The PRT is being given the chance to hang itself.
One thing I'd like to note offhand is that political opinions, be they Taylor's, the cop's, or others, do not necessarily represent my own opinions.
Also, this chapter contains one almost-slur from a totally-not-a-Nazi-cop and also significant bigotry from the judge for the Canary case. You've been warned.
One AU element I never mentioned outright but hinted at in an earlier chapter is that Coil is currently a full-on Strike Commander at the PRT instead of just a consultant.
Just wanted to remind everyone that the Runes 1) play favorites and 2) cheat.
Also, uh… if you're not a fan of Aura Theory, here's a warning that I'm going to be using it at least a little here although it's not just the Aura, it's more… well, I'll let y'all read it in the chapter.
As it turned out, the best course of action, with regards to Emma, was to wait for the police to arrive, since Taylor's once-friend had gone unresponsive at some point between seeing Taylor stonewall Sophia with an energy barrier and the other girl's departure. That was fine, since neither of them had been smart enough to wear gloves and, according to the police, there were two sets of recent prints on the bottle of chloroform (which had been stolen from a lab in Medhall, apparently), so Sophia was unlikely to skate there.
"Mr. Truth! Good to see you," said her dad, drawing Taylor's attention to the arrival of their lawyer.
"I'm beginning to suspect he doesn't sleep," muttered Taylor under her breath, only halfway joking given how Panacea had thought it would take significantly longer for, say, Brandish's coworkers to bring suit with regards to the Winslow issue, not to mention his rapid arrival at O-Dark-Thirty.
Then, to the lawyer in question, she asked "So, uh… why did dad call you?"
As if rehearsed, Mr. Truth replied in unison with her father and Odin: "Never speak to police without a lawyer."
Taylor backed up away from all three of them, raising her hands. "Alright, sheesh. Is there a reason for that particular tidbit, or…"
"Castle Rock v. Gonzalez, 2005, states that police have no duty to protect and/or serve the people even in the case of a legally obtained restraining order. Furthermore, anything you say can and will be used against you. Besides," said Mr. Truth, eyes flickering to Odin for the barest of instants as he lowered his voice, "in this town, I don't trust the police not to be in the gangs' hip pockets, even more than normal given the white supremacist presence in the city and the Empire's presence."
Odin's eye narrowed, while Taylor (who hadn't caught his eyes on Odin) just nodded in assent, eye wandering over to land on the (pale-skinned and blonde-haired) police officers standing outside the squad car. "Okay, that makes sense."
Further conversation was forestalled by a large black SUV rolling around a corner, high beams sweeping across the street, until the vehicle rumbled to a halt and a tall, dark-skinned man in a suit stepped out of the vehicle, buttoning his jacket as he moved.
"Aw, shit," said one of the cops, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Here comes that ni-Calvert asshat from the PRT again, stomping all over our goddamn jurisdiction."
Mr. Truth raised an eyebrow, then interposed himself between Taylor and the man in question. "Strike Commander Calvert, welcome back to the PRT. I must ask, what are you doing here? As far as we're concerned, this is a purely police issue, with all those involved being quote-unquote 'regular' humans."
"Mr. Truth, good to see you again," said Calvert, voice low and smooth. "And I'm afraid I can't comment on the issue beyond the fact that we have the reasonable suspicion that a cape was, in fact, involved, and that we're going to have to ask you to come in for questioning." He turned to the police officers. "My apologies, gentlemen!" he called, not sounding particularly apologetic. "Thank you for your service. I'd appreciate it if you sent over the information you have on this case as soon as you got back to the precinct."
"Yeah, whatever," replied the cop who had spoken, turning his back on the dark-skinned man. "The fuckin' audacity of those fuckin' people…" he grumbled under his breath, other cop following him back to the car with Emma stoically.
Calvert sighed. "Would that the Director were less heavy-handed," he muttered under his voice.
