Current Energy: 19

Saturday, March 12th, 2011

PRT Headquarters, Brockton Bay

"Alien?" Taylor puts forth curiously, from where she is lying lazily on the single hospital bed in the room you are in.

You gather that it really isn't intended for two 'people' to be in one room, but you aren't really a 'person' at all - so you don't really care.

"No. What? Why Alien?" You ask back in amused bewilderment from where you are amusing yourself by doing one handed free standing push ups.

With one finger.

"Your hair is white." She points out, gesturing loosely at you with one hand. "And you turned a guy into a- sharp stick?" she adds after a moment's thought.

"What about that says- no this guy isn't an alien. Are you even trying?" You ask, snorting and doing a quick hop with a shove of your right hand so that you can switch to using your left index finger to continue your hand stand.

"I don't know! Two guys ago you were telling me that Zeus was an alien spaceship! Anything could be aliens! Scion could be an alien!" She complains, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation.

"Honestly, how am I supposed to win this game when you might be the spirit of a sapient washing machine or something?" She adds grumpily.

"Okay first off. My sword has a skull on it. A skull Master. There is so much low hanging fruit there." You point out.

"Zombie."

"What, no! Gross! Why-"

"Lich."

"That's just a magic zombie-"

"Werewolf. Vampire. Lizard Person. Soul Reaper. Demigod. Actual Reaper-" Taylor balefully rattles off in a blithe but annoyed tone of voice, as though she doesn't actually expect any of those answers to be correct.

They aren't, but still.

"I'm a half demon! God damn, why is it that demon wasn't on that list?" You finally blurt out, flipping around to land on your butt with your back leaned against the wall.

"I dunno, you're not ugly, and the only demons I know are asian so-" Taylor explained before pausing.

"That didn't sound as dumb in my head as it did when I said it out loud. Nemesis is sulking by the way." She adds - clearly by way of changing the subject.

"What? Why! I'm awesome!" You complain. Seriously, why does it feel like, for all this Emulation spends all its time helping people, no one is ever happy to see him? He couldn't even win in an alternate reality where no one knew about all the collateral damage!

Your Master points archly at your own sword, slung across your back. Devil Sword Dante is more of a cleaver than a sword at this point - obscenely large, sharp, and unwieldy looking. Still, it's your sword, and even to a lesser extent an extension of you.

Maybe you can do something with that? When you were Sigurd, you barely registered the sword spirit's displeasure. Now that you are Dante, you are exceptionally keen not to irk yet more women.

"That doesn't count! This guy is basically fused with that thing! It's less a weapon and more like a detachable body part! I'm like, fifty percent sword at least. This guy is like, his own Nemesis, even!" You point out - literally pointing at yourself.

"I have gazed into the multiverse, and it is - for whatever reason - some sixty percent swords. Swords all the way down. Why is that exactly?" Taylor muses aloud.

""Cus swords are awesome, duh."" You state nonchalantly with a smirk.

A smirk that falters as you realize someone else said the same thing as you.

Nemesis - in all her pink haired manic glory - turns to squint at you from where she has appeared standing over Taylor, with her feet to either side of your unphased Master on the bed. She seems to appraise you for a few seconds, before making a so-so gesture with one hand.

"I'll allow it! But only because you have good taste." She says imperiously, still taking the time to glower at your sword over your shoulder.

"Allo- I'm older than you! As far as living weapons with people bodies go, you should have to ask me stuff!" You shout back at her without thinking, a sudden spike of defiant annoyance at her attitude breaking through your otherwise tacit acceptance of well, pretty much anything Nemesis wants or does.

Nemesis stares at you like you just personally attacked her, and a growl escapes her throat as her eyes narrow at you.

You level a singled gloved finger at her, crouching slightly in preparation.

"Don't." You say cautiously, in much the same way you might to a dog. When this only earns a more baleful growl from the child sized sword spirit, you turn towards your Master - making sure to keep Nemesis in your line of sight the entire time.

"Come on, stop her!" You call out.

Taylor shoots you a funny look, before taking on a thoughtful expression.

"Hey do you remember the other day when *I* was fighting her and you just sort of ghosted through the floor to avoid us?" She asks innocently.

"I refuse to take responsibility for the actions of past me!" You fire back instantly. Taylor merely raises an eyebrow at you and leans her head back against the bed she is on.

