Neir Miss 3

* Earth Bet *

The house seemed awfully silent without Taylor there, or at least that was what Danny Hebert thought.

Or maybe not. Getting ready to go to work without her bustling about getting ready for school seemed awfully odd and lonely.

At least he could turn his mind to work and not simply sit around and wait.

* Elsewhere *

"I am... the Silver Shroud!"

"Well, you certainly look the part," said Nick, adjusting his hat. "Can you do short distances or just world to world?"

"Short distances and I'm still figuring out things I can do with my power," said Taylor. "Like I could grab you and pop back to Sanctuary."

"We're in Goodneighbor. That's not a short distance," said Nick.

"I've almost got another trick down," said Taylor. "Tinker Tom did that Stealth Boy thing with this costume, but every time I tried it out it was like my power was... interested. Like it was trying to figure out how to do that itself."

"That'll be handy," admitted Nick. "Huh. How many can you take on those short distance jumps?"

Taylor thought about it. "Uhm. Everyone in contact with me. I think. Not more than five or six at a time."

"Next question. How fast?" asked Nick.

"You sound like you've got a plan," said Taylor as she popped from one area to another.

"So, instant movement but it takes five seconds or so for you to activate it," said Nick Valentine. "Yeah. Let me ask around, cause I think this is gonna make some plans really easy."

* Earth Bet *

"DADDDD! FUCK YOU GUYS! SOPHIA, I DID IT ALL FOR YOU! HELP MEEEEEE!"

One of the track guys watching Emma Barnes get dragged out of the school and put into a car made a thoughtful noise and then leaned just slightly over to where Sophia Hess was standing. "That girl is crazier than a Merchant. Full blown yandere."

"We're not friends, and she's not crazy," said Sophia, watching as Emma did an elbow strike on a policeman's head as he tried to cuff her.

It didn't end well for Emma.

"You sure about that?" asked the track guy, whose name Sophia couldn't actually recall because he wasn't any competition. Some marathon runner who also did the relay races. Lame events in Sophia's opinion.

"SOPHIAAAAAA! PIGS! YOU LET GO OF MEEEE!"

"Not as sure as I was yesterday," admitted Sophia, though she was careful not to raise her voice any. Armsmaster and the group were already poised to make her life hell, and only that she'd backed the hell off of Hebert had gotten her any break there. Deny everything - that was her working plan right now.

"Maybe she got into some of that Merchant stuff?" asked another member of the track team. "I knew she was obsessed with scrawny but that seems kind of excessive."

Sophia half-turned. The squat little guy was 5th place usually but in the same categories she was. "What Merchant stuff?"

"Tinker drugs from some guy in Newark," said 5th Place. "Wasn't that what you were going to plant in her locker?"

Sophia blinked and actually brought the guy's name up as he now had her full attention. "Bill. Pretend I don't know anything about planting drugs in someone's locker. Because I don't. What drugs?"

"Don't know. Just heard Emma talking to one of the guys that has Merchant ties, you know - Greasy Ken?"

Sophia dismissed Bill from consideration. Sounded like she had someone to throw at the authorities to keep them off her own back.

* Goodneighbor *

If there was one person who could be said to be the most pleased about the outcome, to have absolutely no qualms about how it had all turned out, to thoroughly enjoy the final fate of the Institute - it was Hancock.

The ghoul was still cackling every so often.

Nate went into the Institute to tell them that he was going back to the Minutemen and why. That just the way that they'd handled the whole kill-and-replace on several settlements was unacceptable. Then Nate had come back with photographs and Taylor had become a taxi service.

By the time anyone in authority had known what was going on, that "A2" gal had proven she was on a level with the Institute Coursers. No, she was better.

Railroad Heavies and Minutemen and what technically-oriented people (even some pre-War ghouls he knew) had gone into the Institute and everyone who surrendered or was subdued had come out.

