You wake, as you often do, to the beeping of a heart monitor. Your last memories are fuzzy, filled with thoughts confinement, feelings of betrayal, and an overwhelming despair shot through with anger.

The hospital room is utterly nondescript. Its very nature screams "generic hospital room." While you can't really remember much or figure out why you're here, you do feel a lingering soreness. A deep stiffness and parching thirst speak to both long- and short-term residency in this uncomfortable bed.

Reality filters back in. You're Taylor. Taylor Hebert. Some... thing... happened at school and now you're in the hospital. Memories of Emma's betrayal, Madison's pranks, and Sophia's shoves dribble back into your mind.

Sad. That they are called forth before bittersweet memories of a dead mother and forlorn memories of an absent father.

There's something out of the corner of your eye. You blink rapidly. It refuses to go away. It looks like little digital numbers, in this case reading 1/100. You turn your head and the numbers turn with you. Are you hallucinating? You focus more closely on the numbers, thirst momentarily forgotten. As your mind spirals in, you find yourself suddenly floating in a blank void, faced with row after row of... yourself. Ghostly figures, all vaguely translucent and standing loosely at attention. They... mostly look like you. Some are taller, a great many are prettier. Further out, they seem to get more monstrous.

Right in front of you is a girl who looks almost exactly like you. Taking a closer look, you see a cloud of spectral fireflies, butterflies, and other insects orbiting her. Just to her left is a version of you that looks horrible. Pale. Sunken eyes. Thin to the point of skeletal. Around her are ghostly images of herself pushing outwards with her mind. And to her right is a girl in a weird outfit with makeup vaguely reminiscent of a mime's. She is surrounded by translucent images of forcefields and other constructs.

What to make of all this? You feel weirdly calm surrounded by these visions of yourself. You give the barest thought to pulling back and find yourself in the hospital room once again.

Are you crazy? Was that just a hallucination? Some sort of weird parahuman power? No, best to put that thought out of mind. There's no way to hope that you've actually developed parahuman powers as a result of whatever landed you in the hospital.

But it couldn't hurt to take another quick look at all those you's floating there. You direct your mind once again, and find one version of you particularly intriguing...

Choices:

Spoiler

Choose Taylor's first Taylor's power:

[X] Canon Taylor. Bugs, in all their Biblical-plague glory: 1.01 Worm

[X] Forcefield constructs based on miming an action: Silencio - Worm AU

[X] Telekinesis. Ten pounds of force, but hey it's not limited by the Manton Effect, and ten pounds of force applied over a very small area means lots and LOTS of pressure: That Gnawing Worm, Cancer [Worm AU]

[X] Write-in. Choose a fanfic Taylor with a power that is roughly similar to or lower-powered than canon Taylor.

Choose Taylor's alignment:

[X] Lawful good. Join the Wards or New Wave.

[X] Hero-ish. Independent hero or rogue with heroic leanings.

[X] Villain-ish. Join the Undersiders, U , other independent villain group, or rogue with villain leanings.

[X] Evil. From a certain point of view. Join E88/Merchants/Coil/Villain gang and clearly intend to use powers for personal wealth or power.

Choose the Trio's fate:

[X] Canon. Taylor just moves on. Living well is the best revenge and who gives a shit about them.

[X] Good/reconciliation. True heroes see the chance of redemption in us all. Even that cunt Emma.

[X] Revenge within the system. Hyperbole aside, the locker was assault, attempted homicide, etc. Let's hit them as hard as we possibly can but stay within the rules of the legal system and PR manipulation.

[X] Revenge. Full stop. Stomach-churning unabashed violent revenge. Lock THEM in lockers and see how they like it. (Note you cannot choose this option with the Lawful Good orientation).

Last edited: Oct 31, 2017

80

BreezyWheeze

Jul 12, 2017

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Threadmarks Story Post 2: Your first ghost

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BreezyWheeze

Jul 14, 2017

#23

But it couldn't hurt to take another quick look at all those you's floating there. You direct your mind once again, and find one version of you particularly intriguing...

...she looks just like you. Just like you. It's kind of creepy. As you approach her, you feel a slight humming. A resonance. Almost like a taut string is connecting you to her. You pull slightly on the string and immediately fall backwards.

Well, not literally backwards. There's nowhere to fall to, since you've been lying in your hospital bed the entire time. But now, when you cast your eyes around the room, you see her standing there at the end of your bed. Her. You. Well, a ghostly copy of you. Her eyes snap wide open at the sight of you and she starts looking around quickly, clearly as confused as you are.

"Who are you?" you ask.

You see her mouth moving, but no sound comes out. You get the vague impression of her echoing your question back at you.

Before your conversation can go any further, you both hear voices in the hallway, approaching rapidly. Your panic hasn't even begun to fully set in when the door to the hospital room opens and a doctor comes striding purposefully into the room, surrounded by a gaggle of medical students.

"The next patient is an excellent example of a trauma-initiated coma in which..."

His words die on his lips as he sees you awake. "Oh! Well, wonderful, Miss Hebert. You're awake! Have the nurses..."

Once again he trails off, noticing the ghostly copy of you standing at the foot of the bed. She looks like she wants to run, to be anywhere other than here, but she's as frozen in panic as you are.

After the barest pause, the doctor continues in the same unflappable lecturing tone he'd adopted earlier: "Taylor, dear, are you in any danger right now? Is that ghost thing a danger to any of the hospital staff?"

It takes you a few moments to gather your thoughts. "Um, no? I don't think so?"

You look over to your apparition. She doesn't move, but she does make eye contact with you briefly and you clearly sense that she's thinking 'no, I'm not a danger to anyone here.'

You look back to the doctor, "No, she's definitely not a danger to anyone here."

The doctor seems appeased by your confident statement. He turns towards the door and calls a nurse over. The nurse, a very round and very wrinkled older woman, is even more collected upon seeing the ghost than the doctor was. What the hell? Are these people not shocked by anything?

"Nurse Markala, can you please give a call to the PRT non-emergency line and have them send over some folks to interview a new trigger?" The doctor didn't even ask you if you wanted to talk to the PRT, not that you object. You would've liked to talk to Dad first, though. "Now students, let's discuss a few salient points about how parahuman triggers relate to the standard of care in a hospital setting. Taylor, we'll be heading out into the hallway to chat while we wait for the PRT and your father to arrive."

"Wait!"

"Yes?"

"I'd like to hear what you have to say about parahumans to your students."

He pauses for a moment, shoots his eyes over to your apparition, and sees the determined looks on both of your faces. You see a tightness around his eyes as he nods and says, "very well. Certainly you deserve to know this as much as they do."

The doctor begins by saying a bunch of medical jargon about lobes of the brain and so on. You can't quite focus on him, since the discussion is way over your head, plus you're starting to get a sort of static from your ghost. It's this vague auditory presence, although it's more mental than anything actually coming in through your ears. You sense these ghostly pinpricks... little points of light or miniature constellations surrounding you.

With an effort of will, you try to ignore this information and focus on what the doctor is saying.

"...yes, that's correct Miss Netive, although that typical saying of 'the worst day ever' is understating it rather considerably. In those rare cases where medical professionals are able to do bloodwork on a parahuman shortly after the inciting incident, patients typically show levels of cortisol, epinephrine, and other stress hormones that could be nearly fatal. Cases like Miss Hebert's here are not that uncommon. Trigger events are so overwhelmingly traumatic that you often find newly-triggered parahumans falling into a coma-like state for days or even weeks. Now who can tell me the diagnostic methodology used to determine whether a patient is in a true coma or a coma-like state, and which conditions are part of the differential..."

Some of the students kept glancing at you, and many more kept shooting looks at your ghost. The ghost herself had calmed down considerably, but was still radiating a deep discomfort. You tried to reach out to her again, 'What's wrong? I'm the one they're talking about like I'm not here.'

To your shock, she actually responds with an intelligible thought, 'I spent months planning out my secret identity. Now I don't know where I am or what's going on, and as soon as I arrived here we got outed as capes. I don't know how you're not freaking out more. It feels like the calm you're feeling is going into me somehow. That and I think the bugs are getting more agitated, so maybe my emotions are going into them?'

'Bugs?'

She proceeds to explain her power, and how she used to be exactly where you were. 'But I was only out of it for a week or so, and it sounds like you've been in a coma for a few weeks.'

'Did you trigger from the locker, too? Emma and Sophia?'

She gives you a slow nod.

'I think maybe I can sense them. Your bugs.'

'That's not surprising. I think maybe I must've died or something. Or gotten sent to a parallel dimension and now I'm psychically linked to you. In my world they always said that true psychics were impossible, but we seem to be chatting just fine. So if we are psychically linked, then I'd assume you can sense my bugs. Hold on, let's try something.'

The doctor has wrapped up his mostly unhelpful lecture on parahumans and trigger events. You did learn that you got off lucky, all things considered. You could've been mutated into a horrible monstrosity, or given what happened to you, you could've died in that locker. Supposedly hospitals had lots and lots of protocols around parahumans and new triggers. Given how much misery and death happens in and around hospitals, it was apparently a fairly common place to trigger. You're not sure what it said about society that the most common place was, by far, the home.

Dad beat the PRT to the hospital. He must've already been on his way, because he comes storming into the room not moments after the doctor and med students left.

"Taylor! Taylor are you..." he stops short seeing the apparition. You were definitely going to have to come up with a better name for her than that.

"Honey...?" he looks questioningly at you.

"It's okay Dad, I'm fine. She's fine. Well, I'm not sure if she's fine, but I'm fine. And I'm a cape now. Well she's a cape and she's connected to me. And I'm thirsty. And stiff."

Dad seems like he was unsure whether he should be amused by your babbling, relieved that you were awake, angry at what had happened to you, worried about the ghost, or what. He settles on taking three long strides to the bed and wrapping you in a huge hug.

You feel a sudden pulse of sadness and loss from the ghost. Disentangling yourself from Dad, you turn to her. For Dad's benefit, you say out loud while thinking, "Are you okay?"

Dad turns to look at the ghost. You both watch as she shakes her head slightly and turns away, partially covering her eyes with one hand. Without pausing to ask you if it's safe or okay, Dad moves to her and tries to put his hand on her shoulder. It moves through her as if she weren't there. She doesn't react, but when he takes another step forward into her peripheral vision, she turns back to the two of you.

"Taylor?"

You think Dad was addressing you, but in response the ghost nods.

"Honey is this a parahuman... illusion? Or whatever it's cal..."

Before he can finish the sentence, the ghost shakes her head 'no' and finished wiping away a tear.

He settles on: "What's going on?"

"Just a sec Dad, let me talk to her for a minute. Can you, maybe, sit down?"

He complies. You can see how agitated he is, but he's keeping a lid on the million different questions he must have.

'What should I call you? What should Dad call you?'

'I don't know. I hadn't come up with a hero name yet, and he can't call us both Taylor. Maybe Anne?' she asks, using your (her?) middle name. You nod and tell Dad. "She says to just call her by our middle name."

"Anne?" he questions.

The ghost pauses for a moment, seeming to make the mental adjustment involved in responding to that as her 'new' name. She nods to Dad. "So Anne... who are you?"

You and Anne confer for awhile, sharing details about life leading up to the locker. It seems that you were basically the exact same person - down to the tiniest detail you can think of, your lives were the same. Dad is starting to get even more antsy, so you turn to him and open your mouth. "She's basically me," you get out, just as PRT agents come walking into the room.

Followed by two spandex-clad heroes.

Omigosh. Assault and Battery. Before you can even formulate another thought, everyone's attention is caught by Anne. Assault barks out a short laugh, "Well, I guess that answers the first few questions we would normally be asking."

Dad seems less than amused at a hero laughing at his hospitalized daughter. He demands to know if you've somehow committed a crime by being victimized, if they think they can get away with taking advantage of you in your vulnerable condition, why the hell they didn't call him before coming up here to interrogate his daughter who is a minor, a veritable torrent of questions. Rather than attempt to answer, they simply wait until he's run out of steam.

Battery approaches cautiously, holding her hands out in a placating motion. "Mr. Hebert, Miss Hebert, we're just here to check up on the situation. We want to make sure you're okay, Taylor," she says, turning to face you, "and to let you know that the Protectorate and PRT are here for you. Most people think it's our job to fight crime, but our actual mission is to help parahumans integrate successfully in society after they've gained powers.

"I apologize if my hu... idiot partner here came across as insensitive. We knew very little about the situation before being called in, and it looks like the two of you," she shoots a glance at the ghost, "or the three of you have a lot to discuss before talking with us. I'll leave my card here. Please understand Taylor, helping you is literally my job. Don't hesitate to reach out."

Dad's somewhat mollified, but still seems angry enough to push the heroes and PRT agents to beat a hasty retreat. He slumps back down in his chair. Somehow his angry, protective rant made Anne even more melancholy.

"Dad! You just yelled at the heroes!"

"They had no business barging in here like that before we've even had a second to figure out what's going on with you."

"But still! Heroes!"

The past year and a half of brutal bullying and social isolation may have made you shut down on a lot of levels, but not so much that seeing Assault and Battery coming to visit you personally wouldn't get you completely stoked. You feel a spike of bitterness from Anne.

'What?'

'Yeah it's literally their job to help you now that I've showed up, but where the hell were they when we were getting bullied almost to death? I mean I wanted to be a hero, too, but I can't help but feel like we only matter now that there's powers in the mix. Like there could be a dozen girls like us at schools all across the city and they wouldn't give two shits about them.'

That stops you cold for a moment. 'I mean, I guess you're not wrong.'

"Dad, one sec I want to finish talking to Anne."

Anne describes how she got home from the hospital and slowly came to understand her powers sensing and controlling bugs. She then tells you the most depressing thing you've ever heard - the bullies never got punished, and they didn't even stop. Nothing so bad as the locker, of course, but Anne's last memory is of going out on her first patrol after a particularly bad week of bullying one week in April. They doused her with soda in the bathroom, ruining her clothes, books, and art project. She had finished making a costume out of spider silk and decided to stop planning and just go out that weekend. Some time while out patrolling that night, she must've passed out or been killed or something, because her memories get fuzzy. Then she 'woke up' here.

You explain to Dad that she's a version of you who's sort of from the future but that you're obviously not totally sure what's going on. He asks more questions and you deflect, saying you'd rather talk about everything once you're out of the hospital.

Over the next two days you have to give a statement to the police about the event, and are subjected to a number of different medical tests before being released. During your downtime, you practice with Anne and learn that she can get about a block away before you both get extremely uncomfortable and she feels compelled to turn back. She brings a few bugs into the room and when actually looking directly at them you almost begin to feel like you can control them. It feels weirdly distant, though - like trying to tie your shoes with numb hands or something.

You're finally set to be released from the hospital. Although you basically feel back up to speed, they insist on wheeling you out. Anne asks if she can get a wheelchair too. You snort in amusement, but since she would just fall right through the chair, you don't ask for one.

The moment your chair rolls out of the doors, you feel a sudden jolt of energy and a warmth suffuses your body. The little numbers in the corner of your vision, which had just said 1/100 for the past two days, suddenly ticked upwards rapidly and stopped at 26/100. What the hell? Just another mystery now that you're a parahuman...

Arriving home, you listen in as Dad plays the answering machine messages. There are many from local news stations - apparently news about the locker incident got some attention from the local papers and news stations. There are messages from both the PRT and the Protectorate asking to speak with you in more detail. Finally, and most shockingly, a voicemail from Sarah Pelham, Lady Photon from New Wave.

It seems that over the past few days news about you being a parahuman has spread rapidly. Wasn't the PRT supposed to stop stuff like that?!? Since you're already outed, New Wave was offering to talk and even consider letting you apply to join the team. Holy crap!

It's all pretty overwhelming, and when you tell Dad you just want to turn in early and sleep on it, he's more than understanding.

The next morning, as you awake, you once again find yourself in that other space filled with you's. Instead of Anne standing right in front of you, you see a black silhouette where she used to be. Now, she's standing to your side inside a blue circle. There are a dozen or more similar circles off to the side, although they all seem to be grayed out other than the one Anne is standing in.

Looking over the rows of other Taylors in front of you, you see two of them look like they have a small spotlight over them. Another few are lit up very lightly, and the others are all in shadow. If you approach them, you can see them reasonably well, but only the two others with the spotlights create that feeling of resonance you had when you approached Anne.

Out of curiosity, you approach the sickly-looking version of yourself and pull on that connection. Suddenly Anne disappears from the blue circle and is replaced by the sickly girl. Anne has reappeared in the rows of all the other Taylors you can see. In a sudden panic, you quickly move to Anne and "activate" her again. Phew. Okay so while you're in this weird headspace, it looks like you can choose a copy of yourself to stand over in that blue ring on the side.

Time to make some decisions...

Choices:

Spoiler

Last edited: Oct 31, 2017

90

BreezyWheeze

Jul 14, 2017

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Threadmarks Story Post 3: Recruitment drive

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BreezyWheeze

Jul 17, 2017

#33

You choose to keep Anne in what you've started thinking of as the "active circle." Although you're dying to know what powers the other two Taylors have, the bug control is such a complicated and interesting power, you feel like it's going to take weeks or more to really get a handle on it. Even now, you feel like you've got a better sense of bugs than you had just yesterday. Or there's way more bugs in the house, or something.

You hear Dad banging around downstairs. Sounds like he took the day off work. Heading down, you see him flailing around in the kitchen. A moment's observation and you suspect that he's maybe, possibly trying to make pancakes, although so far he seems to've gotten more ingredients spattered on the counter than actually combined into something approximating actual food.

"Mornin' Dad."

"Hey squirt. I'm making your favorite!"

"Bisquick-crusted countertop?"

"Oh, ha ha. You think you can do better?"

"I know I can do better."

"Well then. Your old man stands relieved of duty. My watch has ended," he adds, handing you the spatula with a flourish.

As ever, Anne responds to the interactions between you and Dad with a complex mix of longing, sadness, and embarrassment. This time, though, you get a definite vibe of amusement from her. Progress!

You briskly begin fixing the mess he's made of things. "So I've been talking more with Anne and what I think is that my power is actually really complicated. Like how I interact with her and how she interacts with her bug swarm and how I interact with her bug…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Did you just say 'bug swarm'?"

You explain how Anne's power works. Dad seems pretty nonplussed. When you describe Anne as a cross between a walking Biblical plague and the most lucrative weaver in all of human history he goes from nonplussed to downright bemused. You wrap up your little spiel with, "…and I think there might even be other versions of me that I can summon from… somewhere. Anyway my power seems really really complicated and I'm thinking the best thing for me is to just… um… do homeschooling?"

You turn to him and try putting on puppy dog eyes for the first time in three years: "Please? Daddy? I just can't, I just can't go back to Winslow. Please don't make me go back there."

He initially seems shocked and sad but after you repeat the "just can't" part he gets a wry smile on his face. "Don't try to kid a kidder, kiddo. You're over-selling it. And I agree and was actually going to suggest the same thing."

The eggs and pancakes turn out well and the meal otherwise passes quickly in near-silence as you both devote yourself to a little food-therapy. Dad mentions in passing that he yelled at the two local journalists who were staking out the house and pulled some strings with cops he knows to enlist their help keeping the press away. It seems to be just another depressing fact of life in Brockton Bay that an assault as disgusting as the locker is only interesting for a day or two and even when that leads to a new parahuman trigger, just laying low for a bit encourages the vultures to move on to the next gruesome story.

Near the end of the meal you venture: "Oh and I especially don't want to go back to any school now that I've been outed as a cape. I didn't want to say anything right away but I've thought about it and slept on it, and I gotta say I'm actually really pissed. Assault and Battery were right there. And they had some PRT guys with them. They could've had the doctor and nurse and those students all sign papers and covered up my identity.

"Instead they just dropped a business card and left. Like what the hell was that? Now I bet there's all this blabber online about how 'The Locker Girl' got powers and stuff. I'm so angry at them. They won't take me seriously, though. Can you call them and yell at them for me?"

As you start talking, Dad looks like he's getting angrier and angrier. By the end, with your plaintive request for him to yell at the PRT, his face is absolutely thunderous. Well, you had no intention of joining up with them anyway, and he's sure to be overtly hostile to them. Maybe you can use their screw-up as leverage later.

You let Dad know that you and Anne are going for a walk down to the Boardwalk and back to gather up some useful bugs. It's a sign of how angry he is that he forgets to mention pepper spray or staying safe or anything. He just looks to Anne, mutters something about keeping an eye out, and heads towards the wall-mounted landline phone.

You and Anne take a slow, easy walk. She mentions in passing that while you were asleep last night, she was awake and able to be completely active.

That's new. And unbelievably helpful. Anne says that with just the black widows she was able to pull from a few blocks around, she's already got a bunch of breeding colonies set up in the basement.

'One thing I learned quickly before was that widows are really territorial and can even get cannibalistic. So while we're out of the house I have to give them a strong command to enter like a hibernation state…"

'Wait, there's black widows in the house right now?! With Dad?! We have to go back!' you're all but mentally shouting at her.

She smiles, 'Trust me, Taylor. I made it work before. It's totally safe.'

You don't feel very mollified, 'Well, how many have you got in the basement?'

'Only 251 when we left.'

'OVER TWO HUNDRED!!' so that's what all those bugs were you vaguely sensed when you woke up.

'Yeah when I was actively working on my costume the first time, I had over 3,000 all working at once.'

You can't help but shudder at the mental image of your entire basement literally crawling in spiders. Anne, that traitorous bitch, laughs at you.

As you get closer to the Boardwalk, you and Anne start getting more and more attention from people on the street. Anne suggests that she's got enough bugs now to lay the foundations needed to make good progress on the costume. She's keeping everything well out of sight, thankfully. You decide to turn back.

'It took me almost two months to get my costume done the first time around, but given what I learned doing that, and the fact that I don't have to sleep or go to school anymore, I'm betting we can get your costume done in a fraction of that time. A week? Maybe two?'

'Taylor, there are two cop cars in front of the house,' Anne warns you. 'Your dad is in there, talking with a couple of guys. Doesn't feel like an emergency.'

You're impressed. You and Anne are still about four blocks from home and she's already sensing who's in the house and sort of what's going on. You can't wait to develop that level of perception and control over the swarm yourself.

Turns out it's the detective from the hospital a couple of days back along with a guy who must be his partner.

"Mostly we just want to confirm the facts we've gotten from you, and give you an update on how things are going," the detective offers. "Can you just tell me again, who was it that actually pushed you into the locker?"

"Like I said before, Sophia shoved me in while Emma and Madison were watching."

"And you saw Sophia do this?"

"Yes," you lie.

He looks vaguely uncomfortable. "Okay, well Mr. Hebert, Taylor, I'm afraid that another agency has assumed jurisdiction over Miss Hess, so there's nothing we can do there. As for the other two girls…"

You and Dad speak over each other: "Wait, about Emma…" "What do you mean another agency?"

The detective replies to Dad first: "I'm sorry Mr. Hebert I'm really not at liberty to say. Even telling you that much is push the boundaries we at the BBPD operate under in cases like this." He emphasizes the words weirdly. A quick glance at Dad and Anne shows that he suspects something but that Anne is as confused as you are.

"And Miss Hebert, you were going to say something about Miss…" he looks down at his notepad, "Barnes?"

"Yeah. What Emma did was disgusting and awful beyond words, but… she was my best friend since I was like five years old. I have to believe she can still… I dunno. See the light or something," you pause at the lame choice of words. "I guess what I'm saying is, I'm not looking for her to go to jail or whatever."

You come very strongly to a decision, and feel the rightness of the words as a sense of your future heroism fills you: "Really what I'm saying is I don't want to press charges."

The detective gives you a condescending smile and you deflate almost immediately. "Miss Hebert, I'm afraid it doesn't work that way. You don't press charges, the State of New Jersey is the one pressing charges in a criminal matter. You can certainly decide to sue or not sue for money in civil court, but this is a criminal matter. You're the victim, not the prosecutor.

"I will say, though, that what you just said there was one of the most noble, selfless things I think I've ever seen in my twenty-three years on the force. After what was done to you – well, if it was my little niece in your shoes, several somebodies would've already found themselves waking up at the bottom of the Bay."

What the FUCK?! Did he just suggest he'd murder people in revenge?

Brockton Bay, ladies and gentlemen. Even the cops are murders.

Anne seems much less bothered than you, but those additional three months of bullying after the locker changed her. While you can certainly understand where her head is at, you're so grateful that you didn't have to put up with that yourself.

Even worse, when take a quick glance over at Dad, the look on his face suggests he almost agrees with the guy. God.

"But I'll pass your sentiments on to the prosecutor once we bring them the results of the investigation. Any thoughts on the other one?"

Funny that the cop can't even remember Madison's name. Guess she really is a bit player in all of this.

He smiles, "Okay I think I get the picture."

"Oh crap did I just say that out loud?"

You drop your face into your hands. First day home and out of Winslow forever and you're already embarrassing the hell out of yourself. Lovely.

After the cop leaves you do one of the most nerve-wracking things you've ever done in your life: call the home phone number of Lady Photon. You pace back and forth, twirling the cord around your finger as the phone rings. You get more and more nervous with each chime. After the sixth or seventh ring, your heart is fluttering almost uncontrollably in your...

...oh.

Voicemail.

Quick, sound professional! "Um hi, Photon Mom… oh shoot I mean Lady Photon. This is Taylor Hebert. I'm returning your call from earlier. I would very much like to talk with you or New Wave or… yeah. So anyway, I can do basically any time when my Dad is home from work, so like on an evening or any weekend day or whatever, just tell me what day and what time and…" BEEP. The machine cuts you off.

