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Safe For Work Worm Ideas thread

Lisa creates her own thieving gang before Coil ever notices her and, as such, he can't really grab her. However, knowing that being in a team will make her higher-profile, her team only ever hits "acceptable targets". Cigarette companies, criminals, and other rich groups where a fair number of people will be cheering them on as they commit their crimes or at least not feeling much, if any, sympathy for their targets.

To help make sure people know why they're acceptable targets and to prevent the PRT from blackening their name easily they make sure to share video of what went on while keeping the heists clean as well as share what provoked the attack in the first place. They're sort of like Uber and Leet, but a lot more interesting, more competent, and less dangerous.

The Brockton Bay Wards don't want to try and stop them; whenever they're "asked" to engage they always find some way to delay long enough for the Undersiders (or whatever they're called in this universe) to escape cleanly. That or refuse, if they think they can get away with it. Either because they're fans, they don't disapprove of what they're doing, or they just don't want to get into a fight with the scarily-effective team. (Which may well be larger than it was in canon) If Taylor ever joined and tried to do what she did in canon she would definitely be called on it and forced to deescalate significantly. (No death threats, no maiming, no stealing from people that aren't (or can't be made known to be) readily acceptable targets or damaging their property without providing suitable compensation and an apology/thank you letter...)
 
I don't think Taylor would try to do what she did in canon if she joined these Underdogs.

Remember that every time she escalated, it was because she was pushed.
 
I was thinking more her "intimidate people into submission so she doesn't have to physically harm them" thing, but yes, good point.
 
Was watching Defiance today and looking at it i ended up wondering if anyone had thought about a cross with worm. The basis for the idea being that when the extra solar colonial fleets arrived they crashed into the entities, killing them. Through dimensional shinanigans hitting the entities resulted in all eight of the alien species ended up on earth bet. Instead of the worlds introduction to para humans being Scion the colonization wars (Can't remember the name used for them in the show) resulted in parahumans being considered part of the terra forming process screw up.

Depending on what the focus was on it could either be centered on Defiance or Worm. Anyway, just wanted to throw the idea out there and see if there was any feedback on it, or if it sparked someone's imagination.
 
I know Armsmaster is known as Arsenal in one of Eden's visions, but is the name Arsenal ever used anywhere else?
 
For the Love of Combat. (Worm/DBZ Fusion), by Jack of Olives
Because my muse is nothing if not fickle, I give you:

For the Love of Combat. (Worm/DBZ Fusion)

Taylor's breath came in ragged gasps, her muscles burned, she was covered with bruises, and a massive smile was on her face. She was somehow managing to stay in her rough fighting stance. The man across from her was nowhere near as tired as she was, despite being only half her height.

He dropped out of his own fighting stance. "That's enough, I think we're at your limit for today."

"I can keep going, Krillin Sensei." She protested between breaths.

Her sensei merely shook his head. "Of course you can, but you'll need a trip to the hospital afterwards."

"Yes Sensei." She breathed as she automatically began going into her warming-down exercises.

Her sensei turned and walked over to the side of the dojo, talking as he went. "One of the most important things about martial arts is knowing your current limits. As you train you'll slowly surpass those limits, but if you push yourself too far to fast, you'll only set yourself back while you recover."

Grabbing a towel from a rack and a sports drink from a shelf, he tossed both of them at his student (who fumbled a bit as she grabbed both items out of the air). "Now, all that said, have you been working on your meditation like I've instructed?"

Finishing a long pull from the sports drink, Taylor lets out a sigh of relief before answering. "Yes Sensei, I think I've got the exercises down."

"Show me."

Moving her tired body into a sitting position on the mat, Taylor closes her eyes and begins going through the meditation exercises that her she'd been taught.

Her sensei was only mildly surprised to see a visible aura appear around her after only a minute. A fond smile appeared on his face as he thought about his student's progress. In the two years she's been studying with him he's grown attached to his student, and not just for her determination. She was an honestly good kid and he enjoyed having her around.

Oddly enough, she reminded him of Goku, in that she seems to love a good fight. The few times that some of his friends came over to visit, she always asked if they could spar (in that adorably shy way of hers).

He was honestly beginning to think that she has a natural affinity to sensing ki, because even when his friends try to disguise themselves, she always seemed to pick out who the fighters were (granted, none of his friends were particularly good at disguising themselves, but still).

