Thank you to everyone who provided feedback on Chapter 1.1 and I hope you're enjoying the story so far!


1.2 – In Service of the Dockworkers' Association and a Tailor

Returning to work that Sunday led to something of a stir within the Association. Clearly just about everyone was curious enough to find a few minutes off work to watch Danny Hebert's daughter work absolute magic in cleaning those warehouses that had been sitting disused since as far as most could recall. In all fairness, she was impressed as well.

Yesterday, it took Taylor something like four hours with her power to clean up the one warehouse. Now, knowing how she did it last time she was able to reduce that to about three and a half. She'd even bought that duster with her first paycheck, a meagre $40 or so, allowing her to clean up the shelves much faster than with the damp cloth; which required her to rinse it every fourth pass. Now she'd simply knock the lion's share of the dust onto the floor, then mop it with that industrial monstrosity she'd found in the back of the place Morgan showed her. The remaining layers on the shelves could be taken care of much quicker that way.

"Hey Taylor" She turned to see Mr Benjamin's eyes widen behind his spectacles as the man walked into an area which had been covered in dust-fog mere hours ago, now only a bit remaining "You've been working a real miracle on these warehouses. I never expected for you to do such a good job by even my wildest metrics. Truly, well done"

"Thanks, Sir" smiled Taylor "This warehouse is nearly done; I expect that there is still time for me to finish one more today"

"I wanted to speak about that actually. Taylor" He put a hand on her dusty shoulder "You've worked at a rate beyond every expectation and are doing work that every cleaning firm in the city labelled as 'beyond saving' and charged us far more than we can afford. So, I'd like to make a deal, you finish all these six warehouses and we'll throw in a bonus of a thousand dollars. I know it's probably not enough…"

"No, Mr Benjamin, Dad always talked about how there's never enough in the DWA's coffers. I'm sure he wouldn't want me to bankrupt you by doing too good a job. Besides, a thousand dollars is enough, it would be more than a month's salary working like this. I'm taking you up on your deal"

The man smiled proudly and handed her some papers "Thanks kid, I'm sure Danny would be proud"

As he left. Taylor turned back to working on the shelves, having the warehouse clean by lunch.


She'd spent lunch chatting with some of the Dockworkers, eating a chicken, egg and bacon sub from that same Italian place. Some had been interested in meeting the head honcho's daughter but most wanted to hear how I was working the magic on those warehouses. Apparently, the last guy to try and clean them gave up after a week or so and still refused to step within a hundred feet of them these days.

She'd spent that time explaining that she'd been cleaning ever since she was little and that any good cleaner could have probably done the same. When they looked at her in disbelief she'd just gone back to eating.

Now, as she began to clean the third warehouse, it took her a moment to realise that, rather than many shelves with boxes and cans of stuff, this one had an entire floor of industrial machines; The dust having mixed somewhat with whatever industrial grease and lubricants had once been used in here.

Well, it took only a thought for her to recall how to disassemble and clean all of this, then another to optimise her work schedule; her power was certainly situational but at times like this, she'd have nothing else, except perhaps hydrokenesis, though pressure washing everything would've done nothing for the state of the machines.

Having taken care of the worst of the dust, Taylor moved to open up the first machine, an old lathe, conveniently noticing that the particular key needed to get it open was hanging on a tiny hook along with a few others on the other side of the floor. It did not escape her notice that she would never have spotted something so small so far away through her glasses before yesterday. She really needed to spend more time getting to know her powers.

Inspecting the motor and driving belt, she found them in a bad state with rust-covered holes poking through the matt red finish on them. According to her power, both the belt and perhaps the engine would require replacement, the years spent near the saltwater having done a number on their insides, but there were still some things she could do with the supplies available to her at the moment. She began to gently wipe off the old grease using some paper towels, using some tools from a nearby stand to remove the corroded parts and set them aside. She would have to speak to Morgan to ask what she should do with the scrap.

The headstock, tail and winch appeared to be mostly fine. She sanded down what rust there was and then polished them briefly, then replacing the grease with some relatively fresh product she'd gotten from a can that had still been sealed as far as she could tell. It wasn't exactly what she was hoping for, but it proved that her power had limits, she could not snap her fingers and create new parts, even if Taylor was sure that the motor of the old lathe was a Chizou Z630 and that they were no longer in production. Would her power give her the knowledge necessary to fabricate one? Perhaps, but she was ultimately here as a cleaner and the maintenance she had been performing was very much on the edge of her remit.

