Antecedent 0.6
Fatigue rolls over me like a heavy-duty blanket. I attempt to pull myself up a bit more, but at this point I don't believe I'd be able to move efficiently by the time I get to the top. The only change in my body I've found so far are my dulled nerves, and this serves to prove that larger lungs were not an effection of it.
I shake my head and jump back down. I land softly enough, though my hands sting slightly when I hit the ground, even with chitin reinforced hands. I shake my hands and stretch them out a bit as I survey the situation, looking back up the wall.
I was barely over what I believe to be a fifth of the way up when I jumped. By all means, I did not think this would be an easy task when I planned it over less than two hours, and half of that time was spent walking here, but I did think that it would be much easier after I found a spider.
I have a new idea in mind either way now, one I'm annoyed at myself for not implementing sooner. I slowly take off my shoes and peel my socks off as well. I place them directly next to the wall, the socks neatly folded over the shoes, and hop a little bit in place. The ground is not cold. Satisfied, I place my left sole on the wall and tense in a similar manner to how I do it with my hand. I pull a little bit and it sticks firmly in place. I untense it for a moment before placing both of my hands on the wall as well. The building's wall is not cold when I touch it. I sigh and pull myself up. Something tells me this is going to be a long night.
Unlike before, where I made the hindsightfully dumb decision to climb using my sneakers, I actually make it to the roof this time without any complications. I fall over onto my back, exhausted. Even with my newer method, it still ripped the wind out of me. I look above me. The Protectorate Headquarters is a close seven meters away from my head. While I take a moment to breathe, I close my eyes and expand my control sphere.
The usual flies, cockroaches, lice, and other insects scuttle about in the nearby houses but they are not my focus. I inwardly hope that it didn't fly too far, because the farther the sphere goes, the more I start to feel a little sting in my head. The sphere is now about a half mile wide and I am on the verge of a full-blown headache when I finally find it. I open my new pair of eyes and direct the dragonfly towards the building I'm on. Little guy tried to run. Not yet.
It reaches me after a minute of waiting. I had brought it with me on the way here and kept it in a close-ish distance to keep watch of my surroundings. Now, it would be serving a different purpose. I finally manage to catch my breath and sit up just in time to see my dragonfly friend flutter over to me. My lip twitches, no malice behind it this time. I stare off into the distance, towards the nearby ocean. There were too many people watching over the main PRT building downtown, so I decided to come here to the one closest to the coast.
I direct the dragonfly towards the palace-like structure in the ocean. Apparently, when I already have an insect under control, I can move it much farther than the control sphere goes, allowing me to reach massive distances. I tried it out earlier tonight with the dragonfly. I just lost focus of it while climbing up the place.
It takes the dragonfly a half hour to reach the HQ. It is only a minute more before it finds a vent near the bottom. It has an opening far too small for any normal person to fit inside. This does not matter to me for obvious reasons. I stretch my hands and wrists slightly before lying down again; it's much easier to control it when I'm not using my real body. Closing my first pair of eyes, I put all of my focus into the dragonfly, replacing its mind with my own. I enter the opening. The vent's walls are cold when I touch them.
My new vision is somewhat unusual, though, being used to seeing through human eyes, of course it would be. While having my nightly walks, I would take a bit of time and practice putting my focus into the insects under my command. The feeling is still nauseous, but the aches that came with it have essentially disappeared.
Navigating through the metal tunnels, I expand my control sphere again, searching the building. The building is surprisingly clean of most pests. It's to the point that I'm unsure if what I'm looking for is even there.
It probably isn't, in both cases. Though, also in both cases, I've come too far to stop now.
I suddenly feel a presence in what feels like a supply closet a few floors down. I say that because the presence is, at this moment, attempting to eat some clothes. I tune into its mind. From how it hadn't made any progress, I can only assume that they are for the Wards. My stationary body's lip twitches. One day, this moth could be trying to eat my clothes.
I redirect the moth through a nearby air duct near the ceiling and bring him through a maze of vents in an attempt to find the room I'm looking for. While that happens, I continue moving through the twists and turns to find the moth, and join eye and ear.
