Current Energy: 14
Current Training: Right Hand of Destruction 7/10 - 9/10
Base Status
The Heap - Current Upgrades:
Tinkertech Castle
Friend or Foe Barrier
Friend In Need
Simple Shikigami Network
Wizard Tower
Friday, March 4th, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
There is a man in front of the Heap today.
He is not a particularly impressive looking man. In fact, if he were not explicitly standing arms akimbo in front of the entrance to the grounds, facing away from the building, and laughing insanely every few minutes, you likely would have never even been told he was there.
The day had gone pretty well up until this point too. Your Master - still somewhat stressed by her inability to vent with Amy - opted, ironically, to hide on the roof of the school during her lunch break. True, she could have technically just gone home for lunch, but apparently, the idea hadn't even really occurred to her until you pointed it out after lunch had ended.
Regardless, having managed to avoid most of the usual petty annoyances of the day, the two of you had retired to the Heap where the equipment your Master requested from Dragon was already set up. You suspect she must have rushed the order or fabrication somehow because you doubt you would have gotten any of it - much less the plush leather seat that came with it - the next day if it had been ordered through normal channels.
After a fairly relaxed afternoon working on your Masters tattoos, you had been quietly waved over by one of the Dockworkers, who had then reported the presence of… whoever this was.
Which is how you now find yourself standing a few feet to his right, invisible, and annoyed, as he mutters to himself. Upon closer inspection, it occurs to you that despite his otherwise mundane appearance - a pair of jeans and an unseasonable looking blue sweater - he has dozens of small devices festooned about his person that most certainly do not look normal.
So a Tinker then, not that it explains what he's doing here blocking traffic. In the handful of minutes you've been watching him, he's mostly just been standing here acting strange. Having made no attempt to enter the castle, or hurt anyone passing by, you're of half a mind to just ignore him until he goes away.
"Is the laugh too deep? I feel like it should be higher? Oh my god, this is stressful. Shouldn't she be here by now? She's in high school right? I seriously just want to get this over with. I mean, I'm totally going to be okay, because she's just some kid with more power than sense but-"
Or you were anyway. The minute he starts talking about your Master a spike of ire runs down your spine, and you quickly step forward and out of invisibility to clutch the top of his head in the vicelike grip of your right hand.
"Foolish Cape who dares defy the will of Master -" You intone solemnly as you prepare to… well not use your Right Hand of Destruction on him, because you don't actually want to murder the idiot, but certainly apply blunt force to him until he stops being conscious. You get about halfway through your usual judgement before an ear piercing shriek of terror accompanied by the distinct smell of urine cuts you off.
"Holy shit please don't kill me!" The suddenly horrified man blubbers at you.
You stare at him.
He stares back.
"...What are you doing here?" You finally ask, when he looks like he might literally start crying.
"I- I'm a Tinker!" He blurts out.
"I'm aware." You growl, tightening your grip on his skull.
"Ohmygodthatactuallyhurtsalot. I wanted to get some footage of my stuff being used on Nexus so people would buy it!" He screeches. People have begun to gather in the street around you now, watching in idle amusement, completely unbothered by the situation.
Honestly, you think these people might be a bit too certain in the Oathbound's ability to protect them.
"What does it do." You ask, stretching your free hand out towards the mans watch - the most obvious piece of Tinkertech on him. Surprisingly, unlike his snivelling attitude prior to this, he jerks it away from you before you can grasp it.
"None of your business!" he scowls at you. Since you can't actually tighten your grip any further without possibly injuring him, you retract the grasping hand and form a fist with it that looms large in the reflective surface of your victims eyes.
"You have just admitted to attempting to attack my Master." You point out.
"N-no! I uh, I mean sorta yeah but- p-please don't hurt me? I swear there's no way she'd get seriously hurt!" He babbles. You don't listen, because at this point you suspect it would just be easier to knock him out and wait for the PRT to arrive - which shouldn't be long now given the team of troopers that are perpetually parked at the edge of the property.