"So, Strike Commander Calvert," said Mr. Truth, emphasizing the man's title and causing his eyes to narrow just a hair, "come inside and we can talk about your questions."
The four living people and one not-quite-dead god entered the house, with Odin and Truth looking the most at ease (which made sense, since they were both probably experienced with dealing with the government).
"So," said Truth calmly, "ask your questions, Mr. Calvert."
"I'm, eh… afraid that was more of an excuse to get the police off your case, although I do have some questions for you after I let you know this. I'm sorry to say that Sophia Hess is the Ward known as Shadow Stalker, and that due to Director Piggot's orders, we are unable to bring her to heel."
"My client made me aware of the former, and a cursory scan of police records around the incident that caused the loss of her eye showed me the latter." Truth's eyes were flinty, but Taylor thought she saw amusement behind the resolve.
"Wait, what's this about Sophia having free reign?" asked Danny, fuming.
Calvert shifted, looking vaguely uncomfortable, and his pinky spasmed minutely, which only the ancient gods in the room noticed. "Ah, that's… a bit of a complex topic, Mr. Hebert. Ordinarily, Miss Hess would have been subject to imprisonment, since she is on probation for attempted murder even before her… attempt on your daughter. However, Director Piggot, in her infinite wisdom, has decided that the nature of the status quo as it stands requires as much parahuman muscle as she can get her hands on, so she's being rather lenient with the young woman. Incidentally," said the man, twitching slightly, "the Director has her eyes on you for that. Based on the hospital records and some admittedly circumstantial evidence around your excursion yesterday and your earlier visit to Vista, she has a strong suspicion that you are the new armored parahuman, and if scuttlebutt is to believed, she is attempting to find a way to force you into the Wards."
Taylor sighed. "Wonderful. I'm not sure whether to invoke Lewis on omnipotent amoral busybodies or Grey's Law."
"Er, isn't the Lewis quote on omnipotent moral busybodies? And what is Grey's Law?" asked Calvert, shivering slightly.
"In this case, amoral fits better. And Grey's Law states that sufficiently advanced incompetence is indistinguishable from malice."
Calvert managed to smother a laugh in a cough, then winced as he bit his cheek. "Quite."
Later, when the tall PRT Commander had left, Mr. Truth shook his head. "Don't trust Calvert. I know the man's history and… suffice it to say that there's some ulterior motive behind his actions."
Danny snorted. "There always is, in this fucking town." He sighed, rubbing his temples. "So, Mr. Truth, what do we do now?"
"At this point, the judiciary has no choice but to intervene, but given your situation I wouldn't say that's any guarantee of your safety. I would suggest being in public as a precaution. Taylor, maybe consider hanging out with your friends in New Wave or Vista, and Danny, stay at work if you can."
"I… uh, okay, will do. One question, though. What the heck was up with you telling me not to go to school then telling me to go to school?" asked Taylor.
Mr. Truth sighed. "It's complicated, but it essentially boils down to politics. The PRT has enough pull to force the truancy issue, if we let it get bad enough, and they have a lot of the local judges in their pockets, and they were willing to use these judges against you. However, at this point, we have proof-" he opened his suit jacket enough to show the voice recorder in his inside pocket, here "-that the individual who attempted to murder you twice is all but PRT-sanctioned and furthermore that she attends your school. That should be enough to force any prosecutor attempting to push a truancy angle to back down. If the4y make the frankly idiotic decision to go after you for the use of a parahuman power in your own home to defend yourself against an intruder who can be all but proven to be using deadly force… well, Castle Doctrine should carry the day here."
Danny sighed. "Fucking politicians."
"Indeed," replied Truth sagely.
"…and she just up and left?" asked Victoria, frowning as they ambled along the Boardwalk. "That doesn't sound like Shadow Stalker."
"Pretty much," said Taylor, in between bites of mint chip ice cream. "Best theory we could come up with is that somehow the rune I used was able to partially bypass her Breaker state and cause her direct injury, but at this point it's just conjecture."
