Enter the Wyrm Chapter 5: The Unbearable Lightness of Pancakes, a Shadowrun + Worm Crossover fanfic

A/N: As a reminder, this is a humor fic. So to any ardent fans of Victoria Dallon that might be reading, please remember its humor. No actual Dallons were harmed in the writing of this story.

Chapter Five: The Unbearable Lightness of Pancakes

Emily Piggot hated change. Change almost universally sucked. She hated getting up in the morning, and she hated going to bed. She intensely disliked getting into the shower, but hated getting out just as much.

Her doctors were threatening her with dialysis if her kidney function got any worse.

As a young up-and-coming PRT agent, she loved orange juice in the morning and screwdrivers at night. Now she wasn't supposed to have orange juice or vodka. Instead, she had unsweetened coffee and an unsalted fried egg on white bread for a late breakfast. The weight piled on even if she starved herself, so she didn't bother trying any more.

With this as the backdrop for her Monday, what wonder then that she was very unamused when she got to her computer to find her email box spammed with emails from the mayor, the governor, their senator and their representative, as well as a note from Costa-Brown's office in Washington. And all because of a video of her new ward…

"She ate Oni-Lee."

The words did not sound any more believable two hours later, while talking with the two women in her office, than it did the first time she uttered them.

"She did," Miss Militia said. "After eating the hand of one ABB member, and the foot of another. And then she cited our Operations Manual, which she memorized the first night she was here, to justify the reasonable defense of a civilian as her excuse for deadly force."

"She didn't use deadly force," Emily pointed out in a very reasonable, professional scream. "She fucking ripped out his heart and then ate him!"

"And felt no remorse in the slightest," their second guest said.

Emily glared at the rotating psychologist, Jessica Yamada. "So, she's a sociopath? Our newest ward is a sociopath?"

Yamada shook her head. "Director, I don't believe she's a sociopath. For us, eating another human being is cannibalism. It is an ancient taboo. For her? She does not see herself as human, so we're all food."

At that moment, Emily Piggot hated the world. "So, we've signed a Ward who will go around eating everyone who irritates her?"

"Of course not!" Milita blurted.

A second later, Yamada said, "It depends on how bad they irritate her."

Even Militia looked stunned as she turned and stared at the counselor. Yamada crossed her legs and placed her arms in her lap, looking composed and elegant in her beige blouse and navy slacks. "When I asked her if she was angry about Oni Lee threatening her friend, she asked why she should be? After all, she ate him, so what was left to be angry about? Much like a snake-once it bites you, it's done. Taylor will not hold grudges, I don't believe, because that would require her to care about the person she was angry about. She doesn't, at all. So, if you irritate her, she'll swat you away. If you make swatting hard enough, she'll just eat you."

"Even...even if we ask her not to?" Militia asked.

Yamada shrugged. "I asked her what she would do if Lung attacked her. She laughed and said he probably tasted like chicken."

Emily felt faint and wondered if they hadn't done the hemodialysis correctly.

"What do you suggest?" Militia asked. "We can't just let her go around eating people!"

"Put that in the Operations Manual," the counselor said.

"What?"

The doctor chuckled. "Taylor's mind is really quite extraordinary. Her perspective is utterly alien to anything I've ever encountered before. But that said, she's not motivated by malice. Surprisingly, what she's most motivated by greed, which her father said came with her transformation. She very much wants to make a bed of gold. And the idea of eating thieves appeals to her immensely."

"So...greed." Emily understood greed. "Could we use that to help control her?"

"Absolutely," Yamada said. "Put it in the operations manual, and add a fine for any time she maims a civilian. The thought of losing something that she thinks is hers is quite disturbing to her. That alone might be enough to curb any excesses such as we saw with the civilians."

"But not Oni Lee?"

"The man attempted to cut her best friend's throat. I can't say anyone else attempting the same would do better. Emily, let me be clear. The girl that you see in your office is just a projection. The dragon is who she actually is."

