Tools and Dolls

Hillside Mall was not a place Taylor would usually find herself. The brand stores tended to be a bit too much for her budget, not that she could fill any of them out anyway. They were more geared for girls who didn't look like a hunched back frog.

Not that she was actually there to actually go shopping. She was there for a much more practical reason. She was there on a mission. She sas there because a rare opportunity had presented itself and she had to jump on it.

Her backpack felt all the heavier as she shuffled along with the crowd, weaving through the bodies until she reached the rough center of the mall. And there it was, her target.

A raffle for a children's hospital.

The line wasn't all that long when she arrived, unsurprising and more than a little sad. It suited Taylor just fine but still, it was depressing. So much so that she dug into her backpack for a few spare dollars to donate even if she was there for a different prize.

The charity staff gave her a bright smile all the same.

"Thank you for your donation!" They sounded so chipper and genuine that a ping of guilt twisted deep in her gut. Taylor managed a shaky smile as she moved into line. While the guy in front of her was gushing she rifled through her bag and pulled out a small faux leather book.

Eventually it was her turn.

She took a breath, then another, hesitating before the big moment. And taking far too long to reach the calm she needed.

"Everything okay over there?" One of the event's special guests asked, waving a hand and giving a concerned smile.

"Y-yeah, sorry, just trying to find a blank page." She stuttered out, flipping passed various signatures until she came to a blank page.

The blonde woman gave her another picture-perfect smile, reaching out a hand to take the book. Taylor pulled back.

"Um, sorry, I already have you."

"Excuse me?" The woman asked, blonde eyebrows knitting into polite confusion.

Quick to explain, Taylor flipped several pages back, to the near beginning of her little book, and stopped upon the stylized loops reading "Lady Photon".

Her photoshoot worthy smile returned as she read her own name. "So you do. I'm going to guess you need someone else's signature here?"

"I only need one more signature and then I'll have every official hero in the Bay!" She said, unable to keep the very real excitement out of her voice. This had been months in the making, the last piece in a puzzle she desperately wanted to complete. Needed to complete.

There was no way she wouldn't be excited!

In fact, she might have over prepared for this moment. But that was future Taylor's problem, the Taylor of the here and now just wanted the last piece for her collection.

"Well, I can guess who you need." Lady Photon said, her smile turning teasing as she bumped a blue haired boy's shoulder. The boy blinked up at her, staggered out of his daydreams. "This one hasn't been to any events in months."

The boy blushed, mumbling something even as he took Taylor's book. Taylor didn't pay much mind to what he said, her eyes and attention were laser focused on his hands. Waiting for him to make that final loop of his blue inked signature.

Shielded.

"Here you go." He said without fanfare, completely oblivious to the gravity of the moment. He'd understand it one day.

They all would.

Until then she'd be the one to give the moment the reverence it deserved.

Smiling, she took her autograph book back. Slotting it under one arm and offering the young hero her hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He said, sounding more dismissive than anything else. But that wasn't important. What was important, the only thing that mattered, was that he took her hand.

Something slotted in the back of her mind. A familiar and electric weight, the latest in a series she built over the months.

The true final piece.

Her smile became all the wider as she clasped both her hands around his. "No, seriously, thank you." She repeated, giving his hand a firm squeeze. "This means the world to me."

"Uhh." The boy looked towards his mother who gave him a subtle shrug. "You're welcome?"

With a final squeeze She let go and all but ran to the exit. Distantly she could hear Lady Photon reassuring her confused son.

"Don't worry about it too much, Eric. Some people are just like that. Collectors." Taylor could practically hear the eye roll, not that it mattered.

A squeal nearly escaped her lips as she exited the mall. She managed to keep it together, if only barely.

Would it be tonight? Could she wait that long?

She gripped at the straps of her bag, thinking of how she had everything she needed right there. Well, not everything but enough for a… trial run. Not a proper debut, not yet, but soon.

In fact, if she ducked into an alley right quick she could get started then and there.

No, no. It would be better to get a few more blocks away. Put a bit more distance between her and the mall, make it less likely for anyone to connect the dots.

That and she was sure that no serious crimes happened in that ritzy part of town. Better to hop a bus and get closer To the Docks, there was always something going on there.

She was about a block away from the mall, making her way toward the downtown heading buses, when it happened. A white van pulled up alongside her, feigning as if it were slowing for a turn before the door burst open. Gloved hands reached for her, grabbing at her arms and covering her mouth even as the van sped away.

