Disclaimer: From the source, to my brain, to my fingertips, to this. I don't own the source(s).
Guest (who got deleted for saying I'm limiting my audience with the diction used in this fic):
*looks at everyone else*
*looks at you*
*laughs in Eldritch and writes another chapter*
And now…
Number 1 – wait, wrong fandom.
Ahem. Now, for a brief interlude, where we find out what happened to the fifth ABB guy and Danny gets some time to shine! Enjoy!
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Worm: Babel
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Interlude 1
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Lin Chao was not a good person.
Given that he was a member of the ABB, one might think this statement redundant. Lung did not abide weakness of the stomach, or any sort of weakness really, and this paradigm was reflected in his unpowered forces.
Yet Lin was one of those in the ABB seen as a necessary evil, in the eyes of the members of that gang who patrolled their lord's domain, sold his drugs, and staffed his brothels and casinos. The latter two of those professions needed a steady flow of customers, while the former required more soldiers on a regular basis. The E88 wasn't known for its tolerance and merciful nature, after all, and the less said about the Merchants being drug-addled trigger-happy idiots, the better.
So Lin, upon joining the ABB after dropping out of Winslow two years ago, became a 'recruiter'.
This is not to say that he went around to bars frequented by men of Asian ethnicity, extolling the virtues and benefits of working under someone like Lung. No, far from it; Lin's primary duty was in finding vulnerable young women of potentially weak will and pointing Lung's slavers at them, or deciding which of the latest crop out of Winslow would be best suited for the grunt work of patrolling Brockton Bay's Docks.
It was a carefully honed talent, in his mind, being able to get someone's measure with a quick once-over. He'd been doing it for years, and hadn't ever been caught; that was another carefully honed talent, being able to blend into the crowd, just another face, no one to worry about.
The job was thankless, Lin felt at times, especially when he was just starting out and the screams of the women would haunt his sleeping hours. But the pay was good, the women were better, and the screams eventually bored him with their sameness.
It was around the same time as when this boredom developed that he began joining in with the slavers as they 'introduced' their latest whore to the delights of working for the ABB. In Lin's eyes, it was easier, if he was the one making them scream.
And, Lin found, he was good at making them scream.
That the Oni paid well for each young woman he delivered freshly broken to the brothels only helped.
Business had been slow, though, in the lead up to the American holiday of Thanksgiving; girls were being more careful with their outings in his usual stomping grounds, and winter was coming, which meant more of the little sluts would be covering up, hiding their assets from the world.
So Lin decided to branch out a little. Sure, the area he had in mind was contested territory, with his own ABB comrades duking it out with the PRT and E88, fighting for dominance of the area regularly, but Lin wasn't afraid of being found out. He knew these streets, knew where the camera blind-spots were, and knew where most young girls hung out.
Still, he didn't think he'd find his next mark at a goodwill.
Long fit legs, nice black hair, wide mouth that Lin felt could be put to good use, and graceful in her step. That she dressed like some 50's church girl didn't matter to him; all Lin saw was money, and maybe a crack at her, once she'd been working at the brothel for a week or two.
Because if this white bitch wasn't a virgin, he'd eat his jacket, and he didn't like getting his dick bloody; no, Lin felt, it was better to leave this to the professionals.
So he rang up Clara and Honda, who'd just gotten out of the hospital after Shadow Stalker fucked them up, and told them about the chick. They were eager, but cautious; they told him to stake the girl out, find out where they could snatch her up.
Lin watched her for two weeks, and found that, some days, she walked through the neighborhood he was lurking in. It was how he learned that the future slut went to Arcadia, and always wore dresses. Stupid white girl. That'd just make popping her cherry easier for Honda, and the big guy agreed when Lin had him over at his apartment for beers a few days ago.
When he saw her walking home today, he didn't think anything of hopping on his bike and calling Honda before circling around the bitch's chosen path.
Lin didn't think anything about grabbing her as she walked by, at Clara's insistence, and tossing her roughly into the alley he and his friends were lurking.
Chuckling to himself as she was gagged and dragged further into the alley, Lin Chao took up a leaning post at the alley's entrance, lit up a cigarette, and settled in to listening to the sweet sounds of the bitch's first time while making sure his friends didn't get interrupted by some cop.
