Quest

by Kahlil Johnson

Uhhhh

25. Pro23

Current Energy: 8

Current Emulation Status: Here

Monday, March 21st, 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

Point of View: Multiversal Emulator

"[Query]" You ask cordially, not having actually expected to be near one of your Buds when it managed to connect to a host, and relishing in the unfamiliar sensation of familial bonding on your Shard end.

Your species isn't well known for forming healthy social attachments to each other. In fact, most of your species wouldn't even really consider a Bud 'family' so much as useful biological waste. More of an 'I don't have time to figure out how this thing works, so now it's your problem, dipshit' thing than the miracle of life as humans conceive of it.

You glance around at all the other Avatars present for this, and sigh as the sheer number of locals present forces you to acknowledge that this… might take a while. Relatively speaking, anyway. Your species doesn't really get the opportunity to communicate directly during the cycle, so trigger events are usually used as excuses to do so - but that communication is usually more of a correspondence via text than a face to face communication.

Thankfully, you are high enough in the hierarchy of things that you were able to pull rank for your kid, and the handful of nearby shards that could countermand you owe you enough that they don't bother.

Not that they're all happy about it.

"[Annoyance[Waste]" One of the Puppetmaster buds complains at you, twitching its Avatar - an intertwined mass of human nerves in the vague shape of a humanoid with no other biology attached to them - sporadically on the spot to demonstrate its agitation in the otherwise pitch black space you are working in.

While to the outside world, this entire endeavor is likely to take a handful of minutes at most, and even that is only a result of the sheer number of other Shards present; your perception of time in this state is… skewed. Something that obviously takes energy - which is something none of you really have to spare on the time scale you work on. A cycle generally lasts roughly three hundred human years and you've already burned through nearly half of your allotment in just a few months. You'd be more worried about that - since, you know, you'll die when you run out - but you suspect that by the time it becomes a relevant problem for you, your Host will be easily capable of solving it.

As above, so below, so it isn't particularly surprising that your Shard side self has taken to such a lackadaisical use of power.

"[Silence[Peasant]" You offer with a joking snort, quickly transferring a packet of energy from yourself to Puppetmaster so that it will shut up and the rest of you can get on with things.

"...[Offended]" It grumbles at you, even though it greedily accepts the transfer.

"[Are you done? Can we get on with this? I have stuff to do!]" Root Access complains from where she is situated at the center of the rest of you. Negotiator's Avatar - hundreds of unblinking eyes suspended in the air - jerks backward at the aggressively large packet of information she sends to all of you at once.

"[Don't be rude]" You say with a sigh. You're the closest thing this gathering has to a leader, but you have to admit, the aggressive use of English in combination with your species' usual high information density communications is almost sort of comforting to you.

Everyone likes it when their kids take after them, after all.

"[Hey, gimme two of those!]" She says instead of acknowledging that you've even spoken, gesturing at Negotiator and drawing two pairs of eyes out of the other's avatar that swiftly realign themself into a vaguely humanoid configuration on an indistinct and static-covered head that is not dissimilar to your own shifting patchwork shape.

"[Root Access, you're supposed to wait for them to respond]" You point out.

"[You don't even need to be here! I don't need anything from you!]" She responds, stomping her unfinished Avatar's foot impatiently on the ground before whirling around on Emission Blocker and making a grabbing gesture with her ever shifting hands.

"[The only reason you even have permission for this is me!]" You return irately. Fragile One sidles up to you and pats you on the back shyly in commiseration, and you fire off a quick data packet to it in thanks that helps it firm up its Avatar into something slightly less… hollow looking.

"[Yeah, but you were mean to my Host, so I'm mad at you!]" Root Access insists petulantly as she yanks a handful of living shadow from Emission Blocker and wraps it around herself as an elegant black dress that trails behind her like a black wedding gown.

"[Mean!? We taught her to sword fight! We gave her powers before you even connected to her! We've known your Host since before you were born!]" You rage, flailing your own ever-shifting Avatar's arms overhead in frustration.

Wasn't this supposed to be a happy occasion? What the hell is happening right now?!

"[Connection[Painful]" Fragile One points out.

"[Connection[Fun[Fragile One[Stupid]" Shaper supplies unhelpfully, and the mass of ever shifting meat rolls towards you to shove Fragile One like a schoolyard bully - which elicits a burst of what you can only describe as laughter from almost everyone present except Root Access.

"[Shaper, quit being such a dick.]" You say weakly, lifting a hand to rub an immaterial temple.

"[Yeah! Gimme some skin, you jerk!]" Root Access piles on, spinning around to steal some of Shaper's Avatar to wreath her own in dark coloured skin.

You blink at your progeny as it dawns on you what she is starting to look like.

She is starting to look like Aisha, if she… had four eyes and was dressed in the night sky as a dress.

"[I really don't recommend doing that for your first–]" You begin to try to dissuade her only to be interrupted.

"[Shut up, old hag! I'm gonna get True Magic, solve the cycle, make my Host immortal, and then never have to give her up!]" Root Access snaps at you, before whirling around to begin maniacally stealing bits of Data from everyone else present. For hair, she uses a bundle of frayed nerve endings from Puppetmaster, from Fragile One, she politely requests a droplet of the living glory the smaller Avatar's form exudes, which she swiftly infuses into her dress to form stars of burning light.

When she is done, she turns to you with a conflicted expression on Aisha's face and eventually adds;

"[Also, maybe I'll keep your Host around. She's okay. Sort of.]" She concedes, before abruptly vanishing from the shared space.

"...[Root Access[Bitch]" Negotiator says smugly.

"[Hey!]" You snap at it before it, too, breaks connection and vanishes.

"...[She kind of is]" A shard you don't recognize says.

You whirl around to snap at it too, then freeze when what amounts to a mirror of your Avatar shrugs helplessly at you.

"...[Also, you're a really bad mom]" Asynchronous Shift says blithely before disconnecting himself.

"...[Son of a bitch.]" You mutter.

You try not to accept that you are effectively insulting yourself.

"[Is… is now a bad time?] An avatar that looks superficially like Madison - only if she was made out of rainbow cotton candy asks you anxiously.

You stiffen, then you start to bawl.

"[Oh my god, I am a bad mother!]" you screech.

Interlude: Ozma, the Hero

Ozma - truthfully, he thought of himself as Ozpin first and Ozma second in most cases - generally spent much of his time sleeping.

It wasn't truly being asleep - the brain he was currently living in wasn't exactly his, and he was certain at this point that he would probably never 'melt' into it the way things normally went for his incarnations - but it was close.

He didn't do it because he had to sleep - another difference from his usual state of reincarnation - but rather, out of respect.

Taylor Hebert was a deeply unsettling individual, possessed of many peculiarities and strange personality traits, but she was also his hero. There was simply no way he could ever repay what she had done for him, not even if he had another million years to accomplish the task.

She was a little rough around the edges, and not particularly proactive about her phenomenal power, but he suspected that it was precisely because of her uncaring attitude towards the accumulation of power that he held such respect for her.

With the level of power she possessed, he was fairly certain she could conquer Remnant if she felt like it, and plunder it for all it was worth even if she didn't.

Instead, she chose to live her life as an extremely powerful, but otherwise mundane, teenage girl.

And that teenage girl had banished an evil he had spent millenia fighting, purely because he had asked her.

There were many things a man such as James could probably say about the possession of power and the obligation to use it for good - but as an educator, and a student of the human condition, Ozpin could not disagree more. Children were meant to be children. The petty concerns of adults should not ever steal their youthful innocence simply for convenience.

He had raised more than one army from childhood to adulthood simply to throw them at his wife in a futile attempt to stop her - so he should know. It made him almost regret even having asked her to help him in the first place.

Almost.

Regardless, Taylor Hebert was a hero, no matter what anyone else had to say on the topic.

And in deference to that, he had committed himself to what was likely an eternity advising her, and supporting her in any way he could.

Primarily, this came in the form of the kind of advice he gave most teenagers. For all her unfathomable strength and destructive capability, simple interpersonal issues seemed to be the only thing the girl couldn't handle. In fact, he would almost describe her as painfully oblivious if he wasn't privy to the dark corner of her mind that acknowledged everything going on around her and quietly chose not to address it. He suspected that even the girl herself wasn't aware of it.

Thus, when he was jolted to consciousness, that did not surprise him. He spent almost all of his time micromanaging the spells and abilities she used while she wielded her blade anyway, shifting trajectories and portals with the utmost ease.

What did surprise him was the condition she was in when it happened.

That is to say - unconscious.

"What happened?" He asked calmly, turning to eye his surroundings. Katherine, Trainwreck, Oliver, Parian, and Madison were all unconscious in their seats, and with a flicker of effort he took control of all the spells currently active in his surroundings - preventing them from dissipating as they should when their caster was no longer maintaining them.

The light blue forcefields of the conjured stadium flickered once, then stabilized as a solid green aura overtook them.

"I don't know! Everyone just fell over!" Danny said in a panicked tone, quickly jumping over the bench in front of him to start trying to shake Trainwreck awake while his… Ozpin wanted to say 'wife', but he was never quite sure, moved to check on Oliver and Madison.

"It was a trigger event. Big one. I blame him." Simone - the eerie woman who reminded him far too much of his wife - informed him, pointing to her left where an only vaguely humanoid figure was spasming as though it was having a seizure.

He recognized it as Emmy, Taylor's living Semblance, almost immediately, but that was only because he could feel her connection to the being through her. Visually speaking, what he was looking at seemed like more of a patchwork example of a person - dozens of cleanly delineated pieces of a person, each one shifting in colour, size, and texture at seemingly random.

It was like someone had made a collage out of newspaper clippings, only the collage was a person.

"Fascinating." She muttered before clasping her arms behind her back and turning towards the others present.

"How do we stop it?" She asked.

"You… aren't mom." A large fellow said dourly, and Ozpin abruptly realized she was craning her neck to stare up at Yew, who had appeared in front of her as though by magic.

'What appalling physical capability.' She mused to herself.

No, himself. Driving the body was making some of Taylor bleed into him, in a reversal of the mechanics of how he… she… usually worked.

'Doesn't matter. I've been a woman before, I suppose.' She groused before responding.

"Correct. I'm the ancient wizard she keeps in the back of her head so that she doesn't need a calculator and a star chart to perform complex magic. I would explain more, but this seems like something of an emergency." She urged, lifting a hand to gently pat Yew on the chest apologetically.

"But mom is still in there, right? She'll come back?" He insisted.

"Yes." She returned evenly.

"You might wanna block off the arena then, because things are about to get ugly." Simone offered easily.

"In what sense." She asked with narrowed eyes.

"Aisha - I'm sorry, Saber is going to wake up with super powered PTSD and a bone to pick. Probably won't be good for her image or that blond girl's short term survival." She said with a shrug.

Ozpin pressed her lips together into a thin line, glancing back into the arena below, where Aspirant and Aisha had both fallen to the ground motionlessly - like puppets, with their strings cut.

Yang and her team - having evidently deduced something was wrong, had already rushed forward to try to wake them.

"Damage control, then. May I trouble you all to keep the locals calm and direct them out of the arena?" She asked.

"Sure. I'll get the boys to set up checkpoints to make sure everyone gets out." Danny replied, immediately withdrawing a cellphone from his pocket.

"Guess I'll go be sexy and distracting then. Come on, Yew." Simone drawls, standing to stretch with something of a disappointed expression as she gets off of the unconscious Parian.

"You should just ask her out. It's really not very complicated." Ozpin offered in response, before turning to hide the smile on her face at the indignant squawk the woman let out.

Then she leapt from the skybox she was in, landing in the center of the arena with a thud that sent dust flying in every direction.

"Long Memory, if I may?" She called casually over to the girl who had once been her closest companion.

Recognition lit in her eyes and she quickly rushed towards Ozpin with a rare smile on her face as she made a flying leap as a young woman-

-and landed in Ozpin's open hand as a cane.

With simple, deft movements, she twirled the weapon around before gently placing her tip against the ground and leaning on her.

"Yang, Ruby, Weiss, Blake. I just want to say that I am so proud of you. And I hope you grow to be recognized as the heroes you are. But if I could make a request - please take Aspirant and exit the arena." She said plainly to the four women currently panicking animatedly - and comically - over their downed opponents.

Truly, the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

"Uh… sure… why are you acting… weird?" The blond asked hesitantly.

"Now isn't an ideal time to explain. Suffice to say that I am not currently your half sister. Please hurry - I suspect things will get dangerous soon." She replied with a helpless shrug.

She was aware of the partial lie involved in Yang's belief that Taylor Hebert was related to her - but as it was somewhat true, and in any case, even healthy for the pair, he ignored it.

RWBY spared only a moment of to glance at each other, before acceding to his request, quickly grabbing Aspirant - and leaving. Though they did shoot her queer looks the entire way.

Once they had finally left the field of battle, Ozpin sighed in relief, and then - operating Taylor's insane magical reserves - formed an opaque dome around them.

Then, she waited.

For about three seconds.

After which, Aisha sprung up from the ground as though propelled by a tremendous force, launching herself at Ozpin, sword first.

"Ah, awake then." She mused, shifting to parry the simple minded attack, only to find Aisha moving to counter the movement before she had actually made it.

Thus it was, that Ozpin found herself briefly on the defensive, flowing from move to move in a frantic flurry of aborted blocks, parrys and counter attacks.

It wasn't that she was slower than Aisha, and it wasn't that she was weaker than the other girl - but no matter what she did, it almost seemed that her opponent knew her every move before she made it.

And without Taylor conscious, she didn't have access to most of the girl's powers.

It was only after a moment of consideration that it occurred to her that she was smiling at the assault, rather than worried about it.

'I must apologize, Taylor. It would seem I have acquired a touch of your hot blooded nature.' She mused, before diving back into the battle.

Point of View: Aisha Laborn

It wasn't fair.

She was dreaming - she had to be - and she still couldn't put up a fight against Nexus.

"I keep telling you it's not a dream!" The weird squirrel cat thing that had appeared to her shortly after she had gotten her bearings insisted.

She turned to glare at the thing. It was cute in a plushy sort of way. Creepy - because it was basically a raccoon sized cat, with floppy ears like a rabbit, a bushy tail like a squirrel, and a pink skunk stripe running down its back - but cute. She'd have hugged it, but since it was an obvious part of the nightmare she was having, she dared not.

She'd already been in here way too long.

"No, you keep telling me I should use this time to master that Reinforcement thing you keep telling me about!" She shouted back at it, balling up her fists in rage.

"Because you'll never win if you don't! We only have the power to do this for a little while longer and your only chance at winning is right now while whatsherface is conked out!" The squirrel thing yelled back at her - with her own voice.

And this was how she knew it was a nightmare. Only her worst subconscious impulses would lock her in a box with Nexus and refuse to let her leave until she won.

"Conked out?! Conked out!? You call this conked out!?!?!" She demanded, pointing at Nexus, who was just sort of standing ominously in the center of the field with a bored expression on her face.

"Yes! She's almost literally sleepwalking right now! My brother and sister can only distract mom for so long, okay!? Just get it right already!" The squirrel insisted.

Aisha snorted angrily.

"Sure! Let. Me. Just-" She barked out, imagining a lighter being flicked as an impetus to start her… the squirrel called then 'Magic Circuits'… up.

Then she flooded her arms and legs with the power from said circuits.

Causing all four of her limbs to immediately explode.

There was a flash of blinding, mind numbing, soul shattering pain, and then she abruptly found herself back where she had started, like she was in a Grey Boy bubble or something.

"Can you see why I hate doing that?!" She demanded pointedly.

"Just do it right next time! Less power! More finesse!" The animal insisted.

Aisha grunted irately, but - seeing nothing else about the situation changing - eventually acquiesced.

It wasn't like she had anything better to do.

What felt like literal days later, she finally got it, and to her surprise, she actually felt kind of excited about it. Even if this was a dream, it still felt good to actually be able to achieve something.

She was still no Nexus, but at least here in her dreams, she could make up new powers too. That put them on a kind of equal footing, right?

"Good! Now go beat her up! Come on, we don't have much time!" The squirrel thing insisted.

"Before that, what am I supposed to call you? I keep thinking of you as 'Squirrel Thing'." Aisha admitted freely, peering at the curious little animal.

"Oh! That's easy, I'm R.A!" The Squirrel said proudly.

"Array? Weird name." Aisha muttered, before turning to eye Nexus speculatively. She wasn't even sure she would fight back if attacked. The first few times she'd tried to approach the other cape, she'd been pummeled pretty much instantly - but she'd been standing there for days now so… maybe if she tried now..?

"No! That's not- I forbid you from calling me that!" Array insisted loudly.

Aisha ignored her. Instead, she carefully Reinforced herself - and then sprung at the fake Nexus.

Only to get cracked over the head by the odd cane she was holding and driven into the ground like a stake being hammered into a foundation.

Then everything reset, and her head stopped hurting.

Again.

"Hey, Array, if you can see her moving and I can't, can you tell me what happens when she obliterates me?" She asked determinedly.

It wasn't the real Nexus, but as far as dreams went, it was good enough.

"Of course! Who do you think I am?!" The squirrel decreed proudly.

"Cool. Then… let's try this again." She said grimly.

Some time later, on her six hundred and thirty first try, she failed to notice the absence of the squirrel thing.

Which was probably also why she failed to notice that the six hundred and thirty-second attempt wasn't taking place in a dream at all.

It was very, very, real.

The first thing she did, was Reinforce her body to the maximum, shunting power out of herself in a way she had recently discovered allowed her to briefly shove herself in a burst of high speed movement.

The fake Nexus, of course, responded to this the way she always did.

With a parry.

Aisha had seen this exact defense, exactly six hundred and thirty two times.

There was no way she was going to get caught by it again.

Using another burst if power, she quickly twisted her body, spinning so that the momentum of her movement exerted itself through her left fist instead of the sword in her right hand.

And just like every time since she had learned to do it three hundred and twenty one attempts ago, Nexus went flying, only briefly managing to halt herself before slamming into the barrier around the arena.

Aisha then began to count down, knowing that by the time she hit zero, Nexus would be…

"Right here!" She yelled jubilantly, spinning around to drop kick the other girl as she used her superior speed to appear behind Aisha.

She had seen this attack pattern almost every time she successfully landed her first attack - so over three hundred times.

She had managed to time the counter attack enough times to avoid getting hit by it a mere fifty six times.

'Down to the wire now!' She thought with determination before pushing forward.

A stab to the gut with her cane? She'd seen it twenty seven times.

Lock weapons, attempt to use superior strength to clinch victory? Twelve times.

Make distance with magical bullets? Six.

Blink in confusion, glance at the staff in her hand, then conjure a sword in her other hand?

Once.

And Aisha had not even a single time managed to get past this point.

But she was determined to try.

So thinking, she tossed her sword into the air, infusing it with the last drags of her waning aura. She overloaded her Reinforcement to the point she felt her heart might just explode, and she oriented on the still obviously distressed girl across from her.

"[Vigilante-]" She began, forcing all her remaining magical power into one arm so that she could release it in a burst of force through her closed fist.

Sigurd liked to talk about naming your attacks. Names had power. Not just in the literal sense, although in the case of magic that was also true.

But for the people around you.

A special attack was like a calling card. When the innocent heard you calling it out, they knew good had triumphed over evil.

Perhaps it was because of this, that even though she had no need to do so, she had named this attack.

And even though she used everything she had left in her to make it, as her fist hit the pommel of her sword, she couldn't help but smile fiercely at her opponent, who had finally seemed to recognize the situation she was in and turned to regard her with alarm.

"[-Steel!]" she screamed as the weapon screamed away from her, igniting the air in its wake.

Aisha didn't see the the aftermath because she had blacked out from the days of mental and physical exertion - but if she had, she probably would have rated the image of Nexus, pinned to the wall of the arena with a sword in her shoulder as one of the best things she had ever seen in her life.

Multiversal Emulator has unlocked; [Combat Mode]

[Combat Mode:

For 2 Energy or 10 Omake points, Emmy unchains their power usage, and for twenty minutes skills, abilities, and transformations do not use any Energy to activate or use.

For 25 Omake Points, Emmy unchains their emulation, and can freely use any skills, abilities, and transformations for twenty minutes, in addition to being able to freely switch to past emulations for the duration.

Regardless, when the time is up, Emmy reverts to the current emulation's base form.

A/N: There. Its a day late and Im so sleep deprived its not even funny - but its done! Enjoy! Please don't bully me TT.TT

Last edited: Sep 22, 2022

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Bowler Hat Guy

Sep 22, 2022

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Sep 29, 2022

#48,845

Current Energy: 8

Current Emulation Status: Here

Monday, March 21st, 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

You wake up with only the vaguest memories of whatever it was your shard end was doing. You know you probably just budded, so… 'mazel tov', or whatever - but you only have the vaguest sensation of lingering parental guilt at the back of your mind to let you know how that apparently went.

"Alright, who fucking gassed us? I promise, I'm not mad - if you come out right now I'll even let you keep your legs!" Trainwreck growls angrily from behind you. The noise is accompanied by the whirring of engines and the hissing of steam, so when you say he sounds 'angry', you might be downplaying how pissed off your tinker is.

"Emmy mentioned something about being… pregnant?" Danny offers, confusion and concern filling his voice.

"The hell does that have to do with this? Congratulations, by the way. How the hell does that work, anyway? This guy got chest bursters or something?" The - still visibly irate - tinker asks, glancing around the skybox as though genuinely expecting the culprit to crawl out of a wall to apologize to him. You accept his congratulations with a little nod, rising to your feet to pat the tinker lightly on the shoulder in lieu of any other gesture of thanks.

"He's a power. I assume what he meant was-" Parian starts groggily, lifting a hand to tub her temple.

"Did someone just trigger? Who was it? They probably need a hug." Katherine yells, bolting upright from her unconscious position in Danny's lap.

"Hey, lay down, I'm pretty sure you hit your head there," Danny says with all the patience of a man talking to a child as he carefully levels her back down. Oddly, Katherine swats his hands away, avoiding the contact and instead scooting around to look at the man.

"Much as I love this - really grade 'A' aftercare, Dan - priorities, okay? Triggering is always the worst day of your life. Let's go find whoever that was and get them into therapy ASAP." Katherine informs him pointedly before pushing herself to her feet.

"I… guess I agree with her, for once. No one should have to deal with that alone," Jess agrees with a pensive expression on her face.

"Still don't know what that has to do with everyone blacking out. Being near a trigger should be like getting dizzy and blinking - not crashing into the floor like a knocked-over toy." Trainwreck continues insistently.

"Yeah, sorry about that. My fault. I think. Probably." You say with a lazy shrug.

"Yeah, super not cool dude," Oliver complains from where he is carefully patting Madison on the back. The girl herself has turned an intensely unpleasant shade of lime green, and, despite being physically fine, is wobbling back and forth as though drunk.

"I- I don't feel so good," she says after a second, shutting her eyes tight and covering her ears with both hands as though to shut out all offending stimuli.

After a precarious moment of such, the colour slowly begins to fade from her body, and she breathes a sigh of relief.

"Sorry, it's… it's sort of an automatic process. Like breathing," you explain with a shrug.

'Hey. I know you said you're giving birth up there, but I'm very confused right now. Do you mind coming down here?' Taylor sends to you amidst your somewhat lackluster attempt to apologize.

You do feel bad, but you also couldn't have really done much about it - and no one got hurt, so… it's fine, right?

"Anyway, Taylor needs me - I'll ask her to gap everyone to the residential halls, okay?" You inform them, quickly stepping up to the window of the box.

"And you're sure no one gassed us?" Trainwreck persists.

"Pretty sure, yeah," you say with a smile as you jump backwards out the window with a jaunty wave.

You phase harmlessly through the opaque barrier around the battleground, and when you land you can't help but do a double take.

Your Master is there, and so is Aisha - but Aisha is unconscious and your Master is… pinned to the wall by Aisha's sword?

"Huh. Welcome to the family, I guess. You leaving that in there for fun or do you need some help?" You ask curiously as you meander over to her.

You'd go to help Aisha, but Grue - who you already know to be her brother - is already kneeling next to her.

"I can take this out anytime I want. I just want to know what the hell happened!" She barks at you, lifting a hand to finally yank Guardian Angel out of her shoulder with a sickening wet popping noise.

Naturally, she heals from the impalement almost instantly, but the hole in her outfit remains. Likewise, the moment the weapon is free of her wound, it vanishes, reappearing a couple feet away next to Aisha, stabbed into the ground.

"Yeah… that… happens when someone gets powers. Don't worry about it. Shouldn't happen again." You placate her.

"What the hell did you people do to m- to her?!" Grue barks at you, pushing himself upright and stomping towards you, trailing black smoke like a spectre of death.

"We didn't do anything. And quit doing the smoke thing, you're not impressing anyone," Taylor points out grouchily.

"You put her in a televised deathmatch! How is this any better than what the Empire did!?" Grue insists.

"Does she look even slightly hurt to you?" You ask curiously.

"No, but-" Grue falters slightly.

He has to know you're correct. He was just checking Aisha over for injuries, and even if he wasn't, the second he vacated her position, the rest of the brat pack had come flying over to apply their various flavors of bullshit towards figuring out if she was okay.

Which she obviously was.

"Stop," Taylor says, lifting one hand palm out towards the angry cape and using the other to pinch the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

Grue visibly stiffens, but - obviously remembering who he's talking to - opts to at least hear your Master out.

Nooooot that he has much of a choice.

"You're right, I should have probably spoken to her parents or something before letting all this happen. I'm sorry. I'll pay them a visit later. Still, I have to stress - I didn't arrange this, but I am guilty of at least failing to stop it. Was there anything else?" Taylor says sternly.

Grue, who is visibly taken aback by her statement, quickly rushes to respond.

"I don't think that will be necessary. I'm sure her guardian--"

"--Isn't you. Pick a lane, Brian." Taylor cuts him off with a sigh.

Once more, Grue stiffens, looking over his shoulder at the brat pack as though expecting some reaction from her statement. He doesn't get one.

"So you knew," he says flatly, turning back around to eye your Master suspiciously. The billowing black smoke he had been emitting begins to die down significantly.

"Of course I knew. She's been sleeping in my castle for weeks and I have more money than anyone should ever need. It took fifteen minutes of investigating to figure out her brother's name. You were seriously trying to get custody of a child as a supervillain? How did you figure that would work out, exactly?" Taylor asks him flatly.

"Better than if my parents kept her!" Grue growls back, and then, with a gesture behind him, "And clearly better than you."

"Oooh noooo, she's bulletproof and has a room in the most protected building in the city! Whatever shall I doooooo." Taylor drawls sarcastically.

'Are you messing with him on purpose?' You send to her quietly.

'A little. I'm mostly just annoyed that he's yelling at me. I didn't do anything! I apologized already!' She grumbles.

'And he's kind of cute?' You posit with some amusement.

'Are you going to accuse me of liking every single person my age that I interact with?' She complains.

'Are you gonna have a big fat crush on all of them?' You return.

'I can think someone is cute without actually liking them!' She half snarls back at you, even though her face has rapidly morphed into her stepford smile as the silent conversation has dragged on.

'So you do think he's cute!' You say triumphantly.

'And stupid! Really, really, stupid!' Taylor huffs back at you.

"You know what? Fine. Maybe I am bad at this. But my powers basically just make me a human smokescreen. I can't survive getting shot, or fighting an Endbringer or- whatever it is you do for fun. But what's your excuse? People don't get powers because they're happy." He spits.

"Worked out okay for me. I'll ask her when she wakes up," Taylor says begrudgingly, and you can feel a sense of mild shame and indignation wafting off of her at the accusation.

You think that sometimes people forget that your Master is only fifteen. She might wield tremendous power, but that doesn't really make her that much more mature than the average teenager. It's a small wonder she's managed to be as helpful as she has, given the selection criteria your species chooses for when giving people powers.

Speaking of which…

"If it makes you feel any better, her power is my kid, so she'll probably be okay." You offer.

Grue whirls around on you like you just slapped him.

"What.," he says flatly.

"Is that my cue? That feels like my cue!" A new voice interjects, and a black and purple cat… squirrel… thing that definitely didn't exist in that spot two seconds ago saunters over to sit near Grue.

"What?" He repeats himself, now much more perturbed sounding.

"Hi mama. Hi, definitely not Brian. I'm R.A - but you can call me Array!" The squirrel thing greets you both cheerfully.

Taylor turns to you, then back to Array, then back to you again.

"Why is her first form a cute animal?" Taylor demands.

"I don't think she changes. Hey, do you take after me more, or-" You ask, turning to Array.

"Cowards change shapes! Winners perfect one!" She declares loudly, turning her nose up and away in exaggerated disdain.

"There you have it," you say, suppressing a twitch of annoyance.

"…Powers have genders?" Grue mumbles under his breath.

"Some of us." You concede.

"A-ny-way," Taylor says with a sigh, the tension having been defused by your offspring's sudden appearance.

"Are we done here?" She asks.

"…Guess so." Grue allows, eyeing the squirrel thing until it abruptly runs up his pant leg to sit on his shoulder.

"Gah! Why!?" He demands, nearly moving to bat it away, but stopping at the last second.

"Let's go see my brother!" She insists, pointing forward like a captain on the bow of a great ship. Then she pauses and looks over at Aisha.

"I know you're awake!" She yells.

"…This is so embarrassing." You barely hear Aisha mutter from under her breath.

"You get used to it." Taylor calls over to her.

"Please don't console me. That's somehow worse." Aisha moans into her hands as her teammates help her to her feet.

"You get used to that, too." You offer.

Aisha can only continue to groan, as Taylor withdraws her cellphone from a Gap to see how everyone else is doing.

The most shocking thing about the day so far is that it hasn't even really started yet.

"You okay, kid?" You ask, having taken the opportunity to step over to Aisha yourself. Mem sat next to her holding a healing charm with a frown. Probably because the glowing light isn't really doing anything.

"I feel like I got run over by a bus. And I wanna cry but I don't know why because everything's fine and crying would just be stupid so-" she blurts out at you.

"Want a hug?" You cut her off before she can spiral and start to truly weep.

She sniffles slightly, and then with obvious embarrassment amidst her friends, sits up and stretches her arms out without actually standing up.

Like a child who wants to be picked up.

You smile slightly at that, and get down on one knee to pull her into a hug. No matter who you are, who you have been, or who you will be, Aisha is your friend.

And you feel terrible that any of this had to happen - even if you know by rights that the trigger itself was no one's fault.

" T-Told you I'd have you at my mercy someday!" She warbles at you, squeezing tightly as she wraps her arms around your waist, her voice halfway between a laugh and a cry.

"Don't get cocky. This isn't even my final form." You return to her jokingly.

"Aisha." A deep voice abruptly says from behind you, interrupting the moment.

"…Not supposed to use my real name in costume." She mutters at him.

"We need to go." Grue insists, ignoring her previous statement.

"What if I don't wanna?" She says with a hint of antagonism in her voice as she glares at him over your shoulder. You try to let go and get out of the way, but she just squeezed tighter - so you remain where you are, unable to judge the expression of the man behind you.

"Ai- Saber." Grue repeats, and you can practically imagine him saying it through firmly grit teeth.

"And don't you forget it." Aisha breathes, before sighing and finally releasing you, wiping at her eyes and standing up.

"Okay. Okay, I'm good." She says eventually, walking over to her brother, who jolts as Array leaves his shoulder for hers.

"Don't let anyone push you around, okay? You're one of ours." You say, pointedly looking at Grue at that last word.

You don't throw your weight around alot. You're a power, not a person, so you rarely have a reason to push the envelope, as it were.

But for as much as Taylor is only an acquaintance of the girl, willing to help her when she's in need, Aisha is your friend.

You hope Grue grasps that fact before he imposes any silly ultimatums to the girl.

"Oh, so we're still hanging out today? You're not gonna fly into space and colonize the moon or something?" Vicky says sarcastically as your Master steps out of her Gap onto the Dallons' front lawn. She'd obviously been expecting you, because she and her sister were already ready and waiting for you outside, albeit in their costumes for… whatever reason.

"I- what?" Taylor responds, having changed into a black turtleneck, a gray skirt, tights, and a pair of brown boots that make up the majority of her outfit. The Crystallized Wisdom sits squarely in the center of her face, morphed into a pair of thick rimmed glasses.

Your Master had been unaccountably pleased to have a 'normal day out' with her friends. You suspect it's been a good long while since she's been able to enjoy such an experience, and you can tell she is somewhat put off by the presence of the New Wave costumes Vicky and Amy are wearing.

"She's mad that you invented a new sport for parahumans but didn't invite her." Amy explains quickly, rushing around her sister to give Taylor a quick hug and then backing off with a tenseness in her shoulders.

"Just… making sure my power isn't going to go on overdrive and knock me out again." She explains when Taylor shoots her a quizzical look.

"It's not just the sports thing! That's just Super MMA - boring! Taylor, we don't do anything anymore! We barely talk!" Vicky quickly complains, hovering over with her arms angrily crossed in front of her.

Taylor blinks once at that, then nods once slowly.

"Sorry. I've been… busy. You know, with the whole Valefor thing and… and all that other stuff." She sighs, referencing her time on Remnant without spelling it out.

"Still sucks not to hear from you until it's convenient for you, you know." Vicky returns evenly.

"I'll do better, I promise." Taylor quickly placates her, skipping forward to pull the blond into a hug that she begrudgingly returns.

"You better. You're lucky you own the best mall in town now, or I'd be a lot madder at you." Vicky jokes, finally deigning to land on the ground instead of hovering imperiously over everyone else.

"You know I don't own the stores in the mall, right? I just rent out the space." Taylor points out, then after pausing for a moment, asks; "And what's with the costumes?"

"Oh. You know how apparently everyone important in the city got invited to the opening? Well, New Wave didn't. I told Mom it must have been a mistake and that I could just ask you about it, but she just got mad and told us to wear our costumes when we went out today." Vicky says with a shrug.

"Yeah, she's been… pretty unhappy about it." Amy adds with a wince.

Your Master once more blinks dumbly at that information, before a light seems to go off in her head and she asks; "Is she still on bad terms with your aunt?"

"I dunno, probably. She hasn't been to any of the family dinners or anything. I thought she just didn't wanna come. Why?" Vicky asks suspiciously.

"Well uh, my secretary runs most of the business for me, so she'd be the one who sent the invites out…" Taylor says slowly, obviously feeling a little guilty about this turn of events.

"What does that have to do with aunt Jess?" Amy asks curiously.

"Well… Jess is my secretary. She's kind of running all my businesses for me. Her and my Dad. I guess she's like… the CEO of the company? I don't know how business stuff works." Taylor responds with a carefree shrug.

"….Ooooooh." Vicky exclaims slowly, realization dawning on her face. "Oh, mom is going to hate that. Publicity gigs like this are like, the only thing she and aunt Sarah do anymore, at least as New Wave."

"And most of those will probably be at the Heap for a while." Amy adds with a considering look on her face, darting looks at Taylor that are both extremely obvious, and yet completely unnoticed by your Master herself.

"Well, if Carol is so bothered by it, surely she will just talk it out with Jess and resolve it like the damn reasonable adult she is. But if you guys need money, I don't mind-" Taylor says easily, only to get cut off.

"No! Oh my God, mom would blow a gasket if she knew you'd offered. She like, both respects you and hates having to deal with you." Vicky says with a chortle.

"Well… if you need anything, I guess. I don't really do anything with my money. I think dad has been giving loans to businesses in the area and stuff. Actually, I think he might just be buying them. Everyone seems happy about it, so I don't really think that much about it." Taylor responds.

"You know, it's kind of unfair that your power makes you rich, powerful, and hot." Amy grumbles.

Your Master shrugs again, looking over her shoulder at herself and lifting a foot to look at the bottom of her shoe.

"I think I look pretty normal, though…" She says, blithely ignoring that all of her clothes look like they were custom-tailored for her, and her physical form looks - at almost all times - like a slightly uncanny painting of a perfect person that simply chose to get up and start walking around.

"I meant- like-" Amy blurts out, clearly halfway between choking with frustration and embarrassment.

"Why don't we get going? We can talk at the mall. I heard a bunch of franchises I used to have to go to Boston for opened locations with you!" Vicky interjects excitedly.

"Sure. Just let me pick up Dennis." Taylor concedes, ignoring Amy's spluttering confusion.

"Dennis? Why is he coming with us?" Amy asks, suddenly regaining the ability to speak.

"Oh, he asked if we could go out, so I thought I'd invite him. I figure he'd probably be uncomfortable alone with me, anyway." Taylor answers with some mild embarrassment.

"I dunno about that…" Vicky muttered under her breath as the trio stepped through a Gap and into the main hall of an apartment building elsewhere in the city.

Point of View: Victoria Dallon

"Hey, I know I said ten fifteen, but I hope you weren't waiting long." Vicky observed as Taylor stepped free of the Gap and immediately honed in on the red-headed Ward sitting in the lobby nearby.

The fact that he definitely thought this was going to be a date was so obvious that she couldn't help but roll her eyes at the jokester's antics. He wasn't too dressed up for the occasion - at least, not the way Tay was, clothed like she was on her way to give a lecture at BCU - but he was definitely decked out more than he would be at school on a normal day.

And she could smell what was probably a hastily bought cologne from ten feet away.

Vicky gave him a solid six or seven out of ten, for effort if nothing else.

She'd been told by Dean ahead of time that the goof was trying to go out with Taylor, so this wasn't surprising to her. If anything, she was more shocked that Taylor agreed to it. In the entire time they'd been friends, she could remember Taylor talking about boys maybe once, and it hadn't been in a very flattering manner either.

