Birdcage Chapter 1: Ehhs, a 3x3 eyes fanfic

Apologies in advance that this isn't really a new chapter.

Here's a non-canon Omake I whipped up because of all the horrible writer's block I'm having. And because a lot of people were like, "go kill people! murder!" (at least I think they were? maybe that was Taylor's subconscious.) I came up with something that might have happened if Taylor went sorta-Carrie. Some divergences from canon-Crouching Tiger, but whatever.

Crouching Tiger Goes to Prison

"For the murders of-" I used vacuum bubbles around my ears to block out what the judge is about to say. It was obvious from the start what would happen. All that mattered now was the number.

My appointed lawyer was apologetic, but there wasn't much to tell him. It was an open-shut case.

'Girl goes psycho and turns out to be a cape. She kills four people and gets caught by heroes she looked up to as a child.'

It helps that the deceased were photogenic, while I wasn't. I say were because there wasn't too much left of them when I came to my senses.

I still might be in shock right now. Yup, that's me sitting in the courtroom and the manacles. Taylor Hebert, Crouching Tiger, murderer, villain.

Of course, the media calls me, "Terror." It was close to Taylor, and I guess it just stuck. Crouching Tiger would be the name of anyone other than a villain. But at least no one found my coded 'Plan' notebooks stashed under my floorboards. They wouldn't be of any use now.

Can't really bounce back from publicly murdering teenagers and go on to become a hero, can we, Taylor?

Do I feel guilty about it? Yeah. It didn't have to be like that, and I should have just controlled myself for another day, another week, another month, but I just couldn't.

It doesn't help that one of the deceased used to be my best friend.

Dad and Mom would be ashamed of me, if they weren't dead too. At least I didn't murder them.

My lawyer was competent enough to throw the right legal words at the judge to get me out of going to Max-Sec or the Birdcage. So it's three years in 'cape juvie'. Three years of sitting on my ass in prison.

I could have lied and said the whole thing was my trigger event, but it obviously wasn't.

Sophia looked awful when she testified against me, like she hadn't slept in a week. A niggling voice in my head said this whole thing was her fault, but she probably didn't even know what Emma and those-

I take a deep breath. I can't think about it now.

I used to dream that Emma would realize what she'd become and run back to me, and I'd forgive her.

My side of the story does get some press, and half of Winslow's staff gets fired for incompetence. Some people online are even calling it a perverted form of justice, according to my lawyer. Some of my supporters are Nazis, which isn't good at all.

Sophia had to be led into the courtroom under heavy escort for her testimony, due to fears of Empire retribution. Her family had already left town. I could tell a lot of Sophia's emotions were faked during the testimony, except the one where she said that Emma was like a sister to her.

Then the media got some beautiful pictures of the two of us crying in the courtroom when Sophia testified. A, photos. Fuck them.

I'm not happy that the media's reporting it took four murdered students to fix the situation. Of course, I'm still painted as the monster in most of the stories. The foster home parents I had been assigned to a week before my rampage didn't even bother to show up to the trial, not that I blame them. I don't even remember their names anymore.

The judge bangs his gavel, and we can leave. "Terror, it's ok. It's over now," my lawyer says as he leads me out of the courtroom. He hands me a card with a single phone number on it, telling me I still have options, but I crumple it up in my hands.

I couldn't bring myself to look at the Barnes' sitting in the back rows. Yeah, Emma turned into a monster and no one's defending her actions, but it took one bad day to turn me into a worse one. So who came out ahead there, huh? Some insane part of me wishes she'd come to her senses and become my best friend again.

I can't remember the look on Emma's face when she realized I was a cape, and I'm thankful for that.

The prison transport drove on through the rain. We were almost out of Brockton, judging by the increased chatter from the PRT troopers. It's not like I had a gang to break me out anyway. I was wearing manacles rated Brute 3, whatever that meant, and an orange domino mask to protect my identity. Not that it would help. PHO was screaming for blood on both sides, and my lawyer said some asshole named Void_Cowboy leaked both my name, and proof that Emma was a psycho only a day after my rampage.

The internet giveth, and the internet taketh, I guess.

"So, how'd the plea deal go?" The PRT trooper closest to me asked. She seemed like kind of a bitch, but what do you talk to a fifteen-year-old murderer about on the prison transport, ponies?

"I'd rather not talk, if you don't mind. Sorry." I mumbled. I didn't want to know their names, for all I knew, they had kids I could have killed.

She sighed. "Well kid, that's a shame. We're a lot friendlier than-"

The PRT troopers witty repost was cut off by a screaming noise and a boom that knocked everyone on their sides as the transport van rolled a few times.

We all groaned together as we got up from the jumble we were in. It was probably an attack. Hopefully not a lynch mob, but hopefully not someone like Lung or Kaiser trying to recruit me.

"Something's coming!" I shouted. A PRT trooper trained a containment foam nozzle at me while the three others barked into their radios for backup. Muffled sounds of fighting and explosions permeated the transport from outside.

"Shit, it's Empire. We need backup, Roger?" I heard someone shout. Empire Eighty-Eight, fifteen capes of various abilities.

One of the slats had been torn open, so I could feel the outside air. "Kaiser's outside, and I'm guessing Krieg is there with him. They're close." Not many people in Brockton Bay took it upon themselves to wear gas masks.

"Shit!" Shouted the trooper who had tried to chat me up earlier, "We won't have backup for a while, our best bet is to foam everything and hope for the best." More like hope for the least excruciating death. Not good.

I figured out a little while ago that my sexual orientation wouldn't endear me to the Empire, so for all I knew they were here to kill me. "Yeah, no it's not a good idea. If Kaiser knows I like girls from my journal, we're all dead."

Thanks again to Void, you fucking asshole. You just had to publish everything online.

"We're not allowed to let you out of the van or the manacles." I grit my teeth a little at that and grew three inches. Not their rules, I knew, but it was annoying.

"If I walk out of here, the Empire capes won't have to pry this thing open and kill you to extract me. You're probably great and all, but I don't think you stand a chance against those two."

"And if you run?" The largest trooper, the one furthest away from me, asked.

"I have a tracking bracelet I can't remove and everyone in the state hates me. Where the fuck will I go?" I snarl. Talkative trooper cringed a bit at that, and I grew another inch. Ok, that was a bit harsh. At least my lawyer didn't hate me, I don't think. I could remove the tracking bracelet, or jam it, but that would be pointless.

Hell, if I could save four PRT troopers from getting skewered by the Empire, that had to count for something, right? Even though they were here in the first place to transport me. Belated heroism.

After some frantic whispers amongst themselves and into the walkie-talkies, I was unceremoniously pointed to the outside of the van.

"They won't be lenient the next time if you run."

"Again, no plans to do so," I hissed back. Dragon-me was… irritated.

I climbed out and walked for a few dozen feet to see my would-be rescuers. I was drenched, which oddly enough was all I could think about. Fuck these guys, and fuck the rain.

"Greetings, Terror. We have a proposition for you." It was a silk-smooth, cultured voice that came from a man in an elaborate knight costume despite the rain. I could see Dauntless and Miss Militia fighting in the distance against five capes I couldn't recognize. I'd help them if I could, but Miss Militia's attitude towards me as I was being loaded into the transport made it clear she'd shoot me dead if she could.

"What do you want." I barked flatly. I was only fifty feet from the transport van.

"We heard of your struggles, child, and we would like to offer you a place in our organization. Under our training and tutelage, we could-" God, what a fucking windbag. I grew another inch as he kept talking. One of the Empire's stooges punched me in a Winslow hall once pre-trigger, hard, because Madison spread a rumor that I was a lesbian whore.

"I'm not interested." I interrupted Kaiser before this went on too long and Miss Militia and Dauntless were defeated. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw they were getting pushed back, away from the convoy. "I'm going to do my time, and see what happens after I get released. Probably won't even return to Brockton Bay." There was nothing left for me in Brockton except graves. Someone had even firebombed my parent's house in the middle of a protest, so that was gone too.

"That's a shame, I would prefer to not resort to force." Krieg waved his arms around and threw rebars at me. Several pinned me to the ground. It hurt, a lot.

It was a good thing I didn't tell anyone about my powers when I was arrested. I roared my challenge and grew, ripping the rebars off the ground. I had a narrow window to win before I'd get overwhelmed by the Empire capes.

I took a rebar each in my hands and created charged fields around them. That fool Kaiser only thought I was a Brute, so this would be easy. I zapped Krieg in the back of the neck to distract him at just the right moment. As soon as his head twitched to the side a bit-

Crack! Crack!

The rebars shot from my hands like from a railgun and hit both Kaiser and Krieg in the legs, blowing Kaiser's to smithereens, and severing Krieg's off at the knee. Krieg was some sort of telekinetic, so I had to put a lot more force into the rebar aimed at him to get it to go anywhere.

