A/N: Alright, this one seemed to flow right onto the page, no problem. I do hope I managed to Capture Taylor at this stage properly- she isn't the seasoned, tough as nails cape that we all know as love, but she also isn't as much of a wallflower as portrayed in other stories. She seems that there is something off with the Trio, and she utilizes it incite some rebellion.
I also wanted to reimagine the foot chase scene- I think a few others have also done this, the infamous chase where Taylor finally resolves to start running every day to get her cardio up.
Let me know your thoughts here, did I capture her properly?
Cheers!
Also, I'm not spell checking and stuff the PHO posts guys. It's part of the charm. *wink*
[February 14th, 2011]
[Taylor Hebert]
The Trio had been unusually... quiet the past few days. It really wasn't like them.
Well, Madison had been the same as always, petty slights and cookie-cutter insults that attempted to cut both ways but contradicted each other from one breath to the next.
"Taylor's such a little slut, I hear that she gives blowjobs for five bucks in the girl's bathroom. Poor, poor Taylor; so ugly that no one wants to even touch her."
Which was it? Was she too ugly to interact with or was she a whore giving five-dollar blowjobs? If she was so ugly then who'd pay to let her suck their dicks? It was merely playground insults with added vulgarity, but that didn't mean the constant verbal abuse didn't leave their bruises.
Sophia though had been 'off her game' so to speak. Something happened the past week that didn't rattle her, but she spent more time deep in thought, staring out the window with a severe frown on her mug instead of paying attention to Mr. Quinlan's math lectures. Whatever it was Emma knew that something was off because she was similarly affected, her normally gut-wrenching insults more subdued as her backstop in the form of Sophia was less and less attentive to their little 'game' of tormenting her.
Still, that just meant where Sophia and Emma faltered in their self-imposed mission to mess with Taylor in every way possible their posse of generic third-string mean girls just tried to pick up the slack; however, their methods were far less creative and easier to thwart. Spitballs were much easier to ignore than soda being spilled in her seat, and where they lacked in quality they made up for in quantity, which on more than a few occasions ended up backfiring on them deliciously; even Mr. Gladly couldn't ignore the veritable rain of saliva-soaked paper balls.
They only received verbal warnings, but if Taylor was honest she felt a little emboldened by those small string of victories to begin striking back in small ways. One little act of rebellion did end up with her being placed in detention, but seeing Stacy laid out on the floor as Taylor's mass + velocity equaled enough force to tip her desk over and send her sprawling onto the ground when Madison-Lite's leg tried to trip her up on her way to her seat. It was cathartic, and despite the impromptu counter-insurgency Sophia and Emma were miles away.
She wanted to believe it was because they were pulling back to probably try and finish the job they left incomplete at the start of the new year- it was dark, tight, claustrophobic, insects bit her flesh as the rank, rotting stench of used, fermented hygiene products forced her breakfast from her stomach and through her clenched teeth- but her gut was telling her this was different. This wasn't a full contraction to lull her into a false sense of security, this was her enemies being distracted by outside forces.
Taylor didn't hold out hope that Sophia had been pulled off to the side by the track Coach and told to knock off the shit, because she was the school's top athlete with the potential to take them to State, but something, to borrow an expression from her dad, was chapping her ass. Something was eating at her, causing her to be more ornery than before but her anger was nebulous, unfocused. If Sophia was having a "bad day" the dark-skinned teen had no trouble taking her frustration out on Taylor through the typical pushes, trips, shoulder punches, and even the occasional attempt on her life by nudging her on the staircase just so.
Without her rock to lean on, Emma was just as listless, the red-head spending more time looking at Sophia when they eventually cornered Taylor for their thrice-weekly 'girl huddle' with Taylor in the middle.
It was strange, like she had stepped into the Twilight Zone.
"Imagine if you will, if only for a moment, where there exists a world where Sophia Hess and Emma Barnes are not being fully efficient in their bitchery."
"-aylor, hey, Earth Bet to Taylor."
She was knocked out of her thoughts by the insistent, nasally voice of Greg Veder. She blinked and looked up from her pencil and paper, "What is it, Greg?"
"You, ah, got something right here," The pasty boy's slightly chubby cheeks pulled back with a grimace as a hand came up near the side of his face, his watery blue eyes scrunching in what Taylor assumed was sympathy- no, empathy; sympathy implied that Greg had actual experience with the High School 'games' Taylor had to deal with.
At most he suffered a glancing blow, often when within her immediate vicinity.
"God, she's so repulsive that not even Greg would try and stick it in her."
Granted if Taylor hadn't been public enemy number one in Winslow there was no doubt in her mind that Greg Veder would have been a prime target; his light blonde hair looked like it was cut with a salad bowl, the acne that was focused around his lips and mouth was particularly eye-catching for someone who wanted to verbally tear someone down by their appearance. He was slightly overweight but despite having his 'moobs' fondled by his male peers on occasion the guy still wore those graphic t-shirts that he probably grew out of a year ago.
Yesterday it was Alexandria, and today? Today he was wearing what he would describe as a 'vintage' Mouse Protector tee; he could probably cite the year it was produced and the reason for the new commemorative production run. He was a cape nerd with no filter and far too much passion for things that ultimately didn't have any real impact on his life.
If she had to listen to him rant to his pseudo-friend(?) Sparky about how the Earth Bet localization ruined another one of 'Aleph's video game masterpieces' when she would scream. Internally.
"Uh, yeah, Taylor, Chrissy got you, like, a minute ago," The Hispanic boy barely even looked up from his desk, his hands stuffed in his pockets so that he could actively control the volume on the cheap MP3 player he listened to whenever Gladly had little 'group projects' like this for class; the cord he had painted roughly the same brown as his skin tone so he could snake it up his shirt and under his beanie, the boy using his long raven hair to hide the cord.
Taylor pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, the specs having slid down while she was trying to organize her thoughts for the current inane in-class assignment. With her vision no longer blurred she caught sight of a small white speck hanging in her bangs, and a sigh escaped her lips as she plucked it from the one good feature she thought she had. Out of all of the things the Trio had done to her the only thing that they hadn't done was try to take some scissors to her hair, but they only threatened to do it; actually going Edward Scissor-Hands on her hair would leave evidence.
Not that evidence really mattered- when she went to the school nurse to show off the bruising Sophia gave her the nurse looked at her with sad eyes and asked 'everything was alright at home'.
Her father was absent, not an abuser, though from where she sat she wondered if him being trapped in his head since her mother's death was any better than abuse.
"Whatever, so, what was your question, Greg?" She kept her words short, not because she disliked Greg, but because he was like a puppy that immediately responded to any amount of attention thrown his way. He was the type to automatically assume some sort of 'thing' if she showed him more than cursory notice even with mandatory interactions like Gladly's little time wasters.
