A Skittering Heart

by stewart92

Taylor's trigger was interrupted by a very different source of power. With Keyblade in hand, Taylor must open the way.

16. Chapter 16

Chapter 13: Stay Strong, Deep Down

Thanks to Major, who is the soul of this story, and I, the madness.

"Magic is a force of will and energy, unlike science which is force and energy." Mog said, settling back into his comfy arm chair.

"The difference is that the will always guarantees the same effect for the same amount of input, kupo, so anyone can achieve the same result, spell, for the same price, without having to calculate amounts or such. . It is the way a spell is, its foundation, its purpose. Fire will always burn, lightning will always strike, and cure will always heal, kupo. Will power is different from will itself though. It is a measure of your determination, kupo, your ability to assert your will. Great will power and can allow one person to cast the strongest spells with ease, while someone with little will power can barely get a spark between their fingers, kupo. Will power is an ever changing factor, it cannot be measured by machines, it cannot be touched by weapons, and it cannot be bought or sold. But it's also a fragile thing, kupo, someone could have enough will power to taken on the whole world, then it's broken and they can't even make a single spark."

Taylor frowned, shifting to get more comfortable on the couch, her face intent on the small Moogle.

Taylor had come home to the hospital to find Mog in a strange mood. He seemed distracted and worried, but didn't answer to her prodding. Instead he had asked to see her magic.

Taylor hadn't been shy about it, Mog had been the one to tell her she even had magic… It was the whole reason she had friends now really, as it had allowed Mog to find her and in turn, let Taylor meet Sabah. So with a flash of light, Taylor summoned Melody of the Lost and was ready, so she cast her first learned spell.

"Cure." Taylor had whispered.

Mog had examined the shimmer green sparkles and nodded.

"Cure, the most basic of spells outside the elemental table, kupo. I think I might be able to help you find a, well, a cure for your father." He had said, so casually.

Which lead to her current lecture on magic. Dishes seemed very unimportant now.

"So magic is better than science?" Taylor asked dubiously, twisting her hair as she pondered.

Mog shook his head.

"No, it's important to know that while each has advantages at their peak, kupo, both are useful. Magic is set in its way, while science is ever expanding, exploring new paths. It's rare for new magic to evolve where I come from, there's a lot of ways to use one spell, kupo, but you can never make fire solid like ice. But for you, we shall only focus on magic." Mog explained and floated over to the coffee table.

"Why? Because I have the Keyblade?" Taylor asked, her interest piqued. Mog nodded, floating back and forward as he talked.

"Keyblade users are very interesting people, capable of great things, magic is one of them, kupo." Mog began in a formal tone. Taylor tried to hide her smile at the serious pompous tone. Then she digested his words.

"You've met other people with Keyblades personally? Really? What are they like?" Taylor asked with excitement. Mog faltered at the interruption, before stilling completely.

"Just the one, they were...unforgettable, but I think that's a trait you all share by nature, but it must have been... a while since last seen that weirdo, nice enough, but pig headed. We had a mutual business transaction, as in I got paid to get rid of my excess junk." Mog said with nostalgia. Whether he missed the memory of the person or the money, Taylor wasn't quite sure.

"He? She? Old, young? Anything that isn't cryptic?" Taylor said with a frown. Mog's pom-pom drooped just a little.

"He... He was a friend and I never knew what happened to him, kupo. We kept in touch and then one day, he was just gone." Mog said his voice sad. Taylor felt guilt rush through her.

"Sorry Mog. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry." Taylor murmured quietly, the Moogle always seems so upbeat, it was hard to remember he had lived for a long time, he must of lived through so much and Taylor just carelessly asked without thinking.

"Kupo, it's okay. People I know, especially Keybladers, have a habit of vanishing and turning up when they please. I'm sure he's out there somewhere, kupo, lost and being an idiot." Mog said fondly. Then he shook his head and straightened up.

"Back to magic, Kupo, Keybladers naturally learn magic through experience and exposure. Through combat Keybladers advance their skills and can unlock new spells. They can also learn, kupo, when exposed to new magic's, either by enemies or with magical items. I haven't any on me though, but fire can be a simple spell to try. Kupo, it's usually the first learnt." Mog explained, but then Sabah's voice called form her seat at her desk, back turned to them, hands furiously drawing something flowing and elegant.

"Not in the house, you won't. I have way too many flammable things in here." She said with a rushed tone. A piece of paper floated gently on to the collage on the wall above Sabah, a few peel off and floated down to her waiting hand.

Looking over at her friend Taylor winced at her harried look, while dozens of needles, spools of thread, paper and cloth danced around her.

Sabah was busy, Taylor's life had crashed so suddenly into the older girl's that Sabah had been pushing long term projects to the side in order to help Taylor out. First to let her adjust to being a cape and then to her Dad's... condition. So to compensate for her building work load, Sabah had stayed up all night, sketching, calling, emailing, making a lot of needles fly about like tiny sharp flies.

Sabah could be the filing clerk from heaven is she ever decided she wanted a new career.

"I suppose, kupo, but fire is tradition. Only odd balls start with lightning or ice." Mog said with a whine. Taylor mentally rolled her eyes, Mog was also extremely petulant for an 800 year old being.

Sabah waved him off and a stack papers collided in mid-air from her distraction. A rain of sketches feel over Sabah, who's head twitched slightly. Taylor felt the room tremble as Sabah's telekinesis shook every object within a meter of her. Perhaps, Taylor underestimated how much Sabah was behind.

Taylor scooped Mog up and rushed to the bathroom.

"We'll leave you to your work, shout if you need us!" Taylor called with a nervous laugh, Sabah smacked her head loudly on her desk in response.

When the bathroom door was closed, Taylor breathed a sigh of relief. The tiled room was cooler than the living area, though thankfully no longer as bad as it had been as spring approached.

Taking seats Mog was promptly place in the sink as Taylor grabbed the toilet for her own. The girl grumbled as she nearly missed just barely sitting on the lid's edge before she shuffled sideways. Her depth perception was shot and to add insult to injury was the eye patch. It made her feel like an idiot, which was only compounded by Sabah's jokes.

However, the alternative was leaving it exposed and that made most people go green. While Sabah handled it better Taylor could tell it made the older girl uncomfortable and Taylor wanted Sabah to like being around her. She… she wanted Sabah's to be able to look her in the eye..

So she wore an eye patch and that meant, in Sabah's words, Taylor had become a pirate. In made her grumble and blush, feeling stupid and vulnerable. Crippled. Still, it made her friend smile so she would put up with the jokes… Even though Taylor would kill anyone else who dared to make that joke, quickly, cleanly and silently.

With this in mind, Taylor glared at Mog.

"Really? You just had to bring up fire in a house filled with cloth? Cloth which is flammable?" Taylor said flatly, giving Mog her best deadpan stare. Mog floated above the sink and turned on tap. Cold water rushed out as Mog inserted a plug with his paw.

"It helps her vent, kupo. Sabah is going to exploded or kill us at this rate. We need to distract her, kupo." Mog said cheerfully. He gently floated down and balanced on the bath rim. He pointed at the full sink.

"Now... I suppose we can do blizzard. It's relatively non-lethal if you use it without compressing the crystals together and let it mist, kupo, and nothing will catch fire." He said with a tone of disappointment. Taylor arched her good eye brow at him.

"You like fire or something, Mog?" She asked, half joking.

Mog shook his head, pom-pom flopping.

"It's always amusing to see new students set someone or something on fire, kupo, it's a shame I don't get the same experience as your teacher. Kupo, but as a Keyblader, I suppose that's a good thing. Magic is unpredictable in strength with you lot." Mog replied thoughtfully.

Taylor shook her head in disgust. The way he was so sure Taylor was as good as these other Keybladers, whoever they are, just made Taylor more convinced that she wasn't.

How could she live up to being a genuine, galactic, world traveling hero? Someone who took on entire armies single handedly? A hero where wherever they walked brought hope?

How could she, Taylor Hebert, live up to being as greater hero then even Scion?

"So, let's see if we can make you do some magic, kupo. Keyblade?" He asked and Taylor obediently summoned the weapon from within.

"Now, the element are as follow, kupo: fire, ice, lightning, air, earth, magnetic, time, space, and healing kupo, which we'll cover later. There could be more, there are many magic's just waiting to be discovered after being lost. Magic doesn't like to change itself too much, but there are a lot of options available, kupo." Mog said.

Amazed, Taylor desperately tried to memorize the list, her mind scrambling to remember it. Panic spread across her face which made Mog shake his head.

"This isn't a test, Kupo, you'll pick these up as you go. Just focus on ice for the moment. Now, kupo, you need to feel for the cold inside you. This bathroom works well, as there is a chill, feel for it and try to draw it to yourself, kupo." Mog gently encouraged

Taylor tried to do it, but really she just felt silly. You didn't draw cold to yourself, you were either cold or you weren't. If you waited then you could get cold...

"Can you show me? I might have an easier time if I see someone else do it." Taylor asked, her Keyblade making for a makeshift leaning post.

