Current Energy: 1
Current Training: Ozma Sub Emulation (9/10) - Complete!
Friday, February 11th, 2011
???, ???
[Well, this is way less fun than the last time.] Taylor remarks casually, as Oscar, not... you... but... the copy of the boy who you are emulating that you...
...
The person you are emulating, bolts upright in his bed. The room is... tiny. Basically just a section of attic with a door attached to it. The old wooden floor and walls, along with the somewhat rustic construction of the small bed in one corner of the room beneath an open window speaks to quiet, humble existence. Oscar Pine, at a glance, is not a boy destined for greatness. Not a hero in the making. He is, if nothing else, a teenage boy - who has presently, sleapt in.
"Wuh?!" Oscar blurts out, jolting awake and looking around to find the source of the voice.
"A little on the nose." Ozma notes dryly.
"Listen, I'm not a movie director. This is what I've got. Get off my case." You grouse in response, crossing your arms and pouting slightly.
"And how did she end up dead in order to make the transfer if she is so much 'better' than I am?" Ozma continues idly, glancing about the room while pointedly not turning his knowing smirk on you.
"It's called narrative fiat. Shush. Let me have this." You complain again.
"Hello?" Oscar calls out tentatively into the room, carefully picking up the book that had fallen off of his chest when he jolted upward, having invariably fallen asleep while reading, likely while avoiding his chores for the day.
[Yo.] Taylor greets the boy before you loudly, obvious amusement edging out her mild distress at being temporarily disembodied when he stiffens and whips his head around again, panicking at the idea of an intruder in his home.
"Wh- who are you?! Where are you!?" Oscar yells desperately, casting about for a weapon and, when one is not immediately forthcoming, lifts his book overhead in a cute attempt at appearing threatening.
[Voice in your head. It's just as weird for me as it is for you. Oh! Oh! Call me Emmy! Come on! Do it!] Taylor says, immediately pleased with herself for some reason. Your facial expression cramps slightly as you watch her antics, and Ozma, ever stoic, stifles the beginnings of an amused snort.
"Voice in my- this is some kind of trick. You- you aren't actually in my head. There's a speaker in here somewhere or-" Oscar scowls, eyes panning across the room.
[Nope. Look it's a really long story that would probably make you question your existence, but just, pretend I'm here to be your new best friend.] Taylor explains patiently, obviously not having much else to do by this point.
"I don't need a best friend!" Oscar scowls again, though he does begin to look doubtful as his continued searching turns up no obvious device for the voice to be coming from.
[Come on, don't be such a baby. You're the chosen one or some such. What kid doesn't want to go on an adventure with the voice in their head?] Taylor points out in amusement. Honestly, she even sort of seemed like she might have been convincing the Oscar, until she got to that last part.
"Me! I don't! And- and you're not a voice in my head! You're not real!" Oscar scowls back.
[Okay. I'll be here when something bad happens I guess.] Taylor replies with the mental equivalent of a shrug. The easy admittance seems to throw Oscar off for a second, but he quickly rallies, still standing rigidly in the center of his room.
"So... just like that? You'll leave me alone?" He says hopefully.
[Sure. It's your life. I'm just here to make it better. Let me know if you want to blow up a forest or something. I'm gonna take a nap. I think. This is really weird.] Taylor answers, before her presence swiftly fades away.
Oscar, still somewhat put off by the entire thing, spends another several minutes searching his room for speakers. Ultimately, it takes him less than a day to put the entire thing out of mind. Not just because it was so weird, but because - truthfully - it was pretty far fetched in the first place.
It isn't until the next day, while Oscar is casually dragging around a sack full of fruit that he is casually harvesting for the day, that it comes up again. His aunt, noticing the ease with which he is working, makes a joke about puberty.
This does not embarass him, not at all (that anyone could prove), but it does highlight something for him.
Since when could he lift a two hundred pound sack of fruit one handed so easily?
[Fringe benefits of being my ride, I think. If women with red hair start to make you irrationally angry I'm sorry.] Taylor speaks, answering his thoughts as though she had been waiting for an opportunity to present herself this entire time.
"...What?" Oscar blurts in bewildered confusion.
[There's sort of some... uh... personality bleed? From this. You should start getting a bunch of my powers soon.] Taylor explains.