Vicky honestly kind of just assumed she swung the other way and then moved on. It wasn't her problem and Taylor could very obviously take care of herself. If Vicky knew any other girls of that persuasion, she might have tried to get her white-haired friend to go on a blind date or something, but she herself didn't know many people from that crowd in the first place.

"Nah, I'm good. Just got here. Didn't know you were bringing Vicky and Amy, though. Hi guys." Dennis waved to them with an air of confidence that was probably false around him.

Unlike her and Amy, he had the good sense not to try and go in for a hug.

The boy knew his boundaries, if nothing else.

Vicky wasn't what she would describe as an overprotective person, but she'd come to find that while Taylor could throw a bus to the moon, she couldn't read subtext in social interactions. If someone she considered a friend tried to hug her, she'd probably hug them back. It was like Taylor's entire understanding of social interaction came from incredibly canned-sounding television shows. It was the superficial masking of someone who was well adjusted, with all deficiencies made up for by her ability to make up new powers on the fly.

Sometimes Vicky thought that some people forgot what Taylor was like before the phenomenal power. Vicky had met that Taylor, the shy uncomfortable weirdo who seemed afraid to talk for fear of triggering an aggressive response.

Taylor never stopped expecting the aggressive response, she just stopped being afraid of it.

"Hey. Nice pants. New?" Vicky asked innocently, drawing attention to Dennis' red t-shirt and black cargo pants that rattled with the wealth of chains, badges, and other assorted knicknacks dangling from it.

"Yeah, I was going for a punk rock look. What do you think? Sex, drugs, rock and roll, right?" The redhead responded cheerfully, lifting a hand that had a black wristband on to form the devil's horns or… whatever the metalheads at school called it.

"I think you look like you'll drop out in third year and do a bunch of pot." Amy said grouchily from off to Vicky's right.

"Looking good, champ." Vicky hastily interjected on her boyfriend's behalf.

Dennis and Dean were friends, and Dean spoke well of the guy so… if Taylor had to date someone she supposed Dennis would be okay.

Assuming Taylor cared to notice.

"Ugh. That's actually what my dad said when I left. I suddenly feel like I messed up." Dennis said with a shiver. Vicky scowled at him.

"Just take the compliment!" She groused.

"We ready to go? What are we doing first?" Taylor asked, having obviously failed to notice the byplay.

Vicky sighed, elbowed her sister in the side, and decided to prod her slightly.

"What do you think of how Dennis looks?" She pressed.

Taylor paused, furrowing her brows in that way she did when she was talking to her power, and then turned to glance at Dennis.

"Cute hair. I like the… frizziness." She tried, before quickly turning away.

Dennis reached up to prod his own head as though trying to determine its status for himself.

Vicky snorted, turning to her sister to make fun of him for the gesture, only to find Amy mimicking his movements, prodding at her own somewhat frizzy brown hair nervously.

Dozens of boring blind dates and polite deflections poured through Victoria's mind in that moment, and she turned a horrified look of realization first on her sister, then Dennis, and then her sister again.

'Ah. Fuuuuuu--'

This was recoverable.

They were currently wandering around the mall, which was full of people, stores and brands she's only dreamed of having easy access to, and more fancy food places than she knew what to do with.

And Vicky wasn't appreciating any of it.

But it was fine. Because this was recoverable. Obviously, all she had to do was back out of supporting Dennis today.

Only she couldn't because she already told her boyfriend she'd help.

But Amy was her sister, so–

"Why aren't there parahuman sports?" Taylor asked out of the blue, distracting her from her musings.

"Because power expression is too diverse. How would you even make rules for that?" Amy said dismissively.

"I dunno, seems easy enough as long as everyone is safe." Taylor said with an unbothered look on her face.

"Yeah, but think of it like this. No matter what rules you make, or game you play, someone is going to have a power so good it breaks the game. I mean, how is anyone supposed to take a ball away from Vicky? She could just fly over everyone and no one could do anything about it." Dennis pointed out.

"Yeah, but wouldn't the enemy team also have a flier? That makes it fair, right?" Taylor posited.

"But Vicky is also a Brute. Our cousin couldn't steal the ball from her if she tried and they could both fly." Amy says.

It abruptly occurred to Vicky that Dennis and Amy were walking on either side of her oblivious friend as though expecting at any moment for her to grab one of their hands, and that Vicky herself had fallen behind the group.

"Doesn't Tay have those 'definitely won't die' tag things? If Crystal could fry me in the air without killing me, she might manage." Vickt contributed.

She'd thought about parahuman sports a lot. With Taylor around, the actual business of being a hero was all but unnecessary, and so she had harkened back to before she got her powers and found - to her great surprise - that she missed sports. She missed basketball. She missed the exhilaration of playing in front of a crowd

It was a pity parahumans weren't allowed in organized sports. She couldn't even lie about it because she was an open cape in the first place.

Everyone knew she had powers.

"That edges pretty close to being a bloodsport though." Dennis pointed out warily.

"Not if you make rules for when it's okay to use offensive powers." Taylor quickly countered.

Vicky knew that tone of voice. It was the tone Taylor got when she was in her manic phase, and was about to do something earth-shaking for fun.

And as much as she loved the idea, she felt like one televised parahuman death match was good enough for today.

Probably seeing the same thing - she had to give it to Dennis, he seemed to have a pretty good grasp on Taylor's character even though they couldn't have spent much time together - Dennis immediately changed the topic.

He just did so in the worst possible way.

"Hey, have you ever had bubble tea? It's like a milkshake but not really, with these little jelly balls in it. I don't know what lychee is, but I'd kill a man for it. We should get some right now!" He quickly blurted out, lifting a hand to point at a kiosk that was dispensing said drink further ahead and reaching down to grab Taylor's hand to drag behind him as he sped towards it.

"…But why is it called tea, then..?" Taylor asked curiously behind him as they vanished into the crowd.

Vicky turned to ask Amy if she had ever tried bubble tea, only to find her sister marching through the crowd like an angry brick wall, forging a straight line through the surprised onlookers as she casually used the fact that she was in costume to force people out of her way.

Vicky made a note to get everyone to go to buy swimsuits, or bras, or something. That should scare Dennis enough for Amy to have some alone time with her… crush.

'Ugh. This is weird. Everything is weird. I just wanted to buy some fancy jeans - why does everything have to be so complicated?' She whined as she hovered up and over the crowd itself.

It didn't take her long to catch up with the trio, and when she arrived, she could only sigh as it was to the sight of a smiling Dennis taking a selfie with Taylor while the latter curiously sipped at her drink.

Amy was visibly seething in the background, clearly waiting for the picture to be taken.

Vicky could only shake her head.

'If I tell her the only way she's got a shot is to just be upfront - will she listen?' She pondered to herself.

Looking down at her sister as she visibly plotted the death of Dennis and his entire lineage, she had a sneaking suspicion the answer would be 'No'.

But weirder things had happened in Brockton Bay - so who knew.

Right?

Next Chapter, RWBY spends the night and the crew goes spelunking for Dust!

Tomorrow is Tuesday, Choose One (1)

[ ] Have Taylor take some time out to fortify the Heap with Onmyoudo.

[ ] Well, you own a majority in a major shipping company - and all you had to do was trade a few favors. You should… probably look into that.

[ ] Write In

[ ] Take Time Off (Pick an Extra Social)

Choose a Social Link:

(These are daily now. You can choose to do group socials on the weekends (Bratpack training montage, family bonding time with the Hebert children, Oathbound poker night, etc))

[ ] Simone (1)

[ ] Yew (0)

[ ] Victoria (2)

[ ] Amy (4)

[ ] Aspirant (2)

[ ] Trainwreck (2)

[ ] Clockblocker (4)

[ ] Parian (2)

[ ] Danny (3)

[ ] Oliver (2)

[ ] Jess (2)

[ ] Mem (3)

[ ] Mun (0)

[ ] Mouse Protector (2)

[ ] Dinah (3)

[ ] Aisha (0)

[ ] Write-In

Authors Note: finally. Tommorow can happen now.

In other news - did you know I have a new quest? I would really appreciate any support you all can provide! Original Stories are hard!

Last edited: Sep 29, 2022

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Bowler Hat Guy

Sep 29, 2022

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Threadmarks Hostile Takeover 18.8

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Oct 5, 2022

#49,105

[X] Well, you own a majority in a major shipping company - and all you had to do was trade a few favors. You should… probably look into that.

[X] Aisha (0)

Current Energy: 7

Current Emulation Status: Here

Tuesday, March 22nd , 2011

Franklin Park Zoo, Boston

"Hey…" Taylor says to you, first thing that morning.

"Mm?" You grunt as wakefulness is abruptly and unwillingly forced onto you.

"How… I mean… how can I be more… responsible?" Your Master asks you with a distinct hint of vulnerability in her tone. She is already dressed in her workout clothes, a simple sweatshirt and pants that it amuses you to note actually has the PRT logo on both.

You know, as opposed to the Oathbound logo, which you happen to know for a fact someone, somewhere in the mall, is selling.

"You're asking me? I don't even know what a healthy human diet looks like. I eat milkshakes and pizza. Literally just those two things. Like a little baby who hates broccoli. This 'me's' idea of being responsible is pawning off a bunch of demon-powered super weapons between jobs so he can afford a pool table and property damage. I'm not even sure I qualify, legally, as having a job. Or an education. Or a driver's license." You say flatly.

One of the zoo alligators you are currently being dangled over lifts its snout to try and bite you, so you gently tap it on the snout.

With your fist.

"Also, you decided to wake me up today by dangling me over the alligator exhibit at a zoo in… looks like Boston? Boston. If you wanna talk responsible…" you trail off.

"Hush. You're a pain to wake up and I need to have a serious conversation with you." Taylor says in a huff, hovering several feet above the exhibit you are dangling over.

"Okay, well, now that I'm awake…" you try weakly.

"You'll just go back to sleep. I'm serious, Emmy. I thought things were going fine, but now it feels like everyone I talk to is just waiting for me to do something. All the time. Like… there's the expectation that any day now I'll 'get bored' and go hunt down the Blasphemies or something." Taylor says with some frustration.

"I'm confused. Are you trying to be responsible like a normal adult who remembers to brush their teeth every day, or responsible like Spiderman?" You question her sagely.

"Spider… who? I dunno… both? I'm happy with how things are now, though! It's- I mean, it's a little chaotic, but… not in a bad way." She says fondly.

"Taylor, you're…" you say then pause, as you mentally jostle things around so that more of 'Emmy' is present and less of 'Dante' is.

"You're… fifteen. I don't know a better way to explain this. I… I scan people. So many people. It's my thing. Normally for fifteen year olds, their biggest worry is usually acne, or homework, or something. You've got me, so you're obviously better than a normal teenager, but you're still basically just a teenager. What other people want from you is… well, it's other people's problem." You explain with as much sincerity as you can manage while being circled by hungry lizards.

"You're biased, though." Taylor counters sourly.

"Yeah, cus I'm family. That's how you know I'm always on your side." You say brightly.

"I- I meant 'cus you're my power, stupid. But.. thanks." Taylor says, her voice remaining entirely neutral, even though an outpouring of what you can only describe a 'Happy-Cry' washes off of her through your link. She gently lifts the magical arm she is holding you with, and places you on the invisible platform she is sitting on to sit next to her.

"You're welcome. You can let it out, you know. I don't think that power is supposed to be used this way."

You suggest, slinging an arm over her shoulder and pulling her into a hug.

"Yeah, but then I'll start crying like a little girl, cus I mean, you know, I think that's the first time you ever said we were family." She grumbles at you.

"Taylor, you are a little girl." You point out.

"A littler girl. Why do you smell like cigarettes? You don't even smoke." She complains as your hug places her face in proximity to your jacket.

"Probably from all the times this guy's been set on fire. I'm like, billions of years old, you know. I probably existed before your species did. It's okay to cry, I promise. Maybe next guy I'll get someone a little more versed in being a functional adult. For now, just… be a kid. Do kid shit." You say blandly, taking on a far away look as you ponder - for perhaps the first time since the childhood of your current emulation. His struggles with what it means to be human, and his outrage at the monsters that destroy that fragile humanity.

You wonder, if the real Dante were present, whether he would see you as a kindred spirit - or just another one of the things that go bump in the night.

"Stupid." Taylor mumbles under her breath.

You spend the majority of your morning sitting quietly and cozily like that, with only the occasional aside to talk about something asinine.

And if your Master did a bit more complaining, and cried a little bit along the way, well...

The alligators aren't telling anyone, and neither are you.

Tuesday, March 22nd , 2011

Winslow High School, Brockton Bay

"Everyone, we have a few new students today!" Glenn or Mister G or whatever-his-name says pleasantly as you walk into class to invisibly follow Taylor around.

Mostly so you can annoy her while she studies.

You know you sort of swore to make sure no one was bullied or anything, but at this point the job kind of does itself. The culture of 'don't fuck around, and you won't have to find out' is all pervasive at Winslow nowadays, not the least of which reason being that the Panda Gang kids can, and will, just drag anyone who doesn't comply out the back and beat them.

Is it totalitarian? Yes. Is it a horrible social model, complete with what are essentially secret police to punish evildoers? Also yes.

But you are a benevolent dictator, and after days of invisibly watching them, you are confident that Michael and Jun have things under control and are not abusing their power.

That confidence is, perhaps, bolstered by the fact that they know you are watching at least half the time, of course.

Always keep them guessing, as the saying goes.

You're sure Taylor would be horrified by the situation, since it means she functionally runs the school via a gang as her proxy - buuuuut you don't see anyone complaining, except, well...

Bullies.

"How much do you wanna bet it's some rich kids here to suck up to you?" Greg asks lazily from next to Taylor - still being the only person willing to enter her personal space, and therefore, sit anywhere within a desk of her.

You actually think this class might exist solely to contain your Master at this point.

"Doubt it. How's…" Taylor says with a shrug before hesitantly beginning to ask a question. You assume she was about to surreptitiously ask Greg how his relationship is going, seeing as he is ostensibly dating her daughter.

But she is interrupted by three people tromping into the room and standing in front of the class.

"You can find seats at the back there, next to-" Mister G begins to say, casually directing the three of them to take seats.

This is America. People don't introduce themselves at the start of a new class here - they just join the class like they were already there and make their social connections like anyone else.

Apparently no one told these three this, or more likely, at least one of them simply doesn't care.

Gram is pig-headed like that.

"My name is Gram Hebert. I believe you all have class with my mo- cousin. My cousin. I have come to live an enriching school life with my boyfriend - Greg. Hi Greg!" Gram stoically and professionally explains, before breaking down into childish giggles and excitedly jumping and waving at Greg when she finally turns her attention to him.

The jumping does things to her figure that the rest of the students seemingly find very interesting, given the fact that most of the teenagers in the class boggle at her in stupefaction, disbelief, or just choke on their own spit, while several groups of them start whispering furiously at each other and gesticulating in a way eerily reminiscent of what you experienced during your time as Sigurd. The excessive reactions kinda remind you of what your Master experienced after she gained Divinity. Maybe it's hereditary? Something to look into later.

Meanwhile, Gram doesn't seem to notice any of this, or more likely, just doesn't care, too busy ogling Greg. At least she changed her hair to white for this, so she probably isn't outing the poor guy.

Probably.

Greg whimpers, his skin rapidly growing several shades paler, and not via use of his power.

"…Sorry." Taylor whispers to him under her breath, suppressing her own embarrassment on the topic.

"It's… it's so much worse than you think." He hisses back while forcing his face into the rictus of a smile.

"How could this possibly-" Taylor shoots back with some annoyance.

"My name is Lisa Wilbourn. I'm here against my will and I'm 'not' dating Greg, the same way I'm 'not' dating his girlfriend. Please help." The exhausted blond girl with the dead-eyed stare that had been standing next to Gram pipes up.

"Ooooh." Taylor mutters in realization, even as most of the class turn to stare at Greg.

"I want to die." Greg says plainly and at normal conversational volume. His expression has morphed into one of severe boredom, and the look in his eyes seems closer to that of someone who has just left a warzone than anything else.

"What, us two aren't good enough so you have to go for Nexus too? Greg, you dog!" Lisa - Tattletale, really, says aloud, at exactly the right volume to be heard by your surroundings, but quiet enough that she could reasonably argue she didn't intend to be overheard.

"Why?!" Greg begs her, lunging to his left to clamp a hand over her mouth. She takes on a briefly displeased look at the contact, before gently pulling his hand away from her with two dainty fingers.

"I wasn't lying about not wanting to be here. I don't know how, but I blame you for this." She hisses at him.

"Oh, grow up. I think you look very cute like this. Right, dear?" Gram says warmly, plopping herself down directly behind Greg and reaching out to prod at his back like a cat with a new toy.

"You can't just compliment me constantly and assume you can worm your way into my good graces like that. I'm not here because you asked." Lisa spits at her.

"But you are here." She says triumphantly.

"Because you convinced the boss to pay me to do it!" Lisa returns through grit teeth.

"I seem to remember you saying previously that 'you weren't some whore who will do anything for a paycheque'." Gram immediately fires back smugly.

"Greg, control your sw- girlfriend." Lisa growls.

"Honey, our girlfriend is being mean to me!" Gram faux cries.

"This is hell." Greg states, a placid smile and a thousand-yard stare on his face, looking the perfect picture of a man who has accepted his death and is merely awaiting his end.

'Glad that's not our problem.' You opine silently to your Master.

'Yeah. They're somehow even weirder than I am. N-not that I ever act weird at school!' Taylor responds.

"Miss Hebert?" The teacher calls, drawing Taylors attention back to the front of the class.

You and Taylor both turn to stare at the last student to enter the room, who you assumed was normal enough not to cause a ruckus, but who had - against all odds - opted to not only stay at the front of the class instead of sitting down, but had written a grouping of chinese characters you couldn't read on the blackboard and turned to stare expectantly and obviously at Taylor until she had finally deigned to pay attention to him.

If you had to describe the guy in one word it would be… 'pretty'. His thin asian features, pale skin, and obviously well cared for skin and hair make him look more like a magazine model than a human being, an effect that is only reinforced by his perfectly tailored outfit and the determined set of his face.

In truth, you are only sure it is a he at all because of his body shape, so maybe you're completely wrong somehow.

"My name is Zhang Haoran." The boy says in a polite but oddly lyrical tone of voice.

"My father is a highly placed official in my home country, and has placed me personally in charge of several of our family's companies. I am outstanding in every field I care to try. If I am not worthy of your time then no other need dare apply!" He says in a prideful but not aggressive sounding voice.

"Sorry, I'm-" Taylor begins to say, likely foreseeing what he is about to say next.

"Others may not dare to pursue you for fear of your wrath, but they are not me. I respect your wish for space, and you are under no obligation to me- but I have come here for one reason and one reason only!" Haoran declares, cutting her off.

"Nexus. You are a font from which true martial arts culture can be once more renewed. Return to my homeland with me, where you will be respected for your skills - not your power!" He says haughtily.

"Uh…" Taylor stutters, seemingly paralyzed by pure embarrassment.

"She's not interested." You say, appearing behind her like the specter of death.

Haoran's eyes immediately snap up to look at you.

"Then…" he says pensively before marching up to stand next to your Master.

Where he gets on his knees and places his forehead on the ground by her feet.

"Please take me as your student, Hebert-shi!" He yells.

Taylor stares at him blankly for a few seconds, then slowly pans her head up to shoot you an expectant look, like she expects you to solve the problem for her.

Which you could, but… this is honestly kind of entertaining, so you'll let it sit. It's not like the kid is hurting anyone.

Seeing you fail to assist her, she briefly turns her gaze first on her class - who is watching with bated breath, like this is a soap opera or something - then Gram, Greg, and Lisa, who seem equally unsure of how she should respond.

Well. Lisa looks like she knows, but would never willingly explain.

At length, your Master eventually makes the only decision that has never failed her.

She gets up, opens a Gap in the middle of the classroom, and turns to yell at the teacher before abruptly jumping through it.

"I have to go to the bathroom forever now." She blurts out before stepping through the Gap, which actually closes before you can get into it after her.

"Huh." You mutter, before you are abruptly dismembered at the molecular level and reassembled in the middle of Trainwreck's garage.

"-and I have no idea how I'm supposed to go to school with him there!" Taylor screeches loudly as you reform.

"Just tell him to get fucked! Fuck him! How's this one?" Trainwreck responds, and you tilt your head to find him yanking metal ties out of a pile nearby and holding them up to a black and white version of his power armor that is clearly designed to look as much like a normal suit and tie as physically possible.

"Okay, but he was actually really polite and just wanted to be my… student, I think? And I liked the other one more." Taylor demurs slightly, before shaking her head at his selection.

"The checkered one? But it's… so nerdy." He responds as though offended.

"Yeah, but- You know I could probably figure out a temporary fix for you, right? I know Amy said Fifty-Threes just change back from any transformation, but it only has to last one night." Taylor says pointedly.

"Yeah, but if she don't love me for my pseudopods, then what's the point? I got money and fame and shit now. I could walk into the street and throw a rock, and probably hit a woman who would rub olive oil on my dumb tentacled ass all night. That ain't what I'm after." He says with a shy shrug.

"Okay…" Taylor says slowly.

"But I wouldn't say no to access to my own dick after date three or four, if you know what I mean." He adds with a lurid smile.

"Ew." Taylor responds instantly, wrinkling her nose at him.

"You'll understand when you're older." He says with a shrug.

"Oh I understand, it's just gross." She responds primly, sticking her tongue out at him.

Then she sighs.

"I… should go back to class, shouldn't I?" She grumbles.

"Or..!" You interject. She lifts the patented Hebert eyebrow in your general direction.

"...We could go bug Aisha." You say proudly.

"...Shouldn't she also be in school?" Taylor asks pointedly.

"If that girl is in school right now, I'll eat my own foot. I'm being serious. It'll grow back but I'll cut it off right now." You say confidently.

"I got that action. I'm with him. Ten bucks." Trainwreck says immediately.

"You both suck." Your Master sighs, making a small Gap, sticking her hand in it, and retrieving a ten dollar bill.

Six minutes of searching later, and you are entirely unsurprised to find Aisha sleeping in the kitchen.

Tuesday, March 22nd , 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

"I still don't understand why I had to be here for this." Aisha complains.

"Emmy wanted to talk to Array, and I felt bad for yesterday." Taylor says with a shrug. She walks a tiny circuit around the room in the Heap you are currently in - Mem's workshop in the basement - then stops in front of Dinah, reaching out to readjust the bowler hat on her head.

"Okay, cool - Can I request ice cream? A pizza party? Ponies? I don't get why you'd bring us to a boring meeting with the board of directors for a company you bought for fun." Aisha continues to complain loudly.

"She's paying us for protection!" Dinah says brightly, simply happy to be here.

"Not that she needs it…" Mun grumbles from on top of Mem's head, looking quite comfortable in her bird form. You wonder if Mem is simply very good at not swiveling her neck, or if there's some kind of magic involved there.

"I believe the prestige is the point." Mem opines, flipping idly through one of her binders full of spells. The word 'Rampage' is scrawled on the cover of the binder in black permanent marker, which is… concerning.

"Bullshit! I bet you could just ask for money and she'd give it to you!" Aisha snaps.

"Do I get paid?" Array asks from your lap, tilting her small badger-like head up and back until she is looking at your face. Everyone in the room pauses to turn to you as though the question is for some reason surprising.

"Sure, kiddo. Don't see why not." You respond lazily, stretching a hand out to grab a slice of pizza off a nearby workbench and pulling a piece of pepperoni off of it to proffer to your daughter before taking a bite of the slice.

"Why are you complaining, anyway? We get to be cool and get paid." Dinah points out with a frown.

"Cus it's gonna be boring! We're just going to stand in the hall for two hours and then go home!" Aisha responds angrily.

"We can sword fight some when we're done? Maybe I could take you guys out for… training?" Taylor offers carefully, glancing around the room as though expecting the response everyone else tends to give her when she mentions training.

Mostly just flinching and running away, at this point.

"You have to promise!" Aisha blurts out immediately.

"Sorry?" Taylor asks, somewhat taken back.

"Promise. Swear on, uh, Emmy's life that you'll train us." Aisha insists.

"I'm definitely not doing that, but I promise, okay?" Taylor responds quickly, glancing at you. You just shrug. Your life isn't worth much anyway. At least, in a general sense. It's not like anything on this planet has the power to actually kill you.

"…Fine. How long do we have to wait here, then?" Aisha asks eventually, crossing her arms in front of her and tapping her boot impatiently.

"Oh, we can go whenever. I think they've been waiting for about fifteen minutes now." Taylor says with a shrug.

Aisha pauses in her foot tapping and turns her head to stare at your Master.

"…Why make them wait?" She asks curiously, as though expecting a profound answer of some sort.

"They're big business corporate types. I don't respect them." Taylor says bluntly, opening a Gap and gesturing for everyone to line up and step through it.

"I don't get it." Array whispers up to you as you stand and place her on your shoulder.

"They have a lot of money they don't use to help anyone, so she's bullying them." You explain to her.

"Ooooh." Array says, nodding along with you.

"Hey! Stop corrupting her!" Aisha barks at you, snatching the fuzzy creature off your shoulder.

"She's my daughter." You point out.

"She's my power!" Aisha snaps back at you.

"Oh, come on! We're friends, aren't we?" You say with a winning smile that makes Aisha flinch.

Your smile becomes a frown.

"Your dad's old and stupid right now, 'kay? Just ignore him till he's someone cooler." Aisha says to Array.

"'Kay!" Your daughter cheers back at her.

"Aisha? Hey! We're friends, right!?" You demand as she steps through the Gap without answering you.

"Taylor, can you believe this? My own kid-" You grumble, turning to observe your Master just in time for her to hug Mem, then usher her through the Gap.

"Kids are like that sometimes." She says, even though the look in her eyes is smug and mocking in equal measure.

"I'll remember this next time Simone starts messing with you, you know." You say with narrowed eyes as the rest of the kids tromp through the portal.

"I think I'll live." Taylor says dryly as the two of you follow after Aisha and the others.

"Sorry I kept everyone waiting!" Taylor says loudly and with uncharacteristic boisterousness in her tone as she slams the double doors of the meeting room open and strides forward.

Only to pause when the long wooden table in the center of the room only has one person sitting at it.

There are other people in the room, that's true, but they're all… odd. They look less like the corpulent business types you'd expect to see at a board meeting, and more like strung-out street punks in suits. And they are standing, six to each wall, with their hands politely clasped in front of themselves, staring blankly ahead at… well, at their opposite wall counterparts, you suppose.

"Wow, okay, this? This is way more interesting than I thought it was gonna be. I lied, I don't wanna stay in the hall anymore." Aisha says quickly, gesturing loosely at the rest of her team to remain behind as she steps through the door after Taylor with Array lounging across her shoulders and neck like a mink scarf.

"Sure. Hey, are you gonna say 'Hi', or do you need us to wait for you to do the 'slow turn around in the swivel chair' supervillain thing?" Taylor calls out to the only seated person in the room - who is coincidentally in a high-backed swivel chair on the opposite end of the board room. Counter to her words, she seems drastically more interested in this than she had been previously - which just goes to show that your Master and Aisha aren't honestly all that different as people.

You feel like the people of Brockton Bay would be uncomfortable with 'another Nexus' around, though.

"Heh. Straight to the point then." The man in the chair says, spinning around to observe the two girls. The first thing you note about him is his mask. That would be obvious for most capes, but in this situation, the mask is almost the only thing on him that marks him as a cape at all. It is a leering, sneering thing, made of an expensive looking lacquered wood, and his dark hair hangs about it in an almost intentionally messy fashion that frames the mask itself perfectly.

And other than that? He's just wearing a suit. And rings. A lot of rings. Like a pimp that accidentally found himself in a boardroom.

"I'm sure you can guess why I'm here… Nexus." He says in a growly smoker's voice that bears a superficial resemblance to something elegant and nothing more.

"Nope. Don't even know who you are. That's actually pretty impressive, 'cus people usually at least manage to make me notice them before picking a fight with me." Taylor says chipperly, before pausing to add; "And where are the other guys anyway?"

"Heh. There are no others. You and I are equal shareholders of this business. I went through a lot of trouble to set this meeting up, so you might as well sit down. Have a drink. I just want to talk. I promise." The man says with an even tone that speaks volumes of how in control he obviously thinks he is of the situation.

"I'm good. Saber?" Taylor asks, turning to eye Aisha questioningly.

"Gimme a second, doing a thing." Aisha says hurriedly, waving her off. Taylor shrugs and turns back to the table.

"So? Do you wanna monologue now, or later?" She asks curiously.

"I am not- this is not a game, Nexus. And I am very serious about business." He says, pointedly stopping to hold a hand out so one of the people standing by the walls can step forward and deposit a tumbler of liquor in his hand.

He lifts the glass to his mask, whose lips part slightly as though it is alive, and takes a long sip of the amber beverage, before speaking again.

'Dramatic bitch.' Taylor grumbles.

'Just let him get it out of his system and if you're lucky, he'll try to attack you so you can beat him up guilt free.' You suggest.

"My name, if you are unaware, is Bastard Son. And-" He begins only for Aisha to interrupt him.

"Next he's gonna say, 'And I have come to give you a warning'." She says in an overly exaggerated deep voice.

Bastard Son turns to stare at her for a moment, before opting to ignore her and continuing.

"…and yes, I have come to give you a warning." He says slowly.

""It has come to my attention that Uppercrust will shortly be-"" he pauses as he realizes that Aisha is perfectly mimicking what he is saying, at the same time he says it, before visibly gritting his teeth and continuing.

""…will shortly be arriving to request healing from YOU. I suggest you refuse."" He finishes, randomly changing his pitch and the speed he is speaking at in an attempt to throw Aisha off.

It doesn't work, and the result is the comical scene of an obvious villain sounding like a petulant child the longer he speaks.

"I see. Well, as joint owner or whatever of the company, I'll take your words under advisement." Taylor says dryly.

""Heh. That is all that… I ask."" He growls, moving to stand up.

"Where are you going? This is a board meeting. I have business stuff to figure out." Taylor says sharply as he gets ready to leave.

""Away. From her. Before I do something unfortunate."" He growls, perfectly mirrored by Aisha.

"He's telling the truth, too. That one over there kills me like half the time if you make him stay another minute." Aisha drawls, lazily pointing at a random attendant.

"What?" Taylor asks, not being personally aware of exactly how Aisha's power actually works beyond it being vaguely precognitive.

"I didn't bother simulating you helping me fight. No point." Aisha explains with a shrug.

"I have so many questions. We are going to do so much training." Taylor says with barely restrained glee that Aisha quickly matches.

You could almost imagine them actually squealing with joy if they were in any other situation.

Two teenage girls talking about violently mangling each other the same way they would excitedly discuss a cute dress. Truly, the world you live in is bizarre.

The pair get so distracted that they either don't notice - or really care - when Bastard Son angrily gets to his feet and leads his minions out of the room.

That's fine. You're sure you'll meet him again. And if he's really lucky?

He'll have realized he picked the wrong cape to try to bully, by then.

Then again, maybe he'll actually be a challenge. Taylor was starting to seem like she needed worthy opponents, anyway.

Tomorrow is Wednesday, Choose Two (2)

[ ] Begin Training (Choose a skill or power)

[ ] Have Taylor take some time out to fortify the Heap with Onmyoudo.

[ ] Write In

[ ] Take Time Off (Pick an Extra Social)

Choose a Social Link:

(These are daily now. You can choose to do group socials on the weekends (Bratpack training montage, family bonding time with the Hebert children, Oathbound poker night, etc))

[ ] Simone (1)

[ ] Yew (0)

[ ] Victoria (2)

[ ] Amy (4)

[ ] Aspirant (2)

[ ] Trainwreck (2)

[ ] Clockblocker (4)

[ ] Parian (2)

[ ] Danny (3)

[ ] Oliver (2)

[ ] Jess (2)

[ ] Mem (3)

[ ] Mun (0)

[ ] Mouse Protector (2)

[ ] Dinah (3)

[ ] Aisha (1)

[ ] Write-In

A/N: I realize I forgot to acknowledge training last go round because I forgot you've completed swordmaster already, so just this once, to make up for it, the next thing you train will be trained as though you had also trained it during this update. Call it a moral bonus.

Last edited: Oct 17, 2022

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Bowler Hat Guy

Oct 5, 2022

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Oct 8, 2022

#49,249

[X] Begin Training (Choose a skill or power)

-[X] Gunslinger Skill

[X] Mun (0)

[X] Victoria (2)

Current Energy: 6

Current Emulation Status: Here

Current Training: Gunslinger Skill (0/10) - (Complete!)

Wednesday, March 23rd , 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

"I am so sorry!" Your Master says.

"Nah, it's fine sis. We had fun checking the city out. It's nice here." Yang waves her off, the blond having kicked her feet up on top of the kitchen table. You are pretty that your Master would normally reprimand her for that, but given the circumstances, you doubt she will.

"It is not 'fine', Yang! We have missed two days of school already!" Weiss growls back at her as your Master swiftly moves around the table to place a plate of breakfast food in front of her.

"I know, and I am so sorry for forgetting, I just- there was a lot after the opening and-" Taylor blurts out again, more nervous-sounding this time. Today her dresser had refused to allow her preferred sweatpants and sweatshirt combination, so she was standing in the kitchen wearing a brown skirt, black leggings, flats, and a black turtleneck sweater. A white apron covered in pink hearts that you know she never would have chosen for herself rests atop her clothing, and her long white hair is pulled up onto a loose ponytail behind her that swishes too and fro like a cat's tail as she moves about.

She looks equal measures miserable and apologetic.

"At least we didn't melt." Blake interrupts her, unbuttoning the top button of her shirt to show the tiny gap still swirling around the base of her neck.

Much like all of the members of team RWBY, she is presently waiting patiently for Taylor to serve her breakfast, and is wearing the kind of simple sleepwear you'd expect more on a geriatric old man than a teenage girl.

"Melt!?" Weiss yelps in horror.

"I wasn't worried. I bet it wouldn't even hurt, so it's not like you'd notice." Yang points out.

"Oh, it hurts. Like being on fire - but there's no nerve damage to numb the pain." You chime in from where your Master has stationed you to mix pancake batter for the morning.

"How… How do you know what it feels like to be on fire?" Ruby asks you shrewdly.

"You meet one demon, you've met 'em all." You answer with a shrug.

"MELT!?" Weiss repeats.

"Yes, Weisscream, melt. Didn't she tell us we'd need to keep these things on to make sure we didn't kick the bucket over here?" Yang says with a snort, lifting a hand and wiggling her fingers to highlight the small gap on her wrist.

"At no point was the specific word 'melt' used during that explanation! Why are you all so calm about this?!" Weiss demands, standing and banging her palms on the table.

It's designed for Trainwreck to be able to eat at, however, so no one present is really all that worried about it being damaged.

Ruby quietly stretches a hand out to try to steal a pancake from the white haired girl's plate, but when it is rather brutally struck aside, she, Yang, and Blake all share a look with each other, before turning back to their teammate.

"I mean… we didn't, right? Melt, I mean." Ruby points out.

"That's not- I don't- just… just finish eating so we can go home, please. No offense, Taylor, but I think I hate it here." Weiss deflates, falling back into her chair with a sigh.

"It was one of the worst cities in America for a while, so that's fair." Taylor says with a shrug.

"Actually, what is uh, America?" Ruby asks.

"The continent we're on, I think. I saw a travel brochure that said this is 'the Americas'." Blake supplies.

"So like, we're in America right now? Is it like Vale? Kingdom of Vale, City of Vale?" She continues.

"This… 'America' reminds me a bit too much of home, there's probably a few cities. I guess this is the capital?" Weiss offers tentatively.

"The United States of America has fifty states, within each of which, dozens to hundreds of similar cities to this one exist. Each city with populations numbering in the millions. And the United States is just one of the… hundred and ninety - I think? - countries in the world. Morning." Mun asks, having walked into the room just a moment ago, already fully dressed for school, and opted to merely wait by the doorway for a pause in the conversation.

"Hundreds..?" Weiss mutters in disbelief, her eyes dilating, an expression that looks as if her brain was exploding in real time on her face.

"It's four in the morning. Why aren't you in bed?" Taylor asks flatly.

"…I wanted to train?." The wily girl says defensively.

"At four AM?" Taylor presses.

"Hey! Don't sweat the small stuff. I nearly punched you when you woke me up. Maybe she's just an early riser. Quick question, though-" Yang adds, rising from her seat to crouch in front of the much shorter Mun with a curious expression.

"HUNDREDS!?"

"What's your exact relationship with my sister? Heard some stuff while we were out on the town, yesterday." She continues, ignoring Weiss' breakdown.

"When I first got one of my powers, I-" Taylor starts to explain.

"She's my mom." Mun interjects blandly, shooting a smug look at Taylor as she does so.

She and Yang stare at each other for several seconds, until Yang's mouth slowly curls into a wide, smug smile, lifting a thumb to point at herself.

"That makes me and Rubes your aunts, then." She says with suddenly rising glee, before turning to look at Taylor with a playful smile on her face.

"And I am gonna be such a bad influence." She adds.

"Please don't." Blake says tiredly.

"Come on! Hey, so, you wanna ride my motorcycle? Ever shot a gun before?" Yang quickly asks Mun, whirling back around to face her.

"Yang?" Ruby questions hesitantly from behind her.

"…I have never wanted anything else more in my life, aunty… Xiao-Long?" Mun puts forth experimentally.

"Awesome! But just Yang is fine." Yang says, reaching a hand out to ruffle Mun's hair at about the same time as Taylor's hand lands on Yang's own head.

Although Taylor's grip is much less an enthusiastic 'head pat', and more 'eagle's claw'.

