Danny triggers with group hug/big brother powers and joins the Protectorate. He does not tell...
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Miss Understanding Fixes Her Life (Worm Slight AU, Slight Alt-Power)
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Ignorance 1.1 - Angry Dragons, Angry Dads, Angry Daughters
Dstarr17
Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?
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- Jan 12, 2024
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Danny triggers with group hug/big brother powers and joins the Protectorate. He does not tell Taylor.
Danny begins dating Hannah. He cheerfully tells Taylor.
Taylor triggers with bug control but altered to have much higher range and much less multi-tasking capabilities. She does not tell Danny.
Taylor is upset with Danny. She loudly tells Danny.
Misunderstandings ensue.
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I'm trying to write this story to fall somewhere between a slice-of-life, drama, and comedy, with some violence mixed in because it is Worm after all. As for canon, it diverges halfway through chapter 1. There are references to canon events later but few, if any, occur from the narrator's point of view.
Taylor is far less depressed and far more angry.
This is my first-time writing fanfiction and posting for others to read. I'm happy to take constructive criticism.
Reposted on SB and SV
I don't own Worm, I'm not making money from this.
Enjoy!
—-
*TAYLOR – SUNDAY NIGHT
"You know," I thought to myself as my horrifying pile of bugs swarmed over Lung and his crew, "This is much better than I thought it would be". My first thought on developing my powers was to use my bugs as support, getting into the fray and beating people up under the cover of a nightmarish tidal wave. Then I realized how monumentally stupid of an idea that was. So, I nixed the beating people up part and just kept the tidal wave. I was currently four blocks away, hiding in an alley behind a dumpster, staying as silent as possible. Not that anyone was about to start something if they found me. Lung's roars were impossible to miss, along with the great gouts of flame rising above the buildings. Anyone with any sense in their heads would be running away at full speed right now.
While meeting Lung was always a possibility, running across him and the ABB one my first night out as a cape was ridiculously bad luck. I'd prepared as well as I could for what I'd assumed would be a night of stopping burglaries and muggings. My "costume" was unobtrusive. A dark green hoodie and blue denim jeans, beanie, scarf pulled up over my face. Nothing special, nothing fancy. My goal was to blend in. Underneath I wore my skintight spider-silk bodysuit, on the off chance that someone attacked me, plus I had zip ties, pepper spray, climbing chalk, and a large pocketknife. I'd hoped to never need any of these supplies but being ready for anything seemed prudent.
As such, I also carried a cell phone in my pocket. It was the cheapest flip phone I could find and had a generic, prepaid plan that wasn't tied to me whatsoever. Dad and I had fought more recently over the stupid things, him being uncomfortable with me having a phone, me wanting to get one regardless. As such, he had no clue about the one I currently carried.
As soon as I'd felt Lung and company through my subtle swarm of gnats, I got myself close enough to hear. I'd rather not be the kind of hero who brutalizes people without good reason, so I wanted proof of something nefarious. And then Lung had started talking about shooting kids.
Nefarious plans, check.
If I was braver, or maybe just more experienced, I would have tried to get a recording, but feeling deficient in both, I instead retreated to a safe distance. I texted the PRT's emergency number on my burner phone to let them know that I had seen Lung was around and talking about killing kids, then I put the phone away and spider piled the would-be child murderers with every skittering insect I could find.
For the regular guys, regular bug bites and stings were good enough. They got the message and ran, or else were buried under a squirming carpet of insects. For Lung though, his regeneration would nullify pretty much all venom over time, so he got the worst. Black widows down his shirt, brown recluses on his privates (gross), wasps in the eyes, bees down his throat. You name it, I did it. No pulling punches with a literal dragon.
I checked my watch. It had only been minutes since I texted the PRT, and Lung was getting big. He would grow in response to threats, and I didn't need him getting huge; I only needed to distract him until the PRT could show up and chase him away. Besides, his crew wasn't doing anything tonight other than applying liberal amounts of anti-itch cream. Lung had been letting off periodic explosions, significantly reducing the size of my weaponized pile of chittering chitin. I pinged the remainder to keep biting for a moment while I looked around.
Realizing I'd gotten tunnel vision on Lung, extended my control field to several blocks wide, losing specific information from the bugs still on Lung but gaining a broader view of the neighborhood. Something odd caught my metaphorical eye.
Using gnats again and shrinking my control field to a 100-foot sphere two streets over from Lung, it felt like four people and three… dinosaurs stood waiting. Giant, four-legged monsters with bone sticking out at weird angles and copious amounts of drool dripping from their mouths. However, the people seemed content to listen from the sidelines, only moving to keep a distance from Lung and not engaging, so I turned my attention back to Brockton Bay's premier super villain, moving the control field once again, making sure the bugs I'd left with him hadn't screwed something up while I wasn't paying attention.
Not for the first time, I cursed my power's apparently ditzy nature, keeping me from focusing on everything at once. My functional range was enormous, and within that I had a control range that I could shrink and move. However, I literally traded range for information and control. At maximum range, when my functional range and control range were equal, I could be aware of the existence of any bug within one mile. Unfortunately, their existence was the only information I received, that and their general direction relative to me. It made it easier to find ant nests, beehives, and unusually clean houses, but otherwise it provided no useful information, and zero fine control.
My power also told me that bugs were everywhere and terrifying. My power helpfully informed me that at my max range/min control, there were approximately 1.2 trillion bugs going about their lives. Sometimes my functional range would grow for a few hours, the radius extending by miles, exponentially increasing the already horrifying number. I still wasn't sure what caused the expansion.
If I reduced my control range, I began receiving more information. Location, species, health, senses. Eventually, if my range was small enough, I would begin gaining control of the bugs, and if I reduced my range to the minimum amount of a 10-foot diameter sphere, then I had perfect control, each individual bug feeling like an extension of myself, controlling them as easily as I control my own limbs.
10 feet wasn't much, but my saving grace was that I could establish my control range anywhere within my functional range. I could be standing a mile away and be controlling a swarm of flies perfectly, assuming I kept them within the 10-foot sphere of my perfect influence. I could also "ping" my swarm to follow commands while I wasn't paying attention like "fly about randomly" or "black widows please rally at this cool spider down the street" or "OH MY GOD KEEP BITING THE GIANT DRAGON MAN."
Maybe I was being ungrateful, but bug control wasn't the Alexandria package my childhood-self had hoped for, so I felt justified in my griping.
Luckily, everything was still ok, so I pinged my bugs to stop biting and scatter to the alleys and side streets, retaining and controlling a few near Lung just in case. Without a valid target to fight, Lung stumbled about, clutching between his legs and, looking for an enemy. I had to stifle a giggle as I observed his frustration, roaring and looking down nearby alleys, well away from me. He even jumped to look over the tops of the houses, like a kid at a bookstore looking over the shelves for their parents. When none were found, the fires started going out and Lung started shrinking. I smiled wickedly to myself, holding back a cackle.
Once Lung was back to his normal size, still big, but big for a dude, not big for a dragon, I put a few wasps and bees on the back of his shirt, getting ready. Someone from the PRT would be arriving soon and I could help distract the big guy. The villain continued looking around, until the loud revving of a motorcycle was heard in the distance. Lung immediately turned towards it, and I felt his muscles swelling, my bugs sensing a rise in temperature once again.
I gave it a few seconds longer, trying to time my attack with the arrival of the motorcycle, then flew bees and wasps into Lung's eyes and ears and had them start stinging. Three stings in one eye and two in the other, plus having literal bugs in his ear canals did wonders for distracting the man. Lung immediately bellowed in pain, smashing his palms into his eyes, squashing the bugs, and inadvertently driving the embedded and now detached bee stingers further into his eyeballs.
I felt the motorcycle come around the corner and beeline toward Lung, who was roaring, his voice only just beginning to change back to draconic. The man on the motorcycle, I thought it was Armsmaster, did something with a… spear?
Definitely Armsmaster,
An impact occurred near Lung's jugular. The now-not-a-dragon man piped down and made a few steps towards the hero, swooned like a southern belle, then collapsed onto the road. Jumping off the bike, Armsmaster approached the fallen enemy, spear in hand, scanning left and right for who had distracted Lung.
Did? Did I just help take down Lung?
I briefly entertained the possibility of going and introducing myself in person after a feat like that.
I quickly decided that idea was a no-go for now. Even with the change in circumstance, I didn't want to join the Wards now and Armsmaster might bring me in by force if I revealed myself, so back to my original plan.
Focusing like I had practiced, I had a swarm of bugs congregate in an alley, packing as many into a human shape as I could. It wasn't great; more like a constantly shifting mound with the vague shape of a person, but it was enough. I'd even added an Omega sign prominently on the chest, made from more colorful bugs that stood out. I'd read about monstrous capes and how they always had that tattooed somewhere on their body, so I'd decided to mimic them, further separating myself from my hero persona.
I had the bug clone "walk" (see: slither like an eldritch nightmare) out of the alley, then stop and look toward Armsmaster. He pointed his spear and yelled something I couldn't understand, bug ears being very different from human ears, so I just had the swarm stay silent. The hero shouted again; I assume something about identifying myself. Smiling, I instead had the swarm tilt it's "head" to the side, then dissipate, the bugs flying and crawling away, the main body dissolving. If I was going to be the silent hero, that meant the heroes shouldn't have too much information on me either.
Armsmaster grimaced, then lifted a hand to his helmet and spoke, my bugs hearing the sound like a series of deep bass notes, as if Christopher Nolan had tripped in an organ factory. More sounds came from his helmet, and he turned to Lung, pulling out a kind of cage to put the villain in, loaded his captive onto the motorcycle, then checking on the other downed gang members.
The group of dinosaur wranglers was on the move, leaving my range, so I put them out of mind, reminding myself to check PHO for four capes who fought with monsters. Satisfied with my night, I stood up, stretched my back until it popped, and started my walk back home with a confidence in my step I hadn't felt in a very long time.
*ARMSMASTER – SUNDAY NIGHT
Armsmaster attached the cage holding Lung to his bike, locking it in place, then gave the villain another dose of sedative to ensure he stayed out until they could reach the Rig. Turning, he checked the fallen gang members, being sure to catch video and pictures. It wasn't a pretty sight. Each man was covered in welts and bites, far more than was natural. The Case 53 he'd seen earlier was violent. He heard labored gasping and approached one of the men, bending down to check the man's vitals, then jerked upright with a curse. The man was barely breathing, his throat almost swollen closed. He ran back to his bike, pulling open a compartment to grab an Epi-Pen. Looking at the other men on the ground, he pulled out all four he carried, injected the first into the man he'd examined, and started triage.
Triggering his radio, he called it in, "Console, I need ambulances, at least five. Several subjects in anaphylactic shock, send epinephrine." He once again looked at the dozen men on the ground, at a loss for how to help if more than four were dying. "We have a new cape in town."
*TAYLOR – SUNDAY NIGHT
As I made my way down the dark streets towards home, I had my bugs scouting every place someone might hide. Down the dirty alleys, behind dumpsters, watching from windows, I constantly moved my shrunken control field until I was sure I found them all. I took great pains to avoid everyone who could see me, backtracking a few times or taking side streets to avoid cameras. I didn't want to risk being attacked and needing my bugs to defend me, narrowing down possible areas where any new bug-themed capes might live.
My trip home took an hour longer than necessary, but I was confident I hadn't been seen once. I'd even ended up detouring and approaching my house from the south, the opposite direction from where I'd fought Lung in the northern docks. When I'd originally left several hours ago, I'd taken a different route away from my house going west, then turned sharply and travelled northeast once I was a fair distance away, just to further muddy any trails. Part of me knew I was being paranoid, but it seemed prudent for now.
Getting to my house, I snuck around to the back door, keeping a firm grip on my key ring so it didn't jingle as I unlocked the door. Pushing inward, I listened for any telltale creaks from the hinges, and let out a relieved sigh that my oiling of them yesterday worked. Hopefully dad wouldn't notice, but I'd rather he found out I'd oiled the hinge and was maybeplanning on sneaking out rather than him catching me in the process of sneaking out. The less dad worried about me the better. Oversight would only crimp my hero work.
My bugs could feel dad upstairs, lying in bed. Once inside, I immediately took my shoes off, pulled the scarf down from my face, and padded silently through the house and up the stairs. Getting to my bedroom, I quickly opened the door only for it to let out the world's loudest SQUEEEEEEAK.
DAMMIT! I'd oiled the back door hinges but forgot my room. A thumping sounded from dad's room and within two seconds the light flicked on, revealing a fully dressed dad glaring at me.
