Mettle [Worm AU]

[Sorain]

No, a baseball bat merged with a sword.

Cue the following conversation:

"You cut his arm off. How did you cut his arm off?"

"With this." (proffers the baseball bat)

"But ... but that doesn't have an edge!"

"It depends on how you look at it."

Click to shrink...

"It clearly gave her the edge in that battle."

 

[Harbin]

2.7​

"Hello?" The bright, confident, and cheery voice was not was what I was expecting. Brandish often looked stern in pictures, her plated costume and- "Hello, who is this? Mom's helping prepare dinner right now, one second."

"Uh, this is-" I almost said my name. Thank goodness I hadn't talked to anyone about my name for a while. Fucked up bullying saved me from outing myself. "A new parahuman."

"Oh, so you're a client?" The voice said. I could hear shifting and then feet pounding down steps. "One sec, I'll get you to Mom."

"Wai-" Okay. Well, that didn't really go as planned.

There was a rustling noise as the phone changed hands. "This is Carol Dallon speaking. Thank you, Amy. How can I help you? Our usual business hours are-"

"Uh, sorry I'm a new parahuman but I'm not a client I'm a hopeful hero." I babbled, trying to fit my words in before she cut me off. That was more of the voice I thought I'd hear. There was a certain element of terseness to her voice, but it was tempered by tenderness.

"Oh. How can I help you? Were there extenuating circumstances to your trigger event?" I heard jangling in the background. Silverware, perhaps? "Vicky, no cookies. We're about to have dinner."

"Uh, sorry," Maybe I should call back later. No, shit, it was hard enough making the call. "I was just wondering if you knew where a new, uh, hopeful hero could go for training."

"Hm. Hopeful hero? Vicky. I saw that. Amy, keep watch." More jangling, followed by a 'chk'. "One moment. Let me find it. Firstly, from your voice, I'm guessing you're in your teens? Have you considered the Wards?"

"Yes." I hoped there wasn't too much trembling going on in my voice. "I uh, have an issue with one of their members."

"I'm guessing Shadow Stalker. If you'd like to talk to me in person, I can arrange something." Carol said, flipping through something now. "Basic martial arts training is something I would recommend if your power allows for it. Even some videos online. Lets you learn restraint with your power. Listen, I need to eat dinner with my family. Sorry for cutting this short, but could we resume this tomorrow morning? Ten AM?"

"Uh, sure, that'd be great, sorry for calling at an inconvenient time, I didn't-"

"Don't apologize. Work on writing up a list of your powers, if you wouldn't mind, and I can make better suggestions for you. Have a good evening, miss." It was a clear dismissal, although polite.

"Good night." Well, that had been intense. I slowly looked at the phone, hitting the 'end call' button just in case. "She'll call me again tomorrow? Ten?"

"You did it, Taylor. You're going to have to get used to doing stuff like this if you want to be a hero. Kind of like a job." Dad chuckled as he pondered that one. "Could still probably do work moving things down by the docks if you melded boxes with itty-bitty ones. Not terrible pay."

I smiled and looked down at my hands. "Thanks, Dad."

It felt like I should be doing something, because I felt full of energy, mind racing, but drained at the same time. "Oh, I should write down my powers. Shouldn't I? They wouldn't like, use it against me in some kind of trap, right?"

"I doubt it. I'd think they'd have a little more infamy if they lured aspiring heroes in, just to capture them." He remembered what I'd said about Shadow Stalker, I could see it on his face as he sighed and looked downward. "Look. It'll just be a phone conversation. Get the advice, tell her what you can do. New Wave is supposed to be transparent. That's their entire thing."

"Mm." I went and looked for a notepad and pen. Found the notepad, Dad tossed me the pen.

--​

The next morning, I went out early to run. This time, I'd taken the scarf, hoodie, pants, and left the other armor back at the motel. Pepper spray, wallet, and phone were in pockets. It didn't take long, I just wanted to get aching muscles moving again. Grabbing breakfast on the way back was just a bonus, I assured myself.

Dad woke up when I came back through the door, so I set the meal next to him, guiding his hands to the coffee.

"L'v you Taylor," he murmured, and I hugged him.

"Love you too, Dad. Going to head out to the library early, so I can get back and call Brandish." I stood, and headed toward the shower.

"M'kay." He looked more awake as he sipped at the coffee.

Once I was finished with the shower and dressed, I made sure everything was in place. It felt like I needed more in the way of weaponry, things that would allow me to have a bit more range. Or I could use the scarf, but Brandish was right. I really needed to figure out what lethal force was with that. Hitting someone with something like two hundred to three hundred pounds in a thin scarf form could end up killing them if I wasn't careful. Or even if I was careful.

