Butchered Tech
By: Bubbajack
Co-authors/Editors: IcySnowSage, First Hassan
Special Consultant: Heliosion
Note: Special Thanks go out to my Super Donors: Apostle_of_Darkness, Ben wanless, CrazymanDK, Jac, Jareth Norris, Kenni Nielson, Meraj Alimi, Scott Marchant, and Selmephren.
Ch.1.3: Being
Emily Piggot had called a meeting of the Protectorate ENE, and she made compliance mandatory to make sure Armsmaster would show up in person and not via video call from the bowels of his lab in the Rig. All hell had broken loose downtown last night and the Empire was in an uproar because of it. Once all of her little toy soldiers had gathered in her office, Emily began, "What do we know if anything? And God help you if you say nothing because that's not gonna cut it."
"Not nothing but not much more than that either ma'am," Miss Militia spoke up. "From what we can tell, starting at about 8:15PM last evening one of the Empire's dog fighting rings was hit. The only reason we could tell was trace amounts of blood splatter on the outer wall of the building, when the police went in to investigate they found no corpses but a message written on the wall in what was unmistakably human blood."
"Well, what did it say?" Emily asked. "Don't keep us in suspense, Miss Militia."
"Were you sent or did you come on your own?" She said passing a manilla folder to her boss who emotionlessly looked through the crime scene photos, including a picture of the phrase.
Upon hearing that, Assault took in a sharp breath causing the Director to give him a look. "Assault you look like you've seen a ghost, have something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?"
"That phrase… that phrase is the calling card of a… retired assassin ma'am. One I'd only heard stories about before I joined the Protectorate. A person they call Baba Yaga. They haven't been active for over five years now, something the Empire did recently must've set them off," What little of Assault's face that could be seen under his mask was chalky white, showing just how perturbed he was.
"A retired hitman here in Brockton?" Emily asked, "How do you know he's a hitman and not a serial killer with an MO like that?"
"Ma'am did all the Empire goons die from either stab wounds or shots to the head?" Assault asked.
"Yes," She affirmed., " Well the ones we could find anyways."
"Then it was a pro, not some random gang hit. And anyone else in Brockton would know better than to use that phrase. It belongs to one person, and one person only," Assault said with absolute surety in his tone.
Placing a hand on her husband's shoulder in a show of support, Battery asked, "Was he really that bad?"
"I once ended up at the scene of one of his messes. I was just going to my usual dive bar for a drink only to find it covered in police tape. The cops told me he killed three guys at the bar using a pencil! A fucking pencil used for filling out keno cards!" He told the room at large, "One guy got it through the eye, another through the ear, and the last through the back of his neck. Now if a guy can do that with a pencil, I don't wanna know what he can do with actual weapons."
"Is he a Cape?" Armsmaster asked.
Assault shook his head, "I have no idea, never actually met him in person, but I wouldn't discount it in this town. But from what I've heard back in the old days he was never one for hiding bodies. Leaving a trail of carnage in his wake was part of his calling card and the message."
"But at least four blood splatters were found with no bodies, so either his MO has changed, possibly his age catching up to him or…" Piggot trailed off, only for Armsmaster to pick up where she did.
"Or something caused him to recently Trigger," The Tinker finished for her.
"Fuck!" Emily swore. "So we have a potential master assassin running around causing chaos with parahuman powers and starting shit with the Empire because they somehow pissed him off?"
"Yes?" Assault said. "Supposedly. What is the Empire's response to this?"
"According to reports, the Empire's capes have split into two groups. Group A led by Kaiser consists of Alabaster, Kreig, Fenga and Menja, have been attacking ABB territory seemingly gunning for Oni Lee. While Group B consisting of Hookwolf, Cricket, Stormtiger, and Purity have been attacking Merchant territory since early this morning and have been using SWAT-like bomb disposal tactics to get rid of their drug contraband. Othala, Rune, and Victor haven't been seen in either group," Emily deadpanned straight-faced.
The room was silent for a moment before Battery chuckled and said, "You're kidding right?"
"Oh yeah, you know me Battery, next to Clockblocker, I just love a good joke," Piggot replied as she stared him down.
"Right, sorry Director Piggot."
"Director Piggot, your orders ma'am?" Miss Militia asked.
"The Wards are to remain on standby for now. They do not have the experience to deal with a gang war, and we can't afford to carry them in the field. We'll bring them back onto active duty as a last resort. Send a message to New Wave and let them know of the situation. As for all of you, get out there and arrest who you can after these idiots tire themselves out trying to kill each other."
"Don't distract your enemies when they are making a mistake," Armsmaster muttered to himself as he left the meeting. Usually he hated these things as they detracted from the time he could spend on more important things like his projects. But for once, he was glad he attended. With some fine tuning and the right timing, he could haul in several villains and maybe get some recognition around here. So thinking he went to his workshop he had a quick missive to send off to the Wards before he altered his halberds for capturing Merchants and certain Empire Capes.
(...)
Greg went over his checklist as he ate breakfast which 'The Crew' as he called the group in his head, insisted on being eggs, sausage, and toast instead of his usual bowl of Legend O's. He refused to replace his beloved black coffee for tea. 'Fixed mom's necklace. Check. Walked and fed Daisy?' He looked down to see the beagle munching away at some cold cuts, 'Check. Made armor for a costume? Check. Took a shower? Check. Had breakfast? Check. Retrieve Taylor's gift before school… in progress,' He decided. "Hey dad?" He called.
"Yeah son, what's up?"
"Can you drive me downtown before school?" Greg asked.
His father blinked owlishly dark circles under his eyes from staying up late, "Where do you need to go downtown before 9am? Also, are you sure you even want to go back to school so soon?"
Greg called back, "I'm good to go dad, trust me!"
Coming into the kitchen, Jack replied, "You never did tell me where you wanted to go so early in the morning son."
"Same place I was going when I got shot, my part-time job."
"You have a part-time job?" His father said surprised.
"Yeah, at Fitzy's Music and More," Greg replied. "It's a music store that sells vinyl, CDs, Cassettes, and musical instruments."
His father blinked. "How long have you been working there?"
"Since like… January of last year, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday," Greg told his dad with a shrug, "I get paid bi-weekly, why?"
"Greg, we give you a weekly allowance… your mother and I, we've been tricked, hoodwinked, and quite possibly bamboozled!" Jack protested.
Greg shook his head, "Not you haven't, I didn't even get a check the first month, and that's why I need to go back there, to pick up something I paid for. Now, will you take me there or not?"
Seeing his boy being unusually serious, Jack nodded, "Yeah sure Greg, I'll take you just let me get changed real quick and grab my jacket."
"Thanks dad I appreciate it,"
'He's changed since triggering,' Jack noted before shaking his head as he threw a proper shirt on, 'No it was before that, I just didn't notice. Now it's just more pronounced, evident,' Jack realized. 'He's been holding down a job, likely getting paid under the table for over a year, the question is why?' Jack Veder was eager to find out. Coming back into the kitchen and finding his son ready to go, along with the dog, Jack smiled, "Well, let's get going,"
(...)
Fitzy's Music and More was a semi-popular musical store as the owner Fitzgerald "Fitzy" Newman was smart enough to stock music he personally disagreed with and wise enough to know when to keep his mouth shut and head down. That's how he'd lasted this long despite being Jewish and living in a Neo-Nazi part of town. Don't hold your money too dear, along with not being afraid to use it to grease the right palms when people came to collect 'protection money' every month and they just so happened to forget to mention to the higher ups that they had a jew running shop right under their noses.
His family had lived and worked in Brockton since the early 1900's. His father's father started out working on the Ferry back when it actually worked and the shipping industry was still a thing, before the Endbringers, before Leviathan made everything go tits up. Then his father opened this store in the 1940's a good forty years before Allfather and his ilk started making waves and everything started going to pot. Fitzy had inherited this store from his father having worked there since he was about twelve or thirteen. He was in his upper sixties now and much like his father before him the damp air in Brockton was making his joints ache. Unlike his father, he didn't have a son to help him pick up the slack. So a year ago, when a kid came in with a busted up flute asking if he could work here in return for him fixing it or getting a replacement. Well, he couldn't say no. And now as he gazed out the gold lettered wide window of his storefront he saw that very boy get out of a rust patinated truck with a bear of a man that could only be his father.
