Chapter 6: That will Shine
"Well, that's everything." Danny said as his eyes scanned the room, his hand running through his hair, looking for any reason to stay. Taylor wanted to be annoyed, but honestly found the action reassuring.
After the morning, when her Keyblade (she had tried thinking of any other name but the current one just resonated with her) appeared, Taylor had revisited the memory of the realm of darkness and plane glass. The feeling of loss resurfaced as she remembered the mere idea that she would never see her father again.
So when Taylor needed water, she let him reach for it, if she needed her food cut up, Danny did it and Taylor had even let him help her to the bathroom door and back. Each time Danny helped in some small way, his face gained a little life back. It made Taylor feel better herself.
So when he held up his hands in defeat and smiled at her, she smiled back.
"I know, I know. I'm going to go downstairs and practise not hovering over you. Shout if you need me, for anything." He added said, looking her straight in the eyes. As he turned to leave, Taylor took three quick steps and hugged him. Danny's body froze but quickly returned the hug with greater force.
"It's going to be okay, I'm going... to be okay." Taylor said into his shirt, her words almost muffled. With a one last hug, Danny released her.
"I'll be downstairs." Danny said in with a tight voice. As his back vanished down the stairs, Taylor softly closed the door for what felt like the first time in years. Sitting on her bed, Taylor thought about herself and her father.
It was a mess. Taylor and her father had drifted badly in the last few months. When her Mom had died, an awkwardness formed between them, Taylor had expected her Dad would need some time but the total shut down of Danny Hebert had cause Taylor to, deep down, blame him for leaving her alone to deal with the house, the sad sympathy calls, Mom's stuff...
Taylor had closed herself off, blaming her father for the distance that spanned them, not thinking about how much she had helped cause the rift to widen.
When her Dad finally started to shake himself back into sense, Taylor had already thought that the damage was done, between Sophia, Emma, the flute, Mom's death and the lack of anyone giving a damn, Taylor was more than ready to stop talking altogether.
Taylor loved her father, however it wasn't something so obvious until she had nearly lost him. Her event of gaining the Keyblade had caused Taylor to think why she was put through such an ordeal. Why were such things as her father and herself focused on so much, why was her superpowers gained via a spiritual journey.
One thing was clearer, Taylor didn't want to lose her Dad. Not any more. Shaking herself back to the present, she thought.
It wasn't clear even after the respite in the hospital, But Taylor had been given powers.
Taylor Hebert was a cape!
With a giant garden key.
Taylor sighed as she finally booted up her computer. The old thing coughed and wheezed as life return to it.
Taylor hadn't been idle in the hospital. Besides vanishing to the toilet so often to call the Keyblade that the doctors had tried to ask if she had stomach problems, Taylor had also been diving deep into the online presence of capes and their watchers. One half of her curious to see if she could find anything about odd capes hanging about Brockton and to learn about, what she had soon come to learn was called, triggers.
The first task was simple in its reason. Taylor had no idea how she escaped the locker. In her mind the Keyblade was suspect number one, but it was not alone as the police had asked her about any memory of someone helping her. Taylor had pressed them in return and with some hesitation they revealed that there was a hole in her locker.
Someone or something had cut clean through the cheap metal.
Now Taylor was hardly going to start dissing her own powers, shiny and new as they were, but the beautiful curved rose petals didn't seem to have a real edge to them.
With a quick look to make sure the door was shut, Taylor held out her hand and needed.
The light that always accompanied its summon flashed and then in her hand was the Keyblade. It never felt out-of-place, like Taylor could feel it appearing and she had to grab it. Even when her hand was clasped tight, the Keyblade seemed to fit perfectly in her grip.
Running one hand over the rose head she carefully stroked her thumb across the petals but her digit met no danger. As far she could feel, there was no hidden edge to the thing that would cut through metal as it was hot butter.
Now as she gently placed it to lean against her desk, she couldn't help but grin. Taylor hadn't yet learned how to unneed yet. Taylor never wanted the weapon to go. It was a physical symbol of her rank, a superhero. The problem was that she had to wait until it just vanished on its own.
This usually meant she had stashed it in the cleaning closet inside the bathroom when she was playing around in the hospital. The one time a cleaner had went in there had caused Taylor's heart to race but when they're was no puzzled expression on the man's face, Taylor relaxed. The cool down between it appearing and it vanishing was never clear.
Now in the comfort of her own bedroom she felt a bit more brave about summoning it, more sure of herself as she didn't immediately hide it.
The second reason, the triggers, was to purely satisfy Taylor's curiosity of her own experience. However, when she had started to dig she had quickly become aware of several key behaviors online.
One in particular was that no one who knew any capes in real life, bragged about out it online. No one speculated who was the person behind the mask. Not seriously anyway.
The people who did were quickly found and discouraged heartily with a heavy dosage of bans, or worse if some of the 'last active' time stamps were to believed.
As her browser loaded and the site came up, Taylor began her search once more.