I had two more rebars pointed at Kaiser and Krieg's heads by the time they were finished panicking and looked back to me. "Go find Othala before you die of blood loss, and leave me be. Your Empire didn't give a shit about me before I got powers, and that has been noted. This is my only warning, Kaiser. I'm not going to join your group."

"Foolish girl!" Kaiser gritted out, "The Empire will destroy you for this impertinence."

Can't do more than I have to hurt me, so I doubt it. I twirled the rebars in my hands. "Leave, or I target everyone else in your group too. I don't give a shit about murder at this point, and frankly your guys are more acceptable targets than the last batch." That sounded a bit cold, but they were Nazis, and I had to scare them away.

Kaiser barked orders, presumably into a headpiece and soon the other capes pulled away. One of the Giantess Twins picked up Krieg and Kaiser, and booked it. Leaving Dauntless and Miss Militia confused, but relieved. Miss Militia shot me some sort of look as I turned around and shouted something I couldn't catch.

Go ahead, try and kill me after I save your asses. Why not.

I walked back to the transport, which had actually rolled onto its right side, somehow, hoping that Kaiser hadn't slaughtered everyone inside as a final 'fuck you'. He hadn't, which was good.

"Well, I chased them off. We can leave now, assuming the transport still works." I climbed into the transport van and walked all the way to where I had been sitting earlier.

"Y-your manacles!" The chatty trooper shouted when I got back in the van, pointing that stupid foam gun at me. I looked down at my hands. Oh yeah, I guess I did break them while I was fighting Kaiser. Hand and feet manacles broken and barely hanging off my limbs. Go me.

I just sighed and thudded my head against the steel wall of the transport van. "Whatever, if you want to wait and get me new ones, I'll stay here." Dragon-me was amused for some reason. The tall trooper shouted some codewords into his walkie-talkie, and then trained his foam gun on me, like it would do anything.

"We'll have to wait a few minutes until Armsmaster shows up with reinforcements and new restraints. He reports that your conduct in this operation has been noted." Yeah, well, notes don't mean anything, and they won't bring Emma and the others back.

"Fine," I said bitterly and turned to my left, "So, Chatty Trooper, you wanted to talk, and I guess we've broken the ice. I'll start off by saying you were right, you're much friendlier than the Empire. How is everything on your end?"

I'm not good at friendly conversation, I know.

Last edited: Aug 11, 2018

737

Somewhat Disinterested

Jan 7, 2017

Reader mode

Threadmarks

Threadmarks JailDragon2

Threadmarks

Somewhat Disinterested

Jan 7, 2017

More non-canon Omake times? Just for fun? Yes? See where this is going? mmmm

Glorious alternate-character development mmmmm…

Crouching Tiger Goes to Prison 2

The transport stopped a few hours later at Westecher Correctional Facility. A drab, cold building in muted whites, grays, and blacks, there were guard towers and a line of barbed wire fences were in the distance, hidden by a bit of fog to sell the image. It was still more welcoming than Winslow, though.

Established in 1989, Westecher was one of the few correctional facilities that mixed cape and normal populations, under the logic that capes and normals would be better off desegregated. I didn't know how to feel about that. The judge had been kind enough to order a brochure for Westecher be provided for my PRT jail cell. It had a surprisingly low number of breakouts, and some really pretty inmates. Unless they were just actors, and I got conned by advertising.

"Here, we'll wait in the lobby until your processed."

"Ok." Chatty Trooper was with me, along with Tall Trooper. They didn't grip their foam launcher guns as tightly as we sat in the waiting room. Chatty trooper flipped through a girly magazine. I think it was one for teen girls that Em-

Nope, can't think about that right now.

We sat in silence for twenty minutes until an intercom blared from above. "Cape Number Three-Seven-Five-One, code: Terror to the front desk, please." A voice droned into a loudspeaker.

That's me. I shuffled over with my brand new Brute-5 manacles, curtesy of Armsmaster. He seemed tense when around me, gritting his teeth the whole three minutes we were in the same van. Like he couldn't take me down a second time or something.

Whatever, I don't want to fight heroes again anyway. They make you feel guilty the longer you fight them.

"That's me, hi," I said. I couldn't sound cheerful now, even if I tried. Were you supposed to sound cheerful when entering prison? Kicking and screaming? I'd play up the part, but Tall and Chatty just looked scared and tired, and if I wasn't careful I'd kick holes in them, and… I wasn't feeling it remotely.

A middle-aged black woman looked up at me from behind bullet-proof glass, and jumped a little.

"It's fine, Miss Allen, Alpha one, two, delta oval gamma. We were hit by the Empire Eighty Eight en-route, and Terror here decided to confront the attackers instead of let the Empire get to her through us. It probably saved our lives." That was Tall Trooper, actually speaking in my favor. Huh, weird.

Oh yeah, my suit was covered in a bunch of my own blood, and still a bit damp from the rain. I must have smelled awful. I resisted the urge to sniff at my armpits.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear you had trouble coming here. And that was very nice of you, sweetie." Miss Allen had a nice smile, but I felt uncomfortable, even though she probably wasn't mocking me. "Let's see. Level nine danger rating, level one flight risk, age fifteen, female, from Brockton Bay, five-nine… hmm, any allergies or medical conditions we should know about?"

"No allergies. And I can regenerate from almost any injury, and any diseases." But my body still looks chewed up. At least the prison uniforms weren't skimpy or something weird to humiliate me. …Not that I've ever looked at media that would show skimpy prison uniforms.

The woman bit her lip and glanced down at her paper. "Well, that's actually good. It'll allow us to move some of the funds allotted towards your medical care around to something that'll be of more use to our residents. Now, Miss Terror, we're setting you up in a Brute-5 rated medium security room. Henderson will be down in a minute to escort you to it. Your first night might be a little rough, but we'll bring you up to speed in a bit. Hopefully we'll be able to help you complete your education during your stay at Westecher." I nod and come very close to crying.

Mom had wanted me to get into an Ivy League school when I was younger, and make something of myself.

I took a moment to try and collect myself in the changing room, until someone knocked on the door and shouted at me to hurry up. After changing out of a jail uniform and into my juvie uniform, which was also orange, I was led through a checkpoint and into the main Westecher compound. The new uniform had, "VILLAIN" written on the back in bold black letters, with "Terror," written underneath it. So I guess subtlety was out the door from the start.

As I stepped outside the changing room, a woman walked over, bent down, and clicked something onto my ankle bracelet. It beeped. Her name tags said, "Henderson."

A male guard standing at attention grinned at my confused look. "Don' worry 'bout that, kid, it's just a waterproof Tinkertech tracking devise, amongst other things. Taking it off or tampering with it leads to a world of pain though." I didn't know what to say to that. At least it wasn't tight.

The guard with the Henderson name tag accompanying me had an amusing swagger to her step, like she was pretending I wasn't some horrible un-killable hate-monster within arms reach. She was kind of fat, kind of boisterous, and kind of armed to the teeth, which was disconcerting. We passed by a weight room, classrooms, a library, a computer room, a courtyard, some sort of cafeteria, and some other weird rooms. Most of the kids in those rooms seemed a little bored, and there were guards in almost every room. One or two were chatting with the inmates. At least I think we were called inmates.

Did I mention that it was still better than Winslow? Even the computers were clearly newer and in better condition.

We finally stopped at a row of quasi-cells with thick steel doors and a few small horizontal slats. The guard had me walk inside and put my hands through a large slot so she could safely remove my manacles so I couldn't run with my hands free, or slap her or something.

I didn't mention that the little dance we were doing was pointless because I could kill her and everyone in a two-hundred foot radius, break down the door, and walk out of the facility on my own after shutting down the whole thing. That would probably upset her. And me if I thought about it too much.

"Well, here's your new living quarters, Terror. An' I hope ya can get along with your bunkmate. Dinner's in two hours, and we'll have some staff come over tomorrow morning to start your transition here. Most of the rooms you've passed are benefits for good behavior. Your bunkmate's a bit prickly so you shouldn't unmask unless you think it's safe, but you can just shout if there's a problem. The staff'll prob'aly hear you."

"Probably hear me?"

"Guaranteeing it seems a bit wrong. We're not all slavishly devoted to you bastards' wellbeing."

Ah, that sounds more like Winslow, but I pushed the thought aside. The brochure never mentioned having a bunkmate. Well, at least I'd get a new person to harass me without any hope of escape. I frowned a bit, but nodded.

I walk in to my new living quarters for the next three years. It's… small, a lot smaller than I'm comfortable with. Two bunks, two chairs, a desk for both chairs, a lamp, some shelf-space, and a tiny window. There's a poster of a kitten that says, "Hang in there!" next to the window. There's a door that presumably leads to the bathrooms. All in all, it's about the same size as my old room.

An asian girl with long hair and an orange jumpsuit was muttering to herself and making scratching noises on a piece of paper as she lounged on her bed. The jumpsuit was rumpled, and her hair was unkempt.

"And who the fuck'r you?" the girl snarled as soon as the door closed behind me.

"Terror, I've been assigned here for some time as your bunkmate."

