[X] Go on the Offensive (The Teeth)
[X] Your biggest fan forgot her signed... napkin? Might be worth looking her up.
Current Energy: 4
Current Training: Lesser Magic Usage (9/10) - Complete!
Tuesday, February 8th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
"This is surprisingly difficult," Taylor grumbles as she attempts to use her new power to hold her breakfast aloft.
"Magic is fueled by emotion. It doesn't like to be used over long periods of time, any more than it's healthy for a normal person to angry permanently. Or sad." Ozma coaches, sipping at his mug - the same one he makes you prepare every morning - and glancing over Taylor as she struggles to eat and maintain a perfect projection of a plate at the same time.
"Burst effect shaker power. Got it." Taylor grunts distractedly.
"I don't think that's an accurate description of-" Ozma begins to interject dryly.
"Sup. Got any more of that?" Mouse Protector asks with a yawn, literally appearing in the seat opposite you wearing nothing but a long shirt and a generic mask.
"No." Taylor answers bluntly, too focused on concentrating for anything else.
"Damn. Why don't you guys have pop tarts or something? You know, easy food that requires no effort?" Mouse grouses, standing up to begin meandering about the kitchen tiredly.
"Because they're unhealthy and kind of expensive?" Taylor asked rhetorically.
"Bullshit. Healthy food is expensive. You own a castle. You can afford pop tarts." Mouse grouses as she begins to put together a sandwich.
"I've got better things to invest in than breakfast food," Taylor says with a roll of her eyes, finishing the last of her food and floating the Adhoc plate over to the sink to dump the crumbs away and allowing her to dissipate the construct and release a sigh of relief.
"But they've got these new ones that taste like cream cheese and-!" Mouse starts.
"If you make another cheese pun, I'm going to turn you into a literal mouse," Taylor says, squinting at the older heroine, who pauses, mouth frozen open.
"...Can you actually do that?" She asks hesitantly.
"Probably," Taylor confirms smugly. The smug expression slowly falls as Mouse Protector gets a hopeful look in her eyes, and begins to mob your Master with questions, advancing on Taylor until she has her pressed against the wall with her hands on Taylor's shoulders.
"Mouse Girl. Do it. Doooo iiiittttt." Mouse says ecstatically.
"What- no! I'm not doing that! Why would I do that?!" Taylor blurts out.
"Taylor! Do you have any idea how bitchin animal ears are? I could take my shtick to a whole new level!" Mouse continues excitedly.
"No! And- and you'd lose your powers! I'm not doing it!" Taylor fires back, awkwardly trying to shimmy out of Mouse's grip without hurting her.
"...Oh. Well that sucks." Mouse says after a second, dejectedly releasing your Master from her grip and sulking slightly.
Silence falls over the kitchen for a moment before Taylor speaks up.
"I guess you could say that you're... cheesed?" She mumbles.
Mouse Protector's face jerks up in shock, and she begins to physically vibrate.
"Nevermind!" Taylor yelps taking a step back.
"How gouda of you to care!" Mouse yells, diving forward to tackle Taylor into a hug.
"Stop! Seriously I gotta go to school!" Taylor complains, blushing. It isn't as though she couldn't just break out of the grapple at need, but well, despite her words, she's obviously happy for the interaction.
"Never! I am Un-Feta'd!" Mouse Protector continues, cackling as she begins to tickle Taylor furiously.
"Whyyyyyyyy!" Taylor laughs as she faux struggles beneath the older woman.
"I've been here a couple of days now and I've literally never seen you do anything fun! Relax a little will ya?" Mouse Protector continues to chuckle before finally getting up with a sigh.
"Ah, geez. Gotta get back out there. Have fun at school or whatever~" Mouse chortles, scratching one arm and wandering back up the stairs to grab her costume.
Taylor huffs at her before getting off the floor herself, stretching.
"Miss Hebert. I - have a request." Ozma says after a moment of consideration.
"Hm?" Taylor hums at him in response as she shifts to doodling in her workbook for new talisman.
"Emmy tells me that my time here is quickly coming to an end." He begins tentatively. Taylor doesn't respond, but her jaw sets and she visibly begins to struggle against herself in order to avoid snapping her pen in twain. You know she never likes hearing this. You know that she would give up all her powers if you never had to change, to die, to become someone new.
Unfortunately, when you were configuring yourself 'feelings' weren't really a big part of your reasoning. Just 'Power'.
"And?" Taylor grinds out, not looking up.
"I... believe it is for the best that I remain behind. With you." He says carefully. Neutrally. Ofcourse, this immediately causes Taylor to perk up.
"You can stay?!" She blurts out.
"Ah. Yes. Should I be transferred to you before we have run our course I would remain behind as Emmy changes. Or so I'm told." Ozma explains, suppressing a wince as Taylor internalizes that, no, you yourself will not continue to be Oscar. Not for long anyway.
"...I see," Taylor replies flatly, slowly sitting back down to stare at her half-finished drawing.
"[If it bothers you, I should explain that I am capable of partitioning myself from you. I would only be present at need.]" Ozma offers.
"I - sure. Fine." Taylor snips at you, biting her lip in irritation.
"[...Taylor.]" Ozma says in a comforting tone, shifting forward to sit next to your Master.
"You can rent headspace with me okay? It's fine, just-" Taylor says bitterly.
"Taylor. Emmy is never truly gone. Over the last little while, he has displayed behaviour and reactions that are clearly not Oscars. Do not think of it as the death of the Ego, but merely the emergence of a larva from its pupa. A transference." Ozma says, shifting slightly to hug the girl, and relinquishing control of your body so that you may comfort her.
"I still hate it." Taylor continues, leaning into you. It really didn't take long for her to be able to tell when Ozma was in control of you. It's as obvious to her as a change of clothes would be. You find that comforting somehow.
"I know." You say gently, stroking your Master's hair.
Tuesday, February 8th, 2011
Alcott Household, Brockton Bay
You're Master, in her infinite wisdom, has decided to personally apologize to each of the people affected by the fight against the Butcher. The fact that this puts her in the immediate vicinity of the Alcott household - the Mayor's sister, and where her 'biggest fan' lives - is purely a coincidence.
Truly.
'You think she's got powers or was she just passing a message along for someone else?' Taylor asks you curiously as she knocks on the door.
'Could be neither. It's not like we can confirm those numbers.' You point out easily, though, at this point, you highly doubt it. That would be too easy, and if there's anything you've learned in this lifetime, it's that things are never easy where your Master is concerned.
"Hello?" A confused looking woman asks as she opens the door. For someone living in the 'nice' part of town, she is surprisingly mundane looking. No makeup, kind of a narrow face, short sandy brown hair, loose-fitting jeans and a tasteful but not obscenely expensive looking blouse make up her overall appearance.
"Hi. I'm Nexus. There was recently a fight nearby that damaged some of the streets and I wanted to make sure everyone here could contact me to pay for things. Also, I'm pretty sure your daughter asked me for an autograph last week and then ran away before I could hand it back to her?" Taylor explains easily. It's a far cry from the stuttering and insecure girl you first met when she triggered. You doubt she even notices the difference.
The woman considers Taylor for a second - not in costume at all save for her sunhat - and then smiles politely at her.
"Dinah has been feeling ill the last few days. I can pass along a message for you if you'd like? I'm sure she'd love to talk to you again." The woman says. Taylor immediately nods to this but doesn't leave right away.
"I could try healing her? I help Panacea at the hospital sometimes." She offers politely. The woman - you never caught her name - looks pensive for a moment, then speaks.
"Can you give me a minute? I'd like to speak to my husband." She apologizes.
"Sure, I've got time," Taylor answers with a shrug, then returns to speaking to you as the door closes behind her.
'Do you want me to-' You offer quickly.
'What did I say about randomly invading peoples homes?' She cuts you off.
'...Don't?' You reply sheepishly.
'If you know then why do you keep offering to do it?' She asks you in amusement.
'Because it's fun?' You reply innocently.
'Uhuh.' Taylor responds with amusement. Suddenly the door in front of her opens back up.
"Sorry about that. I just wanted to talk to the physician seeing to her. He came highly recommended." The woman says, her voice slightly strained.
"Why not just go to the hospital? Panacea is there most of the time." Taylor asks curiously as she follows the woman further into her home.
"Panacea 'doesn't do brains', and apparently she's had something of a migraine." Dinah's mother states carefully, as though trying to pick her way through what she wants to say. Your Master raises an eyebrow at this but otherwise lets it sit. You've only just met the woman so it would be somewhat pretentious to assume you should be allowed to involve yourselves in her business. Even just being allowed to heal Dinah is something you couldn't force without a significant breach of morals.
"Hm. Well, I don't have that problem, so we might be able to make this work." Taylor reassures her. Eventually, you are led into a room decorated in the usual assortment of things a preteen girl might be interested in. Which is to say, it is very pink and full of stuffed animals. It's almost painfully stereotypical, compared to your Master's room which, until Yukari had interfered, was basically a monk's study.
Sitting on her bed on the far side of the room is the girl from the other day. Her eyes are shadowed, and she appears not to have slept very well recently but is being attentively attended to by a shorter man in a navy blue turtleneck sweater, with coke bottle glasses.
"Now, keep a damp cloth over your eyes tonight alright? No staring at your cellphone or watching television, it will only make the pain last longer." He explains, placing a bottle of pills and a glass of water next to the girl's bed, on a small table with a lamp on it.
"Nexus, this is Mr.Pitter. He's been looking after Dinah for us while we've been busy." Dinah's mother explains, gesturing to the man, who stiffens slightly at her voice before standing and turning to peer at you through beady eyes.
"Hello. Is there anything I can help you with? If you're here to speak to Dinah I can't recommend-" He begins sternly but Taylor waves him off with a chuckle.
"I'm a healer. I just want to help." She says easily.
"Ah. I see. If you'll excuse me then. I have another appointment to keep." The man says perfunctorily, nodding the elder Alcott and walking past her. Taylor patiently waits for him to leave before turning to Dinah, who is smiling grimly through the obvious pain she's in.
"Now. Do I have permission to heal you?" Taylor asks without preamble.
"Um. Yes?" Dinah says hesitantly.
"Do you want anything to eat honey?" Her mother quickly adds, to which the girl begins to shake her head no, only to wince at the movement.
"Mmk. One second," Taylor says, her palms aglow as she steps forward and stretches a hand out to tap the younger girl on the head. At first, nothing happens as the golden glow passes from Taylor to the girl, sliding downward across her skin like a waterfall. Then the effect fades, and Dinah sits up mouth agape.
"You can heal Thinker headaches!" She screeches at you, causing your Master to jerk backwards and turn to look at Mrs.Alcott as though stung.
"Uh?" Taylor says in confusion.
"Dinah. Dear. We've talked about this, you don't have powers." Her mother says with a put upon sigh.
"Seventy-Three percent chance you believe me by the end of the week!" Dinah counters immediately, sitting up in a huff. Then she turns back to Taylor and frowns.
"Um. The Butcher dying is still around eighty percent." She continues, somewhat apologetically.
"If you're worried, you can always join the PRT. Or visit my castle." Taylor offers, glancing at Mrs.Alcott in order to gauge her mood. Not very well, it seems because she is frowning in disapproval.
"Can't," Dinah says tiredly.
"Why not?" Taylor rebuts.
"Because she's not a Parahuman," Mrs.Alcott interjects. Dinah squints at her mother as though trying to banish her with her will alone, then sighs and turns back to Taylor.
"It gets bad faster if I stop seeing Mr.Pitter." She admits with an annoyed shrug. Taylor stares at her for a few seconds, obviously deep in thought, before reaching into a pocket and withdrawing one of the dozens of tags she's taken to carrying around casually. Delicately, she pages through them until about the middle of the stack, as though counting bills, and withdraws a single talisman that she hands to Dinah, who takes it curiously.
"If anything happens, you can rip that, and you and anyone near you will be taken to my Castle, where it's safe - okay?" Taylor says with a smile. Dinah eyes the talisman with new eyes at that then looks back up at your Master.
"Um. Did you have any more questions? I can do... one or two more?" She offers hesitantly.
"Will it hurt?" Taylor responds.
"A bit."
"Then that's okay. You rest, alright?" Taylor says pleasantly. leans away from Dinah's bed to stretch, and turns around before pausing.
"You also forgot about this. I don't know if you still want it but-" She says hesitantly, withdrawing the signed napkin from last week. There is an almost wistful expression on her face, having no doubt realized that Dinah is not, in fact, her greatest fan, and is - much more likely - just a very clever precog.
"Yes!" Dinah blurts, scrambling out of her bed to snatch the napkin out of your Master's hands. Taylor blinks once at the sudden movement and noise, then smiles joyously back at the younger girl.
"Take care, Dinah." She says with a wave, before quickly leaving the house.
Tuesday, February 8th, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
"Taylor?" Miss Militia calls out as your Master strides through the halls of the Heap, getting ready to assemble her team for a sortie against the Teeth. It's gotten somewhat late, but the cities nightlife hasn't yet risen yet. It is the perfect slice of time, between both night and day, when nearly no one is fully active.
And your Master plans on capitalizing on that fact during her attack.
"Yes?" She asks, halting suddenly as a wave of guilt passes over her.
"Have you seen Danny? He's usually in his office around now." The older woman asks politely.
"I think he's doing something with Jess. I don't think you've met her. New Wave's Fleur?" Your Master explains quickly, causing Miss Militia's smile to dim slightly. Then Taylor pauses.
"...Why do you know when my Dad is in his office?" She adds slowly. Miss Militia shrugs awkwardly.
"I've been having tea with him around this time every day. We don't really patrol from the castle, so I have a lot of spare time." She says.
"Don't you have like, a house?" Taylor pushes.
"I'm married to my work," Militia responds again. The two stare at each other blankly for a bit, neither one showing any emotion.
'Emmy? Does Miss Militia count as a milf?' Taylor asks you mentally during this showdown.
'I- don't... think so?' You respond in confusion. You aren't even entirely familiar with the term in the first place, but you assume it has something to do with being a mother which Miss Militia obviously isn't so...
'Oh thank god.' Taylor breathes a sigh of relief, then smiles brightly at the older woman.
"We're going to assault the Teeth now that the Butcher is in captivity. Want to come?" She offers easily, causing Miss Militia's eyebrows to shoot up.
"So soon? Will you be coordinating with the PRT?" She asks.
"Isn't that why you're here?" Taylor challenges smugly.
"...Point." Militia agrees, frowning.
"Alright. Just let me make sure Vista gets home safe." She finally says, then spins about to retreat back up the hallway.
"Easily over forty normal members. I think I've got Vex and Animos. It's hard to tell the rest apart, they all dress the same." You report back, appearing in the alley your Master and the rest of the Oathbound plus Miss Militia are standing in. Even Parian has chosen to come, albeit in a rearguard position with Oliver, who is tugging nervously at his unadorned black and white costume. Parian is good, but she can't put together an entire look in a day. The best she could manage was to sew ceramic plates into the boy's costume and to get him a bikers helmet to protect his head.
The Teeth are holed up in a series of abandoned office buildings a few blocks from the abandoned ferry station. Directly in your proverbial backyard. Most of the members are spread out over the bottom three floors of the building, with the top two mostly abandoned save for a few members who were sleeping or doing... other things. There is a flurry of activity surrounding the building, as the group begins to armour and equip itself, to what end you aren't sure.
"We shouldn't move in until we can identify all the capes, but once we do, Animos needs to go down first." Aspirant puts forth, earning nods from the rest of the group.
"Nexus, you have a Mover power, right? If we set up a command post for me to work from that oversee's most of the building I should be able to make sure no one escapes, and you can use it to get the heavy hitters inside." Miss Militia puts forth. Her ghostly soldiers can enter the building without her, but they become less responsive the less aware she herself is of the situation. This makes them best for forming a perimeter, rather than as a solid assault force.
"I can open a gap pretty fast, but they're still really noticeable. He might spot us if we go in that way." Taylor notes with a frown, now fully decked out in her costume, sword drawn and held loosely over one shoulder tapping it in agitation.
"Can't the kid be invisible? Just send him in to conk the bastard on the head. He hits hard enough for it." Trainwreck says with a shrug. Taylor becomes highly uncomfortable at this, and avoids answering him immediately, but does eventually turn towards you. The reason why is obvious. If you fight, you're probably going to end up burning energy. And every bit of power you use brings you closer to your inevitable end.
Still, it's clear that she's leaving the choice up to you.
What's the plan? (Include maximum allowable Energy expenditure.)
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Spoiler: Choices:
Energy: 4
Current Training: None
Tuesday, February 8th, 2011
The Docks, Brockton Bay
"I'll baby sit the Trump." You agree immediately. You don't want to let your Master down, or risk your team suffering the effects of Animos' scream, so you resolve yourself to subdue the man without using any excess power. You can do it, you think. Taylor, not being privy to your inner thoughts, tightens her frown and turns away from you.
"Fine. Aspirant, if I jump you into an abandoned floor can you start sweeping the rooms to clean up all the guys up there?" Taylor asks, to which the pearlescent white cape nods, his carapace darkening into a harder to see but still reflective black.
"I can take Oliver with me. The roof is a low-risk area, and I can protect him if he stays close." Aspirant adds, glancing to Oliver who is looking around nervously.
"Is that wise? He's not exactly... bulletproof." Parian questions, not so subtly referencing the fact that Oliver is the only member of your team sans Miss Militia who lacks aura.
"I can protect him." Aspirant says mulishly. You eye him curiously, but his lack of facial features in his combat form makes it somewhat hard to determine what emotions he might be feeling.
"...Fine. I'll come with you." Parian grunts.
"Hey, I thought you were all 'I don't fight cus capitalism' or whatever." Trainwreck says. His tone is brusque and joking, but there is a certain level of genuine concern in his voice. Parian glances at him for a second, before turning back to Oliver.
"I can handle myself at least. I'll be sure to stay out of your way. I'll just be there for if something goes wrong." She says, almost daring anyone else to countermand her. You squint at her in consideration. You know Parian is a caring girl. You know that, left to her own devices, she'd rather not fight or even really be a cape at all. But you also know other things. You know that she worries about her friends. You know that she doesn't consider Oliver ready yet. And most of all;
You know that her power wants to give her reasons to fight.
The group remains silent for a second as something passes between them, then Taylor nods and turns towards Miss Militia.
"Militia, you can make sure no one escapes and siege the ground floor right?" Taylor asks.
"Yes. I've already called the Protectorate, they have officers standing by to bring everyone in." She acknowledges with cool professionalism.
"Wreck, once the fighting starts can you handle holding their attention down here until Aspirant can pincer them? We want to try and bait their capes into the open so we can handle them." Taylor asks, to which the large tinker just shrugs and nods.
The plan settled, you vanish from sight, moving out.
The first thing you do is locate an empty room for your Master to deposit Aspirant, Parian and Oliver in. With that task complete, you fall through the floor until you arrive near Animos, who is pacing back and forth in a small room and snarling randomly at the air around him. To the side a few other members of the teeth are putting together neat little powdered lines on what was once an office table, all of them loaded down with more firearms than you expect they could reasonably use.
'I'm ready.' You send to your Master, which is at about the point that you realize, you don't know what her part of the plan is going to be.
'Aspirant and his team have started. Good luck.' Taylor sends to you, and you catch a burst of concern and warmth before you turn your attention towards your assigned task.
Carefully, quietly, you step towards Animos, waiting until he is just out of the line of sight from the other people in the room. Once he is, you lift Long Memory, extending it outward, and pointing it squarely at the man's temple. Then, just as he is about to turn back in his pacing, you appear, thrusting forward with as much force as your Aura clad form can muster. There is a notable cracking sound, and he goes down in a heap. Before you can determine if maybe you hit him too hard, gunfire begins to rip past you, two shots of a normal pistol and a burst of much faster fire from what is obviously a much larger weapon, that slams into your shoulder.
[Vanish.] Ozma orders you, shorting out your immediate emulated response of trying to charge your attackers and causing you to pause long enough for a shot to hit you, before using your ability to vanish from sight, becoming immediately intangible.
"Thanks." You mouth, although no noise travels from you as you are no longer tangible.
[Think nothing of it. I'm an educator at heart.] Ozma replies easily.
Smiling through the pain you're in - you'd estimate your Aura to be in the upper seventy percent right now - you make use of your intangibility to dart to the side of your attackers, reappearing in time to crack your weapon across one of their temples, then disappearing again, leaping and rolling to the opposite side of the group as your victims two fellows turn to your previous location. This, it seems, is more than enough of an advantage to allow you to take the last two of them out.
'I've got Animos.' You state, turning to face the unconscious cape, and then cursing silently as a hail of gunfire from outside the room begins to rain on you through the door. You are only somewhat grazed by the first few shots before you realize what is happening, at which point Ozma reminds you to become intangible again.
[Why don't you make use of this more often? It seems to be the only ability you maintain between forms.] Ozma asks curiously.
"Oscar can't do it so why would I think of it?" You ask, sweeping your gaze through the room and allowing your Master to use your vision in order to create Gaps beneath your victims, depositing someone where they are presumably safe from friendly fire. Beneath you, you can feel the telltale rumble of Trainwreck in motion as part of the building explodes inward to allow him inside.
[Because you aren't Oscar.] Ozma notes blandly. You suppress the urge to retort to that. You are Oscar right now. That's your entire point.
'Check on the guys upstairs. They should have made it to you by now.' Taylor orders, and you can tell via your knowledge of her presence that she has joined Trainwreck downstairs in wreaking havoc on the gangsters.
'What about-' You begin to ask but are succinctly cut off.
'I'm fine.' She orders again.
Pursing your lips, you turn to run up the stairs, bouncing upward and through a wall in time to step into a massive wall of gunfire that you instinctively duck away from despite your intangibility. Glancing around once you get out of the immediate line of fire, you finally fully take in the situation. For one, Parian is standing in one corner of the room, her expansive dress in tatters as the threads and fabric from it are torn away to supplement a cloth shield she is holding aloft in front of her. Behind her, Oliver is seated on the floor, clutching fruitlessly at his stomach. As you watch, bullets ping off of Parian's patchwork shield, which glows a slight green. You can't immediately spot the shooter, as many of the bullets are coming through the weak dilapidated walls of the building, but you you quickly dash towards her regardless, just in time for the gun fire to begin to turn spastic, as though the any bullets entering this particular room are merely a side effect of aiming at whatever your attacker is actually trying to aim at.