Great.

You and Anne go for another short bug-gathering walk, staying within Anne's range of the house so she can continue organizing the spiders while adding more to the swarm. At one point the counter suddenly ticks up from 26/100 to 41/100.

'Whoa. Anne, did you just do something? What just happened right that second?'

'Nothing? I don't know. I'm still just gathering widows.'

'How many do you have in the swarm right now?'

'One thousand and seven.'

'Ah, so you just hit exactly 1,000 black widows just a second ago?'

'Yeah, why?'

'I just got 15 more points on that little thing that's counting up to one hundred.'

You fall back into an easy silence and wrap up your patrol. Upon your return, you find that Dad has gone out to run some errands, and someone has left a large brown paper wrapped package on the front stoop. Huh. The top of the package is simply labeled "Taylor Hebert." No address. No return address. No stamps or postmark. Ominous.

You bring the package in, set it on the coffee table and pause for a moment before just going ahead and opening it. Inside you find a tube of pepper spray, what looks like a stun gun, a cell phone, and some papers… what the hell? There's a map of the city that's been color-coded and labeled with E88, ABB, and Coil's Mercenaries territories, along with notes about where the Undersiders are often seen, Faultline's club, and other bits of parahuman-related information.

As you shake open the map, a piece of paper falls out. It's about half the size of a normal sheet of paper. It looks and feels like some sort of heavy parchment-style paper. The note is handwritten with flawless penmanship.

"Miss Hebert,

We would like to welcome you to the world of Brockton Bay's parahumans. Enclosed in this care package are a number of items you may find useful, along with some basic information about the society you've just joined.

As you have seen firsthand, the authorities lack the will or even the basic competence to protect you. In the near future, you may find yourself looking for the guidance, security, and other benefits that can only be provided by a group of individuals like yourself.

Much like your father does every day with his union work, we seek only the best for the good, hardworking people of Brockton Bay. Should you wish to talk in more detail about coming to an arrangement or joining our group, simply leave a voice or text message on the number stored in the phone.

Warmest Regards,

Your friends in the Empire Eighty-Eight"

51/100.

A chill ran over you. 'Anne, what if that counter is like counting up towards my death or something? I just got an invite to join the Nazis and it ticked up by ten points.'

'Well, then, I guess I'd better work overtime on your costume.'

The next few days pass in a blur, with you having to work double-time to get caught up on homework related to your homeschooling – no shock that Winslow was hilariously behind the New Jersey state minimums for a high school sophomore. Anne is working triple-time on the costume, balancing breeding new spiders with having them work to spin and weave the silk. You feel an odd mix of boredom and stress coming from her near-constantly.

'Really, don't worry about it. I'm already dead, I think, and you're my only link to life in this weird parallel dimension. So protecting you is my primary job now. It's just that the work is easy so it's boring but it's stressful to focus on it 24/7 and worry about more villains coming after you.'

As the hours pass, you find yourself talking less and less with Anne. Since you're basically the same person, it's started to feel more and more like just talking to yourself, which is kinda weird.

In the middle of a particularly thorny geometry problem, you hear the doorbell ring. Anne comes running up the basement stairs, phasing right through the door (which is another mystery you've not yet solved – she can't float around like a normal ghost and can't just magically go through floors or ceilings, but can seem to pass through walls, doors, and other obstacles without issue).

'God, sorry sorry I was so wrapped up on the costume work that I wasn't paying attention to watching the house!'

'That's okay,' you start moving towards the kitchen at the back of the house, away from the front door. 'Who's out there?'

'It feels like a girl – long hair, slim build. Either a teenager or maybe a younger adult. I don't see anyone else out of place. If she's armed I can't find it.'

The doorbell rings again. You laugh to yourself. Someone selling girl scout cookies or something and you're ready to go running across your back yard. You open the door to see a blonde girl, probably about your age. She's dressed much like you are – loose jeans and a grey hoodie, and wearing glasses with almost the exact same black frames as yours.

"Hi!" she chirps.

"Um… hello? Can I help you?"

"Yup! My name's Lisa. I'm sort of a representative from a group that wanted to chat with you."

You feel your stomach flop. "Oh. Are you the ones that sent the… uh… care package?"

She pauses for the barest fraction. "No, no, no, absolutely not. We're not like them."

You feel a wave of relief.

She continues: "Anyway, can we chat for a few minutes? Maybe inside? I have to apologize," she lets out a little forced, awkward laugh, "but I didn't bring a care package."

Her entire demeanor suggests that she kind of feels as awkward as you do about this, which puts you at ease. "Sure, c'mon in."

You remember to offer her tea or coffee after you both sit in the living room. She declines and continues, "Thanks, but I'd just like to explain the message I'm supposed to deliver and then I've got to head out.

"So I'm assuming the care package was from the Empire 88?"

"What makes you say that?" you ask, again feeling wary.

Anne chooses that moment to emerge from the kitchen. The girl stares right at her, eyes going wide. Her mouth opens slightly and stares long enough to make things really uncomfortable.

"Oh, god. God, I'm so sorry. It's just… well I've seen a lot of weird crap since I started working for the Undersiders, but I've never seen a ghost before," she explains, her eyes darting back and forth between you and Anne.

Crap. The Undersiders. The explanation included in the Empire's care package described them as cowards and thieves. You didn't take their word for it, of course, but the internet confirmed that they were a really low-profile villain group. You're torn – on the one hand, you have no intention of joining a villain group. You're going to be a hero, dammit. But at the same time, you can't afford to piss anyone off right now. You decide, for the moment, to just hear what their awkward teenage envoy has to say.

"She's not a ghost. Her name is Anne."

"You named your projection? Does it have its own personality?"

Her eyes go wide once again at the expression on Anne's face. "Jesus, sorry, god. Anne, yes of course. You're your own person. I'm so sorry. It's just normally, parahumans who have some sort of other… entity… outside themselves it's just a mindless puppet. It's called a projection and…" she trails off.

"Just think of her as my mute twin sister, okay?"

Lisa nods tentatively. "Sorry I'm totally screwing this up."

And now you're back to feeling at ease and kind of amused instead of wary talking to a representative sent by a villain group. They must all be really bad at talking to people if they're using a girl who's just as awkward as you are as their messenger.

"So you said you're a representative for the Undersiders?"

"Yeah!" she suddenly perks up as she gets back on message. "They're a villain group, as I'm sure you've been told, but they're not a gang. Well, not a gang like the Nazi's or the ABB. They do things like heists from other gangs, or corporate espionage and stuff. They don't fight, they've never killed anyone, and whenever the white hats or other villain groups show up, they leave. Better to avoid fighting than risk getting hurt or civilians getting hurt as collateral damage.

"They've villains, of course. After all, just taking stuff, even from other gangs, isn't exactly legal, but they're almost more like Faultline's mercenary group. They don't extort business or run guns like E88 and they certainty don't run rings of sex slaves like the ABB or deal life-destroying drugs like the Merchants."

"Sex slaves?!"

"Yeah, seriously. I said the same thing when I found out. They use words like 'human trafficking' but what would you call it when someone is kidnapped and forced to work as a prostitute without actually getting any money or being allowed to leave? Sounds like slavery to me."

"How can that even happen here?!" You're completely incredulous.

"Wanna hear the worst part? The good guys know about it. Cops, Protectorate, PRT. They all know the ABB does that crap but they're too scared of upsetting the status quo to use the firepower it would take to bring down Lung."

Your opinion of the Protectorate was already at rock bottom, but now it was tunneling down towards Earth's molten, chewy center.

"Sorry, we're getting off topic. Anyway what I wanted to tell you was that the Undersiders are always looking for members who share their outlook. And based on your reaction to the evil crap that the Protectorate puts up with, I'm betting you'd fit in well there.

"Buuut, I can already see from the look on your face that you're not interested in joining a villain group. So I guess the other message I had was they wanted to extend a sort of olive branch. A non-aggression arrangement based on whatever you end up doing. They won't fight you if you go the hero route, and if they encounter you or… Anne… they'll just leave, as long as you're also hands-off with them."

66/100. Fuck.

You thank Lisa for the visit and offering you the message. "I'll have to think about it. Do you have a way to get in touch?"

She smiles and hands you a phone. "Let me guess, there's exactly one number loaded in it already and…"

"Just text it," she interrupts. "Who even leaves voicemails anymore?"

You can't help but smile. Guess the Undersiders are a little less old-fashioned than the E88.

The next day is your visit with New Wave. Anne's got your mask and the top half of your costume finished. You get a pair of ski goggles at her direction and glue in the lenses from your previous pair of glasses.

Dad drives you to the address, which you find is actually an office building. Huh. You were expecting their house – isn't New Wave basically a family team? Dad walks you up to the suite number you were given and offers to wait in the car.

"Um, okay, thanks Dad. I'm not sure if this is supposed to be a 'cape only' thing or not. I'll have Anne come down and get you if they ask."

Dad heads off. You and Anne give each other a long look. With a deep breath, you push the door open and find yourself in… an office. Well, the waiting area for an office, anyway. It's really small, with a plan wooden desk sporting little more than a landline phone and an ancient CRT monitor. Huh. There's a short hallway with only four doors, one of which is open.

'Not enough bugs to really map the place out in advance, sorry,' Anne tells you.

"Hello?" you try.

"Ah, that must be Taylor," you hear a voice say. A woman in a plain grey slacks and white blouse comes bustling out of the office door. She stops dead when she sees your yellow lenses and grey bodysuit (well, top half of a bodysuit, anyway). The tension in her posture relaxes immediately when she sees Anne, however. The weirdness just keeps piling up – she's the first person to seem more at ease when seeing Anne.

"Miss Hebert?" she asks.

"Yeah, and this is Anne," you gesture to her. "Sorry I wasn't sure if I was supposed to come in costume or what, Mrs. Pelham." New Wave are all local celebrities with a little bit of national profile, so of course you recognize her right away.

"It's certainly fine, I just wasn't expecting you in costume. That and the color scheme is a little… uninviting."

"Oh yeah sorry," you walk forward to shake her offered hand. "I haven't dyed it yet. In fact, I just finished making this top piece last night."

At a mental 'harrumph' you amend that to, "or rather Anne just finished it last night."

She escorts you into the office, where you see a cute teenage boy with blue hair leaning back in a chair. As Anne steps into view, he startles, suddenly leaning back to far. He pinwheels his arms slightly and starts falling.

And then promptly starts floating before hitting the ground. Convenient.

"This is Eric. Eric, Taylor and Anne."

"Hey, hi Taylor," he shakes your hand. "And Anne."

As he holds his hand out, she shrugs and holds her fist out for a bump. He does a mostly good job of covering his reaction as his fist goes right through hers.

Over the next half hour, you all discuss the cape scene in Brockton and what it's like to operate as a cape without a secret identity. You catch Anne constantly sneaking looks at Shielder. He's well built and easy on the eyes, to be sure, but to avoid blushing constantly you keep your focus on Lady Photon.

They mention the possibility of doing an affiliation with them, or eventually joining up, and Lady Photon is very interested in the sample of spider silk cloth you brought.

"Many of us have shields, but certainly something to protect Amy would be a good idea, and although her weapons are powerful, my sister herself isn't especially durable. Taylor, Anne," she nods, "I think it's safe to say that we'd be very interested in being some of your first customers.

"You can see from our office, however, that donations and small PRT payouts don't exactly have us rolling in dough. If what you're describing is true, you can probably sell custom-made costumes for many tens of thousands of dollars each…"

You miss the rest of what she's saying as your heart practically stops in your chest. Holy shit. Tens of thousands of dollars for one costume?!

She trails off and smiles. "Not used to making that much money, I take it? Not many fifteen year olds would be.

"As I was saying, if you were looking to offer a hero discount, we'd be very interested in outfitting the whole team in light, breathable and bulletproof costumes like that."

She takes your description of the oddity of your power in stride. You guess that when you've been doing things as long as she has, you learn to just roll with all sorts of weirdness. She discusses possibly doing a joint patrol or other appearance, and urges you to go to the PRT to register as an independent hero, even if she agrees that joining the government itself isn't the best choice.

You end the meeting cordially, saying you'll be in touch after you've talked things over with Dad.

Dad seems kind of overwhelmed by everything that's happened for the past two days. "Well, kiddo, normally I'd say we should be down at the PRT building right now, getting you signed up with them. This all seems so dangerous, and now the gangs know where we live, and I just don't know. I don't know how to keep you safe in all this insanity." His voice cracks slightly.

"But I think I might've burned some bridges there," he says ruefully.

"Oh no. Dad. What did you do?"

"I might've made my opinion known in a very forceful way. Loud. Loud and forceful. And told them they could expect to hear from my lawyer."

"We have a lawyer?"

"No, but they don't know that. It seems to me that we need to talk with the New Wave folks some more. You need backup to stay safe, Taylor, especially now that everyone knows who you…"

Your Dad is cut off by Anne bursting into the room.

'Someone's coming. It almost feels like a tank or something and four other vehicles. They're only a…'

Anne gets cut off when you hear an enormous BOOM from down the street. The windows shudder and you're almost knocked over.

'Quick, tell Dad to head out the back, I'm handling them.'

"Dad, Anne says it's someone in a frigging tank. She'll handle them but we need to head out the back."

'Just head a few houses over and hunker down in the bushes. They'll never find you and I can't be…'

Once again Anne is interrupted as a huge explosion detonates at the front of the house. You and Dad are knocked to the ground. The wind and debris pass straight through Anne. A glance to your left shows a giant hole in the front wall of your house, and a crater where your little slip of a front yard used to be.

'GO!!!'

You hear the beginnings of screams coming from the street and a darkening cloud. You can feel more insects than ever before.

Your breath catches in your throat at the beauty of it. Anne's mind is… amazing. She's controlling thousands… tens of thousands… a hundred thousand, in a symphony of bloodless rage. A ballet of chitin and stingers and biting and death as the swarms descend, blocking eyes and ears and shoving themselves down open, screaming throats. The seething ocean of data washes over your mind. It overwhelms you. You can feel the outline of 14 different people, cars and something that looks for all the world like a goddamn tank.

You can barely take it all in, and Anne isn't even breaking a sweat. You see through her eyes, watching as she strides noiselessly out the hole in the front of the house.

CRACK! CRACK! BOOM! Gunshots fire wildly and the tank's main cannon fires straight at Anne, but she ghosts forward.

Inexorable.

You regain your sense slightly and find that Dad is dragging you across your neighbor's back yard.

"Wait, Dad, STOP!!" you hiss as forcefully as you can. "Anne can't get too far from me and she needs to be able to move around up there." You struggle to your feet and point limply towards the neighbors' shed.

The symphony takes you once again. Pulses and pulses of light. An entire solar system of tiny nervous systems, a galaxy of chaos upon hundreds of thousands of sets of wings, a universe of absolute control with Anne at its center. You can barely see a whirlwind off to one side. It must be a parahuman, since it's got the force of a tornado but is not much more than ten feet across. The insects are swept away, a vortex of blackness in an otherwise omniscient view of the street out front. A single pinprick of awareness manages to get in through the top of the tunnel.

A wasp.

It finds its way into an ear. A jolt and the whirlwind falters, slows. It doesn't stop entirely, but the swarm needs no more invitation than that. Thousands and thousands of pinpoint, perfectly controlled bundles of mindless fury engulf her form, and she drops.

You feel a rush of warmth and your numbers rapidly scroll upwards, shooting past 100. As they move past 100, you feel an electric tingle over your body. The 100 ticks upwards to 300. A moment later, the numbers settle at 250/300.

While your attention may have wandered for a moment, Anne's didn't. The tank, shoddy monstrosity that it is, may as well be a convertible for all the protection it affords from the swarm. Cracks and crevices aplenty provide the room needed to penetrate its bulk.

The flat crack-pop of gunfire rapidly comes to a close until all you hear are screams and sobs and choking. The furious victory emanating from Anne fades and you get a spike of panic from her.

'Anne?' you ask, your heart hammering.

'Taylor, I think I may have accidentally killed some of them.'

Oh shit.

'Stay where you are, I hear sirens. I'll let you know once the cops get here.

What do you want me to do with the parahumans? I can feel a man and a woman inside the tank and I'm sure the guy is Skidmark since I felt his weird forcefield thing. The driver has to be the tinker that built it, and the whirlwind lady is on the ground coughing and gasping for breath. It'd very easy to sting them on the head until they can't breathe, or I can try and clear the bugs out so they don't die.'

Oh.

Shit.

Spoiler

Last edited: Oct 31, 2017

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BreezyWheeze

Jul 17, 2017

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BreezyWheeze

Jul 22, 2017

#48

'Okay I got their airways clear so I think they'll make it, but a few of the unpowered guys sound like they're not breathing,'

'I'm coming up there, I can do CPR or something,' you reply.

The sound of sirens continues to get louder.

'Wait, Skidmark is still moving around a bit… oh, nevermind. The good guys just got here.'

You pull Dad's arm off where he'd had it wrapped tightly around your mid-section. "Anne disabled the bad guys Dad and the cops are here. We need to go out and talk to them."

"Are you sure it's safe?" he asks as he levers himself to his feet.

"Yeah," you say, injecting certainty where you don't actually feel it.

You make your way out of the neighbor's shed and to the front of his house, where you get a good look at things. It's a war zone. The actual damage to your house isn't as bad as you would've thought. There's a ragged hole a dozen or so feet in diameter giving a view into your living room, where the furniture is surprisingly intact. The front lawn, sidewalk, and section of the street didn't fare nearly so well. An uneven crater several yards across is carved into the ground, lined with chunks of dirt and asphalt.

Anne has started dispersing the swarm, but the sheer volume of insects is still startling. It looks like something out of a nature documentary showing the height of bug breeding season somewhere tropical. You had no idea there were this many insects even alive in Spring in Brockton Bay.

There are thick mounds of writing insects scattered across the street, and you can see Anne slowly pull the bugs back revealing downed people. You hear off to the side the steady patter of water – looks like one of the cars rammed into a fire hydrant when the driver was attacked by insects. Several police cruisers have stopped half a block up the street, with the officers advancing slowly.

A figure abruptly appears next to one of the downed people. The red costume and quick arrival tell you that it's the Protectorate speedster, Velocity. He checks the person over, obviously making sure they're still alive. He practically teleports over to the nearest cop, requests and receives a pair of handcuffs and then jogs back to the downed figure, cuffing them.

'That was the one making the whirlwind,' Anne informs you.

You holler to get Velocity's attention. "Hey! The two other capes are in that giant tank thing!"

He nods and you can see him moving his lips but not looking like he's saying anything out loud. Or very loud. Whatever. He's obviously talking into a communicator of some sort. He gives the tiniest of nods, almost like an unconscious response to his conversation, and walks over to where you, Anne, and Dad are huddled together.

"Armsmaster will be here to deal with the tank and the rest of this in," his sentence is interrupted by the growl of a motorcycle approaching rapidly, "very short order.

"Are you all okay?"

You can see in the background that the arrival of two Protectorate heroes has set the cops at ease and allowed them to do their job – keeping civilians away from the site of a cape battle, and beginning to round up all the regular gang members.

"Yes," you reply, just as your Dad starts shouting, "This is YOUR FAULT!"

Velocity is taken aback by the fire in Dad's voice. He takes a half-step backwards, holding his hands in a placating gesture. "Sir, I'm sorry this happened, but I'm afraid I haven't been briefed on…"

"You don't even know?!" he barks out, his voice taking on an edge of the hysterical. "You morons outed my daughter, and the fucking Merchants find where we live, and I chew out you PRT idiots this morning and they didn't even warn the heroes? 'Oh hey guys, we completely fucked up and outed a girl as a new cape, we'd better be even aware of the basic situation?!'"

"Sir, I am sorry, I truly am. The most important thing right now is that you're all okay…"

"No, goddammit, no! The most important thing is that my fifteen-year old daughter had to single-handedly take down an entire crew of supervillains at our home because you absolute morons can't be trusted to…"

Dad was interrupted by a thundering CRACK off to the side.

Oh.

Glory girl.

She rose slowly from her totally-just-for-show three point landing. If this had been even two days ago, you would've felt your heart hammering in your chest at the encounter with the famous teen bombshell. Having already talked with her aunt and her gorgeous cousin at length, you're able to contain yourself.

"Oh hey, Glory girl! I was just talking to your aunt and cousin yesterday," you make a point of turning away from Velocity, treating his presence as irrelevant. Your Dad picks up on the move and you can just catch a look through Anne's eyes that he's amused. He follows suit, and steps towards you.

"Thank God New Wave is here," he mutters loudly.

"Holy shit, Taylor, what happened?! Do you need Amy? Is that your house!?!" she seems to notice the hole into the living room just then.

"The Merchants showed up and Anne put them down. No. It was."

There's a long pause where you can practically hear the gears in Vicky's head turning as she catches up.

"Wait, wait, wait… did you just say your projection single-handedly took down all of the Merchants?"

"All of the ones here, yeah. And she's not a projection, her name is Anne, she's a person."

By now Anne's completely dispersed the swarm. The only indications that insects had anything to do with the encounter is the thousands of dead bugs strewn everywhere.

A thought occurs to you. "Hey, Glory girl do you have a cellphone on you that I can borrow?"

She quickly pulls a little flip-phone from a pouch… somewhere… on her costume and hands it over. You turn to Dad, "Hey so we need to call like a motel or something, yeah?" you offer the phone to him.

It's a measure of how much he's still shell-shocked by the rapid pace of events that he grabs the phone without hesitation and starts dialing. You turn back to chat with Glory Girl, actually introducing yourself this time as you hear him chatting behind you, "Hey Lacey… yeah that ruckus is us… no, no we're fine… it's unbelievably crazy, I mean you wouldn't believe what's going on here… no we really are fine, Glory Girl just offered to have Panacea check us over but we really are okay… oh I know, I know… yes thank you so much, I know I didn't have to ask but I still had to ask, you know?... I'm not sure but… yeah okay, okay… thank you so much, hun, and tell Kurt if we get there before he's back from the bar that I'll… yeah exactly… okay see you later."

You find yourself explaining how you could make a spider silk bodysuit for Amy that would be bulletproof without requiring her to change her current robes or costume when Armsmaster comes tromping over. "Glory Girl, we need Panacea here immediately. Several people here are on the edge of dying from anaphylactic shock. Can you bring her…"

He doesn't even finish the question before she's rocketing off.

Three hours later and you're still sitting in a PRT interview room. (275/300 the moment you sat down in the interrogation room) Dad is to your left and the Union's lawyer is sitting to his left. Anne is cross-legged on the floor behind you. She'd offered to go running through the building's walls to scope everything out and freak some people out. As funny as you'd thought that was, you'd turned her down. It's weird – while you've basically calmed down after the fight, she is still apparently really keyed up. You can feel a sort of tense, humming excitement coming from your link to her.

The PRT guys had tried to separate you and Dad, but another explosion of his temper and they'd immediately backed off and said they'd put in a room together so you could wait until your lawyer showed up. They hadn't even been in to offer water or directions to a bathroom or anything.

The door swings open and a very tired-looking man in a rumpled grey suit brings in a cafeteria tray with plastic cups and a jug of water. He wordlessly places the tray on the table and leaves. Not a moment later, the door opens again with Armsmaster and a squat blond woman coming into the room. The woman seats herself while Armsmaster takes up a stiff standing position in the corner of the room behind her.

"I'm PRT Director Emily Piggot," she begins, "and I'd like to start by offering our deepest apologies for the various… miscommunications and misunderstandings of the past week. It seems there was a technical foul-up with our internal email and alert systems, meaning key individuals did not get the information they needed to act in a timely fashion."

You sense the faintest quiver from Dad, but before you can react, Mr. Carruthers, the Union lawyer, places his hand on Dad's forearm. Two decades of working with the Union, over half of that working directly with Dad, and it seems like he's gotten very good at reading Dad's temper.

The lawyer looks Piggot straight in the eye and simply says, "And…?"

She bristles slightly, but continues, "And the PRT would like to offer a protective detail until the remaining parahuman threat from the Merchants has been dealt with and a settlement to the Heberts to compensate them for the damage to their home and the disruption they've experienced. We would also like to ask that Miss Hebert register as an independent hero while here."

You just can't help yourself: "Maybe after today's events I'd prefer not to give any information to you at all. Maybe I'd prefer to just be a rogue. Maybe I should become a villain because at least the goddamn Nazi's were able to offer us protection before I was attacked in my home instead of after."

Silence.

Everyone's staring at you.

You can just feel Anne grinning enormously behind you. What's gotten in to her?

Armsmaster bulls his way through the tense silence, "Miss Hebert have you joined the Empire Eighty-Eight?"

Silence.

Dad barks out a laugh and you can't help but join him. After all the stress of the past few days, the heart-pounding violence of the evening, and the tension of sitting in this room for the past few hours and this is where your life has ended up: sitting in a room with one of the most famous heroes in America asking you if you've joined a gang of Nazis.

The laughter trickles to a stop. You wipe amusement's tears from your eyes and look straight at his helmet visor thingy. "No. No I haven't joined the Nazis for chrissakes. And fine, I'll fill out the hero registration forms."

His posture eases slightly, but it's so subtle you only notice because Anne has placed gnats on his shoulders, elbows, and knees. Visually, you can't see the shift.

As the room relaxes slightly, you're able to spend a bit of your attention on what Anne's been doing with the bugs. There are more than you'd expect in a futuristic building like this, but still not enough to get the kind of near-omniscience you had during the Merchants fight.