I also needed a mask. Not the scarf, if I wanted to use that as a sort of weapon. Deciding to think about that on the way to the library, I headed out. "See you later, Dad. Love you."

"Good luck today, Taylor. I might be late today, so get some dinner, okay?" I nodded at his response. It still felt a bit odd to be talking with Dad this much. We'd just kind of- not put any work into talking.

This was better.

Except for the fact that the library was closed. Right, they had a supervillain attack right outside, and they were still cleaning the mess up. Shit.

I wasn't sure how I didn't see this one coming, but I was definitely not walking halfway across town to one of the other libraries. I settled for walking aimlessly and pretending i knew where I was going. Or maybe I went back to the house. It felt odd, coming home. I didn't go inside, just stared at the outside. If Sophia had screwed it up, we'd take pictures, have evidence, and Dad and I could go public.

I stepped onto the creaky step, listening to it as I pushed it up and down for a moment. It brought back memories. Running around the porch with Emma, laughing with her. Sitting here, crying with her. It was amazing and scary, and I sat there. Only this long away from it, and doing this- I sighed. Coming here was a bad idea. We'd be living back here soon enough.

I hoped. The walk back to the motel was a long one. I made it back before the appointed time, so I just waited, sitting there, staring at the list and the phone.

At ten, it rang.

"Hello, this is the hopeful hero. Thank you for calling me back." I tried to speak clearly and politely. It was a pretty big favor she was doing me.

"If things go well, I'll be thanking you. So, let's get down to business. I'd like to help you out because I believe it'll be mutually beneficial. You'll get some experience, be less likely to die, and be grateful to New Wave. What are your powers? If you're thinker or tinker oriented, I'd highly recommend finding a sponsor or joining the Wards, soon." The urgency she put into her voice surprised me.

"Uh, I'm not sure if my power could be qualified as those, but it's sort of close to a thinker-tinker power. Er, hear me out, though. Not in the way you're thinking. I think." I paused, then looked back down at the list. It was easier than actually saying my power out loud. "I can merge objects together, and selectively choose how they apply to the world. The most I've ever done is five, but I can't do that for long. So far, I've used it for armor. There's a kind-of range limit. It gets harder to maintain when it's further away from me."

"Would you say that there is anything else to your powers?" She said, sounding like she was scribbling down things onto paper.

"Yes? Maybe? I've been using it for armor, but it's got a lot of kind of strange applications. I have to touch it to do it, initially. I could potentially use it for-" She cut me off, and I let her speak.

"Okay. So you've got what seems to be a striker power. That means you have to touch it in order for your power to work. You should definitely be focusing on finding someone who can help you out. Maybe try get apprenticed to someone. Look. If you have an issue with the Brockton Bay Wards, you could look elsewhere. Chicago got hit hard, Austin could use some help, although they're shoring up much better." The tapping of something came through the phone speaker.

"I- I don't want to leave Brockton Bay. It's my home." Dad would be hurt if I moved away. If I left, it'd make him feel terrible, like all he'd done here to see the place try come back to life- and I would have abandoned him.

"Alright." She said simply, abandoning that entirely. "Other options. Keep in mind, here that I am stating these as options. I do not recommend joining Faultline's gang, for example, but it is an option. You could keep going like this, working through things and trying to work toward things and improve on your skills. You'd have to do everything yourself, you would have some difficulty if you got injured. No teammates, no help."

"Independent heroes in Brockton Bay don't last long. It's not kind to the inexperienced, and mistakes don't lead to a very happy end. Moving on. You could conceal your power, keep working, going to school, until you're old enough to find other opportunities." It was a pen, tapping against paper. That was the conclusion I'd come to.

"Not an option. Sorry. I'm uh, getting bullied at school. This is something I want to do. To prove them wrong." She hmm'd again after I said that, tapping that pen.

We kept speaking. Brandish was impressed with how I had made my armor, and asked if New Wave could see it sometime, and maybe test it.

She offered a lot of ideas that I hadn't considered. Potentially asking Dragon, who was apparently only an honorary protectorate member? Her suggestions of several martial arts dojos was a good one, but I wasn't sure if I'd be able to pay for them. I wrote them down anyway. She gave me a few numbers to call as well. Crystal Pelham, Victoria Dallon, and Parian. Brandish made sure to give me availability times for Crystal and Victoria, then explained that Parian was a fashion specialist, and if I could get a consultation, I might be able to work on a costume design without going to the PRT.

The talk went on for an hour or two, and by the end of it, my head was abuzz with possibility, my previous ennui forgotten. I thanked her profusely, and she laughed.