"You okay Oli?" You ask quickly, appearing crouching over the boy. Then you freeze, as two barely visible strands of thread stop an inch from both of your eyes.
"Sorry. Reflex." Parian says, her voice hoarse as she reaches into her dress and withdraws a paper tag that she quickly rips open above Oliver. A burst of golden light emanates from it, washing over all present.
"I'm good." Oliver grates out, not sounding nearly as confident as his words would imply. Carefully and slowly, he pokes at his sternum, before standing up, making sure to stay crouched so that his head isn't peaking over the top of Parian's shield.
"What happened?" You ask, glancing between the two.
"Spree was up here having fun with... well Spree was up here." Oliver says with a shudder.
"We mistook him for a normal thug, and then when Aspirant made to strike him he evaded and exploded into an army. Oliver got hit in the crossfire, Aspirant is still dealing with the clones." Parian reports.
'Did you catch all of that?' You ask your Master, having felt her examining the situation through your eyes the entire time.
'Yeah. I'm going to pull them out. Keep going.' She says, her voice slightly strained from the effort on concentrating on fighting, talking, and seeing through your eyes at the same time.
"Nexus is going to pull you back to Miss Militia. Is that okay?" You tell the pair. Oliver nods quickly, but Parian glances towards her shield and then clenches her fists before nodding once. As if watching in reverse, the thread making up the shield begins to disentangle itself, reweaving into the longer dress Parian typically wears and quickly covering up her stocking clad legs. You barely take the time to acknowledge the Gap that appears beneath them as you turn rushing onward, and becoming intangible again.
What you find on the other end of your run is... not really... what you were expecting.
What you were expecting was to find Aspirant - who is largely bullet proof - dodging between people as he disables the clones and makes his way towards their creator. What you got, was somewhat more horrifying.
For one, most of these clones aren't moving. From what Trainwreck told you while this was being planned, that's fairly common for Spree's clones. They're basically braindead after a handful of seconds, and dissolve after fifteen minutes or so.
For another, something... you're pretty sure it was Aspirant, is tearing through the room and most of the clones like a pinball made of teeth and claws. It's form is indistinct. It's moves whipcrack fast. And most importantly, it is liberally chewing through the mostly unmoving clones - quite literally - like a chainsaw through butter. To describe the sight as 'gory' would be an understatement.
"Did you catch him?" You ask, appearing in the room. Which... might have been a mistake, in retrospect. It isn't like you didn't have enough of a clue that Aspirant was behaving abnormally. Of course, this all occurs to you after Aspirant's murder ball form pivots towards you, two overlong tendrils of flesh and teeth whipping out to pulp the nearest Spree clones to it. It doesn't even have eyes really. Just... teeth. Everywhere.
Then, it leaps at you.
Thankfully, you have learned the dubious lesson of becoming intangible when things are attacking you, which helps greatly and allows you to handily evade Aspirant.
"Hey-"
"-I need-"
"-you to calm down-"
"-Or I'll have to call Taylor."
You say between attacks and bouts of temporary visibility.
At your Master's name, the thing stops, freezing in place before twitching slightly, and then slowly - ever so slowly - retracting into itself, until Aspirant is standing before you, mostly human, save for the fragments of his mask fused to the upper half of his face.
Then he vomits.
"You okay?" You asks, rushing forward towards the man. Under normal circumstances, you think most people might be hesitant to do that. Either because of the horror of what you just saw - and make no mistake, it was nightmare inducing - or because of the fear of imminent death. You, however, are as close to a species from the works of H.P Lovecraft as is biologically feasible, and can't really die in the conventional sense, and so your primary concern becomes the well being of your Master's teammates.
"I- yeah. Just. Urg." Aspirant grunts, vomiting again as you approach. The rest of the building has gone mostly quiet, and so you assume the raid has finished for the most part.
"So... what was that... exactly?" You ask hesitantly, rubbing Aspirant's back.
"Oliver got shot. I don't, I felt stupid. I shouldn't have brought him. But he was so good in the lessons I thought- but he got shot. And I just - the brakes just came off. My fault, my problem, my solution." Aspirant explains, temporarily forgoing his 'wise old master' voice for the panicky tones of a teenager who has just realized he might be a monster. You purse your lips at that, but don't otherwise say anything. Your reasonably certain this is another example of what your kind do. Aspirant... hasn't really been using his powers. He has, but not in the way your kind intended. You can see how his shard might have nudged him towards this. With all that data it must have been gathering from his 'enlightenment' it must have been like a kid on christmas getting him into an actual combat situation.
'How is everything downstairs? I'm pretty sure Spree got away, unless Miss Militia caught him.' You ask your Master, delaying for time.
'Got Vex and most of the normal thugs. Haven't seen Hemorrhagia - dumb name - or Spree. I think they're supposed to have another guy - Reaver? But I haven't seen him.' Taylor tells you distractedly.
"Fights over, if you want me to have Taylor take us back." You offer Aspirant, who is still dry heaving slightly. He shakes his head no, breathing heavily and deeply.
"Can you... not tell the others about this?" He asks you, desperately.
You consider the question.
[ ] If he see's regular combat your pretty sure this won't happen again.
[ ] You'd like to but... honestly it's probably a bad idea to do so. He needs help.
Aspirant takes your response in for a second, then smiles at you, a small brittle thing.
And then your Master whisks you away.
"Well, we didn't get all the capes, but with most of the mundane gang members tied up the Teeth are effectively done." Miss Militia says warmly as you watch the last of the PRT vans drive away. You know it's technically true, but for some reason, you can't help but feel a deep sense of wrongness at the statement. Like you just know the Teeth will be back somehow, whether you like it or not.
"Just gotta keep those loony fucks in prison for once." Trainwreck jokes, earning withering glare from Miss Militia, who might still remember his less than chivalrous remarks when first meeting her.
"I'm sure it will work out." Aspirant says, although his tone is less agreeing and more... grim. He has refrained from making eye contact with Trainwreck or anyone else since the end of the fight, and has been mostly staring blankly at the building the fight took place in. Occasionally, he glances upward, to the part of the building he was fighting Spree in, and then away, as if ashamed.
"I think Oliver would be best served with a more bulletproof suit of armor." He says after a second, sidling towards your Master and whispering. Her eyebrows raise slightly at this, but eventually she shrugs.
"I'll try and get something ready soon." She agrees, before turning to check on everyone else.
"Anyone hurt?" She asks, getting a chorus of no's and an uncomfortable look from Oliver as he fingers the holes in his costume where he was shot.
"Alright. Let's go home." She declares confidently, sparing a glance at the Aspirant, who has been behaving oddly since the fight ended.
Then she opens a gate to the Heap, and you are forced to shelve your thoughts for another day.
School tomorrow. Choose TWO (2). Taylor will automatically spend any extra time continuing her current training, if any.
[ ] Begin Training (Choose a Skill or Power)
[ ] Go on the Offensive (Accord)
[ ] Go on the Offensive (Travellers)
[ ] You should go on patrol to see if any other unaffiliated Capes have snuck into the city during the chaos.
[ ] Have Taylor take some time out to fortify the Heap with Onmyoudo.
[ ] Oliver could probably use some magical assistance with his costume and loadout. Does he even have a name yet?
[ ] Where the hell did Jess take your Dad?
[ ] Uber and Leet got away. They're a minor annoyance at best, but still. You should at least track them down.
[ ] Who was it Mouse was looking for? Ravager?
[ ] Some of the Teeth got away. Spree, Hemorrhagia, Reaver. Aspirant seems pretty worked up about it.
[ ] Write-In
Spoiler: Author's Note
Last edited: Sep 23, 2020
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Bowler Hat Guy
Sep 22, 2020
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Threadmarks Succession 9.5
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Bowler Hat Guy
Bowler Hat Guy
A Hat & Its Man
Sep 26, 2020
#20,192
Spoiler: Choices:
Current Energy: 3
Current Training: Ozma Sub-Emulation (5/10) This Omake bonus in thanks to Cosmic
Wednesday, February 9th, 2011
???, ???
Your Master awakens, and for the first time in a long time, it is not in her bed. Nor are you physically, present. In response to this, she is... predictably, not happy.
"Emmy?!" She blurts out, snapping awake in her usual characteristic way to find that she is somehow seated in a large high backed chair, arms resting on a wide technologically advanced looking desk. Those are the only things in the wide, circular room. Behind the desk, perfectly placed so that the occupant of the chair can swivel around to look out of it, is a large window, that looks out onto the grounds of what of an old stone castle. Directly opposite the window is the door of an elevator. The room itself is largely barren of effects or even really signs of use. It is entirely too large for what is in it, and yet somehow the dim orange lighting and sombre atmosphere seem well suited to the place.
Taylor, being, well, Taylor, barely takes a second to appreciate or parse any of this. Instead, she withdraws her sword and jumps on the desk like a neanderthal seeking the high ground.
"Really? You lived in a Wizard's tower? You built a Wizard's tower into your school?" You ask incredulously from off to one side of the room, easily visible despite your Master's inability to see you.
"I am allowed some indulgences. When I was king this was my castle. It's only fitting that I should keep my tower after having declared it a school." Ozma answers smugly from where he is standing next to you, which is... weird. Seeing him physically, that is. Despite your tendency to dismiss, ignore, or only partially listen to the man, seeing him in person provides a certain mystique to him. A palpable aura of... damn it. A palpable aura of wizardly-ness surrounds the tall white-haired gentleman standing next to you.
"Now, if you would do something about that? She looks as though she is about to begin tearing the walls away in search of you." He adds after a moment, pointing at Taylor without removing his hands from Long Memory, crossed as they are over the head of the cane resting on the ground in front of him.
"Right, right." You say begrudgingly. Pausing for a second, you focus hard. Even for a Shard of your calibre, what you are currently doing is reaching right up against the border of what you can reasonably manage. This isn't just faking one person. It's not even faking a few. You are, for all intents and purposes, expending massive amounts of personal power in order to convincingly fake this castle, the city surrounding it, and the majority of its inhabitants. From a certain point of view, that level of detail is entirely unnecessary. In an ideal scenario, Taylor would take the memory you have cribbed from Ozma, and then allow it to play it's course, like a highly interactive movie. The intent isn't to make a sandbox. It's to help massage your Master's poor brain into a shape capable of handling a second instance of an entire human being without disrupting any of her own personality or memories. Unfortunately, your professional pride has been set off here, such as it were. You're Multiversal Emulator. You have kids who can convincingly do shit like this. What if Taylor decides to begin a reign of terror in the city? It just wouldn't do for all the nameless nobodies running about the place to behave anything less than one hundred percent accurately.
You don't do things 'partially'.
All that being said, you very carefully, rearrange the room so that a letter floats delicately into view in front of Taylor, which is good, because she was just about to rip open the elevator doors and jump down the shaft.
With a speed and alacrity that honestly terrifies you sometimes, Taylor snatches the letter out of the air, pulling it open and reading it aloud.
"Training simulation. Play along." She reads aloud before frowning and speaking to the room.
"Some warning would have been nice!" She calls out. Ozma doesn't say anything. He doesn't even make any noise. But you swear to all that is good that you can hear his smug look at you.
"Shut up." You snipe at him, to which he doesn't reply. So saying, you begin the scenario, and suddenly, the elevator lights up. Taylor - obviously not knowing what kind of training this is, eyes the indicator on the door warily, sword held carefully at the ready as it stops on the floor she is on, then opens, disgorging a statuesque blond woman in - and you can't stress this enough - a naughty librarian outfit.
""Really?"" You say at the same time as your Master, which just goes to show that she and you were made for each other.
"When your world plays host to a world war for the purposes of earning freedom of expression, I might choose to listen to your opinion on such topics." Ozma answers flatly.
"Excuse me?" The blond woman says, slightly affronted, eyes darting to your Master's sword in obvious confusion.
"I- nothing. Hello." Taylor answers, exhaling from her nose and slowly relaxing, her sword vanishing from sight.
"Good... morning, Headmaster. The new students are gathering in the auditorium. We'll need to hurry if we want to make initiation on time." The Woman says, quickly regaining her bearing and gesturing for your Master to follow her into the elevator, which she does so hesitantly. You and Ozma quickly move to follow.
"Initiation?" Taylor asks quizzically. You frown at this, realizing that your Master lacks sufficient background and that spiking that information into her brown would run counter to the point of the exercise. So instead, you tweak your emulation of the woman slightly.
"Yes, Headmaster. The test all new students take before being put into teams. Do you remember my name is Glynda Goodwitch, or have you forgotten that too?" Goodwitch says sarcastically. Ozma raises an eyebrow at you but you merely shrug, this being the best you can reasonably manage on your current timeframe.
"Hm." She hums, obviously taking that information in, then suddenly blanching.
"So... I'm the Headmaster right?" She asks hesitantly.
"With all the paperwork that entails, yes." Goodwitch replies bluntly.
"And we're going to the Auditorium to see all the new students?" Taylor continues heedless of Goodwitchs growing annoyance.
"Yes." She repeats through grit teeth.
"...And I suppose I have to give a speech then?" Taylor finally asks weakly.
"Yes." Goodwitch repeats, the monosyllabic reply coming down like a conversational guillotine, causing Taylor to stop trying to ask questions, and instead, frantically stare off into the middle distance, as though she might be experiencing some form of a trauma-induced flashback. She maintains her thousand-yard stare for the entire remainder of the short trip, only stopping when she finds herself being ushered onto the stage alongside a whole host of colorful looking characters who's particulars don't interest you in the slightest.
"...Quite a lot of you aren't there." She mumbles, jolting slightly when her voice is amplified to fill the room full of chattering teenagers in attire so bright and colourful that it honestly looks like party store vomited on all of them. This has the unintended effect of causing the room full of kids to stop speaking amongst themselves, and then to dutifully turn to your Master with a sort of reverence. You can actually see your Master strain not to immediately curse at the turn of events. Her lips begin to form the words, and then she stops, sighing.
"Training." She mutters to herself, once more amplified for everyone else to hear.
"Training, is the difference between a warrior and a civilian." She continues on, this time clearly intending to be heard by all present. Looking up, she carefully brushes some of her long hair out of her face before continuing. A few of the students are nodding along to this, as though the statement makes sense to them.
"Duty, is the difference between a warrior, and a soldier." She says, carefully glancing around the room as she speaks, really examining each of the people watching her. At this, a few more of the crowd nod along.
"And Courage, is the difference between a solider, and a Hero." She finishes, pausing to consider.
"Many of you lack one or all of these traits. Some of you might have all of them. But ultimately, that is immaterial. You aren't here to be warriors, or soldiers, or even heros. You're here to learn how to kill monsters, and survive to keep killing monsters. You are here to learn to become-" She pauses, obviously trying to reach for the word, a word that you have used many times in reference to this world, but that holds no real meaning to your Master. Or at least, didn't, before this point. You can see her making connections almost as fast as she is speaking, her mind always just one step ahead of the point she is making.
Then, as the final connection settles into place, she speaks again, eliciting a roar of approval and cheering from the crowd beneath her.
"You are here to become Huntsmen."
Wednesday, February 9th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
"Guh?!?" Taylor squawks as you put a pin in the simulation, drawing her mind up out of the mental morass you had created and allowing her to awaken at her customary time of 'too damn early'.
"Good morning- hrk!" You gurgle from where you are standing next to the bed, only to have all the air rush out of your lungs as she reaches around your middle and hugs you hard enough that you are reasonably certain you would be paraplegic if you lacked your Aura.
"I hate waking up without you." Taylor pouts.
'I'm sorry! Also, I can't breath!' You screech mentally at her in response. Wouldn't that be a way to go. Hugged to death.
"Sorry. Some warning, next time please?" Taylor says sheepishly, before scowling at you.
"Um. That will... probably be happening for the next few days, at least." You admit, rubbing the back of your head and looking away as her eyes narrow on you.
"...Why?" She says pointedly.
"Trying to make room for a whole second person in your head is a lot of work." Your grouse. Taylor looks like she'd like to argue that point, but then frowns.
"...That's... fair. Still." She says in a huff.
"W-what's the plan for today?" You ask quickly, trying to change topics as Taylor hops out of bed and begins to dig around in her dresser for an outfit.
"Sit down with everyone, see what we did wrong, see what we can fix - you know, superhero team stuff." She says with a shrug.
"Ah... well. You should know that Jamie... you might need to talk to him. He had an adverse reaction to Oliver being wounded while under his protection." You state carefully.
"How adverse?" Taylor asks curiously, beginning to throw clothing onto the bed.
"I want to say 'murderous' but perhaps 'eldritch' is more appropriate." You admit, remembering the hellacious ball of teeth and muscle from last night.
"Did anyone actually die?" She asks worriedly, turning to look at you out of the corner of her eye as she speaks.
"Just some of Spree's clones, I think. He stopped before he hurt anybody." You explain, not wanting to oversell the apparent danger here. That would be a disservice to Aspirant if nothing else.
"I'll talk to him." Taylor says succinctly, not seeming altogether to concerned by anything you've described. You'd question it but, as has been pointed out to you many times by now, you don't tend to question your Master. Not in any capacity that could be described as anything more than superficial anyway.
Hence, you choose to change topics.
"So..." You say searching for something else to talk about.
"You think Dad's back in town yet?" Taylor asks, beating you to the punch.
"I- I actually don't know." You realize quickly, considering the matter.
"I guess you could call him?" You suggest.
"On what? He still doesn't have a cellphone." Taylor grumbles.
"You could... uh... magic a bird to go find him and bring back a letter?" You suggest - half in jest. Your Master, ever willing to surprise you, perks up at that, then quickly dashes to her bedroom window to pop it open.
"That's actually a really good idea! Why didn't I think of that?" She says to herself, sticking a hand out the window and concentrating for a few seconds. At first, nothing happens. Then, with alarming speed, a seagull dives out of the air to land on the windowsill, ignoring Taylor's outstretched hand - which is probably for the best. No telling where the beast has been.
"Because you live in a modern society?" You say quietly.
"I'm pretty much the Archmage of the Bay. I own a castle. I fight with a sword. This isn't that big a jump." Taylor points out with a smirk, before turning back to the bird and doing... something... magic to it before tying a piece of paper to its leg and letting it fly off.
"How exactly is it supposed to find your Dad?" You ask curiously.
"Threw a divination spell on it. It should always at least know what direction it has to go. Might have to circle around a bit near the end though. It's not that accurate." She explains, closing the window.
Then she pauses in consideration, eyeing you the way she tends to when she has just thought of something particularly outrageous without realizing it.
"Do you think I could coax the Heap into making me a Wizard Tower?" She asks.
You groan.
Wednesday, February 9th, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
"Hey uh, Boss?" Trainwreck asks as everyone gets seated.
"Mhm?" Taylor answers distractedly, fiddling as she is with the Wardstone in the 'Throne Room'.
"I know you got a whole, 'thing' with the fucking castle and all the magic and shit, but uh, ain't this a bit much?" He asks hesitantly, looking around at everyone else on the team for support in his assertion.
Your Master blinks and looks up from the Wardstone, taking in the sight before her. Shortly after arriving, she had begun to manipulate the room in order to produce a large round table, and had - following that feat - proceeded to grab over a dozen of the nicest chairs she could find from amongst the pile of them brought in by the Dockworkers to seat the thing with. The 'Throne' and Wardstone made up the head of said table, the large stone itself being partially merged into the thing. Around the table to either side of her, sat Parian, Trainwreck, Aspirant and Oliver, leaving over eight seats empty as they grew further from Taylor herself.
"...No?" Taylor half asks, her expression shifting to one of false innocence. You can feel her amused glee at someone even noticing her reference.
"It is a bit overdone," Parian adds carefully, folding her hands in her lap.
"I- I think it's... cooooool." Oliver says, trying for supportive and mostly just ending up sending unsure of himself. Aspirant doesn't really bother to speak, just staring pensively into the distance in a way you're sure is related to last night.
"Oh come on! It's not like I have a camera crew in here for me to show off to. I'm allowed to have hobbies!" Taylor complains, her facade breaking, following which, she starts to giggle.
"Come on! We have a castle! We can't have a castle and not even once make a knights of the round table reference!" She points out when it doesn't look like anyone else quite agrees with her.
"You get one, boss. Don't ask me to make you a tinker tech stone or some shit to shove your sword into." Trainwreck states in mock annoyance.
"I'll shove a sword in your stone." She responds playfully. Everyone at the table freezes at that, causing your Master to blink in surprise.
"Was- was that too much or-?" She says, beginning to panic.
"Yes! She did it! Baby's first dick joke!" Trainwreck yells triumphantly, lifting both arms in the air like a champion boxer. "Pay up fuckers!" He declares.
"You are a corruptive influence, and I'm going to be taking Taylor for a girls day out soon to combat it," Parian says with a haughty sniff, pulling a five dollar bill from within the folds of her dress and passing it to Trainwreck, quickly followed by Aspirant and Oliver doing the same.
"You too!?" Taylor complains, turning aghast towards the blonde boy.
"Um... it seemed like the thing to do?" He offers meekly.
"Traitor. Anyway!" Taylor hisses, before clapping her hands and exclaiming loudly.
"How were we yesterday?" She says bluntly.
"Eh. Most of the thugs weren't a problem. Feels like it woulda been easier to go in all together though. Just, find all the capes and hit em all at once, instead of splitting up." Trainwreck says with a shrug.
"I... don't wish to be rude, but I'd prefer not to be overly involved in too much combat. I'm not sure how much my opinion is worth. I would like to be informed of any further operations though." Parian admits, turning to examine Taylor as she speaks.
"I overestimated myself. It won't happen again." Aspirant states neutrally.
"Yeah, I know that one." Taylor consoles him, leaning forward to rest an elbow on the table and her chin in her palm.
"I... have trouble believing that." Aspirant responds.
"Stick around after the meeting, I'll show you," Taylor says mischievously, before turning to Oliver with a question in her eyes.
"I got shot and went down like a bitch." He says succinctly, then blushes as he realizes how crass that sounds, or rather, how Trainwreck it sounds.
