(A/N: I should be writing the next chapter to Absolution, but after reading the excellent Audreyii-fic story Boys With Girlfriends recently, a potentially excellent/terrible idea came to me... genderflipped Taylor. Aside from Taylor being an excellent unisex name to begin with, I started really thinking about how dude!Taylor might be different from canon. His/her trigger event is going to be markedly different, as are the reasons for it, but the sheer number of butterflies that result from Skitter being a teenage boy are so juicy that I couldn't pass this up. Thus, I present Reanimation...
...here we go.)
-- Wake 1.1 --
"Taylor, time to wake up!"
It would be easy, I think, to just roll over and play sick. I'm too sore, my stomach is bothering me, Emma ate my homework...
Actually, I doubt the last one would fly. Madison probably copied my paper and then burned it or something. Ugh.
Hmm... something smells good. Salty, with a tinge of protein curling and browning, fat popping and tiny splatters all over the kitch-
-shit, I have to keep track of that.
It was too easy to rely on what I can sense now. What I can feel, what I can see... I kind of pitied Madison, given the surprisingly thick layers of makeup she uses to try and look less 'cute' and more 'sexy'. Not that it helps, of course, though smelling foundation for the first time was a weird experience. It explained why she never did much in gym class. Emma was frustratingly perfect, as usual, with good skin (though she liked to show off a bit too much of it most days) and a taste for higher end cosmetics and lotions whenever she did use them. Sophia usually went without any accoutrements save deodorant, but she was an athlete, which made sense. She could be good looking if she wanted, but her perpetual sneer and unfortunate personality killed any hint of attractiveness she may have had. I didn't see Sophia so much as I smelled her, the particular scent of chlorophyll and dirt from the outdoors clinging to her like a shadow.
With a groan, I dragged myself out of bed and pulled on some pajama pants (and a tank top after a moment's thought, even if the cold didn't bother me so much lately). Plodding downstairs, I could hear a series of cracks followed by the sound of metal against plastic... must be a special occasion for scrambled eggs and bacon. I usually grabbed a muffin or three before dashing out to catch the bus in the mornings.
"Did you sleep well, sweetie?" Mom poked her head out from the kitchen doorway, wearing a fluffy purple bathrobe and mixing bowl in hand.
"Yeah."
I'm pretty certain Mom rolled her eyes at me as I trudged over to the fridge to pull out my latest experiment - we had an unusually warm weekend here in Brockton Bay, so I decided to clean out an old jug, grab a couple of stray tea bags, and made a gallon of sun tea.
Mmm... caffeinated convenience.
Glass of tea in hand, I took a seat and waited to start feeling a bit more alive. Mom was already setting the table, a plate of perfectly scrambled eggs, strips of streaky bacon, and toast in front of me before I could protest, "I could have served myself, Mom."
"It's a treat, Taylor," She said as she ruffled my hair, "We can't live on Olympia's all the time, even if you get to bring the day-old pastries home after work."
Well, maybe Mom couldn't live off of Olympia's for eternity, I thought. But ever since... that day, I had been almost ravenously hungry. All the time. It was a stroke of good fortune I happened to be wandering the Boardwalk a few weeks ago and saw Mr. Columbu struggling to load a pallet of bread loaves into his van. One good deed (and a question about the 'Help Wanted' sign in his window) later and I was gainfully employed prepping ovens and loading catering boxes for a few hours every night. It was something to do to keep my mind off of the bullshit that was Winslow, a place to make a little bit of extra coin, and not eat my mother and I out of house and home. Not bad for a skinny fifteen year old.
And it gave me a bit of time for my... side project.
"There's plenty more where that came from!" Mom's laughing shook me out of my reverie. At my clueless look, she just pointed to my plate.
Empty already. How about that.
--
A post-breakfast run was always good for clearing my head, even if it wasn't doing as much for me nowadays as it used to. Hmm... that might be something to think on. Even better was a post-run workout in the backyard. I had cobbled together a weight set from empty paint cans, bags of sand, and a rope draped over the thickest branches of a sturdy oak tree for pull-ups. Maybe it was cheating a bit... between my powers, taking gym class every other day at school, and my homemade gym I was able to push myself for the first time since the beginning of January. I hadn't found a hard limit to my stamina yet during my morning runs, but I could push myself harder and faster in my own backyard. The paint cans went from halfway filled with sand, to full, to filled with rocks and a bunch of ball bearings I had bought with my first paycheck in a little over a month. I had a 50 pound bag of sand I used to walk back and forth across the yard, but that had grown increasingly easy so I shelled out for a 100 pound bag to transition to soon. The ropes served a dual purpose - I had perfect balance now, so I had taken to trying pull-ups after basic rope climbing became a joke. I could do twenty of them in a row before it started getting difficult, so I would call that progress. Not to mention it was fun just trying out goofy shit now and then, especially since I could always land on my feet if I screwed up. Swinging from the rope like Tarzan had been a hoot, though I hadn't realized I had built enough momentum to accidentally smack into the house and fall off the rope. I'm just glad Mom had already taken off for work by that point.
I did manage to nail a Superhero Landing when that happened, though.
Powers are... strange. My senses were always dialed up to eleven unless I actively reined it in, though they seemed to naturally dial down when I was trying to fall asleep. I was stronger. A lot stronger than I was before, though in fairness a stiff breeze could have blown me over before Christmas. My strength didn't seem to translate directly into size, though... I was still a beanpole, though I am a lot more toned than before. My clothes fit me better, courtesy of the hint of a gut I had developed evaporating almost overnight and my shoulders broadening just enough to fill the t-shirts and hoodies I favored. The weirder stuff, though, I hadn't tested but a couple of times. After seeing myself... change... for the first time, I could never not be aware of my body now. Of the chitinous plates growing just beneath my skin when I got stressed or riled up, of the odd loss of sensation when the trio of not-quite-eyes burrowed back into my forehead when I turned back into myself. Or the exceedingly odd feeling of extra arms waiting to bud from underneath my normal set...
At least I wouldn't need a costume.
ding-ding-ding! The egg timer started ringing so hard I had to dash over to the back porch to catch it before it fell and shattered. My morning zen interrupted by the worst possible thing.
Time to get ready for school.
--
Winslow High School was a black hole of garbage and I'm not sure what was worse - that it was a shithole or the fact that everyone knew it was a shithole. An ugly cube of brick swallowing a whole city block, I suppose it could have been worse. There were rumors of gang activity in the hallways, though being both white and unimportant I never saw much of it. Teachers that either gave less than a damn about their jobs or tried way too hard - looking at you, Mr. "G" - and an administration that was just... just the fucking worst. Blackwell was gone, Mom had enough clout with the district for that, but her replacement was even worse. Mr. Herren was a weaselly looking man about my height with a greasy combover, a sizable paunch, and a shiteating grin made worse by his overt glances at the prettier girls in my class. And like Blackwell before him, he didn't do a damn thing about the perpetual thorns in my side.
"Oh, Taaaylor! I'm so glad to see you." I froze at the sound of her voice - to anyone else it might have been a friendly greeting, but I'm too used to that cloying, kiddie voice like so much poisoned honey going down my throat.
Emma Barnes stood right in front of me, her arms crossed beneath her chest and a sickeningly sweet smile on her lips, "I've missed you lately. You get here right before the bell rings, you hide somewhere during lunch, you're out the doors as soon as we get to leave... what's the matter? Don't you miss me?"
"I'm not in the mood, Emma."
Her mouth pursed into a small 'o' before twisting into a fake pout, "Not in the mood for me? Since when? I remember the days when we would talk on the phone for hours."
"Just get out of my way."
"Watch what you say, you fucking pussy." I'm yanked backwards for a moment and I'm dangerously off-balance until I remember to trust myself and stay on my feet. Unfortunately, I'm too slow to grab my backpack from Sophia, who has joined Emma's side and fixes me with a withering glare, "You don't get to talk to her like that."
"No, Sophia!" Emma's mock indignation set my blood boiling as she gives her a blatant stage wink before walking up to me, "That was a mean thing to do. You should give that back."
Sophia gives a dark chuckle as she unzips my bag and starts rifling through my things, "Well, if Hebert wasn't such a little limp-dick bitch, I might be willing to give it back."
Emma is up close to me now and without warning, I can see everything... she's wearing the same green apple lip gloss I once said made her look like an old comic book superhero and a green blouse I'm sure I had bought her for Christmas a couple of years ago, though she's since outgrown it judging by the buttons she has undone up top. She catches me looking for a second and a gleaming, if completely malicious, smile blooms, "Oh, Taylor? Like what you see?"
She reaches a couple of slender fingers up to her homemade décolletage and pulls it down another couple of inches, laughing when I step back and look away, "That's what I thought."
"I told you Emma," Sophia tosses my backpack at me, forcing me to scramble to catch all the loose notebook paper and supplies that go flying out. I'm on my knees gathering the last of my assignments when I realize Sophia is in front of me, that musky scent filling my palate before her elbow smashed against the bridge of my nose. Hard. "He's just a little bitch."
I lay on the ground for a minute until I hear the laughter around me die down as the morning bell rings.
Just another morning in Brockton Bay. Maybe it's time to move my side project up a little bit.
--
(A/N: This one will be updated daily for the next couple of days, then weekly as I focus back on Absolution. Thank you for journeying down this rabbit hole with me. Also, it was brought to my attention that the link to the fic that inspired this one was very much NSFW, so I have swapped it out for an FFn link featuring a 'clean' version of the same story. My apologies.)
Edited due to context things getting pointed out to me. -8/20/19
Last edited: Aug 20, 2019
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Mujaki
Jun 9, 2018
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Threadmarks Wake 1.2
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Mujaki
Mujaki
(smells like escalation)
Jun 12, 2018
#22
-- Wake 1.2 --
The snickers in the hallway as I walked by didn't bother me as much as they used to. Not because of the laughing, really, but because of everything else that came with the laughing - the grinding of teeth, the stench of hidden sweat, the partial fear that if anyone said or did anything to stop it they might become a target as well. Not that I blamed them, really... I liked to think I was a better person than that. That if someone else was getting the shit kicked out of them by a track star, I'd step in. I'd get stomped, sure, but I'd do something.
Well, I might have gotten stomped before...
Hmm. I could smell something like... fermented sugar, yum- ugh, not that again. I had to stop in the (mercifully) empty hallway for a second and reel It back in. My powers picked up everything now and it was a little too easy to just look around at what I could perceive. I didn't lose track of things, exactly - I could follow anything or anyone inside my range - but it was such a new feeling the thought of it still made me a bit giddy sometimes.
I have powers!
Not that they did me much good here at Winslow. Sophia's little stunt a few minutes ago was a perfect example. Even as close as she was-andthatsmellthickrichyesss- I'm pretty sure I could have dodged her. But that would have eyes on me I really didn't want. It was bad enough taking a dive when she hit me, but even worse was having to roll with the impact of her elbow enough that she didn't break anything hitting me in the face. I think bonking my head against the concrete hurt me more than 120ish pounds of anger issues shaped like a teenage girl could have.
The worst I'd suffered was the beginning of a bruise on the bridge of my nose, which will probably have faded by the end of the day. Good thing too, because I knew Mom would march down here from the University with a head full of thunder if I told her what had happened. At least Sophia hadn't broken my nose.
Again.
Mrs. Knott's class was my first period of the day and it was usually a cakewalk. I didn't even bother going to my locker - that lovely fermented sugar scent wasn't quite so lovely when it was oozing out from the bottom seam and I knew that the one book and pile of scrap paper I kept stashed in there (to make it look as though I still used it) had probably been soaking in soda and juice for the better part of the weekend - and just walked in as she was calling roll. She glanced my way and just gave me a beleaguered sigh, "Tardy again, Mr. Hebert."
"I'm sorry, ma'am. It won't happen again." I had a much snappier retort on the tip of my tongue, but held it in exchange for bland courtesy instead. No sense alienating the one teacher who seemed to actually give a shit about my lot here in school. I'm pretty sure she hadn't marked me as tardy any of the other times Emma and her idiot friends found me in the mornings, otherwise Mom would have gotten a call by now. None of them (or any of Sophia's jock lackeys) bothered with something as academic as Computer Programming, making this a nice respite for what was coming later today.
Parahuman studies, Art, PE... each with someone I'd could go the rest of my life without dealing with. At least Mrs. Knott tried to make her assignments fun - today was trying to fix the code for 'Pong' in Python - and I could usually get them done pretty quickly. Meanwhile, I could spend the rest of the period 'resting', laying my head down on the desk and trying to people-watch with my other senses.
--
"Mr. G, I think we should do the assignment in groups!"
"You know what, Madison?" Mr. Gladly said with a big grin on his face, "That sounds like a great idea. Alright everyone, four to a group! You have thirty minutes."
Madison preened at the attention and craned her neck to stick her tongue out at me. The most childish of Emma's friends, I could usually count on Madison to do something either incredibly stupid (her spitballs until I decided to start sitting behind her) or very uncomfortable (constantly falling into me, usually with a nob of glue on her fingertips to go in my hair, or sitting up and practically bending over her desk with one of her friends waiting to snap a picture of me 'staring' at her ass). Based on her bright idea, I'm guessing it's going to be a bit of both today. Fantastic.
I glanced around the classroom to see what kind of options I had - Madison had already snagged two of her friends and was scanning the room for another member, several other people actively pulled their desks and bags away from me, and off to my left were... Greg Veder and (judging by a certain lingering scent) his stoner buddy. Well, beggars can't be choosers.
"Hey Greg, mind if I pull up a seat."
Greg snapped his head up and away from some game on his phone at the sound of my voice, "Umm..."
Really, Greg?
"Don't worry, Taylor." I felt a slender arm snake around mine and I scowled at the brunette who had sidled up next to me, "You can work with us!"
I heard a sigh of relief to my left and realized I didn't have much choice in the matter, "Sure thing, Madison."
--
That was too easy, I thought as I changed out of my gym shorts. I really expected... something to have happened in Mr. Gladly's class that day. But it was strange... no 'accidental' spills on me or my things, no stealing my notes or homework for another class, just... classwork. She was a personal space invader, though at least she had eased up on the makeup today - the cheap waxy smell of whatever was in her foundation didn't agree with me. She clung to my side any time I was writing notes and wrote down everything I had to say on a particular subject - the impact of Dragon's strike against the Slaughterhouse Nine five years ago, for example - though I did have to lean in and explain a few concepts she didn't quite understand.
Madison wasn't that bright, so she may have just had a shitty grade and needed the group work to raise it.
"Hey, freakshow!" I looked up and saw Jacob Herren, the school's champion shot putter and nephew to our fearless leader, glaring at me with two oversized members of the football team standing on either side of him, "I hear you like to perv on girls in class."
