"Look you've seen my samples and- no I don't think using tinkered material in dresses runs into Nepea-5 because I'm not crowding you out of the market. No, because you couldn't do this without me, and Nepea-5 only applies to things a normal business could achieve but that a Parahuman can achieve better and-" Sabah explained, probably for the fifth time in the last week, why the organizer of the fashion show she was arranging to attend should shut the hell up about Nepea-5.
She had been planning for this for weeks now. Ever since her team had nominally slain the Simurgh she had felt like this was the perfect time to make her big debut. She would have, of course, preferred to shoot for an event closer to the peak of their notoriety, but it wasn't as though she could pull an entire line of clothes, models, and approved attendance out of nowhere.
Sabah, or Parian, as many people in Brockton Bay knew her, had never given up on what she had originally wanted out of being a Cape. She never wanted to fight - even though she found herself doing it with alarming regularity - she had wanted to subvert expectations. She had wanted to present herself, with her doll like exterior, in one way - and then whip off her mask on stage to show why you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. She wanted to challenge the assumptions people made about capes all the time.
The fact that she was a middle eastern woman in the Nazi capital of America at the time made this exceptionally difficult, but in the end, it had… mostly… worked out for her.
"Because my boss can buy your boss and also- no that wasn't a threat! I did not, at any point, insinuate that Nexus would do anything violent if you reject me." She spit out through gritted teeth.
Honestly, this entire argument was just stupid. She had already been accepted to this event. She had already provided her list of models, samples of her work, photographs of the clothes, and even began working with the lighting crew about how she wanted things presented.
Unfortunately, someone higher up than whoever had approved her had taken a sudden interest in her attendance.
Thus the argument.
"Wha- no I don't want to calm down and talk about this after you've deliberated! I've already been accepted! Just let me-" She paused, pulling her cell phone away from her ear to stare blankly at her cell phone screen - which now read 'Call Ended' - and had to resist the urge to scream in impotent fury.
Tiredly, she tamped down her rage to stare at the room around her. Trainwreck had made it for her, and while it wasn't the most advanced piece of tinkertech ever - she still loved it dearly.
The entire room, every wall and most of the ceiling, was made up of row upon row of mechanized spindle. Each one contained a different type of thread, or a different kind of fabric. Special machinery that she could manipulate with her power allowed her to measure and cut things without looking at it - so long as she knew what she was doing.
Here, ensconced in her work room, she felt like a spider sitting at the center of its web. Capable of pulling all the materials required to craft a new piece towards her on a whim. The entire set up worked specifically with her power to allow her to prototype and craft things at multiple times the speed she normally would be able to, and dozens of times faster than a normal seamstress might.
Carefully, she had the machinery rearrange part of one wall so that her prized possessions were visible. Five bolts of cloth that were the product of dozens of hours of effort. Each one enchanted down to the individual fiber making it up. The sheer amount of transmutation, micro control, and otherwise pseudo magical bullshit that had gone into making them was enough that she almost regretted the effort Taylor had put forth to make them for her.
Almost.
The results were five bolts of cloth that perfectly mimicked the properties and appearance of the elements when 'activated'. Clothing made with the stuff had a 'normal' appearance, and an 'active' appearance, which it switched between based on the wearer's intent. And from each of these she had crafted some of the most beautiful clothing imaginable. Not just a dress that took inspiration from the colors and patterns of flame, but a dress that was pure flame, lapping harmlessly at its wearer and its surroundings.
And it was durable. Almost enough so as to qualify as its own Brute rating for anyone wearing it. It was the kind of Cape fashion that was normally impossible to reproduce. Something that would usually be specific to a person's power - like Purity's ability to wreathe herself in light.
And for all that, she was essentially stymied by the whims of an executive somewhere who had probably seen her photos and was stone walling her for fear of upsetting someone else at the show with her clearly superior designs.
She contemplated the cloth for a moment, itching to just play with it, to experiment with what she could do - but unwilling to waste her limited stock of the product. She had just about reached the point where her interest out weighed her caution - when a brief knock on the door drew her attention.
"…yes?" She called out.