The girl snorted in a very undignified manner. "At least it's not another normal. What kind of shit name is Terror? Are you a Master?"

My skin prickled a bit. "No, and I didn't pick my-"

"If you're giving me some dumb sob story about how you've been framed, I'm not interested. And we're not doing the typical girl-bonding shit." The girl said. I was reminded of Sophia for some reason.

"I don't really care for bonding anyway," I said, "how long are you in for?" Might as well figure out how long I'll have to deal with Miss Personality.

The girl finally put aside her paper and pencil and looked me over. She was masked, just like me, and she had blue eyes. So, possibly half asian. "Just a year, but I have some listed commitments after that. I'm only here because I made some threats I didn't have the chance to back up. What's your timetable?"

"I'm here for three years."

"Well now, that's quite a bit of time. What are you in here for, eh? Mouth off to the wrong cop, try to punch him and triggered in the process? You don't seem too comfortable in your villain uniform." And that was a smug little smirk if I've ever seen one.

Time to get it over with, Taylor. "Killed four people, got a plea deal." Let's see how she reacts to monster-Taylor.

The girl paused for a second before she grinned. "Ooh... What happened, bunch of little bitches get in your way?" The girl made strangling motions with her hands in the air and she sounded a lot more interested in me than before. Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for.

And it was something like that, yeah. "I don't want to talk about it right now, sorry." I sounded like one of those horror movie kids who spoke in creepy monotones. Still, I was standing there in the doorway like a moron, my box of personal belongings salvaged from my house fire and the week-long foster parents on the floor in front of me.

I had sort of forgotten that I was carrying them with me. There were some old clothes, a few dolls, a few half-ruined books, and some pictures of my family. Before they all died horribly.

For a brief instant, I didn't want to be there, in that room, with the box and the girl interrogating me.

If I really wanted to escape in a not-so-obvious manner, I could make like Shawshank and dig my way out. But I wasn't so sure my bunkmate would be into that plan. And I bet the spoons here were plastic anyway, because some dickhead cape had probably figured out how to weaponize metal spoons. I'd need a plan for any of that. And a new code, in case my old one was found before my house was torched. And I need some contingency plans, considering I was all alone here and-

Back to the present Taylor, you can't just zone out again. That's how it all started anyway.

But the monotone response didn't faze the girl and she looked me over. "You're not lying, huh. Didn't know you had that in you, beanpole. Those are some wicked manacles you were wearing. How come you're not in Max Security?"

I shrugged and rubbed at my somewhat sore hands. "Extenuating circumstances, and it's unlikely that I'll do it again," I managed to get out of my mouth. Goddamn did I never want to talk about this with another person. "Who are you anyway?" I asked.

"Bakuda, smartest fuckin' tinker you'll ever meet." The self-appointed tinker answered. She looked at me like she was expecting me to say something in response.

"I'm not a Tinker, and I'm not sure I'm familiar with the name, sorry." Bakuda rolled her eyes in response. Definitely messed that one up. But did I care? Really? Bakuda wasn't giving me a lot to work with.

"Then take a look at a fuckin' newspaper sometime, will ya?"

"Do we even get newspapers here? I was usually reading stuff about my own case when I was in jail. Sorry." Articles on my case had the 'train wreck' feel to them. Really awful, but you just can't look away, especially if you're in the front seat. She seemed interested about herself, so an apology felt necessary at the end.

Bakuda jerked a thumb over at my bed. "Yeah, our 'pleasant overlords' will tell you sooner or later. Well, there's your bunk. Just don't cry yourself to sleep too much and interrupt my tinkering, or mess with any of my stuff or hang yourself on my side of the room. Or try to kill me or something. You wouldn't like it." She laughed at that joke.

"I can say with confidence that I don't like killing people," I told her. She stopped laughing and after an awkward moment went back to her scribbling.

She seems pleasant though, I thought. I pushed my box by the empty shelf in the room, hopped onto my bed and laid down on it. It didn't feel right, but it was a lot more comfy than the jail bed I had been sleeping on.

Out of genuine curiosity, I asked as I closed my eyes for a short nap, "What's your Tinker specialty?"

"Bombs."

...Well that's just fucking lovely.

- - - -

A/N: I was thinking of several bunkmates for Taylor: Bakuda, huge-AU Black Kaze, Bitch, Aisha on a really bad AU-bent, and settled on Bakuda.

Also, Piggot and the judge didn't have Taylor sent to hatesink-fuckhole-the-juvie-center-of-evil! Because sometimes people don't try to eat the idiot ball after they've grabbed it. Sophia gets hatesink juvie instead.

Last edited: Jan 7, 2017

691

Somewhat Disinterested

Jan 7, 2017

Reader mode

Threadmarks

Threadmarks JailDragon 3

Threadmarks

Somewhat Disinterested

Jan 7, 2017

Hmm, people are getting a little worried that I won't pick CT back up, or that I won't continue the Omakes, or that I'm just giving people false hope...

Yeah, let's just keep going with this! Yeah! Nothing can go wrong!

Moar Omakes!

Crouching Tiger Goes to Prison 3

I ate dinner alone but for the two troopers standing guard, which was fine, and I simply went to bed without saying another word to Bakuda. It's not like I could talk shop about bombs with her.

At around seven am the next day, I shuffled into a small meeting room with The Warden, as he called himself, along with five other guards. Two of the guards sounded like assholes and pushed me a bit as we walked to the meeting room, but I wasn't too surprised. The manacles made me kind of clumsy, and it'd be an inconvenience for the facility if I broke this batch too. So it was going to be shuffle-Taylor for a while.

The Warden gave me an impression that he was a no-nonsense kind of guy. Sharp brown eyes, a buzz cut, and a gravely voice along with a double chin. He did sort of look like a badass in his uniform, though. This place was one of the better juvie centers in the US, as I understood it. I guessed that the PRT was paying for my stay at Westecher, which was nice of them, if a little odd.

The first month I'd get basic privileges. Courtyard exercise, classes with other inmates instead of alone, dessert after meals, stuff like that. Most things could be taken away if I became too much of a problem for the guards, which was reasonable. If I got too aggressive towards a guard or another inmate, I would be deemed unsafe and transported to a local Max Sec prison. I didn't ask about what would happen if I killed someone again, and the Warden was nice enough to not mention it.

I was informed family and friend visits could be held once a week, and I mentioned that I didn't have any family or friends. See, more cost savings for the facility, I bet they were thankful.

It was a pity I couldn't watch films during my stay here, or at least the films I wanted to watch. I was informed that the TV's were usually switched onto the news, or some trashy cape-focused talk-show, and coordinating a constant time block of television devoted to one movie would be almost impossible. But then again, this was prison. I'd probably read books instead.

The Warden informed I was expected to keep my grades up in the facility, and that I'd be taking online classes for whatever couldn't be handled by some in-house teaching staff. I told him that it should be possible as long as my assignments aren't sabotaged by other the students like at Winslow. He simply said he'd reviewed my files, whatever that meant.

We'd been sitting on far, opposite sides of the room. Not that I held it against him.

Then he launched into a long speech about how these facilities are both a punishment and an opportunity to learn from past mistakes and make up for them. I just nodded when appropriate.

Then I signed a bunch of papers and applications for a while. One of the troopers walked me through the whole process. Apparently you have some rights as a prisoner, and more as a cape. The papers were pre-screened by my lawyer, so that was good. I hoped he got a better client next time. There's not a lot of creative stuff you can do for a client who says at the first chance, "I did it, I'm guilty."

When The Warden asked if I had any questions, I asked him what I should do when my sentence is up and I leave Westecher.

He just said, "That's up to you kid, just don't repeat the mistakes that got you here."

Good talk. Real informative. I can't kill those four people twice.

I trudged into the Courtyard for the morning exercises, and went through a checkpoint-thing to have the manacles on my hands safely removed.

The Courtyard was currently holding boys and girls, surprisingly. A bunch of kids were playing basketball, sitting on bleachers, a whole group stood by an exercise rack, watching a rather bulked-out cape lift weights like it was nothing. A smattering of the other inmates had orange jumpsuits like I did, most were grey, and a small number were blue.

One of the kids playing basketball's back read "HERO", with "Amble" written underneath. Which explained the reason for the blue suits.

...I didn't know heroes went to juvie. Must've not eaten their vegetables or something.

A few people noticed that I had arrived, and were staring at me, and my orange jumpsuit. I put up a weak smile and looked for a friendly face. The most of guards ignored me at least, looking out from guard posts. They all had foam-guns that my escort to the facility had on.

"'Sup bitch!" I cringed a little at the voice. It was Bakuda walking over to greet me.

I gave her an even weaker smile.

Bakuda rubbed her hands together "Well Terror, I never got the chance to do this, so this'll be an experience. I'm going to give you a rundown of the groups here. Who to like, who to avoid, general politics. Obviously, you should like me first."

"Okay." That sounded nice of her.

