Chapter 3
PRT HQ
22:02
Director Emily Piggot stood at the head of the table, studying each of its occupants. Miss Militia was a dark haired and olive skinned woman. She wore a scarf and sash around her waist patterned after the american flag; she wore stylized, fitted army fatigues that accentuated her curves. Her bottle-glass green eyes shone with displeasure and annoyance, mostly directed at the bearded man in midnight blue armor at her side.
"So," Director Piggot spoke, her fingers folded as she sat behind her desk. "We apparently have a new healer cape in the city and she seems to be versed in PR maneuvers." The bleached blonde woman glared at Armsmaster. "Beyond that, what do we have so far?"
The confrontation Armsmaster had with the new cape calling herself the Abbess had been recorded and distributed on PHO and YouTube. Certainly, the lower quality of the video made it difficult for people to hear what Armsmaster and the Abbess were saying, but him holding onto her and trying to pull her to the PRT van and her resisting implied that he was forcing her. There were already allegations of abuse of power toward the PRT and the Protectorate circulating on other forums dedicated to Cape watching.
Armsmaster was quick to give his opinion to escape his female subordinate's gaze. "A brute obviously, able to materialize metal constructs with elemental effects."
The video being projected on the wall behind Emily showed the Abbess exiting cover from behind a tower shield and wielding a war axe. The video was low quality and from a bystander's phone, but they could clearly see what was happening as the nun costumed girl switched to a hammer form construct coursing with electricity mid-battle.
The girl's speed was preternatural and she moved agilely and gracefully in three dimensions, taking advantage of the terrain. Blood flowed and bones were crushed each time she moved. After she finished with Cricket by breaking her neck, she slammed her hammer into Stormtiger, he was slammed into the wall behind him so hard he stayed embedded in it.
Then she proceeded to heal them, Emily judged by the sort of trauma the Abbess had dished out that some of those members were too far gone to live, but her healing power seemed to be powerful enough to get someone back on their feet after such punishment.
"A combat thinker and a healer." Miss Militia stated the obvious.
"Another grab bag… what's up with this city?" Piggot lamented.
The director had been seeing an assortment of powerful capes in the area since she had been instated. They came and went, either skipped town when they triggered or died thanks to the major gangs in Brockton. Most joined a gang, whether they wanted to or not; Emily was sure that there were a lot of Parahumans staying anonymous to avoid coming to the attention of those major players.
Others were like the Abbess and became vigilantes until they fucked up and were forced to join either the Protectorate or the gangs.
Armsmaster interrupted Emily's musings. "She gave me another tidbit of information, she claimed that she already has a team."
Emily froze. *A team?* Her imagination went wild as she saw multiple individuals wearing indecent fetish costumes and wielding close quarter combat weapons and fileting through the E88. She dreaded the ensuing mess that it would create.
"Are you sure? She sounds quite crazy to me." Emily said, not wanting what she imagined to be true.
Armsmaster was about to reply to her when Renick, the Deputy director, brusquely entered the room, interrupting the meeting. "Sorry for being late. Someone just posted a high quality video of the confrontation between the Abbess and the E88 capes and mooks."
Silence spread as everyone looked at each other in shock, they had thought they had confiscated and erased all of the available videos.
Director Piggot closed her eyes for ten seconds, her fist closed and her knuckles cracked. "Please tell me the rest of the video stops at the confrontation between the E88 and the Abbess."
Renick crushed her hopes with his next sentence. "No, the… argument with Armsmaster has been seen too. It already has one hundred thousand views."
Miss Militia and Armsmaster leaned forward and hoped that this wasn't the worst case scenario and that their PR wouldn't take a nosedive because of this. The heroine glared at Armsmaster again who stoically tried to not speak up and question Renick.
Fortunately for him, Emily asked what he wanted to say to the deputy director. "Can't we take it down?"
Sighing heavily, Renick looked tired. "I did that already, Ma'am, but there's already copies everywhere."
Everyone turned their attention to the blue armored hero who said nothing; he stubbornly stared ahead, everyone could see his expression as he didn't have his helmet on.
Director Piggot menacingly called him out. "Armsmaster…"
She was tired of the man and his gloryhound ways, they wouldn't be in this mess if the man wasn't always looking to better his standing by bringing a healer into the protectorate. Emily had no trouble seeing what he wanted to do, his attempts were all too transparent to her. She preferred working with Miss Militia, who was a 'by the book' Protectorate Cape, but wasn't blind to social interactions.
