Current Energy: 13
Current Training: Inner Peace (7/10) Currently 3 to Complete
Monday, January 17th, 2011
Winslow High School, Brockton Bay
School is an interesting affair that day. Your Master - having apparently realized that no one would dare contradict, argue with, or spite her, while she's within earshot - marches through the crowds of students with a relaxed air uncommon to her outside of her home.
There are also significantly more students than last week, presumably because they have all realized that Taylor isn't going to kill them all. The fact that the possibility did exist prior to this isn't something you would point out but well... all is well that ends well you suppose.
You somewhat expect the day to go on as peacefully as any other, and so go about your usual business of monitoring the halls for anything illicit or dangerous looking, when an announcement rings out throughout the building.
"Taylor Hebert to the principles office, please. That's Taylor Hebert, to the principles office." The P.A buzzes in a monotone voice that screams of apathy.
You frown, wondering if this has anything to do with the still currently missing Greg. One of the first things you did when arriving today was checking to see if the boy was present, which he wasn't. Sensing your Master moving through the halls, you decide to move towards her, and eventually end up walking into the office of the school. Invisibly, of course.
The office is - like much of the rest of the school, 'dingey'. You can't think of a better word for it. You'd almost consider it weather-worn if you weren't sure that the room was sealed against the outside. The room itself is small, basically consisting of four plastic chairs for people to wait in, a desk to the right of a door with the word 'Blackwell' emblazoned on a metal plate at its center, and just enough space between all of those things for one or two people to stand in front of said desk.
"I was called?" Taylor says, keeping her tone carefully neutral even though you can practically feel resentment and hostility rolling off her in waves.
"Yes, take a seat." The nasally voiced woman sitting behind the desk says, throwing your Master a nervous look as she speaks.
Your Master - her tension still obscenely high - acquiesces, sitting down and staring straight ahead.
'Are you going to be okay?' You ask her worriedly.
'Yes. No. I don't know. I hate these people.' Taylor answers bitterly.
'Well, they're clearly terrified of you.' You note.
'That's because they know I hate them.' Taylor replies. 'It actually makes it worse. I can't lose my temper with these people, or they'll call the PRT.'
The silence in the room stretches for another few minutes, long enough that you get bored and wander into the Principles office directly, only to find the woman slowly typing away at her computer in utter silence. She checks her watch once, glances at the door, and then returns to what she was doing.
'I don't think she's actually doing anything. Why are we waiting?' You ask curiously.
'Because she has the survival instincts of a lemming, and I have the patience of a saint.' Taylor responds, and you can clearly detect the faint grinding of teeth in her transmission.
Eventually - presumably because she can't actually make your Master miss an entire class - Taylor is let into the principles office, where she is regarded by the stick thing and severe-looking woman with the kind of reserved distaste you're fairly certain normal people reserve for things they accidentally step in.
"Are you aware why you are here Miss Hebert?" She asks finally.
"...No." Taylor says, obviously biting back the much more lengthy and aggressive response she probably would have preferred.
"Some students have come to me claiming they are being 'hunted by a bear' on school grounds. Would you happen to know anything about that?" The principle asks pointedly.
"...No?" Taylor answers this time, her tension rising another level.
'What did you do?' She asks you mentally.
'Nothing! I've been guarding the school like you asked!' You complain back.
'This whole time!? I didn't want you to keep doing it!' She responds in panic.
"Good. Last week was quiet. I'd like it to continue being that way." Blackwell snorts, turning back to her computer. Your Master stares at her in utter confusion at the frank dismissal.
"You can go." The principle says, apparently having assumed your Master would have gotten the message and left already. At this, she does, getting up and walking stiffly out of the office with a still confused look on her face.
'That wasn't so bad.' You opine.
'That... I don't understand. She had to know I was lying. It was so obvious it was painful. But she just... accepted it?' Taylor answers.
'Not to toot my own horn but ah, I have been the law 'round these parts.' You explain pridefully.
'So... as long as I keep the Gang Violence down she'll just... give me a free pass? I don't... is this what Sophia was doing? The PRT thought she was a Parahuman so maybe she had a deal with Blackwell?' Your Master muses, slowly growing angrier as she walks to class.
'So everything is fine as long as the greater good is served? No one matters more than the collective?' Taylor continues angrily. Then the anger drains out of her, and she pauses, standing in front of the door to her classroom.
'I was an acceptable target because it meant everyone else got to be safe. And now I'm benefiting from the same system that made me trigger.'
'Are you going to be okay? We could leave early?' You ask her worriedly.
'No.' She answers, opening the door and stepping into her classroom.
You aren't sure which question she was answering.
Monday, January 17th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
Accompanying Danny to the bank after school was - overall - a fairly boring affair. You met the bank manager, who is apparently the only person authorized to open Cape accounts, and Taylor spent the majority of her time fidgeting with a coin with one hand, swishing it around whenever it was out of sight while trying to stop the penny from falling off. It was cute in a 'probably not actually worth anything' kind of way, not that you actually told her that.
That task done, you all return home. You are fairly confident that Aspirant will have his hands full with just the simple series of moves you showed him before leaving yesterday, and so feel no need to go to the headquarters to check on him.
Which is how you find yourself - once more - in the basement with your Master, having pulled a lump of grass out of the yard for the excercise.
"This. Isn't. Possible." Your Master growls at you as she runs through the movements she's been practicing for the fourth time.
"It's not about your stance. You need to attain Inner Peace. A calm heart. A strong will. When you have that, fast, slow, it doesn't matter - the blade of grass won't fall." You say with some amusement.
"That's even more frustrating. Where is this guy from anyway?" Taylor answers you with a frown.
"China. Don't stop moving." You instruct, leaning back and relaxing.
"And everyone in his China is a talking animal?" Taylor presses.
"Yes. Keep moving." You command when it becomes obvious Taylor is intent on evading the exercise.
"Then have you considered that maybe non-animal people can't do this?" She asks triumphantly.
"Yes. It's wrong. Okay look, do you want a hint?" You say with a sigh.
"Yes." Your Master growls at you.
"Think about your Locker." You say, eliciting a sharp flinch from her.
"Think about it, but don't let it affect you. Think about it - but know that it can't hurt you. Isn't your fault. Isn't your future. It just is. When you can think about it without feeling anything - then you're halfway there." You intone. Hm. You can distinctly remember this Emulation having no idea how to do any of that himself and then suddenly just... doing it. Strange.
"I- " Taylor starts with a frown, then starts when her cellphone begins to ring. You shrug at her when she turns towards you. Sure, now she wants you to demand she practice.
"Hello?" Taylor answers as she picks up the phone, her tone nothing if not resigned.
"Taylor? Um. It's me Greg? You- uh, you know Glory Girl right?" You can hear the missing Greg's voice half yell through the receiver of the phone.
"Yes. I'm not getting you her autograph Greg, it's too weird and-" Taylor starts with some annoyance.
"No! Look uh, I'm with a friend and he's kind of bleeding out? Like, a lot? Could you get Panacea do you think?" Greg yells, his voice rising with panic.
"Shit, shit, shit, hey look I'm getting help just- uh, take deep breaths?" He continues, followed by a retching noise.
'I could heal him.' You offer worriedly.
"Greg, where are you?" Taylor asks.
"I- you probably don't want to get involved with-" Greg blurts.
"Greg. Where." Taylor grinds out, already moving towards the stairs.
He answers, and Taylor hangs up.