Mog was silent for a few seconds.

"I... can't." He admitted.

Taylor stood up in surprise, Melody dangling loosely in her grasp. Mog couldn't do magic? Or just the ice spell?

"Why not? If you don't mind me asking?" Taylor said slowly, uncertain as to why Mog couldn't demonstrate for her.

Mog's fur bristled as he floated down on to the ground, annoyed, angry, or embarrassed; Taylor couldn't tell.

"I just can't, lack of talent my teacher said, kupo. Moogles are usually great at magic! However… I was never good at the finicky stuff. I can use magic, but it's a different method and it's not always good in a pinch or in the middle of battle." Mog explained somewhat sadly. Then his pom-pom briefly glowed and suddenly Taylor was moving... up?

Taylor looked down and saw her feet dangling a good foot off the ground. With a wave she propelled herself forward a little. She… she was flying? She was flying!

"I'm flying!" Taylor said excitedly, ever since she was little girl, she wanted to fly. With a half squeak she floated into a wall.

"Not flying, floating." Mog said with a laugh. He flew up and joined Taylor in the air.

"I can use magic, kupo, but not innately. Unlike you who has her own magic, my magic, kupo, has to come from somewhere else as I can't use my own. I can call them, or draw for the more technical term, from people or the land, kupo. Earth-Bet is a bit lacking in magic though, kupo, so I'm limited to drawing from people, like Sabah, which where i got the spell 'float' from." Mog said as he spun in the air and Taylor with a grin copied him.

"That's... insane, Mog, you can draw spells from anyone?" Taylor exclaimed as she hung in the air, the idea that Mog could draw powerful spells from any cape was... Well, it was scary.

It was trump at it's core, drawing on new powers as the situation changed. Mog could go to any Endbringer fight and just load himself up, maybe even draw from an Endbringer. The sheer possibilities…

Mog drooped, plopping himself back down onto the edge of the basin, his tone annoyed.

"I wish, kupo."

Taylor looked down at his sullen tone, her smile faltering.

"You wish? Come on Mog, stop dancing about the subject, what's wrong?" Taylor gently pulled the Moogle to her as her feet gently dropped back to the ground, the spell fading away. Mog snuggled closer as he spoke.

"Humans can use this method and draw from anyone. It's the nature of humanity to be able to pull great power out of beings for great price to themselves, kupo. However, unless you have an Esper, one of my kind, bonded closely to yourself, you will lose everything that makes you, well, you." Mog explained, looking sad. "Memories, hopes, dreams… friends. All gone, given away for power."

"Sounds dangerous, are you sure that you should be using it on Sabah?" Taylor asked, now worried for her friend. The idea of Sabah slowly being hollowed out so Taylor could float a few feet off the ground made her stomach turn. The thought of losing Sabah, losing her best friend… No. Never again.

Taylor narrowed her eye at Mog, demanding an answer from the Moogle.

Mog nodded his head, his pop-pom bobbing gently.

"It's not the targets who are in danger, kupo, but the caster. For a human, they give away a piece of themselves to take the magic. Esper's like me though, we're made of magic so we don't lose ourselves as you do, kupo. As for the target? They might feel tired if you draw too much, kupo, but all you're doing is siphoning of the excess energy used to form spells. Don't get me wrong, idiots have tried to use it as an attack, kupo, but you just hit the magically equivalent of a wall and you can't draw any more. From what I've learned, kupo, i can only draw from her once every few hours." Mog said, paw tapping his chin thoughtfully.

Taylor breathed a sigh of relief at this. She wouldn't lose her. Her carelessness and Mog's magic wouldn't cost her Sabah. Though now she thought about it, Mog's explanation of his own magic raised question about her own. Puzzling, Taylor tilted her head slightly.

"What about me? What spell do you get if you draw from me?" Taylor asked, genuinely curious about the oddity of Mog's magic. Mog looked at her and was silent.

"You... keep changing, I can't get a fix on any one spell, kupo, the Keyblade must be messing my signals up. Maybe when you grow as a magic user you'll become more fixed, kupo." He offered in consolation. Taylor sighed, of course she was messed up magically.

Mog floated out of grasp, resuming the lecture.

"Moogles... are different at the core, when it comes down to it, kupo. Unlike humans, we can't simply take magic, Moogles exist in nature by exchanging energies when we use magic or build things. It's why I'm so good at synthesis, kupo! I can see the material's come together and form, how to use the raw materials to get the outcome. However, with magic, kupo... it just goes right over my head." He sighed.

"Drawing works better for me, but deep down I'm still a Moogle and my magic works the same. When I draw, I give a little of myself back in return, a little bit of energy. It's why Sabah is still awake right now, I draw from her and she feels energized, it's a mutual deal, kupo. Too much drawing and I can just drop like a sack and I can't draw from someone I don't know, their energy is too odd for me to get a hold off for the energy trade. Even then I'm not going to give myself, even a little, to a stranger."

"Not even for powerful spells?" Taylor asked amused. It was kind of funny really, Mog acting as a coffee replacement for Sabah, who hated the drink. Taylor was glad the older girl liked tea, as it was her own preference. But from the amount of sleep Sabah had been getting, she might need more caffeine than tea alone.

Mog interrupted her then, shaking his head.

"I couldn't be sure it would be worth it until I spent time with them, can you imagine spending time with someone you really didn't like, kupo, and all you got in return was munny for the bus ride home?" He said, sounding appalled at the idea.

Taylor agreed, shuddering slightly.

Having to spend time with Sophia or Emma for a new spell? Taylor was sure she couldn't do it, at least not without snapping and trying to hit someone. Mog's point was a lot more understandable if she looked at it that way.

"So, you can only draw from people you know and like?" Taylor asked, mentally rating back Mog's power level. He might still have been a powerful Trump, but if he could or would only apply it to people he knew and liked, he was a lot less versatile.

Mog shrugged. "I don't need to like them, but it helps, kupo."

Taylor thought that it was hard to see Mog not liking anyone, he was just so... likeable. Taylor couldn't put a finger on it. He was just easy to get along with in a way the people weren't. She wondered what that said about herself, that she could get along with a probable alien older than her late grandmother than any human bar Sabah. Taylor's thought's shied away from that idea, returning to the matter at hand.

"So ice..." Taylor said, her eye re-focusing on the full sink. Mog nodded.

"Feel the cold and direct it, kupo, it's the best way to describe it." He offered with an apologetic shrug.

Taylor nodded, this whole magic thing wasn't so hard, she was casting cure like it was nothing, what was cold water to healing?

She raised the Keyblade and stilled.

The air on her skin, the intake of breath, the chill seeping through her socks and the cold feeling of pressure in her chest. All these feelings, concepts, the creeping chill of winter… Taylor focused, feeling her magic shift in a way impossible to describe but it didn't rise to the surface like it did when she cast cure. With a few pushes and urging the magic half rose, but never reached a usable state.

Taylor breathed deeper, the cold collecting in her lungs, she was feeling the cold, but maybe that wasn't enough? Taylor tried to remember the coldest moments of her life. The days that left cold on the inside, like the cold had reached her bones, that her very heart had frozen.

Being trapped out in the rain after a bad day of school, the feeling of being told her mother had been in an accident, the grief of watching her father self-destructing, the terrible horror of the Locker, the cold metal mixing with the oozing mess, the skittering of insects and her screams fading into the darkness…

The feeling of magic exploded, so cold that it made her gasp, and the Keyblade recoiled like a shot gun blast. Taylor tumbled back and nearly fell into the tub. With a wobbled she gasped as she tried to regain her breath, Taylor looked up at Mog who was floating near the ceiling for some reason.

"Did I do it?" She asked excitedly. Without waiting for an answer she struggled to sit up and looked at the sink.

Gently rippling, flowing, unfrozen water sat peacefully in the basin.

Taylor felt her stomach drop. She had put everything into that attempt.

"Mog... I suck at this. Maybe I should just focus on hitting things?" Taylor said and Mog looked at her, then silently floated close to her head, and gently turned her good eye to face to toilet in her blind sight.

The ceramic seat was covered from base to top in a coating of simmering ice crystals. Under the outside of the seat, icicles drooped, scratching the tiled floor. A heavy wave of cold mist washed away from the ice and traveled a fair distance before it faded.

"I... I did that?" Taylor asked, her voice small.

Mog nodded as he broke off an icicle.

"Pretty solid, I was expecting some cold air, kupo, but I didn't expect you prove me by doing this much better." He said with pride. Taylor turned slightly and smiled as she studied her handy work, then her own smile froze.

"Mog... what if Sabah needs the toilet before this melts?" She asked lightlly. Mog turned and examine the ice throne.

"Well... we can always stay in here until it melts, kupo, magic ice fades quickly." He offered and they both stared at the solid ice, then at the door where Sabah slammed something heavy against the wall.

"I'll get the hot water running in the shower, Mog get me a bucket!" Taylor said quickly and quickly locked the bathroom door.