Back in October she'd made the mistake of actually engaging him in a discussion she found interesting- he had been talking about Shakespear, but that turned out to be a ruse because then he started talking about "Noble Phantasms" and or nonsense from some Aleph anime. That was both disappointing and yet she shouldn't have been surprised.
The problem was that after catching onto her apparent interest he tried to invite her over to his house to watch it the very next day, in front of everyone in class. The rumor mill ran wild with it, and she was forced to retaliate with both barrels; not that it did her any good.
"Well, I was talking about that new Hero team, you know, Frontline?" He grinned, showing off his slightly crooked teeth that looked like he had just finished eating a bowl full of Cheetos. Hadn't he ever heard of brushing his teeth?
Oh, there was a packet of Cheetos; it was empty and face down on his desk. That still didn't cut down the 'ick' factor when he stuffed his fingers into his mouth to clean off the crumbs.
She sighed and tapped her pencil against the table, "I'm pretty certain that we're supposed to be talking about how Capes and Cape legislation has shaped the current criminal justice system, and not about the latest sensation to hit the Bay."
He rolled his eyes, which was pretty gutsy for Greg considering he still had his thumb in his mouth like a three-year-old. He shook his head and wiped his fingers on his pants, "Come on, Taylor. This is huge news! Only on the radar for like a week and already the Merchants are gone!"
The boy leaned forward with a huge, excited grin on his face, an effect that was made more than a big gross with Cheeto dust clinging to the insides of his lips, "I heard that they caught nearly all of them; like over two hundred members-"
"Where did you hear that from?" Taylor arched an eyebrow.
"Well, PHO is all abuzz-"
"Wait, they unbanned you again?" Sparky interjected, a small show of surprise on his face.
"Well, yeah, because it's not like they can tell me I'm wrong- Masters are the worst types of Cape around, and Bad Canary, as much as I love her music, her chickens are coming home to roost; I mean, she had to know that with her powers even innocuous words could be construed as Commands, right?"
Taylor blinked in surprise, his words weren't exactly how she would have described it, but she did feel that there was some level of personal responsibility when it came to power use. It took some colossal willpower on her part to not go Carrie on the school with her bugs, but she didn't do it not just because it would have ended her life; she had principles.
She didn't agree with him on Masters being the "worst" kind of Capes around, considering she herself would be classified as a Master with her control over bugs, but it didn't hide the fact that most Master-based effects were typically people-oriented. Why telling someone to shoot themselves in the head with a gun was 'inherently more evil' than roasting them alive with a fireball shot from the hands was something that she couldn't wrap her head around. Both were equally reprehensible.
"That wasn't what got you the ban-hammer, dude." Sparky chuffed and she could see his fingers twitch under his coat, likely skipping tracks.
"Well, yeah, but I am right," The boy puffed himself up, "Despite my anti-Master stance, the Bad Canary trial from what we know is a sham, for realsies. It's a conspiracy, I tell you, by the government to set a legal precedent for making it easier to lock up Masters and throw away the key. You only need to look at the restraints they had her in- that stuff is for Brutes, bro. She wasn't even allowed a text-to-talk at her arraignment- even Slickback was only in handcuffs and he got a text-to-talk and a lawyer at his initial hearing, and he Mastered people into throwing themselves in front of PRT vehicles in his escape attempt from that bank robbery!"
"Wow, dude, your time watching CSI: Los Angeles and Law & Order: Special Capes Unit is really carrying you there," The Hispanic boy shook his head as he turned his head and gazed out the dirty windows towards freedom. Taylor knew the feeling well.
Greg's grin grew wider, "Thanks dude, I just finished watching Season 3 of CSI last night-"
Taylor raised her pencil, stopping Greg in his tracks, "We have twenty-four minutes to get something prepared before we have to present to the class, so let's focus, okay? We can take that angle with the Bad Canary thing and turn it into a three-minute presentation, right?"
The bowl-cut shook with excitement, "Yeah, we can totally get this knocked out!"
They did get it knocked out, but with Greg and Sparky it was like pulling teeth; Greg kept getting distracted and Sparky rarely opened up his mouth to do anything worthwhile. It fell to Taylor to write out the notecards for their little speech because Greg and Sparky had atrocious handwriting; a Doctor would find their chicken scratch illegible- it was a surprise they even got credit for the homework they turned in.
Madison tried to get cute with a bottle of water, but Taylor caught wind of her little 'trip' towards the pencil sharpener with the fly she had nestled in her hair, and Taylor stood up from her chair; this spoiled the second-string bully's attempt, knocking the water bottle out of her hand and dousing Sparky instead. The kid started cussing her out in Spanish as he pulled out his MP3 player to make sure it didn't get any water on it, which subsequently got it confiscated by Gladly until the end of class.
Needless to say Sparky was a little heated, and to her surprise, Greg started speaking to him in Spanish that was heavily accented, but the attempt to calm him down actually pulled the glowering boy out of his funk. "I keep forgetting you speak some Spanish, then you pull some shit like that out of your ass. Thanks though, that clumsy bitch ain't worth detention."
That ended his participation for the rest of class, as it fell to Taylor to handle the presentation; Sparky handled the introductory card but then slunk back to Greg's side to mope about his lack of tunes. Greg handled another card, but his stage fright caught up to him on the second card and Taylor stepped in. Of course, public speaking wasn't her strong suit, but dumping some of her anxiety into the insects crawling around the walls helped curb her nervousness.
"That was quite well thought out, though a little derivative to Madison's group. A little more originality would have popped that up to an 'A'; it wouldn't hurt to be a bit more emotive either," Gladly smiled as he nodded to Madison, who preened like a peacock. Taylor didn't have any doubt that the bitch had been eavesdropping on their discussions. Though it pained her to admit it, the Bad Canary situation was something of a hot topic right now, as three other groups all commented on it; most of the people in those groups were indifferent to her, so it wasn't likely that they were all out to get her.
Madison wasn't smart enough to organize them to collectively steal what little thunder Taylor could create in academics; that was more Emma's forte.
Blissfully, the bell signaled the end of Second period. All she had to do was survive Algebra II with Quinlan, evade the suddenly apathetic trio during lunch, suffer through Biology 202 with Mr. Hanz, and then it was Study Hall and finally Computer Sciences with Mrs. Knott.
Sophia saw fit to ignore Taylor even more than usual today, the track star's face was faced outside the windows for almost the entire class. She still managed to shove Taylor into the doorframe with a warning, "Don't get comfortable, Heebert."
With that Taylor immediately knew to be on her guard. She didn't what was coming, but something certainly was coming. With that in mind, Taylor took steps- with all of the bugs in the school she was able to tag Sophia, Emma, Madison, along with the rest of the hangers-on and watch them throughout the entire school; she couldn't be too graceful in her evasions because then they would start asking questions, but she did manage to evade them when they tried to intercept her in the emptier parts of the school.