A remit sounded about right actually, Taylor thought as she closed up the lathe and went over to the next machine; a bandsaw with the once-flexible sawblade almost entirely covered in orange. She was here 'in service' of the DWA as a 'cleaner', so presumably she got all the knowledge necessary to do that particular job, which was why her power hadn't given her any knowledge on how to fabricate electrical motors. What if she had been hired by them to fix the machinery, to repair a ship, to clear the Bay of all the sunken wrecks that had clogged it up and killed off Brockton Bay's shipping industry? Presumably, she'd get the knowledge necessary to do that, but… would it even be all that useful?

It did not take an Einstein to consider that experts had probably looked at the bay and decided it was not worth the cost of cleaning up and leaving it at that. Would she simply be given the same data and conclusions as them? being unable to do anything about it no matter how much knowledge there was in her head. More testing would be necessary.


Morgan had been surprised when she'd asked him what to do with the useless motors, simply having her leave them on a moth-pecked blanket outside while she showed him the refurbished machinery and informed him that, unfortunately, a good portion of some machines' components were no longer in production.

"That's alright" he waved at the cleaned machine shop "Frankly this stuff was consigned to the scrapyard, the only reason we haven't moved it is that it would take a lot of men and heavy vehicles to move some of these. They weren't exactly hurting anyone so we left them here a long time ago. But if you say that they can be fixed up I could probably argue for keeping at least some, if the repairs aren't too expensive"

"I could write you a list of which components need replacement per machine" Taylor offered

Instead of nodding the man just sighed "Look, I could accept you being really good at cleaning, not that I'm complaining by the way. But now you're a specialist in the repair of vintage industrial machinery? I'm finding it a bit hard to wrap my head around this whole situation, do you feel me?"

"Erm" she stuttered, weighing the pros and cons of each excuse she could present, or even just admitting that she was actually cape super-maid "I guess it's just my superpower, you know. Really good at cleaning things"

"You know what then. I'd probably better not ask anything else" Morgan winked "God knows, we could use some capes around who fix and clean stuff rather than wrecking it, not that there isn't a place for that mind you"

She'd written up her recommendations for the parts and he led her back to the office where Benjamin awaited them. She explained the note, even offering cost estimates and which machines would be the cheapest to bring back online. The man looked stunned and she noticed that he'd nearly spoken up at a few points only to hold his tongue when Morgan shook his head behind her.

"Thank you for all that Taylor, and for all the excellent work you've done for us this weekend. There is the matter of your paycheck for us to sort out, I presume you'd prefer to be paid weekly?" At her nod, he placed a few ticks on the form and passed it over "I just need the details of your bank account for the deposits to go through. The banks won't be open until tomorrow though, so for this weekend we'll pay you in cash if that's alright"

She had been counting the money when she noticed that there were a few notes too many "Mr Benjamin, you appear to have overpaid me. There is $180 here"

"The extra hundred is a starting bonus, plus a little something for what you've managed to do with the old machine shop. Frankly, for your skills, I think we may be underpaying you" he admitted

Taylor wanted to refuse, she was already getting the massive bonus for the 6 warehouses, and now this? But thoughts of her dad and their situation made her ignore the uncomfortable feeling, she gratefully accepted the cash. Leaving the two dockworkers with her bank account details and the proud stride of someone who'd just received her first paycheck.

"So… I suppose I don't need to say out loud that she's no ordinary cleaner?" noted Benjamin as he filed the papers.

"No, you don't, and I'll make sure the boys don't say anything either" said Morgan "She's a good kid, for all she's done for us at $5 an hour, I'd say we owe her that much"


It was fairly late now by Dad's standards. He didn't like it when she stayed out too late and Taylor could see why. It was around this time that the 'nightlife' of Brockton Bay came out to play, which meant that as the city passed her behind the windows on the bus, she could see green and yellow armbands, a block down, men dressed in black with red bandanas. She wasn't exactly thrilled about staying out either, even if she was a cape now, but groceries had started running low and she needed to stop by to grab enough to cook herself breakfast and dinner for the week; lunch could be had at Winslow, even if it wasn't good, it would at least save her having to carry an extra grocery bag.

She'd called Danny as soon as she got home, telling him about Morgan and Benjamin, her first paycheck and all the cleaning she was doing. She didn't mention that she was a cape now, but that was probably better for an in-person conversation once he was back home and healthy.

Having put away the groceries, called her dad, taken a shower and changed into PJs, Taylor was finally done with all the distractions, she'd even done her homework that Friday to make sure there was absolutely nothing left to interfere with her cape research.

