The Rewrite of Levels starts now!
I have decided, rather than add another story file to my too long list of incomplete adventures, I will simply add this on to the one it pertains to anyway.
I know that some of you have been eagerly awaiting this day. I know that an equal number, if not more, have been dreading it. Well, You can all thank the gentleman that left the following review:
damn i thought this was the other Taylor/DBZ corss.. yours is the one where Tattletale ends up with her Taylors power plus her own (but somehow is just slightly behind Taylor at all times..because Taylor started first...weakest plot devise ever)...after you make her act all crazy and then Taylor ends up pathetic and all of that on top of your complete uninterest in adding any form of detail to your story... You like you boring pointless dialog shoved into a bare outline form, with weak fights thrown in..no passion, no creativity, no DEPTH! Read a damn book before you write! NOONE WRITES THIS WAY FOR A REASON!
This wonderful review, that the reviewer took precious time out of their day to write specifically for me, was left by a guest, so I can not thank them by name- screen name, that is- for inspiring me to continue.
Before I begin with this, allow me to simply say that I love and cherish every single review I receive. Your opinions matter greatly to me and I will always read every single one with a smile on my face and a warmth in my heart.
Now, Please Enjoy!
Chapter One: Level One
Taylor Hebert, teenager, high school student, Strongest Bitch on the Planet.
The tall, skinny girl skipped home merrily after another thrilling day of classes, enjoying the sun shining down, the flowers swaying in the gentle breeze, and the sounds of a happily bustling city.
What a load of shit…
Of course, none of that was true.
Taylor Hebert limped home through the chill wind of a stormy day in a city that was dying of the festering wounds inflicted by Parahumans with too much power and too little moral fiber.
She was beginning to feel that there was no justice in the world. If there was, why would people like Lung have the power to rip a city apart at his own whim? Why would good, normal people be afraid to go out after dark, simply because their skin wasn't the right color? Why would those who genuinely wanted to help be left with piddling little powers barely capable of being considered a special skill, let alone a world changing ability?
You see, Taylor was special. She was a Parahuman. She, however, was nothing like Lung, Alexandria, or any number of others who were gifted with the power to rock the world when they were roused. She was special. She just wasn't that special.
The skinny girl continued limping home, trying to get her pain under control enough that her father wouldn't notice she favored her left leg when he got home. Her eyes followed the movement of the people coming and going around her, breaking down every motion, down to the very last detail, and making a startlingly accurate prediction about what they would do next.
The woman to standing outside of a flower shop was speaking into a cell phone, her hand was moving upwards. Taylor knew that she was going to brush her blonde hair behind her ear and then check her eyebrows. She would be able to copy the motion perfectly, should she wish to, but there was no point.
Fucking figures… her thoughts echoed in her mind like a howling wind, cutting deeper into her damaged psyche, I trigger and get the ability to copy signatures. Useful for getting out of detention and going to prison for forgery later in life. She huffed angrily, and moved quicker, keeping her head down.
Earlier that day, she had been walking down the hall, trying to keep from staring at the other students and attracting attention, but the sound of Sophia's snicker was enough to get her to look up.
The black track star was moving right towards Taylor, Madison Clements and Emma Barnes watching intently, a smirk on her face. The skinny girl's perception of time dilated, as it always did when she used her ability to it's peak, and she could see exactly what would happen next.
The muscles in Sophia's left leg were tensing in a particular fashion that indicated a swift forward kick. The kick would hit Taylor's shin with just enough force to be extremely painful, and to leave a nasty bruise, but would make it look like her victim had simply tripped and hurt herself.
Taylor could see, in perfect detail, that if she moved six inches to the left, Sophia would kick the knee of the person behind her. She could also see that she didn't have the necessary speed to do anything aside from falling to the left rather than forward.
"Fucking bitch," she muttered under her breath as she very carefully navigated the steps on her porch to keep from aggravating her minor injury.
The girl didn't bother to do anything aside from step into the living room after hanging up her coat and pour her homework out onto the coffee table in the living room. She sighed deeply as she looked at the assignments and make up assignments she was supposed to complete before the weekend was out.
She picked up the worksheet from the class that was attended- not taught- by one Jeremy Gladly. Mister G to his students. The only member of the faculty at Winslow High School she hated more than the apathetic bitch of a secretary.
She tore up the assignment and shoved the pieces back into her book bag, no intention of seeing them again until she had to dump it out again on Monday evening.
Instead of starting work on anything else, she organised it, then turned on the television. The household income, such as it was, was insufficient for a decent internet connection. It was hardly enough for the basic cable package that she was making use of.
The first thing that came on was a live action movie, based on an anime called Dragon Ball Z. The plot, she was told by her father in one of his rare shows of passionate emotion since her mother's death, was a crime against the source material. Taylor didn't particularly care about any of that. She thought the guy in the lead role was rather attractive, and she felt for him, having to deal with bullies of his own.
She sat back on the couch, preparing to simply enjoy the eye candy, even if it wasn't a movie she would normally watch, when her ability kicked on without her say so.
Goku, called Geeko by his bullies, was dodging his tormentors. It happened in slow motion to her, her ability predicting every minute motion that was to follow based on everything that had happened so far, ingraining the motion into her very muscles.
