An idea that I thought was amusing and wrote out a bit, this was also suggested by the responses of r/WormFanfic and the stuff they were tired of seeing. So this was what I could come up with to get around a bunch of those concerns.
It was her first day on patrol.
Last month, her best friend, her sister-in-all-but-blood, had told her to get lost. That she was weak, pathetic, holding her back.
Last month had been the worst day of her life.
Then it had gotten better.
"Squeak-squeak-squeakity?"
"Yeah, just thinking," Taylor told the mouse.
"Squeak-squeak-SQUEAK. Squeeky!"
"I'd like to 'believe it' really," agreed 14 year old Taylor Hebert, reaching up and adjusting her mask.
She'd wandered around that day, passing by a couple of other people at the Boardwalk while everyone was crowded together. Some people had been interested in seeing the new cape, Panacea, but she'd mostly been wallowing in grief.
Something had happened and she'd ended up with powers.
A mouse appeared in a poof of smoke. "Squeak!"
"What's that, there's a bunch of dogs over there?"
"Squeak!"
"And a lot of people?"
"Squeak-squeak!"
"And they're getting ready to kill a dog?! Sounds sketchy. Show me."
Her power didn't include giving herself powers, unfortunately. She could do those under her command though.
Wait. What if she put herself under her own command?
"I am the ruler of my destiny, the commander of my own fate," said Taylor aloud.
"Squeak?"
"Trying something out," said Taylor. "Maybe I'd need to say it confidently?"
"Squeak-squeak, squeak?"
"You're right, I'm stalling." Taylor clenched her fist and went into a Declaration Pose.
"Squeak." "Squeak." "Squeaker." (polite applause from four mice.)
"Let's go, ninja mice squad!" said Taylor.
* "Abandoned" Warehouse *
"Did you see that?"
"See what?"
"A little mouse in a little ninja costume tripping and falling on his nose, holding a little finger up to his nose and winking at me, then scurrying off into the warehouse we're guarding."
"Okay, I told you to lay off that weed. You know that guy cuts it with some weird shit."
"Yeah, I know, I know. It's just it's never been THAT weird before."
* Roof *
"Squeak."
"Just (huff) catching (puff) my breath."
"Squeak?"
"Let me look then. I... oh how cute! A little dachshund! Looks scared though."
"Squeakity-squeak."
"What's a 'feeder dog'?"
"Squeak-squeak-squeak."
Taylor's blood ran cold. "No."
"Squeak," said Ninja Mouse #2, pointing elsewhere.
Taylor's saw the dog look up, turning pleading eyes skyward, and for a moment their eyes met and she KNEW the dog. And accepted it as her minion.
"Enhance. Empower," whispered Taylor, her eyes seeming to flash with inner lightning.
* Taco *
His name had been Taco in human-speak.
He hadn't been very bright, even in dog terms. Despite that, he'd been loved.
His human had been hurt and he'd been taken away during a walkie. He hadn't been able to help his human.
Then he was here and the smell of other dogs' blood and mean big dogs were going to kill him.
He'd looked upward as a wayward scent touched his nose and saw a human hiding up there.
And suddenly he KNEW.
Things that had been confusing human-stuff were suddenly clear.
Human up there was now his human. Maybe he could go back to his first human, but this human was now also his human.
Human wanted him to live. Taco wanted to live. There was agreement. This was good.
Taco let his little feet grip the floor as he hunched down. The yells and human-speak slowed and lowered in pitch. More, more, more. Now the humans were barely moving and the two big dogs that had been released were frozen in the air.
He had to run. Run Taco Run.
(BOOM!)
Faster. Faster. Faster. He couldn't escape this killing ring unless he was a lot faster.
(BOOM!)
* Taylor *
Taylor scrambled off the roof.
"Squeak!"
A moment later the roof came off as a tornado whipped around in the warehouse.
A metal wolf, caught in the whirlwind, made a noise like crushing metal as he arced up and out of the warehouse. Then he threw up. Then he came down.