"About as much action a pussy like him is ever gonna get." The moron on the right chuckled.
Lefty just glared at me, his fists curling in anticipation and I could hear the blood rushing through his veins with a sound like a running faucet in a huge, empty room, "That shit isn't right, is it Jake?"
"No it's not. I think we need to beat some respect into the little wuss. Maybe if he learns how to treat a bitch, he might get one of his own." Jacob snorted at his own lame joke and the stereo laughter of his buddies came about a half second too late to sound natural. I didn't like this one bit... the last time Sophia bribed Jacob to come after me, I spent Thanksgiving in the hospital. And I can't fight them, not without outing myself somehow. There has to be another-
-the air was suddenly thick, heavy with the scent of salt and something... dangerous. I could hear all of their hearts racing, their cheeks reddening, their pupils dilating... they were ready for-
-ah, fuck me.
"Get him!"
Lefty rushed me first, head down and arms out like I was a damn Quarterback, and I swung my backpack right into his temple with as little strength as I could manage. He dropped like a rock, the dull crack! of his forehead smacking the tile floor echoing through the Men's Locker Room. Jacob and Righty just stared wide-eyed for a second before charging in themselves. Without hesitation, I grabbed my backpack, slung it over my shoulder, and took a running leap from the bench between the lockers to the top of them, making sure to not quite make it all the way up. I feigned struggling to pull myself up top until I heard the two idiots behind me scrambling over the bench to reach for my leg. As soon as I felt thick fingers closing around my ankle, I yanked myself all the way up and jumped over the other side, landing on all fours. Perfect.
I sprinted down the empty aisle and into the freshmen locker room, hopping up and running along the bench when a group of unassuming boys looked up to see what was going on. At the sound of cursing behind me, I kept going past the showers and out the exit near the bathroom stalls. I threw the door open and flew ass-over-teakettle into Sophia Hess. Because of course she would be close by to take pictures of me getting my ass kicked.
"Whothethuckin-HERBERR!?"
Damn, I can't take all of them on and make it look like an accident. Sophia untangled herself from me just as I came back to my feet, her nostrils flaring as a trickle of mmmsweetthick-blood flowed from both sides, "Ah'm gonna thucking KILL OU, Herberr!"
That's it, I'm done with this bullshit. I turned tail and ran out across the field, leaving Hess and the dumbass twins in my dust.
--
Olympia's was quiet tonight, which meant not a whole lot of work for me. I kind of loved the hole-in-the-wall nature of the bakery, though it was a bit bigger on the inside than the facade would suggest. There were a number of solid oak tables on the inside with corresponding chairs - genuine Austrian oak, Mr. Columbu would often brag in his thick, Italian accent before chuckling at some joke only he understood - and the walls were covered in posters of hugely muscled men in speedos, all signed in black markers in the corners. There was a trophy case full of awards next to the cash register, including one heavy looking statuette featuring a brass caricature of a nude strongman holding an old-timey barbell.
"Taylor! Are you studying up there?" Mr. Columbu bellowed from the back room.
"Yes sir!"
I heard a grunt of acknowledgement and got to finishing up my math assignment - there was an ancient copy machine in the back room Mr. Columbu insisted I use after hearing about my homework mysteriously 'disappearing' whenever I wasn't watching it, so copies of my homework assignments ended up with me, faxed to the secretary's desk at school, scanned and emailed to whichever class had assigned it, and my mother kept the originals (just in case).
By odd coincidence, my GPA shot through the roof once my mother came onboard with Mr. Columbu's idea.
I put away my supplies and headed back to make my copies when Mr. Columbu gave me a strange look. He marched right up to me-brutcolognelikeDADsardinesmmmavocado-and looked up into my face. He was a short man, almost a whole head shorter than I am, but he was broad and solidly built despite his age. Those sharp eyes focused right on my nose. Oh shit...
"What is this?" Mr. Columbu demanded, his finger pointing so close to my nose I nearly went cross-eyed, "Why are you fighting? You go to school to learn!"
"Mr. Columbu, sir, I wasn't fighting."
This was apparently the wrong answer because his lips thinned a bit before replying, "Oh, some other boy decided to hit you?"
I folded under his gaze, looking away before mumbling, "It wasn't a boy."
Mr. Columbu's eyes narrowed for a moment before his whole expression softened, "Ahh... it's not good to hit a bambina, yes?"
"No, sir."
He put a firm hand on my shoulder and guided me back into the cafe, locking the front door and drawing the shades before sitting down next to me, "How long?"
I think of Emma in a green blouse, ice cream on her nose, movies on the couch with Anne, Mom holding me when I cried because Dad diedandEmmawasn'tmyfriendNEVERmyfriendandSophialaughing-
"Eigh-nineteen months, now."
Mr. Columbu put his hands on my shoulders to calm my shaking - when had I started shaking? - and looked me right in the eyes, "Taylor, you're a good boy. You're a good worker. You have a wonderful madre. What you need-" He raised his fists to eye level like a boxer, "is this."
He pointed up to a black and white poster above the front entrance featuring a kid not much older than me wearing boxing gloves, "I grew up with nothing. From nowhere, in the mountains. All I had was what I could make with these," Mr. Columbu brought his fists together for emphasis, "My madre would hear nothing about it. 'You'll be a brute and do nothing like all the other brutes!' She'd say. But I saw my ticket out and I took it."
"So take it, Taylor. And say hello to your madre, yes?"
--
Mom wasn't happy when she saw my fading shiner, but I managed to keep her from heading to the school to murder Herren in the morning. I gave her 50 for part of the grocery bill - almost forcing her to take it, as always - and when she retired to her room to go to sleep, I followed and lay in bed for a few minutes. Thinking.
I've had my powers for more than a month now. A month of daily beatings rendered futile. A month of seeing and smelling the fear, sweat, and pain of everyone who went to Winslow. A month of really feeling what other people were like, hints of what they felt in their body language and the-wonderfullovelytasssty-scents they made. Before Christmas, there was a totem pole, a pecking order at Winslow with me sitting at the bottom. So toxic even the other social outcasts wanted nothing to do with me lest Emma sic Sophia on them. But after the first day back...
I looked at my hands, clear even in the dark. Mr. Columbu was right... I could make something with these.
So I closed my eyes and opened my senses completely -rustwaterdumdumDUMDUMcreeeeakbreakfastsoundslovelychuffchuffchuff- and focused as much as I could to the bedroom down the hall.
-dumDUMdumDUMdumDUM-
And with a slow, steady heartbeat I knew Mom was finally asleep. Good...
The first change was always the same - I felt an odd pressure right between my eyebrows as three dark bubbles pushed their way through my skin. Like flipping a switch, my world was suddenly awash with pulses and waves, my vision enhanced with tints of violet and green. As soon as I opened my eyes, I felt them bulge forward slightly before the darkness in my bedroom evaporated I could see everything, from the thick grains of the ancient stucco ceiling to the wood grain of the door frame, nothing was hidden from me now. I could hear the pop-pop-pop of my spine lengthening and the chitinous plates folding out along my shoulders and chest, the skin of my arms hardening into something like armor. I sat up as cautiously as I dared, hoping the bed didn't strain too hard with my new weight, putting my newly-armored legs over the side and onto the ground. I was pleased that despite my size - I was already a tall kid, but I had to be about a foot taller than normal now - there wasn't so much as a lazy creak from the floorboards. Curious, I raised my foot off the ground and tilted it towards my face, noticing that I was both stupidly flexible and the soles of my feet were oddly padded, almost like the feet of a dog but thicker and rougher. My hands were an inky black, covered with tiny plates of organic chain-mail, and each finger was tipped with a wicked-looking claw. Once I felt the change finish, I padded over to my door to examine myself in the mirror.
I looked... terrifying, with eyes that glowed an spooky orange around a somewhat normal pupil. In my sight, I was a rainbow of color, an oil slick brought to technicolor life with every shade complementing the other. To a human's sight, I was mostly black and green, my armor covered in speckles of black in relief to my almost normal looking hands (until closely scrutinized). Likewise, my face was mostly human until you got up close - I looked older, with a stronger jaw framed by a 'strap' of armor that circled my face from chin to hairline, my bizarre eyes alight with bio-luminescence, ears that didn't quite exist anymore aside from what amounted to oval holes on either side of my head covered with more of that organic plating, and shoulders so broad I could have probably matched or even exceeded the men in those old posters at Olympia's.
"Perfect," I said, my voice deepened with an odd buzzing quality, "Time to go do something heroic."
--
(A/N: Forgive the lateness of this chapter - I had forgotten about an assignment due just as I was sitting down to write this, so I split my attention to get both done. A couple of notes - I hope Taylor's power was descriptive enough. His senses are one of the things that are always on, so he keeps getting his train of thought interrupted by the sensory equivalent of 'Ooh, squirrel!' from time to time. For reference, my mental picture of r63!Taylor is Finn Wolfhard... who happens to conveniently be the correct age, height, and build for the beginning of this story. As for his changer form, think of a cross between Semi-Perfect Cell from Dragonball Z and the Martinfly creature from The Fly II. Thank you and I appreciate the attention you folks give this little dog-and-pony show of mine. Next chapter drops tomorrow at 9pm.)
Last edited: Aug 12, 2018
353
Mujaki
Jun 12, 2018
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Threadmarks Wake 1.3
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Mujaki
Mujaki
(smells like escalation)
Jun 13, 2018
#29
(TW: Trigger event happens here, folks, so this is a literal trigger warning. Violence and implied violation, so be warned. Nothing is explicit, but for those of you who like the story but don't want to see what happens, stop reading at the 'one month ago' header. Here we go.)
-- Wake 1.3 --
nineteen months ago
"No, Alan, that's not the issue here and you know it. My concern is my son going over to your house to check up on his friend and coming back with a broken nose! Tell me-" Mom clammed up for a second, but I could see her brows furrow through my tears, "-excuse me, what did you just say?"
I was hunched over on the couch, holding a tea towel over my nose and trying desperately not to think about-
"Emma's had a bad time!? Are you kidding me, Alan?"
Emma couldn't have meant it. It didn't make sense... I-I-I wasn't even gone for that long! It was an art camp... Mom had connections at Amherst for a jewelry-making program and was able to get me into an open slot despite my lack of portfolio - I didn't realize that whatever I hadn't given to Emma Mom decided to keep in a portfolio of her own. I made bracelets for us and saw a particularly pretty piece of jade in the scrap pile... it matched Ems' eyes so well I had to use it. She didn't like wearing green until recently for some reason, but I really thought she would have loved the necklace I made with it. The chain was a little bit of real gold we got to see the Metallurgy Professor smelt in the Hot House, but I was particularly proud of the clasps - I made them myself, scraping the mold for it for days, fitting it snugly around the stone. My first bit of real jewelry, more than the sketches I made in the years before. I thought it was beautiful. I didn't even see where that other girl had thrown it.
Maybe she didn't think it was good enough.
"-you know Taylor didn't do anything of the sort! Are you really telling me you're going to trust some random girl Emma's only known for a couple of weeks over the boy you've known his whole life? For Emma's whole life?"
But how? You don't just know someone for years and then they disappear when you need them the most, not unless something happens to-
oh.
Dad.
"-bet your sorry ass I'm coming to talk to you about this! We'll finish this discussion later, Alan. I have a son who needs help and I intend to get it for him. I suggest you do the same for your daughter."
There was a hard sound, plastic-on-plastic, and my mother stormed into the room. When I looked up, she froze, "Oh, baby..."
We both had tears in our eyes.
--
I wasn't certain what to expect when I went out tonight - maybe a purse snatcher or some small-time thieves breaking into one of the many little stores along the Docks - but dodging bottles, bricks, and the occasional dumpster in an alley while keeping a Gollum-wannabe from diving into a pile of garbage to form the filthiest armor on the face of the Earth was not one of them. I grabbed the little troll by the ankle and tossed him up the fire escape before my feet were swept out from under me. Again. I went sliding down the alley and slammed into the dumpster I had previously dodged so hard I see stars for a second.
"Ha! I got him. Someone go grab that robot-looking shit heel and bring him over so I can teach him some fucking manners!"
That would be Skidmark, wielder of the world's dumbest superpower - he can make what amounts to a conveyor belt made of energy and then layer it so anything slides in the opposite direction. Of course, I'm literally head over heels trying to pry myself out of a Me-shaped dent in the side of a city dumpster, so I'm thinking my power isn't exactly hot shit either at the moment.
"I'll get him, boss." I don't immediately recognize the voice, muffled as it is within a walking mountain of brick, assorted rubble, and a shower curtain as a 'mask', but I'm pretty sure it's the world's dirtiest hobbit somewhere in there. He reaches down and grabs me by the ankle and-
-huh, so that's what a bird's eye view looks lik-CRASH!
"How does that feel, bitch! Not so fucking funny now?"
On the plus side, I'm upright again, the metal bars of the fire escape were bent around my seemingly impenetrable armor. On the down side, I still can't set foot on the alley itself - Skidmark covered every square inch of it in a pale blue haze and not even my enhanced equilibrium can stay standing. Mush, on the other hand, is either immune to the effect or just plain heavy enough by now for him to shrug it off. I didn't have a game plan for this when I decided to go out tonight and now I'm paying for it. The trash goblin was coming closer, his sweatbloodooohsosalty-
Wait a second, I can do more than just throw people and punch things.
Aside from the one-sided beatings I got in school and the... I don't even know what it was today (aside from royally pissing Sophia off), I had never been in a real fight before. I've tried to defend myself, but that's never worked out in any meaningful way. I know my power can make up for a lot - being really strong and durable probably offsets my piss-poor punching form and my flexibility and reflexes help my inexperience - but making plans? Thinking my way out of a problem? That's all me.
I look down at my hands and close them into fists.
Yeah, I can do that.
--
thirteen months ago
"Taylor, sweetheart, I need you to do something for me," Mom came in with a frozen bag of peas wrapped in a towel, carefully removing the old one from my face and replacing it as she spoke, "I need you to be honest with me. The pictures... the pictures don't look good."
My jaw was so swollen I could barely talk... if I had thought Sophia smart enough for it, I might believe that part was planned, "w-what pics, mm?"
Mom bit her lip before pulling out a cell phone - someone had taken a picture of me trying to look around Madison in Mrs. Evans class, but the angle made it look like my face was pointed right at her butt. Even the act of me waving my hand around to get Mrs. Evans' attention didn't look innocent at all - for all the world it looked as though I was winding up to slap her on the rear.
"miz evans. l-likes to w-w-walk. at-t-tention, mm"
"And Madison? What happened?"