Armsmaster was a lonely man whose career was everything to him, he had deliberately forgone having a family, friends, or a personal life to be as good as he was lauded to be. Secretly, Emily found it sad that the man had nothing but his job; she didn't want to end up like him.
Renick's phone beeped, he excused himself and took it from his belt pouch; as he read his smartphone's screen he cursed. He looked up, coughed and addressed his audience. "Ah, the young woman, Abbess just posted on PHO and declared: 'I don't think I will heal any PRT personnel until I receive an apology'."
Armsmaster narrowed his eyes, showing signs of emotion for the first time, looking at his damaged gauntlet with finger indents on them.
The Director reacted to this badly. "The little…"
Miss Militia didn't agree with Emily's sentiment. "Calm down, Director. She's within her rights to withhold help and what she's asking for is reasonable."
Emily calmed down, Militia was right and they were clearly in the wrong because of the tinman.
"I disagree. If we give in, others might attempt the same." Armsmaster's voice was tinted with reluctance and pride.
Militia's eyes zeroed-in on the man, she wanted to say something scathing but reluctantly didn't. Director Piggot didn't have to refrain from doing so and simply told him, "Armsmaster, you got us into this situation, it's up to you to fix it, capiche?"
"Yes." The man said between gritted teeth, he really didn't want to lower himself. But he agreed that he could have handled the situation better, he was a chump at social interactions and it showed.
Miss Militia asked, "What do we do about this new cape?"
The Director took on a thoughtful expression, after thirty seconds of deliberation she gave the two capes their instructions. "Observation only, if you and the wards come into contact with her, they can speak to her but stay cautious. She's a violent one after all."
The way she had dispatched her foes made the Abbess a superior fighter and Emily wasn't sure that she was showing all of her tricks.
"We should invite her to stay and register as an independent affiliated with the PRT and undergo power testing, if she has a team like she said, they might follow her example." Renick continued.
Emily wasn't surprised that he offered such a solution to their problem, he had always been the most diplomatic of them. But she doubted that this cuckoo nun would go for it, Emily shrugged.
"Understood." Miss Militia nodded in assent.
Emily slapped the table and rose from her seat. "Dismissed, I need to go back home now. See you at the Gym shift tomorrow morning, Militia."
"Yes, ma'am."
Everyone stood up to leave the room, Armsmaster was the only one who sullenly exited, last, musing about crazy nuns.
~o0o~
November 7th, 2010
"Wakey-wakey, Taylor." A female voice full of mirth.
Taylor woke up with a start, as she opened her eyes she saw a white sky; bleary with sleep, she sat up and looked around. The landscape had changed and was full of metal like constructs in the form of an arch. As she looked behind her, she saw that the arch had an entrance and an exit leading somewhere. Crouched at her side was a shorter gorgeous blonde with green eyes and a fit body covered by the full Witchblade's armor.
"Who are you?! Where am I?" The fact that she was in unfamiliar surroundings quickly woke the brunette up and the Witchblade instantly shredded her pajamas by covering her in a metal bikini.
The blonde woman didn't lose her smile and stood up. "Ah that's easy, I have the answers but first I want you to calm down."
The gauntlet on Taylor's right hand had sprouted a long curved blade without her input. She didn't want to attack yet and the woman wore an armor similar to the one Taylor had, so she must be connected to her in some way. The woman held her hand to Taylor to help her stand up, the teenager looked at it for a few seconds before taking it. She pulled Taylor up and smiled.
Opening her arms grandly, the blonde woman beamed at her. "Welcome to the Crossing, my name is Danielle Baptiste and I am one of the previous wielders of the Witchblade."
The name immediately had morbid connotations for Taylor and the explanation of the woman, Danielle made it worse.
Taylor panicked. "Am I dead? Did I die in my sleep?!"
Danielle chuckled at the young woman's distressed look, letting her do so for another ten seconds before putting her hands on her hips and saying with a soothing tone, "No you aren't dead Taylor, you don't necessarily die when the Witchblade detaches itself or passes on to a new wielder."
This was news to the brunette. "But I thought-"
With a tut-tut sound coming from her, Danielle said, "Listening to Witchblade is all well and good but it only gives you basic information, there's a reason for that: as with a bit of imagination from the wielder it becomes a terrifyingly adaptive weapon."
Taylor blinked at that, it meant that there was more to the symbiote-like sapient weapon than what it told her. The presence of Danielle here was the proof of that, but why was she here? "Why am I here?"