T. H. (Cape name?) Wonder Maid, Servant, Fixer, Skill Monkey, Mend?

There was no doubt about it, she was not good at naming things, clearly by how few she could get onto the paper on her desk. Servant wasn't really that good of a name, but it would do until she thought of something better. She was not going out as Wonder Maid!

As for her costume, she decided to avoid anything skintight, yes it was something of a tradition for superheroes to go out in spandex and a cape, but she really wasn't comfortable with it; she had no curves, barely a chest and though her long legs were nice… No, she would go out in something a bit more ordinary because she didn't intend to get into big battles with other capes, there wasn't really a need for armour or some fancy utility belt, it would be cheaper that way too.

She was looking up capes on the PHO wiki, setting aside a picture of those who had interesting outfits, but there were so many and honestly, none of them looked right for her. They were too flashy, required tinkertech material or made her stand out in public.

She'd long decided not to join the Wards, if not for her general distrust of authority figures, then for the utter joke of a salary they got paid. She could make more continuing to work for the DWA, let alone in the private sector, speaking of which, that was probably the avenue of choice. She would make good money, if not for her cleaning skills, then for the novelty of rich folks to have a cape clean their house, or business, or whatever. Taylor had considered doing more speciality stuff like the machine repairs she'd recommended to Mr Morgan, but it seemed unlikely that anyone would take an underage girl without any formal certifications to work on sensitive machinery.

That was why she'd decided to go for a maid outfit. No, not one of those skimpy ones you could get at the Halloween store that opened every autumn, or those that could sometimes be seen in the window of a store Dad kept her away from when they'd still go on walks into the city together. Instead, she went for a more early-1900s look, with a relatively unadorned black skirt which would go down to her shoes, a black blouse covered by a white apron, an absolutely classic look for a servant. It looked like she'd be going with that name in the end, she mused.

The issue was however twofold: Firstly, there wasn't exactly much of a second-hand market for servants' clothes of the era. Secondly, custom pieces that would leave her waiting for months for a single handmade skirt and likely would leave her with nothing until next week's pay came through, there was also the concern that if the maker ever learned of her business, they would immediately know her identity and Dad's as well. Perhaps she could sew it herself, but there was no way she'd be able to do it without her power and she would probably have to get a job as a seamstress or repairing clothes to access those skills, so it sadly wasn't an option.

As she was researching her options, she found the webpage of a shop called 'Parian's Dollhouse' which was run by the aforementioned parahuman. According to PHO, her power was control over fabric, and that she was one of those rogues who genuinely tried to avoid to avoid gang politics, just trying to run her store in peace. True, it would be risky to come in person and just ask her to make a costume, but with her power, it would probably be complete in days rather than months. She scrolled through the gallery on the website and found herself impressed with a lot of her work, even if it was a bit too frilly for her cape work.

Closing her laptop, she looked at the paper with her sketches and the address of Parian's shop. It was open tomorrow until 5pm, so she'd make her way there after school, praying to God that Sophia, Emma and Madison didn't somehow find out that she had $200 stuffed into her socks; she wouldn't risk putting more than a few dollars into her wallet, it probably wasn't beneath Sophia to attempt to rob her with how the three's harassment campaign had been escalating.


Fortunately, her socks had remained unmolested, even if she had to rinse out her hair after Emma had 'accidentally' spilt at least a quarter of her orange juice down onto her as she sat in the cafeteria eating lunch. Fortunately, she did not need her powers to wash the juice out, while she imagined they could probably have given her some super technique for hair cleaning, she would just sigh and ignore how situational her powers were.

She'd gone over a few quizzes on PHO during computer class which were supposed to categorise a power on the PRT classifications model and she was clearly a Thinker with perhaps minor Brute and Mover elements, though of those two, only her newfound dexterity would warrant a classification of even 1+, while the strength appeared to be barely noticeable beyond feeling more awake than usual after the school day was over.

The bus stopped near the Downtown area, continuing on its after-school route as Taylor checked the address once again and headed onto the Boardwalk, one of the few areas that at least appeared to be looking well unlike the rest of Brockton Bay. Now that she thought about it, perhaps she could also ask Parian about running a parahuman business, seeing as the young woman could somehow afford rent in one of the most expensive spots in the city, she had to be doing at least reasonably well.

'Parian's Dollhouse', as it turned out, looked at least somewhat like a dollhouse, looking odd compared to the modern glass, steel and occasional concrete brick architecture of its neighbours. The pane glass storefront showed several frilly dresses, some of which she had seen on the website last night. She entered, wearing a pair of dark prescription sunglasses, for lack of any other mask which wouldn't give off the wrong impression.

