Current Energy: 3
Current Training: Ozma Sub-Emulation (5/10) This Omake bonus in thanks to Cosmic
Wednesday, February 9th, 2011
???, ???
Your Master awakens, and for the first time in a long time, it is not in her bed. Nor are you physically, present. In response to this, she is... predictably, not happy.
"Emmy?!" She blurts out, snapping awake in her usual characteristic way to find that she is somehow seated in a large high backed chair, arms resting on a wide technologically advanced looking desk. Those are the only things in the wide, circular room. Behind the desk, perfectly placed so that the occupant of the chair can swivel around to look out of it, is a large window, that looks out onto the grounds of what of an old stone castle. Directly opposite the window is the door of an elevator. The room itself is largely barren of effects or even really signs of use. It is entirely too large for what is in it, and yet somehow the dim orange lighting and sombre atmosphere seem well suited to the place.
Taylor, being, well, Taylor, barely takes a second to appreciate or parse any of this. Instead, she withdraws her sword and jumps on the desk like a neanderthal seeking the high ground.
"Really? You lived in a Wizard's tower? You built a Wizard's tower into your school?" You ask incredulously from off to one side of the room, easily visible despite your Master's inability to see you.
"I am allowed some indulgences. When I was king this was my castle. It's only fitting that I should keep my tower after having declared it a school." Ozma answers smugly from where he is standing next to you, which is... weird. Seeing him physically, that is. Despite your tendency to dismiss, ignore, or only partially listen to the man, seeing him in person provides a certain mystique to him. A palpable aura of... damn it. A palpable aura of wizardly-ness surrounds the tall white-haired gentleman standing next to you.
"Now, if you would do something about that? She looks as though she is about to begin tearing the walls away in search of you." He adds after a moment, pointing at Taylor without removing his hands from Long Memory, crossed as they are over the head of the cane resting on the ground in front of him.
"Right, right." You say begrudgingly. Pausing for a second, you focus hard. Even for a Shard of your calibre, what you are currently doing is reaching right up against the border of what you can reasonably manage. This isn't just faking one person. It's not even faking a few. You are, for all intents and purposes, expending massive amounts of personal power in order to convincingly fake this castle, the city surrounding it, and the majority of its inhabitants. From a certain point of view, that level of detail is entirely unnecessary. In an ideal scenario, Taylor would take the memory you have cribbed from Ozma, and then allow it to play it's course, like a highly interactive movie. The intent isn't to make a sandbox. It's to help massage your Master's poor brain into a shape capable of handling a second instance of an entire human being without disrupting any of her own personality or memories. Unfortunately, your professional pride has been set off here, such as it were. You're Multiversal Emulator. You have kids who can convincingly do shit like this. What if Taylor decides to begin a reign of terror in the city? It just wouldn't do for all the nameless nobodies running about the place to behave anything less than one hundred percent accurately.
You don't do things 'partially'.
All that being said, you very carefully, rearrange the room so that a letter floats delicately into view in front of Taylor, which is good, because she was just about to rip open the elevator doors and jump down the shaft.
With a speed and alacrity that honestly terrifies you sometimes, Taylor snatches the letter out of the air, pulling it open and reading it aloud.
"Training simulation. Play along." She reads aloud before frowning and speaking to the room.
"Some warning would have been nice!" She calls out. Ozma doesn't say anything. He doesn't even make any noise. But you swear to all that is good that you can hear his smug look at you.
"Shut up." You snipe at him, to which he doesn't reply. So saying, you begin the scenario, and suddenly, the elevator lights up. Taylor - obviously not knowing what kind of training this is, eyes the indicator on the door warily, sword held carefully at the ready as it stops on the floor she is on, then opens, disgorging a statuesque blond woman in - and you can't stress this enough - a naughty librarian outfit.
""Really?"" You say at the same time as your Master, which just goes to show that she and you were made for each other.
"When your world plays host to a world war for the purposes of earning freedom of expression, I might choose to listen to your opinion on such topics." Ozma answers flatly.
"Excuse me?" The blond woman says, slightly affronted, eyes darting to your Master's sword in obvious confusion.
"I- nothing. Hello." Taylor answers, exhaling from her nose and slowly relaxing, her sword vanishing from sight.
"Good... morning, Headmaster. The new students are gathering in the auditorium. We'll need to hurry if we want to make initiation on time." The Woman says, quickly regaining her bearing and gesturing for your Master to follow her into the elevator, which she does so hesitantly. You and Ozma quickly move to follow.