"Oh, hey dad!" I tried to act normal, keenly aware I was fully dressed to go out in the cold night, "You're up late- "
"Taylor, where have you been?!" dad demanded in a controlled tone. I could see a vein throbbing in his temple, worry going to war with anger across his face.
I controlled my breathing, keeping a calm face, "I couldn't sleep, so I took a walk."
Dammit. Dad had been, for lack of a better term, a zombie since mom died. Immediately after, he'd drank his misery away, forgetting he had in a daughter so he could better reminisce on his deceased wife, my mom. I'd lost two parents in that car accident. Alan and Zoe Barnes had taken me in, Emma being my lifeline as I dealt with my grief. Before Emma had turned into a psychotic bitch. Back when she'd been my best friend.
If I'd snuck out during that period, dad wouldn't have found out until the police called to inform him they'd found my body. Only after Alan had threatened dad with CPS was it that dad shook himself out of his awful depression and instead settled into regular depression. At least he hadn't been drinking since then. He'd thrown himself into his work, again ignoring that I was not, in fact, a houseplant. We had food to eat, a house to live in, utilities were paid for.
But he just stopped reaching out. The lamp that I sought for in the darkness dimmed, and I stopped searching.
For a year we'd had an uneasy silence pervading the house, both of us not speaking to the other, asking trite questions on the rare occasion we had dinner together, nothing of substance, answers easily passed over.
Then around Thanksgiving he'd met Hannah. She apparently worked for the city as a consultant. Dad had started pulling it together. Trying to take more interest in my life. Working out and getting in shape. We talked a little more, but not a lot more; dad was content to give me the space and I had long ago stopped asking for closeness.
He hadn't told me about Hannah right away. Instead, he'd waited until the end of the Christmas break. Then he'd cheerfully informed me that "he'd met a nice lady and they were dating" and "she makes me want to be better" and "I know I've failed as a parent since mom passed away but I'm going to change that."
It galled me that his daughter's suffering wasn't enough to get him to change, but some bitch was. My resentment toward him became a cancer. To his knowledge everything had been just fine other than me being withdrawn. I hadn't met Hannah yet, and dad was smart enough not to bring her up often.
Only a week later the locker happened and I'd come out the other side with powers. Something else was going on behind the scenes though because it got cleared up almost immediately. A lot of people were on the line for getting sued. We'd gotten enough settlements to pay the medical bills plus enough to pay for an Ivy League college education, Blackwell was fired, Emma, Madison, and Sophia got in trouble then vanished from my life. Alan Barnes had gone to bat for his daughter, looking at me with all the loathing of a father defending his daughter from a vicious predator.
Since that time dad had apparently decided to make good on his promise to be a fucking parent again, going from as emotionally available as a crab to as emotionally available as an overbearing crab. A few half-hearted apologies and we were supposed to pick up where we left off years ago? Some bitch thought he should be a parent again so magically he was? I was just supposed to open up my entire life to him and let him walk on in? Fuck. That.
"Taylor? Where. Have. You. Been? Really." he asked with furrowed brow.
Ok Taylor, you've got this. Deescalate. Make him trust you. Help him realize he doesn't need to worry about you. Happy dad means no one hovering over my shoulder. You got this.
"Out. For. A. Walk." I growled, crossing my arms.
God dammit.
I realized I'd assumed the same posture as him, arms folded, leaning against the wall, head slightly tilted. I got my looks from mom, but my dad gave me his height, his temper, and mix of his mannerisms.
"Taylor, for God's sake," he started, the anger ebbing and the anxiety increasing, "It's Brockton Bay! You don't go for walks in the middle of the night! There's a gang of literal human traffickers! What if you'd run into them?!"
"Oh, I'm SO GLAD you care about that now!" I spat, that confidence I felt from taking down Lung morphing into anger. I was a cape; I was going to be a hero. I'd been fending for myself for years! Why was it NOW of all times that dad had to remember he had a family?!
I closed my eyes and took a breath through my nose, opening them to see dad's painful look of guilt. He knew exactly what'd I'd meant. No need to monologue to my own father about how shit he'd treated me for the past few years. A few months of slightly more attention was a poor offering to balance the scales. Especially when I knew the cause and it wasn't me.
Taking another breath, I calmed myself. If he trusts me, he gives me less oversight and I get to be a hero the way I want to be. "I went for a walk, I stayed nearby, I avoided anyone else. I was perfectly safe. I took my pepper spray."
Dad took in my forced calm and struggled until he had calmed himself also, then asked, "Why?"
And there went my calm façade.
"Because I just wanted to, ok?!" Then I turned around and went into my room, closing the door in his face. Putting my back to the door, the bugs I'd placed on him let me feel him approach the door, tentatively raising his hand to knock, before dropping it back down. He stiffly made his way back into his room, got undressed, and got into bed. But rather than go to sleep, he instead picked up the phone next to the bed. Great, calling Hannah again. She must have kept weird hours for him to be calling during the deepest part of night.
I blinked tears out of my eyes, unsure if I was angry, frustrated, or grieving.
Why now?
I'd been through years of hell.
Dad never noticed.
I lost mom and collapsed.
Dad never noticed.
I lost my best friend.
Dad never noticed.
Every facet of my life was wrecked.
Dad. Never. Noticed.
Sure, he'd been doing better over the Christmas break, but he was performing for Hannah, not caring about me. In the end, it took him getting laid and the locker, a murder attempt against his own daughter, to get him to do something. It stung to see where I had been ranked in his priorities for all these years. Below his own grief. Below the union. Below Hannah.
He didn't care about me before. He had NO FUCKING RIGHT to suddenly demand I accept his care now.
I felt my throat clench, squashing whatever sound that was trying to make itself heard, and wiped the tears now dripping down my cheeks. Collecting myself, I changed out of my costume and went to bed.
Danny begins dating Hannah. He cheerfully tells Taylor.
Taylor triggers with bug control but altered to have much higher range and much less multi-tasking capabilities. She does not tell Danny.
Taylor is upset with Danny. She loudly tells Danny.
Misunderstandings ensue.
----
I'm trying to write this story to fall somewhere between a slice-of-life, drama, and comedy, with some violence mixed in because it is Worm after all. As for canon, it diverges halfway through chapter 1. There are references to canon events later but few, if any, occur from the narrator's point of view.
Taylor is far less depressed and far more angry.
This is my first-time writing fanfiction and posting for others to read. I'm happy to take constructive criticism.
Reposted on SB and SV
I don't own Worm, I'm not making money from this.
Enjoy!
—-
*TAYLOR – SUNDAY NIGHT
"You know," I thought to myself as my horrifying pile of bugs swarmed over Lung and his crew, "This is much better than I thought it would be". My first thought on developing my powers was to use my bugs as support, getting into the fray and beating people up under the cover of a nightmarish tidal wave. Then I realized how monumentally stupid of an idea that was. So, I nixed the beating people up part and just kept the tidal wave. I was currently four blocks away, hiding in an alley behind a dumpster, staying as silent as possible. Not that anyone was about to start something if they found me. Lung's roars were impossible to miss, along with the great gouts of flame rising above the buildings. Anyone with any sense in their heads would be running away at full speed right now.
While meeting Lung was always a possibility, running across him and the ABB one my first night out as a cape was ridiculously bad luck. I'd prepared as well as I could for what I'd assumed would be a night of stopping burglaries and muggings. My "costume" was unobtrusive. A dark green hoodie and blue denim jeans, beanie, scarf pulled up over my face. Nothing special, nothing fancy. My goal was to blend in. Underneath I wore my skintight spider-silk bodysuit, on the off chance that someone attacked me, plus I had zip ties, pepper spray, climbing chalk, and a large pocketknife. I'd hoped to never need any of these supplies but being ready for anything seemed prudent.
As such, I also carried a cell phone in my pocket. It was the cheapest flip phone I could find and had a generic, prepaid plan that wasn't tied to me whatsoever. Dad and I had fought more recently over the stupid things, him being uncomfortable with me having a phone, me wanting to get one regardless. As such, he had no clue about the one I currently carried.
As soon as I'd felt Lung and company through my subtle swarm of gnats, I got myself close enough to hear. I'd rather not be the kind of hero who brutalizes people without good reason, so I wanted proof of something nefarious. And then Lung had started talking about shooting kids.
Nefarious plans, check.
If I was braver, or maybe just more experienced, I would have tried to get a recording, but feeling deficient in both, I instead retreated to a safe distance. I texted the PRT's emergency number on my burner phone to let them know that I had seen Lung was around and talking about killing kids, then I put the phone away and spider piled the would-be child murderers with every skittering insect I could find.
For the regular guys, regular bug bites and stings were good enough. They got the message and ran, or else were buried under a squirming carpet of insects. For Lung though, his regeneration would nullify pretty much all venom over time, so he got the worst. Black widows down his shirt, brown recluses on his privates (gross), wasps in the eyes, bees down his throat. You name it, I did it. No pulling punches with a literal dragon.
I checked my watch. It had only been minutes since I texted the PRT, and Lung was getting big. He would grow in response to threats, and I didn't need him getting huge; I only needed to distract him until the PRT could show up and chase him away. Besides, his crew wasn't doing anything tonight other than applying liberal amounts of anti-itch cream. Lung had been letting off periodic explosions, significantly reducing the size of my weaponized pile of chittering chitin. I pinged the remainder to keep biting for a moment while I looked around.
Realizing I'd gotten tunnel vision on Lung, extended my control field to several blocks wide, losing specific information from the bugs still on Lung but gaining a broader view of the neighborhood. Something odd caught my metaphorical eye.
Using gnats again and shrinking my control field to a 100-foot sphere two streets over from Lung, it felt like four people and three… dinosaurs stood waiting. Giant, four-legged monsters with bone sticking out at weird angles and copious amounts of drool dripping from their mouths. However, the people seemed content to listen from the sidelines, only moving to keep a distance from Lung and not engaging, so I turned my attention back to Brockton Bay's premier super villain, moving the control field once again, making sure the bugs I'd left with him hadn't screwed something up while I wasn't paying attention.
Not for the first time, I cursed my power's apparently ditzy nature, keeping me from focusing on everything at once. My functional range was enormous, and within that I had a control range that I could shrink and move. However, I literally traded range for information and control. At maximum range, when my functional range and control range were equal, I could be aware of the existence of any bug within one mile. Unfortunately, their existence was the only information I received, that and their general direction relative to me. It made it easier to find ant nests, beehives, and unusually clean houses, but otherwise it provided no useful information, and zero fine control.
My power also told me that bugs were everywhere and terrifying. My power helpfully informed me that at my max range/min control, there were approximately 1.2 trillion bugs going about their lives. Sometimes my functional range would grow for a few hours, the radius extending by miles, exponentially increasing the already horrifying number. I still wasn't sure what caused the expansion.
If I reduced my control range, I began receiving more information. Location, species, health, senses. Eventually, if my range was small enough, I would begin gaining control of the bugs, and if I reduced my range to the minimum amount of a 10-foot diameter sphere, then I had perfect control, each individual bug feeling like an extension of myself, controlling them as easily as I control my own limbs.
10 feet wasn't much, but my saving grace was that I could establish my control range anywhere within my functional range. I could be standing a mile away and be controlling a swarm of flies perfectly, assuming I kept them within the 10-foot sphere of my perfect influence. I could also "ping" my swarm to follow commands while I wasn't paying attention like "fly about randomly" or "black widows please rally at this cool spider down the street" or "OH MY GOD KEEP BITING THE GIANT DRAGON MAN."
Maybe I was being ungrateful, but bug control wasn't the Alexandria package my childhood-self had hoped for, so I felt justified in my griping.
Luckily, everything was still ok, so I pinged my bugs to stop biting and scatter to the alleys and side streets, retaining and controlling a few near Lung just in case. Without a valid target to fight, Lung stumbled about, clutching between his legs and, looking for an enemy. I had to stifle a giggle as I observed his frustration, roaring and looking down nearby alleys, well away from me. He even jumped to look over the tops of the houses, like a kid at a bookstore looking over the shelves for their parents. When none were found, the fires started going out and Lung started shrinking. I smiled wickedly to myself, holding back a cackle.
Once Lung was back to his normal size, still big, but big for a dude, not big for a dragon, I put a few wasps and bees on the back of his shirt, getting ready. Someone from the PRT would be arriving soon and I could help distract the big guy. The villain continued looking around, until the loud revving of a motorcycle was heard in the distance. Lung immediately turned towards it, and I felt his muscles swelling, my bugs sensing a rise in temperature once again.