He thought nothing of the laughs of his comrades, or the muffled shrieks and struggles of their victim.
No, Lin was content to keep an eye out and make sure no pigs came calling; not that he was worried. Most everyone was either inside or driving around this less-often used street. By the time he was done with his fag, Honda would be done with the bitch, which meant Mizuki would stick her with some cocktail that'd keep her quiet and hooked, and then Lin and Clara would bring the car around so they could take the bitch somewhere more 'comfortable', where'd she be properly trained after being introduced to her new sisters.
Same song, mused Lin as he took a drag and Clara laughed about something the bitch was doing, same fucking chorus.
And then it all went wrong.
Claws of ice raked down his back in the wake of a sound that was not a sound, a deep thrum of the air that rattled his bones like a cannon had just gone off next to him. So surprised was Lin that he dropped his cigarette as he whirled, reaching for his knife and gun, and looked with wide eyes into the alley.
His mates were gone. The girl was gone, and so were her bags! It was like no one'd ever been there.
Lin glanced up at the sky, expecting to see some flying cape, New Wave or those toddler Wards carrying his comrades and the little bitch, but there was no one there either.
In spite of appearances, Lin wasn't stupid, but the lingering fear of those claws drove him to action. He pulled out his cellphone, a durable clamshell; one call to the Oni and –
The screen was melted to the keypad. "Fucking bullshit powers," he swore quietly, chucking the piece of smoldering plastic into the alley and booking it toward the nearest safe house, eight blocks away.
Lin knew the area, likely better than most others in the gang he ran with, so he took other alleys; he turned his ABB jacket inside-out and walked quickly but calmly whenever he needed to use the sidewalks.
The girl he'd marked was a cape, she had to be, to not only melt his phone, but she'd done something to Honda and Clara and the others; this was the summation of Lin Chao's worried thoughts as he made for the last alley. Once he was out the other side, he'd be home free, the safe house only half a block to the left. He'd borrow one of his brothers-in-arms' phone, let the Oni know about the girl, and then it'd be out of his hands.
But Lin wasn't stupid; he kept his hand on the gun tucked into his waistband as he entered the alley. You aren't safe till you're out of the open. That was one of the first lessons he'd learned on joining, and it'd kept him alive. Lin wasn't gonna breathe easy till he was among his mates again.
He was halfway down the alley, heartbeat finally starting to slow as he relaxed, figuring he was home free, when someone entered the alley and came his way.
They held a cane of darkened wood, and were dressed in an all-white outfit; a fucking all-white three-piece suit, with matching shoes and fedora. What set off alarm bells in Lin's mind was that the man's hands were covered in dark leather gloves, and their sunglasses were red-lensed…
And the cruel smile on their olive-skinned face was directed at him.
Lin drew his gun. The man didn't break stride. Lin flipped the safety off and cocked the hammer, "Get the fuck outta my way, man."
The man in white stopped walking, but rather than balk before the weapon, his smirk only grew, "I'm sorry, but this is a dead end."
Ignoring the shiver that ran through his bones at that drawled statement, said with a slight British accent, Lin snarled right back, "You see this, asshole?" he jerked the barrel of the gun, the nickel plating flashing in the late-afternoon Sun; but the man in white just continued to smile, pissing Lin off, "Fuck outta my way 'fore I blow your brains out, bai mogui."
This wouldn't be the first man he'd killed, but Lin felt this asshole was just too calm…
A niggling suspicion touched his thoughts before being verified by the person(?) before him, "Ah, I don't think I will," a soft click came from the cane, "Not after you aided your comrades in assaulting my… associate."
Then the asshole revealed that the cane was actually a cane sword; the blade was black as night, and only made the man's continuing grin look even more sinister.
Not that Lin was scared; his thoughts on the stranger's weapon could be surmised as, 'Who the hell even uses those anymore?!' As for his actions…
Lin set his jaw and put his other hand on the .45 and aimed at the man's center mass; only idiots aimed for the head in tight spaces, and this guy was giving him a real bad vibe.
But that was because this fedora-wearing idiot was apparently in league with the cape that'd kidnapped his friends.
Like hell Lin was gonna back down! "Last chance asshole. Walk away or I'll put a hot one on ya."