"Powers? Like... like Aura? Am I a Hunstmen now or...?" Oscar mutters to himself.
[Sure, if that's what you want to go with. I prefer Archmage. I liked 'Grand Wizard' for a bit but it turns out the racists kinda claimed that one so-] Taylor continues on blithely.
"Stop- just- what do you want?" Oscar finally asks, his shoulders tense with worry.
[Nothing. I'm dead, apparently. This is basically my retirement.] Is Taylor's snappy reply, leaving Oscar staring blankly at his own hands in a mix of confusion and dismay.
Over the next few months the pair grow slowly more attached to eachother. Taylor, being familiar with Oscar from his own Emulation of the boy, and Oscar, having never realized how lonely it was on the frontier until he had someone else to talk to. To be friends with. Of course, actual months don't pass. It's been a few hours, tops, in reality. But subjectively, the time spent watching Taylor get along with Oscar, in a beatific farmers life where nothing really goes wrong is... nice.
Too nice.
"This isn't how this goes." Ozma chides you in a disappointed but knowing tone.
"I know." You state blandly, hovering to the side of Oscar as he and Taylor awkwardly play chess against each other. You don't bother to turn towards him. Just watch the ongoing match with some amusement.
"Then you know it can't last forever." Ozma continues pointedly.
"...Yeah. I know." You answer in annoyance. You could have sustained this simulation like this for a lot longer if the annoying wizard wasn't around to prod you to progress the scenario. It was just... You knew that you were nearing your end. When you went to sleep tonight... 'you' probably wouldn't wake up. So seeing Taylor spending time with, if not 'you' then a version of you, is just...
You sigh, pulling yourself physically away from the ongoing game of chess to walk invisibly out of the building, and to the outskirts of the farm. Ozma follows you as you move, and without much fanfare, you make your way deeper into the surrounding forest, until you are just out of sight of the farmhouse.
And directly into a waiting wall of Grimm piled so high, it's a small wonder they haven't crushed each other under their mutual body weight. This had never happened in Ozma's world. But if Oscar had never left his farm to help fight, it probably would have, eventually. The Grimm here are completely still, as if frozen in time. If Oscar had been training, or doing anything to try and master Taylor's abilities, they would be easy prey for him.
But he hadn't. And now, it was too late. So, closing your eyes, you struggle against yourself briefly, before 'unpausing' the hideously massive wave of the beasts, allowing them to rush through your ghostly form and towards the property you had just left, likely to catastrophic results.
You didn't bother staying to watch what was left of the simulation. You didn't really want to. So you very carefully extricate yourself from it, making sure that you awaken with enough time to wipe away your own tears before Taylor awakens.
Friday, February 11th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
You noticed it several minutes ago but - Ozma is no longer present in the wheelhouse of your mind. That result should be obvious, given how strange running multiple instances of one mind would be, but still, there is a finality to that absence that you can't quite put your finger on. It leaves you feeling disturbed and out of sorts as your Master springs awake, stares at the ceiling for several seconds, and then frowns.
"Two things." She states blandly, not getting up.
"Yes?" You ask her curiously, having already since dressed yourself for the day and positioned yourself at the bedside for when your Master awoke.
"First, this is really weird," Taylor says, sitting up, her expression flickering slightly, no doubt in response to something Ozma is telling her.
"Second, I know we can't go there but what if we opened a portal and just, I don't know - nuked the Grimmlands? Like... from orbit?" Taylor says hopefully. You stare at her, your eyebrows rising up to your hairline and staying there before you break out laughing.
"You- you can't just- haha, hahahahaha!" You snort, then begin to laugh raucously at your Master's antics. Truly, you have the greatest of Masters.
"Hey! I'm being serious!" Taylor says with a pout, then rolls her eyes and gets up for the day.
"That's what makes it so funny!" You continue to cackle as she gets dressed.
Ten minutes later, you find yourself in the living room, where Fleur - Jess really - is awake and staring at the ceiling. This gives your Master pause. She's gotten used to Mouse Protector being around because the woman is so overly familiar that it's hard not to just accept her as a part of your life. Like a Parasite. Jess, lacks that distinction. More so, whatever she and Danny had gone through these last few days clearly had taken its toll on her, as she largely ignores Taylor when she walks into the room.