She used the first-floor girl's bathroom, the one near the Principal's Office, to enjoy her peanut butter and jelly sandwich and apple today because yesterday she'd used the 3rd-floor bathroom on the opposite side of the school and that almost ended in disaster. She barely managed to exit the bathroom and round the corner before the Bitches Three sauntered inside, and she ended up having to spend the rest of that lunch eating her sandwich on the move.
As much as Taylor would have liked to say that the Trio wouldn't be so brass as to harass her in the bathroom next to the Principal's office, that wasn't always the case. Emma just had to smile and brush it off as 'juvenile playing around' and they walked off Scott-free even after having been caught red-handed. Why the front desk lady didn't even make a note of it she wouldn't know, but having been interrupted at the tail-end of the week they seemed to be wary about tempting fate a second time.
Biology was a bore, with Mr. Hanz's German accent so thick he could have been cast for a Hollywood feature film as a stereotypical Bond villain, but at least he knew the material and actually tried to teach it despite his rough time with the language. She heard that he moved to the States from Germany after Behemoth, and she did feel bad for him, but only in Winslow could you hire a teacher that could barely speak the language to teach a vital subject that was on the SATs and ACTs.
Still, without the Trio or any of their cronies in here to bother her Biology was her second-best subject behind Computer Science; she had some homework stolen or ruined, which kept her from claiming the 'A', but her 'B' was still borderline- it was still early in the year, so maybe if the Trio continued their current listlessness she could pop it back up before the semester ended?
She rolled her eyes as she filled out her homework in Study Hall; wishful thinking, but hell, a girl could still dream, right? When her homework was completed she sandwiched it between three of the thick paperboard folders; they showed surprising resistance to the successful attempts at soaking her backpack. Her homework survived like this, but the same couldn't be said for her textbooks- she already had to replace three of them, and it wasn't even two full months into the school year... and she'd only attended one of that on account of having been either in the hospital or at home recovering from her attempted murder.
After that, she pulled out her little cape notebook and began doodling some costume designs and possible cape names. She knew that she wanted to go out and do something with her powers, but as to the 'when' she hadn't quite pinned that down yet.
'Queen Bee'? Her lips quirked, no, that was something the old Emma would have suggested. Besides there aren't enough bees in the Bay area for her to claim them as her 'title'- apparently the bees and butterflies were disappearing and the lack of pollination was becoming a problem.
She shook her head.
'Lady Bug'?
'The Amazing Arachnid'?
'Spider-girl'? She snorted, that would get her sued by Marvel; even with the differences between Aleph and Bet Spider-Man was still a prime Intellectual Property that was viscously defended. Even the Case 53 out in Virginia that was an actual Man-Spider was threatened with lawsuits- only the Protectorate stepping in prevented an Independent from getting sued into the ground for infringement; weren't Case 53s amnesiac? Kind of scummy to go after someone who didn't even know that Spider-Man existed.
'Hornet Girl'. Meh, borderline? It went into the maybe category; the Anti-Hero list was much longer while her Hero list was frighteningly small.
'Hive.' It made her skin prickle as the power and emotions the name evoked suffused into her body and picked her up a little bit. It made her feel powerful, and she could just imagine the gangers scrambling away in fear as she strolled down a dark alleyway with a swarm at her beck and call; the skittering things that made people jump in irrational fear of her weapon.
She considered it- under the right circumstances with the proper PR she could probably rock the name as a Hero, but it still had some pretty heavy negative connotations; it could easily be warped into something like 'Hive Mind' which would play up her power's Master classification and make her into an acceptable target for unfair criticism. Greg's opinion and the opinions of the other students- with Master powers being inherently more terrifying than others (for some reason)- proved that people would always be biased.
Taylor could understand though, as it was one thing to threaten someone with a loaded gun, but it was another thing to lock them inside their own minds and puppet them around or turn them into a willing subject like Heartbreaker.
The name was crossed out- 'Too villainous' she scribbled next to it.
Bells chimed over the speaker within the classroom and Taylor put her notebook into the zipped pocket and tucked it behind the plastic backing board; sure it would dig into her shoulder blades, but it was, for the most part, protected.
She walked down the halls towards Mrs. Knott's classroom on the first floor; it was right next to the doors, and often times she could escape the school before she got hemmed in, but not always. It was 60/40, but it was still much better than the 100% it was last semester when she had been stranded on the 3rd floor. How Emma, Sophia, Madison, and all their additions managed to consistently leave class early just to harass her on her way out was beyond her, but the Gym teacher was the Track supervisor, so that was probably it.
Taylor blissfully managed to make it to the Computer Science room without being targeted, and she slipped down in her favorite seat in the back of the room, and she typed in the school password to unlock the screen. Ugh, someone had too many tabs open again, it was sluggish as hell. She clicked the power button icon and restarted the machine, and it managed to just boot up before the bell signaled the start of the period.
She accessed her student email account, studiously ignoring the copious generic 'Kill yourself' emails in her inbox, and downloaded her project - she stopped storing it in the shared drive after the first two assignments she completed were mysteriously deleted. It was a simple Coral Snake script project to create a functioning simple calculator- it really was simple; all she had to do was follow the instructions in her CompSci textbook and the program was completed near the end of Thursday's class period last week.
Even though she was finished she stopped submitting her work ahead of time, if only because Mrs. Knott would hand out extra assignments to those who finished early. The kindly teacher did give extra credit, but in the Winslow school system you couldn't get above an 'A' unless you were in an AP course, and those were decidedly rare and difficult to get into. Even if Taylor felt she was smart enough to get into them, her grades were tanked enough in her Freshman year of High School that trying to get in would be pointless.
After giving the calculator a run through its paces, using the computer's current calculator to check again, Taylor considered it complete and minimized the tab while setting a small alarm on the calendar; it would remind her to submit it before class ended.
With that done she opened up the Netscape web browser and went to her go-to browser web page to download the Bravery browser- it was small and lightweight, and more importantly, it had a built-in bypass for the school's internet filters; granted those were about useless. They still used 'Buzzy-Splat' and that company went the way of the Dodo bird back in '06. The main draw for Taylor was that between the bypass to the school filters, built-in VPN, and the lack of caching or data collection she could search and fiddle around on PHO with some relative safety.
Taylor opened up the General thread and found it already alight with posts, but she typically stuck to Bagrat because he was the type that seemed to stay on top of everything, delivering mostly facts without too much opinion.
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Topic: Update - Frontline Part 2 - Electric Boogaloo
In: Boards ► United States ► New Hampshire ► Brockton Bay ► General
Bagrat (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Posted On Feb 11th 2011:
So, I know its probably a bit too soon to create a new thread, but considering I had to ask the Mods to unlock it a half-dozen times in the past two days because you little goblins keep causing problems I figured it would be best to put it to pasture and start fresh.
Speaking of starting fresh, Frontline has really proved their chops here in the Bay.
