Current Energy: 18
Current Training: Aura (5/10)
Saturday, January 29th, 2011
Uptown, Brockton Bay
Your Master sidesteps the problem of transporting Uber and Leet to a prison cell from atop a skyscraper by the simple expedient of opening a Gap leading from where you currently are, to an empty prison cell adjacent to the one you once spoke to Miss Militia in.
But not before reaching down to pinch each of them on the neck while absent-mindedly pawing at her cellphone, causing the two villains to immediately stiffen and go slack. The fact that your Master is arguably having more trouble with a cellphone than typically has fighting supervillains is not lost on Vicky, who snorts at her while she attempts to successfully produce a workable message.
"Seriously Taylor, get a real phone. It'll make things easier." Vicky chides your Master, eyeing the Gap she has created for a second before shrugging and hurling Uber and Leet bodily through it like two bags of loose garbage. The Gap closes automatically behind them.
"This is a real phone." Your Master scowls.
"Tay, it's a brick. I've seen guys use phones like that as saps by putting them in socks and swinging them at me. It didn't work, but I mean - seriously." Vicky points out in amusement. Your Master purses her lips at the comment but continues on doggedly.
"I don't really like cellphones." She admits after a bit, shrugging uncomfortably.
"Oh. Yeah, I kind of forgot about the thing with... Anyway!" Vicky notes, tilting her head in thought as she connects what your Master is saying to what she knows of her background. Then abruptly changes the subject.
"So uh, how's my Aunt?" She asks quickly, glancing nervously over the side of the building. Taylor pauses in her typing for a moment to look up at the blond seriously.
"She's... I have to do some research. She's kind of..." Taylor trails off after a second, obviously trying to find a way to describe her insights on the subject.
"Is she like... hurt or something? So you can't bring her back?" Vicky asks in a resigned tone, like she was half expecting this turn of events.
"I was going to say 'Poltergeisty'. I'm pretty sure if you put someone she hated in front of her long enough she could find a way to actually hurt them. I'm not sure how that would translate to suddenly being alive again. I don't think you want your Aunt to come back and immediately start trying to murder the remains of the Empire." Taylor explains diplomatically.
Vicky blinks once, then mouths the word 'Poltergeisty' with a concerned look on her face.
"But you still can bring her back right?" Vicky pushes.
"Yeah, I just need to make sure I don't accidentally turn her into a Y- a Ph-..." Your Master pauses, noticing Vicky's curious look, then quickly looks from side to side to ensure no one is present (somehow) on the rooftop with you.
"This is a secret okay?" Your Master says, her tension ratcheting up noticeably. You can tell why. Vicky might be the closest thing your Master has to a 'best friend' besides you, but in general, they usually avoid talking about anything too heavy. Until now, Taylor has been far too conscious of the damage her last 'best friend' was capable of with all of her secrets to hand. Vicky, seeming to pick up on how important this moment is to your Master, lands on the roof and nods firmly at her.
"Hey, we're besties right? Just uh, bring me back if my mom kills me later for not telling her this." She says jokingly.
"...When I bring people back, if I make a mistake, there's a chance they could come back wrong." Taylor says, her shoulders inching upwards.
"...How wrong?" Vicky asks slowly.
"...Fear eating cannibal demon wrong." Taylor says with a wince.
"And... that's... likely?" Vicky asks, obviously trying to force down a certain degree of panic.
"No! It's just... possible. Like, how every time you get into a car there's a chance you could crash." Your Master says, wincing at the example given.
"You realize that statistically, everyone gets into at least one accident in their lifetime right?" Vicky points out, once more reminding you that she is not, in fact, a moron.
"I- If you don't want me to do it anymore, I understand," Taylor says with some shame and sadness in her voice.
"What? No, that's stupid. People take pills with worse side effects just so they can shit properly. I'm just saying, it's probably going to happen eventually." Vicky snarks, causing your Master to stare at her incredulously. Then she grins.
"You suck, you know that?" Taylor says earnestly.
"I mean if you ask Dean-" Vicky smirks.
"Nope! We're done! Moments over!" Taylor yelps, practically leaping across the rooftop to get away from her friend.
"Aw come on! It was just a joke!" Vicky yells after her, flying across the rooftop to chase her around while she continues to evade.
[...forgive me Oscar, but, if this is an alternate reality, there should be analogues of most people from my own world here, correct?] Ozma asks you while you watch the impromptu game of superpowered tag play out.
"That's alternate realities. This is a separate distinct reality." You say absently.
[What exactly is the difference?] Ozma asks doggedly.
"An alternate reality is a function of time and free will. Um. If you reach a fork in the road and turn left, you create an alternate reality where you turned right instead. They're all variations of each other, spiralling out into infinity." You explain carefully, drastically simplifying your knowledge of the subject down to a level a normal person could understand.
"A distinct reality is completely different. It has no relation to any other. The choices you make, the events that occur - they don't matter to one another. Normally, anyway." You finish.