They were dismantling the boogeyman of the Commonwealth and stealing everything that wasn't nailed down. To Hancock this was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

There had been a couple of attempts by the Institute to blow their own headquarters up, but apparently a couple of those yoo-ha people had been able to stop that. And were talking about improvements they could make to the systems down there.

Oh, there were some people still loyal to the Institute and claiming they'd have their revenge. It'd be easier to kill 'em but they might come around eventually and if they didn't a bullet in their head would end that revenge talk.

And even better from Hancock's point-of-view was that Taylor Hebert was still wearing that Silver Shroud outfit and throwing out some of the dialogue. Never mind that the Shroud in those old radio serials was an adult guy - Taylor was doing a better job imitating the Shroud than Nate had ever done.

No silver machine gun though. Institute heavy laser rifle was a better choice anyway, easier to get ammo for that.

Nate had never really embraced the ham the way Taylor could. Hancock began cackling again as he considered what kind of weapon he should send the kid. She ought to have something really special to go with the outfit.

* Sanctuary *

"Tomorrow I'll try again," said Taylor, frowning at the Fancy Lads Snack Cakes in front of her. Two hundred years old and stale as hell, but still edible. But tasting stale as hell. That part couldn't be emphasized enough in her estimation.

Of all the things she missed in this particular world, food rated right up there with clean beds and the whole "purified water is too precious and hard to make to use for laundry or bathing" bit. Seriously, add deodorant to that list.

"That's when you'll teleport to your home?" asked Chet, the android giving that smile that threatened to make Taylor's knees buckle.

When had ANYONE been that trusting and believing in her? Not since her mother died at least.

It was nice.

"I'll pass word around," said Shiela, putting down the gadgetry she'd gotten from the Institute and leaving the room.

Taylor nodded.

"Do we know why you ended up here instead of at your home, Mistre... Taylor?" asked Chet.

"I think it was because my overwhelming thought at the time was, well, I was kind of panicking," answered Taylor. It was something she'd pondered quite a bit after all. "I just wanted to get away."

"Ah," said Chet, nodding. "You have to focus on your destination then. That makes sense."

"I think so," said Taylor. At least that had been the conclusion she'd come to. In both cases she'd used her power to cross worlds, it had been trying to get away from something. She hadn't been trying to GET to somewhere, just AWAY.

Chet merely nodded. The Mistress either knew what she was doing, or she didn't. Whichever the case, he would accompany her.

* Next Day *

"Backpack, check. Laser pistol, check. Costume packed away, check. Spare fusion cells, check. Distilled water, check. Spare ammo, check."

The various androids were, of course, all standing around her in a protective circle. Outside that circle were those people who were there to observe and weren't off doing something else. Like Preston Garvey who had been told in no uncertain terms to go help that settlement with a couple of other Minutemen himself instead of having the General do everything.

Piper was there, of course, ready to write up the details in the broadsheet that she called a newspaper. Curie was there to operate some device Tinker Tom had come up with, because the Railroad inventor was afraid of Brotherhood snipers. There was one Scribe from the Brotherhood of Steel because that had been the total number of Brotherhood people that everyone else felt comfortable with.

Nick was keeping an eye on the Scribe because why not?

"Compass, check. Geiger counter... I sure hope I don't have to use that. Check. I think I've got everything," finished Taylor.

"Everyone going, link up," said A2.

Piper continued to write it up, watching and then wincing as the group shifted and then went in a direction that made her head hurt.

"They shrank and expanded at the same time," complained Nick.

"That hurt just to watch," agreed Piper. "Think they'll be back?"

"Not anytime soon, I'd reckon," said Nick after a few seconds thought. "Just as well, I suppose. Our world's got troubles enough on our own without the kind of things other universes could bring to our doorstep."

* Earth Bet *

(crackle)

Principal Blackwell's large SUV drove through the odd electrical crackle without any apparent consequence.