"She's going to kill us, kupo!"

A series of beeps rang out in a dark, empty room, warning of an incoming presence.

The door slid open and the dark was illuminated by a corridor light, it was a big room disguised as a much smaller one due to the sheer amount of tools and trinkets stuffed onto every shelve and drawer. Huge machines and screens occupied one side, pushing out towards the center of the room while on the opposite side, scraps and parts of machines and inventions in various stages of construction and deconstruction lay dissected across a series of work benches.

The only empty space was directly in the center, where a single chair and desk sat, like an island in a sea of metal except with stacks of paper instead of palm trees and several computer screens instead of castaways.

The light was blocked as a man walked in and closed the door. Without moving he reached to the wall beside him and entered a long string of numbers into the security pad causing the light above him to flash green.

Tired looking eyes with heavy bags shone in the electric light. With no windows in the room to let in any natural light, the entire area was bathed in green for a few seconds before the console beeped cheerfully, informing the man of the disarmed security. The green light died as white fluorescent lights slowly flickered to life, the deliberate delay helping the man's eyes adjust, preventing a headache.

With a stiffness that spoke of old injuries and tiredness he walked to the desk and began the long process of booting everything up. It was going to be a long night, bar any catastrophes, so it was worth the time spent waiting. The man leaned back and rubbed at his eyes.

If he had a mirror, he knew he would see nothing but a tired office worker, one who'd had far too many long nights and not enough coffee.

His mouth twitched at that, amused. He supposed, in a way, that was exactly what he was. Well, at least on paper. However, as the screens lit up and more the fluorescents came to full strength flooding the lab with light, Colin liked to think of himself as anything but.

Looking at the far wall he felt a touch of pride as he stared at his armor, charging in its rack, his halberd mounted above it with small hooks. He knew it looked like a show stand for a priceless treasure, but… It was an efficient storage method and… It was a reminder, a source of motivation to do better, to always improve. A promise.

He was an office worker, running logistics for lab equipment and though, he was Armsmaster, Leader of the Protectorate East-North-East, hero of Brockton Bay. He was a proud fighter of the rising tide of chaos that sought to drown Brockton Bay, no, the whole world, beneath its waves.

But he hadn't been Armsmaster much these last few days. It was an oddity that Colin hadn't see coming, one he'd never thought he'd see again after he was promoted. Now though, he was spending more time as Coli Wallis, the mid thirties, short hair, goatee wearing, mundane office worker than he was as the armor wearing, master tinker, high flying super-hero that was his normal job.

As the computer systems finally finished booting up, Colin entered his login code. The random string of twenty digits, randomly generated bi-weekly, was an annoyance but a necessary precaution against infiltration. Unlikely as it might seem, one could never be too careful with Strangers.

Finishing his login, Colin resisted a smile at the call already waiting for him. Clicking the flashing green phone icon Colin heard her voice echoed from the speakers around his lab.

"That's some heavy thinking there, careful Colin." Dragon said, her avatar appearing on screen whilst the red light came to life on his own camera, letting him know it was now transmitting.

Colin faced didn't change at the greeting, but a little tension did ease from his shoulders. It was always good to talk to Dragon, even if it was something as normal as their latest projects. Today though, it wouldn't quite so run of the mill.

"I was thinking about the last few weeks." He said without elaborating. He didn't need too. Dragon, as she always did, understood him, could follow his train of thought as easily as she did the code of a computer. She actually understood him when so few others did.

"I used to think that you were born in that suit of armor, it's nice to see you out and about as normal person for once. So, besides letting your skin catch some needed sunshine, how was she today?" Dragon asked as she did something unseen, her hands drifting about off screen.

Colin respected that about Dragon, admired her for it even, that she was always like, she never stopped working, she never stopped improving, she never stopped helping.

Dragon, she was what he'd always imagined a hero to be, someone like his own mentor. Sometimes he wondered what Hero would have thought of her and lamented that the two had never had the chance to meet. Still, Colin thought she could do with some down time.

Even he recognized the inefficiency of over working yourself. Sometimes you needed to have some down time in order to come back with a fresh perspective. At the pace Dragon worked… It would kill her one day.

He knew he didn't have room to throw stones though, not with his own glass house. Still, Dragon had asked him a question.

"Taylor was... better. She looked positive enough, visited her father for a record amount of time, able to be in his presence for more than an hour now. She also didn't stop in the park to collect herself afterwards as normal." Colin said as he brought up the reports from Dragon.

The Endbringers were stable for now, but the time was fast approaching for the next attack. Somewhere was about to be hit hard and he could only hope it was minor as the Simurgh's last attack, though knowing her some promising tinker had vanished before they could make a difference. Regardless, if they stuck to schedule, and Colin had no reason to doubt they wouldn't, that meant Leviathan was up next.

The Island Drowner.

Fighting Leviathan was a nightmare because unlike the other two, Levithan was fast. Racing across the battlefield at supersonic speeds it moved so quickly that keeping track of it for lone was impossible.

Leviathan also caused the highest civilian death tolls and worse, if not stopped in time, sank entire islands beneath the onslaught of its waves. This was a problem because if the calculations the software he'd been designing with Dragon were correct then…

With a shake of his head, Colin redirected his thoughts to more, not urgent, but… human problems. Besides the incident with Taylor Hebert, only two new capes had appeared in the last two months. Colin wrote a few suggestions about what had been of their powers, recommendations and requests for approach. One was a sound manipulator who could imbued inorganic objects with a set frequency that caused them to vibrated at that frequency for short period of time.

Seemingly harmless it was only a matter of time before the cape discovered resonance frequencies and started leveling buildings. The other cape was a minor brute, but he seemed to get stronger the longer he remained in place. A potentially useful ability, especially given its similarities to Battery of his own team.

As an added bonus, neither one had join any of the existing gangs yet, but Colin expected that was only a matter of time… Unless the PRT and Protectorate got to them first. Tagging the files and pinning his typed responses he sent the files off whilst bringing up another report.

This one was on various crimes committed in Brockton Bay and which suspected villain was involved. He dragged other reports up onto other screens as began trying to eat through the paperwork and make some headway against the bureaucracy that seemed determined to prevent heroes from doing their jobs. He looked over the latest budget cuts he was expected to make, cuts the police had already made, and hmm, a total cut to the Wards psyche team. He carefully highlighted that one and denied it.

Despite most capes disliking them and the poor quality caused by rotating staff, the Wards were legally required to receive counseling, especially Shadow Stalker given probation, not to mention her latest stunt and he'd be damned if he let Piggot short change his Wards because she had their reins now in her grubby grip.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself Colin took a look at next report on the latest reports from central; the latest legal issue with Rogues, once more tightening screws, a report about a potential A class threat in Portugal: a cape with the power to shake the sea bed somehow, possibly large scale hydrokinesis.

He was only a really deemed such a high threat due to possibly upsetting Leviathan early, he couldn't move water out of the sea.

Then there was a summary from Dragon about the research station in Russia that was the Simurgh had destroyed, as well as additional information the thinkers had deemed unimportant.

Finally Dragon sighed, bored on legal minutiae, and resumed their paused conversation.

"You mean she looked happier, Colin? That's good; I was worried about her in the aftermath of the bombings. No sign or indication of the location of Bakuda?" The woman who had an eye on everything, asked him.

"If I had, I wouldn't be here." He answered back as he pulled up the last picture of the mad bomber, taken during her first appearance as a cape and villain during her attack on Cornell College.

Some people eventually fell to villainy after a bad life, others stumbled there along a path paved with good intentions, others were coerced or threatened, but Bakuda was not one of those. No. The Mad Bomber had dived in to villainy with a glee that sickened him. Bakuda, aka Grace Nakane, was the perfect example of someone Colin, no, Armsmaster had sworn to defeat.

A tinker using their powers for frivolous things annoyed him. There was so much potential to be had from someone who really had to work for their strength. Even the Toybox, war profiteers that they were, were at least productive by creating weapons for use against the S-class threats. Tinker's like Bakuda though, using their powers for senseless violence, to kill because they could... It enraged him.

"I suppose. Now for the elephant in the chat room. What are we going to do about Taylor Hebert?" Dragon asked, her tone revealing no obvious emotion. Colin sighed.

Taylor Hebert was a minefield just waiting for someone to rush in right now.

It was supposed to have been a simple in and out scouting mission. Dragon had come to him some time ago about Taylor Hebert; a report sent that was supposed to have been buried.

Shortly after the meeting with Shadow Stalker about an incident at her school, he had been sitting at his desk like he was now, when, also just like now, Dragon had sent him a bunch of reports. Without saying anything or asking him to, Colin had found the complete report by one Emily Piggot, Director of the Parahuman Response Team East-North-East, to her superiors.

Even before the meeting with Stalker to discuss the girl who had been hospitalized, the very girl who was now beginning to give a head ache, he had inquired about requesting the MRI scans of Taylor Hebert's brain, performed because of her coma like state.

