Current Training: Half Devil Race Change (11/20) - (13/20)
Current Energy: 16
Tuesday, March 15th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
You awaken to the sound of a gong going off overhead.
Not a sound like a gong. Not pots and pans clanging together as though a gong.
A gong. A whole, actual, gong that sounds out loud enough to make your teeth hurt and your bones rattle beneath your skin.
"Wake up! Hey! I know you can hear me!" Taylor bellows in your ear as the sound begins to fade.
You bolt upright, landing on your feet in the middle of the bed with your fists raised.
"Whazza- who- why?!" You complain - loudly - when all you find in the room is your Master with one finger raised to support the string of magical energy that leads to the - again - giant actual gong made of magic that had been hovering next to the bed this entire time.
"Would you have woken up if I asked nicely?" She asks dryly. You ponder the question for what it is, taking in a thinking pose as you estimate the amount of time left until your Master's readjustment into a half devil is complete.
You give it about four more days - so you answer honestly and truthfully.
"Nope." You declare loudly.
"Then suffer." Taylor says sweetly.
"I already told you I got nothing to teach you right now! Just wait a bit, okay?" You rush to explain, holding your hands out placatingly toward her.
"I don't know what you're talking about - you have tons to teach me. Plus, we'll be late for school if you take too long." She explains. There is an ironic devilishness to her smile that sends a chill shooting down your spine. It's the kind of smile the women in your life tend to give you shortly before vanishing with your credit card.
It is not a smile that heralds good times for you.
You glance at the clock on the dresser, seeing that it reads six in the morning and frown.
"We've got like two hours. Plus you only dumped whatshisface with the PRT yesterday. You could totally skip school and-" You begin.
"Yeah, we're not doing that. I'll go talk to the Director after school - or she'll call me. We have a thing." Taylor insists, her gaze locking you in place with all the fervor of an addict who has their next fix in sight.
"..a thing?" You ask, stalling.
"Yeah. I limit how much of her worldview I destroy in any given week and she cuts me some slack on all that protocol stuff she loves so much."
"When did- I've been with you this whole time and that definitely was never agreed on."
"It's an unspoken agreement." Taylor answers with a shrug.
You somehow doubt Piggot would agree to even something like that, but you get the impression there are worse ways to wake up in the morning, and that you are coming dangerously close to experiencing them if you don't get to the point.
"…I really can't train you until this other thing is done." You insist.
Taylor holds up a set of car keys and grins at you.
You blink.
And then you smile.
Tuesday, March 15th, 2011
Winslow Highschool, Brockton Bay
Greg lets loose a sigh of relief and exasperation as he makes his way to his locker from his morning classes. He is largely oblivious to the fact that his clothing is ill-fitting and tight in places that make it hard to show off his purloined musculature. He is equally oblivious to the jealous looks and furtive glances from the boys and girls around him as he drifts through the hallways of the school.
It's probable that he is interpreting that distance the crowd affords him to either his social status, or his connection to your Master.
You suspect that if he did recognize his situation for what it was, he wouldn't care though. Powers have a way of doing that to people.
Regardless, when he closes his locker door - you are standing there, leaning against the next nearest locker with a smug look on your face.
"Gah! Dude!" Greg laments as he jerks first towards and then away from you - no doubt a result of his first instinct being to attack you.
You can respect that. He wouldn't have been successful, but still.
"Sup buddy. Watcha doing for lunch today?" You ask nonchalantly.
"…Eating…" he says slowly, as though unsure what to make of you.
Again, this is fair. He hasn't really gotten along with one of your emulations since you were the Panda, so it makes sense that he'd be wary of you.
"Awesome. The roof good for you? Yeah? Nice." You say, ignoring the odd looks you are getting from the other students in the hall as you put one arm over Gregs shoulder and start leading him away before he can get a word in edgewise.
"Dude you can't just- why are you even here? Taylor's gonna get in trouble!" Greg hisses at you, so you snort in response.
"Didn't you hear? I provide a valuable public service. Ain't that right boys?" You call to a passing group of boys with little pandas sewn on their bags.
They turn as one to look at you with awe on their faces, then as a group yell;
"""Skadoosh!"""
"That'll do boys. You know where to find me." You say cheerfully turning away from the kids.
If there is one thing that is consistent about you across pretty much every emulation since the Panda - it's taking care of this school. Not all of your emulations like it, or understood it - but all of them did it.
So, these kids? They know you - no matter what form you take.
"What the hell?" Greg complains as you pull him up the stairs and onto the roof.
"What can I say? The locals love me. So! Greg! Buddy! Pal! How's your sword arm?" You ask jovially, pulling Devil Sword Dante out and resting the tip on the roof.
"…I don't know how to use a sword." He says hesitantly, backing away from you.