The stranger's smile became a showing of teeth, and they were sharp as a shark's as they readied that weird blade, "To the death, then." The man in white lunged forward –
Lin fired off three rounds, the gunshots strangely muffled, but that was the least of the gangster's worries; all his bullets hit, either side of the chest and one in the gut, but the bastard just kept coming! Still fucking grinning!
Jumping back so he could avoid a lunging slash, an alarmed Lin got ready to fire again –
And got the butt of the cane right in his nose, stunning him, the man in white having thrown the sheath.
Lin's next panicked shot went wide, the white pain of his broken nose throwing his aim off.
A stinging pain, above the wrist, and then he couldn't feel his hand.
It was then that the stars left his vision, and revealed to Lin that the reason he'd lost feeling in his right hand was because it was gone. The stranger had cut it off, and the limb was now lying behind the softly laughing bastard.
Mind reeling in terror and excruciating pain, gorge rising as the horror became nauseating, Lin opened his mouth to cry out, or puke, but never got the chance to figure out which his body wanted to do, as the man in white brutally slammed the crook of the cane-sword into Lin's throat.
Falling to his knees with a choking sound, unable to breathe and trying to stem the flow of blood squirting from the stump on his arm, Lin nonetheless heard the stranger through the ringing in his ears that followed the blow.
The obviously inhuman individual that'd just taken him apart like a novice spit some blood to the side before speaking easily, as though the bullets in his chest weren't a problem, "I must confess, Lin Chao: I find a certain satisfaction in taking someone apart in single combat. Quite the novel activity, especially considering my usual duties don't allow for such base pastimes."
A gloved hand, colder than ice, wrapped around Lin's jaw and dragged the weakly struggling man nearly to his feet; another pommel strike to his solar plexus cleared Lin's airway and sent a glob of blood and bile splattering across the immaculate suit of his tormentor, who chuckled dryly and continued, "Indeed, I don't usually dirty my hands with such lowly grunt work, but, given that your informing your bosses of my associate would render decades of careful planning and prep null and void… let's just say I feel inclined to indulge myself."
Right as Lin regained his breath, and thought to grab for his knife, the stranger sheathed his sword beneath Lin's diaphragm, twisting the dread blade in the ABB man's spine.
Choking in pained horror around the blood filling his throat as he lost feeling in his legs, his subconscious screaming its swan song in his mind, Lin found his face being turned to gaze, through darkening vision rimmed with pained red, upon the visage of his killer.
Shivering at the vision of those grinning shark-like teeth, a maze of blood proving that his bullets had done something at least, Lin's last sight was of the Man in White reaching up with a hand to remove his sunglasses.
And the last thing he heard was:
"Now look upon the truth of what you tried to kill, Lin Chao, and despair."
The glasses came off.
There were eyes.
There were teeth.
There were things that shouldn't be.
Things that stained Lin Chao's soul to the marrow.
Words that weren't words, indescribable in their resonant babbling, tore through his mind.
And Lin Chao's last thought was that trying to kidnap the dress-wearing girl was the worst decision he ever made, right before the sight of the Crawling Chaos tore his mind apart and his soul was dragged screaming madly into oblivion, feeding the Outer God's endless hunger.
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{/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\}
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The Man in White chuckled to Itself as the weak-minded ant withered and crumbled before the sight of It's true self. The human was merely a single drop in an endless river that nourished It, sent to each of the Thousand Faces so that they may continue to maintain the Boundary.
And yet, It had not lied to the little fleshbag; there was a certain enjoyment in completing It's goals personally. From the pruning of Taylor's mind to ensure her success, to uprooting these weeds from the garden of It's plan…
All of it would come to a result that would benefit It, and fulfil It's duty. The Boundary would remain firm.
And Taylor Hebert would be indebted to It even as she was raised up above the rabble.
Dusting Itself off, the Man in White repaired his suit and the body It was currently using with the most minute flex of will, and collected the sheath of the cane-sword; idly, it recovered the pistol that the insect, the one It'd just eradicated, used to shoot It.
Knives and swords were the Man in White's preferred methods, as was the wont of several of It's Thousand Faces, but It might need this weapon for It's next mission, myriad light-years from this world.