Geeko dodged and weaved, tricking the other boys into beating one another up, then confounding their leader into destroying his own car. The bullied boy never even laid a hand on his aggressors, and still they were all down for the count.
Taylor just sighed, hating that her power, weak as it was, wasn't even fully under her control. She didn't want to know any of that, any of the fine details of that choreographed fight scene, but it made her learn it anyway.
So depressed was she that, before it could get any deeper into the plot, dealing with ki blasts and monsters and Dragon Balls, she turned it off and went into the kitchen to prepare dinner.
By the time her dad got home, she was halfway through a plate of pasta.
"Hey there, Kiddo," he said to her, "How was your day?" If it had been a month ago, it wouldn't have been asked with any real interest. They had mutually alienated one another since the death of Annette-Rose Hebert that it was almost shocking that they still made the effort to eat meals together.
After the locker, however, he had become generally, annoyingly invested in her daily struggle. She still didn't let him in on any of the secret campaign against her, doing her best to convince him that the locker had been the end of it, but he still persisted, wanting to know of anything was wrong.
"Been better. Mister Gladly is still an incompetent dandy that insists he's fully accredited, but other than that it was okay," she shrugged, standing up to plate some food for her father.
Unfortunately she put too much weight on her left leg and limped heavily.
"Whoa! Are you okay, Taylor?" The man was up to his feet quicker than she could have ever guessed he could be, "What happened?" he demanded.
"It's nothing," the girl said, waving away his concern, "I stubbed my toe earlier, that's all."
"Really?" he asked slowly, still standing and looking her in the eye.
"Yeah," she lied easily, "I bumped it pretty hard on the coffee table just a little while ago. It won't even be a memory tomorrow."
"Ouch," he nodded, commiserating.
"Tell me about it," she set the plate for him, making a concerted effort not to trip again.
They lapsed into silence after that, only the sound of their eating filling the air.
After a minute, though, the sound began to disgust the teenager. The squishy sound of chewing, the screeching of metal forks across the ceramic plates, the subtle glug and gurgle of liquid sliding down Danny Hebert's throat every time he took a drink of his beer. It all became too much for the girl.
Normally, she might turn on the radio. Right then, it was on the counter to the right of the stove and she would have to get up to turn it on, causing more pain in her leg. Instead, she decided to talk to the man before her.
But about what? What could they possibly talk about? She was vaguely aware of his position as the manager of the Dock Worker's Association, and that he was having a hard time drudging up work for his boys. Bringing that up might bring down the mood. There was no way she was going to say anything more about her day and accidentally give away any of the details that she was keeping to herself.
That left only one topic of conversation.
"So, I watched that Dragon Ball Evolution movie, today," she said, watching as his eyes lit up at 'Dragon Ball' and chilled to ice when she added 'Evolution', "It really wasn't so bad, what little I saw of it. I think you might have judged it a little harshly." She didn't say that the only reason she liked it so far was the fact that the main character was cute.
"That is unacceptable," the man said simply before standing up from the table and leaving the dining room.
Taylor sighed, heavily. Trust me to fuck up something as simple as talking to my dad. She tried to ignore the prickling sensation at the corners of her eyes that foretold of unwanted tears. She picked up her plate and started to stand up to go do the dishes when her father's voice came from the living room.
"Taylor, come here," he said, not quite sternly, "It's time, I think, we gave you a proper education."
That had the girl frowning. She walked into the living room, expecting a scowl of some kind, probably ready to talk about the deficit on her last report card and enforce some new, pointless rules about her work ethic.
What she got was the tall, slightly balding, equally skinny man standing there with a DVD box set that read 'DRAGON BALL' on one side in his hand and a soft smile on his face.
"Lesson one," he said, sounding serious, but still smiling, "This is Dragon Ball. This is a masterpiece. This," he held up an unopened DVD of Dragon Ball Evolution, "is an abomination. Come sit on the couch. We can squeak in a few episodes before I'm too tired to stay up anymore."
Taylor, not quite sure how to react, moved to sit down on the couch, her dad joining her, after retrieving a couple of pudding cups and a pair of spoons for them to snack on. He hit play and the anime began, telling the story of a young boy with a monkey tail who grew up in the mountains, far from civilization.
Taylor was suffering from depression, lack of self esteem, paranoia and a host of other problem, only some of them physical.
You wouldn't be able to tell that, by listening to the two surviving members of the Hebert household laugh, sometimes uproariously, to the Japanese cartoon that had shaped a generation.
Three episodes in, Taylor was leaning against her father's side, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Five and she had retrieved another pair of pudding cups for the both of them.
Seven in and Danny had finally succumbed to his exhaustion. Taylor turned off the TV before the next episode, something about the Kamehameha Wave, could start. She had a smile on her face as she looked at the DVD box. That was the most fun she'd had in two years. She hoped they could do this again, soon.
+-9002-+
And thus begins a somewhat different tale of Taylor becoming the best there ever was.
Power Levels!
Taylor- 3
Danny- 12
Sophia- 30
Emma- 7
Madison- 4