I had brought her over in September, thinking maybe, maybe I had made a new friend. She was a bit young looking, but she was my age and after having only had Emma, Anne, Dad, and Mom for so long I was so happy to have met someone new. Madison was a little spacey sometimes, but she meant well and Mom had really liked her. When her folks had come by for Thanksgiving, they had brought pies and stuffing and Mom and I had cooked for the first time in a long while. They seemed so nice too...
"i t-told her. i-it wasn-wasn' wat it look-d like"
I thought as hard as I could. Did I miss something? Did I make her mad somehow? Why? Why had she-
"s-she laughed, thought i-it was funny, was f-fine"
"Funny? Funny how, Taylor?"
Some other girls had pulled Madison aside after class, showing her something on their phones - likely the picture Mom had seen - while I waited in the hallway to walk her to class. Had they said something to her when I wasn't there? That couldn't have been it...
"she j-jus laughed, said it wa-was nothin' no worry"
"And then?"
I tried, but fresh tears threatened to start flowing when I remembered walking to the bus stop, "foo-ball guys, f-five of 'em, said i wass a perv, n-nee to man u-ugh"
My entire face felt like it was on fire and I adjusted the ice pack, trying to cover the whole side of my head where-
ding!
Mom looked over to the coffee table at my phone's text alert. I pointed at it and without asking Mom brought it over to me. It was from Madison.
"t-t-'ell me wha i says, mm?"
She slid the alert up and I could kind of see a white blur in the reflection of her glasses, followed by a weird blur of color that must have been a picture. Madison liked to send me random pictures she found on the internet - pictures of cats, descriptions of the weirder capes out there, stuff like that - so maybe she had sent me something, "mm, wha 's it?"
Mom's eyes were stuck in some weird halfway point between sadness and utter fury in a way I hadn't seen from her since...
She turned my phone to face me, bringing it close enough to my eyes I could see it without my glasses. It was a picture of Emma, Sophia, and Madison.
They were laughing.
My phone dinged again.
--
Mush was looming just below me, close enough to reach up and slap me out of my lookout.
He wasn't going to have the chance. I looked right into his center mass and saw empty garbage, bottles, mmtastysugarsweatFOUNDYOU.
I yanked myself free of the scaffolding and dove right on top of the ten foot tall mountain of waste that enveloped Mush like a diseased blanket. He reached long, simian arms up to get me, but he didn't have the fine motor control to pry me loose, nor did he have the mass in his limbs alone that let him throw me across the alleyway. I dug through his garbage shell like it was so much wet paper - hell, some of it probably was - and my claws shredded the impromptu aluminum shielding he had shifted from other parts of his covering. My eyes held tight on the shimmering red blob I could see through the pile of refuse, and the fear radiating off of him was positively intoxicating. I had dug a tunnel through a monster and wouldn't leave until I-
-my hand closed around a tiny wrist, "Found you."
With a mighty heave, I pulled Mush loose from his shell and leaped onto the wall of the closest building just as the pile of garbage collapsed without his power to hold it together, barely noticing that I was sticking to the wall. Instead, my focus was on the pink-skinned little man squirming in my grasp. I raised my arm and pulled him up so we were face-to-face, his beady eyes suddenly nervous as my multi-hued gaze fell upon him.
"W-what are you gonna do to me?"
"Hmm," I tilted my head, looking past him at the alley below until inspiration struck, "I think I'll put you where you belong."
I leaped off of the wall, flying further than when Mush had tossed me himself, landing at the mouth of the alley just beyond Skidmark's range alongside the dumpster the Merchant leader had pushed my way earlier in the fight. With my free hand, I grabbed the corner of the dumpster and lifted it clean in the air, turning it upside down to empty the contents, "What do you mean where I belo-HEY!"
As soon as the dumpster was free of debris, I tossed the smelly cape inside and with a single, flowing movement turned the dumpster upside-down, trapping the goon inside. As small as he is and without anything to add to his mass, I doubted there was any way he could get out on his own.
A bottle smashed fruitlessly against my leg and I turn my gaze down the alleyway Skidmark is still there, but all his bravado is gone. Still, once he notices that I've noticed him, he cracks a smile full of rotten teeth, "Oh, you think you're hot shit, huh! Well, you bug-eyed fuck, you better run before I decide to shove my switch up your ass!"
He pulls a switchblade out of his belt and snaps it open, that feral smile on his lips even though I hear his heart thudding against his rib cage and smell sweetdelicioussweattearssoscared-
I walk right up to the hazy bands of energy along the ground - Skidmark must have layered more of them down when I was dealing with Mush, because the crackles and sparks have gone violet and the remains of Mush's shell are scattered around me. I give him a wan smile of my own before walking over to one of the buildings walling off the alley. I put one clawed hand against it and push-
-ah, there it is. The oddly ribbed flesh between the tiny plates of armor on the palm of my hand catch with tiny hairs that I couldn't see before, but can certainly feel now, and I pull myself up onto the wall and crawl up the corner like it was nothing. I can see his eyes widen with-mmmsweatFEAR-fear as I crawl further up the building and onto the roof above. As soon as the pads of my feet touch the roof, I quietly run across it and position myself not quite parallel with the junkie down below. I make sure to bring the buzzing to the forefront when I speak again, "I won't be the one running, Skidmark."
--
one month ago
I didn't think Winslow could get more miserable, but Winslow in December was a strong fucking contender. I came to school in layers, my last good pair of sneakers traded for an old pair of work boots that belonged to my Dad. They were a little loose, but Mom was dealing with end-of-semester bullshit at work I didn't need to bother her about shoes. She already does so much for us. For me.
I wish she wouldn't. She buys me books and they end up stolen or trashed. She buys me nice clothes and they either get ripped up by some jock asshole or stained with juice because Madison decided to be extra 'cute' that day. I had started keeping all my necessary notes and textbooks on me, even if it made my backpack stupidly heavy, because it was less likely someone would brazenly try and steal shit that way.
It did make it harder to run away, but that was a trade-off I was willing to make.
"Climb the rope, fag!"
I hated gym. I hated the stupid fucking jocks that always managed to poke their heads in and say something that made everyone laugh at me. I hated the other kids who thought those stupid jokes were funny. But most of all, I hated making a fool of myself in front of the school. That was the worst joke of all, because I could do that without any help. I reached up and slowly pulled myself up the rope, the sweat on my brow freely flowing into my eyes and stinging but I didn't care I was going to make it up this rope if it-
-something(someone) grabbed my ankle and pulled. Hard.
I came crashing down onto the mat, landing flat on my back and gasping for air. Out of the corner of one wet eye I saw...
...Sophia. Of course it was Sophia. She gave me what she probably thought was a saucy wink and sauntered away.
"Hebert! What are you doing on the ground?" I heard Coach Murray jogging up to the rope station, "What happened here?"
"Taylor fell, sir!" a cutesy voice - Madison - piped up from somewhere behind me, "He got up a few feet and just lost his grip."
"Okay, get up Hebert. Hit the showers, you're done for the day."
I don't know if it was mercy or just plain humiliation, but I'll take it. I dragged myself up and trudged towards the locker room, away from the giggles and the laughter.
I was already half changed out of my gym clothes when I realized the showers were on. Huh, I guess I'm not the only one to get sent away. I pulled the padlock loose and opened the door to grab my clothes and-
-nothing was there.
Goddamnit.
I looked at the padlock in my hands and examined it - it didn't have any scratches or other signs of tampering. Maybe someone could have used a master key to open it up, but that was unlikely. I had seen the janitors break out the bolt cutters whenever the administration needed to get into an old locker, so I doubted anyone could have magically gotten inside. And I know I was aware enough to put my clothes and backpack inside before heading to gym. Which meant...
...ah, fuck.
I got up and walked around the aisles to where the shower stalls were. All of the showers were on, meaning I was going to have to look inside each one to find my undoubtedly ruined clothes, books, phone, and... and Dad's boots.
The last stall in the right side was the 'winner'. My clothes and backpack were in a neat pile, Dad's boots sitting on top. It would have been a nice presentation if the shower wasn't spewing cold water all over them-
-I head a dull thwack and my head was spinning. W-wha tha fuck?
"HE'S HERE, SOMEONE GO GET HESS!"
Rough hands grab me an-SLAP!-wher am i?
I try to move and oh i'm on the floor
's cold.
shorts why someone pulling no MY SHORTS
"WHAT IS THIS SHIT, IT FUCKING STINKS?"
"I DON'T CARE, JUST GET HIM INSIDE"
pushhh an oh waters cold! i need my phone slipping all over
wha?
What is this trash oh it stinks why is it sticking? Bugs, heh
"Is he laughing?"
"I told you he was fucked up, pour the other one. I got the camera."
heh bugs all over why do I smell blood what the FUCK?
let me out LET ME OUT
"He's wriggling in here"
"Then get your fat ass against the door! I'm trying to hook this shit up to the WiFi"
"Huh, he's packing for such a skinny guy"
"You think I give a fuck about that? He's weak, a fucking pussy. So I'm gonna treat him like one"
weak why am I weak let me OUT.
strong. I need to be strong. Mom.
Ems.
Dad.
..
.
[Destination]
.
[AGREEMENT]
--
(A/N: Thank you guys for everything. Next chapter drops tomorrow.)
Last edited: Aug 12, 2018
304
Mujaki
Jun 13, 2018
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Threadmarks Interlude 1.a - Rebellion
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Mujaki
Mujaki
(smells like escalation)
Jun 14, 2018
#49
(A/N: Wow. The last chapter had the most discussion and controversy than anything I've ever posted before. I'm glad there is such engagement with this little story of mine - even with the occasional shit post - because it makes the prep time worth it. I'm going to have to put Absolution on the weekly update schedule because all my ideas and energy are going into this story, so hopefully it turns out to be worth it in the end. Here we go.)
--
Sophia
There was something... weird going on with Hebert and Sophia didn't like it one bit.
On the surface, things seemed normal. Hebert was still a fucking spaz and ran at the first sign of trouble, Emma got her kicks watching him squirm for some reason, and Madison just seemed to find the whole thing funny, but there was something off about it. And she knew exactly what it was.
Hebert was a cape.
Or at the very least a parahuman. That day in December was supposed to be the day she got that pussy out of Winslow forever - Emma had wanted to do something to Hebert, to push him further than they had before. She didn't like it one bit. Not the idea, of course, since it was always good to make sure the sheep knew their place among the wolves. But Emma was stuck on Hebert something fierce and it fucking bothered Sophia. Hebert was a worm, a spineless little shit that made her want to throw up. How could one person be so weak? Any other guy would get worked up at the way Emma teased Hebert. Shit, she knew guys on the track team willing to kill for the chance to look down Emma Barnes' shirt and there were times when Emma had all but flashed him and Hebert didn't do a goddamned thing! Hell, he looked away most of the time and Sophia couldn't stomach it - Emma debasing herself for some... boy. Emma's plan was supposed to take care of that, get him to man up like she thought he would.
Emma's plan... was a nice idea. Sophia had a better one.
The bare bones were still the same - slip into the Men's Locker Room while Madison distracted that dumbass coach, shift into Hebert's locker and take all his shit, stick it into one of the shower stalls and turn the faucets on (that little bit was Madison's contribution). Sophia had a little extra cash on hand ever since getting stuck working with The Wards (she was still pissed about that bullshit), so she had bribed one of the second-string linemen to corner Hebert in the shower and force his ass into the stall until he fought back. It was a decent plan, but she didn't think Emma was really willing to go for the throat when it came to Hebert. Oh, Emma had laughed her ass off when she had convinced Madison to ditch Hebert way back when they started at Winslow, but that didn't end the way she wanted either - with Hebert in her face and this close to screaming. Of course, Sophia had stacked the deck with the football team, counting on their...courtesy? Chivalry, something like that. Whatever the fuck it was... all to make sure Hebert didn't make it that far. No sense taking the chance the dipshit might actually snap and do something they'd regret later. Still, Emma wasn't willing to go all the way for this.
So she would... help.
The tampons were something Sophia felt made a statement, like nailing some rapist fuck to a wall with his dick still out swinging for the BBPD to find. Hebert was so determined to be a pussy forever and he'd end up dragging Emma that way too, so that's the way she was going to fucking treat him. The day Winslow let out for Thankgiving, she threw on some dish gloves and went to every girl's bathroom in the school, gathering up every used pad and tampon she could find. Once she acomplished that much, she stuck them all in a couple of these giant garbage bags PRT Headquarters always had laying around and found a dusty corner in the school's old boiler room to let that shit rot over break. Hell, she had even convinced Emma to wait until the last day before Christmas Break to spring the trap - with both Madison and herself in the same Gym class as Hebert, it would be the easiest time to do it. No muss, no fuss, and they would get off smelling like roses.
And Hebert would be fucking gone.
That's what should have happened, at least.
Sophia decided to change things up at the last second - rolling with her gut had served her well on the streets and something was telling her that it might be a bad idea to give Hebert the chance to fight back. It rankled her a bit to think about too hard... the whole point of this was seeing if Hebert would come out a survivor instead of just existing like all those other sheep in the hallways of Winslow, content to let the real predators walk the halls in their rightful place. It would make Emma happy if Hebert pulled through like she thought he would.
And that bothered her. Just a bit. Just enough to wonder what the fuck would happen afterwards. Emma would never leave her, Sophia knew that much... but what if Hebert actually was a survivor?
It didn't happen when she broke his nose the day she saw him the first time, walking the sidewalk to Emma's house looking like a scarecrow with long, wild hair, a big smile on his face and humming like... like some kind of child. Hebert wasn't a man. Fuck, he wasn't even a guy. He was a boy. A sheltered child who was never, ever going to grow up and see the world for what it really was. It definitely didn't happen when Madison turned on him and got him labeled a pervert to everyone with a phone and a Myspace page. Fuck that noise.
He'd had his chance.
"Strip him."
"What?" Luke was the kind of guy Sophia knew wasn't going to make it to college ball. Shit, she doubted he'd even make it out of high school without getting drafted as dumb muscle by one of the local gangs, but she would deal with that later on, "I ain't touching no guy's junk."
"For fuck's sake, I'm not telling you to fondle him! Just get his clothes off and stick him in the shower."
It should have been easy. Sophia went out and bought a cheap smartphone on a burner plan for the sole purpose of getting Hebert's skinny ass online for all to see. Once word got around of the little shit covered in blood and pads, there was no fucking way he'd ever show his face at Winslow again and everyone could move on with their lives. Sophia had another guy, a sprinter named Nolan, on hand if she needed him. He had a thing for Madison and didn't even want any money to take part, so long as she put in a good word for him.