"Do me a favor. Please be careful. Don't lose sight of what made you want to become a hero, alright?" Brandish's words were oddly somber, given the friendly tone she'd used before.

"Alright. Thank you again, for all your help. I really appreciate it." I hung up, and flicked through the four pages I'd filled up on the small notepad. I'd call these numbers tomorrow.

There was a knock at the door. Was it Dad? No, he was supposed to come back late.

I looked through the peephole. Sophia stood there, hands in her pockets, smiling at me through it.

"Waited until you were done with your conversation, Hebert. Should be a little more careful, these walls are thin." She shrugged. "Not my problem. We gotta talk."

I could have called the cops. I could have screamed for help, and then called Dad.

Instead, I wrapped the scarf around my face and head, pushing the glasses in. Instead, I pulled my hood up.

Finally, I unchained, then opened the door.

 

[Linkstore]

I'm reminded of the weapons in the last act of the Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel series: Musket-like weapons that fired sharp balls. It ain't physically possible, but science fantasy so fuck you. Also update as I write this. That's cool. Why's the last part bolded?

 

[Harbin]

It's a thing that keeps happening to me whenever I finish a post. The last sentence is always bolded. I'm probably doing something wrong but it's easily fixed

 

[buttplugged]

There is no escape.

 

[dasstan]

There is no escape.

Click to shrink...

Sure there is! Stick something in Sophia and explosively unmerge it.

 

[Unclouded]

Gonna be honest. This Brandish was a lot different than all the other ones I've seen. That and Amy sounding "bright, confident, and cheery" makes me wonder just how far back these butterflies go and whether that means Fleur died or not.

 

[Harbin]

2.8​

"Wow. Your costume looks like shit, Hebert." My witty reply died in my mouth when I couldn't actually say 'can you do better?'

I settled for a simpler response. "What the hell do you want, Sophia?"

The shade swirled around her, grasping at her arm, petting at her head, mouthing syllables into her ear. The lips tore into shapes that no human could manage, twisting, breaking apart and reforming.

"I've had some time to think." She glanced behind me, at the room. "Your Dad in?"

"He knows. I told him everything." My voice was steady. It startled me, a little, the easy confession of this, to someone I hated. Did I hate her? I wasn't sure. I was trying not to care about her, at least.

There were shards, images I could look at, as the shadows roiled around her.

She whistled. "Coward grew some balls."

I didn't like her smile. It felt like I should be doing something, "What do you want, Sophia? It couldn't have been easy to track me down."

"I'm Shadow Stalker." Her admission caught me off guard, even though I knew. Why tell me?

"I know."

A voice, it reminded her of something, and that pissed her off. She wanted him to hurt.

"Figured. Have a problem with Shadow Stalker without ever meeting her. And you always looked at me weird after your shitty flute." There was a surprising lack of venom in her voice. "Always looked away, as soon as you could. Had to know something, a change like that. You break into my locker?"

Sophia withdrew her hands from her pockets, splaying them outward. They were empty. She crossed them, stretching.

"No. I didn't do-"

"Yeah, you're some kind of moral paragon or some shit. Hopeful hero, I heard it all." A bit of frustration had crept into her voice. I wanted to push it, prod it into a reaction, so I could punch her.

Waiting. It felt good, to wait. It meant she had power. She could act, whenever she wanted. They couldn't wait below. They all had to move, and that made them sloppy. Them, and their victim.

"And you're a fucking psycho, so why are we having this conversation, Sophia? Get to the point." I started to close the door. It was odd, to be getting a better grasp of her. I wasn't sure which part of the images I was more disgusted by.

"You hear that, Hebert? It's the sound of no one caring. Your shitty little hero plan isn't going anywhere, and you're going to end up dead. Dad's going to go boo hoo. They're going to laugh." There was the hate I knew and loved.

Why weren't they picking up? She hated needing the help. Needing anyone. Fuck! Fuck. Try again. Had to try again. Why couldn't she just move?

The images and feelings that came with them just made it easier for me to respond. I could hurt her. I could bring pieces and parts of them up, not enough so that she would know I knew, but enough that it irritated her.

It would be justice, in a way. Emma had told her my secrets, my weakest moments. I would just be returning the favor. I breathed in, then let the breath out, calming myself. It would feel so damn satisfying. But I didn't want to feel like them.

They lifted her, delirious. Everything was so slow. Was she dying? She didn't want to die. Fuck. Fucking hell. She wanted something. Didn't know what. Just, leave her alone. Go away. Don't need your help.

