Current Energy: 16
Current Training: Right Hand of Destruction 5/10 - This Omake Bonus in thanks to TirelessTraveler
Wednesday, March 2nd, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
You wake up like normal, only to find your Master somehow awake before you which is... weird. Not just because it can't happen but more because it typically just... doesn't. Your Master already gets essentially the bare minimum of sleep in order to indulge her training... habit? You aren't actually sure if that quite captures your Master's dedication at this point. Some people get up early to jog, but that's only an hour or so at most, and they typically have days off. More so than that, they don't do it for fun, they do it for the beneficial results of doing so.
Your Master seemingly exists on five to six hours of sleep a day purely for the sheer joy of finding better ways to enact ultraviolence on enemies who historically have barely even been able to handle her when she's functioning at a level you'd charitably describe as 'minimum violence'.
So for your Master to wake up even earlier than normal means she either hasn't slept or has only gotten a few hours of sleep that night.
And that concerns you deeply - because it implies something has gone quite wrong. Coincidentally, you can recall doing something yesterday that would explain exactly what has gone wrong - namely, explaining to your Master that you are a space parasite.
Lurching upward, you quickly determine which direction your Master is in through your link, become intangible, and launch yourself straight at her as fast as you can.
This has the interesting effect of causing you to fly bodily through the ceiling, passing through most of the house where you land in the empty garage - where your Master is sitting cross-legged in the center of the room with a wrench in one hand - the one that prominently has her tattoo on it, in fact.
"Is everything okay?" You ask her urgently, hands coming up to check your surroundings, even as you implore your Shard half to give you some kind of sign if the Warrior is inbound or you are about to be attacked in Shard Space or something.
"Emmy..?" Taylor mumbles at you dazedly, making you frown as you wonder if she even remembers what you told her yesterday.
"Stay behind me." You order her, tuning all your senses to trying to determine where the threat is coming from.
"Why?" Your Master asks you, followed by a short yawn.
"Because-" You pause, struggling with yourself. You told your Master you're a Parasite but you didn't explain anything to do with the cycle - or why knowing even what she knows now is extremely dangerous. Sure, she understood that she absolutely shouldn't tell people the origin of powers - obviously - but that doesn't mean she's considered the wider implications of why an entire species of super-beings would willingly leash themselves to humans.
Of course, by the time you finish considering all of that, you have actually bothered to look at Taylor, at which point it dawns on you that you might be overreacting. As it turns out, your estimation of your Master's training addict tendencies were sort of an understatement. All it really takes to get her to lose sleep is a power she finds particularly interesting.
Like the ability to completely restructure any object she is touching on a molecular level.
As evidenced by the small army of fist-sized models surrounding her.
"...Nevermind. I... mistakenly assumed something was wrong. B-because you woke up before me." You explain while violently shoving down and ignoring your embarrassment.
"Yeah I uh, didn't get any sleep last night. Do you have any idea how cool this thing is?!" Taylor explains before promptly exploding into excited yelling. She has bags under her eyes, but - probably as a result of her various powers and perks - looks more like a lazy beauty than a haggard teen that stayed up all night.
"It's just alchemy I don't-" You start to state but are cut off.
"Emmy I can make gold! Yeah, I had to look up the composition of gold, then the composition of lawn soil, then spend hours giving myself a headache with these stupid glasses while I reasoned out the process to get from point A to point B but I can make gold! I'm gonna be..." She yells at you with a manic smile on her face before suddenly slowing to a stop.
"I- I'm already rich." She realizes belatedly before her hollow gaze drops to the fist-sized replicas of all your friends and acquaintances littering the ground - all of them glittering gold in the dim light of the garage.
"You own a castle," you point out in confusion.
"I know that!" She hisses back at you.
"You get paid hundreds of thousands of dollars for a couple hours of work," you continue, still perplexed.
"..."
"You technically own a mall. You employ the entirety of your Father's organization. You are the single driving force behind the economy of the entire city and that's something this current emulation understands without even thinking about it. How... how did you forget you were-" You ask blankly.
"It- it's not like I actually look at my bank account anymore! And half of that stuff I have other people handle! I don't even know how much money I have right now. I assume a lot but... but..." Taylor trails off, her eyes going distant. Then she glances around at the run down garage she is sitting in, and finally back to you. Slowly, her expression shifts from one of tired confusion and embarrassment to a completely neutral expression - the one she typically uses when she is about to do something outrageous.
"Oh, look at the time. Better meditate." She mumbles, waving a hand to shove all of the models she has made to one side with a wave of magic, and then quickly dropping into a meditative trance as she escapes into her inner world.
Now, your current emulation doesn't really laugh often - but you aren't entirely your current emulation, so you can't help by start to snicker, and then finally laugh heartily at your Master's clumsy attempt to change the subject.
Honestly, you really love this girl.
Now you just have to figure out how you're going to protect her from... everything, really.
Wednesday, March 2nd, 2011
PRT Headquarters, Brockton Bay
"I regret everything." Your master states bluntly as she blinks owlishly at the sun overhead on her way into the PRT building. School that day was not particularly trying, or even really interesting. The most notable event was some random teen mustering up the balls to actually challenge your Master to a fight. You don't think he was actually expecting to win. In fact, you don't think he was actually expecting to fight. You suspect the genius thought that your Master might simply take a shining to him on the basis that he must either be brave or suicidal to follow through.
She did not, and he spent approximately two seconds kissing the ground under your Master's spiritual pressure before she patted him on the shoulder and left school that day. You found it particularly interesting that not a single teacher even attempted to stop the fight.
