Current Energy: 6
Current Training: Warrior Monk 9/10 - Complete!
Thursday, March 10th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
"I've got it!" Your Master yells excitedly.
You can feel the palpable sensation of pleasure and satisfaction she is feeling at having figured out… whatever it is she has figured out. In a general sense, you are happy for her - because her joy, is your joy.
And yet, you find it hard to express or feel any kind of pleasure at the moment, because while all of the above is true, so too is the fact that you were quite deeply asleep at the time that she said it.
Thus, when she yells excitedly, your eyes fly open, and you nearly concuss yourself against the wall you are leaning on in a reflexive attempt to escape the sudden loud noise.
"…Good morning to you too." You grunt back at your Master, who is looming over you with her arms akimbo as she smiles nastily down at you. Behind her, you can clearly see Nemesis snickering at you from atop the bed, and rather than looking chastised by your annoyed look, the sword spirit clearly snickers louder at you.
"I figured Meditating out. It's like sleeping but you don't dream."
It absolutely is not.
"That's… nice…" you say carefully edging sideways so you can get out from beneath your Master to stand up.
Seemingly having expected the response, Taylor shuffles along with you, handily blocking your escape routes and continues to speak - all the while smiling down at you.
"Yup! It's actually really unpleasant - sleeping without something you expect to be there, I mean." She adds pointedly.
"…you get used to it eventually." You offer.
"I'd rather not." She responds pointedly.
"Are we… still talking about meditation?" You ask slowly, noticing that Nemesis has transitioned to pouting at you.
"No." Is your Masters singular response.
"I'm a grown man. It would be inappropriate." You point out, having chosen to sleep on the floor in a corner of the room for exactly that reason.
"Emmy I love you, but you're super dumb sometimes. If you didn't want me to get used to having a human sized teddy bear to sleep with, you shouldn't have done it in the first place. I'd have a hard time sleeping without you even if you were a sentient vending machine. You're not a dog - I don't like it when you sleep in the corner. You're my best friend, and we're probably going to be together for the rest of my life, so do me a favour and next time - just get in the bed." She explains at length, hissing the last words at you.
"…what if I don't want to sleep in the bed?" You point out, referencing your Masters continual insistence that you are your own person against her.
"Then don't - but that's not why you aren't doing it, and we both know it. Forget this guy's hang ups for a second. You aren't Scar. You're Emmy. And whenever you think you can get away with it you totally do it." She returns easily.
Examining your thoughts on the matter you are dismayed to find that she… isn't wrong. Taylor is the most important person in the world to you, and the web of connections and friendships you've made through her have created a sort of 'comfort zone' that you hadn't realized you'd fallen in to. At some point, you stopped being interested in conflict, fighting, winning, or even really defending anything. You just wanted what you had to go on forever. You are at your most comfortable, no, your most happy, when things are as they should be. When the kids are at the table having breakfast, when your Master is happy and without care, when Nemesis drools on your shoulder in her sleep.
They are your family, and you love them.
And that thought is highly disturbing and at odds with the nature of your shard self, even with what you perceive to be tacit acceptance of your direction in life.
So, looking up at your Master, you smile gently and speak.
"Okay."
Thursday, March 10th, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
"Okay but, hear me out, what if instead of going on patrol you, uh, bake a magic cake that never runs out? Solve world hunger! That seems like a thing you would do for no reason, right?" Clockblocker rapidly belts out as he rushes to keep up with your Master while she stomps through the Castle.
"I - actually, Emmy write that down, infinite cake sounds like a fun birthday present." Taylor begins to answer before turning to you and speaking.
You blink once, then sidestep into the path of one of the dockworkers on his way to do… something… renovation based inside the castle, stopping the poor man cold.
"I need a pen." You pause, then speak again; "Also something to write on. With a pen." You amend.
"I wasn't being literal." Taylor snorts before turning back to Clock, while the concerned looking worker rapidly draws a pencil and notepad from within his overalls and hands them to you - then power walks away.
"Anyway, maybe later. I don't see the big deal - other heroes patrol all the time." She huffs, coming to a stop in the middle of the hallway.
"Okay, yes, but uh…" Clockblocker stops and looks around, as though searching for a way to explain something.