She's been systematically moving flies through rooms, cockroaches through walls, and placing gnats, mosquitoes and other tiny bugs in people's hair. You don't have the same strong, direct link to the swarm that you had during the fight, but it's breathtaking nonetheless. Against the Merchants, she was a tsunami. A hurricane of insectile fury. Very much the Biblical plague that insect-powers would promise. Here, she was a surgeon. Each insect a precisely controlled scalpel, cutting out information about the environment and feeding it to both of you. If you spent a full day sitting here, just from this one interrogation room you'd end up with every single piece of the building perfectly mapped.

"…Miss Hebert?"

Your musings on Anne's work are interrupted. Can't keep zoning out like that!

"I'm sorry, I'm just super-tired from everything that's happened. Can you repeat the question?"

"I just asked you to explain what happened, in your own words."

You look over at Mr. Carruthers. He smiles a bit, probably glad that you had the instinct to look to him first, and simply waves a little circle with his hand in a 'go on' motion.

You recount the evening's events to the best of your memory. Both Piggot and Armsmaster fail to contain their surprise when you tell them that Anne has her own powers to sense and control bugs. As you wrap up your description, Armsmaster chimes in, "We've gotten the preliminary reports. Skidmark, Squealer, and Whirlygig have all been taken into custody alive. It is only Panacea's intervention that saved Skidmark and Squealer's lives, although Squealer is in a coma. Her oxygen was restricted long enough that she is unlikely to ever awaken."

Before you can even process the fact that you just put a woman in a permanent coma, he continues, "Of the nine gang members present, three were dead on-scene, four more died en route to the hospital, and Panacea was able to save two. Reports indicate that at least one and perhaps as many as five fled the scene. It is unknown whether they expired from their wounds."

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck. You just killed seven people.

That's apparently enough to knock Anne out of the fiercely giddy mood she's been in since the fight. You feel shock and horror from her.

Director Piggot responds to that information, "Miss Hebert. Taylor, dear. I'm so very sorry it came to this. Loss of life, even of these gang members, is always a tragedy. I will recommend several people you can talk to and do strongly recommend you do so. Everyone here at the Protectorate and Wards routinely speak with a professional about the difficulties and consequences of their jobs.

She turns to the attorney, "And of course using lethal force in self-defense or defense of others is more than justified in response to a parahuman attack on your home. The official conclusion will have to await the end of the investigation, but Mr. Carruthers I want to assure you the PRT will not be pursuing any charges related to these deaths."

You're only half paying attention. Your mind is spinning inwards, consumed by the enormity of Anne's (and your) actions. You've been a parahuman for less than a week and you've already murdered. Seven times. Your breath starts coming fast and ragged. Seven people. People. Seven of them. Every single one could've… they maybe could've given up their gang life. They could've gone on to… and now… and now they're dead. Dead. You feel your chest expanding and expelling air in huge, gasping breaths. You're dizzy. The insects are…

"… hey… squirt…" your Dad's voice is tinny, distant. The world loses color. Your vision shrinks to a point on the table. You can see your hands clasped in front of you. Clenched. Bloodless white. You…

Yet again you awaken to the sound of a heart monitor beeping. This is becoming a bad habit. Anne is seated primly in a chair to the side of the bed. Dad is dozing in the corner of the room. As with the last time you woke up in a hospital bed, you feel the pull of your power. You focus on the 275/300 in the corner of your vision and return to what you find yourself thinking of as 'Taylor Selection.'

You see Anne to the left in her active circle, and the usual array of bright and shadowed Taylors in front of you. This time there's a sort of tense, crackling energy in your hands. You don't actually see anything when you look at them, but you can feel it. You wave your hands in front of you. There's a tiny humming resonance when you hold your hands in front of your own chest. You pull away before doing anything with that feeling.

You wander over to Anne and feel the same thing when you bring your hands towards her chest.

Seeing her here is actually kind of unsettling. You've gotten used to seeing her active and animated, but ghostly. Here, she's like a mannequin. Completely still. But also completely solid. Like an exact copy of you except put on pause.

Whoa, wait. Wait, not an exact copy any more. She's now wearing the top half of your costume. When did that happen?

You continue walking, passing one of the greyed-out active circles. The slight humming feeling returns. You head over to the rows of Taylors and don't feel anything there.

Okay, so the choice seems to be to push this energy into your own chest, into Anne, and or into that second active circle. You decide to go with that last one. Having two ghosts around has got to be incredibly valuable, and you've really been itching to learn about the powers and personality of the other Taylors. You head over to the circle and push on that feeling of resonance. The feeling fades immediately and the circle goes from grey to a gently shining blue just like the one under Anne's feet.

You head over to the rows of Taylors and stop in front of the mime-looking one. She's you, obviously, and has your face, your build, and your hair. But she's wearing a beret and a black and white striped mime's shirt. You feel the tug between you and her, and you pull on it. A moment later, the figure turns into a black silhouette and appears in the second active circle.

You pull back away from Taylor Selection and feel yourself back in the hospital bed. The new ghost has appeared at the foot of the bed, shock written all over her face.

'Hi there,' you offer.

'What the hell? Where am I? Who are you? Why do you look like me? How come you can hear me? How come I can talk now?' her head turns around wildly as she assaults you with questions. She notices Anne, 'Oh my god who is that? How come there are two of you? What the hell?!'

'It's okay,' Anne says. 'I freaked out too when I got here.'

'Did Lung kill me? I saw him go down and I heard Armsmaster coming and…' she's looking down at herself, noticing her ghostly appearance. 'What the hell! Holy crap am I a ghost now? Am I dead? Lung killed me, didn't he?'

'Lung?!' you reply. 'You fought Lung?! What the hell!' You find yourself copying her exclamation.

'Guys, guys c'mon calm down,' Anne interjects. You can feel the swarm moving around, each bug a little jerky bundle of agitation. You're not sure exactly what's happening, but you feel yourself calm down, and mime-Taylor's posture slowly relaxes as well.

Huh.

'First things first,' Anne continues. 'That's Taylor, my name is Taylor Anne, but call me Anne. What's your name?'

She looks to both of you with narrowed eyes, as the use of names were some sort of plot to trick her out of her secret identity. 'How do I know that's true? How do I know I'm not stuck in some sort of mind-screwing power right now?'

You let out a weary sigh. 'Anne, how come you weren't this suspicious when I summoned you?'

'I was also in the middle of a Lung fight and he'd just jumped up the height of entire building and blasted fire straight at my face. When I came here, I was pretty sure it was because I'd died on that roof. Not much room to be suspicious when you're pretty sure you're a ghost.'

That got the mime's attention. 'You fought Lung too?'

'Jeez, what it is with Taylors from other dimensions and a need to fight the strongest parahuman in the city on the first night out?' you muse.

They both give you a flat look.

Over the next few minutes the three of you chat, exchanging the basics of your stories. Like both you and Anne, the mime triggered in the locker. And like Anne, she had to go back to school and was still getting bullied even after the event. The only real difference you can tell between Anne and the mime's stories is that the mime spent much longer in the locker and ended up with a throat infection that rendered her mute.

Well, that and her powers. She explains that she's got a sort of area of effect telekinesis, but to shape the power she has to act out the idea that's in her head. She decided to go with a mime outfit since it felt like she had to mime the actions to get the telekinesis to work.

'Well, we can't keep calling you "mime" or "mime-girl" and both Taylor and Anne are already taken. So what should we call you?'

She seems uneasy at the idea of her name already being "taken" by someone else.

'I don't know. I had planned on using "Marceau" as my cape name, after those movies that Mom...'

You and Anne smile simultaneously. 'Mom would…' 'Mom would…' you both start.

A mix of amusement and sadness fills the room.

'Yeah. Mom would.' Marceau nods.

Your quiet laughter was enough to get Dad to slowly wake up. He rubs his eyes and looks over at you. Seeing Marceau, his eyes widen slightly. He rubs his eyes again and looks over the three of you. You feel tension from Marceau. 'It's okay,' you tell her. 'He's known for awhile now.'

"Dad, you've got triplets!"

He's not amused.

"I think it's another Taylor from a parallel dimension where she died. I summoned her here." You explain how she, like Anne, is basically the exact same person, but that she got different powers and your best guess is still that your power is summoning Taylors from alternate dimensions right before they die, or something.

"Honey, we're in the PRT medical wing. You passed out during the conversation, and they put you in one of the VIP rooms so you could have privacy. It's only been a few hours…"

Shit, you're still in the PRT building, and a second ghost just appeared. You hear noise in the hall and look to Marceau in panic. She catches on immediately. Anne and Marceau share a lightning-fast look, and Anne dives through the wall to the side, leaving just you, Dad, and Marceau in the room when Piggot, Armsmaster, and Panacea enter the room.

Panacea looks exhausted. She wordlessly tromps over to the bed and practically slaps her hand onto your forearm. You're surprised by the contrast between how energetic and… alive her sister is, versus how defeated she looks. She grunts something, spins on her heels and leaves without a word to you. Her only comment the entire time is a passing mumbled "she's fine" to Piggot as she leaves.

Well. Okay then.

Assured of your health, Piggot makes arrangements for a PRT detail to bring you to Kurt and Lacey's house. Initially, Armsmaster insists on you staying in a Protectorate safehouse, but Dad is having none of it.

"Are you telling me a PRT detail can't handle the garbage guy and some Merchants if they show up?"

"…"

"And after those assholes attacked us at home, are you telling me any other villains would come after us in our civilian lives?"

Armsmaster shifts, "Well, it's actually less likely given the history New Wave has here than…"

"Fine. Then we're leaving now. Director, I'll let you and Mr. Carruthers finish negotiations and bring us the paperwork."

It takes a little finagling, but Anne is able to sneak through the PRT building and kind of hang on to the bottom of the car they bring you and Dad to. You can feel her flitting through the building, using the hyper-awareness provided by the bugs to avoid detection.

She just keeps getting more and more impressive. You can't help but feel kind of inadequate as you feel her act like some sort of translucent ninja - bypassing patrols, ghosting right behind the backs of office workers, and tucking behind desks to stay completely out of sight.

When you get to their house, Kurt and Lacey are both wide awake. You haven't seen them in probably two or three years, but a palpable wave of relief washes over them when they see both you and your Dad unharmed.

They're a little freaked out by Anne and Marceau, but that doesn't get in the way of their sympathy and hospitality.

"Oh and Anne says you have a bunch of house centipedes in your basement. She says she could clean them out, but that they actually eat other bugs, so she's suggesting you leave them there."

They both answer: "Yeah leave them…" "Oh god gross, get all the bugs out, please!"

Dad chuckles. "You're such a wimp, Kurt. You and bugs, I tell ya. Squirt, there was this one time a couple years back when…"

"Oh Jesus no, Dan, don't bring that up…"

Kurt and Lacey insisted that you take their bed so you could get a good night's rest. You were too tired to object, and by the time Dad was done telling embarrassing stories about Kurt, he'd passed out in their recliner. Based on the light when you wake up, it's already mid-day or later.

'Hey, T, check your phone, I heard it buzzing a ton in your pocket but I couldn't pick it up,' Marceau commands as soon as you wake up.

'Where's Anne?' you ask as you fully come awake. You then feel her, out back behind the house, doing something with a bunch of bugs.

'She's been marshaling her forces all night. And can I say, that's the creepiest shit I've ever seen?'

You can't help but smile as you lean over and grab the phone out of your jeans pocket. 'Can you feel the swarm the way I can?' you ask with a spike of curiosity.

'Oh wow, you can feel all them? No, not at all. What's it like? Is it like being covered in a bajillion bugs all at once?'

You give another small smile. It seems like a reasonable question, but to you they're just little points of electricity. Little bundles of sensory input that you can only really detect when they're close by and are otherwise bits of fuzzy data on the edges of your consciousness. You almost can't even really think of them as "bugs" anymore than you could think of your eyes as "gross squishy orbs of fluid and tissue."

You fish the phone out, recognizing it as the one the E88 left you. You hadn't realized you'd left it on. There's one missed call and one voicemail. It takes you a bit to figure out how to listen to the voicemail.

A smooth baritone comes out of the phone's tinny speaker, "Miss Hebert. The Empire would like to extend our condolences after last night's unpleasantness. Perhaps now you see the difficulties a parahuman in Brockton Bay is up against, and the aggression good people face from the degenerates that clog our streets. We wish you and your father the best, and will be sure to keep an eye out for anyone else who does not respect the boundaries that exist in our society." Click.

That's the second time they've mentioned Dad. Despite the assurances you can't help feel like it's a threat. Just as you move to delete the voicemail, the other phone buzzes. What the hell?! You could've sworn you turned that one off, too.

This one's easier to operate. It's a text and you just have to hit a button right on the screen to bring it up. "Hey u ok? US said to say they keep an eye out for u. Want a meet abt costumes. You say when n were." How did they know about the costumes?! Jesus, the only well-informed people in this city were apparently the villains!

You tell Marceau and Anne about the offer from the Undersiders. At the mention of the group's name, both have an almost imperceptible pulse of positive emotions. Warmth and a vague wistfulness from Anne, and a tiny bit of amused pride from Marceau. Based on her posture, you get the sense that Marceau didn't even realize her reaction.

After quickly conferring over it, you decide that there's nothing morally objectionable about selling them costumes, and let them know that you'll meet them tomorrow at the benches next to the playground in Captain Hill's park. They don't seem like the kind of people who would start anything around children, and it's a wide open public space. That and plants which means bugs. All the bugs.

You must've been making enough noise for them to hear you downstairs. That or Anne walking up to the bedroom alerted them that you were awake. Dad comes into the room and you can hear Lacey downstairs.

"Hey kiddo," he starts.

You can't help but roll your eyes. "Kiddo" was all he ever seemed to call you until you were seven or eight and made the lofty claim that you weren't a kid anymore. Just to irritate you, he switched to calling you "Your Majesty" or "Highness" or "Princess" for like a solid year. At first, you'd loved it since you were deep into the obligatory Disney-princess phase of childhood. After awhile, your attention turned from princesses to capes, and about that time he'd taken to calling you "squirt," the nickname that lasted from when you were about nine or ten until Mom died and he stopped calling you anything at all.

"Hey, old man."

"So want to hear the creepiest thing you've ever heard?"

"Wait, what?!" There's a spike of amusement from Anne.

"Go ahead, Anne, show her."

A small wave of insects make their way into the room and form a circular node of writhing chitin no more than a foot across. Their buzzing slowly becomes more coordinated until you feel like they're almost singing or something. No wait, not singing… "ello… ello… an youuuu hear eee…?" comes across through the buzzing, inhuman noise.

"Holy crap!"

Anne gives a ghostly grin.

"No fucking fair! I can't talk as a living girl, and now I can't talk as a ghost, but creepy bug girl gets to talk?!"

"Just mime a sock puppet and have it talk," Anne responds.

She bursts out into silent laughter and buzzing imitation laughter when Marceau actually does mime a sock puppet before realizing that sock puppets can't talk.

"Okay so yeah I agree Dad. That's creepy as hell," you suspect that it's even weirder for you since you can feel what Anne's doing to the bugs. Consciously feeling how she manipulates each insect into completely unnatural movements to simulate speech is unnerving.

"Yeah she's spent all night and morning in the back yard working with the bugs. She's got triplines set up all over the property, has been putting insects on every single person in a three block radius, and for the past few hours has been practicing that," he informs you, waving towards the voicebox-pod of insects.

Despite everything you've seen and felt from Anne over the past two days, knowing what a badass she is, you still continue to be impressed. She's improving with her bug powers in leaps and bounds. It's more like she's drawing on some sort of well of past experience rather than just coming up with all this stuff on the fly. That or she's actually a way smarter version of you than you are. Hmph. That's humbling.

"So I should probably call New Wave to thank them for Amy's help with…" you start to choke up a little, "…everything and talk things over with them." Dad's at your side in an instant, hugging you tightly.

Marceau mimes a hugging motion and you can feel a sense of pressure. You're startled out of the moment when Anne lands a butterfly on your nose. You felt it coming, but you're still shocked by the riot of colors when you open your eyes.

Two hours later you find yourself once again sitting in Lady Photon's office in the New Wave public headquarters, showered but still in yesterday's grubby clothes. This time, Anne and Dad are with you, along with Marceau.

To Anne's eternal disappointment, Eric isn't there, but all four of New Wave's adult members are.

Neil Pelham, Manpower in costume, comments "Well hello there, Danny, Taylor. I was lead to believe it was just you and Anne. Father of triplets, now, Danny?"

His booming voice and over-seven-foot stature would be intimidating on anyone else, but the man radiates such calm cheer, you're immediately put at ease by his presence.

"I said the same thing!" you practically chirp out.

"Well, they don't eat much so hopefully they won't break the budget," Dad offers.

You do a quick round of introductions. Interestingly, Marceau is able to mime a handshake and actually create an impression of the physical force and shape of an actual handshake, taken to slightly ridiculous proportions. Both Neil and Mark Dallon, Flashbang, find this hilarious and proceed to do cartoonishly large handshakes with each other and Dad. You explain that you're still working out your power, but for now you're pretty sure that no more ghosts will be showing up.

Neil and Sarah are impressed by Marceau's telekinesis and Mark comments, "So let me get this straight: you're a Master with two projections, each of whom can get up to a block away from you, who are each impervious to any normal physical damage, can walk through walls, have their own fairly strong parahuman power, and each of whom is an independent person with a full human intellect, personality, and capacity for battlefield decision-making?"

Wow, when she puts it that way…

Mark smiles, "Taylor, when you grow into your powers, you're going to be an A-lister, for sure."

Carol Dallon, Brandish, cuts through the air with the voice of a practiced litigator. "Now Miss Hebert, we understand that it's been a tough few days, and we've got a lot to talk about."

This kills the mood.

They commiserate with you about the damage to your house and the danger you and Dad were both in. Fleur is never mentioned, but the specter of their estranged brother's dead fiancee hangs heavy over the office. When you mention the "care package" left by E88 and play the voicemail for them, Sarah is reassuring: "Given the… history involved, I think he's absolutely telling the truth."

"He who?" Dad interjects.

"That was Kaiser," Mark answers.

A beat of silence follows as Dad and I digest the fact that the leader of the E88 personally left me a voicemail.

"The Merchants are all borderline insane," Carol picks up the thread of the conversation. If you'd asked me three days ago, I would've assured you with 110% confidence that, as bad as they are, there's literally no way they would randomly attack a new cape in her civilian ID. Those rules my sister discussed with you last time you visited, Taylor, they are absolutely a real thing. There are just things we do not do in cape life, and I would've expected even the Merchants to know not to do them. After yesterday… I just don't know.

"But I can say that Kaiser's absolutely sincere about respecting boundaries, and he's shown in his own brutal way that he really believes that."

Dad seems only marginally satisfied by this.

"We've all talked everything over, Taylor," Sarah continues, "and we'd like to offer you full membership in New Wave. There would be a one-month probationary period, but we'd hold a press conference immediately announcing that you're a member. That should go a long way towards…"

She trails off as she sees the look on your face. The offer of full membership is gratifying, but for some reason it just doesn't feel right to you. Add to that, both Anne and Marceau had a sort of subconscious negative reaction to the idea of joining. While you're not entirely sure what to make of the emotional links you have to them, you're learning that you need to trust them. They're part of the team every bit as much as you are. More than that… they're family. They're a part of who you are.

You can't just reject an offer like this outright, so you quickly think of something that can try to strike a compromise: "That's such an amazing offer, it really is. I just feel like ever since I woke up in the hospital, I don't know… everything's been moving so fast. Too fast to really think. I definitely want to work with you, and I'd be happy to make you costumes basically for free, but maybe…"

You've got everyone's full attention now. Dad looks like he can't believe what he's hearing. You muster your courage and continue, "… I was thinking of being a sort of affiliate hero with New Wave." You hate that you end up making it sound more like a question than a confident assertion.

"And what, in your mind, would that entail?" Carol asks, voice dripping with dissatisfaction.

"Um, I guess we could still do the press conference and announce that I'm affiliated with New Wave? That I believe in the idea of accountability for heroes, especially in light of my own circumstances? And that I'd be outfitting you with the first of my new costumes, and could maybe go on some patrols with you some time?"

"That sounds an awful lot like joining the group," Mark gently offers.

"I know but it's just… I don't know. I still haven't figured myself out yet, and Marceau just joined us and she's got a lot to say and I need to talk it over with Dad and my…" you pause, searching for the word, "…sisters."

A pulse of warmth and gratitude comes from Anne and Marceau.

You get a deep sense of satisfaction – you've made the right choice here. They're not projections. They're not just ghosts or your power or something. They're your sisters in every possible sense of the word. You don't need to join a team. You all are a team. Team Taylor.

You give an incongruous little giggle, getting a strange look from Dad.

Mark has been talking, again in that gentle tone, "…certainly understand, Taylor. We won't push you or rush you into anything. It'd be best if we hold the press conference immediately, though. Even calling yourself a New Wave affiliate will make it clear that you're associated with a group and will offer you some measure of protection. It's the least we can do for the protection you're offering those of us without a Brute rating," he nods towards Neil.

Carol continues, "As my husband says, we respect your decision. I will also add, I spoke with a partner in my firm, Alan Barnes," you stiffen involuntarily and practically feel Marceau growl. "And he told me what you said to the police about not wanting to press charges against his daughter even after… what she did.

"That impressed all of us. Being parahumans ourselves, we know what it means to go through what we've all been through, and the idea of forgiving the person responsible, well…"

Here Neil picks up, "None of us did such a thing. If I'm being honest, kid, what you told the cops about her still having good in her, well that's just about one of the most heroic things I could imagine. When I got my own powers, I…" he trails off.

Carol and Sarah are both hushed, seemingly locked for a moment in very bad shared memories. Mark says, "We're here for you, Taylor. Whether you're a member of New Wave, or an affiliate, or just a very strong young woman who's had to handle far too much far too young, we're always here to support another hero in Brockton Bay."

After that, things move quickly. Being both a well-connected attorney and a superhero provides Brandish with a lot of pull when it comes to getting things together quickly. All eight members of New Wave gather for the first time in a long while (and Marceau seems to share Anne's appreciation for Eric's… costume) and arrange themselves in a semi-circle around you and Lady Photon on the steps of city hall. You're facing dozens of reporters and struck by a deep feeling of how surreal your life has gotten. Less than 18 hours ago, druggies were blowing a hole in your living room and now you're standing in a press conference. She announces that you've joined as an affiliate of New Wave, and some general platitudes about accountability and so on. The questions come thick and fast, but for now they decide to hold off on any answers, with Lady Photon herself ending the press conference by scooping you up and carrying you off into the sky.

You can't help but think she's just showing off.

The next day you're seated on a bench facing the swing set at the Captain's Hill playground. Anne is roaming through the bushes to your left, organizing her forces. Marceau is standing behind you, arms crossed, looking more like a mime making fun of the idea of a bodyguard rather than an actual bodyguard.

There were only a few folks with kids playing when you arrived, but your presence (or really Marceau's ghostly appearance) quickly scared them away.

Oh well.

'Here they come,' Anne tells you. An unremarkable blue sedan pulls up and stops on the edge of the park. Lisa gets out of the driver's side and the passenger side disgorges a tall guy in a motorcycle helmet and black riding leathers. Black smoke-like stuff bellows around the edges of his body making it hard to tell exactly how tall he is or to clearly watch him as he walks towards you.

'That darkness is weird. I've got bugs in it, no problem, but they feel…'

'It's thick? Like they're moving through water?'

'Yeah, you feel that too?'

Lisa approaches. She shoots a smile at you and then looks back at Marceau. Her smile falters, then slides off her face. She looks even more gobsmacked than when she first saw Anne. Her eyes glaze over. The tall guy grips her shoulder. She doesn't react. His helmet turns sharply to you and Marceau and he shakes her forcefully.

You can't make out what he's saying, between the helmet and the darkness. His posture gets more rigid and waves of darkness start flowing off his body when Lisa suddenly snaps back. She lets out a long, slow, shaky breath and gives the guy a weak nod. You feel the gnat on her head move with her shaking her head 'no' slightly and then another nod.

She walks up and offers her hand.

"What was that?" you ask.

"Oh sorry," she gives a fake little half-laugh, "Something about Anne there seems to really freak me out and I just kinda had a flashback to when I was a kid and… no really it was nothing. Don't worry about it."

This sounds sound unbelievably false to you, but you decide to simply stand up and shake her hand. You're not here to be her friend, nor friends with the villains she represents. This is going to be a business arrangement, pure and simple.

The big guy's name is Grue and he offers a firm handshake. After dispelling all of his darkness, you can get a better sense of him. He's big, but not huge. His voice sounds like he still might be pretty young himself. Makes sense they'd send whoever their youngest member was. Adults were always acting like somehow teenagers and young people would naturally get along better with each other than with an adult. It's like they all forgot what it was like to go to high school and how unbelievably shitty teenagers could be to each other, even setting aside extreme situations like yours.

Grue opens the discussion, "Our sources were able to take a quick peek at the analysis done by the folks that New Wave hired to look over the cloth sample you gave them."

You start to get an offended look on your face and Lisa just laughs, "Hey, you knew they were supervillains, right? A little bit of hacking to read a tech report is pretty mild, all things considered."

Before you can even react, Grue is already talking again, "We'd like to commission one full-body costume made for Lisa here. The rest of us have super-powers, but we need to make sure our unpowered liaison is appropriately protected."