"...Fleur?" Taylor asks hesitantly, sidling in front of the woman so she can get her attention.
"Just Jess. Please." The woman responds in a pained tone, not removing her gaze from the singular point on the ceiling she had been staring at.
"Right. Jess, then. Can you tell me where you and Dad went?" Taylor asks straight away, eyeing the woman.
"No." She replies bluntly. Taylor stares flatly at her for a second, opens her mouth, closes it, then opens it again.
"You know, I don't really... like... threatening people... but... you sort of kidnapped my Dad and brought him back after getting him mauled by a bear," Taylor says finally, causing Jess to finally lower her gaze from the ceiling to stare stupidly at your Master.
"That... wasn't actually a threat though. I think you just threatened to threaten me, actually." She states, lifting a finger to point at Taylor for emphasis.
"I recently learned I can destroy a geographical area large enough to be visible on a map. I'm trying to be very careful with what kind of threats I throw around." Taylor answers with a shrug. This brings Jess up short, and her pointing finger droops slightly. Invisible as you are, you can't help but snicker. You love your Master, but you know for a fact that she would never actually cut loose like that on a populated area. In fact, the mere chance that some random traveller could be in the Grimmlands at the time of her 'orbital strike' was enough to dissuade her from making the attempt.
"Well. That was a threat, I guess..." Jess mutters, before clearing her throat.
"So... you know I... used to be dating Lightstar, right?" She prefaces carefully, her face pointedly neutral as she speaks.
"No?" Taylor answers instantly. She wasn't really much for tracking celebrity relationships, even before Emma had gone off the deep end.
"Oh. Well, Mike is Carol and Sarah's brother. We... I really loved him, you know?" Jess says with a slight shudder.
"What does that have to do with kidnapping my Dad?" Taylor asks, squinting at the older woman. You wouldn't say that Taylor doesn't care about Jess's wellbeing, so much as she cares more about her father.
"After I... died... Mike left the state. I don't have a license anymore. Or a car. Or money. And I just... I needed to see him." Jess explains emphatically, her arms rising as though to gesticulate for emphasis until a tired look crosses her face and she drops them.
"Okay. But-" Taylor begins again, obviously trying to get the woman to get to the point.
"Your Dad punched him in the face and we spent all day running from some Hero's who misunderstood the situation!" Jess blurts out, then flinches away from Taylor as if expecting to be attacked. Taylor, for her part, just stares at the blond woman, her brow furrowed.
"...Why not just phone me?" She asks instead of addressing anything else.
"No cellphone. We couldn't-" Jess starts to explain.
"Bullshit. Payphones still exist." Taylor counters immediately.
"We didn't want to worry you?" Jess tries again, causing Taylor's eyes to narrow into slits as she contemplates that.
"Why?" She eventually asks with a tired sigh.
"You just seemed so busy, and Danny, he really didn't want-"
"Not that. Why did Dad punch your Ex." Taylor clarifies in annoyance.
"Oh. Uh..." Jess says, blushing suddenly, then coughing to clear her throat and speaking again, "You'd have to ask him." she replies quietly. At this, Taylor lifts an eyebrow in question. Jess spends a moment looking about the room frantically, clearing seeking some distraction or escape, then brightens, her body going slack as her Shinigami form exits it. Carefully, she makes to step around Taylor to exit the room, only to be grabbed by the collar and thrown back at her body hard enough that it jolts slightly as she settles into it.
"You realize that even if that worked, I'd still have your body." Taylor notes.
"Has anyone ever told you that you Heberts can be sort of intense?" Jess says weakly.
"Yes. So?" Taylor answers shortly. Eventually, Jess sighs and readjusts her position on the couch to be more comfortable before speaking.
"Carol must have warned him I might be coming. He... sort of refused to see me. Danny got kind of mad about it, so he looked up Mike's address and pretended to be a delivery guy." She finally explains nervously.
"...So Dad basically hunted down a Cape at home and punched him in the head. No wonder you got chased out of town. Do we need a lawyer?" Taylor asks, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"I hope not. I did manage to force a balaclava over your Dad's head while we were running away." Jess answers with a grimace, then hardens her expression, turning to look at Taylor like a woman on death row.
"Taylor I'm so... so... sorry." She says, tears forming in her eyes.
"I- I think your Dad triggered." She whispers.
