"Bed 7 in long-term is awake."
Panacea perked up at that. She'd been introduced to the patient and had touched her to clear up any lingering injuries though the head wound had mostly healed and her self-imposed limit on brains had kept her from interfering further.
She thought she might be the only one who knew that the patient on bed 7 was not entirely human.
And wasn't THAT just all sorts of fascinating?
Fourth generation, which meant that whatever had mixed in with the human population was at minimum sixty years prior. Well before the advent of parahumans in the ancient history of 1949. Likely even further than that because her power had returned an extended natural lifespan. With what she could see, that might up the length of a generation to nearly half-a-century. So it could very easily (assuming the generation in question had kids somewhere around 25 years) be that the non-human had been around for the American Civil War.
She'd seen the family visiting her once, though she hadn't gotten close or talked to them. Just checking. Neither had looked all that different from what you'd expect. Otherwise any time at the hospital she was damn busy.
Touching the woman had given her all sorts of ideas on how to improve human biology but she needed to see more examples.
Maybe the daughter would reveal something even if she'd be fifth-generation.
* Annette Hebert *
Great-grandmother had, on the one occasion they'd met, gathered all her children's children's children together (all four of them), and told them there would be times like this. That when they'd been injured almost to death, when a normal human would definitely die, that more of their ancestry would come forth.
There had been only four of them because dragons did not have large families.
Great-grandmama had spoken of many things that day. One of which had been the caution to be not found out, because the world was full of idiots. Opportunistic idiots. Idiots with little or no scruples and convinced that their own needs took precedence over everything else.
The idea of someone rooting around in her brain to try and find some magic pearl they could claim? Yeah, there had been a few nightmares over that little story.
So Annette kept quiet as she tested out her new superior senses and tried to figure out what else might have changed.
Her vision seemed slightly muted, the colors more washed out. Though that might be just being in a not particularly well-funded hospital.
Smells were more sensitive, and she quickly learned to tune out the massive majority of what her nose was telling her.
Hearing seemed a little more dull as well, though the range seemed greater.
That she'd be stronger and tougher was nice, but there were downsides to being more "in tune" with her heritage. Less fertility being just one of the more long-term shortcomings.
She had to put all that to the side though as she was now surrounded by nurses all asking inane questions. Did she know who she was, did she know what the date was, did she know where she was, who was the current president, how many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop...
Everyone turned to give that last nurse a Look, who mumbled an apology and slunk off afterwards.
That she'd apparently been in a coma for nearly a year sounded about right from Great-grandmama's stories about near-death experiences where one drew from "the dragon wellspring" to survive.
* Taylor *
"All right, Taylor! I knew you could win!"
Taylor blinked and turned to look at Aretha. "I what?"
"We knew you could win," confirmed Danielle.
"I what?" repeated Taylor.
"Miss Benjamin! It isn't fair to compete against her! I mean look at her!"
"I what?" repeated Taylor.
"So she works out," said Miss Benjamin, the camp guide shrugging and spreading her hands. "If nothing else just think about how this will work out when you face the boys next week."
"Next Week!" shrieked one of the girls from another cabin.
"Next week is the volleyball competition, did you all forget?" asked Miss Benjamin.
The assembled girls all at once looked from Miss Benjamin to Taylor and considered.
"We're going to win?" asked Annabeth in a wondrous voice.
"She's just one person," noted Elizabeth, her own tone speculative. "Volleyball is a team sport."
"She's just one Olympic-level athlete," stated Deborah ("never 'Debbie'") as she finished drying off.
"We could win," said Annabeth, correcting her previous query to state a very real possibility.
Taylor just stared from one to the next and the almost predatory grins now appearing on various faces. She was just Taylor after all, and this situation was not one that she had expected.
* Deborah Lincoln Adamson Abercrombie *
Summer Camp was usually a time of hardship, well - relative hardship.
She considered her family quite wealthy, best schools, best meals, a butler who was speculated to have been in various armed conflicts sometime in the 70s or 80s. They weren't rich by some people's standards, they definitely were by other people's standards, and considered "new wealth" by more established families.
At first, wearing her bulky clothes, she'd dismissed Taylor Hebert as yet another gangly teenager who was withdrawn and sulky and angsty. Not worth associating with as she didn't seem to stick out particularly well or offer any benefit that could be discerned.
Then she'd gotten out her one-piece swimsuit and Deborah had found herself reassessing the girl once divested of the oversized and worn clothing. Oh, the swimsuit was obviously an old one that didn't fit as it was stretched over a frame much more developed than some previous year.
Lithe, strong, and showing signs that she was quite definitely a female mammal. Still acting a bit shy and hesitant, but there was a strength about her that came through.
Was she a parahuman? Not that most parahumans had a particularly developed physique, even Legend had a slight bit of belly fat that was beginning to show. Still, between height and fitness level - she was quite striking.
Deborah smiled. Her mother's business portfolio included a series of clothing stores which maintained prices in the lower but still somewhat pricey range.
Approaching Miss Hebert, or was it Herbert? Well, in any case, approaching the young lady in question about trying out to be a model seemed to be a potentially good move.
The best deals, after all, was where everyone came out ahead.
* Danny Hebert *
Hearing that his wife had awakened from her coma, and that could he please come to the hospital at his earliest convenience?
Yeah, he was there really damn fast and had to talk himself into not breaking every speed limit on the way.
Bending them? Yes, but never going more than five miles over the limit and not swerving from lane to lane. Traffic cops in Brockton Bay were big on "revenue enhancement" or whatever the catch-phrase nowadays was.
The panicked hurry was attempted once he was there, but bureaucracy and elevators move at the same speed whether you were desperate or not.