Coming to a decision, he clears his throat. "That's enough, Taylor."

His student's aura slowly disapates before she opens her eyes. "Did I do something wrong, Sensei?"

He just shook his head. "On the contrary, you've surprised me with how good you've gotten at it. I honestly wasn't expecting to have to explain this to you for another month, at least."

"'Explain'? Explain what, Sensei?"

"When you meditate, you can actually feel your ki flow through your body." It wasn't a question. "Many martial artists never even reach that point. You have a gift."

"I, er, thank you, Sensei." She said with a modest blush.

"So, let me ask you an odd question: are you familiar with Saiyaman out in West City?"

She blinked at the seeming non-sequitur. "The superhero with the helmet and goofy poses that gives Mouse Protector a run for her money?"

"Yeah~, him." Her sensei sounded strangely exasperated as he shook his head. "I actually know the kid. What most people don't know about him is that he's not a parahuman at all. He's a martial artist with a lot of ki and good control." Krillin decided to leave out the part about alien genetics, as it wasn't really relevant to the conversation. "Everything he can do, I can too, and so can a lot of others in our group." He stated simply.

Taylor seemed to be alternating between disbelief and astonished wonder as her sensei talked. "So that's where Saiyagirl came from! She must be his student."

"Something like that. Now, I bring this up for two reasons." He continued. "You've already been channeling your ki to be able to break those concrete blocks and toughen your skin when being hit." At her startled expression he chuckled. "What? Did you think it was normal for a human to be able to shatter large blocks of solid concrete like you've been doing? Without ki or some other kind of powers, anyone else would have shattered their hand, no matter how much training they'd done. Now that you've been able to consciously feel your ki, I'll be teaching you more advanced techniques, and these things will be obvious." he says as he casually forms a ball of energy in his hand and offered it to her for examination.

Taylor just sat their awestruck as she felt the ki radiating off of it. "Whoa."

Krillin chuckled at her expression. "The other reason, is that I can tell you've been wanting to go out and use your new skills to fight crime for a while, now. You want to be a hero, I can feel it on you. It's one of the reasons you train as hard as you do."

She blushed again as he said it. "Er- well, yes." She admitted sheepishly.

"Every so often we get kids in here who want to learn to be superheros. Most of them aren't willing to put the effort in to get to that point." He shakes his head again as he thinks back on some of the kids in question, before looking back up at Taylor again.

"You're different, though. You want to fight crime, but that's not the only reason you're training. You love martial arts; you love to fight." He looks her straight in the eye; studying her intently. "The reason I bring this up is because I don't want you to do any crime-fighting until I'm sure that you can take care of yourself. That means you wait until I say you're ready before you go putting yourself in danger. Am I clear?"

A hundred different emotions warred within Taylor as he looked at her, before she finally nodded with determination. "Yes Sensei. And... Thank you."

He just chuckled and walked up to her, patting her arm. "Good, now go shower; my wife's got dinner for us and Marron's been asking to see you again.

She chuckled herself at that. "You know I never pass up a chance to see her."

As she reached the door Krillin called out one more time. "Oh, and I'll be telling your father all of this."

Taylor froze in her tracks before gently banging her head on the door. "Damn."

***

AN: I blame my recent purchase of Dragon Ball Xenoverse for this (and maybe all the DBZ fanfiction I used to read :oops:)

The basic premise of this is that Danny signed Taylor up for martial arts classes with Krillin after she gets back from summer camp. After interacting with her for a bit, and noticing her good heart and dream of being a superhero, he decides to take her under his wing.

If I continue it, she's not going to turn into the super powerhouses that the Saiyans are, but a more tricky/resourceful fighter like Krillin became after Goku started surpassing him (destructo-disk, solar-flare, etc.).

And now, bed.
 
Last edited:
Because my mused is nothing if not fickle, I give you:

For the Love of Combat. (Worm/DBZ Fusion)

Taylor's breath came in ragged gasps, her muscles burned, she was covered with bruises, and a massive smile was on her face. She was somehow managing to stay in her rough fighting stance. The man across from her was nowhere near as tired as she was, despite being only half her height.

He dropped out of his own fighting stance. "That's enough, I think we're at your limit for today."

"I can keep going, Krillin Sensei." She protested between breaths.

Her sensei merely shook his head. "Of course you can, but you'll need a trip to the hospital afterwards."

"Yes Sensei." She breathed as she automatically began going into her warming-down exercises.