"Initiation?" Taylor asks quizzically. You frown at this, realizing that your Master lacks sufficient background and that spiking that information into her brown would run counter to the point of the exercise. So instead, you tweak your emulation of the woman slightly.
"Yes, Headmaster. The test all new students take before being put into teams. Do you remember my name is Glynda Goodwitch, or have you forgotten that too?" Goodwitch says sarcastically. Ozma raises an eyebrow at you but you merely shrug, this being the best you can reasonably manage on your current timeframe.
"Hm." She hums, obviously taking that information in, then suddenly blanching.
"So... I'm the Headmaster right?" She asks hesitantly.
"With all the paperwork that entails, yes." Goodwitch replies bluntly.
"And we're going to the Auditorium to see all the new students?" Taylor continues heedless of Goodwitchs growing annoyance.
"Yes." She repeats through grit teeth.
"...And I suppose I have to give a speech then?" Taylor finally asks weakly.
"Yes." Goodwitch repeats, the monosyllabic reply coming down like a conversational guillotine, causing Taylor to stop trying to ask questions, and instead, frantically stare off into the middle distance, as though she might be experiencing some form of a trauma-induced flashback. She maintains her thousand-yard stare for the entire remainder of the short trip, only stopping when she finds herself being ushered onto the stage alongside a whole host of colorful looking characters who's particulars don't interest you in the slightest.
"...Quite a lot of you aren't there." She mumbles, jolting slightly when her voice is amplified to fill the room full of chattering teenagers in attire so bright and colourful that it honestly looks like party store vomited on all of them. This has the unintended effect of causing the room full of kids to stop speaking amongst themselves, and then to dutifully turn to your Master with a sort of reverence. You can actually see your Master strain not to immediately curse at the turn of events. Her lips begin to form the words, and then she stops, sighing.
"Training." She mutters to herself, once more amplified for everyone else to hear.
"Training, is the difference between a warrior and a civilian." She continues on, this time clearly intending to be heard by all present. Looking up, she carefully brushes some of her long hair out of her face before continuing. A few of the students are nodding along to this, as though the statement makes sense to them.
"Duty, is the difference between a warrior, and a soldier." She says, carefully glancing around the room as she speaks, really examining each of the people watching her. At this, a few more of the crowd nod along.
"And Courage, is the difference between a solider, and a Hero." She finishes, pausing to consider.
"Many of you lack one or all of these traits. Some of you might have all of them. But ultimately, that is immaterial. You aren't here to be warriors, or soldiers, or even heros. You're here to learn how to kill monsters, and survive to keep killing monsters. You are here to learn to become-" She pauses, obviously trying to reach for the word, a word that you have used many times in reference to this world, but that holds no real meaning to your Master. Or at least, didn't, before this point. You can see her making connections almost as fast as she is speaking, her mind always just one step ahead of the point she is making.
Then, as the final connection settles into place, she speaks again, eliciting a roar of approval and cheering from the crowd beneath her.
"You are here to become Huntsmen."
Wednesday, February 9th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
"Guh?!?" Taylor squawks as you put a pin in the simulation, drawing her mind up out of the mental morass you had created and allowing her to awaken at her customary time of 'too damn early'.
"Good morning- hrk!" You gurgle from where you are standing next to the bed, only to have all the air rush out of your lungs as she reaches around your middle and hugs you hard enough that you are reasonably certain you would be paraplegic if you lacked your Aura.
"I hate waking up without you." Taylor pouts.
'I'm sorry! Also, I can't breath!' You screech mentally at her in response. Wouldn't that be a way to go. Hugged to death.
"Sorry. Some warning, next time please?" Taylor says sheepishly, before scowling at you.
"Um. That will... probably be happening for the next few days, at least." You admit, rubbing the back of your head and looking away as her eyes narrow on you.
"...Why?" She says pointedly.
"Trying to make room for a whole second person in your head is a lot of work." Your grouse. Taylor looks like she'd like to argue that point, but then frowns.
"...That's... fair. Still." She says in a huff.
"W-what's the plan for today?" You ask quickly, trying to change topics as Taylor hops out of bed and begins to dig around in her dresser for an outfit.
"Sit down with everyone, see what we did wrong, see what we can fix - you know, superhero team stuff." She says with a shrug.
"Ah... well. You should know that Jamie... you might need to talk to him. He had an adverse reaction to Oliver being wounded while under his protection." You state carefully.
"How adverse?" Taylor asks curiously, beginning to throw clothing onto the bed.