"I- I mean- I used to play this game back in- back before-" He blurts out trying to explain himself.
"Don't worry about it. I get the point. So... you kind of need some support huh." Taylor muses aloud, then sighs.
"On a scale from one to ten, how do you feel about untested magical experimentation?" She says suddenly.
"...Scared?" Oliver says, blanching slightly.
"...Fair. Okay. Untested magical experimentation that will make you bulletproof. Mostly. Probably." She tries again.
"...Still pretty scared?" Oliver repeats.
"Oh. Nevermind then. Hm." Taylor says with a frown, tapping one finger on the Wardstone in thought.
"W-wait! I didn't say no!" Oliver blurts out.
"Oh, thank god. I worked super hard on this. Come here." Taylor says exhaling sharply, waving Oliver towards her, who slowly shuffles around the table to stand next to the throne.
"Do I need to like, kneel or something...?" He asks carefully.
"Maybe when you're older," Taylor says dryly, blinking and then scowling at Trainwreck when he starts cackling at her verbal slip. She ignores Oliver's bright red face as she continues on.
"No, sorry. Just stick your finger out over the stone." She instructs, and Oliver quickly does so.
"Let's see... I bestow this power on you, provided you follow these tenets; Defend those in need, Abide by the law, and be loyal to our cause." She states succinctly, flicking a finger in Oliver's direction and causing a thin cut on his finger that bleeds a single drop of blood onto the Wardstone, which begins to pulse in time to an unseen heartbeat.
"For it is in struggle that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become an engine of virtue and glory to rise above all, determined in life and unafraid of death. I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee." She recites - the chant slightly different than what you recall, although you choose not to mention it at this juncture.
Like a man who has just stuck his finger in a light socket, Oliver stiffens, then is suffused by a magenta glow that passes over him before fading, allowing his stiff posture to slacken.
"What the hell was that!?" He blurts out suddenly, snatching his hand back and looking around in dismay.
"Magic," Taylor answers with a shrug. It's not, but you get the impression she's going to get a lot of mileage out of lumping every esoteric thing she can do together under 'Magic'. You suppose that at the pace she acquires new abilities it serves as a good enough explanation for the average layman.
"That's not-" He starts to blurt out, obviously about to say 'real' but thinks better of it, his face going blank as Trainwreck laughs and Parian politely titters at him from behind one hand.
"No, go ahead. Tell me about how my powers work." Taylor says dryly, one eyebrow raised archly towards the boy who splutters stupidly before giving up and sitting back down in his chair with a noticeable slump in his posture.
"Thought so. Now! Your officially sort of bulletproof! Did you have any idea what you wanted to do for a costume or I dunno, a name? I realize we were calling you Oliver out in the field last night which seems unwise." Taylor says, leaning back in her throne smugly.
"I... honestly have no idea," Oliver says with a wince.
"Seriously? Nothing?" Taylor asks incredulously.
"Nope." He replies seriously, the 'p' sound popping as he says it. Pretty much immediately, the entire table begins to speak up, with everyone - including your Master - offering their opinion on what sort of theme and equipment Oliver should have.
Eventually, the group settles on;
[ ] A Knight. You've already got a table and everything. Might as well go for broke. (Associated Gear: Enchanted/Tinker Suit of Armor)(Role: Brute)
[ ] A Battle Butler. Because Trainwreck had to stare at you Master's literal throne all evening and the idea of training Oliver to be a Butler amuses the shit out of him. (Associated Gear: Enchanted Gloves & Shoes) (Role: Mover)
[ ] A Soldier. Parian thinks Oliver could pull off a super soldier theme with the right costume. He's already got peak physicality and skills. (Associated Gear: Enchanted/Tinker Firearm) (Role: Blaster)
[ ] Write-In
Finally, after a great deal of arguing, the group mostly disperses to work on other things, leaving just your Master and Aspirant in the room together.
And you, but you're always present. Which... isn't as creepy as it sounds, you guess.
"You... wanted to talk to me." Jamie says with a grimace, obviously expecting a dressing down over the nights events.
"Yeah... how many ways do you think I have to kill you? Like, right now." Taylor asks suddenly out of the blue, causing the other boy - currently out of any combat form and merely looking like a normal teenager in clothes too big for him - to jerk backwards slightly in shock.
"Is that... relevant?" He asks gingerly.
"Totally. Go on, guess." Taylor says with a dismissive wave of the hand.
"Two... Three?" He answers slowly, eyes darting about the room as if seeking a trap. Taylor snorts.
"Try dozens. The second or... third? Power I ever got. Wanna know what it does?" She asks.
"Your aura? I had assumed it affected gravity somehow but-" Jamie begins to say, leaning in as the topic catches his interest.
"No, that was the first power I ever got. The third was a kind of combat precog power. Wanna know how it works?" She says dryly.
"I... assume by seeing the future? In combat?" Jamie states sarcastically.
"Not even close. I mean yeah, that too, I guess, but mostly, it tells me how to kill things. All the time. Everywhere. For everything. Every time I let my mind drift for a second, it's there in the back of my head, pointing out the quickest route to the nearest persons jugular, or the easiest point to stab through to disembowel them. It compounds with all my other powers terribly. I can't walk into a room with other capes with having a hundred ways to kill everyone in it drop into the back of my head. Stab, bludgeon, burn, blast. Just... constantly." Taylor answers blandly, causing Jamie's eyes pupils to become as wide as saucers as he takes in that information.
"But- you've never-" He splutters.
"Actually killed anyone? Yeah, I'm as surprised as you are, trust me." She says with a shrug.
"How... how do you resist it?" He asks hesitantly, looking apprehensive.
"I mostly don't. I just know deep down that listening to it won't help me achieve anything. I want to be a hero, so killing everyone I fight would be detrimental to that. I want to capture this criminal so he can go to trial, if I decapitate him, that can't happen. Stuff like that. Also, it's... sort of gross." She admits.
"So... logic then," Jamie says dejectedly.
"No, not at all. It's..." Taylor pauses to consider, tilting her head from left to right as though trying to roll a thought around in her head before speaking.
"It's a feeling I guess. I don't think it won't help. I know it. In here." She says, tapping her chest right where her heart should be.
"I... don't think that will help me. For me, it was if... everything was making sense. Finally, everything just... made sense. I have something I care about. I have a cause. A place to be and things to do. And then Oliver got shot, and it no longer made sense. I didn't get mad because of Oliver, I got mad because of the disarray his wound caused me." Jamie admits ashamed.
"...Do you think an hour trying to murder me every day would help?" Taylor offers tentatively, causing Jamie's head to snap around to stare at her again.
"What?" He squawks.
"I mean, if your problem is you can't think straight when you lose your composure like that, then the answer is to practice until you can right?" She points out easily.
"We already spar fairly frequently-" Jamie tries to say but is cut off by Taylor's loud snort of derision in response.
"I didn't say spar. I said try to kill me." She explains.
"But you could get hurt!" He shouts back in horror, which is fair, given everything you've seen of Aspirant when he isn't holding back, or at least, holding to a mostly humanoid form. Taylor snorts again.
"Listen, one, if you seriously manage to harm me I can heal myself, and two, you probably won't." She says, laughing when Jamie's eyes narrow at her dismissal of his chances.
"Tell you what though. If you can hurt me, I'll get Trainwreck a date with the next attractive woman of his choosing." She drawls, clearly never expecting to have to follow through on such a thing. You wince. You agree that your Master probably doesn't have too much to fear from Aspirant when she's trying her hardest, but you suspect she might be behaving just a bit cockily right now.
"Fine, deal. If you'll excuse me, I have to go train." Jamie responds sharply, although you can tell he is in noticeably higher spirits than he was at the beginning of the meeting.
"Just one thing. Call your parents. Please?" Taylor says, shooting a pleading look Jamie's way. When he doesn't immediately respond, she endeavours to pout at him.
"...Fine." He bites out, before leaving the room.
"Hah! Still got it!" She crows happily.
'Master, I don't think guilting him by looking pathetic counts.' You point out fondly, the moment oddly reminiscent of your Master's first meeting with the boy who would be Aspirant.
'What was that? I couldn't hear you over all my Wizardly Might.' She responds smugly.
You smile at your Master's antics, but otherwise, drop the topic.
School tomorrow. Choose One (1). Taylor will automatically spend any extra time continuing her current training, if any.
[ ] Continue Training (Ozma Sub Emulation)
[ ] Go on the Offensive (Accord)
[ ] Go on the Offensive (Travellers)
[ ] You should go on patrol to see if any other unaffiliated Capes have snuck into the city during the chaos.
[ ] Have Taylor take some time out to fortify the Heap with Onmyoudo.
[ ] Uber and Leet got away. They're a minor annoyance at best, but still. You should at least track them down.
[ ] Who was it Mouse was looking for? Ravager?
[ ] Some of the Teeth got away. Spree, Hemorrhagia, Reaver. Aspirant seems pretty worked up about it.
[ ] Write-In
A/N: Tada~ Taylor finally has someone to test the 'break this oath and lose your aura. or die. possibly die. don't break the oath.' spell on. Olivers got a solid 63 in Aura Capacity, and I found the fact that he's a pretty boy with bright pink aura (I random roll it) hilarious. Anyway. Here you go. Have at it. Write-In's for Olivers shtick just need a Theme and a piece of gear for Taylor/Parian/Trainwreck to magic/sew/tinker up together. Who does what depends on what it is. I will also take suggestions for Cape names in that vote, but they aren't required, I'll come up with something once a theme is settled on.
For anyone wondering, Since Taylor automatically trains anyway, choosing to Continue training means that the only action Taylor performs the next day is 'meditate her way into an Ozma simulation', and is effectively double training. If you don't vote for it, you'll still do some training.
Anyway. Usual disclaimers apply. Sleep deprivation. Spelling. Grammer. Mercy.
Have fun with it.
689
Bowler Hat Guy
Sep 26, 2020
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Threadmarks Succession 9.6
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Bowler Hat Guy
Bowler Hat Guy
A Hat & Its Man
Sep 29, 2020
#20,426
Spoiler: Choices:
Current Energy: 2
Current Training: Ozma Sub Emulation (5/10) - (9/10)
Thursday, February 10th, 2011
???, ???
"I dislike this, just on principle." Taylor states bluntly, eyeballing the line of students, each one spaced roughly five feet apart from the others, arrayed before her on the edge of a massive cliff face overlooking a brilliant emerald forest.
The forest, coincidentally, is named, 'Emerald Forest', which just goes to show that fighting a war for freedom of expression doesn't make you a poet.
"This is how we've always done things. I don't see why you are only now taking issue with it." Glynda Goodwitch state primly, eyes firmly locked on the digital table in her hands as she finalizes her preparations for the test.
Taylor, bless her heart, returned to the simulation at exactly the same point in time at which she left it. This meant that she went from 'blissfully falling asleep' to 'standing in front of a crowd of rowdy superpowered teenagers' in the space of about four seconds. The fact that she really just grumbled irritably before moving on instead of freaking out at her suddenly changed situation is a testament to her tolerance for weird occurrences. You can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing, but it's something.
Currently, your Master, along with Glynda - who you suppose was Ozpin's assistant in life or something - have taken to the immense cliff the school rests upon, in order to... well...
"I'm taking issue with it because your plan is to catapult teenagers you know nothing about, into a forest full of grimm, and are then going to force them to spend the next four years working with the first person they encounter!" Taylor scowls, sticking a hand out emphatically to point at a blond boy who has frozen in place, turning with a shakey expression to stare incredulously at your Master in response to her outburst. Not of the other students seem to notice. Or if they do, they don't appear to care one way or the other.
"The life of a Huntsman is a hard one. It's best that we learn if they can make the cut now, instead of when lives are on the line." Glynda entreats, as though attempting to explain to a child why bad things happen to good people.
"Bullshit! Look at that guy! He looks like he's going to piss himself! How is he supposed to know what to do if he hasn't been trained to do it yet? They've been here for like a day!" Taylor counters, pointing at the blond boy.
"Um, I think maybe she has a-" He begins to yell across the field to them, raising one arm for attention, only for Glynda to glance his way and then flick her tablet screen. This results in the ground beneath the boy exploding upward to reveal a metal pad carefully hidden beneath the grass. It rises with such force that it catapults the boy forward, eliciting an immediate girlish scream of terror from him that is quickly drowned out by the sounds of the other students as they launch. To your Master's annoyance, with the exception of the first boy, the noises they make are overwhelmingly those of excitement.
"I assure you, they are in no real danger. A preteen with the bare minimum of experience in a combat school could manage in the Emerald Forest. We keep the grimm there culled down to a manageable level for just these occasions." Glynda says with a sniff, her tablet screen changing to display a top down view of a ginger haired girl landing atop the skull of a Beowulf with a resounding crash, before cackling madly as she dashes off to viciously bludgeon another with her absurdly sized hammer.
"If even one of these kids gets badly injured..." Taylor grumbles menacingly, even as she crowds closer to Glynda to watch what is happening below.
"They won't," Glynda answers with a roll of her eyes.
Several minutes pass in tense silence as your Master watches the ongoing struggles of the fledgling Huntsmen below in the forest. She cheers quietly when the first boy encounters his partner - a red haired girl with a gentle and friendly demeanour. She quirks a brow in annoyance when a smaller girl and her white haired companion continually argue for the entire trial. She laughs raucously when the ginger haired girl from earlier forcibly begins riding one of the bear shaped Grimm through the forest, ultimately arriving at her final destination just in time for the thing to die of exhaustion.
Ultimately, your Master spends the better part of an hour watching a bunch of teenagers murder their way through the Death Forest and loves it.
That is, until two of the groups get into a fight with a pair of Grimm that are just a bit above their skill level to handle. Your Master barely pauses in her switch from observant amusement to homicidal intervention, sticking a hand out for her sword and moving through the beginning motions of opening a gap to her destination.
"Just wait," Glynda instructs tiredly, frowning at Taylor for a moment before turning back to the screen. Hesitantly, she relaxes but doesn't relinquish her grip on her weapon.
Slowly, as the fight progresses and the eight students your Master has taken most note of prove that they can handle the situation, Taylor relaxes slightly. As the group begins to make its way back to the cliffside in order to take the long and arduous path back up to you, she squints at Glynda, who quirks a sardonic eyebrow in response.
"I thought you said nothing that big would be in there." She says suspiciously.
"We can't monitor the area twenty-four seven. Even if we could, it's a large area. Some things were bound to slip through." Glynda answers with a shrug, completely unphased by the accusation.
"Hm. Are they the last students left?" She asks, gesturing to the tablet Glynda is holding.
"Yes. By now the rest of the staff should have already worked out their team names. We should get back so we can be ready before the assembly." Glynda notes with a pleased expression on her face, obviously glad the hard part is over for the day.
"Just one second," Taylor states, turning back to the forest and concentrating. Slowly, an orb of vaguely blue energy begins to swirl about between her palms. The orb grows more vigorous as your master focuses until it is roughly the size of a volleyball, different shades of blue whirling madly about as though trying to escape the confines of the orb. Carefully, she pulls one hand away from the thing, draws her sword, and opens a gap to somewhere, then returns the hand to the orb while sweating slightly.
"Headmaster? What exactly are you doing?" Glynda asks worriedly as she eyes the glowing ball with no small amount of trepidation. In lieu of answering, Taylor twists slightly, encasing the orb in a shield of hazy green energy. Then she shoves the entire strange apparatus through the gap, and withdraws her hands, closing the gap behind them with a sigh of relief.
"Just making sure the forest is properly cleared. We won't need it again until next year anyway." She states brightly, although there is a hint of something malicious in her tone that Glynda obviously catches onto, because her head swivels quickly to the left in order to stare down at the forest - just in time for a tiny spec of green in the distance above it to flicker, and then pulse, releasing a hail of blue energy blasts down upon the entirety of the forest as if a giant had decided to fire a scale automatic weapon down at the locale. There is - very briefly - the deafening sound of hundreds of trees, Grimm, and stones, being broken by the onslaught of firepower, after which the silence is deafening.
Your Master takes a moment to gaze proudly down at what is left of the once proud forest, and then promptly blacks out.
Thursday, February 10th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
"Emmy?" Taylor asks you as her eyes snap open in bed.
"...Yes?" You ask hesitantly.
"Can you do cool simulations like that all the time, like, for fun?" She asks curiously as she gets up.
"Unfortunately, no. It's just a..." You pause grasping for the correct terminology to use here. It isn't that you can't do that kind of thing casually, just that your current configuration won't allow it.
"Side effect? Yeah, it's a side effect of moving Ozma over." You say eventually with a shrug.
"Oh... damn," Taylor says with a frown.
[Please do not rain down hellfire on my home if ever you should find yourself there.] Ozma states blandly, and you smile wryly as you pass on the message. Taylor just snorts as she gets dressed for the day.
"I don't see the problem. I made sure all the kids were out of the forest first. I bet I could clear the area around that city in no time." She says obstinately.
"You just want an excuse to go all out without getting yelled at don't you?" You note with some amusement.
"No one will believe you~" She sing songs at you as she pulls a sweater over her head, wiggling until her head pops out through the neck of the thing.
"Fair. What's the plan for today?" You ask easily transitioning the topic.
"The usual I guess. Can't take the team out right away with the way things went the other day. We'll have to get Oliver's -sorry Huntsman's equipment finished and get him trained on it before we move out again. Plus there's Aspirant." She says with a one shouldered shrug. At this, you clear your throat then eye her pointedly before speaking.
"Do you think we could spend some extra time in the ah... simulation, today?" You ask carefully, trying to allude to your limited time remaining in this world as 'you' without saying it directly.
"...Sure." Taylor answers, then exhales slowly. You wince, already knowing what she is likely thinking about.
"Let me just... call Trainwreck then." She says with some conviction, turning away from you and snatching her older model cellphone off the table, dialling a number and then walking out of the room with you trailing behind her as it rings.
"Wreck?" Taylor asks as the call connects and she reaches the kitchen, pulling the phone away from her ear and changing it to speaker as she puts it on the counter and begins to search about for food.
"Boss, I love yah, but it's fucking six am. What?" You hear in response over the phone, causing Taylor to roll her eyes as she searches a cupboard, finds nothing to her interests, and then frowns.
"I won't be coming around after school today like I want. If you get started on Olly's stuff I'll do my part tomorrow. Can you see if Miss Militia will tell you anything about the other cape groups in the city? What's been happening recently?" She asks, ignoring the pitiful moaning coming from Trainwreck through the phone as she speaks.
"I already did that. Accord is getting all the local Yakuza types squared away. Guy seems to really dig what some of the older ABB guys consider 'manners'. Coil hasn't done shit, which aint a surprise. His part of the city has always been pretty safe overall. No reason for him to screw that up now. Uber and Leet, I'm pretty sure ran the fuck away. No one with two brain cells to rub together would willingly work in a city you live in. The-" He begins to rapidly reel off only to be stopped by your Master, who looks at the phone in confusion.
"What? I'm not that bad. I've never even permanently injured anyone!" Taylor says in annoyance.
"What Uber and Leet? Those guys are C listers. They're used to goons like Armsmaster showing up and putting on a show with them that they can run away from afterwards. You'd just show up, dick punch their souls or whatever, and then throw them into a nightmare portal until you remember to drop them off at the PRT. Risks are too high. Better to just go somewhere else." Trainwreck explains with a sigh.
"That's not stopping all these other guys from showing up." She grouses.
"Boss. That ain't a good thing. Only crazy stupid, and crazy powerful people choose to hang out in Alexandria's city. You've got the same vibe to yah." He says helpfully before continuing his explanation.
"Anyway. The Undersiders haven't been doing much. Mostly hitting some of the small time groups that have been popping up, stopping them from getting any traction so they don't balloon to fill the power vacuum. The Travellers have been quiet, but they sorta share working space with the Undersiders, popping bubbles before they get too big. The PRT have been avoiding sending any of the Wards anywhere near there established turf, on account of one of their kids offing one of them. Afraid of some of that eye for an eye shit I guess." Trainwreck continues dully, his tone obviously trying to get across how tired he actually is as he speaks.
"What about the Teeth?" Taylor asks, tensing slightly.
"Dunno. Haven't heard shit about 'em. The ones that got away from us I mean. The PRT is trying to arrange transport with Dragon cus they're afraid a ground vehicle would be too easy a target though. Their prison is getting kind of full." He says stonily.
"What about-" Taylor starts to ask but Trainwreck groans loudly cutting her off.
"Boss. Please." He pleads. Taylor huffs in response.
"Fine. I'll talk to you later." She says, stretched a hand out to hang up the phone after Trainwrecks on half mumbled goodbye.
"Well that's one down." She mumbles.
"Who else is there?" You ask curiously.
"Dad and Jess." Taylor explains quickly, then frowns staring up at the ceiling, and adds; "Also, Mouse I guess."
"I haven't seen her since the day before yesterday actually. I'm not sure she actually came back at all." You note with a frown.
"Hm." Taylor grunts noncommittally, returning to her cooking - pancakes, by the look of it. Several minutes pass, during which time, your Master carefully plates enough pancakes to feed roughly six people.
You take two. Not two 'peoples' worth, or two 'plates'. You had two pancakes. Your Master ate the rest. All of the rest.
"I will never understand where you put all of it." You state bluntly, carefully sectioning off a piece of pancake to take a bite out of. Taylor shrugs at you, her current eating habits having formed not long after she got her powers and having done nothing if not get worse the longer you've been around.
"Muffles." She states blandly, the word coming out muffled by the two and a half pancakes she is current trying to swallow whole as she speaks.
You quirk an eyebrow at her, but before you can say anything else on the topic, the front door of the house bursts open, and Danny half stomps half stumbles past you. His shirt is torn in multiple places. One of his pant legs is missing. And there is a pidgeon sitting on his shoulder cooing periodically at nothing at all as he moves past, a sour expression on his face.
"Dad!?" Taylor blurts out, in obvious concern, standing up suddenly to rush over to him.
"Danny! Your truck is on fire again!" a womans voice yells frantically from outside - Jess. Danny stops in his tracks, turns to look at Taylor, then turns to look back out the front door, then turns back to Taylor, his eyes closed as he gathers his thoughts.