"I guess that makes sense," replied Vicky, taking a lick of her own cone of honeycomb. "Powers interact super weird with each other, and whatever it is you have isn't a power so it probably interferes with how us plebeians actually work."
"Ladies and gentlemen," snarked Amy, gesturing at her sister with the cup of affogato in her right hand, "Arcadia's 2011 Valedictorian."
"Hey!" protested the blonde, aura flaring with indignation that washed over the two godlings walking at her side. "I resemble that remark!"
"Of course you do," replied Amy. "Anyways, yeah, it's plausible, given the way that your weird magic powers interact with regular parahuman powers and… oh, mother fuck of a shit! That's why that happened!"
"Wait, what?" asked Taylor, blinking at the sudden non sequitr.
"Okay, so Vicky, remember that crush I used to have on you?"
"Yeah, what of it?" asked Victoria, frowning as if she already knew where the conversation was going and didn't like it.
"Yeah, I think that was actually a result of the way your power propagates interfering with my power. See, since it was hooked into… whatever it was that it picked up on another world for power, it had to use a nonstandard connection, which threw off my neurochemistry, and when combined with the way your aura interacts with brains, it must have caused some issues, and my power probably didn't do anything to fix it because it didn't think it was a problem." She paused for a moment, as if casting her mind back to remember how her power changing had altered her neurochemistry. "Fuck, that's exactly what happened."
Taylor, formerly gobsmacked, just sighed, Odin snorting at her side. "Gods damn it, powers really are dumb."
"You can say that again." Amy turned around, spoon halfway to her mouth, to see that Victoria had stopped walking. "Vicky? What's up?"
"So let me get this straight," replied the blonde, eyes wide with horror. "I Mastered you into falling in love with me, then now you're free you're… what, totally fine with it?"
Amy frowned. "We literally just established that it was my dumbass power doing that with maybe a helping hand from yours. Are you okay?"
"No!" shouted Victoria, drawing attention to their small group. "How could I be when I essentially-"
"She's spiraling, lass. Help her," said Odin quietly.
Taylor frowned, taking a moment to concentrate on the effect she wanted, then flicked a finger, leaving a glowing gold ansuz rune to flicker to life atop Victoria's head for a moment, concealed against the backdrop of her golden hair.
"Victoria," said Taylor calmly, calling on ansuz herself for the inspiration and silver tongue it granted her and naudiz to divert attention away from them. "You're not thinking rationally. You need to understand how it was a result of your power rather than anything malicious on your part."
"Of course I'm not thinking rationally! I mastered my own sister into loving me!"
Taylor winced as the blonde's aura pushed at the limits of what shielding she could provide while maintaining two other runes at the same time.
"You want to blame someone," she snapped, "blame the alien space whale that configured and gave out the goddamn things! You didn't know that that's how the thing worked, so calm the fuck down before I do it for you."
Victoria blinked, shocked into silence by Taylor's anger. "I- what?"
"You're no more at fault than your boyfriend is. Now come on, you're ruining the fucking mood and I didn't ask to hang out with you two to get bogged down in fighting over fucking power incontinence." Taylor beckoned, and after a moment, Victoria followed.
"Sorry, you two, I just… got a bit carried away." She paused for a moment. "Wait, why isn't everyone filming us?"
"Oh, simple. I diverted attention away from us." Having said that, Taylor allowed the flow of power into the runes she was maintaining to stop, with the effects decaying to nothing over a period of a few seconds.
"Damn," replied Victoria. "That's a handy trick."
Once Victoria caught up with the other two capes, Amy wrapped her sister in a tight hug. "I love you as my sister, Vicky. I have since before you got your powers, and just because my power made me a little confused doesn't stop me from being your sister, okay? I just… I just think you have shitty taste in boyfriends."
"Aww, now isn't this touching."
