Current Energy: 15
Current Training: Monster Hunter (6/10)
Tuesday, February 1st, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
"It's probably a trap." You say instantly, not willing to so much as pretend to trust Sophia Hess at her word.
"Probably." Your Master says, her face pinched in thought, her gaze never straying from the piece of paper held loosely in her hands.
"So we're going to call the PRT then." You prod again, frowning when your Master doesn't immediately jump to the same conclusion as you, and instead, continues to stare at the piece of paper.
"Taylor?" You ask her again, this time with a more worried inflection to your voice.
"Emmy? I really hate asking this but can you..." Taylor starts then pauses, glancing between you and the piece of paper before crumpling it and exhaling slowly.
"Nevermind. I'll call the PRT." She says tiredly, turning around and heading down the stairs.
[Is there some significance that I am missing?] Ozma asks as your Master vanishes down the stairs.
"...people here get powers on the worst day of their life. That's just how it works. It's called a trigger event and..." You trail off in mild consternation. It would be one thing to describe the mechanics of Parahuman triggers to someone casually, but your Master's trigger event is a sore spot for you. It makes you think of the effects your species has obviously had on this civilization. Effects that your current Emulation can draw a direct parallel to the Grimm over. Even if it couldn't, the sheer chaos and upheavel Parahuman's seem to cause regularly has been nagging at you lately.
Shaking your head, you put it out of your mind. You'll think about it later. Eventually.
"...and it scars you. Pretty much all Parahumans have a kind of PTSD related to their trigger. That bitch is the person who caused Taylors." You finish explaining. You are feeling a degree of anger that is decidedly uncharacteristic for this Emulation. Frustration, yes, god, does this Emulation get easily fed up with things. But rage? Not so much. Of course, this means that you are now officialy acting outside of your Emulations parameters. And that worries you. Because it's not... normal.
[I see. And you - we - are a result of the power Miss Hebert obtained from that event?] Ozma asks.
"Yes." You spit out.
[Then there is no use being angry over it Oscar. I doubt Miss Hebert would change things if she could.] The old man counsels you, leaving you blinking stupidly at nothing as you consider that.
"I don't-" You start to counter but are cut off.
[I haven't been... 'here' I suppose, for very long, but I can already tell that you are much closer to Taylor than mere tool, or pet. In all likelihood, she would interpret your current mood as regret at having met her. I assume she would be saddened by that.] Ozma points out.
You don't respond to that.
Although you do calm down in response, if only slightly.
You... don't know how to feel about this. You dislike introspection - it implies personal fault, which you don't typically admit to having many of. More so than that, it implies personhood, which you likewise don't typically have much of. If you had to choose between your Master and the proper functioning of the cycle... could you? You instinctively want to say yes, but a sharp sensation of despair fills you when you try to contemplate the decision.
"I'm going to open a Gap for the PRT to get the jump on Hess." Taylor says, breaking you from your beffudlement and drawing your eyes towards her. She doesn't look happy.
"Isn't that... good? They'll arrest her and everything." You put forth.
"I don't care about Shadow Stalker, or Predator or whatever the hell she's calling herself now. I care that they're going to be attacking the Teeth right afterwards, and I can't do anything about it." She says bitterly, taking you back slightly.
"Master she's a monster, she-" You start, using a slightly more accusatory tone than you probably intend to.
"I know. And I do hate her. But she doesn't matter. She's nothing. No one. Even if the PRT never catch her, she's screwed. She can never go to school. Never graduate. Never have a job, a family, or any meaningful relationship with anyone who isn't just as screwed as she is, which means her entire life, it's temporary. She's barely better off than your average homeless person, worse even, because she insists she's a 'hero' so she'll never even have a villain team to join. She's exactly as alone and useless as she used to think I was. Getting caught would honestly be better for her. At least she'll get out of juve eventually." Taylor says, not so much angry as passingly satisfied. You suspect that little speech of hers was for herself as much as you, and was mostly just your Master sorting through her own thoughts on the matter.
"Emma-" You start, mildly curious as to if your Master's opinions on her once friend are the same, only to be floored by a sudden outpouring of hatred, followed quickly by your Master slicing open a Gap and stepping through it as though you hadn't spoken.