"Let me... I just need to deal with this." Danny says tiredly, turning around with a completely fake smile and stumbling into the garage, which already has a thick plume of black smoke coming from under the door.
"Dad what the hell?! Why do you look like a bear mauled you?" Taylor asks in distress.
"Because a bear mauled me." He says in a matter of fact way, pushing the garage door open and stepping in to stare at his old beat up truck. Where before, the thing was old but well cared for, now, it looks like it might be held together by literaly duck tape and prayer. Your not even really sure which one of those would be most effective given the state of the thing. It's a small wonder the machine even turns on. It is missing all the doors on one side. One tire has clearly gone flat. The hood is missing, and a small fire appears to be raging across the innerds of the vehicle, one that doesn't appear to actually have any source or fuel, but burns regardless. To one side, Jess is desperately using the household fire extinguisher on the blaze to little effect, her clothes in a similar state of disrepair to Danny's.
"I'm going to kill her...! I don't care what Mike says, I'll do it in public!" She hisses angrily, leaping away as a tongue of flame reaches towards her.
"Taylor can... can you throw the car in the Bay? Please?" Danny says with a hollow look in his eyes.
"Um... okay?" She says hesitantly, looking back and forth between her father and the vehicle, the fire reflecting in the mans unblinking eyes. Of course, he quickly shakes himself free of his trance when Taylor concentrates for a second, opening a Gap beneath the vehicle and dropping it presumably somewhere out in the bay.
There is silence for a few minutes, and the Danny says;
"We will never talk about this." Jess nods along emphatically to his statement.
"I'd still like to know what the hell is going on?" Taylor puts forth, drawing the attention of both adults, who look to her, then eachother, and then back to her again.
"We respectfully refuse." Danny states.
"But-" Taylor tries to reason.
"I'm going to bed." He says, cutting Taylor off and beginning to do that half stumble half walk to get back into the house and up the stairs, Jess trailing behind him without thinking.
"...I have so many questions." Taylor states after the pair vanish up the stairs, the pigeon in tow.
"Maybe he'll feel like talking after he wakes up?" You offer.
"Yeah..." Taylor says pensively, still staring after her Father.
"Dad?" Taylor yells up the stairs as you appear in the entryway of her home, school having gone by largely without incident.
Her loud yell is met with silence, and so, frowning, your Master tentatively climbs the stairs, rounds the banister, and knocks on the door to her father's bedroom.
"Dad?" She repeats, now growing worried, then pauses to listen. Quietly - almost too quietly really - you can hear loud snoring coming through the door. Eyeing the thing warily you pointedly gesture towards the door then become intangible.
Unlike every time in recent history that you have offered to break and enter to get information for your Master, this time she hesitates for just a moment before shaking her head at you with a grimace.
"I'll just ask him what happened when he wakes up." She finally decides, glancing once more at the door with a frown before travelling to her own bedroom, kicking her shoes into a gap that likely leads to the shoe rack downstairs without actually looking at the hole in spacetime.
"Right. So. Weird simulation thing. Ready?" She asks, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. You nod at her, smiling.
"Yep. Might want to lay down though. You'll just fall over if your sitting when we start." You warn carefully. Taylor frowns at you but leans back in her bed to stare at the ceiling. Carefully, you spool up the process that will drop her consciousness into the scenario, only for your Master to clear her through loudly and pointedly at you, causing you to blink owlishly at her.
"We have rules in this house." She states seriously, patting the area of the bed beside her and drawing a snort from you. You're going to miss this.
That thought in mind, you carefully sidle over to the bed and lay down next to your Master, who promptly snakes an arm around you to draw you into a pseudo hug.
"Now, you may begin." She says smugly, closing her eyes. You roll your own in response, and then comply, completing the process you had already started, and blinking once, before finding yourself in an entirely different locale.
"Ah. Not our... greatest... moment..." Ozpin says with a somewhat pained tone to his voice as the pair of you look around, along with a slightly dazed Taylor.
"Yeah..." You agree, unsure how to feel about things. Presently, you are located in Ozpin's office at the top of his tower. That is the only familiar sight to be seen. The walls of the tower have been blasted apart, leaving it open to the air outside, and beyond, you can clearly see dozens of small fires, along with the sporadic yells of people fighting throughout the castle, and the city beneath it.
"What the hell is going on!?" Taylor screeches frantically, obviously confused by the sudden change to the area. In the distance, an honest to god dragon is flying about, laying siege to the city without tremendous blasts of flame. Small dots of black flake away from it as it flys about, and upon closer inspection, it becomes obvious that each one is a small Grimm, the black creatures fully taking shape only as the hit the ground below.
"Strange though. Right now, I would have been, well. I believe I had died by this point." Ozpin notes, glancing down at the city with a grimace.
"I extrapolated. Taylor isn't as useless as you are." You say smugly.
"...Quite," Ozpin mutters neutrally.
"Some warning! Would have been! Nice!" Taylor yells, as she sprints for the edge of the tower and keeps going, rushing across the sky like a comet as she slowly gains speed towards the Grimm Dragon. Blessedly, unlike your usual method of keeping up with your Master at such speeds, which consists largely of 'falling infinitely' until she slows to a stop and catches you, in this simulation, you can simply shift what passes for your Avatar along next to her, seamlessly floating in the sky adjacent to her as she runs, skidding to a stop on the air as the dragon whirls about the meet her - fairly obvious - approach.
Obviously, because your Master's power flares behind her like a cloak, leaving her spidery emanation of pure energy travelling across the sky like it was somehow crawling across the stars themselves. Your sure the sight must be very impressive from below.
"Nemesis!" Your Master yells hurriedly as the thing turns towards her, flicking her sword hand to the side and swinging the blade upward sharply, causing a precise edge of pure spiritual power to flit forth, scouring the point that attaches the dragon to one of it's wings, but not hitting deeply enough to sever the thing.
"Did she actually think that would work?" Ozpin asks curiously.
"It probably would have if she wasn't being mindful of collateral damage." You point out. Typically, your Master could just use a contract card to avoid such concerns, but that obviously wasn't an option against things she actually wanted to kill. Not a lot of prisons designed with 'giant dragon' in mind after all.
"Come the hell on! Why do you guys have Endbringers! This is bullshit!" Taylor complains, quickly leaping to the side to avoid a blast of flame from the beast's maw as it flys through the space she was just occupying. Annoyed, she looks down at the city below, and then at the skys nearby, where a number of airships are quickly evacuating as many people as possible. Scowling, she waves Nemesis at the Dragon, causing it to freeze in place as the air around it suddenly becomes solid. The strain on your Master at doing this to such a large target is obvious. The futility of the task even more so, as cracks begin to form across the night sky while the thing struggles to escape it's binds.
"How the hell does this even happen?" She asks no one in particular, turning to dash towards the nearest airship, where she lands on the deck and immediately begins yelling at people.
"Oi! Who's in charge of these things!" She yells, causing a terrified looking man to emerge from the crowd and salute to her for some reason.
"M- M'am! We're nearly done evacuating everyone!" He reports loudly.
"Get on the radio or whatever the hell it is you people have here and tell everyone to stay away from that side of the city." Taylor instructs, pointing to the area with the fewest visible airships hovering over it, in the direction of the ocean.
"M'am!" The soldier salutes shakily, before running off.
"Headmaster, what are you doing!?" A new voice calls out, causing Taylor to pause in her attempted leap away from the ship to turn towards the voice, which turns out to belong to a short pale girl in an entirely impractical red dress. You smile faintly at the sight of her. It's not the real Ruby Rose, any more than you are the real Oscar Pine. But somehow the sight of her is still comforting in a way you can't quite put into words.
"Handling the problem. Is the rest of your team okay?" Taylor says quickly, glancing towards the Dragon, which has already managed to break free of most of its bindings with a sound like glass shattering.
"Yes. But Pyrrha... she..." The girl says, downcast. Taylor's gaze hardens at the name.
"I'll deal with it. Stay safe." She repeats solemnly before taking off towards the Dragon again.
"Okay! Let's try this again!" She declares, waving her khopesh at the thing in a way that causes it to abruptly slow down. Not in a time dilated sense, but a momentum sense. As if each flap of the great beast's wings is barely enough to keep it aloft.
That task done, Taylor dashes forward, leaping over the biting maw of the beast mouth to land steadily on it's back, and stabbing her sword into its oily hide in order to gain purchase.
"Okay. Magic. Easy." She says under her breath.
"I highly doubt..." Ozpin begins dubiously only to pause when your Master's free hand rises and a tremendous blue collar of energy appears around the beasts next, with a series of heavy blue chains attached to it, leading to your Master's fist.
"You probably don't know me!" She yells grandiosely as she gets a firm grip on those chains with both hands, standing and using her prodigious strength to yank on them hard, forcing the dragon to bank to one side, flailing and thrashing as it tries to free itself of its rider.
"But the man who taught me how to deal with Dragons!" She continues, heedless of the fact that the creature almost certainly can't actually understand her. Through it all, she has been yanking on her adhoc reins, steering the beast towards the ocean while sweating and fighting against it.
"He was kind of a psycho!" She declares ruthlessly just as the beast of Grimm flies over the water. With that, she removes one hand from the chains to stab downward with and empty hand, causing a huge spear of blue energy to skewer the dragons back. And then another, and another. Very quickly, your Master finds herself riding the beast of Grimm deep into the waters of the ocean below, holding her breath driving the thing every further below the waves using an incessant barrage of glowing giant weaponry.
Despite the harrowing nature of the task, the inherent danger in the way she is obviously going about doing it, and the blatantly insane fashion in which she has chosen achieve her goals, you would assume that your Master would be somewhat scared. Or at least... worried. And yet... she is not. She is, if anything, elated by this fight, if not particularly enthused by it's immediate aftermath or causes. You would almost describe the sensation you get from your Master as blissful, if it wasn't so overtly violent.
Suddenly, your Master's question from that morning pops into your mind, her request for you to make more such simulations for her to partake in, and things just click. Your Master is many things, but, in particular, and despite all else, she always takes care to ensure that the people around her don't feel threatened by her. She holds back. She makes a point of not violently overwhelming her opposition with a despair inducing amount of force. She chooses not to be nearly as flashy as she could be.
So naturally, when faced with a situation that she ultimately knows isn't real, with consequences that she knows she will never have to face, she has chosen to... play... for lack of a better word.
Suddenly, your method for moving Ozma seems like it might not have been the best idea you ever had.
You are shocked out of such thoughts by a burst of bubbles from your Master's mouth as she exhales, finally being unable to hold her breath. You... think. She's smiling that slasher smile she picked up from your first Emulation, and might possibly even be laughing while she and a giant dragon mutually drown to death.
Your surroundings begin to darken as your Master continues to laugh, signalling her growing fall into unconsciousness, only to snap back into focus when a pocket of air pulses into being around her.
"Okay. This? I love this. Can we do this again?" She asks the air around her, obviously aware that you are present and watching if not necessarily from where.
"Emmy. Is it possible that Taylor might be a... what is the word..." Ozma says, trailing off thoughtfully.
"Lunatic? Nnnnooooo?" You try - and fail, to say convincingly. Ozma turns to you with a flat stare on his face.
"I was going to say 'Battle Junkie'" he says in a blank monotone.
"Oh. Probably." You answer with a shrug.
Well, that was... something... Choose One (1). Taylor will automatically spend any extra time continuing her current training, if any.
[ ] Complete Training (Ozma Sub Emulation 9/10) (1 Energy to Complete) (Choose two additional actions)
[ ] Patrol/Scout while your team prepares. (Choose a group: Travellers, Undersiders, Accord, Coil.)
(Choose two people to come with you: Victoria, Any Ward, Aspirant, Trainwreck, Miss Militia)
[ ] Have Taylor take some time out to fortify the Heap with Onmyoudo.
[ ] You haven't seen Mouse in a while. Might want to look for her.
[ ] Some of the Teeth got away. Spree, Hemorrhagia, Reaver. Aspirant seems pretty worked up about it.
[ ] Take Time Off (Pick an Extra Social)
[ ] Write-In
It's Friday tomorrow, which means your Master has time to be a normal teenager for once. Choose one person to socialize with after school.
[ ] Victoria *
[ ] Amy *
[ ] Aspirant *
[ ] Trainwreck *
[ ] Parian *
[ ] Danny *
[ ] Oliver
[ ] Miss Militia
[ ] Vista
[ ] Jess
Spoiler: Author's Note, also, Subvotes
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Bowler Hat Guy
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Bowler Hat Guy
Bowler Hat Guy
A Hat & Its Man
Oct 1, 2020
#20,664
Spoiler: Choices:
Current Energy: 1
Current Training: Ozma Sub Emulation (9/10) - Complete!
Friday, February 11th, 2011
???, ???
[Well, this is way less fun than the last time.] Taylor remarks casually, as Oscar, not... you... but... the copy of the boy who you are emulating that you...
...
The person you are emulating, bolts upright in his bed. The room is... tiny. Basically just a section of attic with a door attached to it. The old wooden floor and walls, along with the somewhat rustic construction of the small bed in one corner of the room beneath an open window speaks to quiet, humble existence. Oscar Pine, at a glance, is not a boy destined for greatness. Not a hero in the making. He is, if nothing else, a teenage boy - who has presently, sleapt in.
"Wuh?!" Oscar blurts out, jolting awake and looking around to find the source of the voice.
"A little on the nose." Ozma notes dryly.
"Listen, I'm not a movie director. This is what I've got. Get off my case." You grouse in response, crossing your arms and pouting slightly.
"And how did she end up dead in order to make the transfer if she is so much 'better' than I am?" Ozma continues idly, glancing about the room while pointedly not turning his knowing smirk on you.
"It's called narrative fiat. Shush. Let me have this." You complain again.
"Hello?" Oscar calls out tentatively into the room, carefully picking up the book that had fallen off of his chest when he jolted upward, having invariably fallen asleep while reading, likely while avoiding his chores for the day.
[Yo.] Taylor greets the boy before you loudly, obvious amusement edging out her mild distress at being temporarily disembodied when he stiffens and whips his head around again, panicking at the idea of an intruder in his home.
"Wh- who are you?! Where are you!?" Oscar yells desperately, casting about for a weapon and, when one is not immediately forthcoming, lifts his book overhead in a cute attempt at appearing threatening.
[Voice in your head. It's just as weird for me as it is for you. Oh! Oh! Call me Emmy! Come on! Do it!] Taylor says, immediately pleased with herself for some reason. Your facial expression cramps slightly as you watch her antics, and Ozma, ever stoic, stifles the beginnings of an amused snort.
"Voice in my- this is some kind of trick. You- you aren't actually in my head. There's a speaker in here somewhere or-" Oscar scowls, eyes panning across the room.
[Nope. Look it's a really long story that would probably make you question your existence, but just, pretend I'm here to be your new best friend.] Taylor explains patiently, obviously not having much else to do by this point.
"I don't need a best friend!" Oscar scowls again, though he does begin to look doubtful as his continued searching turns up no obvious device for the voice to be coming from.
[Come on, don't be such a baby. You're the chosen one or some such. What kid doesn't want to go on an adventure with the voice in their head?] Taylor points out in amusement. Honestly, she even sort of seemed like she might have been convincing the Oscar, until she got to that last part.
"Me! I don't! And- and you're not a voice in my head! You're not real!" Oscar scowls back.
[Okay. I'll be here when something bad happens I guess.] Taylor replies with the mental equivalent of a shrug. The easy admittance seems to throw Oscar off for a second, but he quickly rallies, still standing rigidly in the center of his room.
"So... just like that? You'll leave me alone?" He says hopefully.
[Sure. It's your life. I'm just here to make it better. Let me know if you want to blow up a forest or something. I'm gonna take a nap. I think. This is really weird.] Taylor answers, before her presence swiftly fades away.
Oscar, still somewhat put off by the entire thing, spends another several minutes searching his room for speakers. Ultimately, it takes him less than a day to put the entire thing out of mind. Not just because it was so weird, but because - truthfully - it was pretty far fetched in the first place.
It isn't until the next day, while Oscar is casually dragging around a sack full of fruit that he is casually harvesting for the day, that it comes up again. His aunt, noticing the ease with which he is working, makes a joke about puberty.
This does not embarass him, not at all (that anyone could prove), but it does highlight something for him.
Since when could he lift a two hundred pound sack of fruit one handed so easily?
[Fringe benefits of being my ride, I think. If women with red hair start to make you irrationally angry I'm sorry.] Taylor speaks, answering his thoughts as though she had been waiting for an opportunity to present herself this entire time.
"...What?" Oscar blurts in bewildered confusion.
[There's sort of some... uh... personality bleed? From this. You should start getting a bunch of my powers soon.] Taylor explains.
"Powers? Like... like Aura? Am I a Hunstmen now or...?" Oscar mutters to himself.
[Sure, if that's what you want to go with. I prefer Archmage. I liked 'Grand Wizard' for a bit but it turns out the racists kinda claimed that one so-] Taylor continues on blithely.
"Stop- just- what do you want?" Oscar finally asks, his shoulders tense with worry.
[Nothing. I'm dead, apparently. This is basically my retirement.] Is Taylor's snappy reply, leaving Oscar staring blankly at his own hands in a mix of confusion and dismay.
Over the next few months the pair grow slowly more attached to eachother. Taylor, being familiar with Oscar from his own Emulation of the boy, and Oscar, having never realized how lonely it was on the frontier until he had someone else to talk to. To be friends with. Of course, actual months don't pass. It's been a few hours, tops, in reality. But subjectively, the time spent watching Taylor get along with Oscar, in a beatific farmers life where nothing really goes wrong is... nice.
Too nice.
"This isn't how this goes." Ozma chides you in a disappointed but knowing tone.
"I know." You state blandly, hovering to the side of Oscar as he and Taylor awkwardly play chess against each other. You don't bother to turn towards him. Just watch the ongoing match with some amusement.
"Then you know it can't last forever." Ozma continues pointedly.
"...Yeah. I know." You answer in annoyance. You could have sustained this simulation like this for a lot longer if the annoying wizard wasn't around to prod you to progress the scenario. It was just... You knew that you were nearing your end. When you went to sleep tonight... 'you' probably wouldn't wake up. So seeing Taylor spending time with, if not 'you' then a version of you, is just...
You sigh, pulling yourself physically away from the ongoing game of chess to walk invisibly out of the building, and to the outskirts of the farm. Ozma follows you as you move, and without much fanfare, you make your way deeper into the surrounding forest, until you are just out of sight of the farmhouse.
And directly into a waiting wall of Grimm piled so high, it's a small wonder they haven't crushed each other under their mutual body weight. This had never happened in Ozma's world. But if Oscar had never left his farm to help fight, it probably would have, eventually. The Grimm here are completely still, as if frozen in time. If Oscar had been training, or doing anything to try and master Taylor's abilities, they would be easy prey for him.
But he hadn't. And now, it was too late. So, closing your eyes, you struggle against yourself briefly, before 'unpausing' the hideously massive wave of the beasts, allowing them to rush through your ghostly form and towards the property you had just left, likely to catastrophic results.
You didn't bother staying to watch what was left of the simulation. You didn't really want to. So you very carefully extricate yourself from it, making sure that you awaken with enough time to wipe away your own tears before Taylor awakens.
Friday, February 11th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
You noticed it several minutes ago but - Ozma is no longer present in the wheelhouse of your mind. That result should be obvious, given how strange running multiple instances of one mind would be, but still, there is a finality to that absence that you can't quite put your finger on. It leaves you feeling disturbed and out of sorts as your Master springs awake, stares at the ceiling for several seconds, and then frowns.
"Two things." She states blandly, not getting up.
"Yes?" You ask her curiously, having already since dressed yourself for the day and positioned yourself at the bedside for when your Master awoke.
"First, this is really weird," Taylor says, sitting up, her expression flickering slightly, no doubt in response to something Ozma is telling her.
"Second, I know we can't go there but what if we opened a portal and just, I don't know - nuked the Grimmlands? Like... from orbit?" Taylor says hopefully. You stare at her, your eyebrows rising up to your hairline and staying there before you break out laughing.
"You- you can't just- haha, hahahahaha!" You snort, then begin to laugh raucously at your Master's antics. Truly, you have the greatest of Masters.
"Hey! I'm being serious!" Taylor says with a pout, then rolls her eyes and gets up for the day.
"That's what makes it so funny!" You continue to cackle as she gets dressed.
Ten minutes later, you find yourself in the living room, where Fleur - Jess really - is awake and staring at the ceiling. This gives your Master pause. She's gotten used to Mouse Protector being around because the woman is so overly familiar that it's hard not to just accept her as a part of your life. Like a Parasite. Jess, lacks that distinction. More so, whatever she and Danny had gone through these last few days clearly had taken its toll on her, as she largely ignores Taylor when she walks into the room.
"...Fleur?" Taylor asks hesitantly, sidling in front of the woman so she can get her attention.
"Just Jess. Please." The woman responds in a pained tone, not removing her gaze from the singular point on the ceiling she had been staring at.
"Right. Jess, then. Can you tell me where you and Dad went?" Taylor asks straight away, eyeing the woman.
"No." She replies bluntly. Taylor stares flatly at her for a second, opens her mouth, closes it, then opens it again.
"You know, I don't really... like... threatening people... but... you sort of kidnapped my Dad and brought him back after getting him mauled by a bear," Taylor says finally, causing Jess to finally lower her gaze from the ceiling to stare stupidly at your Master.
"That... wasn't actually a threat though. I think you just threatened to threaten me, actually." She states, lifting a finger to point at Taylor for emphasis.
"I recently learned I can destroy a geographical area large enough to be visible on a map. I'm trying to be very careful with what kind of threats I throw around." Taylor answers with a shrug. This brings Jess up short, and her pointing finger droops slightly. Invisible as you are, you can't help but snicker. You love your Master, but you know for a fact that she would never actually cut loose like that on a populated area. In fact, the mere chance that some random traveller could be in the Grimmlands at the time of her 'orbital strike' was enough to dissuade her from making the attempt.
"Well. That was a threat, I guess..." Jess mutters, before clearing her throat.
"So... you know I... used to be dating Lightstar, right?" She prefaces carefully, her face pointedly neutral as she speaks.
"No?" Taylor answers instantly. She wasn't really much for tracking celebrity relationships, even before Emma had gone off the deep end.