However, Director Piggot had already had them retrieved and copied, if not illegally then immorally. She had pre-emptively gone behind Taylor and her father's backs and taken the scans.

It annoyed Colin as he had wanted it done by the official channels. To let Taylor Hebert know of his suspicions, and probably her father too, as well as offering her the safety of the Wards if he was correct. He had been denied contact though, pushed onto other task's.

Now it appeared he had been wrong, Taylor Hebert was not a Parahuman, until Dragon had highlighted a particular passage and then drew his attention to a section of the MRI picture.

Taylor Hebert had a half formed Corona Pollentia, almost non-existent. Even Dragon's software had been hard pressed to spot it, and if even Dragon had trouble, then Piggot and her team would have certainly failed to spot it.

Perhaps she had damaged her head in some way or had her trigger interrupted, saved at the moment of triggering? It was possible, anything was possible at this point but that was another matter. What was important was that Piggot had classified Taylor Hebert as human, and following that logic, decided that the locker was damaged by some as yet unknown cape.

A cape that went straight for Taylor Hebert with an unknown cutting power, hopefully with the intent of rescuing her.

Piggot had kept, or had been ordered to keep, her cards close to her chest and let Taylor go about her normal life with only a few watchers from a far to monitor her. Dragon and he had come to the conclusion it was less about Taylor's protection and more about spotting the cape that might reveal themselves to Taylor after saving her from the Locker.

There was precedent after all; Shadow Stalker had similarly revealed herself to a girl after saving her, one Emma Barnes if he remembered correctly. Shadow Stalker had gone on to become friends with the girl in her civilian identity. When Shadow Stalker's trial had come up, it had been Miss Barnes character witness that resulted in Shadow's Stalker's probation instead of going to Juvenile Hall.

It was then Dragon has the idea of him, Colin Wallis, not Armsmaster, to go out and watch over her, until the report came in of an all clear, then he would confront Piggot. The idea seemed rather basic and even rash for Dragon, but with some thought it made sense, he had the time, his tinkering was at a all time slow.

So in civilian guise he settled into Taylor Hebert's routine, he was hardly noticeable, a trait that irked him, but was useful in this case. A few days a week he would sit at the back of the bus and watch her get in and leave the her house, or the library, or even the odd shop, safely. The PRT had watchers at set locations and a single one, in car, following her the first week.

The first time Dragon had ordered him off the bus entirely after a couple of stops, as she was sure the old lady she spotted through Colin's camera in his wifi-enabled camera in his glasses was going to report him for being extremely creepy.

"People don't stare unblinking at young girls. Especially older men." She had chided him in his ear mic. Colin didn't see the big deal but the odd thirty minutes needed to be filled each time he followed her, so Colin had done something he hadn't thought he would ever do again.

He sketched ideas to pass the time, using just a simple pad and pen.

Colin hadn't done that since he had completed his first computer simulation and design package after joining the Protectorate.

Computers just made his life easier, numbers crunched instantly, designs made possible much faster and more efficiently than pen and paper. However, after the first couple of days of observing and guarding Taylor he began to... well, enjoy the time out of his workshop.

The bus ride, the rumbling engine so different from his bike, the ambient chatting and noises of people, it made him doodle silly designs, new ideas based on anything he could think off.

Colin had put the bulk of his success, time and resources into his armor, halberd and bike. They were his signature and he was damn proud of them. The sketching though, the sketching was different.

It was soothing. The problem for Colin was, one a lot of tinkers shared, that after a while the roads to new tech and ideas began to get stepper and stepper.

The maintenance of his current gear taking longer and longer. The amount of effort to advance even a single step exponentially harder than the last. So much effort went into reaching each new success, and turning to new ideas after sinking so much time into another was galling.

While sketching though, that pressure was gone. Recently he finished a design that would cut the fuel cost and increase the speed of the bus with a few minor fixes. Then that had went on to relocating that extra energy into stronger lights, then better compact wheels, better structure design and then...

Before he knew it Colin was designing a bus that could carry the same amount of passengers in a smaller space, without increasing the discomfort of having to touch anyone.

Then one day Taylor had gotten on the bus, unlike previously where she had been going to the local library or the one downtown, she'd just finished her second day back at school. Instead of the normal, if introverted and modestly dressed teen he was used to, she'd entered the bus a sticky mess, covered in congealing soda that clung to her hair, clothes and bag.

Colin didn't blame the people who chose to walk past her to sit next to someone else. If she smelled as bad as she looked, then Colin would have followed suit. Taylor had taken the bus an extra few stops than her usual trip that day. Far beyond her house and not towards either library.

When following Taylor, Colin had never gotten off the bus. There were watchers that patrolled her street that would take over from when she got off, and as relaxing as this time had become for Colin, he was still a man with a job to do, he just had to hope Taylor would be fine and the PRT personnel would do their job.

However, this divergence from her normal routine had come out of nowhere, or was at least related to her condition. Was she perhaps, going somewhere to use her possible power to clean herself up, relieve stress? Or was she going to meet the cape who had saved her? If such a person existed.

With a snap decision Colin had rocketed off the bus after her and managed to slow himself as he left the bus, ignoring the bewilder bus driver. Looking around for her he'd spied Taylor down the street, already a fair bit ahead of him.

"Follow her, but don't chase." Dragon had urged over his ear mic. Colin had nodded, and followed at a brisk walk. It was easy really, the down trodden girl didn't even look for a tail as she headed for a basement flat in mid-town near the edge of where the ABB claimed land ended and Empire began.

The rain was coming down quite heavily when she bumped into a girl, whom he now highly suspected of being the Rogue cape Parian. After meeting the older girl they both vanished into the apartment and nothing more had happened.

After waiting for nearly an hour and getting thoroughly soaked, Colin decided to leave Taylor there for the day. He needed to return to base to get ready for his patrol which began at 22-hundred. With everything else he had to do today he wouldn't be done until 3 am. He would need defiantly be needing a lot of coffee, even if he disliked the dependency.

Dragon had promised to ping him if there was any disturbance in the area, which had eased his mind slightly.

It had been a quiet night that day, more a relaxing ride on his bike than some of the more frantic patrols he'd had, doing battle with either Lung or Kaiser. Still, Colin had felt a frustration building at yet another night of performing such a Public Relations oriented task when simply being on call would so much more efficient.

While his image helped instill a sense of safety, and the knowledge that such patrols deterred crime and encouraged recruitment, there were so many better things he could have spent the time on. The city needed its problem pulled out at the roots, not this papering over the cracks.

The Empire, the ABB, and the Merchants were poisoning the city each in their own different way. The Empire ran guns and fight clubs for both people and dogs, the ABB dealt in slavery, human trafficking for a more PC name, while the Merchants harbored numerous rapists and kidnapped people, though at least they didn't sell them out of state or overseas like the ABB. On top of that, all of them ran drugs and extortion rackets. Such disturbing and entrenched crime…

It would never end with simple patrols.

Colin had almost crashed in his lab that night, half asleep from caffeine withdrawal, when Dragon had called him.

A situation had arisen on the street where he had left Taylor. He was half into his armor when Dragon called again, this time amused.

Everything was under control and new images were rapidly flooding in as people did what they did best in aftermath of cape-fights or disasters. They took pictures.

"Is that...?" Colin trailed off seeing the figure in the hoodie and red ski goggles. Dragon showed him other pictures, of all angles and distances.

A scowl came over his face when snaps of Assault appeared with a cape he would have bet motorcycle was Taylor Hebert. Dragon enhanced a good quality image of her face and ran it through some filters to combat the red tint.

Taylor's eyes stared out in awe at the older cape.

Looks like he'd have kept his motorcycle, though he'd never doubted it.

"It should be me out there, introducing her formally to the world of capes, the one night I decided not to take the late patrol to try to get some work done on the nano-thoorns." Colin had grumbled moodily.

Dragon had just sighed, her avatar giving a wry grin.

"Focus, Colin, she's a Parahuman." Dragon had calmly pointed out. Colin paused mid thought and swiveled back to the picture of her holding a giant key.

"The size of her Corona, can she truly have any exceptional power? I mean, subjectively, she would have minor telekinesis or something similar, if anything at all." Colin said as he leaned forward. Dragon hummed.

"We don't know that much about powers. There have been scientists studying the Corona Gemma and Pollentia day and night for decades and they are no closer than when they started. A smaller Corona might mean more focused powers instead of powerful ones, didn't Dauntless have an extremely large one?" Dragon's voice turned speculative towards the end, the idea intriguing her.

The 'golden boy' of the protectorate was a sore spot to Colin. It frustrated him that where someone like himself, a true Tinker, had to spend hours every day just maintaining his gear to not slide backwards, Dauntless progressed every day without effort. What made it worse was that Dauntless was called a Tinker too! A Tinker who progressed without effort.

While Colin's powers had diminishing returns after every success, his specialty of efficiency allowing for his remarkable miniaturization, meant he was amazing at getting his money's worth out of everything he built. What would need double the space and energy, Colin could have done in half and then some, but there was always work to be done, ways to fine tune it. And then there was always the next project to work on, the newest upgrade, the newest weapon…

But Dauntless...