Seven bullets remained, fair condition, no dents, yet the pistol hadn't been cleaned for some time.
"Of course," drawled It disgustedly, looking at where Lin Chao's body would have fallen… if It had allowed the corpse to continue existing, "Moron. Charlatan. Dolt. A gun is a machine, and requires dutiful cleaning to maintain its accuracy and functionality, as all machines do. Why, I'm surprised it didn't backfire in your face!"
Ah, well. It would make better use of the thing. Good thing It was in Brockton Bay at the moment; locating an appropriate holster would be as easy as popping off to the nearest pawnbroker.
After all, Taylor had called upon It, unwittingly giving the Crawling Chaos direct access to her world. But the best part, the part that sent satisfaction whirling though It's many iterations, was that, due to the Black Pharaoh's interventions with her power at birth, The Warrior would see everything she summoned as a Master projection, would delight at the conflict she'd undoubtedly bring.
It was not the first time Nyarlathotep had played such a shell-game with the parasites, nor would it be the last.
Yet, this time, the end result would be an Old One, a mortal raised up to work It's will.
It would not be the first time It had done that, either.
Still, while he was here on this backwater and doomed world, the Man in White mused with a now-mundane but pearly-white smile as he walked away from the empty alley where he'd laid his trap for the unwitting churl… he may as well indulge in the local cuisine.
He didn't have to be anywhere for the next few hours, and there were so few places in the Universe that made good falafel.
Or tea. 'What is it with Earths and tea?' 'thought' It as it walked, no passerby paying the Man in White so much as a second glance as It walked down the street, cane tapping rhythmically, musing on why dried leaf juice tasted better on the various versions of 'Earth' than elsewhere.
Simultaneously, It laughed, though one of It's other faces, as another parasite was defeated on a far distant world, a Star Spawn tearing into the filthy thing's redoubt with a whip of Unflame.
The Star Spawn would die, certainly, but not before opening the way for Shub-Niggurath. Nyarlathotep cackled to Itself in It's temple as the Entity screamed in mind-shattering horror at the sight of the delighted Great Goat and her Thousand Young, come to feast upon it's fleshy body. The parasite would fight, but it would be for naught. R'lyeh had risen upon the thing's victim world. It's fate was sealed.
Much like Lin Chao's.
No police or gangster or bystander arrived to investigate the alleyway the Lin walked into and never came out of.
Lung knew nothing of the events in either alleyway, whether this one or the other that bore witness to Taylor's assault, and wouldn't ever discover them in their entirety.
No one heard the gunshots, or Chao's choking gasps of pain, or his dying scream echoing off the walls.
Indeed, no one paid that alley any mind for the next hour. In time, no one would remember Lin Chao or his associates, their very memory being wiped from human consciousness, those that knew them best eventually befalling some unfortunate fate.
Such is the ruthlessness of the Crawling Chaos.
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{/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\}
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Danny Hebert sighed in strained relief as he unlocked the door to his house, edging it open with his hip, as his hands were otherwise occupied with the grocery bags he'd hesitantly picked up on the way home from work.
For his darling daughter insisted, at length and with her usual intricate vocabulary, that they take their Thanksgiving dinner to Kurt and Lacey's tomorrow night. Her reasoning, which he had to admit was pretty good, was that going to dinner with his friends would brighten both family's night, as well as give him some company the next morning during Black Friday shopping.
He'd argued on the last bit, citing the family budget, but he didn't get very far before Taylor, bless her clever mind, handed him an entire folder's worth of deals and sales from all over Brockton Bay. Not just the mall, but for what few non-big-box department stores that hadn't failed in the wake of Leviathan's ruining the shipping industry, and a few mom-and-pop stores that hadn't gone under yet.
She'd even clipped coupons, something she'd always found time to do with… Annette… which, in his latest shopping trip, brought the bill from nearly $80 all the way down to $17. The cashier's face had been priceless. Danny couldn't wait to tell Taylor; about the face, not the savings. Even though she understood the principle behind sales, the math wasn't something she understood.
Smiling despite himself, Danny hung up his coat and glanced around the foyer, and the kitchen further into the house; Taylor's blazer and purse were hanging up in their usual spots, and there were a few seasonings out on the kitchen counter, so Taylor had probably already finished basting the turkey before putting it back in the fridge to marinate for the night and keep the oven available, in case he wanted to use it for dinner.