(ZOOM!)
"Look at that weiner dog go!" yelled someone as a streak left the warehouse.
(BOOM!)
"Squeak."
"Hey, it was the power that my power gave him. It's not like I chose it!"
"Warf!"
"OH! A corgi!"
"Squeak!"
"Well, he isn't a feeder dog now, is he? Who's a cute-ums? You are!"
"Wuff!"
"Sure. Why not. How I'm going to explain this to Dad though."
"Wuff!" "Warf!"
"Empower!"
* PRT ENE HQ *
"Tracking. Sensors indicate it's a small object, but the wind from it passing by is throwing trash and loose objects around."
"What's it's speed?"
"Hard to pin down. Looks to be about 1500mph."
"Got a picture. Object stopped for a traffic light."
"You're kidding me."
"And he's off again."
"That's one fast weiner dog."
* Taylor PoV *
"Okay, I'm right wiped out," I said to the two dogs that had literally followed me home.
"Uff," said the German Shephard. (Yeah, that takes a lot out of you, doesn't it?)
"Oof," said the Corgi. (So do we go in, stay in the yard, wait for the dog-signal?)
"I don't have a dog-signal," I told them. "And where did you even get the idea for something like that?"
"Aff?" asked the Corgi. (Wait, you mean that's a real thing? Coolness!)
"No, it's not coolness," I said, standing near the back door. "Dad doesn't even know that Emma told me to go off and die, that she never wanted to see me. That I got powers somehow then and that's why I decided to fill out the paperwork online to switch from Winslow to Arcadia."
"Eff," said the German Shepherd. (Uhm. Something I need to mention.)
"He'd just worry and get upset if he knew I was a parahuman with the ability to enhance dogs and give them superpowers," I told them.
"Uff," said the Corgi. (Taylor?)
"What do we call you anyway? Not parahumans. Paradogs? Is that a thing?" I asked them.
"Well," said my father's voice, causing me to leap nearly three feet in the air and come down on my butt. Which hurt by the way. "We could try discussing this. Young lady. Come in and sit down. We WILL be having a talk."
"Urf?" asked the German Shepherd. (Tried to tell you. Should we come in as well?)
Dad looked at the two. "Are you real dogs?"
"Unf," whined the Corgi. (Interesting question. Are we real? Do we exist? Is what our senses report to us a true representitive of reality? If it is, or if it is not, how would you go about proving it?)
"Erf," said the German Shepherd. (Dude, it's freaking late. Can we leave off philosophical debates until we've got a decent meal and some rest?)
"Can you just remain in the yard for now?" asked my father.
"Yeah, they can do that," I told him.
"Uff." The German Shepherd waved a forepaw. (A water dish would be nice.)
"I don't speak dog," said Dad.
"He was asking for a water dish," I told him. I'd get the pan and fill it. It was a legitimate way of stalling after all.
* Danny Hebert *
Life had gotten weird.
Very weird.
But alternatively funny and somewhat lively.
"I need a ninja," declared Danny Hebert.
Taylor's power was Minions. Empowered and enhanced them. At which point they were mostly independent.
It faded, as near as she could tell, over the course of a week. Maybe. Taylor was still figuring that out.
"Squeak!" said a ninja-mouse, kneeling before him in its little black outfit with the itty bitty sword on its back.
"I need you to deliver a letter to the PRT," said Danny in his most imperious manner. If the mice liked this role, who was he to deny them their fun?
"Squeak!" declared the ninja-mouse, bringing a paw to its chest in a salute despite mouse physiology not being well adapted for such a thing.
He'd put the message on a post-it note, then rolled it up with a bit of dental floss to tie it closed in the manner of a scroll.
"Squeak!" squeaked the ninja-mouse, looking happy as it accepted the scroll.
"I..." Taylor began, subsiding when he gave her a Look.