He would grow and grow, that fact alone didn't bother Colin, and it was the simple fact that Dauntless got it for nothing. He could sit around eating a doughnut and then he would suddenly charge his spear or boots. Another boost, a little better than before, just like that.

No hours of work, no hair pulling and frustration at the dead ends that his powers couldn't cover, no sleepless nights trying to get a project finished on time, no committees sending hours of effort to the scrap pile because it was too 'dangerous' or 'not PR friendly'… No effort, no stress and all the praise.

People said Dauntless was going to be on par with Triumvirate, that he was the next Legend.

They never once said Colin would be the next Hero.

"It's one of the true facts we have, that holds true across all Parahumans, they all have functional Coronas." Colin snapped, his temper flaring. "Taylor Hebert does not."

Dragon was silent for a few seconds.

"...Not of all them, Colin." Dragon said with quietly.

"You shouldn't be so quick to cast her aside because she isn't a tinker, she may well be, but unless I can scan the weapon, I can't tell." Dragon said continued, her mood stung by Colin's words.

Colin sighed, chastised and weary.

"I apologize, I'm just frustrated that I wasn't there, ready to help."

And ever since that night, Colin and Dragon had kept a closer eye on Taylor. The meeting with the Wards had been promising, Taylor or rather, Keynote, showing positive feelings towards Heroes, even if she distrusted the Protectorate itself. While he didn't approve, Armsmaster could understand her feelings given Director Piggot's actions, not to mention her… confrontation with Shadow Stalker.

However, Bakuda's bombings had almost forced Dragon to inform the Director of a potential risk. Taylor's manic grin and empty eye when she'd tried to collect herself had been troubling for Colin to view later. He'd seen that look before, every Tinker had.

Sphere, the final photo of the famous Tinker after he'd been attacked by the Simurgh. Taylor Hebert had shared that haunted, empty eye with the eyes of a man who would go onto join the Slaughterhouse Nine.

Thankfully, Taylor had not gone down that path. She returned to the home of, he suspected, Parian and had subsequently calmed down and returned to a stable disposition. Now tonight, there was a new problem.

Problems seemed to follow Taylor Hebert like Assault followed Battery.

"Well? I can't stall things any more, we have to make a decision." Dragon's avatar frowned at him from the screen.

"Is the social service finally getting the case files in order?" Colin asked, a smirk on his face.

Dragon had tried to stall an investigation into Taylor's life, the reasoning that the longer Taylor had stability in her life, the less likely she would snap and instead of a moderately heroic Rogue, they'd end up with a murderous Villain.

Parian was that stability right now, the anchor grounding Keynote. So Dragon had... rearranged some things without breaking her personal rules. Colin had to wonder at the insane amount of rules and red tape she set for self when it came to her snooping and powers online.

"They did eventually fish Taylor's file out of the tax forms. Now they're sending someone to speak with her at Parian's. Her father's friend informed the case worker where she was staying. Daniel Hebert had no will, so they're thinking it's a pretty cut and dry case of fostering. I guess he just never got around to making it." Dragon said with a sigh, files popping up.

"So, worst case is that Taylor gets a surprise visit and takes it badly. Best case is...?" Colin trailed off as Dragon displayed a single file on his screen.

"This?" he said unsure.

Dragon quickly highlighted several sections and when she spoke, she sounded smug.

"This is a rogue employment form, it's used by independent companies outside PRT funding to inform the PRT that a Parahuman will be used in one function or another on their bank roll. The sheet asked general things like criminal record, Cape name, age bracket, and so on. The PRT of course can't ask for, or write down, details of the capes civilian identity, outside a representative meeting them while unmasked or charges being pressed. So naturally the PRT would learn the identity regardless." Dragon stated, pointing out each section as Colin read the paper over.

"I'll admit, I haven't seen this before, rogues being so rare as it is here in Brockton Bay, but how does this help exactly?" He said, noting the 1 out 32 stamped at the bottom corner.

"Well as it turns out, this form acts as contract of sort between the cape and the company that hires them. When the law was written so that the PRT could employ capes to form the Protectorate, there were of course many companies that discovered a loophole which meant any organization could legally employ a cape, so long as they were officially employed in their civilian identity." She pulled up the relative laws in another window.

"Efforts have of course been made to plug this loophole or make working for anyone else unattractive to both the cape and company. For example, a company employing a cape is responsible for them in a legal capacity any time they are in costume, not just during working hours. So if, say, an employed cape gets in a fight and damages a car, it's the company's responsibility to pay for the damage so long as the cape was in costume, the cape not actually being responsible themselves to prevent the suing of individual heroes. Similarly, if the cape requires aid, they must go to their company to be taken care off, instead of the PRT."

"So what you're saying is, if someone signs this, then they agree that the PRT will officially wash their hands of them, restricts their power and prevents them from having the full authority of a PRT issued cape? That the company employing them is responsible for them in all activities and party to any crime they might commit?" Colin said, sounding incredulous at the idea of agreeing to so little gain while losing so much at the same time.

It was the direct opposite of how he ran and designed everything, maximum gain for minimal cost. That someone would forgo their own basic rights, or that a law made such a thing necessary and legal…

"Exactly, but it does point out that if Taylor signed this, then the Doll House, which counts under the laws and terms of the contract she signed, could officially step in and stop Taylor from going anywhere. The Doll House is legally responsible for her in all fashions, including being a de facto guardian. I assume Parian was under a similar deal when she signed on, if she was the same general age. The only down side is that this contract is aimed at adults, but it does come with a parental or guardian page, for them to sign and agree that their child is doing this with full permission if they are under age as required for any employment contract for a minor. More, this is the paper work the Doll House sent." Dragon pulled up a sheet of paper that was a wall of text that made Colin's eyes hurt.

"Cape law is so convoluted." Colin sighed in disgust, eyeing the names and addresses scored out.

"Only the Doll House has an unedited copy, which is where the representative goes to check the authenticity, to make sure no wanted capes are posing under a new mask. Danny signed and dated the contract a short while before he was incapacitated by the bombs. It's all legal. If you agree, and it's a pretty big risk career wise, you could be the representative without needing Piggot's permission. It never specifies who needs to see the cape unmasked, just that someone does. Whether that person is a Cape or not is never actually covered, it's just has to be a member of the PRT, which Colin Wallis is." Dragon said lightly, trying not to sounds too happy at the way it was all coming together.

"One problem, you can't be a security guard if you're not of age, that's a normal law. Cape or not." Colin shot back, reclining in his chair. Dragon's tone got even smugger if that was possible.

"Keynote isn't officially a security guard, look again."

Colin flicked the screen back to the first page and read past the names and dates, past the titles and then on to the occupation. He felt his lips twitch. As much as he might like having a new Ward, seeing another cape doing good was sometimes enough. And giving Piggot a headache, whilst inefficient, often gave him some grim satisfaction for her often obstructionist behavior. More so now she'd managed to wrangle the Wards under her personal control.

"Piggot isn't going to be happy, is she?"

"Not at all."

Taylor was dreaming and…

It was… really one of favorites, she was on stage and the world was cheering her on, a guitar styled like the Keyblade in her hand. She raised it higher and the endless amount of people went wild, Taylor felt herself grin and look down. There in the front row...Sabah cheered the loudest and hardest, her own smile and excitement clear on her face. Taylor reached down and pulled her out the crowd, ignoring everyone else, Sabah wasn't anyone else...Taylor put a hand to the guitar and...

…was suddenly interrupted by loud crashing noise, startling her awake.

Eye snapping open she simultaneously tried to blink away the sleep gumming her eye and squint against the invasive brightness from someone turning on the lights.

Reaching up to rub at her eye to speed things up, Taylor's caught movement just out of the corner of her eye and behind the couch. Turning she looked up and screamed.

A face was leering over her, its mouth inhumanly wide. Taylor scrambled back and fell off the couch with a thump. The pain from the bump brushed away the last cobwebs of sleep from her mind. Shaking her head she looked again at the thing behind her bed… couch.

A girl, no, a boy… Both? A person stood where Taylor had last seen them, there face painted with an exaggerated smile that went from ear to ear. The paint made her skin white and her smile ruby red. They leaned forward with a cascade of jingles from the movement, Taylor's eye flicked over them, taking in the invader.

A jester was the most immediate thought. A tight orange suit with teal highlights along the sides and arms, small gold bells rested on her orange cap, more at her wrists and ankles.

The jester took a steep and coattails that she had missed before fluttered and more bells shook at their tips. Taylor looked about and spotted and open high window on the other side of the room, curtains fluttering in the breeze.

How the hell did the Jester get in here and over to her without waking her while wearing bells? Speaking of which, what did wake her, it wasn't the bells?

The answer came from behind her.