"They dissolve clothes! I was going to dissolve her clothes and take pictures because there's a huge market for pictures of capes with wardrobe malfunctions and whatthehellareyouevenhumanbecauseyoushouldn'tbeabletoliftmewithjustyourwristlikethisand-"
You were wrong. It would have been easier to kill him. Since that isn't on the table you just sort of… hold him there. Quietly. Until the PRT arrives.
"Ew." Is your Master's only real response to your explanation of the events in front of the building. By the time you catch up with her, she has already packed up most of your things - she insists the tattoo parlour that recently got built in the castle is yours - and has begun to walk the grounds, ostensibly to check on how everyone is doing, which she admits she hasn't done for some time now, but also because she finds it relaxing.
The Heap is one of the few places in the city where people are so accustomed to her presence that they can largely just ignore her when she passes, instead of stopping to gawk, take pictures, or otherwise pester her.
"I don't understand what he thought he was going to achieve." You admit with a frown. "At best, you would most likely have beaten him before he could blink, and at worst, his… intended goals… may have provoked you into a snap decision you would regret."
"You mean that he would regret it." Taylor corrects you absently.
"No. He wouldn't be regretting anything ever again. But you would certainly feel bad about it," you clarify.
"I wouldn't kill him!" Is your Masters indignant response.
You… don't dare offer your own response to that, since you would absolutely have killed him regardless, and instead cut the conversation short by ghosting through the wall of the Garage while your Master gets the door open to follow you.
"Seriously! I would be mad but there's no way I would murder a guy just for melting my clothes!" Taylor huffs after you, not willing to let it go.
"The fuck?" A new voice joins in, and you both turn to find Trainwreck already in the process of pulling what looks like a blunderbuss full of knives off of one of the walls.
"Hypothetically! It was hypothetical Wreck." Taylor quickly rushes to stop him, bounding over to get his attention.
The large tinker squints at your Master for a moment, before slowly returning his weapon of choice to its position amongst his collection of improbable murder weapons.
"So what are we talking about then? Cus the Boss is underage, and hypothetically anyone who wanted to be cheeky about that could hypothetically be in real danger. Not from me or nothin' just in general. Hypothetically." Trainwreck drawls.
"'The Boss' is standing right here big guy. You don't have to talk about me like I'm not in the room." Taylor grumps at him.
"Sssh, the adults are talking sweety." Trainwreck says blandly, lifting one giant metal hand to pat your Master on the head while turning to maintain eye contact with you. It is an action that - for anyone else - would carry a serious risk of snapping their neck even under an incidental amount of the weight at play, but with Taylor, Trainwreck has nothing to be concerned about.
"You know, you're lucky I consider this an endearing character trait and not something to get offended over." Taylor pouts, swatting his hand away as if it were a normal human hand and not over a thousand pounds of wrought iron.
"Boss, I dunno how to tell you this, but I got so much heavy weaponry and shit in this room that I could rename myself to Warcrime pretty convincingly. The fact that you think that's 'cute' at best is exactly why I know I can get away with this shit." Trainwreck points out.
"Yeah well- hey what's that?" Taylor starts before pausing to glance past Trainwreck at something he has obviously been working on at the center of his half of the garage - which at this point is so festooned with scrap and weaponry that its starting to spill over into the clean half of the room.
"Nothin' don't worry about it." Trainwreck says quickly, backpedalling to put himself between both of you and the early framework of what looks like a female version of his armor.
When neither you nor your Master say anything right away, he glances to the side, avoiding your gazes.
"It's uh… a surprise." He offers lamely.
"Uh...huh…" Taylor hums, clearly unconvinced.
"Hey! Uh, Parian had some shit she wanted to ask you about, so you should go bother- check in on her!" Trainwreck blurts out, hurriedly spinning around to lift his project up so he can bury it under a pile of scrap.