Her sensei turned and walked over to the side of the dojo, talking as he went. "One of the most important things about martial arts is knowing your current limits. As you train you'll slowly surpass those limits, but if you push yourself too far to fast, you'll only set yourself back while you recover."

Grabbing a towel from a rack and a sports drink from a shelf, he tossed both of them at his student (who fumbled a bit as she grabbed both items out of the air). "Now, all that said, have you been working on your meditation like I've instructed?"

Finishing a long pull from the sports drink, Taylor lets out a sigh of relief before answering. "Yes Sensei, I think I've got the exercises down."

"Show me."

Moving her tired body into a sitting position on the mat, Taylor closes her eyes and begins going through the meditation exercises that her she'd been taught.

Her sensei was only mildly surprised to see a visible aura appear around her after only a minute. A fond smile appeared on his face as he thought about his student's progress. In the two years she's been studying with him he's grown attached to his student, and not just for her determination. She was an honestly good kid and he enjoyed having her around.

Oddly enough, she reminded him of Goku, in that she seems to love a good fight. The few times that some of his friends came over to visit, she always asked if they could spar (in that adorably shy way of hers).

He was honestly beginning to think that she has a natural affinity to sensing ki, because even when his friends try to disguise themselves, she always seemed to pick out who the fighters were (granted, none of his friends were particularly good at disguising themselves, but still).

Coming to a decision, he clears his throat. "That's enough, Taylor."

His student's aura slowly disapates before she opens her eyes. "Did I do something wrong, Sensei?"

He just shook his head. "On the contrary, you've surprised me with how good you've gotten at it. I honestly wasn't expecting to have to explain this to you for another month, at least."

"'Explain'? Explain what, Sensei?"

"When you meditate, you can actually feel your ki flow through your body." It wasn't a question. "Many martial artists never even reach that point. You have a gift."

"I, er, thank you, Sensei." She said with a modest blush.

"So, let me ask you an odd question: are you familiar with Saiyaman out in West City?"

She blinked at the seeming non-sequitur. "The superhero with the helmet and goofy poses that gives Mouse Protector a run for her money?"

"Yeah~, him." Her sensei sounded strangely exasperated as he shook his head. "I actually know the kid. What most people don't know about him is that he's not a parahuman at all. He's a martial artist with a lot of ki and good control." Krillin decided to leave out the part about alien genetics, as it wasn't really relevant to the conversation. "Everything he can do, I can too, and so can a lot of others in our group." He stated simply.

Taylor seemed to be alternating between disbelief and astonished wonder as her sensei talked. "So that's where Saiyagirl came from! She must be his student."

"Something like that. Now, I bring this up for two reasons." He continued. "You've already been channeling your ki to be able to break those concrete blocks and toughen your skin when being hit." At her startled expression he chuckled. "What? Did you think it was normal for a human to be able to shatter large blocks of solid concrete like you've been doing? Without ki or some other kind of powers, anyone else would have shattered their hand, no matter how much training they'd done. Now that you've been able to consciously feel your ki, I'll be teaching you more advanced techniques, and these things will be obvious." he says as he casually forms a ball of energy in his hand and offered it to her for examination.

Taylor just sat their awestruck as she felt the ki radiating off of it. "Whoa."

Krillin chuckled at her expression. "The other reason, is that I can tell you've been wanting to go out and use your new skills to fight crime for a while, now. You want to be a hero, I can feel it on you. It's one of the reasons you train as hard as you do."

She blushed again as he said it. "Er- well, yes." She admitted sheepishly.

"Every so often we get kids in here who want to learn to be superheros. Most of them aren't willing to put the effort in to get to that point." He shakes his head again as he thinks back on some of the kids in question, before looking back up at Taylor again.

"You're different, though. You want to fight crime, but that's not the only reason you're training. You love martial arts; you love to fight." He looks her straight in the eye; studying her intently. "The reason I bring this up is because I don't want you to do any crime-fighting until I'm sure that you can take care of yourself. That means you wait until I say you're ready before you go putting yourself in danger. Am I clear?"

A hundred different emotions warred within Taylor as he looked at her, before she finally nodded with determination. "Yes Sensei. And... Thank you."

He just chuckled and walked up to her, patting her arm. "Good, now go shower; my wife's got dinner for us and Marron's been asking to see you again.

She chuckled herself at that. "You know I never pass up a chance to see her."