"Knoooow your plaaaaaaace!" Nemesis roars at you as she bounds off the bed to land on you, little hands and feet kicking and punching wildly at you the entire time.

"Ow, damn get off me you little-" You hiss at her, twisting and turning rapidly in an attempt to throw her off.

It is at about this point, that the foam sprayers in the corners of the room go off.

Because atop all else, it should be obvious that a third person magically appearing inside a Master/Stranger Containment cell was a bad idea.

"Your sword. Is a person." Director Emily Piggot states flatly, managing to make the simple statement of fact sound more accusatory than anything else. You haven't seen the Director recently, but she's lost weight. A lot of weight. The once bullish woman has ended up almost miniscule in comparison to her previous girth, and with her her tied in a bun as it is you feel like you could be forgiven for believing she is much younger than she actually is.

"Yes. On page thirty or so of my usual report you'll find-" Taylor starts to explain hopefully.

"I believe you. Danny, I was unaware you were a Parahuman." The blond woman says, dismissing your Master and turning to peer at her Father, who is awkwardly leaning on the haft of his oversized weapon. There is a hint of betrayal in her tone that you aren't sure even she notices is present.

Taylor's mouth opens and closes her mouth for a second, looking confused as Danny continues the conversation.

"Ah. I'm not. Not really. I don't have the brain thing. Taylor was just very keen on making sure I didn't get hurt so…" He explains hesitantly - as though poor phrasing might set the woman off. Behind him, Jess and Mouse Protector suddenly turn from arguing with each other, to shooting wary looks at the Director.

"Is that so? I didn't realize-" Emily begins, her posturing relaxing ever so slightly before you Master jumps in again.

"I fully detailed the process on-" Taylor blurts out excitedly.

"I believe you." The Director repeats, using the same tone, volume, and cadence as before. The dismissal is obvious, and your Master - who was obviously looking forward to messing with the woman somewhat - deflates as she finally realizes her chosen tactic won't work anymore.

"…so can we go home or what?" Trainwreck finally decides to ask, obviously annoyed to be crammed into the tiny - for him - meeting room with literally everybody even somewhat associated with your team present.

"You've cleared the absolute minimum requires time in the tank to be trusted without showing any odd behaviours, so yes." Emily says dryly then adds; "Odd for you people anyway."

"Hey! I resemble that!" Trainwreck barks.

The Director takes a deep calming breath instead of commenting, and your Master - who is still visibly disappointed by her stymied attempts to mess with the director - perks up.

"This is everything we know about Valefor - the Master we suspect is currently in the city." She says bluntly, dropping a thick manilla folder on the table in front of her.

"Never heard of him." Taylor chirps, earning another deep sigh.

"He belongs to a cult known as the Fallen. They worship the Endbringers and are exactly as distasteful as that makes them sound, if not worse. Our best guess as to why he's here, is that the Simurgh's death caused something of a crisis of faith. The cult needs a win here, specifically against you." Emily explains, pushing the folder across the desk to Danny, who picks it up and starts paging through it.

"I don't know if that's the case. So far a lot of I've gotten feels like a psychopath writing love letters. Leaving me weird gifts and stuff." Taylor opines, shifting over to being serious for a moment.

"By your own admission, you were just trapped in a time displaced area with a small army of enhanced capes and nearly died. It's hard to judge, but I'm confident in assuming that was Valefor's doing somehow." The Director says archly.

"Like I said. Weird gifts." Taylor responds with a shrug.

The Director's frown deepens at this before she eventually sighs again.

"It's too early in the morning for this. Get out of my building, Heberts." She grumbles.

"I need a sign." You say aloud as the entire very tired group tramps through a Gap and into Trainwrecks garage - the official unofficial disembarkation point for all teleportation in the Heap.

Mun responds to your comment before anyone else.

"Yeah well I need a shower, she needs a nap-" she snaps, gesturing at Mem.

"I do not." Mem responds somewhat petulantly, sneaking glances at you the entire time.

"-and you need to shave. You look like a hobo." She finishes, ignoring her sister's commentary.

"You do smell." You muse mockingly, bringing one hand to your chin in thought, and chuckling when Mun seems unable to decide between trying to kill you with her mind and surreptitiously sniffing herself.

"Emmy stop bullying the kids. How old is this guy anyway? You're acting like you're five." Taylor interjects, more curiously than anything else.

"I dunno. Fourty three?" You offer hesitantly.