Her thoughtfulness touched him. Annette had done the same thing, before Danny taught his wife to cook…
Shaking off the morose thoughts, because if his daughter saw him moping she'd go off on him like a nun from the 19th century, he called out, "Taylor! Come help with the groceries!"
He had gotten a lot of food this time around, but most of it was canned goods, stuff that'd last so he wouldn't have to spend too much; it wasn't like there was a surplus of work for his boys and girls in the DWA, which, to his irritation, made things tight money-wise in the Hebert household.
But things would get better. They could only get better.
A startled "Eeek!" echoed down the stairs at his calling, as Danny walked back to the front door, followed by the sound of papers being flung every which way; a rumble of shoes later, he caught sight of his daughter, still in the black and white dress she'd worn to school today, for the first time since he came home.
He knew something was wrong as soon as he saw Taylor's pale face: her eyes were wide and rimmed with red, like she'd been crying, her mouth was pulled into a tense, nearly panicked frown, and her breathing was fast and erratic…
And the way she ran down the stairs carelessly before flinging herself into his arms, gasping fearfully, hit the last of his alarm buttons: something had happened, something at least on par with Emma's attempted betrayal.
"Taylor," he began once her shivering died down a little in her father's loving embrace, forcing himself to stay calm, "Tell me what's wrong. What happened?"
Around a loud sniff, she looked into his eyes tearfully and whispered, "I have superpowers."
Danny blinked. Then he patted her gently on the shoulder and smiled, "Oh. Okay. Help me with the groceries, and then we'll sit down and talk about it."
The look of dumbfounded shock on his daughter's face was almost as funny as the cashier's at the grocery store, though her weakly croaked, "Come again?" raised his worry a bit.
Though that was more to the question of 'What happened to her that she figured it out', Danny kept calm for his clearly distressed daughter and replied, "Taylor, you've had recurring dreams since you were three; recurring dreams that have, apparently, made you a genius at learning any language you come across. You read and memorized a dictionary that was printed in 1911 in eight hours, at four years old."
Danny smiled at his daughter as she blushed, probably at the reminder of just why she kept talking like a turn-of-the-century aristocrat, and wiped her eyes, looking a little better now that she was on familiar ground.
But Danny went on, because, while her mother had mentioned it to her, he hadn't. And that ended now, "Since then, you've used the same outdated vocabulary whenever you meet someone, or go to any type of party or doctor's appointment; not that there's anything wrong with that," he added, raising his hands in placation (he wouldn't even have known that word, if it weren't for Taylor) when she glared, "There's nothing wrong with you being polite with people, Taylor, but your mother and I managed to figure it out when you were eight and speaking German fluently. We figured it was a Thinker power, unless you've discovered differently?" Danny hoped it wasn't anything awful. Taylor was so gentle, and having an ability that could only hurt people would be so unfair to her.
To his unease, Taylor nodded jerkily, still looking a little pale and fearful.
Danny just pinched her cheek lightly with a sad smile, making his little girl give a cute pout and slap his hand away, "Help me with the groceries, kiddo. Then we'll talk about what happened, and just what your power actually does."
'And whether or not I have to kill someone for hurting my daughter and forcing her to figure it out.'
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{/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\}
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An hour later, with his second cup of coffee (shot of brandy for both cups; he'd needed it after hearing about the Crawling Chaos) held in his angrily shaking hands and his daughter nursing her own tea (two spoons of honey; it'd been a trying day for her), Danny had a clearer picture of what was going on.
That, and he was contemplating how to murder Lung without leaving his daughter an orphan.
Three men, and a woman, assaulted her on the way home from school. ABB slavers, she'd said, and they'd targeted her. His daughter.
Big mistake. Danny scoffed mentally, 'Big, titanic, fatal mistake.'
She was a parahuman, but Annette and he had long figured she was.
What they never guessed was just how her power would manifest.
Danny would've preferred butterflies, or maybe a singing voice that could turn the world into his sunny daughter's personal wonderland.
Honestly, he'd prefer anything, even Nilbog's power, to what his Taylor ended up getting.