Danielle walked up to her and stopped at just a meter from her, looking into her eyes. "One of your gifts is to be able to channel past wielders memories and skills, though not everyone here will want to help you, but a minority of us don't want you to die right after becoming a wielder, so it was decided that we would train you."
"What do you mean we?" Taylor looked around her, but didn't see anyone beside Danielle. "Are there others?"
The blonde smiled awkwardly as she said, "Yes, I was chosen to be their spokesperson as I am the more diplomatic and less irritable or quirky one amongst us."
Taylor didn't know what to say to that, but she tried. "Oh, uh… yes, you do have an easygoing aura about you."
"Thank you." Danielle nodded at the tentative compliment.
The two women looked at each other silently, Taylor was gauging and taking the measure of the blonde; as for Danielle she stood there ready for her questions.
Taylor bit her lip as she found the woman attractive and her type. She stopped her mind going further into the gutter and asked, "Um, so are you going to be one of my teachers?"
*If she is, I will have a hard time focusing.*
"I am indeed, you see, I was a dancer and entertainer, I will teach you a lot of things Taylor, mainly how to carry yourself, work with a team, speak for yourself and be socially aware. You may be a witchblade wielder but if there's something my life as one taught me it's that you need others to help you smite evil."
The brunette put on a serious expression. "I will take all the help I can get, this power is a big responsibility and I don't want to mess up…"
"Good, just as I expected, you are not drunk on the power you wield, the Witchblade chose well this time too." Danielle said with approval as she crossed her arms. "I will work you hard and we will work on this self image problem you have." The blonde woman sent a predatory look at the brunette before her.
Taylor bristled under her attention and stepped back from her.
Danielle laughed and continued speaking, "Fortunately for you, Taylor I won't be the only one to take some of your time."
"Leung Lin Yao, Nissa and Red Sonja, Shiori-Sama and Joan will be your martial arts and combat instructors, fortunately for you the time in the Crossing can be slowed or sped up, you'll receive years of instruction from them." Each time Danielle gave Taylor the name of one of her instructors, an armored woman appeared behind her, they were all prime examples of womanly beauty, different strengths and looked dangerous and deadly.
Taylor was intimidated and felt like an ugly duckling amongst them. "Err… Hello everyone."
"Call me Sifu." The asian woman in green ancient armor narrowed her eyes and looked sternly at Taylor.
Taylor had seen enough Chinese movies to know what to do, she stood straight and cupped her fist in her hand before her and slightly bowed her head. "Greetings Sifu…"
Lin Yao nodded in acknowledgement, happy that the girl had some manners. The next wielder to speak had a different opinion.
"She looks weak Sonja…" The blonde barbarian woman, Nissa, said to the redhead.
"I disagree, Nissa, she has potential; she just needs to be taught. Hello, Taylor." The redhead clad in what amounted to a chainmail bikini waved at Taylor. "We are going to have so much fun."
Taylor wasn't so sure about that, she began to understand why Danielle was chosen to speak to her first. Joan, the woman with short hair and an easy smile leaned against her spear and nodded at Taylor. "The Almighty has made you the next chosen, I will train you as much as I can to prepare you for your quest."
"And for the arts of subtlety and politics, your teachers will be, Katarina and Queen Cleopatra." Danielle announced.
A woman in a black bustier, and tight leather pants and boots with an array of 18th century weapons covered by a grey cloak appeared, she winked at Taylor who smiled back, she instantly liked her. Then the regal and most beautiful woman Taylor had ever seen appeared in motes of golden light.
Taylor's eyes widened. "Oh my god. You mean The Cleopatra, the ancient Queen from Egypt?"
"Yes she is. You don't have to bow or anything though." Danielle looked between the tanned beauty and the young woman.
Taylor still did bow on a knee, making the ancient Queen laugh and say, "Rise child."
The brunette was starstruck, then she realized that Joan might be Joan of Arc, another historical figure.
After letting the girl introduce herself to each of her combat instructors, Danielle touched her pauldron with a claw-fingered gauntlet and continued the introduction. "Well, Taylor we are done with the introductions of everyone. Though those are the most important ones, Sara, Enola and Lara are the last ones who accepted to teach you, and there are two others…" Danielle visibly gulped and said quickly to cover her apprehension, "but they want you to prove yourself first and show your measure before anything else."
The women didn't appear this time, and it made Taylor tilt her head. She then looked askance at Danielle.
Danielle put a hand on the girl's cheek. "Don't worry Taylor, they will show up later... when they are needed."
The brunette nodded at that then asked with an hesitant tone, "So, when do we start?"
