felt the seething hatred of the Empire 88, the fearful huddling and wagon-circling of the ABB, the corruption inherent to the decaying systems of the dystopia her homeworld had been even before the disguised alien invasion. Worst was the moldering despair inherent in everyone, always seething in the background and courtesy of so many things like the Endbringers and the unwillingness to address the actual problems. And from the depths of that hopelessness came the miasma of the Merchants-the decay, the misery.

Misery... despair... endless suffering... no, Arceus wouldn't.

Taylor looked around as a sudden focus came upon her. Buttoning up her damaged shed Arbok-leather jacket, she huddled against the cold. The lobes of her aura feelers were lit so she could focus. With the inheritance of her... disability into her second life, she'd taken to focusing on her more esoteric abilities. Part of it had come from... her first last stand. Tuning out the dingy, dirty alleyway and all the material distractions of the world, she stretched out with her feelings and-

THERE! It was- oh, that Parent of All Bitches!

Taylor was to her paws-no, feet-and ran for the mouth of the alley as she instinctually took in her surroundings. Cold and rancid slush squished between her toes as they splayed to increase her grip against the damaged and broken concrete of the alley. The gang sign on the brick walls was closer to that of what she half-remembered to be Empire tags. Her paws dug in and pushed harder as she accelerated with a fluid grace that she hadn't possessed for decades. Great, she had more life to live. Fine, she was fine. She wasn't fine, but she'd have to figure out how to live.

She leaped in a flying pounce over a dumpster, sparks building in her fur as she began to build a Magnet Rise within her body. A muffled thud accompanied her as she rolled through the landing, her dense body rattling as she she sprang back to her feet and ran for the light. People shouted as she slid into the street with a spray of pavement chips being scraped up by her claws as she dug into the ground to stop herself. They shouted and pointed at her as she looked around with a hard and determined gaze to finish fixing position.

Sure, she had come out of nowhere, but that wasn't a reason to point and- Oh, right. They were probably all thinking she was a... what was- right! A changer or a... Case 52. No, three. They must never have seen a Lucario. No, she needed to stop and focus.

A car horn blared as she dove out of the way of traffic and back onto the sidewalk; the sedan driving by with a rush of acceleration. More passed by, the flow not yet quite at rush hour traffic. Right, where was she? The PRT headquarters was over there... that was the Empire Headquarters over there. Wait, no, it was 'Medhall' so they could hide themselves. Bah. Right, where was Winslow? It was-right!

There was more shouting and commotion as everyone watched her take off on magnetic propulsion, swooping upwards and curving over the rooftops to speed off for the place that had first forged her into a 'cape'. The place that had brought out the worst in her. The tang of sea air and the faint salt-laden moisture from the sea winds slicked her down as she focused herself on the task at paw. Err, hand. Again. A bright blur passed her as she wobbled out of focus. Had it been... what was her name, Vicky? No, the Empire had-BUILDING!

She pulled up hard and just in time, and her toes rattled against the windows of the Medhall building. Pouring her aura strength into pushing raw jets of it from her feet, she picked up thrust as she stabilized herself with a self-applied Psychic to prevent herself from spinning out of control. Windows rattled 'beneath' her, and floors rushed past before she rolled over and swooped over the roof of the building. Adrenaline flooded her; antennae and HVAC systems rushed past in her madcap flight. It had been years since she had felt confident enough in the strength of her aura and her reflexes to pull off one of the 'forbidden techniques', but...

Exhilaration built in her as she let out a howling, "Roooooooooo!"

A few seconds later, she sheepishly slowed down a little as she regained control of her flight. She focused in, settling down with a grump. A mental note was made to remember to hold off on throwing her head back to howl in joy until after she was on the ground, seeing as the throwing back of her head and the shocked self-conscious covering of her muzzle both tended to throw off her aerodynamics and control surfaces.

She refocused again, parts of her mind flashing ahead to think of what was to come. She was going to ruin everything by doing this-rescuing herself. Then again, what was she supposed to do, leave her younger self to suffer through it all? Anything short of living in some cave would change everything, and even that would allow unchecked suffering to continue on without a fight. What was her plan going to be? It wasn't like she could just call the chucklefucks up and tell them exactly what their plan was do-... Yes, yes she could. If she remembered right, she had someone she could immediately use as an 'in' to get in touch with them. That'd do it.

Winslow 'High' 'School' loomed beneath her like an urban cancer, and it took a moment for her faded memories of the exterior to kick in and jog her recognition. All she could think of as she looked over it in an unstable flight was 'Damn, the roof really was about ready to fall in on everyone.' Right, she needed minimal property damage and only one 'assault if she was going to actually off her plan. She didn't need a hospital parking lot fight over the 'heroes' getting the wrong idea. Where could she insert-there! That was just about perfect place.