For those of you living under a rock, or aren't familiar with the goings on in the asshole of the United States, a new Independent Hero organization (and there isn't any other way to describe them as anything *but* an organization- See the thread on the speculation on Frontline's capabilities [HERE]) came onto the scene last week with the capture of some Merchant assets, and they followed up with another raid that rocked the Merchants pretty hard. I don't know if it was intentional, but Intel_Boi360Degrees (His analysis can be seen - [HERE]) believed it was done intentionally; hit the Merchants hard, rock them on their heels, and then let them contract so the new group could hit them even HARDER.
There were a few days without Frontline activity, but then suddenly out of nowhere they swoop in with not just *one* team, but three whole teams! They kicked the doors in at a popular Rave spot near Midway, assaulted a Cabin out in the woods where we found that Skidmark stashed a great deal of cash (Uncharacteristically smart of him, but DailyProphet actually called it correctly on this one, so good on you, man), and the third team took on the Merchants directly in a little stronghold raid in the Railyard.
All known Merchants were captured, including a new Tinker that had been staying beneath the radar, along with a hefty number of their unpowered members.
Our awesome boys in blue with the Brockton Bay PD and PRT showed up and helped clear away the (alleged) gang members and put them in the clink. Unless one of the other Gangs break them out or the Merchants had *another* hidden member, I think the possibility of them pulling an August 4th raid on the PRT prisoner transport like they did last year is incredibly low. (Sorry, Reave, I know you guys try your best, but that was the third time that year Skidmark was broken out by Squealer and Mush. I simply calls it like I sees it)
Though, after the clean-up, is where we see a plot-twist in our little hopeful fairy tale. The PRT ENE released a Public Statement (you can read the full write-up - [HERE], along with Star_Gazer's analysis of it - [HERE]) that seemed to imply that there was a little bit more PRT involvement than just showing up to slap the cuffs on. As if she had precognitive powers, the self-described PR Head of Frontline ART_556 pre-empted the PRT release with a message that they will be releasing the full footage of their helmet cameras after taking some time to sanitize them, and a full statement would be released in addition to that.
Boy, that was something that ended up being a bit of a black eye for the PRT ENE. Sure, they didn't explicitly state that they were directly involved, but you don't need to be a genius to see someone in the PR department there trying to ride the coat-tails of Frontline's operational success.
Now, before I get inundated with people screaming that I'm carrying a torch, just let me say this: when was the last time we saw such an objectively clean and effective operation? Last time I heard about our boys making a similar capture they had gotten lucky on November 12th with the capture of Cricket, Stormtiger, and Alabaster while Kaiser successfully broke out Hookwolf and Crusader. Hookwolf subsequently broke them out the very next week. If you ask me, there is a difference between getting lucky and staging a complete operation that appears to accomplish all of the objectives.
Those Objectives were the following:
- Scout out Merchant locations.
- Deprive their local street cells of weapons, cash, and narcotics to push.
- Gather intel to strike bigger targets.
- Force a reaction by poking the drug-fueled bear.
- Then deal a decisive blow when they least expected it and remove the ability for the gang to recover by stripping them of all of their resources.
They accomplished all of that and more; there aren't any more Merchant capes that we know of that can break them out and steal their drugs back (Sorry, BBPD_Official, but they *did* steal pallets of drugs back just last month, so you can't say that it didn't happen. Granted, those were *invisible* trucks, so at least you can say that you didn't see it coming).
I'm digressing.
The Frontline organization released their camera footage, though there were some pretty obvious edits (like having the cash they 'liberated' being heavily blurred out) but for the most part you can see them treating the Merchants firing Heavy Machine Guns at them with kid gloves. No real injuries that weren't self-inflicted (one alleged Merchant shot his own foot in the gunfight, but last word was that our dear White-Robed angel got to him and he shouldn't lose it) and there were a LOT of members captured.
Effectively, the Archer's Bridge Merchants are gone from the Bay, and that my friends is reason to celebrate.
What are your thoughts? Happy to see them gone? Worried that this might invite instability?
EDIT (Feb 12): Hey, they posted three videos that are on par with their little introductory video. The first one ([HERE]) depicts the raid on Skidmark's cabin in the woods, the second is the Rave Raid ([HERE]), and of course the final one is the fight between Frontline and the Merchant Capes ([HERE]).
I'll save my words and let everyone draw their own conclusions. ~Bagrat
EDIT 2(Feb 13): Hey everyone, Frontline live streamed an AMA yesterday- if you haven't seen it yet you can see the full video [HERE]. It lasted three hours and they answered a LOT of questions, so if you're thirsty for information on them straight from their own mouths then that is the place to see it. The reaction thread for the stream is [HERE], so try to keep on task for this one and not get bogged down on by ART_556's reveal, okay? Thanks. ~Bagrat
(Showing page 1 of 2)
►Answer Key (Cape Groupie)
Replied On Feb 11th 2011:
Good riddance! I was real sick and tired of having to carry a gun in my purse when I went down to the corner store with those junkies hanging around harassing every person they came across!
►Definitely_NOT_Alexandria (Verified Alexandria Cosplayer)
Replied On Feb 11th 2011:
Answer Key Hey, I feel for you, but you need to actually think. With the Merchants gone what is that going to mean for the Bay? I hated the Merchants just as much as the next gal, but while they stooped it up like a bunch of maggots they were still enough to keep the ABB and E88 out of the area where I lived. I had to deal with worrying about stepping on needles and crap, but I didn't have to worry about getting snatched up and whored out, or beaten to death in an alleyway just because the color of my skin.
All the Merchant's defeat means is that there is now a power vacuum that the other gangs will try to take advantage of. As a black woman neither of my 'options' here are stellar.
►Colt Python_FL (Verified Cape) (Frontline Member_Patrol Team)
Replied On Feb 11th 2011:
Definitely_NOT_Alexandria You don't need to worry about the E88 or ABB moving into your area, ma'am. We are going to be heavily patrolling all of the Merchant's territories from here on out, and will do the same for the other sections of the city claimed by the gangs. Until the city is clean and people can walk down the street without fearing drive-bys and organized crime, Frontline will not rest.
Though, it would always be best that you keep your gun on you- taking your protection into your own hands is one of the greatest rights that our Constitution affords us. Get armed, get trained, and shoot straight- don't squander what the men and women of our nation suffered and died for.
►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Feb 11th 2011:
Man, Frontline members are popping out of the woodwork today! Colt Python_FL, I don't remember seeing you in the announcement video?
EDIT: Okay, okay, I get it guys. Please, yes, I know. I missed M16A1's announcement about the AMA. My bad. Let it die, please? My shame is immeasurable.
►Hardindeezestreetz (Temp Banned)
Replied On Feb 11th 2011:
Fukkk you Frontline. All you hoez will rue the day you crossed the Merchants!
