Taylor toyed with her pen absently, her attention on the article on her laptop rather than the class. Professor Gladly had sidetracked the lecture to chat with a handful of the students in the front row of the lecture hall; a quick glance around the room told Taylor that most of the other students had all but abandoned the lecture. Instead, take the opportunity to chip away at homework or file out of the lecture hall.
Taylor's thoughts were elsewhere, though. Last night had been her first night in costume since she'd gotten her powers three months ago, but it hadn't gone at all as she'd expected. Taylor had eavesdropped on some ABB members on the street, only for Lung of all people to join the huddle and divulge that they were planning to kill some people—Taylor had assumed they were innocent people then. She'd intervened with her bugs, but it shouldn't have been much of a surprise that they didn't have much effect on Lung. She might've died back there, when Lung had figured out her location, but someone she hadn't seen shot him, and Lung had fallen back to the street.
Taylor would've run. She should've, but she was almost awestruck when she watched him get back up. And, when she thought it couldn't get any stranger, monsters—that she now understood were dogs—had ambushed Lung in his dazed state.
She'd tried to fight Lung, met a small group of villains she couldn't find anything about online, and met Armsmaster. Christ, Armsmaster. He had been hostile at first, likely because Lung was mauled and Taylor was the only other Cape present; she didn't hold it against him, even if he did rub her the wrong way initially. Taylor explained the situation to Armsmaster: that she was new to the Cape scene, that she was a hero, and that Lung was taken down by a villain group that had shown up at the last minute.
Taylor's attention came back to the present—to the article.
"The notorious leader of the Azn Bad Boys, Lung, was brought into custody last night—maimed and barely conscious. Armsmaster, the hero responsible for Lung's arrest, denies any involvement in the villain's injuries, claiming that Lung was brought down by an opposing villain group. Witness accounts suggest that said villains were likely a relatively new group to Brockton Bay, the Undersiders."
The rest of the article was mostly speculation and gossip; Taylor closed her laptop. Armsmaster hadn't mentioned her, or the author of the article didn't think she was important enough to mention. She'd rather go with the first option. Regardless, her involvement was at least being ignored, which was good—or so Armsmaster had convinced her. The article did offer Taylor one invaluable piece of information, though. The Undersiders' name.
She cautioned with a parting glance at the front of the lecture hall. Gladly was still preoccupied with the students in the front row, so Taylor tucked her laptop into her bag, threw it over her shoulder, and left. Taylor was grateful for the comfortable weather as she waited for the next bus, and even more so that the bus stop she'd chosen was vacant. The ride home was just as uneventful, and Taylor considered how uncanny it all felt. It was almost unnerving to see how normal everything was in comparison to what had happened last night. She hadn't expected her first fight with a villain to be so hectic; if you could consider what had happened, it was a fight at all. She could still remember the panic that tore through her when she saw Lung clawing his way to her, scaling a building like it was nothing.
The screeching of the bus's brakes pulled Taylor from her thoughts. It was her stop, and it was only a ten-minute walk to her house from there. Her dad wasn't home, and he wouldn't be for another few hours. Only a few years ago, her father would've been concerned to see Taylor home before him, but college had given Taylor the gift of a flexible schedule. She enjoyed a degree of freedom she hadn't had in high school, and she'd taken full advantage of it.
Taylor tossed her bag onto the kitchen table and removed her laptop, the device connecting automatically to their home Internet. Typing "the Undersiders" into the search bar gave Taylor plenty of results that offered little information, but a specific forum post titled "Bug" caught Taylor's attention.
"Bug, I appreciated the help last night. I'd like to thank you. Want to meet? -TT"
It didn't take long for Taylor to understand what the post was referring to, and "TT" had to be Tattletale—the talkative blond from last night. Taylor had no idea what Tattletale's power was. Maybe limited precognition; she could've seen that Taylor would search for information on the Undersiders and left this post up for Taylor to find. A lump formed in Taylor's throat as she considered her next action; regardless if Tattletale was a precog, psychic, or whatever else, Taylor had to be careful.
This could be an excellent opportunity for Taylor to put herself on the map. From what she could tell, the Undersiders were an unknown, and Tattletale was offering Taylor an in. It could be a trap. Taylor let that thought linger, trying her best to weigh the pros and cons.