I gave it a few seconds longer, trying to time my attack with the arrival of the motorcycle, then flew bees and wasps into Lung's eyes and ears and had them start stinging. Three stings in one eye and two in the other, plus having literal bugs in his ear canals did wonders for distracting the man. Lung immediately bellowed in pain, smashing his palms into his eyes, squashing the bugs, and inadvertently driving the embedded and now detached bee stingers further into his eyeballs.
I felt the motorcycle come around the corner and beeline toward Lung, who was roaring, his voice only just beginning to change back to draconic. The man on the motorcycle, I thought it was Armsmaster, did something with a… spear?
Definitely Armsmaster,
An impact occurred near Lung's jugular. The now-not-a-dragon man piped down and made a few steps towards the hero, swooned like a southern belle, then collapsed onto the road. Jumping off the bike, Armsmaster approached the fallen enemy, spear in hand, scanning left and right for who had distracted Lung.
Did? Did I just help take down Lung?
I briefly entertained the possibility of going and introducing myself in person after a feat like that.
I quickly decided that idea was a no-go for now. Even with the change in circumstance, I didn't want to join the Wards now and Armsmaster might bring me in by force if I revealed myself, so back to my original plan.
Focusing like I had practiced, I had a swarm of bugs congregate in an alley, packing as many into a human shape as I could. It wasn't great; more like a constantly shifting mound with the vague shape of a person, but it was enough. I'd even added an Omega sign prominently on the chest, made from more colorful bugs that stood out. I'd read about monstrous capes and how they always had that tattooed somewhere on their body, so I'd decided to mimic them, further separating myself from my hero persona.
I had the bug clone "walk" (see: slither like an eldritch nightmare) out of the alley, then stop and look toward Armsmaster. He pointed his spear and yelled something I couldn't understand, bug ears being very different from human ears, so I just had the swarm stay silent. The hero shouted again; I assume something about identifying myself. Smiling, I instead had the swarm tilt it's "head" to the side, then dissipate, the bugs flying and crawling away, the main body dissolving. If I was going to be the silent hero, that meant the heroes shouldn't have too much information on me either.
Armsmaster grimaced, then lifted a hand to his helmet and spoke, my bugs hearing the sound like a series of deep bass notes, as if Christopher Nolan had tripped in an organ factory. More sounds came from his helmet, and he turned to Lung, pulling out a kind of cage to put the villain in, loaded his captive onto the motorcycle, then checking on the other downed gang members.
The group of dinosaur wranglers was on the move, leaving my range, so I put them out of mind, reminding myself to check PHO for four capes who fought with monsters. Satisfied with my night, I stood up, stretched my back until it popped, and started my walk back home with a confidence in my step I hadn't felt in a very long time.
*ARMSMASTER – SUNDAY NIGHT
Armsmaster attached the cage holding Lung to his bike, locking it in place, then gave the villain another dose of sedative to ensure he stayed out until they could reach the Rig. Turning, he checked the fallen gang members, being sure to catch video and pictures. It wasn't a pretty sight. Each man was covered in welts and bites, far more than was natural. The Case 53 he'd seen earlier was violent. He heard labored gasping and approached one of the men, bending down to check the man's vitals, then jerked upright with a curse. The man was barely breathing, his throat almost swollen closed. He ran back to his bike, pulling open a compartment to grab an Epi-Pen. Looking at the other men on the ground, he pulled out all four he carried, injected the first into the man he'd examined, and started triage.
Triggering his radio, he called it in, "Console, I need ambulances, at least five. Several subjects in anaphylactic shock, send epinephrine." He once again looked at the dozen men on the ground, at a loss for how to help if more than four were dying. "We have a new cape in town."
*TAYLOR – SUNDAY NIGHT
As I made my way down the dark streets towards home, I had my bugs scouting every place someone might hide. Down the dirty alleys, behind dumpsters, watching from windows, I constantly moved my shrunken control field until I was sure I found them all. I took great pains to avoid everyone who could see me, backtracking a few times or taking side streets to avoid cameras. I didn't want to risk being attacked and needing my bugs to defend me, narrowing down possible areas where any new bug-themed capes might live.
My trip home took an hour longer than necessary, but I was confident I hadn't been seen once. I'd even ended up detouring and approaching my house from the south, the opposite direction from where I'd fought Lung in the northern docks. When I'd originally left several hours ago, I'd taken a different route away from my house going west, then turned sharply and travelled northeast once I was a fair distance away, just to further muddy any trails. Part of me knew I was being paranoid, but it seemed prudent for now.
Getting to my house, I snuck around to the back door, keeping a firm grip on my key ring so it didn't jingle as I unlocked the door. Pushing inward, I listened for any telltale creaks from the hinges, and let out a relieved sigh that my oiling of them yesterday worked. Hopefully dad wouldn't notice, but I'd rather he found out I'd oiled the hinge and was maybeplanning on sneaking out rather than him catching me in the process of sneaking out. The less dad worried about me the better. Oversight would only crimp my hero work.
My bugs could feel dad upstairs, lying in bed. Once inside, I immediately took my shoes off, pulled the scarf down from my face, and padded silently through the house and up the stairs. Getting to my bedroom, I quickly opened the door only for it to let out the world's loudest SQUEEEEEEAK.
DAMMIT! I'd oiled the back door hinges but forgot my room. A thumping sounded from dad's room and within two seconds the light flicked on, revealing a fully dressed dad glaring at me.
"Oh, hey dad!" I tried to act normal, keenly aware I was fully dressed to go out in the cold night, "You're up late- "
"Taylor, where have you been?!" dad demanded in a controlled tone. I could see a vein throbbing in his temple, worry going to war with anger across his face.
I controlled my breathing, keeping a calm face, "I couldn't sleep, so I took a walk."
Dammit. Dad had been, for lack of a better term, a zombie since mom died. Immediately after, he'd drank his misery away, forgetting he had in a daughter so he could better reminisce on his deceased wife, my mom. I'd lost two parents in that car accident. Alan and Zoe Barnes had taken me in, Emma being my lifeline as I dealt with my grief. Before Emma had turned into a psychotic bitch. Back when she'd been my best friend.
If I'd snuck out during that period, dad wouldn't have found out until the police called to inform him they'd found my body. Only after Alan had threatened dad with CPS was it that dad shook himself out of his awful depression and instead settled into regular depression. At least he hadn't been drinking since then. He'd thrown himself into his work, again ignoring that I was not, in fact, a houseplant. We had food to eat, a house to live in, utilities were paid for.
But he just stopped reaching out. The lamp that I sought for in the darkness dimmed, and I stopped searching.
For a year we'd had an uneasy silence pervading the house, both of us not speaking to the other, asking trite questions on the rare occasion we had dinner together, nothing of substance, answers easily passed over.
Then around Thanksgiving he'd met Hannah. She apparently worked for the city as a consultant. Dad had started pulling it together. Trying to take more interest in my life. Working out and getting in shape. We talked a little more, but not a lot more; dad was content to give me the space and I had long ago stopped asking for closeness.
He hadn't told me about Hannah right away. Instead, he'd waited until the end of the Christmas break. Then he'd cheerfully informed me that "he'd met a nice lady and they were dating" and "she makes me want to be better" and "I know I've failed as a parent since mom passed away but I'm going to change that."
It galled me that his daughter's suffering wasn't enough to get him to change, but some bitch was. My resentment toward him became a cancer. To his knowledge everything had been just fine other than me being withdrawn. I hadn't met Hannah yet, and dad was smart enough not to bring her up often.
Only a week later the locker happened and I'd come out the other side with powers. Something else was going on behind the scenes though because it got cleared up almost immediately. A lot of people were on the line for getting sued. We'd gotten enough settlements to pay the medical bills plus enough to pay for an Ivy League college education, Blackwell was fired, Emma, Madison, and Sophia got in trouble then vanished from my life. Alan Barnes had gone to bat for his daughter, looking at me with all the loathing of a father defending his daughter from a vicious predator.
Since that time dad had apparently decided to make good on his promise to be a fucking parent again, going from as emotionally available as a crab to as emotionally available as an overbearing crab. A few half-hearted apologies and we were supposed to pick up where we left off years ago? Some bitch thought he should be a parent again so magically he was? I was just supposed to open up my entire life to him and let him walk on in? Fuck. That.
"Taylor? Where. Have. You. Been? Really." he asked with furrowed brow.
Ok Taylor, you've got this. Deescalate. Make him trust you. Help him realize he doesn't need to worry about you. Happy dad means no one hovering over my shoulder. You got this.
"Out. For. A. Walk." I growled, crossing my arms.
God dammit.
I realized I'd assumed the same posture as him, arms folded, leaning against the wall, head slightly tilted. I got my looks from mom, but my dad gave me his height, his temper, and mix of his mannerisms.
"Taylor, for God's sake," he started, the anger ebbing and the anxiety increasing, "It's Brockton Bay! You don't go for walks in the middle of the night! There's a gang of literal human traffickers! What if you'd run into them?!"
"Oh, I'm SO GLAD you care about that now!" I spat, that confidence I felt from taking down Lung morphing into anger. I was a cape; I was going to be a hero. I'd been fending for myself for years! Why was it NOW of all times that dad had to remember he had a family?!
I closed my eyes and took a breath through my nose, opening them to see dad's painful look of guilt. He knew exactly what'd I'd meant. No need to monologue to my own father about how shit he'd treated me for the past few years. A few months of slightly more attention was a poor offering to balance the scales. Especially when I knew the cause and it wasn't me.
Taking another breath, I calmed myself. If he trusts me, he gives me less oversight and I get to be a hero the way I want to be. "I went for a walk, I stayed nearby, I avoided anyone else. I was perfectly safe. I took my pepper spray."
Dad took in my forced calm and struggled until he had calmed himself also, then asked, "Why?"
And there went my calm façade.
"Because I just wanted to, ok?!" Then I turned around and went into my room, closing the door in his face. Putting my back to the door, the bugs I'd placed on him let me feel him approach the door, tentatively raising his hand to knock, before dropping it back down. He stiffly made his way back into his room, got undressed, and got into bed. But rather than go to sleep, he instead picked up the phone next to the bed. Great, calling Hannah again. She must have kept weird hours for him to be calling during the deepest part of night.
I blinked tears out of my eyes, unsure if I was angry, frustrated, or grieving.
Why now?
I'd been through years of hell.
Dad never noticed.
I lost mom and collapsed.
Dad never noticed.
I lost my best friend.
Dad never noticed.
Every facet of my life was wrecked.
Dad. Never. Noticed.
Sure, he'd been doing better over the Christmas break, but he was performing for Hannah, not caring about me. In the end, it took him getting laid and the locker, a murder attempt against his own daughter, to get him to do something. It stung to see where I had been ranked in his priorities for all these years. Below his own grief. Below the union. Below Hannah.
He didn't care about me before. He had NO FUCKING RIGHT to suddenly demand I accept his care now.
I felt my throat clench, squashing whatever sound that was trying to make itself heard, and wiped the tears now dripping down my cheeks. Collecting myself, I changed out of my costume and went to bed.
Ignorance 1.2 - Cooler Heads and Better Plans
Dstarr17
Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?
- Joined
- Jan 12, 2024
- Messages
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- 44
*TAYLOR – MONDAY MORNING
Money makes the world go round. The lack thereof grinds it to a halt. I envied my bugs. Spiders never had to worry about money.
I stared at my burner phone, trying to decide what to do. I'd only had enough money for the one. And now I'd used it. When were you supposed to get rid of a burner phone? Was it a "one call and that's it" kind of thing? Do you use it until you know you're compromised and then throw it away? Or maybe it's time based; use it for a week then throw it away, more as a precautionary measure. I'd removed the battery just in case. Would I endanger myself or my identity if I continued using it?
I dragged myself away from the conundrum shaped piece of technology and got dressed, putting on an old pair of running shorts and tank top for my morning jog. My hero costume, burner phone, and tools (minus the pepper spray) went deep under my bed, in an old duffel bag, somewhere I hadn't cleaned in years. If I'd been thinking last night, I would have put everything in the basement, hidden away from sight, but the anxiety of sneaking back into the house had me rushing back to my room before I remembered. Not that it had done me any good.