Parian herself was reasonably tall, perhaps a bit shorter than her, and wore a lace dress, perhaps adjacent in era to her own plans, though she'd clearly shown off her skill by the number of pleats, the intricacy of the lace. The doll-masked woman gave her a little bow "Welcome to Parian's Dollhouse, it is a pleasure, what can I do for you today, Ma'am?"

"Hello, I'm Servant" She stopped herself from naturally giving her real name and the doll-cape's eyes widened "I'm a bit to cosplay but I've recently gotten into it, I was hoping you might be willing to make something for me. Would you mind if we spoke in private?"

Parian nodded and gestured for her to sit down on an exquisite sofa made of green velvet on dark wood legs, the tall woman closed the curtains and flipped the 'open' sign outside before restoring light to the store by flicking a light switch. "It's nice to meet you Servant, I must admit that your name is a bit… odd if you'd permit me to speak plainly. Do I understand you correctly that you're a new cape?"

"Yes, I only got my powers last Saturday. I must admit, I'm not really good with names, sorry" she admitted sheepishly.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to be rude" Parian apologised "Now then, what sort of design are you looking for?"

"Well," Taylor passed her yesterday's sketch "My power is essentially to be really good at whatever the person I'm serving needs, cleaning, repairs or whatever. So, I wanted to go for something like an Edwardian Era maid for my costume, but there isn't really anything available off the shelf which would be suited for cape work and there isn't much of a second-hand market for it"

"Hmm" mused Parian as she looked over the sketch "Are you sure? I can't say the design will be well-suited to combat, the length of the skirt would certainly keep you modest but it might also be a trip risk while running" she looked at Taylor expectantly.

"That's alright, I'm not really looking to join any teams or get in any fights. I plan to offer parahuman cleaning services to whomever needs them, I want to help my dad pay for bills and stuff" she replied hesitantly.

To Taylor's surprise, this caused Parian to move closer on the sofa and by her tone she appeared to be smiling "Then it's lovely to meet a fellow entrepreneur! And I really like the theme you've got going on, even if it is a bit plain for my tastes" a rope floated over to them carrying a pad of paper and a pencil "let me just sketch out a design and we'll see how you like it!"

The woman tried to keep her right hand low as she sketched, allowing Taylor to see the design she'd described come together. With a few comments and the omission of a few pieces of lace which she insisted would get torn or dirty too easily, there was now a stunning representation of her standing in the dress with her hands to the side, more details and pleats appearing with every second

"I'd like to thank you for coming by Servant. I do get some cape clients who come to be for their costumes, but as you've probably seen, the capes of the city seem to have some unwritten agreement that everything must be skintight or armour. There is no appreciation for a dress, just skirts so short they serve no purpose beyond looks!" commented the tailor as she continued to focus on the sketch "It's a lot like my own aesthetic really, which is a mix of historically inspired elements on Goth Lolita as well as anything else I like the look of, and I'm very much looking forward to working on this project, even if it will be a fair bit plainer than my own."

Finishing the sketch Parian began to muse and add little annotations "I think a mid-weight wool would work for your outer garments while linen would be for the undergarments and apron since that's easy to wash. We should also add a little cap to hide the length of your hair and…" she paused, looking back to Taylor's drawing "I don't see a mask on your sketch at all, do you plan on being an open cape like the Daltons? I don't think that would be a good idea if you're looking to avoid fights"

"Sorry, I didn't really have any ideas. A full-face mask would make me look intimidating, and it would be good for people to see my facial expressions. Perhaps a domino mask? Those aren't very expensive if a bit generic" Taylor commented with a little shame at having forgotten such an obvious detail.

Parian was not paying attention to her. She was deep in thought, staring at the papers while the cord floated off into the back of the store. "I have an idea if you'd like a non-threatening alternative" Receiving an affirmative she took a bundle of ribbons and cloth strips from the returning cord and showed them to Taylor "You could have one of these cover your eyes, tied in a bow at the back of your head. I can make something like this but almost completely see-through, you'd also be safe from sweating it up while you work, unlike a conventional mask. Would you like to try it?"

Taylor was about to protest, but the eager twinkle in Parian's eyes led to her taking the offered strip of dark cloth with a sigh, turning around to remove her dark glasses and tying it on with more than a little help from the woman. Surprisingly she could see relatively well through the cloth, even if her lack of glasses made things rather blurry at any distance beyond a few feet. She had been about to mention some concerns as to whether the strip would be enough when she turned to see herself in a mirror Parian brought out.

