Current Energy: 19
Current Training: Left Hand of Reconstruction 5/10 - 7/10
Sunday, February 27th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
You awaken that morning with a crick in your neck.
Your Master, being the adaptable person she is, had taken very little time to reorient herself around your new change in physicality. She had no issues with the idea of you sleeping in the bed that night. She'd barely had to think about it, in fact. Nemesis seemed happy enough to have you around, although you suspect that is because the sword can be a tad possessive more than anything else.
So why are you waking up in the corner of the room, with your butt on the floor and your head resting at the point where the two walls meet?
Simply put, because while your Master might be okay with it, and your previous emulation was too much of an airhead to question it, your current emulation is very aware of how strange the entire scenario is. As such, you've chosen to abstain from sleeping in the bed for the moment. You suspect your Master expects you to break and get in the bed like normal eventually since she makes approximately no effort to get you a separate bed - but that's fine, this emulation has slept in worse situations.
Also, he is very stubborn.
With some amusement, you watch your Master roll over and grope around in her bed, at the same time that Nemesis does the same, both of them dazedly fumbling around the empty spot you typically take up.
"...Emmy?" Taylor asks blearily as she snaps properly awake and sits up, her hair somehow going from 'terrible bed head' to 'artfully touseled' in real-time the moment she wakes up.
"Over here," You state easily, standing up and stretching before walking over to your Master's bed to help her and Nemesis get up for the day - mostly by grabbing a set of clothes for her and bringing her a brush she probably doesn't need anymore.
"Okay, let's get to it then," Taylor says once she is fully dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that prominently displays the unfinished tattoo on her left arm.
You shoot her a confused look.
"To what?" You ask bluntly, ignoring Nemesis as she sleepily grumbles at you before climbing up onto your back and going limp across your broad shoulders. Your Master falters slightly, seemingly tripping on air before catching herself and turning back to you, her eyes wide.
"To... training...?" She says hesitantly, waving her left arm at you while gesturing at it with her right hand - like a magician's assistant.
"Master, it's five in the morning." You state flatly. Taylor's brows furrow in irritation as she replies.
"Yeah, the same time I always train. Are you okay?" She asks, switching to concerned.
"Master. It's five in the morning," You repeat, before elaborating. "What time does the tattoo parlor open?"
Taylor - to her credit - opens her mouth, then closes it, then opens it again, seemingly at a loss for words.
"...So... no training?" She asks you incredulously.
"No Master. No training. What do normal teenagers do on Sunday here? I don't think we've ever done that before." You ask aloud, drawing an annoyed flinch from your Master as you imply that she is abnormal in any way.
Which she is. In... pretty much every way actually.
Case and point, once she gets over the sudden annoyance at your statement, Taylor's face immediately shifts into one of utter focus, and determination as she boldly throws her t-shirt across the room reaches for her pajamas, and puts them back on.
"I'm going to have a normal Sunday morning." She declares with great pride.
Sunday, February 27th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
"Is this... normal?" You ask, unable to move under the small army of children crawling over you.
Your Master - who is sitting in a recliner nearby - turns a questioning look on you, so you elaborate.
"We are watching cartoons," You point out, lifting your left arm and then quickly lowering it when Mun - who is sitting on the back of the couch - looks down at the raised limb as though trying to determine if you are strong enough to hold her entire body weight upon it.
You are, but that's entirely beside the point.
"I mean, it's what I used to do before getting powers." Taylor answers with a shrug, taking a sip of her mug of tea, her eyes turning to half moons as she smiles winningly at you.
"But, it's a cartoon about someone we know!" You counter, attempting to throw your arms in the air in protest, but finding yourself unable to do so without disturbing Nemesis - who is asleep across your right side with her arms wrapped around your bicep.
"Hey, I'll have you know that the Amazing Adventures of Mouse Protector is at least forty percent more whimsical than my actual adventures!" Mouse counters immediately, hastily tipping her bowl of cereal upward to drain the milk from it. The older woman is currently dressed in a t-shirt that looks suspiciously like it is sized for Danny and very little else - which is fair you suppose since the men are outnumbered by the women in this house by a sizable margin.
"Are these actually based on real things you've done?" Danny asks quizzically as he wanders into the living room of the Hebert household, which has been shuffled around to fit all the extra seating require for Mem, Mun, Nemesis, You, Taylor, Danny, Jess, and Mouse Protector to be comfortable in it.
You are all sitting uncomfortably close together as a result.
"Eh, some of it. I dunno, I mostly just leave it to my agent to figure out." Mouse admits, springing up to saunter the two feet required to plop herself down on the couch next to Danny - opposite Jess - when he sits down with a plate of bacon and eggs - a meal he has been repeatedly plating and handing out to everyone in the room since your Master had effectively kidnapped them all earlier.