Ignoring the pain going through his knees, Fitzy made it to the door before his employee and pulled it open greeting him with a loud, "Boychick! I expected you a few days ago, how've you been? You had me worried eh? This is your father, I take it?" He said, offering the man a hand to shake.
"Jack Veder, nice to meet you sir," Jack said, noting the man's strong grip despite his age.
"Call me Fitzy, please," The older of the two men requested.
"Hey Fitzy I… I've had a wild couple of days," Greg told his boss as he looked him over.
He was an older man with salt and pepper hair, his face lined with age. Keen gray eyes peered down at him over a pair of pince-nez glasses and Fitzy always wore a festive vest of some kind over a white shirt. Today it was blue, along with charcoal gray dress pants and brown shoes.
"I'm sure, I'm sure, come in, come in and tell me all about it, I'll put the kettles on." He said ushering them inside. Noting the beagle he was holding he asked, "Did you get a hintele recently boychick?"
"No Daisy belongs to a neighbor. I'm looking after her," Greg replied.
"Got some leftover turkey for the kinder I think," The older man said as he moved to a door behind the counter and motioned for them to follow.
Unlike most people Fitzy both worked and lived in his store. It also doubled as his home. Beyond the door behind the counter was a small single floor apartment. With old out of date wallpaper on the walls, comfortable chairs sat unused around a currently unlit fireplace and a small wooden table that had half a dozen chairs around it along with a kitchenette, and bathroom and bedroom just down the hall, his single floor apartment wasn't much, but it was enough for him.
"Sit, sit, I'll make tea for myself and coffee for you Veder clan men," He said playing host. First going to his fridge and filling a small glass bowl with slices of cold turkey which he set on the floor for the dog.
As the beverages seeped, he turned and asked, "So, what's gone on recently Greggory? You were supposed to come by the other day to pick up your order but you never arrived."
Greg grimaced and nodded. "Yeah about that Fitzy…" Greg pulled his fringe forward, revealing his scarred temple. "I kinda got shot,"
"Mashugana!" he swore in Yiddish. "No wonder you were laid up. Should you even be walking around so soon after being shot twice in your melon kid?"
"I'm fine Fitzy, I was on my way to the shop the other day to pick up my order, when a shootout happened between the Empire and the Merchants. A woman and her baby were about to get shot and I just moved."
"But you got shot instead," The older man finished, as the kettles whistled, prompting him to pour two cups of coffee and one of tea. "Cream, milk, or sugar?" He asked Jack.
"Yes please to both cream and sugar," Jack replied, surprised when the man pulled out a carton of half-and-half. "Better for you and actual cream, trust me,"
"I'll take your word for it," Jack said as he added the half and half to his coffee till it turned his preferred color and added two scoops of sugar. "Tastes the same."
"Indeed, so Greggory, I know why you're here. Here to get your package, yes?" Fitzy asked as he sipped at his green tea.
"Yes sir," Greg confirmed. "Is it under the counter or?"
"Bah, under the counter? Do you think I'd leave something that precious in a place where some hoodlum could break in and take it?" Fitzy shook his head, "No, that one I kept safe in my room, wait right here, and I'll go get it for you," He said, placing his mug of tea on the counter before he went to his room.
"What package do you two keep referring to son?"
"It's a present for Taylor Dad. A flute to be precise."
Jack furrowed his brow, "Didn't Danny's wife Annette play the flute?"
Greg grimaced, "Yeah she did and it was a nice one too, a Gemeinhardt 33SB C1 concert flute. It costs four thousand-twenty bucks at the current market value."
"How do you know that?" Jack asked, "Do I even want to know how you know that?" Jack asked with a sigh.
"I saw Taylors regular trio of tormentors breaking into her locker and stealing the flute. They wrecked it, stomping it into a useless hunk of metal, and then put it back in her locker, leaving the door unlocked. After she saw it and broke into tears, she threw it away. I salvaged it and cut class the rest of the day. Took the bus downtown and asked Fitzy if he could fix it, asked him how long I'd have to work for him to pay it off,"
Jack sighed, "Don't let your mother find out you've been cutting class,"
"The line between bravery and stupidity may be thin, but I haven't crossed the line yet," Greg replied.
Fitzy returned just then with a two foot long rosewood box. He handed it to him, along with a wad of cash. "You lucked out boychick, when I placed the order they were having a sale, and instead of the usual four grand, it cost twenty-six hundred. So you've got about fourteen hundred bucks there,"
"Oh sweet!" Greg went for the money only for his father to pick it up and pocket it. "I'll hold onto this until you get home tonight where you'll be having a long talk with your mother and I, and you'll be opening up a bank account… where have you been keeping all the money you've made till now anyway?"
"In a box under my bed like a normal bank fearing person, duh?" Greg replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world while Fitzy nodded alongside him.
"Fitzy I'm sorry to ask this but how much has my son made working for you for the past sixteen months?"
"Twelve-thousand-two hundred-eighty-eight bucks," The man replied off the top of his head. Seeing the surprised looks of the two he shrugged, "What, I need to know this for tax reasons, Villains I can handle even capes but the I.R.S. forget about it!"
"So you have nine-thousand six-hundred-sixty-six bucks just sitting at home?" Jack asked his son.
"Yeah that sounds about right," Greg replied doing the math in his own head, "It's all in like, half a dozen or so coffee cans under my bed."
"Why don't you trust the bank's son?" Jack asked, sighing.
"If our nation's seventh President Andrew Jackson's last words and the engravement on his headstone was "I killed the Bank", then somethings up," Greg replied flatly.
"We'll talk about it when you get home tonight," Jack said again. "Nice meeting you Fitzy but we should be going,"
"Of course, please come by anytime," He said as he bent down and scratched Daisy behind the ears.
As they got in his dads truck which Greg affectionately referred to as Mater, Greg said, "Can we stop one more place before school?"
"Where and will it be fast? You're going to be late at this rate,"
Greg pointed at his head, saying in all seriousness, "This bowlcut has got to go dad."
"Hahah! Okay okay, I get it," He looked his son over as he drove, he usually wore bagger clothing but now he was wearing a dark purple t-shirt and charcoal washed jeans with black sneakers. His workouts with Mr. Wick had done him good it seemed. His demeanor had also changed. He was still quiet, but now he exuded confidence instead of nervousness. Instead of being so easily excited he seemed to be calmly taking everything in around him. "Decided to reinvent yourself?"
Greg shook his head saying ominously, "This is just the first step. More, so much more is to come,"
"Sure if you say so son, just don't try to change all at once and grow up too fast," His father advised as he pulled into a barber shop.
"Yeah you're probably right dad, thanks. I'll be right back," Greg replied as he shut the door, leaving him with Daisy.
"I dunno about you girl, but I'm starting to worry about that boy," Jack said as he walked into the barber shop.
The beagle whined in response.
(...)
Greg walked through the halls of Winslow feeling comfortable in his own skin for the first time since hitting puberty. Ignoring all the wanna-be gangers looking for a reason to start beef, the graffiti, and usual crap, he made a b-line for a certain girls locker, he was hoping to give his present to her before class. Then he paused, 'Wait, what if Hess, Barnes, or whatsername catch wind that Talyor got a new flute during school hours? They'd probably just break it again. Not gonna happen,' So thinking he placed the box at the bottom of his locker and as he walked past Taylor who was carrying a bookbag that looked absurdly heavy and large. He accidentally bumped into her, not paying attention to where he was walking.
"Woah I'm sorry I tripped over my own two feet," Greg apologized having knocked both of them to the floor.
"It's fine," she said.
"Don't worry about it," Taylor said, sounding both irritated yet resigned as she fixed her askew box frame glasses.
Reaching down Greg picked up her backpack, easily hefting it on the opposing shoulder his own was on before helping Taylor to her feet. "C'mon we need to get to homeroom before the tardy bell."
