Current Energy: 9
Current Training: Lesser Magic Usage (5/10) thanks for this Omake Bonus go to Demensional Wonderer
Saturday, February 5th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
Your Master, possibly as a side effect of expending so much of her power the day before, wakes up late.
Now, when you say 'late' you really don't mean much. Your Master has some bizarre standards when it comes to her scheduling, and so, when she snorts and groggily flops awake at precisely eleven minutes past six, you aren't particularly bothered by it.
She, however...
"Ugh. I feel like I got run over by a bus. Never let me do that again." She complains, blinking sleep out of her eyes for perhaps the first time in weeks. Compared to the way she typically bolts awake and immediately begins to move about, this sleep addled version of your Master is almost kind of cute.
Not that you would ever say that to her face.
"You don't exactly listen to me when I make suggestions." You point out, only... slightly heatedly. Taylor winces at the accusation then smiles sheepishly at you.
"Sorry. I just - I'm the only person who knows anything about all this magic stuff you know? I can't ask anyone else for help, not unless your next guy is Merlin or something." She explains, then pauses.
"...Can you do Merlin?" She asks.
""Sentient Vending Machine."" You remind her, and are surprised when she speaks the words at the exact same time as you, as if having expected them.
"Yeah, yeah. The Multiverse is vast and terrifying blah blah." She grumps at you, causing you to narrow your eyes at her.
"Why yes Master, I do enjoy my entire purpose for existing being belittled." You say snidely. It's gotten a lot easier to be snippy with your Master recently. Part of that might be your Emulations dislike of being looked down on, or the mere fact that you are, for all intents and purposes, experiencing your very own teenage rebellion through him, but once you get past all the hormones and teasing, it's easy to treat Taylor less like your reason for existing, and more like a particularly precocious sibling.
And siblings, well - they argue. A lot, actually.
"That's not what I meant!" She wails, throwing her arms in the air in exasperation, then leaning over and pulling you into a tight hug.
"I- I know I don't always do the smart thing. And I know that you put up with a lot for me. Really. I'm sorry I didn't listen. I'll try to be more mindful." She says quickly, squeezing you tightly. You frown up at her, which must look positively silly given your silken green pyjamas and sleeping cap.
"I just don't want you to get hurt." You admit freely.
"Well, I don't think it's possible to completely avoid all risk. Behemoth could walk into town today and I'm not sure what I could do to stop him - but I wouldn't do nothing." She chides you.
"I'd turn into something bigger and eat him." You say resolutely. Were you supposed to be able to turn into anything larger than your average car? No, absolutely not. That would have been one of the first limitations placed on you by Eden as she landed, assuming you were even allowed into circulation in the first place - which you usually weren't. But until you make a connection with the Warrior or Thinker hubs, you doubt either of them will notice your slight insubordination. This cycle has certainly been none standard as far as progress updates and regular communication go, after all.
"Sure you would." Taylor chuckles teasingly, poking you in the cheek with one finger and smooshing it around like you were some kind of baby.
"Taylooor." You complain at the treatment. This doesn't really have any other effect than causing her to start tickling you with small jabs here and there as you try - and fail - to break her grapple on you.
[On the topic of Merlin. I might be of some assistance.] Ozma cuts in, causing your smile to fade slightly.
Annoyingly, you realize that the old man is probably correct. You're fairly certain that he is the Merlin equivalent of his home world. So, with a sigh and a wistful look at your Master, you politely switch places with Ozma.
"Miss Hebert, I believe-" He begins, only to be cut off as Taylor's eyebrows shoot up and she leans away from you, lifting you bodily from the bed and dropping you off its side like a bag of refuse.
"...Was that necessary?" Ozma asks from his position on the ground.
"Aren't you like, a billion years old? And you were in my bed? With me?" She points out, shivering slightly.