"Yeah, read your file too, when I got some time on the 'Net earlier today. Didn't know you were a fuckin' badass. Protectorate had to send pretty much all their capes after you." She said that loudly for some reason, and more people stared. "I take it you met with Warden Dickless earlier today so he could give the speech about how everything is your fault and you need to bend over for the system and fuck you up the butt? Yeah, I take your silence as a yes."

I didn't know what to say, so I gave her a non-committal shrug. Most of the others had gone back to their exercising or socializing in the Courtyard, but I was still getting some stares. Some weren't very pleasant.

Still better than Winslow, I reminded myself.

"Well, now that we've established common ground, and gotten really fuckin' chummy, lemme show you around the courtyard." I let her throw an arm around my shoulder and walk me around.

"First thing is that you shouldn't piss of the guards. Depending on your status they can beat the shit outta you. At the very least, any guard gets to con-foam you whenever they feel like. That stuff takes ages to wash off. Huge time waste."

"Did they hit you?"

The fingers on Bakuda's free hand waggled a bit in front of her, "Yeah, but I got some really good insults on them beforehand. Totally worth it. Made Warden Dickless turn purple once he was so mad. Now it's just a term of endearment, so I gotta come up with a new nickname to piss him off. Any ideas?"

"Uh, no, sorry." We bumped into two large guys in grey Westecher suits who snarled, 'watch it.' I mumbled sorry back to them, but I don't think they heard it.

"Speaking of dickless, I totally wasted that one on the Warden before I met those two shitheaps. Whatever, The Warden's not that bad once you get to know him. The group of Asians to your left are part of a gang out of Albany. Pretty lame, but they're really only together because of the next group." Most of the Asians were in grey and ignored me, but one was in blue and gave me a critical once over. She was pretty and smelled nice, so I tried to wave to her. She went back to talking in some foreign language with her friends before she noticed I waved.

"Yeah, that's a hero with them. Her name's Flushit or something lame, which is weird because her power's pretty cool from what I've seen, and nothing to do with toilets. See, not many people know this, but her power acts like a trans-dim- Yeah, I see I'm losing you there, whatever. Take some online Parahuman 101 college courses and then come back and talk to me. Anyway, she's not here for long, and she's trying to keep the Asians here safe from the next group." Bakuda's eyes narrowed and she shouted something in what I guessed was Japanese at a guy and then wheeled me away to start walking towards another corner.

"What's she here for, and who's the next group?" I asked.

"No idea, and Nazis." I groaned. I just can't escape the bastards, can I? "Now, you'll want to avoid the kids sitting over there with short haircuts and the Neanderthal Look going for them, because chances are high they're Empire. Course, you probably know that coming from Brockton and being a dyke." she drawled as we walked past them, but hopefully out of their earshot.

" 'M not a dyke, I like guys too," I mumbled.

That got a dismissive hand wave from the girl. "Well, whatever. They hate anyone who isn't vanilla white and hateful like them. Too fuckin' stupid to even know Japan was a German ally in the war, not that I'd ever join them." Bakuda laughed at that, and one of the skinheads gave her a middle finger. Guess they could hear us. Shit.

Only one of the Nazis was a cape, and he gave me a dismissive sneer like I wasn't worth his time, which was fine by me. Then I remembered I told his boss and one of the boss's lieutenants to go fuck themselves, and then blew apart their legs.

Perhaps a simple 'no' would have sufficed, or a delay and a mailed rejection letter. I'd have to ask Bakuda who the cape was later.

"Now this group is mostly Black and Latino, with a smattering of white pansies. They're just together to keep the Empire kids from messing with them too much. The fags are over in a corner, but I'd avoid them just so you don't get targeted too. Strength in numbers usually works, but you hear stories about what happens to the fucks. Some of those kids are just here because their parents caught them screwing a teacher or something, I think." I didn't want to think about anyone having sex with the Winslow teachers, ever. I might have thrown up in my mouth a bit. Bakuda sniggered and leaned in to whisper, "I'm in a betting pool with some of the asians in that group that one of the fags are gonna trigger and slaughter the Empire kids sooner or later."

And we're going to change the subject right now. "What group do you belong to?" I asked. I hoped this wasn't just a recruitment attempt for some junior villain team, showing me the barest minimum of kindness so they could guilt me into joining them.

"None, I'm too fuckin' scary for the other groups, and you probably will be too. Not many people here have a body count. 'Cept the older Nazis here."

Charming. "Do you have a bodycount?" I asked a little forcefully.

Bakuda screwed up her mouth as if she had been thinking for a moment. "Nah, I got caught before anything could really happen, and I got lucky with my cape lawyer too. The Warden lets me show off my bombs on Saturdays in the field out back though, it's loads of fun. Shrinks' orders and all that. I'd go stir crazy otherwise. The troopers have a betting pool that they think I don't know about. I got one of them to go fifty/fifty with me that I wouldn't snap at all, so when I leave here, I'm gonna make something like two thousand bucks just for fucking with their heads."

I was about to make a sarcastic comment about her mental health before what she said actually registered in my head. I stopped dead in my tracks. "They let you build bombs!? Here!?"

The psycho's head bounced up and down enthusiastically as I accidentally dragged her back from our little stroll. "Oh yeah, welcome to Minimum Security, Terror. It's not like any of the dips hits here could understand how to use my tinker tech anyway. Dragon and a few Tinkers from Toybox have been begging the Warden for videotapes from the Saturday demonstrations, it's fuckin' hilarious. They can't get them because of legal issues and some papers I signed when I get here. You should have seen my Piñata-Candy-Napalm Joke Bomb last week."

"Who makes a bomb like that, and for what reason?"

That question got a shrug from the girl. "Birthday parties for young kids with burn fetishes? I dunno, I wasn't really bothering with end-use applications there. It started when I saw some video on Legends fire-laser things, but they're really generating Napalm. so I had to reconfigure some old lightbulbs to copy the flux-electromagnetic-fields, but that's trivial due to this law of Thermodynamics I found- whatever, you wouldn't understand. The fun part was I saw this video online where these guys dowsed a piñata in vodka and lit it up just for shits and Youtube views, and I thought, 'Well I can do better than that, I'm a fuckin' genius.' So a few hours later, and I've got the best party gift on Earth… for people you hate. When I get out of here, I'll upload my bomb videos online so I can show those guys up. They're amateurs I tell you."

She had a look in her eyes that made me uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Bakuda, this is way over my head. I'll just, uh, have to see your demonstrations next week if I'm allowed to." Or else, probably. Wouldn't want to be rude to a bunkmate who can make explosives out of a pencil.

The crazy bitch actually cackled, "Fuck yeah! That's what I'm talking about. You're gonna see some real shit in a few days. Hell, between you and me, we could start our own gang."

I felt my stomach drop at that. "I don't want to make or join a gang…" Gangs were the reason Dad couldn't get the ferry project working back in Brockton Bay. Every time a real construction project started up, the Merchants, ABB or Empire would find a way to ruin it and fight like dogs over the scraps. And the Wards and Protectorate didn't do much to help.

"Why not?" Bakuda leaned in. "Most Parahumans are in gangs anyway, just itching to fight each other. The Protectorate and the Elite definitely are gangs if you think about it. It was a research paper of mine back in Cornell."

Why's she in juvie if she went to Cornell? Is she actually that smart? I looked down. "It's not a story you'd find interesting, just stuff I know from before I got powers."

"Psshhh, spoilsport. I'll be the judge of that." We'd ended up right where I started out, right by the door. A whistle sounded and Bakuda nodded at a trooper. "Playground time's over, so it's class time. I'll see ya around at lunch or dinner if you haven't gone psycho again." I flinched a little at that, even though I was sure I could control myself.

"Ok, uh, thanks."

"No problem, roomie, see ya 'round."

When Bakuda walked off, the pretty asian hero walked up. I noticed she had this adorable blue streak of hair on her the left side of her head. "I'm not sure if this'll fall on deaf ears because you're wearing a villain suit, but that girl's psycho. You'd best be careful."

"Uh, thanks, I will be. She's my new roommate." I said. I might have blushed a bit too.

"Damn, don't ask her about the last one, then. Well, good luck, and try not to get into trouble. This place is nice, but the kid gloves can get pulled off pretty fast here." I knew it was too good to be true. I froze, thinking of the horrible stuff the guards could get away with doing to me just like in those prison movies, and how I'd have to make plans to prevent it all. "-know you're stewing on that, but I gotta leave for class. See ya around newbie."

"Yeah," I mumbled and trudged over to do that weird dance to get my manacles put back on my hands. I didn't catch her cape name. But she was so cool. I bet she wore leather jackets outside of this place, and rode motorcycles.

Still, two random people talked to me in a friendly manner today. Three if you count the Warden. That was a new record.

- - - -

A/N, I've never been to juvie or a prison, so I'm making this up as I go. And I haven't seen Shawshank or Orange is the New Black.