"I want to say 'murderous' but perhaps 'eldritch' is more appropriate." You admit, remembering the hellacious ball of teeth and muscle from last night.
"Did anyone actually die?" She asks worriedly, turning to look at you out of the corner of her eye as she speaks.
"Just some of Spree's clones, I think. He stopped before he hurt anybody." You explain, not wanting to oversell the apparent danger here. That would be a disservice to Aspirant if nothing else.
"I'll talk to him." Taylor says succinctly, not seeming altogether to concerned by anything you've described. You'd question it but, as has been pointed out to you many times by now, you don't tend to question your Master. Not in any capacity that could be described as anything more than superficial anyway.
Hence, you choose to change topics.
"So..." You say searching for something else to talk about.
"You think Dad's back in town yet?" Taylor asks, beating you to the punch.
"I- I actually don't know." You realize quickly, considering the matter.
"I guess you could call him?" You suggest.
"On what? He still doesn't have a cellphone." Taylor grumbles.
"You could... uh... magic a bird to go find him and bring back a letter?" You suggest - half in jest. Your Master, ever willing to surprise you, perks up at that, then quickly dashes to her bedroom window to pop it open.
"That's actually a really good idea! Why didn't I think of that?" She says to herself, sticking a hand out the window and concentrating for a few seconds. At first, nothing happens. Then, with alarming speed, a seagull dives out of the air to land on the windowsill, ignoring Taylor's outstretched hand - which is probably for the best. No telling where the beast has been.
"Because you live in a modern society?" You say quietly.
"I'm pretty much the Archmage of the Bay. I own a castle. I fight with a sword. This isn't that big a jump." Taylor points out with a smirk, before turning back to the bird and doing... something... magic to it before tying a piece of paper to its leg and letting it fly off.
"How exactly is it supposed to find your Dad?" You ask curiously.
"Threw a divination spell on it. It should always at least know what direction it has to go. Might have to circle around a bit near the end though. It's not that accurate." She explains, closing the window.
Then she pauses in consideration, eyeing you the way she tends to when she has just thought of something particularly outrageous without realizing it.
"Do you think I could coax the Heap into making me a Wizard Tower?" She asks.
You groan.
Wednesday, February 9th, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
"Hey uh, Boss?" Trainwreck asks as everyone gets seated.
"Mhm?" Taylor answers distractedly, fiddling as she is with the Wardstone in the 'Throne Room'.
"I know you got a whole, 'thing' with the fucking castle and all the magic and shit, but uh, ain't this a bit much?" He asks hesitantly, looking around at everyone else on the team for support in his assertion.
Your Master blinks and looks up from the Wardstone, taking in the sight before her. Shortly after arriving, she had begun to manipulate the room in order to produce a large round table, and had - following that feat - proceeded to grab over a dozen of the nicest chairs she could find from amongst the pile of them brought in by the Dockworkers to seat the thing with. The 'Throne' and Wardstone made up the head of said table, the large stone itself being partially merged into the thing. Around the table to either side of her, sat Parian, Trainwreck, Aspirant and Oliver, leaving over eight seats empty as they grew further from Taylor herself.
"...No?" Taylor half asks, her expression shifting to one of false innocence. You can feel her amused glee at someone even noticing her reference.
"It is a bit overdone," Parian adds carefully, folding her hands in her lap.
"I- I think it's... cooooool." Oliver says, trying for supportive and mostly just ending up sending unsure of himself. Aspirant doesn't really bother to speak, just staring pensively into the distance in a way you're sure is related to last night.
"Oh come on! It's not like I have a camera crew in here for me to show off to. I'm allowed to have hobbies!" Taylor complains, her facade breaking, following which, she starts to giggle.
"Come on! We have a castle! We can't have a castle and not even once make a knights of the round table reference!" She points out when it doesn't look like anyone else quite agrees with her.
"You get one, boss. Don't ask me to make you a tinker tech stone or some shit to shove your sword into." Trainwreck states in mock annoyance.
"I'll shove a sword in your stone." She responds playfully. Everyone at the table freezes at that, causing your Master to blink in surprise.
"Was- was that too much or-?" She says, beginning to panic.
"Yes! She did it! Baby's first dick joke!" Trainwreck yells triumphantly, lifting both arms in the air like a champion boxer. "Pay up fuckers!" He declares.
"You are a corruptive influence, and I'm going to be taking Taylor for a girls day out soon to combat it," Parian says with a haughty sniff, pulling a five dollar bill from within the folds of her dress and passing it to Trainwreck, quickly followed by Aspirant and Oliver doing the same.