God, I wish I could still drink. "She's doing her power testing now, right?"

Militia nodded. "Armsmaster took her and the testing team to the Smuttynose firing range. They didn't want to try anything on the Rig."

She couldn't fit anyway.

"Okay. Fine. Dr. Yamada, please write up your recommendations. I'll get Rennick on the OpMan revisions. Militia...get word out to your street contacts. Let them know that...just talk to them. Warn them."

Militia nodded somberly. "I will."

~~Wyrm~~

Emily was on her tenth hour of work with no end in sight when Armsmaster walked unannounced into her office. He did not wear his armor, though. Instead, he was dressed in pressed black slacks and a PRT casual polo, his face protected by a mask and a security pass hanging form a lanyard around his neck. In one hand he carried the thickest damned power testing report she'd seen. In the other, he brought a bottle of bourbon.

Without a word, he dropped the telephone-book sized report on her desk before fishing out two shot glasses. He wordlessly poured her a sniff before doing the same for himself. He knew she was on the verge of needing dialysis, and should not be drinking. Equally alarming, he didn't hesitate in removing his mask. That alone told Emily a lot of the day's testing. He hadn't done anything like that since Gallant's power testing.

Emily sighed. Without even looking at the report, she said, "She's a Master, isn't she?"

"That's not the worst of it, but yes. Master 6 at least," he said.

Emily coughed, then downed the shot. "What is the worst of it?"

"Pull up the PRT-reviewed video of her confronting the ABB. Look at the 3.29 minute mark."

Emily did so, watching the hateful video she'd ordered her people to scrub off the internet, where the monstrous dragon-girl lowered her head and glared at the ABB until they all clutched at their head and...and…

Screamed.

"Fuck me gently with a laser saw! She's telepathic?"

Armsmaster answered with another shot, followed by, "She's telepathic."

Emily pulled the huge book over and opened it to the summary page. Pages. Ten summary pages.

There were currently twelve broad categories of parahuman classifications, ranging from a mover ability like Velocity's near light-speed running to Alexandria's brute package of strength, speed and durability.

Tiamat had almost all of them, many of which were obvious with any thought. She had massive wings and could fly faster than sound, so obviously she had a mover ability. She was obviously a brute, since she ate cows whole! And tractors too.

"Shaker ability?"

"She caught the whole island on fire," Armsmaster said. "She can vaporize rock with her flame breath. Or eat it. She ate a lot of the island." The man shuttered and downed another shot. She downed her second and continued reading.

"Animal control?"

"She made fish swim in formation," he said. "She described it as a magic spell."

"Oh shit. Another one of those?"

He shrugged; she kept reading.

Breaker? She was a fucking dragon. What didn't that break? Master? Tiamat compelled the research team to climb onto her back and rub her scales between her wings. Tinker rating? Her ability to detect tinker tech itself could qualify, even if only to eat it. Blaster?

Right, fire again.

"Thinker rating?"

"Enhanced vision, hearing, tactile sense, memory, cognition, and a type of paranatural detection she called astral projection. Again, a magic spell."

She did another shot. She was going to have another hour of dialysis Wednesday, she had no doubt. "Trump?"

The man shrugged. "She stripped one of Dauntless's empowered items of power."

"How?"

"She ate it."

Emily grunted. "Of course she did. Wait, a Stranger 5 rating? You said it was low!"

"My initial estimation was completely wrong. She cast a spell that made her invisible. While in her dragon form."

It wasn't just that she had ratings in every power classification they had-she had high threat ratings in each one! "How tough is she, Armsmaster? How would she do at an Endbringer fight?"

"Better than most, but that's all I could say," the Tinker said. "For the capes here? Lung is the only threat I can think of. And he'd have to be fairly ramped up to even get her attention."

"And according to Dr. Yamada, if he does, she'll probably just eat him."