I could hear dad moving around his room and, with last night's confrontation on my mind, I had no desire to engage in any conversation, even the shallow ones where we asked each other about how we slept and answered with "fine". Slipping out the front door, I briefly stretch, checked the pepper spray, and began my run. I deliberately jogged in the opposite direction from where I'd fought Lung, using my bug senses to check for ne'er-do-wells who might accost me. Luckily, no one liked being awake this early in the morning, not even me, so the streets were relatively empty. Anyone awaking at this hour had a purpose, and that purpose didn't involve Taylor Hebert.
While getting in shape had been my primary motivation to start running, that had now transformed to reconnaissance. Sure, getting rid of the pudge belly was nice, but by running I could explore farther, targeting areas not near my house, finding possible drug dealers, brothels, or dog fighting rings. Not that I had found any of the latter yet, I was far outside Empire 88 territory.
As I ran, I kept my control field at a diameter of 2 blocks or so, giving me enough information to scout for oddities. More recently I'd been practicing pinging my swarm a command to "smell for drugs." A bug's sense of smell was much better than a human, and I'd quickly learned to identify illegal substances. By pinging those smells to my swarm, I could quickly surmise if there were any in the area.
If I found something, I would shrink my control bubble to take a closer look. By frequently pinging my swarm then recreating the control bubble wherever needed, I could effectively scout out entire city blocks as I exercised.
As I ran and searched, my conversation with dad briefly reared its head and ratcheted up the guilt I felt. After the locker, Dad was trying. Even if it was mostly because of Hannah. But dammit this was a terrible time to actually have a parent who cares. My instinctual anger toward him wasn't helping either. In fact, the guilt fed into the anger. I had all the right in the world to be mad at dad. Why should I feel guilty?
Then why did I feel guilty?
I squashed the feelings and the memories, instead focusing on the soothing rhythm of my feet hitting pavement. Finding another drug den, I kept jogging, mentally noting its location for later.
Regardless of how hard I tried to avoid it, my thoughts consistently returned to last night's argument. I hadn't needed to escalate like I did, metaphorically hitting below the belt. In my defense though, I was fed up with someone treating me like I was a doll, to be discarded then picked up a few years later when they wanted. Turning another corner, I ran by a park, crossing to the other side of the street to avoid a man in a thick coat standing near the sidewalk.
I didn't want to fight with dad. Logically I knew that he was a parent, who was worried about his daughter. Logically I knew he had my best interests at heart. LOGICALLY I should be thankful that I had a dad again.
Fuck logic. I was angry.
But my anger wasn't doing me any favors. Stonewalling and yelling dad would only make him suspicious. What sort of people would I be hanging out with to have such a negative impact on "kiddo." I couldn't just sneak out whenever I wanted then expect dad to let it go like he did last night. Enough blow ups and he'd probably have me committed.
That meant I needed an alibi. Something beyond just faking a pleasant demeanor in the hopes he goes back to ignoring me. A disguise to wear at home, letting dad assume that I was doing great and there was no need to curtail my activities. It would mean not being angry at dad though. I wasn't sure I could handle that part right now.
The more I considered my predicament, the easier it felt. I wouldn't even have to lie… very much. If one of my "hobbies" happened to be across the city, I could simply walk within a mile of my target, handling it in the few minutes the building as in my range. Even better, it meant I could work during the day. Last night's long trek home was at first gratifying, showing I could be stealthy. But doing that every night? No. Better to hide in a crowd than in a shadow.
My smile slipped as I considered what needed to happen. I needed friends who could vouch for me. Not imaginary friends either, but real people because dad would want to meet them. Then I could simply fudge the numbers for how often I hung out.
My heart slowly twisted in my chest as I realized that I, Taylor Hebert, was contemplating. Friends? I had a better chance of taking Lung on in a fist fight. No one wanted to be friends with the shy scarecrow.
After a few minutes of panic and hyperventilating, I switched my train of thought and began considering the money problem once again, from this new angle. My allowance wasn't much, and while dad's income was doing better from those new union contracts, he was still acting frugal and not like someone flush with cash. If I was going to be using burner phones with any degree of regularity, I needed an income, one that I could also use to facilitate hero work during the day. That meant moving around the city. Getting a normal job waitressing was out, but maybe a pizza delivery girl. I'd be old enough in a few months, but for now no one wanted to hire a 15-year-old.
Could I steal money? Not from normal people, but I was going to be stopping crime. While riffling through a mugger's wallet and mugging them in turn sounded sketchy, if I exposed a drug den and they simply had a few less stacks of cash when the cops arrived, no one would notice right? Then I would only need the appearance of a job, preferably one where there was little to no supervision.
This could work.
When I got back home from my jog, Dad's truck was missing from the driveway. Feeling in a rush, I made myself a PB&J sandwich for breakfast, chunky peanut butter and raspberry jam. Pouring myself a glass of milk, I munched on my breakfast, then saw the note on the coffee table.
Taylor, I needed to head in early and will need to work late, will be home around 10. I'm sorry I can't take you to school. Good luck on your first day at Arcadia. Left a $20, use it for dinner.
Love you, Dad
I rolled my eyes. On one hand, of course dad was busy this morning. First day of a new school for his daughter? Nah, some petty problem at the union is more important. Offered out of the blue to drive me, pushed me to accept, and now dropping it for work? Par for the course. What was more shocking is that he wasn't performing the good parent act for Hannah.
On the other hand, my evening suddenly freed itself up, not needing to take time preparing a meal. I could practice hiding in crowds while still being a hero. People got mugged during the day. Right?
For dinner, I should probably order something large so there's leftovers. Pizza? Chinese? I can get a lot of Chinese food for $20. I briefly considered pocketing the money and putting it toward a new burner phone, but I had a feeling dad would notice. Now that I think of it, I'll probably be hitting an ABB facility today. Out of sight and out of mind, I didn't want anybody who could even tangentially be related to the gang to remember my face. Chinese food was certainly out of the question, pizza it was.
Going up to my room, I checked my map. I'd been using it to mark criminal elements I came across during my runs. I ran through my list of pizza joints, eventually selecting a chain restaurant that had two drug dens within a few blocks. Putting my spider silk body stocking in my backpack, I grabbed my burner phone and battery, pepper spray, my wallet, and the $20. I wouldn't be able to carry my knife with me, but the remainder of the items, even the body suit, weren't unusual enough that I'd have to leave them home. If for some reason the administration needed to search my backpack, a dyed body suit was the base of my Alexandria cosplay.
Locking the door behind me, I ran to catch a bus.
*DANNY – MONDAY MORNING
"She got home safely?" Hannah asked in a worried tone, "No indications she was involved with last night?"
"Yes, and No, thank god," Danny said, putting his head in his hands and rubbing his tired eyes, "The automatic alert Dragon whipped up finally pinged her location off a camera several blocks south of my house, and she was heading home, so wherever she was, it was far away of the Lung fiasco."
He stood up, walking around the conference table to stand behind his girlfriend to begin rubbing her shoulders.
"Shouldn't I be giving you the massage?" she pointed out, but adjusted herself so he could get better enjoy the stress induced act of service. She noted that her weapon, which been a machete, transformed first into a taser, then into a multitool pocketknife as the massage went on.
"Yamada says it's a healthy way to self sooth so long as I'm aware of what I'm doing," Danny explained, working on a particularly troublesome knot near the base of her neck, "And if the physical touch is wanted and appreciated of course. Go figure, therapy is useful. I feel like I cheated myself by never going until these last few months."
They were both early, it would be a few more minutes before the rest of the team arrived. Using his power, he checked his inactive connections to his other teammates, being able to feel their general direction and rough distance from himself.
He broke the silence. "She hates me Hannah," he whispered, "The way she looked at me, I could see it clear as day."
Hannah stayed silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "You said she was getting better before, right?"
"She was. Until school started again," he growled, and Hannah's weapon transformed back into a taser, "I followed Yamada's advice, gave her space and offered but didn't force any affection, just let her accept it on her own terms. It wasn't quick and it wasn't easy, and I had to squash my natural instincts, but I was taking it slow and Taylor was just starting to open up, come out of her shell. I was horrified to realize how bad I'd let things become and was making things right. And then that little monster Sophia…" He cut himself off, gritting his teeth, and Hannah stretched her shoulder as he aggressively worked the knot until he could feel it coming apart. "Sorry. After that she was just angry. Before she was apathetic, but every day we spoke just a little more. Christmas break going so well. Now if I so much as ask her a question it's nothing but scorn. And I deserve it for everything I did to- didn't do for her since Annette died."
Hannah knew parts of the story. Danny had taken the events of January 3rd hard. After some loving but stern prodding, he'd finally opened up. While they hadn't discussed his trigger yet, she knew it happened on Thanksgiving Day, and somehow involved Taylor. Unsure of how to proceed, he'd joined the Protectorate and had used his ties with the Dockworker's Union to create an unofficial army to clean up the area. Meeting Hannah had been icing on the cake. He'd been getting better. Taylor had been getting better. But finding out he had completely missed Taylor being tortured by a psychopath and former best friend for almost two years had crushed him.
"It's a setback Danny, keep working, she'll forgive you someday."
"But what if she doesn't? She might have triggered in there; it was certainly horrific enough. Even without a trigger she probably has some kind of PTSD from the whole thing. And I haven't been able to help her. She doesn't trust me, and despite how badly I want to mend this bridge I keep failing. For god's sakes, I was supposed to take her to school this morning, it's her first day at Arcadia. And I'm stuck at work!"
"We don't know if she triggered, but if she did then we'll work through it, all three of us. I'm here for you Danny, and I'm here for Taylor." She turned around to look him in the eye. "Maybe I could meet her this week?"
"Now? That wasn't a pretty fight we had last night."
"Maybe a third party could help. You said she's baseline angry with you always. Maybe another perspective could help."
He took a deep breath, then stopped rubbing her shoulders and went to sit back down. "Give me a few days until she cools off, and I'll talk to her about it. No promises, but I'll try."
"That's all we can do," Hannah said, "Has she been acting unusual, like she might have powers? If so, we should inform the Director and Wards so they can keep an eye out."
"Other than excessive yet deserved teenage anger? Biting rebukes? The ability to make her father confront his sins?"
"That's every teenager," she joked.
He shook his head, "So far, I have nothing. Other than going out last night, she hasn't done anything to indicate she might be a cape, and I haven't heard about a new vigilante beating up criminals." He gave a bitter laugh, "Things would be so much better and worse at the same time if her injuries had been slightly worse, just so we could have gotten an MRI and known for sure."
Hannah reached across the table and once again put her hand on his, "Keep trying. Show her you care and are there for her and eventually she'll let you in, and if she has powers, she will tell you herself."
"Thanks Hannah," he said with a grateful smile, "I couldn't do this without you."
"You were doing fine before you met me," she reassured, "And I never would have asked you out if I thought otherwise." She paused for a moment, "Although, the PRT does have procedures for monitoring suspected triggers. You really should inform the director if you have any suspicions."
He leaned over the table, giving her a quick kiss, with a "I'll keep an eye out," then checked the clock and put on his helmet and armored gloves, assuming his heroic identity. His costume consisted of a full coverage, futuristic, glossy black armor with gold edges and his personal symbol, four raised spears, across his chest.
Hannah put on her American flag bandana mask, and a minute later the door opened with a soft swish.
"Miss Militia, Centurion, good morning," Armsmaster greeted them, taking a seat.
Over the next two minutes the remainder of the team filed in, taking their seats. The Brockton Bay Protectorate members all grabbed donuts and coffee, courtesy of Assault and Battery, and quieted down as Armsmaster stood up.
Dauntless spoke up before another word was said, "This had better be important Armsmaster, I had plans with my wife."
"Sorry about your plans, but we will be on high alert for the next few days," Armsmaster responded, then began, "Last night, we received a text through our emergency system regarding Lung…"
Money makes the world go round. The lack thereof grinds it to a halt. I envied my bugs. Spiders never had to worry about money.
I stared at my burner phone, trying to decide what to do. I'd only had enough money for the one. And now I'd used it. When were you supposed to get rid of a burner phone? Was it a "one call and that's it" kind of thing? Do you use it until you know you're compromised and then throw it away? Or maybe it's time based; use it for a week then throw it away, more as a precautionary measure. I'd removed the battery just in case. Would I endanger myself or my identity if I continued using it?
I dragged myself away from the conundrum shaped piece of technology and got dressed, putting on an old pair of running shorts and tank top for my morning jog. My hero costume, burner phone, and tools (minus the pepper spray) went deep under my bed, in an old duffel bag, somewhere I hadn't cleaned in years. If I'd been thinking last night, I would have put everything in the basement, hidden away from sight, but the anxiety of sneaking back into the house had me rushing back to my room before I remembered. Not that it had done me any good.