"You should stop now, for your own good. I can arrange a meetup with the wards if you're good. Do the rounds, and then go back to where you should be. You'll thank me, in a couple years. They laughed at you, you know." She examined her fingernails. A habit from Emma? Maybe. They? Who was she referring to? "Connect the dots, Hebert. I did. Pathetically easy. Wannabe comes out, runs straight into garbage. Who else could it be but you? Come back to the scene of the crime the next day?"

"Thanks for the advice, Sophia." I shifted position. "Do you have anything else to say?"

She looked at me, appraisingly. I stared back, the scarf covering my face and expression. It was liberating. Perhaps they had laughed at me. Sophia was good at lying. The shade was looking right at me, its mouth separated into segmented pieces that swirled in and away. It smiled. It pissed me off.

"You're pathetic." Oops. The words slipped out as I thought them. Well, whatever. "At least my Dad would be sad if I died."

Sophia rolled her eyes. "Just telling you the truth, Hebert. I know you don't have the spine for it, but try to keep up. You don't have what it takes to be a hero."

"Yeah. It's nice to be pitied by someone so obviously unhinged." I smiled at her, hoping it came across. "Makes me just feel sorrier for you."

I could see the shadows billowing out, cut off by the edge of whatever my ability saw. Sophia's face tensed, and she reached into her duffel bag. I tensed as well, closing the door. Her foot shoved into the crack, so I raised my foot, fully prepared to bring about forty pounds of metal along whatever strength I could to bear. She pulled out the flute, and I froze.

"You know why I have this?" Sophia retracted her foot, tossing the flute end over end. She caught it, then threw it into the air again. This time, she let it fall a bit further before catching it again. "Because you couldn't protect it. If you can't protect a stupid-ass flute, how can you protect-"

Her face would look really nice smeared against the wall.

"-anything else? You're useless, Hebert. That's all you'll ever be." She smirked.

"Give me my mother's flute." I didn't move. If I moved, I would be slamming into her with all the force I could. If I moved, I'd punch her as hard as I could, and I didn't think I could control my power very well right now.

"What'll you do? Call Daddy for help?" She was trying to provoke me. If I hit her, if she didn't die, they'd believe her. No proof otherwise. If i used my powers, it'd be even worse. What was worse was that she was good at it. It wasn't Emma's deeply personal commentary, where the betrayal of trust was what hurt. Every time she used a memory we shared to crush me a little further.

Sophia just homed in, finding those aggravating points and insults and stabbing the knife deep. It probably wouldn't effect me as it did without the flute. But she knew that.

"Is all you do look for fights? Do you have anyone in your life, Sophia? Nobody that loves you?" My voice was very spiteful. "You're just a child lashing out. Stealing, getting into fights. What's the matter, Sophia? Did you miss out on praise? Daddy yell at you?"

I could see her face contort into apoplectic rage. It was beautiful, the amount of anger she managed to fit into that expression. She lunged at me, dropping the flute and reaching into her bag with one swift motion.

I slammed the door in her face, knowing that was no obstacle. That there were things I could have done better.

Sophia looked pretty scary coming through the door. She wasn't called Shadow Stalker because it looked like daisies and buttercups, that was for sure. Her skin wasn't visible, the shadows, the thing around her, was streaming off of her bones and skull. No wonder she scared the shit out of gangsters.

"What, Sophia? You can deal it out, but can't take it?" I kept my position, raising my fists.

"I don't have to take it from a depressing cunt like you." She leveled the crossbow at me. The tip of the bolt looked weird.

"Okay, whatever. Go away, Sophia. Leave now, and I won't have to call the police. You're breaking and entering." With the full armor, I felt confident. I was pretty sure the crossbow couldn't punch through multiple inches of steel and still hit me.

Sophia looked thoughtful. I was creeped out. "Nah. This'll be pretty easy."

She shifted the crossbow down, and shifted into shadows and wisps of black. The crossbow shifted with her, and she fired.

I didn't move fast enough, and something weird happened. I could see it passing through the layers of steel, and it looked odd. Then, the bolt shattered.

It also shattered partway inside my armor. The pain was nauseating. I moved, and it rubbed against the fragments stuck in my leg.

"Wow. Weird." Shadow Stalker said. "Guess I'm a natural counter to you. Thought it'd just go through. This is probably better, though. 'I didn't know her power worked that way.'"

She fired again, shifting, and I lurched out of the way, not fast enough. The edge hit my arm, and I could feel the fragmented pieces of the tip. Not nearly as bad, but it was like comparing splinters to, well, serious injury. Fuck. Fuck.