Which she wasn't going to do, given the plan had gone straight to shit immediately because he hit Hebert with a sock full of quarters on the back of his goddamned head and then proceeded to start slapping the shit out of him before Sophia intervened. He'd also screamed her name at the top of his lungs, so the dumb motherfucker was on her shitlist twice thanks to this little stunt. Luke managed to get Hebert's shorts off and shove him into the shower, but somehow the skinny bitch was still lucid and trying to get out. The Plan was still salvageable, though, so she untied the garbage bags and the putrid stink hit her square in the face, flies buzzing, maggots squirming and Sophia almost puked right there. As it was, her mouth was painfully salivating and she swore this was another bit of bullshit Hebert was gonna pay for, especially since he had stopped struggling and had started laughing. The boys started dumping the rancid shit into the stall as she readied the the phone to record-
And Sophia was somewhere else.
The world fell apart.
--
Hebert had come back and he was... different.
Sophia was pissed as it was - she had avoided repercussions by the skin of her teeth, having come to with enough of her wits about her to drag herself into a different stall, shift through the ceiling unseen to the Girl's Locker Room, and nearly pass the fuck out in a stall on that side. The cold water helped center her again and she was in the locker room with plenty of time to establish an alibi before they found Hebert and dragged his unconscious ass to the hospital. Emma had been furious, angrier beyond anything she had seen before, but when Sophia herself ended up in the hospital later that evening (ostensibly for Panacea to give her a 'check up' after her episode) she had cooled down. In fact, by the beginning of January, she was positively ecstatic - Hebert would come back to school changed. Better, she swore, he'll be perfect. Sophia didn't have the heart to tell her that Hebert was probably long gone, even if her own heart warmed at the thought.
But Hebert came back. And, if you weren't looking for it, nothing had changed. He was still a lanky reed of a boy, but...
His glasses were gone.
It didn't seem like a big deal, not really. A lot of the sheep at Winslow wore glasses or contacts, but Hebert had these coke-bottle monstrosities permanently affixed to his head. Except now they were gone. Panacea had been at the hospital that night and she was known for doing the occasional 'tune-up' when the stuck-up bitch was in the mood for it, so maybe Hebert had lucked out. But that wasn't everything... Hebert moved differently. Before, he was gawky and uncoordinated, all limbs, elbows, and knees and the wimp always looked like a strong breeze could blow him away. But now... everything was cautious, like there was this ease of awareness in his movement. He moved like a predator. Sophia glanced over at Emma and there was this odd gleam in her eye, like someone who had gotten everything she wanted. She had dressed... weirdly today, wearing some godawful green shirt that was way too fucking tight on her, but Sophia knew that this was her show. Besides, with a bit of prodding, she was sure someone would be willing to knock an uppity sheep down a peg or two.
--
Console Duty was bullshit. Hebert's little rebellion earlier today had broken her fucking nose and she would be damned if he was going to get away with that. It put her on edge everytime she got stuck behind the desk, manning a computer for hours at a time while the other so-called 'heroes' went out to fight crime and make a statement. Not that they were any good at it, the wusses. Always holding back, letting the roaches get away, never making a real statement that The Wards were not to be fucked with. No, the PRT wanted them on a leash, ready to march out and play nice with the public. Family-friendly superheroes. It made her sick, thinking about how many leeches they just let waltz away rather than 'endanger' the JV team...
Huh. The BBPD was on the line and... what the fuck?
"Hey, is there anyone near the docks right now? I've got the BBPD dispatcher on the line saying someone has Skidmark and Mush on lockdown."
"Repeat that, Shadow Stalker?" She snorted at the disbelief in Aegis' voice, not that she felt any different.
"Skidmark. Mush. Some fucker strung them up next to the old Fishery."
"Language, Shadow Stalker."
"Whatever." Sophia hoped he could hear her eyes rolling, "Who's closest to the docks?"
"That would be me and Vista, I think." Clockblocker chimed in, and Sophia felt her eyes rolling of their own accord this time.
"Well, I don't care who it is, but one of you better get over there before someone comes by to let them loose."
It was an agonizing ten minutes before anyone got back on the line, "Um, Shadow Stalker? Can we get a team out here for pick-up?"
Sophia sat up to the edge of her seat at Clockblocker's voice - someone had actually gone out and put down two of the squirreliest villains in town? "Roger that. What's the situation?"
"Well... you know what, let me just send you a pic."
Sophia could barely believe her eyes, but the picture was no joke. Someone had fucking hog-tied Skidmark with duct tape and left his junkie ass hanging upside-down from a lamp post. Directly beneath him was a freshly puke-stained dumpster that looked like it had been turned on its end, a giant dent on the front of it and a message scraped into the side.
BEWARE: ASSHOLE INSIDE
DO NOT HANDLE WITH CARE
She couldn't help it - Sophia snorted and then winced at the pain lancing through her face. Somehow, someway, she knew that Hebert was going to pay for this.
--
(A/N: This was a tougher interlude to write than I thought it would be, so forgive the lateness. Hopefully I was able to catch Sophia's POV well enough. There are two or three more chapters and an interlude to wrap this arc up, and soon all our players will be on the map. Next chapter drops tomorrow afternoon Friday around noonish due to IRL reasons...)
Last edited: Jun 17, 2018
377
Mujaki
Jun 14, 2018
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Threadmarks Wake 1.4
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Mujaki
Mujaki
(smells like escalation)
Jun 17, 2018
#93
(A/N: I appreciate the thoughts and comments I've seen so far - I'm surprised how close everyone is to parsing what Emma's deal is, not to mention interpersonal issues that are going to rear their ugly heads soon enough. I had actually wondered if I was either giving too much subtext on Sophia's side or not enough - it looks as though I managed to walk that fine line fairly well. We also got the tiniest sighting of The Wards, who also have their role to play in upcoming events. Thank you all for giving me the time to get my sister situated as well... it's not exactly good news on that front, but we will deal. Also, I'm going back to rewrite a couple of passages from the Sophia interlude on the suggestion of LostDeviljho. Nothing that impacts the story, so you don't need to go back and reread it unless you want to. Anyway, here we go...)
-- Wake 1.4 --
I might have a problem.
This was the longest I had ever been in my armored form and I was... itchy? Yes, under my plates was this niggling sensation of something, a bizarre tingle as though all my limbs had fallen asleep and were just now starting to wake back up. I had initially chalked it up to dealing with Mush - I did dig through a literal pile of garbage to get to its juicy junkie center, after all - but the feeling had lingered after I took care of Skidmark.
It was... odd.
My trip home was uneventful - for the best really, given that the closer I got to my house, the longer and more intense the itching became. I could still jump with the best of them, though, and cleared the fence in a single graceful leap, snagging one of my ropes to slow my descent. I had to go I through the back door rather than my bedroom window for a number of reasons, not the least of which was my... girth. Looking at myself in the glass of the window, I noticed that I was bigger. Almost a foot taller from where I started, unless I've suddenly become very bad at noticing details. The plates on my chest and shoulders were thicker, textured with odd striations I could have sworn weren't there before. My arms were almost sectional now with the same striated plating and small nubs that felt like the beginning of... spikes, maybe? My claws were longer, wicked sharp, and a tiny spike tipped each knuckle...
I need a real mirror.
Kneeling down, I reached beneath the rocking chair on the back porch for the spare key, the odd sensation of my claws retracting accompanying my search, allowing me to grip the tiny chunk of metal without shredding the wooden chair - something I was fairly confident I could do by accident at this point. The itching sensation was back and was nearly unbearable now.
What the fuck?
I was so caught up in the weird changes to my body that I didn't notice the lights were on in the living room - light really having little meaning considering how much I can see now, my vision adjusting on the fly for how much light was in any given area. Between the itching and the fascination with the fact I had built-in knuckle-dusters, I almost missed a scent. A very particular and important scent.
Lavender Vanilla. Bits of it tickled my nose and I realized something very, very important.
My mother keeps a lavender vanilla candle in her room.
"Taylor, where have yo-OHMIGOD."
Crack!
My armor plates split, steam and greenish fluid gushing out from the seams. I fell to my knees as my not-quite-eyes retracted back into my forehead, leaving me with a literal hole in my face until more of that strange ichor burst out of what was left behind. My claws flaked and fell away, the remains of my armor sloughing off like a cocoon and I opened my mouth, gasping for air. It wasn't painful, exactly. More like stretching a sore muscle, getting energy and circulation back into long ignored joints. The feeling of popping your back after sitting in a car for eight hours.
Satisfaction.
"Ahhh..."
"T-Taylor? Is that you?"
I looked up, the lenses of my formerly orange eyes sliding down my face as I emerged completely naked from the broken pile of insectoid chitin that was my Changer form, "Um... hi?"
Mom stared at me blankly, her mouth opening and closing with no words for just a second before she composed herself, her eyes growing wider and wider...
"What the fu-"
—-
one month ago
"Hey, kiddo."
I... I knew that voice. Somewhere in the background, I... I heard lightbreathinghmmscrubsalcoholnomakeupooohcandyatecandyforbreakpeanutsstrawberrydelicious-
Beep! Beep! Beep!
"Taylor, Taylor! It's me, it's Anne!"
The beeping was so strong and loud and I tried to raise my arms and felt... tied, who's holding me, why am I TIED DOWN?
BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!
I hear muttered cursing, smell MmmlipglossstrawberryImissedyouIKNOWYOU-clanking noises and suddenly release as strong hands grab my shoulders and-
"Taylor!" A voice, female... Anne, "Taylor, listen to me. It's Anne, it's me, kiddo. I'm here with you-" I felt warmtharmsaroundbreathingohhthatisniceIrememberyouImissyouEm- "You're in the hospital, I'm here with you, breathe, Taylor. Please."
BEEP! Beep! Beep.
I opened my eyes and my vision was partially blocked by an unruly mop of blonde hair.
Anne.
I sighed as I felt the warmth and the touch and oh god I'm crying, "I missed you."
There was a... shift next to me and I could feel her smile without seeing it, her breath tickling my ear a bit as she made a sound halfway between a giggle and a sob, "I missed you too."
--
I was sitting in the living room, freshly showered and in my pajamas, the giant pile of what used to be my armor having been shoved unceremoniously out the back door - if it didn't degrade on its own soon, I might have a problem the next time I went out.
My mother was sitting on the sofa, a cup of hot tea in her hands as she studied me.
If I went out again.
"Taylor," Mom's voice was calm, steady in that artificial way I could feel she was forcing herself to be, "I thought... I thought we had an agreement. If you were going to go out and... do something with your powers, we were going to discuss it first."
She took a sip from her cup before continuing, "And about your powers... I know that your eyes got better, but I thought you were just strong? I know you've been pushing yourself recently, but-" Mom waved her arm in the general direction of the back yard, "-that wasn't just strength or good eyesight. I don't even know what to call it!"
"I can get really strong?"
My mother raised an eyebrow at that, "I suppose 'getting really strong' may fall under that purview, but that's not everything, is it? You looked like someone tried to make a bodybuilder out of half of a giant cicada and half of a Cadillac."
That... is an accurate description, considering how I looked before I shed my armor in the absolute messiest way possible. I don't know if we'll ever get that spot out of the hardwood floor, "It doesn't look like that normally. And-" I mimicked her arm waving towards the backyard, "-that is new. I've never done that before. The last time I used my armor, it just kind of... slid back inside me? Melted into my normal skin? That was weird, even for me."
I closed my eyes for a second and felt my heartbeat, slow and peaceful within. I shifted for just a second and felt the beginning of new armor just beneath my skin. Huh, cool.
"Did you get into a fight tonight?"
"Um."
My hesitation was apparently all my mother needed to see. She put her tea cup down and started rubbing her temples., "Taylor. You know what this means, right?"
Ah.
"The PRT."
Shit.
--
one month ago
"Where's Mom?"
Anne was sitting back in the single chair the hospital saw fit to provide, her hair combed back into a loose ponytail, "She's talking with The PRT right now. They... they have a system. Something that tracks events that might result in-"
The PRT? I took a deep breath and smelled oldbloodsogoodnottoolongohnextdoorIcansmellohpissandshitandblood-
"Parahumans. They have a way to figure out who might be a parahuman."
"Yeah." Anne pulled at her scrubs a bit before looking my way again, "It's supposed to be a secret, but Annette told me what happened. What's been happening and... I'm so sorry, Taylor."
I smell saltandtears- ugh, I can't have that happening all the time, "You didn't know?"
"Dad didn't tell me anything," There was a bitter smile on her face as she reached over to hold my hand ohsoftskinlotionusesthesameasEm- "And Emma. She never said anything, even when I asked. Just that you stopped coming over and I was at school and barely heard from anyone and-"
"Anne," My heart felt a little lighter for the first time since... well, in a year and a half, really, "I believe you. And I'm glad you're here."
I did believe her. I could feel her heart rate and how heavy it got when she talked about her Dad and Em... her sister. Steady, strong with a slight increase as she became more and more upset.
No one can lie to me. Not anymore.
Anne smiled and for a minute I'm reminded of why she was my first crush. The first girl I ever looked at as... a girl, really. College had been good to her, considering I still got a bit of a blush on my cheeks when our eyes met, "So why the scrubs? I've... not been in touch either."
Her eyes brightened at the question and I felt her heartbeat quicken a bit in her excitement, "Oh! I've been accepted into the nursing program at UMass! It's the holiday now, so I applied as an aide to get some patient experience in and... well, I found you and Annette here."
It was almost normal, the two of us chatting like the last few months had never happened. Seeing my mother's smile when she finally walked in, the two of us still talking, made the day a little less bleak.
For all of us.
--
Winslow wasn't nearly as foreboding as it used to be. I was used to the smells now, that ever present scent of fear and loneliness bleeding from every person I passed. Boy or girl, skinny or fat, popular or not... it didn't matter. They were all the same, trying to survive with the sense that something awful was going to happen, never knowing where it was going to come from. It would be easy to dismiss them... but they couldn't help it. Not really. It's hard to exist when you feel like the entire world might get pulled out from under you, the vultures always waiting to swoop down and prey on the weak.
"Why the fuck are you even here today, Hebert?" I feel Sophia a heartbeat before I see her and I move just a bit to the left, dodging her hand by a hair's breadth and smiling at her indignant squawk as she's thrown off balance when I'm not there to hit.
"School, studying, working hard so I can eventually get the fuck out of here." I said with barely an inflection to my voice, "What about you? Lose a fight to a door lately?"
Sophia's eyes widen at my words, her gaze both utterly furious and hilarious given the gigantic foam bandage taped to the bridge of her nose. She swiped at me again, fruitless given her game was so easily thrown off. I might even have dodged that one without my powers.
Why was I ever scared of this tool?
-mmmlipglosslotionboughtitforvalentinesdayIREMEMBER-I'm distracted for half a second by Emma in the corner of my eye and Sophia catches the sleeve of my hoodie, forcibly dragging me to face her, "WHAT DID YOU JUS' SAY TO ME, HEBERT?"