"You don't need to carry that, I can handle it," She said motioning to her backpack.
"I don't mind, it's not that heavy, besides we sit right next to each other so it's no big deal if I carry it for you right?" He offered with a smile.
Taylor narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously as if wondering if this was some kind of trick. 'He's never tried to do anything to me before, but he's never helped either,' She thought to herself. Giving him a once over, 'He changed his look… no not just his look, he's been working out, and got a haircut?' His usual bowl cut had been replaced with a slicked back look except for three strands that refused to cooperate. He looked good, she admitted to herself. She didn't know what, if anything, this had to do with him suddenly offering to help her so she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Thank you Greg."
"No problem Taylor, happy to help," He said as he proceeded to plod along beside her.
'Like you did all those times the Trio were destroying my homework or tormented me, or the time they threw me in the Locker?' She thought only to push such negative thoughts away. A hero wouldn't hold a grudge. She sighed 'Just let it go Taylor, just let it go,' She told herself.
Hearing her sigh he asked, "Wednesdays am I right? Not as bad as Mondays but we still have two whole days of publicly funded state mandated jail time to go until the weekend. But chin up Taylor! The end is in sight! It's a camel's favorite day of the week!"
"A camel?" She asked, glancing at him.
"Hump day," He said, giving her a shy smile.
That joke was so bad she couldn't help but laugh, just a little. "Yeah okay Greg."
They were just outside the homeroom and Taylor expected him to give her her bag back but instead he walked right into the room, to his seat before plopping her bag down on her desk for her but not before running a hand over it, as if he was checking it for traps.
"Mr. Veder you've missed school for the past couple of days," noted, "I hope you have a good reason for that,"
"Umm yes sir. I was shot twice and then dumped into the Bay… though not on the same day. Does that count as a significant reason for a two day absence?" Greg said, turning around and addressing his teacher.
The room was silent and everyone was staring at Greg bug-eyed. After a moment the whispering started and broke it by saying, "Did you say you were shot, Mr. Veder?"
"Twice, in the head, yeah," He said tapping his temple and motioning to the infinity symbol looking scar he now sported.
"Did… you go to the hospital or was Panacea on scene at the time?" Mr. Gladly asked.
"Neither sir, I good samaritan helped me out. Panacea wouldn't have left the scar."
Mr. Gladly nodded, "Right… So how did you get shot?"
"Yo!" One of the known affiliates of the Empire piped up Erik Kincaid, who also happened to be the Winslow Wasps star quarterback. "Veder you were the guy who got pumped full of lead saving that woman and her baby from some Merchant shits the other day?"
"Uh… Yeah? Why?" He asked.
"So you were also the guy who got jumped by Oni Lee and thrown into the Bay last night wearing cement shoes, right?"
"Yep, sure it was. He didn't bother to let the cement set and decided to go overboard and threw a grenade in the bay after me to make sure he killed me. It had the opposite effect and let me get out of the cement and swim to safety instead," Greg was lying of course, blatantly so, but of course, they just ate it up.
"DUDE! That's like… Mission Impossible type shit!" Marcus said high-fiving one of his fellow teammates.
"Yeah, just call me Tom Cruise, please send all charitable donations to the Church of Ron L. Hubbard," Greg's tone couldn't get much drier, not that anyone was paying any attention.
"Veder! Veder! Veder!" The jocks were chanting.
'Fucking kill me,' The boy they were chanting about thought as he sat down at his desk.
Taylor sat down robotically next to him and occasionally glanced at him throughout homeroom. When the bell rang for first period, he automatically picked up both their bags.
"You don't need to-" Taylor began to protest.
"We share all of our classes Taylor, it's fine," He told her as he walked beside her to their next class.
They walked in silence for a moment before she asked. "Were you really shot in the head twice?"
"The scar on my head isn't proof enough for you?" He asked.
"I'm not saying you're lying…" Taylor backpedaled, "It's just… how did you not get some kind of brain damage from that?"
"Luck of the Irish," Greg replied.
To which the bespectacled girl pointed out, "Isn't your last name of Germanic origin?"
"I must've eaten my spinach that morning," He then amended, "Or if you prefer, sauerkraut."
Taylor shook her head, trying not to laugh. "Are you a member of the Empire Greg?"
To which Greg shook his head and replied, "No I'm not, though they seemed more than happy to grab me off the street and drag me, soaking wet and fresh out of the Bay, to one of their meetings… Think it's the hair?"
Sophia Hess who was about to shove both of the prey who were grouping together today tripped and fell over when she heard that. 'What the fuck did I just hear?'
"Have a nice trip Hess?" a small blonde girl asked as she watched Greg and Taylor walk away.
Sophia spat back, "Fuck you Herren. Maybe in a couple of years your nickname won't be Tiny Tits Tammi."
Tammi nodded, "Yeah and maybe in a few years you won't be trailer trash whose mother isn't an uncaring crackwhore who has an abusive pimp for a boyfriend, and whose brother works for the Merchants, but that's a lot less likely than me being a late bloomer," She sniped back as she walked over her to her next class.
Sophia saw red. She tried to scramble to her feet and enter a sprint, but she wasn't in a good position for it, not like on the track field. Tammi was already out of sight by the time she got up. "This isn't over bitch!" Sophia growled under her breath. "Not with you, and not with Hebert either," she vowed.
(...)
Taylor didn't know what was going on with Greg today, but he seemed to be intentionally foiling the Trio's efforts to get at her. Emma tried to destroy her social studies homework by pouring orange juice on it, he accidentally tripped her, causing her to fall and stain her outfit with the vibrant substance. She had to excuse herself to call home for a clean pair of clothes and for once, she had homework to turn in. And as if picking up on this other members of the Empire started foiling the Trio or just annoying them in general. Erik Kincaid seemed to delight in constantly shooting spitballs at the back of Sophia's head for example. At one point, she got so annoyed she turned around and said, loudly, "Do it again bitch! Do it one more time! I dare you!"
"Miss Hess, is there a problem?" the teacher asked.
"No, cause I just handled it," She replied glaring daggers at Erik. Only to launch herself at him in a blind rage when she turned around moments later and a spitball hit her in the neck. There was a big problem though. Sophia, despite being physically fit for a woman, might as well be a wet noodle for a bulked up star quarterback who spent the majority of his summer running drills in football padding.
So he easily picked her up using her own momentum and slammed her into the brick wall just behind his desk. "Hess, for a while now I've had enough of your bullshit. I should've had words with you like this when you put Hebert in the locker after Christmas Break but… Well, I suck ass at math and wouldn'cha know it, we had a math test coming up the very week we came back. Review or some shit. But now? I've had it. Now, I'd appreciate it very much if you, Barnes, and Clements would knock it off," When she tried to struggle in his grip he shook her like a dog with a bone. "Would you kindly stop?" He spoke again, a south Texan Drawl coming out with his increased agitation.
" , let Miss Hess go… She needs to walk right down to Principal Blackwells office and explain why she just tried to assault you,"
"My fellow countryman!" Engineer piped up. "A whyte supremist? I smell sumthin' fishy and it ain't the clams you fished for last night Greg! Look in'ta this fer me will ya?" The Engineer requested.
'Sure but not right now,' Greg replied.
"Take yer time partner, much obliged," Engineer replied as Greg watched Sophia limp out of the room, hate burning in her eyes.
Greg decided to take this chance to just ask Taylor since he couldn't find a good time to slip a note into her bag, "Hey Taylor, would you give me a few minutes of your time after school today? There's something I wanna talk to you about,"
She stared at him for a moment as if gauging his words before she nodded, "Okay Greg,"
'Yes! Okay now I just need a way to get a couple of minutes uninterrupted with her,' Greg glanced back at Erik. 'Maybe he can help with that?' He decided to see about asking him for a solid at lunch. 'Speaking of,' He thought, "Wanna sit with me at lunch?" He asked.