I reeled to the side, trying to maintain my balance. My leg wasn't doing so hot. I grabbed for my makeshift mask, ripping it off. Thank god I hadn't tied the knot so tight. I whipped out with it, and the next shot passed through it, fragmenting as well. I turned my head away, and pieces ricocheted of my armor.

Could I kill her, if i hit her with it? What would it do to her if she shifted into shadow form and I hit her with this? Fucking fuck.

I didn't know what to do and my leg and arm hurt like a bitch.

 

[Harbin]

Late update, caused by migraine. Sorry folks!

 

[Ack]

Okay, not sure where this is going or what's happening with Sophia and her power.

 

[Biigoh]

Bad power interactions...

Basically the folding effect interacts with Sophia's phasing effect.

 

[Ack]

Bad power interactions...

Basically the folding effect interacts with Sophia's phasing effect.

Click to shrink...

Okay ... just that Sophia's comment "I didn't know her power worked that way." seems weird in that context.

 

[pepperjack]

Okay ... just that Sophia's comment "I didn't know her power worked that way." seems weird in that context.

Click to shrink...

Yeah. If Sophia's using a third-person pronoun while addressing Taylor, that implies a reference to a - well - a third person. If she's talking to herself and using the third person to refer to Taylor, then it's weird that she was using the second person for that purpose just the sentence before.

 

[dasstan]

I'm really hoping she decapitates Sophia. Accidentally.

 

[Kolarthecool]

Okay ... just that Sophia's comment "I didn't know her power worked that way." seems weird in that context.

Click to shrink...

Yeah. If Sophia's using a third-person pronoun while addressing Taylor, that implies a reference to a - well - a third person. If she's talking to herself and using the third person to refer to Taylor, then it's weird that she was using the second person for that purpose just the sentence before.

Click to shrink...

I saw that as her taunting Taylor with the words she's planning to use as an excuse when telling the PRT about it. Just imagine that last part said in a mocking tone.

 

[pepperjack]

I saw that as her taunting Taylor with the words she's planning to use as an excuse when telling the PRT about it. Just imagine that last part said in a mocking tone.

Click to shrink...

If so, it could use an extra set of quotation marks, at least. Even then, I don't feel it's the most intuitive interpretation.

 

[Harbin]

2.9
​

"You want to be a hero?" God damn, Sophia. Shut up. It really hurt, and you whined like a bitch when it happened to you. "You can't even stand."

I growled, but it kind of came out wrong. More like a whimper-gasp of pain as I tried to get to my feet. Holy shit. The movement made the fragments in my thigh- agh, fuck.

My sight was blurry. Both from tears, and from my shortsightedness. Not metaphorical shortsightedness. Glasses were still in the scarf.

"See, this is where you deserve to be. Just turn your power off or whatever, and I'll make it easy." She fired again, and I hurled the scarf at her arm, it fell pathetically short. Shit. I hadn't made it act like- The shotgun fragments of whatever the bolt was made out of flew at me, and I covered my face frantically.

The scarf landed in front of her feet, coming to rest. Just a FUCKING inch more-

Options. No time- "Come on, Hebert. You didn't even have a name. Miss Militia Mark Two." She chuckled, then shifted her aim and fired again. Come on, move. The bolt hit the ground, as I lunged to the side and away from her, pushing my uninjured arm into my pocket.

She carefully around over the scarf, and I let my power unravel around it. My glasses fell out first, then the slab of misshapen metal.

It clattered, and Sophia stepped backward, taking everything in rather than glancing at it, like I'd hoped. "Jeez, almost scared me there."

She pointed the next bolt at my gut and pulled the trigger. It fragmented as it passed through the first layer of protection, and impacted against my armored shirt. Nothing made it through. I pulled my hand out of my hoodie's pocket, and- fuck it had a safety why- move fingers-

The next bolt hit my other leg. There wasn't any pain, for a moment, I just felt the shards digging in. Then I dropped the pepper spray, safety off. Fuck- I threw up, retching to the side. Dad was going to be unhappy about that.

I fumbled for the pepper spray, make sure it's not pointed at me-

Sophia tried to kick it out of my hand. My arm was iron.

She kept her foot on my hand, and while she couldn't remove it, I couldn't lift my hand up to make a clear shot.

I grabbed at her leg with my bad hand, she stepped back, and fired again. I made it fully cloth. It went through, hitting my injured arm. It didn't hurt as much, although it had a kick to it. I could feel something cold seeping in.

I raised my good hand, and sprayed her. Some of it got into her face, I think. I hoped. Yeah, she was screaming. I could hear it above my own sobbing. Good.