"Sure…" Taylor hedges, still clearly trying to peer around him.
"Listen kid, what I do in my me time ain't none of your business." Trainwreck complains.
Your Master shrugs and lets it go, although you can see that she is clearly worried for her much larger friend. It isn't as though your Master is unaware of Trainwrecks loneliness - she just isn't quite sure what to do about it.
The last thing you hear as you exit the room is Trainwreck muttering to himself, quietly enough that you doubt anyone would hear it if it weren't for the borderline superhuman capabilities of the average Ishvalan.
"Yeah I know I'm a shit liar, fuck you too-"
"Trainwreck said you wanted to talk to me?" is the first thing your Master asks after the two of you make your way past the fairly sizable number of people perusing the boutique. At first, it had been a trial to navigate, busy as it was, but once people realized who they were blocking, things… well they didn't get better per se. Mostly, people just crowded your Master to ask her questions. Or to see what she thought of their outfits - as if your Master knew even the first thing about fashion.
So naturally, your Master had opted for the most socially awkward possible response to all the unwanted attention. She had created a Gap to move the twenty feet into the back room, where she had come upon a surprised but accepting Sabah.
"Taylor! Yes, I had been hoping to ask you something…" The dark-skinned girl responds, lifting a hand to push some of her hair out of her face as she is not currently wearing her costume. It was somewhat amusing for you to think about, but she had effectively hired her civilian identity to run the store for her - giving her an excuse to walk around without the extremely warm clothes that constitute her costume.
"I'm sensing a 'but'" Taylor offers with a frown. Sabah smiles woodenly at her, confirming the statement.
"You… might not like it." She says sheepishly.
"Are… are you leaving?" Taylor says suddenly, in a small voice.
There is an awkward pause, and then-
"Yes."
"O-oh. I guess… with everything settling down…" Taylor says, though you can tell she is experiencing a roil of emotions, most of them synonymous with sorrow.
"It- it will only be for a little while! Boston isn't that far away!" Parian blurts out, leaving your Master blinking in the middle of trying to hold back tears.
"W-what?" She says, dazed.
"I was invited to have some of my designs in a fashion show! I know it's short notice but it's next week and I really think this could be good for my career so-"
"No- wait- your not leaving the team?" Taylor cuts in, befuddled. This time it's Sabah's turn to look confused.
"No! Why would you think that?! I just wanted to get permission to leave for a few days next week. Trainwreck already fixed the patrol schedule so I thought…" She trails off.
The two girls stare at each other.
"This… this is quite awkward." Sabah states eventually.
"Y-yeah." Taylor mumbles before brightening. "Uh, you don't really need my permission to go places? I don't own you or anything."
"Yes, well. You are my leader so…" Sabah mumbles.
"Do you want me to um… drop you off? And pick you up when you're done? I can… make a tag?" Taylor offers, miming the slicing motion she uses to create Gaps.
"If it's not too much trouble," Sabah offers meekly.
"Great! So…"
There is another awkward silence, the misunderstanding apparently enough to throw off even your otherwise unshakeable Master.
Then Sabah lifts a finger into the air again and blurts out -
"Can I take Oliver with me?"
The answer your Master ends up coming up with is 'maybe'. It isn't so much that she refuses to help at all, it is just that she isn't sure Oliver would want to be a model in some kind of runway fashion show.
Admittedly, she is also somewhat offended that she isn't being asked to model herself, but she is more than aware of the fact that the handful of powers she has increasing her physical health and attractiveness would make for an unfair advantage, and in many cases, would likely overshadow the clothes she would be wearing. Since the entire point is for Sabah to showcase her efforts, it's obvious to you that your Master wouldn't have wanted to do that to her in the first place.
But your Master is a teenage girl, and so she is at least slightly upset about it, even if she doesn't allow that to show on her face as she tries to find Oliver in the castle.