Taylor… his gentle, polite, bubbly, wouldn't-hurt-a-fly Taylor… could shatter the walls of reality with a word, and bring monsters beyond the blackest imaginings of the worst B-movies of the seventies to life. Things that would make Escher, Nietzsche and King scream with insane horror at their worst nightmares being verified.
And four ABB gangsters made her use that power. Had tried to rape and enslave her.
She hadn't answered him fully when he'd angrily asked what happened to the bastards; instead, she'd just shivered like someone'd just poured ice down her back and squeaked, "Please don't ask, Daddy."
Glancing at the papers on the table, the notes bearing strange and twisting words interspersed amongst his daughter's shorthand, the pictures she'd made of her dreams, both from her art wall and from the lockbox under her bed where she kept the "less palatable" (her words) images of her dreams…
Danny could see why she didn't want to talk about it. The being that'd set his sights on her, the Crawling Chaos, sounded like the unholy marriage of a certain PRT Director and the world's most devious blood-sucking lawyer.
Except with terrible cosmic powers and uncounted legions of eldritch abominations at their disposal.
In other words, exactly as Danny imagined, just scaled up a bit.
And Taylor, his daughter, could communicate with, and potentially even summon, all of them.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Danny took a sip of his coffee and looked at his daughter; she was staring into her tea like it held the mysteries of the Universe, eyes and face empty of that delighted fire that even the death of Annette hadn't been able to extinguish. Dim, yes, but put out? Not Taylor.
A thought crossed his mind then, as he went over her assault once more, counting…
Oh, damnit, "So," he began conversationally, looking at his daughter curiously; she flinched and turned that owl-y gaze on him, "One guy threw you into the alley. There were two that checked your bags, one that pointed a crowbar at you, and one behind you."
Her eyes widened in realization, then began flicking side to side. He knew this face; she was trying to figure it out on her own. Danny already had a fairly good idea of what happened, mostly because Oni Lee hadn't come to visit. Yet…
And then she frowned, before letting out a hiss of… irritation? "Yes, Daddy, I think there were five people in the alley. Yes, only four were brought to the Pyramid," Danny suppressed a shudder; not somewhere he'd like to take a vacation, no matter how beautiful Taylor said those pillars were, "As for the fifth…" she trailed off with a shrug and swirled her tea, eyes going distant again.
"Know what I think?" Taylor looked up curiously at Danny's offering, "Given what you've told me he's capable of, I think that Gnarly-tep guy of yours hunted him down."
She blinked in confusion, "How… No, Daddy, that being is cruel, unfeeling even, and subtler than the Devil himself! He would never aid me in such an obvious way!"
"And yet he's chosen the most polite and well-mannered girl in Brockton Bay as his agent," Danny went on calmly, making his daughter blink more, "Not only that, but he straight-up told you he wasn't here for you, or even humanity, but for something that threatened us. Seems to me," he looked into his coffee cup as understanding dawned on his Taylor's face, "that setting you up to fail when you're just starting out would be… detrimental, to his overall plans. You miss one of the bastards that tried to attack you," he finished in a light growl, ignoring his daughter's whispered 'language', "so, seeing as having the ABB come calling before you can prepare for them would increase the chances of you dying, Gnarly-tep probably took care of it."
That's how it seemed to Danny, anyway, and the dark being had better have taken care of the missing gangster, or Danny might just have to have words with the being that'd taken his daughter under their wing without his permission.
Sure, he might not be able to do anything about it, but that didn't mean he couldn't make his grievances known.
Was there a complaints department for caustic, genocidal cosmic beings apprenticing teenage girls? If not, Danny mused while watching his daughter pinch the bridge of her nose dramatically, there really, really should be.
"It's Nee-yar-la-th~oh-tep, Daddy-"
"Poh-tay-to, Poh-tah-to," he stated blithely.
"-and… oh, who am I kidding, you are likely correct," Taylor huffed, pigtails bouncing as she managed to look prim and proper even while pouting and drinking tea.
"Of course I am," Danny smiled at his daughter's raised eyebrow, but went on seriously, pointing his mug at Taylor for emphasis, "I'm older, wiser, and have seen enough crazy sh-crap," he corrected himself at his now-superpowered daughter's withering glare, "in my time with the Dockworkers to know how villains think. I've had to do so to keep Kaiser off our backs, to say nothing of Lung, and this Gnarly guy sounds like both of them combined, then scaled up to the nines."