The door opened to reveal one of the women from Aspirants dojo. Contrary to popular belief, they weren't all Asian. In fact, only about a third of them were. The ABB had known better than to forcibly recruit too many from their own ranks. Sabah had sought to hire people to help her man the store when she was busy - which was most of the time really - but rather than actually go through the hiring process she had simply found several of the women taking turns at it within about a day of bringing it up.
She wasn't sure if someone had arranged it for her, if Taylor or Aspirant had politely suggested it to them, or if Danny had somehow arranged the hiring - but she was assured that they were paid, and they were if nothing else, excellent at preventing shoplifting.
You would think that no one would bother given that the store was itself situated in the middle of a massive Parahuman base of operations, but apparently, you would be wrong.
"There's a line outside. I already called some of the others to help manage things but we were wondering if there was some kind of special deal today or something..?" The woman - Sabah couldn't remember her name at the moment - said.
Sabah wracked her brain for anything even vaguely like a promotion she might have planned and then forgot about, and drew a blank. She tried to think of what outrageous thing Taylor might have done recently to draw attention - and likewise came up blank.
True, the recent fight in Uber and Leets… pocket… dimension… thing was quite the spectacle.
But the recording had never been sent out from the time locked space, and no one save the Protectorate knew about it.
"I hadn't planned anything special…" She said slowly, shooting one last furtive look at her special fabric and then waving to have it recede back into the wall with a sigh.
"Oh. So should I tell them to go away or..?" Her employee asked, perhaps a bit too eagerly.
"No, it's fine. I'll go see what they want." Sabah said, picking her way to the front of the store.
"And you are here… for a hat?" She asked, several hours later, for perhaps the hundredth time in sheer disbelief.
On the one hand, business was quite good today. Booming even. She had received more easily managed commissions for custom pieces today than she had in her entire career to date.
The problem was, they were all for hats.
It was such a distracting prospect that she found herself staring blankly at this new customer when he said;
"Yup! It's Brockton Bay - you gotta have a hat!" He said happily.
Usually she wouldn't be speaking directly to the customers this often. That was the entire point of having employees. But she did have to speak to anyone asking for a custom piece. She couldn't very well work her craft based on a disjointed description from a cashier.
"And… from where did this notion come? I'm just asking because you aren't nearly the first person to make this request today…" She put forth hesitantly.
It burned her that she somehow didn't know where this trend had come from or why it was so popular at the moment - but she supposed that between patrolling, designing, and otherwise just being very busy the usual attention she put towards keeping up with the fads and styles of the day had fallen behind somewhat.
The man - who was wearing a tan jacket, a black shirt that read 'I 3 New York' and floppy looking Stetson that obviously wasn't part of his normal attire - looked confused for a moment before answering.
"Oh! Sorry, I guess you locals are already loaded up on the things huh? My tour bus just pulled in and all of us were able to find The Heap so we figured we just had to try the local style." The man said with a wide smile. "You're prices are great by the way. This old thing was off the shelf and was nearly twice the cost of your custom work."
Her gaze panned upwards to his Stetson, then back down again as tired realization kicked in.
They were tourists.
They were all tourists. She just hadn't considered the option because to her, coming to Brockton Bay for tourism or entertainment was like putting your head in a lion's mouth to get a better look at its throat.
Suicidally stupid.
But then, that was the old Brockton Bay. The Brockton Bay ruled by violence, and gangs. And while the city still had the highest number of capes per capita, it distinctly lacked much of its previous danger. In fact, with rare exception for the most insane villains - like Valefor - even the local villains were prone more to showboating than actually hurting anyone.
"I… see. Well, what did you have in mind then?" She asked, struggling mightily to maintain her professionalism when all she really wanted to do was grab the man and shake him.
When she was finished with him, she paused to glance around the shop and - finding it to be both extremely close to closing time, and for there to no longer be customers in the store - she opted to close up.
Almost automatically, she made towards the door so she could lock it and flip the sign on it to closed - but before she could complete the movement, one last customer stepped through it.
The first thing she noticed about the woman, was how familiar her method of dress was. The long white gown with the blue tabard like strip down the center of it was very reminiscent of a past version of Emmy. The second thing she noticed, were the nine large tails whipping around behind her.