"Wouldn't that be a sight to see?" the man said as he took his fifth shot. "Dragon and I have been researching. We can't find any record of a parahuman like Tiamat. The depth and scope of her power is off the charts. Eidolon levels. And even he can only use three powers at a time. Tiamat had fish swimming in formation while she melted the rock of the island and telepathically recited a play by Shakespeare she read four years ago. All this while compelling one of the researchers to do the Chicken Dance. While she was invisible."

"The video?"

"It's on a USB drive at the back of the report, along with Dr. Howell's official request for his dance to be redacted from the video."

"Howell. Isn't he the one who made Vista cry during her testing?"

Armsmaster smirked. "His dance is already on PHO. Anonymous sources."

Emily nodded. She then rubbed her face-her nose was numb. She couldn't hold her drink like she used to be able to, back before Ellisburg. "Do your very best not to mention Nilbog to her. The last thing we need is that disaster."

"Speaking of school," Armsmaster said. "It starts Monday, and Rennick's already received the Youth Guard notice demanding to know which school we're sending her to."

Piggot stared at the man. "I hate you," she said without heat.

He poured her another shot. "I know."

~~Wyrm~~

Miss Militia was really pretty without her mask, Taylor thought. She was pretending to be just an ordinary PRT agent, but Taylor recognized her scent immediately. Plus, she had a little callous on the bridge of her nose where her bandana-mask rubbed.

She drove up to Taylor's house in a regular old car wearing a nice pantsuit and blouse. Her power made a gun that she put in a shoulder holster, and she wore her PRT badge on the outside of the jacket. It looked pretty good.

Taylor flounced down the stairs-flouncing was a good word, she decided. Before she became a dragon, she never wanted to draw attention to herself. Now? Yes, flouncing was good. Even though her small form itched, she loved the way it drew attention from all the boys. She could smell their pheromones like perfume. It was like alcohol, making them drunk and stupid because of how awesome she looked.

Boys were pretty stupid. Pretty, and stupid.

She giggled as she climbed in. "Morning, Miss Militia!"

The woman blinked, frowned, then turned and stared at Taylor.

"Smell," Taylor explained.

"Right. Good morning. It's very important that you call me Hannah Washington out of costume, okay?"

"Sure. We're going to get Emma, right?"

Militia blinked once more. "I wasn't aware Miss Barnes went to Arcadia."

"Sure she does. I told her we'd give her a ride."

Taylor smiled to make sure Miss Militia knew everything would be okay. The steel teeth didn't reassure the woman. But what was she going to do? Taylor was a dragon. All other arguments were invalid.

Emma was at the bus stop with that parahuman bitch Sophia. Taylor growled when she saw how the interloper dared speak to her Emma. "Taylor, why are you growling?" Militia said.

"I just need to get Emma."

"Taylor, wait…" She seemed alarmed as Taylor opened the door and stepped out.

The car stopped moving a few feet later, squealing loudly, but Taylor didn't care. The other students stared in alarm. Sophia actually flushed and took a step back from Emma.

Emma sighed. "Taylor, aren't you going to Arcadia?"

"Yeah. Come on, we need to go."

"I didn't get in, remember? I'm going to Winslow."

Taylor laughed. "You're so funny! Come on. I can fly you, if you want."

The other kids, mostly freshmen like them or kids too poor for cars, stared at Taylor in shocked admiration. Taylor preened, then grabbed Emma's hand and dragged her to the car. "You'll love it!" Taylor declared.

Emma didn't bother arguing. Militia had stepped out of the car and watched. "Miss Barnes," she said. "I'm Hannah Washington, Taylor's...escort for the day. I wasn't aware you attended Arcadia."

"I wasn't either," Emma said, shortly before Taylor tossed her bodily into the backseat before climbing in after.

"I originally turned down Arcadia to be with you, Ems," Taylor said as Miss Hannah climbed back into the car. "Since they decided I had to go to Arcadia, well...you'll have to come too."

Miss Hannah sighed. "Taylor, that's not the way it works."