Oh, good. You were worried your Master had forgiven them all or something.
It is at about this moment, that the phone begins to ring downstairs. You glance nonplussed at the Gap your Master is still on the other side of, and then shrug, falling through the floor to land in the downstairs hallway, where you step over to the phone and pick it up.
"Hello?" You say hesitantly, having not really had opportunity to really need a phone before, and more importantly, having an Emulation that is accustomed to an entire different form of long distance telecommunication.
"Good Evening," A slightly nasally, voice says to you in what honestly to you sounds like someone trying their absolute best to fake sounding suave.
"Is Nexus around? I've got a business proposition." The voice continues. Again, the voice hovers between an annoyingly nasally tone and not quite smooth, like a terrible James Bond impersonation.
"She's unavailable. I'm her Projection though, so I can pass anything you want along." You say, at least passingly familiar with your Master's fame. You assume this guy is going to ask her to be on a billboard or commercial or something, which might be a nice way to rub her newfound fame in Emma's-
"I have it on good authority that she can bring Parahuman's back from the dead. That about right?" The voice says, stopping you cold. Who- the only people that are supposed to know about this are the local Protectorate. Not even the rank and file. Just the heroes. So how the hell...?
[May I?] Ozma cuts in just as you are beginning to panic as to a reply, flooding you with relief even if the vaguely oily sensation you get from the swap is unpleasant.
"Might I ask who's speaking?" Ozma asks in a much more steady tone than your own.
"I'm a bit of a traveller, just got into town. I'm sure we can come to arrangement if you'll-" The man on the other end of the line says eagerly.
"Young man, regardless of what you may have heard, life is sacred - there is no mysterious power that will allow you to return it from death. I'm sorry for your loss." Ozma says with an air of genuine regret in his tone. The other end of the line is curiously quiet for a second before speaking again.
"So it's like that then huh?" The speaker says bitterly.
"Apologies. If I could help you, I promise you - I would. I've lost far too many people in my time not to understand the temptation to seek such answers." Your mouth says, causing you to frown.
[Tone it down. I'm like a month old.] You point out, causing Ozpin to frown but nod fractionally with your head in response.
"...Have it your way then." The person on the other end of the line says with a drawn out sigh and a voice filled with such exhaustion that it is almost palpable to you.
Then he hangs up, and Ozma spends a few seconds staring at the phone for a second before switching back with you.
"You... couldn't figure out what to do with it, could you." Your droll at him as you place the phone back on the receiver.
[I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.] Ozma says nonchalantly, drawing a snort from you.
With that done, you trundle back up the stairs just in time to see your Master step back through the Gap with a stormy expression on her face.
"Is everything okay?" You ask, rushing over to her, Long Memory at the ready.
"No. I let them know I'd like Miss Militia and Vista to report to the Heap tommorow. I also met Sophia's partner. The Trump? She had red hair. They're hoping she can shut the Butcher down for good." Your Master scowls.
"But they were going to arrest her!" You blurt out in dismay and anger.
"They did. They don't have anything to arrest 'Switchblade' for though. Stupid fucking name." Your Master grumbles, not bothering to get changed as she kicks her shoes off right in the middle of her room and falls into bed, letting her legs dangle over the side. For a second, you debate mentioning the phone call you just got, but decide against it. You'll bring it up with the Director later. For now, you carefully shuck off your coat and boots, and step over to sit in the bed next to Taylor, who rolls over to press her forehead into your side and swing an arm around your mid section, dragging you onto your back.
"Hey, you won't leave me right? If I lose my powers because of Hatchetface or go crazy because of the Simurgh or something - you'll come back for me right?" Your Master mutters into your side.
And suddenly, you do know what you would choose between the cycle and your Master if forced to choose between the two. Even if you know that the cycle is far too long normally for that to even come up.
"Yeah. Even if I have to fight the entire world." You say, meaning every word. She squeezes you slightly in response.
"Thanks. Love you, Emmy." She replies.
"Love you too, Taylor." You answer tenderly, for once not bothered by the contact with her as much as comforted.