You can actually feel the annoyed exasperation coming off of your Master as the older woman begins bawling.
Friday, February 11th, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
Your Master spends the rest of the day a mix of annoyed, concerned, and amused. On the one hand, Danny now has a reasonable excuse to have powers - although you think any of the dozen traumatic events in this last month would serve equally well as 'false' trigger events. On the other, Danny apparently spent a day leading another cities hero's on a wild goose chase because he couldn't control his temper.
You can understand intrinsically why the situation annoyed the man. From Danny's point of view, if his wife had come back to life he would drop everything to go to her. Loyalty is clearly a key aspect of his personality, and the idea of a loved one reaching out to you after apparently dying and then ignoring them must have struck a chord with him.
Regardless, compounding your Master's worries, you still have no idea where Mouse Protector is. Hence, you have found yourself talking to the only other person in the city who actually knows the woman. To your knowledge anyway.
"I haven't spoken to her in a few days but that's... not entirely un-common for her." Miss Militia says cautiously, sitting across from you in the - intentionally small - office in your castle set aside for your PRT liaison.
"In a city as wild as Brockton is right now? Seriously?" Taylor asks incredulously.
"Well... no. But Mouse has always been..." Miss Militia says, frowning, then trailing off as though trying to find the right word to use.
"Irresponsible?" Taylor supplies dryly.
"...Yes. That." Miss Milita returns with a wince.
"So what your saying is, she might be fine, but she also... might not." Taylor says bluntly. Miss Milita frowns at this but doesn't deny the point.
"Well do you know anything about where she was last?" Taylor asks exapseratedly. On the one hand, you've already gathered that most of the Protectorate find Mouse Protector supremely annoying, and in general, try to avoid her as best they can. But even still, you can't imagine what kind of reputation Mouse must have cultivated that even some of her oldest friends would be largely unconcerned when she goes missing.
"I think she was following a lead on Ravager hiding out in an Endbringer shelter." Militia says, quickly withdrawing her phone to search for an address and showing it to your Master.
"We sent people to look at it when she asked us about it, but there wasn't any sign of forced entry. She might have gone to look for herself." She continues, turning a worried look on Taylor.
"Thanks. I'll check it out." Taylor says absently, quickly standing to go.
"Ah, Taylor?" Miss Militia asks before she can leave. "I was wondering if your Father had returned yet. I'll be rotating out with someone else this weekend, and I have some paperwork for him." She states demurely.
Taylor turns a dubious look on the woman, but answers regardless.
"He got in yesterday. He might be in his office right now honestly. I didn't see him in the house this morning when I got up so he probably came in like normal. Did you check?" Taylor asks.
"This morning, yes. I'll check again." Militia says, just a bit too quickly, standing up herself.
You and your Master watch her go before shrugging at eachother and continuing onward.
Friday, February 10th, 2011
Uptown Endbringer Shelter, Brockton Bay
Endbringer shelters are the sort of things that are almost ubiquitous in most cities. Everyone knows where they are. Everyone knows what they're for. And no one, no one, tampers with them. The citizens of Brockton Bay tolerated Nazi's for years, but if they caught wind of some villain damaging one of the shelters that they might find themselves in during an Endbringer attack, your fairly certain they would form a mob and lynch the offender.
So no one screwed with Endbringer shelters.
This is probably why your Master, upon arriving to the huge metal hatch that is supposed to hold the giant engines of destruction at bay, only to find it half torn out of the wall, begins to panic.
"Shit!" She blurts out, immediately drawing her sword and dashing into darkened tunnel beyond.
'Backup.' You remind her, causing her to slow down just enough that she can pull her phone from a pocket and dial the PRT.
"Hello?! This is Nexus - I'm in an Endbringer shelter that looks like someone ran the whole thing through a wood chipper! I have reason to believe Mouse Protector might be present!" She yells into the thing the second it connects, then rapidly rattles off the details of the address, throwing the phone back in her pocket and speeding forward.