Hence, the mood she is in when you do eventually find Oliver is somewhat teasing.
"Okay, so feeling good about myself makes me bigger. But feeling shitty doesn't make me shrink, because if it did I would dematerialize into atoms and die. Good built-in safety feature Oliver. Why thank you Oliver I… didn't think of it myself. But I would have if I was the designer. Should I call Mads? I feel like she could help me with this." The blonde boy is saying as you find him, standing in the middle of an empty room, talking into a large mirror he has leaned against one wall. As he speaks, his form swells and shrinks appropriately, and it isn't lost on you that at several points when his head should smack into the ceiling it just… doesn't. You aren't sure if that's a result of his powers, or just the Heap being bizarre again.
You also aren't sure how much that really matters presently, as you and your Master watch the boy from the doorway into the room - not having been noticed by him just yet.
"...'Kay, this isn't working." Oliver eventually says slumping as his form equalizes at a normal size.
Then he jolts upright again as your Master walks into the room, making a weird humming sound you don't immediately recognize to get his attention.
"So what's the problem Oli? Maybe I can help?" She says as she approaches. Your Master is many things, but among them, she has always failed at subtlety. It is with this in mind that you force yourself not to comment or react when she visibly pans her gaze over Oliver, who despite not being someone she presently views as a romantic interest, does look very good - largely as a side effect of his power. They share that, he and your Master. The only difference is that where your Master accepts it for what it is, Oliver seems to derive nothing but insecurity from it.
"Did you just 'ara ara' me? No, wait- I mean, I dunno. I think I just have to work this out for myself." Oliver mumbles before blurting out. Your Master - who clearly has no idea what he means - tilts her head to one side before responding.
"Still. What's the problem?" She asks, pulling her feet up so she is sitting cross-legged in the air in front of her teammate.
Oliver opens his mouth as though he is going to answer her purely out of habit, then clicks his jaw shut again.
"Sorry Taylor, but I really need to do this myself. I don't think you can help." He repeats stubbornly. Taylor's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
"You know Oli, I really like that about you." She says idly, ignoring the look of sheer confusion on the boys face as she speaks.
"I mean, hearing your whole story, your life makes my life seem like a fairy tale. You stuck with your friends even when you really didn't need to, you took personal responsibility for the things they did even though you were mostly just around, and you had the gall to walk right up to me when you knew I would have every reason to smear you across the nearest mountain range, and ask for help anyway. Your loyal, I guess is what I'm saying. Your only mistake was being loyal to the wrong people." Taylor muses aloud, and you can feel a burgeoning sense of deep amusement emanating from her as she rest her elbow on her knee and her chin in her palm.
Because with each word your Master speaks, Oliver grows.
"That- I mean- I don't think I'm uh... I didn't have like, a choice so-" He blubbers, covering his face with his massive hands to hide the creeping red blush crawling up his neck.
"Uh-huh. Anyway, sorry I can't help you Oli, it's a shame 'cus you're pretty cute when you aren't depressed." Taylor drawls, sticking her finger out to point at him, and causing him to finally look down at himself.
"C-Cu- Oh! I'm big! And… and I'm not shrinking! Yes!" Oliver yells, too distracted by his success to dwell on your Masters previous comment.
"I feel like Trainwreck would have something to say about that, but as a woman of culture I refuse to make it for him," Taylor jokes.
"Thanks, I love the guy but he's not great for this kind of thing." Oliver offers sheepishly.
"Mm. Anyway, I came to let you know that you're free to go to Boston with Sabah next week if you want to help her out." Taylor explains, stretching and then allowing herself to return to a standing position.
"Oh I uh, I honestly thought you had like, old master senses or something," Oliver admits. Taylor lifts an eyebrow at him.
"You know like, how in movies the teacher always knows exactly when they have to show up so the hero can get a piece of advice or a power up or something?" Oliver rushes to clarify.