- TEMP BANNED (7 Days): Blatant threats of violence are blatant. Take a seven-day chill pill. This will be your second seven-day infraction- one more and we'll start handing out month-long IP bans, so no sock-puppets for you. ~Gosilver
►ArchmageEin
Replied On Feb 11th 2011:
LOL Gosilver handing out the "Seven Days" punishments now. Will a water-logged Japanese girl crawl out of his tv I wonder?
►Laotsunn (Kyushu Survivor)
Replied On Feb 11th 2011:
ArchmageEin Damnit, Aleph Japan! You should have never released that film here! All I hear is my friends whispering "Seven Days" to each other over the phone, super annoying!
Anyways, I for one welcome Frontline. If they can clean up the ABB territory first then myself and all the Asians in BB will be eternally grateful. Lung and his ilk need to go!
►TheSunRises (Permanent Ban)
Replied On Feb 11th 2011:
- Permanent Ban (For Life): I'm not even going to leave this message up for posterity purposes. This is one of the most flagrant rules violations I've seen in my time as a Moderator for the Brockton Bay boards, with Threats of Violence, Inciting Others to Violence, among many, many other violations. In fact, I have already reported you to the BBPD for terroristic threats. ~Gosilver
►ScreamingEagle44
Replied On Feb 11th 2011:
Leave it to them to behave like animals.
- Infraction 1: Getting dangerously close there, 44, don't push it. ~Gosilver
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►Foxtantabil (Veteran Member)
Replied On Feb 11th 2011:
Holy moly, Gosilver on a roll! Fight!
Ha ha.
Now, before I get an infraction for derail, I'm just surprised at how quick and clean they were. I haven't seen people move like that in a long, long time; granted I'm no "Tactical Operator" but my brother and his buddies are SWAT in New York City, and I've gone shooting with them a bunch. My bro is what you would call a "Tactical Maniac" and he was frothing at the mouth after watching them Shoot, Move, and Communicate. All angles were covered, bad guys were put to sleep, confirmed down- the front element moved on while the rear element pulled security and restrained the unconscious bangers. They even pulled them out of the line of fire, and on multiple occasions put themselves between bullets and those that were trying to shoot at them not ten seconds before! Insane I tell you, those Frontline capes. The last time I was in a firefight I could barely reload my rifle because the adrenaline had be butterfingers my magazine. Real cool cucumbers those guys.
Johnny the Lawman81 You want to get in on this, bro?
Also:
Bagrat: "Granted, those were *invisible* trucks, so at least you can say that you didn't see it coming."
I *see* what you did there.
Replied On Feb 11th 2011:
End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 39, 40, 41
Wow. That was... a lot of information she'd been missing out on. There was no way she was going to get through everything before the period ended, so she decided that a trip to the Library was in order. She copy and pasted the URL and DM'd it to herself so that she wouldn't have to go hunting for it again- the videos were something she really wanted to see, but if she grabbed the headphones off the computer then Mrs. Knott would know for a fact that Taylor was already finished with her assignment.
Instead, she began with the press release and flicking between the links from the Frontline page and the PRT press release she would have to agree with Star_Gazer's thoughts; they tried to capitalize on the success of Frontline and it ended up biting them in the ass. It seemed so... juvenile and very much unlike what she thought the PRT would do; there had to be a reason for it, right? Maybe someone didn't edit the standard press release format enough to properly convey what happened?
PHO was split, with one half ridiculing the PRT for 'stepping on their own dicks' to get a statement out ahead of Frontline, only to get slapped upside the head with the truth of the matter: they only showed up to arrest the gangers, and that was it. The other half was sort of aligned with Taylor's thoughts- there shouldn't be a reason for them to make such a move without it being a mistake, right? Somewhere along the line it must have skipped someone's hands to get it posted in that particular format.
A small group of others believed that this was par for the course for the PRT nationwide, not just in Brockton Bay; the PRT has guidelines for how to play up the government's involvement during good times, and how to shift the blame during bad optics if you listened to one of the forum-goers who claimed to be a former PR person for the PRT but was under NDAs so heavy he couldn't say more. He was shouted down and boosted up in equal measure.
Her father would probably shake his head and say something along the lines of "That's what big government does, sweetie". He was a Union man, through and through- fighting with the government over every little thing was what he did for a living.
Well, that was if she could get him to talk about anything nowadays. She knew that he worked a lot to secure work for the other Union members so they could feed their families, and that the overtime he worked kept food in their pantry and the lights on, but it didn't make his absence hurt any less. This was compounded by the fact that she couldn't talk to him about all the things she wanted to because he would fly off the handle once he found out that it was Emma who put her in the hospital.
She honestly didn't think Uncle Alan or Aunt Zoe knew anything about it.
Taylor shook her head and kept perusing the forums, swinging by the text version of the Frontline AMA, which included introductions for all of the current members.
All thirty-five members!?
Was this what Greg was yammering on about?
This was probably the single largest collection of Capes in North America! To her knowledge, only Endbringer or S-Class call-outs garnered those kinds of numbers, and here Frontline was fielding the kind of numbers that would make any city in America weep in relief.
What was more of a shock though, was the admission that ART556 was a Striker/Changer/Trump that could help people change into their idealized forms. There was a subconscious component that she had no control over, and it took time for it to work, but if it was used enough then the change would be permanent. Stronger, faster, smarter (if your ideal self was smarter), and in Taylor's opinion, ridiculously aesthetic.
Screen captures of each member of Frontline were blown up really big as they all wore civilian clothes and unique domino masks to conceal their identities.
Some of the women were tall and muscular while still being very feminine, others were the very paragon of feminine beauty, and others were smaller but still incredibly beautiful. All of them were 'model status' or beyond... Emma could never hope to compare to them.
Groups of six women took turns sitting on a large, comfortable-looking couch eating massive bowls of ice cream, and they each answered three questions - one for the group, one for their team, and one personal question. Obviously, the questions were carefully selected, but some pretty hard-hitting questions were asked by the audience that Taylor was surprised that they answered at all.
[This transcription typed up by Jimmytypes, Infoispower2, and Anygivensunday. Please forgive the spelling or grammatical errors there was a LOT for us to transcribe!]
She quirked her lip at the disclaimer.
►Bagrat (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Replied On Feb 12th 2011:
M16A1 You seem to be nominally the Vice-Commander for this group, so let me ask this: How did you get so many Capes onto a single team without them killing each other? I happen to know more than a few 'guys who know some guys' and they tell me that sometimes they butt heads more often than not, even in the Protectorate. How do you balance that all out?
►M16A1_Official (Verified Cape) (Frontline Member_Alpha Team)
Replied On Feb 12th 2011:
*looks at camera. pauses to think. looks off camera. nods.*
"To answer your question, Bagrat, we maintain harmony within our ranks for two reasons: One, as Vector ( Vector45_Official) answered Skill_Gap's question, all of us are prior military- Army, Air Force, Navy, Marine Corps, Coast Guard, and PRT. We are all used to working in an operational environment where we have a mission and we put everything else aside to accomplish that mission. Sometimes tempers can flare, but when the armor is put on we leave all of our greivances behind in the locker room, so to speak. Out there, against the gangs, everyone is trying to kill you because you are standing in the way of their illegal operations.