"I fail to see the difference between myself and Oscar. It isn't as though we have suddenly aged appreciably." Ozma notes in some mild annoyance, carefully sitting up with as much dignity as it's possible to have in ones pajamas.
"Emmy. He's Emmy. And you're not." Taylor says flatly, sliding out of the bed herself and pulling a set of clothes out of her dresser.
"Be that as it may. I happen to be fairly accomplished in the use of Magic, if I might offer my services." Ozma explains patiently, intangibly stepping out of your sleep wear and manifesting your usual attire instead.
"Cool. I'll see you downstairs." Taylor answers pointedly, glancing from you to her clothing and back again.
[She wants you to leave the room.] You explain in exasperation.
"I am aware of that, but we have never before needed to-" He begins to argue.
[Just... just do it.] You sigh. You get the impression that Ozma was expecting to be treated the same as well, you. Which, while amusing, isn't likely to be the case.
"As you wish." He says tersely, slipping through the floor and taking a patient seat in the living room to await your Master. She comes downstairs dressed in well fitted black sweater and jeans. Close enough to her preferred clothing style of 'vagabond' for comfort, but fitted well enough to exaggerate her natural grace in motion. You're sure Taylor doesn't really realize it, but the sheer amount of martial arts training crammed into her head causes her to walk around with the kind of casual strut one might expect from a runway model.
You are more aware of this than most, because unlike so many other offences at school that you are capable of cracking down on, bludgeoning teenage boys who are merely talking about her isn't within your purview.
"So. Magic?" She says curiously as she takes a seat in a nearby recliner - a far cry from the typical closeness she displays when the two of you are home alone.
"Ah, yes. Magic. Where I come from... came from, Magic was a gift from the Gods, accessible to everyone." Ozma begins to explain, his expression and tone becoming pensive as he speaks on his far distant past.
Saturday, February 5th, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
You've never before been quite so bored of a particular series of myths and legends. You can't quite say that you disliked hearing about Ozma's dubious history, and the history of the people that walked Remnant before the current age. But as far as practical applications go, there was nearly no explanation to be had that morning.
Sure, Taylor was fairly interested and listened to the stories with rapt attention, but you doubt it was lost on her that roughly eighty percent of what was said was to the effect of 'you have to be responsible with magic, don't take it for granted'.
Needless to say, you found the entire affair fairly boring. Not that your current situation is much better.
"But why is she blond." Victoria asks you for the seventh time since arriving at the Heap that day to make a body for her mortality challenged aunt.
"I... don't know? I can't even see her. You still have the thing." You say, pointing at the shoulder of Victoria's costume with one hand to indicate the elaborate script filling out the loose piece of notebook paper still stuck to it.
It's early afternoon, and your Master had begrudgingly deigned to leave home that day in order to get Fleur's resurrection over with. She was planning on doing it regardless, but had wanted to do it later in the day, as she was still tired from the previous days exertions. Vicky, however, had other plans, showing up at your home in the morning with her ghostly aunt in tow.
Her plan, apparently, was to have Fleur up and about in time to bring her to see her mother during her lunch hour.
"She probably fucked something up somehow." another voice grumbled from nearby.
Oh, and also, Amy was here. You aren't sure why you didn't expect that. But there it was.
"I'm sorry if my Master's powers over life and death don't meet your exacting standards." You snipe at her in annoyance. You aren't quite so murderous or maniacal as any of your previous emulations, but the girl's continued dislike of your Master just irks you for some reason.
"Hey, I work in a hospital, friends of the patient are allowed to complain." She shoots back.
"No wonder you're so miserable." You counter.
"Say's the sentient muppet." She fires back.
"Jesus Amy just kiss and get it out of your system why don't you," Vicky says, causing both of you to turn baleful stares on the blond.