"Oh, okay look - if Fugly Bob was walking around downtown - would you recognize him?" He asks pointedly.
"I'm more of a Big Rico's kinda gal-" Taylor says jokingly.
"Please don't steal my thing. I'm flippant - you're scary. Let's stick with that." Clock sighs out in exasperation.
"Is Fugly Bob even a real person? I thought he was more of a mascot - like the Burger King or -" She continues.
"Taylor. Please." Clock begs.
"Fiiine." She pouts before answering the original question. "I don't even know what Fugly Bob looks like."
"Right, exactly! But if the President were walking around nearby you'd definitely be worried right?!" He puts forth.
"More curious than anything, but I guess so." Taylor admits.
"And which of those two examples do you think you count as?" Clock continues, now happy that his explanation appears to be getting through to her.
"The armed forces." Your Master responds casually.
"Y- No! How do you even- explain." Clock groans.
"Force projection. Someone hurt one of my people-" she starts.
"You don't even like that girl." Clock complains.
"Someone hurt one of my people emotionally." She amends, referring to Oliver. "So now I have to go make sure everyone knows what happens when they do that." She explains with a shrug.
"Kind of Gang Boss sounding there Taylor." Clock warns her worriedly.
"It's only a Gang if you make profit from crime. It's a Business if you profit normally. We don't actually make any money here - I donate all of it out of pocket - which means we qualify as a Non Profit or a Union depending on who you ask." She returns with a smile.
"I feel like you've put more thought into the difference than someone who isn't a Gang Boss should have." Clock jokes back.
"It works for the PRT." Your Master says ominously before patting Clock on the shoulder, cleaving a gap open, and stepping through it.
"Huh. So that's what being scaroused feels like." He mutters under his breath.
"You realize she did that just to make a dramatic exit, and is only a few doors that way, yes?" You point out to him.
"…well now I do."
"Emmy, stop explaining my mysterious ways to people!" Your Master sends to you.
"That's the part you want to comment on?" You ask her incredulously.
"Yes. Why, did Clock say something else?" She asks eagerly.
"…No, Master. No he did not." You respond tiredly.
Thursday, March 10th, 2011
The Docks, Brockton Bay
"Wreck, I feel like we could do this better." Taylor notes absently, pausing in front of a convenience store to examine one of the old flyers stuck to the door. Reflected in the clear glass window of the business, are you, Trainwreck, Aspirant, and your Master - all fully decked out in Cape attire.
"Fuck's that mean? You got the whole team out and about. Huntsman and Parian are up north, we're here, the creepy birds are all over the place-" Trainwreck complains, gesturing around himself.
The streets are entirely empty, with not a soul in sight save for your group and the pigeons ominously lining the rooftops nearby, periodically taking flight and landing nearby again when you walk too far away from them. The cashier of the convenience store is staring through the front window at your Master in a manner most disconcerting, as though he is terrified - but not of her. Rather, he moves to immediately glance up and down the street nearby the minute he registers your presence - before politely flipping the 'open' sign on the door to 'closed'.
You are unsure if your Master notices this behaviour, or even really cares, but she is acting as if she doesn't. They all are.
"No I mean - we're pretty much just taking a leisurely walk up the street. It brings back memories of when we first got together and all, but it's not very impressive to look at." She replies lazily, turning to continue her trip through the Docks, quickly followed by the rest of you.
"I dunno, I mostly associate back then with the Nazi Apocalypse thing that was going on back then. Was fun though." Trainwreck admits.
"Right? Still I just feel like we should have a car or something. Maybe a blimp?" She muses aloud.
"Blimps are a Nazi thing. I talked to Danny about getting the trains up and running again though. Figured I could slap a mass driver in a rail car and have the tracks run my big gun over to me in an emergency." Trainwreck says.
"That feels excessive." Aspirant points out, finally joining the conversation.
"We should totally do it." Taylor adds.
Both members of her team turn to stare at her at that.
"No can do Boss. Danny says we don't own the tracks or the station the trains used to stop at." Trainwreck replies.
"What about the Ferry?" Aspirant pipes up.
"It's a boat - how are we supposed to patrol in it." Trainwreck counters.