As she reached the door Krillin called out one more time. "Oh, and I'll be telling your father all of this."

Taylor froze in her tracks before gently banging her head on the door. "Damn."

***

AN: I blame my recent purchase of Dragon Ball Xenoverse for this (and maybe all the DBZ fanfiction I used to read :oops:)

The basic premise of this is that Danny signed Taylor up for martial arts classes at Krillin after she gets back from summer camp. After interacting with her for a bit, and noticing her good heart and dream of being a superhero, he decides to take her under his wing.

If I continue it, she's not going to turn into the super powerhouses that the Saiyans are, but a more tricky/resourceful fighter like Krillin became after Goku started surpassing him (destructo-disk, solar-flare, etc.).

And now, bed.


I like it. I take it Zion will be dealt with easily though. Ki is proven to break dimensional barriers. Honestly, Bills probably got the entities going since he is too damn lazy to do his job.

AbridgeChilled: Continue.
 
Because my muse is nothing if not fickle, I give you:

For the Love of Combat. (Worm/DBZ Fusion)

***

AN: I blame my recent purchase of Dragon Ball Xenoverse for this (and maybe all the DBZ fanfiction I used to read :oops:)

The basic premise of this is that Danny signed Taylor up for martial arts classes at Krillin after she gets back from summer camp. After interacting with her for a bit, and noticing her good heart and dream of being a superhero, he decides to take her under his wing.

If I continue it, she's not going to turn into the super powerhouses that the Saiyans are, but a more tricky/resourceful fighter like Krillin became after Goku started surpassing him (destructo-disk, solar-flare, etc.).

And now, bed.

I like it! I'd definitely read more, if you write it. There's a lot of potential here, I think.
 
I like it. I take it Zion will be dealt with easily though. Ki is proven to break dimensional barriers. Honestly, Bills probably got the entities going since he is too damn lazy to do his job.
I'll agree that it's good but Scion should be no means be a pushover, the important thing to note being that if ki is real here then Scion should know about ki as they'd have encountered some race able to use it and studied it in depth like everything else. So what you've actually done is turn the millions of year old planet sized alien that is more intelligent then all of humanity ever combined into a dragonball style ki user, see the issue? Anyway that just applies more so if Bills was the source of them as he'd definitely have created ki using beings.

It's the trick in crossovers, if you add a new mechanic to the multiverse you also have to have an explanation for why Scion and Eden hadn't encountered it before or you have to have them be able to use it. Generally that doesn't matter as it's either they have encountered it and a shard just gave the protag the power or it's from across the fictional omniverse and beyond the reach of any entity. This one however is neither it seems so if they can't use and don't know about ki you'd need a good explanation given that pre-industrial societies can do it and it seems basically every sapient ever is capable of figuring out how by themselves with time and effort.
 
I got bored and decided to make a worm prompt for people to write a worm story based on poetry,they can use a line from the poem,personally i want people to avoid using the title if it can't be helped.you can even use an Oc,crossovers or the poem in the story.your even allowed to use a different poem,BUT not Invictus!
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air—
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath—
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.

God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear...
But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.
(JUTLAND)

1916

Not in the thick of the fight,
Not in the press of the odds,
Do the heroes come to their height,
Or we know the demi-gods.

That stands over till peace.
We can only perceive
Men returned from the seas,
Very grateful for leave.

They grant us sudden days
Snatched from their business of war;
But we are too close to appraise
What manner of men they are.

And, whether their names go down
With age-kept victories,
Or whether they battle and drown
Unreckoned, is hid from our eyes.

They are too near to be great,
But our children shall understand
When and how our fate
Was changed, and by whose hand.

Our children shall measure their worth.
We are content to be blind . . .
But we know that we walk on a new-born earth
With the saviours of mankind.
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And—which is more—you'll be a Man, my son!
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe;
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I water'd it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with my smiles
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright;
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole
When the night had veil'd the pole:
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness,— That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.

O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim:

Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs, Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.

Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.

I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild; White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine; Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves; And mid-May's eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.

Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain— To thy high requiem become a sod.

Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.

Forlorn! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep?
The tree has entered my hands,
The sap has ascended my arms,
The tree has grown in my breast—
Downward,
The branches grow out of me, like arms.

Tree you are,
Moss you are,
You are violets with wind above them.
A child—so high—you are,
And all this is folly to the world.
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp!