Taylor was at a loss. She had taken to hiding in the second floor girls bathroom for lunch. It was her final refuge from the Trio… and yet… 'It would be rude to turn him down after he's been carrying my bag for me all day, wouldn't it? And it's just one time. What could it hurt?' She decided. "Sure Greg,"
'Yes! Okay, now I just gotta hope Sparky doesn't screw this up for me… damnit I'm fucked.' Greg thought to himself.
Sparky was a weird little dude. Possibly on the spectrum to some degree. They were both outcasts and really had no one but each other at Winslow though. Sparky… he looked like he'd stuck his finger in a light socket, his hair was always sticking straight up, hence his name. He didn't speak much, but he watched, observed, and would randomly point out the oddest and profound things. Things like "Ants can carry fifty times their own body weight. We are much larger than ants, yet we struggle to lift even twice our own weight, why?"
'Oh yeah, this is gonna be fun,' Greg thought. 'I hope Taylor likes random yet thought provoking questions that may or may not be analogous to insects,' Greg thought to himself as the bell rang for the lunch period.
(...)
'Okay Taylor,' She said to herself, 'You can do this, your just having lunch with Greg… surrounded by other people… who could jump and humiliate you at any given time,' Her anxiety attacked her even as she tried to hype herself up as she held a brown paper bag that held her lunch close as she entered the cafeteria. It was a wild menagerie of people chatting, bodies huddled close under the thrum of fluorescent lights. Some of which flickered on their last legs showing they likely needed to be replaced soon. Whether or not that would happen considering this was Winslow, well that was another question altogether. Taylor's head was on a swivel as she looked around for Greg. She found him waving at her at a table in the far left corner of the room. Seeing that she sighed in relief. 'At least I can keep my back to the wall,' She thought.
She kept her eyes on the table and ignored the piercing glares coming from the tables sequestered by the ABB, Merchants, and Empire recruits. Taylor nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt someone fall into step beside her. She looked up to see Erik Kincaid walking calmly beside her. "Don't pay them no mind, Hebert. Like an old toothless hound dog, they're all bark and no bite."
"Right," Taylor paused for a moment before she asked, "Why're you helping me now Erik when you never bothered before?" She couldn't help but ask but it'd been on her mind since his actions in class earlier.
"Well, 'cause you never asked for help before Hebert. No offense, but you kinda always came off as this unapproachable loner. You never spoke to no one, never tried to make friends with anyone since Barnes turned on you like a rabid mutt. Like, you preferred to be left to your own devices. So that's what we all did. It wasn't until Greg stood up that we all realized no, you weren't just ignoring Hess' petty bullshit. You were puttin' up with it 'cause you actually thought no one actually gave a damn."
'Do I really come off as the type of person who doesn't want friends? Of course I want friends… but the last time I trusted someone with my secrets she…' Her gaze briefly flicked over to Emma who was up on the dias, a raised area where the popular kids including Erik usually sat and held court.
"Hey Veder, you needed me for something, man?" Erik greeted waving his hand as they approached the table.
"Yeah, I need a solid towards the end of school today, can you spare a few minutes or do you carpool with someone man?" Greg asked.
Erik laughed, "Heh, I'm the one everyone on the team is getting rides from dude, the oldest guy on the team by a couple months and earliest one to get his driving permit. So yeah, I reckon they can wait a few minutes. That all you needed?" The gentle giant asked.
"I do have one more question… Why are you a part of the E88 man? You're from Texas and you don't seem the part."
Erik shook his head, "I'm not racist if that's what your askin'. Nah I joined up so they'd leave me alone to study. I need to get good grades so I can get a scholarship to a decent college. Can't do that with all these idjits breathing down my neck about joinin' some group or another. Plus I got an internship at Medhall startin in a few weeks for additional college credit. So I only joined so they'd leave me be. I speak Spanish, you know? Its kinda a necessary second language in Texas."
"Cool, I just thought I'd ask, no offense meant," Greg said, holding out a hand.
"None taken, Veder," He said, gripping his hand. "Whose, yer friend?"
He was referring to the boy sitting next to him staring at something in his lap. He was dressed messily, his button up was messily buttoned missing every other button, his hair was sticking straight up, and his eyes, though fixed on the box, seemed to flit around every couple of seconds.
"This is Sparky. Sparky, say hi to Taylor and Erik,"
In response he put a large plastic box on the table. It had two large rhinoceros beetles in it that kept trying to topple each other with their horns. "Rhinoceros beetles used to be used in Japan for gambling. Some species of butterfly protect themselves by using their wings camouflage to look like the eyes of dangerous predators… Stick Bugs are the commandos of the insect world, some species can make themselves look like scorpions as a defensive mechanism, while most camouflage themself as common foliage or twigs," He said by way of greeting.
Taylor, who was used to Sparky's odd behavior; having worked with him on group projects before, just gave a quiet, "That's very informative Sparky, thank you," Before sitting down with her back to the wall. In truth, since she got her powers some of Sparky's random mutterings on insectology had come in handy. Like learning the first bulletproof vests were made from spider gave her the idea to make her Hero costume out of lines of overlapping spider silk.
"Hey there little guy, you like insects huh?" Erik peered at the rhinoceros beetles in their plastic enclosure. "These are some bigguns ain't they?"
"Rhinoceros beetles are some of the largest beetles in the world reaching up to fifteen centimeters or six inches."
Erik whistled, "Wow, well don't let them ABB guys know you got these lil buddy, or they'll take 'em and use 'em to gamble with."
"It has been suggested that beetle larvae have twice as much protein as chicken at forty percent, and could be used as a meat substitute for a large human population," He replied.
"No Sparky, you are not going to eat the beetles if someone tries to take them from you," Greg reprimanded him.
"Death before dishonor," He said in his monotonous fashion.
"Sparky, no eating the insects," Greg said again, seriously this time.
His green eyes flicked to Greg, who saw him giving him a serious look, "Okay…"
"Now why did you have to go and ruin the lads' fun boyo? I for one have eaten much worse when I went to Pandora to attend both my brothers' funerals. Never liked skag meat," spoke Zane Flynt in Greg's head.
'We don't live in a post-apocalyptic world… well it's a shithole but it's not Pandora bad yet,' Greg thought back. Knowing how much Zane hated his brothers. Still a nice touch he attended their funeral though.
"Your friend seems to be a Vat grown Biologis," Cawl noted. "Most curious indeed,"
'Sparky is hyper focused and hyper specialized,' Greg thought back, 'If its insect related he probably knows about it… and his Tyranid warband is no joke,' Greg commented. Sparky liked his Tyranids… and the Zerg from Starcraft.
"I know a mechanicus priest that sends us data about those specific Xenos. He never revealed his location but he has survived centuries longer than a tech priest should be alive. Perhaps the realms of the warp have produced an analogue in this young Sparky? Most curious."
Seeing Taylor sitting there quietly eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich Greg pulled out a ham and swiss and a bag that had three of the brownies he baked the other day. "Trade you a brownie for some chips?" he offered.
"Deal," Taylor said, giving him a handful of potato chips before she nibbled on a brownie like a timid mouse afraid someone might suddenly steal her piece of cheese. After a moment she asked, "Did your mom make this, it's really good."
"No, I made them myself a few days ago before I got a lead injection," Greg said, tapping his scarred temple.
Taylor blinked, took another bite tasting the chunks of fudge and walnuts in the sweet she was eating. "Do you like to bake Greg?"
"Bake, cook, I kinda do it all. I had to learn at a young age because my parents work late hours and as much as I love takeout, chinese food, pizza, and cereal got old real quick. So around eleven or so I started learning how to cook, with my Uncle's supervision. I got good enough that he didn't need to watch me anymore, which was good, because he passed away a couple of years later when some merchants spiked everyone's drinks with some bad drugs at the club he was at one night."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Taylor apologized. "I lost my mom about three years ago now… car accident."
Greg nodded solemnly, "Yeah I know, you probably didn't notice at the time, but I attended her funeral with my dad and mom," He told her.
That threw her for a loop. "You did? I don't remember that at all," She truly didn't, but she was so grief-stricken that day it was just a blur of sadness and pain. She wracked her brain trying to remember Greg, but nothing came to mind.
