"What would you like to know?" Tattletale asks coyly, a wide smile on her face. A smile that reminds me of Emma, both before and after.

I snap a rib. Focus. In. Out.

"The locations of as many ABB storehouses as possible. The addresses of ABB businesses. Any and all information you have on ABB members. Names, homes, everything," I state, staring at the man in leathers.

"That's a lot," he says slowly, like each word costs him something. I shrug.

"If you can't supply it, then we have no business here. If so, good day and goodbye. I'll let you leave," I finish. It sucks that my first lead is a dead end but there's always the back up plan of violence towards random Asians in red and green until something slips out.

"Woah woah woah," the blonde says, stepping in between Grue and I. "Just because we don't know anything now doesn't mean we won't later," she says, still smiling, "It'll cost you though."

I sigh and wave my hand at her. "How much do you want?" I ask. I don't have a ton of money right now but probably enough for the location of a few warehouses. If I loot them, I can probably chain the takes together until-

"We don't want cash," she says, interrupting my chain of thought. "We want you on the team."

I laugh. At first it's surprised laughter as the sheer audacity of the statement stops me from thinking too much about it. Then it turns into angry laughter.

"I believe in my message I explicitly stated that I was not planning on working with you. I also believe there was a request for you to desist with your own requests," I say quietly. The blonde's smile shakes a little. "Try a different price," I offer.

"The problem is that we don't want money," Grue states, putting a hand on Tattletale's shoulder and pulling her back. "If what we wanted was money, we'd hit the places ourselves and make off with the cash," he says. "What we need is more heavy hitting capes on our roster." The silence as he stares at me from behind the wisps of smoke informs me that I fit the bill.

"You are criminals," I state plainly. Tattletale shifts awkwardly and I detect a note of tension in Grue. "You rob, you steal, and you likely maim." No one denies me. I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. "Why would I want to do that?"

"If you have no choice," Grue says. The reverberation hides any tone in his voice.

"I have a choice," I state.

We stare for a bit, sizing up one another. I realize that I'd be shorter than him, even fully suited up. That, and he must have a hell of a build. I try to imagine what he might look like behind the mask.

I wonder what he sees when he looks at me. What he thinks is behind the bone.

"So, did I get suited up for nothing?" a lazy voice drawls. My eyes snap to the source. Regent.

"Shut up Regent," Grue says, barely shifting his gaze. "And maybe."

"Just so we haven't completely wasted your time, here," Tattletale says, tossing a phone at me. I catch it with one hand. "It's got my number in it if-" I crush it, collapsing bone around the fragile plastic, grinding down the larger pieces, and slowly opening my hand to let the debris fall out, savoring her slightly shocked expression. After a moment she recovers.

"Or you can destroy it. That's also good," she says, ignoring the laughter from her white-clothed comrade and turning to Grue. "Can we go now?"

Grue nods, and as they mount up I consider trying to take them in. I can feel the bone on Bitch's dogs singing to me, ready to warp. A twist here and there and they're stumbling. One or two steps and a few pikes of bone later and I could kill them. Then I just need to fight Grue and the other two. Tattletale seemed pretty freaked out, and if Regent was a major player I probably would've heard of him.

I could bring in four capes right now. Four villainous capes.

I think back to Grue's answer. About choices.

The dogs gallop off through the archway, into the woods and out of my sight. I stand, pull my throne back into my armor, and head towards a hidden path through the trees.

All in all, an unproductive night.


I knew it was going to be exhausting trying to be a cape as well as a vigilante. I just didn't appreciate how tiring it really is until I pulled myself out of bed to go for my run and ended up wheezing barely halfway through it. I'll have to rethink my sleep schedule if I want to actually get anything done. That, and find some ABB hangout spots. At any rate, I'll be busy these next few weekends.

When I get back, Dad's eating cold cereal at the table while reading the paper, milk and cereal box still out in front of him. When I step into to the kitchen he folds up the news and looks at me.

"Taylor," he says, "Can we talk?" It's a tone I haven't heard from him in a while. Determination. The question isn't a question. His expression is different too. Harder, but not like he's angry. More like he's doing a hard job, one that he likes but has been at for far too long.

"Yeah," I answer, grabbing an apple, a bowl, and a spoon. "We can talk." I sit down on his right and pour myself some cereal. Focus on the task. Cornflakes, milk. Insert spoon, lift, bite. Repeat until full.

"You went out late last night," he says, and my heart stops. Fortunately, some part of me is basically functional and keeps with the task. Insert. Lift. Bite. His expression hasn't changed.

I don't answer the unspoken question. The noise of crunching cereal fills the room.

Dad sighs. "Could you tell me where you were?" This is a question. I can tell because the expression on his face has softened a fraction. Enough that it breaks my heart.

He really won't press me on this.

I shake my head slowly. "It's... not the right time." I don't know what to say. I fill my mouth with more cereal. How do I explain to him that I have powers? That I've been skipping school so I can meet people and find better ways to use my powers? That I nearly died twice?

I can't. It's that simple. It'd break us both.

Dad nods. "I'll take that for now. You promised me you'd be safe." His face goes back to hard. "I'm holding you to that."