They don't want to warn you off, they don't want to scare you away. They fire live bullets at your face because they want to kill you. With that kind of pressure you have to have complete trust in one another, to not get distracted by petty arguments. When you clear a room, your sweep needs to be on point because there are others coming through that door behind you. When you're in a gunfight with civilians around you need to be clear-headed so that your target acquisition is on-point; if you strike a civilian, even with the tranquilizers we use, that could have lasting, far-reaching consequences for everyone involved."
"The second part to your question is that... the majority of the team aren't Capes. We don't have the Corona Pollentia or Gemmas to even Trigger. We are all enhanced by a small collection of powers, and through the creation and use of our weapons, aircraft, and power armor thanks to our dedicated team of Tinkers. I am a cape, with powers that I choose not to use for the sake of our unit cohesion and to keep tactics streamlined without having to worry about esoteric effects changing how we operate, but I won't speak any more on the matter. Just know that we are mostly mundane people with the training, tools, and willpower to see out mission to clear Brockton Bay of all criminal elements through. Next question."
It was stilting a little bit to see a Hero team, or any Cape for that matter, being so open and free with their information. She was still a long way away from going out herself, and she would go out, but Taylor wouldn't dream of telling everyone exactly what her powers were or how they worked, not like Frontline did. Granted, scrolling through the transcripts she didn't see anything too damning, but there was certainly enough for someone to take advantage of.
The gangs mainly, that was her worry, but Frontline seemed more worried about making sure the public knew enough about them to feel comfortable with the newest group of protectors to allow them continued free reign within the city. They had the people's support, and with their own platform that meant the PRT couldn't control the "narrative" as Xx_Void_Cowboy_xX pointed out; he was right and people agreed with him up until he started raising Master concerns about all of the beautiful women on the team with only a single man.
►ART_556 (Verified Cape) (Frontline Member_Alpha Team)
Replied On Feb 12th 2011:
*grins smugly at the camera. hides her smugness poorly behind her hand*
"Ho ho ho ho ho. We don't need to fear Horizon, Horizon needs to fear us! You hear that Horizon!? I'm coming for that booty! I'm a warrior!"
*gets dragged off screen as a new member takes her place. Newcomer identified as Grizzly tilts her sunglasses on her head and waves to camera*
"Hiyah, Grizzly here. I would say that there aren't any Masters here, and that would be true, buuuuuuuuut there aren't any Masters here. Seriously. Get a life, Void Cowboy. If there were more Masters capable of being the next Heartbreaker we'd know about it. The boss man is a Tinker with a fairly broad skill set, but he mainly provides us all with the power armors that you see us use. LTLX7000 is our aircraft Tinker, PSG-1 is an optics Tinker, and HK41 is our resident coal monkey- she makes all of our weapons in an antique coal-fired forge of all things. Super weird to see her take a hunk of steel and pound it into the shape of a rifle. What follows is a neasea inducing series of cutting, filing, sanding, checking, testing, and painting. Watching her tiny form flit throughout the forge like a fox on caffine is as disturbing as it is amusing."
►HK_G41_Official
Replied On Feb 12th 2011:
*blinks cutely at the camera, mouth wide. blinks again. looks at Grizzly*
"Ah, yes. I make the weapons. I make all sorts of weapons. Some big. Some small. If it goes 'pew' or 'boom' that I made that. Yes. Me."
*stares off camera. hands twitch in time with ears and tail. hops off couch and leaves*
*Grizzly smiles awkwardly*
"We have a few more Tinkers in the bunch, and all of us put together can create some pretty amazig things. However- as you can see, something about that conversation set her off, so, uh, I'm gonna go make sure she doesn't try to make a cannon again. Can uh, someone come take our spots please? K thnx bye!"
A small bell icon popped up in the corner of Taylor's desktop screen, and she blinked. Her leisure time was up. The teen dragged her project into the 'Completed' folder of the Shared Drive and cleared her search history out of habit before shutting the computer down; the school's computers had an auto-format function to keep the systems as clean as possible, likely to make up for the terrible quality of the machines. They were almost seven years out of date- she was sure that Arcadia never had to put up with the terrible computers inflicted upon the students of Winslow.
The only consolation was that these machines were still better than the ones in the school's library, now those were positively Jurassic.
To be fair the computer she would be using at the public library wouldn't be much better either.
With her computer shut down and restarted, Taylor grabbed her bag and stood up, and waited by the door of the classroom for less than a minute until the bell. When the bell rang Taylor was out the door like a fast-walking shot.
Taylor was a bit surprised that the Trio hadn't beaten her to the front door, but that was fine in her opinion- fuck'em.
She walked down the cracked concrete front path of the school and moved down towards the bus lane in the school parking lot; she didn't ride the bus as she was only a few blocks from the school, but the students rushing and running to hop onto their yellow, vehicular escape pods provided her some cover. Not much considering the Tres Putas had the back of her head and slouched posture memorized by now, but it was enough to make a clean get-away sometimes. Auntie Zoe, when she was early, was more than enough to get Emma to let up lest her shrewish nature be revealed.
Her eyes were tracking her left, right, and rear- Taylor on the lookout for anything that might preclude something unpleasant. However, when she moved through the crowds waiting to get onto the busses and crossed the battle-scarred asphalt of the parking lot she was a bit surprised, pleasantly, to see that her tormenters were nowhere to be found.
Still, she didn't let herself relax.
She crossed the lot, got onto the sidewalk, and headed towards the bus stop down the street with her bus pass in hand. There was a group of Letterjacketed jocks that were walking behind her a few dozen paces, but they didn't seem to be paying her any mind. Her eyes went back forward to observe the bus stop, but when the jeering and grabass quieted down behind her she looked back to see the five teens- who were all a lot bigger and stronger than her- now eyeing her intently. One of them stepped a little too far to left, no longer concealing the thick roll of duct tape in the jock's hands behind him.
Upon meeting the eyes of the brown-haired boy and seeing his lip curl, Taylor knew that this was what Sophia had been referencing.
Taylor's heart began hammering in her chest and she felt her gorge rise. What the fuck were they going to do with duct tape of all things? Had this been before the Locker she would have assumed they would do something stupid like duct tape her to a light post, but after having almost been murdered by the Trio her mind went in a much, much darker direction.
She started sprinting down the street, rushing towards the bus stop as fast as her legs could carry her. She only looked back just once to confirm that they were chasing her- YES THEY WERE- and her eyes went back forward again, just in time to avoid smacking into a trashcan. She had a good lead on them to start with, but with every step she took they seemed to take two steps; their strides were longer and it was only a matter of time before they caught up to her.