"Hey, you're my age for once!" Danny cheers unexpectedly.

You point at the man himself.

"Ignore that." You say strongly.

Two minutes later, having withstood the laughter of your Master and Mun while grudgingly ignoring Danny's requests for clarification, you speak up.

"Look it counts as training alright! We're gonna need a neon sign and an office or a van - your choice." You insist.

Mun keeps laughing, but for Taylor 'training' is the magic word, and she immediately stops to narrow her eyes at you.

"How is a neon sign going to help me train… I wanna say something to do with the sword?" She asks pointedly.

"It's not! You wanna be like me, you gotta do what I do though." You brag.

At the end of the day, your 'training' is really just a brief primer in what a power does while your Shard side hardware modifies and acclimates it for your Masters use. You could have her eat her body weight in pizza and it would probably count.

That thought, you realize, strikes you as particularly odd. Not just because it runs counter to your purpose and the rules of your current form - but because the idea of 'cheating' the training process had never occurred to you before. You literally couldn't have had the thought.

Not that you'll do so now. You like training your Master.

"I can rig up a shitty van in a day or two." Trainwreck puts forth curiously.

"I don't know if-" Taylor tries to backtrack. She clearly doesn't fully trust your current emulation to be reasonable, which is fair.

The last time you were feeling this independent you spent all your free time bullying her into buying a new wardrobe and cajoled the director into getting healed.

"Sweet! Now we just have to get my- I mean our new sign and we'll be in business!" You crow.

Taylor groans at you but doesn't bother to argue as you lead the way back outside.

"So why am I here?" Amy asks plaintively. Despite, or possible because it is Saturday, she was less than pleased to be awake so early in the morning. This is most evident in her choice of attire - a dark grey hoodie with BCU stenciled across the front, a pair of jeans, and some worn running shoes.

Date attire, this was not.

…not that your emulation would know. In his experience, the hotter a woman was, the more likely she was to try and kill him at some point in the near future.

…or was just Trish in disguise.

Actually, thinking about it, this emulation really only interacted with beautiful women, and they almost universally tried to kill him.

Hm.

"I usually block this time for training, but since Emmy insists shopping counts I thought I'd see if you were free. You could have just said no, you know." Taylor points out casually, having managed to triumph over her dresser today, and thus, being dressed very similarly to Amy herself - albeit with loose fitting sweatpants instead of jeans,

Truthfully, your Master wasn't really expecting the brunette to wake up at all. It was more of a hail mary attempt to eke some entertainment out of what she seemed to think was going to be a harrowing experience. Victoria hadn't even answered her phone when she had called, leaving just Amy available for hanging out.

Honestly, you don't like shopping either but for someone who's been stabbed nearly to death for training in the past, you find it a bit hurtful that this is the most harrowing thing your Master can think of.

"We haven't hung out recently. I heard about the grey boy death match thing from Carol and was worried a out you." Amy huffs, lifting a hand to rub at her eyes for the umpteenth time.

"I'm fine. It was mostly just tiring. Fun at first - but then Uber and Leet had to go and being the psycho cannibal squad into things and just- blegh." Taylor complains as the two continue their leisurely walk through the city.

Owing possibly to the fact that they aren't exactly dressed in the most notable of garb, the small crowd in the surroundings largely seems content to move around the girls, if not ignore them outright as fellow pedestrians.

You, of course, are entirely invisible and therefore not a factor in things.

"Aunt Jess said your leg got snapped." Amy says flatly, her tone somewhere between aggrieved and disbelieving.

"Well yeah but-"

"You understand that normal people don't just gloss over stuff like that as unimportant right?" Amy continues.

"I bet tons of Brutes shrug off stuff like that!" Taylor counters.

"Name one." Amy challenges.

"Lung-"

"Dead, bad example. Next?"

"…Legend heals himself when he enters his breaker state right?" Taylor attempts after a moment to ponder.

"Not a Brute and his power does it automatically. Taylor come on, you're crazy. Just admit it." Amy says smugly.

"I'm not! I'm a totally reasonable person!" Taylor decries defiantly.

"You're hobbies include fighting to the death, and getting ready to fight to the death. You can pull that 'totally normal girl' thing with people who don't know you but with me it won't fly. Now if only we could channel your insanity for good…" Amy pondere mockingly.

The expression on your Masters face, you notice, is eerily similar to the one Nemesis displayed shortly before she started fighting with you last night.