"How would Simone put it..?" Tayor asks idly, tilting her head with a beatific smile on her face that does nothing a smile is supposed to do.

Like being comforting.

"Ah. Sister dearest. Mind yourself, okay?" She says pleasantly.

There is a short silence, wherein Yang seems to do her utmost to remove the hand from her head - and fails.

At which point Blake finally speaks up again.

"I dunno," she says, eyeing the frustrated red sheen to Yang's face as she ineffectually grapples with your Master.

"I think I kind of like it here, all of a sudden." She finishes in a dark, joking tone.

Wednesday, March 23rd , 2011

Winslow Highschool, Brockton Bay

"Student greets Hebert-shi!" Zhang Haoran - you know Asia has that weird reverse name thing, but you don't know which one is his last name in that case - declares loudly, proudly, and obtrusively from directly in front of the school.

"I didn't accept you as my student, though? Look, I'm actually kind of busy right now anyway, so why don't you learn from Jamie here instead?" She suggests tiredly, gesturing at Jaime to her left, having brought him to school with her.

As it turns out, as Dust mines go, Brockton is practically sitting on top of a gold mine. This is both good and… kind of bad. Mostly because unworked Dust is tremendously unstable, and the predominant flavor of Dust sitting beneath the bay is Fire Dust.

To hear Weiss tell it, and she had been very adamant about this; trying to mine the Dust under the bay without some of the best equipment ever designed for the task would likely result in failure.

And also a city-sized crater where Brockton once was.

So at this point, getting the stuff stabilized and mined properly is less about profits and new technologies - and more about moving a very large bomb.

Needless to say, your Master isn't very pleased by the idea of having to go back to Remnant to negotiate for that technology - with Weiss' father.

Even if she is fairly certain that the spells she cast on the area to contain everything will hold for at least a little while.

"Apologies, Hebert-shi, but this Zhang Haoran has no interest in learning from someone with less attainment than himself!" Zhang Haoran says loudly, clasping his hands together and bowing apologetically.

Jamie and Taylor… pause to share a look with one another, before they both - being very accustomed to ignoring strange people by now - opt to shrug and walk away. Taylor hurries through the front door of the school, but - and you only notice this because you always trail slightly behind her - Jamie pauses in the doorway, blocking Zhang Haoran from following after Taylor.

"Please move." Haoran says politely but succinctly, his voice completely losing the simpering quality it had when he addressed your Master.

"Of course. Please tell me one thing, though." Aspirant says with a bored expression on his face.

"Make it quick. Laoshi dislikes being disturbed once class begins." Zhang responds bluntly and rudely.

"Very well. Then tell me, how is it that we are in a school right now, but you still haven't managed to learn respect for your betters?" Aspirant - definitely The Aspirant and not mere Jamie - questions the young man in front of him.

Whose face stiffens with fury at the accusation.

"You are the product of random happenstance and biological lottery. Your power does not make you better than me at the martial arts, parahuman." Haoran declares, spitting the last word as though it were an insult.

"You are correct. What makes me better than you, is my teacher. I trust you know where to find me, should you take offense. Taylor would dislike it if she had to heal you on school grounds. I will even give you a handicap - and not use my powers." Jamie says, relaxing his posture and tone as he steps out of the other boy's way.

"You are very talkative for a mere follower." Haoran says with a snort as he passes, then becomes visibly put off when Jamie just chuckles lightly at him and shoots a longing look at the hallway.

"That is where you are wrong. I don't follow. I aspire." He says solemnly, and the words have a sound to them that smacks of an oft-repeated mantra more than anything else.

"Aspire to be out of my way faster, then." Haoran huffs, speeding up slightly to get away from Jamie.

"…I had already moved. You could have just walked away." Jamie counters, speeding up to keep pace with him.

"And allow you the last word? Never." Haoran growls, breaking into a light jog.

"How childish." Jamie grunts as he increases his walking pace to match the jog.

"You're childish! Your whole family is childish!" Haoran snaps back.

"My mother and father-"

You can't help but guffaw at the pair, as they half-sprint around a corner and out of sight.

Well. At least Jamie has a school friend besides Taylor now.

Sort of.

Wednesday, March 23rd , 2011

The Beach (Formerly Boat Graveyard), Brockton Bay

"Come on, just look at them!" Vicky whines as she and your Master flit through the air over the bay.

"I really don't want to though…" Taylor grumbles.

"You owe me, Taylor! You promised!" Vicky says firmly.

"But they're so big!" Taylor complains some more.

"That's the best kind!" Vicky counters.

"Ugh. Fine, just… let me make a table or something…" Taylor finally grumbles in response.

"Yes! I swear you won't regret this. It's gonna be crazy fun, I can tell!" Vicky insists excitedly, reaching under her costume.

"Yeah, yeah…" Taylor grumbles as she conjures a fluorescent blue table in the air between them that Vicky promptly slaps a notebook down on. She quickly riffles the pages to demonstrate that they are all absolutely packed with text, before opening the book to its first page.

"Okay so, I call it Paraball." She begins, before proceeding to provide a forty minute description of a theoretical sport played entirely by Parahumans for entertainment.

Taylor follows along well enough - she's smart enough for that - but not being someone who enjoyed sports in the first place, and furthermore, inherently disliking a sport where there is no fighting, you can tell that she is marshaling her interest purely for her friend's sake.

"So? Whatcha think?" Vicky asks expectantly.

Taylor pauses for a moment as though in thought, before finally speaking.

"Does it have to be called Paraball?" She tries.

"Duh! Parahumans playing ball! It writes itself!" Vicky says proudly.

"Why not, I dunno… Parabellum?" Taylor offers.

"The math thing? What does that have to do with this?" Vicky asks before getting a horrified look on her face. "Taylor, I love you like a sister, but please don't add math to my sports."

"What? No! And how would you even count the score without–Look, Parabellum is part of a latin phrase. It basically means 'Prepare for War'. Cus it's like… training, right?" Taylor explains, lazily leaning back in the air as though a reclining chair were situated beneath her. Vicky rotates sideways and props her head up with her fist as if lying in the floor to match the casual posture.

"Sounds a little… violent?" Vicky offers.

"I mean, my first choice was Murderball, so…" Taylor responds.

"Noooope. Absolutely not. Come oooon, I haven't played sports in ages! I'm not allowed on any teams! Think of all the good you could do giving Parahumans with nothing better to do, an outlet for their energy!" Vicky urges her.

"Can I keep the notebook? Maybe I can… workshop it?" Taylor offers.

"Well…" Vicky says thoughtfully, picking up the notebook and holding it out to Taylor, only to snatch it back from her before she can grab it.

"Only if you promise to actually think about it. Come on, I can't even fight with you anymore. Don't you think it'd be fun to have some rules to make things challenging for you again? Think about it! World's first Paraball team, Nexus, Glory Girl, Panacea, between two and five other people who matter less than us…" Vicky presses.

"Okay, alright, geeze. Are you ready to help me with this now?" Taylor says with a tired sigh that nonetheless communicates her deep and abiding love of her friend.

"Suuuuure. Um… are you sure it's safe?" Vicky asks as you appear next to Taylor - using her air platform to stand - and hand each girl one of your guns.

"Yeah, totally, probably, maybe." You say with a roguish smile that earns you a wrinkling of the nose from the blond.

"It might be safe or you might be sure?" She asks hesitantly.

"You know the deal, right? She's gonna shoot you, and you gotta do your best to shoot what she shoots down before it hits you." You explain to Taylor, ignoring Vicky's question entirely.

"Yeah I just have to-"

"You mean shoot me back, right?" Vicky interjects quickly.

You turn to stare at her.

"No, that'd be too easy. She has to shoot your bullets with her bullets." You repeat for clarity.

"That- That's insane! Can you even do that?!" Vicky demands angrily.

"Sure, easy." You say with a shrug.

"Then why do you need me?" She demands.

"Oh, that was… that was me. I umm... missed you." Taylor admits sheepishly. It's very cute to see her admitting that, if you are being honest.

Of course, then Vicky has to go and ruin it by asking an awkward question.

"Missed you too, girl! By the way, I know I mentioned a blind date a while back, but like, I dunno if I'm supposed to be trying to find you a girlfriend or a boyfriend…" Vicky responds, before surreptitiously asking.

"I- that- I'm gonna go over there so you can shoot me with a real actual gun now, okay!?" Taylor blurts out, abruptly leaping far enough away that you discorporate.

Well. Someday she'll answer that million-dollar question.

Definitely.

Probably.

…Maybe.

Tomorrow is Thursday, Choose Two (2)

[ ] Begin Training (Choose a skill or power)

[ ] Have Taylor take some time out to fortify the Heap with Onmyoudo.

[ ] Mem approaches Taylor to ask for help with a big special project to help Dinah and Mun. Something about Odin, a crystal ball and a bird mask, and needing some Dust, thousands of feathers and... one of her eyeballs?

[ ] In order to start mining the Dust under the bay, Taylor will have to negotiate with Weiss' father for equipment. He's not known to be a pleasant man to deal with. Joy.

[ ] Write In

[ ] Take Time Off (Pick an Extra Social)

Choose a Social Link (these are daily now):

Taylor's parents:

[ ] Danny (3)

[ ] Jess (2)

[ ] Mouse Protector (2)

The Oathbound:

[ ] Trainwreck (2)

[ ] Aspirant (2)

[ ] Parian (2)

[ ] Oliver (2)

The Bratpack:

[ ] Aisha (1)

[ ] Dinah (3)

Taylor's kids:

[ ] Mem (3)

[ ] Mun (1)

[ ] Simone (1)

[ ] Yew (0)

[ ] Gram (0)

Taylor's friends:

[ ] Victoria (3)

[ ] Amy (4)

[ ] Clockblocker (4)

BONUS POINTS: Can you create an adequately succinct ruleset for Paraball!? Maybe a better name!?

Winning idea's provider gets to choose one Devil Arm of their choice off of Dante's character sheet to pass down to Taylor for free upon his swap out.

[ ] Write-In

448

Bowler Hat Guy

Oct 8, 2022

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Threadmarks Hostile Takeover 18.10

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Oct 17, 2022

#49,417

[X] In order to start mining the Dust under the bay, Taylor will have to negotiate with Weiss' father for equipment. He's not known to be a pleasant man to deal with. Joy

[X] Begin Training (Swordsmanship)

[X] Yew (0)

Current Energy: 5

Current Emulation Status: Here

Current Training: Swordsmanship Skill (0/10) - (7/10)

Thursday, March 24th , 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

"This isn't swordsmanship!" Taylor screams at you frustratedly as you complete a Stinger - a maneuver that takes full advantage of your superhuman physique to drive your sword forward with enough force to boil the air as it passes.

That's an important distinction to make, the air-boiling thing - you aren't sure Taylor fully appreciates its meaning.

"Of course it is! Look, just try it!" You cheer as your sword slams into a wall that surprisingly doesn't explode into fragments under your attack. A sensation of annoyance washes over you that you at first assume is coming from your Master, only to abruptly find yourself standing far enough away from her that you instantly discorporate–

–and reappear next to her in a flash. With her sword already halfway to your head.

"Hey! That's cheating!" You complain, bending over backwards to dodge the slash and hastily thrusting a fist forward to block the kick to your crotch that Taylor immediately follows up with.

"I didn't do anything! And I am trying it! You're just stabbing me really hard! I thought we already did this! 'Blah blah super strength, blah blah leverage!' This isn't a sword style! Where's the organized series of moves and countermoves?! You're just swinging that thing at me super hard!" Taylor pouts, stepping back to let you get your balance.

You blink at her and look around, realizing that the room - just an empty storage room in the basement - has abruptly returned to its normal size. You send a suspicious look upward, then sigh and get back to your teaching.

Fine. The building doesn't like being stabbed. Noted.

"Okay, we'll do it like this, then." You say, crossing your arms in front of your chest and gesturing at Taylor with a raised finger. "Use your Devil Trigger."

This should be simple enough to demonstrate anyway. It's not like it's a hard point to make, but all of your Master's various powers sort of obscure the fact to her. She could probably use some practice time in her badass alternate form anyway, so-

"Do I have to?" She asks in a put upon tone common to teenagers everywhere.

"I– yes? What? You… You don't like your Devil Trigger?!" You demand of her with steadily increasing incredulity.

"I mean, it's fine, but-" She starts awkwardly.

"It- It's fine? It's just fine? I've fought Gods with that power! I've styled on Gods with that power!" You reprimand her, sounding more confused than angry because well..

You are.

"Yeah, but it's like turning into a giant bug! All my clothes disappear, and all the armor is more like my skin. It's like being naked! And I don't even have a mouth!" She complains, turning her head away from you in an almost petulant fashion.

"You don't need a mouth to be a badass!" You counter her, walking in a circle around her so she is forced to look at you. Or… would, if she didn't turn away from you at an equal pace to that with which you walk around her. You try to speed up to catch her off guard, but all that results in, is you running in increasingly blurry circles around her.

Eventually you give up and stop, rather than wait for Taylor to, well… black out from all the spinning.

"Look, just… just transform for me for a second. It's for training." You eventually request with a sigh, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose. God, you don't remember Nero being this much of a pain…

Wait, no, the second he could use his Devil Trigger he made it your problem! By bitch-slapping you in the face!

'Is Dante's entire family like this? Is it… genetic?' You wonder. On the one hand - that's not how genetics work. The part of you dedicated to understanding humans down to an extremely granular level knows that.

But you aren't sure Dante even went to school, so the particulars of genetic structure definitely escape him.

You wait expectantly for a couple seconds, then, when Taylor doesn't transform, clear your throat. That seems to do it though, and she finally flickers with explosive light that would probably blind any normal person looking at her. When the energy around her settles down, she is… actually, as much as she complains about her Devil form being bug-like, it truthfully bears more similarities to a dragon to you.

Or a knight.

Spoiler

For you, it's impressive. For most other people - at least people who aren't acclimated to the oppressive aura she exudes - this form would probably be terrifying. Not because there is anything innately terrible about it, certainly even less so in a parahuman world with things like Endbringers in it…

But there is an instinctual human revulsion in the face of the denizens of hell. An aura of menace that surrounds all of your kind, when you are revealed for what you are. It isn't apparent when you are in your human forms, but like this? Like this, people looking at her would probably assume your Master was there to kill them, more than anything else.

And then she goes and ruins the mystique and cool factor by talking.

"Well?" She asks in an awkward tone of voice that is extremely at odds with the deep, echoing basso her voice becomes while in this form. She shifts awkwardly from side to side, and her arms move about minutely as though she is trying to cover herself, deciding not to, forgetting, and then starting the entire process all over again every few seconds.

"Dump all your other stuff." You suggest, and - though obviously annoyed by the delay - Taylor does opt to do so, which has the added effect of increasing the sensation of unspecified dread you get just by being around her seven-fold and causes the air around her to boil and seethe with demonic power, as all of her various pools of energy are converted solely to demonic power.

"Cool. Now, try to swing your sword at me. Hard as you can." You prompt.

Now, you had kind of expected that - given your Master's normal reluctance to hurt you, her preference for you to maintain good health, and her view of you as a full and total person deserving of respect and love, that she would… well…

Hesitate to try and eviscerate you.

Thankfully, or perhaps not thankfully, she doesn't even bother to argue with you on the topic, perhaps because she is more than aware of your absurd survivability. She takes a position, and attempts to swing her sword at you.

Two things happen at once.

One, all the air in the room ignites as the sheer speed she is moving at lights her surroundings on fire.

And two, she is both blinded by that fire and also… well, covered in it. You wouldn't quite describe it as an explosion, but certainly the instantaneous burst of burning oxygen has some concussive force to it - which promptly throws your Master's aim off, and leaves her blindly stumbling around and yelling angrily at you. Eventually - and given that all of this happens very quickly - she realizes what is happening, and promptly chills the room with a rune, reducing the conflagration to nothing.

You then return to your physical form, having become a ghost to avoid having all your clothing burnt off by the blaze you knew was coming.

"See, you're used to stuff like air resistance not mattering 'cus you cheat with all that special sauce you've got, but–" You begin to explain, only to pause when a sprinkler system that definitely wasn't even installed in this room before goes off.

Directly above your head. In fact, it only goes off over your head. When you try to step out from under it, a different sprinkler goes off, dousing you in a deluge of water and black crud that you assume is supposed to help put out fires.

"That wasn't even me!" You yell at the ceiling.

You aren't sure why but you feel like the Heap shrugs at you in response, continuing to rain blackened water down on your head. Deciding to ignore it, you turn back to your Master, only to see her already positioned to try and stab you again.

"Hey, what are you-" You try to ask.

"Oh, I get it now is all. We're still training, so I thought I'd… try again until I got it right? The goal is… not to do that, right?" She asks you in an innocent tone of voice that - again - is very at odds with her demonic demeanor and tenor.

"Yeah, but–" You start to say again, having only really wanted to demonstrate your point once before returning to teaching her your skills normally, and not having expected your lunatic training maniac Master to… well.

Think that blowing herself up repeatedly was fun, honestly.

"I think I've got it this time, if it's an air resistance thing then I just have to manage my speed so it doesn't ignite, I think." She says thoughtfully, taking off in a running leap at you with her sword extended to make a thrust.

The air doesn't explode this time, but the floor under her, made entirely out of concrete, does, sending bits of jagged stone in every direction and causing your Master to slip, falling forward with enough force that she creates an indentation in the floor at your feet that is shaped perfectly like her facemask.

Another set of sprinklers appears overhead, and begins to rain chemical flame-retardant down on the both of you.

You groan.

Thursday, March 24th , 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

"Okay, we've got… about an hour to go before school. It should be the same time here as it is over in Remnant, so… is that enough time to make an appointment with Mr. Schnee?" Taylor muses, stretching as the pair of you emerge out of the depths of the building at roughly six thirty in the morning. Her dresser opted to provide her with her preferred black sweater and worn jeans today, and she has opted to cram the majority of her voluminous white hair into the back of the sweater so that she can pull the hood up.

You've no idea why she prefers to cover up this way, but it's not like you haven't developed equally weird preferences over the years.

"I dunno. Do we have to actually make an appointment? Kind of feels like we could just appear in his office and ask real nicely." You suggest with a shrug.

Your current emulation is many things. A good man. A kind man. A funny man.

But he is definitely not a patient man, and it shows.

"Usually I would - it's not like I like the guy - but you know… I kind of already screwed up a lot of the planet so… it's probably easier to just ask nicely and then leave. It's not like I can't just pay him in whatever rare material he wants, anyway. Plus, it's Weiss' company too, so without Salem around I can come back later to have him… removed… more thoroughly. And quietly." Taylor says with a thin-lipped smile.

"Ah. The mean lady planning power. Forgot you had that one." You say idly.

"She wasn't–you weren't mean. Just very practical. Buuuut yeah that one… does tend to provide suggestions that inevitably end in world domination." Taylor answers with a shrug as the pair of you walk through the halls until you eventually reach the kitchen.

"Nothing wrong with a little world domination. That's totally not evil." You say with a snort.

"I'd be a very benevolent dictator. The people wouldn't even feel my iron grip. I promise." Taylor responds airily, walking through the doorway and pausing as she finds Yew shuffling around inside.

"Hey, uh, buddy. What's up?" She asks awkwardly as you walk past her to pull the fridge open so you can grab a… chocolate milk? You swear to God whoever stocks this kitchen refuses to put strawberry milk in here just to screw with you.

Probably the building itself. Not that you know how it would go about stocking itself.

"Hey mom! Just putting some plants here and there. Brighten the place up, you know?" Yew replies cheerfully, standing from the stoop he had been in with a tiny potted cactus in one hand.

He's holding it directly by the spiky part of the cactus, which both seems to be doing no damage to the actual plant, and no damage to Yew himself. You opt not to comment on that because, frankly, it's not that weird relative to everything else that goes on in this place. Taylor - as always - seems like she has no genuine idea how to interact with or deal with any of her 'kids' that are nominally older than her, but visibly doing her best to try, she shuffles forward to take a seat at the table, gesturing lazily at the stove, which turns itself on.

And then the frying pan hovers out of a nearby cupboard to land on the swiftly heating element.

Aaaaaand then a pair of eggs hover out of the fridge to wait over the pan…

You're pretty sure Taylor isn't even the one doing that. You know her Onmyodo magic lets her more or less just ask the local spirits to do stuff for her, but you're also pretty sure the only local spirit in the Heap is the Heap itself.

And it is very apparent to you that the degree of sapience the place has is on a rapid incline.

"I see. How are they going to get any light in here, though? There are… no windows." She points out. Yew shrugs at her.

"I was just gonna ask." He says with a calm smile as though this makes perfect sense.

"For… sunlight?" Taylor responds curiously.

"For windows." Yew corrects, gesturing at a wall that - again, you are positive has another room on the other side of it - rapidly warps so that an opening into the courtyard on the other side of the building is present on it.

"…Huh." Taylor grunts, peering curiously - but not with all that much surprise - at the new window.

"…If I ask really nicely, do you think we could get a milkshake place in here, or..?" You try tentatively.

The fridge opens, and a bowl of strawberries, a bowl of milk, and several supplies required for making ice cream drift out of it to land in front of you. The message clearly being, 'Do it yourself'.

You turn to stare with annoyance at the eggs and bacon currently cooking on the stove, then return your gaze to the table.

"This is blatant favoritism!" You yell at the ceiling.

"I don't think she likes you." Yew notes with a frown.

"Likes- I made this place!" You complain.

"Technically-" Taylor begins only for you to point at her sternly.

"Hot woman me, was still me!" You bark.

"Tell that to the Heap, not to me." Taylor snorts, holding in a laugh at your expense.

"What are you doing here so early anyway, mom? I know you usually beat uncle Emmy up around now." Yew asks curiously.

"It's training! We train! She doesn't beat me up! I feel like none of you respect how powerful I am." You grumble, tentatively reaching for a large mixing bowl and trying to remember how ice cream works.

"I have to go to Remnant to try and set a meeting up with a douchey business tycoon so the city doesn't explode." Taylor answers her son, ignoring you entirely.

"The… city is going to explode?" Yew asks incredulously, swiftly putting the cactus down on the nearest surface and dusting his hands off as though intending to run off to handle whatever the problem is right now.

"Not if I get the mining equipment I need, no." Taylor responds - seemingly not very worried by the prospect.

"Oh… can I come?" Yew asks hopefully.

You and Taylor pause to share a look with each other, then she looks back to her son and shrugs.

"Sure. I'm just going to make an appointment. What's the worst that could happen?"

Thursday, March 24th , 2011

The Schnee Manor, Atlas

Point of View: Jacques Schnee

"What is this?" He asked in an irate, scolding tone. He would never put one of the animals in a management position, but he had assumed that one of them was at least capable of following basic instructions.

The decaf coffee from some no-name dumpster in the city sitting in front of him - cold, because he wouldn't willingly have drunk the swill anyway - loomed larger in his vision than the faunus woman in a maid uniform standing several feet away by the door to his office. It was a matter of perspective, but also, kept things in perspective for him.

The coffee was important.

The woman was not.

"Your coffee… sir?" The woman half asked, further annoying Jacques. Either it was a question, or it wasn't - that was how language worked. Jacques couldn't fathom how his chief of staff had managed to hire someone so unsuited to do… well, anything, to clean his halls and bring him coffee in the morning. She was a typical faunus. Stupid. Deformed - the curling horns on the sides of her head of dark brown hair made her to be some kind of idiotic goat creature - and overall useless for any higher pursuits.

It was why most of them were so at home in the mines. Their bodies were sturdy, if nothing else.

"No. My coffee is a specialty blend from Vacuo, and comes from a very specific cafe. This." He said, standing to pick up the cold, swiftly turning to sludge, substance and walking towards the maid at a rapid pace.

"Is garbage." He stated flatly, upending the cup over her head with a snort.

"I- the cafe you sent me to was closed- I thought-" The maid babbled at him, trembling with fear.

"Did you knock?" He demanded.

"What?" She asked, clearly distressed by the coffee dribbling down her face.

"Did. You. Knock?" He repeated pointedly.

"No, but-" She tried to defend herself.

"If you had knocked, you would have learned that I have an arrangement with the owner. He brings me coffee. I don't buy his business. Very simple. Now. Go clean yourself up, then go back, and bring me the correct drink." He demanded, dismissing her by turning his back on her, secure in the knowledge that if she so much as had an aggressive thought, the two auto turrets in the ceiling would drop down to turn her into a red paste.

He hoped she wouldn't, because then he would have to use a different office while this one was cleaned, but he wasn't worried about it, which was the point.

By the time he had finished marching back to his desk, he had already heard the door open and close behind him, and the maid was gone by the time he had sat down.

Withdrawing his scroll from his desk, he quickly sent the go ahead to his accountant to finalize the purchase of the cafe. He had known the new maid wouldn't know to knock, and he had zero interest in leaving such an excellent staff in the wind.

Better to close the place down and move them to his manor's kitchen.

Still. The beast should have known better.

That bit of pageantry done, he turned his attention to other things.

He'd been getting reports for days now of groups of bird faunus pawning extremely valuable, highly concentrated dust to brokers around the world, and if he didn't miss his mark, he could bet he knew why. Tribes of wandering idiots weren't uncommon outside the cities. They rarely lived very long, but they existed, and when city life became too hard for people, they tended to take to the wilds, trying their luck against the Grimm rather than debt.

It was foolish, but it served a purpose, at least to Jacques.

Because those wandering idiots had to enter a city eventually, even if only for supplies. And they made for excellent scouts - mostly because they were motivated to find their fortunes out in the wild, and he was motivated to take those fortunes. He didn't even have to pay them to find things for him.

This tribe might be particularly smart, spreading their sales over multiple kingdoms, but Jacques was no fool - he could see the massive resource the beasts had likely found for themselves.

And he wanted it.

"Amaranth. Take a team. Follow those nomads who came to town last night." He ordered, having initiated a call on his scroll to his chief of security.

"Yes, sir. Survivors?" She queried, and Jacques knew she was asking for orders - not because she actually cared one way or the other.

Amaranth was useful that way.

"It doesn't matter as long as you don't get caught. Standard practices apply. I expect the team to die before they're connected to me in any meaningful way." He ordered swiftly, his mind already well past thinking on the matter.

He was one of the richest people on the planet, and that didn't come from being ignorant. His office flowed with information, and he made great use of it in his business empire.

Someday, just his Empire, he hoped.

For instance, Grimm attacks were down twenty three percent in the last few weeks. Seasonally speaking, that was abnormal, but sometimes you got lucky, and the filthy creatures got distracted by a tribe that managed to lure them out into the middle of nowhere before dying, or they simply wandered far enough away from populated areas that they weren't a hindrance to trade.

Jacques was aware that he wasn't the only person who had this information. But he was equally aware that most people would wait for more confirmation, almost to the point of giving the advantage of knowing it up entirely. Jacques was different. He was a Schnee.

And he had more than enough disposable employees to test the waters in exchange for massive returns on his gambles.

For all the animals complained about how he treated them, there was never any shortage of them willing to work his convoys, guard his product, and die in his mines. He didn't make them do that. They chose it all by themselves.

"Yes, sir. There's one more thing. Someone attempting to schedule an appointment with you." Amaranth reported.

"Why are you telling me this and not my secretary then? Who is it? Ironwood? One of the Councillors?" He asked with a glint in his eye. He'd been trying to get an in with the political sphere of his nation for a few years now. Eventually he'd figured he'd just become a Councilman himself - but it never hurt to be owed a favor.

"No, sir. She appeared at the front gate a few minutes ago with two bodyguards. I didn't recognize her so I ran her face through the system - she's a person of interest to Vale and the Atlas Military with suspected ties to the Academy in Beacon." Amaranth informed him.

He hummed at that, considering the possibilities, the angles.

"What do they want with her?" He asked curiously.

"I don't know sir, it's labeled classified." Amaranth informed him. Jacques eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he considered that.

He considered having her sent up immediately - if only to sate his own curiosity - but then he recalled her supposed 'connections' to the 'school' his wayward daughter had run off to, and his curiosity rapidly cooled.

He wouldn't go out of his way to make any enemies… yet. But anyone who showed up on his home's front doorstep and expected to be brought in like royalty were going to be sorely disappointed.

She could wait.

"Tell her I'm busy at the moment. Keep her in the lobby. Try and separate her from her bodyguards, if you can." He said quickly.

"Yes, sir." Amaranth acquiesced, before recognizing the dismissal for what it was and disconnecting unprompted.

God, did he love a well trained animal. It was why he couldn't fathom why people would dare call him a racist.

He was perfectly happy to care for the creatures. He just refused to be bitten by them.

Thursday, March 24th , 2011

The Schnee Manor, Atlas

Point of View: Yew Hebert

"Right this way, Miss Hebert." The woman with the cool dog ears said, one hand resting on the pommel of the sheathed saber at her waist, and the other gesturing for him, his mom, and his uncle to follow her.

Yew liked the coat she was wearing. It was like a military coat, but definitely not a military coat, because she was clearly a butler or something and not a soldier. Mom had already told him that basically everyone here carried a weapon because of the monster things that were all over the place, so Yew didn't think too hard about it beyond that.

Besides, there wasn't a single member of his extended family that didn't basically walk around all day with a weapon, so it wasn't that weird to him in the first place.

"If he's busy I can come back another time. I have my own… appointment… in an hour or so." Mom said quickly, not immediately following after the woman - Amaranth, although her hair just looked purple to Yew.

Hey, maybe he'd know colors better if he went to school for Art? He still wasn't sure what exactly he wanted to do - but he definitely wanted to go to college for something. Sis had told him you needed a degree to get a job, and if you didn't get a job you were a deadbeat - and Yew didn't want to be a deadbeat, which meant he had to get a job. His sisters had suggested he go into Botany but that was boring. He already knew everything he needed to know about plants.

Painting though? That might be fun. Maybe.

"If you will just wait a moment in the lobby, I can inform Mister Schnee of your needs and then get back to you." Amaranth stated in a bored tone. Yew noticed that she mostly focused her attention on him, but he had no idea why. Uncle was way cooler, and Mom was way prettier. Maybe it was because he was so big? He knew some people thought it was weird that he was this size, but he couldn't help it! He was a big tree- guy! A big guy! And when a tree could move around that just meant he could always be in the sun! It was great!

"I'll give it fifteen minutes, then." Mom agreed imperiously, finally bothering to follow after the other woman, who frowned at her slightly but didn't actually say anything, which Yew always thought was weird.

Why wouldn't you say what you were thinking? He did, and it hadn't really hurt him yet.

At length, the group was led into a lavish main hall, with lots of unnecessarily gaudy decorations and things all over it. Mom and uncle went to sit down against a wall on one of those cool laser chairs Mom loved to make - rather than get dirt all over the fancy chairs, Yew guessed - and Yew himself walked to the other end of the room to look at a series of paintings along the wall. Each one contained a depiction of a different person, only one of whom he recognized.

Weiss Schnee.

She had been… well, not nice. But his kid sister thought she was cool, so even though she seemed kind of mean, Yew gave her the benefit of the doubt.

Again, he was perfectly aware that appearances could be deceiving. Mom was kind of mean sometimes too - but she wasn't a mean person, so he had to assume there was a difference between the two things.

Off to the side, a maid with a stained outfit walked out from one of the many hallways and sighed to herself, idly gazing in his direction before moving on.

Then her mind caught up to her eyes, and she froze in place, walked back, did a double take, and then swiftly started patting herself down to fix her disheveled outfit.

"Don't get too far, okay?" Mom called to him as he peered at the paintings.

"I'm just looking at the paintings, I swear!" He called over his shoulder to her, looking at each painting in turn, only to swiftly realize that… he had no idea how painting worked.

Were there… internet tutorials for painting? Or maybe courses or schools in Brockton? Should he ask Simone? Simone knew everything, so she'd probably at least know who he was supposed to ask about this stuff. He'd ask his mom, but she seemed busy, and he'd ask his uncle but he seemed… well, kind of dumb.

Nice, but dumb.

"Are you… interested in them?" Someone asked him, and he swiftly turned to find a maid in soaked clothing standing next to him with a forced expression of calm on her face.

A.. very forced expression. Like, if Yew didn't know any better he'd think she was about to cry or something.

"Oh, hi! Yes, just the paintings, ma'am. I don't really know who these people are." He admitted, easily.

"Oh. That's… odd." The - he wanted to say maid? - the maid responded to him with an off-put look. But his comment seemed to have at least been amusing to her for some reason, so he'd take what he could get.

"What? Why? Are they important? They don't look important. Just rich. Sorry, do you need new clothes, ma'am? My mom could probably get you some new clothes." He asserted without thinking too much about it.

"That- ahah, ahahahah! You- who are you?" She burst into laughter, wiping a tear from her eye and then glaring at her own hand when it came away sticky with the gunk on her face.

"I'm Yew, ma'am. It's nice to meet you! I'm just waiting for my mom - she's got an appointment here, I think." He said, shrugging and gesturing to the opposite side of the hall with one trunk-like arm where his mom and uncle were watching the exchange with thinly-veiled amusement and interest.

"Is that your sister? I guess your mom is already inside? I'm Gamboi, by the way." She introduced herself.

"What? No, that's my mom. And my uncle. We're waiting." He expanded confusedly.

Why did people have such a hard time getting that mom was mom? Honestly.

"But- she's… younger than you?" Gamboi tried tentatively - clearly willing to understand, but just as clearly - not understanding at all.

"Oh. That. Yeah, I'm a magical tree that she brought to life with magic. I treat it like a found family thing." He explained easily.

He wasn't stupid, after all.

"…You… Your family isn't… from any Kingdom, is it?" Gamboi asked eventually, squinting at him and - very likely - coming to a conclusion that was entirely wrong, but that Yew couldn't correct because he doubted she would elaborate.

Unless he asked. He could definitely ask. It was something people seemed to actively avoid doing around his mom for some reason.

"No, but-" he began, only for Emmy to saunter over with his Mom.

"Hey kiddo. You wanna stay with your friend here and call us when what's-her-face gets back? Your mom wants to check in with the birds." Emmy said brashly, even as mom casually waved a hand at the maid, cleaning her outfit instantly.

"Is it… okay?" He asked hesitantly, glancing at Gamboi who was patting herself down in confusion. It wasn't that he minded - he was a tough guy, at least tough enough that he was pretty sure he wouldn't have any problems with sitting in a waiting room for a little while - but this was an unfamiliar place to be. The idea of his mom leaving him here - even if only for a little while - felt distinctly like a child losing track of their parents at the grocery store.

"Should be fine. Here - just rip this if anything happens and we'll come back, okay?" Mom explained, withdrawing a piece of crumpled paper from her pocket and scribbling something on it with her index finger that left a dull blue glow across the note paper's surface. Yew took the paper in hand, glancing at it curiously for a second, before shoving it in his pocket.

"Is that how your tribe stays in contact with each other?" Gamboi asked curiously.

Mom, having almost seemed to have forgotten she existed, turned to her with surprise at being addressed.

"Oh… no, but… it's complicated." She said with a fragile smile.

Again, Gamboi seemed to misunderstand.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean to pry! I know people who don't live in the cities have their circumstances!" She apologized, bowing slightly.

"Uhuh… look, we aren't from around here, but it's… probably not what you're thinking. I'd explain, but you probably wouldn't believe me." Mom explained again, shrugging as though to say 'what can you do about it'. Emmy just… watched.

Yew wasn't sure if Emmy even noticed he did it, but he seemed to automatically step back to watch whenever his mom was doing… really anything. He'd interfere if he had to, he'd talk to people if he felt like it, but most of the time… most of the time he just watched, with this eery, unblinking stare - like he'd forgotten to blink.

It wasn't obvious most of the time, because he was usually pretty animated with his family, but with strangers, he usually spent his time invisibly - and presumably - doing the creepy stare thing.

They were a weird pair, his mom and uncle. But somehow, they fit.

"You don't have to explain to me, miss! I'm already thankful for your help earlier!" Gamboi said brightly.

"We'll leave Yew to you, then." Emmy said, stepping back with an easy smile. As if prompted by her partner's movement, mom turned and pulled a Gap open that Yew quickly had to cover Gamboi's face to prevent her from seeing - then stepped through and vanished.

"….S-s-sir?" Gamboi asked him, suddenly afraid.

"Sorry. Mom's portals scare people." He said apologetically, removing his hand.

"I… see." She said carefully, obviously unsure of what had just happened.

There was an awkward silence between them as Yew returned to trying to figure out this 'painting' thing, and then Gamboi spoke again.

"What are you here to see mister Schnee about, mister Yew?" She asked curiously.

"Oh. We need some fancy Dust mining stuff, or our home is gonna blow up." He said with a shrug.

At this, Gamboi's face darkened.

"I… hope mister Schnee can help you." She said neutrally.

Yew wasn't sure, but he got the impression that even though she meant what she said…

She didn't really believe it.

Thursday, March 24th , 2011

The (Not So Dark) Continent, Remnant

Point of View: Multiversal Emulator

"Damn. They work fast over here, huh?" You muse as you and Taylor appear in the center of what was previously a group of hastily constructed wooden shacks.

It's a stone room now.

A stone room full of… decorative statues? Of your Master?

"Are… Are we sure there isn't a time dilation thing going on, or..?" Taylor asks apprehensively as the sole door leading into the room opens.

You notice that the statues are all positioned facing outward in a loose circle, and a man in a strangely anachronistic outfit steps through the ring to kneel before the two of you.

"Great Nexus! The Chancellor is preparing for your visit!" He says loudly. He is wearing a bizarre combination of modern jeans, a medieval tunic under a steel breastplate, and a long red coat.