"Get away from her!" Sabah snarled as she dashed,through her swinging bedroom door and picture covered wall to stand in front of Taylor, shielding her from the clown. Jesters were supposedly common in the costume department, more so on the villain side, but this was Taylor's first glimpse of one and she finally understood the feeling of being creeped out and terrified of them was fully justified.

"Sabah, what the hell is going on? Who is that?" Taylor demanded, her voice octave higher than she would have liked but too freaked out to really care.

Sabah waved her hand, a thread flying from and connecting to a giant bear draped over a chair for repairs began to inflate.

"Now, now." The jester said, her voice harsher than Taylor expected. A knife flew from her hand and the bear popped like a balloon and Sabah flinched. Another knife appeared in the girl's hand and she began to toss it up and catch it.

"First off, I got'ta fucking apologize for this, I didn't actually think you slept here. Was hoping it was a base or some shit, so uh... sorry for unmasking you and attacking you in your home and shit." The Clown said, catching their knife overhead at the peak of every throw. Bells jingled as their arm moved, repeating the motion.

Throw.

Jingle.

Throw.

Jingle.

Throw.

Jingle.

"Second, I'm not here to hurt you, so don't go trying to cause shit, yeah? I'm going to do what I came here to do and fucking get out, it's a job, nothing fucking personal. So, we fucking clear?" They said.

The jingling must have finally set Sabah off.

"I know you. You're that two-bit thief, Circus. What do you think you're doing barging in here? This is my home, my private home. Do the rules meannothing to you?" Her friend demanded.

Circus nodded as if Sabah was calmly informing of the weather.

"Like I said, shit fucking happens, and I'm a thief, personal space invasion is kinda my fucking thing, you get me?" Circus said, her tone flippant.

Taylor goggled at her. She may not have been a cape long, and was kind of new to the whole unwritten rules thing but… Wasn't attacking another cape in their home something that was frowned upon? Or brutally murdered upon?

More, Circus had managed more fucks in the last 2 minutes that Taylor had in the last 2 months. It was… kind of impressive.

The jester's actual mouth seemed to shift into a frown or a grimace, it was hard to tell with all the paint.

"How the fuck did you hear me anyway? I've practiced my ass off to do this thing in my fucking sleep." Circus asked, a hand on their hip, catching the knife for the final time as it fell with the other hand.

Sabah's lips thinned, her expression icy.

"I have... a pet that likes to get out, the windows creak when you open them, I thought he was stuck." Sabah explained curtly, then she twitched her wrist and the rug under Circus suddenly flew out from where it lay. Circus flipped into the air, completing a whole spin to land on their feet.

Non-plused they stood up, tilting their head speculatively.

"That's what I get for not fucking scouting ahead, rookie mistake, but no offense or anything, you guys don't really seem all that fucking threatening, but fuck me, right?" Circus bent and scooped something up.

Taylor's Keyblade.

"Love to stay gossip and all that fucking jazz, but I got shit to do." Circus said cheerfully and then flipped backwards and then launched herself out the open window, the Keyblade over her shoulder.

Silence past between Taylor and Sabah as they looked from each other, then to the window.

Taylor raised one hand and in a flash the Keyblade appeared safely in her grip.

"Circus isn't going to like that." Sabah said with a sigh, Mog peered out, head poking around the bedroom door.

"Is safe to come out? I could help, kupo." Mog said.

Sabah shook her head firmly.

"No one gets to see you, especially people like Circus, less they kidnap you and dissect you." She said without joking, her face grim. Taylor guessed having your home invaded would put anyone in a bad mood. Hell, it was terrifying and she didn't even… well, not officially… It wasn't home.

Taylor snapped back into focus as Mog vanished back into the bedroom and hid. She rolled her eye. Mog was a giant wuss when it came to Sabah. It was cute.

"Well, that was weird. Is she dangerous?" Taylor asked as Sabah moved forward and closed the window with a pole.

"Mostly harmless, she's a small time thief who likes to run when things get hot, never heard of her going after capes before..." Sabah said and before she could continue, there was a polite knock at the door.

Sabah looked at Taylor before she sighed and opened it.

Circus was standing there, arms crossed, definitely frowning now.

Her foot tapped impatiently.

"This is going to sound fucking weird, but I swear just stole something and it fucking ran away from me. Is that normal? Or am I fucking crazy?" The Jester asked Sabah seriously.

Sabah slammed the door shut and locked it. Turning, the Middle-Eastern girl made it a few stepped before Circus broke the door down with a giant cartoon like hammer.

"Knock, fucking, knock!" Said the Clown with a crazed gleam in her eyes. Sabah scrambled back, but Taylor had already rushed forward, Keyblade raised and at the ready, blocking Circus' next strike, giving time for Sabah to climb to her feet.

Circus eyed the Keyblade blocking her hammer and licked her lips.

"Come to Circus." She whispered snatching at the sword . Taylor leap back retreating step for step as the evil clown advanced. Taylor didn't really know how to handle this, what did you do with a crazy villain trying to steal your magic sword?

Hmm, Sabah had tried to knock Circus on her ass, so maybe Taylor decided she should follow her friend's example. With a sudden step forward, Taylor jabbed the Keyblade at the other cape. With the fluidity of a snake, Circus side stepped and swung the hammer at Taylor's side.

Taylor rolled back, ending up across the room but Circus chased her with a cartwheel. Coming out of her spin, Circus heaved her hammer and slammed it down and missed as Taylor rolled again, but reduced the coffee table to splinters.

Seeing her chance, Taylor lunged at her, Keyblade swinging, but then without warning the giant hammer was gone from its place on the floor and was traveling in Circus's other hand towards Taylor's face.

A giant rabbit paw caught the hammer, halting the weapon cold. It then exploded in a rush of air that sent Circus tumbling back and the hammer crashing behind the kitchen counter. Sabah stood, panting over the tattered remains of the giant bunny.

"Get away from her, you bitch!" Sabah snarled, eyes wild. The day had not been any kinder to Sabah as it went on; the stress of clients' wants and needs for a slimmer dress, a tighter bosom, changing colors or booking times, costly materials, and even personal tailoring had made Sabah... cranky.

"No need for the fucking name calling!" Circus called out from the other side the room, flipping to their feet. With a flick of the wrist, a knife appeared in their hand. Another flick flung the weapon which flew out and past Sabah's face, leaving a thin cut. Her friend yelped and dived behind the couch for cover.

Circus took the distraction as a chance to rush towards the kitchen, Taylor threw the Keyblade in an attempt to stop her. It spun through the air whistling towards Circus, who rolled over the counter, over plates, pots, scales and even a cook book trying to dodge as the blade homed in. Taylor blinked as she watched though because each item vanishing as it made contact with Circus. The jester vanished form view as they flipped the table onto its side and without a target the Keyblade impaled itself into the overhead storage space for cans.

Taylor saw a gloved hand dart up from where Circus was, grasping at the Keyblade, fingers brushing the metal. Taylor called it back and it reappeared in her hands, Circus's hand quickly withdrew. Taylor cursed, her aim being shot due to her missing eye...

Not that she was complaining, now that she thought about it, bisecting Circus wasn't a good thing, it was one thing to beat the crap out of her, but another to be her murderer.

Circus darted out without warning and ran at her, kicking a pillow at Taylor, who freaked and slashed it, sending cotton everywhere. The orange clad girl ran up onto a wooden chair that was never comfortable and tipped it forward towards Taylor, balancing it perfectly as she flicked her at Taylor's hands.

Taylor flinched as she was unable to move in time and braced herself to feel the stabbing pain of Circus's... whisk?

Taylor blinked at the metal whisker as it bounced harmlessly off her hand.

Circus tipped back and flipped to the other side of the couch, kicking the chair at Taylor as she did so, forcing her to dodge. With quick motion the whisk was flung aside and then a spoon took its place. They stared at it then quickly shook their hand and then a plate took its place, then an unused cook book, then a rolling pin. Circus eyed it and gave a disgusted grunt.

"I guess this will do, I fucking hate being so damn bloated. You're lesbian lover, boss lady needs to clean her fucking kitchen out. It's fucking unhealthy to have this much junk." Circus, pointing the rolling pin at Taylor.

Taylor frowned in response.

"I'm not her lover and I'm not a lesbian." Taylor corrected her.

Circus shrugged.

"Don't mock it until you've knocked it." She said simply and grinned at Sabah who was red faced with anger.

"Stop stealing my stuff!" Sabah ordered, eyes blazing and cheeks flushing even more.

Circus kissed the rolling pin and charged Taylor again.

Sabah suddenly ducked sideways and sent a roll of discarded fabric that had been knocked aside in the chaos at Circus, the fabric rolled along and then like a snake, snagged Circus mid-run.

The fabric quickly spread, coiling around and around the manic clown. More and more layers appeared as Sabah touched other fabric rolls until Circus looked like a giant present, minus the bow.

Sabah sighed and glared at the wide eyes of Circus, the only part left uncovered.