I see Sophia wind up and-nostrilsflaremuskoohweLIKETHATheavydownstepmovedontmovewhattodo-and decide in that instant what I'm going to do.
I'm tired of this bullshit.
She connects, my face rolling with it enough so she doesn't break her knuckles against my bones.
I don't move an inch, the tinest trickle of blood oozing out of the corner of my mouth where she connected. Her feral smile melts into shock at my non-reaction, "Ow."
Sophia yanks at my sleeve again and I roll into her, my shoulder planting firmly-mmmsoftsheissofterthanshelooksfeelwarmheartracingnowsweetbloodmuskweLIKEIT-into her chest and pushing her away, bending low and letting her pull my hoodie off completely. She's off balance again, staring incredulously at the empty jacket in her hand as I stand up straight and look her right in the eye. Sophia is tall for a girl, but I've got a few inches on her yet and for the first time she looks... uncertain. It's almost alien compared to how I've seen her for the last nineteen months.
Nineteen months.
Nineteen. Fucking. Months.
I see red.
"I'm done."
She looks absolutely dumbfounded for a moment before her brows contorted in fury, an inarticulate roar of rage escaping her lips as she lunges for me, tossing my hoodie to Emma as I start backpedaling to avoid her. It's a screaming, messy kind of anger, something I can feel washing over me in waves as I scoot and back away from every punch, roll with a surprisingly agile side kick, and I smell mmMDESPERATEWARMFEELHERHEARTMUSKEARTHWANTSYOUCANTASTEIT and finally let her grab me, her face inches from mine and every intoxicating scent in the air leaving me giddy, "The fuck do you mean you're done? We aren't done! Not till I SAY we're done."
We had a crowd now, shouting and jeering, a powder keg in the truest sense. Emma was off to the side, her eyes wide and mmmexcitedsmellssogoodmissyouWANTSyou-
"I said," My hands brush against Sophia's chest mmwarmhot-reaching between her arms and I pulled, slowly breaking her grip on me as that same uncertain look crossed her face again, "I. Am. Done. This whole thing? The fighting and you kicking my ass and all the bullshit you've done to me? It's over."
I look at her face and feel our wrists touching, her heartbeat erratic and... somethingonedgeohohOHSHESJUSTLIKEUS-
We push apart at the same time, identical feelings of surprise and... fear? Both breathing heavy, chests heaving, and something... odd passes between us.
She's a parahuman. We're parahumans.
Behind her, beyond her, I see Emma.
She's smiling.
--
(A/N: Thank you guys for all the support - I love the interactions and ideas going back and forth. It's been... a trying couple of days - forgive the Spider-Man: Homecoming reference, but I needed the laugh and it felt appropriate - and I apologize for the delay on this chapter. For those of you who didn't catch my IRL update, my sister... she's quite sick, but we're dealing. I just got back from Houston and started writing to get a bit of my frustrations out and I think it comes out on the page. Things are getting more intense now as we roll through the end of this arc. Two chapters and an interlude and we'll be in Arc 2! Next chapter drops tomorrow evening...)
Last edited: Jun 17, 2018
352
Mujaki
Jun 17, 2018
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Threadmarks Wake 1.5
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Mujaki
Mujaki
(smells like escalation)
Jun 19, 2018
#117
(A/N: Sat down, was about to post, re-read for posterity's sake... absolutely hated what I did. Almost everything was... not garbage, exactly, but wasn't playing to either the overall story arc, the themes I wanted to express, and everything was too on the nose. So all but one scene - the first scene for the curious - were scrapped and completely redone. I feel better about it now, but if something doesn't flow or feels weirder than normal let me know. Anyway... here we go.)
-- Wake 1.5 --
Principal Herren was at his desk, writing something with a pencil -scritch-scritch-scritch- in silence as Sophia and I sat on opposites sides of the room. We had been in here for almost ten minutes now and while I could content myself with the sounds and scents of nearby students - a scent of waxy foundation indicated that Madison was close by, probably late to class given her absence from our earlier spat - I could also hear Sophia's heart thudding and smell her skin -mmmsaltysweatearthyoooh- as she grew more and more agitated. It didn't help that the room itself was warm, Herren's own unsavory scent mingling with my senses as I saw sweat bleeding through his polo shirt and smelled his heavy use of aerosol deodorant... frankly, I'd rather smell Sophia.
And what an odd realization that was.
"Mr. Herbert-"
"Hebert." Sophia and I said in unison, the sound of our voices jarring to my ears. A quick glance to my side and I saw her giving me the strangest look before turning her gaze away, a grimace on her face.
"Mr. Hebert," Herren's face contorted into its own grimace, throwing his jowls and weak chin into sharp relief in the fluorescent light of his office, "I understand that Miss... Hess has been bothering you this morning? I've been told that it was quite the tussle."
This felt... strange. In the last year and a half of bullying, the administration went out of its way to not only deny any wrongdoing on Emma or Sophia's end but usually ended up with me having a detention or getting sent home for 'teasing those poor girls'. Couldn't have the most popular girl in our grade in trouble or their pet track star out of action for too long. Hell, even the first day of the semester when my mother met with Herren before class, she left more frustrated than before break, muttering about how useless the school district could be.
Things change.
"A tussle, sir?"
Both Sophia and Herren looked my way when I said that and I took the opportunity to open my vision just a little bit... I could see the twitches and tics along his brow, oh he's annoyed, his nose flaring a bit and could hear the sound of blood rushing through his veins, flush along his cheeks and forehead dilating and saw his temples growing a bit red at my words, "Yes, Mr. Hebert. A fight. What happened this morning?"
"I wouldn't call it a tussle." I chose my words carefully, trying to decipher everything my senses were picking up, "Sophia and I, well-"
Sophia was fidgeting in her seat and I could hear her teeth grinding, nails tap-tap-tapping and the idea of her being nervous was setting off all kinds of alarm bells in my mind.
Maybe...
"-We were talking this morning and had a bit of an argument. It happens all the time, you can call in Emma if you want. She'll confirm it."
The pencil in Herren's grip made a barely perceptible crack! and Sophia's head whipped around to meet my gaze so fast I heard her neck pop at the force of the motion. I met her eyes for just a moment and hoped she picked up the bone I had tossed her.
"Yeah. Emma was there, she can tell you."
Herren was starting to look a bit flustered, his pale skin growing blotchy and lips quivering as he spoke, "I'm just trying to look out for our students here. I'm told that my predecessor let things get out of hand one too many times, so I'm here to make sure that kind of nonsense stops here."
"No nonsense here, sir."
"Yeah, what the wi-Hebert said."
He leaned over his desk, eyes directly on Sophia, "You'll find that I'm not the type to suffer fools gladly, particularly when they like to pick on the more upstanding members of our sophomore class. You are dismissed."
Sophia stood up, tossed her backpack over her shoulder, and stalked out the door. Her eyes had met mine again for a brief moment - that weird look still there - but I shook my head at the thought of it.
Something to deal with later.
I got up and started to grab my things when I suddenly heard Herren pipe up, "Why don't you stick around a moment, Mr. Hebert. Close the door while you're up."
The door closed with a gentle click! and I turned around to see Herren sitting back in his chair, his sleeves rolled up and arms folded over his considerable paunch. On his left arm, peeking out from one flabby bicep was the tip... no, two tips of a tattoo. He didn't seem to notice my eyes wandering as he started to speak, "Now, Mr. Hebert... would you like to tell me what really happened out there this morning?"
"It's just like I said, sir. Sophia and-"
"Now, Mr. Hebert," Herren leaned forward again, his arms spread wide in what he probably thought was a friendly gesture, "I can understand you being afraid of repercussions. I read your file, I know you've had a tough time of it recently."
He took my silence as a prompt to go on, "It's a terrible thing, isn't it? Seeing her kind running around, thinking they're better than you? Well, I'm here to tell you, Taylor, that it simply isn't true. You are special. Better than many of the riffraff that walks these halls, even if you don't realize it."
Ah. I wonder... I took a quick glance at his arm again and tried to see as hard as I could. His polo shirt was light, airy, see-through...
A stylized 'S', a pair of them right next to each other.
Herren smiled, "Whenever you're ready to talk, Taylor," My name felt filthy coming out of his mouth, "My door is always open. I'm sure you'll be able to find some new friends and start fitting in soon enough."
--
I couldn't get out of Herren's office fast enough, feeling liked I had been dipped in grease and mud, keeping a tight rein on my emotions until I was out the door into the hallway.
Fuck.
Fuckfuckfuck.
I wasn't paying attention and sure enough, I felt a hand grab me by the shoulder and turn me around. Sophia was in my face, "What the fuck did you tell him, Hebert?"
"I didn't tell him anything."
"Bull. Shit. I saw him keep you in his office after I got out. What did you tell him?"
I grabbed Sophia's hand and pried it off of me, pinning her wrist over her head against the wall, "I didn't tell him a goddamned thing, Sophia. I didn't make all that shit up while you were in there just to spill to a fucking Nazi as soon as you walked out."
I heard Sophia growl from somewhere deep in her chest and she got in my face again, pulling against my arm, "The fuck do you mean he's a Nazi?"
She swatted at my face with her other hand, forcing me to drop my bag and grab her other hand and push it against the locker as I spoke, "Tattoo on his arm. Wasn't too fond of you. Thought I needed to make some new 'friends'-" Sophia snorted at that, "-and all but wanted me to spill everything you've ever done to me for the barest excuse to slap you down."
"Like that fucker could do shit to me."
"Maybe not. But he probably knows someone who can."
Sophia's head dropped a bit, her face close enough that I could feel her breath-oohhotsweetfeelsgood-against the skin of my cheeks, "Fucking great... get off of me, Hebert."
I let her go, waiting for her to do something, but she just rubbed her wrists before giving me a hateful glare, "When did you grow a spine?"
"When do you think?"
Sophia's eyes narrowed for a moment before a look of recognition crossed her face, "You."
"Yeah. You too."
Her hand shot out and grabbed a handful of my shirt, dragging me behind her into the girls' bathroom and startling a pair of freshmen with cigarettes in their mouths, their eyes wide as she pulled me in front of her and slammed me against the wall, "Bitches, LEAVE! And don't say a fucking word about this."
The other girls run out like the devil is at their heels and I'm left alone with Sophia Hess.
I remember a time when that was something I would avoid at all costs, being alone with Emma the only thing that could edge it out.
"You should thank me, you know that Hebert?"
What? "What?"
"You," She took her pointer finger and drilled it right into my chest, "Should thank me. I can see it now, the ninja bullshit and the pretending to let me smack you around like I need you of all people to fucking take pity on my feelings. You should be fucking thankful every day that whatever happened to you made you stronger. You," Sophia made a face as though she had swallowed something sour, "Are a survivor."
"A... survivor?"
"Yeah. You went through some shit. You came back. Now you're better than you were before. Stronger."
Stronger.
I wanted to be strong.
It didn't sit well with me, the horrific shit she and Emma had engineered that just happened to make me... "I'm stronger now."
"You grew a spine. Better late than never, I guess."
My head snapped up at that, but my hackles died down just as quickly when I saw her face... she looked dour rather than happy about this, "Yeah. Now you know."
"You know who I am?"
I looked at her, seeing a multitude of tiny scars and imperfections, regrown skin on her eyebrows, sunken clavicle on the left side probably broken at some point before pulling it back in. Given where we were, I wasn't going to smell her again, but I already had plenty of information from that, "No. I just know that you're like me. Parahuman."
"Good," She spat, "That's one less thing to worry about. You can tell who has powers?"
"Only if I'm close to them, I think. I don't know what you do, though."
"It's better that you don't. And you don't want to spread that shit around either."
"Do you really think I'm going to tell anyone? I didn't even know I could do that until this morning."
"I fucking mean it, Hebert," Sophia got back in my face, pushing me against the wall, "You don't go around telling people you've got powers, you don't go around outing anyone who does, and you don't make a goddamned peep about the fact you can tell who has them."
"Right," I laughed, slapping her hands aside like her... physicality didn't bother me at all, "Like you aren't going to go squeal to Emma the minute you get out of here."
Sophia rolled her eyes at that, "Please, she already knows. She's known since the first day you came back. I'm the one who didn't believe her."
"What?"
"Look, I'd love to stick around and play house some more, but I've got shit to do." Sophia hoisted her bag over her shoulder again, "You know this doesn't change a fucking thing between us, right."
Of course. "Like I expected anything else."
Instead of the smug smile I expected, Sophia just looked... troubled, "Yeah, well we'll see what happens."
--
My day went by smoothly after that, even with the knowledge that the school was run by an actual Nazi. It wasn't until the final bell rang and I was outside that I remembered that my mother was picking me up today.
Sophia had her feelings about outing capes and now I was about to go and out myself to The PRT. It wasn't something I looked forward to, but...
...Mom was nervous, I could see that much, but far more composed than she was last night. She just wanted me safe and in turn I wanted her to be safe. We were all the family we had left, and that didn't leave many options.
"Taylor," She reached over to put a hand over mine, a tight smile on her face, "It's the right thing to do."
Sometimes I wondered if she was the one with powers, given how she always seemed to know what to say, "I know."
We had parked in a nondescript garage a block or so down from the PRT Building - someone would come down to bring us in via a discreet entrance underground once we were ready. I leaned back a moment and tried to focus my hearing, picking up the chittering of beetle ants on parade a spider plucking at its web trying to draw a moth closer to the trap and knowing that I had backup, just in case. Mom had contacted a lawyer and gotten a crash course in Cape Politicking when I... got my powers, and she had the same firm on speed dial just in case things went sour here. It's better to be prepared for anything, and I filtered down my sense until all I was picking up was our general area.
"I think I'm ready, Mom."
"Good." Mom seemed to hesitate for a moment before reaching back behind my seat, pulling a small box out from the rear pocket, "I got this for you. They tend to be pretty good about privacy and I know you don't need a traditional costume, but you'll need this when we walk in."
The box was small and thin, bigger than the kind you'd get when buying a necklace-don'tthinkaboutthatgreengoldEm-and I pulled the top of it clean off. Inside was a simple cloth mask in green and black.
"It's time."
I pulled the mask over my face, my other senses compensating for the slight loss of peripheral vision, and looked at my hands... curling them into fists.
I can do this.
Time to go and become a Ward.
--
(A/N: Yes, the original RoboCop is in fact an awesome movie. One chapter and an interlude left in Arc 1. Next chapter due tomorrow...)
Last edited: Jun 20, 2018
364
Mujaki
Jun 19, 2018
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Mujaki
Mujaki
(smells like escalation)
Jun 21, 2018
#154
(A/N: Full steam ahead. Here we go...)
-- Wake 1.6 --
"Are you alright? You seem... distracted."