"Yeah I even gave you something that day. A small charm bracelet? It was engraved with the phrase, "Revelations 21:4?"
'I know what he's talking about!' Taylor's breath hitched as she realized. 'I thought Emma gave me that!' Swallowing a mouthful of brownie, she asked. "Small silver bracelet? Couple charms on it being a flute and a heart?"
"Yep! That's the one!" Greg confirmed. "Glad you kept it this whole time,"
"Of course I did… that was… very sweet of you Greg, thank you," Taylor paused before admitting, "I'm going to be honest though, I don't remember much about the day of the funeral. Just that I was a crying mess. A few days after that, I found the bracelet and just kinda assumed Emma got it for me. Sorry."
He waved her off, "It's no big deal, I just hope it brought you some comfort like I intended."
"You have no idea," Taylor replied. Her free hand dipped into her pants pocket where the very bracelet they were discussing lay. It had become something of a worry stone for her to rub over in recent years, when the treatment by the Trio had begun along with Emma's betrayal. To remind her that Emma used to be a good person before something changed or broke in her when she was away at summer camp one year. But now she'd learned the charm bracelet was gifted by another. It was a blow but one that made her think, 'Were Emma and I ever truly friends? Was Greg being a weirdo stalker or was he just trying to look out for me in his own way by following me around all the time? But then, if he was trying to look out for me, why didn't he help me when the Locker Incident happened?' She recalled what Erik said, how she acted like a loner who wanted to be left alone but she begged to be let out of the locker and everyone ignored her! Everyone! Even Greg.
She felt anger flow through her veins like poison, and in response she felt her power press on her wanting to be used. She pushed it back. The last thing she needed to do was out herself as a parahuman during lunch at Winslow. So she took a breath in through her mouth and let it out through her nose.
"Hold your breath," Greg said after a moment.
"What?" Taylor asked.
In response Greg demonstrated holding his breath for a moment before letting it go, "Just trust me," He said, "Take a breath, hold it, count to four. Let it out, count to four."
Taylor did as he said, and she found herself calming down much to her surprise.
"Better?" He asked.
"Better, thanks," Taylor replied, "Where'd you learn to do that?"
Greg pointed at Sparky saying, "It was something his folks told me to tell Sparky to do if he ever got too wound up. I adopted it myself for certain stressful situations,"
"Stress has been known to hamper and outright kill certain insects. They experience it differently from us but the signs are still the same. Aphids change how they reproduce, ants become more territorial, bees go on a warpath… so many responses in insects," rambled Sparky as he ate into his tuna fish sandwich.
"Yes indeed Sparkster," Greg agreed. "Now finish your sandwich, we've only got another five minutes," Greg calmly instructed him.
"A single Termite can eat one fifth of an ounce of wood a day," Sparky replied as he picked up the sandwich.
"Do not," Greg began too late, "Cram it all into your mouth," He finished flatly as Sparky did just that, consuming half a tunafish sandwich in one massive bite.
"Careful Sparky or you'll choke," Taylor advised, gently patting him on the back.
"A dung beetle can roll a ball up to ten times their weight," He replied before he left the table.
Greg called after him, "Wash your hands afterward and be back in time for the next class,"
Taylor asked, "Was that Sparkinese for bathroom break?"
"Yes," Greg nodded, "He's a good guy, it just takes some getting to know him to figure out what he's saying,"
Taylor nodded in agreement, "Yeah he means well, you it just takes a minute to figure out what he's saying. Have you been friends with him long?"
"Since like, middle school," Greg confirmed. "I kinda just looked after him when no one else would, and we've been friends ever since."
"You're… a good person Greg. It leaves me wondering…" Taylor began despite herself.
"About?"
"Why you didn't help me when I got shoved in my Locker?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself and Taylor covered her mouth as soon as they were out. "I'm sorry, forget I even said that I… I should go!"
As she made to move, Greg held up a hand, "No you have every right to be angry with me," He told her stunning her and gluing her to her seat. "I didn't help you when I should've, I admit that, and I'm so, so sorry. If it helps, I've been kicking myself for not doing anything since that day. But that's not what you asked, you asked why I, why nobody did anything, right?"
"Yeah…"
"The most logical answer I can give you would be Bystander Syndrome, where everyone stands by waiting for someone to react," Greg shook his head, "But that's not what you wanna here," Greg sighed, folding his hands behind his head and looking up at the ceiling tiles as he replied, "Truth be told, I was weak, scared, and afraid. I was too weak to do the right thing, too scared to stand up to the Trio, and afraid, in that moment if I did, I'd be thrown into that locker with you…" He suddenly leaned forwards as he looked her in the eye and said, "A courageous person only dies once, but a coward dies a thousand times. I never truly understood the meaning of that phrase until that day. I hated myself for what I let them get away with and it killed me that I let it happen. So I decided I wasn't going to let it happen anymore. It took awhile Taylor but, if you let me, I'll have your back from now on. And this time, I mean it,"
Taylor looked into his eyes as he spoke and she could tell he was being serious. She blinked, behind her glasses, unsure how to take this sudden proclamation of… of what? Protection? Friendship? Guardianship? More than friendship? She shook her head on that last one, 'Get it together Taylor your lanky and gaudy with a flat chest and no ass. No way any guy would be interested in you,' despite her internal self-depreciation she found herself sniffling a bit, her eyes getting damp with tears, "Thank you Greg I… that… that means a lot."
"Hey don't… um don't cry? Yeah don't do that. Don't you know a woman's tears are like diamonds or something like that? C'mon now," He handed her an unused napkin to dab her eyes with, which she gratefully accepted wiping away the tears and tuning her trumpet before she said, "Thanks,"
"No problem… So… if you want, we can make this whole you, me, and Sparky lunch thing a regular thing?" He offered tentatively hopeful she'd say yes.
Just then the bell chimed, and everyone started rushing for the doors. Over the hustle and bustle he heard Taylor tell him, "I'll think about it!"
That was good enough for him. He just couldn't wait till the end of the day. That's when the waterworks would probably really go off… 'I should probably grab more napkins,' He thought ruefully to himself.
(...)
It was the end of the day, and Greg nervously collected his present for Taylor from his locker. 'I hope she likes it,' He thought as he checked his jeans' back pocket, ensuring he had some kleenex which, he'd snagged from the nurses office, just in case as he made his way to the back lot behind the school. Sophia he noted had left in the middle of the school day for some unknown reason. He wasn't complaining. One less potential obstacle to deal with as far as he was concerned.
Making his way around the building he found the entrance to the lot being guarded by no less than half the football team, with Erik at their head along with Sparky of all people holding his box of Rhinoceros Beetles. When he saw Greg he waved. "Hey Veder, just to make sure that's you and not some Cape, what's the password we set up earlier?"
"Password? We never set up a password Erik," Greg replied. "Also what's Sparky doing here? Everything okay buddy?" Greg asked concerned.
"Yep, it's you alright," Erik said. Motioning for the beefy gorillas that made up the Winslow Wasp football team to move aside most of them were E88 affiliated but some had no gang markings. "And don't worry about Sparky he and I are going into business together,"
"Business? Sparky?"
"Beetle wrestling," Sparky said by way of explanation.
Looking to Erik Greg said warningly, "If he gets hurt, so will you,"
Holding up his hands in surrender, Erik replied, "Relax Veder, nothing should happen for at least a week, I reckon. The rest of the guys gotta get their bugs," He said motioning to the other members of the football team.
"Fine then, but Erik… make sure the Empire gets their cut. These types don't take too kindly to being left out of any kind of action. So if you don't want them making a mess of all your bones including Sparky's which would result in me breaking whatever their bonebreakers didn't break of yours, I'd make sure Kreigson here, shows up at some point with at least fifty percent profits as tribute,"
Kreigson the linebacker who had a swastika on his letterman jacket snorted, "And how do you know I can make sure they get the money Veder?"