I could hear dad moving around his room and, with last night's confrontation on my mind, I had no desire to engage in any conversation, even the shallow ones where we asked each other about how we slept and answered with "fine". Slipping out the front door, I briefly stretch, checked the pepper spray, and began my run. I deliberately jogged in the opposite direction from where I'd fought Lung, using my bug senses to check for ne'er-do-wells who might accost me. Luckily, no one liked being awake this early in the morning, not even me, so the streets were relatively empty. Anyone awaking at this hour had a purpose, and that purpose didn't involve Taylor Hebert.
While getting in shape had been my primary motivation to start running, that had now transformed to reconnaissance. Sure, getting rid of the pudge belly was nice, but by running I could explore farther, targeting areas not near my house, finding possible drug dealers, brothels, or dog fighting rings. Not that I had found any of the latter yet, I was far outside Empire 88 territory.
As I ran, I kept my control field at a diameter of 2 blocks or so, giving me enough information to scout for oddities. More recently I'd been practicing pinging my swarm a command to "smell for drugs." A bug's sense of smell was much better than a human, and I'd quickly learned to identify illegal substances. By pinging those smells to my swarm, I could quickly surmise if there were any in the area.
If I found something, I would shrink my control bubble to take a closer look. By frequently pinging my swarm then recreating the control bubble wherever needed, I could effectively scout out entire city blocks as I exercised.
As I ran and searched, my conversation with dad briefly reared its head and ratcheted up the guilt I felt. After the locker, Dad was trying. Even if it was mostly because of Hannah. But dammit this was a terrible time to actually have a parent who cares. My instinctual anger toward him wasn't helping either. In fact, the guilt fed into the anger. I had all the right in the world to be mad at dad. Why should I feel guilty?
Then why did I feel guilty?
I squashed the feelings and the memories, instead focusing on the soothing rhythm of my feet hitting pavement. Finding another drug den, I kept jogging, mentally noting its location for later.
Regardless of how hard I tried to avoid it, my thoughts consistently returned to last night's argument. I hadn't needed to escalate like I did, metaphorically hitting below the belt. In my defense though, I was fed up with someone treating me like I was a doll, to be discarded then picked up a few years later when they wanted. Turning another corner, I ran by a park, crossing to the other side of the street to avoid a man in a thick coat standing near the sidewalk.
I didn't want to fight with dad. Logically I knew that he was a parent, who was worried about his daughter. Logically I knew he had my best interests at heart. LOGICALLY I should be thankful that I had a dad again.
Fuck logic. I was angry.
But my anger wasn't doing me any favors. Stonewalling and yelling dad would only make him suspicious. What sort of people would I be hanging out with to have such a negative impact on "kiddo." I couldn't just sneak out whenever I wanted then expect dad to let it go like he did last night. Enough blow ups and he'd probably have me committed.
That meant I needed an alibi. Something beyond just faking a pleasant demeanor in the hopes he goes back to ignoring me. A disguise to wear at home, letting dad assume that I was doing great and there was no need to curtail my activities. It would mean not being angry at dad though. I wasn't sure I could handle that part right now.
The more I considered my predicament, the easier it felt. I wouldn't even have to lie… very much. If one of my "hobbies" happened to be across the city, I could simply walk within a mile of my target, handling it in the few minutes the building as in my range. Even better, it meant I could work during the day. Last night's long trek home was at first gratifying, showing I could be stealthy. But doing that every night? No. Better to hide in a crowd than in a shadow.
My smile slipped as I considered what needed to happen. I needed friends who could vouch for me. Not imaginary friends either, but real people because dad would want to meet them. Then I could simply fudge the numbers for how often I hung out.
My heart slowly twisted in my chest as I realized that I, Taylor Hebert, was contemplating. Friends? I had a better chance of taking Lung on in a fist fight. No one wanted to be friends with the shy scarecrow.
After a few minutes of panic and hyperventilating, I switched my train of thought and began considering the money problem once again, from this new angle. My allowance wasn't much, and while dad's income was doing better from those new union contracts, he was still acting frugal and not like someone flush with cash. If I was going to be using burner phones with any degree of regularity, I needed an income, one that I could also use to facilitate hero work during the day. That meant moving around the city. Getting a normal job waitressing was out, but maybe a pizza delivery girl. I'd be old enough in a few months, but for now no one wanted to hire a 15-year-old.
Could I steal money? Not from normal people, but I was going to be stopping crime. While riffling through a mugger's wallet and mugging them in turn sounded sketchy, if I exposed a drug den and they simply had a few less stacks of cash when the cops arrived, no one would notice right? Then I would only need the appearance of a job, preferably one where there was little to no supervision.
This could work.
When I got back home from my jog, Dad's truck was missing from the driveway. Feeling in a rush, I made myself a PB&J sandwich for breakfast, chunky peanut butter and raspberry jam. Pouring myself a glass of milk, I munched on my breakfast, then saw the note on the coffee table.
Taylor, I needed to head in early and will need to work late, will be home around 10. I'm sorry I can't take you to school. Good luck on your first day at Arcadia. Left a $20, use it for dinner.
Love you, Dad
I rolled my eyes. On one hand, of course dad was busy this morning. First day of a new school for his daughter? Nah, some petty problem at the union is more important. Offered out of the blue to drive me, pushed me to accept, and now dropping it for work? Par for the course. What was more shocking is that he wasn't performing the good parent act for Hannah.
On the other hand, my evening suddenly freed itself up, not needing to take time preparing a meal. I could practice hiding in crowds while still being a hero. People got mugged during the day. Right?
For dinner, I should probably order something large so there's leftovers. Pizza? Chinese? I can get a lot of Chinese food for $20. I briefly considered pocketing the money and putting it toward a new burner phone, but I had a feeling dad would notice. Now that I think of it, I'll probably be hitting an ABB facility today. Out of sight and out of mind, I didn't want anybody who could even tangentially be related to the gang to remember my face. Chinese food was certainly out of the question, pizza it was.
Going up to my room, I checked my map. I'd been using it to mark criminal elements I came across during my runs. I ran through my list of pizza joints, eventually selecting a chain restaurant that had two drug dens within a few blocks. Putting my spider silk body stocking in my backpack, I grabbed my burner phone and battery, pepper spray, my wallet, and the $20. I wouldn't be able to carry my knife with me, but the remainder of the items, even the body suit, weren't unusual enough that I'd have to leave them home. If for some reason the administration needed to search my backpack, a dyed body suit was the base of my Alexandria cosplay.
Locking the door behind me, I ran to catch a bus.
*DANNY – MONDAY MORNING
"She got home safely?" Hannah asked in a worried tone, "No indications she was involved with last night?"
"Yes, and No, thank god," Danny said, putting his head in his hands and rubbing his tired eyes, "The automatic alert Dragon whipped up finally pinged her location off a camera several blocks south of my house, and she was heading home, so wherever she was, it was far away of the Lung fiasco."
He stood up, walking around the conference table to stand behind his girlfriend to begin rubbing her shoulders.
"Shouldn't I be giving you the massage?" she pointed out, but adjusted herself so he could get better enjoy the stress induced act of service. She noted that her weapon, which been a machete, transformed first into a taser, then into a multitool pocketknife as the massage went on.
"Yamada says it's a healthy way to self sooth so long as I'm aware of what I'm doing," Danny explained, working on a particularly troublesome knot near the base of her neck, "And if the physical touch is wanted and appreciated of course. Go figure, therapy is useful. I feel like I cheated myself by never going until these last few months."
They were both early, it would be a few more minutes before the rest of the team arrived. Using his power, he checked his inactive connections to his other teammates, being able to feel their general direction and rough distance from himself.
He broke the silence. "She hates me Hannah," he whispered, "The way she looked at me, I could see it clear as day."
Hannah stayed silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "You said she was getting better before, right?"
"She was. Until school started again," he growled, and Hannah's weapon transformed back into a taser, "I followed Yamada's advice, gave her space and offered but didn't force any affection, just let her accept it on her own terms. It wasn't quick and it wasn't easy, and I had to squash my natural instincts, but I was taking it slow and Taylor was just starting to open up, come out of her shell. I was horrified to realize how bad I'd let things become and was making things right. And then that little monster Sophia…" He cut himself off, gritting his teeth, and Hannah stretched her shoulder as he aggressively worked the knot until he could feel it coming apart. "Sorry. After that she was just angry. Before she was apathetic, but every day we spoke just a little more. Christmas break going so well. Now if I so much as ask her a question it's nothing but scorn. And I deserve it for everything I did to- didn't do for her since Annette died."
Hannah knew parts of the story. Danny had taken the events of January 3rd hard. After some loving but stern prodding, he'd finally opened up. While they hadn't discussed his trigger yet, she knew it happened on Thanksgiving Day, and somehow involved Taylor. Unsure of how to proceed, he'd joined the Protectorate and had used his ties with the Dockworker's Union to create an unofficial army to clean up the area. Meeting Hannah had been icing on the cake. He'd been getting better. Taylor had been getting better. But finding out he had completely missed Taylor being tortured by a psychopath and former best friend for almost two years had crushed him.
"It's a setback Danny, keep working, she'll forgive you someday."
"But what if she doesn't? She might have triggered in there; it was certainly horrific enough. Even without a trigger she probably has some kind of PTSD from the whole thing. And I haven't been able to help her. She doesn't trust me, and despite how badly I want to mend this bridge I keep failing. For god's sakes, I was supposed to take her to school this morning, it's her first day at Arcadia. And I'm stuck at work!"
"We don't know if she triggered, but if she did then we'll work through it, all three of us. I'm here for you Danny, and I'm here for Taylor." She turned around to look him in the eye. "Maybe I could meet her this week?"
"Now? That wasn't a pretty fight we had last night."
"Maybe a third party could help. You said she's baseline angry with you always. Maybe another perspective could help."
He took a deep breath, then stopped rubbing her shoulders and went to sit back down. "Give me a few days until she cools off, and I'll talk to her about it. No promises, but I'll try."
"That's all we can do," Hannah said, "Has she been acting unusual, like she might have powers? If so, we should inform the Director and Wards so they can keep an eye out."
"Other than excessive yet deserved teenage anger? Biting rebukes? The ability to make her father confront his sins?"
"That's every teenager," she joked.
He shook his head, "So far, I have nothing. Other than going out last night, she hasn't done anything to indicate she might be a cape, and I haven't heard about a new vigilante beating up criminals." He gave a bitter laugh, "Things would be so much better and worse at the same time if her injuries had been slightly worse, just so we could have gotten an MRI and known for sure."
Hannah reached across the table and once again put her hand on his, "Keep trying. Show her you care and are there for her and eventually she'll let you in, and if she has powers, she will tell you herself."
"Thanks Hannah," he said with a grateful smile, "I couldn't do this without you."
"You were doing fine before you met me," she reassured, "And I never would have asked you out if I thought otherwise." She paused for a moment, "Although, the PRT does have procedures for monitoring suspected triggers. You really should inform the director if you have any suspicions."
He leaned over the table, giving her a quick kiss, with a "I'll keep an eye out," then checked the clock and put on his helmet and armored gloves, assuming his heroic identity. His costume consisted of a full coverage, futuristic, glossy black armor with gold edges and his personal symbol, four raised spears, across his chest.
Hannah put on her American flag bandana mask, and a minute later the door opened with a soft swish.
"Miss Militia, Centurion, good morning," Armsmaster greeted them, taking a seat.
Over the next two minutes the remainder of the team filed in, taking their seats. The Brockton Bay Protectorate members all grabbed donuts and coffee, courtesy of Assault and Battery, and quieted down as Armsmaster stood up.
Dauntless spoke up before another word was said, "This had better be important Armsmaster, I had plans with my wife."
"Sorry about your plans, but we will be on high alert for the next few days," Armsmaster responded, then began, "Last night, we received a text through our emergency system regarding Lung…"
Ignorance 1.3 - Hook, Line, and Overthinker
Dstarr17
Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?
- Joined
- Jan 12, 2024
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Two things: First, I have never read Ward. Therefore, when I introduce a character named Kenzie, it's just a stupid coincidence, the one in this story is an OC. I was thinking about popular names for high schoolers back in 2011 and Kenzie came to mind so I ran with it, only later finding out she's supposed to be a character in Ward.