"What? You usually just ignore people that annoy you but when you're around Nexus you never shut up." She adds after a second, only half paying attention to you or her sister as she watches your Master carefully directing Danny and Trainwreck about the room you are in, deep in the bowels of the Heap at the end of what you suppose could politely be described as a service tunnel. The two men are shifting about pillars of rusted metal that Trainwreck had quickly erected for your Master upon her request, moving them inches at a time to match your Master's vision of the room perfectly.
She says it's for better Feng Shui. You suspect she might just be enjoying bossing them around.
"...You suck." Amy says after a second, turning away from the both of you and not specifying which one of you she was talking to in the first place. You resist the urge to stick your tongue out at her as Trainwreck and Danny finish placing the last metal rod, each one covered in warding talismans to mirror the setup in the PRT building.
With the pillars in place, it takes very little time at all for your Master to tie a rope to each of them, clearly delineating what is inside and what is outside the barrier.
As this is your third such experiencing of this event, you aren't particularly blown away when she goes through all the usual motions, is accompanied by all the usual flashing lights, and finishes the ritual by stepping away from a very confused looking naked blond woman.
The watching Dallons however...
"I- I didn't think-" Amy blurts out stupidly.
"Aunt Jess!" Vicky yells, darting forward to scoop the confused woman up into a hug and spinning her around like a particularly large teddy bear.
"Vicky! You're so big now!" Fleur laughs after a second to acclimate to things, hugging the girl back. The pair look similar enough for it to be uncanny.
"Um, shouldn't you be more worried about-" You begin to say, averting your eyes from the naked woman and finding Amy and Trainwreck staring intently at the sight infront of them, even as Danny stoically stares at a wall with a look of consternation on his face.
"Sssh. Lemme have this." Trainwreck whispers to you.
"Amy?" You ask, ignoring your larger team mate even as Taylor snorts and flicks a hand in his direction, throwing her notepad at his head.
"Mm?" She answers you distractedly.
"Your aunt? Is naked?" You say in exasperation. The New Wave healer blinks once, then turns away hurriedly, reaching into her backpack for a set of clothes your Master had instructed the pair to bring with them.
"So why are you blond now?" Vicky asks sometime later as you give Fleur a quick tour of the Heap as she acclimates to having a body again.
"...We're all blond Vicky." Fleur notes with a confused look.
"...No, but I mean, Uncle Mike was blond but you always had black hair." She says hesitantly.
"I...-" Fleur says than stops, her eyes dilating like a cats.
"Jess?" Amy says quickly shuffling to the front of the group to poke her in the neck with one finger.
"Is she okay?" Danny says walking forward.
"No. She's in shock. Did you do something wrong or-" Amy grinds out, immediately turning to your Master accusingly.
"I- remember my whole life, and Mike, but if I don't focus on it, it's like... like I remember differently. If I don't think about it I can remember growing up with Carol and Sara, but I can't remember anything... specific... and when I focus on it I can tell that that's wrong, but it's still what I remember." Fleur whispers distractedly. She seems less afraid or angry, and more lost than anything else.
"Quick check, how many people here knew she wasn't a Dallon before this?" Taylor asks suddenly, then nods thoughtfully when only Amy and Vicky lift their hands, Amy with a scowl and Vicky in obvious distress.
"If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say many people passing the spot Fleur died at considered her 'Part of New Wave' and nothing more. Everyone knows about Fleur, but I don't think anyone but you guys actually knew anything about 'Jess'" Your Master explains with a frown.
"How does that make any sense?" Amy grumbles, removing her hand from Fleur when it becomes clear she isn't going to keel over and die on the spot.
"Some landbound spirits become kind of like gods when they get enough prayer or worship. Little 'g' gods I mean." Taylor explains with a shrug. Fleur snorts at this.
"Can you cut the Myrrdin crap for one second and-" Amy begins to spit, before Fleur leans over and pulls her in a one armed hug.
"Hey, relax okay? I'd be dead without her." She chides.
An awkward silence reigns in the hall for a while after that, with Trainwreck eventually getting bored and wandering off to continue with his usual projects and tinkering. Then Fleur speaks again.