To which Greg replied calmly, "Well someone has to be reporting to the upper management from here about what goes down. That person has to have some form of transportation. It stands to reason it's one of you guys on the football team and you're using Erik as your wheelman. Since you're wearing your allegiance to the Empire so openly. I can assume you're their little messenger boy. So be a good little courier and make sure they get their due ok?"
Samuel Kreigson stared at Greg silently for a moment, then he smirked. "You're not half as dumb as you look, Veder. I'll have to let the bosses know we got a smart new blood who's worthy of advancement at this shithole."
'How many times do I have to tell these people that I'm not affiliated with them?' Greg wondered to himself as he said, "You do that, but first can you make sure neither Emma Barnes nor whatsername show up and ruin this for me?"
"You mean Madison Clements?" One of the other footballers asked.
"Yeah her, whatsername," Greg nodded.
"Are you not remembering her name on purpose or?"
"Maybe, now if you'll excuse me boys, I gotta do a thing," Greg said walking past them.
"Good luck Veder, I'll be rooting for you," Erik said, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked past.
"Thanks, I'm gonna need it," Greg replied as he steeled himself.
As he passed them one of the other members on the team asked. "So what's all this about anyway?" He grunted when he got smacked upside the head.
"Ain't it obvious Teddy, you numbskull?" Kreigson replied dryly with an eyeroll keeping his voice low so the girl didn't overhear prematurely, "Veder is about to confess to Hebert. Now I dunno what he sees in her myself, maybe he likes the demure type, but the heart wants what the heart wants I guess."
"Did I hear you right, is Veder about to confess to Taylor?" Emma asked, coming around the corner grinning maliciously with Madison in tow.
Sparky calmly put his terrarium to the side out of the way, and then bellowed out as loud as he could, "ZERG RUSH!" as he charged the duo.
Erik took that as his cue to shout, "DOGPILE!" And the football team quickly followed suit burying the two bullies underneath a mass of human bodies with Sparky leading the charge. This is the scene Anne walked in on several minutes later when Emma wasn't there when she arrived to pick her up. Suffice it to say, she was very confused.
(...)
"Sorry I'm late," Greg apologized, as he found Taylor waiting in the walled-in back lot, wearing a light black jacket with the wind tussling her hair ebony locks making her look every bit the princess in his eyes. "I had to have a brief chat with Erik about something. I didn't keep you waiting long did I?"
"Just a couple minutes," Taylor said, speaking up over the wind, "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"
"Not so much talk, I just wanted to give you something, and I didn't want the Trio to destroy it if I gave it to you during school. So here you go Taylor," He said offering her the wooden case, "I hope you like it,"
Hesitantly, Taylor reached out and took the box. Undoing the brass clasps she flipped the lid and gasped. It was a flute, her mother's flute returned to its pristine former glory 'But how? It was broken beyond repair! There was no way Greg could've!' Taylor's vision clouded over with tears and her knees wobbled before they gave out underneath her and she cried tears speckling her glasses as she looked at the last remnant she had of her mother, returned to her.
"Is it no good?" Greg wondered aloud his tone worried, "Did I get the wrong one? Fitzy swore to me he got the right one but if it's not I can always return it," He began.
"NO! DON'T TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME AGAIN!" Taylor yelled at him, her green eyes in a borderline panicked frenzy filled with unshed tears as she held the box protectively close like a firstborn child.
"Relax Taylor, relax," He said kneeling down till he was at eye level with her, "No one's going to take her from you," Greg assured her," as he inched closer to her, "But you need to calm down before you have a panic attack. Take a breath and hold it count to four, remember?"
Taylor did as he said, and found herself calming down as she did the breathing exercise, and with calmness came clarity, and then embarrassment. 'I just made a total idiot of myself!' She thought, 'Greg probably thinks I'm some kind of overly emotional freak now after he went through, who knows how much trouble to get this for me?' She looked around for some kind of tag or bill of sale. She knew damn well her mother's flute wasn't cheap that's why she'd heartbrokenly thrown the flute away when she'd found the Trio had ruined it. She knew there was no way she could earn enough money to get it replaced or repaired and yet Greg had done so. Which made her wonder aloud. "How long?"
"You're feeling better I take it? And for how long, what?" Greg asked.
"How long have you been saving up to give me this?" Taylor asked motioning to the box in her arms with a nod of her head.
The blonde boy shook his head, "Don't worry about that, I just want you to have a piece of your mom back, and now you do. So mission accomplished," He said, getting to his feet.
"Greg," She said while mimicking his actions, "Why're you going so far for me? I don't understand,"
"Seriously?" He replied, chuckling a bit, "Man, and girls usually complain that us guys are the dense ones when it comes to this. Guess it really can go both ways," Seeing she was still oblivious Greg decided to help her out by spelling it out for her, "Taylor Hebert, I like you, a lot."
Like tumblers clicking in a lock, Taylor understood. 'He… Oh… OH… He… me? ME of all people? He could have anyone he wanted so why is he interested in me?' She wondered. She briefly considered if this was a part of another prank, only to dismiss it. No one would spend the amount of money this flute must've cost on some malicious prank. But Taylor didn't know how to respond! Till today she was just trying to survive school and now she'd gone from trying to survive to having a boy admit his feelings for her? It was all just too much! She found herself using the breathing exercise again, this time without being prompted. Looking Greg in the eye she told him, "I'm flattered Greg really but… I don't think I can give you a proper answer right now? This is just too much, too sudden, too… too soon. I'm sorry," Taylor wished she could give him a more concrete answer, but that's what she was feeling at the moment.
"That's fine," He replied, smiling understandably, "I just wanted you to know how I felt. So take your time and tell me when you're ready. There's no rush," He told her gently.
"Thank you," Taylor said earnestly. Her cheeks had turned rosy pink, and Taylor wasn't entirely sure if it was due to the cold of the afternoon or Greg being Greg. "For today, for the charm bracelet. For this…" She looked down at the flute lovingly, "For just making school seem bearable again," in an uncharacteristic display of gratitude, Taylor moved forward and gave Greg a brief hug with her unoccupied arm.
"Greg, there you are," A feminine voice called, causing the embrace to end prematurely and the two teens to separate and turn to stare at the speaker.
Kayden Russell stood there in a burgundy pantsuit, heels and white dress shirt. Her hair had its usual slight curl to it and stopped at her shoulders. She was wearing minimal makeup that enhanced the natural beauty that was already there. She smiled at Greg as she approached. Her smile widened a bit when her eyes landed on Taylor, "There you are, I thought you'd forgotten we were meeting up today."
"No Kayden, I just had to take care of something important first before I came to meet you. Sorry if it took a minute,"
Kayden shook her head, "No, no I understand. You must be Taylor Hebert correct?"
"Y-Yes ma'am. How do you know my name?" Taylor asked, wondering how this beautiful businesswoman knew her name.
"Greg speaks very highly of you, often," Kayden replied, offering her hand, "Kayden Russell, I'm Gregs new boss."
"New boss?" Taylor echoed, "Ah, nice to meet you," Taylor shook her head, she was still reeling from the confession and now she was meeting this woman and she found herself completely caught on the backfoot.
"Yes, he'll be working as my new assistant. I'm an interior designer, that reminds me," She reached into her suit's breast pocket and produced a card, "Here, if you're ever in need of a job call this number. Drop my name to Cheryl if she gives you a hard time and she'll brighten right up okay?"
"Y-Yes ma'am thank you!" Taylor said while her eyes flickered to Greg briefly wondering just what he'd said to her about her to make her basically just hand her a job.
"No problem Taylor. Greg tells me you're a hard worker, and I can't have enough of those in my line of work. It takes a team, not a single person, to do my job properly," Turning to Greg, she said, "We should be going," Switching back to Talyor she said, "It was nice meeting you Taylor, I hope to hear from you sometime soon," She turned and walked away looping her arm through Greg's and dragging him along with her.
"Bye Taylor, I'll see you tomorrow!" He called after her.