The reason Taylor's in an awesome Juvie is because Piggot decided that Sophia didn't need her Ward trust fund after a preliminary investigation during the trial, and figured the least she could do for Taylor was have Sophia pay for the hopeful recovery of a potential hero. Costa-Brown readily agreed and off Taylor went. No one in the protectorate knows the details, though.

647

Somewhat Disinterested

Jan 7, 2017

Reader mode

Threadmarks

Threadmarks JailDragon 4

Threadmarks

Somewhat Disinterested

Jan 7, 2017

moar silly ideas? say it ain't so. Your amusement is my elixir. Something like that.

Crouching Tiger Goes to Prison 4

"So your name's Terror. You don't look so scary."

It was only two days since I had showed up at Westecher, and there was the Empire cape. I still didn't know his name, but there he was standing in the hallway, blocking me from going to dinner. He had three buddies flanking him, each one a bit bigger than the previous. One or two of them had tattoos, and they all looked like aspiring life-sentence inmates.

Dragon-me was displeased. Bakuda said tonight's dessert was pudding.

"Listen, uh-"

"Shut it, dyke." The cape puffed his chest out. "The name's-

"I don't care. I just want to go to dinner, eat food, then get back here and sleep. I don't have time for this." In retrospect I probably shouldn't have interrupted him. The second I did that this little vein bulged in his forehead and negotiations went south.

Me before the incident would have been worried, scared of mystery cape's potential or what I could do to him by accident. Before my trigger, I would have been rightly terrified of being in the same room as these people. Now? I was just annoyed.

"We're gonna have your ass for dinner, bitch. You think you can handle all four of us?" That was the tallest and meanest looking of the bunch. He must have been at least six-four.

"More like three, Tell Limp-Dick I said hii~ii~ii!" I heard from Bakuda's part of the room not ten feet away. Lucky bitch. One of the cape's Empire goons grit his teeth and cracked his knuckles, whispering, "I'll kill that chink whore."

"That's not helping, Bakuda!" I shouted at her over my shoulder.

"Course it is, now show'm who's boss."

"Kill that bitch!" "Fuck'm up Terror!" "Come on and get it whore!" I just massaged my temples with my fingers as the shouting and insults kept going back and forth. I was almost positive Bakuda was enjoying herself at that moment.

"Silence!" The Empire cape shouted. "As I was about to say before I was interrupted, we got a message addressed to you from Kaiser. He's none too pleased that you turned down his offer and disrespected him. Hell, this might be off-script, but I'm of a mind to make an example of you for it, and it's in the spirit of the letter. Heard from online you're just a Brute-Changer combo, nothing special and more pathetically lez than Alexandria fucking Narwhal and a Dragon-real-doll."

"A Dragon-Real-Doll? What-"

"He's got one in his room because the other white girls won't touch him and he wants to feel loved," Bakuda hooted. There goes another vein in the Empire cape's forehead. Just look at it go.

I couldn't believe I was going to miss dessert for this childish nonsense. "Forget what my roommate just said… Did the message spell out what I actually did to Kaiser?" I doubted that a cape stronger than Kaiser was in Westecher, so I may have needed to wave around what little reputation I had.

My stomach rumbled, and pudding was only two hallways and a mess hall away.

Bakuda's head poked out from the open door to our quarters and interrupted my rant. "Now I'm interested. What'd you do, Ter-Ter? Drop mad logic bombs?"

After a second of internal screaming at being called 'Ter-Ter', I continued. "I took two pieces of rebar and hit Kaiser and Krieg in the legs with them so hard, the legs exploded and they had to run like little bitches to Mommy-Othala before I started aiming for their heads. Now, I don't see Othala around here, and I doubt you're the second coming of Alabaster, so I'd appreciate it if you let me get food, Wanna-Kaiser. There's pudding tonight."

Empire Cape looked up over his shoulder at Limp-Dick, who said, "Bitch is lying. Krieg can't get injured like that in melee, he's got a forcefield to slow down projectiles and hand-held weapons. She just got lucky ripping up those teenagers."

"You got me," I said in a monotone, "Kaiser didn't run like a little bitch, he hopped. Go ahead and try and beat me up, it seems I just can't talk you out of it."

Wanna-Kaiser did his best impression of a manly scream and ran at me. His three Stooges ran with him.

Then we all got foamed before Wanna-Kaiser was even within arms reach.

What fucking idiots. I'll never get my pudding now.

"So."

The Warden was stalking behind the five of us, somewhat cleaned off of the foam goop, at least from the shoulders up. We had been wheeled in on trolleys, so I guessed these petty fights happened more often than one would think. "When I went over the rules, I thought I made it clear that fighting was so off the table that I wouldn't even have to mention it. Much less trying to infiltrate the living quarters of the opposite sex."

"Guess we can claim innocence?" the shortest non-powered thug said in his most innocent-sounding voice. If this was just a repeat of Winslow where everyone else gets away with-

"That's ignorance, Craig. Ignorance. You four can claim innocence in solitary for a week. Frankly, I'm insulted that you even think I'm that stupid." The Warden growled. Two of the idiot skinheads gave the Warden glares, having to try and twist their necks in the foam to do so.

"And you," he marched in front of me and squinted. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I just wanted pudding, and they wouldn't let me leave. Said they had to deliver a message, then didn't bother with the contents of the message and tried to fight me." I had that lifeless monotone again.

"And you let them try and fight you because you wanted pudding?" That was the voice of a trooper standing behind me, sounding incredulous.

"There was also dinner I was missing, and I was hungry… I kinda didn't care after they wouldn't let me through the first time I asked. I put in some effort to make them go away, but it just… well…" Very eloquent, Taylor. Very eloquent. With a Shakespearian monotone worthy of any stage.

The Warden stalked over to his desk and started writing something on a legal pad. "Well, now I think I know what we're going to do with you after this incident."

"Ha ha! You have to go see Mr. Smins tomorrow."

Goddammit. I shoved some mashed potatoes into my mouth and chewed bitterly. I missed the regular dinner time because I had to wash off the rest of the foam. I didn't mind it except that I missed getting pudding because the kitchen was all out.

I pointed my spork at Bakuda in the most threatening manner I could point a spork. "Thanks for backing me up there, Bakuda. You sounded like a fight announcer when you were defending me to the troopers. Who's Smins, anyway?"

"Hey Terror, I was just elaborating on the fact that you were a badass. And it turned out alright anyway for you trash-talking four big Empire thugs with no fear. I wasn't seriously going to let you fight those Empire goons on your own without my epic kung fu skills. Have some faith in your roomie."

"You also have kung fu skills." I couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at that.

"I took kung fu when I was eight until about, oh, ten-ish. Then the Sensei kicked me out for kicking this annoying kid in the nuts. Fun times, and to this day I've spent countless hours practicing 'The Emasculator'." I made a 'yuck' face after thinking about it for a second. A bit of potato on a fork danced in front of my eyes. "Seriously though, Smins is a pretty good shrink. He's got this candy jar for when you get through a session without expressing your desire to brutally kill someone."

"...Does that happen often here?"

"Hey, I can only speak for me. I've been getting candy for the last month straight." Bakuda gulped down some of her water and winked.

"… Just how serious about this are you?"

The girl just rolled her eyes and leaned in, whispering, "Look, any shrink here is the only person in this whole place you can be real honest with. Talk about mommy issues, however many times you wet the bed a week, probably even unmask and talk about solutions for face zits too while you're at it. They're as safe to talk to as a Villain Lawyer. Not even fuckin' Alexandria on Meth would risk the legal shitstorm of reading through a shrink's notes illegally, and no villains care, except that weirdo Toybox Tinker, but she's really a rogue. Anyway, all that shit's confidential, and you're a bullshit-strong brute, so they're not going to be able to fuck you up or something like that one Fiasco with a Ward in LA. What happens in there, stays in there. They only get to squeal if you're a clear danger to yourself or others or you're planning on committing a crime." Bakuda leaned back away from me and threw up what I could only guess was a gang sign, "Basic shit."

"You two better not be planning on escaping or something," a nearby trooper shouted at us.

"Wasn't planning on it until you brought it up, jackass." Bakuda barked back. "I forget, is it A wing or B wing that keeps the windows unlocked at night with nearby stashed escape plans in a basket? If you're not sure, you can take a poll from the others." The trooper just shook his head and went back to his dinner. At least the other thirty-odd troopers gave us an empty chair on either side for some amount of privacy, but it was a bit weird sitting in the middle of a sea of black gear and adults pointedly doing their best to ignore us. I couldn't see Henderson in the crowd.

Yeah, we were attending one of the trooper dinners because we missed the regular one earlier. Bakuda came to these all the time as a joke, according to her. But I was starting to think she wasn't as 'feared' as she said she was. And I suddenly became curious about the last roommate she had.

"Ok… and you haven't gotten in trouble yet because?" I asked, a little taken aback.

"Hey, I'm a pretty fuckin' awesome and levelheaded person, thank you very much." Bakuda stabbed at her chopped carrots repeatedly, with surprising viciousness when they wouldn't get on the spork the first try.