Lisa's got an almost feral grin on her face. I suppose when you spend all day as the one non-cape in the group's dealings, you can end up feeling a bit inadequate. The idea that the group would pay for her to get a costume first must have her pretty stoked.

"Okay. I have to make costumes for New Wave first but you'll be my first client after that. Since my house was, you know, blown up, I'm kinda set back a bit. So it's going to be probably a two month wait or more. And it's gonna cost," you hesitate for just a moment. Lady Photon had said you could ask for tens of thousands of dollars for a single costume, but you still haven't really digested that idea. "twelve thousand dollars," you finish.

Grue and Lisa look at each other. How much can she possibly see through his helmet? After a beat, you amend what you'd said, "I can't do any less than ten thousand…"

Lisa cuts you off, "Sorry, Taylor we were only hesitating because we thought it was going to cost more. Tell you what, we've got access to several buildings in the north docks. We'll give you ten thousand plus set you up with a workshop where you can store all your spiders, if you agree that your next three costumes after mine will also be made for us at the same ten thousand price."

A quick mental conference with Anne and Marceau and you decide to agree. After all, with Anne's situational awareness you'll know plenty in advance if there's some sort of trick at play. You agree and Lisa says she'll text you with an address within 48 hours. She even suggests you could bring your father to see the workspace.

What is it with supervillains and mentioning Dad? It really is starting to feel like a none-too-subtle threat. Literally at the moment you have that thought, Lisa smirks. "Oh, don't worry Taylor. I'm a teenager myself and the Undersiders were all once teenagers too. If you want to keep this separate from your father, we'll definitely understand."

Grrr.

The next few days pass quickly. Lisa was better than her word – it's not just a workshop, it's an entire floor of a small warehouse lined with shelves filled with hundreds and hundreds of empty terraria. Whatever thieving these guys do, it must pay well to give them the resources to get this set up so quickly.

Lisa actually presents you with the title to the place, and it's been made out to you. How the hell can a 15 year old even own property, much less an entire warehouse?! The mysteries just keep piling up ever since you woke up to Anne at your hospital bed.

Kurt and Lacey object to the idea of you and Dad moving out and staying at one of those long-term hotel places. They scrounge up a cot for you and even go so far as to replace their couch with a pull-out bed version for Dad.

The PRT informs you that you'll be allowed back into your house in a few days to gather personal effects or have a contractor come see about beginning repairs. You won't be able to stay there until it's fixed, though. Seems the part of the wall that got taken out included a support beam, so it'd be dangerous to live there until it's fixed back up.

You spend a big chunk of your time playing around with Marceau's powers and seeing how well you can sense (decently) and control (poorly) her telekinesis. You discover that she can create large gusts of wind by doing that fake-walking-into-the-wind thing. Anne is very excited by this and explains that one of her big limitations is moving the swarm quickly. Bugs can go faster than you'd expect when they're moving in a straight line under perfect human direction, but they're still just bugs. With a boost from Marceau's wind, she can reposition the swarm much more quickly. Marceau's telekinesis is otherwise pretty versatile and powerful. She can mime ropes that seem to be able to lift nearly a ton of weight, forcefields that can withstand an awful lot of battering, and other sorts of "cartoon physics" invisible constructs.

At the end of the week you get a big hit of bad news. The PRT was transferring the Merchants from their holding cells on the Rig to a parahuman detention center to await trial when Mush attacked. Somehow he'd managed to gather and organize every warm body that'd ever had anything to do with the Merchants and simply overwhelm the PRT with a tide of angry, screaming junkies. Mush made off with Skidmark and with Squealer's body. Whirlygig was in a separate transport and moved out of the city.

All of which would normally have very little impact on your already catastrophically low opinion of the PRT until you get a text from Lisa: "Hey Skidmark on rampage bc Squealer coma. Offered 250k 4 your body or 500k 4 u alive. Heads up."

Shit.

Oh and look at that, the counter rolls up to 325/700 and you feel another burst of that same energy.

It's like the universe is rewarding you with more powers just so it can crap on you at the same time.

Choices

Spoiler

Last edited: Oct 31, 2017

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BreezyWheeze

Jul 22, 2017

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Threadmarks Interlude 1

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BreezyWheeze

Jul 23, 2017

#59

PRT/PRO INTERNAL MESSENGER v23.9177.23.1 SECURITY LEVEL: 4

Present in Chat: Piggot, Emily/PRT ENE DIR/#24601; ASSAULT/PRO ENE HER(prv)/#11235

Piggot, Emily/PRT ENE DIR/#24601: Take B and do Wards potential first contact. Taylor Hebert. BBGH rm 219.

ASSAULT/PRO ENE HER(prv)/#11235: Whoa. Locker girl?

Piggot: Dont call her that. Incident reports make it prime TE material and the doc just called it in.

ASSAULT: Thrt lvl?

Piggot: 1/very low or 0/none

ASSAULT: Its Velocity's turn?

Piggot: You and B are at 75 success rate. Make it 80.

ASSAULT: Can't count Backslash poor kid died before signing up. And Kid Win and Reynard would've signed up if anyone talked to them.

Piggot: Assault, do I need to ask Armsmaster to make this an official PRO order?

ASSAULT: uhh…

Piggot: I thought so. Roll out right now. You're already late. Meet Lt. Netherore in the Physician Lounge on floor 2 before going in.

ASSAULT: on it

PRO/PRT OFFICIAL COMMUNICATION

FORM AA-227: AFTER-ACTION REPORT INVOLVING RECRUITMENT OUTREACH (WARDS)

FILED BY: ASSAULT/mkv

SENT TO: OFFICE OF THE DIRECTOR, PRT ENE

cc: EMILY PIGGOT; ASSAULT; OFFICE OF PROTECTORATE LEADER ENE; ARMSMASTER; OFFICE OF INTERNAL OVERSIGHT; LEGAL AFFAIRS OFFICE; RECRUITING OVERSIGHT; NONPROTECTORATE PARAHUMAN CONTACT ARCHIVES

DATE INCIDIENT: 2009-11-30

DATE FILED: 2009-12-03

PROPERTY DAMAGE ESTIMATE LEVEL: N/A

VIOLENCE LEVEL: N/A

PROTECTORATE MEMBERS INVOLVED: Assault, Battery

PRT OFFICERS INVOVLED: Lt. Macintosh K. Veekie, Sgt. Adam A. Cooper

NON-PROTECTORATE PARAHUMANS INVOLVED: Tinker [name redacted] [Name Updated: Kid Win WRD#6688714]

PROTECTORATE FATALITIES: N/A

PRT FATALITIES: N/A

NON-PROTECTORATE PARAHUMAN FATALITIES: N/A

NON-PARAHUMAN PARTICIPANT FATALITIES: N/A

BYSTANDER FATALITIES: N/A

FATALITY ATTRIBUTION(S): N/A

ACTION SUMMARY: PRO and PRT made first contact with a new Tinker in response to voicemail on PRT recruitment hotline (see audio recording file A#6688995). Discussion was held in [KID WIN]'s home. [KID WIN] was amenable to Wards recruitment and demonstrated strongly positive feelings towards Battery and especially Assault. [KID WIN]'s parents were more reserved, expressing concerns about danger to Wards. Conversation ended with a commitment from [KID WIN] to come PRO HQ the following Monday after school and to sign up, but with both parents insisting they would come in to 'discuss the matter further.' (see full transcript of mkv's recording file #6688289). Later that same day, [KID WIN]'s father called PRT headquarters for further discussion and left a voicemail. Lt. Veekie returned the call within the hour and had an extensive discussion with the father. (see file A#66885347). [KID WIN]'s mother made nine separate calls to PRT headquarters over the next 48 hours. Lt. Veekie returned each call within the hour. (see summary report #6688321). The following Monday, 2009-12-03, [KID WIN] and his parents arrived at PRO HQ and completed all Wards enrollment paperwork. [KID WIN]'s mother made a point of commenting that she was unable to reach Assault, despite asking for him multiple times, but that Lt. Veekie was incredibly helpful and reassured her that the Wards program was the best choice for [KID WIN]. (see summary report #6688326) (see recruitment report #2874).

PRT/PRO INTERNAL MESSENGER v23.9177.23.1 SECURITY LEVEL: 6

Present in Chat: BATTERY, PRO ENE HER/#99277; ASSAULT/PRO ENE HER(prv.)/#11235

BATTERY/PRO ENE HER/#99277: What's up, sexy buns?

ASSAULT/PRO ENE HER(prv.)/#11235: Baby.

BATTERY: ???

ASSAULT: I screwed up

ASSAULT: Bad.

BATTERY: oh cmon

ASSAULT: Like really really bad

ASSAULT: Bad

BATTERY: Shit What happened?

ASSAULT: You know how Mack always handles outside paperwork stuff for me

BATTERY: Who?

ASSAULT: Mack You know, Lt Veekie?

BATTERY: You make him do paperwork for you? Jesus, Ethan.

BATTERY: Do you even have the first idea why he'd be willing to do that?

ASSAULT: Hes gay? And I'm hot

BATTERY: Fuck. Well, at least you're not an oblivious asshole when you're manipulating the guy

ASSAULT: So anyway I totally forgot about the NDA paperwork on the med staff at the hosp since Mack handled that the last four time

BATTERY: Oh.

BATTERY: Oh no.

BATTERY: Oh god.

BATTERY: Oh god, Ethan.

BATTERY: Ethan seven people died when they showed up at her house.

ASSAULT: Think theyll grant you an annulment when they send me to the Birdcage?

BATTERY: That's not funny. I'm coming back to the Rig right now.

ASSAULT: Dont

ASSAULT: Just finish your patrol

ASSAULT: No reason to get us both in trouble

The Warlord leaned back in his throne. He allowed the girl to continue her work, giving the barest grunts as she brought him to completion. She immediately backed away, led off by a lieutenant.

His best friend, perhaps only friend, moved forward from his silent vigil at the back of the room. Approaching his side, the man began, "And what of this thing with the bugs and the Merchants? We claim the territory but do no real business there. Yet they were uncomfortably close to one of our backup safehouses."

"The child is strong for one so new, to put down a dozen men so quickly. One bee makes no honey, yes, but a hundred hundred bees collapse a gang with a single strike."

The Warlord's friend nodded.

"Shall I take action?"

"For the offense of bringing their tinker monstrosity into our territory, kill four. Leave the garbage one and the rest to wallow in the indignity of falling to a child."

The man couldn't help but smile. So many years after coming to America, his best friend, perhaps only friend, continued to cling to the superstitions of his two homelands. Always it was this: "Kill four, Oni Lee," "Maim four, Oni Lee," "Pay the family eight thousand dollars, Oni Lee," "Pay the widow eighty-eight thousand dollars, Oni Lee."

He faded back from his friend's throne and set to his simple task.

"I think you're overreacting," Newter repeated.

"You think anything but lying around and doing nothing is over-reacting," Spitfire shot back.

Faultline made a sharp, sideways chopping motion with her hand. From any other boss, such a gesture would be a mild sign of irritation and an indication to stop the bickering. From a woman who could level a skyscraper with such a gesture, it was a bit more ominous.

"Why is it that other cities can go a decade without a serious breach of the rules, and yet Brockton has seen two in the past five years?

"Gregor? Thoughts?" Faultline found herself relying on Gregor's input more and more. His mind bent in subtle and unusual ways – perhaps some alterations to his brain accompanied the alterations to his body? Yet, he seemed to be the only other person on the team with anything like a strategic mind. Labyrinth was lost to her worlds, Newter was a hopeless hedonist, and Spitfire's response to everything was excessive caution.

He smiled, the tiny mollusk shells at the corners of his mouth bunching, "For once I agree with Newter. I think this will be nothing. And also I agree with dear Emily. We don't must leave, but good to take a longer task out of the state for some weeks, now, yes?"

Faultline nodded. It was what she'd already decided, but it was good to gather confirmation.

"Okay. I've been sitting on three leads out on the west coast. Pack for an extended trip. You've got twelve hours."

Her eyes skimmed over the words, again and again. She wasn't taking in any new information. The mechanical movements of her eyes across the few paragraphs that had been posted on PHO were just mindless repetition while her mind spun out into panic.

They attacked her in her home. They attacked her in her home. They attacked her in her home.

Her mind's needle skipped, again and again. Fabric, sewing needles, and thread spun behind her in a mindless jumble.

I have to get out. I can't stay here. I have to get out. They attacked her in her home.

She panicked long into the night.

"Yes Tattletale, I will cover the full costs," Coil replied in irritation.

"If you're so impressed by the report, why are we only asking for one costume?"

"Having a truly extraordinary talent and actually being able to use it to effectively execute tasks are two very different things."

"You're as subtle as a brick."

"Do not test my patience, Sarah. It has been a trying day."

He ended the connection.

Again, he skimmed the preliminary report that Armsmaster had filed from the scene of the attack. As ever, a new trigger presented him with a crisis and an opportunity. Another stable, predictable, business-minded rogue along the lines of Parian was a boon for him. One that was racially unsuited to the ABB or Merchants and ideologically opposed to the E88 was almost perfect. With his huge pool of intermediaries, he could secure the services of this rogue for a long time to come.

Certainly he would ensure that she occasionally did work for others to help boost the city's image, and allowing him to act as an intermediary without her knowledge. Pay Coil a sum of money, or (better yet) owe Coil a favor and he'll get you one of those spidersilk costumes. A powerful tool in his toolbox. Even more impressive, being able to outfit a few squads of his men with both Tinkertech laser rifles and what were essentially Tinkertech costumes would serve as a huge force multiplier for him over the coming years.

He'd been busy splitting timelines managing several business affairs for the past week. He'd considered taking the girl in with a few splits, but fate had saved him from that wasted effort. A girl with a projection that can walk through walls had her uses, but had he sent his teams in, they would've been decimated by the girl's swarm. Just as well the Merchants revealed her true power, rather than making him waste time, energy, and a timeline to discover such. Best to continue business as usual and place the girl in the "opportunity" rather than "crisis" column. If she ever made the mistake of re-labeling herself – intentionally or otherwise – he could simply go after her father.

Tunelessly humming to himself, Coil turned his attention to an email from one of Accord's Ambassadors.

While reading the email and pulling up a dossier on the Travelers, Coil was suddenly struck with a thought. The bug girl was, by all accounts, a heroic rogue. Friendly talks with New Wave, but no real overt actions until she drove off the Merchants. Perhaps it would be best if he bankrolled a team of heroic or vigilante rogues. His connections with the PRT gave him a strong footing on the government-hero side of things, but his asset portfolio was missing an independent team like New Wave.

He moved the window with the summary of the Travelers to the side. He pulled up the Undersiders and skimmed them over quickly. They needed a fifth, but the psychological makeup of the group suggested they'd have a very hard time adding another.

He opened several loose files. Trainwreck. Brand new, still very much under the radar. The Thinker child he was still investigating. And Circus. A mercenary who could certainly be paid enough to play at the hero and to tolerate others. He smiled to himself, opening a new file, pasting the information on Hebert at the top of the list.

Skiddy was in the back of my baby's cabin, waving that ridiculous baton around (he called it his "dick stick" and would make me suck on it in front of the others as punishment sometimes). He was screaming into the PA system he'd made me add, with speakers that blared out, front, back, and sideways. Something, something, shit-turds, waving the cumrag flag, showing those slit-shitting chinks that we could take their territory, too.

I could barely hear him over the glorious roar of my baby's 14 separate engines. I'd used six kinds of combustion and fucking invented eight more just to give this glorious creation more power, more raw awesome than God's own farts. The comment about chinks caught my attention for sec. Wasn't Hop Li or whatever his name was a chink and our best earner and like Skiddy's top normal dog? Dude brought in more scratch selling that club drug shit to the all the good white kids than any other three guys in the Merchants, combined.

Whatever. Not my job to worry about it. I was just getting completely drenched, both from sweat and excitement, at Skids finally letting me take my big girl out for a show around town. Nine gun emplacements and a main cannon that could take down the goddamn PRT HQ if I ever used my special rounds in it. Boss man wanted us rolling through the northeast docks area, scaring the straights, and making it clear this was our turf now, not the ABB's.

I was secretly worried as shit about Lung. Not for myself, of course. I would be fine, sure, sure. But for my baby. She was a big tough noisy bitch but if Lung came at us all ramped up, he could do some serious damage before I could get us out of here.

Skiddy had us slow down to barely ten miles an hour, so he could scream at our other boys in the cars, and shout his declaration of ownership. Weird fucking place to do it – it was all just normal homes around here.

But I'd long since learned not to question my man. He had his ways. Information just… came to him. I never knew how he did it, but if he was screaming his head off here, then the slit-shitting chinks must have a safe house or something…

Gah, fuck! A bee few like right into my eye. I couldn't help it - I jerked the wheel slightly, moving my head backwards. Skiddy was shouting at me. Fuck. Fuck. Distract him:

"Hey Skids, want to fire the main cannon into the sky? Let's roar at these fucking chinks and show them who the real lion in the jungle is?"

Oh thank god that distracted him. I brought my little love bug to a stop while Skids moved to the main cannon controls. I just barely had time to get my noise-blockers on before he thumbed the trigger.

Shit, shit another fucking bee! What the fuck there's like four of them!! I was so distracted swatting at them, I couldn't even actually pay attention to the rapture of noise and destructive power at my baby's voice shouting into the sky.

GAAAAAHHHHH!!! Fuck! Cockroaches!

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCKING SHITTING EVER LOVING SHITTING FUCK!

I let out an "oof" as a sudden pressure slammed me forward against the controls. Jesus, did Skiddy just set a push zone inside the goddamn cabin, what the fuck is he think… I could barely turn my head to look back at him. The force pushed me to the side, making the whole tank spin out of line with the road, aiming its main cannon towards the sidewalk and houses.

What the fuck, what the fuck… my heart hammered in my chest – the cabin was like crawling full of bugs. Skids had laid down a small field to try and push them away, and his wild flapping at the bugs suddenly set him off balance. He fell into his own force zone.

Oh no -- his hand reached out at anything to stabilize himself, and he grabbed the trigger mechanism for the main cannon. I opened my mouth to scream a warning, but mosquitoes and flies flooded down my throat as my baby bucked again with another shot haphazardly firing towards the sidewalk and some random house.

I gagged. I coughed. I tried to spit. I crunched down, trying to kill the bugs in my mouth. Fingers jammed into my mouth failed to scoop them out… they just kept coming. I tried to suck in a breath and got precious little air but several squirming flies…

Last edited: Oct 31, 2017

83

BreezyWheeze

Jul 23, 2017

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Threadmarks Story Post 4.5: New Liaisons

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BreezyWheeze

Jul 24, 2017

#66

Whatever you end up doing to the Merchants, you know your first order of business is finishing your own costume. A bullet-proof costume top is all well and good, but you want the whole thing finished ASAP. To that end, you spend the entire day after the press conference in your new workspace, after stopping off near the house. You're still not allowed in it, but they let you get Dad's truck from the driveway. He parks half a block away and Anne brings the remaining widows, snugging them under the junk in the pickup's bed.

Dad tries to say he should stay at the workshop with you, but you wave casually at all the deadly spiders. A quick demonstration of how ludicrous Marceau's TK is convinces him that you can keep an eye on yourself for a day, and he heads off to work.

Anne keeps offering little chittering exclamations of delight at the setup. She's gotten so good at talking through the insects, that she hardly thinks into your mind any more.

After the first few minutes, it gets kinda boring. There's just…nothing for you to do. Marceau patrols the area, amusing herself by occasionally miming a lasso and tripping random shady characters. Anne is busy pulling in all the flies in the area of feed the widows, and setting them up with small nests in the terrariums. She keeps muttering to herself about "selective breeding" and "tensile strength" and other random crap. You wouldn't notice except she's taken to having this not-quite-human-shaped pile of flies and mosquitoes follow her around and do the talking for her.

'Yes. You are more than right. It's not just creepy, it's fucking nightmare fuel," Marceau agrees.

You decide to spend the day focusing on your ability to sense their powers. Your control is still total crap, but by lying on the floor of the workshop, and closing your eyes, you're able to get a pretty okay feel for Marceau's constructs and Anne's swarm. You feel like you rapidly hit a wall, though, beyond which your perception just won't improve.

It's frustrating.

By the end of the day, Anne's well settled and she assured you that she can finish your costume in just a couple of days. With a better infrastructure for organizing them, she thinks that once you're settled you'll be able to crank out a bodysuit probably in under two weeks. Assuming you're able to deal with the Merchants and keep the workshop undisturbed, that is.

Dad's truck arrives and Anne forces the widows into torpor.

You're almost half-getting used to the cot in Kurt and Lacey's den. You still toss and turn much more than you'd prefer, but you're getting something like a full night's sleep. That morning when you awake, you find yourself drawn into Taylor Selection, as usual.

The energy has returned, but before you can think about where to direct it, your eye is caught by another Taylor being lit up with a spotlight. Walking over, you see that she's sharply dressed – pinstripe suit jacket and pencil skirt with a blouse and accessories that would let her blend in at some high-powered business meeting. If it weren't for the domino mask on her face, you'd never suspect she was a cape.

You've been crazy curious, and it's time to figure out what's going on with the sickly-looking Taylor and you figure you may as well figure out this new business suit Taylor too. You activate them each in order, their mannequins appearing in your two active circles.

You pull back from Taylor selection and are faced with two brand-new ghosts. They react predictably.

"Oh. Huh," sickly-Taylor says, looking down at herself. "Guess the brain tumor finally did me in."

"Brain tumor?! What? Where am I? Did Lung kill me?"

Oh my god. Another one?!

'Oh my god, another one?! What the hell is it with Taylors from different dimensions and fighting Lung, of all people?!' you address both of them.

The reference to other dimensions silences them both for a moment.

'Does that mean I'm not dead?' sickly-Taylor asks.

'Um… yeah actually I'm sorry I don't know. I think you probably are,' you reply.

'No! NO! How the hell did that happen! Lung was moving towards me and the Wards, but Dennis should've been able to freeze him, we had it all planned!!' business-Taylor looks like she's starting to panic.

You wish you'd kept Anne available. Being able to shunt emotions into the bugs would be pretty handy right about now.

'And where are my lines?! I've got no lines! Where's Dad!!' At her reference to lines, you realize that you've got these translucent ghostly lines all leading out from the center of your chest. There are two very solid, pure snow-white lines leading to the two ghosts. A strong green line points towards the couch in the next room where Dad is sleeping, and two fainter ones are pointing upstairs. Nearly a dozen or so faint greenish-blueish lines are pointing off into the distance, and one very angry-red line is pointing roughly north.

'Calm down. Dad, Danny Hebert, is totally okay. He's in the next room sleeping. What do you mean by lines? What are these things?' you ask, waving at your chest.

'So wait forget her "lines", are we dead or what? I mean I knew it was coming, but I was hoping I'd have a bit more time to help Dad with all the Union shit he was dealing with.'

The reference to Dad and his work with the Union calms down Prada-girl. A brief bit of normalcy in what must otherwise, to her, be deeply surreal.

'Okay guys, ultra-quick Cliff's Notes version: my name is Taylor Anne Hebert. After being bullied for a year and a half by Emma, Madison, and Sophia,' you can see both of them kind of nodding along, 'I suffered a trigger event and got powers when they shoved me a locker filled with rotting tampons for hours. My power seems to be…'

Business-suit looks like she wants to throw up. Sickly-Taylor is totally gobsmacked.

'Huh. Guess you guys didn't go through that one? Well, you can tell me about it in a sec. Lemme just finish giving you the quick run-down. So I don't actually know how my power works, just that I seem to be able to summon ghostly copies of other Taylors. Things are a little different, but so far each of them has described having their memories fade out to nothing, usually at a really tense moment.

'So, yeah. I hate to break it to you, but I think my power is summoning other parahuman Taylors from, like, other Earths, like Earth Aleph or whatever, right at the moment before they die. I don't know, I really don't know for certain, but that's my best guess. I've summoned two other Taylors before now, and have access to four total.'

They both take a good, long while to process that.

'Will I die now? Again, I mean?'

'Not that I know of. The other two ghosts I summoned earlier retained their full parahuman powers, but were actually like ghosts – objects just move through them, and they don't seem to need to eat or sleep. They're impervious to gunfire or any other damage we've tried to think of.'

She pauses again and then gives you a firm nod, 'Okay.'

'Just okay?' you can't help the half-smile that steals onto your face.

'Yeah, just okay. I mean, I was already dying of brain cancer, and I was one of those chumps who got a super-weak power after Scion disappeared. I remember Emma's betrayal, but she never did anything like… that… to me. Somewhere in there I triggered with super-weak telekinesis. It's been very slowly growing, but it's kinda sucky. I can only lift just over ten pounds.

And so apparently I died. Really, no big. I was expecting it. My last memory isn't anything to do with Lung. I was busy raiding an E88 safe house with Lisa and this skinhead asshole was charging at me. Lisa suggested that I try to punch him in the brain. I'm pretty sure he went down, but my memory gets pretty fuzzy at that point. And then I woke up here,' she gestures around the room. 'And based on the singing fish plaque on the wall over there, I'd guess we're in Kurt and Lacey's house.'

You smile at that. 'Yeah, casa de Hebert got its front wall blown off by the Merchants so they're putting us up for now.'

They both react at once, 'How the hell did the druggie Merchants…' 'Who are the Merchants?'

You quiet them both down. 'I can get you guys caught up in just a sec. For now, Taylor, do you feel like you understand what's going on? Can you tell me about your own situation?' you address Business Suit.