"Go go go! We got her! Go!"

"Get that backpack away from her!"

"Put that butch down already!"

Their voices blended in her ear, an unintelligible mess she didn't bother to try and decipher. She kicked put against them, tried to scream even as a soaked cloth was shoved over her face.

"God damn it, why isn't this shit working?"

"She's a fighter alright, Cricket might actually be happy with this one."

Behind the men Taylor could see her bag jostle and float. She clawed at the men, drawing bright red lines as she reached for her only hope.

But the world gradually and surely fade to black. Awareness fleeing as they forced her arms behind her back.

When she came to she found herself propped up and tied in a chair, thankfully still clothed. In fact the only thing she was missing was he backpack and she could see that from where she sat.

The thugs were going through it, haphazardly laying things across tge table with barely a care. Het autograph book, a curling iron, and several dolls of various materials. Nothing too damning, most everything that was she had cleverly hidden. They wouldn't find it.

That didn't mean she wasn't worried , the opposite in fact. If it wasn't for one thing she would have been terrified.

"What is all this crap?" One muttered just above a whisper. "She's a bit old for toys ain't shr?"

"Hell if I know, kids nowadays are weird." The other said, carefully examine each item as one would a bomb.

Neither wore a mask so Taylor got a good look at both, which should have fueled her fear. A criminal unafraid to show his fave was one who could and would do anything. Her dad warned her about this, though he usually spoke of it in terms of junkie not kidnappers.

And these kidnappers look far from your typical street junkie. If they had ever seen a needle not pumped full of steroids she'd be surprised. Neither had a neck to speak of and their bald tattooed heads gleamed in what little light the dingy room provided.

At least she wasn't taken by the ABB and taken to one of their rumored Farms. Though, getting picked up by Nazis wasn't much better.

What could they want? Her dad had been talking about how the E88 had been making a push into the Docks ever since Armsmaster cleaned up Dauntless's mess with Lung. Without the big bad dragon backing them the ABB had lost a lot of its influence and the Supremacist started feeling cocky.

So, maybe they were after her because of her dad? Maybe they wanted to force him to hire a few "Good old boys" in exchange for his daughter's safety. That made sense, it definitely made more sense then them trying to use her for ransom money. Being the Head of Hiring for the DWA paid well but not that well.

There was only one other reason what they would have snatched her off the streets and it couldn't be that, there was just no way. She had been so careful, prepping step by step until everything was perfect. She gathered her materials from different locations, she tested equipment only at her home in the dead of night, she researched the local gangs and crime statistics at the school library.

There should have been nothing to trave back to her. Nothing. Her debut was to go off without a hitch.

And yet…

"None of this looks like Tinker crap to me." The first goon said, examining her haircurler at all angles.

"Well, ya can't expect her to have the stuff on her at all time, can you?" The other said. "Would be suspicious, right? Plus, ain't that shit expensive as hell? I wouldn't want to lose it just because some nigglet has sticky fingers."

"Huh, good point. Still, you'd think she'd carry something. For protection."

"She's still new, probably doesn't know better yet."

They spoke idly as her heart fell deep into her gut.

They knew. They knew!

All her careful planning, all her hopes, all for nothing.

Something escaped her throat. Like bile it rose, something between a whimper and the starts of a scream rolled up her throat and along her tongue. Even muffled by her as it was, it remained a vile sound. One that gained the goons attention.

"Oh shit, she's awake."

"No shit Sherlock. Fuck, Lester better get back soon." He said, muttering the latter line but Taylor heard him all the same. "Alright Ms. Tinker, you just sit tight. Tge bosses are going to want a word with you."

Taylor paused in her struggling, a muffled question passing her lips. "Phincar?"

One of the men grinned, deciphering her question. "Why else would we pick you up for? We ain't them damn chunks, so don't worry about any of that."

"Jesus Franky."

"What?"

"You can't just say shit like that. Now that's all she's going to think about."

He wasn't exactly wrong but he wasn't right either. Taylor's mind did go there, even lingered for a while, but it had quickly moved on. Her thoughts were tracing and retracing their words, decrypting what these low men knew.

Tinker?

They took her because they thought she was a Tinker?

"Look, the bosses and Lester can explain it better but this ain't as bad as it looks. We just want to have a talk really, make sure you're going to make the right decisions." The vaguely smarter of the pair said. He even tried to give her a smile.