The two eventually meet at a junction and start exploring together. I do not know what motivates me to start giving them voices in my head, be it boredom, entertainment, or both, but I start imagining a conversation between the two.
What is your name? Says the dragonfly.
What is yours? The moth replies .
Ah. Apprehensive, are we? The dragonfly jubilantly asks.
No, I simply wish to know your name first. The moth replies.
Fine, then. My name is… The dragonfly pauses.
What's wrong? Asks the moth.
I…don't know. I don't think I have a name. Says the dragonfly worriedly.
Hm.
What is it?
I don't think I have one either.
Well, that's troublesome. The dragonfly pouts. What will I call you when I need to refer to my new friend?
We're friends? The moth asks.
But, of course we are! Wait a moment, let me ask my other friend about our names. He turns his attention to me. Miss, what are our names?
Oh, they're speaking to me now.
Uh, I don't know either.
Then make some up for us!
Please do. I'm getting a bit worried.
Hm. I think for a moment. I go with the first names in my mind. Okay. I will call you… I mentally point at the dragonfly. …Patrick.
Ooh, I'm Patrick. Pat. Patty. The Paddster.
Shut up. And you… I point to the moth. …are Aileen.
Oh, nice to meet you, Aily, Ally, Allison.
I'm getting tired of you already. And what even was that last one? That was nothing close to my name.
Patrick harrumphs. Sorry that I'm excited today. I'm going on an adventure, I have a new friend; can this day get any-
Shush. He quiets. Did you hear that, Aileen?
…I think I did. It sounded like talking.
Thank god. I can stop…whatever this is now. What was even the point of that?
Though, for as ridiculous as it was, talking with them was the first time since the locker I hadn't felt alone. It's…comforting.
I quickly brush off the feeling when I hear something through the metal.
I catch the middle of a sentence spoken by a woman's voice.
"-ssume we're all agreed on that?" I position the moth just outside the vent, in the top corner of the room. A gruff voice responds to the woman.
"Yes. I am still unsure how this was an accepted application. It's clear that this 'Amazing Bulk' person has connections, and is juvenile enough to use those connections, which may also be just as juvenile as them, to play tricks on us. Should I start an investigation?" I get the dragonfly into position and can finally see the room. It's like I have my own security camera. A long table stretches through the room, where various people in suits are gathered around it, with a chubby-looking older woman at the head and a man in mechanical-looking armor standing beside her. These two look important, and it takes a moment for my brain to click together who they are. Emily Piggot sighs loudly.
"No. It'd be a waste of resources and time, only the latter of which we still have in abundance. I would rather finish with the applicants to see if there are any worth spending the little we have of the former without going bankrupt. How many are left?" One of the suit-people closest to her, situated on her right, checked a stack of papers in front of her.
"I think it's just this one, Director." She pulled out one of the papers and placed it in front of Piggot. "It's an interesting one."
"I hope not in the same way as the previous." Her eyes quickly scanned the paper. She snorted softly. "Confident, isn't she; giving us her real name already?" That was me, I reckon. The paper woman cleared her throat.
"Miss Militia said that the girl didn't have a hero name yet, so she just gave them her real name. Militia also said that the interview was quite the pleasant experience. The girl was kind, confident, as you say, a bit jokish at some points. Overall, a good candidate for personality; she would mesh well with the other Wards." Piggot hummed disagreeingly.
"What about her powers? It says here that they're some kind of 'adaptability'."
"The girl had said that she could take the characteristics of animals and adapt her body in ways similar to them. She demonstrated it in front of Miss Militia who said that her hand was coated with chitin before her eyes."
"So a Changer 2 at maximum. It would be a waste." I had expected this. I was hoping it wouldn't come to the massive risk I was about to take, but I have no other choice now. I slowly expanded my control sphere from Patrick and quickly found a fly. Quite the small one, too. I fly it near the table and keep it hovering out of view as I try to find a suitable candidate for my plan. Everyone looked basically the same and I'm about to take a large gamble when out of the corner of Patrick's eye, I spot someone actually interesting.