"Bye Greg and thanks!" Taylor called. 'I think I just got a job,' Taylor thought, looking down at the business card. She made her way out of the backlot to watch Greg leave, hoping to catch a glimpse of Miss Russell's car, only to see half the football team watching the duo walking away, and Emma of all people being held briskly by her older sister Anne.
"Anne?!" Taylor said surprised.
"Taylor, seems the blonde stud really gets around huh?" She commented watching Greg walk away with Kayden holding his arm.
"Blonde stud? Do you mean Greg? You've met him?"
Anne nodded, "Oh yeah the Denny's I work at part time got taken over by the E88 last night and handsome comes in wearing nothing but swim trunks soaking wet and looking so hot he should be steaming. He tried to give me a hundred bit tip seeing how close to freaking out I was. Cutie has my number. Wonder if he'll call?" Anne asked aloud. Before her grip tightened on Emma's shoulder and she asked, "So, when were you going to mention your and Emma's falling out?"
"I uhh… it's really no big," Taylor began, only for Anne to cut her off.
"If you say it's no big deal I'm going to pinch your cheeks," Anne threatened.
"I hope she means her face," One footballer mentioned.
"I hope she doesn't," another said, looking between the two with interest.
In response, Anne made a rude hand gesture, "Keep it in your pants boys,"
"So am I the only one who thinks they fuckin'?" One jock asked, nodding towards Greg and Kayden.
"Oh c'mon, he's just working for her," Anne replied, with Taylor nodding along rapidly, happy to have the heat off her.
Greg pulled his hand out of her grasp and placed it on her lower back.
"Oh they fuckin' alright," Another meathead exclaimed, "You go Veder." He said.
"Guys c'mon," Anne said, "Taylor just got confessed to by Stud. Why would he be sleeping with her and confessing to her? It doesn't make sense."
"You gave him your number. Eww by the way," Emma pointed out. Only for Anne to increase her grip on her sister's shoulder to a painful degree.
"Shut up you," Anne said in a too chipper voice. "I'm in college. It's normal to play the field there. I highly doubt an older woman like her has an interest in…" Anne stopped talking as she watched Kayden hand glide across his ass. It could've almost been accidental but considering what they were just talking about… "Oh wow, there fuckin'"
"They be fuckin'!" Almost all the footballers yelled.
'Are they seeing each other?' Taylor wondered. 'Then why'd she give me this?' She wondered, glancing down at the card, 'And what does Greg's confession mean?' Taylor was confused. She needed to think. She wished her mom was around so she could talk to her about all these confusing emotional things she was going through. But she wasn't yet she still felt the need for an older woman's advice. So she found herself saying, "Anne, do you mind if I come over to your place for a bit, I need an older woman's advice and you're the only person I can think to ask. Well besides your mom."
"Not a chance in hell He-Bah!" Emma's words died in her throat as her sister's grip became vice like.
Anne smiled warmly, "Of course Taylor! I think it's long past time that the air got cleared between us all anyway. We'll have you over for dinner, and then we'll send you home with leftovers for Uncle Dan alright?"
"Okay, if you're sure I won't be imposing?" Taylor asked nervously, refusing to look at Emma, knowing the poisonous look she'd receive from the girl if she did.
"Never," Anne said, shaking her head, "Your family Taylor, you're always welcome at our house regardless of what other people might think," Anne said while her fingers dug into her little sister's shoulder while she dug her cell phone with her other hand and proceeded to make a call. "Hey mom, it's me, you'll never guess who I talked into coming over for dinner! Do we have enough for one more? Who is it? Well it's your third unofficial daughter. Yes Taylor, who else unless there's another unofficial daughter I don't know about? What's for dinner anyway? Okay I'll ask her?" Covering the phone with her hand, Anne asked, "Taylor, do you still like my mom's Lasagna?"
"I-I love it!" She replied. It had been years and she thought she might never have it again but she still adored it.
"She still loves it mom, I think she's drooling just thinking about it," Anne laughed.
"I-I am not!" Taylor defended, holding her flute close.
"Why the sudden change of heart? I got a feeling there's a big story behind that, a long, long story. One that might require a glass of wine or two to get through. Taylor needs some girl talk anyway since… yeah. So we'll be right home, and if Emma complains about me abusing her she's lying before she starts."
"She's abusing me!" Emma cried, "She's got my shoulder in a deathgrip!"
"See? There she goes already thinking I'm some kind of Vulcan or something. She's gotten very petty since I went to college by the way she actually tried to ruin a boy's confession to Taylor earlier," Anne grimaced, "Mom is using your full name right now Emms,"
Everybody, even the football players winced. That was the universal mom code for 'Your fucked'.
"Oh don't worry mom she didn't get the chance, see the boy in question is friends with the football team… Why does that matter? Well when I found her, she was tackled by half the team. Yeah no lie, they were not going to let her ruin this moment."
"Seriously? Taylor asked, Erik. "You did that?"
"Don't tell nobody, but we're all romantics at heart," Erik stage whispered.
"Like seriously, don't tell nobody," Kreigson emphasized, by trying to take an intimidating step towards her only for Erik to hold an arm out stopping him in his tracks.
Taylor took a step back regardless. "I won't, I swear!"
"We'll be right over mom," Anne said, ending the call. Turning to her sister she said, "You're lucky. Mom thought being tackled by the football team was punishment enough, I don't know if she'll still think that after we clear the air tonight. Hope you like your room sis, cause from what these boys have told me, you're gonna be spending a lot of time in it," Anne said as she began frog marching her sister towards her car, "C'mon Tay, mom's super excited to see you! She's doing rolls, Caesar salad, the whole nine yards!"
"Coming," She said before she nodded to the football team, "Thank you. Erik, could you see Sparky home safely please? I'm sure Greg meant to ask you but he was…" Taylor trailed off.
"Preoccupied?" Erik added for her, "Yeah I noticed. And don't worry I'll handle it," He told her, "Now go set things right Herbert."
Thanks again! She said running off, for the first time in years she felt something rising in her she thought died with her mother or perhaps more accurately, with Emma's betrayal… Hope.
(...)
Greg marveled at the old brick building Kayden had finally pulled to a stop in front of. It was the length of two football fields put together, and one end stopped facing the Bay. It was covered in graffiti on the outside, and trash covered the street surrounding it, but the windows had bars on them and the doors were made of solid metal keeping the usual riffraff out. "This place is perfect, Kayden!" He said to her, "How'd you find it!?"
"Oh, it's been on sale forever, it's just no one wanted to buy it because it's in contested territory between the Merchants, Empire, and ABB. The only semi-interested party had been the Dock Workers Union but they can hardly get enough money to stay afloat, much less expand, so it was easy to afford," Kayden informed him, she glanced at him from the driver's seat, twiddling her fingers nervously she asked, "Did I do a good job?"
"You did amazingly, Kayden," He praised her.
"So… do you think maybe… I've earned a little reward?" She asked, her timid nature coming to the surface.
He turned to her smiling, "Sure, but what do you want?"
"Guess?" She said huskily, half-lidding her eyes as she looked at him hungrily.
Greg was a lot of things but clueless wasn't one of them, "I'm not against that but where would we even do it?"
Looking behind her, Kayden replied, "My minivan has a big back seat,"
Greg looked at the backseat behind him, 'Yeah it looks big enough but she puts her kids back there,' He thought, "Are you sure-" He didn't get to finish as Kayden captured him in a liplock. "Greg, too much thinking," she told him even as her hands hastily unbuttoned her suit jacket and blouse revealing the lacy black near transparent lingerie she was wearing underneath.
(Lemon Begins!)
"Someone came prepared for this," Greg noted, pulling away from the kiss as he reached out and fondled her breast with one hand, causing her to gasp.
"Greg, backseat!" She sighed as she shrugged out of her jacket and blouse, unzipping and shimmying out of her skirt leaving her in nothing but a matching g-string before she joined her secret paramore in the back seat.
"Right," He said, climbing over the seat pulling his shirt off as he did so.