Whoever she was staring at was not Taylor Hebert. She had none of the bags under her eyes, the red spots from where the glasses had rested on her nose were covered, her face looked softer when the drop from her cheekbones to the eyes wasn't as obvious and while the imperfections on her skin were still there; they were barely noticeable compared to the strip of colour across the girl's face.

"See, it looks great. If you use glasses, some contact lenses would be a good investment in any case, since wearing the same pair in your cape and civilian life would be an obvious giveaway"

Taylor hesitated to remove her new mask but did so with some reluctance and slipped her prescription sunglasses back on. "Thank you, this is all amazing. I don't think I could afford more than one costume right now but could I return for more in the future?"

"Of course, Servant" Parian nodded and headed for the till "Now then, I expect that with the multiple garments, fabrics and labour costs along with the special material I'll put together for your mask. That will be a total of $760 plus tax. I can have this done for you by next week since I don't have any other cape orders to work on"

Taylor stared at the beautiful carpet on the floor of the shop. She had been so stupid, even if most of her garments didn't cost more than $20 and she didn't know much about fashion or clothes shopping, she should still have realised that a bespoke cape costume made of high-quality materials and with the expertise of someone like Parian would cost more than the cheap cosplay she'd been looking at. The $200 would have been enough to buy from a higher-end online cosplay shop and receive something of acceptable quality which would not have been made entirely of plastic and popped open at the first strenuous use. Clearly, that did not meet even a fraction of 'cape costume' quality, and the resulting costs.

"I'm sorry" she began to shake a little "I've only got 200 dollars for this. I'll just go…" she stood up, embarrassed to have wasted the woman's time when she had been so nice and drew up a beautiful costume to her needs.

"Wait!" Parian called after her "I'd be willing to make you an offer!" Taylor turned back to stare at the woman "If you don't have the money now, how about you work for me for a few days and we'll call the 200 dollars good enough?" she came over and stood at her side "I know what it's like to start out and it's not easy out there, especially for us rogues. So, if you'll let me, I'd like to help you out in exchange for some help around the store. Just some cleaning, fixing stuff and whatever else you can do"

"That's very generous of you. Why?" asked Taylor, turning to look at Parian with some suspicion, her eyes gazing into those of the tailor.

"Because I want some help with cleaning my store, while you want a costume made by yours truly" the woman tilted her head as if with a sad smile "and there aren't any rogues in this city besides me. It would be nice to have a friend. I haven't had any real friends for so long…"

"I don't know how good I'd be as a friend Parian. I've got my own issues, and I don't want to burden you with them. Besides, it's been years since I've had friends, I'm unattractive, not much good at talking and right now my dad needs me more than ever; which is why I'm getting into the cleaning business and working at the docks, who knows when I'll even have time to hang out with you"

"A burden shared is a burden halved, that's what my father told me. I've got issues of my own you know, E88 is still sending the occasional customer to try and recruit me, and it seems like sometimes my shop is more of a tourist attraction than a serious clothing store. You don't trigger without having some problems of your own" she admitted looking away "But if you'd really rather not, that's alright, you can just come back when you've got the cash, I won't bother you any further"

"You aren't bothering me" Taylor spoke up, clutching her sketch "I know it's a business for you and all, but you've been nothing but kind and helpful. I appreciate it very much" She stepped closer to the tailor and took her hand "I don't know if I'll be the sort of friend you deserve, but I accept your offer. You'll make my costume, and in exchange, I'll pay $200 and 16 hours of cleaning or whatever else you need me to do around this place"

Parian looked up "Truly? You'd be willing to work for me, to be my friend even?"

"As far as I can tell, you're a good person. I don't need some deal to hang out with you"

Taylor's emotional intelligence had been somewhat stunted by the past few years; it had been so long since she'd seen tears come from joy rather than pain.

"Allow me to introduce myself" Taylor grinned "Taylor Hebert, at your service"

"Sabah Al Assad, I look forward to it"


Parian is the only rogue of note in Brockton Bay we know of. If that's true then she truly has nobody on her side, the gangs want to recruit her to bolster their cape rosters while the PRT offers no protection while maintaining the threat of finding her guilty of whatever and forcing her to join, Canary proved that depending on the Rogue's powers and what their PRT branch director thinks, they are very much at risk. That's why I've written Parian as particularly lonely; she is an immigrant to the US who arrived without knowing English and while she has family there is nothing to suggest she has strong bonds with fellow capes, at least at the start of Worm.

Now she'll have a Thinker friend who'll hang out with her who's just as lonely as she is, though this is mostly because she doesn't know any other capes personally so far. This isn't a Taylor/Sabah ship fic, nor is it going to contain lemons. But they will be close friends because damn Taylor could use some.