The PHO was the site to use. The number one reason, in Taylor's opinion, was that they had real capes (marked with a verified from the sites runner, Tin-Mother) with accounts on the site. Only heroes and independents were among the numbers, Taylor had noticed at the back of her mind.
Taylor had to imagine that logging in, casually after a long day of villainy, for some good old forum debate was no doubt relaxing, if not stupid.
You would have to be crazy, stupid and/or mad to do attempt it, most likely all three.
Hovering her mouse over the profiles of some of the Brockton Bay Wards had shown the PM section was grayed out. This was interesting, not that Taylor had any guts or intentions to contact anyone one about her experience.
A giant key makes not a brave warrior, it would seem.
A quick bit of scrolling later had found the general behavior guide lines.
"24: Attempting to contact a verified Cape (VC) will not be possible in private messenger or link function. Unfortunately, it's all to too easy for some die-hard fan to log in and harass hard-working people or worse a villain planting false information to lure them. For the safety of all users, the only way to talk to a cape outside a thread is if they contact you first, this is not negotiable."
So there was a quick and easy/cowardly way of asking, out the window. Taylor frowned as she came across a rather infamous thread that had been locked, but kept as a reminder why respect for capes civilian life was a good thing.
The thread had been mostly cropped down to three pages. A cape from Seattle got into an explosive argument with a random user.
Boiler, an independent cape that had a generic hydrokinetic power with the exception not only could he generate water from his hands, any water he moved he could also change the temperature of the liquid from a freezing blast to an almost steam cloud vapor, had been needled by a user to the point of caps lock styled replies started flying.
The user had been annoying Boiler for a quick way to becoming a cape. Boiler had flat out said the price was not worth the gain. The user disagreed and said Boiler was just being a bitch and didn't want to share his success secret.
This had gone down badly, would be putting it mildly.
Boiler, who later regretted his action but not the consequences, had said in the bluntest way that he had to watch his home burn around him, the exact reason for the fire, Boiler declined to share. This had made Taylor feel sympathy for the guy, then Boiler had went on to say how he went looking for his wife who in another part of the house and when Boiler had found her...
Taylor swallowed back a rise of bile as she forced herself to read. Boiler's wife had been trapped and was already dead. Not caring Boiler had walked into the flames in raging grief and triggered, the entire house was engulfed a misty steam a few seconds later.
With that, the information about Boiler's cape record spoke for itself.
A month later Boiler had appeared on the cape scene, harshly dealing with the local crime. The Seattle capes, some heroes, some independents had tried to coach him to go softer and work with the law, which the man had started to listen to before he had caught two teens setting urban development houses on fire for shits and giggles.
One them was now wheelchair bound for life. The water pressure had reached that dense before Boiler finally relented his rage at the casual arson starting to slow.
No Hero team would touch him after that.
Boiler had said that was his trigger and it was most likely true for all capes. Triggers are the worst thing that could happen for a person. They were broken people who were quickly put back together with super power glue.
Taylor turned her computer off after reading this. Taylor would never dare compare her experience to Boiler's, they were so far from each other that it wasn't even funny. However, it did mean that for different people, the level for triggering was very different.
People all worked a little differently so it was no surprise. Checking the time had revealed that Taylor had been reading for almost an hour. Taylor thought about what to do next.
Taylor had no problem staying up all night with a hot drink, researching others like her, even summon her Keyblade for practise (for what, she had no idea now) . As she stared at her bedroom door, that idea lost just a little attraction.
Taylor was already slipping into old ways.
Grasping her bedroom doors handle she stopped and stared back her desk.
The Melody of the Lost was gone. With a nod of approval Taylor went downstairs to see if she could get her Dad to help her cook.
Taylor was thinking... pasta.
"...Right, and you can't reach either Harry or Rick?" Danny said into the phone, with a pinched expression spreading across his face. The other person said something and Dad sighed.
"I won't be long." He said softly and hung the phone. A soapy, wet dish was held in his other hand. Taylor had jokingly suggested family dish washing, instead of the turns they usually did. Her father had laughed and agreed.
Taylor had not appreciated him flicking bubbles at her, but with a quick scoop of her hand Taylor had managed to smear a white stripe on his face with a triumphant grin. Then the phone had went off.
"Work?" Taylor has asked casually, carefully managing her facial expression. Work had always been a big part of her Dad's life. As the Dockworkers Association as head of hiring and a spokesperson, Danny had been put into a place that depended on the state of the docks.
Which was in its current state, abysmal. Danny had to take the blame for poor job income and recruit numbers from higher-ups, but from what Taylor saw, most of the grunt level workers respected her Dad.
Work had also pulled Dad away from her more than once in the last year, Taylor didn't resent him for having the job, she resented what the job did to Danny. He always came back... sad.
"Yeah, mix up with the late shifts and no cover. I won't be too late but..." He said, trailing off as he knew he was beginning to reach parent mode, his stress over the last few days had been building, as he was due to return to work any day now. Taylor knew that he would worry about her regardless of what she would say.