She snarled something at him.

"Yeah, she's not happy."

"No kidding, we basically kidnapped her. How'd you be feeling?"

"Well, we wouldn't have had to if she didn't keep going and talking to the heroes."

As they bickered Taylor yelled at them, stomping her feet for attention. She nearly toppled herself over in the process, her feet tied as they were to the chair legs, but she got their attention on her.

And away from her backpack.

"M ot eh Phincar." She enunciated, slowly and louder than the last two times.

"What's she saying?"

"She's got a gag in, how am I supposed to know?"

Taylor tried again, keeping their attention on her.

"Should we, yknow, take it out?"

"Lester said to keep her like this until he got back."

"What if she gots something important to say? Not like anyone can hear her scream out here. No one who'd squeal anyway."

The smarter one, for the stretch of the term, thought on this while Taylor gave him an imploring nod. Slowly, too slowly, he reached for her gag. Loosening the knot and letting her take in a proper breath

"I'm not a Tinker." She gasped, to the amusement of her captors.

"That's exactly what a-"

"I'm a Trump."

Flashes of purple and red flared behind them. Knocking them to the ground before they could comprehend what she said. As they groaned on the ground, clutching the brand new burns on the back of their heads, tiny hands snapped the ropes and zip ties binding her.

Rubbing her wrist she stood, five little figures floating around her. Dolls really, dolls of some of Brockton Bays most familiar figures. Aegis, Glory Girl, Lady Photon, Laserdream, Shielder.

And they weren't alone.

Half a dozen little dolls worked diligently under her command. None more than half a foot tall, moving in perfect synch to her commands.

Manpower lifted her bag from the table, jumping down with the dolls of Parian and Armsmaster trailing behind him. Flahsbang and Dauntless worked together to carry her haircurler over. Brandish and Panacea were already at her side, the latter clearing her system and mending the restraint burns.

One of the goons started to rise, eyes blinking as he saw the dozen Dolls at work. She had her Glory Girls reintroduce him to the floor.

The funny thing about her Glory Girl was that she wasn't super strong, she was surrounded by something that was. Something that took the shape of a normal sized teenage girl, though invisible to the naked eye.

She wondered if it was the same for the other Glory Girl.

Either way the goon, Franky, felt a firm and impossibly strong hand press him down into the concrete. She may have used a bit too much strength but she couldn't find it in herself to care.

She stepped over then, meeting her Dolls halfway and let her Parian get to work.

Threads and stitching came undone. Her hood and Jean giving way to a brown set of leggings and undershirt. Even her shoes came undone, faux leather falling away to reveal sections or silvery metal and plastic hidden within. Silvery sections that, under the gudiance of thread and her Armsmaster's power, assembled into boots.

Next came her booking. Inverting in on itself it's revealed it's true form. A green dress with a slit along either leg and silver breastplate, both fitting comfortably snug as she slid them on along with the silver gauntlets that had once been her backpacks cup holders.

Then came her mask, a full face affair with tinted lenses and the vague features of an adult woman. It had taken her the longest over her other pieces of equipment. She had wanted it to be just right.

This would be how she'd be remembered by others. How she would present herself to the world.

And these idiots ruined it.

They took that chance away from her.

She has to take a breath, to loosen her grip on her mask and stop her Glory Girl from adding pressure to the idiots' backs. Anger wasn't going to help her here, not yet.

She slipped the mask on, letting the seals pull tight, and waited for the lenses to adjust to her eyes. Once they met her prescription small and basic reading formed in the corners of her sight, simple ones thst she could understand without looking through either of her Tinkers' eyes.

For anything more complicated, well, she wasn't quite done suiting up.

With a mental command she called tow of her dolls forward. First she picked up her Armsmaster and opened the compartment hidden in her breastplate plate, right behind where a flame jewel laid. Proportionally the compartment has about as much space as a coffin. Which may have been a problem for a normal person but not for a Doll.

Her Armsmaster slid into place, tiny hands finding the toggle pads of their controls. With him settled she closed the compartment, the dark jewel on her chest revealing to be stylized and tinted glass. Glass that streamed lines of readings and system reports right to her Armsmaster's eyes, his power translating the results for her more human mind.

Next she grabbed her gauntlet, who still held her haircurler in a firm grip. Good, she wanted to use that.

Just like the front of her breastplate plate there was a faux jewel on her back, one that led to an equally small compartment. Only there were no controls there. Only a little hole just large enough for a cord to fit through.