No, the tiny little juvenile seed of pettiness over using Winslow's 'track' lot to ruin the day of the one who had set her on her path shouldn't be indulged. She wasn't! Honestly, it was just using the most reliably open doorway in. Fuck it. She was doing it anyway.

The gathering crowd looking up in confusion at her had a moment to scatter before the old Lucario landed a little too heavily in a ginger three-point crouch. Sparks arced and skittered across the ground with a crackle and the tang of ozone as she grounded out, adding to the dramatic effect of the gust of wind that rushed in off of her coming as the breeze flapped her jacket around her. Whispers and the click of smuggled in cell phone cameras rose up as she inspected the back wall of the school building. Brief movement caught her eye, and her gaze snapped up to the outdoor clock showing-SHIT! She'd been-her younger alternate self would have just been shoved in the locker!

"Coming through!" Taylor forewarned before she broke into a headlong sprint for the door. Students dove out of her way in a panic as she twisted slightly to present her right shoulder in the hopes that she wouldn't accidentally impale anyone on her chest spike. She picked up speed, leaping up over the steps in a single bound as she leaned into the hit. The doors were just thin steel, so she busted through them with a clang of crashing metal. Where did she-right! The back staircase to her right would be closer.

The uncomfortable realization of just how short her transformation had made her kicked in as she forced the crowds to part before her like a school of Goldeen before a Sharpedo. Children, utter children were easily a head above her in height as she forced her way through, using her strength to force them to one side or another as she made way. She barked once more, scaring more out of her way, then dropped to the floor and slid on her back to pass between two of the teachers as she used her momentum to glide roughly on her jacket and the waxed floors.

Had that been... what was his name, 'Mr. Goody'? Didn't matter. She wasn't about to leave her younger self in easy reach of Hess any longer.

Cold, waxed tiles brushed at her long ears as she intentionally twisted and tumbled to roll back to her paws-no, feet-and get back to running. She shoulder-checked the stairway door, and the thick metal banged twice. Once against her hard shoulder, then it bounced off of the cinderblock wall to whip back shut from the sheer imparted momentum of her charge. Her aura senses began to faintly ache and echo with the frankly malevolent presence that Sophia had-no always oozed. A slimy smugness and almost predatory glee over the misfortune of others. Fuck it, she had a word for the bully.

Old and claustrophobic concrete walls found themselves pockmarked with pawprints slamming into them as Taylor ran up the stairs fast and furiously enough to have to push off the wall as she rounded the landing and bent the metal railing out of place. She skidded to a halt at the next floor, chips flying as her toeclaws dug into the concrete as she slammed up against the door. Pressing up against it, her ears flicked as she listened and picked through the sounds, honing in on... her own panicked screams from down the hall and behind metal. Right.

Dashing again, Taylor slammed through the door and was off down the hall; this time not even caring if she outright body-checked students. The Protectorate would throw an Exploud level fit, but as she shoved through the throngs of students and then the throngs of The Trio's onlookers and hangers on she was finding it harder and harder to give a damn. Hearing her younger self's terrified screams and begging being drowned out by the jeers of the three human-shaped... GRAH-fucking Spiritombs tended to do that to someone.

"Right in the filth, Hebert. Right where you belong," came Emma's taunting voice over the crowd's murmur. Taylor had forgotten just how... twisted Sophia had made her.

Merris(?)-Morrison... the third One tittered at the joke, coming up with a bad one of her own, "Yeah! Don't worry, I think the janitor takes out the trash at the end of the day."

"What did you ever see in her? She can't even get out of her locker in the morning!"

Ah. Well, that tore it. She remembered that voice. Taylor Growled as she forced through the remaining layers of the crowd looking on with varying degrees of maliciousness, enviousness, and helplessness-all the while snarling at the sheer injustice of what her younger self was in the middle of being put through. Shrieks of surprise and terror were music to her ears as she forced in.

"Aww, what's that, Tay-loser? Is that you trying to pretend to be a dog? Do you want to fetch some wit, huh girl?"

Students screamed as Taylor pounced forward as she lunged for them, bursting through the last rank. Her arm outstretched into a flying arm-bar and crackled with a Thunder-Wave as she Glared at them, the Trio turning to see her coming with undisguised shock and horror. "Hey, Sophia! FETCH!"

Taylor had mostly picked up her taste in one-liners from her Deputy, Owlin, over the years. But, that was hardly what gave her joy as she soaked in the schadenfreude of Sophia realizing that she was seconds away from being laid out by an arm coated in electricity. That was satisfaction itself, utterly sublime as the electric pop of the discharging move washed over them.