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*TAYLOR – MONDAY MORNING
Stepping through the doors of Arcadia for the first time as a student, I could only imagine that this is what Roman gladiators felt like staring at the lion they had to fight. Terrifying, a true challenge. As I considered the daunting prospect of "making friends," I revised the scenario and made the lion the mythical hydra instead. Unkillable. What was I doing? I couldn't even make real friends, let alone fake being friendly enough to fool someone!
"Are you Taylor?"
The voice broke me out of my spiraling thoughts, and I turned to find a girl my age with straight, light brown hair, looking at me with nervous anticipation. How long had I been standing there staring at nothing?
MISSION! Focus on the mission. Make friends Taylor. Do it. Your alibi as a hero depends on it.
"Yeah, that's me."
Nailed it.
"Great! I'm Kenzie, we've got a bunch of classes together, so I volunteered to show you around Arcadia," the girl was sweating, what was she nervous about? She had nothing to be nervous about, she wasn't facing down the hydra! Or maybe she was. Or was she just the bait? I quested out with my bugs to find where the bully was hiding. Kenzie seemed like a prime target to send in under the radar, butter me up to get me vulnerable.
An image of Emma flashed through my thoughts, her smiling sneer looking down. "You don't deserve friends," she whispered, "No one would ever want you."
My bugs found nothing, no one watching two girls have a completely normal conversation. My paranoia was a necessary tool at Winslow, but Arcadia was a different beast. And I had a mission to complete. Pushing through the reluctance, I spoke.
"Thanks Kenzie. So, what's your favorite class?"
*TAYLOR – MONDAY MIDDAY
As I took notes in math class, I was both enraptured and pissed in equal amounts. The teacher was phenomenal. I was learning more about algebra in this one period than I would in 2 weeks back at Winslow. I was also furious since the subpar teachers at Winslow didn't prepare me for this! Struggling to learn in class was not something I was used to, and some of this math was clearly written in Egyptian hieroglyphics for how foreign it was.
I was going to have to put hours into studying every night in order to catch up on everything I missed. And I had hero work to do! Either my grades were going to suffer, or Brockton Bay was going to be without bug cape for a while. Between the two options, I would sacrifice any amount of academics to be a hero, but it was going to make it monumentally more difficult to hide my covert activities.
Kenzie was to my right, and on her other side was Anne, a Hispanic, self-assured, gregarious, popular, and very pretty girl that instantly set off every fight-or-flight response my body possessed. Worse, her and Kenzie were thick as thieves, with Kenzie playing the shy, quiet type to Anne's rambunctious nature.
Mission. Focus on the mission. Hopefully Anne hadn't picked up on my nervousness. They could smell fear.
Packing my books away with the rest of the class, we all went to lunch after the lecture. The cafeteria was heaven compared to Winslow. The food was both edible and tasted good. I huffed a little as I remembered that school budgets were typically determined by property taxes, and since Winslow was the public high school for poorest sections of Brockton Bay, there wasn't much to go around. Every parent who could afford it wanted to send their kid to private school, whether Immaculata or Arcadia. Hell, Clarendon was public also, but it was in a better area where less gang activity was likely to occur.
After Winslow, I'd been granted a scholarship to Arcadia that covered tuition, books, and lunch, all paid for by Winslow's school district according to dad. I felt bad taking even more money away from the chronically underfunded education system, but I also had to get away from Winslow at all costs.
Grabbing a tray of food, chicken strips and vegetables for the most part, I was halfway to the door so I could leave and find somewhere else to eat, maybe an empty bathroom, when I stopped and realized what I was doing. My mission. I at least needed to look like I had my life together, and that meant having friends, even fake ones. Turning on my heel, I resolutely marched back to Kenzie and Anne who had just gotten their food.
"Mind if I sit with you?" I asked, uncontrollable butterflies in my stomach.
"Yeah!" Kenzie said, looking thrilled, more so than I expected. Anne looked at Kenzie approvingly for some odd reason and muttered, "See, what did I tell you?"
I kept a closer eye on Anne after that exchange. What had Anne told her? We passed by a table full of popular kids, and my eyes were immediately drawn to a bubbly, blonde girl who might have been the most beautiful person I'd ever met in my life oh my gosh am I gay? I might be gay! Wow she's pretty!
I stopped, eyes wide and staring at the girl, who noticed me and waved before turning back to her group of table mates. I deliberately looked over the guys at the table, making sure I was still straight, focusing on a particularly handsome Hispanic boy. Yep, still straight.
"First time being around Glory Girl?" Kenzie asked as I got myself back under control, and continued after I nodded to the affirmative, "She does that sometimes. You get used to it. At least it wasn't her fear aura, that one made me drop my lunch the first time."
*TAYLOR - MONDAY AFTERNOON
The bell rang for my final period, all the students packing their bags to leave. I checked the time, then turned to the girls, "I have to get going and catch the bus, but… see you tomorrow?"
"Oh! Which line are you taking?" Kenzie asked.
"The red line?"
"I'm taking the red too!"
"Same here," Anne added.
Kenzie continued, "Can we walk with you to the bus stop?"
"Sure," I said, feeling a familiar heavy feeling in my heart. The kind of feeling that warned you of Emma coming for you when your back was turned. But I shoved the paranoia down, only for the familiar anger to begin flickering in my heart. The entire day, both had been friendly. Too friendly. What was their game plan. No one was this nice to someone they just met. I could feel my anxiety coming in waves throughout the day, as various gestures, phrases, and facial expressions gave me flashbacks of Winslow and Emma. So, I kept my guard up. It wouldn't do any good to fake having friends if said friends stabbed me in the back.
We left the school, me trying my best to be part of the conversation. This one was about capes, standard first meeting questions like "Who's your favorite?" and "Which powers would you want?" To that last one I gave a nervous laugh, then explained I'd love to be a barebones Alexandria package. Strength, flight, invulnerability. Classic.
Our stop wasn't far, only three blocks away. Losing my focus while checking the nearby buildings and streets with my bugs, I snapped back to reality with a "Sorry, what was that?"
"Which school did you attend before?" Kenzie asked, then her eyes widened in horror, "Oh no! Did you already tell me, and I forgot?!"
"I went to Winslow, and no I didn't," I calmly explained to my excitable peer.
"Ooohhh," Anne said with raised eyebrows. I mentally prepared myself for whatever bullshit was about to come my way. "I've heard crazy stories about how bad Winslow is. Are they true?"
"Oh, uh, what kind of stories?" I course corrected. Had this been an Emma situation Anne would have immediately jumped on me attending the glorified juvenile hall that is Winslow.
Kenzie jumped in, "Is it true that gangs recruit there and have booths at lunch?"
I paused for a moment, trying to wrap my head around the image of Lung handing out brochures on the benefits of ABB membership. With a quiet laugh, I explained, "Not quite. Lots of gangs recruit from Winslow and I would guess a third of the student body are gang affiliated. But they don't do booths or brochures."
"Is anyone allowed to graffiti the hallways?" Anne asked.
"Eh, it's not so much an allowed thing as a the-administration-is-awful kind of thing. No one cares enough to stop it, so it happens."
"Did someone get stabbed last week?" Kenzie said, and I noticed her hand slip into her pocket, probably holding a can of pepper spray.
I thought back. "Oh right, that did happen. Twice actually." I looked over to see Kenzie and Anne goggling at me, then continued with a weirded out yet not unwelcoming smile, "The first one was an E88 attack on an Asian guy. The ABB didn't like that, so they got revenge the next day."
"God, that's awful!" Kenzie said with eyes wide, staring at me, "How did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Make yourself go every day?! Everyone knows Arcadia had the Wards and the Dallons, so nobody starts anything, and the administration is strict on the rules. Winslow sounds worse than the rumors!"
I shrugged uncomfortably, "You just… do."
"Wow, power to you Taylor. Was it hard to transfer to Arcadia?" Anne asked.
"Uh, my grades weren't the best, but I was able to get a priority assignment after some… stuff happened." I had filled out the paperwork as soon as I could after the locker, but everyone, including the Arcadia staff, said it would be a long wait with my current grades. I considered three months to be a hellishly long time, but it had worked out, especially since the trio disappeared overnight immediately after.
"OOOOHHHH," Anne said with a smirk, "Priority assignment huh? Are we gonna see a new ward make their debut soon?"
I thought about that for a moment, "Uh, I haven't heard of one, OH YOU MEAN ME? Uh, no, nope, I'm not a cape."
"Sounds just like what a secret ward would say," Kenzie said with an exaggerated rasp and comically suspicious eyes.
I floundered for a moment until Anne offered a reprieve. "Well, I think you will like Arcadia. Maybe we could study together to get your grades up! It's a nice school, the weirdest things are usually Victoria Dallon accidently breaking through a wall Kool-Aid man style. Winslow though, yeesh. I heard some poor girl died there in December. Something about being shoved into a locker and left there over the break! Did that happen."
The anxiety that had been slowly dropping immediately jumped sky high, paradoxically becoming a sick pit in my stomach. Kenzie and Anne both saw the instant shift in mood and Anne jumped in, "Sorry, it was just a rumor, don't worry about it, it sounds too crazy to be true anyway."
"No, it really did happen," I said quietly, keeping my eyes on the pavement in front of me, "But she didn't die. She just went to the hospital."
"Oh my God I really thought that one was too insane to be true!"
"Yeah," I agreed, "I wouldn't have believed it eith-
My head whipped around to look up the street. My control field had found something farther away, coming closer. I'd assumed it was a car and moved on. Now that it was nearby, I paid more attention, and felt as though it was constantly changing shape.
"Fuck!" I looked around, checking for cover. We were in the middle of a long block of apartments, the nearest alley 50 yards away and nothing to hide behind on the street.
"Taylor, are you ok?" Kenzie asked, concern heavy in her voice.
Grasping for something believable, I lied, "I hear something up that way, coming closer. Come one, let's get off the street!" I grabbed both their arms and began running away from what I hoped was simply a very unique car.
A massive crash sounded behind us and I looked back to see a seething pile of metal blades and hooks come barreling out into the street, locked in combat with two figures, one in red and another in blue and grey. Hookwolf, fighting Assault and Battery. And they were coming this way. I didn't have a swarm ready, it would take precious minutes to assemble, so I sent out a call to arms and bugs began to gather. Not enough to notice, not immediately, and certainly not enough to defend myself or my two companions. Especially against Hookwolf, who seemed custom made to hard counter my powers.
I jumped as a pickup truck smashed into the pavement beside us like a meteor. Looking up, above where I would normally send my swarm of flyers, I saw a figure sitting on the hood of a levitating car, 100 feet in the air, with chunks of asphalt, concrete, and bits of another car orbiting her. If my knowledge from PHO was correct, that was Rune. She looked at us, shook her head and moved back toward the fight.
Ok, I can do this. Get a swarm together, get out of sight, bug pile Rune. I can do this.
We sprinted for the alley, the sound of grinding metal gaining on us, and now we could hear the yelling. Any bugs I sent into the whirling maelstrom of metal died quickly, and I couldn't find the villains eyes in constantly shifting blades. Other than his eyes, his entire body was metal, no bites or stings from my bugs would bother him.
Turning into the alley, I felt Hookwolf not 60 feet away, coming at us full tilt. "RUN!" I screamed and Kenzie, Anne, and myself redoubled our efforts.
I felt one of the heroes behind me suddenly go flying, hitting the ground and rolling to be almost directly in front of the alley. Glancing back, Battery was lying on the ground, holding her side where blood was seeping out of her costume. I also felt Hookwolf coming at her full speed.
Turning, I ran back, pulling out my pepper spray. Stupid stupid stupid! Why didn't I have a swarm ready at all times! I sent a pitifully small band of wasps at what I assumed was Hookwolf's face, only to have them die immediately, unnoticed. I emerged from the alley, only 10 feet from Battery, who looked at me in shock and yelled, "GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"
Hookwolf was almost on top of us, all I could see was an undulating wall of blades and sparks, my skin crawling from the screech of metal sliding against metal. For a split second I remembered that my pepper spray was only accurate within five feet.
"I'm going to die," I thought to myself, then wound up and threw the entire can of pepper spray directly at the wolf's "head." It sailed through the air, hitting the metal with a plinkthat was drowned out by the horrifying noise of razor coated death barreling toward me.
The can caught on a hook, pulled tight against the face, and punctured. A hissing sound started while a red mist exploded outward, covering Hookwolf's entire head. He jerked, his pseudo quadrupedal form shoving his face into the ground as if to scratch the stinging spray away. His direction changed, angling more toward me, so I jumped back into the alley and started running. I'd done as much as I could, I hoped Battery could get herself out safely.