Not that he hadn't known she would eventually pull out. The blood of a dragon flowed through her veins even if she was fourth generation from the source.
Yes, that secret had come out while she was pregnant with Taylor, and that secret had actually explained a few things he'd put together about his lovely wife since they'd started dating.
She was NOT a vegetarian for example, her favorite dish was a meat-heavy lasagna and she was one of the photos over at Fugly Bob's for having taken and conquered the Challenger. The ability to out-guess the weather reports. Being able to eat staggering amounts of food without any weight gain. The way her sea-green eyes seemed to light from within when she got truly angry or worked up about something. The list went on a bit, but it was all just observed things adding up to a bit of strangeness. And what was a bit of strangeness when you were in love?
Finally the appropriate floor and...
"You are NOT taking me in, I am NOT a parahuman, and you have NO authority over me."
Ah, not only was she awake, but she was obviously building up steam towards a truly spectacular rage.
Maybe he could delay coming in, just a few minutes more. Yeah, that sounded like a good plan.
He could hear a voice, a male voice, sounding very gruff and commanding. Which was not at all the approach one should take with Annette Rose Hebert. Not by any stretch of the imagination. As to the male voice the sound was muffled enough that he couldn't make out the words, which just highlighted how much louder and clearer his wife's voice had been.
"What part of 'no' do you NOT understand?"
Again the male voice, sounding even more curt.
"Charged with what?"
Danny Hebert, though he loved his wife dearly and wanted to be reunited with her as soon as possible, eyed the elevator behind him. Maybe he should go to the gift shop. Offerings of chocolate would help. Beef jerky would help even more. If he could find both, all the better.
"If you insist on arresting me on some trumped up charges, I will sue you and the PRT so hard that your Tinker operating budget will have you building everything with Mega Bloks because you sure won't be able to afford Legos."
There was a loud noise, followed by Armsmaster stalking past him towards the elevator.
Well, that was his cue. Ready or not. Into the dragon's lair as it were.
There was his wife, as lovely as ever, and... had she put on a little muscle mass? She was wearing one of the usual hospital gowns so it was quite apparent.
Also a bit curvier in the right places, not that he noticed such things of course.
She had her glasses on and her eyes had that sea-green slight glow about them that indicated yes indeed she was a bit worked up at the moment.
Still, this was his wife and he counted the sight of her up and about as being one of the most beautiful things he'd seen in his life.
"Dearest," said his lovely wife, calming down just a touch. "Would you be a dear and get me one of those extra large bags of beef jerky from the gift shop. I have a strong urge to tear into something and don't want to give Assmaster something to actually charge me for."
Danny smiled. Yes, she was okay. "Right away, dear."
* PRT HQ ENE *
The MRI taken during her hospital stay had been gone over three times. No Corona Pollentia, therefore legally Annette Rose Hebert was not a parahuman.
There were anomalies in her blood test, which was enough to get results sent to the PRT as a possible parahuman, but as she had been in a coma they'd done all sorts of tests.
Her injuries had healed extremely fast and unusually thoroughly. That and her weight being outside what would normally be found for her build meant that she had been given a provisional Brute 1 rating.
Which was why Armsmaster had been sent and why Thomas Calvert was now looking over the files regarding the Hebert family. Not that he hadn't gone over them before, but a refresher was always good when you had the time.
Of course, as the supervillain Coil, he always had time.
Name: Daniel "Danny" Francisci Hebert. Profession: head of hiring at the Dockworkers Union. Known for having a storm-temper which was the sort of slow-build to nearly-certain violence thing that could easily be manipulated to giving someone without scruples a way to manipulate the man. Other than that, a few things he was good at that helped keep the union members employed when he could scrouge things up.
Name: Annette Rose Hebert. Profession: English professor at Brockton Bay University. If Danny had a storm-temper hers was glacially cold and calculating. She had a presence that her husband did not and when she raised her voice you could swear she grew two inches despite analysis saying that didn't happen. The car she was pulled out of was completely wrecked and she'd had multiple broken bones and a severe concussion. Her physical injuries were mostly set right by Panacea, who'd reported that there had been some sort of resistance to her healing powers.
Name: Taylor Anne Hebert. A child who seemed mostly average in everything except intelligence where she was rated above average for the most part.
So, a parahuman maybe in Annette. Possibly a second-gen in Taylor if he manufactured a Trigger Event for her. A normal father, though possibly a Trigger of his own could change that.
Nothing special though, a low-level Brute was hardly something to spend time worrying about. If the mother somehow became a problem, she was not bulletproof. It was unlikely though, as she seemed disinclined to join the heroes or villains in the local community.
* Taylor *
She'd gotten back to her cabin, settled down into one of the comfy chairs, and begun reading a particularly tattered copy of "Adventures of The Mighty Nein" series - the "Book 2: Queen of the City of Monsters" as it was titled. When she heard it again.
(Tak-tak-tak-tak-tak.)
Neither Danielle or Aretha, her roomies at the camp, noticed anything so far as she could tell.
[10 - Support Skills to Pay the Bills] was the constellation that came up and a medium-sized mote was:
[3 - Cooking] and she felt a bit disappointed at that.
[Cooking Skill - 100 points]
[There's knowing the basics of cooking, and then there's this. You can't make things so divinely flavorful that you can imbue them with magical effects, but you are way above the level of amateur cooks and into the level of professional chef. You instinctively know how to enhance flavors, mute other flavors, and make the most of the ingredients you have. You won't be challenging the top tier of professional chefs, but you know the tune and can hum a few bars.]
Actually, decided Taylor, that didn't sound so bad after all.
It wasn't like her father spent that much time in the kitchen since her mother had passed on.
Maybe she could make something here at camp?