"You too!?" Taylor complains, turning aghast towards the blonde boy.
"Um... it seemed like the thing to do?" He offers meekly.
"Traitor. Anyway!" Taylor hisses, before clapping her hands and exclaiming loudly.
"How were we yesterday?" She says bluntly.
"Eh. Most of the thugs weren't a problem. Feels like it woulda been easier to go in all together though. Just, find all the capes and hit em all at once, instead of splitting up." Trainwreck says with a shrug.
"I... don't wish to be rude, but I'd prefer not to be overly involved in too much combat. I'm not sure how much my opinion is worth. I would like to be informed of any further operations though." Parian admits, turning to examine Taylor as she speaks.
"I overestimated myself. It won't happen again." Aspirant states neutrally.
"Yeah, I know that one." Taylor consoles him, leaning forward to rest an elbow on the table and her chin in her palm.
"I... have trouble believing that." Aspirant responds.
"Stick around after the meeting, I'll show you," Taylor says mischievously, before turning to Oliver with a question in her eyes.
"I got shot and went down like a bitch." He says succinctly, then blushes as he realizes how crass that sounds, or rather, how Trainwreck it sounds.
"I- I mean- I used to play this game back in- back before-" He blurts out trying to explain himself.
"Don't worry about it. I get the point. So... you kind of need some support huh." Taylor muses aloud, then sighs.
"On a scale from one to ten, how do you feel about untested magical experimentation?" She says suddenly.
"...Scared?" Oliver says, blanching slightly.
"...Fair. Okay. Untested magical experimentation that will make you bulletproof. Mostly. Probably." She tries again.
"...Still pretty scared?" Oliver repeats.
"Oh. Nevermind then. Hm." Taylor says with a frown, tapping one finger on the Wardstone in thought.
"W-wait! I didn't say no!" Oliver blurts out.
"Oh, thank god. I worked super hard on this. Come here." Taylor says exhaling sharply, waving Oliver towards her, who slowly shuffles around the table to stand next to the throne.
"Do I need to like, kneel or something...?" He asks carefully.
"Maybe when you're older," Taylor says dryly, blinking and then scowling at Trainwreck when he starts cackling at her verbal slip. She ignores Oliver's bright red face as she continues on.
"No, sorry. Just stick your finger out over the stone." She instructs, and Oliver quickly does so.
"Let's see... I bestow this power on you, provided you follow these tenets; Defend those in need, Abide by the law, and be loyal to our cause." She states succinctly, flicking a finger in Oliver's direction and causing a thin cut on his finger that bleeds a single drop of blood onto the Wardstone, which begins to pulse in time to an unseen heartbeat.
"For it is in struggle that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become an engine of virtue and glory to rise above all, determined in life and unafraid of death. I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee." She recites - the chant slightly different than what you recall, although you choose not to mention it at this juncture.
Like a man who has just stuck his finger in a light socket, Oliver stiffens, then is suffused by a magenta glow that passes over him before fading, allowing his stiff posture to slacken.
"What the hell was that!?" He blurts out suddenly, snatching his hand back and looking around in dismay.
"Magic," Taylor answers with a shrug. It's not, but you get the impression she's going to get a lot of mileage out of lumping every esoteric thing she can do together under 'Magic'. You suppose that at the pace she acquires new abilities it serves as a good enough explanation for the average layman.
"That's not-" He starts to blurt out, obviously about to say 'real' but thinks better of it, his face going blank as Trainwreck laughs and Parian politely titters at him from behind one hand.
"No, go ahead. Tell me about how my powers work." Taylor says dryly, one eyebrow raised archly towards the boy who splutters stupidly before giving up and sitting back down in his chair with a noticeable slump in his posture.
"Thought so. Now! Your officially sort of bulletproof! Did you have any idea what you wanted to do for a costume or I dunno, a name? I realize we were calling you Oliver out in the field last night which seems unwise." Taylor says, leaning back in her throne smugly.
"I... honestly have no idea," Oliver says with a wince.
"Seriously? Nothing?" Taylor asks incredulously.
"Nope." He replies seriously, the 'p' sound popping as he says it. Pretty much immediately, the entire table begins to speak up, with everyone - including your Master - offering their opinion on what sort of theme and equipment Oliver should have.
Finally, after a great deal of arguing, the group mostly disperses to work on other things, leaving just your Master and Aspirant in the room together.