"Sooo, what did I miss? Are you two seeing anyone? Are they nice? How's school?" Fleur begins to rattle off, pointedly not letting go of Amy when she started to uncomfortably paw at the arm she had wrapped around her shoulders.
Vicky, being the type of person she is, takes Fleur's questions as an immediate invitation to tell you far more about her relationship than you actually wanted to know, and judging by the sour look on Amy's face - far more than she wants to know too.
Saturday, February 5th, 2011
Uptown, Brockton Bay
Carol Dallon - Amy and Vicky's mother, better known in the city as the hero Brandish, worked in the part of town that could nominally be described as 'nice'. Brockton Bay didn't have an abundance of such areas, but what few it did have were heavily built up. Skyscrapers, fronts for tons of high-end businesses, and offices for every kind of professional you might imagine abounded here. It occurred to you that your Master could technically afford to live in this area now, but that she would probably never abandon the home she grew up in. Not unless she was forced to.
Presently, you were waiting for Carol at a nearby cafe, having managed to get here in time to grab a table and for Vicky to message the elder Dallon with the good news.
You assumed anyway. The look of put upon tolerance on the woman's face as she stepped into the cafe to find her daughters sitting with two other people - Taylor and Fleur - indicated that Vicky might not have been entirely forthcoming on the topic of this meeting.
"Good afternoon Nexus. If you need legal representation I would happy to meet you in my office - you didn't need to go through Vicky like this." She says diplomatically as she sits down, smoothing her black pencil skirt out and subtly adjusting cuffs on the suit she was wearing.
"Oh, I'm not actually here for that. Vicky-" Taylor begins to explain, obviously struggling not to fall into her stepford smiler routine in the face of the other woman's brusque business like attitude.
"Mom! Jess is back! Remember I told you what Dean said about-" She half shouts, drawing more attention than you are entirely comfortable with, despite the relative lack of people in the cafe with you.
"Vicky. Aura. And what's this about Jess?" Carol says, smoothly speaking over her daughter.
"Hey, Carol. Nice to see you're as unflappable as ever." Jess says sarcastically, making a tiny wave towards the other woman.
Instead of being happy or curious or anything else, which is what you might expect of someone getting a dead family member back, Carol's head immediately snaps to Taylor, who she glares at with a furious intensity.
"Do you think this is funny? That I would appreciate this?" She hisses at your Master who leans away in surprise at the sudden aggressive response.
"Mom, seriously it's Jess. We can even confirm with PRT. Amy tell her!" Vicky says excitedly, ignoring her mother's obvious change in mood.
"I actually can't confirm who she is," Amy says, shrinking in on herself. "I didn't have my powers back then so I wouldn't know..." She trails off, swallowing a lump in her throat and looking anywhere but at Vicky. Carol apparently takes this in exactly the wrong way, and begins to tear into Jess verbally.
"Just because my daughter is well meaning does not mean I appreciate these attempts to insert yourself into my family." She hisses, withdrawing her phone and standing up.
"Mom?" Vicky says, floating up and around to get the womans attention.
"Mom who are you-" Vicky asks.
"Hello? I believe I am being followed by a Stranger who-" She begins to explain to whoever is on the other end of the line - presumably a PRT officer.
"What was in the closet Carol." Jess says suddenly, causing everyone else to stop and stare, Vicky and Amy with confusion, Taylor in curiosity, and Carol in... you guess 'shock' and possibly 'terror' might be the words to use.
"You..." Carol says, expression turning thunderous.
"Yeah, it's almost like, I was there right? Crazy." She drawls. She's putting up a strong front but from where you're standing it's clear that Jess is just as distressed by this turn of events as Carol, her hands tightly gripping her knees, knuckles white with strain.
It's only for a second, but you swear you can see Jess' eyes dart to Amy for a moment, something the younger girl doesn't notice in her attempts to collapse in on herself, hiding from the argument with a resigned familiarity.