Untill the first few nights went smoothly, her father just wouldn't relax.
Taylor smiled and hugged him.
"Lock the doors at ten and no boys." Taylor said seriously. Danny wiped at the soap on his face.
"Well that last one wasn't what I said but I'm glad you picked up on it anyway." Danny kissed her head and left with his coat in his arms. A few seconds later his car came to life and left.
Taylor slowly finished the dishes as she thought.
All alone with no adults around.
Taylor smiled as the last dish was set in the drying rack.
Taylor studied the Keyblade from across the room. Ideally she would say that she was discovering the secrets behind her power, but honestly Taylor was just too busy trying to classify herself using the widely accepted ratings of Blaster, Breaker, Brute, Changer, Master, Mover, Shaker, Stranger, Striker, Thinker, Tinker and Trump.
Taylor repeated the list again and saw some jump out at her and others fade.
Tinker was right out of the list. Tinker's had the ability to create beyond advance technology without really understanding how the tech worked, which was a shame since a lot of Tink Tech could really improve general life. The trick was that they still built their crafts out of real materials.
Mover didn't fit really either, Taylor had to be the one moving for it to count. Taylor had tried to reverse summon herself to the Keyblade, but mostly ended up looking foolish.
Stranger was also out for now. It was a strange weapon, but it didn't really lend to infiltration or reality perception when itself appeared in a spark of golden light.
Shaker was out for the single reason the Keyblade hadn't done anything to earn the rating.
Brute could count, however Taylor didn't want to try jumping off a building or throwing the Keyblade into a furnace to test it so it remained at potential zero for now.
Blaster left for the same reason as Shaker.
Changer was uncertain. Was she changing anything about herself to use the Keyblade? Nothing really felt amiss when she summoned the Keyblade. Quite the opposite, it felt to Taylor that she had discovered a third arm or a long lost friend.
Master was potentially in the running. She controlled the Keyblade with her will and need. Summoning it from theKeyblade farm when she wanted, so she had control over it to an extend.
Or maybe it was the other way around...
Striker was untested. Hopefully no one would wet themselves or exploded if she bopped them on the head with theKeyblade.
Thinker wasn't obvious, but there was many kinds so untill Taylor had really had experience there was no telling.
Trump and Breaker were also untested as the idea of running into a cape while she had no idea what her weapon could do was... at best, embarrassing and at worst could end up with some poor cape imploding.
Taylor really had to stop thinking of people exploding or imploding.
So here she sat pondering
Leaning back on her chair Taylor held her arm up and the Keyblade vanished in one flash of light and appeared, in another flash, in her hands.
Blowing out some air she casually threw it on to her bed where it bounced on the springy bed.
She summoned it again and threw it again. Taylor didn't feel any strain at doing this but as she threw it for the fourth time she had snapped her hand up too early and the blade vanished mid spin from the air and back to her hand.
Talyor blinked, that had potential. She was about to throw it again when she froze.
Foot steps in the hall
With all the flashing and jingling noises she hadn't heard her father come back home, forgetting something or other for work.
Hot panic spread through her as she looked for places to hide the Keyblade, but her Dad was already at the her door.
"Taylor? Are you here?" His voice called from the other side, she knew he was reaching for the handle as in panic.
"Dad! Don't come in!" She half squeak, half pleaded as the knob began to turn. Then the Keyblade glowed and a golden beam shot out from the rose head and hit the door.
A small glowing keyhole appeared where non had existed before, right under the handle. The door shook a little as her Dad tried to open the door.
"Taylor? Whats wrong? Are you okay?" Danny demanded loudly. Taylor blinking, spotted her towel on the back of her door and said what came to her mind.
"I'm getting undressed, Dad! I'm just getting ready for a shower." Taylor said in perfect teenage offended tone. The door stopped jiggling.
"Oh... Sorry Taylor, I forgot my ID badge and... what's keeping this door closed?" He asked suddenly alert again. Taylor made a dismissive sound.
"My extra large towel. You must have got it caught under the frame, lucky me." Taylor said with a grin in her voice as she stared at the glowing symbol.
"Ah sorry about that, when you didn't answer I panicked."
A muffled curse came from her Dad's side.
"Sorry hun, I got to get going. Enjoy your shower!" He called as his steps retreated. Taylor didn't bother calling after him.
For the first time Taylor wanted him to leave for a while. Incase for some reason Taylor couldn't unlock the door. It would be an awkward conversation.
Her fingers brushed the glowing keyhole. The frame was golden, but most of the center was a dark void. Taylor's finger just slide over the blackness like glass.
So her giant key... locked and unlocked things.
The logic made Taylor bump her potential Thinker rating down to -2.
Still a step forward is never bad. Raising her Keyblade like a knight, she grasped the handly firmly and pointed it at the keyhole.
"Open." Taylor said, feeling foolishly optimistic, she almost sagged before another beam shot out the Keyblade and the glowing Keyhole vanished.
Without a sound the door opened to the wide smile of Taylor Hebert.