I look back at him. I flex every rib I have to make it happen. Can't risk a break here, it'd be too loud. "I will do my best," I answer. It's honest. Oni Lee is my only real hard-counter in the city right now besides Purity, and I'm not going to be directly engaging him. Just some guerrilla warfare, bleeding the ABB out one building at a time until Bakuda can't afford to make bombs. Then I'll attack them.

Safe as I can get while still trying to deal with the fallout of killing Lung.

He nods and I feel my heart rate go back to something stable. Not a relaxed pace, though. The expression is still on. "School," he says simply.

This time I don't freak out. "It's going fine," I answer, the old standby. We've danced to this tune a lot, and it's almost reflexive at this point.

"You're not," he says, and his expression becomes hurt as well as hard. "You haven't gone to school for a week. You haven't enjoyed it for years." The two statements are like hammer blows to my lungs. I can't breath. "Taylor," he says, green eyes locking with mine, "I love you. Please. Tell me what's going on."

Powers. School. One has to give. One has to go. I can't think.

So I don't.

"Emma," I whisper. "Emma went mad."

"Oh Taylor," he says and we're hugging and I don't know how to feel and we're both crying and I don't know how long we stay like that but he's going to be late for work and I'm definitely missing my shift at the hospital and other people could end up hurt for longer because I'm gone and he's missing work and the cereal is going to be soggy and fuck the cereal!

I eventually compose myself, and after we both take a moment to blow our noses on cheap paper napkins we move to the couch.

"The school," Dad says. "They should've put a stop to this."

"They didn't," I say. "Emma's dad wouldn't let them hurt his little girl, Sophia's a track star, and Madison is too connected to the two of them to punish. That and they have the numbers advantage. Anything I say will be denied a dozen times over, with alibis provided." I feel light, telling Dad all this. Odd and light. "They can't and won't do anything."

"The media," he tries.

"Tell them what?" I whisper. "I'm not important enough to cover."

He leans over to hug me. He doesn't deny it.

"What do you want?" he asks. I don't think.

"To leave," I say, and I feel as surprised as he looks. It slipped out, a dream released into daylight.

He nods. "We can do that," he says.

"Mom," I say. She'd be having kittens about twelve minutes ago, but she was a college professor. Me dropping out would-

"She'd want you happy," Dad says, and it makes sense. Mom was Mom before she was a professor. I search for another flaw.

"They'll win," I try and partially get some fire back. Some rebellion. But it's not enough, and I still feel cold and empty, exhausted from finally confessing.

"They win if you suffer," he says.

"Legality," I add.

"Homeschool," he responds.

"You're not qualified," I reply. He shrugs.

"Online courses."

"The school won't like it."

"They won't like the media shit storm of keeping a student who doesn't want to be there more," he responds.

I'm out of excuses. Dad hugs me again. "We'll figure out the details later." Just like that, I'm not going to school.

It's not the end. I'll have to fill out paperwork, talk to different people and wait. Half a dozen new and painful headaches to look forward to.

But it's a start. And I've been getting used to new and painful.

We throw out the cereal and get new bowls. There's no more chatter. Just eating. Dad's out the door as soon as he's done, leaving the dishes for me. I put them in the sink, strip, armor up, and go out the back as fast as I can.

Running feels different this time. Like I'm running to somewhere rather than away from something. I decide to add the third dimension, leaping over alleyways and intersections, testing to see how much elastic force I can pack into my bones. The uneven rooftops are never more than a well-placed pole apart. I think people are recording my run.

I don't care. I can't stop smiling.

Isidis tells me that the remains of my dome should give her enough biomass for at least a few weeks, and the few broken bones waiting for me are fixed in less than half an hour. I make some flowers for the patients in the ICU and end up idling around the reception area for a while before one of the nurses politely informs me that they're not paying me for off-peak hours. I get the message and head out, walking aimlessly along the street

What to do?

I could get started on the work to get out of school. I dismiss the thought. Too soon to ruin a holiday like this. I could go somewhere to eat. I check the time. Too early for lunch, too late for breakfast. That and I don't know any good restaurants that aren't craters.

My mood takes a dip. I wonder if Luciano's can afford to fix the damage? Insurance rates are always insane in cities with a high cape population and I know that there are shops that just don't pay them.

At any rate, food isn't something to do for an entire afternoon. I need an activity.

I wonder how the residents feel about my additions to Longshire Park?

Settled, I get to moving. Again, it feels better than it did before, like every step is twice as long, every jump at risk of sending me flying.

I wonder...

Before I know it I'm at the park. Well, on a rooftop on a street next to the park. The park itself is packed with people marveling at the bone trees. Several are missing (likely the work of an entrepreneur catering to cape geeks) but the rest have lines of yellow tape surrounding them, with PRT agents watching closely.

I try to mentally calculate the number of people there are in the streets. I eventually give up. North of several hundred. I wonder if I can host events where people get to watch me create stuff? I know there are sites online for gambling on Parahuman fights, but what about something less violent? Tinker or Mover races, Blaster firework displays, a Shaker visual art piece, something.

While I'm ruminating, a few people point towards me. Then a few more. Then half the crowd is looking in my direction. Their attention is a physical presence, pressing against me, heavy and intense.

I force myself to keep calm. I snap my bones, take my breaths, and look back impassively at the crowd below. The mass, large and not hostile. I keep reminding myself of the last part. These people are curious, awed, and maybe a bit starstruck, just like the college students at the University.

The crowd of undergrads was a lot smaller though.

What do I do?