"How did you intend to do the same in a train? I thought we were talking about weapons platforms." Aspirant shoots back.
"Still wouldn't work. It'd be limited to the coast." Trainwreck answers.
"…what if I made it fly?" Taylor interjects.
They both turn to her again.
"I get to name it!" Trainwreck immediately yells.
"I get to- damn." Aspirant sighs.
"Purely hypothetical, guys." Taylor reminds them.
"Well hypothetically, I'd name it the Last Chance." Trainwreck says sarcastically, lifting his hands to mime quotation marks around the name.
"That's… surprisingly lacking in innuendo or swear words. Quick, Taylor, check the tag you gave us - he must be Mastered." Aspirant deadpans.
Much to Trainwrecks chagrin, she does actually lean over to observe the metallic pendant hanging from his waist.
"No look - at the point where the Boss is calling in a floating weapons platform, you got two options. Surrender, or get wrecked. So it's, you know - a last chance to pussy out." Trainwreck explains himself - somewhat petulantly.
"I rescind my last statement." Aspirant concedes.
Suddenly, one of the many pigeons nearby flutters down to land on your Masters shoulder, coos in a strange pattern, and then takes off again.
"Anything?" Trainwreck asks hopefully.
"Gambling den. No drugs or women. Set up in the back of an abandoned grocery store. Don't think it has anything to do with the situation - but I did promise to make an example of someone." Taylor answers lightly, skipping slightly ahead of the other two and opening a Gap.
"Shall we?" She says with a malicious pleasantness in her tone.
Thursday, March 10th, 2011
Uptown Brockton, Brockton Bay
As a group, the Oathbound ruthlessly crushed a half dozen fronts for various forms of crime. One might think that the utter destruction of the previous gangs, in addition to everything else people now know about your Master, might be enough to prevent organized crime from existing in a city.
Unfortunately, that simply wasn't true.
To hear your Master explain it, completely eradicating crime isn't technically possible without trampling on a number of human rights. More so than that, the lack of major Parahuman lead gangs has opened the way for all kinds of normal criminals to return to prominence. The Mafia, the Triads, groups that had been largely destroyed or consumed by Parahuman lead rivals have resurfaced, free to make a profit so long as they didn't draw Taylors attention.
After all legally speaking, no Parahumans meant no PRT involvement. The regular police, for the first time in many years, had to do the bulk of the heavy lifting, unless a heroically aligned parahuman felt like getting personally involved.
This has led to - among other things - a strange gentrification of the criminal class. There is an unspoken agreement to stick to 'soft' crime. Gambling rings, and loan sharks were fine - those suffered fines more often than anything else. Prostitution was present - but only under the auspices of willing participants, who often worked together to form smaller 'businesses' together. Drugs, Gun running, or any kind of overtly violent activity was frowned on, and often dealt with 'in house'. Ultimately, much of the Empire's power base still existed in the city - it had just splintered and stopped pretending to be anything but what they were.
Petty criminals.
So ultimately, the city wasn't free of crime. It had just attracted a less obtrusive flavour of criminal.
And today those criminals had learned that even on their best behaviour, they weren't necessarily safe. Just ignored.
Or so it was supposed to go.
Presently, you and your Master are in Uptown Brockton, following a tracking spell to Oliver - who neglected to return to the heap with Parian at the appointed time to do so.
You find him - eventually - standing atop the Medhall building of all places. He is positioned with his rifle aimed outward, and is giving off an unpleasant and ominous air that you - again - are uncomfortably familiar with. As you arrive - largely unnoticed by the hyper focused Huntsman - he cycles the action on his weapon, and pauses with one hand hovering over one of your Masters non-lethality tags. For just the briefest of moments, it seems as though he won't use it, and your Master moves to call out to him.
"Hu-" She begins, only for him to quickly rip the tag in half, crouch down, and then leap bodily into the air over the city below using all of his enhanced strength. For a moment - just a fleeting moment - it looks as though he is attempting to commit an extremely extravagant form of suicide.
Then he begins to grow. First to just over two meters tall. Then bigger, and bigger, until the only thing preventing him from crushing all the buildings in his vicinity is his sheer size.