Eventually, Carol hangs up the phone call she was in the middle of, and presses her lips in to a thin line, her face an otherwise tight mask giving no insight into whats going on in her head.
"My lunch is short. I- we'll talk later." She spits out, almost like the words cause her physical pain, before striding out of the cafe, completely ignoring the gobsmacked looks on Vicky and Amy's faces.
"Did... you just make Mom run away?" Vicky mumbles in awe.
"Honestly? No. She's going to spend the entire time between now and when next we meet coming up with reasons I'm lying and convincing herself they're true. Maybe I should talk to Sarah." Jess says tiredly, her posture loosening dejectedly.
'Should we be here for this? This feels private.' Your Master notes awkwardly, having mostly just watched the entire exchange passively without getting involved.
'Prooobably not.' You reply.
"Ah well. I'm just gonna... get out of your hair. Do you want me to drop you off at your house Vicky?" Taylor speaks up, drawing everyone's attention.
"Sure. Uh, sorry about... you know. Mom can be..." Vicky trails off hesitantly.
"Being a bitch is Carol's default defence mechanism," Jess explains bluntly, earning an unwilling snort from Amy and a suspicious look from Vicky.
"She's not that bad..." Vicky tries to defend her mother, only to have Amy and Jess turn disbelieving looks on her.
"Right. Uh, just... come to the Heap if you need anything I guess Jess. Aftercare and all that." Taylor says taking an awkward step away from the conversation, obviously not wanting to spend any significant period of time insulting her friend's mother.
Then she swings her hand lazily outward, creating a Gap next to the table. As an afterthought, the reaches into it and withdraws a few bills, which she leaves on the nearby counter.
"You keep money in that thing?" Jess asks, obviously in an attempt to change topics.
"Money, bad guys, my keys. Whatever needs storing." Taylor explains, sticking her tongue out in jest.
"...Huh. I should tell Mike about that. He'd think it's hilarious." Jess grins at you.
Amy and Vicky both go silent at that, looking away, and Jess' expression quickly pales.
Your Master, deciding that this is her limit for drama today, quickly makes a Gap of her own, and steps out of the cafe, leaving the younger members of New Wave to gently explain to Fleur that her Boyfriend is now married and has kids.
Saturday, February 5th, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
When you and your Master get back to the Heap, in your customary position in the garage, it is to find Trainwreck angrily stomping about and yelling at people. Dozens of them, in fact, all of whom are ignoring him as they tramp through the garage and into the Castle proper.
"What the fuck! Stop! Desist! Piss the fuck off! Holy shit, being a good guy sucks!" Trainwreck complains as he loudly stomps after the men in workers outfits as they carry a variety of things through the castle. Then Trainwreck actually notices you.
"Boss! These fucking chodes said you gave 'em permission to turn my fucking Garage into a mall! Tell them to fuck off!" He yells angrily, stomping over to stop infront of your Master.
"Uh... I kind of did?" She answers carefully.
"The fuck!? WHY!?" He bellows, swinging his arms outward in dismay and nearly - possibly intentionally - clobbering a passing workman. Taylor looks around for a second, then frowns, and gestures for Trainwreck to follow her as she walks further into the castle - it's halls and doorways very clearly sized for someone of his bulk. You pass Oliver on the way, the boy having apparently somehow ended up helping the workers as if he were one of them.
"Okay so, you know how I want to be able to pay you guys?" Taylor explains placidly as she leads him towards what is nominally the 'throne' room, where the Wardstone is kept.
"Yeah, that's why you got the gig rezzing stiffs for the PRT." He points out.
"Yeah well, I can't always rely on that. And the city could really use some new cashflow, so - mall." She finishes lamely.
"That suuucks. Am I gonna have to stop swearing? We gonna put little windows in so the plebs can look at me tinker like a zoo animal?" Trainwreck snarls, seeming actually angry about having his space taken from him.