"Yeah, I kinda figured. See, I dunno if I can really say I trained her, but there's this kid I trained who really wants that sword of yours. Thing is, I come to see you and you're just… doing nothing about it. You don't train. You don't try. And you know - that's just a crying shame." You say, rolling your shoulders as Greg pales.
"So! I'm gonna teach you to use a sword. Then I'm gonna lock you in a room with my girl. Then she's going to beat the shit out of you." You say with a smile.
"Can't she just… take the sword?" Greg asks hesitantly.
"How should I know? It's not mine." You respond with a shrug.
"If you don't know, then why are you doing this at all?!" Greg growls back at you, irritation overcoming his well deserved fear of screwing with you as his muscles bulge and flex beneath his skin.
"Greg. Buddy. I'm an unstoppable pizza loving badass. This is a highschool. I'm bored." You answer with absolute honesty.
"Wh- what would Taylor say about this?" Greg tries one more time, in a weak tone of voice even as he locks the door behind him, puts his bag down, and takes his shirt off.
"Eh. She needed worthy opponents anyway. Probably."
Tuesday, March 15th, 2011
PRT Headquarters, Brockton Bay
"So you spent all of lunch beating up Greg?" Your Master asks you with some amusement.
"And teaching him. I did teach him." You point out.
"You just also beat him up. Which he accepted." Simone points out sanguinely before pausing and turning to Taylor.
"Mom can I-"
"No." Taylor snaps off immediately.
"You didn't even let me finish!" The Shikigami complains, dressed in her usual pink shirt, pants, and sandals ensemble - possibly as a deliberate attempt to annoy the director.
"You were going to ask to bully Greg. No." She responds sourly.
"What if I just want to meet the dashing man who defeated my progenitor? What if I'm secretly in love and want to date him, Mother dearest?" Simone asks playfully.
You watch as Taylor visibly shivers at the idea before responding.
"That's still just you bullying him." She maintains adamantly.
"Yes, but attractive bullying." Simone says without any actual intention of doing so in her voice.
"The Director is going to hate you." You muse aloud as you watch the pair bicker.
"Brother dearest - I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, I-" Simone pauses before swerving to go down a different hallway.
"Where the hell is she going?" Trainwreck asks from behind all of you.
Everyone from your team who went to Boston is here to debrief the Director - at her request - though you suspect she is rapidly going to regret that decision shortly.
"Honestly, I'm trying to decide if I want to stop her, or if it's going to be funny enough to be worth letting her do whatever it is she's up to." Taylor muses aloud as Simone breaks into a jog at the end of the corridor before disappearing around a corner.
"...even though it could screw us over?" Trainwreck asks incredulously.
"Well. It could screw someone else instead, right? That'd be pretty funny." Taylor admits, before frowning and turning back to face the large Tinker. "But don't you ever tell her I think she's funny sometimes. It will only encourage her."
"Isn't her whole thing knowing shit like that anyway?" Trainwreck asks as you finally reach the door to the Director's office.
Taylor opens her mouth to comment, then closes it as the implication sets in.
"...she can't know everything, right?" She asks hesitantly, before shaking herself and pushing the door open.
"Nexus. Others." The Director greets in a dry tone from her desk, where the now quite small blonde woman is sitting behind a mound of paperwork and correspondence large enough to dwarf her.
Literally. The Director has to stand up, pick up a stack, and drop it on the ground nearby in order to see you from her chair.
"Rude." Trainwreck grumbles.
"I'll tell you what. You can do all of this," she says gesturing at all the paperwork, "and I'll run around in your monkey suit causing property damage and getting censored on every news network capable of recording me."
"Fucking all of them?" Trainwreck asks incredulously. Piggot just stares daggers at him in response.
"Sick." The tinker mumbles, causing the Director's eye to twitch.
"What is all this anyway?" Taylor asks curiously.
"New manual. I have to read and approve every procedure Kid Win and Armsmaster come up with for handling Type One and Type Two anomalous entities - which I blame you for, even if I don't know how." She growls.
You plaster a neutral smile on your face and definitely don't say that there is a non zero chance she is correct.
"I don't know what to tell you ma'am. I'm pretty sure my powers don't break reality that way." Taylor says with a shrug and a thoughtful expression on her face.
"Should you have told me that? I mean-"
"Does it matter? Are you less likely to provide useful assistance on this front if I tell you?" She spits.
"Hey! I'd totally help if you asked! Didn't I give you a bunch of talismans that banish ghosts the first time I caught the Butcher for you?" Taylor points out.
You can actually see the Director casting her mind back to that point in time to try and find some kind of counter argument to the point your Master has made.
And fail.
"...I was under the impression those were specific to the Butcher." She says slowly.