Truthfully, she halfway just assumed Emmy had changed forms already, and was about to query her about the circumstances of the swap in a relaxed manner - when the blonde woman spoke.
"Good evening. Are you the proprietor of this business?" She asked in a polite tone with an obvious Asian accent to it.
"I- yes?" She offered, taking a quick step backward and immediately grabbing every fiber and thread in the building with her power when it became obvious that this was almost certainly a cape with whom she had no prior connection.
She had assumed that eventually the Elite would show up on her doorstep if not necessarily Taylors. The setup her team had was simply too beneficial to Parahuman commerce for them not to eventually take notice and get involved.
But she didn't attack, or show any outward signs of distress save for the sudden stillness in the surrounding area.
…and the sound of at least two swords being drawn behind her. She wanted to ask what the hell Aspirant was teaching these women, but opted not to do so at this particular moment in time.
"Good. My Master wishes to place a bulk order." The woman said serenely.
Sabah paused, squinting at her again. It… sounded like Emmy…
"…Emmy?" She asked carefully.
The blond woman tilted her head to one side, which was, again, a very memorable pose of confusion to Sabah. It also had the effect of causing her eyes to be drawn to the two triangular protrusions in the woman's cap, clearly designed to be shaped like exaggerated fox ears.
…or made to accommodate exaggerated fox ears.
"Ah. The copycat. My Master finds that one endlessly amusing. My condolences."
"Okay… and the order would be..?" Sabah asked very slowly. She had a baaaad feeling about this entire interaction. A creeping chill that tickled the base of her spine and left her remembering who Emmy had been when she had first joined the team.
"Fifty replicas of your Masters sun hat, to be completed by tomorrow morning in exchange for this." She said lightly, withdrawing a cloth bundle from… somewhere… and unwrapping it to show several spindles of crystalline white thread within.
Her power reached out to them immediately of course, and she was floored but how much of it could go into the stuff. Usually only so much of her power could 'saturate' a substance. Even Taylor's enchanted stuff could only improve the base materials so far.
But this… this felt like it was made for her.
And then the blonde woman covered it back up again and her ability to detect the items with using her power was abruptly cut off. She didn't bother asking how that was possible.
That was a habit people who lived near Taylor grew out of pretty quickly.
Instead she moved to ask what it was but was preempted by the blonds next statement.
"Thread from a Jorogumo. To be provided upon timely completion in-" she paused for a second. "- approximately twelve hours, eighteen minutes and sixteen seconds."
Sabah stared at her. The old her would have rejected the commission on the basis that all her other commissions for the day were equally time restricted. She already had a number of hats to complete for those tourists by tomorrow as they would be leaving not too long afterward and wished to actually wear the things in the city.
The current her had gotten into a tug of war with an Endbringer, and was firmly in the 'A' tier of Parahumans currently on the planet.
"Deal." She said simply.
They shook hands. Then the blond left via the front door.
It was two in the morning. She was tired. She was so, so tired. Continually use of her power required immense mental focus, and the amount of microscopic control required to achieve the levels of perfection she demanded of herself was staggering. Not just that, but with every moment that passed, it got harder and harder to maintain.
She glared balefully down at the slowly weaving itself together in front of her. She had thought that this would be easy. Under normal circumstances she could put together something like this in under ten minutes easy. Doing over a hundred of them should be trivial.
She had not considered the scaling difficulty of making so many of them back to back.
This… this was hell. There was no other way to describe it. It was pure hell. Her head hurt. Her eyes burned. And if she drank any more coffee she was pretty sure her bladder would literally explode.
Of course, then one of Taylor's hellish looking portals to nightmare land opened up and her younger friend stepped through.
"Hey I heard you were still here so I thought-" The younger girl paused when Sabah turned a blood shot stare on her and pointed at the neatly stacked pile of hats in the corner.
"Can you use your ridiculous magical bullshit to help me make some of these? Either help or go away - I'm too tired to rationalize your shit right now." She said flatly. Taylor was understandably taken aback by this, since Sabah was typically very soft spoken. In fact, besides occasional disbelief or mild annoyance, this was probably the first time she had ever snapped at Taylor.