The most eye-catching thing about this man was that, unlike the people around him with suits, he wore a pinstripe bow tie and overalls, along with some oval glasses with either silver or iron rims; I'm too far away to tell.
What catches me is the expression on his face. I focus the dragonfly's vision on his face and analyze it. He has a complex array of emotions for me to view, including annoyance and frustration, but the main one I pick up on is guilt. I can use that. Out of everyone here, I decide to take the chance with him. Moving the fly to him, I place it behind his ear, hanging off of a short strand of hair just above it. I haven't tested this before, so it might fail, but I'm willing to take that risk.
"...Co…ve…er."
He seems to stir in place, his eyes shifting left and right in confusion. I'm unsure if he heard me. Piggot is still talking, and everyone has their attention on her. I try again.
"Con…nce h…" The hearing on this fly isnt as good as Aileen, but I can hear his breath start to hitch a bit. He definitely heard me that time. I try again.
"Convin…her." While everyone is looking over to and listening to Piggot, he whispers back.
" Who's there? Why are you in my head?" Time to go well past the boundaries of believability.
"I am yo…r head. Convince h…r to let the Chang…r girl join the W…rds." His eyebrow creases. I am putting less focus on Aileen and more on Patrick and the fly. He lowers his voice to be barely more audible than a breath.
" Um, why? Director Piggot said she would be a waste of resources. If you 're my head, you'd be thinking as rationally as her."
"Director Piggot clearly isn't thinking rationally. She's thinking like a coward would, not willing to risk anything. For all you know, this girl could be the thing she needs. And if she is, wouldn't she see you as a trustworthy person?" That clearly sparks some interest in him. I go on. "Even if she isn't a godsend when she arrives, you could help make her into one. Make her indispensable to Director Piggot, and you'll have commendations across the board." I have no idea where I'm going with this, but again, gambling wildly is one way to jolt a strong emotion into me.
He sits in silence for a moment, considering the situation. I almost hold my breath from the anticipation. The second Piggot stops speaking, he raises his hand.
"Um, Director, may I bring something to the floor?" Perfect. I move the fly away from him and let go of it while getting Patrick and Aileen out of there. I think I've done the most I could for tonight. I take full control of my human body again and wait patiently for my friends. A half hour goes by quickly and I can feel myself almost start to smirk when I see them approach. Tonight was a good night, and even if what I did meant nothing, at least it was fun.
It is now daytime, late afternoon, and I am entering the PRT building with my father. He is confused by how cheery I've been acting today, meaning I started walking with a tiny, almost imperceptible bounce in my step, but he doesn't stop to ask. He's learning.
I throw on my mask as I reach the reception and ring the bell.
"Hiiiii! We're here about an appointment we had yesterday? They asked us to come back tomorrow, and it's tomorrow now, today. So, uhhhhhh, you know?" The receptionist raises an eyebrow, but nods in response, directing us through the same door we went through the day before, into the same meeting room, and onto the same chairs. The receptionist leaves and shuts the door, leaving us in the room alone.
Just like yesterday, Miss Militia walks inside the room and sits opposite to us. She has some papers in her hands. This is the moment of truth, for me, for my plans, for all the hard work it took for me to get here. She just had to say it.
"Hello, Mr. Hebert. Hello, Taylor. How are you two today?" I look up at her face. My character chuckles.
"Same as yesterday, Miss Militia. Excited as ever. Tell me, did I get in?" A bit of dread creeps up on me when I see the look in her eyes. It's a vague feeling, something related to disbelief. She blows some air from her nose.
"Well, that's what we're here to discuss today. Now, I could bore you with all the technical things and annoying semantics, but I personally choose to skip that. If you had been assigned with Armsmaster, it would not be the same." I make myself seem as excited as possible. My cheeks hurt. "Alright. I am pleased to announce…" Yes. "That, you, Taylor Hebert…" Oh, yes. "Have been accepted into the Wards program. Congrats, you're a superhero."