"Now." Danielle smiled evilly.
Taylor gestured with her fingers twice. "Huh, now, now?"
Lin Yao walked up to her in a decisive manner, stopped and put a hand on Taylor's head. "Now."
~o0o~
8:45 AM
*One year, one fucking year training in the divine realm slash mindscape of the Witchblade.* The young woman lamented.
The Crossing was a dimension with a time dilation effect which caused one day or night outside the chamber to be expanded into one or more years inside. After learning Kung Fu, the art of war, how to strategize or hold herself in public and politically, Taylor had woken up, exited the Witchblade's metal cocoon completely exhausted and ate her home's entire pantry to feed her body the nutrients necessary to sustain the changes that the cocoon had made to her.
Her training in the Crossing had been carried out on her physical body, she had gained in muscle definition and her motor skills gained in the other dimension had followed her. The aches and pain did too; that was how Taylor walked stiffly and tiredly into homeroom class, the first of the school day. Her hair was in a ponytail and she wore a strapless blue top and a black skort; she had married the outfit with tights, combat boots and a black leather jacket that had belonged to Emma that Zoe Barnes had given her. In fact the redheaded woman had donated most of her daughter's clothes to Taylor after she had filled out. The woman knew she was a parahuman of some sort but didn't bother prying much.
After those sad thoughts, Taylor looked for a free seat and found one at the back of the room next to the windows giving a view on the interior gardens of the school. Taylor opened her bag and took her notepad and writing kit, set it before her and waited for her teacher to come.
It didn't take long for someone to come and bother her. It was a boy, a handsome black haired one with grey eyes, but he looked unsure of himself as he was faced by the gorgeous brunette.
"Hey, um you are new." His voice was deep and warm.
Taylor turned to him, and watched him more closely. He was her type but she wasn't showing any outward sign that she was interested, it was one of the lessons Danielle taught her in her one year stint in the Crossing.
Taylor gratified him with a little smile. "Indeed, I transferred yesterday. What's your name?"
He smiled back and introduced himself, hand held before me. "Michael, Michael Anderson."
Taylor took his hand in hers and shook it briefly. "Taylor Hebert." She gave him her name and nodded slightly.
He grinned and showed a set of perfect teeth that would not be strange to find on an ad for toothpaste. "Sounds French." he said.
As a matter of fact Taylor's grandfather's father was French. "My family is originally from France yeah, but we have been American for thirty years or so."
It was at that moment that a grey haired and solidly built man in a trendy outfit entered through the door, everyone around Taylor stopped with their conversations and adjusted their postures at their school desks.
Michael sighed. "Huh, Mister Morrison is early." He said as he opened his notepad and took a pen in hand. Then he smiled at Taylor and asked, "Say, wanna eat lunch together, later?"
Taylor feigned thinking about it with a finger on her lips, then she smiled at him; when the boy thought she would answer positively, she dashed his hopes. "Hmm, smooth Michael, smooth. But not smooth enough, sorry; Victoria Dallon invited me to her table."
*And I am not interested in romance for now.* Taylor thought, the Witchblade was jealous sometimes.
Michael deflated and reluctantly let it go. Taylor turned her attention to her teacher and listened.
"Everyone, greetings." The teacher saluted them. "Today we are going to speak about Joan of Arc."
Taylor smiled at that announcement. *Let's see if they have all the facts about my mentor.*
~o0o~
Lunchtime
Taylor sat before Amy Dallon. She looked tired and about to drop, the mousy brunette was idly playing with her food while Victoria Dallon was engaged in gossip at the other end of the table with Helen and Trixie. The healer noticed that she was looking at her. They stared at each other for a long moment before Amy broke the staredown first. "What?"
"You don't look so good, Dallon." Taylor said in a worried tone and took the brown bag with her lunch inside out of her school bag and put it on the table.
Brown eyes that had become red with fatigue, Amy answered tiredly, "I had a heavy shift at Brockton hospital, the leftover of the Merchants that Queen of Blades had turned into minced meat."
Taylor's eyebrows rose up in question. "Queen of Blades?"
Amy sighed heavily, let go of her fork and placed the flat of her hand on the grey table. She looked Taylor in the eyes, finding it strange that she was so uninformed. "That's what the PRT are calling that chick who took out the Merchants four days ago."
Taylor's face darkened, this was one of the things her mother had informed her about, the PRT often gave unflattering codenames to people not affiliated with them. It was all about their PR machine and their desire to control Parahumans, of course she didn't consider herself one, but it still pissed her off to be foisted with a name she didn't choose for herself. They made it sound like she was a StarCraft reject. Comparing her to Sarah Louise Kerrigan, the Queen of Blades, a woman who had abandoned her humanity and subjected it to atrocities.