"Oh. Well, Mike is Carol and Sarah's brother. We... I really loved him, you know?" Jess says with a slight shudder.
"What does that have to do with kidnapping my Dad?" Taylor asks, squinting at the older woman. You wouldn't say that Taylor doesn't care about Jess's wellbeing, so much as she cares more about her father.
"After I... died... Mike left the state. I don't have a license anymore. Or a car. Or money. And I just... I needed to see him." Jess explains emphatically, her arms rising as though to gesticulate for emphasis until a tired look crosses her face and she drops them.
"Okay. But-" Taylor begins again, obviously trying to get the woman to get to the point.
"Your Dad punched him in the face and we spent all day running from some Hero's who misunderstood the situation!" Jess blurts out, then flinches away from Taylor as if expecting to be attacked. Taylor, for her part, just stares at the blond woman, her brow furrowed.
"...Why not just phone me?" She asks instead of addressing anything else.
"No cellphone. We couldn't-" Jess starts to explain.
"Bullshit. Payphones still exist." Taylor counters immediately.
"We didn't want to worry you?" Jess tries again, causing Taylor's eyes to narrow into slits as she contemplates that.
"Why?" She eventually asks with a tired sigh.
"You just seemed so busy, and Danny, he really didn't want-"
"Not that. Why did Dad punch your Ex." Taylor clarifies in annoyance.
"Oh. Uh..." Jess says, blushing suddenly, then coughing to clear her throat and speaking again, "You'd have to ask him." she replies quietly. At this, Taylor lifts an eyebrow in question. Jess spends a moment looking about the room frantically, clearing seeking some distraction or escape, then brightens, her body going slack as her Shinigami form exits it. Carefully, she makes to step around Taylor to exit the room, only to be grabbed by the collar and thrown back at her body hard enough that it jolts slightly as she settles into it.
"You realize that even if that worked, I'd still have your body." Taylor notes.
"Has anyone ever told you that you Heberts can be sort of intense?" Jess says weakly.
"Yes. So?" Taylor answers shortly. Eventually, Jess sighs and readjusts her position on the couch to be more comfortable before speaking.
"Carol must have warned him I might be coming. He... sort of refused to see me. Danny got kind of mad about it, so he looked up Mike's address and pretended to be a delivery guy." She finally explains nervously.
"...So Dad basically hunted down a Cape at home and punched him in the head. No wonder you got chased out of town. Do we need a lawyer?" Taylor asks, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"I hope not. I did manage to force a balaclava over your Dad's head while we were running away." Jess answers with a grimace, then hardens her expression, turning to look at Taylor like a woman on death row.
"Taylor I'm so... so... sorry." She says, tears forming in her eyes.
"I- I think your Dad triggered." She whispers.
You can actually feel the annoyed exasperation coming off of your Master as the older woman begins bawling.
Friday, February 11th, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
Your Master spends the rest of the day a mix of annoyed, concerned, and amused. On the one hand, Danny now has a reasonable excuse to have powers - although you think any of the dozen traumatic events in this last month would serve equally well as 'false' trigger events. On the other, Danny apparently spent a day leading another cities hero's on a wild goose chase because he couldn't control his temper.
You can understand intrinsically why the situation annoyed the man. From Danny's point of view, if his wife had come back to life he would drop everything to go to her. Loyalty is clearly a key aspect of his personality, and the idea of a loved one reaching out to you after apparently dying and then ignoring them must have struck a chord with him.
Regardless, compounding your Master's worries, you still have no idea where Mouse Protector is. Hence, you have found yourself talking to the only other person in the city who actually knows the woman. To your knowledge anyway.
"I haven't spoken to her in a few days but that's... not entirely un-common for her." Miss Militia says cautiously, sitting across from you in the - intentionally small - office in your castle set aside for your PRT liaison.
"In a city as wild as Brockton is right now? Seriously?" Taylor asks incredulously.
"Well... no. But Mouse has always been..." Miss Militia says, frowning, then trailing off as though trying to find the right word to use.
"Irresponsible?" Taylor supplies dryly.
"...Yes. That." Miss Milita returns with a wince.
"So what your saying is, she might be fine, but she also... might not." Taylor says bluntly. Miss Milita frowns at this but doesn't deny the point.
"Well do you know anything about where she was last?" Taylor asks exapseratedly. On the one hand, you've already gathered that most of the Protectorate find Mouse Protector supremely annoying, and in general, try to avoid her as best they can. But even still, you can't imagine what kind of reputation Mouse must have cultivated that even some of her oldest friends would be largely unconcerned when she goes missing.
"I think she was following a lead on Ravager hiding out in an Endbringer shelter." Militia says, quickly withdrawing her phone to search for an address and showing it to your Master.
"We sent people to look at it when she asked us about it, but there wasn't any sign of forced entry. She might have gone to look for herself." She continues, turning a worried look on Taylor.
"Thanks. I'll check it out." Taylor says absently, quickly standing to go.
"Ah, Taylor?" Miss Militia asks before she can leave. "I was wondering if your Father had returned yet. I'll be rotating out with someone else this weekend, and I have some paperwork for him." She states demurely.
Taylor turns a dubious look on the woman, but answers regardless.
"He got in yesterday. He might be in his office right now honestly. I didn't see him in the house this morning when I got up so he probably came in like normal. Did you check?" Taylor asks.
"This morning, yes. I'll check again." Militia says, just a bit too quickly, standing up herself.
You and your Master watch her go before shrugging at eachother and continuing onward.
Friday, February 10th, 2011
Uptown Endbringer Shelter, Brockton Bay
Endbringer shelters are the sort of things that are almost ubiquitous in most cities. Everyone knows where they are. Everyone knows what they're for. And no one, no one, tampers with them. The citizens of Brockton Bay tolerated Nazi's for years, but if they caught wind of some villain damaging one of the shelters that they might find themselves in during an Endbringer attack, your fairly certain they would form a mob and lynch the offender.
So no one screwed with Endbringer shelters.
This is probably why your Master, upon arriving to the huge metal hatch that is supposed to hold the giant engines of destruction at bay, only to find it half torn out of the wall, begins to panic.
"Shit!" She blurts out, immediately drawing her sword and dashing into darkened tunnel beyond.
'Backup.' You remind her, causing her to slow down just enough that she can pull her phone from a pocket and dial the PRT.
"Hello?! This is Nexus - I'm in an Endbringer shelter that looks like someone ran the whole thing through a wood chipper! I have reason to believe Mouse Protector might be present!" She yells into the thing the second it connects, then rapidly rattles off the details of the address, throwing the phone back in her pocket and speeding forward.
Endbringer Shelters are build in a very particular way. The tunnels leading into them are intentionally sized wider than is neccessary, because in the event that a Shelter is being actively used, everyone present is likely to be panicking, and no one wanted to see innoccent people trampled in fear. More so than that, the tunnels themselves always lead to a fairly sizeable 'waiting' area further in, that was both heavily reinforced, and typically stocked with emergency rations, in the event that those using it might be trapped for a few days. The walls of the shelters were almost invariably built using the latest in material sciences. It was never just concrete. People didn't pay for concrete walls against Endbringers. No, there was always some new Tinker derived something or other going into the construction of one of these shelters. Which, of course, made the extensive damage to the no doubt super durable walls, extremely disconcerting to you.
This was a concern that grew greater the further you went, until eventually you emerged into the waiting area, which looked as though a hurricane had hit it. All the equipment, everything vaguely resembling seating, and basically anything else that wasn't explicitly nailed down were strewn about the room, often in small, smashed pieces. Ugly brown stains were spread across the floor, as though a massive object had been dragged through a pool of blood, and one of the other entrances to the shelter had clearly been damaged by said large object trying to fit it's bulk into the corridor outside of it.
And there was absolutely no sign of Mouse Protector.
"I swear when I find that woman, if she makes a cheese pun, I'll kill her." Taylor curses dourly, staying on guard but otherwise waiting for the PRT to arrive.
"I'll have to make something to track her. Do you think she left any hair in the guest room?" Taylor asks you as she waits.
'Probably. This isn't right though. What could possibly have been down here? And how could it have gotten here without anyone noticing it?' You ask in confusion. The door to most Endbringer Shelters was closer in nature to a bank vault than a door. The fact that the thing had been half crumpled meant that whatever was in here hadn't been gentle or quiet.
Unless it was a Stranger but well... you'd cross that bridge when you came to it.
Taylor, for her part, doesn't answer you, likely because she agrees with you, and doesn't really know what to do about it.
Eventually, Velocity arrives, and Taylor - not otherwise needed for the investigation, leaves.
Friday, February 10th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
It's only later that night, that reality really sets in for you, and you find yourself staring at the clock.
Taylor has been up this entire time trying to engineer a form of her tracking spell that is more accurate than 'within a few blocks' with only limited success, and neither Jess, nor Danny are current home.
During all this, you... just sort of exist. You wouldn't say you were bored, but neither would you say you were very high tension either. You just... were. And, as the clock continues to tick upward, with only a handful of minutes until midnight, you realize, you'd like to continue to exist. You don't want to change anymore. Your Master doesn't really need more powers. Maybe if you were very careful you could edit your activation, or send a request to the Warrior or Thinker hubs to be fixed or-
"Emmy? Are you... okay?" Taylor asks suddenly, looking up from the kitchen table to frown at you, no doubt sensing your growing panic.
"No." You choke out, as you begin to tear up. Alarmed, Taylor gets up and rounds the table towards you, pulling you into a hug.
"What's wrong? Is it Mouse Protector? We'll find her okay? I can bring back the dead so even if we can't-" Taylor begins, rubbing your back like a mother, or older sister might. Both things this emulation didn't even have, and yet desperately yearned for.
"N-no. I just- I really like- this. I really like me. I- I know I'm useless. I'm slow. I'm weak. You don't- you don't really need me- like this." You burble out between sobs, unable to take your eyes away from the clock on the wall.
"I'll always need you," Taylor says in a matter of fact tone, her own voice cracking slightly as she hugs you tighter.
"You'll always have 'me'" You say misleadingly, not wanting your Master to feel sad, and simultaneously, desperately wanting to beg her to do something, anything to stop the minute hand on the clock from jumping forward again. Fretfully, you withdraw Long Memory, placing it on the table before you, one hand clenched around it in a white knuckled grip while the other wraps around your Master to squeeze her back.
"So there's no problem then. Come on, let's go to bed." Taylor urges you, trying to pull you to your feet. You don't budge. You're still staring at the clock. One second. Two. Three. Four.
"I love you Master. And I - I -" You splutter, gripping your Master so tightly that if she were not a brute she would have a broken spine.
Fifty six, fifty seven-
"I don't want to go!" You blurt out, just as the clock strikes midnight. The single unit of energy that would usually drain at this point, you refuse to waste it. You refuse to go quietly. So even as your physical being begins to unravel into streams of data and light - you shove it outward, solidifying Long Memory in a way that you really shouldn't be able to do normally.
It's the last thing you do before 'You' are no more, and another 'You' pulses forth, to take its place.
IMPORTANT NOTE - PLEASE READ -
Alright! So! It's my Birthday (That I somehow forgot until recently today), and we are once again upon the path of a rerolling! To celebrate this really freaking cool piece of art by Phearo for the quest, this coming roll will have six character choices instead of the stander three from Omake.
This is the roll you want to spend on the absurd. On settings with more characters than sense. On 'that one thing with really low chances of working out'. Go wild. Go crazy. Have fun with it.
Like all other new Emulation choices - this first vote is entirely a write-in. Write in as many settings as you want. The top three will go on to be voted on a second time, to decide which setting we'll be using. Some simple rules. I'm going to sleep right after posting this - so expect me to close the preliminary vote in roughly five hours. This first vote won't have a moratorium. The next one will. I know these can get heated, but be nice, don't be rude to each other, and don't start a fandom war or some shit.
Also, did you guys know we have a Discord? You can find it in the informational, and I generally find it easier to access that while Im at work than the forum. Just thought I'd remind everyone.
So, what's next?
[ ] Write-In
Last edited: Nov 15, 2020
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Bowler Hat Guy
Oct 1, 2020
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Threadmarks Succession 9.8
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Bowler Hat Guy
Bowler Hat Guy
A Hat & Its Man
Oct 4, 2020
#22,946
Current Energy: 20
Current Training: None
Spoiler: Current Emulation Status:
Saturday, February 12th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
You aren't sure how long it takes you to reconfigure. First and foremost, because the thing you managed to scan makes absolutely no sense. How does one contain a sun inside a sword? No, worse, how does one wield a sword that is a sun. It makes no sense. There is no possible way to do it without a significant number of dimensional shenanigans at work. And yet, there is absolutely none of that in play as far as you can tell. This thing, Gram, is a sword, but it is also a sun. It simply is. And because it is, you find yourself locked up just trying to figure it out. The part of your consciousness that is pseudo human begins to panic as it realizes that your Shard-Self is performing the Entity equivalent of a blue screen, or a logic loop, and you are just about to do something drastic in order to resolve the issue when suddenly, it all stops.
And not by your own will either. Something - you aren't sure what - steps into the equation, and begins to funnel the correct information to your Shard. More so than that, whatever is doing so seems to be distinctly computer like in nature. Not so much a singular being as a system designed for storing creatures such as your current target of emulation. A system that has triggered upon your unintentional query for data. Curiously, you try to ping this server for more data, for more options, and are sharply rebuked, leaving you to sullenly wait for the process to finish.
Thus, despite not knowing how much time has actually passed, you blink into existence and full consciousness in the center of your Master's bedroom.
You also, as you have long since come to expect from unexpectedly appearing in your Master's bedroom unasked, have a sword about an inch from your left eye.
"Reporting. Servant Emmy has returned to you, Master." You declare in a serious, no-nonsense tone. Taylor, having apparently changed into her sleepwear at some point, squints at you in the dark, her hair a frizzy mess as she half kneels on her bed with her sword still pointed at you.
"...Male, tall, greying hair, laser sword. Tinker?" Taylor asks suddenly, withdrawing her weapon and leaning away from you with an appraising look.
"Gram is not a 'Laser Sword'. And this one is not a 'Tinker'." You explain neutrally, clasping your hands behind your back in a sort of parade rest.
"Huh, I-" She begins to say her posture slowly relaxing as she reacquaints herself with you, only for a smaller, more childlike version of her to appear infront of you, hanging off your neck.
"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" She yells repeatedly, her little legs kicking harmlessly at your chest. Still, you wince at the admonishment from the sword spirit. You can still remember 'Your' last moments in this world. You simply don't have the same feelings towards them as you once did. But you do know how they affected your Master.
"Apologies. This one will endeavour to... continue... as long as possible." You state awkwardly, your hands coming out from behind your back to carefully envelop the sword spirit in a hug and shooting your Master a glance over her head.
"You do that." She answers with only a mild amount of pique in her voice, turning her head fractionally away from you as she speaks.
"Master. Permission to sleep now." You request curtly after a few seconds of silence pass. Nemesis has long since stopped kicking you and has begun crawling across your upper torso, batting at Gram where it hangs across your back and then retreating like a cat encountering a vacuum cleaner for the first time.
"You don't really have to ask for permission." She responds instantly, rolling her eyes and pulling back her covers in order to crawl into bed.
"Acknowledged." You answer, allowing your armour to vanish, which causes Nemesis to flail slightly before falling to the ground without anything to grasp onto.
You spend the rest of that night with the sword spirit laying between you and your Master, prodding and badgering your to shift about whenever she grows bored or uncomfortable.
You have no idea why she doesn't just dematerialize like she usually does, but you don't bother asking. Instead, you eventually begin to ignore her, and drift into peaceful sleep.
You wake up in the early morning to the eerie stillness of your Master, who has, at some point during the night, rolled over to hug you. Because Nemesis is still present this has the unintended effect of causing you to awaken with both girls squished tight against your chest.
Languidly you open your eyes and glance down, curious at what is causing your Master such distress. Carefully, you angle your head downwards to observe your Master, only to find both her and Nemesis staring up at you. Nemesis with her eyes narrowed into slits with a smug smile on her face, and Taylor, almost the exact opposite, with her mouth hanging partially open, her cheeks flushed a bright red, and her eyes as wide as saucers.
"Good morning." You state blandly, blinking once but otherwise remaining still.
"I like this one. Let's keep him." Nemesis says pleasantly burying her face in your chest, even as your Master goes cross eyed and boots backwards, falling out of the bed as though stung.
"N-n-new rule. You sleep on the couch!" She blurts out pointing at you accusatorily.
"Jess currently sleeps upon the couch." You point out, sitting up and ignoring the pout from Nemesis as she is dislodged from you.
"The floor then!" Taylor continues, thrusting her finger towards you for emphasis.
"Acknowledged. I will seek out an extra blanket while you dress." You say readily, quickly exiting the bed.
"Boo! Don't listen to her! She doesn't know what she wants!" Nemesis yells from the bed angrily.
"Master is Master. This one has no reason to refute her on this." You explain kindly, before nodding to Taylor - who is still red faced and quivering - and becoming incorporeal, vanishing through the floor to land in the living room.
"Good morning, Jess." You greet the blond woman on the couch as she bolts upright to stare at you, then relaxes.
"Oh. Still dreaming. Come 'ere." She bumbles, gesturing you towards her. Curiously, you oblige, stepping forward and bending down to examine her.
Then your hand comes up at a blistering speed to block her own, which was just about to reach behind your head for something - probably an attempt.to steal Gram, foolish as that would be. Jess immediately stiffens at the contact her eyes going wide.
"Apologies. Touching my weapon would be... unwise." You explain, releasing her and carefully taking a step back to make space between you.
"You- this isn't a dream, huh?" Jess says in a daze, her tone slightly panicky.
"You are, indeed, conscious." You note idly as your Master comes down the stairs, dressed for the day.
"Taylor? Who-" Jess asks quickly as Taylor comes into view.
"Emmy." She replies neutrally, even as Nemesis reappears on your back, hanging from your neck. You are - briefly - concerned with her proximity to your - very cursed - sword, but quickly relax as it occurs to you that your Masters sentient sword is unlikely to want to steal your weapon. You aren't even particularly concerned with it being stolen. Merely with the curse it bears being afflicted on anyone who so much as tries to use it.
"Why is he-" Jess pauses to eye you before turning back to Taylor with a hopeless gesture in your direction.
"The multiverse is infinite. Somewhere out there, there are even sentient vending machines. It only stands to reason that eventually he'd be..." Taylor makes the same gesture towards you as Jess.
"Query. What does this-" you mimic the gesture, "-mean?" You ask.
Taylor and Jess pause to look at each other then succinctly shrug in unison.
"...Master?" You ask again.
"They're complaining cus you're-" Nemesis begins to speak, blithely ignoring the expression that flashes across Taylor's face as she does so.
"-All over the place! Stylistically!" She hurts out, her sword appearing in her hand and Nemesis vanishing from your back.
You glance down at yourself then back up again.
"This armor was perfectly appropriate for this one in life though?" You point out, politely choosing not to mention your Master's own disparate collection of aesthetic traits, from across your many emulations.
"G-good point. What is this guys deal?" She asks, abruptly changing the subject even as Jess stealthily rises to leave the room, glancing at you constantly until you are out of sight.
Now this, you can answer. Tilting your head back, you allow the light to shimmer across your glasses, creating an obscuring play of light across the lenses as you speak.
"This one stands before you as Sigurd, the Saber class servant! I am a master of combat in all it's forms! With me by your side-" you begin to declare proudly, happy to be able to show your Master all of your merits.
"Sigurd, like... from the vol... vol... I can't remember the name but- the guy who killed the dragon and bathed in it's blood?" Taylor cuts in curiously.
"...not to be mistaken for Siegfried but... yes." You answer.
"So, Brute with a sword again?" She asks, indulging in her time honored tradition of boiling your new emulation down to the simplest of explanations.
"...yes." You answer stoically.
"Huh. Wanna try to stab each other to death? Just for a bit?" She asks, eyes suddenly shining with expectation. A chill runs down your spine at the sight of it. Your emulation has had more than his fair share of encounters with another woman who displays affection via violence.
It is possible that you've taught your Master some bad habits. You'll have to rectify that. Later. For now...
"I believe the search for Mouse Protector takes precedence." You refuse firmly. Taylor's face immediately sinks at the reminder.
"Right. Let me grab breakfast then we can figure out a plan." She states resolutely.
Mouse Protector is missing. That'll probably take up most of your day. Choose two (2) actions to perform.
[ ] Begin Training (Choose a Skill or Power)
[ ] Patrol/Scout while your team prepares. (Choose a group: Travellers, Undersiders, Accord, Coil.)
(Choose two people to come with you: Victoria, Any Ward, Aspirant, Trainwreck, Miss Militia)
[ ] Have Taylor take some time out to fortify the Heap with Onmyoudo.
[ ] Some of the Teeth got away. Spree, Hemorrhagia, Reaver. Aspirant seems pretty worked up about it.
[ ] Take Time Off (Pick an Extra Social)
[ ] Write-In
Choose a Social;
[ ] Victoria *
[ ] Amy *
[ ] Aspirant *
[ ] Trainwreck *
[ ] Parian *
[ ] Danny *
[ ] Oliver
[ ] Jess *
Last edited: Nov 15, 2020
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Bowler Hat Guy
Oct 4, 2020
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Threadmarks Succession 9.9
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Bowler Hat Guy
Bowler Hat Guy
A Hat & Its Man
Oct 6, 2020
#23,332
[X] Have Taylor take some time out to fortify the Heap with Onmyoudo.
[X] Begin Training (Dragon Kind Modification EX )
[X] Oliver
Spoiler: Current Emulation Status:
Spoiler: Base Status
Current Energy: 20
Current Training: Dragon Kind Modification EX (5/10) This omake bonus in thanks to - Fenix987654321
Saturday, February 12th, 2011
Hebert Household, Brockton Bay
"What are you doing?!" Taylor asks you in panic as you withdraw one of your throwing knives (broken shards of Gram, to be specific), and stab it through your right hand. You blink and look up at her, her spoon full of cereal having been dropped to the table as she rushed towards you. Then you glance back down at your now bleeding hand. Knowing you have a limited amount of time before the hole closes and you have to repeat the action, you temporarily ignore her question to withdraw a glass from a nearby cupboard.