Danny Hebert sighed. "No, I'm not recommending you join the Wards. I'm just saying things will go easier if you're already registered with them. You know how many times in those old series that the heroes get into a fight because they don't know each other. This way you're registered and they maybe have your back."
The ninja-mouse, Danny thought it was Hattori, waited until Taylor nodded before it vanished in a poof of smoke.
* PRT Front Desk *
She had come running at the mention of an emergency at the front desk, her power manifesting as an assault rifle.
Seeing the receptionist back against the back wall of her kiosk, she looked around for the threat. And kept looking. And still looking.
"Squeak!"
Her eyes tracked down. A mouse. A mouse in a little outfit with a wee little sword strapped to its back. It knelt before her, fist against chest in a salute, then got up to bow and present her with an itty bitty scroll. That looked like a rolled-up yellow post-it note.
"Uhm. Thank you," said Miss Militia, taking the little note. The mouse nodded, bowed again, then vanished in a poof of smoke.
Miss Militia unrolled the post-it, turned the paper the right way, then read.
[New hero wants to schedule paperwork. Not sure how to do this. Is Tuesday at 1700 okay?]
Miss Militia went behind the desk, got out a post-it note, scribbled on it briefly, then looked around the room. "I have a reply."
(Poof!) appeared the same little ninja mouse in its tiny little ninja outfit with the wee little sword.
Handing off the confirmation and her phone number, Miss Militia watched the little mouse bow then vanish again. "I swear, sometimes - this city."
* Glenn Chambers *
"So who we have scheduled for next Tuesday is the cape tentatively named Power Girl."
"Trademarked from one of the old comic companies. They went bankrupt and we could probably use it, but to avoid confusion we shouldn't," remarked the head of the Image department. "Continue."
"Her power is animal enhancement and empowerment," continued Agent Cathburt, putting some photos out on the desk. "Ninja mice, super-powered dogs... Sir?"
"Christmas came early," said Glenn Chambers as he went through the photos. "Ninja mice? A Dachshund that was running at Mach speeds? A force-field producing Corgi? A teleporting English Bulldog? We get this cape into the Wards and the merchandising will be legendary."
"Unless the animals are killed by villains," said Agent Cathburt. "At which point it becomes animal abuse."
* Director Piggot *
"Some sort of Trump/Master?" asked Director Piggot. "She can do dogs like Hellhound?"
"Not quite," said Miss Militia. "I asked for their phone number." Miss Militia raised the phone up. "If you would, now."
There was a circle of light that became a dome and when it faded there was a skinny fourteen-year-old girl and a very large bulldog there.
Emily Piggot blinked.
"This is what you wanted, right, Miss Militia?" asked the girl, awkwardly adjusting her domino mask.
"Yes, thank both of you," said Miss Militia.
"Row-ruff," said the bulldog.
"No ninja mice?" asked Miss Militia.
"'Ninja'. 'Mice,'" said Emily Piggot.
(POOF!)
Three ninja mice appeared on her desk, bowed once, then somersaulted off in different directions to vanish a moment later.
Director Piggot picked up her coffee cup, sniffed it once, then turned a flat look towards Miss Militia.
"Wuff?" asked the bulldog.
* Current Roster *
Taco, Dachsund. near Flash-level super-speed. (Likes his power, favors Nutrish, bit of ADHD)
Gus, German Shepherd Dog, the Bat-dog. (Serious, gruff, focuses on immediate situation then plans for future.)
Locke, giant English Bulldog, teleport discs. (Happy-go-lucky, loves to see new places, embraces British stereotypes)
Hope, Corgi, able to form blue force-field constructs. (Optimist, enthusiastic about being a hero dog, wants a dog-signal.)
Hattori, ninja mouse, sword-wielder. (stoic, mission-oriented, reads a lot)
Ayame, ninja mouse, pharmaceuticals expert. (kunoichi, bright, cosplay enthusiast)
Naru, ninja mouse, very shonen protag. (genki, not so bright, reads manga)