Taylor smiled at her. "It'll work out. 'Cause the only reason I'm going, and the only reason I'm staying small, is to go to school with Emma. So, you know, it'll work out."

"The law says you have to go to school," Hannah said.

"Law says people have to go to school. I'm a dragon. I read the law last night, there wasn't any local, state or federal statute addressed to dragons."

"You read the law?" Emma giggled. "All of it?"

"Well, only the Federal statutes, New Hampshire law and the Brockton Bay city ordinances. I read fast, but it'd take me a while to read all the state and local laws."

Militia visibly shuddered. Taylor didn't understand the fear response she smelled from the woman. She leaned forward and very gently patted her on the shoulder with her clawed hand. "Don't worry, Miss Hannah. I don't want to be a lawyer."

For some reason, Miss Hannah didn't say anything. She just started the car and drove them to school. Taylor turned and winked at Emma. "So, did I tell you that I think I've convinced Aegis to let me lick some Vitamin E oil off his…"

"Taylor!" Miss Hannah shouted from the front seat.

"I'll tell you later," Taylor said.

~~Wyrm~~

Taylor set the metal detectors off. When the security guard walked over, she smiled at the man.

He turned a strange color of puce before Miss Hannah rushed to his side and began talking urgently to him. Taylor laughed, grabbed Emma's hand, and pulled her into the school. She could feel every set of eyes around her staring, and she preened. "I really like being so pretty," Taylor said. "Was I pretty before I became a dragon?"

"Not as much," Emma said. "That chest of yours is like a weapon of mass destruction."

Taylor looked down and grinned, flashing her steel teeth. "Aren't they awesome? I don't even need bras, they're like permanently perky!"

A nearby student ran into a wall hard enough to cry out and fall on his ass. Taylor tried not to laugh too hard. Boys were stupid. "Come on, I smell breakfast! I got a special dietary needs card! Do you have any money? You'll need to buy your own."

~~Wyrm~~

"A fucking elf? Really?"

Kristy Peters nodded so hard her braid came undone. "Serious, Vicky! She's in the cafeteria now eating like...like the whole breakfast bar!"

Tammy Tsu and Macie Cormorant both added their assertions to this most unlikely of circumstances. Vicky Dallon, also known as the hero Glory Girl of New Wave, had a hard time believing that an elf was going to her school. If some Case 53 cape showed up, the PRT would have notified New Wave, wouldn't they? Or at the very least, Dean would have…

"Oh thank God, I caught you!" Dean, her aforementioned boyfriend, said. She beamed. He came whenever she thought of him. She had him so well trained!

"What's up? Why are you out of breath?"

"I needed to talk to you!" he said. "Ladies, mind if I steal my girlfriend?"

Kristy, Macie and Tammy gave their giggling assent. "We'll be in the cafeteria, watching the show," Macie said.

"So, what's…" Vicky didn't have a chance to finish the question. Dean grabbed her arm and pulled her into their homeroom.

Mrs. Vanderheim was already there, and stared at the two in surprise. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Dean closed the door. "Sorry to bother you, ma'am. Professional necessity. I've been asked by the PRT to talk to Vicky about the new student."

Mrs. Vanderheim was the only teacher who knew who all the Wards were. Every one of them had her for homeroom. Which meant her room was a safe place to talk before other students showed up.

"What the hell's this about, Dean?"

"Vicky, remember that video you shared? With the dragon?"

"Oh, yeah that's...no."

"Yes."

"No fucking way!"

"Language, Miss Dallon," Mrs. Vanderheim said without looking up from the lesson plan she was finishing up.

Vicky winced. "The dragon's a girl?"

"The girl's a dragon," Dean countered.

"Same thing!"

"No, it isn't. Vicky, she's a dragon. She's not a girl who has a dragon breaker state. She's an actual, fire-breathing dragon. Did you see her eat Oni Lee?"