"TT. Where? -Bug"
Taylor chewed on her thumb as she looked over the one word. This was a really big risk; Taylor had no idea if this was a trap and she was walking right into it, or if "TT" was even who Taylor thought she was. Almost in defiance of her own concern, Taylor posted the message. Tattletale's response was almost immediate.
"G, R, and I will meet you at the same spot we crossed paths at last night. If we meet at three, will that give you enough time to get there from the university with everything you need? -TT."
Taylor felt a brief wave of confusion—she obviously wasn't at her college at the moment—but it was quickly replaced with a growing sense of urgency. If Taylor wanted to make it to the meetup by three, she'd need to run, and fast. She almost barreled down the stairs into her basement and fumbled to throw on her costume before leaving through the back door. Tearing down backways and alleys wasn't convenient, and Taylor nearly tripped over sleeping transients and piles of garbage more than once, but it was better to inconvenience herself than let herself be seen in broad daylight in costume. Her heart pounded in her ears as she came to a stop behind the building she'd confronted Lung at last night. Taylor allowed herself a deep breath before she climbed the fire escape onto the rooftop.
It was just a few minutes past three as Taylor pulled herself over the parapet and heard an amused scoff. She turned her gaze to the sound and saw three people in casual wear—two were exchanging bills.
"I told you. Pay up." The blonde woman—average as far as Taylor could see, with a vulpine grin and mischievous gleam in her eyes—accepted a handful of bills from a brunet with messy curls and boyish features—an archetypical twink.
"A bet?" Taylor asked, keeping her distance.
"We bet on whether you'd show up in costume or not." Tattletale replied. Taylor thought it was a bit presumptuous for Tattletale to think Taylor would show up at all considering she hadn't responded to Tattletale's last message. Despite that, Taylor felt herself growing increasingly self-conscious about the fact, and the awkward silence that followed wasn't helping.
"Look, we want to thank you for the assistance last night." The third member of their party spoke—an imposing black man built like an oak tree and just as tall. His patient voice was oddly juxtaposed with his intimidating figure.
"Right." Tattletale nodded and nudged the brunet, who tossed Taylor a box. She was grateful to have caught it, though it was heavier than she'd anticipated for something so small. The cold, almost flimsy material told her it was a thin metal, and she turned it over in her hands; a bust of Alexandria was embossed into the front. A lunchbox. An Alexandria lunchbox.
"Is it a collector's item?" Taylor beamed.
"Open it." Tattletale rolled her eyes. Taylor did, and stacks of bills inside the lunchbox caused her stomach to drop. Suddenly, the situation had become more morally dubious than Taylor was comfortable with.
"I can't accept this." Taylor said before that she could think of keeping her feelings to herself. Tattletale scoffed.
"Of course you can."
"That's $2000, and there's more in it for you if you hear us out." The black man added. Taylor kept her eyes glued to the money in the lunchbox. $2000 was nothing to scoff at, and Taylor could think of more than one thing she could use the money for. The thing was, could she? This was blood money. The man took Taylor's silence as carte blanche to continue. "Way I see it, you've got two options. You can take that as a gift, and we can both go our merry ways, or you can accept that as your first paycheck. As a member of the Undersiders."
"About $10k a month." The brunet added. Tattletale elbowed him in the ribs.
Taylor could pay off her student loans and then some if she was only with the Undersiders for a year with that kind of pay, but these were criminals, and they'd expect Taylor to do the same jobs they did. She chewed on her lip. The Undersiders were an unknown; Taylor had no idea how they operated and only the faintest idea of how their powers worked—she wasn't even certain what Tattletale's power was. She'd have to fight heroes like Armsmaster. Taylor lingered on that thought for a moment.
Yeah! Taylor could join the Undersiders, dig up all the information she could, and make a good amount of money doing it; and, then, she could turn them over to the PRT—she still had Armsmaster's card somewhere after they'd met last night. Taylor straightened her back and spoke, trying her best to inject confidence into her words.
"I'll consider it. How can I contact you?"
"We'll contact you." Tattletale skipped to Taylor and took her hand in her's. "I'm Lisa, by the way. If we're going to be working together, you should know our names." She said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Is that really safe?" Taylor asked.
"Consider it a show of trust. I'm Brian." The black man spoke. He planted a hand on the twink's shoulder. "This is Alec."
Taylor nodded. If she was going to be working with these guys for as long as she estimated, they'd figure out her identity on their own anyway; better she tell them before then. She pulled her mask up and off, her hair cascading down her shoulders and back.
"Taylor."