Then you turn to sit at the table with your cut open palm hovering over the mouth of the glass.
"Training." You state by way of explanation.
"Oh. Huh." Taylor answers, instantly calming down and returning to her seat to clean up the mess she made.
"So..." She asks carefully, eyeing your bleeding hand as the glass beneath it slow fills to about a quarter full and then stops, as your bleeding begins to slow. "What exactly...?" She trails off.
"How much do you know of this ones legend?" You ask, lifting your hand away from the glass and shaking it slightly. You don't really have 'fast healing' as it were. You just have an enhanced ability to function while suffering injury, coupled with a slightly faster healing speed. You'll be fine by tomorrow, but for the moment, the injury won't hinder you much.
"You killed a Dragon and got its powers?" She offers after a moment of thought.
"Yes. This one defeated Fafnir in single combat. Then this one ate his heart." You explain, putting emphasis on the last words before continuing, ignoring Taylor's wince of disgust.
"As this one does not wish to experience having my heart removed and eaten in front of me - something I could, in fact, survive, we must proceed slowly." You finish, grabbing the glass and gently sliding it across the table to your Master, who blinks owlishly at you before looking down at it and blanching slightly.
"No. Ew. Ew ew ew. Can we skip this one?" She asks desperately, leaning away from the thing as though it might bite her.
"Assertion. No. You're current physicality is worrying to this one. You are vulnerable in a way that I cannot always foresee and defend against. Please." You state, tilting your head to peer into your Master's eyes over the rim of your glasses. There is a pregnant pause wherein your Master's gaze shift between you and the glass a few times, until she eventually sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.
"Ugh. This sucks. You suck. I hate this. Go grab me some orange juice." She complains, reaching out to gingerly take the glass in hand.
"It will taste worse if you allow it to dry." You advise, before rising to poor a glass of orange juice to place next to her. Taylor sends you a dirty look but quickly relents, turning back to the glass of your blood.
"Training. This is training. Training to-" She pauses with the glass halfway to her lips.
"What is this going to achieve?" She asks suddenly.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes and preempt her by putting a finger beneath the glass and lifting it slightly. Taylor splutters somewhat as the viscous fluid begins to flow and then coughs and splutters at you when she is finished, turning to glare at you as she coughs and wretches.
"Being a dragon." You answer her smugly.
Despite how good of an explanation you consider that to be, it fails to protect you from the combined assault of both Taylor and Nemesis as they begin to chase you. Taylor to punish you. Nemesis... seemingly just for fun.
Saturday, February 12th, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
Your Master, blessedly, gave up on trying to destroy you shortly after you remembered that you can, in fact, become intangible.
"Query. What are our goals for the day?" You ask your Master curiously as she begins to fiddle with the interface for the Wardstone, arcane script and energies emanating from the thing like the heat haze from a volcanic stone.
"We're going to see if we can rig the Friend or Foe Wards to ping Mouse Protector specifically. Maybe do some more work while we're at it." She answers you patiently, now too absorbed in her work to maintain her annoyance with you. "Go grab Oliver and Wreck for me while I work would you?" She adds, her hands whipping out to begin fiddling with the enchantments on the castle as though they have a mind of their own.
What upgrades does Taylor apply to the Heap today?
[ ] Simple Energy Barrier (A physical barrier, preventing attacks from reaching the walls of the building)
[ ] Expansion (The grounds surrounding the building swell in size, creating several lots worth of free space.)
[ ] Simple Shikigami Network (A network of small animals that can be set to keep an eye out for specific behaviours, objects, or people within a two block radius of the building. These creatures are simple minded, and hold no initiative or creativity. They just report what they see, ignoring things they weren't told to look for.)
"Acknowledged." You answer, stepping away from your Master and walking through the wall and out into the hallway. The Heap, as always, is huge. The only reason you are easily able to locate anything in it at any given moment in time is that almost everything of significance is on the ground floor. Still, the building is much more lively now, with Dockworkers running too and fro setting up wiring and other things throughout the building in preparation of it's upcoming conversion into something of an entertainment center. You even find yourself ducking around them as they move about, despite your invisibility.
Eventually however, you find your way to the garage, where Trainwreck and Oliver are currently arguing over... something.
"And I'm fucking telling you, it's easier to just staple a normal fucking gun to an axe than it is to try and make a variable fucking pilebunker you fucking nerd." Trainwreck asserts, throwing his hands into the air in exasperation.
"But- it's a pilebunker. Why wouldn't I want a pilebunker. Come on! I cut ties! I got shot! I- I haven't even asked Taylor out! Not once!" He yells back in complaint. You lift an eyebrow at that but remain invisible to watch the goings on.
"You haven't asked the boss out because you've got no balls, and she ain't got the time. You've known her for what.. two weeks? Fuck off." Trainwreck scoffs.
"We're teenagers! It isn't like I'm asking to get married!" Oliver complains, blushing.
"And you never will if you gotta fucking overcompensate with a stupid piece of shit pilebunker that's somehow also a gun!" Trainwreck yells back, turning to point at the blond.
"It's my weapon! You already said you can do it! Why are you being such a dick today?" Oliver complains.
"It offends my sensibilities kid! The fuck kind of weapon is a pilebunker!?" He yells back.
"What if it shot rail spikes. Train shit is your 'aesthetic' right?" Oliver counters immediately, causing Trainwreck to pause in his yelling and take on a contemplative expression.
"...Yeah okay, I can do that." He begrudgingly admits.
"Gentlemen." You greet, choosing this moment to appear between the two of them as they share manly looks of acknowledgement with each other. Or something.
"Jesus fucking christ!" Trainwreck yelps, barely thinking before swinging a metal fist at you that you catch with one hand, leaning into the blow to prevent it from pushing you back.
"Trainwreck. This one is pleased to greet you in my new form." You nod to the man, pointedly ignoring Oliver for a second.
"...Emmy?" Trainwreck asks curiously, slowly retracting his arm.
"Yes." You acknowledge, withdrawing your own arm.
"Uh- how... how long were you-" Oliver begins to ask but is cut off by Trainwreck.
"Single?" He shoots.
"Married." You answer somewhat sadly.
"Women's right?" He continues.
"Inviolate." You reply, quirking your head as you try to determine where this line of questioning is going.
"Kill count?" Trainwreck continues, nodding along as he speaks.
"...High." You reply taciturnly.
"Hah! Knew it! You're some kind of badass mass murderer this time huh? The pattern holds!" Trainwreck cackles, snapping his fingers with a metallic clink. You frown at that. It's true that you have fought in wars, and are a hero of old who has participated in more than his fair share of combat, but you aren't a 'mass murderer'. That implies a degree of maliciousness and self satisfaction behind your actions that simply wasn't present. It only seems that way because the heroes of old held very different standards to this new generation of spandex wearing-
"No seriously how long were-" Oliver tries again nervously.
"Long enough." You state flatly.
"Okay, hear me out. Don't tell Taylor anything you just heard and I'll-" He tries to beg, only for you to cut him off with a neutral looking smile on your face.
"Master requests your presence in the Ward room." You state, gesturing to both men and then vanishing.
You try not to smirk as the blond boy pales.
"What the hell is a pilebunker?" Taylor asks as Oliver cautiously lays out what he wants by way of a weapon.
"Some lame giant robot shit." Trainwreck opines, earning a scowl from Oliver.
"I- Look it's for hard targets right? If you want me for ranged support, then any time I get into melee, I'm probably screwed anyway, and this-" He says jabbing a finger at the childish rendition of what he wants on the round table "- is basically the biggest most immediately lethal thing I can think of!" He finishes with a nervous smile.
Taylor examines him for a moment before looking down at the weapon and back up again.
"Okay. What about a costume? Armor?" She says, turning to Trainwreck curiously.
"Was waiting for you on that one boss. Figured we could do something cheeky with some of that magic shit." He says with a shrug.
"I had some ideas for that too!" Oliver blurts out, obviously having expected more ridicule and less support, then begins to sketch something else out on the table.
Oliver's ideas basically boil down to one of two options;
[ ] A suit of light armor enchanted by Taylor to function as power armor.
[ ] A suit of powered armor from Trainwreck utilizing Taylor's portals to function.
[ ] Write In (Taylors suggestion)
Once things have settled down, the group moves from the Ward room to the Garage, where they spend the better part of the rest of the evening getting Oliver's equipment ready. They don't finish it - there's no way that much work could be done in just a single day - but Taylor deems it necessary for him to be prepared, trusting in her modifications to the Heap to assist in her location of Mouse Protector. There is, unfortunately, not much else she can do.
It is getting late into the evening, when something finally disturbs the group of bickering craftsmen. You only even notice it because you aren't actively participating in the exercise. A small gap opens in one corner of the garage, and disgorges a small body onto the ground.
"Master." You quickly warn in alarm, rushing forward to examine the situation even as Taylor and the rest of the team look up in response to your call.
"The fuck?" Trainwreck yelps, as you kneel next to the body, appearing and checking her for signs of life. Several things immediately jump out at you. One, it's throat has been slit, though by what, you can immediately tell. And two, this corpse is quite naked. You try not to think about what that implies. Mostly, because you recognize this person. Not in this emulation, but in your last you encountered her. It's where she got the tag that transported her body here, in fact.
Dinah Alcott is dead, and you can't for the life of you figure out how or why.
Frowning, you tilt your head down fractionally to examine the corpse, even as Taylor slides to a stop next to you, hands already aglow with golden light.
Through the lenses of your glasses, information bursts forth.
L̷͉̩̝̲͎͛͑̂͜ą̶͔͖̱̯͎̍͆̽̇͝c̸̦̙̒͝ͅͅk̸̪̺͈͉̒̈́̋̀̈́ ̴͉͓͜͝o̷̟̯̠͇͌̋͜f̸̨̻̻̰̀̕ ̸̥̎̓̇̈̾͜p̴̰͚͓͓͛̽̆̾h̵̲̀̇̋̄͠ÿ̴̬͓͇́͋͝s̶̟̼͔͂i̷͉̼̤̳̗̎̔̅ć̶̡̨̯͆̌̌̍͝ä̵̧͇̩̬͇́͗l̸̤̝͆͂̏̂̋ ̷͓̩̠̩̈͊̾́̔͐s̸͈̀̋̇̆̈̆i̸̝̯̜̻̽ǵ̷͎̣͛́͂n̷̠̥̲̆̔̎̅͐̕s̸̖̣̼̃̄͛̿͗̕ ̸̩̖̐̏̃̓̒̕o̵̻͔̝͓̻̬̊̐̀̓f̷̡̦̤͕̿ ̵̭̖̪̤̍̊̇ͅe̷̳̠̾̃̔x̷̰̺̟͑h̶̫͎̒a̸̖͎͒ů̷̢͔͉ͅs̴̥̭̪̲͔̠̏͊t̸̪̝̹̻̰͂̓͝͠͝ͅį̷̢͈̋̿͐̈̂̌ǫ̵̢͈̘̤̌n̶̹͎͑ ̴̫͈̊̀̂ǫ̵̻̲̔̓̒̽r̷̙̠͕̤͇̎̀͒̓͜ ̷̜̇̑̓́̕s̷͈̦̦̹̅͒̍ͅṯ̴̠͖̄̾̽̓̌̌r̴̡͙̞̼͗͝u̸̥̘̲̤͑ǵ̸̯̝͘g̷̲̓̂͠l̴̡̰̮̃e̵͛̓̽̆͜.̷͈͆͗̄̎̔͝ ̶̴̧̢̣̲̻͎́͌́͝S̴k̴i̶n̵ ̴a̸p̸p̸e̷a̵r̷s̸ ̴t̸o̸ ̶h̸a̶v̵e̷ ̶n̶e̶v̵e̶r̶ ̵s̸e̵e̷n̷ ̶t̴h̶e̸ ̸s̶u̸n̴.̴ ̸̶̆̍͜H̸̜̄e̴͈͂̓̈́a̵̳̟̥͘ḻ̸͇͂̕t̷̻͎̹̐͝h̶͕̋ý̶̨̗̠ ̸̢̲́ą̸͝p̵̝̪̎p̷̉͜ē̶̙͔͂a̶̗̞͛̍̍r̵̫̈́͜ä̵͖̞́̂n̸̮̹̲̔̚c̸̞̄e̷̳̓́͊,̴̬̼̍ ̴͕̟̦̔̈ḏ̴̨̗́̀̒ĭ̸̚͜s̵̪̠̦̍́̊t̸͍̼͐̓̾į̷̹̞̈n̸͙̟̽̄͌c̷͙͖̭̓t̴͔͘̕ ̴̡̨̔̅̋ḻ̵̪͌̒̾a̶̦̐c̸̜͆t̷̳̰̅ͅ ̸͕͛̾͛ő̷̑ͅf̷͕̺͕̃͊̂ ̵̳̼̼̏̍w̴͚͕̯̾̓͘e̶͔̊̾͠a̴̰͆̏t̵͙̀̅h̴̨̡͉̉ḙ̶̩͑͝͠ṟ̷͍̀͂̇i̷̜̮͒̓n̵̞̗̤͗ǧ̴̡̖͇̉͊.̷̰̖̓͗ ̸̷̝̺̱͔̼̐̑̀E̴̢̒͠ͅx̷̭͑̎ṯ̴̠̯̔̊͑r̴̟̠̓͜ḛ̷͛͌͠ͅm̴̛͙̰̓e̵̯͘l̶̙̺͔͘y̶̨̒̋͜ ̵̳̇̚̕p̴̞͇͊̈́à̸̤m̷͇̜̫̔p̴̤̋ȅ̸̱̠ŗ̶̢͓̌͛ẻ̶̞̻̜̈́ď̷̓̋͜.̸̱̌́ ̷̸̣͓̤̯̰͂͋̒̚
̷̺̥̐̅͠U̶̘̅̀̆n̷̫̾͆̌l̷̩͔͎̄̈͝i̸̧̪̎k̸̻̱̰̊e̵̝͙̽̉́l̷̫̒̊̎y̵̛̳̍ ̵͎͔̈́̿̋t̷̹̓͐̇ọ̵̺̅ ̸̜̈́͒ḩ̴̡̂̎͝ͅa̵̹͖̽v̸͉͕͌͆̊ḙ̵̚ ̴̛͈̦̝̉e̶̮͚̋v̵͙̲̍ë̷̗͑͠r̷̝̈́ ̵̻̗͇͑̀ļ̶̗̙̓̈́̚ḛ̸̽f̴̛̖̓̽t̵͎͠ ̸̗̃͝p̴̛̞ļ̴̉ḁ̵̞̆ͅc̵̛̳̺̞̾͂ê̸̜̗̳ ̸̜̪̀o̴̼͔͑̔̔f̷̖͊́ͅ ̷̱̈́̍̀b̶̨̖̮͗̈́̀ḯ̸̡͖͗̆r̵͎͕̂t̶͖̂̉͊h̸͉̤̉͜.̸͖͖̆ ̷̴͍͌̿͑E̶x̶p̴r̶e̴s̴s̷i̷o̶n̶ ̵m̷i̶l̶d̸ ̵a̷n̶n̶o̵y̶a̴n̷c̴e̴.̴ ̵̴͈̭̆͌̀͝Ű̸̻͑̉̕̕͘ǹ̷̙̱̠͔̠͜s̷̠̏͠u̴̦̘̟̼͍̫͛͘̕͘ŗ̴̖̻̿͗̊̈́̽p̶̢̩͖͋̏͂͐͝r̵̖̞̣̰͔̣͗̈̓̋̑̋i̷̺̹̳̱̫͑͒̉͆͑͋s̵̬̱̃̽e̶͂ͅd̸̢̩̬̀̈́͋̓ ̴̡̛̝͙͆b̸͇̥͈̒̾̆y̵̛̲̟̙͑ ̴̛̪̭͇̗͆̈́̋̒̿d̵̢̙̙̯͎̈̾̈́̽̊͜è̸̦̓̎̈á̸͂̒̄͜t̷̰͙̋h̷͎̭̦̖̻̄̎.̴͖͕̩̠̟͂͋͊̓̋͑͜ ̸̸̧̰̗̭̘̤̣̫̋̋̅͌̌͜U̴̦̗̺̪͔̲̯͖̖͓̔̀̓n̴̬͈̘̬̞̣͓̔̉̊̀̊̅̑͠b̴̳̦̦̅̊̀̉͘ö̵̰̼̞͍t̵̛͈̅͊̉̄͂̈́͘͝h̷̢͚̰͚͎̮̫͊̀̌͊̑́͒̊̄̕e̴̼̩͋̈́̇̅̃r̶͎̅̒́̓̆́̎̎͘è̴̢̢̨̫̼̾̀͂ď̶̨̢̩̩̘̠̬̺ͅ ̸̧̧̟̟͐̉͊̔̽̆͗͐͆͝b̵̻̠͛͒ỹ̷̻͈͈̠͍͈̪̙̏̊̓̊͌͑̓͜͝͝ ̷̧̛͔̗̈́̎̽̋̓͋̚͝d̸͎̘̤̩̟̞̐̉͊͛͋͒̈́͗̔͗è̵̮̲̹͈̰̟̹̣͊͝͝a̸͚̰̅̃̒̐͆t̵͚͎̭̞̭͗̏̀̆̍̎̎͑̎͠h̶̨̘̟̪̙͉̟͆.̴̘͇̮̥̖̮̟̩̹̄̑̿̊͘̕ ̵̵̧̦̱̱̻̞̐̀̈́͋̈̒̑̚U̸n̷a̴b̸l̷e̶ ̷t̴o̵ ̶a̵c̸t̵i̶v̴a̶t̴e̶ ̴t̷a̴l̶i̶s̴m̵a̶n̵ ̷w̵h̶i̵l̸e̵ ̷d̶e̴a̶d̸.̸ ̵̸̢͓̟̲̯͕̤̬͕̻̖̣̙͛͆̍͛͗̇L̷̡̯͕̠̱̮̯͋̉̓̀͑̍́̕ȩ̵̧͉̼͉̘̭͔̔f̴̦͚̺̘̖̌̋̀̿̐̍̓͋̃̐͘ͅt̵̡͔̗̠̖̰̞̊͌̓̄̓̓̒̅͊ ̴̛͖̖̯̭͔̩͓̹̊̊̀̿̈́̿͛̂̓̍͊̈́͠a̸̙͚͇̖̥̗͎̍̚s̴̢̘͕͍͈̰̜͓̠̹̗͇̠̤͒̑̓̇͋̓ ̸̧̛̬͔͔͖͖̥̮͕̪̹̱̪̪̈́̍̉̓͋̄͋͗̑̈́̋̆͘å̵̛͉̦͉͎̞̲̰̗͔̤͇̐̍̍̑͐̔̄̎̅̕͜͝ ̸̡̲̞̞̩̙͂͂̑̊̚m̷̧͍̳̠̗̩̟̝̭̝̺̳͚͖͆̿̇̽̿e̵̞̱̣̎̿̽̇̔̑̽̃͑̋̀͘͝s̸̡̙̗̗̥̹̣̙̗͛̏̃͑͂̋s̷̨͚̪͖̝̍̍̋̏̓̔̀a̸̺̖̝̗̺̩̱̝̠͙̠͕̺̩͛g̴̔̓̽̑́̾̒͜͠ȩ̸̠̻̺̖̗͚͙̺̘͍͚͇̓̓̽̅̈́̈́͜͠.̴̡̘̘͚̞̯̣̚ ̸̶̡̧̮̪̼͓͉̤͈̘̜̪͓̻̠͓̱̺̭̭̿̈́̿̍̑̎̿̄̍̽̒͛̂͗̑̽͐̕̚̚̚͝͠Ĺ̵̡̙̝̥̙̏͂͑̎͂̉̓͑̆͑͛̕͠ḙ̴̢̨̓͒̔̈́̒̾́̈͘̚͘f̶̨̥̿̈́̌̂̅̃̂t̶͓͇̼̻͕̲̫̱̦̩̻̥̋͋̊̄͐̑͛ͅ ̶̢͇̼̠̻̖͔͇̲̗̝͆͆̈̀̎̐͘͜͠a̸̛̯̙͚̜̪̟̯͆̓s̴̛̰̣̲͔̤̙̹͉̫̉̓͊͆͂̈́̿̓̀̃ ̸̢̛̰̰̦̺̠̊͛̃̋̏̂́̂̓͘̕͠a̶̩̋͛̂͆͊̌̈́̊̍̇ ̵̢̢̱̯̯̟̱̞͚̥̲̺͑̈́̽ͅw̶̢̯̲̩̘̖̲͈̻̯̖͔͖̙̎͐̀ă̶̟͓̫͙̟̜̾͛̎̓̈́́͐̇͊͠r̷͕͓̀̀̔̓̔n̸̡͈̘̤͑̃́̈́̍̆̈́̂͑̒̕͜͝į̸̬̌́̓̀̊̿̂͌͌͘ͅń̷̨̛͈̞͚̼͍͔͔͜g̵̯̲͎̦̦̰̱̲̀̀̒.̶̡̤̠̫͔̦̙̳̰̘̪̪̬̒́̌͌̀͂͘͘͠
You wince, and then shift the glasses further down your face.
Well. You suppose you should call the PRT.
The PRT aren't going to like this. Choose One (1) action to perform. Taylor automatically spends free time continuing current training.
[ ]Patrol/Scout while your team prepares. (Choose a group: Travellers, Undersiders, Accord, Coil.) (Choose two people to come with you: Victoria, Any Ward, Aspirant, Trainwreck, Miss Militia)
[ ] Have Taylor take some time out to fortify the Heap with Onmyoudo.
[ ] Some of the Teeth got away. Spree, Hemorrhagia, Reaver. Aspirant seems pretty worked up about it.
[ ] Take Time Off (Pick an Extra Social)
[ ] Write-In
Choose a Social;
[ ] Victoria *
[ ] Amy *
[ ] Aspirant *
[ ] Trainwreck *
[ ] Parian *
[ ] Danny *
[ ] Oliver *
[ ] Jess *
A/N: My god, have you people seen Phearo's new art? I'm simultaneously high amused and pleased. If you haven't seen it or liked it - go do that.
Here, I'll wait.