[...You aren't really Oscar, are you?] The voice notes pointedly.
"I told you, I'm a power, not a person. I'm just faking it." You say with a certain degree of melancholy.
[If that was the case, you would be better at pretending to be Oscar. To be different you would have to be distinct in the first place.] Ozma points out. You don't disagree, but you aren't really comfortable discussing the topic. Especially not with the voice in your head. It cuts just a bit too close to other things that have started bothering you recently.
So you change the topic.
"They're kind of like Yang and Blake right?" You note, shifting so that you are standing with both hands resting on Long Memory in front of you.
[In some respects, yes.] Ozma acknowledges, allowing the topic to drop.
You hope it stays that way.
But you doubt it.
Saturday, January 29th, 2011
PRT Headquarters, Brockton Bay
"I think the Director would appreciate it if you would call ahead before dumping people in our prison Nexus." Miss Militia warns your Master as she steps through a Gap and into the lobby of the PRT building downtown. Vicky had taken a Gap to her own home in lieu of joining you, obviously deciding she needed to check on her family despite knowing via a message that they were all perfectly safe.
"I sent a text!" Taylor answers defensively.
"You sent that after you dropped Uber and Leet in our basement." Miss Militia points out. On the one hand, her criticism is valid, and in truth, you suspect your Master would be in a lot more trouble if she was anyone else but herself. On the other, the woman before you is obviously smiling through the bandana covering her face, her eyes squinted in good humour as she speaks.
"I... okay yeah. Sorry. I'm just really bad with phones." Taylor answers sheepishly.
"You aren't in trouble, so don't worry about it. Just keep it in mind for the future." Miss Militia offers as she leads you further into the building. As she walks, she glances askance at you curiously.
"New projection?" She asks curiously and without malice.
"Yeah, he's pretty great. We're already working on some new tricks." Taylor says with a malicious smile on her face.
"Trainwreck wanted to sleep with me." You say dutifully repeating the words your Master had told you to say, your voice and face absolutely neutral.
"...Should I be worried?" Miss Militia asks, half seriously.
"N-no, I was a lot more..." You stutter out, composure breaking as your Master begins to cackle in the background, then begin to blush and mime an hourglass figure in the air in front of you with your hands. "...that, at the time." You finish lamely.
"...I see." Miss Militia says doubtfully, no doubt recalling her one and only encounter with the metal man. The one where he chose to comment on her figure before even greeting her.
Before you can jump in to defend your teammate, you arrive at your destination.
Another completely non-descript looking conference room. You can't help but wonder how many of these things the PRT has. You know for a fact this one is in a different location than the last time you were here. Do the PRT just do a lot of conferencing?
The room itself is taken up by almost the entire local Protectorate and Wards teams. The only person who's obviously missing is Triumph, which you file away for later consideration. Also to your surprise, the Director isn't present, a fact your Master also picks up on.
"Where's the Director?" She asks curiously, not bothering to hide her distaste for the woman.
"The Director is the head of the PRT. I am head of the Protectorate. She doesn't sit in on every meeting." Armsmaster states coldly from where he is standing at the head of the table. You say 'coldly' but really, he just showed slightly more annoyance than your average toaster might be capable of, which is a marked improvement on his usual semi-robotic interactions with you. You've seen enough of him to know he's capable of not being such an ass, but for reasons beyond you, he obviously prefers not to.
"Huh. I'm okay with that. Hey guys." Taylor says easily, waving at the Wards and walking over to drop into a seat next to Vista, who's eyes go wide at your Master's sudden presence.
"...Hi?" She says carefully, as if gauging the reaction of a large animal that has unexpectedly exited the brush nearby. Your Master gives the younger girl a curious look, but is quickly distracted as Armsmaster begins to speak.
"Today there were three simultaneous villain attacks in the city. One of which targeted a Ward's patrol." Armsmaster says. He doesn't move but all the lights dim and a fancy hologram projector begins to display images in the center of the table.
"Your tax dollars at work." You don't find it weird until Clockblocker leans in to whisper something in Gallant's ear, causing him to stifle a chuckle that Armsmaster promptly ignores.
"It should be obvious that these attacks were coordinated, possibly with the intent of making it impossible for us to respond to all of them at once. At this time we are being told that none of these groups are directly allied with each other, but even this level of cooperation is worrying. As a result, Ward's patrols will be reduced, and will be accompanied by an adult Protectorate member at all times, and we will be going over fall back positions that you can escape too in the event that you are ambushed outside the building. Questions before we move on?" Armsmaster states with all the inflection of an information kiosk.
No, wait. That's a lie. Information kiosks are designed to be welcoming. This is worse than that.
"What do you need from my guys?" Your Master puts forth gamely.
"We've recently noticed that a handful of our officers can no longer locate or recall the location of your Headquarters. If you could explain and focus this effect, we'd like to use it as a fallback position." Armsmaster states easily.
"It's... already focused? You can't find it if you have malicious intent towards anyone in it." Taylor explains quizzically. Armsmaster stills for a second, then looks to his right to Miss Militia, who quickly nods and leaves the room. Then he continues.