Sophia and the other two were flipped onto their backs as she swept her arm through the motion, and they slammed back-first into the floor one after another. Taylor took less than a second to soak it in before continuing her sweep forward so she could dig her fingers into the vent holes of her locker. Metal screeched and rent asunder as a heavy auric... weight, for lack of a better term, settled onto the tableau. With a wrenching twist, she ripped the door completely off and adjusted herself to catch her suddenly limp past self as she slumped and tumbled out of the locker. Her right nub adjusted to gently catch her sister, easing the soiled teen into an embrace.

"I've got you. Hang on, I've got you," Taylor crooned into her younger alternate's ear as she dropped the sodden and crumpled locker door to the floor so she could slowly lower T-oh, Darkrai, she was going to need a nickname or some other way of keeping her mentally separate from her younger self. It was going to be a Mew-tangle of an issue to find a good system of mentally referencing one another. It'd always been that way.

She refocused on the problem at hand, and focused her aura to start producing the Dew of Life from her fingerpads and palm to start easing the systemic shock and cleaning her younger self. Okay, the Lifedew, subtly began infusing her younger... sister with the energy to heal from the damage she'd done to herself in her panic and prevent infection from the utterly rancid shit in the locker.

"Holy shit," Someone vaguely familiar sounding from the regathering crowd whispered as the slowly pressing teens watched her healing... well, Tay. "She just leveled them. What kind of crazy cape is she?"

"You there. What's your name?" Taylor asked commandingly as she pointed her muzzle directly at the gangly, awkward pile of insecurities.

The nervous teen pointed at himself and then swallowed back his hesitant fear with a gulp that was audible to the normal humans around him as he stammered out his answer. "G-Gregg..."

"Gregg, I need you to first go to the nurse's office. When you get there, tell the nurse on duty to clear off their beds for three patients. Then, and I want you to make clear to them that this is a serious matter with an actual no-Muk nonsense seriousness, get them to get ready to document these three idiot's condition," Taylor looked down at the Trio, who were quivering and arcing occasionally with Electric energy as the paralysis wore on. They were fine. Stronger than normal reaction, but they were squishy humans. She took a deep breath and slowed her sprint on her command voice, giving Greg a more compassionate tone as she continued, "Sorry. I've just had a very important and stressful day twice. Once you're done at the nurse's office, I need you to go to the school administration and explain to Principle Blackwell that she needs to be ready to explain her negligence to the PRT in no uncertain terms. Take a photo or two if you need to. Can you do that for me?" She put on a bit of a pleasant smile as he nodded hastily, taking out his own cellphone and taking several pictures. "Alright, go."

As Greg nodded again, turning around and stumbling through the crowd in a frantic run, Taylor grit her surprisingly whole teeth. She was certain she'd lost a few from that time that Mewtwo used her to beat an ingot into shape with her face. Great, just great. Her 'I will make Arceus turn himself inside out and eat his stupid ring if he asks me to do one more thing' face was on. She needed to smile more, put on a pleasant tone. No teeth, though. Her normal smile made small children cry. Less of that.

"Show's over. Go to your classes, everyone," She commanded, the bark of anger in her voice driving most of the students off and leaving just a few staring on from a distance.

Her younger (and better-maned) self stirred as the old lady shifted her, laying her into the Lucario's lap slightly in order to keep up the Life Dew with her right stub as the sheriff raised her left hand. That had been raised in order to make a display of the old lady's mastery of the arcane arts. The Paralyze(d) forms of the Trio were carefully levitated and floated over to provide easy access to maintain the status effect on them. Though, to her surprise, they were showing far fewer signs of resisting the effect than she expected.

Her younger, human self murmured something, stirring only slightly from her catatonic state as the filth was cleaned from her scrapes and injuries. Taylor couldn't tell what she was saying, it was so hard to tell. A delirious state, perhaps, caught in an unpleasant dream.

Taylor looked back to the Trio with a disdainful glare as she considered them; her analytical mind thinking through it. Well, their guilt would be quite easy to prove if they were foolish enough to just write it down. Her aura receptor lobes and her eyes flared with her psychic power, and she telekinetically turned out all of their pockets as she checked them. Evidence had to be collected, after all. They all moaned and mumbled in their helpless states-probably insults against her and her parentage, but she hardly gave a damn. She easily found Emma's and- ah, right, Madison-that had been her name-Madison's phones, checking them and noticing rather juicy messages right there on the past received text log on the lock screens. Now, she still needed to find Sophia's. Ah, there!