Back? Cool.
Here's todays update. Usual disclaimers apply. Don't yell at each other, I know some of you will be tempted to argue. Have fun with it.
Last edited: Nov 15, 2020
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Bowler Hat Guy
Oct 6, 2020
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Threadmarks Interlude: Grue
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Bowler Hat Guy
Bowler Hat Guy
A Hat & Its Man
Oct 10, 2020
#23,712
Brian thought things had been going well for the Undersiders recently.
They hadn't really been making more money per say, but there jobs had gotten a lot easier. When they had first started out, they had been thieves. There wasn't a much better way to describe it than that. He would describe them as 'Smash and Grab' specialists, but that was mostly because it sounded more impressive than 'asshole with powers who steals things' - which he most certainly was.
Then their ever elusive 'Boss' had slowly started pushing them to do more and more dangerous things. He had been fine with robbing a business here and there. Most of the big companies still in the bay were just taking advantage of all the cheap labour anyway. They were better than your average Chinese sweatshop only in that they mostly didn't employ actual children.
It hadn't been great. Brain would have been perfectly content never going anywhere near another cape. He was, for lack of a better way to describe it, happy in his mediocrity. He was well known for what he did, competent at it, and was well below the notice of anyone who could easily do anything about him or his team. But picking fights with the gangs? Hitting Medhall offices when they were the biggest source of income in the bay? That kind of attention got you put on lists somewhere he was sure. It got you noticed as more than just a passing nuisance. Despite Lisa's blatant distaste for the woman, Brian had really been hoping to run the Undersiders like a parallel of Faultline's Crew. Happily mercenary, content to stay out of major cape movements, and with a reputation that made handling her in any meaningful way a waste of time.
Basically, he wanted to make it clear that, despite working within the city, he wouldn't shit where he ate. Lung, Kaiser, The Protectorate, none of them should have ever had a reason to get involved in his business.
Obviously that hadn't worked out, what with his many encounters with the Protectorate since the night Shadow Stalker had nearly killed him - again. But since they had 'earned' their release from lockup by handling Victor during the Empire's ill thought out take over attempt of the city, everything had been going great for the Undersiders. With Nexus a major presence in the city, suddenly 'get in, do the job, get out' became the best possible way to do business. Even better, the local heroes were so busy handling the flood of nobodies entering the city, that they were a lot more willing to play ball with groups like his provided they didn't make too much noise.
Well. Not his group specifically. They had sort of burned that bridge with the job at the TV station. But still. The protectorate were too busy dealing with all the new faces that didn't know to keep their heads down to deal with him and his. And if once in a while they got a tip about something the Undersiders saw? No one had to question where that info came from.
Even if half the time it was just because their boss told them to pass it on for him under their name.
"Where the fuck are we even going?" Alec asked in annoyance, from his seat in the truck they had all piled into.
"To see the Boss." He grunted back, shooting a glance to the front of the truck to see if the driver was paying any attention to them. She wasn't.
"Okay but, why?" Greg asked across from him, leaning forward to plant his elbows on his knees and tenting his fingers - mismatched in length and coloration - in front of him. Brian restrained a groan. Objectively, given the ghoulish appearance of a man sewn together from other people, wearing a tattered and ill fitting suit, the pose gave off the appearance of a late night horror shows host beckoning enigmatically for the audience to listen.
In reality, Greg was just copying something he'd seen in some cartoon or another. He could maybe pull it off if he stuck to one 'theme', but given his eclectic and altogether unnecessary knowledge of most forms of media, he had a tendency to swap between several of them. So instead of creepy, Greg just came across as ... sort of Schizophrenic, honestly.
"He's getting ready to make a big move, I think, so he's bringing us deeper into things." Lisa said in her usual know it all tone, although it wasn't accompanied by her usual smile. Instead she was frowning in thought while staring blankly at the opposite wall of the vehicle.
"Big how?" Greg pressed, his hands closing around each other and tightening as his anxiety rose. Brian could sort of see why this might bother him. To hear it told, he had sort of been friends with Nexus before joining them. He didn't really know how to feel about that, honestly. Greg was their friend now, but part of that was just the fact that they were all he had. He had pretty openly snubbed Nexus to help them out. He was always going to be thankful for that. He was pretty sure he was going to die that night before the dweeb had whipped his phone out and called her. He tried not to think about the fact that the most powerful cape in the city had several bones to pick with him though. Greg was the problem. There was no way he would vote to go anywhere near something that could set his old friend off. He would actively fight it, if he had to.
"I don't know. I think..." Lisa paused, glancing from the wall to Greg and back again, "I think he's going to make a big play for territory. Try and establish himself how the Empire and ABB used to have turf." She finished. Then she looked him in the eye for a moment and grimaced before turning away again.
So, that was definitely a lie then. Maybe not a 'lie' but definitely only part of the truth. Which wasn't hard to figure out, really. You wouldn't be able to establish territory in Brockton the way it used to be before. Not when Nexus could Alpha Strike any major location faster than you could defend it. Not when there was a cape in the city who could go anywhere and fight anyone. That was the Undersiders whole claim to fame, nowadays.
They never had to fight Nexus. Or Trainwreck. Or Aspirant. It wasn't even that they couldn't take one or both of them. It was the terror of what inevitably would happen if you did. Lisa had been very clear with the rest of them once Greg was out of earshot. The difference between Nexus and Jack Slash wasn't nearly as wide as he might have personally liked.
Still, a couple of the newbies in town had tried to muscle in on the clean little neighborhood widely acknowledged as Nexus' turf. Brian wasn't even sure what the hell their powers were though, because as far as he could tell, one or another of the Oathbound had appeared out of nowhere to smack the shit out of them before they so much as managed to break into the first building there. Some people thought Nexus had a surveillance network setup around her castle. Personally, Brian just thought the residents knew what a good thing they had going on, and were more than willing to tell whoever they had to in order to keep it that way.
Seeing that no one else had much to say - Alec had found a handheld console somewhere to entertain himself, Lisa and Greg were deep in thought, and Rachel was sitting in the corner with her dogs warily watching the driver - Brian decided to settle down and wait.
Brian started to think there was something wrong at about the same time their driver disappeared from behind them, up a side tunnel.
Actually no, that was a lie. Brain started to think there was something wrong at about the point when they were led into an underground tunnel that stretched out for entirely too long.
"Tatts?" He asked urgently when it became clear to him that there was no one to lead them and no one to stop them from leaving.
"I don't know!" She hissed back at him.
"Uh, guys?" Greg stated with a frown, his left arm shifting into something spindly with pointed fingers before it started to droop, as if made of liquid. He quickly changed it back. "Something else is-" he started to say, before the entire tunnel exploded in chaos, as something appeared behind him, grabbed him in a headlock, and then vanished again.
With Greg in tow.
"Shit! Bitch!" He called, immediately allowing his darkness to flood out of him to fill the hall they were in. Almost as soon as he had started another spindly figure appeared behind Tattletale, but he managed to leap forward and strike it in the kidney being very careful not to maintain physical contact with the thing, which turned out to be good, because it immediately vanished after being struck. Once it was gone, he grabbed Tattletale and stepped to the side, placing their backs against the wall, and shot a quick glance at Bitch and her dogs. They were slowly swelling, but not transforming fully. They couldn't with the size of the tunnel as it was.
It was with some slight trepidation that he realized they were perfectly positioned inside of killzone specifically designed to counter them. The corridor was so narrow that all someone with a gun would have to do to negate his darkness was shoot down it. Bitch couldn't get her dogs up to full size. And they had no where obvious to run to.
"What the fuck Tats?!" He growled, clearing a space around their heads so they could talk while he kept an eye out for anymore attackers. Regent had already shifted towards the wall with him, and Bitch was surrounded by her dogs.
"It's not Coil! Something got to him and forced him to call us!" She screeched, having withdrawn her hold out pistol and pointed it to his right before he could react, firing at something the was just about to stab a bony finger into his head. He didn't have time to process the fact that their boss had been Coil though.
Cursing, he whirled around to get a better look at it as it stumbled backwards and cringed at the sight of it. It was... misshapen, would be the best word he could use. Someone had made a rat stand upright and stretched a naked human woman over top of it. One of its arms was too long, and the other too short, matching its bizarrely proportioned legs and causing it to have a weird stutter stop gait.
A gait that, in no way stopped it from vanishing from sight, even as he enclosed his and Tattletales heads in darkness, then began dragging her and Regent back the way they came through the darkness, trusting in Bitchs dogs to be able to smell or hear him and follow suit.
Of course, then three more of the things appeared in front of him, just outside his expanding clouds range.
They spoke briefly, too quietly for him to easily hear over the pounding if his heart, and then vanished again.
Brian wasn't stupid. There were a limited number of useful ways to fight as a teleporter.
So the second the things vanished he kicked backward with all his strength, and was gratified to feel the crunch of a knee breaking under his foot before rolling forward, dragging everyone else to the ground with him.
Behind him, he could hear Bitches dogs barking as they no doubt jumping on another of the things, and above him, he felt the air move as the one remaining swiped at him in frustration, missing because it couldn't see him.
To his right, he could feel Regent twitch slightly as he stood, and the thing that had attacked him stumbled backwards, giving him the breath room to kip up and throw a blinding fast series of punches into its distended nose before backing off and stomping on the head of the one whos leg he had broken.
Seeing the immediate threat handled, he cleared a space in the darkness for his team, keeping the walls, floor and ceiling covered, in case there were cameras watching them.
"Everyone good?" He asked quickly, scanning them. One of Bitches dogs had a slight gash across its snout, but otherwise no one seemed hurt. Except Greg, wherever the hell he had been taken.
"I hate our boss. I want a new one." Regent replied instantly, eliciting a growl from Bitch that might have been construed as agreement.
"Tat's what the hell were those things?" He asked, making sure to keep everyone moving to the exit as they spoke.
"Projections or something. Maybe Biotinker creations. There are definitely more of them though. We need to go." She rattled off, glancing around them before gesturing in the right direction with her head and beginning to run, with the rest of them quickly following afterward.
"Where to?" He breathed out once they had made their way to the mouth of the tunnel, and stepped out into the sunlight peeking through the unfinished facade of the half constructed building they had entered through.
"PRT or Nexus. Doesn't matter which." Tattletale rattled off, quickly pulling her phone out and hitting tapping at it for a second before looking towards the car they had arrived in.
"Good, let's-" He started only to be cut off by an unfamiliar voice.
"Halt horrified dogooders!" A nasally voice yelled at them, causing him to look up at the slightly overweight woman crouched on a girder above them. She had on a loose fitting set of sweats, and wore a slightly too small bulletproof vest over it. Her head was - just barely - covered by part of a grey steel helmet with micky mouse ears sticking out of it - one of them noticeable damaged as if torn in half.
He wanted to see what Lisa was thinking right now, but didn't dare turn away from the enemy Cape.
"Who the hell are you, and what the hell do you want?" He asked harshly, projecting more confidence than he was actually feeling, stalling as Bitches dogs got up to proper size in the larger area they were now in.
"I, am the cheese that fell behind the oven when you were six. The pet you flushed down the toilet. I-" the overweight woman yelled jubilantly, flourishing her hand in the air, only to open her mouth and sneer at him with a toothy, yellowing smile.
"Am the Ratpack." She crooned, just as a dozen more of the unpleasant rat-like beings burst from cover to run at them.
He grimaced.
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Bowler Hat Guy
Oct 10, 2020
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Bowler Hat Guy
Bowler Hat Guy
A Hat & Its Man
Oct 13, 2020
#23,871
Spoiler: Choices:
Current Energy: 18
Current Training: Dragon Kind Modification EX (5/10) - (7/10)
Saturday, February 12th, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
"Oliver, get Miss Militia," Taylor commands stiffly, causing the boy to pause momentarily to process what is going on, glance down at the corpse, and then sprint off at a speed only an aura enhanced human could manage.
Despite the frankly overwhelming feeling of anger pouring off of your Master as she stares at the corpse you are examining, not one iota of it shows on her face. Whether that is because her anger is solely reserved for the perpetrator of this farce, or because she merely refuses to disturb her teammates with an outward show of rage, you don't know.
Regardless, the moment you stand from your examination, she speaks to you, turning finally away from the corpse.
"Anything?" She asks you, her face tight with the strain of keeping it from warping into an angry scowl.
"I am unsure if this is actually Dinah Alcott." You admit freely, pushing your glasses slightly upward as you stand to speak. Tension drains from your Master's body as you speak, but the anger remains.
"How so?" she grinds out stonily as Oliver returns with Miss Militia in tow.
"My..." You pause to try and find the best way to abbreviate what the Crystallized Wisdom actually is.
"...Thinker power, indicates that this corpse is fresh. They don't appear to have truly 'lived' at all. When last we saw Miss Alcott, she did not appear to have spent her life trapped in a lightless dungeon." You explain, gesturing to the girls corpse with one hand as Trainwreck steps forward, throwing a tarp over the whole thing. Taylor nods appreciatively to him.
"What's going on?" Miss Militia asks as she and Oliver finally step into the loose circle you are making around the corpse.
"Someone killed this kid, then used one of the bosses emergency escape tags to dump it here." Trainwreck responds. Miss Militia's eyebrows turn downward at this, projecting her expression past her face covering, but she doesn't respond right away, allowing the conversation to continue.
"Emmy thinks the body is fake, but even if it is, someone with one of my tags has been captured." Taylor notes much more calmly, which is unfortunate, as you are forced to correct her statement.
"No, the body isn't fake. This person was once alive. It merely has physical signs that do not match those of the true Dinah Alcott, or at least, the one we last saw at her home." You correct quickly, your sharp eyes taking note of the slight intake of breath from Miss Militia at the name but not immediately commenting on it.
You do comment on the hissed intake of air from Oliver though.
"Huntsman?" You query using the boys preferred 'cape name', drawing the attention of everyone else to him. He flinches slightly at that, but takes a deep breath and gives your Master a resolute look, which falters as he catches Miss Militia looking at him out of the corner of his eyes.
"I've had a bad experience with clones. I'll tell you what I can later." He states.
"So... it's a clone?" Taylor pipes up, some of the anger leaving her.
"The possibility is high yes." You note as Oliver nods along with you. Taylor frowns then turns to Miss Milita.
"Can the PRT figure out if this is a clone or something else? I'd like to contact her family to see if everything is okay, but it would probably sound better coming from you." She asks, pleads really.
"I'll have to inform the director of it regardless. I know it might be a lot to ask, but if you could make sure nobody touches the body?" She asks, looking around, no doubt in deference to the fact that she has just asked your Master to leave a corpse sitting in the middle of a major work area.
"Of course. Wreck?" Taylor answers stoically, turning to her second in command.
"On it." He replies, trundling away to grab something from his workbench.
"Oliver? She calls next, tilting her head towards the exit of the garage. When he nods nervously and heads in the direction she turns back to Miss Militia.
"You'll let me know what you find out?" She asks, her tone and posture much more mature than her typical playful demeanor. Miss Militia has a brief internal debate with herself before answering.
"I'll tell you what I can. Tonight is supposed to be my last night, so whoever is here tomorrow will tell you if I don't." She answers eventually. The subtext of course, is clear. Miss Militia, as nice as she is, is not a part of your team. And your team is not a part of the PRT. Ergo, the PRT as much as they might like you, don't have to tell you everything. Your Master could technically make Miss Militia do it, but you doubt she even knows that, let alone would be willing to do it, which is for the best.
Mind Control is evil, after all.
Regardless, your Master takes the offer at face value, and, with a nod, heads towards the kitchen where Oliver is waiting.
"So..." Oliver says awkwardly when Taylor drops into a seat across from him with a tired sigh, her tension leaving her now that the only people present are members of her team.
"Clones?" She prods, not altogether too strongly, no doubt consider this to be mostly an anecdotal moment for future reference.
"I was kind of a super villain before I came here." Oliver blurts out suddenly, then flinches as though expecting to be suddenly struck down.
He isn't, but mostly because you see no reason to do so. Yet. Taylor, however, jerks slightly at his statement, knocking her chair askew and nearly falling out of it before you reach out and steady it for her.
"Oliver! What the hell!" She yelps, before looking towards the firmly closed door and leaning forward onto the table to examine him more closely.
"Was! I said was!" He replies instantly, still mid flinch.
"That's not- What does that have to do with clones?" Taylor finally asks.
"One of my teammates she- hang on, don't you care?" Oliver starts, then frowns and asks in an almost offended tone.
"Should I? Are you evil now?" Taylor responds primly.
"No!" Oliver immediately yells back.
"How bad of a villain? Like on a scale from robs gas stations to eats babies." Taylor continues, tensing slightly.
"I mean... I didn't personally do anything, I was kind of the emotional support villain. B-but my teammates were pretty close to eats babies! It's why I left!" He yells in a panic.
"Why were you even with them then? No offense but your powers don't seem really..." Taylor trails off, grasping for the right words.
"Crap? I know okay? And it was just... they were all I had. Even when they did all that terrible stuff I just told myself we had to do it to survive. That no one else would..." He states, looking downcast.
"...Well, you're not with them anymore so. Uh... don't cry?" Taylor tries, face straining as she realizes that Oliver is beginning to tear up. She looks up to you for help and then back to Oliver when you give no response.
"I just- I hated it. Calling myself an emotional support villain is so accurate that it hurts. They sold one of our friends to china as a slave. I've been living in abandoned houses and roach motels for over a year. And you just- you just- none of it matters!" He blurts out, not quite sobbing, but still allowing tears to flow freely down his face.
"Olly, I honestly don't care what your friends did before this. You didn't. And now your with me, which makes you mine. So cheer up okay? I- loyalty means a lot to me." Taylor states, starting strong and then getting timid as she goes on.
"That makes it worse!" Oliver counters, pointing a shaking finger at your Master and then pausing when you tilt your head to look at it with a bit more focus than you had been before, then retrieves the appendage, hugging it to himself tightly.
"That's what we were supposed to be! Us against the world! The band of brothers! We were supposed to be willing to do anything for each other! So why does this feel so different!?" He yells.
"Apologies. However," You chime in, causing your panicked Master - who doesn't have any experience whatsoever with this type of situation apparently - to look up at you with relief.
"The difference, is that we aren't lying." You state blandly, crossing your arms in front of your chest and posing imperiously behind your Master like the guardian knight you very much are at the moment.
You do that for about thirty more seconds before you realize that no one is paying attention to you, and Oliver is half laughing, half crying, at which point you decide to vanish to avoid acknowledging any embarrassment.
"So..." Oliver finally speaks after he finishes his breakdown, exhaling harshly before continuing, "one of my teammates her power was... wrong."
"Wrong how?" Taylor asks, obviously glad for the moment to have passed.
"Making skin contact with her let her make clones of you. Evil Clones." Oliver clarifies. Your Master instantly makes the connection between what Oliver is saying and your current predicament.
"...And she's here in the city. Right now." Taylor states flatly.
"...She also sort of eats people." He continues closing his eyes and shaking slightly.
"...Right. I'm going to catch Miss Militia and tell her we have a thinker power that sussed all this out. Do they know you're here?" Taylor asks quickly rising to her feet.
"They- they actually sent me here to spy on you. One of our friends died and... you know." He says lamely. Taylor snorts.
"Stay in the castle." She orders, before turning to leave the kitchen.
"What are you going to do?" He asks curiously, scrambling to follow behind her. Your Master frowns as she looks back at him.
"To find Dinah." She replies coolly.
Sunday, February 13th, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
Standing atop the Heap, your Master is frantically orchestrating the small army of pigeons that litter the city. It wasn't more than a few hours ago that she had mass enchanted the lot of them to look out for, and report trouble to the Heap, but obviously she didn't consider some of the obvious side effects of such a working.
Namely, The roof directly above the Ward Room has suddenly become home to several hundred pigeons.
"Just... This girl! I need to find where this girl came from!" She screeches in frustration at the things, most of which just coo at her and alternate flying about the neighbourhood or attempting to cuddle up to your Master. It has the interesting effect of causing her to look like a semi sentient pile of pigeons, really.
"I don't believe they are smart enough to-" You begin carefully.
"I know! Shut up!" She yells at you, the pigeon pile shifting slightly as she points aggressively at you.
"..If you would allow me, Master?" You try when it becomes obvious your Master is about to go back to fruitlessly screaming at pigeons.
"...Go ahead." She eventually acquiesces, to which you nod and raise a hand into the air quickly concentrating on the corpse downstairs, with a specific focus on where it came from. Then you sketch out the rune Berkano in the air using a finger, the air beneath your hand glowing to match your motions. The symbol looks not dissimilar to a particularly angular 'B' and as soon as you complete the rudimentary tracking spell, it becomes a ball of light then zips forward slightly, coming to a stop when you don't immediately follow it.
Energy: -1
"There. Before we leave," You state, walking towards your Master and waving off the wave of pigeons crooning around her. Then you hold your hand out to her. She looks down at it for a second then tentatively takes it causing you to blink and shake her hand off, ignoring the hurt look she sends you as you do so.
"Apologies, I thought now would be an appropriate moment for this." You state, before withdrawing a dagger and ramming it through your palm again.
"Fuck!" Taylor screeches, leaning away from your now dripping palm.
"Hurry, or the wound will close," you instruct, advancing on her.
"Ew ew ew. No, nope, pass." She states continuing to back away from you.
"Master." You say sternly. Advancing further.
"Why- come on this is just- can't I have like a cup?!" She yells at you flailing her arms between the two of you.
You pause to think about it, guesstimate the duration of your tracking spell, then smile at your Master.
"No." You say with a bright smile.
"Your gross, and I don't know how I feel about it." Taylor scowls at you as you rocket through the skies along side her, following the dot of your tracking spell as it flies just ahead of you. Neither of you is really 'flying' in the traditional sense, merely jumping such great distances that at a glance there isn't otherwise much of a difference. Your Master can walk on air if she needs to turn, and you can simply become intangible and allow her change in direction to shift you about when the need arises.
Eventually though, you and your Master find yourselves descending into what looks to be an empty parking garage. The light of the tracking spell comes to a stop in the center of the garages third level, where it looks like something huge has recently shouldered all of the vehicles that were once parked here out of the way.
There is also, a naked man standing patiently in the center of it all.