The hellish sounds of Hookwolf's body grew louder, and I looked back to see him, rather than continue to chase Battery, coming down the alley, straight towards me, filling the entire space with a 10-foot wall of death. A CRASH echoed in front of me, and I turned to see a dumpster turned sideways, blocking the alley and my escape. Rune floated above it and yelled, "Bad move bitch!"
I tried. I really tried. When I jumped to try to clamber over the dumpster, my foot slipped on dirty garbage water covering the side of the garbage receptacle. I hit the ground in time to see Hookwolf almost on top of me.
This was it. The end. I froze.
A blast sounded somewhere above me, and a red suited figure dropped to the ground in front of me, snatching me beneath the armpits and lifting me up.
And up.
And up.
And up.
Me and my savior flew upward rising 20 feet off the ground just in time to see Hookwolf plow straight into the dumpster, his metal blades tearing it apart, getting caught like a wrench between two gears and slowing him down. My bugs tracked Kenzie and Anne safely out the other side of the alley and across the street, where they had stopped and were looking backwards. I heard a faint "Taylor!" yelled in panic.
Rune was focused on another figure, a boy in red and gold power armor riding a flying skateboard, shooting at the young villain with a gun firing electric bullets.
"You ok?" the hero holding me yelled.
I wrapped my arms around his neck as we continued flying higher, then answered in a panicked voice, "Yeah, yeah I'm alright!"
"Good! I'm going to drop you off, get somewhere safe!"
"Over there," I pointed at Kenzie and Anne.
Looking around from the high vantage point, I saw Miss Militia turn a corner on her motorcycle, her signature weapon turning into a massive rifle immediately.
Aegis, I assumed due to flying and the red suit, flew me down, causing me to lose sight of all the heroes and villains but him, and dropped me off next to Kenzie and Anne.
"Thank you!" I said, stumbling and feeling my rapid breathing starting to make me dizzy.
"You're welcome," Aegis said, his brown eyes crinkling in a smile, "Rescuing pretty girls is one of the perks of the job. And great job saving Battery!" He turned and took off again, flying straight for Rune.
Kenzie, Anne, and me followed his advice running for our lives. Once we were a few blocks away and the sounds of fighting had faded, the three of us collapsed, me doubled over and breathing hard, Kenzie and Anne dropped to sit on the dirty street, leaning against a wall.
"HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT." Kenzie said, and I looked up to see her staring at me with a crazy smile, "You're a superhero!"
"What! No I'm not!" I said, my sweaty body suddenly feeling clammy.
"You totally helped fight Hookwolf! I saw you throw the pepper spray!"
"Oooooh right, yeah, I just… was worried about Battery," I said, running my fingers through my hair as my breathing started to normalize.
"Seriously Taylor! You must be a cape! That was-"
Kenzie cut off as Anne stepped on her foot and gave Kenzie a serious look and a shake of her head. Kenzie gave a small nod and dropped it. Anne turned back to me.
"Yeah, that was amazing!" Anne said, "Plus you got to get rescued by Aegis!"
"And," Kenzie said with a very tired but very mischievous grin, "He thinks you're pretty."
"What?" That last part brought me to standing straight again, my mind instantly forgetting that I might have just outed myself, "He never said that… did he?"
"He said and I quote "Rescuing pretty girls is one of the perks of the job". Who else do you think he was talking about?" Anne said rhetorically.
"…One of you two?" I ask plaintively.
"Nope, definitely not me, he was talking about you 100%," Anne said putting her hands on her hips and giving me a look of fond exasperation.
I felt off. People didn't compliment me. Ever. I was a scarecrow, nothing but muscle and bone. At least I'd gotten rid of the gut through exercise. I had nice hair, but the rest of me left much to be desired.
Kenzie bumped into the conversation again, "Did you get his number?"
"No," I replied, feeling confused. What was happening? "We were kind of busy getting away from the murder blender and Third Reich Barbie."
"You could send him a thank you on PHO," Anne suggested, "He's got an account, I've seen him posting about current events."
"I already thanked him though; I'd rather not be a bother." I shrugged, feeling a little defensive.
"Ok, ok, no pushing," Kenzie said, noting my change in posture, "But I still think it's pretty cool that the leader of the wards called you pretty."
"And I think it's pretty cool that none of us died," I said, pulling the conversation away from me and my non-existent looks, "Thanks for trusting me and starting to run as soon as I said so."
"Oh my gosh that was insane! Did you see how…"
We continued onward, talking about the near miss until we reached a different bus stop. After a short trip, I said goodbye, disembarked, then went straight home to have a panic attack, completely forgetting the plan I'd made this morning.
As usual, dad wasn't home for dinner.
*HANNAH – MONDAY NIGHT
Danny stood by Hannah as she flinched from her wound being sewn up. Panacea wouldn't be visiting the Rig or PRT HQ for several days, not unless it was a life-or-death emergency, so Hannah would have to make do with conventional stiches for now.
"Did anyone catch Hookwolf after he got from our group?" she asked with a grimace as the curved needle went into her flesh.
"Nope, he disappeared," Danny said, "Left as soon as Rune was captured and wasn't seen again."
"Damn," Hannah griped, "Stabbed for nothing."
"Is this the wrong time to point out that you, a blaster, were-"
"He was a whole street away from me, and had eight other paths he could have used," Hannah defended with a sheepish smile.
"I'm just saying, you didn't see me directly in Hookwolf's line of retreat."
To shut him up she grabbed his collar, pulling him down and giving him a kiss, "We'll get him."
The doctor finished her work and left the room, leaving Hannah to get dressed, carefully covering the wound on her shoulder. She wouldn't be shooting right-handed until Panacea could see her.
"What's Taylor doing this evening?" Hannah asked, "Staying safe in all this?"
Danny grunted. The Empire had taken the news of Lung's capture as an excuse to go on the offensive city wide. It had been a dangerous day for the city.
"She should have gone to school then gone home."
"You don't know? You still haven't gotten her a cell phone?!"
"I- No, not yet."
"Danny! It's Brockton Bay!"
----
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*TAYLOR – MONDAY MORNING
Stepping through the doors of Arcadia for the first time as a student, I could only imagine that this is what Roman gladiators felt like staring at the lion they had to fight. Terrifying, a true challenge. As I considered the daunting prospect of "making friends," I revised the scenario and made the lion the mythical hydra instead. Unkillable. What was I doing? I couldn't even make real friends, let alone fake being friendly enough to fool someone!
"Are you Taylor?"
The voice broke me out of my spiraling thoughts, and I turned to find a girl my age with straight, light brown hair, looking at me with nervous anticipation. How long had I been standing there staring at nothing?
MISSION! Focus on the mission. Make friends Taylor. Do it. Your alibi as a hero depends on it.
"Yeah, that's me."
Nailed it.
"Great! I'm Kenzie, we've got a bunch of classes together, so I volunteered to show you around Arcadia," the girl was sweating, what was she nervous about? She had nothing to be nervous about, she wasn't facing down the hydra! Or maybe she was. Or was she just the bait? I quested out with my bugs to find where the bully was hiding. Kenzie seemed like a prime target to send in under the radar, butter me up to get me vulnerable.
An image of Emma flashed through my thoughts, her smiling sneer looking down. "You don't deserve friends," she whispered, "No one would ever want you."
My bugs found nothing, no one watching two girls have a completely normal conversation. My paranoia was a necessary tool at Winslow, but Arcadia was a different beast. And I had a mission to complete. Pushing through the reluctance, I spoke.
"Thanks Kenzie. So, what's your favorite class?"
*TAYLOR – MONDAY MIDDAY
As I took notes in math class, I was both enraptured and pissed in equal amounts. The teacher was phenomenal. I was learning more about algebra in this one period than I would in 2 weeks back at Winslow. I was also furious since the subpar teachers at Winslow didn't prepare me for this! Struggling to learn in class was not something I was used to, and some of this math was clearly written in Egyptian hieroglyphics for how foreign it was.
I was going to have to put hours into studying every night in order to catch up on everything I missed. And I had hero work to do! Either my grades were going to suffer, or Brockton Bay was going to be without bug cape for a while. Between the two options, I would sacrifice any amount of academics to be a hero, but it was going to make it monumentally more difficult to hide my covert activities.
Kenzie was to my right, and on her other side was Anne, a Hispanic, self-assured, gregarious, popular, and very pretty girl that instantly set off every fight-or-flight response my body possessed. Worse, her and Kenzie were thick as thieves, with Kenzie playing the shy, quiet type to Anne's rambunctious nature.
Mission. Focus on the mission. Hopefully Anne hadn't picked up on my nervousness. They could smell fear.
Packing my books away with the rest of the class, we all went to lunch after the lecture. The cafeteria was heaven compared to Winslow. The food was both edible and tasted good. I huffed a little as I remembered that school budgets were typically determined by property taxes, and since Winslow was the public high school for poorest sections of Brockton Bay, there wasn't much to go around. Every parent who could afford it wanted to send their kid to private school, whether Immaculata or Arcadia. Hell, Clarendon was public also, but it was in a better area where less gang activity was likely to occur.
After Winslow, I'd been granted a scholarship to Arcadia that covered tuition, books, and lunch, all paid for by Winslow's school district according to dad. I felt bad taking even more money away from the chronically underfunded education system, but I also had to get away from Winslow at all costs.
Grabbing a tray of food, chicken strips and vegetables for the most part, I was halfway to the door so I could leave and find somewhere else to eat, maybe an empty bathroom, when I stopped and realized what I was doing. My mission. I at least needed to look like I had my life together, and that meant having friends, even fake ones. Turning on my heel, I resolutely marched back to Kenzie and Anne who had just gotten their food.
"Mind if I sit with you?" I asked, uncontrollable butterflies in my stomach.
"Yeah!" Kenzie said, looking thrilled, more so than I expected. Anne looked at Kenzie approvingly for some odd reason and muttered, "See, what did I tell you?"
I kept a closer eye on Anne after that exchange. What had Anne told her? We passed by a table full of popular kids, and my eyes were immediately drawn to a bubbly, blonde girl who might have been the most beautiful person I'd ever met in my life oh my gosh am I gay? I might be gay! Wow she's pretty!
I stopped, eyes wide and staring at the girl, who noticed me and waved before turning back to her group of table mates. I deliberately looked over the guys at the table, making sure I was still straight, focusing on a particularly handsome Hispanic boy. Yep, still straight.
"First time being around Glory Girl?" Kenzie asked as I got myself back under control, and continued after I nodded to the affirmative, "She does that sometimes. You get used to it. At least it wasn't her fear aura, that one made me drop my lunch the first time."
*TAYLOR - MONDAY AFTERNOON
The bell rang for my final period, all the students packing their bags to leave. I checked the time, then turned to the girls, "I have to get going and catch the bus, but… see you tomorrow?"
"Oh! Which line are you taking?" Kenzie asked.
"The red line?"
"I'm taking the red too!"
"Same here," Anne added.
Kenzie continued, "Can we walk with you to the bus stop?"
"Sure," I said, feeling a familiar heavy feeling in my heart. The kind of feeling that warned you of Emma coming for you when your back was turned. But I shoved the paranoia down, only for the familiar anger to begin flickering in my heart. The entire day, both had been friendly. Too friendly. What was their game plan. No one was this nice to someone they just met. I could feel my anxiety coming in waves throughout the day, as various gestures, phrases, and facial expressions gave me flashbacks of Winslow and Emma. So, I kept my guard up. It wouldn't do any good to fake having friends if said friends stabbed me in the back.
We left the school, me trying my best to be part of the conversation. This one was about capes, standard first meeting questions like "Who's your favorite?" and "Which powers would you want?" To that last one I gave a nervous laugh, then explained I'd love to be a barebones Alexandria package. Strength, flight, invulnerability. Classic.
Our stop wasn't far, only three blocks away. Losing my focus while checking the nearby buildings and streets with my bugs, I snapped back to reality with a "Sorry, what was that?"
"Which school did you attend before?" Kenzie asked, then her eyes widened in horror, "Oh no! Did you already tell me, and I forgot?!"
"I went to Winslow, and no I didn't," I calmly explained to my excitable peer.
"Ooohhh," Anne said with raised eyebrows. I mentally prepared myself for whatever bullshit was about to come my way. "I've heard crazy stories about how bad Winslow is. Are they true?"