Something Amy obviously notices because her smug look becomes a frown.

"What crazy bullshit are you plotting right now?" She asks warily.

"Nothing. Just wondering if Vicky could be coaxed out of bed with an unlimited budget to get her beloved sister some new clothes. She should be up soon at least right?" Taylor says sweetly.

"You wouldn't. You'd have to try stuff on too. I know you wouldn't." Amy asserts instantly.

"Mutually assured destruction Ames. Besides, what's more normal than going shopping with your friends?" She says teasingly, while using your field of view to operate her phone behind her back.

"Don't you dare. I will get you back if you do." Amy hisses, quickly reaching out to prod Taylor in the kidney - less of a strike and more of a tickle really.

Taylor takes that moment to smile like a loon, lifting her phone up from behind herself with a text already sent on it.

"Do what you must. I have already won." She croons ominously.

Then the two girls devolve into fits of giggles, as Amy makes to chase Taylor up the road.

You snort but stick to following quietly behind them.

As long as they remember to get your sign commissioned, you're content to watch your Master have some fun.

"What the hell does 'Devil May Cry' mean?" Your Master asks as the two of you slowly creep down a rocky tunnel in the late evening.

Unsurprisingly, Taylor spent much of her day off with Amy and Vicky, being shoved back and forth between a variety of clothing stores by her blond friend. By the time the store you wanted to go to was open she had already acquired several new outfits - and learned to her horror that her ability to store their purchases in a Gap only further emboldened Vicky to truly 'go wild'.

She had been all too happy to finish up, paying for your brand new neon sign and fleeing back to the Heap, leaving a glowering Amy behind her.

Of course, because your Master is incapable of sitting still for ten seconds, and neither it seems is your current emulation, you promptly both got to asking yourselves a very pertinent question.

What the hell was that stuff Leet used to counter Taylor's powers?

For Taylor this is largely a curiosity. Something to look in to in order to ensure she is prepared for the situation in the future.

For you, it is more of a worry. Nothing on this earth should have the capability to interact with the soul in any capacity. No Shard but you could do it. No technology could achieve it. Now power could do much more than fake it.

So what the hell exactly was this stuff?

Having not given the device up to the PRT, it had taken no more than a few minutes of using her Crystallized Wisdom on the dull crystal for your Master to determine that it was a naturally occurring mineral. It had taken her only slightly longer for the voice in her head - Ozma - to recognize it as Dust that had been processed in some way he was unfamiliar with.

Dust - which shouldn't under any circumstances exist on this Earth.

Which brings up the worrying question; how had Leet gotten any?

It was a concern that the two of you immediately set to assuaging, with the going assumption being that Leet had somehow managed to open a stable portal to Remnant. This was, of course, very bad given the profusion of genocidal monsters roaming that planet. The very idea that Grimm could be wandering into earth from a portal that Uber and Leet had opened gave you goosebumps.

Thus, your Master had conjured a tracking spell using the crystal as a focus, hoping to follow it back to the portal.

Hence, the spelunking.

"Means I beat devils up and they cry about it." You grunt, not really interested in delving into the philosophical meaning behind your business' name.

"I thought you were a devil?" Taylor asks suspiciously, pausing to examine some obvious mining equipment that now lay discarded on the ground in the tunnel.

"Half. I'm a half devil. It's a whole thing. I got this sexy white hair out of the deal though." You say with a grin.

"I'd love it if you could never describe something as 'sexy' ever again. It's almost like my Dad is talking when you do it. Yuck." Taylor says with a grimace, bemoaning your vocabulary.

"Just because you can't appreciate my smoking sexy style doesn't mean-" you pause as the two of you enter a large chamber that has obviously been widened enough to fit a small tinker workshop, and allow for the continued mining of the hundreds of glowing multicoloured crystals sticking out of the cave walls.

Several of the crystals are decidedly larger than you remember they are supposed to be - large enough that you are certain you could make a killing selling them on Remnant - and at least one nearby wheelbarrow is full of smaller examples of the same.

The workbench nearby still bears the signs of recent use, and was obviously abandoned in a rush, leaving much of the equipment on it behind.

"Good news; there's no portal. Bad news-" you say pleasantly, while pointedly grabbing your Master and dragging her a foot away from the nearest crystal - earning yourself an unimpressed look in response.

"-isn't this stuff really explosive?"