Miss Militia's voice was at once wary and concerned, though I can understand that considering she was basically told I was a super-strong teenager with fancy senses who could turn into a giant bug-man on a whim. To be fair to her, I was distracted... the PRT Building was a cavalcade of sounds and smells and oh so many people working in close proximity. Winslow had ceased to be overwhelming after my first day back, but this place?
This was new.
"I'm okay. Just... a bit overwhelmed with a new place," It was... odd talking to someone new, let alone a bonafide hero like Miss Militia, "And a bit nervous."
I could hear her smile, the lightest touch of her lips against fabric, even though I couldn't see it, "You'll do well, I promise. We have a good group of kids here, all of them learning how to master their abilities. I'm sure you will all become great friends."
"I... I hope so."
Thinking about the other Wards still felt a little unreal to me, despite having gone out and bumping into a couple villains myself last night. Of course, I knew who they were for the most part - they had come and done a presentation at Winslow the year before. It was a bit silly, with Madison and I laughing more at the obvious boredom Vista and Clockblocker had demonstrated then the goofy 'Engaged Citizens' speech Triumph had given...
Madison... damn. I really do need to meet new people.
I don't think I was especially introverted, exactly. Mom and I kind of had our own little world at home - reading, watching Shakespeare movies, helping her grade papers in-between sketching on my notepad. I didn't have friends at school because... I used to think it was because the other people in my grade preferred to laugh at me rather than help. After getting my powers, using my senses to hear and smell...
They were afraid. Afraid of repercussions, scared of social suicide, outright fearing becoming just like me. I could be angrier that no one raised a hand to help me, that no one bothered to back me up when I would tell the teachers what was going on. But at the end of the day, I couldn't blame them for it. Not really. There was a... hole there, something I couldn't quite place. Mom helped the best she could, taking me to the University on the weekends, letting me work at Olympia's, going on trips to Boston and New York. But it wasn't the same. I wanted a friend. I thought Madison might have been someone I could depend on - the spacey girl was a lot more social than Em... Emma, dragging me to other tables at lunch, chatting up anyone and everyone. That kind of energy was infectious and we would go out and do things I hadn't done before, like going to the Boardwalk just to walk around and people-watch and goof around on the beach.
And then Emma happened.
I wanted another friend.
I didn't want to hurt again.
"Taylor," I feel a hand on my shoulder, pulse slow and steady, "We're here."
The Wards were located somewhere beneath the PRT Building proper, somewhere that had to be below the foundations of the other buildings downtown. I couldn't tell in the elevator - which had to be some kind of Tinkertech because once the doors closed, my senses were completely cut off. It was... disconcerting to be so limited again, relying just on the information of a room about the size of a small closet. After the elevator was a well-lit corridor gently bathed in the kind of light that, if you didn't already know, you would have no idea wasn't coming from above ground. Miss Militia had put her thumb to a small glass fixture next to a completely flat door - only the seams giving away that it wasn't part of the hallway proper. After about thirty seconds, a green light illuminated the seam and a handle flipped outward from one end of the frame, "Shall we?"
The room was shaped like a dome, high ceilings with segmented tiles every few feet, and the floor was large enough my entire house could sit comfortably inside. Twice over. There was a futuristic looking console off to the left, ringed with a number of flat-screen monitors and a big, cushy chair in front of it, and towards the center of the room was a large table shaped like a semi-circle, a couple of large whiteboards off to the side of it and... was that a hologram of the cit-
"Hey! You must be the new Ward!" I hear a voice from the far side of the room - coming out of a door I hadn't noticed just yet was an athletic-looking kid wearing jeans, a plain black t-shirt, and a rust-colored helmet, "I'm Aegis. The others should be out shortly."
Aegis strides over and gives my hand a firm shake, "Whoa, good grip there."
"I was under the impression everyone would be available today?" Miss Militia's tone is light, but Aegis suddenly looks a little sheepish.
"Yeah, well we got some weird intel from Shadow Stalker and we wanted to see if you or Armsmaster wanted to counsel us on what to do about it."
Another door opens and a short girl wearing a green visor walks out, her mouth wide open mid-yawn. Aegis puts a hand to his forehead before continuing, "Though some of us wanted to rest a bit first."
"At ease, Aegis. I'll let Armsmaster know. In the meantime, let's get introductions out of the way."
Vista, tired as she was, was friendly enough. She did get sent away to go and fetch Kid Win - something about him losing track of time - leaving me alone with Aegis, "How many of you are active at any one time?"
"With you, we'll be full up for the first time in a couple of months. Triumph 'graduated', so to speak, so he's a member of the Protectorate now," Aegis chuckled, "I'll wait till everyone gets out here before asking you what your powers are - it's kind of a tradition around here."
"Mmm... good idea," I said, doing my best not to sound too distracted, but Aegis was throwing my senses for a loop. I smelled hair follicles under more hair no waste barely any effort breathing and heard... did he have three separate heartbeats?
"Hey! Who's the new fish?" A boy about my height comes out wearing most of what looked like a silver tinkertech suit and-oohsmellslikeoilandglass-a simple domino mask on his face. Like Aegis, he strode right up to me and put out an armored hand, "I'm Gallant, it's a pleasure to have you here."
"Sorry! Sorry, I got caught up working on-" A brown-haired boy came stumbling out of another door, a red visor stuck haphazardly on his face and bits of random tech on a belt swinging loosely from his waist, "-Oh hell. You're here! Hey! I'm Kid Win."
"Yeah, ignore him. He's always like this." A vaguely distorted female voice rang out from the last door on the far side of the room, "Never has his shit together."
"Shadow Stalker, language," Aegis replied as I heard his brows crinkling against his helmet, stern tone in his voice, "We have a new member to introduce."
A black-clad figure walked out into the commons, her outfit stuck somewhere between a catsuit from one of those old spy movies Dad used to watch and something more utilitarian, body armor in one long curved piece on the front and plates wrapping around each leg. Her mask was different than the others, the face actually molded into the visage of a stern-looking woman, though she was likely my age. She didn't have her cloak or weaponry, but Shadow Stalker was one of the few Wards that the media had candid photographs of, taken by passersby on the streets. That carved face looks my direction and then... freezes.
A draft blows through and I'm inundated with the scent of dirt and grass, sweat and nerves and... oooearthyspicewelikeitweKNOWYOU.
Aegis coughs in the silence that follows, but I pay him no heed as I walk towards Shadow Stalker. I vaguely hear Miss Militia saying... something behind me, but that's not important right now. She's walking my direction too, her stride less purposeful as it was when she first walked out, less full of that casual pride and now her nerves were firing at one hundred miles a second and sweat and fear rolled into...
"You." I pull my mask off.
To her credit, she only hesitates for a moment before reaching behind her head and prying the clasps off, that formidable mask revealing a face only inches away from mine, staring at me wide-eyed, "You."
"Hello, Sophia."
"Woo! Sorry about that, I was just talking to my Dad an-" A new voice breaks the silence and every head in the room whips around to see the newcomer - a lanky redhead with a damn scarf wrapped around his mouth, "Oh, um... hi. Do you two know each other?"
--
It made too much sense. Emma was a master of setting things up so I would take the fall, but Sophia was the muscle. She was the one organizing and bullying others into place, getting the other athletes to chase me down or, less often, beat my ass into the ground. Madison just kind of went along with everything - she wanted to be popular, and if the most popular girl in our grade was doing horrendous shit to me, she took part in it. The occasional stuffed bear and candy bar she would leave in my seat wasn't enough of an apology for the next ridiculous thing she took part in.
I kept every one of them.
Emma had her Dad, her 'friends', and her popularity, but all Sophia had was her status as a track star and being Emma's friend. So how would she have gotten away with half of the bullshit she did? The answer had literally been staring me in the face a couple of days ago. Sophia wasn't just some random parahuman.
She was a Ward.
And now? So am I.
Three days. Mom hatched out the paperwork with the Deputy Director and Armsmaster while I dealt with the fact that Sophia fucking Hess was a Ward. I was to go to school on alternating half-days, same as Sophia. I would go to work for Mr. Columbu on my short days - Sophia was allowed to take part in Track during this time - and we would both meet up and head to the PRT Building together in the evenings. Mom had been livid when I told her who I would be working with and was a hair's breadth away from calling the PRT to tell them to take their offer and shove it up their collective posteriors until I pointed out that, unfortunately, we couldn't pin a damn thing on Sophia. The beatings at school she took part in? My word against everyone else in Emma's group. The texts and emails so obscene I ended up having to change my phone number? All anonymous or sent from dummy accounts. The... the fucking locker room? I heard someone calling her name, but I never saw her there and was concussed...
She hated it.
I couldn't blame her.
The second night the tension in the commons was so thick that Carlos - Aegis' real name, I learned - dragged us both to Miss Militia in an effort to 'mediate' an understanding between the two of us. Sophia and I were on the same page for a change... we didn't want anyone prying into our business, though we were coaxed into promising to watch each other's back when I was allowed to take the field. I still had to go and do power testing in a couple of days, given that the previous information they had on file was grossly inaccurate now. But even with the silence and the tension... we had a strange detente.
We were the 'Winslow' kids... the other Wards - aside from Vista, who attended a private Middle School south of downtown - went to Arcadia, the nicest high school in town. I had applied for Arcadia once upon a time, encouraged by my mother, and Emma didn't want to be left behind. I tutored her after school for weeks and then the first month of summer that year I would go over and we would have the house to ourselves, having fun in the mornings and spending every afternoon studying. I got in on scholarship.
Emma didn't make it.
I didn't go.
Armsmaster didn't want me to go to Arcadia - he liked the idea of having two Wards at Winslow, especially after we told him about Herren. I would have thought Sophia would be smug at the thought of me being stuck in that hellhole with her. Based on the distressed look in her eyes and the pulsing thud-thud-thud of her heartbeat, I was wrong.
--
There were new cameras in the hallways at Winslow.
--
"Hi, Taylor!" Madison pulled her desk over to sit next to me, a big smile on her dopey face, "Did you get the homework done yet?"
I stared at her as if she had grown a second head, "What are you doing over here?"
My senses went into overdrive as I heard giggles not at me some cat thing on the phone Greg's buddy must have just toked up no cameras no makeup and I looked at Madison. She was pulling her book out and fishing her notes out of her backpack and I was hit with such a feeling of deja vu that I couldn't breathe for half a second. She had walked over here and gone through the same routine she did... back in Mrs. Evans class. Like nothing had changed.
"You're so silly, Taylor! Let's compare notes!" I could hear the utter sincerity in her voice, her pulse steady, not nervous happy so happy to talk again, "Mom made muffins last night and they were so good, I even brought you some! It'll be so nice to have you come over again..."
--
There were new students walking the halls of Winslow, blonde-haired and blue-eyed.
Half of the football team is gone.
--
I was standing in the middle of an enormous room at Protectorate Headquarters - a repurposed oil rig sitting in the middle of the bay, completely souped up with Tinkertech - surrounded with nondescript white walls that gave the impression that the room was endless. It would seem that way, at least, if you didn't have my senses. The air was sterile, much like the elevator at the PRT Building downtown, and if it wasn't for the number of floating drones buzzing through the air it would be nearly soundproof as well.
"Alright, Skitter-" I loathed the name that PR had tentatively stuck to my file, "Are you ready?"
"Yeah."
I sank into my senses and ooohsaltbarelytasteitallovermyclothesnofoundationtodaymaybeperfume-
The room shifted and the white walls gleamed with all colors of the rainbow, the drones displacing air in little puffs! and circling me leaving trails of heat behind them. I stretched and felt my back pop into place, my claws extending forth, and my footpads resting comfortably beneath me, "Ahh..."
There was a moment of silence before I heard the click-click-click of someone typing furiously on a keyboard and someone spoke out on the intercom, a soothing female voice that sounded just a bit... artificial? Weird, it must be the speaker, "Excellent, Skitter! We're getting so much information just based on the observation! Do you think you can fly around the room a bit for us?"
What the..?
"I can't fl-" I felt the strange sensation of... extra arms on my back? I turned my head and saw it - an enormous wing, razor sharp and translucent, shaped like that of a cicada. Two of them. I gave a tentative flap and my wings fluttered to life, a lovely buzz as my footpads left the ground and I hovered in the air, my perfect balance always keeping me upright, "I can fly."
I can fucking fly!
--
Mom was going to be out of town for a couple of days longer than expected, "Look, sweetheart, I'll be back as soon as I'm able! This is the first time our debate team has made it to the semi-finals and-"
"Mom! I get it." I laughed, feeling a bit of her excitement bleed into me - the debate team had been a pet project of hers for a couple of years now and her hard work was finally bearing fruit, "I'll be fine! Miss Militia told me that they weren't going to put me on patrol till you get back. It's Valentine's Day, so I'll probably be stuck on console anyway. Vista tells me it's always a boring shift."
"It still strikes me as strange she's technically the senior... tutor in your study group, as young as she is. You need to invite some of them over when I get back." My end of the line was secure, courtesy of the shiny new phone the PRT had paid for, but Mom did her best to be discreet when she was in public.
"I will, Mom. Have fun."
The walk home from Olympia's was boring, but it was another opportunity to build up some stamina. That I had a box full of pastries soon to be devoured was just a bonus. It was strange to think of how different my life had become in three weeks. Three weeks of Madison doing her level best to ingratiate herself in my life again, uncomprehending of why I wasn't as excited as she was that we were "allowed" to hang out again. Three weeks of virtual silence from the jeers and laughter from the other students. Three weeks of working alongside the worst of my tormentors, though at least I knew she was as uncomfortable with the upheaval in our situation as I was. Three weeks of silence from...
My bedroom light is on.
I immediately continue walking past my own house, circling around a bush at the corner to run around to my backyard and hop the fence in a single easy movement. My senses opened in a rush of mmmsomeoneisheresmellsgoodlookatthechair-information and without taking my eyes off of the back door, I ran my fingers under the rocking chair.
The spare key was gone.
Calmly, carefully, I walked inside my unlocked back door and entered the house. Nothing looked disturbed or out of place - I cracked the door to the basement and immediately surmised no one was hiding downstairs - so I set the box full of goodies onto the kitchen table and headed up to the second floor. My bedroom door was cracked open, a single bar of light escaping from between the wall and the door itself, catching my eyes as I made my way up the stairs. I could hear a heartbeat, unsteady, nervous, a hint of perfume and lipglossandohwEMiSSEdYOU-
I pushed my door open and saw Emma sleeping on my bed, red hair splayed out over my pillow like a waterfall and wearing a green dress that gently wrapped around her body, ending just above her knees, her high heels tossed onto the floor beside it. The door creaked as it opened, and I saw her stir and roll over, blinking at the light overhead and still sleepy-eyed when she saw me, her arms stretching out above her head as she yawned, "Taaaylor."
