morP 3.1

Authors Note: Much like the ancient Rankin/Bass animation of Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit, I overcome my own shortcomings as a writer in this arc by rotoscoping over someone else with real talent! All hail Wildbow, and please forgive the hack job I have performed to mutate his prose to my needs. All rights to Worm are his, all wrongs in this chapter are mine.

Now, Let's get this chapter started: Once upon a fanfic...

Principal Blackwell arrived at Winslow High as the pre-dawn light filtered through the clouds. As usual she was the first one into the building. She entered the security code in the office and reset the system to ignore the administrative areas so she could get some work done before the other staff arrived.

Taylor was in agony just getting out of bed after an uncomfortable few hours of attempted sleep, jolted awake by every move of the bruised side of her torso.

She couldn't even blame it on a fictional afterschool assault by Sophia since Shadow Stalker undoubtedly noticed her injuries as Butterfly last night. Taking an absence might also lead Sophia to start connecting her cape identity with her student life, and Taylor in no way wanted to risk that. So a taking more pain relievers to help her tough it out during the school day would have to suffice. Besides, she had that Art Project due today.

She applied new bandages as best she could as she looked in her bedroom vanity mirror. Too bad she couldn't risk using the larger bathroom mirror, but she needed to hide her injuries from her father or he'd go ballistic over Winslow High's failure to halt the bullying against her. A long sleeved brown turtleneck should manage to disguise any spots which bled through, especially under the extra layer of her baggy hooded sweatshirt.

By what she had learned about the Spoils system from Dauntless last night she would lose over half her remaining cash if she filled out all the paperwork and went through the PRT. Or she could keep it and be linked to the Merchants, even if as a Mercenary. Taylor decided to register after she got the payment she had already earned from Squealer.

At least she had found some ticks to tag Sophia again. However, that was a a crutch she didn't need to rely upon. It had come back to bite her in the ass, so she needed to practice identifying people without the shorthand of a specific bug per individual. She would give it a try today and see how it went.

With a sigh as she hobbled downstairs to breakfast she thought, "At least it's Friday."

"Best day of the week."

"Yeah, right…."

Sophia entered in-school detention, her last day in this boring as shit hell hole was finally here. No more long boring hours with the rejects of Winslow's lackluster schooling.

She dropped her phone at the teacher's desk and noticed something at her usual seat.

A small, round glass bottle of apple juice.

"Thought I'd forgotten about you, Sophia?"

She wheeled to face the source of the mocking voice, one fist cocked back ready to punch when Jesse stepped aside and said, "Good Morning, Mr. Nelson. How's Sophia been doing? Will we get our star athlete back on Monday?"

The harried teacher answered, 'Yes, um… Jesse, isn't it? Yes, yes, she'll be back to regular classes on Monday."

"Great," the senior glared at Sophia out of the teacher's view, "The entire track team can't wait for her to return to practice soon enough."

Sophia tightened her fist in frustration until her knuckles popped.

Class ended in five minutes and all she could think was, "My pain medication had definitely worn off."

Mr. Gladly's World Issues class had finally got to the unit about capes. Now that she was one, it should have been more interesting. But Taylor just couldn't follow along as pain infiltrated her senses and sabotaged her awareness. Twenty minutes to twelve; five minutes left before class ended.

Taylor glanced over her shoulder. Madison sat two rows to my left and two seats back. She was chatting with Julia, as usual. It was difficult as she tried to ignore the aches and pains, but could still feel sweat breaking out on her forehead. A glance up at the clock showed Eleven-forty-three.

"Let me wrap up here," Mr. Gladly said, "Sorry, guys, but there is homework for the weekend…" He continued to lay out the assignment, but the dull aches from her injuries due to her run-in with the Undersiders last night incessantly grew over the course of the class period to require her full attention to keep any further frailties crack her façade.

No way would she even consider taking any pain pills here and reveal a potential weakness under Madison's watchful glare. She needed to go somewhere private and check if any of the bandages had bled through.

The bell rang with a lilting ding-dong, and Taylor was the last one out the door. She couldn't run, but headed up the stairwell as best she could to the third floor to the girl's washroom, the haven she had been sure she'd outgrown the need for.

There were a few girls leaving, which meant there was no wait for a stall to open up. A peek below the partitions showed that there was nobody else in the other stalls. Taylor sat on the lid of the toilet and examined her injured flank as best as she could with a tiny round make-up mirror. A minor miracle, there was no bleeding and no excuse not to dig down for the pills in the bottom of the backpack.

The door of the bathroom banged open and Taylor didn't even have a chance to do more than dry swallow the pills. She realized in her haste to care for her injuries she'd neglected to track anyone with bugs for over an hour. With a feeling of sinking dread she knew that carelessness was about to come back to bite her in the ass.

The noise of the conversation outside her stall was obscured by giggling and the sound of water from the sinks. There was a startling thump on the door, and Taylor not-so-silently hissed at the pain as she involuntary flinched.

"I told you I saw her come in here to hide" one of the girls on the outside, probably Madison, exclaimed with glee, then in response another girl added, "Yeah, do it!"

Taylor abruptly stood up, the shirt fell to cover the bandaged injuries. Rushing for the door, even unlocked it door didn't budge when she pushed.

There were noises from the stalls on either side, then a sound from above. Taylor looked up to see what it was, only to get splashed in the face. Her eyes burned, as she was momentarily blinded by the stinging fluid in her eyes and blurred across her glasses. The familiar taste it as it ran down her nose and mouth.

Apple juice.

Then, a painful impact sent her reeling as a glass bottle shattered where it was hurled against her head.

Diluted blood streamed in rivulets down her face.

"Fuck this shit," Taylor angrily thought.

Skittering swarms of insects climbed up inside the walls from the crawlspace beneath Winslow in answer to Taylors' summons.

Principal Blackwell hung the phone back on the receiver. Now that the threatened Barnes lawsuit was put to bed, she could use the budget scraped up to better use. Perhaps towards something which would benefit the entire school. She began to ponder what to do with this unexpected surplus when her concentration was broken by the slightly muffled sound of something moving up inside the wall of her office.

Eeeeyew.

Her decision made, she opened a drawer from her desk to peruse the school district list of preferred subcontractors.