Other than her extra large cup of caramel latte espresso with chocolate sprinkles suddenly turning to a block of pricey ice, the radio abruptly changing stations to play the song "Big Iron" before she could turn it off, and her steering wheel abruptly smelling of oregano. Which was sufficiently startling that she hit the curb, and skittered a bit to the left as she overcompensated.

(crackle crackle FOOM!)

Behind her car there were briefly several people, followed by a truck hitting its horn and squealing tires.

Also a panicked "Yeep!" and another crackle-foom sound.

The panel truck went through the lingering paradimensional effect and had a brief moment of sapience and identity crisis before that faded.

* Eorzea, Hyperion facet, Thanalan region, suburbs of Goblet, 4th Ward, Plot # 22 *

Bored bored bored bored bored.

Born S'kurah Skaam of the Zu tribe, she'd always had this dream of setting up a tavern. She'd met and mated with a few potential choices for partnerships, but had ended up settling down with four of them. Because she was a mi'qote and she had things she enjoyed besides her passion for the culinary arts.

They'd been mostly happy, mostly coming together for the fun of it and because she was a good listener. She'd even married, though she'd had to drag the knuckleheaded male into the arrangement. After all, as a married woman she was seen as less likely to go running off and abandon things. Important when obtaining the initial bank arrangement that ended up with her tavern.

Going by the other races' approximation, she'd come to the name of Sakura. Which kind of fit because her hair was almost the same shade as those sakura tree petals that fell at some of those festivals.

Then another of those big event-things had happened and they'd ended up all scattered across different facets of the same worlds and only occasionally interacting. Mainly the husband. Stupid husband vanishing out of their bed as soon as he fell asleep. Damn it, she wanted her cuddles!

But back to being bored.

Because here she was, sitting in her tavern, ready to fix up a number of dishes and drinks for a reasonable price and talk the various rumors and news going on around here. Like those big city taverns she'd never have been able to afford.

Except nobody came by.

Nobody at all.

Wait! There was someone! Walking by, checking her placard! Sakura was ready! Her first customer! It only took a month and a half for someone to actually visit! Yes! No. They just summoned their chocobo and went riding off.

Back to bored.

Bored bored bored bored.

Honestly, if she hadn't saved up gil from her career as a White Mage and Ninja - she wouldn't have been able to keep the tavern open this long!

If only something would happen.

(crackle)

Sakura blinked green eyes and stared. What had THAT been?

(crackle crackle crackle FOOM!)

Sakura straightened out her apron and her chef's hat. She'd faced face-eating monsters and undead. Customers were an entirely easier thing to deal with.

* Taylor *

"Where'd A2 go? Where'd Alvin go?" asked Taylor. "Where the hell are we now?"

Chet looked around and decided as nobody else was going to answer, he might as well. "In that order. Those two let go to deal with the oncoming traffic when you panicked and jumped again. As to where... outside some kind of establishment with a crazy cat lady approaching."

"Hi! I'm S'kurah! You can call me Sakura! Welcome! Shalom! Greetings! Hi! yI'el! Do you eat? Drink? Talk? Need a place to have a sit down? Or a lie down? Or to get down? A private room? A public room? A room to vroom? Coffee and shroom? We have Karaoke Night! Stage an attack on the Blight! Plan the details at my retail! I've got quite the menu at my venue! Hello! How'd ya do? What's up? What's cracking? We've got chairs alone or in pairs! Just come on in! It's open, you're thin! Put on the feedsack! Settle down, get on track!"

"Uhm, we were just leaving..." Taylor began.

(whimper, sniffle)

Taylor blinked and looked at Sheila and Chet. "I had no idea that a catgirl could do 'puppy dog eyes' so well."

"I am uncertain as to what I should do, Mis... Taylor," admitted Chet.

Deciding to ignore the pink-haired catgirl who was looking like she might cry at any given moment, Taylor decided on a course of action. Taking one step so that she was no longer on this person's front lawn.

"...but I have tea?" tried the catgirl.