Taylor's lips pursed in thought, then she nodded, "Yes, I agree, your judgment of the situation is no doubt better than mine, sorely lacking in experience as I am. But what of that crass, foul barbarian, Skidmark?"
She hissed the name of the Merchant's leader with a sour expression that never failed to amuse Danny; the foul-mouthed (literally, he'd seen what passed for the slack-jawed fuck-wit's teeth, sadly) villain was practically Taylor's nemesis in every single way one could imagine…
Except powers. Danny was pretty sure the Triumvirate couldn't hold a candle to the sheer potential for destruction his Taylor was now in possession of.
"I think, Taylor, given everything you've told me, the Bay's more at risk of Skidmark offending your delicate sensibilities than actually being a threat to anyone else! I mean, what's he going to do? Insult your ribbons? Wear a tea cozy as a hat… or somewhere lower?" Danny let out a single, barking laugh at the affronted, scandalized gasp his daughter let out.
"Daddy!"
"Also," he cut in before she could insist upon her own preference for being the eternal Good Daughter, "You're going to make a list, as soon as dinner's done," and the meatloaf was coming along nicely, if the scent permeating the kitchen was any indication, "and while you're making that list, I want you to think of all the things you should never, ever, in a million years… do with your power, and write them down."
She nodded agreeably, eyes wide and serious, "Rules, yes. If I have rules…" she trailed off, glancing at the strange pictures splayed over the table, "…I can avoid accidentally ending the world."
Danny hummed and nodded. Just like her mother. "In addition, you'll show me this list, and I reserve the right to add to it as I deem fit."
"Of course, Daddy." Taylor gave him a watery smile, then darted around the table to give him a crushing hug, which he returned in earnest, "I love you."
"Love you too, sweetie." He kissed her temple; sure, today had been exciting, and the future was uncertain, but he'd help his Taylor see it through. That reminded him, "Oh, and you're grounded until the New Year."
She pulled away from him, "B-But Daddy!"
"No buts, young lady. You vanished four gang members and possibly unleashed an eldritch terror on the city; self-defense, yes, but you're still grounded."
"Daddy, I'm expected to attend a party in the suburbs on the Saturday a fortnight from now! I have an embossed and addressed invitation, from Dean Stansfield no less, and…" she trailed off with a blush.
Danny lifted an eyebrow in curiosity; had his daughter finally discovered a boy? A girl? It couldn't be Dean; according to scuttlebutt, he was dating New Wave's poster child, Glory Girl, and Taylor wasn't the type to drive wedges between people, "You have a date?" Maybe that Amy girl she exchanged emails with?
"I've already related the soiree's date to-"
"Drop the diction, Taylor."
She sighed and huffed, upset, but did as she was told, "No, I'm not going on a date. I wanted to go… because Amy Dallon will be there too. I'm… I think I like spending time with her, whether it's tutoring her in Latin or during lunchtime, and I want to become closer to her, in-in friendship, that is," she added a little too hastily to Danny's ears, "Not that I want to replace Emma, she'll need me once she gets out of the hospital," she added to Danny's curious head-tilt, "but, well… I don't have many actual friends, Daddy."
After thinking it over for some moments, mostly to make his daughter sweat at the idea of being denied attendance to a party with her first crush-that-was-possibly-more (because that's what he saw it as; he'd acted this same way when talking about Annette), Danny smiled, "With the exception of that party, you're grounded. And you'll be home by eleven, or you'll be grounded until the Sun burns out. Clear?"
His response was a shrill squeal of happiness and another hug.
She'd be okay, Danny decided as she began thanking him and, to his amusement, began stressing over which outfit she'd wear.
Taylor was strong, he knew; she had his stubbornness, Annette's fire, and her own hard-earned cleverness that'd seen her through the years, kept his spirits up after Annette died.
No matter what happened, Danny would support his daughter, no matter where her road brought her.
Still… he wasn't quite clear on just what the blazes a "Shoggoth" was, he mused while getting ready for bed that night, or why was Taylor so excited about giving one to the Dockworkers for Christmas.
He'd ask her in the morning.