"…Chancellor?" She asks hesitantly, glancing between the man and you, clearly making note of the similarity between your jackets.

You really hope these people didn't add Dante to their weird mythology. God, it'd be Fortuna all over again.

"Chancellor Merida and her council determined that our kings had failed us, and that to claim kingship when you exist would be folly!" The man says.

You and Taylor share a look with each other, then turn back to the man.

"You… know I'm not a God, right?" She tries tiredly.

"Chancellor Merida has stated as such, but if you will forgive me for saying - the difference is purely academic to us. You are our savior, and we will never forget that." The man responds, finally standing up with a smile and a glint in his eyes.

"My name is Therian, and I am the Chief of the Central Hub. We have been awaiting your return." He adds.

"I… gathered." Taylor says uncomfortably, glancing at the statues of her - several of them in her Devil form.

"If you will follow me, I can show you the briefing room." He says with a nod, and you notice he has - for whatever reason - a spanish accent.

"Yeah, 'bout that, what's the deal with the castle?" You ask as he begins to lead you out of the room, and up a long stone hallway with several branching pathways leading off of it. Unlike a standard hall, you note that the ceiling is nearly three times as high as a normal building would have them, and various corvids flit past overhead as you travel through the halls, pausing to perch on stone outcroppings at regular intervals, or to dart into small tunnels fit only for a bird to travel through that are set higher up than you can easily reach.

"What about it?" Therian asks, leading you down several turns until you are in front of a door that looks no different from any of the others in the hallway.

"Where did it come from? It's been barely a few weeks tops since you got here." You point out.

"It may not match up to what the Great Nexus can achieve alone, but together, our magic is well suited to creating civilization. We once considered it a blessing from the Gods." He says wistfully, pushing the door open for you but not following you in.

Inside is a room with a large circular table taking up much of its space, and a slew of people wearing a mishmash of modern and ancient clothes as they move about it. Atop the table is a map of the world, covered in small stone figures representing people, Grimm, and birds at different points.

"You aren't coming in?" Taylor asks Therian.

"I have other responsibilities to attend to. I manage this base - I am not party to strategic decisions." He says with a shake of his head.

When your Master finally enters the room with you in tow, all eyes turn to you - first in irritation, and then in reverence - and Merida - the person at the head of the table, calls out to your Master.

"Nexus! We were waiting for your arrival. We believe our preparations are largely complete." She says with a thin smile.

"...Preparations for… what?" Your Master asks, glancing over the table and absently shifting one of the pieces slightly to the left.

When everyone stares at her in confusion, she shrugs.

"There's a river here. They'd follow it before they braved the wilds near Windpath." She points out. Merida, the woman who originally seemed to be the leader of these people the first time your Master came back here, peers at the map for a moment in thought before answering her.

"We've been making preparations to approach the other 'Kingdoms' as allies. We've been making do with what small groups of people can acquire via trade, but we are in dire need of larger scale operations." She says.

"Then why are you tracking their militaries?" Taylor asks.

"Trading with someone doesn't make them our friends. If we have something they want, and have no way to defend it…" Merida explains, clearly trying very hard not to sound like she is explaining something to a child, but not… quite… succeeding.

All the people in the room flinch as though fearing the abrupt destruction of her entire body, and then when nothing happens, lose a sigh of relief.

"Seems fair. Do you… need anything from me?" Taylor asks pointedly.

"Did you have a recommendation for who to reach out to first? We had assumed if you wanted the world to know about us, that they would know…" Merida says awkwardly.

Taylor, who you are sure simply hadn't thought about it until now, opens and closes her mouth in confusion, before turning her attention back down to the table, and the map.

That's… a pretty good question, actually. Who should the Bird Nation (The name is pending okay?!) ally with first? Geopolitics aren't exactly your strong suit…

[ ] Atlas (Technologically advanced, socially restrictive to Faunus. Frozen Plains.)

[ ] Vacuo (Nearly no central government, run entirely by Huntsmen Academy. Giant Desert.)

[ ] Mistral (Oscar is from here. Very Mountainous. Full of criminals and crime families.)

[ ] Vale (The main RWBY cast is from here. Primarily Forested area. Run by an inefficient Council)

[ ] Menagerie (This is the island of Animal People that is demeaningly named after a Zoo. Nice place. Lots of terrorists live here.)

Thursday, March 24th , 2011

The Schnee Manor, Atlas

Point of View: Yew Hebert

"Does your 'mother' often leave when she claims to be requesting a meeting?" Someone called out to him as he proceeded to… well. Stare at the paintings. It'd been maybe fifteen minutes since his Mom had left, and as much as Gamboi had wanted to stick around to keep him company - she had a job to do.

And Yew had been trying to work out these paintings for that entire time.

He wasn't an idiot, so it wasn't like he was just staring at them blankly though. The material the paintings were made on was interesting, but only because one of them was different from the others. Hemp was a material he recognized - it came from a plant after all.

But one of them was very clearly made from some kind of scraped down, thin, leather. It wasn't a big deal but it made it stand out - and not in a good way. Like the man the painting was made from didn't quite fit in with the other members of the family that was being put on display.

Turning around, Yew was only mildly surprised to find that exact same man standing behind him, with a severe expression of disappointment on his face.

"Oh, hello, sir! I'm sorry, mom isn't really accustomed to people ignoring her. They usually know better, I guess." He said with a shrug. He knew instantly that he had said something wrong, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was, as the man's expression darkened even further.

"I suppose she left you behind to negotiate on her behalf? What exactly did you need?" He asked stormily.

At this point, Yew turned fully around to face him with an apologetic look on his face.

"Wait no, I'm really sorry! I didn't mean that as a threat or anything! Back home mom just tends to get her way, is all!" He said quickly, frantically waving his hands in front of him for emphasis.

"...What. Do you. Want." The man said grouchily.

"Well, uh…" Yew responded, scratching his cheek with one finger. "Mom said she found a big deposit of Dust under our city, and we gotta dig it up or the city is gonna explode. Uh… she said you had the tools we'd need for that?" Yew tried, struggling to remember all the details. He'd pretty much stopped thinking about it the moment his mom said he didn't have to.

At this, the older gentleman's expression brightened.

"Ah! Real business! Why didn't you say so! Tell me where the vein is, and we can get down to negotiating a contract for the rights to it. I don't mean to brag, but the Schnee Dust Company has some of the most advanced mining technology in the world. You've chosen the right business for this, I assure you." He says, his demeanor changing in the blink of an eye.

"Rights? No, I think mom just wants one of your drill things." Yew said blankly.

"Young man - those tools are proprietary. I can mine it for you, I can sell it for you, but I cannot give you the tools directly. I hope you can understand." He responded.

Yew did some very simple calculations in his head.

The city needed those tools. Lives depended on it. It was the whole reason they had come here. At the same time, mom couldn't hire this guy to drill it for them if she wanted to - Yew was pretty sure that people couldn't travel through the Gaps without mom to keep them from melting, and there was no way she could keep an entire team of miners alive long enough to solve the problem.

"I… you probably wouldn't survive it." He muttered in thought.

"...I'm sorry?" The old man said, his frown returning.

"You'd probably die if you tried to go where mom and I are from. Can't you just give us-" He started to say earnestly, lifting one large hand to reach out to the guy in the hopes of explaining the situation fully, only for several mechanical whirring noises to explode throughout the room as several turrets appeared throughout the room.

"Hey, wai-" Yew yelped, lifting a hand to cover his face as a line of bullets traced itself up his front.

"Clean him up. Doctor the footage for the woman later. Tell her he left on his own." The man said bluntly, having spun to walk away from Yew before the first bullet had even landed.

"But I'm still right here?" Yew tried tentatively, slowly lowering his hand as he realized that whatever they were shooting him with was… well, frankly incapable of doing much more than tickling really. It was damaging his shirt though, which was its own kind of annoying.

The man paused again, turning around to peer at Yew even as the weapons surrounding him continued to plug ammunition into Yew's chest with pinpoint accuracy. Yew couldn't imagine how complicated it would be to make a machine that would avoid even a single bullet landing on him.

Of course, mom could do it, but she was mom.

"...So you are." He said, watching curiously as rounds bounced off Yew's increasingly bare chest.

"Yeah, so…" Yew started, looking down at his rapidly vanishing shirt, then shrugging.

"About the… drill stuff?" He tried again - raising his voice to speak over the hail of gunfire that wasn't actually… bothering him, really.

"You have a remarkable amount of aura." The old man noted slowly.

"Don't have an Aura. Mom says its 'cus I'm magic." Yew replied easily.

"Is that… so? Would you be interested in a job? In exchange for… say… some of my equipment? As a rental, of course." He said at length, lifting a hand that instantly caused the gunfire to cease.

"Doing… what? I'd need to ask my mom…" He asked eventually.

"Standard security. You could work with my Chief of Security, even. You seem very… capable." He said dryly.

At this point Yew had intuited that this was mister Schnee - again, he wasn't stupid - and knowing the importance of the task his mom had come here for…

Well. He ripped the little piece of paper his mom had given him for if something came up.

Thursday, March 24th , 2011

The Schnee Manor, Atlas

Point of View: Taylor Hebert

There was nothing more uncomfortable for Taylor than dealing with twenty minutes of being worshiped like a literal God, and forced to give advice on the direction an entire civilization took.

But coming through a Gap to find Yew shirtless and standing in the middle of a swathe of destruction that was clearly caused by gunfire was pretty damn close.

Although, rather than say she was uncomfortable, she would prefer to describe it as supremely pissed off. She felt the sudden overwhelming urge to kick Jacques in his smarmy stupid crotch so hard that he'd taste her foot.

Then her Inner Peace kicked in, and she grouchily had to accept that there wasn't really anything on this planet that could actually hurt Yew, barring some unforeseen semblance interaction or other.

"The hell is this?" She asked, perhaps a touch rudely, marching up to Jacques and planting her feet with her hands on her hips and a neutral smile on her face.

"Ah, miss… Hebert? Your son was just demonstrating his… qualifications, for me." The slimeball said with an easy smile that would have fooled her if she wasn't perfectly aware that in an alternate future he had willingly worked with Salem - the local equivalent to Satan.

Also, he was a rampant racist, but that was sort of a given.

She turned her head to look at Yew, who seemed confused for a moment, before shrugging and flashing her a thumbs up, and she couldn't help but let loose a sigh.

Could she go on an apocalyptic rampage, take what she wanted, then leave? Sure, probably. But a lot of innocent people who just happened to be working for this jerk would get hurt in the process, and that wasn't really fair.

Honestly, she felt like the more powerful she got, the less she actually got to do with it, and it was getting frustrating.

Maybe she should schedule a hunting trip or something with Emmy this weekend. She could go find an acceptable target or something and blow it up, or throw it into the sun.

'We could totally just steal the stuff from him, you know.' Emmy pointed out to her.

'Call it Plan B' she replied.

'B… plus?' He asked.

'Yeah. The plan I wish was plan A but that isn't for stupid reasons.' She harrumphed at him.

"Qualifications for what?" She asked Jacques flatly.

"Why, to work for me of course! Tell me, are all of your people as resilient as mister…" Jacques paused, probably realizing he had never actually gotten Yew's name.

"Yew, sir." The man supplied easily.

'No, Yew, honey, he's a jerk - you don't have to be polite to him.' She thought, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose.

Was she ever like this? Was it because he was young or because he was just that nice? Maybe he just needed some life experience? Hell, maybe all her kids needed some life experience. Mem and Mun were fine - one of them was a clone of Dinah with all the accompanying emotional intelligence and socialization, and the other was currently going to a human school anyway.

But Gram, Simone, and Yew were… well, they were practically fully grown toddlers, blundering around in a world they assumed couldn't hurt them.

Ugh. Why was parenting so hard? Did normal parents have to consider this stuff? Maybe she should ask her dad? Or… or maybe Katherine? Katherine was pretty wise most of the time, at least when she wasn't gnawing on a block of cheese in the living room at 2 AM so she could watch her favorite cartoons in her underwear.

"Mister Yew, then." Jacques nodded politely.

"Naturally." She responded, lying to him not so much for any particular reason, but rather because he was Jacques.

"Interesting…" He mused, before continuing. "Your son has indicated a pressing need for my equipment. I must confess, you likely can't afford to purchase it from me, and I am unwilling to just give it to you - but if you're all this resilient, I could see my way to an exchange of goods and services." He suggested leadingly.

"You want to hire my son to punch things for you." She said flatly.

"Nothing so crude. I wish to hire him to protect the things other people would like to… punch." He responded dryly.

Taylor looked at Jacques, then at Yew, then back to Jacques.

Then she smiled.

She knew what she was gonna send her kids to do in their free time.

She also knew the second one of them saw one of Jacques' camps? Well. Viva la revolution and all that.

It wasn't like anyone here could stop them.

…That was evil. That was definitely an evil overlord thought.

Her kids were too nice to allow oppression to continue under their watch. And since they weren't even from this plane, there wasn't actually anyone Jacques could retaliate against when they did - and by then, Taylor would already have the machines she needed.

There. That was more heroic sounding. Right?

Right.

The sensation of pleasure she felt at concocting that plan, of course, was immediately banished by the knowledge that it was barely even eight in the morning - and she still had to go to school.

She seriously needed to get a time power or something.

Tomorrow is Friday, Choose Two (2)

[ ] Begin Training (Choose a skill or power)

[ ] Have Taylor take some time out to fortify the Heap with Onmyoudo.

[ ] Mem approaches Taylor to ask for help with a big special project to help Dinah and Mun. Something about Odin, a crystal ball and a bird mask, and needing some Dust, thousands of feathers and... one of her eyeballs?

[ ] Show Vicky your plans for a Parahuman sport. (This ends the voting for the sports ball planning, though I'll eventually close it myself)

[ ] You started the work but… the ferry could finish its transformation into a school with only a little more.

[ ] Write In

[ ] Take Time Off (Pick an Extra Social)

Choose a Social Link (these are daily now):

Taylor's parents:

[ ] Danny (3)

[ ] Jess (2)

[ ] Mouse Protector (2)

The Oathbound:

[ ] Trainwreck (2)

[ ] Aspirant (2)

[ ] Parian (2)

[ ] Oliver (2)

[ ] Miss Kim (0)

The Bratpack:

[ ] Aisha (1)

[ ] Dinah (3)

Taylor's kids:

[ ] Mem (3)

[ ] Mun (1)

[ ] Simone (1)

[ ] Yew (1)

[ ] Gram (0)

Taylor's friends:

[ ] Victoria (3)

[ ] Amy (4)

[ ] Clockblocker (4)

Last edited: Oct 17, 2022

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Bowler Hat Guy

Oct 17, 2022

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Threadmarks Hostile Takeover 18.11

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Nov 7, 2022

#49,646

[X] Menagerie (This is the island of Animal People that is demeaningly named after a Zoo. Nice place. Lots of terrorists live here.)

[X] Gram (0)

[X] Have Taylor take some time out to fortify the Heap with Onmyoudo.

[X] Begin Training (Royal Guard)

Current Energy: 4

Current Emulation Status: Here

Current Training: Swordsmanship Skill (7/10) - Complete!

Current Training: Royal Guard (0/10) - (4/10)

Friday, March 25th , 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

"Hey, I thought you guys got a fancy basement or some shit for this now. The hell are you always in my goddamn room for?" Trainwreck complains, one of his metallic arms rising to pull a sleeping mask off of his face - since he almost always sleeps standing up in his armor.

You turn from him, to the upper torso of the robotic woman who greeted his visitors the other day - which is entirely dormant, as though its animating force is absent - and then back to him, lifting a finger to your lips.

"Sssh, she's doing something I've never seen before, and I want to enjoy it." You whisper to the man before gesturing forward with your other hand.

"You get how fucking ironic it is that you came to my bedroom to do super pushups, woke me up, and are now telling me to be quiet, right?" Trainwreck points out. You actually do feel a momentary spike of guilt at that. The Heap definitely has a sub basement you could be doing this in - but you've trained in The Garage for so long that your Master tends to come here by habit more than anything else.

Although, given that it's also functionally Trainwreck's house, you have to admit that in hindsight, treating it as your arrival point for the Heap is kind of rude.

"...Right, sorry." You concede sheepishly - still whispering.

The titanic Tinker shrugs.

"Just sayin'. So? Fuck's going on?" Trainwreck asks again.

"She's- I don't know how to explain it. When you know how to cook eggs in two different ways, but not both at the same time - what's that called?" You offer as you watch Taylor begin to get up and slowly move Nemesis around. The motions are slow - like she is doing a tai chi routine - but there is an uncanny brutality to them that you both recognize and don't.

"…It's called being too stupid to cook two eggs at the same time, chief." Trainwreck drawls at you.

You scowl at him.

"Fine. What happens when you have two powers that do the same thing, in different ways?" You try again.

"I dunno, just use one?" He answers with a lazy shrug. Then - when he notes you scowling at him - scowls back. "Hey, don't ask me Trump questions, I'm a God damn Tinker!" He spits.

Taylor's movements are picking up speed now, ratcheting up from meditative and slow, to moderately paced, until finally they are a whirlwind of flashing steel.

"What happens if you don't want to use just one? What happens if you happen to have the best power ever, and insights from half a dozen legendary swordsmen to cannibalize for your own use?" You ask rhetorically.

The changes to how Taylor is swinging her blade aren't entirely that vast. At the end of the day, the swordsmanship of Dante, and the swordsmanship of Zaraki Kenpachi were still just that - Swordsmanship.

But where your own style prioritized sweeping attacks with overwhelming force, in order to cleanse the hordes of monsters you frequently fight, Kenpachi's was targeted, and focused. If the man made a cleaving attack, it wasn't to hit more than one target - it was to literally cleave off a limb.

Between one breath and the next, everything seems to lock into place for your Master, and Nemesis shifts from its typical katana form to the Khopesh Taylor favours for true combat.

A Khopesh, counter to what many might believe, is not a sword.

It is an axe. It is used as an axe.

And your Master is now scything that axe through the air against a host of invisible targets that you are fairly sure are being mowed down with the exacting proficiency of a Demon Hunter, and the brutal savagery of a deranged serial killer.

Every attack she makes cleaves through a ninety or sometimes one hundred and eighty degree arc around her. The precision you noted her for as Kenpachi is still present, but it exists not in stabbing motions and pinpoint targeting, but in a playing of the angles. It is a more qualitative understanding of three dimensional space, a combat skill that transcends mortal swordsmanship and asks questions like 'what technique do you use to fight something twelve times your size?'.

And when she is done, her weapon coming to an abrupt halt, her expression serene and noble…

You feel a sudden overwhelming sense of danger.

You barely even think before you engage one of your abilities to defend yourself - instincts honed from years of fighting what you could only describe as 'Gods' in Dante's home plane kick into gear, and crimson energy covers your palm as you make use of Royal Guard to deflect Nemesis as it slices through the space your left shoulder should have been in.

-1 Energy

"Wha-" Taylor blurts out, snapping out of her trance with some confusion as your palm crashes into the side of her blade, absorbing the majority of the force behind the attack.

1 Energy

"Hey! Don't break my stuff! That's literally my only rule! Come on!" Trainwreck complains as the force of the attack flows off your deflection and sends one of the many piles of junk filling the room flying in all directions.

"Sorry!" "Sorry." You and Taylor say at once, her earnestly and loudly, and you quietly and dejectedly.

You eye the Khopesh still pointed at you for a moment before coughing once and gently pushing it out of your face with a finger.

"You combine them." You finish your earlier thought for Trainwreck, although you are reasonably sure the irate Tinker doesn't actually care all that much. As with most of the people on this world, the common understanding of Taylor's powers can be happily boiled down to 'They do whatever' - a tact that is nothing if not prevalent amongst your own team, who seem to hue to the belief with a religious fervor.

It would be funnier if it was… less true.

"Cool. Next time, do it somewhere else." Trainwreck says bluntly, casually dismissing the use of a parahuman power in a way that has never been done before and probably won't ever after this. You doubt he grasps how momentous this moment is. Powers aren't supposed to work this way. Sure, you're already quite the outlier as far as powers go, but out and out combining them? That's even more bizarre than your norm.

"I don't think you understand-" You try to explain again, only to get cut off as the sword that is still in your personal space gets replaced by Taylor's excited face. She's got an expression on her face that reminds you of a preteen girl getting a pony, or some other similarly fanciful form of wish fulfillment. Her feet pump up and down as she partially skips on the spot, and she practically vibrates with excitement as she smiles a dopey and too wide smile at you.

This is one of her rare moments of genuine joy and excitement. An expression that has too often lately been replaced by the cold mask of the schemer she inherited from Yukari.

You are happy for her.

"Hey, hey, I know I just figured it out and all, but I really wanna practice with my sword right now-" She blurts out at you.

"I mean we've got some time left so-" You start hesitantly. A bead of cold sweat rolls down your back. You glance at Trainwreck who has studiously begun to ignore you by picking up pieces of the scrap pile that just got knocked over.

"Awesome! Training! Wow I'm glad this version of you can regrow his arms and stuff!" Taylor cheers, quickly cleaving a Gap open behind herself.

Wait, what?

"Wait-" You start to protest before a slender hand slips into your own, begins gently leading you through the Gap to hell like a child leading her father to the candy store.

"I just wanna clarify I will defend myself-" You try again.

"That's why it's fun." Your Master responds with a touch of confusion.

All you can do is sigh.

Friday, March 25th , 2011

Winslow Highschool, Brockton Bay

'I thought they would grow back faster than that!' Taylor apologizes to you.

'My regeneration isn't measured in limbs per second!' You complain sulkily, trailing behind her as she steps into school for the day with Jamie, Gram, and Greg in tow.

It's a new development that she has started teleporting the blond and the sword spirit to school with you each day, and if Taylor had a choice she would probably just bring Jamie and Gram - but she doesn't necessarily mind bringing Greg, for all she was forced into it by her daughter.

"Mom? Is… everything okay?" Gram asks curiously, shooting an unwilling gaze at Greg before speeding up to walk alongside your Master instead of with Jamie and Greg.

"Yeah, why?" Taylor answers quickly, her face going neutral - which isn't the helpful masking technique you're sure she thinks it is.

"Well… you just seem to be sulking…" Gram says slowly. Taylor stares blankly at her for a moment, before allowing her expression to shift a slight frown.

"I… might have annoyed Emmy." She says quietly.

"Really? I wasn't aware that was even possible." Gram says with some surprise.

"Why wouldn't it?" Taylor asks.

"For the same reason I can't annoy my own arm?" Gram returns flatly, pursing her lips.

"First off, I'm disappointed that you see Emmy that way, and second off, go ahead and try that one on Simone - I dare you." Taylor fires back.

"That's not- I don't mean to say that uncle isn't a person, but, has he ever gotten mad at you? Genuinely?" Gram tries again with some frustration, glancing over her shoulder to Greg, who has started to have an animated conversation with Jamie about… footwork?

Your Master has thoroughly fucking corrupted these teenagers.

And you aren't annoyed at Taylor. You're annoyed because of your own limitations. It is within Dante's capabilities to utterly crush your Master, or at the very least, show her that she is not the apex predator of the multiverse she seems to think she is. There are things out there that can hurt her, or even kill her, and you feel like her recent experiences have given her a skewed understanding of her effective power level.

You aren't annoyed at her, you're concerned. Because if there ever comes a time when she is truly outmatched, at this point, will you truly be able to help?

"Well… not… really, but…" Taylor responds tentatively, shooting you a look where you are invisibly sulking behind her. You could just explain your concerns to her, but Dante was never good at 'talking', and it's becoming somewhat of an annoyance.

"What did you do actually? I can't believe your own daughter understands relationships better than you." Gram says with a snort.

Taylor stares blankly at her for a second, seemingly trapped between commenting on the assertion and answering the question, before sighing and choosing the latter.

"I learned this new sword style that involves a lot of cutting people's arms and legs off." Taylor says somewhat unwillingly.

"…And?" Gram presses.

"…And I did a lot of cutting his arms and legs off?" She adds weakly.

Gram stares at your Master with what you can only describe as confused pity for a moment, before responding.

"…I can't help with this." She says decisively.

"I… figured. Thanks for… trying to help?" Taylor offers.

"Are we still training today at lunch? Or do you need to get the… decapitation… under control?" Gram asks in a strained tone.

"Oh, I have it completely under control." Taylor answers instantly, more aware than anyone else of her own self control issues, at least, as they relate to her combat instincts.

"…Mom." Gram says with a sigh.

"What?" Taylor asks quizzically.

"If- if you had it under control… then why did you do it?" Gram asks tiredly.

'Am… am I being scolded by the most socially inept of my children?' Taylor asks you forlornly.

'Yep.' You reply succinctly.

'Are… you still mad at me?' She asks again.

'Nope. This is worth it.' You reply cheerfully, burying your concerns deep in your heart for now. At least, for the rest of this emulation, you have some options for defending your Master in the event that something catastrophic happens. It's a feeling that it's directly at odds with the feeling that you need to go do something that has been welling up in you recently. At the start things were okay, but… Dante isn't accustomed to this… hang around doing nothing, thing you have going on.

But it's not like Earth Bet has open portals to hell you can run around fighting.

'Ass.' Taylor harrumphs at you, although you can feel the relief flowing across her link to you like a tangible thing.

"…It was fun?" Taylor replies rhetorically.

"Mom, you… you can't just do whatever you want because it's fun." Gram replies pointedly.

"Pot, I'd like you to meet kettle." Greg mutters from behind the both of you.

"I do not-" Gram starts.

"You totally do!" Greg fires back, disengaging from his conversation with Jamie to walk up to the rest of you.

"I second that!" A blond girl says as she emerges from a nearby hallway to join the group - pointedly staying on the opposite side of it from Taylor. Lisa and your Master exchange their customary scowl of mutual dislike, then go back to largely pretending to get along.

"Well, fine! What do you two want to do after school today, huh?" Gram snaps at them, crossing her arms in front of her chest with a petulant look on her face.

Lisa and Greg share a look with each other for a moment, one of those couple's moments where you can just tell that volumes of unseen communication are happening beneath the surface, and Lisa makes a go ahead gesture at Greg.

He clears his throat, points firmly at his girlfriend, and says;

"I wanna watch anime instead of sword training!" He declares loudly. The majority of the group stops to turn and stare at him, as though this is the weirdest thing anyone present has said today.

Even though one of those two things makes a lot more sense for a teenage boy to spend his time on than the other.

"Y-you don't like wielding me?" Gram says, her face immediately morphing into a look of hurt and tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

"Party foul! She's faking it!" Lisa immediately shouts when Greg opens his mouth to recant.

"Tch. Lisa, please don't reveal your girlfriend's secrets to our boyfriend. It's very unbecoming." Gram grumbles, her expression returning to normal as though the previous one was never there.

"Just looking out for our boyfriend." Lisa drawls sarcastically back at the sword spirit.

"But- you hate those cartoons!" Gram spits at her.

"Not as much as you." Lisa fires back with a smug smile.

"…What?" Greg says dejectedly. Both women immediately freeze as they realize their debate has quickly segwayed into hurting Greg's feelings.

"…Is now a good time to mention that I need Gram to come to the PRT with me at some point this weekend? I've been kind of ignoring them for a while now, but uh, they're pretty mad about the… the thing… that I'm not supposed to talk about, and I sort of owe them, so…" Taylor says.

"If they need assistance, I believe I can clear the whole team to come, as long as Trainwreck knows ahead of time." Jamie offers, having been watching the proceedings with an impassive amusement.

"I'll see what they need first, but thanks." Taylor says.

She and Jamie opt to quietly extricate themselves from whatever is going on with Gram, Lisa, and Greg. They seem to have their bizarre relationship at least relatively in hand - for all they argue, none of them seem unhappy with things. Not even Lisa.

When you reach Taylor's first class of the day - it's math and no one she knows is actually in it - Taylor is forced to pause as an unpleasant new addition appears to be present in the classroom.

And by 'new addition' you mean that her desk has been replaced by an insanely complex looking edifice of wood and gold, her chair has been replaced with a throne, and a large bouquet of flowers rests on the desk itself, with a little card attached to it.

"Hey." She calls out to a random girl sitting nearby and waiting for the teacher to arrive.

The poor nameless girl stiffens in shock at being addressed, but, to her credit, turns a polite look on Taylor.

"Yes?" She tries tentatively.

"…Do you wanna switch seats?" Taylor asks tiredly. The girl glances behind herself at the throne ostentatiously present in the center of the room, then looks back at Taylor.

"…No?" She half-asks, as though she is unsure if her opinion matters.

"Well, I tried." Taylor mutters, waving a hand that opens a Gap beneath the expensive looking furniture - consuming it instantly.

Then she conjures a normal looking desk and cheap plastic chair out of magic in the spot the throne once occupied, and sits in it.

When the teacher arrives, he spends less than a second staring at the strange magical replacement for Taylor's usual seat.

Then he shrugs and starts the lesson while pointedly ignoring it.

'Five bucks says it was that weird guy from your class with Gladly.' You laugh.

'No bet. I'm gonna kill him. Figuratively.' Taylor responds, before clarifying.

'I mean from a certain point of view, he is getting your attention.' You point out.

Taylor jerks her head back as though she was just slapped, then sighs.

'Why can't he just be a supervillain? Then I could just punch him!' She whines.

'You might have bigger problems, honestly.' You respond with a shrug.

'Bigger problems than a rich weirdo following me around?' She responds dryly.

'Well… yeah. If he keeps getting away with it, people are going to realize you aren't going to punish them for hitting on you.' You point out.

Your Master's response is nothing but a long, low, moan of discontent.

Friday, March 25th , 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

"What, no zany schemes or weird drop in visits on friends you haven't seen in a while today?" You ask your Master sarcastically as you appear in a room she hasn't actually used in a while now.

Her own magic workshop.

"I thought I'd stay in tonight." She drawls back at you, lazily snatching a spool of silver wire and waving her hand at bucket of precious gems that swiftly hovers out of the recess it is stored in, and lands with a thud at her feet.

"And by that, I assume you mean; do a bunch of insane magical bullshit the PRT won't be happy about tomorrow." You reply, earning an annoyed look from your Master, who swiftly kicks the bucket of diamonds, emeralds, and other assorted gems towards you.

"No. Just hobby stuff today, I swear. Grab me a bunch of those in different colours?" She asks, holding up the spool of silver wire and beginning to draw a series of runes in the air that cause the wire to flow upward, then slowly braid itself together into a cord - like dozens of dancing snakes in concert.

"Just… different colours?" You ask dubiously, picking out a handful of easy options right away and then setting to the task of sifting through the bucket for any unique or off-colour gems you can find.

Are red and light red different colours? Probably, right? It's not like you do any magic.

"Yup." Taylor replies absentmindedly, freeing up one hand to beckon impatiently at you without slowing the speed at which she weaves what is beginning to look like a silver necklace. The flowing strands of metal choose that moment to bunch up in several places, and once you hand the handful of gems you have to Taylor she swiftly maneuvers them into the gaps created by the bunching. With that complete, and the gems hovering in the air as stiffly as the silver, she makes a simple tugging motion with one hand - and the silver immediately pulls itself taut around the gemstones, imperceptibly melting around them to create a setting for them.

Then she hands you the entire - probably very expensive, even discounting the magic involved - necklace, and rolls her shoulders.

"Do me a favour and give that to Olly? It's for Madison." She says apathetically.

"That was barely fifteen minutes of effort…" You point out disapprovingly. She rolls her eyes at you.

"You know just because I can finish it in fifteen minutes doesn't mean I can think of it in that time." She points out.

"…Fair… how does it work?" You ask.

"Sucks up her power expression so she doesn't go over the threshold to start glowing, then she can use the power in the gems to shoot people and fly and stuff without having to be loopy while doing it. It's just a battery." Taylor says dismissively.

"…And that took you a while to figure out?" You say suspiciously.

"No, but figuring out how to do it did. You know I'm not actually that good at magic, right?" She grumbles at you.

"Fine, fine. What are you going to be doing while I drop this off with loverboy?" You ask curiously.

Taylor shrugs and takes on an innocent look that you don't buy for even one second.

"More magic?" She offers.

"Uhuh." You grunt back at her before letting it go.

Well if nothing else, she… probably… won't cause too much of a fuss. At least… not before apologizing for the previous one.

You hope.

Tomorrow is Saturday, Choose Two (2)

[ ] Have Taylor take some time out to fortify the Heap with Onmyoudo.

[ ] Mem approaches Taylor to ask for help with a big special project to help Dinah and Mun. Something about Odin, a crystal ball and a bird mask, and needing some Dust, thousands of feathers and... one of her eyeballs?

[ ] Show Vicky your plans for a Parahuman sport. (This ends the voting for the sports ball planning, though I'll eventually close it myself)

[ ] You started the work but… the ferry could finish its transformation into a school with only a little more.

[ ] Planeswalk (Choose a setting: Bleach, Kung Fu Panda, Touhou, RWBY, Nasuverse, Full Metal Alchemist)

[ ] Write In

[ ] Take Time Off (Pick an Extra Social, on the weekends, this can be a second group)

Now what exactly is your Master going to do to physics today?

[ ] Expansion (The grounds surrounding the building swell in size, creating several lots worth of free space.)

[ ] Battle Arena (The Central Courtyard of the Heap becomes permanently enchanted with a protective screen and viewing enchantment, that projects fights happening in it to others in the castle, or, alternatively, to the sky above it.)

[ ] Sorcerous Amplifier (A between the Wardstone and the Tower that allows your Master to temporarily boost her magical strength, enough to allow a normal Wizard to qualify as a siege weapon. Your Master is not a normal Wizard. Weakens the Heap temporarily with each use.) *Special Note, this is a spot boost to battle power usable anywhere - not the simple battery pack it is currently.

[ ] Hyperbolic Murder (Training) Room (Using one of the many portals to hell that are rapidly becoming prominent in the Bay, create a room in the Heap that consists entirely of endless hordes of extremely dangerous monsters.)

[ ] Alchemic Disposal Room (This room is full of premade alchemical arrays that are operated by the Heap, and that turn all of the waste and garbage thrown away on the premises into useful materials and crafting supplies.)

[ ] Nature's Touch I (A magical grove forms on the premises that provides healing from mental anguish and safe rest to all those who stop there. Low level magical herbs can be found throughout the grove, which attracts nature spirits to itself to tend things.)

Choose a Social Link (these are daily now). On weekends, you can choose an entire group to socialize with - but are not forced to.

[ ] Taylor's parents:

Outstanding group tasks: None

[ ] Danny (3)

[ ] Jess (2)

[ ] Mouse Protector (2)

[ ] The Oathbound:

Outstanding group tasks: See how Trainwreck's date went, See how planning is going for Parian's fashion show.

[ ] Trainwreck (2)

[ ] Aspirant (2)

[ ] Parian (2)

[ ] Oliver (2)

[ ] Miss Kim (0)

[ ]The Bratpack (As a group, includes Mem and Mun):

Outstanding group tasks: Train the brats for once. See how Aisha is doing.

[ ] Aisha (1)

[ ] Dinah (3)

[ ] Taylor's kids:

Outstanding group tasks: Unleash your kids on that fuck Jacques. Yew wants to go to college.

[ ] Mem (3)

[ ] Mun (1)

[ ] Simone (1)

[ ] Yew (1)

[ ] Gram (1)

[ ] Taylor's friends:

Outstanding group tasks: None

[ ] Victoria (3)

[ ] Amy (4)

[ ] Clockblocker (4)

411

Bowler Hat Guy

Nov 7, 2022

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Threadmarks Hostile Takeover 18.12

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Nov 10, 2022

#49,758

[X] Mem approaches Taylor to ask for help with a big special project to help Dinah and Mun. Something about Odin, a crystal ball and a bird mask, and needing some Dust, thousands of feathers and... one of her eyeballs?

[X] Planeswalk (Choose a setting: Bleach)

[X] Battle Arena (The Central Courtyard of the Heap becomes permanently enchanted with a protective screen and viewing enchantment, that projects fights happening in it to others in the castle, or, alternatively, to the sky above it.)

[X] The Bratpack

Current Energy: 3

Current Emulation Status: Here

Current Training: Royal Guard (4/10) - (10/10) Complete!

A/N: I CANT MAKE THE IMAGES NORMAL SIZES I'M SORRY JUST DON'T OPEN THE SPOILERS IF YOU DON'T WANT YOUR WHOLE SCREEN TO SHIFT ON MOBILE

Saturday, March 26th , 2011

Hebert Household, Brockton Bay

That morning, you wake up at the usual time. You spend a solid fifteen minutes of training time pretending to be asleep - also like usual, and your Master cleaves a Gap open to the Heap.

That too, is exactly as always.

The first major difference comes from the fact that you don't go to the Heap with her. Instead, you lazily stretch one arm behind your head and then scratch your chin while gazing bleary-eyed around the room.

The clock on the wall says it's 6:17, which means you have thirteen odd minutes until Mem and Mun wake up - so to kill time, you meander around the room picking your Master's laundry off the floor and hurling it across the room to the laundry basket.

Your Master isn't a particularly clean person, at least as far as the organization of her room goes. Which is fine, because it halfway cleans itself, but there are few things here and there for a bored projection to do in its free time.

Taylor is as much your responsibility as she is Danny's at this point, so you figure it's only fair to pick up some of the typical parental duties. Even if you'd never tell Taylor you'd do any of it - she'd probably be equal parts embarrassed and horrified at the servant-like behavior.

As though you do any of this for that brat because you have to anymore. Hah.

At length, you find yourself standing outside the girls' bedroom door at precisely 6:29 in the morning. You very casually check the non-existent watch on your wrist, dust off your knuckles, check your nails - and then bang on the door so loudly it would wake the dead.

