Taylor was hardly paying attention throughout her classes, her mind occupied with trying and failing to imagine ways she could deal with the Merchants.

For Skidmark, she could probably blind and then stun him, but she didn't know how well that tactic would work against Mush, who could form a body around himself out of loose material. If her electricity was blocked, she would be in major trouble.

After she had sat down in the cafeteria for lunch, a blonde girl sat down across from her. Around November last year, the 'Trio' had scaled down their harassment a bit, probably because Sophia had some kind of track event in another state and was gone for a bit.

She hadn't really paid much mind to the reason beyond that, all she knew was that she could eat lunch without being physically disturbed for a bit, it seems that ends today though.

"Sorry about not being here on Friday. I, uh, ran into a door." The girl spoke in a friendly manner, layers of concealer were caking her left eye, and from the rims a pink bruise was barely visible.

Taylor didn't say anything, as she was mostly confused at first, but then she assumed this girl was just here to mock her for something.

"But what about you? Why weren't you here Thursday? I missed you, Tay." An almost imperceptible twitch of her lips and eyes gave away her irritation.

This seemed like mockery of some sort for her absence, but it also seemed to be about something else. "Did you need something?" Taylor snapped, she didn't have time for whatever this was, she had to keep thinking of possible scenarios until she could beat Mush.

"No, no, I was just worried about you. Why weren't you there?" The sudden sharp return to the question after the refusal was pretty stiff.

After looking a bit closer, past the make up and faux concern, Taylor finally recognized this girl. "Julia, I don't have time for your games. What do you want? What can I tell you so you'll leave and I can eat in peace? And does it matter what I say? No matter my answer, it'll be twisted in the worst ways until it's unrecognizable."

This girl, Julia Barbara, was a classmate and occasionally she participated with the bullying when her friends started it. She wasn't the direct cause of anything harmful or even an eager player, but she knew the game. She and her friends seemed to amuse themselves by verbally insulting Taylor until she fled from them.

"Tay, c'mon, we're friends aren't we? Just tell me why you were absent. Did someone say something to you or anything?" Her teeth were clenched, her knuckles white as her hands squeezing against the rim of the table, a facsimile of a smile plastered on her face in a feeble attempt to conceal her boiling emotions.

Taylor could feel her heart pumping, an itch clawed along her nerves as it reached her brain, she could tell this girl was volatile, that she was about to burst. The want to understand this situation had tapped against her brain, flashing lights of red, white and pink made her dizzy.

"Just leave me alo—" The buzzing in her brain was irritating, so she had attempted to tell this girl to leave her alone, and then a fist smashed into her face.

It wasn't too good of a punch, as the flat of Julia's fingers in a fist had met Taylor's cheek, it was more like a slow forceful slap than it was a proper strike with knuckles. Still, the sudden strike did have enough force to push the inner walls of her cheek against her teeth and send her falling out of her chair.

"It's your fault, you bitch! You just had to come to school on one day, on one day, and yet you weren't there! Screw you, I've always hated you and your gloomy attitude! I was never your friend and I'll never be your friend!" Julia seemed to be screaming more at the silent crowd watching them than at Taylor.

Emma, Sophia and Madison were among the crowd, but unlike usual they didn't appear to be satisfied. Irritated, pissed, and annoyed glares were burning a hole in Taylor and Julia.

The coach for a different year had eventually come up and escorted both of the girls to the office. Taylor, for her part, was still mostly confused about the girl shouting the obvious and seemingly looking for approval from the crowd.

Julia was given a month of suspension, and Taylor was given a warning to not start fights on school grounds. Her cheek had swelled a bit, but no blood was drawn and she was given an ice pack, then told to head back to class.

When she exited the office, since lunch was over and she hadn't eaten anything yet, she headed to a vending machine. Most of the snacks were gone, but there were some rather unorthodox snacks remaining. She bought a dried vegetable bar and then ate it on the way to class. She did have to be careful to not let any sharp bit graze against her inner cheek.

"Miss Hebert, you're late." The teacher stopped reading from a book and spoke to her as she entered the classroom.

"I was at the main office, they only released me after the bell had already rang." She answered as she switched which hand was holding an ice pack against her cheek, her fingers having gone cold.

"Do you have a slip?"

Taylor blinked. "No, but you can che—"

"Because you don't have a slip, I'll still be marking you as tardy today. Don't do this again, it takes up yours and everyone else's valuable learning time. And if you're going to be late in the future, get a slip."

"…Understood."

"Good, now take your seat. You remember what page we covered last Friday, right? We're picking up where we left off."

She didn't remember, even though it had only been three days, she couldn't remember what they had learned those three days ago, she wasn't surprised since she did have some stuff a bit more important to be thinking about. "Yes." Admitting she forgot would just paint her in an unfavorable light, so she lied. She could just peek in on her desk neighbor to know the page number.

Hungry eyes watched her as she took her seat, the social sharks, hyenas and vultures, had all smelled the fresh blood of newborn drama, and were waiting for everything to unfold with anticipation.

Taylor wouldn't snap, she wouldn't.

There had been enough drug-fuelled students who had bad trips and caused trouble that most people were used to it by now. It had also caused a wave of students, who had seen the lax punishments, to gain a semblance of confidence that they could go off on people and not be in too much trouble if they didn't physically harm someone.

To her classmates, she was just a girl teetering on the edge of breaking, of being entertainment to distract themselves from class with.

Even as rage boiled beneath her skin, she remained calm and sat down. She jumped up with a yelp immediately, a flat thumbtack had been left for her as a surprise.