Endbringer Shelters are build in a very particular way. The tunnels leading into them are intentionally sized wider than is neccessary, because in the event that a Shelter is being actively used, everyone present is likely to be panicking, and no one wanted to see innoccent people trampled in fear. More so than that, the tunnels themselves always lead to a fairly sizeable 'waiting' area further in, that was both heavily reinforced, and typically stocked with emergency rations, in the event that those using it might be trapped for a few days. The walls of the shelters were almost invariably built using the latest in material sciences. It was never just concrete. People didn't pay for concrete walls against Endbringers. No, there was always some new Tinker derived something or other going into the construction of one of these shelters. Which, of course, made the extensive damage to the no doubt super durable walls, extremely disconcerting to you.
This was a concern that grew greater the further you went, until eventually you emerged into the waiting area, which looked as though a hurricane had hit it. All the equipment, everything vaguely resembling seating, and basically anything else that wasn't explicitly nailed down were strewn about the room, often in small, smashed pieces. Ugly brown stains were spread across the floor, as though a massive object had been dragged through a pool of blood, and one of the other entrances to the shelter had clearly been damaged by said large object trying to fit it's bulk into the corridor outside of it.
And there was absolutely no sign of Mouse Protector.
"I swear when I find that woman, if she makes a cheese pun, I'll kill her." Taylor curses dourly, staying on guard but otherwise waiting for the PRT to arrive.
"I'll have to make something to track her. Do you think she left any hair in the guest room?" Taylor asks you as she waits.
'Probably. This isn't right though. What could possibly have been down here? And how could it have gotten here without anyone noticing it?' You ask in confusion. The door to most Endbringer Shelters was closer in nature to a bank vault than a door. The fact that the thing had been half crumpled meant that whatever was in here hadn't been gentle or quiet.
Unless it was a Stranger but well... you'd cross that bridge when you came to it.
Taylor, for her part, doesn't answer you, likely because she agrees with you, and doesn't really know what to do about it.
Eventually, Velocity arrives, and Taylor - not otherwise needed for the investigation, leaves.
Friday, February 10th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
It's only later that night, that reality really sets in for you, and you find yourself staring at the clock.
Taylor has been up this entire time trying to engineer a form of her tracking spell that is more accurate than 'within a few blocks' with only limited success, and neither Jess, nor Danny are current home.
During all this, you... just sort of exist. You wouldn't say you were bored, but neither would you say you were very high tension either. You just... were. And, as the clock continues to tick upward, with only a handful of minutes until midnight, you realize, you'd like to continue to exist. You don't want to change anymore. Your Master doesn't really need more powers. Maybe if you were very careful you could edit your activation, or send a request to the Warrior or Thinker hubs to be fixed or-
"Emmy? Are you... okay?" Taylor asks suddenly, looking up from the kitchen table to frown at you, no doubt sensing your growing panic.
"No." You choke out, as you begin to tear up. Alarmed, Taylor gets up and rounds the table towards you, pulling you into a hug.
"What's wrong? Is it Mouse Protector? We'll find her okay? I can bring back the dead so even if we can't-" Taylor begins, rubbing your back like a mother, or older sister might. Both things this emulation didn't even have, and yet desperately yearned for.
"N-no. I just- I really like- this. I really like me. I- I know I'm useless. I'm slow. I'm weak. You don't- you don't really need me- like this." You burble out between sobs, unable to take your eyes away from the clock on the wall.
"I'll always need you," Taylor says in a matter of fact tone, her own voice cracking slightly as she hugs you tighter.
"You'll always have 'me'" You say misleadingly, not wanting your Master to feel sad, and simultaneously, desperately wanting to beg her to do something, anything to stop the minute hand on the clock from jumping forward again. Fretfully, you withdraw Long Memory, placing it on the table before you, one hand clenched around it in a white knuckled grip while the other wraps around your Master to squeeze her back.
"So there's no problem then. Come on, let's go to bed." Taylor urges you, trying to pull you to your feet. You don't budge. You're still staring at the clock. One second. Two. Three. Four.
"I love you Master. And I - I -" You splutter, gripping your Master so tightly that if she were not a brute she would have a broken spine.
Fifty six, fifty seven-
"I don't want to go!" You blurt out, just as the clock strikes midnight. The single unit of energy that would usually drain at this point, you refuse to waste it. You refuse to go quietly. So even as your physical being begins to unravel into streams of data and light - you shove it outward, solidifying Long Memory in a way that you really shouldn't be able to do normally.
It's the last thing you do before 'You' are no more, and another 'You' pulses forth, to take its place.