Dragging myself back against a wall was harder than I thought it'd be. "Sure- are good." I choked out the words, using the wall as a support to pull myself up. To brace myself. I wasn't sure where I was taking that sentence. I wasn't sure if this would work. I took the pepper spray in both hands. My left side felt numb.

"Fucking fuck, you little bitch." Another shot, in the left leg. It didn't hurt, because it was cloth now. "Don't need to fucking see you to shoot you."

I could hear her coughing. The blood pounding in my ears felt really slow.

It took two tries to get my fingers to clench down on the thing. The insides were chalk. They were, and I snapped it in half, throwing both pieces at her. Then, as they hit her, they weren't.

Her screams felt really good to hear, as I slumped back down. I felt monumentally tired.

I could.. really go for a nap. Right about now.

Yeah. It didn't hurt as much anymore.

Just let things happen.

--​

It was really loud. You weren't supposed to be loud in a library. I shh'd them, but it didn't come out properly. That seemed really funny to me, so I giggled.

Bright lights and beeping. This library was all wrong. I tried to tell them so, but then I felt all sleepy again, so I went back to sleep.

Me and Emma sat there as mom read to us. We laughed, because she would make faces, and do all the voices. Even the deep ones, which she would growl out, before she'd cough a little and sip at her tea. We ate things. Watermelon wedges that were actually mango tarts. Wobbly jello that was chocolate eclairs.

It was a sad dream, because I had to go away. I couldn't move my arms or legs, there was something around them. Dad was standing outside. He wasn't allowed to come in, and he was mad. It was Armsmaster, too. I think. He was all blue. Who else was blue? Shielder? Legend probably wouldn't be sent for me, right? I tried to tell him it was okay, Armsmaster was a hero. He wouldn't let anything bad happen. But then I felt sleepy again, so I closed my eyes.

Sometimes I got moved. I could tell, because I'd kind of wake up a bit. The movement made me feel kind of sick. There would be slightly jerking stops.

--​

Consciousness came slowly and harshly all at once. My head was dizzy, my limbs ached. I couldn't move my arms. I tested my restraints, trying to ease into a sitting position. The bed did it for me, slowly reclining upward. I tried to relax against it, but I was tense. "H-hello?"

"Hello, Parahuman. You have been provided with Templar as a temporary designation. You are currently in Master-Stranger containment. Any responses you make will be recorded, distorted, and interpreted by an AI before being read." The voice was calm. If I wasn't tied to a hospital bed, I might feel a little calmer.

I didn't respond, looking around. I wanted to curl up into a ball. Sophia had tried to kill me, or hurt me badly enough that I couldn't do anything? Or- I wasn't sure what had happened. It was coming back to me in fragments and pieces. Just like she'd shot me with. Heh.

At least she hadn't killed my sense of humor. The cell was small, featureless. There was a toilet, a table, and the bed I was currently bound to. I had to assume that I'd be let out of these confinements, or that something would happen so that I wouldn't be forced to void my bowels in this bed. I mean, I had thrown up. So it wasn't an issue. I was also hungry. My nose was itchy. So was my shoulder. I tried to take care of both by rubbing my nose on my shoulder. Shoulder stayed itchy.

I waited, feeling more scared as time went by. It was hard to tell how much time had passed. I didn't want to speak with whatever computer was running the thing. It could make me look more guilty. Or not talking could make me look more guilty. I just wanted to go home and sleep.

"Templar. How are you?" The voice carried no judgment or anger. Male, slightly distorted through the speakers.

"I'm, uh, fine. When can I go home? Can I get out of these restraints?" I started off slow, then cut myself off as I started babbling.

There was a pause.

"Sorry. You've been accused of being a master by Shadow Stalker. You'll need to stay in those until we get a thinker to take a look at the situation." The voice trailed off.

I started crying. I couldn't help it. Everything felt like it was bearing down against me, like everything was so fucked up, in so many ways.

Another pause.

"I'm sorry. I'll be back later." and with that, I was alone again.

 

[dasstan]

2.9

Click to shrink...

Missing threadmark.

"Sorry. You've been accused of being a master by Shadow Stalker. You'll need to stay in those until we get a thinker to take a look at the situation." The voice trailed off.

Click to shrink...

Ahaha, Sophia is so fucked. Oh my god. She dug her own grave. She attacked Taylor in her home (after invading it previously), she tried to murder her, she got injured in the process and had to go to the PRT for help. The PRT with thinkers and a guy with a lie detector. Aaaahahaaaaha!

My only question is if she's going to run before the truth comes out or not.

 

[Ack]

Why did she let the arrows hurt her?

And seriously, "She's a Master" is a really short-term defense.