667

Somewhat Disinterested

Jan 7, 2017

Reader mode

Threadmarks

Threadmarks JailDragon 5

Threadmarks

Somewhat Disinterested

Jan 7, 2017

I'm starting to think I have a problem. If I end up making another chapter after this, it's getting its own thread.

Anyway, another chapter!

Crouching Tiger Goes to Prison 5

Four days after the foam incident, I decided to try and reach out to people besides my roomie.

I could not just be a wallflower like at Winslow, and the stakes were probably higher at Westecher. I figured I'd start with a fellow loner like me. There was a really cute guy near one of the bleachers during the Courtyard hour, and I gave him a smile and scooted closer on the bleacher. Curly hair, a little bit of muscle, an expressive mouth, and beautiful green eyes, I could see myself becoming more than friends, even though friendship was first on the menu. He was also wearing a grey jumpsuit, so he probably couldn't melt my face off with a thought.

I was about to say something before he shushed me, actually putting his finger on my top lip. "Girl, I know what you're thinking just from the look in your eye, and the answer is no."

"Buh-"

"Nope. You may be a scary villain, but I'm saving this sweet ass for Legend when he eventually comes to his senses, realizes what he's missing, and divorces his mystery husband. Go bother one of the asian gays on the other side of the Courtyard, I'm planning me and Mr. Legend's vacation home in the Bahamas in my head."

And that was my first real attempt at making a cute friend in prison. A second of looking like an idiot in front of Future-Mr.-Legend, and I quietly excused myself to try and talk with the asian kids.

That Asian hero was ignoring me, so I tried to learn the names of the other Asian inmates. Needless to say I failed trying to properly pronounce all their names which I swore changed the second time around when I had to ask again. But I don't think they wanted to threaten me or anything, so it was an improvement. Hopefully.

A trooper approached me while I was eating breakfast in the mess hall six days after the foam incident. Bakuda and one of the braver people from the Asian gang were with me. The Empire kids probably had me on their top shitlist now, higher than a worldwide Jewish Cape Conspiracy, or Miss Militia for not being white. I had no idea what Bakuda and her friend were saying to each other, though, so I just mulled over the online school assignments that were due that week. School was much easier in prison, which was a pleasant surprise.

I got another surprise when a shadow loomed over me while I was trying to cut my pancakes with the world's bluntest plastic knives. "You have a visitor in the afternoon, if you want to see them." the trooper said. "Says she's a friend."

That made my head whip around so fast I nearly cracked my neck. "I'm not sure that's a good-"

The trooper put a hand up to stop my thought process right there. "Relax, it'll be monitored by a few troopers outside. If you get in trouble just say, 'manacles' and we'll foam the place. We're pretty sure she's not Empire."

"Pretty sure. And if she is?" I asked.

The trooper shrugged, "we'll be recording video, and you do have the right to defend yourself from an attack from a known parahuman gang within reason." Oh joy, my impending slaughter could have a laugh track and outtakes. I had asked Bakuda to look up the Empire when she got a chance on a computer right after the foam fiasco, and she was only too happy to oblige and take notes.

Those notes were better than my coded cape notes after only an hour's research. Gotta hand it to the girl, she was indeed a 'fuckin' genius.' Bakuda wanted her notes back after I was done reading them, anyway, because she said they gave her a bunch of Tinkering ideas. After I gently tossed her notes to her bunk, I meditated on my options, and who would be visiting me.

What the notes spelled out wasn't good. Purity, Hookwolf, Krieg, Night, Fog, and hell, even an invincible-empowered Victor could kill me if they got the drop on me. Then they could just blast their way out of the facility. I tried to think of various contingencies, but most required split-second decision-making I just didn't think I had. The best bet was to always vacuum-suffocate the assailant first when they entered the door, and then apologize to the Warden for low-balling my powers later.

I had to settle with the fact that I'd need to agree meet in the visiting room instead of blowing the 'friend' off.

What worried me the most was that Bakuda cackled and said, "Yes, Mahstah," when she went to the computer room. Like the Igor whose hump kept switching sides in that Aleph comedy about Frankenstein's monster. I had been very adamant from the moment I showed up that I didn't want to be in a gang, or a mad scientist, and I felt Bakuda's behavior was getting a little frustrating.

So a few hours later, after freaking out about my impending death, I sat down in a plastic chair wearing my Brute-5 manacles and staring at a green door that would eventually open. The trooper who escorted me to a visiting room was very apologetic that he had to secure my manacles to the table too so I couldn't get up and beat my 'friend' to death. I just sighed and wiggled my fingers inside the restraints, waiting.

Finally, the door opened. "Hey Taylor, long time no see."

She was an attractive blonde. Femme Fatale material, probably a little older than me, with a faint scar on her cheek matching sharp blue eyes, lovely clear skin, high cheekbones, and an amazing figure. She gave me a smug smile when my eyes finally met hers again after the trip around her body, and I might have blushed. This was either a setup, or the locker had destroyed my memory. I'm certain I would have remembered her from my past. "I'm sorry," I decided to say, "it must have been a while. I don't remember." If they were Empire, I'd milk them for whatever information they had before they forced me to fight them. I'd probably get thrown in solitary for this, but I had said earlier to the Warden that I didn't have friends or family, so I might be able to convince him that I didn't want a fight with a visitor.

"That's ok, Tay. Name's Sophie. That's my big bro Ben I kept telling you about." She pointed behind her at a nondescript man who was doing a good imitation at looking disinterested.

I couldn't help but twitch at the casual name drop of one of my tormentors. "And you wanted to see me so soon after I ripped a former friend to shreds... because?"

"Because we care about you!" The blonde exclaimed. Now my bullshit detectors were going nuts. "When you get out of this place my... employer would like to hire you. Not a lot of former villains can get legit jobs, especially in this economy."

A job interview for a former villain? Sounds entertaining. "Ok, what's the employer's name?"

The girl, Sophie, gave me a smug smile and a wink. "Can't tell, it's a secret. But you'll have the chance to make a lot of money if you start working for him."

So the employer was a definitely a villain. Possibly Kaiser, certainly not the Protectorate. The Protectorate would try and guilt me, like Armsmaster had when we spoke as I was in custody. Asshole. I'm glad my Armsmaster underwear got burned in the house fire.

Well, it's either talk to a new face, or deal with the old ones who were possibly out for my blood. "I'll bite, what does he want from a high school student with a public lynch mob waiting for her in three years?" Hyperbole, but hey, this is prison, and prison has drama. At least I think it does.

"He's a concerned citizen trying to make Brockton a better place." Were bullshit detectors going nuts in my head? Yeah.

"He and I my have different opinions, especially if he's like Kaiser or something. My dad tried saving Brockton for years. Even on a small scale it's hopeless. Every effort is cut to shit by the very companies I imagine your suggesting I join. Good luck. Unless he's starting a scared-straight anti-bullying campaign, I don't think I'm of much help."

"Ah, so you aren't just dumb muscle under all those scales, I was getting worried. My client, who is not the same Kaiser who clearly wants you beat into joining him or beat to death, wants your skills and experience to help me and my associates with our jobs. Nothing in front of cameras, so you don't have to fear a public backlash." I can't believe the Warden himself isn't kicking down the door and tackling 'Sophie' himself.

'Sophie' just shrugged. "Look, my employer knows people who can make a good case for you, secure an early release. You have a surprising amount of people rooting for you." Translation, they'll bust me out of prison and recruit me.

"And the details of that being what, exactly? I've worn out my welcome in Brockton, and you're stupid," I pointed a manacled finger at 'Sophie' to illustrate the point, "to suggest otherwise. You must have heard what happened between me and Kaiser, I'm a walking target." The girl's mouth twitched in possible irritation, but frankly I didn't care. It seems that if she were a cape, she'd be a Thinker. And me getting shot or beat up before my therapy appointment with Smins in the afternoon would be a hilarious intro.

'Hi, sorry about the teeth falling onto your lap. I got into a scuffle with a visitor, and some of them are mine. What was that you wanted to talk with me about, my mental health? Oh I'm just feeling peachy.'

It also irked me that some cape group decided I should be broken out when I could have left whenever I felt like it. I mean, in two days pudding was back on the menu, and a couple kids I talked to at lunch said it was great. In fact, it was so great they were shaking a bit when they told me.

I leaned in a little too and squinted at 'Sophie' a bit, which was awesome, because a lot of prison shows had the prisoner do that in dramatic moments. It looked really cool on screen. " I'd say your friends and employer twisted your arm to get you here in front of me, and the same to work with him in the first place. No name, no concrete plans, no benefits for me or buttons to push. My guess is that you're not in any better of a position than I am, as evidenced by your big bro being here for you as emotional support. You must be dumb to Think"-I let in a small pause- "I'm that naive." And I bet the guy was packing heat, or his friend in the car in the lot was packing too.