My character lets out a yelp of delight as my internal body relaxes. Everything was worth it in the end. That man in the meeting room came through. If I ever find him, Miss Militia holds out her hands. "Hold it. While you should be happy about this, there's still quite a bit to do. You already supplied us with quite a bit of information, so there will be less steps to go through, but there will still be a week or so before you are officially part of the team. Speaking of which…" She stands up from her seat. "What say you and me take a short walk together? I'd like to know you a bit better." A small, pleasant chill worms its way down my spine. I nod and stand up as well. I start following closely behind her as we walk to the door she came out of. I wave to my father as it shuts behind us.
The hall we're walking through is quite serene. It's mostly concrete with small lights in the ceiling above. My character hums contentedly.
"You know, you were always one of my favorites. Even my Dad, who's usually really distrustful of parahumans, he thinks you're pretty cool too." She nods dismissively, something I find odd. I see the disbelief still in her eyes, but now the expression is laced with…betrayal? "Miss Militia, is something wrong?" She stops.
I see thinly veiled anger join the previous two emotions.
"...After your visit yesterday, I tried to search up this 'Patrick Bateman' you spoke so highly of." Oh. "You neglected to mention to me he was a movie character. A horrible one at that." Hm. My character tries to keep the smile up.
"Um, what are you talking about?" Miss Militia narrows her eyes at me.
"I still don't understand what the point of it was. Was it a joke? A reference? Were you mocking me?" She started to touchlessly back me up against the wall. "I do not take kindly to those mocking me?" My character kept a nervous smile for a moment as I started thinking. What can I do now? Either way I respond, she'll think I insulted her, which will probably keep me out of the Wards. I've spent too much and done too much to lose all of this progress, so I try to think of every possible solution. And the most genius idea hits me.
I take my mask off.
"I was trying to warn you." She tries to hide her startlement, but the subtle widening of her eyes gives it away.
"...What about?" Even though I feel quite comfortable in this position, I skirt along the side of the wall to free my space a bit.
"That I may not be your ideal hero." I stare directly at her. "You see, I am a psychopath." Maybe it was the content of the sentence, or the nonchalance of the delivery, but I can see Miss Militia tense up. "Or a sociopath. I haven't researched it too much; we can't afford a computer." Her eyes are a whirlpool of emotions, switching from anger to concern to confusion then back to anger in the span of a second.
"Th…then why-"
"Why do I want to join the Wards? Simple. Evil bores me." Not the complete truth, but not a total lie. "I stole a watch once," Lie. "Wasn't fun. I sliced a squirrel's head off once," Half-truth, I accidentally crushed its head on the way to school. "Didn't affect me in any notable way." I sigh and muster the best compassionate face I can. "What I'm saying is, this doesn't keep me from wanting to be a hero. I've been able to keep up the act for this long, but I don't know how much longer." I can see the distrust in her eyes start to fade. "My father doesn't know, my mother didn't know, no one at my school knows. Meanwhile, I know that if anyone did, I would immediately be treated with prejudice and apprehension. I was hoping you would help keep it under wraps as the only other person who knows. Please. It's difficult for me to show desperation, so imagine a waterfall of tears coming from my eyes." Miss Militia chuckles at that, before shaking it off. She stays silent for a few moments thinking. I pull out one last ace. "Also, think of the PR. If you can seemingly have a 'good psychopath' in your roster, and reveal it later after I've done good things for the city, the PRT would seem much more approachable to every kind of person, including those that feel obligated to go to the Empire or ABB just because of something wrong with their brain." I see the flip in her eyes.
"...Okay. Okay. I assume you're willing to keep up the façade?" My mask goes back on.
"Don't you worry about that! I'll probably change the character a bit to make her less annoying, since that part was only needed to make you think I was a normal teenage girl!" My character laughs, devoid of any emotion. Miss Militia seems uncomfortable.
"Let's get back to your dad, shall we?"
"Oh, don't worry, we just talked a bit about our favorite parahuman heroes. Your daughter is quite enjoyable to be around." My character smiles at the compliment. My father strains a grin of his own.
"Yes, she really is." He has such a good fake smile.
Like daughter, like father, isn't it?
No, that's not true.
He's still sane, unfortunately.