"Oh, uh, what kind of stories?" I course corrected. Had this been an Emma situation Anne would have immediately jumped on me attending the glorified juvenile hall that is Winslow.
Kenzie jumped in, "Is it true that gangs recruit there and have booths at lunch?"
I paused for a moment, trying to wrap my head around the image of Lung handing out brochures on the benefits of ABB membership. With a quiet laugh, I explained, "Not quite. Lots of gangs recruit from Winslow and I would guess a third of the student body are gang affiliated. But they don't do booths or brochures."
"Is anyone allowed to graffiti the hallways?" Anne asked.
"Eh, it's not so much an allowed thing as a the-administration-is-awful kind of thing. No one cares enough to stop it, so it happens."
"Did someone get stabbed last week?" Kenzie said, and I noticed her hand slip into her pocket, probably holding a can of pepper spray.
I thought back. "Oh right, that did happen. Twice actually." I looked over to see Kenzie and Anne goggling at me, then continued with a weirded out yet not unwelcoming smile, "The first one was an E88 attack on an Asian guy. The ABB didn't like that, so they got revenge the next day."
"God, that's awful!" Kenzie said with eyes wide, staring at me, "How did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Make yourself go every day?! Everyone knows Arcadia had the Wards and the Dallons, so nobody starts anything, and the administration is strict on the rules. Winslow sounds worse than the rumors!"
I shrugged uncomfortably, "You just… do."
"Wow, power to you Taylor. Was it hard to transfer to Arcadia?" Anne asked.
"Uh, my grades weren't the best, but I was able to get a priority assignment after some… stuff happened." I had filled out the paperwork as soon as I could after the locker, but everyone, including the Arcadia staff, said it would be a long wait with my current grades. I considered three months to be a hellishly long time, but it had worked out, especially since the trio disappeared overnight immediately after.
"OOOOHHHH," Anne said with a smirk, "Priority assignment huh? Are we gonna see a new ward make their debut soon?"
I thought about that for a moment, "Uh, I haven't heard of one, OH YOU MEAN ME? Uh, no, nope, I'm not a cape."
"Sounds just like what a secret ward would say," Kenzie said with an exaggerated rasp and comically suspicious eyes.
I floundered for a moment until Anne offered a reprieve. "Well, I think you will like Arcadia. Maybe we could study together to get your grades up! It's a nice school, the weirdest things are usually Victoria Dallon accidently breaking through a wall Kool-Aid man style. Winslow though, yeesh. I heard some poor girl died there in December. Something about being shoved into a locker and left there over the break! Did that happen."
The anxiety that had been slowly dropping immediately jumped sky high, paradoxically becoming a sick pit in my stomach. Kenzie and Anne both saw the instant shift in mood and Anne jumped in, "Sorry, it was just a rumor, don't worry about it, it sounds too crazy to be true anyway."
"No, it really did happen," I said quietly, keeping my eyes on the pavement in front of me, "But she didn't die. She just went to the hospital."
"Oh my God I really thought that one was too insane to be true!"
"Yeah," I agreed, "I wouldn't have believed it eith-
My head whipped around to look up the street. My control field had found something farther away, coming closer. I'd assumed it was a car and moved on. Now that it was nearby, I paid more attention, and felt as though it was constantly changing shape.
"Fuck!" I looked around, checking for cover. We were in the middle of a long block of apartments, the nearest alley 50 yards away and nothing to hide behind on the street.
"Taylor, are you ok?" Kenzie asked, concern heavy in her voice.
Grasping for something believable, I lied, "I hear something up that way, coming closer. Come one, let's get off the street!" I grabbed both their arms and began running away from what I hoped was simply a very unique car.
A massive crash sounded behind us and I looked back to see a seething pile of metal blades and hooks come barreling out into the street, locked in combat with two figures, one in red and another in blue and grey. Hookwolf, fighting Assault and Battery. And they were coming this way. I didn't have a swarm ready, it would take precious minutes to assemble, so I sent out a call to arms and bugs began to gather. Not enough to notice, not immediately, and certainly not enough to defend myself or my two companions. Especially against Hookwolf, who seemed custom made to hard counter my powers.
I jumped as a pickup truck smashed into the pavement beside us like a meteor. Looking up, above where I would normally send my swarm of flyers, I saw a figure sitting on the hood of a levitating car, 100 feet in the air, with chunks of asphalt, concrete, and bits of another car orbiting her. If my knowledge from PHO was correct, that was Rune. She looked at us, shook her head and moved back toward the fight.
Ok, I can do this. Get a swarm together, get out of sight, bug pile Rune. I can do this.
We sprinted for the alley, the sound of grinding metal gaining on us, and now we could hear the yelling. Any bugs I sent into the whirling maelstrom of metal died quickly, and I couldn't find the villains eyes in constantly shifting blades. Other than his eyes, his entire body was metal, no bites or stings from my bugs would bother him.
Turning into the alley, I felt Hookwolf not 60 feet away, coming at us full tilt. "RUN!" I screamed and Kenzie, Anne, and myself redoubled our efforts.
I felt one of the heroes behind me suddenly go flying, hitting the ground and rolling to be almost directly in front of the alley. Glancing back, Battery was lying on the ground, holding her side where blood was seeping out of her costume. I also felt Hookwolf coming at her full speed.
Turning, I ran back, pulling out my pepper spray. Stupid stupid stupid! Why didn't I have a swarm ready at all times! I sent a pitifully small band of wasps at what I assumed was Hookwolf's face, only to have them die immediately, unnoticed. I emerged from the alley, only 10 feet from Battery, who looked at me in shock and yelled, "GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"
Hookwolf was almost on top of us, all I could see was an undulating wall of blades and sparks, my skin crawling from the screech of metal sliding against metal. For a split second I remembered that my pepper spray was only accurate within five feet.
"I'm going to die," I thought to myself, then wound up and threw the entire can of pepper spray directly at the wolf's "head." It sailed through the air, hitting the metal with a plinkthat was drowned out by the horrifying noise of razor coated death barreling toward me.
The can caught on a hook, pulled tight against the face, and punctured. A hissing sound started while a red mist exploded outward, covering Hookwolf's entire head. He jerked, his pseudo quadrupedal form shoving his face into the ground as if to scratch the stinging spray away. His direction changed, angling more toward me, so I jumped back into the alley and started running. I'd done as much as I could, I hoped Battery could get herself out safely.
The hellish sounds of Hookwolf's body grew louder, and I looked back to see him, rather than continue to chase Battery, coming down the alley, straight towards me, filling the entire space with a 10-foot wall of death. A CRASH echoed in front of me, and I turned to see a dumpster turned sideways, blocking the alley and my escape. Rune floated above it and yelled, "Bad move bitch!"
I tried. I really tried. When I jumped to try to clamber over the dumpster, my foot slipped on dirty garbage water covering the side of the garbage receptacle. I hit the ground in time to see Hookwolf almost on top of me.
This was it. The end. I froze.
A blast sounded somewhere above me, and a red suited figure dropped to the ground in front of me, snatching me beneath the armpits and lifting me up.
And up.
And up.
And up.
Me and my savior flew upward rising 20 feet off the ground just in time to see Hookwolf plow straight into the dumpster, his metal blades tearing it apart, getting caught like a wrench between two gears and slowing him down. My bugs tracked Kenzie and Anne safely out the other side of the alley and across the street, where they had stopped and were looking backwards. I heard a faint "Taylor!" yelled in panic.
Rune was focused on another figure, a boy in red and gold power armor riding a flying skateboard, shooting at the young villain with a gun firing electric bullets.
"You ok?" the hero holding me yelled.
I wrapped my arms around his neck as we continued flying higher, then answered in a panicked voice, "Yeah, yeah I'm alright!"
"Good! I'm going to drop you off, get somewhere safe!"
"Over there," I pointed at Kenzie and Anne.
Looking around from the high vantage point, I saw Miss Militia turn a corner on her motorcycle, her signature weapon turning into a massive rifle immediately.
Aegis, I assumed due to flying and the red suit, flew me down, causing me to lose sight of all the heroes and villains but him, and dropped me off next to Kenzie and Anne.
"Thank you!" I said, stumbling and feeling my rapid breathing starting to make me dizzy.
"You're welcome," Aegis said, his brown eyes crinkling in a smile, "Rescuing pretty girls is one of the perks of the job. And great job saving Battery!" He turned and took off again, flying straight for Rune.
Kenzie, Anne, and me followed his advice running for our lives. Once we were a few blocks away and the sounds of fighting had faded, the three of us collapsed, me doubled over and breathing hard, Kenzie and Anne dropped to sit on the dirty street, leaning against a wall.
"HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT." Kenzie said, and I looked up to see her staring at me with a crazy smile, "You're a superhero!"
"What! No I'm not!" I said, my sweaty body suddenly feeling clammy.
"You totally helped fight Hookwolf! I saw you throw the pepper spray!"
"Oooooh right, yeah, I just… was worried about Battery," I said, running my fingers through my hair as my breathing started to normalize.
"Seriously Taylor! You must be a cape! That was-"
Kenzie cut off as Anne stepped on her foot and gave Kenzie a serious look and a shake of her head. Kenzie gave a small nod and dropped it. Anne turned back to me.
"Yeah, that was amazing!" Anne said, "Plus you got to get rescued by Aegis!"
"And," Kenzie said with a very tired but very mischievous grin, "He thinks you're pretty."
"What?" That last part brought me to standing straight again, my mind instantly forgetting that I might have just outed myself, "He never said that… did he?"
"He said and I quote "Rescuing pretty girls is one of the perks of the job". Who else do you think he was talking about?" Anne said rhetorically.
"…One of you two?" I ask plaintively.
"Nope, definitely not me, he was talking about you 100%," Anne said putting her hands on her hips and giving me a look of fond exasperation.
I felt off. People didn't compliment me. Ever. I was a scarecrow, nothing but muscle and bone. At least I'd gotten rid of the gut through exercise. I had nice hair, but the rest of me left much to be desired.
Kenzie bumped into the conversation again, "Did you get his number?"
"No," I replied, feeling confused. What was happening? "We were kind of busy getting away from the murder blender and Third Reich Barbie."
"You could send him a thank you on PHO," Anne suggested, "He's got an account, I've seen him posting about current events."
"I already thanked him though; I'd rather not be a bother." I shrugged, feeling a little defensive.
"Ok, ok, no pushing," Kenzie said, noting my change in posture, "But I still think it's pretty cool that the leader of the wards called you pretty."
"And I think it's pretty cool that none of us died," I said, pulling the conversation away from me and my non-existent looks, "Thanks for trusting me and starting to run as soon as I said so."
"Oh my gosh that was insane! Did you see how…"
We continued onward, talking about the near miss until we reached a different bus stop. After a short trip, I said goodbye, disembarked, then went straight home to have a panic attack, completely forgetting the plan I'd made this morning.
As usual, dad wasn't home for dinner.
*HANNAH – MONDAY NIGHT
Danny stood by Hannah as she flinched from her wound being sewn up. Panacea wouldn't be visiting the Rig or PRT HQ for several days, not unless it was a life-or-death emergency, so Hannah would have to make do with conventional stiches for now.
"Did anyone catch Hookwolf after he got from our group?" she asked with a grimace as the curved needle went into her flesh.
"Nope, he disappeared," Danny said, "Left as soon as Rune was captured and wasn't seen again."
"Damn," Hannah griped, "Stabbed for nothing."
"Is this the wrong time to point out that you, a blaster, were-"
"He was a whole street away from me, and had eight other paths he could have used," Hannah defended with a sheepish smile.
"I'm just saying, you didn't see me directly in Hookwolf's line of retreat."
To shut him up she grabbed his collar, pulling him down and giving him a kiss, "We'll get him."
The doctor finished her work and left the room, leaving Hannah to get dressed, carefully covering the wound on her shoulder. She wouldn't be shooting right-handed until Panacea could see her.
"What's Taylor doing this evening?" Hannah asked, "Staying safe in all this?"
Danny grunted. The Empire had taken the news of Lung's capture as an excuse to go on the offensive city wide. It had been a dangerous day for the city.
"She should have gone to school then gone home."
"You don't know? You still haven't gotten her a cell phone?!"
"I- No, not yet."
"Danny! It's Brockton Bay!"
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TeratoInspector
Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?
- Joined
- Jul 25, 2023
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I'm liking this so far. neat seeing a taylor that's had things more or less turn out but is still in conflict. lots of potential for cute and fun moments here