"You want the truth, 'Sophie'? I'll be out when I feel ready in three years, and I'll choose my life without handholding from people who think they know better than me."

Now there's the real face of the Thinker, screwed up and angry, and a little annoyed I caught onto her game. I leaned back and waited for whatever inane sputtering or posturing this villain would throw.

"Don't think I don't fight for Brockton every chance I get. You just lay down and take it like a bitch, you haven't changed." she hissed, "And despite all your delusions of self-control and mastering your own fate Taylor, you will never be free from others controlling you, hurting you whenever they feel like it while painting you as the villain for simply breathing. Emma, Madison, that Sicko Stalker, the school or the PRT? It won't end, and you'll never get peace from them. I'm offering real freedom that you can build for yourself, and meaningful connections with people who might like you for who you are. Not some pathetic attempt at penance for killing the girl you had a crush on."

Well... fuck. Information and conclusions and, well, a bunch of stuff I hadn't wanted to think about hit me hard.

While I sat there slack-jawed, 'Sophie' got up and stalked to the door while 'Big Bro' gave her a sidelong glance.

She gave me one final look as she opened the door to let the guy out so she could follow. "My employer's job offer still stands, though we'll be looking at other applicants too. I might decide to visit again, when you're less cranky for no damn reason."

I- That-

The door slammed, loudly, startling me.

...Guess I do have something to talk to the therapist about today.

- - - -

A/N: and you thought Terror and Lisa would get along!? ahahahahaha, naaahhhh… And what's this? A grand reveal sometime soon regarding the PRT, perhaps?

Taylor not realizing she scares people, and not realizing she's pushing their Flight or flight faster buttons hard? Oh yes… oh yeessss...

Also, I imagine a large number of people have a crush on Legend in Worm. Girls, guys in juvie who imagine Legend breaking in an smashing the Empire kids, only to whisk the dreamer in question off on a wild adventure? It must happen a lot.

644

Somewhat Disinterested

Jan 7, 2017

Reader mode

Threadmarks

Threadmarks JailDragon 6

Threadmarks

Somewhat Disinterested

Jan 7, 2017

Ok, yeah, so I'm making my own thread for this.

Also, I probably can't write a shrink scene to save my life. If there's any chapter of this thing that'll be redone a lot, it's this one.

If you want CT immediately updated… I'm really sorry. I'm still working on the next chapter.

Crouching Tiger Goes to Prison 6

The troopers waved me in and with my head a mess, I stepped into the room.

In a comfy-looking armchair sat a middle-aged man I assumed to be Dr. Smins. He was reading a book I couldn't see the title of, and taking notes on a yellow legal pad next to him. There was a glass wall between us with a bunch of air holes. I tapped on the glass lightly with part of my manacles.

"Doctor Smins, I'm guessing?" I fought to keep a tremor from my voice.

"Ah! Hello there, Terror. You're right on time." The man gave me a smile that reached his eyes as he closed the book. "You'll have to forgive the safety precautions, but, well, this is a juvenile detention center. And rules are rules. I'm obligated to remind you that trying to take me hostage and negotiate with the Warden won't work because I've already signed documents declaring my life forfeit in such a situation, etc. etc. I hope you understand. Before we proceed, I must ask: do you wish me to call you Terror, or by your given name, or something else?"

I was still in manacles, so I sat down heavily on my comfy chair opposite him. I thought for a little bit. When was the last time I was called Taylor?

"Taylor will do, it's public anyway." Bakuda told me I could trust this guy, and I walked in thinking I'd speak with this guy and actually get help. And to be honest, I wanted someone to take me seriously. I couldn't just chicken out.

"Very well, Taylor. You must forgive me for being blunt and moving quickly. The Warden had mentioned that you told him you wanted the most out of these sessions the fastest." I nodded. I didn't want to be coddled by someone who didn't know what was going on. "If you feel any pressure or discomfort, feel free to tell me and I'll slow things down."

"Yeah, that's fine. Does the hostage taking happen often?" I asked, sort of chickening out.

Dr. Smins smiled, "Not really, especially since we've been required to say that disclaimer at the beginning of every session. Also, in juvenile detention centers the fatality rates overall are much lower."

"Sounds like a good place to be, then." I lifted my manacles a bit.

"Indeed. So," Smins started as he clicked a pen and brought up a fresh sheet of paper. "What would you like to talk about?"

"… I get to choose the topic?" Mandatory shrink sessions sounded much more intimidating from what the Warden had told me. Like I'd be interrogated or shocked with tasers.

And it was still better than Winslow. I couldn't help but smile a bit.

"Yes. Though the Warden has mandated that you have sessions with me or another staff psychologist, I can't force you to talk about anything." Dr. Smins sighed and crossed his legs. He was wearing a lab coat over beige slacks and a black sweater, as if to intentionally look boring. "Numerous studies have deemed such a thing unethical and counterproductive."

"Hmm, well." Time to test out a theory, then. "...I had an interesting altercation today during visitation, if we can talk about that."

"Oh? With whom?"

"Referred to herself as one of the... girls who tormented me, if you-"

"I'm familiar with your case, if you may forgive me for looking through your publicly available records and journals."

I fought back the urge to clam up. It was all water under the bridge anyway. "...She said she was a friend, but I've never met her. I think she was a villain trying to recruit me for a gang."

That got a few scribbles. "What makes you say that?"

"I've never met her, and she came to offer a job when I got out. There was a guy with her who looked like some sort of bodyguard. And she refused to name the employer. Said a public villain like me leaving jail would have a hard time getting a job regardless."

"That does sound suspicious."

"Yeah, and… it didn't seem like too good of a deal anyway. She was implying that her friends could bust me out or talk me out or something with political influence. I told her no."

"And you didn't jump at the chance of freedom?"

I bit my lip and looked at my manacles. The Tinkertech anklet would be easy to overcharge with my powers and sabotage, and I could probably break the manacles too. "This is the most free I've felt in years, I'm not risking going back to a city that wants me dead for some unknown villain's delusions. Besides, outside of here, Kaiser would personally want me dead."

"Ah, we might want to cover that later, I'll take note. How did you react to her pushing you towards joining her team?"

That got an eye roll. "Mmm, called her out on her bullshit and threw her lies in her face. She's not as cosy with her boss as she implies, and I told her I would make my own choices. So she blew up at me. She, being a Thinker, revealed some nasty shit. Wait, am I allowed to say that?"

"You are allowed to use impolite language, but it'd be best if we didn't make it gratuitous. So this Sophie girl, why did you call her out? She must have been pleasant before then. And if she's a villain, I can't imagine her being honest with you while you're sitting in a supervised prison room."

Why did I call her out? "I'm… not sure? I just felt tired of being controlled, manipulated and lied to, and she was just another persona in line waiting to do it all to me. It didn't help that she'd named herself after one of my bullies." The same bully I was beginning to suspect was Shadow Stalker, unless my mysterious visitor had only meant to imply that Greg Veder was the stalker who leaked my journal. He was the only other person at Winslow who was willing to talk to me, not that I wanted him to anyway.

Next week I'd get access to the internet for recreational purposes, so I'd be able to look up all the interesting happenings in Brockton lately. Like who our fun little Thinker really was and what Kaiser was really up to.

Dr. Smins tapped at his chin, "Though you must think it ironic that you feel the least constrained in a prison, no?"

I sighed. Telling him that my restraints were useless wouldn't be a good idea. "It's more… honest, and fair, I guess? I ...did a horrible thing, and justice is being done. The rules here make sense and are easy to follow, the authorities have been fair so far, and I'm not being targeted for some reason I can't fathom. I'll just stay here like this for three years and I can handle it."

"Interesting." More scribbles on the pad. "Why do you believe that?"

"I didn't get placed in solitary a week ago for getting into a fight with Nazis, so it might be a good sign." I wanted to read his notes, but I didn't think I was allowed to.

"Ah, sorry, I should clarify. I meant the belief that you are targeted for no reason."

I snorted. "That feeling stopped when I was arrested. At Winslow, half the school did whatever they could to hurt me, the other half ignored me, and the teachers were useless... And, and what happened with Em-my best friend was so- so sudden. One week we were best friends, then I come... back and she's turned into a monster that torments me." And now you're crying in front of your shrink, Taylor. Great.

"-I- I can't -even talk about Dad. Not today-"

Dr. Smins politely pointed to a box containing tissues and waited. I spent a few minutes making the best of them. I must have looked like shit when I was done crying, and that wasn't even counting the scars my jumpsuit covered up.

"I guess I'd just feel better if I knew the whole picture, why it started. That can't be too much to ask?" Of course it is, Taylor. Emma's dead, and Sophia will never go near you again while you live.

There was a solid "Well Taylor, that does seem reasonable. Do you feel guilt over what happened?"

I felt dead inside, actually. Guilt was an understatement. "A lot."

"Do you think that you should feel guilty for what happened?"