"For someone with an agent and an entire television show about them you seem to have a lot of free time," Jess grumbles flatly, reaching up to push Danny's plate out of the way just in time to prevent Mouse from stealing some of his bacon. Mouse seems inordinately pleased by the opportunity to say something in response to that - but doesn't as a new voice rings out.
"Please be quiet. I need to see how Mouse Protector defeats Ravager in this episode." Mem's voice cuts across the room, instantly silencing everyone present with the intensity present in the typically bored-sounding girl's voice.
"Um, It's no big deal I just-" Mouse hesitantly speaks up.
"Please do not talk at the same time as Mouse Protector." Mem stops her, gesturing again at the tiny tv screen across the room. Mouse Protector - for the first time since you've known her - gets a puckered look on her face as she stares into the middle distance, having effectively just been told to shut up while a cartoon version of herself speaks.
Everyone else in the room lowers their voices appropriately, and Mem nods at the change in volume, leaning back in her seat.
Which is your lap.
You are covered in children, and despite yourself, you can't help but find it adorably amusing. A sentiment your Master seems to share as she periodically snickers in your direction.
Your family - and that's... weird to say but somehow you feel deep in your core self that it is true - spends the better part of the morning watching reruns of old cartoons, most of them based on superheroes like Mouse Protector and to a lesser extent the first iteration of the Triumvirate television show - before it was split up into three separate shows for each character.
Mem in particular is happily discussing the merits of Alexandria's television show - her least favorite - when the doorbell rings. Which is strange... because everyone who could conceivably visit the Hebert household is already there, or has Taylor's cellphone number.
"I got it," Taylor states lazily, waving everyone else down and putting the book she had been paging through for a while now. Stretching, she stands and meanders over to the door, obviously benefiting from the first 'lazy' day she's had in a long time.
Her relaxed demeanor immediately flattens out, her body going stiff and emotions becoming strained when she opens the door. Alarmed, you stand - sending a cascade of children falling in protest to the couch - and quickly move to join her.
"Nexus, Emmy." The woman at the door states. She is of average height, looks to be in her early twenties, and has long black hair neatly arranged to look as professional as possible without being in a bun of any kind. Her charcoal grey suit is well fitted and clearly expensive-looking, and it takes you several moments to parse that you are staring at Alexandria sans her costume - which leaves her looking much less imposing than you remember.
"...No, sorry, I can't do this - do I call you Alexandria or Miss Costa Brown, or Rebecca or Becky or what?" Taylor blurts out, drawing an annoyed look from the older superheroine who... doesn't really look all that much older, to be honest.
"...Rebecca, please. I'm here to arrange to take Gram back with me." Alexandria states, causing your Master to tilt her head.
"I don't follow. Did you manage to draw it?" She asks.
"No, but when I do-" The other woman begins to explain then pauses when your Master snorts at her.
"You don't need to arrange anything with me. If you can pull it out you can fly into the sunset with it." Your Master says airly and - if you are being honest - perhaps a bit mockingly. Alexandria opens her mouth to say something on the topic you're sure, but Taylor cuts her off again.
"My office hours are from whenever I feel like it to whenever I feel like it, please, feel free to talk to Trainwreck if you need help with anything on the grounds." She says, her voice suddenly beatific and calm.
Then she slams the door in Alexandria's face.
"Who was it?" Jess asks as you and your Master settle back into your respective positions.
"Eh, just someone trying to get me to give them Gram. Don't worry about it." She says dismissively before tucking her legs up under herself and reaching for her book.
Sunday, February 27th, 2011
Parian's Boutique, Brockton Bay
"So what exactly would you be looking for in a specially made tinker-" your Master pauses to cough 'magic' into her hand before continuing, "-fabric?"
"Well, I suppose anything would do really. Most of my clients are looking for something that will interact well with their powers. Changers, Breakers, and Brutes don't have the easiest time with their costumes." Sabah says with a frown, not fully turning to look at your Master as she works. You are currently sequestered in the workroom of Parian's boutique - the one that is essentially a giant series of spools that Parian can use to create outfits on the fly. She isn't currently in costume and instead is in a loose-fitting long sleeve shirt and a long grey skirt. It's the last thing you would expect to see the fashionista Cape wearing, which is perhaps why she has it on in the first place.
"Yeah I can see how that might be a problem for some people," Taylor responds with a grimace, having only recently found out that in the aftermath of her first fight with Purity, she had ended up only just barely on the right side of public indecency - something that some enterprising soul had made sure to take pictures of and post on PHO just recently.