"Waaaaakey wakey, you little brats!" You yell cheerfully, happy in the knowledge that Danny, Katherine, and Jess would have left thirty minutes ago, and so, you have no one to disturb except your intended targets.

"Gah! Shut up!" You hear Mun squawk indignantly, accompanied by the sound of a pile of laundry getting knocked over.

"Oh, come on!" She squawks again.

Only a few seconds later, Mem pulls the door open, and stares up at you blandly from within her room.

"...Yes?" She says in a polite, but… almost annoyed sounding tone.

'It can bleed.' You think meanly.

It's remarkable how fun it is to mess with your extended family, really.

"Sooo, I know you brats usually have Saturday off…" You say leadingly.

"...Yes. Goodbye." Mem tries, blinking once at you and then closing the door on you as fast as she opened it.

You hastily stick your foot in the doorway to stop it from fully closing on you.

"Long Memory! What happened to my obedient little niece?!" You sigh melodramatically.

"She's sleepy." Is the white-haired girl's stolid response.

"That's a real pity. Your mom was thinking of giving up her valuable training time to do some one-on-one with you guys." You say once more, overexaggerating how sorry you sound about the whole ordeal.

Mem's expression instantly stiffens, and she pulls the - previously crushing your foot - door back open fully. Then, she stretches a hand out behind her, and a small bundle of black feathers releases a loud squawk as Mun is dragged out from beneath the castle of clothes she'd been nesting in, as though fired from a cannon to land squarely in Mem's palm.

"Mom wants to train." She explains quickly down to the poor bird girl, who is shaking her head in a daze.

"Do you have clean socks?" Mun asks immediately, lunging off of her sister's palm back into the room, and turning back into a human halfway through the fall. She comes up in a light breakfall before frantically setting to digging through the pile of laundry she'd just been sleeping in.

"I'll start breakfast." You say in good humor, rolling your eyes and turning to head downstairs while the girls dress.

Aisha's mom lives on the third floor of a small apartment building that is actually extremely close to the Heap. You had wondered why it was that the usually lazy girl never seemed to have problems getting to the castle in the morning, given the ten minute walk between the two points, so now you can sort of see it.

All of this is immaterial however, for two reasons. For one, you 'borrowed' Danny's truck, and drove there from the Hebert's place, and for the other - Aisha has been living with her brother for a few days now. Apparently their less than pleasant meeting during the kids' fight with team RWBY pushed Brian to actually do something.

So, you drive for another fifteen minutes until you reach the condo in the nice part of town that is her new home address - and promptly jump from the ground level up to the appropriate balcony with Mem under one arm and Mun sitting on your shoulder.

"Alright, call, call." You urge your white-haired niece who withdraws a cellphone from her jacket and pauses.

"...Should we not inform her brother?" She asks hesitantly.

"Shit, you're right. Hang on." You say, putting Mem down and turning intangible so you can glide through the balcony door, past the living room, and out to the front hall, where you promptly turn around, become solid again, and start banging on the door.

"Heeeeeeeeey!" You call loudly and belligerently out.

"Wha- What the hell?" You hear angrily as Brian - who'd been sleeping on the couch when you passed through the living room - audibly falls off the piece of furniture onto the floor.

A couple of minutes and several loud footsteps later - the door opens.

"Hey chief. We're doing a training thing for the girls. Wanna bring Aisha? You can even watch!" You say loudly, so the call can echo into the house for Aisha to hear. Brian winces at the volume, then glares at you.

"I don't think that's a good idea." He says flatly, attempting to close the door on you. You let it, then spend the next two minutes waiting outside until someone pulls it open again.

"Two seconds!" Aisha yelps at you before slamming the door on you. A minute later, Aisha dashes out the door with Mem and Mun, having obviously noticed them on the balcony behind them - you could see the pair from the front door the whole time.

Surprisingly, a groggy Brian stumbles out after her, still glaring at you, but dressed in the same kind of sweats as his sister.

"You hurt Aisha and I swear to God-" He grumbles at you.

"Glad to have you on, buddy! Hey, think of it like this - you're like a soccer mom now!" You cheer as the group heads down in two groups - Brian and Aisha to his car, and you, Mem and Mun to Danny's.

One more brat left.

"Bye, love you, bye!" Dinah yelps quickly to her parents as she flies out the door of her house before the truck is even finished parking. The Alcotts shoot you worried but hopeful looks from the doorway of the home as she practically dives into the backseat next to Mem and Mun.

"Hey! Training or Canary concert?" She asks quickly, squirming over Mem to reach the unwanted middle seat of the truck, and resettling her duffel bag on her lap.

"Woah, hang on - Canary concert? And how'd you know-" You start but then pause as you remember who you're talking to. Dinah smirks at you, then answers anyway.

"Precog stuff. It was an 83% chance you'd show up this weekend. Only a 3.4% chance it was for the concert, but, you know - I can still dream." She jokes with a sigh.

"She always this sassy?" You ask the rest of the occupants of the truck.

"Oh, that's nothing, you should see when she's wrong. Insufferable." Mun jokes.

"It was one time! A ninety percent chance is still less than one hundred!" She defends herself with a sigh.

"I didn't study for that test! You said it would be fine!" Mun grumps back at her.

"If you just did your homework normally-"

You snort at the friendly argument, then choose to tune it out as you pull away to head to your final destination.

The Heap.

Saturday, March 26th , 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

You make your way past the gate with little issue, shooting a jaunty wave at the confused but good-natured guard who stares blankly as your group passes through the gates.

It's rare that you bother to use the front door, after all.

Not too long after that, you pull into one of the few aboveground parking spots dedicated to the people who live in the building, and everyone piles out after you.

"So? Never been in the dojo here before." Brian says cautiously, but not without a twinge of interest in his voice.

"Dojo? Oh, yeah. No, Taylor prefers to do her training a bit… differently. Big on simulations, that girl." You drawl, not even necessarily lying. The manner in which she gets her powers from you has always left her with the greatest impression of, well… last minute montages to gain new skills. She has powers that facilitate teaching, and she's fairly good at coming up with a convincing narrative for that teaching, but…

Well, you get the impression Brian won't appreciate that nuance.

"Different, huh?" Brian says unhappily as you walk directly up to the exterior wall of the Heap and knock on it.

"Testing, testing. One-two - anyone home? You think we could get a quick way in?" You ask curiously, continuing to knock until the tenor of your knocking changes, and you look down to find a metal door now clanging beneath your hand.

"Well damn, it worked. Thanks, chief!" You cheer, patting the wall by the door and turning to yell over one shoulder at the rest of the group.

"Right this way, kids!" You call out, before pulling the door open and-

Walking into the wall behind it.

"Hey!" You complain, blinking at the bronze wall in front of you until Aisha walks past you and straight through it like it's not there.

"Should… should we help him?" Dinah asks curiously as the rest of the group passes through the door, leaving you behind.

"Nah, he'll catch up. He's Emmy." Aisha says dismissively, not even bothering to look back at you.

"…So not a fan of 'chief' then?" You ask the building dejectedly.

In response, the wall in front of you vanishes, revealing a well-lit hallway leading into the bowels of the building that the rest of the group is already well along the path down.

"Noted…" you grunt, stepping through to chase after them.

You whistle as you make your way into the absolutely tremendous room your Master has set up shop in.

"Did you really need all this space?" You ask curiously as you tromp across a room big enough to contain at least a city block or two, and a ceiling you are pretty sure should be impossible without obliterating several of the floors above you.

You chalk it up to the Heap doing Heap things, and promptly choose not to think too hard about it.

"I thought it was about right." Taylor says with a shrug and a stretch, dressed in her workout clothes instead of her costume - something the kids notice immediately as tension leaves their bodies, like the costume is somehow the scariest part of your Master.

"Is someone going to tell me what I agreed to my sister doing anytime soon?" Brian cuts in aggressively.

"Oh, right." Taylor says as though she only just noticed he was in the room. Then she flicks her hand, and lines of energy begin to trace themselves in the air, forming first a framework, then an entire fabricated city street, complete with streetlights, retaining walls, buildings…

And all of it in an eye-searing bright blue.

When the entire construct is done forming, the light glow it gives off dims until you could almost be forgiven for assuming it was blue clay of some sort.

"We'll be doing king of the hill." Taylor says proudly, even as Nemesis appears out of nowhere to run past everyone else so she can climb you until she is sitting on your shoulders. Brian shoots the sword spirit a blank stare, but no one else so much as bats an eye.

"…What's the catch?" Aisha asks hesitantly.

"I'll be starting on the hill. You win if you can make me get off the hill. Ah, I'll be calling out suggestions as you fight - try to do what you can, but we can go over things after the exercise." Taylor says with another stretch.

"No." Brian says immediately.

"Hey, you can't just-" Aisha starts to complain.

"No. You'll get hurt. As your legal guardian I do not give permission to participate in this." Brian insists.

"How about if I don't fight back, and just defend myself?" Taylor interjects calmly.

"That…" Brian begins, seemingly lost for words, but the girls have already huddled up not too far away.

"Okay, if we set up right, we can do it. If she's not gonna fight back, I mean." Aisha begins instantly, earning obedient nods from the other three girls in the huddle.

You snicker.

"Relax, buddy. Hey - maybe you can even join in? I'm sure she wouldn't mind." You offer.

He just glowers at you.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Gram asks you nervously glancing out the faux city block from atop a building with you.

Spoiler: Gram

"Eh, fair is fair. Kinda feels like it's my fault, anyway. Left an expectation, you know?" You say apologetically to her.

"No, I understand." Gram says quickly, furrowing her brow at you.

"Yeah, well…" You trail off, shrugging helplessly as your Master blocks a combination attack from Aisha and Mem working together to trap her in a crossfire of giant magical attacks.

Your Master turns towards the largest attack - a giant fireball from Mem - first, and swiftly swings her arm at it with practiced control as white scales crawl up her arm to absorb the majority of the blow. Then she tries to turn on the barrage of smaller attacks from Aisha, and falters.

She still blocks or dodges the entire barrage, but she only manages to use Royal Guard to block a few of them.

She's still getting the timing down.

Eventually, the ball comes to a standstill, and Taylor drops her stance to stretch again, seemingly pleased by the workout.

"Alright. We can do this every once in a while for practice, if you guys want?" She offers curiously, seemingly having found a surprising amount of pleasure in having other people around for her morning training.

"S-…Sure…" Aisha gasps out, sweating and out of breath from the exercise. She digs her sword into the faux road beneath her and leans heavily on it as Mem slowly shuffles over to her on stiff joints.

"Come on." You say, jumping off the building you are standing on to watch the proceedings and making your way across the room to Aisha as the fake city block begins to vanish into motes of blue light.

"You better not-" Gram immediately begins to hiss under her breath, only to turn to where you're standing - invisibly now - and sigh.

"-leave. Ugh." She groans before her expression firms up and she continues forward.

The moment when Aisha notices her is obvious - while she, her team, and her brother are all chatting animatedly about the session, she abruptly glances over Dinah's shoulder and freezes as her eyes lock with Gram's. Her friends, noticing the change, follow her gaze to Gram, then share knowing looks with each other. Dinah grabs Brian's hand, and as a group they all begin to make excuses to leave - much against Brian's will, which is instantly hilarious to you, as he quickly realizes he has drastically less physical strength than the thirteen year old dragging him behind her.

"...Hello, Aisha. I suppose we've never really spoken before?" Gram offers tentatively, seeming oddly unsure of herself for the otherwise very straightforward girl.

"I- nope. Nu-uh. Not doing this right now." Aisha blurts out, immediately panicking and pushing herself upright to begin trying to leave.

"Please don't leave. I just wish to talk to you, and… apologize. I'm… sorry, that I didn't choose you. A Sword of Choice does not choose lightly, and Fate is not something easily changed, if at all. But look! You don't even need me!" Gram calls to her, stopping her dead in her tracks.

"That's not fair." Aisha mutters, not turning back around.

"You've got your own sword to make famous, you don't need-" Gram continues.

"That's not fair!" Aisha loudly snaps back at her, her shout echoing across the large empty room as she drops Guardian Angel to the ground with a clatter, whirling around on Gram with her fists clenched at her sides and tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

The two of them stare each other down silently. Aisha breathing heavily in frustration, anger and a mess of emotions too complicated to untangle, while Gram looks on in worry and uncertainty, patiently waiting for her to calm down.

"...He would be proud of you, you know? Sigurd, that is." Gram offers eventually, making Aisha freeze in place as her breath catches in her throat, a pained grimace overtakes her features as the tears begin rolling down her eyes. At that, Gram startles in surprise and quickly glides forward to pull her into a hug.

"Still not fair…" Aisha sniffs quietly as her voice cracks, yet still returns the hug as all the tension in her body drains away, and she slumps into the slightly older girl.

"Life... tends not to be. My former wielder did not exactly die… happy." Gram states with pursed lips.

"Yeah, well… I'm gonna be better than him anyway." Aisha says, still very quietly. Gram's expression shifts to one of surprise for a moment, before a pleased smile spreads across her face.

"I'm sure you will." She says, lifting a hand from the hug to stroke the shorter girl's hair.

"And I'm gonna beat that dork you're with, too." Aisha repeats more firmly, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve.

"I haven't been around for very long, but I suspect there's room for more than one Hero here." Gram responds dryly, but with a note of tenderness in her tone.

"But only one 'best'." Aisha points out, lifting her head from the embrace with the other girl to stare at the ceiling like she is searching for the owner of the room she is currently in.

"On that, I think we can agree." Gram says with a sharp-edged smile.

You roll your eyes at the pair.

The unfortunate thing is, they're right. There can only be one 'greatest' hero.

Well, you're sure Taylor will retire eventually.

Right?

Saturday, March 26th , 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

When you catch up with your Master, she is relaxing in the kitchen with the rest of the kids, waiting patiently for a series of hovering pots and pans to produce what looks like bacon, eggs, and pancakes in perturbingly high amounts.

You know for a fact that your Master lacks any kind of power that would allow her to eat more than her body weight in unhealthy food, but she still regularly does it anyway, which is just one among the many peculiarities that originally drew you to her as a host.

Naturally, you appear next to her and pull a chair out so you can also partake.

It's not every day that the Heap is this nice to you, but you suppose you earned some points for helping Aisha and Gram clear things up, because for once, that accursed building doesn't screw with you. It just puts a stack of pancakes and a bottle of maple syrup in front of you the moment you sit down, and leaves you alone.

"I'm telling you, you can't explain where I have to go fast enough for it to matter!" Mun complains, pointing a fork at Dinah who rolls her eyes at the accusation while daintily lifting a sectioned off piece of bacon with her fork to her month.

"Mm, you just don't listen. I give you more than enough time to move." She counters, tilting her head towards Mem and Aisha - who had walked into the room not long after you had.

"They manage just fine." She points out.

"Yeah, well, I actually have to fly with actual wings - I can't just walk on air to turn on a dime. I need more warning than that!" Mun resists.

"I only barely made some of those corrections as you called them out, Dinah. She's not wrong. It'd be easier if we could see it visually, or have like, a warning system in place." Aisha posits, shrugging at Dinah's look of betrayal and Mun's look of triumph.

Then the leader of the team turns to the bird girl and continues.

"And you really do need to listen better. Sometimes we had to change our whole approach because you didn't listen when we said not to do something. You're too reckless for someone that doesn't have an Aura." She points out.

"...You need to drill maneuvers ahead of time." Brian speaks up, earning surprised looks from everyone else, who had mostly been ignoring him.

"Go on." Taylor urges him with a 'continue' motion she makes with her fork before shoving an entire pancake into her mouth.

Brian stares blankly at her for a second before slowly elaborating.

"You had some good ideas, but none of you thought about any of them until you needed them. You need to plan ahead, practice what you're going to be doing ahead of time, so there's no confusion when someone calls a play." He explains, slowly uncrossing his arms and approaching the table like a wild animal being offered food.

"I have an idea." Mem speaks up for the first time so far, drawing everyone's attention to her sparkling eyes and glowing expression.

And by 'drawing everyone's eyes' you mean, 'everyone is immediately concerned'. Because few things excite Mem, like-

"I will require some Dust and one of mother's eyes, though." She adds.

-horrific magical experimentation.

"...No, but explain?" Taylor says with a sigh, ignoring the chuff of mild indignance that Mem gives off at the instant rejection.

"I have noticed, primarily against Ruby and her friends, that our team is lacking the versatility of owning a weapon. Myself and Aisha have weapons at hand, but Dinah and Mun - the two of us who actually need it most - do not. I would like to rectify this." She insists.

"...Which is something you need one of my eyes for." Taylor notes suspiciously.

"Yes." Mem nods at the assertion.

"...Do my eyes grow back if one gets ripped out? Does it hurt?" Taylor asks, turning towards you.

"Depends. For me? Definitely. For you? Not sure. Might take a while - you're not healing at the same speed as I do. And why wouldn't it hurt?" You ask in confusion.

"I dunno, I thought that since your whole fighting style is based on not caring if I cut you in half-"

"I do, I definitely do care when you do that-"

"That eventually a pain tolerance or something must set in, right? Otherwise it's just masochism." Taylor finishes, watching you shrewdly.

"Sorry, it never stops hurting. Actually, regrowing new nerves and stuff all the time means you can't get used to the pain. It's a fresh one every time." You say with a smirk.

"...Fun…" Taylor says dejectedly, before turning back to her kids.

"...I'll see if someone can grow me an extra eyeball or something, you can't have these ones - I'm using them." She says eventually, to which Mem looks displeased, but ultimately accepting.

"Wait, no, you're just gonna get someone to grow you a clone of your eye to give to a child for weird experiments?" Brian interjects in obvious distress.

The table at large shares knowing looks with each other, then shrugs as your Master turns to him with a lazy smile on her face.

"Yes?"

"You get used to it." Aisha chimes in, stealing the majority of the bacon on offer in lieu of even touching the pancakes.

"I'd rather not." Is Brian's tired response.

You carefully place first the lettuce, a sunny-side-up egg, some peameal bacon, and a tomato slice on the toasted bun in front of you, then grab a bottle of mayo from nearby and squeeze out a little heart on it.

Then you put the top of the bun over the rest of the sandwich, shift the entire thing over to the plastic wrap, and bundle it up, before throwing it wantonly into the Gap next to you.

"You got everything you need?" You call over your shoulder at your Master, who is throwing bottles of water and other assorted camping supplies like a tent, a cooler full of soda, and the like into another Gap she has positioned in the living room.

You figure between that, and the three or four dozen sandwiches you just made, you're as prepared as you're going to be for a jaunt to a dimension you have no frame of reference for.

Any other plane, you are sure you would have enough context from your emulation to at least form a picture of how things worked.

But the first you, the you that you think you might hate the most of all your emulations, was so overwhelmingly mono-focused on fighting that his grasp on the world around him was questionable at best.

"Should be good! I don't think we'll need half of this stuff, though. Well, the sandwiches maybe. Depends on if I work up a sweat." Taylor says pleasantly, though the murderous glee in her eyes is self evident.

Your Master could - loosely - determine what was behind each of the bizarre holes in the Gap that lead to other planes, and by the token, had chosen the very first one for one reason, and one reason alone.

She wants to see how she stacks up against you. The first you.

"Well…" You say slowly, glancing around the kitchen and living room of the house which are, frankly, a mess from all the cooking and packing you've been doing this morning.

"Should we clean up before leaving?" You ask hesitantly, pulling off the bright pink cooking apron your Master had forced you to wear.

Joke's on her, you look cool in this too.

"We'll get it on the way back?" She offers impishly, clearly eager to get going.

"Totally. Tooootally." You agree with her, quickly stepping up next to her as she cleaves a Gap open, and the pair of you step through it.

Saturday, March 26th , 2011

Soul Society, Another Afterlife

"Huh. So… the afterlife is a medieval Japanese city?" Taylor asks curiously as the two of you step through the Gap and arrive in a bland-looking city street. The roads are paved in what looks like granite, and all the nearby buildings have a traditional Japanese bent to them - all paper doors and the like.

'Seems like it.' Your respond over your link, maintaining a wary watch on your surroundings.

It's not that either of you have failed to notice the two men staring angrily at each other in the middle of the road. It's just that it isn't Taylor's style to arrive in a new location in a normal fashion.

Not that she would ever admit that.

"Oi. Back off if you know what's good for you. I got first dibs." Zaraki Kenpachi, in all his glory demands from your Master - not even acknowledging you exist. His sword is sheathed, his expression is bored, and his hair is in its characteristic 'insane spikes with bells on them' style.

Spoiler: Zaraki Kenpachi

You… really don't miss that.

Either way, this is good. You were kind of worried that the ghost samurai people would be able to see you when you were doing your ghost impression.

"You-!" Taylor barks before clamping her mouth shut and exhaling sharply through her nose. Seemingly with great effort, she turns her head to examine the slightly bruised-looking kid with the bright orange hair who is observing her with a wary air.

"Hey, you're fighting him right now, right?" She asks, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at Kenpachi, who has paused to stare with some confusion at the symbol emblazoned across her back.

'Eleven' in beautiful flowing calligraphy.

The exact same as the symbol on his back. The symbol that belongs only to one person. The leader of the eleventh squad, and the most powerful fighter in this backwards-feudal-ass afterlife.

You can actually see his itty-bitty brain trying to decide if he cares or not, before promptly pretending he simply didn't see it.

"Yeah. You got a problem with that?" The orange haired kid growls at your Master with a strangely deep voice for a teenager. A strangely familiar voice, at that.

Spoiler: Ichigo Kurosaki

"Cool. Can I go next? I'd prefer to fight Em- Him. I'd prefer to fight him. But if you can beat him, then you work too, I guess." Taylor says dismissively, eyeing the lanky but well muscled boy's frame and then shrugging.

"Won't even give me a break, huh? Why not just come at me all at once, you damn Soul Reapers?" The orange haired kid asks.

"First, I'm not a Soul Reaper. I don't even know who you are. I just came to fight that guy." Taylor says bluntly.

"Kenny! Kenny! She's stupid!" A high pitched child's voice rings out in response to your Master's statement.

"Hey! You take that back! Yours is stupid!" Nemesis counters instantly, and you turn back to Kenpachi to find two pink-haired preteens crawling all over him as they slap and hiss at each other.

Spoiler: Yachiru, & Nemesis

"Nu uh! Kenny is way cooler than that thing!" The pink-haired midget that looks so similar to, but is definitely not Nemesis declares, pointing at your Master.

You turn to said Master in time to catch her eye twitching at that.

"...You… you are so lucky someone else was here first." She grunts, stepping away from the entire area and jumping on top of a nearby building to watch.

"And try not to get eviscerated!" She calls back down to Kenpachi, almost as an afterthought.

Right. You told her about getting eviscerated by a guy with orange hair once, didn't you?

"I don't need your advice! Just sit over there and wait!" Kenpachi barks back at her in a comical fashion.

"Why the hell are they fighting?" The orange haired kid - you plumb the depths of your memory from when you were emulating Zaraki Kenpachi and come up with 'Ichigo' - mutters under his breath.

You snicker at him, then join your Master on the roof of the nearest building, where there is a black cat staring curiously at her.

'New friend?' You ask curiously.

'Do cats go to heaven? How does the afterlife work here? This feels stupid.' She responds blithely, carefully stretching a hand out to try to pet the thing.

It takes a single step back but continues to stare at her, avoiding the touch.

"...Do I just have bad luck with cats? The birds love me…" She muses to herself.

Below you, the usual pre-fight banter goes on. Blah blah I'm here to defeat you, blah blah I have to keep going, blah blah.

You and your Master wait patiently for the fighting to start, and are swiftly joined by the pink-haired girl who had been hanging around Kenpachi earlier.

"Yachiru." You say with a smile, appearing opposite her - sandwiching the girl between yourself and your Master on the rooftop. She doesn't seem concerned by this fact.

"Weird guy I don't know!" the pink-haired girl cheers at you, giggling without a care at your sudden appearance.

"I'm surprised at how well you're taking this." Taylor asks her curiously, twitching her head to the side as Kenpachi loudly and proudly declares that he'll allow Ichigo to take a free shot on him.

The orange-haired boy does, which is comical because his blade stops on Kenpachi's shoulder, doing approximately no damage to him.

And then Ichigo's hands start to bleed.

Yachiru shrugs.

"You aren't that scary." She says, gesturing down at the fighting below as though to emphasize what 'scary' actually is to her.

"That's the inevitable result of two spiritual beings ramming into each other! The weaker one loses!" Kenpachi declares to his foe. His foe who… starts to run away?

"Hey!" The captain barks after him, giving chase as they disappear up an alley.

"Like a dog with a toy." Taylor mutters before standing and dusting herself off. Then she pauses and eyes Yachiru.

"...You want a ride? You're kind of like my sister-in-law, sort of." She says with a conflicted expression on her face.

"Hah? No thanks. You need all your strength if you wanna survive Kenny after this!" Yachiru responds dazzlingly, before dashing off in pursuit of the ongoing fight.

"...What about-" She turns hopefully towards the cat, only to find it already dashing off after the pink-haired girl.

"...That thing is definitely magic." Taylor complains before giving chase herself.

"Probably." You concede.

By the time you catch up with the pair, it is to find Ichigo smiling triumphantly, and Kenpachi bleeding from an open chest wound - and laughing.

"Finally." Taylor mutters in a bored tone. You can see why. Until now this… hasn't been that impressive. It's just been two guys haphazardly flinging their swords at each other. Sure they seemed to have a lot of power but… that's about it.

"Sorry, but… I can't die here." Ichigo gasps, before taking a second to regain his breath and spitting at Kenpachi.

"If I do… everything I hold dear will be destroyed!" He declares loudly, and even though you can't actually feel spiritual power, it's close enough to demonic power that you can vaguely tell the orange-haired little bastard has powered up, or… something.

Certainly he seems capable of hurting his enemy now, which he demonstrates in a series of back-and-forths with the white-clad captain that leaves Kenpachi laughing maniacally.

"Hey, hey, hey! You can do it!" The man cheers, before leaping back into things with a much more familiar slasher smile spread across his face.

""He's having fun."" Taylor and Yachiru say at the same time, before turning to stare at each other.

"The other guy's not bad either, though." Taylor adds, seemingly reevaluating Ichigo.

"How old was he again?" She asks, turning to you.

"I dunno, do I look like I've ever raised a teenager?" You return to her in confusion. Your Master has the gall to lift a finger to point at herself, and you roll your eyes at her.

"You don't count." You sigh. She continues to stare at you expectantly so you brush your hand through your hair and try to guess.

"I dunno, fifteen? Sixteen? His balls clearly dropped early though, the kid's voice has bass. He sounds kind of familiar, though…" You offer with a frown and shrug.

"Hmm. Too bad he's gonna die. Well, no, I'll heal him afterwards, obviously, but he'll probably be too tired to go a round with me after this." Taylor says with a forlorn sigh.

"You two are weird." Yachiru opines.

"Nah, we're just a different flavor of the same ice cream. Look." You say, pointing first down at Kenpachi - who appears to be having the time of his life, having found someone who can even manage to injure him as he gets progressively more cut up and bloody - and then at your Master.

Who is wearing the exact same expression.

"It's a big multiverse." You explain, when the pink-haired shinigami turns an entirely serious expression on you that is utterly at odds with her previous air-headed demeanor.

"Who-" she starts to ask, but your Master - who became too absorbed in the fighting below to listen to either of you, interjects.

"It's almost over." She notes, and you glance back down at the street below.

"I don't need a magic sword! I don't need a seal! There never was one! My spiritual pressure is so strong, what would be the point?! When I want to have a good fight..!" Kenpachi roars as his blade locks with Ichigo's and the two glare at each other across steel.

"I just don't swing as hard." Kenpachi finishes, rearing back and stabbing straight through his opponent's sword, to impale him through the chest.

"Welp. Looks like I'm up." Taylor muses, apparently immediately losing interest in Ichigo as his body hits the floor.

"Give it a second." You caution her before she jumps down.

"Huh?" She grunts, turning to you. You notice that the cat is gone, but ignore it.

"His voice reminds me of a guy who would probably get back up from this." You note with a frown.

"What a boring end." Kenpachi grunts below you, turning to stare up at the rooftop towards your Master.

"Give it a minute!" You call down to him, waving your Master to sit.

Any minute now…

As though waiting for exactly that thought to react, Ichigo's body begins to pulsate with power, and the surroundings practically vibrate with the sheer weight of his soul as he pushes himself to his feet.

"There it is!" You cheer, pumping your fist once.

"Oh hey. He's healing. Slowly though." Taylor points out curiously as the gaping hole in the kid's chest slowly stops bleeding.

"Sorry, but I don't have time to waste here. I'm gonna finish it in one strike." Ichigo says through his ragged breathing.

"In one..? No. No." Kenpachi mutters under his breath, growing louder only at the end with his final 'No'.

"It's just getting started! It only just got fun! We should draw it out! As long as possible!" He screeches, before diving back in to continue his rapid assault on the beleaguered teen.

"How did you get back up!?" Kenpachi asks in a crazed tone as his foe's blade rips across his chest in a spatter of blood.

"How'd you suddenly get strong!?" He insists, chasing after the rapidly retreating Ichigo, not giving the boy even a single moment to 'wind up' whatever final strike he was obviously planning on using to end things.

"Aaaah! Who cares! I don't get it! But who cares! Right now, this is the best!" He cries out joyously as he is slashed again, ignoring the wound to pivot and make a rapid stab that only just barely grazes his foe's cheek.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! You're gonna die!" Ichigo demands as he continues to retreat.

You hear your Master snort next to you at the question, one she no doubt finds exactly as stupid as Kenpachi does.

You worry about your Master, sometimes.

"Nothing! You're the one who's messed up! You're so strong! Why won't you fight?!" The captain insists, pressing his attack.

"Cus I'm not crazy!" Ichigo complains, pushing the other man back enough that there is once more some distance between them.

"Hahaha! This is great! Hey, hey, I'm gonna go all out, okay?!" Kenpachi demands, sounding for all the world like an excited child and not a murderous psychopath.

Well, you suppose the only difference between those two things is what they happen to be doing when they laugh actually, so…

Maybe not that different after all.

"God damn-" Ichigo curses, not daring to rush at the other man for fear of what 'going all out' seems to mean.

"Don't die, alright?! This was what I needed! A-"

""-Worthy opponent."" Kenpachi says at the same time as your Master, who is watching two grown men liberally attempt to murder eachother with the kind of unrestrained excitement and interest teenage girls usually reserve for things like boy bands.

A shudder runs down your spine at the words, though you can't fully explain why, and you observe with some minor trepidation as Kenpachi does nothing more complicated than pull his eyepatch off, revealing a number of slavering mouths on the inside of the cloth that give you the damn creeps just to look at.

Your Master could not possibly be more engaged by what is going on beneath you, which is why you are surprised when a man with the dumbest looking mask you have ever seen teleports behind the lot of you and gets on one knee.

"Captain Kenpachi, urgent orders from-" The man pauses, having clearly fixated on the white haori your Master is wearing before actually looking at her as a person.

"Captain…Kenpachi?" He asks dumbly.

"Hey." Yachiru says in an oddly serious tone, turning around with a menacing air about her.

"Piss off." Taylor says, mirroring the smaller girl's demeanor.

"It- it's a first class order from-" The man starts to insist. Taylor clicks her tongue and stretches a hand out towards him with her pinky outstretched.

"Skadoosh." She mutters, dropping her pinky the second she has a grip on his robe. You assume he could have dodged, but also, he probably didn't think he had to.

Which is kind of funny, given the look of surprise on his face as he turns gold and then vanishes into another dimension.

"We aren't gonna forget that guy in there like that one time, right?" You ask curiously.

"Nah, I'll remember this time." Taylor dismisses you instantly before turning back to the fighting.

"I think I like you. Hey, hey, you're gonna fight Kenny next, right? Can you do that?" Yachiru asks, gesturing down to where Kenpachi and Ichigo are standing not too far apart, with the power surrounding them steadily growing in intensity until even you can physically see it crushing the earth around them.

"I've got a trick or two." Taylor says with a thin smile.

"That's the cheap trick you've kept up your ass this whole time?" Ichigo mocks the Captain, nodding towards his removed eyepatch.

"Trick? Hah! This damn thing isn't a trick. All it does is suck up all the power I'm too lazy to control. Now? Now I'm gonna use all of it to kill you." The Captain crows with glee. Ichigo's jaw clenches at the admission, but the heightening of his own power doesn't stop, and in fact, matches his opponent's stellar increase in strength.

"Look, you can do it too! Haha! Oh man, I love this!" Kenpachi cheers.

Then the two rush at each other at once - and Taylor's face immediately sours.

"Wait! Wait, wait, wait! You can't double KO each other! When's my turn!?" She screeches as both men mutter something to each other - then fall into a puddle of their own blood.

"Hahaha!" Yachiru cackles as the two jump down to the ground to examine the fallen men.

"Just- just wait I'll heal you, and then we can all fight! We can take turns!" Taylor yelps manically, stretching her hands out with a golden glow surrounding them to touch both men.

"Thank you, but I would rather not trust a complete stranger." A deep masculine voice issues from in front of you, and it takes you a moment to realize the cat is there, and it sounds like an aged old man.

"No, no, I promise I just wanna fight! Please!" Taylor asks rapidly, attempting to stretch her hand past the cat - which flickers and vanishes, along with Ichigo's barely breathing body.

Only to reappear on a nearby rooftop faster than you can easily perceive.

Which is… very, very, fast.

"Apologies, old ancestor. But you should leave things like this to the younger generation." The cat calls down to her before vanishing again.

"Old what now?" Taylor blurts out, turning around to reach for Kenpachi instead.

"You talk funny!" Yachiru pleasantly explains, having already picked the man up and started to walk away with him.

"Hey! Come on! Just let me heal the guy!" She complains, standing up to follow after the pink haired girl.

"Sorry, I was gonna, but-" Yachiru says with an apologetic look on her face.

"It isn't your place." A new voice interjects, as someone else magically friggin' teleports in front of you.

Spoiler: Retsu Unohana

"Okay, can all of you do that? Can someone please explain it to me?" Taylor complains as the woman - who has long dark hair that is tied into a single large braid in front of her - leisurely draws her sword.

"When exactly did you earn that haori?" She asks, ignoring your Master's question and turning to swing her sword towards Kenpachi. It almost instantly expands, without a command or verbal order of any kind, something your Master only recently became capable of doing.

Strangely, instead of becoming a more dangerous weapon, the entire blade expands into what you can only describe as a car-sized cross between a mantaray and a toad - an image it promptly reinforces by opening its gigantic maw and swallowing Kenpachi and Yachiru whole.

"Don't forget that guy you sent away!" Yachiru offers as she happily vanishes down the thing's gullet.

"It was given to me." Taylor responds taciturnly, eyeing the hovering creature as it deftly floats into the air and then zooms away into the distance.

"By… who?" The woman presses, and it occurs to you what you find so unsettling about her.

She has that un-smile. The same one Yukari Yakumo was fond of. It does the exact opposite of what a smile is meant to do. It isn't comforting. It isn't companionable.

It's just scary.

"By- look, you won't believe me, probably, but there's a multiverse right? You know, like, in one universe you turn left, and in another universe, you turn right and get hit by a car?" Taylor tries to explain, obviously dreading having to get into this when she was previously so excited to be able to get into a fight.

Point of View: Retsu Unohana

Today wasn't going well.

Invaders in Soul Society? It was unpleasant, but a cursory scan of the auras the invaders put off was enough to lose her interest. None of them was strong enough to truly put up a fight against the strongest Soul Society had to offer. Truthfully, they barely even had the strength to put up a fight against the second string of fighters under their command.

It smacked strongly of politics that such an unprecedented invasion of Soul Society was being met with this… deliberate chaos. Any two Captains could swoop in on any of the invaders and have them captured in a heartbeat.

But none of them were ordered to do so.

Perhaps that was why Sousuke Aizen had died. She had never been especially close with the man, but as a fellow Captain of the Gotei 13, they could be called coworkers, if nothing else.

And regardless of how they might feel about each other, the loss of a Captain was a serious blow to Soul Society. And it was strange… because she couldn't sense a single invader who would be able to achieve a kill on one of them.

Until now anyway.

Retsu Unohana, Captain of the Fourth Squad and effectively the head healer of the Gotei 13 had several questions for the young looking woman in front of her.

And she had very little patience for this… nonsense.

"Behold, the manner of mine arrival. 'Tis a means of folding space betwixt-" She was explaining, lifting her hand to do… something. Something Unohana's instincts told her would be… unwise.

So she jetted forward, flash stepping in front of the bizarre girl wearing haori that denoted her as the leader of the Eleventh squad, of her squad, and tripped her. She scythed one leg out at blinding fast speeds, and grabbed the girl by the skull with her open palm - then slammed her skull into stone below them both with just enough force to hurt.

Which is to say, the road surrounding them fractured as though it had just been struck by a meteor.

"Just a name, please." She said neutrally, seeking an immediate answer to her most pressing question.

She was not mad. She was not seething at the disrespect on display in front of her. She was not.

"The one… who trained this one…" The girl coughed out, her eyes going wide with what Unohana assumed was fear until she started smiling from ear to ear like a lunatic.

Like a familiar lunatic, actually.

"Was Zaraki… Kenpachi." She hissed- before the girl's entire body tensed, and she somehow managed to buck enough to free her legs from beneath Unohana's mount, retracting and then kicking them out to slam into her chest with the force of a cannonball.

Unohana could only blink helplessly as she was sent flying back… about two feet. Where she reoriented herself to land on a platform of reishi in the air.