Kayden all but flung herself on top of him and devoured his face. Her hands roughly made their way through his hair as his hands freely roamed her body. She pulled back giggling as his fingers glided over her ribs showing she was ticklish there. As she kissed him she ground against his crotch feeling a thrill run through her as she felt the bulge in his pants poking her back, 'I did that!' She thought satisfied in her sex appeal, that she could make man that young that hard, 'I made him that way,' Between kisses and gasps for air she told him, "Too much clothes… in the way,"
Greg shimmied out of his pants and Kayden hummed appreciatively when she got to see again, the third leg he was packing. Pulling him into a deep kiss she said, "Ready?"
In response, Greg undid her bra and pulled her panties to the side, "I'm just hoping I can remember it this time,"
"If you can't, well just have to keep trying till it… Sticks!" She said as she lowered herself down on his natural scepter.
They stayed still for a moment after she came to a stop, allowing her to adjust to his girth. "Ohh, so good," Kayden sighed out.
"You too," Greg said, squeezing her breasts as he laid kisses on her toned stomach. "Good God, are all women like this? Wet hot vises on the inside?"
Kayden leaned down and kissed his brow, "Thanks for that, most guys would… call me loose… after having… Aster."
Greg growled, "Not most men," he replied, leaning up and capturing her lips. "You're amazing as you are, as far as I'm concerned."
"Oh Greg," Kayden reciprocated the kiss before she started moving. Slowly at first, knowing this was Greg's first time and wanting him to enjoy it, then she began to speed up as she got into it. After a moment, Greg started thrusting up on her downward thrusts meeting her halfway.
"Someone's a… quick study!" Kayden said appreciatively as his hips bucked into her sending the jolts of a micro-orgasm running through her.
"I… I'm about to," He tried to tell her.
In response, Kayden slammed herself down hard on his pelvis and ground her crotch into his gyrating her hips on his. Greg didn't stand a chance of maintaining his composure after that, and shot his load giving her internal walls a fresh coat of white paint. Not to be outdone, Greg picked Kayden up and laid her vertically across the seat before pinning her arms above her head with one hand before he continued to thrust into her while kissing her neck.
"Greg, Greg. Oh Greg! God! We're both just… sensitive… Don't stop, you fucking sexy beast!" Kayden cried as she locked her legs around him. She felt him get even bigger than before inside of her, when she said that, "Oh you like that do you? Being called an animal? Fucking me like some kind of beast? Dominate me you sexy sexy man! Show me what I was missing all those years I was married to Kaiser! Show me what a real man is like and how one properly treats and keeps a woman!"
Kayden's words were all the encouragement Greg needed. With a primal groan he spilled his hot seed into her waiting willing depths before collapsing onto her chest, face first. He briefly motorboated her tits causing her to giggle and ask, "Having fun honey?"
"Sorry, I've always wanted to do that," He said, a little breathless.
"Don't be sorry, I'm glad you're so adventurous," Kayden said, "Kaiser was so… Vanilla in bed. Up for one more round? I know your new at this so I understand if you need to stop,"
"So Kaiser is Aster's father then?" Greg asked, just taking a moment to get his second wind.
'Oh shit, I never did tell him who Aster's father was,' Kayden realized, "Umm surprise?" she said with a worried lilt in her tone.
Giving her a kiss that made her toes curl Greg replied, "Don't worry, I don't care if you don't."
"Mmm, definitely not," She purred satisfactorily. "Round three?" she offered.
"The spirit is willing," He said, before noting his shrinking member, "But the flesh is flaccid,"
Kayden kissed him understandingly, "It's fine, let's get dressed and I can show you around the place properly, m'kay?"
"Sure," Greg agreed.
(Lemon End)
(...)
The interior of the building was no less impressive than the exterior. Boxes upon boxes lined the walls every thirty or so feet there was a skylight made of reinforced glass giving the place plenty of natural lighting along with lamps hanging from the ceiling. The floor was made of solid concrete and had a drainage pipe beneath every skylight. There were electrical outlets every dozen feet or so lining the walls and there were metal stairs leading to walkways up above as well leading to a second floor. "This place is amazing!" Greg said "What's with all the shipping crates though? They look fairly new," Greg noted.
"Anything and everything I could get my hands on, computer parts, electronics, steel, high grade magnets, superconductors, ceramics, fans, lamps, several suits of kevlar bodyarmor, and just about anything else I could think of," She replied, "And this is just what arrived today. More crates should be arriving throughout the week, from various places across the country."
Once again, Greg brought Kayden into a deep kiss, "What did I do to deserve you?"
"You saved my life, my daughter's life, and last but certainly not least, gave me the best lay I've had in years?" the former Empire cape replied easily.
Greg nodded rubbing the back of his head, "Well yeah but you make it sound like such a big deal. All I did was push you out of the way at the end of the day,"
Pulling him into a hug and gently running her hands through his hair, Purity said softly, "Sometimes Greg, it's the smallest actions that have the biggest impact. You choosing to act, even though you didn't have to, changed things. For all we know, those bullets could've missed, I might've used my powers to protect Aster, but we'll never know because you chose to act. And that meant everything to me. So don't wonder about why I'm doing what I'm doing okay? Just like how you chose to act then, I'm choosing to act now okay?"
"Okay, I just feel kinda bad, with you spending all this money on me," He said uncomfortably.
To which Kayden replied coyly batting her eyes, "But Greg, I'm your sugar momma remember? And I'm getting my sugar so I have no complaints."
"I'm not sure whether to call you a sexy minx or a sexy cougar," He joked.
"Since it's you, I'm fine with either," Kayden fired back. Seeing him eagerly looking around at the boxes, she said, "Crowbar is over there hon," Seeing him racing to the corner where the crowbar sat she watched him tear into the crates like a child on Christmas morning. She knew what that meant. His inner tinker had come out to play. "I'll be back around nine to take you home love," Kayden called, "I need to go home for a bit and check on Aster and Theo,"
Greg waved goodbye but said nothing else. Kayden didn't expect anything less, Tinkers were infamous for having one track minds once they set themselves on a project. She saw herself out. While Greg? Greg was let loose like a kid given the keys to a candy store. Finally, he was free to create! And create he most certainly did.
'Okay guys we've got parts now… let's get to work,' he thought as he dove into the mountain of boxes like a dragon would his treasure horde. His mind raced with ideas, robots, armor, and weapons, but he decided the first thing he needed to fortify this place's defenses. No point in having all this if some Merchant mook could just walk right in and steal it all, and sell it for scrap just for a quick high. So thinking, he began to tinker.
(...)
Word count: 13,200 Number of pages: 28(Single-spaced) Date Completed: 4/8/2023
(...)
AN: Hello party people! And welcome back to chapter 3 of Butchered Tech! I wrote this and chapter two in the span of a week. So yeah, the muse is burnin' hot for this story! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I do writing it. Next time we'll have dates, death, and explosions?! Dun dun dun! Now here's your Daily dose of Snowy and First Hassan.
Snowy: I apologize for the lateness of the ch. I was on vacation last weekend and needed a break. I also am proud to say we are brewing a new story thanks to many helping hands. We at Inkblot Bros are working hard for you the audience. Now then on to the story. Greg is getting steamy and gears be a turning. The only question is how will this Escalate! XD Now be prepared Gregory Veder is on a tech path and he will make plenty of things.
First Hassan: ITS ALIVE! HAHAHAHAHA! ITS ALIVE! The moment all of you have been waiting for! A beloved chapter from the Mad Lad Bubbajack himself! Sorry guys for th elate chapter man, all of us has some little RL we wanted to deal, in which cases Bubba's, Snowy and our schedule. We make mistakes sometimes but thats what we do. Anyway Greg has given something very precious to his beloved and lovable Bug Girl. She need s a hug, does anyone want to hug her? Emma, Emma has finally gotten her due after causing so much damage to Taylor, its only a matter of time until Karma stricks back at her, take that you a**hole! Like what my co author/editor said Greg has started tinkering around, stay in tuned what he's gonna make in the near future. Thank you guys for reading our story, if you want more or want to be a chapter ahead, head to Bubba' account where it hasn't been edited by yours truly. I'll see you guys later! (Turning around while blue flames surrounds Hassan before disappearing)