You aren't entirely certain who "SpecificProtagonist" is, but you can guarantee that they won't have a good time if your Master ever comes across them.
Distantly, there is the sound of a loud thumping followed by an incoherent screech of rage as the walls of the boutique vibrate around you. Both Sabah and your Master ignore the noise, already knowing full well what it is and who is causing it.
"There are technical workarounds for most problems and I'm in the business of fashion, not armor, so I've been mostly ignoring any requests that don't personally interest me," Sabah says with a shrug, waving her arms like a conductor directing a symphony as an entire midnight black dress springs rapidly into existence before you - only to tear itself apart just as fast, thread and fabric unweaving into individual strings that return to their places along the wall.
"I probably can't do anything too catch-all, but if you can get me some hair or something, I can probably work some sympathetic magic out that will link the costume to its wearer - you know, so it benefits from their powers, changes with them, that kind of thing. But it would be sort of bespoke. I don't know if it's worth-" your Master muses aloud, laying sideways in the air and sipping on a lemonade she had procured just for this occasion.
On a normal day, Taylor would be out and about, typically training, but also just generally checking in around the Heap to see if everyone was okay, or if anyone needed help with anything.
Today, she is hiding with Parian for the explicit purpose of being as unhelpful as possible to Alexandria.
Is it petty? Yes. Do you think it is unwarranted? No, no you do not. The woman tried to kill Trainwreck, and has just generally been a nuisance to Taylor ever since they met. In your personal opinion, such minor pranks as this aren't nearly as bad as what the woman probably deserved.
Not that anyone, anywhere, should ever take your opinion on how to settle a grudge. Your current emulation wasn't exactly well known for having a cool head when enraged by something.
Another loud thump rocks the building but your Master hardly notices because Parian has practically teleported into her face, eyes shining with barely repressed interest.
"So, you could make it so a Cape who bursts into flames couldn't burn her costume? Or would the costume also become fire? Would the colors remain the same? If I made a purple dress, would the fire be purple? Taylor why didn't you tell me about this sooner?!" Sabah blurts out in uncharacteristic glee. It is obvious that less than the practical applications of such a costume, Sabah's primary interest is in the aesthetically pleasing aspects of such a thing. Which is fair - since she cares much more about fashion than she does about being a superhero.
"Emmy, I forgot how much I don't like fashion! Help!" Taylor mentally fires at you.
"I... don't know?" She says, her expression and tone doing nothing to betray the sudden panic pooling in her gut.
"I will keep an eye on Alexandria for you," you offer diplomatically, quickly loping through the wall and out of the building before she can object.
After all, you've done this song and dance before. If you stayed in that room, it wouldn't be long before Parian had you modeling things for her. Not even things relevant to the current topic of discussion. Just for fun, while they did something else.
As you step out into the courtyard, you are temporarily confused to find Dinah present - leaning against the wall of Parian's shop with a cup of coffee roughly twice the size of her open hand in both hands.
"Hey! Um, my mom thinks I'm at Missy's house." She says the minute you come to a stop next to her. You don't bother looking at her, instead, gazing at the spectacle currently ongoing in your courtyard.
Before you, in the middle of the area Gram was left, there is a tree. At the base of that tree, Gram still rests - unmoved from in any way, shape, or form. It is the upper half of the tree that forms the current spectacle - one that noone is here to see, as the PRT has cordoned off the Heap for a short period of time.
Because the branches on the upper half of the tree have fused together into massive cedar fists, which are currently repeatedly hammering Alexandria into the ground a few dozen meters away. You open your mouth to comment on the topic, before glancing down at yourself and suddenly recognizing that you... still aren't tangible. Or visible, actually. Something you quickly remedy, turning to stare at Dinah.
"How...?" You ask her curiously.
"Future stuff. Hey, can I get a tattoo?" She asks brightly, just as Alexandria is picked up and thrown across the bay by the tree.
You think about it for a second.
But only one second.
"No." You state flatly, as Alexandria flies back down out of the distance only to be deflected away from Gram by a massive wooden hand.
Sunday, February 27th, 2011
Downtown, Brockton Bay
"I still think you should let me get a tattoo," Dinah pouts from off to your side, having come with you to the tattoo parlor on that basis that nowhere is safer than directly next to Taylor.
Which... is technically true...
"Dinah, you're twelve. You can't have a tattoo." Taylor says firmly, not moving at all to gesture - having learned her lesson from the last time you were here.
"Yeah but I'm super mature for my age! And a tattoo would be super cool! Come on, just a little one? Like, a dragon or something on my shoulder? No one has to know!" She complains, sipping at her - again, massive - cup of coffee.