The three capes all whirled on the source of the voice, revealing a number of individuals covered in leather and bone crammed into an alleyway. At the front was a huge man, almost eight feet at the shoulder, with a minigun in one hand and a club in the other. Immediately behind him stood a far more recognizable cape, that being Animos."
"That's her, boss," replied the Changer, jerking his chin at Taylor. "That's the bitch that fought with Quarrel and Vista."
"In that case," snarled the Butcher, teeth bared, "blondie dies first, then the healer bitch, so we can take our time with the stupid cunt who decided to stand in our way."
"Oh fuck," said Victoria.
Taylor was inclined to agree.
Judge James Ratnick of Boston had expected a relatively quiet day. It was a forgivable expectation, since the Butcher had taken most of the Teeth with him out of the city in pursuit of Quarrel down in Brockton Bay and none of the other major players in the city were prone to acting out to nearly the same degree, so he assumed that he'd be able to take a day and get caught up on the paperwork for the Canary case he had been scheduled to take.
It was a travesty, what the shrewish bitch had done to that poor boy. Fortunately, they'd managed to get him to a surgeon in time to save the… appendage… that he'd been Mastered into removing, although not without significant loss in the ability to… perform, at least according to the doctors.
So, of course, the brat who couldn't take a compliment had to go to the Birdcage. If they couldn't rely on them to keep themselves in order, then perhaps fear would do the trick, and he would use every dirty trick and unsavory favor he could call in to make it so. They couldn't afford for women to get uppity again. Boston couldn't afford a second coming of Lustrum, with her filthy trannies cutting off the… organs… of good, upstanding men and Mastering them into claiming it was voluntary. They were all in asylums for Master victims, and based on the news he'd heard from the staff at the facility his brother had been sent to, there had been no signs of improvement and they were even considering allowing them out into the world under their own judgment.
Preposterous. They couldn't be allowed out into society until the Master effect had been completely purged from them on the off chance that it could propagate from its victims, and hopefully purged from the victims' minds.
You would be forgiven for thinking that he didn't deserve to be undisturbed to plot against Canary, as you most definitely wouldn't be the only one.
The man's plans were abruptly disrupted by the entry of an armored cape to his office, his hand halfway to a panic button before he recognized the ears atop the cape's helmet, and he groaned.
"Mouse Protector, what in the name of Mike are you doing here?" he snapped. While not nearly as bad as Lustrum, she was still annoying and subversive to the fabric of society.
"Stopping you from making a grave mistake, Judge Ratnick!" she shouted, her unnaturally cheery voice grating on his eardrums.
"Trespassing is still trespassing, young lady. Explain yourself at once."
"Of course! See, I was made aware of your plans around the trial of one Paige Mcabee, more specifically your desire to use it as a precedent to scare off the dastardly Masters that prey on humans, such as the one you believe that destroyed your brother's life, never mind that Lustrum never employed a Master and you just can't accept the existence of trans people, never mind that Paige Mcabee was the victim of sexual harassment by her alleged victim, never mind that her ability activated against her wishes and that the action he took was directed by his own subconscious desire to get back at her. So, good sir, if you continue down this path, I will be forced to take action. You have been warned, dastardly villain!" She rapped him on the head with her sword, which let out an incongruous "bonk" sound, and then vanished with a very mouselike squeak.
The judge just blinked, gobsmacked, then hardened his heart and continued with his efforts to sink Canary. They couldn't afford to let Masters like this just walk around without putting the fear of God in their heart, not after what they'd let Heartbreaker get away with.
Secure in the knowledge that history would vindicate him, Judge Ratnick ignored Mouse Protector's warning, and in so doing, signed his own career's death warrant.
In the distance, a coyote howled.
And that's that!
Current Horny Jail denizens Siberian, Manton, Hemorrhagia, Quarrel, Ratnick.
I don't have enough left in the tank to update the WoG post on the forum sites tonight, so hopefully at some point after I wake up…
That's about it, so read, review, enjoy, and have a nice day!