"What? No! Look, I'm gonna set things up so that only some parts of the Castle are accessible to the public. The rest is still all ours okay? They probably just needed to come through your garage to get some of the bigger stuff inside. I promise I'll stop it from happening again okay?" Taylor says as she enters the throne room and takes a seat in front of the Wardstone.
"...I still don't like it." Trainwreck grumbles as he steps into the room. Your Master does... something... with the Wardstone, that causes a large steel chair to rise from the ground for him to sit on.
"Do you want me to make it up to you?" Taylor offers hesitantly.
"I dunno, can you give me my dick back?" Trainwreck says sarcastically.
"Without! Ripping my soul out." He adds when it looks like Taylor is going to take him on his offer.
"...No?" She says finally.
"Thought so. Look as long as I don't gotta do any dog and pony show crap I'm fine. Just don't make me talk to anyone." He grumbles, standing to leave.
"Hey Wreck?" Taylor asks hesitantly before he can leave.
"What?" He shoots back in annoyance, though not nearly as irate as he was before.
"I just, don't want you to have to fight. Is that... bad?" She asks, biting her lip in thought. Trainwreck's expression softens, and he sighs, turning around.
"Always with the innocent all-loving hero shit with you." He mumbles under his breath. Then aloud;
"Boss, I appreciate you. I do. If I weren't with you I'd be living in a junkyard beating up guys for cash. But... come on. Look at me. I aint made for this shit." He says with a shrug.
"Wreck..." Taylor chides him slightly. You love your Master, you really do, but she has something of a rose tinted image of her teammates. Despite Trainwrecks rampant cussing, obviously surly behaviour, and only barely heroic demeanour, she is unlikely to ever stop believing in him. Loyalty and trust are too important to her for anything else. And you suspect Trainwreck knows that too. Because despite his complaints to the contrary, his power suits have begun to take on an increasingly clean appearance to them as time goes on. As if the man is doing his utmost to be capable of standing alongside Nexus and Aspirant without having to show shame.
The pressure must be unbearable.
"A-anyway. I got shit to do. Keep the goons out of my stuff." Trainwreck says quickly when it looks like the conversation might turn towards your Master unnecessarily puffing up his ego to make him feel better.
Then he shuffles out of the room and stomps off, decisively ending the conversation with a slight blush to his face.
"I wish I could do more for the guy." Taylor says quietly as the sound of his tremendous foot steps vanishes up the hall.
"Someday Master." You console her.
You hope anyway. You have no idea what's up with all the deformed triggers this cycle but one thing is for sure;
It can't possibly be something good.
Saturday, February 5th, 2011
PRT Headquarters, Brockton Bay
Your last stop for the day is apparently the PRT headquarters. Deciding that she isn't really in the mood to see Piggot today, your Master makes the executive decision to just find Armsmaster, so she can quickly pass the Talisman' she made on before heading home for the day.
Your Master, of course, has no idea if they'll actually work. The only thing she's positive they will do is repel ghosts. She had already added that particular feature to the Heap while she was experimenting with it, presumably to keep the Butcher off the grounds in the event that she managed to bypass the other defences that were already in place.
As is typical of your Master's trips to the building, the receptionist has already grown well accustomed to her, and buzzes her into the main building with a minimum of fuss, only taking the time to ensure that Armsmaster was actually present before allowing her in.
The first sign you have that something abnormal is happening, is the fact that the door to Armsmaster's lab is standing open, rather than locked down as one might expect from the anal retentive tinker.
The second is that once your Master tentatively steps in, Armsmaster latches onto her like a life preserver in a sinking ship.
"Good evening Nexus." He says quickly, rising from a seated position and taking three large steps towards Taylor before turning to the right to speak to a woman who had been leaning against the wall, just out of your line of sight.