"Noted. Do you have any objection to allowing the Wards access to the building in an emergency?" He asks.
"Not really. Actually, if we're talking about emergencies..." Your Master mutters, reaching into a pocket and withdrawing two dozen pieces of card stock - most of what remains of her frenzied morning calligraphy sessions these past few days.
"Here. I put my healing power into them, so you can just rip it and you should be healed." She says, carelessly dropping the pile on the table in front of her. Everyone in the room pauses to stare at your Master, then down at the cards covered in Japanese script, then back at your Master again.
"She's the most trumpiest trump to ever trump, I swear," Clockblocker says, breaking the silence.
"Sorry, just - don't you kind of hate us right now?" Vista asks hesitantly, darting a glance towards Armsmaster to see if he would interrupt. He doesn't, obviously being too busy intently studying a card he has raised in front of his visor to care at the moment.
"Why would I?" Your Master asks in confusion.
"B-because we were mean to you! At the restaurant! And Shadow Stalker was a mega-bitch to you!" Vista yells, stopping to glance around when she notices she just swore.
"Well, in order, meh, language, and yeah - but you said you thought she was a bitch anyway so why would I blame you for that?" Taylor asks quizzically. You find her blase response to the situation amusing, considering that as little as four weeks ago she probably would have taken that particular grudge to the grave.
"Yeah, but we tolerated her!" Vista complains in confusion. You can't tell if she's looking for clarification or just wants your Master to get mad at her at this point.
"I'd like to have it on record that I, at no point, tolerated her." Clockblocker offers easily.
"You were the worst! You were always talking about her- her- you know!" Vista cries out, pointing indignantly at him.
"...In my defence." The redhead says, making a shape in the air with his hands.
"Clock!" Kid Win snaps angrily, finally deciding to join the conversation while Gallant stoically weathers the yelling.
"I'll allow it," Taylor says with an annoyed shrug, catching the junior Tinker off guard.
"...Seriously?" He asks her incredulously.
"No. Don't ever say anything nice about Shadow Stalker ever again or I'll throw you into the sun." Taylor answers flatly. The Wards stare at her for a second, obviously trying to decide if she's joking or not. She is, but only just barely. The distinct sense of simmering rage your Master typically feels when she thinks about Sophia Hess, Maddison Clements, or Emma Barnes is still present beneath everything else, but it's contained, focused. It doesn't guide your Master. It simply is.
"Seriously, what am I supposed to do? Getting mad isn't going to help." Taylor answers tiredly, her previously relaxed demeanour fading as she slumps in her seat. You wonder how much of her recent unflappableness is a result of your previous Emulation.
"So... we're square then?" Aegis says diplomatically, coming forward as the team leader.
"Sure. Square. Do people still say that? I was never cool so I don't actually know." Taylor answers, her lips twitching upward into a faint grin as Aegis flounders to respond.
Then Armsmaster clears his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to the head of the table, where the majority of the Protectorate has been watching the goings on of the Wards with some mild amusement. Your Master blushes slightly at the attention, but turns her focus to Armsmaster, pushing down her embarrassment.
"Now, so far we haven't noticed any obvious signs of a new gang forming, but a number of known Villain's from the surrounding cities have suddenly gone missing. Blasto, the Teeth, and Accord have all been noticeably absent from Boston so-" Armsmaster begins to drone on, rattling off names and strings of data that hold absolutely no meaning to you as you currently are. You listen anyway, if only so the information will be available to you later. You can feel Ozma greedily absorbing it all, regardless of his lack of context, the ancient wizard clearly ready to make use of the information as soon as it becomes necessary.
When the meeting is done, and everyone is filtering out of the conference room, Armsmaster stops your Master with a gesture, and the pair wait for everyone else to filter out before he speaks.
"If possible, the Director would like to engage your services to help us locate Dauntless. We've already prepared a room for the purpose." He says diplomatically. You assume that's code for 'bring our dead friend back'. Taylor considers that for a moment, obviously recalling Fleur and her promise to Vicky, then nods and rattles off a list of items she'll need that you can no longer make heads or tails of.
"There's... one more thing." Armsmaster says, almost guiltily before he leads your Master out of the room, she stops mid step to look at him, one eyebrow raised in question.
"Dragon wants to observe the process." He states woodenly.
"Dragon, like... the greatest Tinker in the world Dragon?" Taylor asks hesitantly.
"Yes." Armsmaster answers simply.
Your Master goes temporarily cross eyed for a moment, then makes a high pitched noise that is half way between panic and excitement.
"...I will assume that means you find the request agreeable." Armsmaster responds.
[Again I find myself reminded of another man I know.] Ozma chimes in sadly.
"Ironwood?" You ask quietly under your breath.
[Yes. I don't suppose 'Dragon' is an Artificial Intelligence that has decided to claim him as her father?] He asks jokingly.
You snort. You really, really doubt that.