"That video was a lie. PRT said…"

"PRT pulled it because it scared the sh…" He glanced at the teacher. "Daylights out of D.C. She tore out Oni Lee's heart and ate it. She maimed two ABB members for hurting her friend earlier. And when she was introduced to the Wards…" He shook his head. "She's smart, Vicki. Smart like a thinker smart, but she's not human. She doesn't think like a human. And if you start something, she will absolutely kill you. She has an armed PRT escort to protect the students from her. She's that dangerous. So please don't' start anything with her."

There were many things about his urgent sincerity she could have focused on. She chose the most important. "You don't trust me!"

Vicky chose not to hear Mrs. Vanderheim's snort.

Dean stared at her for a long moment as if she'd just kicked his nuts. "That's...I just told you there's an honest-to-God man-eating dragon, and…" He shook his head. "Fine. Just make sure your sister's nearby."

With that, he opened the door and left.

Mrs. Vanderheim sighed. "Mrs. Dallon, a somewhat well-known author noted there are two elements in the universe more common than any other. One is hydrogen. Perhaps in time you'll figure the other out, but not here. Now please go away and let me finish my lesson plan."

"Weren't you supposed to do that over the summer?"

"After thirty years of lesson planning, I find what once took days now takes the twenty minutes before the first day of class. Go away, Miss Dallon."

Vicky went. She knew it was going to be a bad year when Mrs. Vanderheim started the attitude even before class started.

The halls were unusually empty. But as she made her way to the cafeteria, she heard a low thrum of noise that reminded her of basketball games. When she reached the cafeteria, she saw a solid line of students inside. She cheated, using her forefield and her strength to get through the press of people until she caught a glimpse of what everyone was looking at.

Holy shit. Macie was right.

Vicky didn't know what the hell Dean was talking about, the girl was obviously an elf. She had long, pointed ears sticking out of her long black hair, and had that teen-age boy fantasy look to her, with a stacked chest and hips that didn't belong anywhere outside of a porn website. She'd worn a blouse with a low neckline that showed off more cleavage than the school dress code allowed and….

Wait.

What the fuck?

The girl just stuffed a stack of ten pancakes in her mouth. At once. Vicky moved closer, and realized her friends weren't lying at all. The new girl had an entire steel tray right out of the cafeteria in front of her. It was dirty-with mute evidence of eggs, bacon, sausage and pancakes, enough to feed fifty kids. It was almost gone now.

Beside her, looking confused and embarrassed, was a more humanly-cute red-head. And standing behind them, looking flustered at the crowd, was an armed PRT officer with her badge out.

The woman was desperately scanning the crowds for any threats until she saw Vicky. Her eyes widened, as if in horror, but anything she said was lost in the excited talking of the crowd. Worst of all? The girl seemed to be eating it up, preening and pushing her chest out and making every boy and not a few girls stare entranced. This...could...not...stand!

Vicky bullied her way forward, and as she went the other students finally realized who was in their midst. And it was about damned time-this was her school and…

"You can't have any of the pancakes, they're mine," the girl said by way of greeting. There were twenty left.

Well, if that wasn't a challenge, I don't know what is.

"Looks like you have more than you need," Vicky said as she pushed her aura out powerfully enough to make the redhead quake. "Maybe I'll…"

To Vicky's utter shock, the PRT agent pulled a massive hand cannon from her jacket and pointed it right at Vicky's head. "Miss Dallon, report to the principal's office right now."

"What? I'm not…"

"I have an emergency dial phone to Director Piggot," the agent said. "Go, now!"

The elf girl smirked. "Told you, the pancakes are mine."

"Oh, fuck you," Vicky said. She knew the agent wouldn't fire. Her forcefield might deflect the shot into the other students. More importantly, this new girl needed to be taught a lesson. She leaned forward and with more strength than was called for, reached for a pancake.

"Oh god, don't eat her, Taylor!" the red head howled.

It took only a moment for Vicky to understand what she meant.

A very painful moment.