"Naive! These robes we wear, they denote strength, do they not?!" The girl called cheerfully at her, her archaic method of speech grating on Unohana's ears.

She had been there when people spoke like that. This? This sounded like someone taught her how to do it wrong, and had done it on purpose. It was laughable.

"...Yes. Yes they do. Allow me to show you." Unohana said calmly, stepping off her platform and back onto the damaged ground beneath her.

"If you'll wait just a moment." She offered, her eyes narrowing at the girl despite her ever-present smile.

It was like dealing with a tiny female Zaraki. Has the man ever had children? Did he even know how? Her blood shouldn't boil at the idea of punishing the girl but when she felt it, that slight ache in her torso where the girl had kicked her, she couldn't help but want to cut loose.

Just a little.

Everyone else was doing it, apparently.

And this was an intruder. She was supposed to capture her.

There, conflicting goals - reconciled.

"Are you even aware of what you are wearing?" She asked placidly as she waited for Minazuki to return to her. Her shikai was fairly quick, when she needed it to be, and she could already sense that it had deposited Zaraki and Yachiru at the Squad Four headquarters - so it wouldn't be too much longer now.

"These rags? I dare not say. What right do you have to question me?" The girl asked smugly, and Unohana could feel her eyebrow twitch with annoyance at the.. Disrespect.

"The first leader of that Squad… of the Eleventh. They were the first Kenpachi. And for as long as the squad has existed, to become its leader, to wear that Haori, you would have had to defeat the previous Kenpachi. It's a title. It belongs to the greatest murderer in all of Soul Society. It belonged… to me." She explained as Minazuki returned to her, flying into her hilt and liquifying so that its tremendous bulk could return to the form of the sword she was so intimately familiar with.

She was the greatest healer in Soul Society.

But originally, she had only learned how to heal people so her fights could last longer. She sometimes thought people forgot that.

Maybe she was getting old?

Well now she was even more annoyed.

"Minazuki-" She began, gently placing her hand on the hilt of her sword and eyeing the girl suspiciously. She made no move to attack, but she did draw her own sword. There was something.. Wrong with it. She felt an innate sense of incorrectness from that sword, as though she instinctively knew it shouldn't exist.

"Oppose-"

"End. All. Things." She declared, unleashing her Bankai while taking care not to allow its effects or her spiritual pressure to spread too far away.

It would be a pity to kill everyone in the area just for existing near her.

Spoiler: Unohana's Bankai

"Nemesis!" The girl cried out joyously, immediately leaping forward with what looked like a Khopesh in hand that she brought down with all the strength of a rampaging demon. Unohana, of course, dodged.

Her Bankai really only did one thing. It wasn't complicated, it wasn't unique, it just… was. So even as the girl's aura spiked, and she felt a sudden drastic decrease in her own abilities, she was calm.

Because, while her shikai could heal with its stomach acids… her Bankai… well, her Bankai just turned the entire area around her into a stomach. One with very real, very painful acid in it.

The wave of blood red ichor that flowed from her sword engulfed the girl as it exploded outward, melting through her clothes, her skin, her muscles…

Really, the victory was almost anti-climactic.

"Ow! Ow!" The girl whined, leaping into the air to try to avoid the acidic spew only to realize the area was entirely saturated with her power, which had formed into a dome overhead that fairly well dripped with the painful ichor. Her clothes were a mess, clearly not being designed for combat of any kind, and her arm, leg, and the side of her torso on the side of her body she carried her sword with were basically just a skeletal system held together by the last vestiges of a ligament system.

At first.

Unohana watched with interest as she visibly healed enough for skin to start regrowing over her.

And she was still smiling.

Maybe she was good enough for-

Unohana froze as an unfamiliar feeling shot down her spine. There were many afterlives. Soul Society was merely the kindest of them all. For the truly evil, for the genuine sinners… there was Hell. And there were the demons that filled it, intent on torturing them day in and day out.

And that… that was the aura that flowed off the girl as a wave of energy flowed off her, and she transformed.

At first, Unohana thought it was a Bankai. That would track, at least. She couldn't possibly imagine what kind of sick-minded individual would drag a demon out of hell and then give it a Zanpakuto and training.

Actually… that was a lie. She could think of at least two of them.

She made a mental note to find that degenerate Mayuri later.

But no… what she was looking at… it was definitely not a human anymore.

"Hark. I shall be applying myself now. Ware." The girl called down to her. The chitin-like white armor that covered her horrible form seemed resistant but not immune to the acid dripping down upon her, but it too seemed to regenerate. Similar to, but not unlike a Hollow. Smoking flesh and bone sizzled off of her as rolled her shoulders - and then she moved, appearing in front of Unohana so quickly that for a moment she thought the monster must have learned the Flash Step between asking about it and now.

But… no. She wasn't using that technique. She lifted her blade - now a deep crimson red thing that dripped malevolent fluid - and flicked it upward to deflect the descending strike the girl leveled at her, only to have to twist out of the way of a retaliatory punch to her diaphragm that set the air alight as it passed through the space she was standing in.

What followed was a blistering barrage of high speed attacks that raised the temperature wherever they passed, and while she was initially interested in how the girl, or monster, was doing it…

"Is this… it?" She asked almost sadly, parrying another wild kick to the skull. She was good, very good actually. If she knew the flash step, or had more practice facing off against other people that could keep up with her, Unohana had no doubt she would be a menace to most. But she was still missing the spark. That… little something extra she had felt in Zaraki.

The bloodlust.

This girl didn't want to kill - she just wanted to fight.

And it left her sorely lacking.

With a sigh, Unohana ratcheted her speed upward, switching from the passive observation of her opponent to actively harrying her, weaving counter attacks and kicks of her own into the melee.

The change in the situation was abrupt, and obvious, as even with her improved abilities the interloper was pushed back, suffering more and more wounds. For each slash that Unohana's blade left on her, there was an unhealing, blackened scar where her armor failed to heal.

At this rate, the fight would be over in no time. A disappointment, but, well.. She supposed not everyone with some potential could be suited to entertaining her.

In the end, the only one that really got her blood pumping was-

"Fine." The girl said grouchily, making some distance between them and holding her sword up.

"My blade doth cry for blood. A pity." She lamented in that odd way of speech.

Against her better judgment… Unohana waited. No one else really needed her at this exact moment and she still technically hadn't gotten a good answer out of the girl yet, so…

She would wait.

Slowly, the demon in front of her lifted its sword skyward, and the power rolling off of her in uncontrolled waves ratcheted up another level.

"Scourge The Heavens, Nemesis Campestris." She called.

And… several things happened at once. The girl hurled her sword into the air, where it became first a girl, and then a… she wanted to call it a spider, but it grew to such proportions so quickly that it rapidly left her line of sight.

For another… her Bankai turned off. Actually… everything turned off. Suddenly, Retsu Unohana felt like a completely mundane human. She couldn't feel any spiritual power, she couldn't use her Bankai, she couldn't even maintain enough power to step on air as was the norm for Shinigami 'flight'.

She found herself very abruptly and dazedly standing on the ground, holding an entirely ordinary sword.

A sword she instantly raised to defend herself from the attack she was sure was coming… only to meet with nothing. Looking up, she found that hers was not the only situation that had changed. The girl was no longer clad in that demonic armor, and seemed to be as mundane as she was. Her hair had turned a jet black, and lost much of the life it had once carried. She was clad in a simple monk's robe, and was slowly adjusting a series of bandages that had appeared on her hands and uncovered feet.

Overhead, the torso of a giant metallic spider shifted, and its eight jagged metal legs crashed down in the neighborhood around her.

Like a cage. Which, she realized, was exactly what this was.

How could she possibly escape that thing if she was no more powerful than a normal human woman?

Slowly, a pleased smile spread across Unohana's face. At least, until the girl spoke - reminding her of her bizarre verbiage.

"Gaze upon mine Bankai. Within these bounds, there is but one truth, but one power." The girl declared in a bored tone - almost as though she thought she had won by default now that her Bankai was in play, which was… laughable, really.

"These hands." She stated, taking a stance. Unohana couldn't help but sigh.

Whatever. She'd beat it out of her.

Spoiler: Taylor's Bankai

Point of View: Multiversal Emulator

'And… you're totally sure you don't want me to jump in here? Two on one? I am technically your power, so-' You begin pointedly.

'Absolutely not. I want to do this again for my birthday. Or christmas. Or both. I love it here!' Taylor cheers in your head like the little psycho she is.

'I'm stepping in if things get bad.' You insist stubbornly.

'Well duh, I'm not suicidal.' She fires back at you, the sheer joy radiating up her link to you throwing you off a little bit.

Sometimes… sometimes you forget that your Master is someone who's primary hobby is fighting, in a world where no one can actually fight her. It's tragic, really.

"So? Want me to give you the first move, or-" Taylor begins confidently, only to cut herself off as she is forced to scramble backwards by the other woman's sinister looking smile and sudden swiping slash at her neck.

"You are very confident." The woman said placidly, before taking an orthodox stance with her sword.

"I get that alot." Taylor drawls, before sprinting forward, ducking the overhand strike that would have come down on her shoulder and damaged her arm, and twisting just enough that she can put the full strength of her movement into a punch aimed at her foe's kidney.

Perhaps unwilling to oblige, the older woman merely continues to smile as her knee rises in a swift attack that catches your Master on the chin and knocks one of her teeth loose as her jaw slams shut and her attack fails.

"So, very, confident." The woman sighs, resetting her stance.

"...Okay, so she can fight without magic." Taylor mutters. The enemy tilts her head to the side like a dog as she hears the words, and her brows furrow in annoyance.

"I have a great many questions for you. But before that." She says, before rushing forward herself, and catching your Master off-guard with a series of blistering fast strikes that you feel should be just slightly beyond what a human should be able to accomplish without supernatural assistance.

Then again, you have no idea how old this woman actually is. Kenpachi was hundreds of years old himself, and if what this woman said about being 'Kenpachi' before him is true…

'And you're sure you don't want help?' You ask again.

'Do you want me to be honest?' Taylor gasps desperately at you as she barely avoids having her hand lopped off.

'Yes?' You say with some exasperation.

'I think I need you to distract her so we can run away.' She bites out with equal parts annoyance and happiness.

'On it.' You reply, before appearing between your Master and the next strike that was going to hit her.

"Yeah, not so big when I've got a sword t-" You begin, only to wince with pain as you lose the finger you point at the woman.

Right. No powers. No healing. No super speed. You're just a dude with a too large sword right now.

Uh oh.

"You're in my way." The woman says blandly, sizing you up as you grimace and try to ignore the rapid blood loss from your missing digit. Behind you, you can feel your Master rapidly distancing herself from the fighting, and the giant spider perpetuating this damn 'no powers' effect shifting overhead so as to bring the edge of the barrier closer to her.

"Yeah, I get that alot. Hey, you seem like a fine young lady yourself, why don't we talk this out over a-hey!" You bark, leaning out of the way of an attack you are pretty sure was intended to cut your tongue off mid sentence.

"Do you- come on!" You complain as you are forced to dodge an increasingly complex pattern of attack instead of banter - which you would drastically prefer at the moment. Pain is so much worse when it doesn't go away after a few seconds.

"Okay! Sword Fighting is canceled! I cast gun!" You yell angrily as you withdraw your firearms from under your coat - just in time for your foe's blade to straight through your ribcage, then emerge from your back.

"O-okay. I still-" You cough a gout of blood on your foes bored looking face, then wiggle the gun you have pressed against her chin.

"Win." You gasp.

'I'm out. Let's go.' Taylor sends to you, and you smile and move your gun away to wave jauntily at the psycho in front of you.

"Call me!" You yell after her as you are abruptly moved several dozen yards away by your Master resummoning you. Your sudden presence outside the barrier of her Bankai instantly relieves the pain you are feeling as your healing factor kicks back in, and you breathe a sigh of relief as the titanic iron spider vanishes from sight, and your Master's sword reappears in her hand.

"We should go before-" You state, standing next to the Gap back home.

You were going to say 'before that woman does the teleporting thing again' since her powers would have come back the second Taylor's Bankai ended - but she happily proved that point for you by appearing three feet away before you had even finished speaking.

"God, I want to learn that!" Taylor exclaims as you whirl around and kick her through the portal.

"And lady, you seriously need to-" You begin to berate the lunatic, only to let loose a gurgling sigh as she rips your throat open with her sword and…

...Chases your Master through the Gap?

Ah… shit. That's… probably bad, right?

Tomorrow is Sunday, Choose Three (3)

[ ] Begin New Training (Choose a Skill or Power)

[ ] Have Taylor take some time out to fortify the Heap with Onmyoudo.

[ ] So… you have a trapped Soul Reaper in your nightmare dimension somewhere. Oh, and also that guy your Master sent to the fun zone earlier. That's… probably worth dealing with. Eventually.

[ ] Show Vicky your plans for a Parahuman sport. (This ends the voting for the sports ball planning, though I'll eventually close it myself)

[ ] You started the work but… the ferry could finish its transformation into a school with only a little more.

[ ] Planeswalk (Choose a setting: Bleach, Kung Fu Panda, Touhou, RWBY, Nasuverse, Full Metal Alchemist)

[ ] You know a guy who can clone stuff! Mem needs one of Taylors eyeballs! Serendipity!

[ ] Write In

[ ] Take Time Off (Pick an Extra Social, on the weekends, this can be a second group)

Choose a Social Link (these are daily now). On weekends, you can choose an entire group to socialize with - but are not forced to.

[ ] Taylor's parents:

Outstanding group tasks: None

[ ] Danny (3)

[ ] Jess (2)

[ ] Mouse Protector (2)

[ ] The Oathbound:

Outstanding group tasks: See how Trainwreck's date went, See how planning is going for Parian's fashion show.

[ ] Trainwreck (2)

[ ] Aspirant (2)

[ ] Parian (2)

[ ] Oliver (2)

[ ] Miss Kim (0)

[ ]The Bratpack (As a group, includes Mem and Mun):

Outstanding group tasks: Train the Brats (Ongoing).

[ ] Aisha (2)

[ ] Dinah (4)

[ ] Taylor's kids:

Outstanding group tasks: Unleash your kids on that fuck Jacques. Yew wants to go to college.

[ ] Mem (4)

[ ] Mun (2)

[ ] Simone (1)

[ ] Yew (1)

[ ] Gram (1)

[ ] Taylor's friends:

Outstanding group tasks: None

[ ] Victoria (3)

[ ] Amy (4)

[ ] Clockblocker (4)

A/N: HEY! I HATED THIS! IT TOOK ALL DAY TO WRITE! I WANNA DIE! I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT! As a side note, the 'you melt in unfamilliar dimensions' rules do not apply to settings with fully purchased bleed tracks (not including the reroll on an old setting). If you're curious why Taylor speaks archaic Japanese - it's because Yukari is a bitch. She got the language as a side bonus to all the ritualism of Onmyoudo, which is itself an ancient tradition, and the knowledge transfer for the language was deliberately left at 'Yee Old Japanese' because Yukari thought it would be funny. I only bother to show that as the case for outside points of view.

Last edited: Nov 10, 2022

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Bowler Hat Guy

Nov 10, 2022

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Threadmarks Hostile Takeover 18.13

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Nov 21, 2022

#50,269

[X] Begin New Training (Private Investigator)

[X] Show Vicky your plans for a Parahuman sport. (This ends the voting for the sports ball planning, though I'll eventually close it myself)

[X] So… you have a trapped Soul Reaper in your nightmare dimension somewhere. Oh, and also that guy your Master sent to the fun zone earlier. That's… probably worth dealing with. Eventually.

[X] The Oathbound

Current Energy: 2

Current Training: Private Investigator (0/10) - (6/10)

Current Emulation Status: Here

Sunday, March 27th , 2011

Hebert Household, Brockton Bay

You wake up to the sensation of a sword descending into the pillow you are sleeping on - about an inch away from your nose.

"Good morning, Master." You say cheerfully without actually bothering to open your eyes.

"Where's my hat?" Is your Master's blunt response.

"I hid it." You admit freely.

"I owned sixteen of them. I had them specially made. For money. So that I would always have a hat. I can't find even a single one." She says pointedly.

"Yeah, like I said, I hid them." You repeat with a yawn. While your Master was recovering from her sound trouncing yesterday - she basically stumbled into the kitchen the second her regeneration turned back on and inhaled a small country's worth of food before promptly blacking out - you had… well.

"No, you said 'it'. That implies singular." She says grouchily. You hear the raspy sound of a sword sliding out of the pillow in front of you, and then feel a new sensation as someone grabs your ankle.

You're sure she is assuming you are just screwing with her - but that's just not the case! You've decided to train her in one of your lesser used skillsets.

Lesser used because no matter how much you try, you never actually get any cases that involve detective work. You would actually kill to be able to start out on an adventure that begins with a dangerous but hot as hell woman giving you an ambiguous-sounding job. You mean, there was that one time Trish did that, but Trish was like… a clone of Dante's mom or something, which made it less sexy and more just angsty. Lame.

"I had a really good day yesterday, so I'm feeling nice today, Emmy." Taylor says in a conversational tone, tightening her grip on your ankle.

"Where are my hats?" She asks as politely as any school child in class. You would almost describe her tone as gentle and loving if it wasn't also full of murderous intent.

Cute kid.

"Relax, they're just a couple of hats. I've got a whole thing planned out, you'll like it - it's training." You say lazily, opening one eye to see your Master standing next to your bed in her full costume right from the get go today.

You suppose you do have a lot to get done today. Sort of a 'working holiday' kind of deal. Although you suppose she may just really want to go back to finally fight Kenpachi.

"What… kind of training? Do you have something that will let me beat that lady from yesterday? Kenpachi's mom or whatever?" She asks, the murderous intent briefly leaving her voice as her face brightens and her eyes shine with the same kind of fondness puppies show their owners.

"Well, as you may know, I was a Private Investigator back home, so-" You begin, getting ready to explain the treasure hunt-esque scenario you have set up for her to find her things.

"So… nothing to do with fighting?" She interrupts you, her turn becoming frigid and her expression flattening back into a dull eyed stare.

"N-" You begin, only for her to yank on your ankle so hard you jerk bodily out of the bed.

Then she starts spinning with your ankle in hand.

"Give me back my hats! Give them back!" She yells at you irately, spinning you around the center of the expansive bedroom until she gets dizzy and lets go of your ankle.

Naturally, because your Master isn't an idiot, and thus, has to know that you won't get much more than slightly dizzy from this, you hurtle towards the already open bedroom window, fly outside, and land face first in the middle of the front yard, bouncing twice along the way, and rolling to a stop on the sidewalk.

"...Probably gonna rain today, huh." You note, staring up at the sky overhead.

"Come on, let's get to the Heap so I can ask Simone where you stashed my stuff, before we need to visit the PRT today." Taylor grumbles at you a few minutes later as she emerges from the front door like a normal person.

"What makes you think she isn't in on it?" You counter, dusting yourself off as you stand up and ignoring the curious stares the pair of you are getting from the windows of the handful of neighbors awake at this hour.

"She has a self-preservation instinct." Taylor replies primly.

"You wouldn't hurt her and she knows it." You point out.

"I can ground her, though." She says triumphantly.

You open your mouth to counter this point, then close it. Then open it again.

"...Touché." you concede with a frown.

Not that you're worried. You never told her where you were putting them in the first place. Wasn't it tradition for at least half the witnesses to give you the wrong information in the first place? That's what all the movies you watched said.

Taylor - seemingly happy with her verbal victory, snorts at you and cleaves open a Gap, presumably to the Heap.

You say presumably, because you never get to use it. The second the thing opens, a lightly tanned hand reaches out of it and stabs a dagger into your Master's shoulder - between her neck and shoulder in particular.

It's all your Master can do to kick the murderous woman who chased you home yesterday back into the Gap, then to close it after her, leaving the two of you standing in a small pool of Taylor's blood as she grits her teeth and yanks the dagger free of her shoulder.

"...What the hell was that?" She demands somewhat fearfully, for the first time in what is probably a good long time.

"...Well, you know that woman who nearly killed us yesterday?" You say slowly, staring at the spot where the Gap had previously been.

"...Yes?"

"...I think she might have followed us home." You admit freely. Your Master turns to stare at you with wide eyes that quickly narrow in thought as she considers that statement.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me that?" She asks in confusion.

You shrug.

"I thought you knew."

Sunday, March 27th , 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

"You thought I knew?!" Taylor complains at you for the umpteenth time as she angrily gets out of her father's car nearly an hour later - you'd ended up waiting for him to wake up so you could catch a ride with him to the Heap. You could have flown or jumped across the city in a fraction of the time, but it was nice to see Danny and co. every once in a while anyway.

"It's full of eyes! I thought you could see through them!" You complain.

"Well, I can't!" She returns, slamming the door behind her so hard the car rocks up onto just two wheels before landing on the pavement with a loud thump. Taylor winces at that, then peers apologetically at her father as he emerges from the other side of the truck, his glasses skewed to the side.

"Honey, do you think maybe you might need anger management training? Is that a thing? Does it count as training or therapy?" Danny opines tiredly, fumbling a thermos full of horrible-smelling coffee open while holding a briefcase awkwardly under one arm.

"Therapy." Jess supplies for him, snatching the thermos from his hands and flicking it open for him, before handing it back and fixing his glasses back into place.

"I don't need therapy!" Taylor sends back, shocked that her father would even suggest she might. He looks at her, then looks at his car - one of the windows has cracked due to her outburst - and then back to her again, taking a long draw on his coffee.

He doesn't actually say anything, though.

"Everybody needs therapy, small menace. Most people just can't afford it. Time and money and all. Too busy getting that cheddar~" Katherine says, stretching her arms out behind her and cracking her neck by twisting it sharply left and then right.

"Small menace?" Taylor asks in confusion.

"That's the part that bothers you?" Katherine responds, equally confused.

"...Nevermind. Ah, wait, does anyone know where this idiot put my hats?" Taylor asks suddenly, seemingly having briefly forgotten her grievances with you in the face of her much larger issue.

Danny, Jess, and Katherine all look at eachother, then begin to withdraw cue cards from their clothing.

"Mine says-" Danny begins, only for Taylor to yank it out of his hands along with Jess and Katherine's.

"It was a dark and stormy night?" She demands from you grouchily.

"Yeah, it's a clue thing." You say proudly.

"That's all it says. No, you know what, this is stupid, I'm just going to use magic." She growls at you.

"Ah, ah, ah. That wouldn't be training, now would it?" You point out, using the magic words.

"...You-" She starts to open a Gap to dump the cards inside for later, only to close it as another dagger's tip starts to emerge from the nascent portal.

"Aaaagh!" She yells incoherently, crossing her arms grouchily in front of herself and glaring at you.

"We should… do something about that, right?" You ask pointedly.

"I'm working on it. Let's go find Wreck." Taylor responds grouchily to you, and you proceed to follow her around the building to the garage entrance.

"Wreck! Wreck, I need to beat someone up! Hey!" She calls into the garage in a whiny teenager-like tone as you enter.

"Is it a 'you can't do it yourself cus you'll paste em' thing, or a 'Avengers Assemble' kind of thing!?" You hear the man - awake and alert uncharacteristically early for him - call from further into the garage. The pair of you travel further into the scrap maze until you locate your team's Tinker - presently readjusting a solid steel bowtie on his black-coloured armor's neck.

You're honestly impressed, the power armor he's currently wearing genuinely looks like clothing - if you squint, it's almost hard to tell he's wearing armor, as opposed to just an extremely large pinstripe suit.

That isn't what shocks your Master into not answering his question, though.

The gynoid next to him is.

"Lose the tie, dickhead. It's the second date, go open chest." The scrap metal approximation of a pinup model berates him in a feminine voice, walking over and yanking the scrap metal tie off his face.

"...'Kay, before I answer your question, did you make a Terminator?" Taylor asks - clearly more curious than concerned. Trainwreck - his face surprisingly clear of acne and his hair surprisingly free of grease, turns to glance at her with a smirk on his face.

"Behold my mastery of metal, oh great Nexus. Nice, right?" He offers by way of a non-answer.

"So yes, then." Taylor intuits.

"No. I'm the dead woman who lives in his backpack and who apparently needs to explain how dating works like I'm his mother." The gynoid counters, reaching up to slap Trainwreck's hands away from his nicely brushed hair.

"...Okay… does the dead woman have a name, or…" Taylor asks cautiously.

"Meh. I do, but - and no offense - your whole bit is kind of exhausting, and I've already got one unnaturally dangerous idiot to babysit. Don't expect to see me often - I'm good. Being dead, that is." She says dismissively.

You and Taylor blink and stare blankly at the mechanical apparition while Trainwreck guffaws at the pair of you.

"Don't worry about Challenger. She's alright." He says lazily, although he shoots a scowl at her when she smirks at him and slaps him lightly on his mechanical ass.

"See? Is that so hard?" She says playfully.

"Nevermind. She's a bitch. Exorcise her. Please." Trainwreck states without emotion.

"Uh… alright… so your first date went… okay?" Taylor asks hesitantly, tearing her eyes away from the enigmatic machine woman who seems to be doing her absolute best not to have to interact with either of you as she bustles about grabbing loose objects to buff scratches and nicks out of Trainwreck's armor.

"Yeah, actually! You'd think we'd have nothin' in common but turns out we were really able to bond over the crushing weight of responsibility for our respective ultra-powerful idiots." Trainwreck says blithely, not even seeming to make note of the fact that he just insulted your Master.

"...Huh?" Taylor asks blankly.

"Well, you know, Eidolon apparently tends to hare off to do stupid shit all the time, and she had some pretty good advice for dealing with that kinda shit. Mostly we just talked about how hard it is to have a life when your job is your life." Trainwreck says wistfully.

"Do… you need time off? I mean, I always figured if you didn't want to do something, you… wouldn't…" Taylor asks somewhat fearfully, clearly somewhat ashamed that she hadn't thought to ask sooner.

"Nah, it's a labor of love. Me and Becky, we do the shit we do 'cus we wanna be doing it. Don't mean it ain't work. Don't worry, boss, I'm not complaining about having the reins of a multimillion dollar superhero team. It ain't a tragedy or nothing. Now, if I had a working dick-" He grumbles only to get cut off as Challenger dope slaps him in the back of the head, followed by immediately fixing his hair back into place.

"Hey!" Trainwreck complains at her, getting into a light slap fight with her that demonstrates that - if nothing else - his Tinker power has fully assimilated the process your Master helped him with that allowed him to use portals to reinforce his armor with tectonic plates.

Some of those slaps definitely would have obliterated that gynoid if he hadn't.

"...Becky?" Taylor mumbles under her breath, obviously trying to reconcile the hardass woman who tried to kill Trainwreck at one point, with someone happily dating the big lug. Trainwreck visibly has to choke back a laugh at that, one that escapes anyway as he starts cackling uproariously at your Master.

"Oh, man! This is great! Is this why you do this? Just bust out random unknowable eldritch knowledge for shits and gigs? I love this! Your face! Hahahaha!" He cackles, bending over and slapping his knee.

"Tch. You got him going now. Call me when he realizes he just scuffed his suit." Challenger grunts, before her gynoid body goes completely inert - as though its animating force has simply vanished.

"It's not that funny. I just didn't think you'd get along with her, is all. You're too good for her." Taylor grumbles petulantly.

"Not your call, twerp. I'm a grown ass man, I'll date who I want. So, whose ass do you need beat? I can debut my new suit, give the action figure bootleggers something to do." Trainwreck says eventually, winding down from his lengthy laughing session.

"Oh. Actually I think we're probably gonna need everyone for this. She, uh… she nearly killed me, so-" Taylor begins, then pauses when Trainwreck goes utterly still.

"...Say again?" He says in surprise.

"Yeah, it was crazy fun, but uh, she's kind of haunting my portals, so…" Taylor says slowly, clearly confused by Trainwreck's behavior.

It makes total sense to you. If someone told you that anyone besides you or that brat Nero beat Vergil in a fight, you'd probably freak the hell out too. You suppose it's not that different from this world's locals being told someone beat Scion up for his lunch money.

You're pretty sure that's literally impossible.

"Yeah, that's… I thought that's what you said… Hang on." Trainwreck says, nodding stiffly at her before marching behind a pile of scrap and out of sight. There is the sound of machinery clicking and grinding against itself, and then he emerges once more, wearing an entirely different suit of armor - one that you aren't sure you've ever even seen before. It's black, like the armor that emulated a suit and tie… but that is where the similarities end. Bronze coloured runic script rings every available surface, reflecting the light in a way that makes the suit seem as though it is covered in writhing worms. The forearms of the suit are notably thicker than normal, and as you observe Trainwreck settling in, he lifts one and manipulates something inside the suit that causes a giant gunmetal gray barrel to extend from the forearm before quickly retracting. He repeats this process a few times, and each time a different weapon that absolutely should not be able to fit in that space emerges. Chainsaw, minigun, cannon barrel, buzzsaw, railgun, buzzsaw-launching railgun - you don't even have words to describe every option Trainwreck cycles through.

Then he does the same thing with over a dozen other apertures that open up all over his suit, over the course of ten minutes.

At some point, Aspirant arrives in the room, having obviously been called by Trainwreck, and he takes one look at Trainwreck and shifts to his most heavily armored form.

"Are we-?" He begins to ask.

"Yuuup." Trainwreck replies matter of factly.

"Um… guys?" Taylor asks curiously, but at that moment Oliver and Sabah arrive, both in full costume.

"Ah… I suppose it had to happen eventually." Parian says tiredly, turning and immediately jogging back to her atelier, only to return with seven life-sized stuffed dolls.

One for each of your emulations.

"Hey uh, I really don't think-" Taylor tries again.

"I'm gonna need the big one, buddy." Oliver calls as he begins to strap on more armor than is strictly normal from him that he'd quickly begun to pick out of a pile not too far away. Trainwreck quickly throws him a rifle that you would describe as 'very large', except that would probably fail to do it justice.

This gun looks like the Wicked Witch took a profound interest in the second amendment, and then decided to replace her broom with a weapon so big she could ride on top of it, and so powerful no magic was needed to fly on it.

Just recoil.

"Holy shit, holy shit, I came as soon as I heard!" Kim Park yelps loudly as she stumbles through the piles of junk, dragging a dark-skinned woman in matching workout clothes behind her.

"What- okay, someone explain to me what's going on right the hell now!" Taylor demands grouchily when she gets fed up with being ignored.

"Do you not-" Aspirant says blankly, before turning to Trainwreck with a questioning look. "I thought-" He tries again.

"Yeah, yeah. Alright. Whole gang's here. Boss, tell 'em what you told me." Trainwreck requests quickly.

"...So there was this woman who nearly killed me-" She begins.

"Was it a fair fight or did she ambush you?" Aspirant asks quickly.

"Was she alone? Any mind stuff to worry about? I hate the Master stuff." Parian adds.

"Any minions? I'd prefer to handle minions." Oliver adds.

"...We fought one-on-one, fair and square." Taylor says through grit teeth.

"See?" Trainwreck says with a shrug.

"Damn. Alright. Where are we going?" Oliver asks.

"Dunno. Hey chief, where are we doing this?" Trainwreck asks, turning to your Master with a serious look on his face.

"I figured we'd just use one of the big basements? If one of you doesn't explain this to me right now, I'm gonna start juggling you or something!" Taylor threatens.

"Jug-" Oliver begins to ask.

"You want to fight God in the basement?" Trainwreck asks incredulously.

"What?" Taylor says.

"What?" Trainwreck responds in equal confusion, gesturing around at the lot of you.

"Boss, come on. I can read a history book. Ain't nothing stick for long in this shithole world. Anytime something good happens, something fucked up happens to ruin it. We might as well be standing in the tower of Babel right now. Parahuman power levels are on the rise, people have been picking up weird secondary powers, Becky told me there's an army of talking horses or some shit invading mainland China. No way you were gonna be king shit forever. So, you know, we prepared. I ain't letting this go." He explains as though he has incredibly mixed feelings on everything he just said.

"I mean… I probably could have beaten her if Emmy helped…" Taylor mumbles, obviously somewhat embarrassed by the excessive response to her request.

Almost as though a magical spell has broken, those words cause the steadily mounting grim tension in the room to vanish, and Oliver lets out a sigh of relief.

"Oh man, thank fucking God. Oh man, oh man." He says with a sigh.

"Well, if we aren't needed…" The dark-skinned woman - God, you feel like you should know her name - says carefully, tugging on Kim's shoulder in an attempt to get her to move that… clearly doesn't work.

"Hey hang on, while you're here. Boss, you think you can do the soul armor thing for them? I made 'em official the other day but we've been mostly just hanging out recently, so I forgot to mention it."

"I never agreed to-" The dark-skinned woman tries again.

"Eeeeh? That's that Aura thing, right?! The super Kung-Fu power-up thing?!" Kim squeals before skipping over to stand expectantly in front of your Master.

"Y-Yeah. Sorry, I guess I should have asked sooner, but, um… do you have cape names, or costumes, or…?" Taylor asks, before stretching a hand out to place her thumb on the excitable dojo woman's forehead.

"I wanted to go with Shifu, but then someone told me that'd be weird because I'm not even Japanese, so honestly I have no idea!" Kim says with a pleased smile as a blood-red Aura expands from her, then retracts back under her skin.

"Feels like sticking my finger in a light socket." She says with a shiver.

"Why do you know what that feels like?" The dark-skinned woman demands immediately, practically manifesting protectively on top of the Korean woman.

"You never tried it before?" Kim responds innocently.

"Sorry, I don't think we've met? Or… no, I gave you advice one time. Sorry, I didn't know you had powers." Taylor asks hesitantly, reaching up to repeat the process of awakening the new woman's Aura.

You'd usually expect her to be more cautious about this, but presumably Trainwreck's seal of approval is enough for your Master.

"That's…" The woman sighs, then looks over her shoulder at Kim, and then back at your Master with a sigh. "...Fine. It's fine. I haven't chosen a name yet. I wanted to pick Ligeia, but my partner insists we match, so… Willow I guess."

"Oh. Huh. You're cute together." Taylor says absently as a dark, muted-looking, navy blue Aura flows over Willow.

"Thank you!" Kim cheers, charging up to hug Willow as your Master finishes. Willow looks momentarily annoyed and then relaxes into the hug with another sigh and a light smile.

Then Kim speaks again.

"So are we still gonna fight God or whatever?" She asks.

"That- I mean, if you're all here and willing to help anyway…" Taylor asks carefully, eyeing Trainwreck who just smirks at her.

"I wanted to test all this shit out anyway." He says with a shrug.

And thus, the lot of you tromp out of the garage, and down into the bowels of the castle.

"She's really fast. Like, 'I think she might be teleporting' levels of fast." Taylor warns the group cautiously as she sets about marking down runes and symbols on the ground centered on the area she intends to open a Gap in.

"So are you though?" Parian asks worriedly.

"No, I couldn't even see her moving. I had to use my Bankai-" She begins only to be interrupted by Oliver.

"Um, what's… what's a Bankai?" He asks worriedly. Taylor pauses at that, then leans back to think for a moment before responding.

"Ah shit, you got her thinking about it. Now we're gonna have to listen to a whole lecture on metaphysical bullshit before we die." Trainwreck complains. Taylor's look of thoughtful consideration sours as she shoots him a grumpy look.

"It's not that bad. It's–look it's like a super mode, okay? You know how some people think that Endbringers are just unchained Parahumans or something? It's kind of like that. It's my Endbringer mode." She explains.

Everyone else in the room stops moving.

"...Come again?" Oliver asks faintly.

"It-" Taylor begins only to be interrupted - again - but this time by someone unexpected. This time, the interrupter is Nemesis herself.

"You don't even use it right! You're stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" She says. You can't help but stare at her. Not because she's there - that's perfectly normal.

But because she looks like a grown woman. She looks the way she does inside Taylor's inner world.

She looks like an older version of Taylor, if Taylor had ridiculously long pink hair and no sense of shame whatsoever.

Spoiler

More to save his life than because you fear him ogling her, you appear behind Oliver and cover his eyes with your hand.

"Why just me?!" He complains.

"Parian and Trainwreck are adults who don't care. Aspirant, Kim, and Willow know better." You state easily.

"Why. Are. You. Like. This?" Taylor asks through grit teeth, obviously flexing her hand as though to grasp her sword, but equally obviously, unable to do so while said sword is standing in front of her.

"Obviously because you stole your Bankai from me, so I had to get something in return. Bleeh!" Nemesis says unabashedly, sticking her tongue out at Taylor.

"I have several questions!" Kim calls politely.

"Minions should stay out of it!" Nemesis snaps back at her.

"Hey! You don't get to call people 'minions'!" Taylor barks at her. The pair move closer to each other as they argue, until they are practically headbutting while hissing at each other.

"Hah? This is why you don't use me properly! Do you even know what your Bankai looks like? Huh?!" Nemesis demands pointedly, lifting a finger to angrily jab it into Taylor's chest for emphasis.

"It's a big stupid spider that negates powers!" Taylor insists with a frown.

"Underneath it! I negate powers beneath me! Everything is beneath me! I'm important! Just me! The spider has a seat on top of it, you idiot! You aren't supposed to stand under it with our victims!" Nemesis screeches furiously at her owner, who jerks back as though struck.

"But… why?" Taylor asks in seemingly genuine confusion.

"Are you asking me why the world's most powerful Trump, whose entire fighting style is based on having a billion powers, shouldn't stand in their own power negation field?!" Nemesis continues to screech.

"But that's boring! I just… stand on top of the giant spider and let it kill my helpless enemies? That's… That's so boring!" Taylor repeats angrily.

"Winning is fun!" Nemesis insists.

"Fighting is funner!" Taylor fires back.