"Nope. Pure coincidence." Taylor says with a grin, before pausing.
"Hey, who's Mads?"
"You are surprisingly unbothered by the presence of one of your old bullies in Huntsmans life." You point out as the two of you finally approach the Dojo.
"She wasn't really the worst of them. Emma is sitting in a cushy room at the Protectorate Headquarters right now, so I don't really have much of a reason to care about Madison." She replies airily.
"But we're still going to the Dojo. So you can fight Aspirant." You continue, the 'to blow off steam' inherent in the statement goes unstated but, you are sure, is understood.
"Well, I saw everyone else, didn't I? Be a shame to just ignore him. Besides, I haven't heard about him going back to school yet, so I figure I might have to beat the stupid out of him like he wants." Your Master says casually, which sends a chill down your spine - because you really don't think that was a euphemism. She really does intend to beat him up until he sees reason.
"That's… fair…" You hedge as the two of you pass through the entryway and into a room full of women performing katas while Aspirant watches on from the front of the room. He notices your presence pretty much instantly, and quietly switches off with another woman who takes his place yelling the different forms and stances while he walks over to you.
"Taylor. Is there something going on?" Aspirant asks you in a pleased tone, obviously having been having a good day prior to this.
"Nah, I just wanted to check in. Want to spar a bit while we talk?" Taylor asks innocently, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
"Of course. How are you?" The most placid member of your team asks as the two of them walk past everyone else into a smaller room in the back.
"The usual. Some weirdo tried to ambush this morning, but I guess he didn't realize I usually take a Gap into the Heap because he just stood in front of the grounds until Emmy beat caught him. Quarter speed?" Taylor says with a shrug, before making a suggestion.
"The security guards didn't catch him?" Aspirant asks, nodding at her and taking a stance in the center of the room.
"Those guys are just normal Dockworkers - I wouldn't ask them to deal with anything but normal people, and this guy was weird enough that I guess they assumed he must be a parahuman. They were right so, no big deal." Your Master answers with a shrug, before launching a fairly lazy attack at Aspirants head that he deflects before countering with strike of his own.
"Hm. That implies any villain could simply walk in if they chose to not wear a costume, and somehow managed to bypass the stranger effect on the grounds." Aspirant frowns as he and your Master continue to exchange slow but methodical strikes - more a test of each other's form and skill than of raw physical ability.
"I'll see if I can cook something up. When are you going back to school?" She asks blandly, which causes Aspirant's movements to stutter slightly, allowing her to land a light blow to his chest that none the less, lacks the force required to actually hurt the other Cape.
"W-well I did speak to my parents, and they don't mind me staying on the team so-" Aspirant offers weakly as he fails to block another harmless strike to the side of his head.
"I didn't ask about your parents, I asked about school. You can't just drop out Jamie, you need an education or something. Im not telling you to go to Harvard, just finish Highschool." Taylor chastises him before flowing into a series of movements that leave Aspirant laying on his back with her foot on his chest.
"Don't make me act like I'm your Mom, it sucks." She grumps at him.
"...Agreed. I will speak to my parents and return to classes by Monday." He replies begrudgingly, grasping the hand your Master offers him to help him to his feet.
"Great! Because if you don't, Im never just going to actually fight you ever again. Just this slow boring stuff where I spend the entire time nagging you like we're married and you forgot to buy milk. Wanna head to the courtyard and cut loose?" Your Master dictates before smiling crookedly at her fellow martial artist, who stares at her blankly.
"...Yes," is his only response.
Finally, having spent the better part of her afternoon hanging around the castle, your Master decides to finish out her evening with gratuitous amounts of reality warping magic.
She marches with great purpose through the halls, until she makes it to the Wardstone, and its accompanying round table, before taking a seat in front of the object - which has long since ceased to look like a pleasantly shaped rock, and become a glowing beacon of pure mystical might that you are afraid to look at let alone touch.