But familiarity breeds contempt, and after spending months with the girl and in particular, hours making magical super fabric together, she was now comfortable being occasionally snappish with her if for no other reason than she was positive Taylor wouldn't get offended and obliterate her from existence.
Which isn't to say that she couldn't. Just that she wouldn't.
She would never say it out loud but she was pretty sure that if Taylor was any more active than she already was she would leave most of the world a catastrophe zone. Not intentionally - but her particular brand of problem solving did lean a bit towards ultra violence.
"O…k. I was going to ask if we could get some simple clothes for a new-" Taylor tried to say, but Sabah just shushed her and pointed sternly at the hat pile again.
"Work and Talk or don't Talk at all." She said seriously, finishing her current hat and moving on to another one.
"Fine…" Taylor said with a sigh, picking one of the completed hats up to examine and then carefully picking out the materials required to make one. A look of intense concentration crossed her face for a moment, then her tattoos started to glow - and a few moments later there was an identical hat in her other hand.
"There, so like I was saying-" She tried again.
"I need forty three more." Sabah spat out irately.
"...oh. Oh it's like training!" Taylor said, with an expression like a lightbulb had just gone off in her head.
"...what?" Sabah asked frankly, stopping mid task to turn to stare at her boss.
"Training! Sorry I didn't realize you were doing something so important. I'll leave you to it, I'll just see if Emmy left anything that will fit in my dresser for now." She said airily.
"No wai-" She tried to counter, rushing to get her whimsical ditz of a boss to comprehend that she was both wrong and stupid before she could flee and leave all the work to her.
But she was too late. Taylor had already opened up another nightmare portal and stepped brusquely through it - gone as quickly and disruptively as she had arrived.
Sabah couldn't help it. She yelled out in frustration for a moment.
Then she got back to work.
She woke up the next morning with ten minutes to opening time with her face stuck to her work table by a puddle of her own drool.
She had evidently, at some point in the night, fallen asleep.
Worse, she couldn't really remember the back half of her night. Had… had she finished in time?
At this point it wasn't about the reward for success. It was about her professional pride. If you can't complete a commission, then don't take it.
Hurriedly, she pushed herself to her feet and looked around only to find a vast majority of the hats she had made the day before were… gone. Simply… gone.
In a panic she rushed out to see if one of her employees had taken one only to find… nothing. The shop wasn't even open yet, and none of her usual employees were present to do so.
Confused and concerned, she rushed back to her workroom and after a moment of searching, found a small letter taped to the wall where she had been keeping the hats.
Picking it up slowly, she unfolded the slip of paper and began reading.
'Dear esteemed Hat Maker. My Master was pleased with the quality of your work and extends her gratitude for the speedy delivery. She wishes to inform you that she could have waited a few days for the work if you were busy, but that she appreciates your hard work regardless.' it read, and Sabah could feel her entire body stiffen with aggravation at the statement.
"If you didn't mind then why set a deadline in the first place!?" She raged internally, but kept reading.
'As compensation for your suffering, we have taken the liberty of delivering your other completed works to your customers for you, and we believe that your own Master has seen fit to temporarily close your store for the day so that you may rest.
Best wishes, Ran Yakumo'
Sabah stared at the letter for a moment. Then slowly sat back down as relief edged out anger as the dominant emotion in her body.
Of course, this was when her phone rang, sending her blood pressure skyrocketing.
"H-hello?" She asked weakly. She paused to listen for a moment then frowned.
"No, I… did not ask Nexus to speak with you. No, I don't think it likely that she would fill your bedroom with eyes until- no I assure you that wasn't- I mean it might have been but she didn't even- I would never… accepted? Why thank you, I look forward to working with you in a safe environment absent any multidimensional staring eyes!" She finally said brightly.
"I really can't forget how secretly considerate that girl can be." She thought to herself once the phone call was over, all ire at her boss for the previous nights abandonment forgotten.
When she remembered to thank Taylor for the - somewhat aggressive - assistance, she failed to notice the distinct lack of recognition in Taylor's eyes when she explained things.
Which was, for all involved, probably for the best.