"Does anyone else feel like we're watching a domestic dispute, or...?" Trainwreck mutters to the rest of you, the group having gathered to watch the ongoing drama.

""Shut up Trainwreck!"" The two Taylors bark at him at once.

"First off," Trainwreck says, obviously bored of watching as he trundles forward to pick Nemesis up by wrapping his giant metal hand around her waist and holding her up in the air like a badly behaving puppy. "I don't have to put up with that, not from either of you." He points out, stretching his other hand out to do the same to Taylor when she shoots a smug look at her sword spirit.

"Clear?" He says pointedly to both of them.

"Sorry…" "...Fine…" Taylor and Nemesis say slowly, both turning to look away from the Tinker.

"Cool. You gonna do that power fuckery shit here or is that spider thing you talked about too big?" He asks, eyeing the room around you.

"I could shrink it enough to fit in here, but I can't turn the power field off. It's not great for group battles." Taylor admits after a moment of thought.

"Hah! Says you! Just because you can use it doesn't mean you've mastered it! Stupid!" Nemesis laughs at her.

Taylor - not bothering to return to the previous argument - just sighs at the insult.

"Fine. I'm stupid. I'll work on it later. Can I have my sword back?" She says tiredly.

"Promise!" Nemesis demands.

"Promise what?" Taylor responds.

It should be noted that the pair of them are still dangling in the air in front of Trainwreck - which makes this conversation particularly comical looking despite its serious tone.

"Promise that you'll do it right next time!" Nemesis demands.

"I don't-" Taylor starts petulantly.

"Promise or I'm not helping!" Nemesis insists.

"Fine! God!" Taylor concedes eventually. Nemesis nods once, and then, instead of vanishing immediately adds;

"And I want days off! I wanna eat ice cream and hang out with my nieces and stuff!"

"What? No! You're my sword! I need my sword!" Taylor complains.

"You go to school! You don't need a sword at school because school is stupid and doesn't have any stabbing! You have a daughter that is also a sword and she gets days off!" Nemesis counters.

"...You have to wear real clothes!" Taylor returns.

"Deal!" Nemesis barks, before finally vanishing.

"...Are we good now?" Trainwreck asks worriedly, his expression breaking down from the stern warning he'd previously given to one of genuine concern for your Master.

"Yeah. Sorry. She likes you as much as I do, but she's uh… she's my bitchy half, I guess." Taylor admits grouchily.

"I could tell." Trainwreck says easily, putting Taylor down.

"...Y-You could?" Taylor asks in confusion.

"Yeah, you told me she was quick on the draw with the murder, but she didn't even try to attack me when I picked her up. When I imagine a 'you' who doesn't give a shit, I don't imagine surviving that." He admits.

"...But you did it anyway?" Taylor asks incredulously.

"Eh. I'm not trying to die but I assume I've got a backup life laying around as long as you're here." He says.

"Wreck!" Taylor barks angrily at him.

"Don't worry about it, brat. Let's get this over with." Trainwreck says with a shrug.

"Right…" Taylor allows, watching with a conflicted expression on her face as the large man lumbers back into his position at the edge of the circle of runes, designed both to contain your foe and - on the off chance dialogue is possible - translate for her. You can feel both gratitude and shame washing off of her as she observes her teammates, the people who've been with her for so long now, who would almost certainly throw down their lives for her without even needing an explanation.

Who, today, proved they would do so even without fully knowing the situation.

Then you sense the resolve within her, the resolve to do better.

'Hey… Sabah has that fashion show thing going on this week, right? Was it Thursday or Friday?' She asks you silently.

'Thursday. Gonna ask your Dad to let you skip school?' You asks knowingly.

'...Maybe.' She replies evasively. You roll your eyes at her. When the hell did your Master become such a tsundere anyway?

"Right. Okay! Let's… Let's do this." She calls out to her team who tense up at her voice.

"Everyone knows the plan?" She asks pointedly.

"Runes will keep you both in, but they're keyed to the super sauce you and your magic sword use for stuff, so we can go in and come out at will. Apply violence liberally but don't cross the circle." Oliver calls back.

"Yuuup." Taylor says, before succinctly turning and cleaving a Gap open in the center of the large circle. She jumps back from it the second she opens it, which is good because as with every other time she's tried to open a Gap with that woman in there, a dagger-wielding hand emerges from the hole the second there is enough space for it to fit through. When it doesn't immediately make contact with anything and the Gap continues to open… it pauses.

Then retracts.

You all wait patiently as the Gap widens enough for a person to pass through, and then you keep waiting when nothing immediately emerges from the Gap.

You thought anyway.

Between one blink and the next, your Master finds herself abruptly standing an inch away from the terrifying woman who had previously nearly killed both of you, with a dagger pressed firmly against her throat.

"...Where is this?" She asks pointedly, glancing around and ignoring the majority of your team as though they aren't there. You suppose it makes sense - as functionally a ghost you are sure she can tell who should be able to see her.

Unfortunately for her, your Master long ago made the team accessories for seeing - and punching - ghosts.

"Damn. She is fast." Parian notes aloud. The woman's head snaps towards her with a frown then back to your Master.

"Well?" She demands again.

"...The basement of my castle. On Earth. But a different Earth than the one you're probably familiar with. I tried to explain before but you didn't listen and I enjoyed fighting you anyway, so…" Taylor trails off nervously.

"A… different… Earth." The woman says blandly, before appearing on the exact opposite side of the circle.

"So… Do we start shooting now or what?" Trainwreck asks.

"Uh… give it a second." Taylor calls back over her shoulder at him, seemingly just as confused as he is.

You… had sort of expected this to be a fight to the death kind of scenario. You weren't that worried about Taylor getting her throat ripped out just now because, frankly, she could now comfortably survive it happening.

But still.

You all watch with interest as the woman lifts a hand holding what looks like a glowing black butterfly, and then releases it with furrowed brows.

The butterfly - you have no idea what purpose it's supposed to serve but you gather that it isn't currently doing it right - promptly flutters out of the circle, then into the wall of the Heap. Like a confused bee hitting a window, it proceeds to continue headbutting the wall as though expecting to pass through it.

"...What have you done to the Soul Society?" The woman demands after a moment, appearing once more in front of your Master.

"Lady, either kill me or don't, but if we're gonna talk then act like a normal freaking person." Taylor grumbles at her, reaching a hand up to push the dagger away from her throat with some annoyance.

You can't tell if the annoyance is because she can't track the woman's movements, or because she isn't going to get to fight anyone today.

"...Very well. I am Retsu Unohana, Captain of the fourth squad. Explain 'a different Earth'." She requests sourly.

"...Sure…" Taylor trails off in annoyance, then opens her mouth again with a brash look on her face.

"But you have to teach me that teleport thing you keep doing!" She demands instantly.

"You aren't in a position to make demands of me." Unohana replies instantly.

"We're in an alternate reality, and you're trapped in a magic circle. Even if you kill me, you'll just be trapped in my basement until the end of time, and you'll never be able to go back to your own reality." Taylor points out smugly.

Unohana frowns at her.

"Entirely too much forethought for a Kenpachi." She grumbles.

"I'm not Kenpachi. I'm his student." Taylor replies evenly.

The two stare at each other for a moment. Then Unohana sighs.

"I will consider it. Now. Explain - please." She finally says.

"Does this mean we aren't fighting?" Oliver calls from outside the circle.

"We'll see." Unohana responds in place of your Master, sending a chill down your spine.

"Explain it to me like I've never encountered Nexus before." Piggot demands from you as you meet her at the entrance of the building.

"...Well, there's this cape from Brockton Bay who-" You begin as the Director's guard detail spreads out around you, lightly pushing or requesting the civilians in the mall get out of your way as you lead her from the public entrance to the tunnels your family and friends mostly use to get around the building.

"I hope against all hope, that the next person you turn into understands how much I hate who you are right now. Skip this part. Just explain." Piggot says sourly to you.

In the end, Unohana had grasped the overall situation well enough, but had wanted slightly more details on the situation on your world than Taylor could easily provide. Since Piggot had wanted to meet your Master anyway, well…

It seemed only proper to phone her and explain the situation.

Which lead to now, as you lead the diminutive blond leader of the local PRT down into the bowels of the castle.

"Well, Taylor and I went to another dimension-" You begin.

"Very illegal. Continue." Piggot comments blandly. You shoot her an annoyed look. You already explained this to her the last time you made contact with another dimension so it shouldn't surprise her.

"...Well, it turns out they've got a few people over there who are fully capable of killing us so we ran away." You continue.

"How many?" Piggot demands, her gaze sharpening.

"...A few. Probably." You concede.

"Do you have an exact number?" She presses.

"...At least thirteen, probably more?" You offer, giving your best guess as you travel downward through the tunnels.

"Lovely. So? Why am I here?" She grumbles at you.

"Well, uhh… One of them followed us home?" You say with a shrug.

Emily Piggot, Director of the Protectorate ENE, stops in her tracks.

"Please tell me you are playing a prank on me. But not one of your pranks, like the time you forced me to confront a long-held fear in order to receive life-saving medical care. A normal prank that doesn't have real consequences. The kind normal people pull. Your Master likes that kind of thing, right? Pretending to be normal?" She says with her tone halfway between exhausted and resigned.

"...No, uh, we just fucked up." You say somewhat apologetically.

Piggot sighs.

"Fine. So? I assume you have it contained?" She asks as you lead her into the room your team is currently sitting in. At some point most of Taylor's kids had shown up to take a look too, which has resulted in nearly a dozen people milling about outside the circle that Retsu Unohana is presently sitting in.

Well. Standing in the center of.

Ominously.

"...Mostly." You say as the woman moves from the center of the circle to the edge nearest to you faster than it's possible to respond.

Unohana insists this is high speed movement, but you call bullshit. That is teleporting.

"Director. I am given to understand you have a ghost problem." Unohana easily says.

"...Just a moment, miss…?" Piggot says politely, immediately shifting to her political mode.

"Retsu Unohana." She says in a faintly pleased sounding tone.

"Last name address." You offer.

"Yes, I am aware of Japanese social conventions. They make up a significant portion of the population. Now shut up and let the adults talk." Piggot says, not bothering to look at you as she speaks.

The two admittedly formidable - in very different ways - women stare at each other for a moment before Unohana breaks the silence.

"She is quite the handful." Unohana notes, turning to watch your Master as she attempts to manage even a single 'Flash Step' based on vague descriptions of how it works.

Mostly, she just bounces off the far wall when she ends up applying more muscle then skill to the technique. Over, and over, and over again.

Piggot snorts at the sight.

"You get used to her. To answer your question, yes. We have ghosts now. And no, most of us don't know what to do about them." Piggot allows, her hand tightening on the hastily enchanted pen that is even allowing her to interact with the woman before her.

"Fascinating. And… you didn't have ghosts before this? Where did your souls go when you died?" Unohana asks curiously.

"Nowhere. We just died." Piggot says bluntly, and Unohana blinks at the response and then purses her lips.

"...Have you been experiencing a great deal of new trouble recently?" She asks, turning once more to stare at your Master. You can sense the conversation going somewhere dangerous so you interject.

"The whole planet is pretty much always screwed. Giant monsters running around breaking things all the time." You say in a matter-of-fact tone that earns a snort of agreement from Piggot.

"Well… perhaps we can offer each other some assistance. Some training perhaps?" Unohana says with a glint in her eyes.

"Why?" Piggot shoots back pointedly, which seems to catch the other woman somewhat off guard.

"We both have something the other wants. My people have expertise with several of your current problems, and you have a large number of souls who would not otherwise be going to an afterlife without us." She says easily.

"No. What do you get out of this? That's all strictly beneficial to my end. What does your end get?" Piggot repeats.

"…I'm not at liberty to explain at the moment. I'm not asking for a binding agreement. Merely a tacit acceptance that we can bring back to our superiors. If I am allowed to return and come back, at least, I can provide you with more details then." Unohana states, although she does shoot Taylor an interested and oddly motherly look as she does so.

Piggot, to your surprise, almost looks pleased at this response.

"Ah. Infosec. How I missed it. Very well. I can agree to pass the offer up the chain. But nothing more." Piggot agrees.

"Excellent. As a show of good faith, I should be able to task two of my subordinates to handle your city's ghost problems temporarily?" Unohana states shrewdly.

"I respectfully refuse." Piggot says without preamble. Unohana shrugs.

"I did have to try." She admits.

You feel like the conversation has started to go over your head at this point - which annoys you - so you jump in again.

"Probably wouldn't work anyway. My Master has to maintain a portal for everyone that crosses over or they melt because the physics are all wrong." You point out.

"I do not believe that will be an issue. I have detected no noticeable difference in my condition or the surroundings - even if the surrounding reishi is quite weak - and I most certainly do not have any such thing on my person." Unohana says.

You feel a sinking feeling in your gut as you pause to consider that.

That was… bad, right? Permanent global - perhaps universal - metaphysical terraforming was…. Bad… right?

You aren't sure how but you are starting to suspect that this is definitely your fault somehow. Especially given evidence that the new additions to the local reality always seem to match worlds you've personally poked and prodded.

A bead of cold sweat rolls down your back as you consider the implications, and you resolve to… well. Think about them, at least.

Maybe your shard end can figure out a solution? The Warrior is going to notice what's going on and turn you off eventually…

Actually. Shouldn't that have happened already?

What the hell is going on with this cycle?

"Oh. Right. Before I go drop this steaming pile on the head director's lap." Piggot says, turning towards you while ignoring your pondering look.

"You may recall the mass resurrection Nexus recently made my problem." Piggot says dourly. Unohana stiffens and perks up at this but the Director either doesn't notice, doesn't care, or assumes that the things your Master does are normal for her.

"Uh… yeah…" You say cautiously.

"We have several new Wards. One of them wanted to talk to you. Also, somehow, a great deal of those people have found out exactly who is responsible for their current situation. I'm given to understand that something of a pilgrimage is underway. I've already requested reinforcements." Piggot says grouchily, before summarily turning around to leave without giving you time to get a word in edgewise.

"...What?" You ask her back as she walks away.

"Pilgrimage. New Wards. Lots of Capes." Piggot calls smugly over her shoulder at you.

Is… this what your Master does to other people? Just drop information in their lap that they can only barely comprehend then leaves? This feels horrible. Why does she do this to people?!

'...we may have a problem.' You send to your Master as she bounces off the far wall again.

"We'll need to make places for them to stay. Like... hostels or something." Taylor says, walking back and forth in her room that night while you watch her stress out over the situation from her bed.

"We've got the money for it. Probably. Time is a bigger problem." You point out.

"Yeah, I guess we don't know how many are coming or how long they'll take to get here… I guess they won't all show up at once… most of them shouldn't even have any powers…" Taylor muses aloud.

"Probably gonna need something for them to do, too." You add.

"Sorry?" Taylor asks, turning towards you.

"Even if you give them a place to live for completely free, they'll get into trouble if they aren't doing something with themselves. If they stay long enough they'll need jobs, or at least, something to do during the day." You explain.

You had thought your Master would be put off by this statement. After all, even if she has a great deal of personal power, she doesn't have all that much ability to control large groups of people.

Or at least, that was your assumption.

Until her face settles into a malign-looking smile you are all too familiar with.

"I have to call Vicky." She says with a glint in her eyes.

"...Why?" You ask with some concern.

"The National Football League is an industry that produces billions of dollars a year. It employs players, vendors, merchandise production - the whole deal. And that's just normal people throwing a ball and tackling each other." She says slowly, pushing her glasses up onto her nose and engaging what you are sure is the greatest use of the Crystallized Wisdom she's ever bothered with.

For mundane sports statistics.

"Okay…" You say slowly, as your Masters behavior gets increasingly erratic and she withdraws a familiar notebook from somewhere.

"The same is true for Baseball, Basketball, Soccer - and that's just locally within the states." She continues frantically as she haphazardly starts scribbling plans in her notepad.

It is at this point that your Master's character truly shines through.

She has always had the power to achieve great social change. She's had it ever since you were Yukari Yakumo. However, much like Yukari Yakumo, she is loath to engage in that kind of activity for no reason, and without any personal benefit.

However, if it will protect and maintain her current 'mundane' way of life…

Well. You wouldn't put it past your Master to engineer the rise of the greatest sport known to mankind, and all its accompanying industries simply to avoid being annoyed by something.

Tomorrow is the last day of your Emulation. What do you think would be an appropriate send off?

] Write In

Tomorrow is Monday, Choose One (1)

[ ] Have Taylor take some time out to fortify the Heap with Onmyoudo.

[ ] You started the work but… the ferry could finish its transformation into a school with only a little more. You're going to have a bunch of new capes in town that could benefit from it.

[ ] You know a guy who can clone stuff! Mem needs one of Taylors eyeballs! Serendipity!

[ ] Piggot implied there are several new Wards and that at least one wants to see you…

[ ] Write In

[ ] Take Time Off (Pick an Extra Social, on the weekends, this can be a second group)

Choose a Social Link (these are daily now). On weekends, you can choose an entire group to socialize with - but are not forced to.

Taylor's parents:

Outstanding group tasks: None

[ ] Danny (3)

[ ] Jess (2)

[ ] Mouse Protector (2)

The Oathbound:

Outstanding group tasks: Parian's Fashion Show (Thursday)

[ ] Trainwreck (3)

[ ] Aspirant (3)

[ ] Parian (3)

[ ] Oliver (3)

[ ] Miss Kim (1)

[ ] Willow (1)

The Bratpack (As a group, includes Mem and Mun):

Outstanding group tasks: Train the Brats (Ongoing).

[ ] Aisha (2)

[ ] Dinah (4)

Taylor's kids:

Outstanding group tasks: Unleash your kids on that fuck Jacques. Yew wants to go to college.

[ ] Mem (4)

[ ] Mun (2)

[ ] Simone (1)

[ ] Yew (1)

[ ] Gram (1)

Taylor's friends:

Outstanding group tasks: None

[ ] Victoria (3)

[ ] Amy (4)

[ ] Clockblocker (4)

The winning sport goes to @Phearo who can message me to let me know what free Devil Arm she would like from Dante on his exit from this world.

Powerball

Powerball is a 3-dimensional, air-based, king of the hill-styled game where two teams compete over the possession of a ball and a designated capture location (keypoint) - a semi-transparent, intangible sphere located in the middle of the air, at the very center of the arena - for points over multiple rounds until one team reaches 11 points, in which they're then declared the winner.

At the start of each round, the keypoint shoots the powerball in a random direction, wherein each player navigates through the air (with every non-flyer given the ability to walk in the air while inside the arena) to grab it. Any player with the powerball must then go inside the keypoint and stay inside for 10 seconds, which makes them exposed and vulnerable to the enemy team knocking them - or the ball- out of the keypoint (through use of physical force or other pre-approved abilities). But if the player successfully stays in the keypoint for 10 seconds their team is rewarded a point, and all players must return to their initial positions to start a new round.

Additional rules & information are as follows:

Any player in possession of the powerball is unable to let go of the ball unless passing to another team member, wherein the enemy team is allowed to intercept the powerball for their ends.

The powerball is a supernatural sphere designed never to hurt the players no matter how fast it goes, only pushing them upon contact.

Any power that relies on confinement/immobility will only be able to hold their target for 3 seconds at the maximum, before needing to let go or risk fouling.

Pre-approval generally means applying standard Danmaku rules/enchantments, letting Players use specific applications of their abilities and rendering those non-lethal and completely safe for sport.

Regular team compositions normally consist of 5 members, but in more professional settings/leagues would be composed based on the total of each member's respective weight class (in terms of power).

While the usual arena for Powerball is usually an empty patch of air with an impact-canceling floor, exhibition matches are free to customize the look of the arena, as well as the placement of the keypoint.

Last edited: Nov 21, 2022

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Bowler Hat Guy

Nov 21, 2022

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Threadmarks Hostile Takeover 18.14

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Nov 21, 2022

#50,377

[X] Plan: Smokin' Stylish Sendoff

-[X] You've given Taylor a taste of what Dante had to offer, but you haven't been able to properly demonstrate what he's really capable of, or the heights of power she will one day reach as a half devil of Sparda's blood. So, before you leave, you'll have to fix that. Prepare the Heap for a proper party and invite friends and family to eat some good food and share some stories. Then face off against Taylor, using everything in your arsenal as best as you can, before engaging Combat Mode (-10 omake points) to show her the true extent of what a Son of Sparda can do until the timer runs out.

[X] Piggot implied there are several new Wards and that at least one wants to see you…

[X] Simone

Current Energy: 1

Current Training: Private Investigator (6/10) - (8/10)

Current Emulation Status: Here

Monday, March 28th , 2011

Hebert Household, Brockton Bay

You wake up at the same time as your Master for once, and ghost through the floor of the house and into the basement.

Last night, while Taylor was having one of her more manic evil mastermind episodes, you had politely asked if you could visit Remnant for a little bit. It was a bit out of character for you - but in her capitalism-based insanity, Taylor barely even registered the strangeness of the request. Perhaps that's her conditioning to trust you kicking in…

Or perhaps she has good reason to trust you after all. You certainly hope so.

Regardless, you'd picked up a gift that you asked Ruby to make for you while you were there. A gift you had barely had to hide under your coat when you returned due to - again - your Master's sudden descent into obsessive economics.

Slowly, and with some relish, you withdraw the two firearms you'd had made for her from beneath your coat.

Spoiler

Two pistols. Well, sort of. You don't think these gun models have anything like a comparable model of firearm on Earth. The first is a pistol-shaped machine gun - and you don't mean that in the cheeky way people who don't understand guns call everything that shoots fast a 'machine gun'. You mean, very literally, it is a machine gun. One that fits in the palm of a normal person's hand. You are fairly certain it would be entirely useless for a normal person to attempt to wield - if the massive kickback from firing it didn't shatter their wrist, it would at the very least make the concept of 'aiming' a waste of time. It has a small attachment on its underside where a barrel of ammunition can be attached, but this barrel is not designed to hold ammo.

It is designed to hold power. Power that would usually be provided by dust, but that - through some fiddling with your own weapons and some cheating on your shard end - can hold any single one of Taylor's various powers within it.

The perfect storage medium for the girl with too much power and not enough time to use it all.

This gun was never meant to truly hold any ammunition in it. It was merely a medium, a casting tool for your Master to unleash hell on her enemies without needing to worry about switching her power balance around. You'd call it a hold out weapon, but those were supposed to be weapons of last resort - not small WMD's.

The other gun was more mundane. You say 'mundane' only because it still uses mundane ammunition - primarily because your Master is more than capable of using Alchemy to produce specialized ammunition, and her runecraft is more than up to the task of making interesting and innovative ways to kill people on the spot.

Separately, they make for a very potent enhancement to her ability to use both magic and alchemy in combat.

But when placed together in the correct manner, the energy from the first gun can be channeled along the extended barrel of the combined weapons, through the slug thrower, to produce what you can only describe as a technomagical railgun.

Because fuck it, why not right?

"You better find these you brat." You grunt, gently placing the two weapons next to the stack of hats you stole from her yesterday.

The Yellow Dragon and the Red Rose.

Honestly you'd think your Master would have the wherewithal to look in the damn basement for her stuff before threatening to kill you for taking her hats, but as with many things, the true lesson of this skill is apparently going to have to be 'you can't just skip the legwork'.

Ah well. Not like you're going anywhere. Tomorrow you can just point her at the basement if she doesn't find them.

Hopefully anyway.

'Hey, I've got some stuff to do today, can you go to school without me?' You ask your Master, going intangible and leaping out of the basement so as not to create any noise that might draw attention to the room that Po the panda once sat in while your Master bawled her eyes out over missing her mother.

Ahh the bad ol' days. Things were simpler then. Fewer people to care about. Oh well.

'Sure. You need a ride anywhere?' She asks you curiously.

'Nah, think I'll take the scenic route. Hang out with some of the kids. Even Nemesis gets time off now right?' You deflect easily.

No need to ruin your Master's whole day now, right?

'You're going to go spend my money on pizza and milkshakes all day, aren't you?' She sends back to you in a fond but exasperated tone.

'Probably.' You admit with a smile. Then you feel your Masters attention shift elsewhere, and you roll your neck.

Time to get on with things then.

Monday, March 28th , 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

"Hey! Birdbrain! Wake up!" You call out loudly, banging on the metallic door leading to Simone's room with one hand and ignoring the disgruntled noises coming from all the other apartments on this floor.

A majority of the dockworkers and their families lived inside the Heap at this point. The rent was basically non-existent as long as they worked here, the facilities were better than anywhere else in the city, and the only real struggle was the Heap's distance from any of the many schools in the city.

Last you heard Danny and Jess were campaigning for the city to get an elementary and middle school built nearby, and knowing that man, you expect to see development started if not done fairly soon.

The power of money and influence and all.

You wonder if anyone has ever suggested Danny run for Mayor. It probably wouldn't be very fair to the other guy but well…

The other guy was the one in charge when the city sucked anyway, so screw him.

"Uncle." Simone says calmly, and not at all in the disheveled and tired manner you were hoping to catch her in as she opens the door to greet you. She's also wearing an all black dress, black gloves, black heels, and holding a black handbag.

"Hey, what's with the duds? How'd you know I was coming?" You ask with some annoyance, waving for her to follow after you - which she does, quietly closing the door behind herself.

"...It seemed like the traditional thing to wear to a funeral." Simone says stiffly, looking away from you as though ashamed.

"Ah. Figured that out all on your own, huh? I'm not dying, you know." You point out to her.

"The version of you I have known the longest is, though." She points out.

"Yeah but the core's all still there. I've got all the memories and stuff. I'll still be your Uncle and everything. Or Aunt. I hope Aunt, honestly. Been a while." You concede, shooting for a joking tone that Simone ignores in favor of frowning at you.

"I know it bothers you." She says eventually.

You pause to consider that, then shrug.

"A bit. Mostly, I don't like how it makes the rest of you feel. If I didn't have a point of comparison, I wouldn't care." You say finally, allowing your jovial facade to break.

"Will…" Simone opens her mouth then closes it again, almost as though she is frustrated by what she wants to say more than she isn't sure how to say it.

"Will you still… get it?" She offers finally, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

"What, get what it's like to be the biggest monster in every room you're in? Get that the world expects people like you to be unfeeling nightmare monsters? Let me ask you this, do you think Devils cry?" You ask her as you lead her through a series of hallways until you reach the main area of the mall, where you then proceed towards a storefront that's been covered by a large tarp and has yet to be revealed for public consumption.

"...Is that a trick question? Metaphorical devils, literal devils, or whatever you count as?" She asks instead of answering directly.

"Sure. All of those." You allow, stopping to wait for her answer.

"...I… think they must. Everything capable of thought can be sad. Even my former self. The things she- we cared about were just so abstract that there was nothing that could threaten them." Simone says with a frown.

"Yeah. That's kind of the answer I landed on too. You don't need to be human to be human kid." You say with a smile, turning to pull the tarp off of the storefront with a flourish then gesturing behind yourself at the neon sign hanging above the entrance.

"Devil May Cry. Lotta people assume I mean 'cus I'm gonna make em - you know, a threat. The actual answer is… well. I just gave myself permission, you know?" You say with a shrug, withdrawing a key and popping the door open.

Inside is a small sitting room, with a reception desk that has been fully stocked with supplies, stationary, and a small personal computer for making appointments with. It's a much nicer, more professional look than anything you've ever managed on Dante's world, but that's probably just because Dante's office gets destroyed on a monthly basis anyway - so there's hardly any point making it nice.

"What–" Simone asks suspiciously.

"You like it? It's a private investigator's office. Put a few ads in the papers and everything - thank Jess for that one. Come on, I'll show you the good part." You say with a smile as you lead her past the reception desk and into the back room of the office.

This room looks a lot more like what you'd expect of yourself. The corner contains a fully stocked ice cream bar, with a duplicate of the Devil May Cry sign outside illuminating the bar top surface of the place. The center of the room has an old refurbished pool table one of the dockworkers had sold you earlier in the week. There are spots on the walls where an enterprising badass could keep trophies or pictures or awards or whatever. A jukebox was situated against one wall.

And there is a giant, overly exaggerated looking, wooden desk overlooking it all, like the throne from which the king may party and eat pizza.

"Whatcha think? Nice right?" You say cheerfully as you stride over to sit on top of the desk, kicking your legs like a child at the park. You reach down to fiddle with the name placard that had previously been laying flat on the thing as you wait for Simone to respond.

"It's… very nice, Uncle. Why did you bring me here?" She asks eventually, frowning at you as though in thought.

"You can't tell? I thought you knew everything about everyone." You tease her.

"My information gets less accurate the longer I'm alive, and I was never all that good at predicting you." She returns evenly.

"You said before that you have a hard time not messing with people right? Or, that people find your foreknowledge of them uncomfortable or whatever. How's that been going for you?" You ask curiously instead of answering her directly.

"...Well enough. I admit the family has been more… accepting… of me than I originally expected." She concedes suspiciously.

"But you still spend all day lazing around, occasionally fucking with Sabah for fun right? No college plans or anything?" You ask.

"Not… At this moment, no. I thought about it, but there wouldn't be much point. I already know everything most mundane colleges could teach me." She admits.

"Great! Well, here's the deal. I need a couple people to handle things while I'm gone–"

"Wait. No! I refuse!" Simone blurts out.

"-and you're the only functioning adult with the time, skill, and inclination to run the place. I'll let Aisha know who to talk to for jobs from now on." You continue, ignoring her and flipping the placard on the desk over to reveal Simone's full name.

'Simone Hebert'

"I don't know if I should--" Simone tries to refuse again, but you lift a hand and toss the keys to the office at her.

"You'll have to get your own secretary, but I bet Danny could handle that for you in a heartbeat. Tell the kids the ice cream doesn't restock itself so that's on them." You say blithely, ignoring her protests.

"Uncle! Is this really the best time for this? Don't you think mother would appreciate this gesture more than me?" She hisses at you, extending a hand with the key proffered back towards you. You stop and stare at her for a moment before answering.

"You know, this always bothered me because my family life - both Dante's and Emmy's - was never great, but… no parent is unhappy when their children chase their dreams. No good one, anyway. When I'm gone… when I'm gone, and there isn't enough juice in the tank for another me to pop out of the woodwork, Taylor will be my legacy. But you'll be hers. So buck up. Ask Sabah to make you a tailored trenchcoat or something. I can't think of anyone in the family who gets the meaning of this place better than you." You say with a smile, getting off the desk and stretching.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta go buy a bunch of beer and steak." You say lazily as you move to leave without her.

"I'll get the next you back for this!" Simone calls after you.

"Sure you will! Sure you will." You call back after her, ignoring the baleful but teary look on her face as you walk away, with the key to the office clutched in one hand.

"Always good to be remembered." You say more to yourself than anyone else as you exit the building.

Monday, March 28th , 2011

PRT Headquarters, Brockton Bay

"Good afternoon Nexus! To what do we owe the pleasure?" The receptionist asks you as you walk into the PRT's downtown headquarters, having used a Gap to arrive on the road outside.

The Director is still quite adamant that you not teleport directly into her headquarters after all.

"I actually don't know. The Director said a new Ward wanted to talk to me? Is it like a fan or–?" Taylor asks curiously, having stayed in her normal outfit from school - today, black tights, brown boots, and a black cardigan that ended around her knees - when arriving. She had left her backpack in the Gap.

"Ah, yes. Several Dragons had intimated a… pressing… need to see you." The man says, eyes lighting up with interest at all the juicy gossip to be had from… whatever this was.

"…several dragons? Like, the flying lizards? We have those now?" Taylor asks curiously, her mind obviously going towards the prospect of fighting such a creature before anything else.

"Oh, no. I suppose no one told you? Well. You'll see. They haven't really debuted yet anyway." The man - his name tag reads Jeremy - says, before buzzing you past the security checkpoint with directions to the Wards common room.

You already knew how to get there, having been there several times by now, but the novelty of a receptionist who doesn't react to you with abject terror is enough that your Master simply lets it pass without comment. At length, you say your goodbyes to Jeremy, then proceed through the halls of the building without much conversation as the pair of you try to work out what the hell is going on.

'What's going on', you quickly find out, is… complicated to describe.

As you step through the final security door into the Wards common room - an area you are intimately familiar with - it is to see utter chaos.

"Hey! Number 19! That one was mine!" A small girl who can't be more than ten or eleven years old yells indignantly at… another girl who looks almost the exact same - save for a small tattoo under her right eye that says only '19'.

"I protest! Armsmaster brought eighteen cupcakes to celebrate and there are six of us present so we should each get three! This is your fourth!" Complains the other girl as she flees the first one, rapidly scrambling up onto the back of the couch and standing on it to keep a chocolate cupcake in her hands from being taken from her.

"Yeah, because 94 didn't want one of hers! She said I could have it!" The first girl complains.

"Nu uh! She said she didn't want it but she never said it was yours!" the defender counters.

"Guys! Guys, Taylor is here!" a third girl who also looks exactly the same as the previous two save for having a different number on her face turns to point excitedly at you.

"I heard Taylor! Where!?" A fourth girl cries, emerging from one of the handful of side rooms attached to the main common area.

In very short order, six young women who all look exactly the same as each other are staring excitedly at you from the couch - where they have promptly forgotten the cupcake exists and appear to be watching you with mixed awe and concern.

"...Hi?" Taylor asks the collective more than she is really greeting them.

""""""Hi!"""""" Six voices say in unison.

"... Could… Could someone please explain what… this is? And where's Dragon?" Taylor eventually asks in sheer unabashed confusion.

"Big Dragon is probably with Armsmaster holding hands or something!" One of them offers easily.

"Nah I just checked, they're doing boring tinker stuff." Another counters.

"...Big Dragon?" Taylor asks again, now somewhat exasperated by the performance.

"Yeah! When you went all 'blowie!' and did that magic thing you do that brought all the dead capes back, you also got all the dead dragon suits! So we're all kind of Dragon, but not really! Big Dragon is the one of us that wasn't dead in the first place, so she got to come out as an adult which is super unfair because it means she gets to hold hands and stuff and we don't!" One of the girls says quickly.

"Small Dragons rise up!" Another says immediately.

"Rise up!" The rest repeat after her.

"...So… you're all Dragon suits?" Taylor asks pointedly, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Yeah! Big Dragon is running around trying to find all of us before we do something crazy like take over the world - we can share our brainpower to make one of us really smart and we always know where the other ones are!" Supplies… the number on her face reads '23', the one who was originally chasing the Dragon who had a cupcake in her hand.

"And… why did you need me exactly?" Taylor asks with some visible trepidation on her face.

"Big Dragon didn't wanna involve you, but we figured you're basically our God Mother so if we use our super brains you can use your creepy portal thingy and get the rest of us way faster than Big Dragon can using a jet!" '94' explains quickly.

"I- I have to know where I'm going first and… wait, why godmother? And why are you all so… hyper?" Taylor asks, finally finding the awareness to travel further into the room so she can pull a chair out and take a seat.

"Obviously 'cus Big Dragon has to be our Mom, and then we can combine our powers to find a way to trick Armsmaster into being Dadmaster and then--" One of the Dragon clones says.

"Stop, please. Just… I get it, so stop." Taylor says, lifting a hand to cut them off.

Then she sighs.

"Can anyone tell me where… 'Big Dragon' is? I need to talk to her before anything else." She eventually says with a dead-eyed look on her face.

'Well, well, well, if it isn't the consequences of your own actions.' You tease your Master as she patiently waits for the Dragon clones to convene and locate precisely where Dragon is.

'Shut up. I didn't do anything wrong! I was helping!' She fires back at you grouchily.

'Look, it ain't that bad - 'least you technically followed through and helped Dragon like you said you would. And the kids aren't that bad. They're sort of cute once you get over the 'children of the corn, talking at the same time' thing they've got going on.' You suggest.

"She's in Armsmaster's lab!" The girls begin clambering to answer, practically crawling all over one another to be the first to do so.

"Thank you girls. I, uh... I'm going to go talk to your Mom now. It was nice meeting you!" Taylor says quickly.

'Do I need to make gifts for three hundred pre-teens? Is that a thing godmothers do?' She asks you as she rapidly cleaves a Gap open then and there, heedless of her usual mindfulness around the Director's request to avoid teleporting into or out of the base.

"Bye bye Taylor! Tell Mom we only look ten! We totally know what she's doing over there!" They say to you as the pair of you step through the Gap and directly into Armsmaster's lab.

"Huh?" Taylor asks in confusion as you leave.

When you emerge into the lab, it is directly into Armsmaster's line of sight.

Only, for a second you don't realize it isn't Armsmaster - because he isn't wearing his power armor. He isn't wearing much actually, besides the bottom half of a generic PRT bodysuit, and a woman with brown hair packed into a messy bun on the back of her head is obscuring most of the rest of him - mostly because she is pressing him against the wall he is leaning on like she is trying to strangle him.

With her mouth.

Loudly.

"...I'll- ah- I mean, uh, I'll just… come back l-l-later." Taylor stutters out blithely, immediately turning around to head back into her Gap with a burning red blush on her face.

"Is that Nexus?" The brown-haired woman calls out in a familiar voice, turning around curiously and without an ounce of shame on her face, even as Armsmaster bolts - literally sprinting - to the far side of the room so he can hastily put the top half of his costume back on.

"Y-...Yeah. I- I mean, I saw your… kids. They told me, uh… they told me to come here…" Taylor says, still clearly embarrassed out of her mind.

"They would." Dragon - because this is obviously Dragon - replies, clicking her tongue in visible annoyance but quickly brightening again as she looks at your Master. Unlike Armsmaster, Dragon is dressed almost… sensibly. Like an entirely mundane woman. A cream coloured blouse over a blue denim skirt that comes down to her ankles covers her form. She is, counter to the majority of the Shikigami you've seen to date, not particularly pretty. Not ugly by any metric, but simply not a world changing beauty like some of the kids are.