She still seems really uneasy and much much angrier than any of the other Taylors so far. As she starts her story, you understand why – her life was actually going pretty well. She triggered in response to bullying from Emma and Sophia, but there was no locker to contend with. She has a thinker power that lets her detect relationships between people, and had ended up joining the Wards. You and the other Taylor can't totally suppress the vague distaste you both feel at hearing that fact.

She talks about how she learned that her power could let her give another cape a little boost, or temporarily borrow a fraction of their power, and had started really fitting in with the Wards. They'd gone out on a mission to stop the Undersiders from getting away with a heist when Lung showed up. She'd had a plan all worked out and was totally sure it would work, but something must've gone wrong.

You take a moment to digest what they've both told you, when you suddenly burst out, 'Holy crap wait did you say after Scion disappeared?!'

'Yeah, why? Is he still around in this dimension?'

You assure sickly-Taylor that Scion is still very much around when she asks a question that chills you to the bone: 'Oh. Does that mean you still have the Endbringers, too?'

While Prada-Taylor comes from a dimension that's basically the same as yours, Anne's, and Marceau's, it seems that sickly-Taylor inhabited an Earth Bet that was different in lots of subtle ways. Hero was still alive and the leader of the Protectorate. They didn't have Endbringers, but they had much more frequent but smaller monster attacks from things called Calamities. And her Lisa was the same freckled, blonde girl, but she was a parahuman Thinker operating solo, rather than a normal girl working for the Undersiders.

Since you can't get any work done with the widows, you spend the rest of the day catching up on homeschool work and playing around with the two new powersets. Prada-Taylor agrees to go by "Lea" as a sort of shortened name from "Liaison," her name when she was a Ward. She does demand a chance to go chat with Wards here as a "dying wish" as part of her agreement to help you.

It's weird having one of your ghosts get angry with the situation and act a little at odds with your own wishes (since you want basically nothing to do with any government stooges), but it just re-confirms for you that you're pulling actual, real people from other dimensions.

Sickly-Taylor asks to be called "Worm," which you find kind of morbid and gross. She explains, though, that the scan of her brain showed a worm-like growth in her head, and that both her powers and her death were defined by that little worm of cancer gnawing away at her brain. She's definitely way more of a downer than any of the others (which is totally understandable!), but also more accepting of the idea of being an actual ghost.

You learn in short order that Lea can't push or pull on Worm at all. It seems that her power-boosting probably only applies to other actual capes rather than your ghosts. Her pulling on your power does nothing for her, but when she pushes into you, you suddenly feel a much stronger connection to both of them. You can see clearly out of their eyes, and not feel the slightest bit of disorientation from now having three pairs of eyes all at once. You get much, much better awareness of what Worm's doing when she uses her TK, although your ability to use the power is still pretty crappy.

Boosting you completely tires Lea out quickly, so you take a break from power testing. She explains what the various colors mean (blue for neutral/work relations, green for friends and family, pink for romance, red/orange for hostility, and yellow for concern or embarrassment, with the lines representing the base state and pulsing orbs representing current feelings). She's never seen white before and is more than a little weirded out by the white line she has to you.

A moment's thought reveals the obvious connections you've got: green to Dad, Kurt, and Lacey; Blueish-green to New Wave and the Undersiders; and the angry red-orange has got to be Skidmark. Huh. That'll make tracking down any of your enemies much easier, you muse.

You pass out early that night. Catching up on a week of homework using Kurt and Lacey's ancient computer was trying, and working out two new powersets was more exhausting than you'd expected.

The next morning you re-activate Anne and Marceau to get back to costume work. They let you know that they had no idea an entire day had gone by. It was like going to sleep and waking up again, just more abrupt. You're glad to find out that time out of the active circles doesn't seem to have any bad effect.

You explain the other two Taylors to them. They're both kinda freaked out at the one Taylor who said that Scion and the Endbringers disappeared at the same time in her world. That's a connection that's both creepy and WAY over your heads for now. After a lengthy discussion, the three of you decide what to do about the Merchants, and you come to a decision about using that "level up energy" you've got available.

Last edited: Nov 2, 2017

84

BreezyWheeze

Jul 24, 2017

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Threadmarks Story Post 5: Quantum leap

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BreezyWheeze

Jul 25, 2017

#93

"But we're going to have to hit hard, that's all I said. Hit. Hard. Not kill them, stop putting words in my mouthy-bug-sound-hole, Marceau."

'It sure sounded to me like you meant "kill them",' Marceau replied.

'Ugh, fine, I'll think it then so you can't claim my bugs have no "tone of voice." All I'm saying is that Taylor made it clear that she's got a strong "aggression" line which means we should be able to find Skidmark easily. We don't need New Wave's fliers to patrol around looking for Merchants, we can go right to the top. New Wave is a bunch of powerhouses, yeah, but we don't need powerhouses for this. We need to get in quietly, tie up the Merchants all in one fell swoop, and get out. New Wave is too flashy for that kind of quick ambush-strike.'

'Far be it from me to doubt the precision you have with your creepy-ass power, but after going overboard last time and seeing what that did to Taylor, do you really want to risk any more deaths?'

'It's a hard world, Marceau, and we need to be hard in it.'

'I'd say you scare me, but you'd just…'

Marceau stopped as Anne did an exaggerated mime of laughter, holding her belly and shaking her shoulders up and down.

'Bitch.'

You overhear their entire conversation, of course. They'd thought you were asleep and thus were making no efforts to keep their conversation private. What you get that Marceau doesn't is the texture behind Anne's words. She's worried about you, and a feeling of fierce protectiveness radiates from your connection to her. You're not sure, though, how to react to the idea that such protectiveness lets Anne feel sort of okay with the idea of killing more Merchants.

You're a hero, and you're going to act like one, even if Anne seems to be growing more callous and "practical" by the day.

Their bickering fades from your awareness as you focus your mind back into Taylor Selection. You quickly push the energy into yourself. A wave of tingly warmth spreads over you body, and you stagger slightly. There's a feeling of pulling, coming from the rows of Taylors in front of you. It's not physical, but your… mind… feels stretched. And stretched. You double over, feeling like you're going to throw up. And…

SNAP

SNAP

SNAPSNAPSNAPSNAP

SNAP

Like leaning back and feeling your spine pop again and again, you feel a pulse and relief to the pulling sensation a half-dozen times. Straightening back up, you see that the array of Taylors in front of you has grown considerably brighter. You still only have full spotlights on Anne, Lea, Worm, and Marceau, but now another group have the dim footlight-style illumination that lets you make out their features reasonably well.

You do a quick walk around the array of Taylor-mannequins. In a semi-circle just behind your four ghosts are six more dimly lit. One is the first monstrous Taylor you've seen available – she looks like some sort of ape-bug cross. There's another that's two almost-overlapping ghostly Taylors and the one next to her looks like four overlapping Taylors. You don't feel any resonance as you walk by any of these other selves, so there must be something more you need to do before you can call them from their dimensions.

Further back is another loose semi-circle of seven people. Just walking back here staggers you slightly. Something about these other selves is… intimidating. There are two more who look like they have some sort of replication power, as there are multiple entities around them. As you pass one that has a shadow that looks like Lung next to her, your attention is caught by a Taylor that has…

oh my god…

Mom?

Is that Mom?

She's kind of ghostly and black and white or something, but she looks so…

Tears form in the corner of your eyes. A soft, kind look on Mom's face. It's so distinctive even on that faded black and white image. Mom's got her hand protectively placed on that Taylor's shoulder.

Is it just a projection?

You find that you don't care. That Taylor has Mom back. You resolve to figure out whatever you need to do in order to be able to summon that ghost, and you'll do it.

You pull back from Taylor Selection.

Once again you're staggered. You'd been lounging in a chair in the corner of the workshop, so there was nowhere to fall to, but you can't help but flail slightly. You lean forward, holding your head in your hands. Deep breaths, Taylor, deep breaths, you tell yourself.

Your stomach flops and your head pounds.

Anne zips to your side. 'What is it?'

'Ohhh… god… is this what you sense all the time?'

'What do you mean? I thought you'd gotten a handle on sensing the swarm?'

You slowly, slowly come back to yourself. 'It's so much data. So much. I thought I knew what you sensed before, but this is amazing. They're not just little bundles of nervous systems, each one is made up of a whole galaxy of information. I think I can see now how you can move an individual bug with such precision, control and direct the weaving of each spider.'

You reach out to the nearest terrarium and move your senses into the handful of spiders stored in little sectioned-off parts of the glass enclosure. You can watch them work with uncanny speed and accuracy as Anne directs them. At the same time, you rise from your chair and start walking forward, letting your senses take in all of the widows.

It's overwhelming at first but you realize it's not hard. It's… effortless. Your mind just expands and expands to take in all that information.

Is this what it's always like for Anne? Being able to simultaneously sense and control every individual insect while also giving large-scale general instructions. You reach forward again and hold the widow still.

'Hey! What the fuck was that!' Anne mentally barks at you.

'What?' you ask. You feel no strain in controlling this single widow. Before, even moving around a single cockroach felt like trying to tie your shoes with numb hands but now you're quickly able to seize control of all the widows in the tank and make them dance their legs around. It's as easy as controlling your own body – maybe even easier.

'Okay first stop doing that, you're fucking up my work in that tank.'

Anne sounds pretty testy. You release your control and can see as she sets them back into their rhythm of simultaneously sucking juice out of flies and pooping out silk. It's gotta be totally unnatural for them, you think, watching as Anne continues marching an assembly-line of flies right to each widow's mouth, having it drink deep and then use its front two legs to toss the fly out of the enclosure and grab at the next one, spinning silk all the while. Cockroaches scuttle across the floor, clearing the fly-corpses out and eating the remains.

You idly wonder what's happening to all the cockroach poop.

'So when you stopped those widows, I was completely unable to take control back,' she begins.

'Is it that unsurprising? Since I'm the link to this dimension I'd guess that all of your powers are routing through me, so the fact that my commands trump yours is…'

'It's not that,' she interrupts.

'It was like when you made the widows do that, it felt like I was the one telling them to do that. Like I could tell that that wasn't what I'd intended to do, but it still felt totally natural that I was telling them to just stand there and dance around. It wasn't uncomfortable, it wasn't alien, and it didn't feel like you were Mastering me or anything. But I could feel that my control over the flies right next to them was different and it was just… strange.

'I know I'm not really in a position to give you orders or anything, and I agree with Worm that probably you've saved us all from a fate worse than oblivion, so I'm just going to ask, please, as a favor to me – don't do that again unless it's absolutely necessary.'

You're stunned for a moment. Ever since Anne joined you, she's always radiated fierce determination, practicality, and laser-like focus on your shared goals. The only crack in her façade is when she sees little moments with you and Dad, but even there she seems to have settled into a comfortable equilibrium with him and your relationships with each other.

For the first time, you're seeing real vulnerability.

A moment's reflection and you realize it's not that surprising – her bugs are sort of all she has now. Her only way to interact with the world. In some sense, she is her swarm now. And you just tromped all over her control of that, and you did it in a way that made her feel like she wanted to do what you were doing with the bugs.

You give her a slow nod. 'I'm sorry, Anne, I had no idea. When I was in Taylor Selection, I felt the same sort of energy that let me have Marceau out at the same time, but this time I pushed the energy into myself. When I pulled out of it, my sense over the swarm was overwhelming and the control of the bugs right here near me…' you trail off.

'Yes, of course. Anne, the swarm is yours and unless it's a life-or-death situation I won't take control of them again.'

You call Marceau back in and explain to her what just happened. As ever, she's remarkably sanguine about things: 'Well now we've gotta try it with my power, too.'

She mimes the whole "stuck in a box" thing and you can actually see translucent, shimmery fields surrounding her. They're not any color at all and when you focus more closely it looks like you're not actually seeing them with your eyes. More like your mind can actually perceive them now and it tells you that you're "seeing" them.

'That's pretty impressive, even I don't see them, not in any real sense. I just kind of know exactly where they are and how they work, like when you close your eyes and can still move your limbs around.'

You quickly start miming a box around yourself as well. You don't see anything, but you immediately feel what Marceau is talking about. A box forms around yourself and you know exactly where it is.

'Whoa…" she begins. 'That's cool as hell. I guess that's what it looks like when you see mine?'

She continues miming her own box, and you feel like the forcefields around her are maybe a little… dimmer now?

'Does it feel weird at all when I make my own TK stuff?' you ask.

'Nope, totally cool.'

You breathe a sigh of relief. It must be something about how Anne controls her swarm that made you using her power so uncomfortable.

The day wraps up with Anne having finished the bottom half of your costume. She's sewn in several layers of carapaces over your chest and abdomen, and given you knee and shoulder guards of the same chitinous armor. She sewed the whole thing into a single piece with a zipper up the side.

'I never understood why someone would put the zipper in the back of a costume. How are you going to zip yourself up?' she comments.

You pull the whole thing on for the first time. The headpiece is a full ski-mask like covering that only has an opening for your mouth. The yellow goggles give a yellow tinge to the world.

You do a few quick squats and flexes to get the silk settled over your limbs. When you turn around, you're startled by Anne and Marceau. They're looking at each other, just as surprised as you are.

Anne's ghostly form is now covered in a costume almost exactly like yours. Hers is much darker, leaves her hair flowing out the back of the mask, and has these really intimidating mandible-looking things down the sides of her face. Marceau is now in a full mime outfit, but looks much bulkier – like she's armored – and has a full face-mask on. She also looks kinda like a skinny boy.

'Huh, this is what I looked like the last day I remember…' they say in exact unison.

'Jinx!' you reply.

You briefly wonder if now all of your ghosts will come out in their full costumes, now that you've got yours.

The idle thought is brushed aside as you get to the real issue: 'Okay so guys, I'm sticking with my call from this morning. We're going home as soon as Dad gets here,' you hear the telltale rattle of his pickup at that exact moment, 'and we're calling New Wave to start operation: cash out the Merchants.'

Marceau groans and Anne stares at you blankly. 'Oh wait, was that a pun or something?'

Bitch.

'Marceau, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to bring Lea out for this one, since we'll need her Thinker power to track down Skidmark. It'll have to be team Master-Thinker operation.'

She gives an exaggerated bow, twirling one hand around and sweeping it low. 'As my Lady wills.'

'Dork.'

That night, you get Lady Photon on the phone and explain the plan…

Chocies

Spoiler

Your name is Anne, now. You've come to terms with that, and your entire situation, really. You think back, chewing over your decisions again and again, and yet you can't feel like you did anything wrong. You had to step in and interrupt whatever Lung was planning. You sold your life to save however many children Lung was referring to. It might not have been a long career, but you died a hero. And now you've even been given a chance to help another Taylor do better.

This thing with the Merchants, though. Taylor is being naïve. You'd never wanted to kill anyone, but you feel totally at peace with the fact that seven of those fuckers attacked you and Dad at home and got themselves dead for it. When the shit hits the fan over the next day or two, you're going to:

Spoiler

A/N:

Spoiler

Last edited: Nov 2, 2017

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BreezyWheeze

Jul 25, 2017

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Threadmarks Story Post 6: Cash out the Merchants

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BreezyWheeze

Jul 29, 2017

#153

That night, you get Lady Photon on the phone and explain the plan.

"Taylor, have you talked to your father about this?"

"Wait, really? Why?"

Disapproving silence comes across the line.

"No, I mean he doesn't ask me how to run the union, why would I ask him about the specifics of a superhero plan to capture supervillains? I thought that's what you…"

"Okay, okay, enough, Taylor. Sometimes I forget that not every young hero has had the advantage of growing up with parahuman parents like Eric and Crystal have.

"So let's run through it one more time, but explain to me exactly why you want to do it that way."

Anne is jabbering at you a mile a minute and you can feel the jittering excitement she's pushing into all the bugs in the area. Marceau is just smiling lazily, miming that spinning-plates routine with your dishware, except without the actual spinning poles. So yeah, a kitchen full of agitated bees and floating, spinning flatware.

"Okay so if it's just me and Glory Girl at first, we can keep quiet and not be noticed. If you're all bounding around and flying overhead, you'll be noticed and give them a chance to get away, or even worse get one of Squealer's trucks running and that would be bad. So to keep it subtle, me and Vicky track them down.

"I need Vicky with me as a bodyguard since I won't have Marceau to shield me with her TK and Anne's bugs don't react fast enough if even something as simple as an angry guy with a gun comes charging at us."

You feel a huff of irritation from Anne. You spare her a glance, 'It's true.'

'Yeah like I wouldn't find and choke out an idiot with a gun when he was still a quarter-mile away.'

'Oh my god stop joking about killing people Anne! Are you sure you were a hero before you died? Jeez!'

"Okay that sounds reasonable," Photon Mom admits. "And from there…?"

"We get to wherever my orange relationship line is leading. I text you all the address while Anne is scouting the place out with her bugs. Once you arrive, I give you a quick briefing on where everyone is placed in the building."

"That also sounds reasonable. But…"

"But this next part is reasonable too!" you exclaim. "You all stay outside the building to form a perimeter and Anne will have her bugs tie up everyone with spider silk and jam up their guns and stuff. Before they even know we're there, they'll be incapacitated and we can just waltz in and clean them up."

Photon Mom pauses for a moment. "And where will you be in all of this?"

"Um on top of the building with Vicky?"

"I thought Anne could get hundreds of yards away from you."

"Yeah but…"

"No 'buts' Taylor. I'm not letting you get up close to danger in your first real operation. You have amazing range with Anne and we're going to use it."

"My costume is…"

She cuts you off. "Enough. Taylor, your powers are fantastic and nearly perfect for this strike, but we're not going to needlessly expose you to danger. I can agree to let you and Vicky scout forward to find the place and map it out with the swarm, but you're staying at least three or four buildings away with Vicky once we move in on them. That's my decision."

Anne's bugs give an irritated buzz that sounds almost like a sigh.

"Yes ma'am," you can't keep the resignation out of your voice.

"Excellent, Taylor. For someone so new, this is a really simple but effective approach. You should be proud."

You can't help but feel a little surge of pride that overtakes your irritation.

Shit!

Shit shit shit!

And it was all going so well!

You and Vicky are about halfway down the block from the warehouse on the corner where the Merchants are holed up. Your sense of Anne's swarm is good enough to pick out about half of the building or so. It's too dark to see her, but you can feel that Anne is standing on the roof of the warehouse itself, frantically trying to direct her bugs.

Jamming bugs into the firing mechanisms of guns, laying lines of spidersilk to bind the feet of sleeping Merchants – it was all going perfectly. The orange-red line indicating relationship-aggression lead you straight here, and still pointed right at Skidmark on the top floor of the building.

But then someone must've noticed a group of cockroaches carrying a heavy line of widow silk, or something. They all started screaming and now you're feeling bugs die by the thousands at the edges of your perception. Skidmark may be a druggie asshole, but he had the common sense to stock up on crates and crates full of bug spray over the last day.

You pull out your phone. Glory Girl has been restless since the operation started, and is floating just over your head to the side, craning her neck to try and get a better view of what's going on. You hit speed dial and start talking immediately "Skidmark is killing the swarm with bug spray. Move in now. All guns are jammed and he's on the third floor, south side last Anne could feel him."

'That... that everloving asshole. Fuck, fuck fuck, fuck!'

Anne's not pleased.

'Yeah, choke on that you jerk. That weakass spray may have saved you from the wasps but cockroaches are worse than you, you goddamn…'

'Anne!' you shout at her.

Lea seems just as agitated as Glory Girl, pacing back and forth across the roof. She's only ever been in one fight, and she apparently died to Lung before that fight even got started. And the sum total of her participation is feeling the waves of agitation radiating off you and glancing again and again at the relationship lines pointing away from you. That and the crisp white line that connects her to you.

'Tayl…' she starts to shout just as you feel a sudden push of air against a bug behind you - one of the extremely few Anne didn't take with her. You instinctively drop and feel a sudden weight smack against your back.

Someone had managed to sneak up behind you and Glory Girl and had tried to tackle you. Dropping suddenly turned it into an awkward collision that sent both you and the attacker sprawling.

You feel an enormous pulse of Glory Girl's aura. While it hits you with awe, you're certain the attacker is feeling pants-shitting terror right now.

Whipping your head around, you see what looks like just a normal guy – dark cargo pants and a dark long-sleeved shirt – turn towards Glory Girl. She rockets at him, fist extended. His reaction speeds are fast. Not superhumanly so, but he's clearly been in plenty of fights. As she passes just over his head, he jabs a stiff hand upwards.

Screaming.

Blood.

Glory Girl slams into the roof of the building and flops, skids, and rolls to a stop. You see a spreading red patch forming on her abdomen and scrapes and gravel running along the side of her face.

What the hell, what the hell. How strong of a brute is this guy? And why is her face hurt?

You see her try to float shakily to her feet and another wave of her aura pulses out.

At a cry from Lea, you turn your attention back to your attacker.

He rolls quickly to his feet. His face is twisted in fear and from the smell of things, he's pissed himself. Before you can even formulate a response, you see his body hunch forward. His arms dangle more loosely and where before he'd been holding his hands in a sort of classic karate-chop position, his fingers and wrists curl into something more claw-like. More feral. The look on his face turns animalistic, fear is entirely replaced by brute anger and hunger.

The entire transformation took bare seconds. You shake your head slightly, startled by what you just saw. He didn't actually change, like a Changer or whatever. He was still human. But a thousand subtle shifts and you very much got the sense that you were now looking at a completely inhuman beast. An animal that would kill friend and foe alike in mindless rage.

He cries out and dives at you, hands forward. Once again, you try to twist and fall away.

Not fast enough.

Nowhere near fast enough.

His hand punches into your left wrist and your world becomes searing pain. Tearing flesh. You can't make sense of what you're feeling. Did you pass out?

It must've only been a second, but when you regain your vision, you see that your left hand is gone and your arm is spurting blood.

Where is he? Where is he?

Lea.

She is facing him, adopting the same hunched posture. For the first time, she has a line other than her pure white connection to you. Pulsing. Orange. Angry. Giant orbs of flaming red aggression are bouncing back and forth between Lea and the attacker. She holds her hands forward in the same bestial claw-like posture. The attacker is bleeding. Arm. Leg. Side.

A quick glance back at Glory Girl. Oh no. There's an enormous pool of blood under her.

The attacker snarls and leaps at Lea, swiping right through her form. She jabs back, clipping him in the side of the head. A tearing sound and a strip of flesh peels right off his head, taking his left ear with it. He looks like a confused animal at his inability to hurt Lea.

He shakes his head, turns to you, and charges once again.

In a flash, you're tugging hard on your connection to Glory Girl. You roll to the side and float up off the roof out of reach. Can he fly? You haven't seen him fly. You haven't seen anything than an impossibly-strong melee attack.

You see him and Lea circle each other. He's losing so much blood. Is a regenerator?

You wobble slightly in the air. The green-blue line to Vicky starts fading. You fall towards the roof. Seeing his chance, he darts forward, jumping at your uncontrolled descent. You quickly switch to pulling on him.

Your fingertips tingle with a new sensation. Instinctively you know your hands now have some sort of cutting-edge forcefield projecting just a tiny bit beyond your hands. You know with bone-deep certainty that your blades can cut through anything. Anything.

That and there's some sort of subtle siren call deep in your brain. You reach for it and tug, hard. In mere moments, all of your emotions fade away, except for one.

Fury.

You forget Glory Girl. You forget Skidmark and the operation. You forget even Anne and Lea and feel only pure, unadulterated rage. The world turns crystal-sharp. Or rather, it turns completely grey and fuzzy, but your world is now redefined along a single axis: enemies and background static.

All of this in a fraction of a second as you fall towards the enemy's hands. He now stands out as if he were lit with a thousand spotlights. The world around him may be grey and indistinct but it doesn't matter because now there is only The Enemy.

You twist and his hand scrapes along your left leg, taking a chunk of flesh and ankle bone with it.

There is no pain.

You crash to the roof of the building but are able to stay upright. Whatever damage was done to your ankle sends screaming waves of pain signals up your leg, but they are just part of the static. They don't exist. There is only The Enemy.

You growl.

Slashes, jabs. Dodges, feints.

You and The Enemy take bigger and bigger chunks out of each other. Your vision starts to grey out as even your now-indomitable will flags from blood loss. He is faring worse. You may only have a portion of his power, but Lea has already done significant damage to him. He also seems off balance – having a portion of his power drained is putting him off-kilter.

In a desperate flurry of swipes and blows, he pays you back in kind for taking his ear. You fall backwards, knowing that you're about to pass out. You hold your remaining hand forward in a defensive posture that is sure to fail.

Satisfaction gleams in his eyes.

For a moment.

Then he's driven forward by Glory Girl slamming into his back. Your hand cuts through his neck like the proverbial hot knife. Fountains of blood splash across your face. In your mouth.

The orange-red line blinks out.

Then so do you.

But.

What? You can still feel. Sort of? You know for a fact you're unconscious but you can still feel the pulses of Lea's and Anne's power. Lea must've told Anne about the attack, because mere moments after you flop down, two lines of blueish green come rocketing in, fast. You hope to god one of them is Amy.

You can't exactly perceive what's going on, but you do feel the pulse of Lea trying desperately to push on one of the connections to boost someone's power. The edges of Anne's swarm that you can still feel are going berserk.

The last bit of conscious awareness you have is the feeling of crystalline anger coming from Anne.

In what is rapidly turning into a bad joke, you once again awaken to the beeping of a heart monitor.

You're thirsty.

And… you feel... great. Fantastic. Loose and rested and hungry as hell.

You crack your eyes open and, no surprise, there's Anne and Lea. And Dad, sleeping in a chair.