Her anger boiling over, Witchblade's voice rang in her head and asked her to calm down. Taylor felt as if she had been thrown into icy waters and her mood settled down swiftly, she harrumphed and raised an eyebrow at Amy. "The name is kind of tacky… don't you think?"
Amy shrugged and took her fork back and began to eat her steak. "Mhm." She intoned.
She was really beautiful, but that beauty was hidden by the baggy clothes she wore, and the unhealthy pallor of her skin that was the result of her pushing herself too much. Taylor wanted to help her, something in herself told her that the girl before her needed help. It wasn't a surprise when Taylor impulsively asked with a slight white glowing hand hidden behind the metal pitcher of water, "You really don't look good, can I heal you?"
Amy Dallon's eyes widened and locked onto Taylor's right hand, as she swallowed her food at the same time it became stuck in her throat. She quickly took a swig of water from her plastic cup, managing to swallow down the piece of meat completely. The mousy girl wanted to shout loudly but composed herself, realizing that it would be a bad idea and whispered, "You want to what?"
Taylor's hand stopped glowing, she frowned at Amy's reaction. "I am asking you if you want me to…"
The mousy brunette looked around her in suspicion. "Shh."
Taylor looked at her with an eyebrow raised, not understanding the young woman's attempt to be discreet. She didn't care about being outed or some such, her mother was able to defend herself, and any gang members trying to recruit her wouldn't survive meeting her.
"Hebert, since when are you a…?" Amy looked meaningfully at the other brunette, silently continuing her question.
"It's been three weeks or so." Taylor confessed.
Amy sighed, looking annoyed at the other girl. "You can't just use your powers in public like this…"
Amy closed her eyes in frustration as she felt that Taylor was a newbie and had to be told how to survive this fucking city as a parahuman, she didn't like how oblivious the girl acted. She hoped that no one had seen or heard her.
Taylor tilted her head. "Your sister said the same about being a parahuman yesterday."
Taylor understood what Amy was thinking about and it touched her. *She's such a good person.*
"So that's why…" Amy stared at the other brunette, a wistful expression on her face as she remembered her sister asking her to keep an eye on Taylor Hebert and hadn't elaborated more than that; now she knew that the girl was a danger to herself. The E88 would kill for another cape able to heal.
"Huh?" Taylor was lost, not understanding what Amy meant.
There was silence between them, only filled by the noise of conversations and students entering and leaving the cafeteria. Taylor unwrapped her sandwich ensconced in preserving plastic.
"So, you can heal?" Taylor heard Amy ask.
Looking at her, the bespectacled brunette nodded. "Yeah, among other things."
Amy frowned, her brain going into overdrive. "The only other healer cape in town is that crazy nun- fucking hell, Hebert. It's you?!"
Flushing embarrassingly, Taylor narrowed her eyes. "It was a bad night and my first official outing, I even met that unpleasant man, Armsmaster."
Amy snorted at this, no one liked Armsmaster as an individual, he was a by the book hero and a gloryhound. "I understand, if you had gone with them they would have pressed for the wards."
Taylor chuckled. "Fat chance of that, I have a team." she said dismissively.
"So you are a combat thinker and a healer?" Amy continued as she finished eating.
Taylor was about to take a bite of her sandwich but Amy asked her question.
She nodded. "Yes, it's…"
Amy perked up as she just realized something. "Wait, you can come help me in the hospital!"
Taylor finally answered, "That was my intention, but I heard that you have to get through a battery of tests before being allowed to heal in hospitals. I don't plan to do it for free though, even doctors get paid for their work hours."
Amy Dallon kept changing the subject and it was difficult to adapt to her rhythm. Taylor wasn't used to interacting with other young people, Emma had been the only friend she had.
Amy tensed, her voice dangerous. "Are you implying something about me?"
Taylor feigned not hearing the warning in Amy's voice and continued speaking. "Yeah I do. You are killing yourself Amy, it's clear to me and I am sure for others. You look like you are about to keel over, if that's what you get for doing it for free, no thanks. I am sure people take you for granted too."
Each point she made in her explanation was spot on, reducing Amy to silence. It was galling to the healer that Taylor guessed her problems just by looking at her. But what Amy didn't know was that people from Lustrum's fallen group kept tabs on her, Annette Hebert had thoroughly briefed Taylor on the capes present in her daughter's new school to keep her from being blindsided.