There was no light at the end of the tunnel for her though- upon rounding the corner of the building and seeing down the street there was no one waiting at the bus stop. No one to help her. Tears spilled down her cheeks as her lungs felt like they were on fire. She had never run like this before, mainly because there had never been anywhere to run to- her tormenters were all in a box called Winslow and she was stuck with them. Running was pointless, at least until she got her powers and learned how to circumnavigate the school as quickly as possible.
She made it halfway down the street when one of the boys caught up to her and grabbed onto her backpack, dragging her backward before throwing her into the alleyway she was passing. A cry escaped her lips, but there wasn't anyone around to hear her. Tears fell freely as pain shot up her limbs as she tumbled down the alleyway, trash being tossed in all directions as her legs knocked over a can.
"A, haa-haa, fitting place for you, Heebert. Haa-haa. In the fucking trash." One of the boys- no, one of her attackers - spoke out. "Fucking making us chase you down, haa-haa, what a bitch."
"Can you believe this girl? Haa-haa," Another spoke out, but Taylor was too busy slipping her glasses back onto her face and trying her damnedest to not swarm these fuckers with her bugs. It would blow her identity, and would likely get her arrested, even though these boys attacked her.
"Fuck'n A, Heebert, shouldn't you be happy about, haa-haa, having some handsome guys like us chase after you?"
There was some chuckling as the assaulters resumed grabassing, then the attacker with the duct tape stepped forward and pulled a long length of it with a caustic 'sssshhhhhrrrrriiiiiittttttt'. "Don't fight us, and this will all be over soon-"
"You think this is enough for cause, 74?" A smooth feminine voice spoke out, and Taylor's head shot towards the roof of the building, and her jaw dropped at the sight of a woman in blue and white power armor. In her hand was a large revolver, and she spun the action on it before clicking it shut.
Another woman appeared right next to her, wearing the same armor with a slightly different color scheme- she also had a light jacket over the top of it. She held some kind of assault rifle in her hand, and she cocked it menacingly; the woman spoke in a heavy Russian accent. "Da, zis zhould be more zan enouv."
She hadn't felt any of them with her bugs. Granted there weren't that many on the roof-
"Oh, fuck." One of Taylor's attackers spoke, and they didn't even get to turn around before they were already under incredibly accurate fire- tranquilizer darts sprouting from one's shoulder, another catching his calf, another hitting a buttock, another the back of the thigh, and the final one in the forearm as he tried to vault over the trashcan that was knocked over.
They attempted to stand up, but within a few seconds they were stumbling listlessly and then slumped to the ground unconscious.
She hadn't even realized that she had been pulled out of the alleyway and sat down on the curb, the arms of the Russian woman wrapped around her while armored fingers carded through Taylor's hair. She was singing a song, but the words were in Russian. Though she didn't need to know what she was saying to take comfort in the gesture.
A few minutes later a squad car pulled up and two police officers got out, "Hey, Senior Patrolman Cox, and this my junior, Wilson. What do you got for us, Python?"
Taylor peeled her head away from the Russian woman's shoulder to look up at the woman named Python. Hadn't see seen her on the AMA photos? The woman's painted lips smiled weakly before they turned into a severe frown. "Five male suspects, possible juveniles, based on the Winslow letter jackets."
She held up a hand and fanned out five Winslow student ID cards before handing them over to the police officer, and upon seeing them he grunted under his breath. "Fucking christ."
"We started patrolling this area today, as part of our initiative to make sure the other gangs didn't get any ideas about the territory the Merchants lost. We were up on top of that building over there- had a clear sightline on the school. This young woman was walking across the street when the... suspects started to follow her. We observed one pull out an object, but we couldn't see what it was, so while we relocated to the next building for a better vantage point we caught sight of them chasing her down and tossing her into this alleyway."
She pulled out a tablet from the pouch on her back and tapped something, "If you'll permit me?"
"Please, Python, video is always King, show us what you got," the officer spoke before turning to mumble some words into the microphone attached to his lapel.
It was somewhat harrowing to hear her own ragged breathing play from the speakers on the tablet, and hearing the taunts and jeers made her skin crawl.
'sssshhhhhrrrrriiiiiittttttt'.
"Don't fight us, and this will all be over soon-"
Taylor shivered but she didn't shy away, the young woman swallowing and standing up on her feet; she didn't know when the blue and white blanket had been draped over her shoulders, but that didn't stop her from tugging it closed.
The grip the officer had on his handgun was tight enough that she could hear the plastic grip creaking. "Yeah, yeah, this would be more than enough. Hey, can you wake one of that fuck-knuckle up for me? The one in the middl, I want to ask him some questions."
"Certainly," Python reached down and a needle popped out of the tip of her pinky finger and she poked the attacker who'd had the duct tape.
Within a minute he started groaning, and when he came too the teen was wide-eyed and yelling- he tried to lash out but his wrists had been flexi-cuffed behind his back and his ankles were cuffed too. "Ahhhhhh! Shi-! Shi-! Fuck!"
The Officer spit on the ground and knelt down onto a knee. "Shut the fuck up. Shut the fuck up, you understand me!? I said SHUT! THE! FUCK! UP!"
The att- boy did indeed shut up, but his chest was still heaving at a hundred miles per hour. "Yu-yes."
"Good, good. Now, this is how this is going to go down. I'm going to ask you some questions, and this is very important-"
"Uh, Officer Cox- we aren't supposed-"
"Shut the fuck up, Wilson. I know this boy's father, have all my life. If the Board wants to bench me they can do so, but not until after I find out why."
"M-mr. Cox, ah- I," He stammered out, but flinched when the officer's collapsable baton struck the concrete with a loud crack.
"You get one shot to answer me correctly, and depending on that answer you might be going away for a long, long time, Landon. You're almost 18, and with what you're looking at? That's enough to get you tried as an adult- 15 years at the minimum. Maybe more. You really want that? To go to the fucking Pen and get out when you're fucking 40?"
"Officer Cox, I must insist sir, you-"
"Shut the FUCK up, Wilson. If you can't comport yourself appropriately, then get in the fucking car." His tone was biting as he gestured at the vehicle with his baton.
The younger officer swallowed heavily, "I will be calling this in. Don't be surprised if the next car comes to take you into cuffs."
"Fucking let'im." He growled before turning his attention back to 'Landon', "Now, where was I? Oh, yes, 40 fucking years, Landon. Your parents might be long dead by the time you get out."
"Sh-she told us to! She told us to chas-chase Heebert down, rough her up a little bit! Sc-scare her! Let h-her know that she sh-shouldn't show up to school anymore! Th-thats it! I swear, Mr. Cox!" He blubbered with tears streaming down his face as he wiggled and squirmed like a... like a worm on the concrete.
"That's nice and all, but who, who told you?" He spoke again, much more softly this time, "Who told you to do it, Landon."