Taylor Selection pulls at you, but you resist the call. You'd normally swap Lea out for Marceau to get back to the default Team Bug Mime, but Lea deserves to participate. To be a part of what comes next. She saved your life. Anne's life. Her own.

The counter in the corner of your vision has ticked upward and is sitting at a tantalizing 695/700. Tease.

'We've got a lot to talk about.'

'Yeah that's putting it mildly.'

'Should we wake Dad? Call in New Wave?'

'In a minute. Let's get you caught up first.'

'Okay just give me the short version first.'

Anne and Lea exchange a look. Nodding, Lea starts talking: 'Best guess is the guy who attacked us was going after the six-figure bounty Skidmark put on your head and using the attack on the Merchants as an opportunity to have almost all of New Wave distracted at once. The PRT is still tracking down information, but he seems to be a recent trigger out of Boston who's wanted on suspicion of several homicides. They were calling him "Cutthroat." Doesn't matter much either way anymore, since he's dead now.'

The memory of buckets of hot, sticky blood splashing into your mouth and eyes assaults you. You double over, feeling your gorge rise.

'Hey, hey, hey now.'

You dry heave several times, staining the sheets with small drops of whatever phlegmy goop was in your stomach. A feel of calm steals over you. You're really glad Anne is able to shunt her emotions and some of yours into the bugs. Regaining your composure, you nod to Lea to continue.

'Glory Girl died.'

Your eyes snap open, saucer-wide.

Anne gets a furious look on her face and turns to Lea. 'Now's not the time for that, Lea.'

'But she did. She died.'

'Fine, if you're going to be like that about it, I'll explain things to her.'

'So the feral bounty hunter damaged you and Glory Girl badly, but Lea told me the instant he showed up. I let New Wave know and they sent Laserdream your way. The entire fight with him lasted only seconds and in that time, Crystal got to you, saw him die, and went back for Amy. When Amy got there, Glory Girl's heart had stopped. So yeah I suppose she was clinically dead for a moment.

'Lea boosted Amy's power, which turned out to be both incredibly stupid and life-saving. Whatever it did, exactly, was strong enough that Amy actually passed out for like ten seconds. When she came to, though, she demanded that Lea boost her again. It was apparently enough additional juice that Amy was able to re-start Glory Girl's heart and patch her up enough to save her life. She did the same for you and even re-grew your hand.'

'That was amazing and really gross. It was like watching a time-lapse video that had been sped up even further and played on fast-forward.'

'Yeah, whatever happens when Lea boosts Amy, it's apparently enough to drive her healing power into some sort of crazy like Crawler-level regeneration speed. You both lost so much blood, though, that you were out for the past two days. Whatever the boost is, it's still not enough for Amy to fix brains, so we've had to just wait for the old-fashioned kind of healing. Glory Girl's still out in the next room over, but they expect her to make a full recovery soon.'

You sit there for a moment, digesting the news.

'The Merchants?'

'They're done.'

'Done,' Lea nods. 'Squealer's still in a coma in some sort of prison hospital. Mush is in custody out in the Rig. Whirlygig is already in some parahuman prison off who-knows-where.'

'And…?'

'Skidmark's dead.'

'I'm sorry, Taylor.

'I'm so sorry but there was no other way.

'I had to do it. Mush caught everyone by surprise and then Skidmark was about to shoot Brandish in the head. I had to gag him and then I couldn't get the bugs out of his throat in time.'

You can't seem to muster up the energy to care. You're bone tired. Spiritually empty. But physically you feel amazing. The disjunction is jarring.

'Okay.'

Vicky wakes up later that day. Amy gives you both a clean bill of health, and the hospital discharges you both. You're kind of surprised that they let you both go so quickly after such grievous wounds, but hey, when part of your after-care plan includes "check ups with Panacea" you guess they're pretty comfortable letting you out the front door.

Dad's furious, of course.

The very next day, you find yourself standing there in front of the press corps once again. You're in a generic blue bodysuit, standing along with the rest of New Wave, Armsmaster, Miss Militia, and that fat lady from the PRT. She's droning on about how the PRT, Protectorate, and BBPD have managed to round up all of the major figures in the Merchants, and congratulating New Wave on their successful strike against the Merchant parahumans.

You'd kept Lea out for the day. She deserves to hear the accolades. Plus, now that you've gotten used to seeing all these social lines everywhere, you're uncomfortable with the idea of immediately giving up all this additional information. Lea is endlessly amused by the orange tint to the blue "work relationship" line you have to the fat PRT director-lady and the pulses of red and yellow that she's constantly sending your way.

Yeah, fuck you PRT lady. Pulse your shitty aggression at me all you want.

Glory Girl and the rest of New Wave are all in absolutely spotless versions of their costumes. They must keep extras, because the last thing you remember, Glory Girl was soaked head to toe in the blood of three different people.

You haven't had time to even begin thinking about cleaning the tatters of your costume, much less fixing it. Hence the generic blue bodysuit you're sporting today. It must qualify as a full costume to your subconscious, though, because donning it flipped Anne and Lea into their ghostly-costume forms. Lea's suit was suddenly covered in various tinkertech-looking armor pieces once you donned your own costume. It was this weird cross between "business woman" and "Viking." It looks ludicrous to you, but you wisely keep that to yourself.

The polite clapping comes at the expected intervals, and PRT bitch yields the floor to Photon Mom. She says a lot of the same PR-friendly nothing and then introduces you. "Just a short while back, we introduced the newest member of New Wave to the world. She was instrumental in coordinating our strike on the Merchants. Without her, this entire operation would not have been possible."

'Or necessary,' you think to Anne and Lea.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to invite her up here to say a few words. Taylor Hebert, but you may also call her…"

Photon Mom introduces you using your new cape name. You can't help but think that having a cape name is kind of ludicrous, but you still agreed with her logic. The idea that even though everyone would know your name, like they do for Vicky and Amy, but would have to call you a different name based on your outfit is just…

Well, you can't help but think "childish." But between the attack on your home and what happened with Fleur, you've agreed to go along with the farce of a "cape identity" and a "civilian identity." You step forward and recite the meaningless speech they gave you, one vetted by the PRT to ensure that it was totally vacuous.

After the conference, you let Sarah know that you need time to decompress. Back at Kurt and Lacey's place, you and Dad just kind of hang out. Food, casual conversation. You try to focus on Pride and Prejudice while he flips through Kurt's magazines.

Anne plants dead cockroaches in Kurt's shoes.

The next morning, you allow yourself to be pulled into Taylor Selection. You take two steps towards your array of four Taylors before suddenly pausing mid-stride. You stumble slightly and your breath catches in your throat.

It's not four Taylors anymore.

It's five.

Standing just to Marceau's left is the Taylor with the ghostly image of Mom behind her. She's now lit up with the same spotlight-level bright white light as the others you can call on.

And now you can get a clear look at the Mom image behind her.

Your brain is reeling.

She wasn't a black and white image… she was a black and white person. Striped. Striped black and white.

Holy fuck that's the Siberian.

What…

What…?

What!?!

What the fuck, what the fuck. Your heart is pounding. You hunch over, resting your hands on your thighs and take deep, calming breaths.

Some time later you're able to calm yourself down. You straighten back up and look carefully.

It's Mom. It's obviously Mom. You studiously keep your eyes on her face, since she's also naked. You have no idea what to make of this. Is this Taylor from a universe where she has a connection to the Siberian? One where she IS the Siberian? Is she a member of the Slaughterhouse 9? Does her universe even have the Slaughterhouse 9? You pace back and forth, your thoughts a furious jumble of emotions, what-ifs, and maybes.

Eventually you straighten and focus your attention on Taylor instead of the Siberian. As with Anne, she looks just like you. She's wearing the same drab grey hoodie and saggy pants you used to wear to school every day for over a year.

Her face is placid, as are all the mannequins. You get no sense that this Taylor is a monster. The connection you feel to her is the same low resonance as any other Taylor.

You steal a quick glance at Mom's face, scrunch your eyes shut, and pull on the connection to this Taylor. Before you can second guess yourself, you pull back from Taylor Selection. You open your eyes and bolt upright from the thin mattress covering of your cot.

'Taylor, who is…?' Anne thinks at you at the new Taylor.

She panics, just like the other ghosts first do. She sees you, then Anne. She takes a step backwards and Mom pops into existence right next to her.

'Stay back!' she barks.

'Oh my god Mom? Mom! Mom!?!' Anne cries out in pain, her arm weakly reaching forward.

'I said stay back!!'

The Siberian projection suddenly darts forward and makes to grab Anne's wrist.

It passes straight through. It pauses for the barest fraction of a second and turns to you, grabbing at your shoulder.

The moment it makes contact with you, it suddenly pops like a soap bubble. The new ghost staggers for a moment and holds a hand to her head.

'What the fuck did you just do? What did you do to me?! Where am I?!?'

You look to Anne and a moment later you feel every insect in a two block radius jittering and vibrating with displaced worry. You can only assume that the rest of the swarm that's outside your perception is also doing a macabre dance, filled with the panic of a dead teenage girl.

She looks to both of you, the Siberian re-appearing at her side. It moves to touch her shoulder and passes through just as it did with Anne. She turns to the projection and grabs at it again and again, seeking the basic comfort of human contact.

The insects dance and dance their panic, offloading the ghost's emotions. You feel some gnats near the house die, their ability to take on such strong emotions completely overloading their simple nervous systems.

'Taylor, please. Please. We're trying to help keep you calm, but you need to listen. Okay? Can you listen? Please?' you begin.

She turns back to you, face stricken with shock and grief and confusion. The Siberian stands just next to her, eyes darting everywhere, making small sniffing noises.

'My name is Taylor Anne Hebert…' you begin, giving her the same basic speech you did after summoning Lea and Worm. As you explain who Anne is, and how your power works, she slowly calms down. You can feel the insects still vibrating with worry, but they're not blowing out their nervous systems anymore.

'But how did I die? What happened? The last thing I remember is falling asleep in my doll's arms,' she says, sounding somewhat bashful near the end there.

Oh.

You deflate at hearing the word "doll."

Anne slumps to the floor.

She's taking it even worse than you are.

You can only imagine that with the extra round of bullying she had to endure after The Locker, to have a sudden hope of talking to Mom again and then have it yanked away was so much more bitterly painful than it is for you.

'So Taylor is that what that is? Just a mindless "doll" that happens to look like Mom?'

'Yeah. She's super-strong and indestructible and does sort of weird things with physics.'

You and Anne glance at each other.

'Taylor, does the name The Siberian mean anything to you?'

She gives you a puzzled look. 'No.'

Oh thank god.

'How about the Slaughterhouse 9?'

She gives you an even more puzzled look. 'Yeah the psychos that roam around small towns murdering people. You have them in this Earth, yeah?'

'Yes. I've got some… bad news.'

You explain the Siberian to her. She's disbelieving at first, but you use the fancy smartphone New Wave gave you to go online and pull up pictures.

She has another low-grade freakout that kills a few gnats, but you manage to calm her down again. By now, her panic capacity seems to be overloaded because when you explain Anne's power to her she just gives a bitter laugh.

'Well I think that explains it. On my Earth there was a super-villain named Swarm who had your exact bug powers and who murdered Alexandria, instead of this "Siberian" killing Hero.'

More strange divergences. At least this Taylor comes from a universe with Scion and Endbringers.

Wait, no, that sounds weird. It's not like you're happy that yet another parallel dimension is suffering under the Endbringers, but it does provide an important touchstone that connects this Taylor to your world.

She says she was planning on calling herself Cheshire but hadn't even managed to go out on her first night heroing yet. She was still recovering from The Locker and using the doll for emotional comfort more than anything else. You all decide to use "Rose" for the projection and suggest that you use "Cheshire" for the new ghost herself.

'I'd much rather have my own actual name. Like you got Anne and that other girl you mentioned got Lea.'

'What do you suggest?'

'Well how about you call me Rose and the doll Cheshire? That also seems more fitting.'

For some reason the idea of calling a copy of you by your Mom's middle name makes you tremendously uncomfortable, but you figure you owe it to… Rose… to help make her feel as at-home as you can.

You wake Dad up and explain the situation with Rose.

You show him Cheshire.

He doesn't take it well.

Choices

Spoiler

A/N:

Spoiler

Last edited: Nov 2, 2017

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BreezyWheeze

Jul 29, 2017

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Threadmarks Story Post 7: Miss Communication

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BreezyWheeze

Aug 5, 2017

#215

"God DAMMIT!" you shout.

'Hey that was pretty good, though,' Rose responds over the continued clatter of two by fours tumbling to the ground.

"Hey at least this time it was just a bin full of scrap wood instead of huge metal poles like the last one," Anne buzzes.

You shake your head in frustration. "Can you bring Cheshire back over here?"

'Nope,' Rose responds, popping the 'p' and giving you an irritating grin. 'I stood her back up and put her right around the corner. See if you can just walk her back out on to the main workshop floor without being able to see her.'

You close your eyes and focus. You really do try as hard as you can, pulling your attention from the two block-or-so radius of Anne's insects that you can feel and just focusing on Cheshire. You can see just fine through its eyes. Its hearing and smell are much sharper than your own, but it doesn't really seem to have a sense of touch. Like, at all. Or like a body-sense or whatever. So when you don't have line of sight on it, you're clumsy as hell moving it around. You've done some pretty serious damage to the unused spaces and junk on the far side of the workshop just trying to move it around.

You once again take control and walk veeery slowly around the edge of a large storage bin until you can lock your own eyes on it. The doll is looking down at its own feet, wobbling along like a toddler or someone blindingly drunk. As soon as you lock your eyes on it, it straightens its posture. Its shoulders relax and its limbs become loose. Its gait is fast and easy.

Truth be told, it feels amazing. So much more than moving around your bugs or your own squishy meat body. Keeping your gaze locked firmly on it, you have it sprint across the space, pushing power into the floor to avoid leaving foot-craters. You leap it forward towards the wall, have it bound off and land with catlike grace in the rafters.

It's taking practice, but you've gotten pretty good at managing the various physics-defying aspects of it.

Again, so long as you can see it.

'It really does feel more natural,' Rose comments.

"I still think that's super-weird," Anne buzzes.

'Maybe it's something to do with the fact that Rose feels like Cheshire is something outside her, whereas for you, Anne, the swarm is you, so to speak?'

You still haven't figured out why one ghost – Anne – would find it intensely strange to have you seize control of her power whereas another – Rose – actually finds it more comfortable for you to control her projection. And then Lea, Marceau and Worm all felt totally neutral about it. Mysteries on top of mysteries. Maybe every cape felt this way a little about their power, and since you kept getting new powers there was just going to be this endless series of little oddities?

'Okay so Cheshire is basically infinitely strong but only moderately fast on the parahuman scale of things. You can move her about as far away as Anne's swarm but I can only really manage her when I can actually see her. And either one of us can only summon her where we can see her. If we're not careful we destroy almost anything we touch simply by virtue of pushing an infinitely strong force through the world, but we can push our invulnerability into anything except our ghosts or me,' you quickly recap what you and Rose have learned today about Cheshire's qualities.

'The real trick is going to be actually using Cheshire to do anything,' you comment.

'What?' 'Yeah no kidding' Rose and Anne respond simultaneously.

'Well, remember what we said about the Slaughterhouse Nine?' you begin.

'Yeah Rose, the thing is The Siberian is instantly recognizable and is probably more infamous than even Jack Slash. She's the only person… the only thing known to have ever hurt Alexandria. If Cheshire starts running around, that stripey look is gonna get us lots and LOTS of unwanted attention.'

'What?'

You pause for a second. Rose is giving you this incredulous look. What's so confusing about this? Cheshire looks like one of the world's most hated monsters how can she not…

'I mean why would we ever send Cheshire out naked like that? Just give her a ski mask and a full body suit?' Rose says it like it's a question, because it seems so obvious that she can't understand why…

"Oh goddammit," Anne buzzes. 'Of course.' She smacks her ghostly head with a ghostly hand.

'I can push invulnerability into clothes. I used to do that all the time before…'

Rose has only had two days to get used to her new condition so she still keeps getting kind of uncomfortable when thinking about her previous life.

"Okay well that's solved," you quickly comment. "We can definitely use Cheshire so long as she's completely 100% covered. Of course, if somehow the clothes get damaged or we need to unsummon her, we're screwed since we can't resummon her elsewhere naked."

"Yeah, that's going to make things tough" Anne buzzes.

For the past two days, your counter has been stuck at 695/700 and you'd really, really like to get another boost of that power. Reflecting on it and discussing it with Anne and Rose you realize that you get more "points" every time something important happens or you accomplish something. A bit of brainstorming and you think the best thing to do is to work as quickly as you can on finishing Panacea's costume. That should count as a sort of "achievement" to get you some more points.

The PRT finally wraps up its investigation and lets you and Dad get back to work on the house. They're also surprisingly prompt with cutting you and Dad a settlement check. You have to sign a zillion things saying your outing wasn't the PRT's fault and a bunch of other legalese but Mr. Carruthers says it's a good deal. More than enough money to fix up the house and such.

You're stuck staying with Kurt and Lacey for almost another month, though, since the contractor says it'll take that long to get everything repaired and structurally sound enough to pass inspection. Hah. Inspection. Brockton Bay can't even stop the frigging sex slave trade, but the housing inspectors are apparently still a force to be reckoned with.

You spend the next week continuing your home school catch-up work and playing around with Rose's and Worm's powers on alternate days. Ever since you "leveled up" yourself, you find that your awareness of your surroundings through Worm's power is pretty phenomenal. It's limited to just a few hundred feet – nothing like Rose's or Anne's range – but you can feel literally everything. It's like having a trillion tiny hands that are touching every surface. No, more than that, touching inside and underneath and through every surface. You can even feel inside Anne's bugs. Like if you wanted to exert the most microscopic force inside the bug's body, you could.

It's a heady feeling.

Anne is devoting a portion of the swarm just to reproduction, which means progress for the first couple of days is slow, but by the end of the week she's able to churn out the last of Panacea's body suit at a faster rate.

'Yeah once we get this first one done, I'm gonna flip over the entire swarm to reproduction,' she informs you. 'A big chunk of time of doing nothing but making more widows and we should be at a point where I can honk out a bodysuit pretty quick.'

She sends huge waves of pride through her link to you while telling you that.

The end of the week finds you in your workshop, facing Vicky, Amy, and Sarah. Vicky keeps glancing around the workshop, a disgusted look on her face.

"Oh man how can you stand the sound?" she asks.

"What sound?" Anne buzzes.

You give a small chuckle. You've long since stopped consciously hearing the low humming chittering noise coming from thousands of insects at work. It's just white noise to you now. But clearly it's bugging Vicky.

Sarah also seems kind of uncomfortable being there. "It's almost tropical in here," she comments. "Do you have to keep it so hot for the bugs?"

"Yeah," you reply. "Actually its not that we have to keep it hot, it's more just that having this much living matter all crammed into the space tends to warm it up. Anne also keeps the bugs working at a much higher than normal rate, so their bodies are generating more heat than bugs ever would naturally."

Their comments prompt you to glance around the place with fresh eyes. Since you've been here through the entire process, you've just gotten used to it. But seeing the endless rows of tanks, hearing the buzzing and heat, and watching the never-ending machine-like march of the bugs across almost every surface it occurs to you that an outsider might be really creeped out seeing it for the first time.

Amy, surprisingly, is totally chill with it, looking at the bugs with almost clinical detachment.

"So, my costume?" she asks, excitement creeping into her voice.

"Yeah, let's try it out," you walk over to the nearest workbench. Anne scatters the widows and cockroaches that had been doing last minute tweaks to the zipper and various seams.

It's still the generic greyish of undyed widow silk, but since it's going to go under her New Wave costume you figure that's fine.

"Here you go!" you walk it over to her.

Amy runs her hands along a sleeve and breathes, "…so smooth…"

"Why don't you go to the little office over in the corner and try it on?"

While Amy's changing, Sarah broaches the subject of patrols: "So, Beacon, we'd like to have you come along for our next scheduled patrol tomorrow night, and get a plan in place for when and where you'd be working with us."

You wonder why the hell she's calling you by your cape name.

Anne must've seen the look on your face, because she gives an amused buzz, "It's because you're in your costume, silly. It is an important habit to get into. While they're in costume, they're Glory Girl and Lady Photon, too."

You duck your head slightly and give a sheepish, "Oh yeah okay, sure."

It really is dumb as hell, but you've gotta play by the rules, even the little ones like code names for outed capes. You resisted at first but explaining the "unwritten rules" with Dad had really brought home to you the importance of boundaries in the cape world. He agreed with them and asked how you'd feel if Mom had been killed the way Fleur was. The memory is still kind of embarrassing. You shouldn't've needed to hear things put in a way that directly affected your family the way it affected New Wave's just in order to agree with the unwritten rules.

You and Lady Photon hash out the details for the next month's worth of activities. Patrols, appearances, etc. It's going to cut into your rogue work making spider silk, for sure. But it's worth it to make sure you're more firmly seen as attached to New Wave to fend off any more incidents.

Amy emerges from the office, practically skipping in delight. "It's soooo comfortable!" she announces. Just as she says that, the counter ticks up past 700 and settles at 705/1500. You feel the now-familiar rush of warmth and tingles that let you know you've got a power-up available.

Vicky and Amy spend a few minutes ooh-ing and aah-ing over the feel of the costume and remarking on what a good fit it is. You crafted it with a hood and a lower face-mask, which will be covered by the red scarf Amy normally wears in her Panacea outfit. She puts the costume back on and you can't tell that anything's different.

"Okay so one last thing we need to do," you begin. "Amy, stand over there and we'll shoot you in the arm."

"WHAT?!" Vicky yells.

"Jeez, it was just a joke," you reply. "But it really is bulletproof."

"And how exactly do you know that, Beacon?" Sarah asks.

Shit. You know that because you provided a small sample to the Undersiders since they said they wanted to do tests that weren't covered by the official analysis. Lisa texted you the next day and said it took three shots with a nine-millimeter pistol in the exact same spot to finally penetrate the silk.

"Umm… happy accident?"

Sarah's not amused. "Taylor!" she barks. "Did something happen? Were you shot?!"

Shit! "No, no sorry I was just joking. I mean not about it being bulletproof. Anne assures me that it is."

A spike of irritation comes from Anne. 'Throwing me under the bus, boss? Nice.'

"Yes, Lady Photon," she buzzes. "It's a really basic calculation based on the kinetic energy imparted by a standard low-caliber slug and the deforming forces involved when compared against the shear modulus of the final woven product, cross-calculated with the bulk modulus of the underlying human flesh, assuming it's not a direct headshot, wherein of course one has to use the tensile strength of flat bone averaged against the shear modulus of non-spicular bone…"

"Okay, okay," Sarah waves her off.

'Goddamn, Anne. Saving the day with techno-babble,' Worm comments to you both.

"So, Taylor, we'll see you tomorrow night for patrol. How long until you can have the next bodysuit ready?"

You turn to Anne.

Her swarm-blob replies, "With Amy's costume… excuse me, with Panacea's costume done as a proof-of-concept, we need to spend the next week or so just on increasing the swarm and optimizing workflow management."

"You need more bugs?!" Vicky looks around incredulously.

"Yes," Anne replies and you can actually hear the irritation in the inhuman buzzing voice for once, "We're only running one hundred seventy thousand, two hundred and five black widows right now and in this space we could easily manage something like one point one million, which would bring our production time down from well over a week to just a couple of days per suit."

They're all just staring at Anne.

Why are they just staring at Anne?

"What?" you ask, the height of intelligence.

"You can manage over a million insects at once?" Panacea asks.

Anne, that smug bitch, grins hugely. "Are you kidding? I'm managing three million, nine hundred seventy-two thousand, six hundred-something right now. The limiting factor here is black widows, not the total insect population. I can feel everything happening in a four-block radius. In fact, if you'd like to kick a little ass while you're here," she turns to Glory Girl, "there's a drug deal going down about three blocks from here. Wanna punch some assholes?"

Vicky is shaken out of her gobsmacked expression. She smiles, "Oh hell yeah!"

"Okay, just follow the arrows," Anne buzzes. You take the cue and use Worm's TK to flip the latch on the door. It swings open, and Anne's got an arrow made out of flies pointing into the air.

Sarah shoots you both a look as Vicky rockets out the door.

"Don't worry, we'll keep an eye on her," you say. Sarah sighs and waves Amy over to her.

"Okay let's go," she mutters to her niece, scooping Amy up into a piggy-back ride.

The next morning you're once again in Taylor Selection deciding what to do with your recent level up. When you first felt the power, you unlocked another active circle. The second time you upgraded yourself and developed much better awareness of your ghosts' powers and found that you had access to Rose, with those other scary-powerful Taylors slightly lit up.

There was only one unexplored option – pushing the power into the ghost itself. You figure that if you're ever going to fully understand things, you need to try this option as well. Your active circle currently has Anne and Worm. You swap out Rose for Worm and stare at both Anne and Rose, considering.

You think it over, but realize you're really just lying to yourself. You're obviously going to push the power into Anne. She was your first ghost, the one that feels the most like you, and she's not just the cornerstone of your budding rogue empire, she's… well, she's your best friend. Your sister. Someone you know you can absolutely rely on. You push the power into her and then back out of Taylor Selection.

Rose and Anne are standing at the foot of your cot. Anne hunches over and groans, gripping her head. She wobbles and falls to the floor.

She disappears.

What the fuck!?