"You tried to cut through that and I'll squish you until you're nothing but red dye. Stay still until we decided what to do with you." Sabah threaten and turn to Taylor, but before she could say anything the entire fabric containing Circus was gone and a quick tap on Sabah, Circus had the soft prison appear around the smaller girl, though it was much looser, but with the eye window on the back of Sabah's head.

Sabah immediately tripped over and began to panic. Taylor swiped at Circus, who avoided each whistling blow with ease.

"Your aim is shit. The eye patch can't be fucking helping at all." Circus mused and then grabbed Taylor's arm and spun her into a nearby wall with a cracking sound.

Taylor's vision blurred as her head smacked into the wall. Her ears ringing, and black spots floating across her vision, she almost crumbled there. But with a force of will she lifted the Keyblade into the air and the familiar green sparks washed over her.

"Cure."

Taylor's vision cleared and she pulled herself up, Circus stood there, watching, mouth hanging open.

"That... wasn't fucking mentioned in the contract. You're a fucking healer that can heal yourself? Are you shitting me?" she demanded angrily.

Taylor narrowed her gaze at the other cape and decided enough was enough. This person, this cape, this villain had broken in to Sabah's home, her friend's home… Maybe even her home and they thought they were allowed to be angry?!

Pointing the Keyblade at Circus, she called up the feeling that she had summoned only that morning, this time keeping her eye open. The creeping cold of despair, the chill of terror, winter's icy touch…

The Keyblade glowed at the tip and she pulled the magic back a little, not wanting to shoot icicles, but wanting the same punch to the spell

A fine mist exploded out the Keyblade and hit Circus full on, a layer of ice suddenly forming across every inch of Circus's body.

Circus tried to move but found herself struggling against her unmoving prison. Taylor grinned at her success. Magic was unbending in its rules, but outside that? There was a lot she could do, a thousand ways to use the same spell so long as she was determined. It was even better that iciles which would have killed Circus because without air she'd suffocate. Then Taylor could just break them out when they fell unconscious and were no longer throwing knives at her friend.

Taylor moved past the frozen cape, glaring at their struggles, and began to help Sabah get out of the tangled fabrics.

Taylor had only been at the task for a minute before she heard the sound of hissing air and turned to see Circus's entire body glow with heat, as if fire were flickering beneath the ice. The ice melted off her, the prison shattering with a crack as frozen lumps fell to the floor.

When Circus looked up, Taylor felt her own body freeze.

Circus took off her cap, a tied up mop of blonde hair being revealed and twisted the hat with both hands, a healthy amount of water rinsed out from the fabric and then Circus shoved it back on, the cap losing most of its cheerful pluck, now reminding Taylor more of a wilting flower.

Circus took a breath and then released it. A knife appearing in their hand, they began to spin it slowly and purposely.

"Okay, I am a rational person, I understand that you, being the victim in all this, would be understandably upset at me, the criminal, for disturbing you this good night. I, the criminal, understand that I do no incur feelings of generosity or good hostlyness." Circus said in a very calm and light voice.

It scared Taylor more than anything else she had done tonight, the lack of anger made her somehow sound much more threatening, not less.

"However, I do not like getting fucking wet!" Circus screamed, her eyes losing any semblance of humanity as she rushed at Taylor like a wild animal, Taylor gaped at her and reached for the Keyblade she had left next to her on the ground, but Circus flipped and landed on her, pinning Taylor's arms under her body, a knife under Taylor's chin.

"Now, now. This is where the fucking game stops. I am going to take the fucking big, beautiful, key, and you are going to fucking stay here." Circus crooned, trailing the knife against Taylor's throat. Taylor glared at her.

"You won't get far, it always comes back." She said, trying to keep her voice steady. Circus smirked and reached for the Keyblade, never taking her eyes of Taylor's.

"I have a solution for that, a place where only I can fucking get to. Doesn't matter if it gets lost after I turn it over, tough shit to the next person. Once I have it, it loses its shine. Becomes... boring."

And the she touched the blade and the room exploded in white light.

Taylor felt something twang and scream inside her head and she knew no more.

Consciousness was suddenly thrust upon Taylor and she sat up bewildered, the couch she was lying on was the same one she been sleeping on for the last week and bit.

Sunlight was streaming in through the ground level windows up near the ceiling, illuminating the flat. Taylor stood, blankets falling to the floor and wobbled forwards. She… she had to help. Cir-circus could still… still be around.

Catching herself on the end of the couch she looked around and the place looked... tidy? The damage Circus had caused, and some she had done herself, was mostly swept away.

Taylor only saw a few splinters left over from the table on the floor, the open space looking unnatural to her. It was odd seeing empty space where Sabah's favorite table had always sat, where they'd shared so many memories together.

Hearing voices coming from behind her, Taylor spun around, confused. Sabah was stiffly pointing a finger at a blond man in the kitchen, who was eating something.

Taylor felt something stir at the sight of him, but her head still felt foggy and she couldn't place him.

Suddenly panic shot through her as Taylor remembered what Circus had done at the end. Desperately she called and her shoulders slumped in relief as the keyblade appeared with a familiar flash in her hand.

So Circus hadn't managed to steal it, that was relief.

Still, that left the stranger sitting in Sabah's kitchen. Sabah never had anyone over, in all the times Taylor had come over, or during her time staying here, Sabah had never invited anyone else, unless you counted Mog and Boco but they lived here. She looked the man over as she tried to get her bearings, wondering who the hell they were.

The man was older than Taylor, late teens, possibly early twenties if she had to guess. The light blond hair spilling down his neck and brushing his shoulders was well cared for, it flowed rather than hung. He was the same height as Taylor, but had the body of a dancer, the slightly too tight shirt showed no fat, but tightly corded muscles. The shirt was torn slight at the bottom, exposing a thin strip of his stomach and the jeans were ripped at the knees.

'Bad boy' was the vibe she got from the clothes, but the face and body gave off another vibe altogether.

Dangerous.

He moved silkily and without hesitation when he talked, the food always hitting dead center of his full lips.

As Taylor approached, she began to hear more than just a murmur, their attempt at being quiet had kept her from listening to them sooner.

"-this is how you begin repaying us, payment that I've already told you doesn't even begin to make up for what you did? By eating my cake, my lastslice of cake?" Sabah said with a dark look, her hands balled into tight fists.

The man shrugged and grinned. The familiar pang of knowing rang in Taylor's head again, follow by intense pain.

"Well I thought, 'Poor girl has got this really fattening piece of cake and she has no will power, I better fucking eat it before she gets fat,' so that's what I fucking did. Nice of me, right?" The man, Circus, said cheerfully. Taylor reeled back as the image of Circus was laid over the man, the costume, the body language, the language… It was more than enough for her to fit it together in her head and it fit perfectly.

Taylor reached for Sabah and tried to scramble back at the same time. Circus grinned at her, his mouth full of dark cake.

"Morning, sunshine. Slept like the dead you did." Circus said as he swallowed, Sabah raised a hand, her fist uncurling and waved her down, stopping Taylor's desperate tugs. Taylor looked into the older girls eyes, seeking an answer.

"Taylor, we're okay, it's fine, there's no danger to us." Sabah said slowly and carefully. Taylor blinked at her.

No danger? Was Sabah insane? Circus, the mad clown himself, was less than five feet away and Sabah said there no danger?

"Sabah, I think your guest is... uh… well." Taylor floundered for the right words as she gestured at the hole in the cupboard. If Sabah hadn't, whatever reason, picked up on the clues, then Taylor had to be careful, if she just blurted his cape name out, he might drop whatever little game he was playing and resume the killer clown one.

Circus nodded and looked up, and raised a hand to point at his own face.

"Handsome? It's a fucking curse." He lamented the hand shifting to clutch his heart while he looked heaven-ward, as if blaming God.

Sabah shot him a dirty look, her lip curling, it was a new look Taylor had never seen before, absolute disgust. Sabah hadn't even used this look after talking to Kaiser, king of the Nazis. All around her, on the floor, counters, shelves and even in her hair, there was dozens of silver little needles. They all laid perfectly still.

Still, Taylor had seen the kind of frenzy Sabah could whip them into and she felt a little bit safer.

"Is Circus, I know. He hasn't left since you got knocked out, to be honest, I haven't let him. Once I got out of the fabric roll, we... had a disagreement. He tried to steal your Keyblade three more times and just kept coming back. I got pissed off." Sabah said smoothly as a single needle stood straight up on its point and began to turn slowly. Behind her, more smashed plates slowly picked themselves up and floated towards a black bag. The needle spun fast and faster, almost becoming a blur.

A warning.

Taylor felt her head throb as the confusion built.

"Why?" Taylor asked incredulously, pointing, much like Sabah had moments before, at Circus. The man shrugged in response and pointed at Sabah, as to say 'ask her'.

Sabah opened her mouth, closed it and threw her hands up in disgust. A bunch of needle rattling violently at the expression.

"I've been trying to figure that out. I don't know what to do with him." She said, her tone angry at his presence

Circus stage coughed and both girls glared at him.