And you, but you're always present. Which... isn't as creepy as it sounds, you guess.
"You... wanted to talk to me." Jamie says with a grimace, obviously expecting a dressing down over the nights events.
"Yeah... how many ways do you think I have to kill you? Like, right now." Taylor asks suddenly out of the blue, causing the other boy - currently out of any combat form and merely looking like a normal teenager in clothes too big for him - to jerk backwards slightly in shock.
"Is that... relevant?" He asks gingerly.
"Totally. Go on, guess." Taylor says with a dismissive wave of the hand.
"Two... Three?" He answers slowly, eyes darting about the room as if seeking a trap. Taylor snorts.
"Try dozens. The second or... third? Power I ever got. Wanna know what it does?" She asks.
"Your aura? I had assumed it affected gravity somehow but-" Jamie begins to say, leaning in as the topic catches his interest.
"No, that was the first power I ever got. The third was a kind of combat precog power. Wanna know how it works?" She says dryly.
"I... assume by seeing the future? In combat?" Jamie states sarcastically.
"Not even close. I mean yeah, that too, I guess, but mostly, it tells me how to kill things. All the time. Everywhere. For everything. Every time I let my mind drift for a second, it's there in the back of my head, pointing out the quickest route to the nearest persons jugular, or the easiest point to stab through to disembowel them. It compounds with all my other powers terribly. I can't walk into a room with other capes with having a hundred ways to kill everyone in it drop into the back of my head. Stab, bludgeon, burn, blast. Just... constantly." Taylor answers blandly, causing Jamie's eyes pupils to become as wide as saucers as he takes in that information.
"But- you've never-" He splutters.
"Actually killed anyone? Yeah, I'm as surprised as you are, trust me." She says with a shrug.
"How... how do you resist it?" He asks hesitantly, looking apprehensive.
"I mostly don't. I just know deep down that listening to it won't help me achieve anything. I want to be a hero, so killing everyone I fight would be detrimental to that. I want to capture this criminal so he can go to trial, if I decapitate him, that can't happen. Stuff like that. Also, it's... sort of gross." She admits.
"So... logic then," Jamie says dejectedly.
"No, not at all. It's..." Taylor pauses to consider, tilting her head from left to right as though trying to roll a thought around in her head before speaking.
"It's a feeling I guess. I don't think it won't help. I know it. In here." She says, tapping her chest right where her heart should be.
"I... don't think that will help me. For me, it was if... everything was making sense. Finally, everything just... made sense. I have something I care about. I have a cause. A place to be and things to do. And then Oliver got shot, and it no longer made sense. I didn't get mad because of Oliver, I got mad because of the disarray his wound caused me." Jamie admits ashamed.
"...Do you think an hour trying to murder me every day would help?" Taylor offers tentatively, causing Jamie's head to snap around to stare at her again.
"What?" He squawks.
"I mean, if your problem is you can't think straight when you lose your composure like that, then the answer is to practice until you can right?" She points out easily.
"We already spar fairly frequently-" Jamie tries to say but is cut off by Taylor's loud snort of derision in response.
"I didn't say spar. I said try to kill me." She explains.
"But you could get hurt!" He shouts back in horror, which is fair, given everything you've seen of Aspirant when he isn't holding back, or at least, holding to a mostly humanoid form. Taylor snorts again.
"Listen, one, if you seriously manage to harm me I can heal myself, and two, you probably won't." She says, laughing when Jamie's eyes narrow at her dismissal of his chances.
"Tell you what though. If you can hurt me, I'll get Trainwreck a date with the next attractive woman of his choosing." She drawls, clearly never expecting to have to follow through on such a thing. You wince. You agree that your Master probably doesn't have too much to fear from Aspirant when she's trying her hardest, but you suspect she might be behaving just a bit cockily right now.
"Fine, deal. If you'll excuse me, I have to go train." Jamie responds sharply, although you can tell he is in noticeably higher spirits than he was at the beginning of the meeting.
"Just one thing. Call your parents. Please?" Taylor says, shooting a pleading look Jamie's way. When he doesn't immediately respond, she endeavours to pout at him.
"...Fine." He bites out, before leaving the room.
"Hah! Still got it!" She crows happily.
'Master, I don't think guilting him by looking pathetic counts.' You point out fondly, the moment oddly reminiscent of your Master's first meeting with the boy who would be Aspirant.
'What was that? I couldn't hear you over all my Wizardly Might.' She responds smugly.
You smile at your Master's antics, but otherwise, drop the topic.