You can still feel her there and can feel her swarm, but she just went completely invisible. You're suddenly struck with a wave of input… you can see the floor where she is, you can hear through a second set of ears…

"Oh Armsmaster… you… fucking… ASSHOLE!" she yells.

"What?!" you jump out of bed, reaching your senses out into the swarm. You feel Rose pop Cheshire in, standing protectively next to you. Your distraction at suddenly being able to see perfectly through Anne's eyes and hear through her ears is bushed away by your concern.

Why would Armsmaster be attacking you? Was he mastered? Secretly a villain agent this whole time?!

Hold.

On.

Anne just…

You turn around and see Anne flickering back into visibility. "Anne…?" you ask.

"Holy crap that was weird," she answers.

'Are we in danger?' Rose asks, cutting straight to the point.

"No, no, sorry, there's no threats anywhere in range," Anne replies.

"Um… so you can talk now?"

"What? Oh… whoa. Um yeah okay so apparently I can talk now?" she replies.

'Well that ain't fair…' Rose grumbles.

"Yeah and you turned invisible."

"Oh. Huh." She pauses for a moment, head tilted. She suddenly flickers out and in a few times. "Yeah, okay, got it. That's weird. Like suddenly discovering an extra hand or something. But yeah it's super-easy."

'Okay so you know how I explained that little counter that I have and how I get extra power periodically,' you switch back to thinking at Anne and Rose since you don't want to disturb the others still sleeping in the house. 'I used power once to let me have two of you out at once and then used the power on myself which let me summon Rose,' they nod their understanding. 'So this time I did the only thing I haven't tried yet and pushed my power into you, Anne.'

You think you caught a hurt expression on Rose's face, but it was gone so fast you're not sure.

'So giving one of you the power lets you talk and turn invisible, and lets me easily see through your eyes, at the very least,' you wrap up.

'What was that about Armsmaster?' Rose says, once again keeping focused on the key issue.

Here Anne pauses. She takes several long breaths.

Silence.

She closes her eyes and takes another deep breath. She then says a sentence that completely shakes you.

'I remember more after the Lung fight.'

You can't even formulate a meaningful reply. So she didn't die? Is she not actually dead? Is she also currently alive in her own home dimension? Is your power completely screwing up a totally innocent Taylor elsewhere by having her soul stolen into this dimension?

'I think I died a little while later.'

Oh.

'So I survived the Lung fight because the Undersiders in my own dimension intervened. They saved my life. And then Armsmaster showed up and he took credit for taking down and capturing Lung. And I told him I wanted to be a hero but that the Undersiders had a secret mastermind backer. I decided to go undercover with them to find out who their backer was.

'Armsmaster was this enormous douche about the whole thing, even when I told him I just needed to do one more job to finally get in good enough with them to uncover the mastermind.'

'I'm sure Marceau would say something snarky about being surprised that you really are a hero,' you comment.

Anne gives you an unimpressed look.

'So what happened?' Rose prompts.

'The boss told us to rob a bank. We had to make a big splashy show of it. I'm not sure why, but I was working really really hard to make sure nobody got hurt. The last thing I remember is Kid Win flying on his hoverboard teleporting in this enormous scary tinkertech cannon thing and the glow as he powered it up.

'I think I must've died when he shot it. Killed by a goddamn Ward,' she muses bitterly.

'Wait but before you thought you were killed by Lung?' I ask.

'This feels… different,' she replied. 'More complete, or something. Before my memory was super-hazy near the end there. I couldn't remember specific details of the Lung fight and just had this image in my head of his scaly face and fire-covered torso that just kind of fades out to black. But I can remember the bank heist really well. Tons of little details. And it's not just a casual fade-out, it's like there's this really sharp divide in my memory, where Kid Win was powering up his cannon-thing and then… poof. No more Skitter.'

'Who?'

'Oh, Skitter. That was the name they gave me as a bug-themed villain.'

'But you just said you'd only fought Lung before doing the bank job. How did they know you were a villain? Who gave you the name Skitter?'

Anne seems caught up short for a second. 'Huh. You know, I can't remember. I know for a fact my name was Skitter but… I dunno.'

'Well, you're Anne to us,' you push as much reassurance and love into your words as you can.

She gives you a smile, still puzzling over the name.

Back at the workshop that day, you find that Anne can now get almost a block and a half from you, and she comments that she feels like her control over the swarm is slightly more precise. When she tries making a body to talk it ends up actually looking like a human silhouette instead of just a vaguely human-sized blob of bugs. Her actual range hasn't changed, though, nor can she suddenly control things besides bugs.

You still can only get little flashes of seeing or hearing through Rose, but now that Anne's gotten a boost, you find that you're seeing and hearing through her as easily if they were your own senses. Even weirder, it's not a strain in the slightest. Like you'd been born with it… what did Anne say? Like discovering a new hand? Strange at first to have the additional sense, but then every bit as natural as a part of your own body.

Glory Girl shows up that evening to pick you up for your first patrol. You're going out with her, Shielder, and Lady Photon to chaperone.

Glory Girl walks into the workshop and once again gives a big, theatrical shudder as she looks around. "God, I'll never get used to this creepy-crawly place," she insists.

She glances over at you, "Hey Taylor, Anne, Lea," she nods to you and your ghosts.

Huh… she thinks Rose is Lea. A moment's reflection and it makes sense – Rose doesn't look sickly-thin like Worm does and isn't in the mime clothing that Marceau always wears. Should you explain it to her?

'Hey for now just play along. We just wanna do our first patrol without incident and explaining Cheshire is gonna be complicated,' Anne suggests. Rose nods her agreement.

Vicky scoops you up and starts heading out the door when you realize there's a problem.

"Oh hey wait. Anne and R… Lea can't fly."

"Can't you just resummon them as we move along then?"

"No sorry it doesn't work like that. I kinda have to stay within a block or so of them and even though they look like ghosts, they're not like spooky flying ghosts. They just walk."

"Or we can run," Anne offers, "and we don't really get tired like people would."

"Whoa, she talks!" Vicky exclaims.

"Yeah I talk!" Anne smiles at her. "We're all still figuring things out with our powers and Taylor's powers and stuff. Maybe it's because I was the first ghost and have spent the most time out or something."

"Okay so this isn't gonna be a flying patrol then…" Vicky thinks aloud.

"We can ride in a car," Anne suggests.

After some quick texts back and forth, the plan is modified to more of a slow, floating patrol with Anne and Rose jogging along the ground rather than a faster flying patrol than had originally been planned.

A short while later, you find yourself bopping along about three stories up, with Lady Photon and Shielder just off to your sides, with you ridding piggy-back on Glory Girl. True to your expectations, neither Anne nor Rose get tired at all, and are able to run along at their top speed without getting winded.

You're patrolling a relatively safe area on the boundary between the Empire's territory and the niche downtown that Coil has carved out.

Damn this is boring.

Oh! Some guys!

Wait, no. It was just some guys staggering out of a bar. None of them are showing E88 colors or anything.

"Is it always this…" you start.

Vicky laughs. "Yeah. Most patrols are actually really boring."

"I mean Anne isn't even picking up anything with her bugs. As fast as we're moving her coverage is pretty terrible but still…"

Lady Photon overhead a bit of what you were saying and floats closer and waves a hand for everyone to slow down to a sedate walking pace. You ask Anne and Rose to continue their running pace but to do little trips down alleyways and such in between keeping up with you and the rest of New Wave.

"As bad a reputation as our fair city has," Lady Photon says, "things are usually pretty quiet, especially in the part of the city that the PRT designates for us to patrol. Probably 95% or more of our patrols see no action at all."

"Then why bother?" you can't help but ask.

"Have you heard about the Broken Windows theory?" Shielder picks up the thread of the conversation.

You shake your head.

"The idea is that if a house has broken windows, then people unconsciously react to that by thinking it's a crappy neighborhood and that it's more socially acceptable to like break other windows or do bad things. But if everything looks really nice then people, even criminals, are more likely to think like 'oh this is a nice neighborhood, this isn't the place where home break-ins happen' and so they actually do less crime."

"Really?" you can't keep the skepticism out of your voice.

"Yes, it's actually a real thing that's been tested and proven true in multiple cities," Lady Photon replies. "A big part of the patrolling that New Wave, the Protectorate, and even the Wards do is about visibility. It's not just PR or a waste of time. When people see heroes in a neighborhood somewhat regularly, there's actually less crime. Would you rather catch someone after they've hurt someone committing an assault or robbery, or would you rather prevent the robbery in the first place?" she asks you pointedly.

"Okay, yeah," you concede.

"So one other thing I wanted to talk about," she changes gears. "We need to do some more serious testing with Lea's power boosting. Panacea has been kind of non-specific about what Lea did to her, but I think if we're going to practice team synergies and figure out how to respond to various threats, we need a much better feel on how Lea can boost each of us and what happens when you borrow powers like you borrowed some of Glory Girl's flight that night."

Oh. "Um… okay so how about we set up time this coming week?" you begin.

"Oh, oh, oh, I wanna try!" Vicky chirps out. "Can we try a boost right now?"

Your panic is interrupted by Vicky's phone ringing. Not a moment later, Lady Photon's phone starts buzzing as well.

"Ames?" Vicky asks just as Lady Photon is snapping her phone open and seeing the text there.

She looks to you sharply, "Quick, Beacon, boost Glory Girl, maybe she can fly faster to the hospital!"

"I can't!" you wail. She gives you an irritated and confused look but doesn't pause.

"Glory Girl, go, now!"

Vicky plops you on the roof of the building you were hovering over, and rockets off, phone still pressed tightly to her ear.

You shoot your eyes back and forth between Shielder and Lady Photon. Lady Photon says quickly, "We'll discuss this later. Right now there's a group of men attacking the hospital and they're on some sort of lockdown. Shielder, you stay with Beacon and make your way to the hospital as quickly as you can. I'm going there now," and without pausing for reaction she flies off at a fraction of Glory Girl's speed.

You mentally explain everything to Anne and Rose. They're alarmed, but Anne comments that Panacea's not in any real danger.

'So we shouldn't worry? All those doctors and nurses and patients and you're just thinking, "Oh well Panacea's gonna be okay, so no big?"'

'That's not fair, Rose, and you know it. Of course I don't want anyone else hurt, but…' she's interrupted by you and Eric coming down to street level.

"Okay guys so you can run almost as fast as Shielder can fly and you're not slowed down by silly things like walls so we're just gonna make a straight line for the hospital," you say aloud, mostly for Eric's benefit.

"You sure Lea can't boost me?" Eric asks.

"Uh… yeah sorry my power's been really weird for the past few days. Like Anne can talk now and stuff but today Lea's social lines and their Trump power have been kinda off-kilter," you evade.

Eric's either too distracted or too oblivious to notice your concern. He scoops you up in his arms again and starts rising in the air.

You feel a small squirt of jealousy from Anne.

You would've expected it to take a long time to get to the hospital at a running pace, but you wildly underestimated how fast you could move when you were going in perfectly straight lines and didn't have to worry about things like traffic. Or buildings.

You're halfway through the trip in under ten minutes when Eric's and your phones buzz simultaneously. You stop on a roof and check – a group text to all of New Wave from Sarah.

Lady Photon: All clear. Dumb druggies trying to raid pharmacy. No paras. Hx sec and BBPD contained it before I got here.

Eric starts texting back when another message comes in

Glory Girl: Holy shit guys it really is bulletproof!

Your eyes widen in alarm.

Glory Girl: Idiots were firing all over hit Ames in side of her leg shes got a badass bruise forming and a hole in robes but is okay.

720/1500

Brandish: Debrief ASAP

Manpower: Aw, no cool battle scars?

Lady Photon: GG, PAN, SH, LP, BCN to Dallons for dbf.

Rose looks down at the screen and radiates amusement. Of course they use acronyms or whatever for faster communication, but for some reason Rose thinks it's funny to read "BCN" as bacon instead of Beacon.

'Pork debrief!' she decides to share with the group. Or with you and Anne anyway.

The actual incident turns out to be every bit as anticlimactic as Lady Photon's initial text suggested. Some dregs left over from the Merchants got the bright idea to raid the hospital's on-site pharmacy. Security was well on the way to containing them when they decided to open fire. Meth and good aim don't seem to mix and they put holes in the walls instead of in people. Amy was rushing there to patch up anyone who got hurt, which is how she ended up catching a round in the side of her thigh.

In a matter of seconds the hospital police offers had everyone contained and Amy healed up the one nurse who got shot in the chest. The debrief quickly broke down into the kids all marveling over Amy's enormous new bruise and singing the praises of your body suit.

"I wasn't kidding when I said you could sell those things for tens of thousands of dollars," Sarah reminds you.

The issue of testing Lea's boosting comes up again, and you deflect with the same evasiveness you'd used earlier. It didn't take a social thinker power for you to realize that both Carol and Sarah were deeply skeptical.

After less than an hour, Lady Photon wraps things up and says she'll fly you back to the workshop to get your stuff and then escort you home.

"So we need to talk," you begin, once you are settled back at the workshop.

"Yes, Beacon, we do," Sarah replies flatly.

"Um, I'm just gonna start with the really big thing first, okay? And then we can talk about the details?" you can't help but phrase it as a question.

She nods.

"Okay so that's not Lea," you nod towards Rose.

"Mmm-hmm."

Damn. That's the same tone Mom used to give you when you…

You shake your head slightly to stop painful reminisces.

"Her name is Rose."

Rose gives a little wave.

"Hello Rose," Sarah replies, all frosty civility.

"And she's the Siberian."

Sarah's head whips to you.

"That's not funny, Taylor," she rebukes.

"No I'm serious. You can't freak out, okay. Promise me you'll stay calm. She's got a projection that is The Siberian, but it's not actually the Siberian, Rose is in total control of it and even I can control it when I have line of sight and it's not actually the Siberian," you repeat. You feel yourself babbling, "We call her Cheshire and she actually looks like Mom," you voice cracks slightly, "but she's all stripey and infinitely strong and…"

Here you trail off and just pull on Rose's power, summoning Cheshire at your side.

Lady Photon gasps, darts backwards in the air and forms a bubble of shield around herself.

You have Cheshire smile and wave. "This is just a projection, like I said," you have it say in Mom's voice.

You quickly have Cheshire launch into the Y-M-C-A dance while mumbling barely-remembered lyrics. "Young man… something blah de blah blah…"

Sarah shudders. She's not amused.

"Can you dismiss… it?" she asks from the air.

You do so.

She drops the shield and settles back down next to you. She gives you an expectant look.

"Okay let's sit down cause this is gonna take a sec," you head over to the couch.

You explain your power as best you can, holding back nothing. Sarah nods along, less fazed than you'd expect. She does seem very unhappy with you, though.

"Taylor is that everything? I need you to swear absolutely to me that you've told me everything. Any more surprises like this and…

"New Wave's entire philosophy is built on honesty and accountability," she sees your mouth open starting to object and just rides right over you: "I'm not saying we actually advertise everything you can do. That would be foolish and dangerous. We'll need to play things very tight to the chest with how your power works.

"But at the very least Carol and I need absolute, full disclosure. If we're going to work with you, even as an affiliate, we need to know what you can do. What your powers actually are, their limits and their… consequences."

Your head is hanging. You can't even meet her eyes. You feel more shame and embarrassment at having mislead and lied to her than you did over anything that ever happened at Winslow.

Photon Mom, indeed.

"Yes that's absolutely everything as far as I understand it."

"And do you swear to me that as you discover new facets of your power, you'll share them with me?"

"Yeah."

"Okay.

"Okay," she lets out a small huff.

"Okay I think I'm ready to deal with," she pauses, "Cheshire now. Go ahead and summon her again."

Cheshire pops into existence in front of you both.

You see a tiny wave of goosebumps form on Sarah's arms.

"That is… uncanny," she comments.

"How do you think I feel? She looks like my dead mother wearing the skin of The Siberian."

Sarah turns to you, her eyes soft with concern. "Oh Taylor, honey. Oh god, I'm so sorry."

She scoots over on the couch and wraps you in a hug.

You stay like that for awhile.

A bit later, having shown Sarah how Cheshire works, she broaches a subject you hadn't even considered: "We need to show her to the PRT. If there's any chance that the actual Siberian works this way, that she's a projection instead of a parahuman, this could be huge in taking down the Slaughterhouse Nine."

At the idea of working with PRT at all, Anne can't help but keep her anger from radiating into you and the swarm.

Man, she really doesn't like the Wards or Armsmaster. Not that you can blame her, really.

"Yeah, but, I mean. I don't trust them. They seem so incompetent, how can we be sure they'll be able to keep this secret?"

Sarah considers for a moment. "Taylor honey I know your first experience with them was really awful. Normally they're not that bad, they really aren't. Tell you what, I'll contact them and say I've learned the information from a confidential source and I won't tell them anything else, okay?"

You appreciate her efforts to placate you.

"With that settled, we do need to figure out how to best have Rose and Cheshire work as heroes, patrols, and so on. A projection with an enormously strong Brute and Breaker power would make for an enormous advantage against the villains," she thinks aloud.

"Yeah we were thinking of covering her entirely in a costume that she pushes her invulnerability in to," Anne offers.

"But the problem is, what if something happens?" you say. "Even the slightest mistake and if she's seen in the city, everyone will go nuts. They'll assume she's The Siberian and then what if reports of a Siberian copy actually get out and Jack Slash finds out."

Sarah's face goes completely still. "Ah."

"Yeah, exactly. I'm even kind of scared just testing with her here in my workshop and in the empty building next door." At the words "my workshop" you're hit with another stab of guilt. You haven't actually told Photon Mom everything. Not about your agreement with The Undersiders, how they bankrolled this purchase, and you're going to make them costumes, or about how you found two security cameras pointed inwards on your first day here, but Anne chewed through their power cables with cockroaches immediately.

You rationalize to yourself that she asked for full and complete disclosure about your power, not about everything that's going on with your life.

"Okay so I agree that caution is the smart move here. Plus we really do want to test things out with Lea's Trump power, so maybe for the next few days, you can call out Lea and Anne?" she suggests.

"And as for the PRT, let's just explain that you're still coming to understand your powers. Trumps are both rare and often more complicated than other cape powers, well except for maybe Tinkers," she considers. "So we'll simply explain that you have two ghosts now each of whom has their own powers. You think there may be more but you're not sure."

"Which power should we show them in addition to Anne's swarm?" you ask.

"Lea's social Thinker power was essential for tracking down the Merchants and Director Piggot has been hassling me for a more complete report on the encounter. So let's go with that."

You nod, "Yeah and Lea wanted to meet the Wards anyway."

Disgust from Anne.

Two days later and you find yourself at PRT headquarters, being lead on a tour around the place by Gallant. Vicky's floating along with you, Anne and Lea trailing behind.

Gallant pauses as you're leaving the PRT's power testing facility. "Beacon, is everything okay? I'm sorry you just seem really uncomfortable." He looks to Anne and Lea.

Actually, he's been glancing to both of them almost constantly. He's not wrong – you are really uncomfortable. Not from anything he's been saying or doing. It's all been boring, generic PR-approved crap. The kind of "behind the scenes" tour that anyone could get if they either pay a bunch of money or have connections. You're uncomfortable because Anne has been radiating a mix of anger and disgust at you while Lea is a huge pulsing orb of nostalgia, regret, and warm feelings.

"Oh, sorry. No, it's really nothing. I'm just… uh… distracted because when we left this morning to come here I was in the middle of a big project at my spider silk workshop and I keep thinking about it and making more costumes and uh… yeah…" you finish lamely.

He considers for a moment and just nods. "Okay well let's move on to the Wards common room and introduce you to everyone."

You borrow Lea's power for a bit and push it forward to inspect Gallant. You see the huge pulsing pink line between Glory Girl and Gallant.

Oh.

Well, okay.

So he's Dean what's-his-face, the rich kid that Vicky's dating.

You pass through a tinkertech elevator and a door-thingy that pauses to let everyone get their masks on.

As you step in, your attention wanders for a sec and your focus on Lea's power snaps back to yourself. You see the ever-so-slight beginnings of blue lines forming between you and the Wards except for a shockingly pure red-orange line of anger pointing to… you turn your head…

Shadow Stalker.

What the fuck.

You stop cold in your tracks, staring at her.

A moment of pregnant silence fills the room.

Gallant's head whips to Shadow Stalker's then back to you. "Beacon? Everything okay?"

You shake yourself and reply, "Yeah, yeah okay. Sorry, my powers are really weird and sometimes I get kinda confused or lost in them. Thinker powers, you know."

The Wards all nod in agreement. It's something of a joke among parahumans how spacey Thinkers and Tinkers can get.

Your mind is churning a mile a minute. Why the fuck does Shadow Stalker hate you? What's going on with her… is she secretly a member of the Merchants? Oh god, that has to be it. She must actually be a secret double-agent for a villain team and she's already got an antagonist relationship with you. That's the only thing that makes sense.

You try to keep it together and be polite with the Wards. You shake hands, agree that it would be totally cool if they could all get silk costumes like Panacea's. You explain how Anne and Lea are both independent people and that Lea is a huge fangirl of the Wards, which amuses Vista to no end.

Shortly after you shake her hand, Shadow Stalker says something to Aegis and leaves. You watch as her orange line heads up out of the building and slowly grows more attenuated.

'Taylor c'mon please lets do some power-boosting, please,' Lea pesters you.

You sigh your agreement.

Lea starts by boosting Vista.

"Whoa. Whoa! WHOOOOAA!!" she hops up an down and then suddenly teleports across the room. "This is SO COOL!" she cries out. She's suddenly popping back and forth across the large, open space of the Wards common room.

"Holy crap, short stack, you can teleport now?!" Clockblocker exclaims.

"No, it's not actually teleporting. I'm kind of like… tunneling through space. I'm not just folding it, or I dunno I am still folding it but I'm like completely scrunching it up and making like a hole," she keeps talking while zipping around the room faster than your eyes can follow.

You can just feel Anne rolling her eyes, radiating her disapproval.

You spend the next few minutes watching the Wards all dive through Vista's hole (get your mind out of the gutter, Anne!)

"We have to go on the roof and try this outside!" Vista insists.

"No wait, hold on, I wanna see what my boost does," Clockblocker interrupts.

Before you can get any further, Armsmaster comes tromping in to the room. He catches the tail end of Aegis flying through one of Vista's warp points and bonking his head into the wall, hard.

Vista busts out cackling. "hahahaha… I… heh..moved it right before you went in and…" she can barely catch her breath.

Lea's falling over herself laughing.

"Exactly what is going on here!" Armsmaster says sharply.

Lea straightens back up, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Oh my god, Armsmaster this is so cool!" Vista practically yells. "Beacon's ghost Lea can boost powers and when she boosts me I can create like wormholes through space it's so…"

Armsmaster looks to you. "You've been using an untested unapproved Trump effect on the Wards!?"

"Just Vista," you mumble.

"Vista, submit yourself to level 1 M/S screening immediately."

Silence fills the room.

"Uh, what?!" Clockblocker says.

"Now!

"Glory Girl, please leave the facility. Beacon, come with me," he snaps.

Before you can react, Anne interrupts, "Hey no way, fuck you and your fucking face, Halbeard."

You've never felt such anger before. Everyone pauses at Anne speaking aloud for the first time.

"Anne, please, now's not the time," you try to interject.

It's too late. Armsmaster has turned towards Anne. "Beacon, control your projection now."

"I'm not a projection I'm a person you fucking asshole. You self-righteous piece of shit. You glory-seeking lying SHITHEAD!"

You can feel the bugs in the wall begin to stir. This is getting out of hand, fast.

"Anne! STOP!" you command. You seize control of all the insects you can feel and force them into absolute stillness.

She goes completely rigid and turns to you, looking completely betrayed. 'Please, Anne, I'm so sorry but now is not the time or place.'

Her response is complete silence.

"I'm sorry for Anne's behavior, Armsmaster. Can you please just explain to us what's going on so we can understand?"

His jaw is still clenching and unclenching and you can see little rigid twitches to his posture. He did not like being called a "glory-seeking shithead" by a teenage girl.

"Beacon," he says through clenched teeth. "Trump powers are very often associated with intentional or unintentional Master effects. We have no record on file of you having Trump powers that can affect other capes. Until we've tested and approved it, you are not to use your power…"

"Lea's power," you interrupt.

He grinds his jaw even more. "…Lea's power on any Ward or Protectorate member, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," you reply.

"We need to run Vista through a level 1 screening. Gallant, please report to Lieutenant Fromme to assist. And Beacon, I'm going to need to conduct level 2 power assessment and interaction assessment on you immediately."

Anne has calmed down, but she is still radiating a stony fury both at you and Armsmaster.

The line connecting you to him is still solidly blue and not at all tinged with the orange or red you would've expected. Instead, there are huge yellow blobs coming down the line your way. He's clearly very concerned right now, but still sees you as an co-worker. You shift your sight to him.

Holy shit. He's really, really mad at Anne. He looks like a hedgehog of blue lines pointing all over the PRT headquarters. Not a green one in the bunch that you can see. Tons of little pulses of yellow concern or vaguely orange-tinged aggression. You look closer and see lots and lots of very faint orange lines as well. Makes sense that he'd have a longstanding adversarial relationship with most of the big players in the city's gangs.

Your line-sight flickers for a second and snaps back to you with no conscious decision on your part. You feel a sense of fatigue and Lea complains, 'Ugh, ow. My head…'

Power-boosting followed by closely inspecting others seems to've been too much for her power.