"Hello." He says plainly as you and your Master pull to a stop in front of him.
"Where's Dinah?" Your Master asks instantly, pointing her sword at the skeletal looking man. You can't quite place your finger on why but there is something deeply disturbing about the look in his eyes, and his lack of concern for his nudity.
"Where she's supposed to be. I've always been fascinated by you, do you know that? I've seen you do so much, and yet when left alone - nothing." The man states, stepping towards you as though testing to see if he'll be struck down. He isn't, but your Master flicks her sword, causing it to change into a Khopesh in a flash of blue fire. The man examines it for a second before taking another step forward - and freezing as all the air below his neck stiffens into a solid.
"The sword hm?" He mumbles to himself, before blinking and doing... something. Your perception splits briefly, and you find yourself stumbling as you are suddenly controlling two bodies at once. Each one standing in the exact same spot, but responding separately, forcing you to conscious slow down in order to ensure both are moving properly. To your side, you can feel your Master slightly fumbling under the strain for a second, before straightening back up. Presumably, the old man in her head handling her other self. Then the man begins to speak again, and only one of the versions of him you are looking at does so.
"I've seen you use that in countless ways. Every time I kill your father-" He states blandly, before the version of Taylor in that split cleaves him in two. For just the briefest of seconds, you are one again, and then the uninjured man splits again, leaving you cross eyed as one of the splits continues to speak as though nothing had happened.
"Where's Dinah." You hear your Master growl in stereo with herself.
"I don't know." He answers seemingly honestly. Then a creepy smile sprouts across his face, an almost manic glee in the expression you wouldn't have expected from the mostly expressionless man.
"I'm actually just the distraction. Will you be arresting me now? I'm not sure how much lead time your Father was supposed to have. You might-" The man answers you luridly, before his head is quickly separated from his shoulders.
"Is that a no?" He asks curiously, not bothering to split reality again. Having had quite enough of this, you decide to expedite this obvious waste of time by glancing across the man through your glasses. As much as his nudity and behavior would imply him to be a clone, you can't afford to murder a random person, not while your Master would be left with the blame.
Thankfully, they return a result not dissimilar to that of the Dinah copies corpse. And so, without any expression or warning, you flick one of your daggers into the air, turn to leave, and backhand it towards the clone, catching it in your free hand as it ricochets back to you. You don't bother examining the damage the attack would have inevitably done to the mans torso. If he wasn't a brute, and in fact, even if he was a brute, you doubt he could survive the attack.
"Was he-?" Your Master asks, her mood clearly somewhere between apocalyptic and afraid.
"Yes. Where is Daniel right now?" You ask, to which your Master responds by opening a gap and leaping through, you hot on her heals.
You emerge from that gap directly into her living room, where Daniel sitting up to watch television with Jess, both adults blinking owlishly at the pair of you as you arrive.
"...Taylor? Is everything okay?" Danny asks as soon as he finishes processing both your sudden appearance and obvious state of mind.
"There was a bad guy that implied you were about to be ambushed. We have to go to the Heap." Taylor rattles off quickly, keeping her sword out and quickly running to check out the front window of the house for any disturbances. Daniel and Jess share a glance before he turns back to Taylor and nods once, standing up.
"I'll grab a change of clothes for us and we can go." He answers vanishing up the stairs. As he does so, Taylor whips her cellphone out, and begins messaging someone. At your curious look she explains.
"I'm telling Vicky her family should stay with us for a little while."
"Is Vicky even with her family? Last I checked, they were not..." You glance towards Jess and back again. "...on good terms." you finish.
"It doesn't matter. This is more important. The PRT should know about the clone we... fought... too." Taylor insists, pocketing her phone just as Danny comes back down the stairs.
"Well have to coordinate with the PRT. Ready?" She asks her Father as Jess steps up beside him. You can tell she is trying to ignore how close together the two are standing. Or the fact that they were awake to 'watch television' at something like two in the morning.
"I doubt it." He responds dryly, before stepping unhesitatingly through the gap your Master creates nearby. Jess quirks an eyebrow at the thing but eventually steps through after him. Taylor waits for a moment, staring at the Gap instead of stepping directly through it.
"Do you think he was just... messing with me?" She asks suddenly.
"About?" You ask curiously.
"Killing Dad." Taylor responds weakly.
"It's... possible. Or maybe we got here before the attack happened. Do you want to go back?" You ask stoically. At the end of the day, you don't know enough about your enemies goals to even begin formulating a way to defeat them. They're clearly antagonistic to your Master, and have no problem leaving disposable minions behind on the off chance she proves capable of tracking their actions, but that doesn't tell you much about their goals. If you had to hazard a personal guess, it would be that the clone you just dealt with existed purely to send your Master in the opposite direction of wherever it's creator was headed, which could be anywhere at this point. You could maybe eke enough of a connection out of the fallen clone to track it back to its creator, but whether or not that is a good idea is questionable.
So for now, you'll wait.
Sunday, February 13th, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
Your Master has been standing atop the roof of the Heap for close to an hour now, and it is beginning to worry you. You have already tried to convince her that she doesn't actually need to stand sentinel atop her literal castle like this, but evidently, the mere idea that her father could fall in battle has her somewhat spooked.
Which is why you've called him instead.
"Little Owl?" He asks as you deposit him on the roof. There isn't actually an access hatch or ladder to get up here. Everyone who could have a reason to do so either has super strength or can fly, obviating the need.
"Hey, Dad. I'll be down in a bit. I just want to make sure nothing happens before Vicky's family and the PRT get here." She lies, knowing full well that Vicky's family has already politely refused to hide in your castle. Presumably, because they either don't see the scale of the threat the way she does, or because they are still somewhat cross with her over the situation with Jess. Truthfully, you can somewhat understand the viewpoint. As much as a cape who makes more capes is a threat, you are fairly certain it isn't a threat to you. Your Master seems to be responding more to the visceral threat to her loved ones than to herself.
And that response is as disproportionate as it is adorable.
"It's ah, kind of cold up here. Are you sure you don't want a blanket? Some hot chocolate? A chair?" Danny prods, hugging himself for emphasis, even as your Master looks down to realize she has functionally been posing with her sword resting on the grand in front of her with both hands on the hilt, again, for the better part of an hour.
"I'm fine. I just- really want to keep a look out. I can go for a few days without sleep anyway. It's fine." She answers far too quickly, turning away from him as though in dismissal.
"Huh. Well. I suppose it's been a lot harder to get sick recently." Danny answers airily, shruggrin and walking over to take a seat next to Taylor who turns to stare at him as though unsure of how to respond to that.
"Kiddo, you know, I'm proud of you." Danny says once he's fully settled. Taylor, obviously trying to think of a polite way to make him go back into the warmth of the castle, snorts slightly at that before turning away again.
"Really! Look at the city. Or even just this neighborhood. Forget the gangs and the costumes for a second. The people put there, they have something to look forward to. They're working again. They have something in Brockton to point at and be proud of." Danny explains, lifting a hand to gesture expansively around himself.
"I didn't even do most of that." Taylor responds.
"But you made it possible. Taylor, it's okay to slow down. Everything that happens isn't your responsibility. There are other people to pick up the slack now." Danny states nudging Taylor's leg with and elbow until she sighs and sits down next to him, the two leaning on eachother.
"I don't like doing nothing. I did a lot of that before I got my powers." She huffs, keeping her gaze in the distance but waving a hand to create a dancing flame in front of her to warm them both up.
"I could stand watch. I believe you recently enchanted a number of pigeons to do the same." You point out, stepping forward.
Danny's expression instantly stiffens at that.
"Actually can we talk about that for a moment? Is there a reason he's so..." Danny makes a vague hand gesture at you that you still don't recognize.
"Um. The multiverse-" Taylor starts to stutter out, not looking at you.
"Because the word on the street is you get what you subconsciously desire-" Danny continues, speaking louder to talk over her.
"V-vending machines-" Taylor continues to splutter out.
"And I'll be honest, with how your Mother was I was kind of expecting-" He continues, wrapping an arm around her to hug her close when she starts as if to run away. It's obvious that she could escape if she so wanted to, but obviously doesn't - despite the faux struggle she puts up as he continues to speak.
The Hebert's are asleep by the time the sun begins to rise. You make sure to get a good look at them slumped against each other snoring before lifting them both up to take to their rooms.
Just so your Master has the memory when she wakes up, of course.
Choose a new Protectorate Liaison:
[ ] Triumph
[ ] Dauntless
[ ] Armsmaster
[ ] Assault
[ ] Battery
[ ] Velocity
And a Ward:
[ ] Clockblocker
[ ] Gallant
[ ] Aegis
[ ] Switchblade
Spoiler: Author's Note
Last edited: Nov 15, 2020
738
Bowler Hat Guy
Oct 13, 2020
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Threadmarks Throne War 10.2
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Bowler Hat Guy
Bowler Hat Guy
A Hat & Its Man
Oct 14, 2020
#24,012
Spoiler: Choices:
Current Energy:18
Current Training: Dragon Kind Modification EX (7/10)
Sunday, February 13th, 2011
The Heap, Brockton Bay
You Decide to awaken your Master sometime in the early afternoon. True to your word, you have been standing guard atop the Heap, remaining wary in case of any sudden attack that manages to get past the castles other defenses.
There are a number of benefits to this. For one, your Master - being able to observe everything you do while she is asleep - gets the benefit of sleeping while also getting to remain on watch. You are her power after all, and so anything you do can naturally be attributed to her. At least, when it would be beneficial to do so.
The downside however, is equally obvious. That being -
"I forgot how crappy this feels." Taylor grumbles from beneath the covers of her bed.
Your Master doesn't really get to enter REM sleep while you are active.
"I vote we never sleep without Emmy again!" Nemesis declares, appearing on your back as though she had always been there.
"You... do not sleep." You point out cautiously as the smaller version of your master shifts about to get a better grip on you.
"Can't prove it!" she declares childishly, releasing the hold her legs have on your upper back and swinging left and right as she haphazardly dangles from your neck. Taylor squints at this from her bed, having still not gotten up.
Her bedroom in the Heap isn't nearly as large or personalized as the one in her home. More of a waypoint in case of emergencies than anything else. Her use of Gaps and her general lack of interest in most worldly possessions means that has never had reason or opportunity to use the place. In fact, looking around the simple if wide bedroom, with a single four poster bed, a scratchy looking blue carpet, and not much else besides a door to it's own private bathroom, and presumably, a walk in closet, you realize that this may actually be the first time your Master has ever used this room. At least, since converting the Heap into a castle anyway.
"Why does she like you so much? She doesn't usually-" Taylor begins, still squinting at Nemesis' antics.
"S'cus he's hot, duh." She explains, having swung so much that she had come around to your front, forcing her to look backwards over her shoulder to look at your Master.
"...You're a sword." Taylor explains in a tired deadpan.
"A girl sword. Up!" She demands tugging on your collar.
Now, this is an interesting conundrum for you. At it's core, Nemesis is a piece of your Master. She is a distinct intelligence from your Master in every way that matters, but that simple fact remains. And so, to you, at least when you don't choose to think to hard about it, acquiescing to the swords demands is about as simple to you as doing what your Master wants.
Nemesis just hasn't wanted much from you before this.
Which is why your face remains completely blank as you lift your arms to grab her under her armpits, lifting her up. She giggles as you do so, and then uses the increased vantage point to scramble around on your torso until she is happily sitting on your shoulders.
At the accusing look from Taylor in response to your humoring of the swords antics, you just shrug, jostling her as she grabs your hair in order to keep her balance.
"She is technically part of you." You note, blinking once at your still resting Master.
"...This means nothing." She counters immediately, blushing slightly. Instead of commenting on that - because frankly, you don't really understand it and hence, don't really care about it, you move on to the reason you actually chose to wake your Master up.
"We have a meeting with the PRT in an hour." You explain, passing along the information Trainwreck gave you. When she doesn't immediately spring from bed to get ready, you continue.
"If necessary, Trainwreck has offered to stand in for you. He said, and I quote-" You state, clearing your throat before your Master cuts you off.
"Nope. I'm getting up. I'll go." She says with a grimace, springing up and heading towards the bathroom.
"Don't you want to know what he said?" You ask innocently.
"No. Let me guess. Something about Miss Militia's butt." Taylor sniffs in annoyance.
She's wrong of course.
It was Battery's butt.
Sunday, February 13th, 2011
PRT Headquarters, Brockton Bay
Ah, generic looking Protectorate boardroom. You've missed these. You also kind of wonder how many of these things exist given your positive this is on the opposite end of the building from the last time you were here but well... there just never seems to be a good time to ask about it. Which is unfortunate because it's actually starting to really bother you. Not Sigurd. Not the knight you are Emulating. You. It's a persistent sensation across all of your past Emulations that has nearly nothing to do with the Emulations themselves.
And well- you, you're getting distracted. Blinking once, you refocus on the people in the room instead of the room itself.
Piggot, as always, is standing at the head of the table, no doubt in an attempt to subtly place herself above anyone who chooses to sit - which is basically everyone here. It's the kind of power game that probably makes the woman herself feel better, but has nearly no meaning to a room full of people who can kill buildings using their powers.
Not that you will be the one to point that out.
The rest of the Protectorate is also present arrayed around Piggot at the head of the table. Most of them with a sort of grim set to their expressions that is subtly different to the one they wore during the Empire's attack on the city. You aren't sure what specifically has happened in your absence, but obviously something is bothering them greatly. More so than usual, at least.
Further down the table, between your Master and the Protectorate, are New Wave. Most of them don't appear to be much more out of sorts than normal. Vicky, however, is pointedly sitting slightly away from the rest of them, along with Laserdream and Shielder, her cousins. There is a definite divide between the adults and the children of New Wave preset, even if it isn't very overt just yet.
Well, except for the occasional mixed looks Brandish sends your Master periodically. At least it's not outright hostility you suppose. You really don't need to have the entire family mad at you right now.
Amy seems to be the only member of New Wave's younger generation that isn't sitting away from their parents, planted firmly beside Brandish with a stony expression on her face the refuses to shift, despite the furtive looks her sister sends her.
And then there is your Master. Dressed in her full costume, fidgeting with the brim of her hat while she waits for the meeting to start. When you had first arrived there had been the usual round of perfunctory greetings, except for Vicky, who had greeted your Master much more warmly. It was obvious the blond wanted to pull your Master aside to talk, but that now wasn't quite the time for it.
"Alright." Piggot states firmly, drawing everyone's attention and getting silencing the smattering of chatter that had been filling the room.
"Yesterday night, Nexus reported that someone had stolen and made use of one of her escape devices-" the Director screws her face up at this, obviously refusing to use your Master's preferred terminology, which is 'Magic Tags'. "-to deposit a corpse in her headquarters." She finishes, accompanying 'headquarters' with another mild scowl.
Director Piggot, apparently, bares a vehement hatred for your teams naming scheme for things, it would appear.
"That corpse was later identified as being nearly identical to one Dinah Alcott. The Mayor's niece." She goes on, clicking a device in one hand and causing a projector in the table, to flare to life and show an image of the girl in question on the wall behind her.
"Independent examination and Thinker confirmation were enough to confirm that the corpse was not in fact Dinah Alcott. We are however, working under the assumption that the girl has been captured and is currently being held. Nexus reports that her current projection was able to determine the corpse belonged to a clone, and we are currently working under the assumption that there may be more such clones running about even as we speak. The clones retain the memories of their originals correct?" Piggot asks, turning to your Master.
"Yes. They're also, for lack of a better word, evil." Taylor explains, passing on what Oliver told her.
"Meaning that Master/Stranger Protocol's are useless against them. Wonderful. Armsmaster?" Piggot queries, turning to the older hero - one of the few still standing.
"Director." He acknowledges, before turning to the rest of the table.
"Over the last few days a number of independents - both hero and villain - have gone missing off the streets. Originally we were investigating with an towards seeing if the Nine had come to town, but upon further examination, it would make sense for this Biotinker-" Armsmaster begins only for Taylor to cut him off.
"Not a Biotinker. Striker, I think." She corrects quickly, earning herself a blank stare from the man.
"Striker, then, to have been slowly capturing them - assuming they need capes in order to create copies of them." He continues with a frown.
"If my analysis is correct, the cape in question should only need skin contact to produce a clone of someone. The process takes seconds. If she keeps some in captivity there is no telling how many they could create." You put forth. Prior to this meeting, you and your Master had spoken, and you had agreed to bear the burden of providing all of this information to the Protectorate. Outing Oliver as a once member of this team of villains isn't on your list of things to do today, but you have to pass the information along somehow.
"Christ." You hear someone curse under their breath as you explain, drawing another scowl from Piggot who - you must admit - has gotten progressively less 'professional' about showing her displeasure since her recovery.
"For the moment, I'm declaring this an S class emergency. I've already sent a request for back up, but until we can locate this cape we can't act. We've already got the Undersiders here, so we can let the villains know through them." Piggot states.
Taylor stiffens slightly at the mention of Greg's team before leaning forward slightly and tentatively asking a question.
"You have the Undersiders here?" She asks, her voice neutral. Piggot nods once in acknowledgement of the question, but Armsmaster is the one who answers her.
"Early this morning we received a request for help from them. They had apparently been waylaid by a clone of Mouse Protector presenting itself as-" Armsmaster grimaces before continuing, "- Ratpack. Their Thinker was apparently able to discern the severity of the situation right away, so they turned themselves in. We will be releasing them to assist with the threat."
You can actually see the tension in the room shoot up at this. This won't be the first time the Undersiders have managed to escape or use the Protectorate by taking advantage of a truce. As much as they aren't particularly prolific villains, their continued record of getting away with being villains simultaneously reflects very well on their reputation - and very poorly on the Protectorates.
You can tell your Master wants to ask after Greg, maybe to see if he is okay, and if not that, then to strangle him, but she holds her tongue, knowing that this isn't the time for it.
"So if we can locate the threat, we can round everyone up and handle her?" Taylor asks instead.
"Yes. Preferably, we'll wait for a kill order - which should be arriving any time now - and the Triumvirate to arrive, sometime tonight or tomorrow. However-" The Director pauses to look around the room.
"No one in this room will be arrested if the threat is handled before that order is signed." She states grimly.
You can sense the sudden thrill of dread running down your Master's spine as the Director essentially authorizes the murder of another person, and it takes an effort of will to keep that distress off of her face. Your heart goes out to her. But you aren't really worried.
Your Master should never have to be responsible for murder. Not if she doesn't want to. That's what you are for.
The meeting finishes soon after that, and Vicky catches up with your Master as you leave - something only possible because she is forbidden from creating Gap's inside the PRT building.
"Hey." Vicky calls somewhat weakly as she hovers next to your Master in the hallway, watching the rest of her family heading down the hall, most of them shooting worried looks at her.
"Hey yourself. Are you... okay?" Taylor asks hesitantly, bumping Vicky with her shoulder and receiving a similar bump back for her troubles. A form of physical affection only possible because the two both possess enough strength and durability not to be concerned with accidentally maiming each other. It's something your sure Vicky appreciates. There are very few things the blond can interact with without worry for their durability.
Or people.
"Yeah. Things are a bit awkward with my Mom. Uncle Mike called." Vicky explains as your Master begins to slowly walk again, New Wave having gotten far enough ahead that there is no chance of bumping into them.
"Ah. I uh... heard about that." Taylor says awkwardly.
"Really? He was complaining to my Mom that Jess hired some guy they're calling Coldcock to attack him." Vicky asks curiously. You can simultaneously feel your Master's dire amusement at the name, and deep distress that her father is considered a villain warring with each other as she answers.
"Y-yeah. She's sort of living in my house so... she said she didn't hire anyone though. That uh, Coldcock guy just thought your Uncle was being a jackass." Taylor hastily defends. Vicky snorts.
"There's a manhunt for him up there. My Uncle's a Cape therapist so all his patients are pissed." She explains with a one armed shrug even as Taylor stops to star open mouthed at her.
"What?" Vicky asks once she realizes your Master isn't following her anymore.
"Nothing! I just- seriously? The whole city?" She asks with a sound of mild distress in her voice.
"Right? Don't worry, my Uncle made it clear Jess wasn't a bad guy. You're good." Vicky comforts your Master with a wan smile, obviously misinterpreting her distress.
"Uhuh... Um. How's... Dean?" She asks awkwardly changing the subject.
"Great! I hear his family is thinking of buying property near your castle. They were really impressed with your response time once they understood the situation." Vicky preens, reaching a hand around to hug your Master casually, just as happy for Taylor as she would be if the achievement was her own. Victoria is bizarrely supportive that way. Some would describe it as naive, which it is, but truthfully you have no problem with that. The young are entitled to a certain amount naivete. It falls to older fighters like yourself to defend that innocence.
"That's... nice. So you and your family are okay?" Taylor asks again, peering worriedly at her friend.
"Yeah. Sorry I couldn't convince them to stay with you. I'd come alone but I don't want to leave them alone you know?" Vicky answers apologetically.
"Just stay safe okay? You have the tag I gave you still?" Taylor asks, her tone shifting to one of almost motherly concern.
"Yes. God your worse than Amy." Vicky complains, rolling her eyes and drifting ahead.
"Anyway. I'll talk to you on PHO later okay? They're probably waiting for me out front." The blond states, waving to your Master as she zips off.
Your Master spends the rest of the evening on tenterhooks, finishing Oliver's loadout with Trainwreck - at least a very basic version of it - while constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. She finalizes Triumph and Gallant's transfer to the Heap for their stint as your liaisons, but they don't come with you to the Heap, having other things to do before they leave.
That night, you sleep in the castle. Somehow, you doubt your Master is going to school tomorrow.
You aren't likely to have a lot of time once the call goes out to begin the hunt. Choose One (1) person to wait with. Taylor automatically spends free time continuing current training.
Choose a Social;
[ ] Victoria (1)
[ ] Amy (1)
[ ] Aspirant (1)
[ ] Trainwreck (1)
[ ] Parian (1)
[ ] Danny (2)
[ ] Oliver (1)
[ ] Jess (1)
[ ] Triumph (0)
[ ] Gallant (0)
Spoiler: Author's Note
Last edited: Nov 15, 2020
683
Bowler Hat Guy
Oct 14, 2020
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