Especially given that Taylor has zero history of Mastering anyone, and can prove her real powerset.

I don't know if Armsmaster has the lie detector up and running at this point, but I think SS is on really thin ice, given that even if her claim is true, she just invaded a cape's home and attacked her, breaking the unwritten rules so wide open you could drive a truck through the hole.

"And why were you living in a motel, Miss Hebert?"

"Because someone who can walk through walls decoyed me to a remote location so she could invade my home and wreck my stuff. Ask Greg Veder."

 

[Athelmar]

Why did she let the arrows hurt her?

Click to shrink...

If I'm reading it correctly, Taylor let the arrows hit her rather than fragment inside the armour so the wounds would not be as bad. One smallish crossbow bolt in her arm, rather than lots of really small fragments all over her torso, arms etc.

 

[dasstan]

And seriously, "She's a Master" is a really short-term defense.

Click to shrink...

I'm pretty sure Sophia's was panicking at that point. She expected Taylor to go down easy, and instead of a cake walk, she ended up getting severely injured.

I think Sophia is going to try and... bolt.

 

[DinoHank]

My standard assumption in situations like this is that Coil is going to help Sophia escape, but he's not around to mess thinks up. Sophia might actually have to face the consequences of her actions. What happens next will reveal quite a bit about the people in charge of the PRT in this fic. Looking forward to it!

 

[Harbin]

2.10​

I counted the minutes. It wasn't like I had much else to do. That guy came back to talk, and he told me I could have my restraints off now, and sorry it took so long.

They slid back as he finished his sentence, letting me slowly rub at my wrists and ank- guh, stretching that far hurt.

Then he surprised me with a question. "Do you know where Shadow Stalker is?"

"No? Why, what's happening?" There was no response. I brought my knees up to my chest, clutching them to me. Waiting was horrible. It was worse not knowing what was going on.

I considered doing something, trying to break out, maybe? Were they going to believe Sophia over me every step of the way? Where had she gone? What had happened after I'd passed out?

There had been a lot of screaming. I knew that.

--​

"Hello." It was a calm, measured voice. Dry, pleasant. "I'm a thinker that is sometimes used to figure out what's going on in these situations. I'd like to speak with you to try find out what's going on. Do you think you'd be willing to do that with me?"

He somehow made that statement not sound condescending, or confrontational.

"Please." I begged, "I just want to go home."

"We're working on that. I promise. I want you to raise your hands up, then turn them back and forth for me, if you wouldn't mind."

I asked myself why, but complied.

Couldn't avoid a wince. It stung, and ached.

"Thank you. I'm sorry for making you do that. Would you mind telling me your power?" I complied. I didn't say it all. I didn't want to let that detail go.

He hmm'd. "Well. Your father is a very lucky man to have you as his daughter. You've put up with a lot, and he's put up with a lot."

"Thank you? I think?" I wasn't really sure where this was going.

"Do you hate your father?" The question caught me by surprise, and I was left sputtering. "Nevermind. I apologize."

What was going on?

"Do you know where Shadow Stalker is now?" All the questions were asked precisely the same way, gently, kindly.

"I- I don't know. I wish I did. Maybe things could get mopped up if you did know? She tried to kill me." I was crying again. Shit. I tried to wipe away the tears. "She shot me with her crossbow- and she kept shooting me and-"

"It's okay to cry. You've been through quite a lot. It's just an honest expression of yourself. Don't worry about it." The voice paused. "You have something you're keeping from me. Related to Shadow Stalker?"

"No!" I lowered my voice. "No. I wanted her to leave me alone, she broke in after I shut the door-"

"Did you master Shadow Stalker?" There was an odd intensity to the kindness, now.

"I didn't! I barely even know what that means, all I can do is push objects together, and it's not even that great and I don't know why she kept bullying me an-" I stopped, my shoulders sagging. They wouldn't believe me. Shadow Stalker was a Ward, a hero. Taylor Hebert, hopeful nobody.

"Hm. Well you'll have to be held here for a grace period of about twelve more hours. Is there anything I can get you? I believe that Shadow Stalker got herself into this mess. It would be interesting to see how she gets out." The voice paused. "Good work surviving. If you had died, there would be a lot more ambiguity and a lot less to work with."

"T-thanks?" I didn't feel hungry anymore.

"I'll get you a shake. You really should get some fluids in you. You'll be much better off. I'll be requesting Panacea for you. I understand you've had some contact with the Dallons?" His voice left off on that hanging note.

"Yeah. I wanted to know how I could be a better hero with my ability. And stay safe. She gave me suggestions." I wiped more tears away.