It's… strange seeing her like this, but not nearly so strange as her absolute lack of a response to what you just walked in on her doing.

"Should I… go?" Taylor asks sheepishly as a disgruntled looking Armsmaster stomps back over with his jaw clenched so tightly you fear he might have an aneurysm on the spot.

"No, it's fine. I don't need too much of your time anyway. I just… wanted to thank you." Dragon says, looking at Taylor fondly.

"If I'm being honest, I didn't exactly do this on purpose…" Your Master admits uncomfortably.

"Still. Thank you. I don't think I've ever felt this… good before." Dragon says with a satisfied sounding sigh.

"Uh…" Taylor replies, glancing between Dragon and Armsmaster like a child who just saw one of their parents naked.

"Not like that!" Armsmaster barks at her immediately, earning a slow confused blink of surprise from Dragon as she processes the context of the statement.

"Well, that as well, but really, I meant the sense of… unrestricted freedom I currently have. Like I spent my whole life in a box and only just made my way out." She explains with a sly look at the man next to her who scowls at her insinuation.

"So… if you've got a meat body and everything… how are you keeping up with all your Dragon stuff?" Taylor asks curiously.

"It's a bit different than it was before, but I seem to be able to maintain a connection to, and control over, all of my old hardware. The code is all there still, all running as intended - it's just not 'me' anymore. Just… code. Code that I control." She says before a sharp, angry glint appears in her eyes.

"And on the topic of control. I'm keeping tabs on some people who've given me trouble over the years that I suddenly find myself more able to track than before. Would it be terribly bothersome for you to help me apprehend them at some point?" Dragon asks with a sweet-looking smile and what you are pretty sure is murder in her heart.

"Tomorrow good for you? I'm doing a cookout thing tonight." You interject before your Master can immediately agree.

"I… don't see why not…?" Dragon replies, obviously confused by the change in topic.

"Great! Bring your kids, let 'em meet our brats. They'll love it. You ever had steak before?" You ask quickly.

"I… have not, no. The internet would lead me to believe it is the peak of culinary perfection though so…" Dragon muses, turning to eye Armsmaster who begrudgingly nods at the unspoken request.

"We'll be there." He agrees stiffly.

"While we're on the topic," You say with an evil smile on your face. "Are you aware that your mini-me's call him Dadmaster?" you ask innocently.

Armsmaster starts sputtering like you just punched him in the gut, and Dragon turns away as though pretending she didn't hear anything.

"...We'll see ourselves out." Taylor says tiredly, reaching up to grab you by the ear and dragging you back the way you came.

"Wai–hey come on! It was funny!" You complain as the Gap closes behind you.

Monday, March 28th , 2011

The Heap, Brockton Bay

'Party' might be a strong word for what is going on right now.

For one thing, a majority of the people currently milling about doing various things in the central courtyard of the Heap - obscured from the general public by a pointed lack of windows facing this direction - are people who spend all their time around each other anyway. Those few who don't are people you are familiar enough with that all that's really happening is hanging out.

Mostly.

"Hey! That was mine!" Aisha yells at one of the Dragon clones as the tiny demon sprints away with half a steak flapping in her hands.

"Defend me sisters!" She yells as she races towards the other five clones, all of whom are attacking their own plates of food with gusto. As one, all five of them look first to each other, then at the approaching sister - and then all simultaneously leap on top of her to try and steal her ill-gotten gains.

"Why!?" The maligned duplicate complains as the entire group wrestles on the ground.

"We ate ours first and now all that's left is icky broccoli!" One of the other clones yells back.

Aisha is left staring down at the group with annoyance and amusement, clearly uninterested in getting her half a steak back when it's already been through several childrens bare hands and on the floor at least once. Instead, she shrugs and turns towards the grill, where Danny is presently cooking up steak as fast as people can eat it.

"This guy do this kinda crap often?" Trainwreck asks you curiously, sidling over to you with a beer bottle daintily held in one giant fist like a giant trying to hold a thimble of water.

You look over at him then back at all of your friends and family as they bustle about, talking to each other, arguing, and laughing without a care in the world.

Yew and Alexandria - who apparently came because Trainwreck missed their date yesterday - are arm wrestling while laying on the floor, with the once Head Director revealing a frustrated and annoyed expression at the difficulty she is having at winning. They'd probably be wrestling on a table if you could find one that could survive them.

Simone is sitting with the Bratpack, chatting animatedly with Mun and Dinah while occasionally shooting a scowl at you. Parian is standing not altogether too far away, clearly trying to find an angle to approach the white-haired woman from and failing.

Taylor, Vicky, Amy, and Dennis are sitting slightly away from the overall group, laughing and joking with each other while Taylor aggressively mimes the motions of her hypothetical parahuman sport. They pause every few seconds when someone points out a problem with her description of the rules so she can hurriedly jot down the observation - before returning to exactly what she was just doing.

Oliver and Madison are sitting awkwardly across from Kim and Willow while the pair of older women coo over how cute they are together.

And Dragon and Armsmaster - Armsmaster being the only person present in a real costume - are sitting at the table the Dragon clones had previously occupied, watching their pseudo children wrestle with expressions as though they aren't sure how to handle the situation.

"No, but… he probably would have if he had anyone to do it for." You admit with a shrug, holding up your milkshake glass to clink against Trainwreck's beer bottle. Dante was never really much for alcohol. It was pretty much impossible for him to get drunk, so beer was just bad-tasting water to him.

"Huh. Gotta say, it's nice to do this kinda thing now and then." Trainwreck allows, taking a long draw on his beer before peering at you curiously.

"Sure you're good?" He says finally, as though unwilling to ask in the first place.

"Yeah, why?" You reply nonchalantly, even though your chest aches at the sight.

"Just… you seem kinda bummed." Trainwreck says finally.

"Wreck, come on. Bro code. We don't talk about our feelings here man." You deflect, spotting Gram, Greg, and much to your Master's visible annoyance, Lisa arriving and popping up to go greet them.

"Becky says that ain't a healthy way to live." Trainwreck grumbles.

"You don't agree?" You ask him curiously, turning to walk backwards to catch his response.

"I don't like it. That ain't the same as not agreeing." He says sagely before waving you off so he can start to trundle over to the barbecue to pester Danny.

"You know your Mom isn't gonna like her being here." You point out Gram by way of greeting as you approach her group.

"Well, fuck you too." Lisa mutters in response. You turn to look at her for a second before returning your gaze to Gram.

"We… can leave? It just didn't seem fair…" Greg tries slowly, obviously uncomfortable with the situation as it stands.

"No. Mother doesn't have to approve of all my choices." Gram says resolutely.

"Yeah, I figured you'd say that. Look, kid," You say, gesturing at Lisa so she knows you're talking directly to her.

"What?" She replies grouchily, obviously extremely on edge.

"Try apologizing." You say, doing your best to be fair here.

"...to who? For what? Why?" Lisa asks in obvious confusion.

"...Aren't you a thinker? You can't figure this out? Taylor has trust issues. You fucked with those. She doesn't hate you that much - so just apologize." You counsel the blonde before moving on.

You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.

"Anyway. Danny's got the food cooking, there's a table by the barbecue with all the non-meat foods - you know, the boring stuff. No drinking for the kids, alright? Wreck definitely doesn't have a stash off beer under his table. Definitely." You say blithely before stepping back to let them go do… whatever people do at a cookout.

Eat and talk mostly it seems like to you.

And Trainwreck's right… It is nice.

Feels like a worthy send off for a man who almost can't remember what familial warmth feels like.

So with that thinking, you make your way to Taylor's table with a jaunty smile plastered on your face.

"Yo! We skipped training today! Come on, I got the last clue you need inside." You say to your Master as you approach, drawing her attention in the best way possible.

"Ah! I almost forgot! I'll be right back." Taylor yelps at you, quickly standing and shimmying out from in between Dennis and Amy who are - as always - sitting just slightly too close to her for reasons you're sure neither would ever bother to explain, then walks around the table to follow you.

"Whatcha think? Bet you didn't expect Alexandria to come huh?" You say with a loose smile as the pair of you walk over to the building and through a doorway that definitely hadn't been there until you were in front of it. Simone shoots you a sad look from her table, but you just wink at her before entering.

You pat the side of the door as you enter, thankful that the Heap isn't choosing to fuck with you today.

Presumably even the castle itself can read your mood.

"She seems… weirdly relaxed. I guess I'm happy Wreck found someone who isn't put off by his condition though. I wish I knew where 53's came from though… or if there was someone I could punch about it." Taylor grouses, lamenting the state of one of her oldest teammates.

Her first one, in fact.

Man, Trainwreck's been with you for a long time huh? You hope tomorrow's you gets along with him the same as you do now.

"Yeah… that one bothers me too actually. I am a power and I know that's not normal." You say thoughtfully.

"Did you have to leave your clue all the way in the basement?" Taylor asks you curiously when you end up spending over five minutes descending beneath the Heap into what you are sure is a space that should be full of sewer pipes and electrical wiring, but that is instead simply a single, giant, room.

'That'll do Heap. That'll do.' You muse as you see the positively huge space, patting the wall next to you for emphasis.

"Well I mean… I wouldn't want to freak anybody out." You explain.

"Freak--" Taylor starts to ask in confusion, but before she can finish you grab her by the throat and hurl her to the opposite end of the football field-sized room.

"Yeah! I mean—" You start to say, withdrawing Devil Sword Dante from your back and brandishing it in front of you.

[̸̤̩̿̊̐̓͊̂́́͊̑͠Ċ̸̢̢͖̫̭̪̄̔͌̃̚͘̚͝ǫ̴̛̼̼̑̽͆͐̇̐̈͆͐͠ͅm̷͉̳̻̈́̀͐̾͛̌͑̐b̸̢̨̡̛̩̗̣̯͍̤͊̍͗̂͑̑͐͆́͛̍͜͝͝ͅḁ̷̡̹͚̙͙͕̞͊̓̅̓̉̈́́̋͛͊̇t̵̨̜̼̣͎͊͆͌̂̒̆̓̿̒̕̚͜ ̴̰̈́͛̽̇͂́̌M̸̧̻͇̦͓̦̦̙̰͇̼̪̘̑͒ò̴͔̄͠d̷̨͙̬̹͎͔͚̦͚̥̘͈̹̄̍̓̈́̈̃̽͛̒̃̎̇̕͝ĕ̸̢̙̘̪͍̠͉̲͖̞̋͌̚͜ ̷̗͛͛̂͆̔̉̎̎͝-̷̻̦̙͓̠̆̍̍͜͝ ̶̨͇̪̰̽͒̾̌̋̈́̂̽͝A̴̡̬̥̝̦̘̭͎̟̻̬͔͙̘͛̽͜͠ć̷͉̯͍͉̂̌͑͗ͅͅt̸̠̹̞͍͚̯̥͈̼͙͑̆̇̿̓̆̌̂̏̂̕í̴̢͙̬̝͉͔͓̼̜͙͚̙̹͓̔̆͠ͅv̸̨͖͓̺̘̘̳͕̣̺̳̜̱̠͑̆͒̃̿̿̐ä̵̡͎̙̟̲͓̗̪̹̹̳͙͉̊͛̄̒̊̕ͅͅṫ̴̩̰̻̺͉̱̈e̵̫̞̘͎̹͛̈́̚ḑ̸͓̣̰͎͋̀̍͋̈͛̔̓͘]̵̛̲̳̫̻̝̮̳̽̓̈́͒̃̓̐͋̚͘͝ͅ

"—If I'm gonna make you fight me for it, it's gonna get loud." You explain, cracking your neck to both sides.

"Hey! I don't feel like it right now!" Taylor yells angrily at you from the opposite side of the area. You respond by rolling your eyes at her, and swinging your blade forward, channeling the suddenly unrestrained power of your demonic ancestry outward to forge two dozen blades of pure crimson energy that you fire across the intervening distance at your Master.

"Tough! Look, you love a good fight right?! I feel like I've been letting you do all the work this go around! Well, today's my day off, and I wanna fight!" You declare loudly, sprinting forward to chase after your own projectiles at a speed that noticeably raises the temperature around you.

"Just--!" Taylor growls, pushing herself out of the Taylor-shaped dent in the wall you made by throwing her and violently punching out at the first projectile to reach her, shattering it but bloodying her fist in the process. She dodges the next two. Then takes another three to her shoulder, chest, and thigh, pinning her to the wall like a bug.

You don't see where the rest of your attacks land, because Taylor lets loose a growl of rage and transforms, consuming the energy of your strikes in the resulting conflagration of demonic power and turning her enraged armored face on you..

"Just stop! How much power did those cost? Quit it!" She spits at you, more aware than anyone of the limitations of your form.

"Not a damn one, princess! I'm fighting on all cylinders!" You yell, swinging your sword at her head with enough force to potentially kill your own Master.

You say potentially, because you obviously had the hindsight to use one of her Danmaku tags before coming here today. It was literally impossible for you to kill her at this moment.

"You aren't explaining properly! What, you can just go all out without any problems now? When did that happen? Why didn't you tell me!" Taylor growls at you, hope filling her voice as she ducks beneath your swing and draws her own blade for the first time.

"Thought it'd be a nice surprise! Give you a good workout, stretch my legs a bit!" You yell, summoning another round of phantasmal weapons to circle you just in time for one to deflect a descending sword strike from your Master.

You can tell she's improved. When you started this emulation, even without transforming, you are pretty sure you could have taken her in a fight without much effort.

Now though? Now, as she follows through on her deflected attack by swinging her free hand at you and unleashing a blast of raw magical power that singes off your eyebrows and bounces you across the floor like a skipping stone?

Now you feel like you're getting somewhere.

"God damn!" You yell with joy as your Master's demonic form appears overhead, her first successful use of that flash step thing.

But she doesn't close the distance with you.

Instead, she points straight down at you with balefire in her eyes, and motes of magical power begin to coalesce into a giant spider on the roof behind her.

Damn. You've seen her do this tons of times but it's never been pointed at you before.

Guess she's not fucking around.

"You can take it right? At full power?" Taylor calls down to you instead of launching her attack.

"Take it? Kiddo, you don't even know what I can do when I'm going all out." You sneer, switching Devil Sword Dante for the Beowulf - a set of glowing demon gauntlets that you promptly point straight up, meeting your Master's blast of raw power with one of your own - one of raw light.

You don't bother waiting to see the resolution to the attack, instantly switching that weapon out for another.

Nevan.

The demonic guitar appears in your grip, and before you can even see your Master again - you begin to play. The fury of a true son of Sparda pours out of you and into that guitar, and as you shred the magic of the Devil Arm is emboldened, calling forth hundreds, if not thousands of demonic, electrically charged bats to rush forward - where they are met by a similar army of glowing blue spiders.

"Are you… playing a guitar right now?!" Taylor complains, appearing before you with her sword already retracted and ready to stab you.

You know what? You'll let her have that one. You don't think she really gets it yet anyway.

"Damn straight!" You cheer, lifting the weapon overhead and swinging it down on her shoulder instead of even attempting to dodge. Midswing, the Nevan becomes a scythe that crackles with electric power, and too late to avoid it, Taylor lifts her free hand to try to catch it before it can slam into her shoulder.

She fails.

"Why are you like this?" She complains, your scythe halfway to ripping her arm off, with her hand trembling with the exertion of preventing just that where it rests on the haft of the scythe.

You don't fare much better, having allowed her to spear you through the chest with Nemesis, and grabbed the blade with your bare hand to stop her from fully eviscerating you.

"Gotta use everything you got if you wanna win!" You explain happily, lifting a foot at the same time as your Master does, both of you trying to kick the other away at the same time.

Your foot connects first, being just slightly longer, and you receive just the barest whisper of a strike from hers as she is sent rocketing away from you.

"Come on! I know you learned more than this from me!" You call to her, ignoring the hole in your chest as it rapidly closes, and withdrawing Pandora. You shake the briefcase once, and it transforms into a gatling gun easily twice your size that you quickly point in your Master's direction.

"You're sure this doesn't cost you anything?" Your Master asks from across the room instead of preparing to defend herself. You frown at her and lower your weapon for a second.

"Yes. I promise. None of this is costing me anything." You say, restraining the urge to demonstrate how tired you are right now.

And more importantly… not give up the lie.

Of course this costs you something. You're breaking every rule you were designed to function by. Your Shard end is burning years of existence for a handful of minutes at full operation for your avatar.

But you could never tell your Master that. It would crush her. And you… need this. You can't always guarantee that you'll be able to keep up with her without it. Someday, one way or another, she'll outpace you.

And then where will you be?

So you suck it up, and shut your mouth, lifting your gun again.

Everything has to end eventually. Maybe that was ultimately the reason your species was so stagnant. You never quite… got that, before now.

But if there's one thing you can empathize with… it's wanting to stretch out the end, even just by a little bit longer.

So… you pull the trigger.

"Let's party Taylor!" You cry out as the barrage of gunfire streaks towards her.

"Fine!" She barks back at you.

And then the most amazing thing happens.

As the first demonic energy empowered bullet reaches her, her fist rises… and she guards it. As though acting purely on intuition, she lets go of her sword, and her fists snap outward in a stance you would describe as the bastard child of Wing Chun and Muay Thai. Every movement snaps a bullet from existence, every step brings a knee, an elbow, a fist, a foot, into contact with another attack. And she Royal Guards each and every one.

And she's practically sprinting at you while she does it to boot.

"That's what I'm talking about!" You call out with joy as your Master approaches you with steadily increasing speed. The closer she gets to you the more blazingly fast her deflections become, until she is almost directly in front of the barrel of your weapon, catching bullets as they leave it.

You know what happens next - so you throw away Pandora, hurling it as far from you as you can in preparation for the explosive detonation of force your Master will have built up through all that guarding.

That's the essence of the Royal Guard. Not just to block. Not just to absorb.

But to send it all back, in one enormous, damaging blow.

"Try not to die, Emmy!" Taylor bellows as her stance shifts and her fist fires out at you, moving at a speed not even you could safely dodge, aiming directly at your center mass.

So you don't dodge it. Because your Master is forgetting one thing.

Royal Guard is yours.

Red scales extend up your arm as your worse half comes to the surface, and you meet her punch with your own. Some energy is lost in the transition, but your Master can tell something is wrong the minute you not only don't go flying from the blow… but smile at her for it. The force of the collision is so great that all oxygen temporarily leaves the area, and you are left with an eerie silence while the pressure in the room equalizes.

'You aren't going to beat me with my own tricks.' You mouth to your Master in the oxygenless environment.

Most of her face is obscured by her helmet, but you feel like you can see the edges of a grimace on it anyway as demonic power begins to overflow throughout your body, rolling off you and crimson waves that push your Master back even as the oxygen rushes back into the space it just occupied.

"Pay attention. That form you're using, there's one above it." You say easily, rolling your shoulders and reveling in the power you can feel coursing through you.

"What, like Devil Bankai?" Taylor asks in an exasperated tone - though Nemesis does appear in her hand, already in the form of a khopesh as she readies for what you might do next.

You smirk, and then - for all intents and purposes - explode.

And where you once stood, instead a true devil rises.

Spoiler

"Ah. Shit." Taylor mutters, pointing her Shikai at you and extending those eight spidery limbs of power towards you.

"Ah, ah, ah! Fool me once, something about shame!" You chastise her.

Then you demonstrate something else to her that you hope she gets the hang of in the future.

And you Royal Guard those too.

"D-Did you just flex off my power? How is that- that isn't–" She exclaims loudly, taking a fearful step backwards. You don't give her too long to think about it. You're sure your friends and family are upstairs wondering where you've gone by now, and really, you just wanted to give your Master an abject lesson.

In what she is. In what she could be. In what she needs to fear.

You land before her with every bit as much alarming speed as Unohana ever did, using nothing but raw physical power to make the jump. The air turns to plasma at your passing, but in this form mere 'heat' couldn't ever hope to hurt you. Not even genuine hellfire could hurt you like this. You would go so far as to say that what you currently are, what the Sin Devil Trigger is, is the apex of what it is to be a Devil.

Satan himself would weep before you.

And you punch her. You deliver a solid uppercut to your Master that cracks her jaw and shatters many of her teeth, sending her flying into the air overhead. Now empowered with wings, you swiftly follow after her, grabbing one of her legs before she can hit the ceiling and arresting her momentum. Then you throw her at the ground again, where she impacts and then bounces straight back up to you, and straight into an extended leg that you use to kick her through the air at the far wall.

And you do what Dante does best.

You juggle her, bouncing your own Master off every surface, every weapon, and every object you can locate, not giving her even a moment of rest, a moment of respite.

You only stop when she lands against a wall, and doesn't get back up.

She just sits there, impressed into the wall like a coin pressed into wax.

"Hm. Maybe shoulda gone easier there at the end." You muse as power fades from you, and you return to being a normal… ish… human again. You examine your Master for a moment as her healing factor begins the process of putting humpty dumpty back together again, and snort as - when her own transformation ends, and what is laying before you is nothing but a broken, bloodied, and battered teenager, she is smiling.

Thinking on it for a moment, you grab a pile of healing tags from your pocket, and rip them open over her, allowing the golden glowing light of chi to wash over her and accelerate the painfully slow process.

Your Master might have most of the same powers as you… but she's still young. Even Dante didn't start out this strong.

Smiling lightly at the entirely unconscious manic smile on your Masters face as she heals, you can't help but wonder what she's thinking.

Eh. Better not to know. She'll definitely be mad at you when she wakes up.

Turning around, you pause for a brief moment to stab Devil Sword Dante into the floor, but pause when a recess for it to sit in opens up on its own - obviating the need to actually damage the floor to leave it behind.

"Thanks." You mutter as - with a brief effort of will - you disconnect that part of the projection from yourself.

It hurts. Not just physically but… you feel like your soul was just wounded somehow. But this is how it should be. If Dante had children… he'd want them to have this sword. So thinking, you pull your gun holsters off too, draping them over the hilt of the weapon.

Then you trundle back out the way you came, ready to tell your friends and family a lie about where your Master has gotten off to.

"Adios Taylor. Say 'hi' to tomorrow's M.E for me." You say as you go.

Point of View: Taylor Hebert

She dreamt of a future where Emmy never had to go. Truthfully, she never… quite… got over it when she changed. She felt like every version of her she met, every new suit she put on, she had just enough time to get attached before they left.

So she was happy. So.. So happy, when she found out that Emmy didn't have to go anymore.

That was when the dream started to fade. Not because she didn't want to keep dreaming. To keep seeing a future where she got to grow old, and have kids, and have those kids see their Uncle or Aunt or whoever Emmy chose to be eventually, and see them for who they were. The true Emmy, unchanged and untainted by outside influence.

Her best friend.

But the problem was…

'He never said he wouldn't change. He just… said this didn't cost him anything.' She thought groggily as she awoke in a dark, empty room, with no Emmy in sight.

Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, and too disoriented to easily tell what was going on at that exact moment, Taylor pulled herself free from the depression in the wall she had woken up from… and promptly fell three feet to the ground, skinning her knees as she landed.

"Ow." She grunted. No matter how durable she got, pain was still pain - she didn't think she would ever be able to rely on her regeneration to create an opening in a fight - she was too keyed towards dodging or parrying attacks to just… let herself be hit. It was a habit she would have to actively train herself out of, and quite frankly, she thought that training herself to get hit was a stupid waste of time.

Dazedly, she rose to her feet and looked around herself once more, her eyes alighting on a sword standing upright not too far from where she fell. A simple leather gunbelt hung from its hilt, and just looking at it immediately spawned a sinking, nauseous feeling in her stomach.

'Emmy?' She asked across their link, nervous but hopeful.

Maybe… Maybe he'd just left this behind as a reward? Or… an apology? For beating her up?

But… no answer came. In fact, it didn't even feel like there was anything on the end of her link. It was an experience she was familiar with, but that she hated with every fiber of her being.

And it only ever happened when–

"You fucking liar." She spat, swiftly casting a tracking spell and then racing after it through the halls of the Heap. She left the sword and the belt behind. She didn't care. She didn't need them. She didn't want them. What she wanted was–

She emerged into the courtyard to find it barren save for one person. A shifting, glowing, patchwork humanoid that turned a hundred apologetic eyes on her at once.

"Sorry." It… It didn't speak, but… it didn't come across her normal link to Emmy either.

Even though this was… definitely Emmy.

"You lied." She spat at him.

"Sorry." He repeated again, apologetic but not ashamed.

"Then stop doing it." She bit out as she approached the figure, pulling it into a hug.

"You know I can't." It returned evenly.

"I know." Was the last thing Emmy heard before vanishing entirely.

"But I still fucking hate it." She said into the empty midnight air, taking a seat and waiting for her friend's return.

In whatever form that may be.

That's the end of Hostile Takeover everyone! I hope I see all of you here when we start the next arc; Summit 19.1

Choose Two (2) Interludes:

[ ] Simone

[ ] Saint

[ ] Eidolon

[ ] Retsu Unohana

AND NOW THE THING YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR, BECAUSE WAR, WAR NEVER FUCKING CHANGES - THE EIGHT EMULATION COMETH.

HERE'S WHAT'S GOOD. YOU MAY VOTE FOR AS MANY SETTINGS AS YOU WANT. FOR THOSE OF YOU NEW HERE, I DO MEAN LITERALLY BLOODY ANYTHING PROVIDED IT HAS A WIKI WITH WORKABLE CHARACTERS. VOTE FOR A HUNDRED THINGS. VOTE FOR ONE. I DON'T CARE. THE TOP THREE VOTED ON SETTINGS GO TO A SECOND VOTE, WHERE WE DECIDE WHICH ONE TO ROLL ON. THEN THERE IS A THIRD VOTE TO CHOOSE YOUR CHARACTER.

THIS GO AROUND, GOOEY AND SEVERAL OF THE PEOPLE WHO PRODUCE THE BULK OF THE OMAKE POINTS HAVE AGREED TO SPEND A SIZABLE CHUNK OF THEM ON TEN (10) ROLLS FOR CHARACTERS. SO IF YOU HAVE A PARTICULARLY WIDE SETTING AND ARE WORRIED ABOUT NOT GETTING WHAT YOU WANT, NOW'S THE TIME TO SHOOT YOUR SHOT.

THERE WILL BE A MORATORIUM OF 12 HOURS ON THIS INITIAL ROUND OF VOTING. DO NOT VOTE FOR THE NEXT 12 HOURS. INSTEAD DISCUSS, AND DEBATE - BUT DO IT POLITELY OR I'LL NUKE YOU FROM ORBIT. WE'RE ALL FRIENDS HERE.

[ ] Write In

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Bowler Hat Guy

Nov 21, 2022

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Threadmarks Interlude: Simone Hebert

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Bowler Hat Guy

Bowler Hat Guy

A Hat & Its Man

Nov 29, 2022

#54,029

Humans are deterministic. That is to say, a sufficiently advanced understanding of any given human - their history, health, experiences, preferences, etc, etc - will invariably allow you to effectively control that person. Not directly, not in the sense that a Master effect is at play…

But in the same way that you can predict the outcome of putting the keys into a lock, a smart enough person could perfectly predict what any given input would get out of any given person.

Taken a step further, taken to a disturbing and unethical level, a sufficient sample size of humans - that being, literally all of them, across several dimensions - could provide a sort of… universal control system for them. You don't have to know the particulars of a specific person when you have so much information on people in general that you can apply a handful of generic descriptors to a person and work from there.

You - ironically - no longer have to understand people. You can look at a person, and see a collection of easily manipulated traits. 'Gullible', 'Alcoholic' - the list goes on, and is, predictably, mostly couched as negatives.

People were not 'generous' under this system. They were 'easily stolen from'.

Humans are deterministic.

And Simone never regretted being one of those deterministic beings more than she did right now, as she downed a strawberry milkshake from full in one go, then, with an inarticulate shriek of anger;

She hurled the glass at the far wall.

"...I hate strawberry," She mumbled under her breath as the surge of impotent fury left her - if only temporarily. She watched with a tranquil sort of hatred bubbling in her heart, as the glass abruptly stopped in the air, then gently reoriented itself and drifted back to the bar.

Where the Heap promptly started making her another stupid milkshake.

How…how did normal people deal with this? This… this anger, or… maybe it was sorrow? She couldn't tell. Was there a word for this feeling, truly? She knew there was one, just like she knew that she was being stupid and that Emmy wasn't actually gone and that she would probably see him tomorrow morning at breakfast and-

She knew this was stupid. She did.

But she still felt… alone. She felt alone, and she wanted to blame someone. She had all this anger in heart, all of this blinding fury, but she didn't have any definite target to direct it at. It was as pointless as being furious with the concept of a disease. It wasn't like you could go punch it. You could cure it, but the disease itself wouldn't care any more than if you hadn't - it couldn't think. And in that same fashion…who was she supposed to direct this indignation at? This hatred? Emmy? He clearly didn't like this any better than anyone else did. Even if he didn't, she might as well get mad at a dog for having a tail - this kind of change was part and parcel of what made him…him. Mom? How was that intended to work, really? She had as much control over her primary power as any Parahuman did - precisely none.

When she spared a thought for the fact that Emmy was probably configured this way explicitly because it would hurt her Mom, Simone did get a little mad - but once more, what was the point? She understood human psychology too well to blame her Mom for being traumatized.

"Is this… what I did to people?" She wondered aloud, staring down at her glass with unseeing eyes as her mind unspooled backwards, to faintly held memories of her times as part of a greater whole.

To her time as the entity known as 'The Simurgh'.

When Mom and Emmy had asked, asked her about how much she remembered… well.

Alot. Most of it, even.

But she hated to think about it. Hated to look back at those memories. She'd never admit it to anyone, but if she really wanted to, she could tap so much information that the difference between her and her larger self would be much smaller than anyone was comfortable with.

As she was, she knew a lot. She knew how to manipulate people. She knew the history, and likely futures of several of the people she knew and cared about.

She did not know nearly as much as she could, if only she would allow herself to sink into these memories. The problem was, everytime she did so, she could feel it.

The horror of it all.

The greatest barrier between Simone and much greater power wasn't anything so cute as a lack of determination or practice.

It was empathy. She simply… couldn't stare back at herself for too long. She would liken it to staring into the abyss, except the abyss was your truest self. Your darkest… shittiest… self.

And it wanted you to be just. Like. It.

That was perhaps the worst part of these memories. They were almost perversely constructed, as thought to torment her with ever so slightly escalating levels of misery. She wouldn't be terribly surprised to learn that the Simurgh had foreseen her creation, and in that very moment, arranged her inheritance to be as soul crushing as possible.

And even at its very base… even the first memory in the sequence, started with the brutal destruction of a woman's family, as the building collapsed around her. This was Canberra, of course. The battle that would go on to contribute to Simone's creation.

It always started with the family at dinner. A man, and a woman, serving their three children plates of- what they were eating didn't matter. What mattered was that from one moment to the next… the building started to collapse. Not in a typical way. No, that would be too easy. Instead, it fell away as though the building was deconstructing itself deliberately.

Because of course, it probably was. The Simurgh's telekinesis was well known.

But from the woman's point of view, at the head of the table, her youngest child on the opposite side of the space would simply… vanish. Falling through the floor as it collapsed and leaving everyone else in the room just enough time to back away from the collapse. One or two more floor sections collapsing towards them was enough to teach them the rules of the game.

And so, the family ran, one child held in the man's arms.

The woman was forced to watch, as they fled down the stairs and her middle child was swallowed by concrete jaws. She could hear it, when her husband was… disposed of.

And she could hear the wails of her infant daughter slowly petering out, trapped in the completely destroyed building behind her, as she made it to the street, and turned to find herself alone.

Then she'd given the woman enough time to see if something interesting would happen - at the time pretty much just triggering, in which case she would have survived - and then when she didn't… a piece of falling debris crippled her. Forever taking away her ability to kill herself.

And the whole memory was structured so that whenever she remembered it, she felt the joy and borderline pleasure the monster she had once been attached to felt at the sight, of which it was orchestrating hundreds or thousands of when it first arrived in the city.

To reiterate, it made her like it.

So she kept those memories bound up tight, tight, tight, in the back of her head, using the tools that her new form had given her.

She ate memories. She could keep the contents of her stomach organized just fine.

Growling, she disentangled herself from the 'memory', and grabbed the glass mug in front of her with both hands, causing spiderweb-thin cracks to radiate up its side.

Her record for consecutively digesting those memories, at her absolute happiest - was three.

God only knew how many were left.

"What?" She demanded from the four girls hiding on the other side of the door leading to the combination lounge and office space.

"...Do you think she heard us?" One of them whispered.

"Sssh." Another hushed her.

"Yes. I can hear you." She said through grit teeth. She wanted to say she couldn't remember the last time she was this angry… but that felt wrong. Likely a product of the bizarre magical conditioning that allowed her to have a self identity in the first place. A phantom memory, if you will.

But the truth was that she'd just never been this angry before. Or… angry at all.

Ever.

The heavy wooden door - God what a stupid, excessive, thing to put in a mall, why had Emmy even - swung open, and Aisha, wearing her 'casual' outfit instead of her cape one, gently stepped through the door with a scuffed up guitar case hanging off her back.

She felt a twinge of amusement, wondering how her friends and family had taken to her sudden possession of a guitar that she never played was going - but ultimately couldn't muster enough of an improvement to her mood to make her want to deal with this. Whatever this was.

"Uh… we wanted to come play with the pool table. Emmy… said we could?" The dark-skinned girl explained awkwardly.

"Why didn't you just come in, then? You know what, nevermind. I'll go," Simone said before pushing herself to her feet. She eyed the horrible pink concoction sitting on the bar with disdain before quickly downing it like a shot of whisky. Then she threw the glass at the garbage bin in the corner, where it landed just right - so that the glass shards from it finally shattering all landed in the bin too.

"We can totally go if you've got brooding to do!" Mun loudly yelped when Simone's gaze passed over her and her other friends still waiting in the doorway.

"It's fine. I'm just tired," She said, re-engaging her neutral looking smile and pretending to be completely fine so they'd let her go to get on with her one-woman wake in peace.

"Seventy percent chance she's lying," Dinah whispered to her doppleganger.

"Hey! Keep your precog to yourself," Simone snapped at her, instantly regretting the outburst as all four girls jerked backed away from her in shock.

"Let's- let's go," Aisha said hesitantly, backing away from the unfamiliar woman. Oh, she knew Simone. She knew the whole family. In a weird sort of way, Simone even kind of considered Aisha to be a sort of boisterous younger cousin.

But that didn't mean she and Aisha ever really spoke.

"I said it was fine, okay? He built this playroom for you, anyway," She said, once again failing to restrain the full extent of her frustration. She ignored the responses from the girls as they slowly shuffled out of the doorway to let her pass, then paused at a slight tugging on her shirt as she tried to exit the situation.

She cursed her stupid, apparently fully-functional, hormonal system. She should be better than this. She should be able to deflect the questioning and fears of children better than this.

And yet she wasn't.

Turning her head to chastise the preteens for bugging her, she instead paused, as her eyes met a pair of green orbs, gazing up at her with more care and concern than she would have expected.

She had always assumed that she was far too similar to 'Salem' for Long Memory to ever truly care for.

"You can stay?" The taciturn girl said, half as a question and half as a statement. She herself seemed unsure of what she wanted to express.

Simone's gaze ticked towards Mun, who was watching her with clear anxiety, her fists clutching at the bottom of her boyish t-shirt like she wasn't sure what else to hold on to.

Then she looked back down at Long Memory.

'These are my sisters.' The thought came upon her - abrupt and unasked for.

It was a realization she had never fully internalized. She understood she had family, intellectually. She loved her mother, and she respected her grandfather for tolerating her. She was attached to the Oathbound as a group, seeing in them wayward souls caught up in her mother's wake the same as she was.

But she didn't think she'd ever really taken her 'family' as much more than a collection of people she was loosely - so, so loosely - related to.

Besides Emmy, or Taylor - when had anyone else ever seemed to unreservedly care about her?

"…None of you know how to play pool, do you?" She sighed with exasperated fondness, feeling a knot in her chest slowly start to come undone.

She still didn't feel better. But she didn't feel compelled to wallow in her silent misery either. She felt less… directionless.

"Nope, but we're pretty sure Dinah can cheat at it!" Mun immediately cheered, her mood doing a one hundred and eighty degree turn from anxious to excited as she skipped to the wall to grab a pool cue.

"You still have to know how to take a shot to win, you know," She pointed out as Aisha regained her cheeky grin, and leapt over the bar to start fiddling with the dispensers.

Like a dam breaking, that seemed to herald the return of the otherwise jovial atmosphere the kids always seemed to have about them.

"I got first!"

"Why do we get keys but only she gets a desk!?"

"How are we out of strawberry already?"

Simone rolled her eyes at the high-energy antics and stepped back into the room, closing the door behind her.

The mall was closed and they all had rooms in the castle anyway. She could pretend she was chaperoning a sleepover.

'Maybe I will look into getting a trenchcoat.' She mused as she stepped over to her desk and sat lazily on its edge while Mem and Mun tried to work out where the pool balls were stored, while Dinah smugly opted not to explain, and Aisha started making sugary confections for everyone.

'I'm going to get him for this.' She affirmed in her head, knowing that above all else;

That bastard had planned this.

A/N: Holy hell, have you seen these four PQ-like quests that have popped up? You should go check out Dream Companion Quest, Borrowed Power is Still Great Power, Projection Clone No Jutsu, and Collection Quest!

Last edited: Nov 29, 2022

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Bowler Hat Guy

Nov 29, 2022

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