Giggles and snickers, barely contained, echoed within the class, and the teacher told her to not cause a scene.

She wouldn't snap.

…

…

After school ended, everything had been a blur as she left and then arrived back home. She didn't care anymore, she didn't need a plan, the Merchants were just junkies with slightly more power than a human, she could handle them.

When her mind became clear again, a pile of clothes were strewn out before her. The boxes containing old clothes had been ripped opened and were scattered around her.

Blood dripped from her fingers from small pinpricks, a needle and a box of other sewing equipment were dumped next to her knees on the ground. Her mother had kept a sewing kit, but it had been stored away and she hadn't felt like disturbing the boxes of her mother's things to search for it.

As Taylor stood up to wash away the blood running down her fingers, she stopped as found a patchwork uniform in her lap.

Made from mixing, matching, and stacking, various materials, it could hardly be called clothes, it seemed like a fashion statement, that stated its designer was blind. It was mostly dark colors and patterns, with the occasional colorful patch.

Even though she had no memory of her thoughts as she made this, she knew it was meant to be her uniform. She cleaned up her mess after washing her hands, and then she got dressed. It was a padded full body suit of fabric, with boots, gloves, and sky goggles stitched on, it had long and deep pockets along her side.

In between some layers of fabrics, there were some thin metal plates at strategic parts of her body. Her bike frame had been melted with some other spare metal bits, taken out the melting field and smashed with a hammer while it was cooling and then ducked in a water filled pan before being inserted.

She didn't look very heroic, but she wasn't too bent out of shape about that as this was literally thrown together from normal material and once she got a better workshop then she would also upgrade her costume too.

And when she changed costumes, who was going to stop from changing her persona too? It wasn't like she needed to inform anyone of her change, and it meant any grudges she caused in her this persona wouldn't apply to her new one.

Of course, that meant she'd also have to ditch her first weapons when she changed, but she was planning on doing that anyway.

After stashing away her costume, she restlessly awaited her father to arrive home and then go to sleep. He stayed up until midnight watching some old documentaries about insect.

…

…

Brockton Bay seemed like an entirely different place when the sun was gone and lights lit up the streets. Taylor wasn't in the habit of going out after dark, so even the shadows of passing cats seemed scary to her.

As she crept down the sidewalk in a dark hoodie pulled up over her head, her costume in a backpack that she was clutching the straps to, her heart pounded in her ears. The rushing of blood pumping through the veins near her ears almost made her deaf.

That was an exaggeration, but it honestly felt like reality to her. She traveled through small pockets of light surrounded by a sea of darkness, the unknown existed all around her. Her only protection was the stun gun tucked in her waist. She was scared.

When she was a child, the city seemed as scary as anything else to her, but the reassurance of her parents had helped with that, but they hadn't prepared her for the truly terrifying. As she became a teenager, her personal problem seemed to drown out everything else.

Parahumans had seemed like a foreign concept to her life. Even though they were plastered everywhere, her focus had been on just making it through the day.

As a child, she was frightened by the existence of villains but the existence of heroes had overpowered that fear. To a kid, heroes were paragons of Justice, unfaltering in their heroism, and the embodiment of strength.

As she grew up, and learned of the history behind parahumans, her views naturally changed as well. In 1989, a hero named Vikare died of a brain embolism after being clubbed while trying to stop a riot over a basketball game. They weren't invincible, they had powers but were still humans, most of them anyway.

Their humanity was also showcased by their actions, or more aptly, their sins.

Heroes who went mad, took advantage of their abilities and positions, but without becoming villains, heroes could commit crimes like any other human. The case of a hero in a 'relationship' with someone underage had made its rounds a while ago.

The line between being a hero or a villain was simply having powers and then working: with or against, the law.

Cops weren't heroes and Criminals weren't villains, simply because they didn't have superpowers, because they were human.

Being a parahuman, people were forced to choose a side to fight on. Or so it was the case in the early years of chaos before order was implemented, now Rogues could exist, Parahumans who didn't fight against or to uphold the law.

Taylor didn't have to fight against injustice, she didn't have to become a hero, she could just find some company to take her in. Tinkers were always highly sought, even if their tech couldn't be recreated, some information might still be gleaned from it to help further research.

She didn't have to stalk the streets into the bad parts of town late at night. The surrounding buildings had begun to show signs of disarray, shattered windows and graffiti across every surface. She dipped into a dark alley, after ensuring no one was watching or inside, and then she hid behind a dumpster as she changed.

She didn't know exactly where Squealer's workshop was, but she didn't want to be spotted around here with her face exposed. So from here on out, she was going to be in costume. Her clothes were stuffed inside her bag as she hid it beneath a dry dumpster.

In her left pocket was her stun gun, and in her right pocket was her flashlight. She had yet to build replacement power sources, so instead she brought some spare batteries in a small pouch next to her deep pockets.

The snug feeling of protection encasing her skin had made her feel safe, even though it wasn't anything too special, there now existed a separation from the dangerous outside world and herself. With her face covered, it also erased the recognition of her as Taylor. And with a mask over her face, she became a new person.

The reason, her reason for not becoming a Rogue was simple, stupid even, she just didn't want to still be Taylor.

If she was still just herself after gaining power, she'd just be bringing her baggage along with her everywhere. Taylor the Tinker, her normal identity would be first. Taylor, the girl who lost her mom, the girl who lost her friend, the gloomy girl whom no one liked, oh and she's also a Tinker.

Without a name, without her past, she could be someone new.