"Good people. Good luck with your heroing career. I'll be going, now." Silence, after that.

I waited. A compartment appeared, sliding outward. A shake, along with a burger and fries.

Okay, maybe I was a little hungry.

--​

"I'd like to apologize. I received a call from Shadow Stalker. She was in severe pain, claiming that she had been mastered by you. I'm ashamed to say that I was also not aware of her bullying campaign against your civilian identity. I should have been." It was back to that first voice that I'd heard.

"I'm Armsmaster. I'm responsible for the Wards program, along with Director Emily Piggot. It was remiss of me. There were signs I could have noticed, that seem glaringly obvious now. You've been cleared, but you'll need to remain here for about two more hours." Armsmaster stopped speaking, waiting for a response.

"Thank you. Can I speak with my Dad?" It was over. It was finally over. They hadn't known about Shadow Stalker. Or at least not to the extent that I had.

"He's being processed out of Master-Stranger containment at the moment. He'll be out shortly. Is there anything you'd like me to tell him?" The warm, friendly voice was comforting.

"Tell him that I love him. Please. Thank you." I fell back against the hospital-bed-chair. I didn't know quite how to feel. In a few hours, my world had been turned upside down, then thrown into the blender.

"I will. I'll send someone back with him when I can." And then he was gone.

It felt odd, being this isolated. I kept waiting for that ominous other shoe to drop. Or to just hear someone walking by. But, I was exhausted. From my limbs, to my mind, so I took another nap.

--​

"Hey." There was no distortion to the voice this time. I recognized the voice. It was the girl who'd picked up when I'd called the Dallon household. Oh. Right. Amy was Panacea. I opened my eyes, to find her beside me, holding my hand. Her white costume with golden trim looked very nice. "You've got some pretty distributed injuries here. Fragmented bits of what are carbon fiber, I think. They weren't able to get out everything. There's also enough of whatever Armsmaster fills those tranq darts with to put down a, well, something big. It breaks down pretty quickly, but could cause some kidney problems. Blood loss I can't do too much about."

"Some proclivities toward cancer, shortsightedness. Nerve damage in your arm. I'll fix all of it, and the PRT'll foot the bill." She smiled at me. "Serves them right. You seemed pretty nice on the phone. Did you master Shadow Stalker?"

"No!" I groaned.

"Alright. I believe you. Also, I can see your heartrate and brain and such, so it makes it pretty easy to tell. Listen, I gotta go help out Vicky and stuff, so do you want to be healed?" She smirked at me.

"Yes? You make it sound like a bad thing?" She laughed at my unsure response.

"Alright. Here we go. Don't say I didn't warn you." I tensed, my eyes widening in fear. "Okay. Done."

I could feel some things against my legs and hands. "What-"

"Yeah, real scary, right? Anyway. You go and meet up with Mom some time, 'kay? She was really upset when she heard about this." Panacea turned, and started walking away after patting my hand.

"Thanks!" I called after her. She waved in response. I was still confused, but I guess she didn't fix that.

 

[GladiusLucix]

Oh, God, Amy is happy, and on good terms with Carol.

The world is doomed.

 

[Biigoh]

What has you done?!?!?

 

[dasstan]

"Alright. Here we go. Don't say I didn't warn you." I tensed, my eyes widening in fear. "Okay. Done."

I could feel some things against my legs and hands. "What-"

"Yeah, real scary, right? Anyway. You go and meet up with Mom some time, 'kay? She was really upset when she heard about this." Panacea turned, and started walking away after patting my hand.

"Thanks!" I called after her. She waved in response. I was still confused, but I guess she didn't fix that.

Click to shrink...

Going by this interaction and how you've happily swapped powersets before, I think Vicky shard swapped with someone. Which explains why Vicky is an option on the poll.

*quietly changes vote.* Sorry, Cody.

 

[Xilph]

Or they just didn't get the master part of their powerset for whatever reason, or Panacea's double bullshit and her power not only protects against disease but also some master effects.

 

[dasstan]

Or they just didn't get the master part of their powerset for whatever reason, or Panacea's double bullshit and her power not only protects against disease but also some master effects.

Click to shrink...

Vote Vicky 2016 and let's find out!

 

[Harbin]

Cody gets Simurgh bombed even when he's in a poll.

 

[Subrosian Smithy]

I'm reminded of the weapons in the last act of the Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel series: Musket-like weapons that fired sharp balls. It ain't physically possible, but science fantasy so fuck you. Also update as I write this. That's cool. Why's the last part bolded?

Click to shrink...

Holy fuck, it's been a while since i thought of those books. Good YA fantasy.