"Hess, she told us too," Landon spat out, "Had blackmail on Rich, caught him getting fucked by some dude who's a known skinhead. Said she'd spread the word and if his parents or that guy's family found out then Rich would end up dead; his boyfriend literally. You can't be a faggot and be in the Empire."
Taylor felt her jaw loosen up just a touch.
She... she had been terrified. Afraid for her life more than her virtue; that was just a thing, a thing she couldn't get back, but a thing nonetheless. Her mother had friends who could have helped her- her mother was sort of a wild feminist back in the day; Rape support groups were... distressingly common in Brockton Bay. Those women managed to survive the experience, some never recovered, but Taylor liked to think that she could come back stronger. Not a victim. Never a victim; her mother was the type to harp on that, but she didn't understand why her mother insisted on having a gun in the house while her father believed that most problems should be solved with his fists.
He still had that shotgun, though it was mainly just a prop for the dad jokes about when Taylor brought home a boy.
She understood now, what her mother meant. She was smaller than these boys. Weaker. There wasn't any conceivable way she could have fought her way out of this situation without resorting to eye-gouging and other things that were lethal. There was no telling what they would have done to her in retaliation, not that the threat of reprisal would have stopped her from ripping and tearing.
Taylor's eyes drifted to the two large revolvers on Colt Python's thigh plates. The woman caught her staring, and with a small smile, she pulled it out and reloaded it with some plastic-looking shells before spinning the cylinder shut with a resounding 'click'.
The firearm was the great equalizer between men and women.
'I get it now, mom.'
"Sophia Hess, who is that and why should I care?" The officer spoke more firmly this time, "I'm going to need evidence of that."
"Uh- Track Star. Black chick, athletic, super popular. B-back pocket of Rich over there, his phone should have the messages she sent him. S-she told him to delete them, but Rich didn't."
Python reached into 'Rich's' pocket and pulled out a phone before sliding a device onto the side of it, and the phone unlocked with a 'click'. "Got a copy of it. You want it?"
"Oh, I'm going to want everything," Officer Cox stood up and worked out his stiff knee, "Though you'll probably have to give it to someone else other than me. Put him back to sleep, will ya?"
Python pricked him again, and within a few seconds, he was dozing again.
Taylor could only stare at Landon's unconscious body.
It didn't absolve him. It didn't. However, it wasn't as cut and dry as she would have liked. She knew that the Empire made good on its promises to remove 'deviant elements' from their ranks. Not wanting his friend to be killed was admirable, but that didn't change the thrill and anticipation on his face as he pulled that duct tape out.
"Zis changes nothing, girl." The Russian woman spoke, "No matter vat, zese boys have no excuse."
They took her name and within a few minutes her father was called up, because of course every cop in the city knew her dad. The boys were picked up and dragged away, but the two Capes from Frontline stayed by her side the entire time.
Officer Cox was stripped of his badge and weapon belt, which he turned over with a smile on his face. Before his fellows moved him into a BBPD van he looked at her. "They ain't walking, kid. What I did was... shortsighted, but there ain't a District Attorney one that would advocate for those boys walking."
Taylor didn't understand. "Why are they taking Officer Cox away?"
Perhaps she should have paid more attention to Law & Order while she was home on her medical leave instead of just imagining drowning Emma in bugs.
"When it comes to minors under the age of 18, it's... illegal to question them without a parent or a lawyer appointed by a parent," Python spoke out calmly, the woman wrapping an arm over her shoulder- she was just tall enough to do so with her armored boots boosting her height, "It's possible that the boy's admission could be thrown out of the courtroom."
"So... so they'd just walk away?" Taylor hissed. Where was the justice in that!?
"No, only Landon's testimony would be thrown out, there are still four more suspects that weren't questioned, and I have an inkling that they'll roll over just as easily as he did," She shook her head, her tresses shaking in the slight breeze, "They won't want to take the fall for this Sophia Hess."
"Da, zis Hess seems to be khuite ze charaktar. No vey vill they take ze fall." The Russian cape sounded pretty damn sure, but that was cold comfort. Not that she would- could ever be angry at the first cop that looked like he gave a shit.
"Do you know anything about her? Why she's targeting you?" Python pressed gently, "Anything at all, it could help make the case against the boys a lot easier."
Taylor blinked. Should she? Could she? She held it in this long, but that was before- no one was willing to listen to her. Would they take her words more seriously now?
She winced. One of the biggest reasons she stopped screaming at the top of her lungs was because of her dad; how would he react if he learned that his best friend's daughter tried to murder her?
Though, wasn't that cat out of the bag already? He was on his way, and knowing her father it would be pedal to the metal with no fucks given. Hell, he might even get pulled over on the way down from the Docks.
She swallowed. This... was something she could do. With what happened here, with the testimony from her attackers this would be enough to re-open her case, right?
She wasn't going to cower. She could stand. She could overcome.
Taylor Hebert wanted to become a Hero, and how could she stand up to defend others if she couldn't stand up for herself?
"Sophia Hess, Emma Barnes, and Madison Clements attempted to murder me, back in January at the beginning of the school year," She began. It was hard, recounting the events again for the fifth time, but she had a feeling that this time would be different.
She didn't realize that two officers had stopped writing their reports and were now standing in front of her with pens writing furiously on paper, and when her father arrived, voice roaring and arms flailing, but despite his volatility Colt Python was able to calm him down with extraordinary care; it helped that she was a lot stronger than him with her power armor.
She didn't pay attention to him, not because she didn't care, but because the moment she acknowledged him the dam would burst and she would be in no state to tell her story again.
Already, unknown to the officers and Frontline capes, the swarms within the buildings were crawling around and fighting each other, tearing each other apart as she tried to dredge up every single memory of every hurt, every torment she suffered, and put it into words so that the officers flipping pages could capture everything. She would show them her notebooks. She would show them the nasty emails she printed off and give them access to her school emails. She would name names, of everyone who was present at her attempted murder and did nothing to help, and she would pray to God that there was some footage on their phones to make the case.
She prayed that Sophia Hess and Madison Clements would get what was coming to them.
After a moment she added Emma Barnes to that list as well. There was no way that she didn't help coordinate this assault.
She was her sister, but it wasn't Taylor who tossed her aside, it was the other way around.
When it was all said and done Taylor didn't see Python handing the police officers some SD cards. She didn't hear the Cape promise to take this public if this information got 'lost'.
All Taylor Hebert felt was her father's arms wrapped around her body and pulling her close, securing the blanket up around her and carrying her to the truck.
His thin arms never felt so strong before, nor his hands so big. Not since she was a little girl.
They drove home in silence, and after she got showered and changed into her clothes she crawled into her mother's bed and fell asleep in her father's arms.
Taylor Hebert had survived her ordeal. She made a promise that she would come out of this stronger than ever. More determined. She would be capable. She would never let this happen to her again.
She would become a great Hero, and protect others like Python and that nameless Russian cape that had protected her.