It was against the rules, but the Heberts' all thought those were silly in the first place. Taylor stared into Amy's eyes. "No, I'm going to heal people like a doctor would, my family needs the money… though, I plan to heal kids and babies for free. Maybe add a free healing day at random each week." Taylor said reasonably.
Amy didn't say anything at first, but the longing expression on her face made Taylor frown. "You know, I like that plan. I wish…" The healer tried to say.
It had always seemed strange to Taylor that Amy, as Panacea, didn't charge money… People were already horrible, but if a service was free they didn't respect you for it. Basic marketing. "Why can't you charge for healing? It's your power, you should be able to do what you want."
Amy looked down at her plate before her. "My mom… Carol, she said I shouldn't…"
With the teachings of Cleopatra and the social cues inherited from Danielle, who suddenly appeared behind Amy as an invisible projection, Taylor recognized signs of abuse. Maybe they were physical? Amy's clothes showed that she was either covering wounds and bruises or she had a lower self esteem and wanted to hide, another cue that demonstrated that the abuse could also be mental.
She was snarky, cynical and withdrawn with everyone but her sister that she seemed highly devoted to. Taylor narrowed her eyes, her saving people thing activated. Putting her sandwich on the table, the brunette said, "I see, Amy… you know that you are a hero to me?"
Amy didn't say anything but look at her, judging her.
"And an amazing person to boot, with unique talents." Taylor said low enough only for the healer to hear her. "I feel that you are not told that enough by those who matter to you, you should have more faith in your abilities and the connections you've made with everyone you helped save. You have kept more people alive than the entire protectorate of this city, single handedly."
Amy nodded, she at least knew that; the statistics were there on PHO for all to see. Amy would like to have such conviction when she spoke to others. Taylor continued to rant, but she listened. "You have to stand up to your mother, girl. You can't let her walk all over you like this, I don't know what's happening behind closed doors at your home but you look like you need someone in your corner."
It was the first time someone she barely knew had seen the problem: her mother didn't love her, at all. Her aunt Sarah and her kids were either ignorant or refused to see the problem. Vicky saw it but was too afraid of their mother to act. Amy had a plan to get emancipated and leave New Wave to be away from Carol at all cost.
In a rare moment of weakness, Amy said, "She-she thinks I will become a villain… and-"
Amy saw Taylor's silver bracelet quiver as she tried to speak, the bespectacled brunette put a hand on her jewelry and covered it with her jacket's sleeve. Then she snorted dismissively at that idea. "I don't understand your mom. You, a villain? She forces you to heal without receiving remuneration, right? You slave away trying to save people and she treats you with mistrust..."
Amy nodded, indeed; Carol seemed to act more like a villain than her. Oh, how she wished to say that to her adoptive mother's face. Amy sighed, bottling up another fantasy to put Carol in her place. *Not yet.*
Taylor didn't like Amy's mom. "But yeah," the brunette continued. "Dallon, don't destroy yourself by allowing negative people to add gibberish and debris to your character."
Amy smiled and held her hand over the table toward Taylor. "Call me Amy."
Taylor reached out, took her hand and shook it. "Then call me Taylor."
They took their hands back, Taylor finishing her rant with, "Just ignore her, but I doubt you can as she lives with you... she seems to have made up her mind about you, if healing people until you are weak with exhaustion didn't convince her that you are a good person… then nothing will; Never seek to please anyone. Seek your happiness elsewhere."
Amy understood, she had resolved herself to do that already.
"If you ever get in trouble and need somewhere to bunk, I can accommodate you for a while. My mom would help you, I am sure."
Amy was surprised. "You'd do that for me?"
Taylor said warmly. "Sure, why wouldn't I?"
And that was that. Amy leaned into her seat, watching the girl before her; she was mildly interested by the speech Taylor had given her. Not everyone treated her as… Amy. They always saw Panacea first. But Taylor was a healer too, and she didn't need any of her services or what she could do for her as the premier healer in the world. She suspected that Taylor might take that title away anyway, good riddance.
Taylor smiled, oblivious to the thoughts Amy was having; then finally took a bite of her sandwich.
~o0o~
School gates
15:35 PM
Taylor was surprised to be caught by Amy Dallon and her sister at the school gates; they invited her to come to the boardwalk with them. As the diligent daughter she was, she called Annette first who gave her permission to go and to be home by six. Going via SUV, the girls quickly went on an adventure, not realizing that they might find trouble.