That was a stupid question. "Yeah. It's pretty much all my fault." I said a little too loudly, a little to forcefully. "I lost control. They're dead, and me sitting in this building for three years won't bring them back. It's not fair, really, for them." My only request for my lawyer was that I didn't get the Birdcage.

"So, justice rings hollow for you, even when you let yourself be submitted to it?"

I scratched at my arms this time. Even through the fabric I could still feel the scars and deep pits that Emma and her pet monsters had inflicted on me in the locker. "Something like that," I allowed. This was getting away from fake 'Sophia' and what she said to me, but I was pretty sure this was going to be a multisession epic.

Dr. Smins flipped to a different page. "Do you think Emma, Madison, and Sophia should have felt guilty about what they did to you and the consequences?"

"Suicide by cape? My lawyer had told me that once before we went to trial, but they couldn't have known I was a cape- I," I stopped myself and thought for a moment. I had only wanted Emma to apologize and be my friend again, until the locker. The murders were only shortly after that. But still, would an apology have actually been enough? Did Sophia even feel guilty for what she did to me, now that her friend was dead? Or did she just blame me?

"I never considered that." I said quietly. "I think Sophia should have, although Em-" I choked back another sob and tried to cover it with a cough. I grabbed some more tissues without prompting.

My throat was dry after another few minutes, but I kept talking. "I just figured I did something, or they went crazy. I just wanted my best friend back, even after everything. Hell, have I gone crazy?" I looked at Dr. Smins.

"From a preliminary meeting such as this, I don't think we can pinpoint such things. And it certainly doesn't help to call our patients crazy."

I kneaded at my face with the manacles, they felt cool against my face. "Just please give it to me straight, doc. We haven't even gotten to the dark stuff they did yet. Tell me my biggest problem, just from what you've seen so far. I don't feel… right. Psychosis, sociopathy, multiple personalities, what is it?"

I heard the sounds of flipping pages as I closed my eyes and focused on the manacles pressing against my forehead. "Well… hmm, problems. It appears that you've been exhibiting signs of severe depression and paranoia, though the paranoia is mostly from what you've written in your journals and most likely exacerbated by becoming a parahuman. So I'd say the primary issue right now is your depression."

The paranoia wasn't entirely unfounded. I had figured that the Bitches would turn everyone against me and paint me as though I were a monster. I didn't think they'd be justified.

But depression? "I don't think I'm depressed. I don't feel sad or mopey." I said quickly.

Dr. Smins hummed and waved his hand. "Again, this is why we don't throw around diagnoses this fast. Depression doesn't necessarily mean that you feel sad. How do you feel, if you mind me asking?"

"I… I feel nothing, really. I haven't for months." And it was true, asides from brief flashes of anger or fear, or something else, I mostly felt nothing after Emma betrayed me.

The silence between us was deafening, and I didn't open my eyes for a long time.

Then there was a 'ding' sound from a clock beside Dr. Smins.

"Well! I must apologize Taylor, but our time is up. You have another meeting with me in three days, if you wish to keep going with these. The Warden says you have to be here, but you don't have to talk to me."

"Yeah, I don't mind, even though it's mandated by The Warden. I gotta ask, though," I said as I pulled myself from the chair. "My bunkmate said she gets candy for not wanting to brutally kill people-"

Dr. Smins laughed. "That's not really the full story of the candy rewards, and you're welcome to some candy as well. There's a bowl on the shelf behind you, feel free to grab a Twix bar."

I walked out chewing the bar with even more questions than answers, but a little better. I had a bomb demonstration to watch in a few hours.

Last edited: Jan 8, 2017

875

Somewhat Disinterested

Jan 7, 2017

Reader mode

Threadmarks

Darkarma

(Verified Theorycrafter)

Jan 7, 2017

Moving my own post!

Okay now that its all posted:

Hey! A new thread, and a new chapter!

Yey!

Reno Hiroyuki

Jan 7, 2017

im likeing this

sandmanwake

Jan 7, 2017

Somewhat Disinterested said:

"Referred to herself as one of the... girls who tormented me, if you-"

If Tt is doing stuff like this for shits and giggles to a girl she never met before, I wouldn't feel bad if a dragon sets her on fire at some point in this story.

Somewhat Disinterested said:

unless my mysterious visitor had only meant to imply that Greg Veder was the stalker who leaked my journal.

How'd he get her journal anyway?

Somewhat Disinterested said:

And it certainly doesn't help to call our patients crazy."

And calling them dehumanizing names such as "Terror" is perfectly alright.

Somewhat Disinterested said:

though the paranoia is mostly from what you've written in your journals

It's not paranoia if you're right.

Night_stalker

Slava Ukraini!

Super Awesome Happy Funtime

He/Him

Jan 7, 2017

#10

sandmanwake said:

How'd he get her journal anyway?

Jackass probably did a B job on her place.

Christ, I really hope someone had a chat with dear old Greg in this AU. The kind that leaves him in a hospital bed for a bit.

RogueInquisitor

Jan 7, 2017

#11

sandmanwake said:

And calling them dehumanizing names such as "Terror" is perfectly alright.

Cape etiquette. She's here as a cape, so default to her cape name. He did ask if she would prefer he use her civilian name, and when she indicated she'd prefer Taylor, he stuck to using the name she preferred.

Frosty Wolf

Jan 7, 2017

#12

Well, we were hoping these omakes would inspire you, I just didn't expect them to inspire a whole new thread. Still, I'm very satisfied with what we've gotten so far. A serious take on a possible outcome, while still retaining some of the humor from the original version.

Do you have any interludes planned for this, or will it be entirely from Taylors perspective?

sandmanwake

Jan 7, 2017

#13

RogueInquisitor said:

Yeah, but her trial was public. He reviewed her records, so should know she didn't choose that name. It's like someone purposely did everything they could to set capes apart as something different from normal humans as much as possible so that there's an "us" and "them" mentality.

acheld

Jan 7, 2017

#14

Somewhat Disinterested said:

"-I- I can't -even talk about Dad. Not today-"

We don't yet know what happened with Danny, right? There was something about him being in the car crash, but that wouldn't make sense with this statement, and I think that was an non-author omake...

Anyway, new thread watched!

Janus der Landstreicher

W. O. Ruin

Jan 7, 2017

#15

Hm, this is like that one "What-If?" Episode that became its own spin-off series. I like it.

Frosty Wolf

Jan 7, 2017

#16

Rudy said:

We don't yet know what happened with Danny, right? There was something about him being in the car crash, but that wouldn't make sense with this statement, and I think that was an non-author omake...

If I recall correctly, the author said that Danny died a week or so before Taylor freaked out at school in a non trio related incident. We don't have any real details yet, but we know he's gone.

Daguns

Jan 7, 2017

#17

You know when I said that it was a B story I didn't think that it would get its own thread.

tri2

Verified Carbosilicate Amorph In A Hunk Of Tin Can

Jan 7, 2017

#18

I wonder would she be given more jail time for killing off all the villain prisoners? win win for her, less jerks in there with her and she gets to spend more time in the best place she has ever been in.

BF110C4

Jan 7, 2017

#19

sandmanwake said:

To be fair she was tried as a juvie so no cameras or witnesses inside the courtroom, plus the name Terror also served to hide her own from the public at large. If Greg hadn't leaked her name, and with it her pictures, she could have done her time and start her life, even as a heroine, once out.

Also remember that she did kill some students in a rage, being called Terror by some of the least accepting PRT's paperpushers to put the odds against her might have been one of the factors that led to Piggot softballing the proccess as much as she could as an apology for the failure of properly keeping taps on SS.

Legotron123

We've got to have MUHNEE!

He/Him

Jan 7, 2017

#20

Is anyone else really curious as to what Taylor's going to do when she gets out? My guess is join the Proctectorate in some non-BB city. Maybe Detroit. That city is actually doing pretty well in this universe, since (due to some Leviathan and CUI related issues) outsourcing labor to other countries really isn't an option.

ChaoticSky

Corvid Muse

Jan 7, 2017

#21

This is great. *popcorn*

Mashadarof402

Jan 7, 2017

#22

Legotron123 said:

Go to Newfoundland

Dig up valuables.

Create hoard

Slay the dragonslayers and take their stuff.

Sit on hoard.

toy

Jan 7, 2017

#23

Can't stop thinking of that Scooby Doo movie with the bayou zombies every time I see her called 'Terror'.

BF110C4

Jan 7, 2017

#24

Mashadarof402 said:

Go to Newfoundland

Dig up valuables.

Create hoard

Slay the dragonslayers and take their stuff.

Sit on hoard.

2.1: Deeply apologize to (the original) Dragon for looting the grave of his assholish father.

4.1: Give Dragon her old suits as an apology for #2.

angrymonkey

Jan 7, 2017

#25

This story feels very incongruous with the source material. Not through any fault of the author, but because people in authority are almost never that sane and reasonable in Worm proper.

1 of 233

Last

Threadmarks

Staff Post

Reader mode

5,783 more messages…

Not open for further replies.

Worm

Style chooser

Terms and rules

Help

RSS