Sophia's personal phone-and Shadow Stalker's work phone tumbled out of hidden pockets on the troubled monster's jacket lining and were promptly scooped up with the now former-sheriff's power. Taylor flipped the more ruggedized phone a few times to inspect it, looking for signs of how to unlock it. A small little pad-button on the bottom of the front face sparked an old memory in the old Lucario's mind, especially as Sophia muttered a vague death threat at Taylor recognizing it. Taylor cracked a small little lupine grin as Sophia squirmed harder, making more angry mutters of murderous rage. A right index finger was carefully picked up and pressed against the button, unlocking the phone as Sophia's murderous rage intensified. Taylor looked at the set of icons, and disregarded the PIN input. Oh, yes, she very much would like to call the console.

"This is Console. What is the emergency, Shadow Stalker?"

"She is the emergency, I'm afraid," Taylor answered grimly as she listened to the mutterings on the other side. She shifted the phone, carefully moving it so she could hold it against her ear in the bluish-purple psychic grip. "Sophia-" She said, carefully emphasizing that they would need to respond to a civilian identity, "Is currently under a... Citizen's Arrest for Assault, Attempted Murder, and probably a few other charges you may want to slap on her."

Sophia groaned in the ominous silence, trying to say more depreciations against the Lucario. Taylor ignored her as she looked around and growled fiercely at the regathering crowd of students after covering the mic with a shielding dome of air held in place. They scattered with a set of yelps and other scared phrases, the majority quickly scattering to the winds. The old sheriff rolled her eyes, and turned her attention back to the commotion she could fairly hear on the other side of the line as they scrambled to respond.

"Hold please."

"I won't go anywhere. I am currently engaged in keeping Sophia and her accomplices detained, along with performing emergency first aid on their victim to prevent widespread infection and septic shock from the biological attack that was performed on her. Said accomplices include one Emma Barnes," Taylor helpfully added with a particularly viscous glare at the girl in question. Emma's eyebrows twitched as she tried to figure out what Taylor was going at, before paling as the Lucario nodded grimly. Pulsing another wave of life dew over her younger self, Taylor looked down at her younger... 'sister' to carefully watch how the dew seeped in and absorbed into her nicely. 'Tay's breathing slowed with each pulse as her exhausted and delirious gaze shifted up to look blearily at her.

"This is Armsmaster. We have your location and are en-route. Please explain," The terse and clipped tone of her former coworker called over the line. It brought a strange nostalgic twang to Taylor's heart as she found herself remembering their time together-for better and worse.

"Ah, good, C-Armsmaster," She started, catching herself from making a critical mistake Mareepishly.

Taylor shook her head, mentally chastising as she started again. "The whole story is too long, and unfortunately contains a sufficient level of Sensitive Information to make discussing it before securing the location inadvisable," She began, giving him good enough reason to hang back on directly asking for an explanation with an appeal to his efficient nature. He wouldn't want to openly talk about a Ward in public. "The best summary would be that Sophia's character witness lied for her in a misguided attempt at friendship, and her parole officer either was given poorly worded orders or was actively complicit in... certain crimes."

She could hear the grinding of teeth on his end as he processed that. She was at least continuing to try and keep to what she remembered of his foibles, and sticking to the facts in such a way that kept the fault directly off of him. "I have preserved the evidence, prevented the Trio of conspirators from... absconding with several items, have them in custody, and I am providing- err, 'parahuman' healing to the victim," Taylor continued, making it clear that the situation was under control. She squashed her instincts to be somewhat more familiar. She hadn't had the two years of working with Colin alongside Dragon to forcibly... remove worst aspects in the new... Timeline? Universe? She'd had exactly three time travel incidents before her latest bout, and it had been maddeningly hard to decide on terminology every time.

"Detained how? And what evidence?"

"Sophia and her accomplices have been reversibly temporarily paralyzed to prevent their escape. I can provide curing upon your arrival to detain them. I have their personal electronic messages, the crime scene, and I am aware of the location in which to find the victim's personal record log. This has been ongoing for more than a year, I am afraid. If you wish, Pancrea can also reverse what has been done. If nothing else, it should wear off in no more than a day," She expounded, frowning as she heard him growling faintly on the other end. He probably didn't even realize he was doing so. "The situation is mostly contained. If I may make a suggestion, I believe I have a good cover story."

"Elaborate."

"Blame me for your involvement in order to hide your... PR disaster. I would count as a-" What was the exact way to say it again? It had slipped from her mind. "I would count as one of the permanently altered capes, thus providing an excuse for your presence. It isn't exactly right, but it should be close enough."

"Your name?"

"Taylor Hebert-former Sheriff of Oasis."