I'm still as a statue as she gives me a genuine smile, her heart racing in excitement, happy to see me, happy I'm here missedyousomuchwearinglipglossneverforgotaboutus!
She stretches again, her dress riding up her legs as she curls them to the side, back arching as she yawns once more, and I see something that stops my heart.
Just above her chest, swinging from a real gold chain is a bit of carved jade held in place by carefully molded clasps in the shape of her initials.
My necklace, my necklace.
I feel her take my hand and sit me next to her on the bed, and suddenly Emma is in my arms, hugging me like... like she used to, pulling us closer until we molded so firmly together you could hardly tell where we ended or began, and I hear her mumble something into my chest that I knew was going to make the ground rise up and swallow us whole, darkness, hate, and bitterness pressing my feelings into a new, bizarre form, hard as a diamond, brittle as glass.
"I've missed you. I've missed you so much."
--
(A/N: One more chapter to go for Arc 1... see you tomorrow...)
Last edited: Jun 21, 2018
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Mujaki
Jun 21, 2018
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Threadmarks Interlude 1.b - Valentine's Day
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Mujaki
Mujaki
(smells like escalation)
Jun 22, 2018
#265
(A/N: Keeping it short - full comments post-chapter. I do include bits of dialogue from Interlude 19 given that event's importance to the chapter at hand. I would have replied to the conversation sooner, but I figured you guys would prefer a new chapter first. It's a doozy. Fun fact: This chapter has been in the works since I started writing this thing. Here we go...)
--
Emma
fifteen years ago
Taylor's first word was 'Mom'.
Emma's first word was 'Tay'.
--
ten years ago
"Emma, are you all washed up? Taylor is going to be here soon."
"Yes, mama." Emma is bouncing on the balls of her feet with excitement, her fluffy pink dress swaying from side to side. It had been so long since Aunt Annie and Uncle Danny had come by - Mama said that Aunt Annie had to go away for a little bit to finish school and Emma was amazed that you still had to go to school when you were old! She hadn't even known there were schools in Boston. Why go so far away?
Anne wasn't even old and she had to go to school for the whole day. She spent most of her time reading now, not caring about 'baby games' with her anymore... though she always managed to come play for a little bit when Taylor came over. It was easy to be happy around Taylor, all smiles and talking - so much talking - and they would go outside with Anne and spend the whole day at the park before coming home and smushing together on the big chair to watch The Little Mermaid. Emma wasn't sure if Taylor and Anne liked it as much as she did - she always dressed up as Ariel - but they were always happy to sit together and sing along with her.
Those were good days. Better than the days she would sneak downstairs for a cookie and see Mama and Daddy on the couch, crying together while holding a weird black and white picture of... Emma was never sure what it was.
"Anne! Anne, Anne, Anne!" She squealed when she saw her sissy walk into the kitchen, holding a big book in her hands that she put on the counter with a heavy thud!, "I need you to help me pick out some jewl-jewel-some necklaces for Taylor to look at!"
"Eh-mah," Her sissy always said her name like that when she was busy, "Do you think that's something Taylor wants to do? Boys don't like looking at jewelry."
Emma stopped dead in her tracks, her heart dropping all the way into her stomach at Sissy's words.
"Taylor is a boy?!"
--
five years ago
Taylor is a boy, Emma had the realization as they were laying together in the hammock in the backyard, curled up next to him while he was trying to draw the tree in front of them. The gentle swaying of the hammock coupled with the light breeze wasn't doing his line work any favors if his muttered curses were a hint. She just smiled and thought about this crucial bit of information she had gleaned.
To be fair, Taylor didn't act like any other boy she had ever met. He didn't look much like them either - Taylor was pretty, with pale skin, a long face, big glasses over hazel eyes, and a wide mouth that was good for smiles. He was really skinny like Uncle Danny too, which made Emma a little jealous sometimes because she was getting kind of chubby lately, but everything else made him look kinda like his Mom. Aunt Annie liked books, drawing, and talking and she must have taught these things to Taylor somehow because there were times when he was as stuffy as she could be. The other boys at school liked running around, play fighting, and sports - Taylor wasn't like that, even if he would go running with Aunt Annie in the mornings sometimes. He was always in his room drawing something or downstairs in the basement with a little toolkit, taking apart the little chains and screws from cheap necklaces and old reading glasses, and Emma would have to drag him away from everything so they could spend time together. She would get so frustrated with him sometimes...
And then he would give her a drawing he made of her sitting down on the floor or laying in bed, and Emma would immediately forgive him again because he hadn't forgotten about her.
"Hey, Ems," Taylor shook her out of her daydream, one skinny arm around her shoulder, "Today's Valentine's Day, isn't it?"
"Really? I hadn't noticed."
She had.
"Well, I was thinking," He had set his book down beside them, the fancy pencil he used tucked behind his ear against the rim of his glasses, "Why don't we do something you want to do?"
"Really?" Emma had thoughts for a moment that made her blush and she quickly shoved them away before she could open her mouth and embarrass herself, "Anything at all?"
"Not anything," Her heart plummeted at his words before she saw the big grin on his face, "We can't go rob a bank or something like that."
"You JERK!" Emma swatted at his chest, ignoring her own giggles, "You know what I mean."
"I know, I know," Taylor said, raising his arms in surrender, "But we haven't had a movie night in a while. I can see if Aunt Zoe will let me bake us some cookies-" Emma giggled in delight "-and we can go and be bums inside."
It was getting a little chilly outside - the weather being unusually warm for winter in Brockton Bay was what led them out here to begin with - so Emma concluded this was a wise decision.
Taylor was a boy but he didn't think like a boy.
Emma liked that about him.
--
three years ago
Emma holds Taylor's hand during Uncle Danny's funeral.
They cry themselves to sleep in his bed together.
When Emma wakes up the next morning, she finds the door wide open and Aunt Annie asleep on the other side of Taylor, fresh tears in her eyes even in her dreams.
--
two years ago
"Anne," Emma twirled around in her sister's room, her new dress fluttering around her knees, "How does this look?"
"'s'alright."
She spun around to face her sister - Anne was lazily paging through a Biology textbook instead of looking at her, "You didn't even look!"
"Fine, fine," Her sister gazes up to see Emma preening in the mirror, "Hm. Don't you think that's a little..."
"What?"
"...too," Anne motions to her top, "revealing?"
Emma looks back at the mirror and adjusts herself, a goofy smile on her face, "That's the whole point, Sissy."
Anne raises her eyebrow at that, "First of all, you're thirteen-" Emma snorts at this, knowing her sister is probably just jealous that she can fit into Anne's bras already "-second, Mom would never let you leave the house like that and finally, I don't think Taylor is..."
"Is what?" She reexamines herself in the mirror and feels the disappointment set in when she realizes that Anne is probably right - Mom would kill her stone dead if she walked out of the house wearing this.
She hears Anne sigh behind her, "I just don't think this is the best way to get his attention."
Anne was always a little... weird when it came to talking about Taylor, Emma noticed. She was in college most of the time now, so the last time she had seen him was when he and Aunt Annie had come over for Christmas. He was helpful as always, helping Mom and Aunt Annie out in the kitchen and doting on Emma whenever he had the chance. She had felt a little twinge of jealousy when Taylor had tried to involve Anne into the conversations, asking her about school and if the classes were hard and what she wanted to do when she was done - and Emma had definitely noticed Taylor's gaze follow the light sway of Anne's hips when Mom had called her over to the table. But she knew nothing would happen because it was Anne. She would laugh at his jokes, pat him on the head, and call him 'kiddo' in that way that made Taylor freeze for a second before a rueful smile would bloom on his face. But Anne wasn't her. Anne wasn't here all the time and she didn't know what Taylor liked and didn't like.
Still, she had a point - she couldn't go out like this, "I'm going to go change."
Emma wanted everything to be perfect. The right outfit, the right atmosphere... she had begged her Dad for weeks to let them go to a movie by themselves, pleading and haggling the number of chores she would be willing to do - yes, she would rake the yard (no, Daddy, I won't make Taylor do it) and yes, she would clean her bathroom till it shined - until he finally caved. True, Anne was going to play chaperone for them, but she was going to a different movie than they were.
Hmm... maybe this one? Emma held up the green blouse that Taylor had bought her for Christmas - she had never been a fan of the color growing up, preferring pinks and whites - just like Ariel - but Taylor swore up and down that she would look great in green. It matches your eyes, he said, and she held it up to herself in the mirror. Why not?
It had been a little loose when Taylor had bought it for her, but now it fits her perfectly - his eye was uncanny sometimes, zooming in on the last item in her size on a clearance rack and bringing it to her and Mom. Of course, he's drawn me enough times that he should know everything by now... Her room was filled with Taylor's art. Sketches of trees and flowers from around town, a wild black and neon yellow painting above her bed, and pictures of her. Dozens of them, all pinned around her vanity.
She had Taylor's attention. Emma just wanted everything else too.
When she walked downstairs wearing the blouse and a simple black skirt, her Mom had positively squealed with glee and Taylor, himself dressed in a nice button-up shirt and clean jeans, gave her a wide smile.
Everything was perfect.
--
nineteen months ago
Emma was excited. Taylor had snuck his phone into his Art Class and had sent her a picture of his professor holding a gigantic pair of tongs over a fire, the accompanying caption reading "It's real gold!" and she couldn't help but feel a little envious of him, getting to escape the Bay for a little while. Maybe it was being apart from him for the first time since... since she could remember, really, but in the week he had been gone, Emma had come to an important conclusion about Brockton Bay.
It sucked. The ocean air she had loved as a child felt more like the scent of rusty decay, especially since the docks had fallen to gang warfare after Uncle Danny had passed away. Life had sucked then too... Taylor had become almost a different person overnight, no matter how much Emma had begged and cried and tried to make him smile again. She had been mad then, too, when Anne had taken Taylor - by themselves - out in her new car for a day during Spring Break, but when they had come back Taylor had come to her room and apologized, a cinnamon roll in his hand 'for penance', he said. Then they curled up in her bed together and spent the night watching cartoons and she had forgiven him. She forgave Anne too once she had realized that Taylor had his smile back.
Even if it had been without her.
Still, Emma was excited. Not just for having a real gold necklace coming to her in the future, but because Taylor was doing something he loved. The other pictures he had sent had him smiling in a way she hadn't seen in a long time, not since their not-a-date (she remembered being a bit irritated that Anne was right again about him being clueless that going to dinner and a movie meant it was a date). She knew he had his eye on the future, trying his hardest to get them both into Arcadia, that way they could both go to a nice college far away because even though his Mom and her family were here, he knew that she wanted to leave one day and never come back. He was thoughtful like that.
And a small part of her melted when he told her that he was going to Winslow with her instead of Arcadia.
She almost missed her Dad talking to her over her own thoughts and the noise of the road, "Ballet, horseback riding, modeling classes or violin. Pick one, Emma. One."
"Or, or, or, maybe I don't pick any, and…"
--
one year ago
"Hey, Emma?"
"Hmm?"
Sophia sounded... nervous? That was weird - the other girl was almost always unflappable. It was something Emma admired about her, "Do you wanna.. go and do something tonight? I don't know."
Emma checked the calendar on her phone, "Ugh, why? It's Valentine's day and all these... couples are going to be out." She knew Taylor wasn't going to be out and about, that might be fun, but she didn't want to take the chance that he was out with someone else, "I don't wanna do anything tonight."
"...No reason."
--
three days ago
"Yes, is Dr. Hebert in today? I need to check on a due date for an assignment and I really need to make sure it's not going to be late."
"I'm sorry, Miss. Dr. Hebert is out of town with the debate team and she's going to be gone till-" A sound of fingernails on a keyboard "-next Wednesday, I think. You should be able to contact her via email and-"
"That's all I needed to know, thank you."
--
today
The spare key was still where it used to be and Emma smiled.
Soon.
She didn't need Sophia to confirm it - it was plain to see with her own eyes. Taylor was different.
Stronger.
It was so hard to contain her excitement, to keep from grabbing him, pulling him into an empty bathroom, and kissing him till they couldn't breathe anymore. It had been nearly a month since they came back from Christmas break and even though he tried to hide it, you could see it in his walk. Everything about Taylor was different. He was perfect.
Nothing would be able to hurt her. Not anymore.
Sophia was the one who taught her about life. Eat or be eaten. Hunt or be hunted. But Emma knew that there was more than one kind of strength. She saw Taylor broken before and he had somehow put himself back together even better. More doting, more empathetic, everything she loved about him was... amplified after Uncle Danny had died. Taylor was a nice boy. He became more than that when he had put his pieces back together. He was already a survivor. She had just needed Sophia's help to prove it.
She was so mad the night she had found out Taylor had ended up in the hospital and she let Sophia know it - how can he prove himself if he might never wake up again? She had seen other people in the hospital before with bad hits to the head... sometimes they were never the same. Her eyes had twitched and her hands curled into fists and she saw Sophia step back when she realized that no, she wasn't happy that The Plan had gone off the rails and no, she fucking wasn't happy that Taylor might never come back to school. She had thrown Sophia out of her house and stormed up to her room and screamed.
When she saw Sophia in a hospital bed of her own that night, sweating and wan, waiting for Panacea to come by and give her a 'check-up', she had forgiven her.
It was Anne who told her that Taylor was fine, better than fine even. She had also eyed Emma strangely and told her that whatever she had in mind for Taylor, she needed to stop it.
Like Anne knew what Taylor needed.
Taylor needed strength. He needed to be able to stand up for himself (and her). He needed to feel safe in his own bed at night.
She hadn't slept well in months.
Emma hadn't been to the Hebert household in ages, but a sense of familiarity guided her up the stairs and into the bathroom to change. Her hair done, her dress smoothed out (she had wanted to wear his favorite blouse again, but had sadly popped the top buttons clean off the second day back at school), she decided to go into his bedroom and wait. It was almost a time capsule... a room lost in time almost exactly as she remembered it. There were a few new touches... there was only one picture of them together on his mirror, tucked away behind a small army of teddy bears she could have sworn he didn't used to have. His art was still all over the place... she was so glad that he never gave it up.
Taylor was going places... and she would be right there beside him.
Forever.
She absently toyed with the chain around her neck, the weight of the necklace gave her comfort during the worst nights.
The bed smelled like him and she decided to indulge herself and sprawl across it, taking in the memories and sights and how she missed him so much.
She wanted this new Taylor. She wanted to know every bit of him. She wanted to see how he had broken twice and reformed himself so much stronger each time. How he could face someone like Sophia with a smirk on his lips.
How he could protect them both from the world she wanted to conquer. A world that didn't involve Brockton Bay.
It was that thought that sent Emma to sleep.