This is when the first shot rings out, not with the anemic pop of a normal firearm, but with all of the thundering fury of a mortar cannon. Enhanced by his Aura - which visibly drains until it is nearly gone - the rounds from his already oversized rifle raining down with perturbing accuracy on a building not to far away from where you currently are.
"Is he shelling a building?" You ask your Master uncomfortably, as your erstwhile teammate rapidly shrinks down to his normal size to land on another building with a loud crunch.
You aren't sure if that was the sound of the building's roof cracking under his impact, or something much worse for the usually nervous boy's health, but either way, he completely ignores it in favour of making a beeline for the building he just ruthlessly bombarded.
"Looks like it." Taylor responds equally uncomfortably, her eyes - which are much keener than your own - tracking her teammate as he moves into the distance well past when you cease being able to see him.
"Should we… stop him?" You ask, feeling a sudden, very strong aversion to this entire situation.
"Let's… see where he's going first." She says, suddenly very tired sounding.
"But-" You start to say.
"I get where he's coming from okay? We were pretty aggressive when we started out, remember?" She says, though you can feel some degree of shame from the admission.
"The circumstances were different." You counter.
"And if I thought he was going to kill someone, I'd stop him. Come on." She negates, ripping open a Gap for you but opting to follow Huntsman manually across the rooftops.
When you emerge from the other end of that Gap, it is clear some time has passed, because Huntsman is standing in the middle of what might as well be an abandoned parking lot for all that's left of the building he attacked. There are downed and wounded people everywhere, and he is rapidly rushing about the area - not bothering to help the people, just ripping up debris and growling at himself when there isn't anything of note there.
Except drugs. There are detonated and punctured bags of some kind of drug all over the place - but that clearly isn't what he's looking for.
"Huntsman." Taylor calls out to him from nearby, only to be ignored as your teammate continues to sift recklessly through the remains. She frowns at him, glances at a nearby victim of Oliver's current rampage, then sighs.
"Huntsman!" She calls to him again, louder now as she waves a hand at the debris - causing most of it to hover up into the air, and freeing all of the crippled and unconscious people underneath.
Oliver pauses in his activities, though you think that pause is more a result of the changed situation than actually a response to your Master.
"Oliver, if I have to knock you out to take you home I'm going to be very unhappy." Taylor repeats in the cranky tone of mothers everywhere administering to unruly children.
"...I've got this spot covered. I heard there was a place up the street that-" Oliver starts to say stiffly, not fully turning around to face either of you.
"You aren't going to find whoever hurt Madison by doing this, you know." Taylor sighs, walking up to stand with her teammate. It is an eerie sight to see her so casual in the midst of such destruction, even more so with the sound of sirens telling you that the police are likely already enroute.
"I don't have to. If there's no more criminals than somewhere in the middle I have to catch them." He says coldly.
"Olly-" Taylor tries again.
"What do you care?! You hated her anyway!" He screams at her, earning a poleaxed look from her that breaks your heart.
"Huntsman. Enough." You say, stepping around your Master and staring down at the blond boy. You like Oliver, you really do. He's your Master's friend, and to a lesser extent, yours.
But if he lashes out at your Master one more time, you might just do something you'll regret.
"You used to work for a villain. You snuck into our home, and lied to us because your friends asked you to. Master let you stay with us. Helped you. And made you strong. Between that girl and yourself, who do you think we should hate more?" You query angrily.
"That's- I'm not-" Oliver stutters at you clearly thrown off by your tone and words.
"Olly even if you don't think I care about Madison - you know I care about you right?" Taylor says in a small voice, demonstrating more vulnerability than you have seen from her in some time.
"...oh." Oliver returns in an equally small voice - as though he just experienced a great epiphany.
"...If you wanna go home I'll talk to the cops and…" She pauses, glancing at all Huntsman's victims. "... heal some of these guys I guess."
"I…" Oliver stops to look around, seemingly only just now fully taking in what he has wrought.
"I'll stay. It was my fault." He finally says awkwardly.
"Cool." Taylor says.
"Cool…" Oliver fires back.
The two stare at each other awkwardly some more.
'Well', you think, as ambulances, fire trucks, and other emergency services start to arrive. 'At least things are mostly back to normal.'