"Well... for one, I crashed in here like a fucking idiot last night and sort'a flipped my shit out. I unmasked you's for one thing. So to make things fair, and to make sure you don't blab and get everyone after my head, especially since you're fucking chummy with the Nazis, I decided to even the odds and so voila, here I am." He bowed with smile.

"Jess Quinn, at your fucking service." Circus, Jess, said pompously.

Talyor stared as he straightened. Sabah snorted.

"Also the fact you can't take the Keyblade and the fact that I'm holding you prisoner, has nothing to do with you still being here." She said acidly.

Jess's face was the picture of innocence, except for the impish grin.

"I never said I was here under my own power . I already called off the job, paid back the money by phone, and explained that the object in question was quite fucking unstealable, per you're fuck-...politely worded request." Jess said, the last of the cake vanishing into his mouth, as he rapidly changed his words at Sabah's expression.

"I told you to watch your language..." Sabah said, more needles spinning now.

"Called who?" Taylor asked with a narrowed gaze, demanding an answer. The headache making her squint

Jess didn't appear impressed.

"My employer of this particular job, who's name and identity will be kept to my fu-... self, he ain't a man to cross. So, like a smart person, I'll keep my mouth shut and so will you's. Don't push for answers. Dolly girl over there is scary, but the man I work for is far worse." Jess replied, his tone dropping from cheerful for the first time since Taylor woke up, the absolute seriousness now leaked from his words.

Sabah crossed her arms.

"If that's all you have to say, then fine, you can stay here until you tell us." She said flatly.

Jess put a slender finger to his chin.

"I could... But I won't. If you keep me hostage, you'll need to keep me secure, feed me, or at least water me and then when you start torturing me, you better sound proof these windows. I was expecting a tinker's side lab or something, but this is way under budget, unless you got yourself a nice little dungeon next door?" Circus said, and Taylor was silently impressed by his composure, but saw his hands flex like he wanted something sharp there and was restraining himself.

Then Taylor saw why.

Behind Circus's head was floating needles, all the way down to his boots. Each needle wavering only slightly. Only a few floated in front, halting any chance of him running.

Sabah was effectively creating a one sided iron maiden.

"My heart bleeds, now answer the question." Sabah said as she turned away.

Taylor bit her lip. This wasn't like the gentle girl at all, but if she stopped her, then Circus would take the chance to escape or strike back, or even worse, Sabah would feel like Taylor didn't trust her.

She didn't really care for Jess, at all, she was sure that she would now have a phobia of clowns for the rest of her life, but the feeling of just torturing someone for information was far beyond her comfort level and she was 99% sure it was for Sabah too.

It was… was unheroic. Didn't Heroes refuse to stoop to such levels? Even to Villains? She was a Rogue, but still.

This line of logic didn't strike her as very persuasive thanks to her jaded mind. Everyone could be a horrible person, just look at E-Emma. But Taylor was a Hero and Heroes were supposed to help people… Even someone like Circus. Still, in her experience no one really helped anyone, not for nothing… Well, except Sabah. Sabah had helped her for nothing, but that was exception not the rule. Even if she was trying to be like that, to help people like Sabah had helped her… Did that really apply to someone who had attacked Sabah? Discarding that line of reasoning, Taylor tried a different self-justification.

If Jess, the mad clown, was in here, with them, he would eventually talk or bargain with them, if Sabah began to weaken, then all they had to do was phone the police and report the break in of a mad man.

Then hope Circus went quietly, or if he did try to let something slip, remind him casually that he was painting a target on his back if he did. Parian's identity might still leak, however, and letting people, the E88 in particular, find out that Sabah was operating in E88 land was bad. So the police were out. Sabah might even reject the PRT out right, her dislike of the organization was still a bit of a mystery to Taylor, but the PRT could very well turn this into a 'you owe us and we will collect' kind of thing and that was worse, for Sabah anyway.

So if they could lure the jester into relaxing, letting something slip… Then they could boot him to the curb afterwards, with a needle to help him along the way.

So logically, the smart thing to do was... help Sabah apply pressure.

"Taylor, don't get close, that power of his let's him send or summon anything he touched from all over his body to somewhere else, my telekinesis seems to clash with it a little, but I don't want you getting knocked out again." Sabah said.

Taylor looked at her and tried to appear confident, even as she felt her heart wilt beneath her friends worried gaze.

Sabah didn't like this at all, the needles, the threats, the stress... Sabah wanted to create dresses and moan about customers, to stuff her into ridiculous dresses and too tight jeans… Then this jester freak came along and made her use her power to fight? To force Sabah to use violence when she hated it? To make Sabah use her power in a way which it upset her?

"You aren't going to kill him if he moves right?" Taylor began and Sabah's eyes bugged out of her head at the suggestion

"I feel tempted, he stabbed my bear and smashed my rabbit. I'm not feeling charitable." She said quietly. Taylor tried to point out that he also nearly killed her with a knife to throat, but Sabah wasn't in the mood for distractions.

"I just remembered! The man who hired me, silly fucking me, and ignore her Taylor, girlie here is just crabby because she isn't getting any moist cake or moist action. She's after womanly company, but she's all lonely." Jess said, slightly leaning back and testing the needles, wincing as they pricked him, Taylor saw a few of the sliver pins move back just in case.

Sabah's hands begin reaching for something to throw, her eye twitching, needles rattling.

"Ah don't worry…" Jess began before Taylor coolly pointed the Keyblade at him, pushing his attention away from Sabah to her.

"I'm going out anyway, I'll buy her cake, and I am woman, I am her companion. She's got me so she won't be lonely." Taylor said, standing firm, feeling in control of the situation.

Jess's mouth dropped open and Sabah put a hand to her face.

The silence stretched out as they both continued staring at her. Taylor felt like she was missing something here.

Sabah silently made a 'zip-it' motion at Jess as he began to choke.

Taylor watched the man begin to make faces of pain as he struggled to breath, the needles pressing closer.

Loud, obnoxious, laughter began to bubbling up from his chest as he struggled not to move.

Taylor stood there stone faced until he stood straight again and wiped a tear from his eye.

"Holy fucking shit, that was sore." Then he was lost in another bout of laughter as Sabah stormed forward, her face red.

Taylor didn't like his tone, nor what he seemed to be implying. Not at all.

She was no comedian.

Taylor continued glaring at Jess even as he laughed.

Then she saw the stiletto heels on his feet and felt curious, that turned to annoyance, then to anger.

Jess stopped laughing when the Keyblade smacked him across the mouth, thankfully it didn't cut him like it did everything else. So, she was right, it wasn't just Shadow Stalker. The Keyblade cut what she wanted it too and that meant…

She looked down on the man in heels who was looking back at her in shock. The needles floating around him. Then everyone looked at the plate that had flown out from where the Keyblade impacted his skin and crashed to the floor, it was Sabah's. Jess turned, indignation on his face when Taylor hit him again.

Good reflexes where only good when you weren't in a heap on the floor it seemed. A knife this time flew out and clattered on the vinyl.

Sabah just stared in shock unprepared for the scene. Jess rolled and stood, hands up in a gesture of surrender, trying to get Taylor to stop hitting him.

Taylor just growled at him.

"The first was for cutting Sabah's cheek, the second one was for laughing at me." Taylor said tightly.

Jess examined the plate and looked towards Sabah's and the knife at her feet in surprise.

"You... knocked those out my bag." He said numbly.

Taylor gritted her teeth, her lip curling in a snarl.

"I'll knock more out next time if you ever pull this crap again. I might do it anyway, I have a really big headache, and hitting you makes me feel better." Taylor said, temper exploding, advancing a step. She stopped though as Sabah laid a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

"Coil. It was a guy called Coil, who hired me, that's all I know about him and this job. Can I fucking go now? I mean, legally speaking, kidnapping and holding me hostage is worse than home invasion." Circus said with little emotion. The fun and games had finally ended it seemed.

Sabah had paused and then nodded. The needles floating in front of Taylor and her like a shield. Taylor shook her head, and opened her mouth to argue when her headache flared up. Wincing, she bent over clutching her skull.

"Taylor, you can't fight like this, let him go. We can talk later, about what to do, but for now... just let him go, he's nothing." Sabah said, her eyes also on the knife.

Jess nodded.

"I only wanted to stay long enough to make sure I hadn't fucking killed you. I dunno what happened, but my head had been thumping all fucking night. " He said, sounding generally uncaring if the fact of her death turned out to be true. He walked to the front door and looked back.

"I'm not going to tell you to keep quiet about this shit, you'll do it because if you go to the villains, they'll ask if you know my identity and since neither of you can lie for shit, they'll call it even after I went through the effort of making it up to you. If not, I'll vanish and you two will be murderers by association. If you go to the heroes, then you'll have to fucking unmask too, and if you don't then you can't share the details, if you can't share details, then you'll be charged with holding back information on your own crime. Parian here, is in E88 land and she is a big juicy target, so don't be doing anything stupid. Welcome to the game girls."

Then he was gone.