"That guy would know since we're in his shop." Taylor points out, literally gesturing with her free hand at the owner of the store and the handful of people who have gathered to ostensibly get tattoos from him. There are only two chairs in the place for work to be done, and you suspect many of these people are just here to watch Taylor be her usual perfect self, but you're glad business is good for the man if nothing else. He certainly seems happy about the uptick in customers, whatever their reasons for being here.
He is also looking nervously towards your Master, obviously unwilling to give a minor a tattoo but equally unwilling to cross your Master.
"He'd do it if you told him to," Dinah says in a dejected and defeated tone.
"Shouldn't you know better than to ask this kind of stuff? Also, what's with the coffee?" Taylor asks, rolling her eyes at the younger girl, who glances around nervously when your Master references her powers.
"I'm preparing," Dinah says, wrinkling her nose in distaste but taking another pull from her cup. Your Master stares at her, waiting for a better explanation than that.
"For...?" Taylor asks, obviously unsure if she actually wants to know the answer to that question.
"Future stuff. I'll tell you if you let me get a tattoo?" Dinah tries again, smiling impishly at the two of you.
"You know you could ask your Mom this right? You need parental permission if you're underage." Taylor explains, her patience for this particular line of questioning obviously reaching its limit.
"Did you ask anyone?" Dinah counters immediately, almost like she knew this would come up which... she might have.
"You realize making me feel stupid for losing an argument with a twelve-year-old isn't going to make me more likely to help you right?" Taylor says in annoyance.
"But you did lose an argument with a twelve year old. Which implies I might know something you don't. What if I need a tattoo Taylor? What if the fate of the world depends on it?" Dinah says gravely. Your Master pauses, waving you away so she can sit up to stare seriously at the little girl, her glasses glinting under the bright lights overhead.
"...does it?" She asks seriously, causing Dinah to pout.
"...No. Stupid super glasses." She grumbles.
Your Master just sighs exasperatedly at her and lies back down.
Sunday, February 27th, 2011
PRT Headquarters, Brockton Bay
"Nexus. How good of you to join us." Piggot states dryly from behind her desk as you and your Master take a seat across from her. Alexandria is hovering behind her, looking slightly disheveled and irked. From your invisible vantage point behind Taylor, you can't help but notice the slight twitch at the corner of Piggot's mouth whenever Alexandria is in her peripheral vision. From the steadily deepening frown on the elder heroines face, you're fairly certain she has noticed the same thing.
You suppose that going from being in charge of the entire PRT to technically having no direct power over the woman in front of her would be somewhat grating for Alexandria. Especially given Emily Piggot's well known distaste for Parahuman's flaunting rules - something Alexandria had apparently been doing for years.
"I had the time. Also, you called my Dad so... that." Taylor says, obviously slightly put out by the notion.
In truth, the only reason the two of you had even come to the PRT today was that Piggot had left a very strongly worded message with Danny suggesting she might want to do so sooner rather than later. And while Taylor has no physical reason to do anything Danny says, the man is still her Father.
So here you are, instead of finishing your Master's tattoo.
"Yes well. The PRT has a rather long list of people we would like to see returned to us. They are currently listed as 'stranded' in Canberra, and their loved ones are beginning to ask questions. Assuming your usual rates apply, at one person a week we should-" Piggot begins but Taylor lifts a finger in a polite request for her to wait a moment.
"Sorry just, it's going to bother me if I don't do this," She states slowly standing and walking around the table to Alexandria who stares down at her with as baleful a glare as you've ever seen on the woman. Slowly, your Master reaches out towards her, before suddenly accelerating at the last second to snatch something from her head, pulling back just as Alexandria shifts to defend herself.
"You had a twig. In your hair, I mean." Taylor explains, proffering the small bit of wood to Alexandria who stares down at it like she had just been slapped across the face.
You aren't actually sure if Alexandria's face can get red given her stated powers, but you are certain if you could see past her visor, she would be incandescent with either rage or embarrassment currently.
Possibly both.
"I might not be able to do a job every week. I'll try, but I have my own needs too." Taylor quickly explains to Piggot as she glances down at the lengthy list of Capes that presumably died in Canberra fighting the Simurgh. Your Master can technically perform two rituals a week now, but that doesn't mean she wants to put forth that much of a power expenditure for the PRT when she doesn't have to. Even her current agreement is really just out of goodwill for the Capes who died fighting the Endbringer. Both women pointedly ignore Alexandria - who is staring into the middle distance with an intensity you find inappropriate to the current situation.
Still, you hesitate as your Master begins negotiating with Piggot.