The rest of the afternoon is completely uneventful and filled with tons of weird technical tests you don't really understand. They're really unhappy when you tell them Lea's power is almost completely tapped out, so you can only do a bit more power-boosting in really small doses. Armsmaster is almost shaken out of his stern disapproval when he feels the effect of Lea's boost.

By the end of the day, Anne still isn't speaking with you.

The next morning, you call out Marceau and head back to the workshop.

'Whoa! Holy crap! How long was I out?' she asks upon seeing all the progress you've made with the weaving swarm.

"It's been almost two weeks," Anne replies.

Oh, so she's willing to talk to Marceau, but not you. God. Bitch.

'Holy crap crap! You can talk!'

"Yeah, Taylor used her energy-thing to give me an upgrade."

You decide discretion is the better part of valor and silently head over to the workshop's small office to do homeschool work. You can feel as Anne explains the events of the past week and a half to Marceau and shows off her invisibility power.

Since you can now see and hear almost perfectly out of Anne, you can't help but overhear as she gives a very biased recounting of yesterday's events. Marceau suggests that since you had to put up with all of that to let Lea talk with the Wards, the least you could do is arrange a visit to the Undersiders as well.

Huh. You're already intensely uncomfortable having such an open relationship with a villain group, but if it'll get Anne speaking with you again…

Choices!

Spoiler

Last edited: Nov 3, 2017

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BreezyWheeze

Aug 5, 2017

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BreezyWheeze

Aug 8, 2017

#253

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Topic: OMG SIBERIAN IN BB

In: Boards Places America Brockton Bay General

EyesPrivates (Original Poster)

Posted on April 7, 2011:

Oh my god oh my god oh my god.

I was out in the northeast docks. My brother's a huge junkie and I was looking for him to bring him back for his fourth rehab. For just a sec I stuck my head into a warehouse and i saw the MOTHERFUCKING SIBERIAN. Naked, stripey, everything. She was just like jumping around inside the warehouse. I like froze in panic and she just kind of kept running around would periodically get all woozy and stumble.

I saw her fall straight through a support pillar and suddenly disappear. I came to my sense and GTFO.

GUYS THE S9 IS IN BROCKTON! I reported it to the PRT and they just blew me off!!!!!!!

(Showing Page 1 of 23)

Peelyface

Posted on April 7, 2011:

What are you smoking and can I get some?

Clockblocker (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)

Posted on April 7, 2011:

I find that hard to believe, since they would've told us. Plus, you know, the S9 basically never come this far east and last time they showed up in Brockton Bay, the Marquis single handedly drove them out after they fought the Teeth.

Om-Shanti (Cape Groupie)

Posted on April 7, 2011:

Um… what? What?!?! WHAT!!!!!!!! WTF WHAT????????????????

Bagrat (Guy in the know)

Posted on April 7, 2011:

Completely false. See most recent updates in the S-class threads. Siberian along with the rest of the sickos were last spotted this morning more than halfway across the country: [Link]

Either the Siberian now has continent-wide teleportation powers and used them to teleport to the east cost just to wreck an empty warehouse and then teleported back to North Dakota, or OP is full of crap.

Shame on you, man. That kind of shit can start riots and actually hurt people. It's not just "lulz trolled, u mad bro" this crap has consequences in real life.

Clockblocker (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)

Posted on April 7, 2011:

Yeah, see, toldja.

QuisCustodiet (Moderator)

Posted on April 7, 2011:

Okay everyone, locking the thread. Bagrat's post is pretty definitive. I'll give @@EyesPrivate the benefit of the doubt and assume he was drunk or seeing things or something and not that he's intentionally trying to start a riot in our city. One month ban but I won't permanently lock your account.

Think next time. If you already called the PRT, then there's no need to create a panic via PHO.

PRO/PRT OFFICIAL COMMUNICATION

FORM AC-217: AFFILIATE CAPE COMMUNICATION SUMMARY AND FIRST-PASS ANALYSIS

FILED BY: PIGGOT, E.

SENT TO: OFFICE OF THE CHIEF DIRECTOR, PRT

cc: PIGGOT, E.; COSTA-BROWN, R; OFFICE OF PROTECTORATE LEADER ENE; ARMSMASTER; OFFICE OF INTERNAL OVERSIGHT; LEGAL AFFAIRS OFFICE; NONPROTECTORATE PARAHUMAN CONTACT ARCHIVES; WEDGDG

DATE INCIDIENT: 2011-04-09

DATE FILED: 2011-04-09

PROPERTY DAMAGE ESTIMATE LEVEL: N/A

VIOLENCE LEVEL: N/A

PROTECTORATE MEMBERS INVOLVED: N/A

PRT OFFICERS INVOVLED: Piggot, E., Director

NON-PROTECTORATE PARAHUMANS INVOLVED: Lady Photon

PROTECTORATE FATALITIES: N/A

PRT FATALITIES: N/A

NON-PROTECTORATE PARAHUMAN FATALITIES: N/A

NON-PARAHUMAN PARTICIPANT FATALITIES: N/A

BYSTANDER FATALITIES: N/A

FATALITY ATTRIBUTION(S): N/A

COMMUNICATION SUMMARY: PRT Director Piggot received an email (see #221187) communication indicating that New Wave leader Lady Photon (see dossier #658971) had come into intelligence indicating that The Siberian may be a projection rather than a parahuman. Lady Photon was unwilling, during follow-up phone consultation, to disclose anything about the nature of the source of this information and said only that she had "high confidence" in the quality of the information (see recording A#5828527).

FIRST-PASS ANALYSIS: WEDGDG Thinkers have already hypothesized with 19% likelihood that The Siberian is either a Master projection or Tinkertech creation. This new information is thus not new and of no great concern. Lady Photon has been an active hero long enough to have well-developed contacts in the parahuman community and thus it is unsurprising that a person would have passed this information to her. Report merits only level 1 review by WEDGDG filter software VIs.

Director Costa-Brown leaned back in her chair and let out a low sigh. The physical act of sighing provided no particular relief, of course, as she was incapable of feeling the kind of physical tension that would even necessitate relief. But, old habits die hard.

It had been quite some time since she'd had occasion to review the files on New Wave, and she did so now. She cocked at eyebrow at the summary of their newest member. A Trump? And not just a Trump, but one whose own power repertoire had recently expanded to include a power that could boost other capes? How had this not come to her attention sooner?

It was blindingly obvious, of course, that this new Trump must have stumbled on a Thinker power that revealed The Siberian's true nature to her. It would merit investigation. She made a mental note to pass the issue along to Doctor Mother, while composing an excoriating note to Piggot for failing to appropriately apply a priority flag to information relating to a new, potentially high-power, Trump.

"And what was your mistake, Victor?"

"Failing to recognize how quickly New Wave would accept a non-family member into the fold."

"Incorrect.

"What was your mistake, Victor?"

Victor shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Most of the other Empire capes were in attendance. Their expressions ranged from Hookwolf's feral joy at watching Victor be publicly cut down, to Rune's indifference and, of course, his own Othala's deep lines of worry.

"Failing to directly confront the girl's father at his place of business to immediately bring home to him the danger his daughter was now in."

Kaiser gave a low sigh that echoed slightly in his metal helmet.

"Incorrect.

"One more try, Victor. Do not disappointment me. What was your mistake?"

Victor wracked his brain. What did Kaiser want to hear? His actual mistakes were the two he'd just listed. They were elementary miscalculations that were obvious in hindsight. Kaiser himself had initially suggested that he…

Ah, of course.

"Constructing my own plan rather than immediately deferring to your judgment, Kaiser."

The tiniest of nods.

"As punishment, your territory will have an additional 10% of revenues added to its contribution burden for the next three months. In addition, the next time a candidate of appropriate stock shows him- or herself in the city, you will once again be tasked with recruitment. If you fail me again, if you fail The Empire, the punishment will be a fair sight worse that mere money.

"Do I make myself clear, Victor?"

"Yes, sir. Absolutely, sir."

PRO/PRT PARAHUMAN ANALYSIS

FORM PA-112b: PARAHUMAN ANALYSIS (addendum)

FILED BY: GALLANT (WAR#654987)

SENT TO: OFFICE OF THE DIRECTOR, PRT ENE

cc: PIGGOT, E.; OFFICE OF PROTECTORATE LEADER ENE; ARMSMASTER; OFFICE OF INTERNAL OVERSIGHT; LEGAL AFFAIRS OFFICE; NONPROTECTORATE PARAHUMAN CONTACT ARCHIVES; OFFICE OF THE ARCHIVES; OFFICE OF PARAHUMAN SCIENCE

DATE INCIDIENT: 2011-04-05

DATE FILED: 2011-04-05

PROPERTY DAMAGE ESTIMATE LEVEL: N/A

VIOLENCE LEVEL: N/A

PROTECTORATE MEMBERS INVOLVED: GALLANT (WAR#654987)

PRT OFFICERS INVOVLED: N/A

NON-PROTECTORATE PARAHUMANS INVOLVED: BEACON (AP#8897412)

PROTECTORATE FATALITIES: N/A

PRT FATALITIES: N/A

NON-PROTECTORATE PARAHUMAN FATALITIES: N/A

NON-PARAHUMAN PARTICIPANT FATALITIES: N/A

BYSTANDER FATALITIES: N/A

FATALITY ATTRIBUTION(S): N/A

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY: Emotion-sensing power detected unique emotional signatures for the Master projection "Anne" and the Master projection "Lea" created by parahuman Beacon (see dossier AP#8897412). Some two-way communication seemed to occur between Beacon and each Master projection, but no more so than two particularly in-tune normal humans (such as between, for example, a long-married couple). Mp Anne exhibited a range of negative emotions relating to the PRT and Wards. In an encounter with Armsmaster (see #3218/94) she displayed deeply powerful feelings of anger and betrayal.

Mp Lea showed warmth, fondness, and nostalgia while in the PRT facility and respect towards Armsmaster. In particular, Lea showed emotions typical of well-established friendship towards all Wards ENE except Shadow Stalker, and a romantic interest towards Clockblocker (WAR#654971).

ANALYSIS: Beacon, Mp Anne, and Mp Lea all maintain that the projections are independent persons. The emotional auras on display align with the interpretation of them being sentient or semi-sentient independent persons. No hypothesis is available for the longstanding emotional reactions Mp Anne or Mp Lea had in relation to the Wards given that this was their first real interactions with the group.

"I'm sorry, Mr. aahhh…"

"Just Coil, will do, Mr. Alcott."

"I'm sorry, Coil, this is all just a little much to take in at once."

"I certainly understand Mr. Alcott, Mrs. Alcott. Perhaps a small demonstration would help?"

The Alcotts looked to each other, worry passing in a glance. Mr. Alcott nodded at the supervillain seated at their dining room table.

Or rather, he'd thought the man a supervillain. He spun a story of himself as some sort of rogue acting more like a secret vigilante, pushing back the Empire while adopting the guise of a villain. Mr. Alcott was still wrapping his head around that fact when Coil had dropped his next bombshell.

Mrs. Alcott called up the stairs, "Dinah, honey, can you come down here now, please?"

A twelve year old girl, her face etched with more worry than would be appropriate for someone twice her age, made her way slowly down the stairs. She locked her eyes on Coil's masked face and paused for a moment. She then slowly made her way into the dining room and sat herself next to her mother.

"Dinah, my dear, if I take no particular action towards you, what are the odds you will be kidnapped by Accord within the next month?"

"I don't know who that is."

With barely a pause, Coil turned to the soldier standing at attention behind him. A small wave and the soldier produced a manila folder. Coil pulled a large, glossy photo featuring a man in an intricate mask and immaculate suit.

"98.713% that man will kidnap me in the next month if you do nothing."

Mr. Alcott let out an exclamation just as his wife gasped.

Coil held up a placating hand. "Just a few more questions, Dinah, do you think you can handle that?"

She gave a slow nod, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

"If you go to the PRT and join the Wards, what are the odds you will be kidnapped within the next month?"

"86.116%"

"If you leave the city and try to hide?"

"99.928%"

"If you try to join New Wave as a hero?"

"43.333%"

"If you join my new group of independent heroes, the Guardians?"

"1.216%"

As the relentless drive of numbers showed Dinah's fate, Mr. and Mrs. Alcott became more and more distraught. Then, at 1% they both snapped their heads to Coil.

"Just so. As I said, I've already foiled one kidnapping attempt by Accord. He knows me well enough and understands how my own Thinker power cancels out his own. Should Dinah join my team, she would be even safer than she would with any of her other options."

Mrs. Alcott began wiping the tears from her face, lightly smearing her mascara across her prominent cheekbones. "But it's so dangerous, even for the heroes, how will you keep Dinah safe?"

Under his mask, Coil smiled. The battle was already over.

"We're hitting a payroll shipment."

"What the fuck, Tats? Don't people get paid by check these days? What're we the Jesse James gang?" Alec retorted hotly.

"Yeah, Lisa, I'm not getting this. Even if the transport does have cash, it can't be much. What's going on?" Brian asked.

"Look, what can I tell you? The Boss wants the job done. I know he technically gives us the right to refuse jobs, but guys trust me when I say we don't want to refuse this one. Whatever schemes he's got going on, it depends on us showing up at the Dockworker's Union at a very specific time and date and hitting the van with the payroll cash." Lisa replied, rubbing her eyes. She hated everything about this job, but Coil made it clear that if she didn't convince the group to go along, there would be unfortunate consequences. For her. Personally.

"Wait, wait, wait, the Dockworkers Union? Like as in the place that scary ghost-bug-girl's Dad works? No thank you, I'd rather not have my eyes chewed out by…" Alec began.

"Wow, Alec, color me impressed. I didn't think you paid that close attention to the local news."

"Bugs, Tattletale. BUGS. Giant fucking swarms of bugs, Tattletale. I heard she choked Skidmark to death with cockroaches, Tattletale. There is no fucking way…"

"He's paying us each 15 grand just to do the hit and paying us two-for-one on any loot we recover."

"…I'm in."

Well, that was easy. Of course, convincing Alec was a pretty straightforward enterprise.

Brian shook his head. Always the cautious type, if something looked too good to be true, he's spend his time worrying over it and talking himself out of it.

Rachel just grunted. "Easy job. Good money. We're doing it."

"It's three for the job, Brian. As leader you can veto, but we should go for it. We'll do our recon, make sure ghost-bug-girl isn't there. Really there shouldn't be any real resistance. No cops, no parahumans. A fast, flashy hit and we're gone, over 60k richer for like fifteen minutes' work."

"That's what scares me."

"The Boss is a schemer, I won't lie. And frankly, I have no idea how this fits into his schemes. Probably got some sort of contract or legal shenanigans and it makes him look good if the Union gets hit hard. That political legal crap is all over our heads anyway, and…"

"Bored now," Alec announced, leaving the kitchen and heading back to his video games.

Brian sighed. It was a pretty sweet deal.

Lisa smiled. The battle was already over.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Why had she agreed to this?! "Oh it's just a payroll van, Brian" "Oh there won't be any parahumans there, Brian" "It'll be fifteen minutes' work, Brian."

Of course that 'simple job' turned into an utter shitshow basically immediately. First, it wasn't a payroll van, it was an honest-to-god armored truck. There weren't parahumans there, but the guards were armed.

Neither of which would've really been a problem. A quick application of Grue's darkness to disable the guards and some heavy hits from Bitch's dogs to rip the truck open and they'd be home free.

No, the real problem was the motherfucking clown grinning like a maniac and running at her, mallet swirling in the air.

Well, her and the nine foot tall steam-mech guy and whatever it was that was going on with that green-tunic looking weirdo who bounced around.

Circus's hyper-agility wouldn't normally mean much. A twitch from Regent's power and a cloak of darkness to keep her confused would've settled her down quickly. But Grue was out of action and it was time to retreat.

Moments earlier

"Okay, got the guards restrained. Bitch, let's get those doors open," Grue's voice echoed out from the darkness wreathing his helmet.

A quick whistle and gesture and one of the dogs smashed hard against the doors to the truck. They deformed slightly, but held. This was going to take a few good whacks. "They'll crumple in fourteen hits," Tattletale informed her. "Make it fast, someone called the PRT."

Thump.

Thump.

Thumpthump.

Wait, that wasn't the sound of the dog hitting the van.

Heavy, metallic sound. Footstep cadence. Power armor. Not Armsmaster, much bigger.

Tattletale whirled around, seeing a giant steam mech moving forward at a brisk walking pace. Next to him was a short teenage boy in a green tunic getup, looking like something out of Zelda or Neverland.

"Grue!" Tattletale shouted.

He whirled, took in the threat, and briskly jogged forward, pulsing out darkness. Regent gripped his scepter tightly and gestured, making the tunic-boy stumble slightly.

"Bitch, keep at the truck. We'll deal with these two," Grue commanded.

Lisa let her power loose. Unknown parahumans with unknown powers were incredibly dangerous and could easily result in fatalities, unintentionally or otherwise.

Case 53. Non-standard biology. Only rudimentary limbs. She glanced to Regent. Power almost completely ineffective. Shit. So much for an easy way to trip up that steam-mech Tinker.

Green-tunic fell down from Regent's trip, caught himself on a single finger and pushed himself back up as if he weighed nothing.

Not super-strength. Not super-agility. There was too much of a wobble for him to be like Circus with inhuman agility.

A clang behind her. Tattletale's head whirled around. Speak of the goddamn devil. Circus was perched on top of the truck, rolling easily with the rocking of the van as Bitch's dogs smashed into it. Well, that answered the question as to who this was – Circus was a low-profile independent villain who typically worked alone. Part of a team now. Working with them as a group. New independent villain group. Here to interfere with the robbery. Not here for the cash. Not here as villains.

Tattletale cut her power off. With so little to go on, it tended to start speculating wildly and building on those speculations rather than observable facts. That and Circus was a known quantity, she needed to turn her attention back to the two new guys.

She caught one last glimpse of the two unknowns as they were enveloped by Grue's darkness. He strode in purposefully, hands clenched tightly. Tattletale caught a final look at tunic-boy's face, a grin of amusement and total confidence on his face.

Not super-strength. Not super-agility. Landed abnormally slowly. Capable of adjusting gravity's influence on his body. Capable of altering his own inertia. Capable of altering inertial mass, capable of altering gravitational mass. Capable of affecting others with a touch.

"Grue, no!" Tattletale shouted, as Grue's leather-clad form suddenly came rocketing out of the darkness cloud.

Sailing in nearly a straight line. Almost no mass. Will eventually slow due to air resistance. Will eventually land. Will not be harmed. Will land far outside the city. Will land in Delaware.

Fffffuck.

Tattletale pulled out her pistol and aimed it at the tunic-boy, but in a flash he was bounding away.

Regent gestured wildly, trying to have some effect on the steam-tinker.

"Regent, Circus, behind…"

Too late.

Circus dodged, dived, and pirouetted away from Bitch's dogs, all with less effort than Tattletale would have to spend walking across a room. Distracted by the mech, Regent hadn't seen her spin up behind him. A solid whack of her mallet and he dropped.

Severely concussed. Not dead. Will recover. Will take weeks to recover.

Tattletale pointed her pistol towards Circus, knowing full well it would be pointless.

Steam-mech guy tromped forward, out of Grue's darkness. His voice rumbled from his chest, sounding much like the clanging and deep grinding of his suit itself: "Go, little girl. Take your dogs and recover your far-flung friend. We are here for the Heartbreaker spawn."

Trainwreck had no idea what "Heartbreaker spawn" was supposed to mean, having memories that only stretched back a few months, but the boss had been very specific about only taking the little renn fair boy captive and saying that specific line when doing so. He wasn't going to question it. With what the boss was promising him, little things like delivering odd lines during combat was a tiny price to pay.

Tattletale's eyes went wide. Will actually let us go. Really was just here to capture Alec. Knows who Alec is. Not sent by Heartbreaker. Hired by an outside party. Mercenary. Mercenaries tracking down Heartbreaker's kids. Other kids out there. Powerful Masters. Hired to take down Masters. Hired by The Guild. Hired by the Yangban. Hired by… once again Tattletale clamped down on her power. Stupid speculation.

Bitch had finally managed to bash the doors of the truck open with one of her dogs while the other two were being kept busy flailing about, failing to even make contact with Circus.

"Bitch!

"Let's go! We need to get Grue!"

Bitch scowled at her, but after a quick, intensely hissed conversation, Bitch whistled her two dogs off of Circus. She made a point of grabbing a single bag from the armored truck, unwilling to leave completely empty handed.

Tattletale and Bitch rode off, leaving Alec prone in front of a wildly laughing tunic-boy.

A:

Coil gave the quietest huff of irritation. "And the dogs?"

"Launched into the Bay, probably off into the Atlantic by now."

"Circus, I was very clear about not killing any of them and only capturing Regent."

"I'm sorry boss. Pan went a little nuts after Tattletale shot him."

B:

"Alpha plan complete. All objectives met," the spotter's voice came across Coil's headset.

He allowed himself a tight smile and collapsed the timeline with two dead Undersiders and a wounded Pan.

Dinah fidgeted nervously in her costume. Actually it was hardly a "costume" at all. More of a dress made up to look kind of like a toga, with an actual wreath of actual laurel leaves in her hair and a simple domino mask. She was standing on a small, quickly-erected stage just to the side of the union hall for the Dockworker's Union, the day after the rest of her "team" fought the Undersiders and captured Regent. They were announcing themselves as heroes today, and Dinah had to be here to get her picture taken and to read the little speech that Coil had given her.

He'd assured her parents that she would never, ever participate in the field. "Operations," he'd called them. She would strictly work as their Thinker support, staying safe at their base or at home. She wouldn't even have to run the "comms" (which Dinah learned meant being on the phone with everyone and telling them things during the operations). Coil was lending them three of his mercenary guys for stuff like that. They scared Dinah and she really, really didn't like them. But seeing professional soldiers there helping them made Daddy more comfortable, and the numbers said that without the soldiers, Daddy wouldn't've let Dinah join The Guardians and then she would've been kidnapped and then…

Dinah started to panic slightly. Pan sensed it somehow, and reached out, holding her hand. He was only 14, not that much older than her. Just after he took her hand, a flurry of flashes came from the reporters standing in front of them. 'Odds that a picture of me and Pan holding hands shows up in the newspapers tomorrow?'

99.713%

Trainwreck was standing at the podium, finishing up the speech the boss gave to him. Each of them had little speeches they had to give. Dinah thought this whole thing was really stupid, but Coil had explained it to Mom and Daddy, and they said she had to do it.

The Union boss guy gave his little speech, and then this thin, bald guy who was also a Union guy gave the longest speech yet. He seemed to get really angry while doing it.

Dinah let her eyes wander across the Dockyards. Oh hey! There was Beacon! Dinah couldn't help but grin. Beacon was sooo scary and cool and awesome. When she was a little kid (and at 12 years old, she wasn't just some little kid anymore), she'd been terrified of both ghosts and bugs. But as is often the way with fears, her feelings on both matters had mutated into fascination. A cape who could control both! Coolest. Thing. Ever. She felt a little bit of sadness at knowing they couldn't get Beacon on their team, since she had already joined New Wave.

It was Pan's turn to talk. He dropped Dinah's hand, which was just as well because her palm was starting to get a little sweaty, stood up at the podium, and started his speech.

"…watch out for the good, hardworking people of Brockton Bay… heroes for the working folks… my uncle and Dad were… failures of the Protectorate and PRT…"

Circus reached forward into empty space and pulled her phone out while Pan was talking. Rude!

Just as Pan was saying something about "revolving-door-prisons" Circus stepped forward, placed her hand on Pan's shoulder, interrupting him.

"I'm sorry ladies and gentlemen. I've just been informed that the Undersiders are currently attacking the PRT and are very likely to free Regent, not one day after we caught him. We will NOT let that happen.

Guardians! Let's move!" she shouted.

Trainwreck scooped Circus in one arm, and took a step towards Pan. After quickly conferring, Circus pointed in a particular direction. Pan tapped both Circus and Trainwreck lightly and then all three of them rocketed off towards the PRT building.

Silence filled the air. Dinah stood there, now alone on the stage.

The small crowd of reporters turned their eyes and cameras off of the shrinking forms of her teammates and focused back on her.

Dinah gulped.

"You were supposed to get all of the money in the transport," Coil fairly growled at Tattletale.

Doesn't actually want the money. Doesn't care. Is actually pleased with the outcome.

"Boss, you and I both know you don't give two shits about that money."

Silence.

Shit. Tattletale felt a spike of worry. She'd pushed too far.

"I will use my power to help your efforts to retrieve Regent. You must do so immediately."

Tattletale let out a weary sigh. "Boss we just got back from fucking Delaware retrieving Grue. None of us have slept, and Grue's got frostbite on his ears from all that time flying so high in the air."

"Don't make me repeat myself, Tattletale. You have twenty minutes to prepare and then I want you hitting the PRT holding facility on 31st. Regent is there and my sources assure me that his guard will be minimal at exactly 1:30pm today. Now go."

Tattletale dragged herself up from her desk and walked out into the main area. Brian was draped across the couch and Rachel was scratching her dog's ears rather more forcefully than seemed necessary.

"Boss says we have to leave in twenty minutes to rescue Regent."

"Good," Bitch grunted.

She might not like Alec, but leaving a pack member behind had made her totally unmanageable for the past half-day. Only Lisa's absolute insistence that they would rescue him right away had gotten her to agree to leave him at the Dockyards.

Brian groaned, levered himself up off the couch, and gave a weary nod.

Twenty minutes later they were off.

A/N:

Spoiler

Last edited: Aug 8, 2017

72

BreezyWheeze

Aug 8, 2017

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