"They banish ghosts! Why would I make a ghost banishing talisman that only banishes a handful of specific ghosts!?" Taylor asks incredulously.
There is a pause in the conversation as your Master smugly waits for Piggot to acknowledge the point.
Piggot, being Piggot, opts to just move on rather than doing so.
"On that topic. Is there any reason why Valefor is brain dead?" She asks with a frown.
Which is of course the exact moment Simone decides to shove the door - which was locked and is now broken - open. Whether she was waiting for someone to mention her to do so, or if this is merely a coincidence, you'll probably never know.
But you can guess.
"This is Simone. She's two days old, I made her from the Simurgh's toenail, and she eats minds." Taylor says flatly.
"WHY," is all the obviously beleaguered Director can manage to get out. You're pretty sure if you hadn't forced her to get healed, she would have fallen over dead by now just going by the vein pulsing at her temple.
"She thought it would be funny. Hi! Were you aware this was in your basement?" Simone says before your Master can defend herself and throws… something… on the ground between everyone.
Then she frowns, bends over, and pinches whatever it is - and it quickly resolves into a confused and slightly starved looking brunette.
"...hi?" Madison says dazedly before falling unconscious.
You won't say the Director screamed.
But only because you don't think you have to. It wasn't like it was hard to hear.
Tuesday, March 15th, 2011
Rey's Apartment, Brockton Bay
"Is Mister Andino around?" Your Master asks while you invisibly hover behind her. The woman sitting at the desk in the entry hall of the building doesn't bat an eye before throwing her boss under the bus.
"I'll phone him." She says without preamble.
You are presently directly next to the Heap - which is surprising because it had only taken a very short walk to follow your Master's tracking spell towards those poor people you spotted heading toward the bay the other day.
Needless to say, your Master wasn't pleased.
"...hello?" A male voice on the other end of the phone connection asks - the guard having directly passed your Master her cellphone without question or complaint.
"Mister Andino? I was recently out of town when I noticed a truckload of women being secretly brought into the city - I was just wondering why they appear to be here, in this building?" Taylor asks in a pleasant, but extremely threatening tone of voice.
"Ah, that- I can explain that if you ah, if you promise not to kill me?" the man on the other end of the line asks hesitantly. Taylor snorts.
"I've never actually killed anyone, you know." She points out.
"That's not even slightly convincing-" The voice begins.
"There are way worse things to do to people that I really don't like." She cuts him off.
"...ah. I'll… be right up." The male voice says before hanging up.
The guard's pleasant smile doesn't change even on iota during the entire exchange.
"Thanks." Taylor says absently as she hands the woman back her phone and turns to watch the elevator as it rises from the parking garage below the building.
Rey Andino fearfully pokes his head out of it when the doors finally open, and he freezes in place as your Master's gaze slams into him. He remains frozen in place as your Master slowly crosses the distance to get in the elevator with him - and you invisibly move to stand behind him.
Just in case.
"So." Taylor says expectantly.
"Just… it's really not what it looks like." Rey attempts to explain again. He nervously looks to your Master for any response to his statement, but all he gets is a flat stare in return.
"Ah- well, you know. My ex came back recently and-" He tries.
"Is this relevant? Because if it's not it could be construed as stalling, which, you know, implies some things." She interjects.
"It-" He starts to say - just as the doors of the elevator open, the lift having gone well below the lowest labeled level of the building.
And they open to reveal what looks like a massive biolab full of disenfranchised, starving, sick looking women.
You'll give your Master this. She takes the sight in, and thinks for almost exactly half a second about what she is seeing, before her hand snaps out to point her sword at Rey's chest.
"Wait! I can explain!" A new voice - this one female - calls from inside the room, and your Master turns her head to find a terrified looking woman with an orb of green smoke hovering dangerously over one palm. She is shifting it in your Master's direction like she is going to fire it at her, which you find likely.
"...I'm listening." Taylor says slowly, even as you appear silently behind the woman, who jolts slightly at your sudden presence. She doesn't bother moving her sword though.
"I-" The woman pauses to lick her lips, then tries again. "I was on a job to- well, I was supposed to get these women to Portland."
"And they are here instead because..?" You ask curiously. The woman jolts again as you speak but dares not turn towards you.
"I didn't want to do it, so I switched the trailer numbers and brought them here anyway?" She says, switching her tone to that of a question at the end of the sentence.
"Oh. Why didn't you just say so?" Taylor says, her sword instantly disappearing and the aura of menace she had been exuding instantly vanishing.
"I tried!" Rey screams at her.
"Hey, you still have a creepy murder lab in your basement. Mind the tone." She responds primly.
"So… you're his ex, right?" You ask the woman smugly.
She makes a disgusted noise and steps away from you.
So, about the norm.