With her Dauntless in place, setting the plug in the faux outlet within and wrapping himself around the cord, she unwound the cord. It's weight settling in her hand, feeling deceptively light for what it really was.

With a mental nudge her Dauntless activated his power. Letting the haircurlee draw from his as if he were the outlet.

Electric power hummed along what had been mundane. Glowing metal replaced black plastic and an ornate guard formed around her hand.

For a test she squeezed the handle, summoning a bar of solid heat to grow from her weapon of choice. It hummed in the air and lightened the room. Not nearly as strong as the other Dauntless's Arclance but it was a far cry better then it was months ago.

"Now," She started, the mask's modulator made her sound older, vaguely European, and ever so slightly digitized. It was meant to add to her disguise, to take her a step further away from Taylor Hebert. Now it was superfluous. An unneeded decoration. Because of them. "I have questions and you will answer them."

The two men looked up from the floor, confusion and more than a bit of fear plain in their eyes. Or so she thought. She wished she had brought her Gallant just to be sure but she had tried to pack light.

Instead she made sure they were afraid, flaring her Glory Girl's aura until sweat rolled down their faces.

"Who ordered this?" This was the first question buring in her mind. She needed to know. Who was the one who decided to ruin her second chance.

"I, I'm, i-it." Franky stuttered, unable to string the syllables together. Maybe she overdid it but she had to question if she cared.

She found that she didn't.

"Who!"

"No one! It was okay?" The smart one yelled. "We were just supposed to watch you but you kept talking to all those heroes so…"

"So you thought it would be a great idea to kidnap me?"

"You were talking to the cops!" He whined, failing to justify a thing. "What else were we supposed to do? Let another of the right sort turn against us? We had to, uh, um, take the initiative!"

Taylor scoffed and was sorely tempted to have her Dols blast them again. But she couldn't, she had more questions to asks."

"Where am I?"

"I dunno, the Docks somewhere? Near the old meat packing place?" She had her Glory Girl add some pressure. "I really don't! I'm better with landmarks!"

"Dix! We're off of Dix!" The other man shouted as his friend started to wheeze.

"Who else knows about me?"

"I dunn-" He stopped, realizing what that answer got him last time. "Probably everyone important. I'm just a grunt!"

"And yet they had you watching me."

"Because I know Lester! I know shit about anything."

Taylor hummed, giving hisnsyatement all the consideration it was due.

"And where is Lester?"

"Out." He started to cough as an invisible hand pressed against his back. "Ah, ah, okay, fuck! He's out talking to the local boss, he ain't happy with us."

"I'm not happy with you."

"He's worse and he's probably coming here right now." He said that as if it were a threat. "So I'd get to running if I were you."

She probably would, in due time. When she was good and ready, not when some lowlife told her to.

"And whines this Boss I should be so afraid of?"

"Krieg."

Taylor knew that name. It was one of many she kept on a long list back at home. A list she meticulously kept, researched, and checked off.

A list of every Cape in Brockton Bay. Aist of every possible Doll.

She had thought it would take seem time before she'd get a chance to mark off a villain. Yet here it came, strolling right towards her.

How could she refuse?

AN:

Sorry for any errors, unedited even by Grammarly. Kids took up a lot of my time today and I wanted this done before my midnight shift started.

Anyway, power!

Here we have a Trump/Master Taylor who can make a Doll of any parahuman she touches. Each is of roughly 1 Foot = 1 Inch proportion, meaning a 6 foot man would only be 6 inches tall as a Doll. Their powers come off as proportional too but that is sort of a misnomer. Size matters for range, leverage, area of effect, ect. She can have one copy of every parahuman she's come into contact with but can only use the Doll as long as it's in her relatively short range. Thinking 16 feet.

Basically she's a miniature Khephri/Golden Morning.

In universe a lot of people will compare her to Glaistig Uaine, what with having a small court of fairy falling around her (Her fliers really didn't help). A lot of capes are uncomfortable with this but her response back is "If you didn't want your powers copied then you shouldn't have so many public events".

A big theme of the story will be trusting others and learning to ask for help because as far as Taylor is concerned she is all the help she needs. She's wrong.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Please tell me.what you think. Peace.

Sidenote: I was planning to have this with the fight scene, y'know so there were 3 distinct scenes, but I felt like the snip was getting a bit long. I wouldn't mind doing a part 2 since I need to work in fight scenes again.