"We will inform you if Ravager surfaces. So far we have yet to receive indication she's in town, now if you'll excuse me, Nexus is an important partner of the PRT and requires-" He begins to rattle off, only to be spoken over by the woman in the mouse themed knights outfit.
"Oh hey! You're Skadoosh girl!" The unknown cape says, flamboyantly drawing her sword and lifting her pinky finger into the air to mimic your Master's most recorded moment of heroism.
"Uh." Taylor splutters, blinking at the other woman.
"Mouse, this really isn't-" Armsmaster tries to cut in with a pained expression, obviously trying to chivy your Master out of the room.
"Hey have you ever considered a work study? I feel like you and me could get along. Guys like Armsy are all by the book. There's no banter or posturing to it. It's boring." She says, then pauses, leaning around to pointedly stare at Armsmasters ass.
"Well, a little posturing." She corrects herself smugly when Armsmaster turns slightly to block her line of sight.
"I, uh, I'm sorry, who exactly-" Taylor begins.
"Don't." Armsmaster groans.
"Allow me to introduce myself!" The mouse theme cape says, striking another pose and bellowing the statement like a saturday morning cartoon.
"When the cat's away the mice shall play! When there is no where to turn to, I shall be there! The mouse with the most! Mouse Protector!" She bellows, flourishing her sword flamboyantly, before falling into a relaxed stance and smirking at Armsmasters obvious distress.
"Plus, we're both badass babe independents with swords. I've watched that Skadoosh video like fifteen times." Mouse Protector adds when it becomes clear your Master is to blind sided by her sudden announcement to say anything.
"I- don't know if 'babe' is the right word." She eventually stutters out, finishing her first sentence since arriving here.
"We can work on that. Come ooooon. You have a catch phrase and everything!" She bemoans.
"...Did you have something you wanted to bring me, Nexus?" Armsmaster finally asks, giving up on escaping and just deciding the ignore Mouse Protector for the moment.
Taylor glances between Mouse Protector and Armsmaster for a second before fully stepping into the room after him, turning to face him and away from Mouse Protector - who you stay facing to make sure she has an eye on her.
"Right. I brought these. They should partially repel the Butcher away from anyone holding one. They won't help if she decides to shoot at you from range though." She says, reaching out and withdrawing a stack of paper talisman that she hurriedly hands to Armsmaster, who examines them curiously.
"What's the mechanism?" He asks curiously, turning them over and frowning as his visor lights up to examine them. "I can see there's some form of harmless radiation coming from them, consistent with your other work."
"I noticed I could see a bunch of-" Taylor pauses to look over her shoulder at Mouse Protector before turning back to Armsmaster.
"- the work I've been doing for the PRT recently? I can see all the previous Butchers. Those should repel them. I don't actually know if it will stop anyone from being possessed, or if it will make the actual Butcher less crazy but I wanted to do something." She admits.
"Hm. I'll see to having all of us outfitted. Thank you." Armsmaster says distractedly.
"What, just like that? No month long tests or detailed investigations?" Taylor asks dryly.
"That's unnecessary. You're a vetted PRT contractor at this point. Suspecting every piece of work you provide for us will only serve to alienate you and reduce our own efficiency." Armsmaster explains. Your Master feels a spike of happiness at that, though it quickly fades when Mouse Protector slings an arm around her shoulders and leans in to speak boisterously with her.
"So, I hear you've got a whole castle set up for us independent types to crash at." She says suggestively. Predictably, Armsmaster perks up at this, turning towards the pair of you.
"Wouldn't it make more sense to stay with the PRT? If they're helping you find someone?" Your Master asks hesitantly.
"We'll compensate you for her stay," Armsmaster says, just a bit too quickly. Taylor sends him a flat look that he ignores.
"Oh, I can see it now, the team-up of the century!" Mouse yells happily.
You aren't actually positive, but you're pretty sure you can see your Master's will to live drain from her body as Mouse Protector continues to espouse the tactical benefits of mouthing off in combat.