A lullaby for the girl who wanted everything...
--
Next... Prelude 2.0 - My December
(A/N: And we are done with Arc 1! I'm going to take a day or so to make sure my outline is correct, then we roll full speed ahead into Arc 2 on Saturday. I have to say that I'm ridiculously flattered at the response this fic has received. I just wanted to tell a story about broken people and toxic relationship and ended up examining everything from bullying to gender dynamics whilst giggling at the odds this thing is going to end up as a harem - spoilers, it won't, but the speculation is fun to read. And with respect to the mod, I will say that I do my best to avoid male gaze-y things when I'm writing. Yes, there are sexual undertones with a lot of my writing, but that is something that just happened with the gender dynamics involved. These characters are dysfunctional and if some things make you uncomfortable... good, I meant to do that. I believe someone on this thread said it best - no one reads Worm for healthy relationships. Anyway, thank you folks again... it's been a wild ride and it's just going to keep getting nuttier...)
Last edited: Jun 24, 2018
372
Mujaki
Jun 22, 2018
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Threadmarks Prelude 2.0 - My December
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Mujaki
Mujaki
(smells like escalation)
Jun 24, 2018
#375
(A/N: I ended up moving a few of the puzzle pieces around after figuring out what I'm doing with the overall plot surrounding our broken characters. Thus, we begin with a Prelude before moving into Arc 2. Here we go...)
--
Annette
two months ago
When the cockroach in Taylor's backpack drowned, Annette realized something was amiss.
When her son abruptly blinked out of existence for just a moment, a whisper of breath, before returning to her sight like a raging flame among embers, she had already dismissed her class.
Something had gone terribly wrong.
She barely remembered the drive to Brockton General, all screeching tires and red lights blurring in her mind. A gnawing pit deep in her belly drove her to push past a security guard, a pair of sputtering nurses, and finally into the divided room where her son lay on a gurney, a flimsy blanket hastily tossed on top of him. His arms, what she could see of them, were heavily bandaged and his chest was bare, covered in diodes and sensors. His head, perhaps, was worst of all - almost completely wrapped in foam and gauze that by sight alone one could barely tell he was breathing.
A nurse was already in the room, methodically cutting his bandages off, "What are you doing?"
The older woman glanced at Annette, a look of what might be pity in her eyes, "Just what the doctor told me, ma'am. Are you his mother?"
"Yes, I am. What happened to my son?"
They were interrupted by an overweight security guard stumbling into the room, sweat on his brow and breathing heavy, "M-Miss? You can't be in here. N-not without PRT authorization."
Annette turned to face the man, a cold fury in her voice, "This is my son. Please, tell me I shouldn't be in here."
Her fingers were curling into fists and that itchy feeling in the back of her mind was alight at the potential, feeling every insect, rat, and spider within fifty yards. Only a decade of hard practice kept Annette Hebert from unleashing a horde at this utter fool who would keep her from her own blood, stripping his bones clean.
Twenty years ago, Lustrum was an almost mythical figure, spoken of in hushed tones as her pamphlets and tracts were printed and mailed to sororities across the East Coast.
People rarely spoke of her lieutenants, Flora and Fauna.
The few who did were no longer alive to tell the tale.
Annette closed her eyes and breathed, and the paralyzed vermin resumed their activity, "Why do I need PRT authorization to be with my son?"
A needless question - she already knew the answer.
She didn't need to see Taylor to feel his shine.
--
"Aunt Annie?"
Annette glanced up from the paperwork in her lap to see a familiar face, someone she had believed a lost cause, "Anne?"
The girl once as good as her own family stood in the doorway of the hospital room, clad in a set of purple scrubs, a look of apprehension clear as day on her face, "Can... can I come in?"
She smiled and set the small pile of forms aside, rising from her seat to take the younger woman in a warm embrace, "You're always welcome here."
--
Powers were a curse - Annette Hebert knew that better than anyone. She had been so eager when Esther had chosen her over any of the other girls in sophomore year, telling her that she had "real potential". In the following months, she saw the energetic graduate student assemble an inner circle of sorts. Esther had plans, a vision for a world turned on its head. A world where children wouldn't have to suffer under tyrannical fathers, where her fellow sisters wouldn't have to stay silent in the face of the horrible men who beat them, who abused them and then turned around and said it was their fault. Esther Powell knew how to get things done.
Perhaps most important of all, Esther Powell had superpowers.
The idea of capes existing was still new when Annette was in college. It hadn't even been a decade since The Golden Man had first appeared in the sky and even less since he had taken to appearing around the world, saving people. Esther was still an oddity, one of the few capes to have come from Brockton Bay. Back in the days when a cape originating from Brockton Bay was rare. Back then, if a cape took a shine to you, it was the greatest thing in the world. Knowing that someone special thought you were special. And Esther, a few short months before she decided to leave the name her deadbeat father had given her behind for a new one, had decided Annette should be special too.
Esther knew people. People willing to give powers for a price.
She had been so stupid back then.
The "Doctor" said the process would be easy. And it was, locked in a padded room with soothing lights, Annette took the thumb-sized vial and swallowed it all in a single gulp.
Something stabbed at her mind and she closed her eyes. When she opened them, the world was so clear. The Doctor didn't shine, but the woman in the black suit shined so brightly that it hurt to look at her for too long, brighter than even Esther at her strongest.
Behind the shine, Annette thought she saw a hint of a smile.
When Esther became Lustrum, Annette Rose became Fauna.
Things changed.
Horror. Violence. When they finally caught Lustrum, years later, Fauna thought it kind that she never said a word about who had been a follower.
It wasn't kindness. Her debt simply hadn't been paid yet.
Power for a price.
After Danny's accident, Annette came home to an envelope on the kitchen table, a stylized "c" embossed on the front. The card within had four words written by an elegant hand.
Your debt is paid.
Annette cried herself to sleep for months afterward.
Power was a curse.
And now her son had to bear it.
--
today
Annette sat up in her hotel room, a new sensation prickling in the back of her mind. Someone was in her home. Someone familiar...
Oh.
Oh no...
--
Up next... Sharp Edges 2.1
(A/N: This chapter is a short one, but it is a prelude of things to come. Another reason it's short? The first chapter of Arc 2 will be up in roughly five hours - I'm ridiculously flattered by the attention this fic is getting and I appreciate everyone giving me a bit of time to make sure my ducks are in a row before we march ahead. I love and loathe cliffhangers in equal measure, so there's no way I'm going to keep you folks in suspense for much longer. Thank you and see you soon...)
Last edited: Jun 24, 2018
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Mujaki
Jun 24, 2018
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Mujaki
Mujaki
(smells like escalation)
Jun 25, 2018
#416
(A/N: Here we go...)
-- Sharp Edges 2.1 --
Am... am I dreaming?
It's dark now, having switched off the bedroom light ages ago. It feels like ages, at least.
I'm dreaming.
My senses have started to wind down for the evening, my range dwindling to just outside of the house. I hear the creaks and cozy rumble of the wood shifting, the foundation settling into place. I see the stars outside despite the dim glow of the streetlight at the corner. I smell...
This is a dream Emma is not here in my arms not wearing my shirt shesmellsohsogoodWeMissEDYOuSOMUCH-
-I try to reel it in, but I can't. My senses feel... heightened being narrowed to such a small area, I smell lipglossrubbedoffonmyshirtmyshirtsalttearswhyisshecrying-
Emma's crying and I feel my arms tighten around her, the sheer relief of the motion like flexing a long dormant muscle. She grabs the front of my shirt and pulls closer, so close I feel softness warmth my necklace...
Gold conducts heat well, I suddenly remember the Metallurgy Professor holding court over the other kids at Camp, gold is soft, malleable, and it is a close second to silver when it comes to carrying heat.
My necklace... Emma's necklace is nestled between us, dual sources of heat.
It feels like a brand.
I hear Emma sniffle, feel her eyelids fluttering open against my collarbone and her warm breath tickling my neck...
This is a dream.
Emma would never miss me.
"Taylor?"
A dream.
"Ems?"
Arms reach around me and she squeezes, words spilling out of her faster than she can think to breathe, "Pleasedon'tleavemeohgodTaylorplease!"
She's breathing heavy and I roll over to face her, green eyes wide with panic as she meets mine, "I'm here, Ems. It's me, it's Taylor. I'm here."
I'm here we're here.
Dreaming.
"Okay, okay." A fresh tear rolls down one perfect cheek, "I'm... I'm not dreaming, am I?"
-mmMMMsaltysmoothwantsyouwantsher-
I'm not dreaming.
Emma is here.
"No, Ems," I sigh, feeling her heartbeat thud-thud-thud in unison with mine, "You're not."
Emma is here and in my bed.
"Good, good." She release her grip on me-whydon'tstop- and raises her hand to my face, "Good."
She looks nervous, biting her bottom lip, eyes half-lidded and my questions stick in my throat... why are you here? What's going on? Why the fuck are you in here and in my bed and-
Emma reaches up and kisses me.
--
fifteen months ago
"What do you mean you've never kissed anyone before?"
"It's... never come up?"
Madison gives me a look, another in a long list of looks she seems to have mastered. The 'cute' look, the 'I'm hungry' look...
At the moment, I'm getting the 'are you kidding me' look, "You are fourteen! And you-" She trails off for a moment, gesticulating wildly at my face, "-you! You look-ugh!"
I just shrug at that - Madison had a way of getting herself worked up over the smallest things. My life had just never allowed it, really. Oh, I'm sure Mom would have let me date if I wanted, but...
There was only one person I had ever really wanted to kiss before.
"Fine, that does it. We," Madison put a finger right on my nose, making me cross-eyed for just a moment, "are going to take care of this right now."
She gave me an impish grin, "Why don't you just kiss me?"
Wait, what? "Kiss... you?"
Madison rolled her shoulders back, an exaggerated pout on her face, "What? You don't want to kiss me?"
"No, I mean yes!" I nearly yelled out loud, glancing at my bedroom door just in case Mom happened to walk by - she was really good at wandering upstairs whenever Emma was-
Don'tthinkabouther
I took a breath and looked at Madison - she really was cute in a pixieish way, slender, with long brown hair pinned back by a sky-blue clip, freckles sprinkled across her cheeks and bare shoulders, and a button-nose.
I could kiss her. And I wouldn't regret it.
"I do, Mads."
She positively squealed with glee and sat up in my bed, shifting her legs just so to prop her up to my height, "Alright! Let's do this."
She leaned in, brown eyes shut tight and her lips out and puckered...
And I couldn't help it.
I giggled.
Madison's eyes opened, her lips still partially puckered even as she spoke, "What? Taaay, what is it?"
"Have you ever kissed anyone before?"
A positively lovely shade of crimson blossomed on her cheeks, "Maybe?"
I raised an eyebrow and she threw her arms up in the air, "Fine! Fine, Tay, I haven't actually kissed anyone before and I'm nervous and it's warm in here an-"
I leaned in and our lips touched, a feather light brush against the corner of her mouth and I hear a nearly silent "Oh!" as she leaned into me, a hand settling on my chest.
It was barely a kiss, chaste and quick.
It was perfect.
I broke away first, my breath suddenly a lot heavier than a moment ago. Madison stays there for just a second longer than me before her lips spread into a dopey smile, "Ah, yeah."
"Yeah." I couldn't help but grin as well, feeling a bit silly in the moment.
"Taylor! Madison! Supper's almost ready, go wash up!" Mads and I jump at my mother's voice as it carries up the stairs, then we share the same goofy smile before collapsing on the bed laughing.
"Tay?"
"Yeah, Mads?"
I feel her roll over and her face fills my vision, her hair tickling my nose as excitement fills her eyes, "We should practice!"
--
My arms wind around Emma, feeling her hands on either side of my face as I drink in the sounds, blood rushing through her veins, heart pounding, fingers sliding through my hair and feel...
I feel everything.
"Mmm." Emma whispers, lips against my neck, hot breath driving my senses up the wall, "Taylor, miss you."
"Ems," I struggle to rein everything in, pulling myself away from-mmMMWANTNEEDTHIS-her touch, "Why are you here?"
She looks up at me, her eyes focusing as if really seeing me for the first time tonight, "I'm... I'm here for you, Taylor."
I look at the posts at the foot of my bed, her dress draped haphazardly across the foot board. When I realized the hour, I had offered her an old shirt of mine to sleep in and the guest bedroom, more out of shell shock than anything else. Instead, she had deigned to change clothes in front of me and something about the sight and smell... I couldn't look away.
I didn't want to. Not anymore.
"You hate me."
Her eyes grow almost comically wide and I might have laughed if I hadn't felt her heart suddenly jump out of sync thud-thud-thud and I knew that she wasn't lying. She would never lie to me again.
"You hate me. You... you did all that-" I can barely get the words out, between my own rising anger at her panicking heartbeat and the tears ready to burst from my watering eyes, "-that bullshit, that bitch Sophia, you ruined Madison and why are you here, in MY HOUSE, like nothing ever changed!"
Emma scrambles into my arms, holding me as tight as she could manage through my staggered breathing and every ugly black thing in my chest wanting to reach out and tear her to pieces, "NO! Nonononono, Taylor, please! I don't hate you, I could never hate you."
"Then why?"
"Because you're stronger!"
My fury sputters, her words panicked and running together and I feel her heart, heat rising, doesn't want to leave...
...not lying.
"I'm... stronger," And I recall Sophia, her words somehow echoing in both of our minds, "I survived."
"Yes!" Emma leans back and meets my gaze, eyes shimmering with tears even as a too-wide smile threatening to twist into crippling sadness at the wrong word, the wrong tone of voice, "You're a survivor, Taylor. You've always been a survivor."
I'm... a survivor.
"And are you a survivor?"
That manic smile grows even further as she nods her head, "I am."
Oh.
Oh, Emma...
She tells me everything. The alley. The ABB. Sophia.
I feel Emma's heart calming to a companionable dumDUM-dumDUM-dumDUM and she grows sleepy-eyed and a bit silly, like a cat that's indulged on a bit too much cream.
"I'm so happy, Taylor, are you happy?"
I shift a bit and pull a bit of her hair away from her face, "Yeah, Ems. I'm happy."
"We survived!" Emma tries to reach up and touch my face again, but she's exhausted and only brushed the tip of my chin, "You survived! And now we're free..."
I won't kick Emma out. Not out of my house. Not out of my life.
I can't. Not now.
We're both survivors.
Fucking Sophia.
We are going to have words.
--
Up next... Sharp Edges 2.2
(A/N: This is a shorter chapter, yes, but I needed to set a certain mood. Not going to lie, this was the hardest chapter I've ever had to write, trying to balance the mood, the past, and the horror that is to come. Next chapter up tomorrow evening...)
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Mujaki
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