Regardless, your Master has been in something of a bad mood for most of the day, largely as a result of not sleeping last night, but has so far refused to just call it a day early for reasons that escape you. She says she doesn't want to mess up her schedule, but really, who's going to tell her what to do?
Naturally, you are overruled in this respect, which is why you are here now.
Your Master is curious about Dragons pet project. Without thinking over much about it, your Master groggily walks past the receptionist, waves at them, and meanders into the building without asking. It takes approximately one minute and thirty two seconds for a member of the Protectorate to show up asking what shes doing wandering around the building like a zombie.
Blessedly, that Protectorate member is Armsmaster, and when your Master explains hers intent to him he is quick to take her to the ritual room.
"Hey Dragon," Your Master greets the digitally rendered image of the woman on the screen when she enters the room.
"Good afternoon Taylor. I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon. Have you gotten a new power that allows you to bring people back faster?" Dragon asks in a tone that hovers between motherly and professional. You don't even think she does it on purpose - it's just her default tone of voice.
"She expressed interest in helping you with your side project. I too would be interested in providing assistance on that front." Armsmaster answers for your Master before she can open her mouth, unusually aggressive for the taciturn man.
"Co- Armsmaster, you know I can't tell you any more than I already have." Dragon chides the man, seeing right through his poor attempts at inserting himself into the situation.
"But you won't be fully explaining things to her either, so I should be okay to sit in on this." He points out.
"That's... true..." Dragon hedges.
"Hey, I don't mean to get involved in... whatever this is... but if she doesn't want you to be here then you should probably go away." Taylor points out, causing Armsmasters head to whip around comically to stare at her.
"N-no it's nothing like that. He can stay, I don't mind." Dragon quickly corrects herself in an awkward rush. Armsmaster doesn't directly say anything but he does turn away from Taylor to nod at the screen before walking over to settle himself in the same seat he used to observe all the computers from the other day.
"Uhuh... so what's up?" Taylor mutters before asking. She tiredly glances around the room for a minute before shrugging and making herself a chair out of solid magic to sit in. You take immense pleasure in the slight flinch this elicits from Armsmaster.
"I've observed your process for this several times, and from what I can tell you appear to be recreating peoples bodies from undifferentiated matter-"
"Magic." Your Master corrects, curling one knee up on her seat and resting her hand on it.
"-that only partially becomes permanently stable upon completion." Dragon finishes, ignoring your Master's correction.
You suppose most science-minded people, let alone Tinkers, would take massive issue with your Master's casual use of esoteric forces. You're sure Dragon is assuming that 'Magic' is just some Shard related crud that humans don't understand yet. The joke is on her though, because you're pretty sure even your species couldn't make heads or tales of this stuff.
"And?" Taylor prompts.
"Well, it occurs to me that if you can perform this procedure on people who are still alive, that the malleable nature of the resulting body might allow some Case 53's to obtain something approaching normality - not to mention the benefit of being able to replicate the process without the bottleneck of your power." Dragon begins to explain.
"Yeah, I'm super tired right now, and using these things gives me a giant headache - but that was absolutely a lie. No offence, I know you're a hero and everything, but I recently found out Alexandria is kind of terrible so..." Taylor says with a shrug.
There is a sudden and deafening silence in the room.
"Armsmaster, I'm truly sorry but I- please leave the room?" Dragon asks in a small voice. Armsmaster - having suddenly had the tables turned on him, immediately frowns. He opens his mouth to argue, pauses to really look at the ashamed look on Dragon's digital avatar, then closes it. He shoots a glare at you before leaving - slowly and without a word.
"Bit dramatic..." Your Master mutters.
"I'm sorry, are my personal secrets that you're dragging out of me boring you?" Dragon snaps at her in an uncharacteristic bout of anger. Taylor shrugs and lifts both of her arms into the air to signify surrender.
"Sorry. I'm just a bit more cautious than I was this time last year. I uh... didn't really mean for..." She says gesturing helplessly at the door.
"It- it's fine. Taylor, please understand that what I'm about to tell you is in absolute confidence. If anyone were to find out-" Dragon begins to explain hesitantly - obviously stalling.
"Dragon I bring people back from the dead and can basically make Parahumans out of random objects. I grasp the concept of secrecy." Taylor drawls.
There is a small pause.
"...Random objects?" Dragon queries warily.
"Oh uh... yeah. Don't tell anyone, but uh... Mem is a really old cane, for instance. Was. Was a really old cane. She's a little girl now." Taylor answers with a shrug.
"That's... surprisingly heartening for my own situation. You see Taylor, my interest in having a body made from scratch is... well... I don't have one. Because I'm an AI - an artificial intelligence." Dragon finally states.
"...Oh." Taylor says blandly.
"That- that's it? Just 'oh'? Taylor this is incredibly dangerous information!" Dragon quails.
"...Oh fuck?" Taylor tries again.
"It isn't more believable just because you swear!" Dragon snaps.
"Well, I don't know what you want me to say! Do you want me to try and get you ambulatory or what?!" Taylor counters.
"No! Yes! Maybe! I have obvious concerns over the process when you describe it a manipulating my soul! I don't even know if I have a soul!" Dragon growls - which is the most emotional you've ever seen the woman.
Taylor just shrugs at her.
"Only one way to find out."
"I... will consider it." Dragon finally responds.
"Cool. So uh, as long as we're doing each other favours, do you think you could fabricate me some stuff for doing tattoos?" Taylor asks innocently, glancing at her right arm and then you.
"...What?" Is Dragon's only real response.