When the stars threw down their spears
And water'd heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
"A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter."
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty, and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we lead all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
Was Helen stronger than Achilles even "as the arrows fell"? That could not be, but he recognised in her some power other than her legendary beauty.

He could name Helena,
but the other he could not name;
she was a lure, a light,

an intimate flame, a secret kept
even from his slaves, the elect,
the innermost hierarchy;

only Helena could be named
and she was a public scandal
in any case, a cause of shame

to Agamemnon and Menelaus;
it was not that she was beautiful,
true, she stood on the Walls,

taut and indifferent
as the arrows fell;
it was not that she was beautiful,

there were others,
in spite of the legend,
as gracious, as tall;

it was not that she was beautiful,
but he stared and stared
across the charred wood

and the smouldering flame,
till his eyes cleared
and the smoke drifted away.
The low lands call
I am tempted to answer
They are offering me a free dwelling
Without having to conquer

The massive mountain makes its move
Beckoning me to ascend
A much more difficult path
To get up the slippery bend

I cannot choose both
I have a choice to make
I must be wise
This will determine my fate

I choose, I choose the mountain
With all its stress and strain
Because only by climbing
Can I rise above the plane

I choose the mountain
And I will never stop climbing
I choose the mountain
And I shall forever be ascending
I choose the mountain
Oh feel the winds of the season's change
Loudly roaring it's way into our face
As it pushes back time and place
Forcing forward the new horizons.

As we dare run to the comfort of the Old,
The New whirls by taking hold
Making us look into new challenges
Even though we haven't conquered the past.

Mistakes rush by we can no longer repair;
A love loosens it's latest flair.
Will another flame take hold?
Passions yearning, sentimental burning,
Gripping, grasping to keep time and fashion still.

The Winds of Change, loudly roaring,
Sets fear into hearts of losing all
But the memories of previous charts.

Pounding, beating against our faces,
It forces it's quarry onto new places.
Looking backward there is no view.
Only forward, but how, with who?

Resist! Struggle! Be sedentary!
But we are only overcome
as it carries us into a new
Season of life abound.
 
Embrace of Steel 3, by Zege
A pretty slow recovery snippet, probably going to rewrite it in the future, but I think it does an okay job of setting up Taylor's mental state and the damage done to her family.

Unbeta'd as usual.


Previous Chapter
Embrace of Steel, Part 3

Taylor Hebert laid on the sidewalk with her arms wrapped around herself, sobbing uncontrollably. As she curled into a ball, all she could think of was the look in her mother's eyes as she stood in the street with a lance jutting from her breast.

'Little Owl...'

Spasms wracked her body, and her sobbing was replaced by a hacking cough, violent enough to drive shards of new agony into her already tortured ribs.

Blood spattered the ground before her face. Her scarf had come loose at some point, and pooled loosely around her neck.

She heard shuffling at her side. "Taylor, oh god Taylor!"

Taylor lifted her head, staring blearily at the figure kneeling beside her. "Daddy?"

He turned away to shout down the street, "I need some help over here!" Just like her dad to run into a battlefield, she thought.

"Dad? You need..." Her plea was interrupted by another round of spasms, and she coughed up even more blood. "...to run."

"Shh, shh, kiddo. It's okay." Her father placed one hand against her cheek, and gave her a watery smile. "You stopped them, they're down."

Taylor couldn't help but press into her father's hand. It was cool against her feverish skin, and the contact eased some of her ache. Danny shifted some to rest her head in his lap, and slowly stroked her hair, as she cradled her hands to her chest and cried tears of of grief and pain.

She felt warm droplets land on her head, and looked up to see her father crying tears of his own.

Taylor reached out and touched his hand, offering her own measure of comfort, and in doing so came into contact with Danny's wedding ring. On reflex, she imposed the order of metal upon her mind, numbing the pain and washing away the fatigue.

The gold band was less rigid, more malleable, than that of the Steel of the weapons she had wielded, but it would have to do.

Taylor shifted in place, and sat up, replacing the scarf around her face. She watched the scene before her with cautious eyes.

PRT trucks had arrived, and were disgorging troops armed with containment foam, who swiftly emptied their tanks over the prone forms of Hookwolf and Kaiser, while Armsmaster and Miss Militia stood guard.

Ambulances were parked nearby, and Taylor observed stoically as a team cordoned off the area around her mother's body.

The memory of her mother's eyes flashed through her memory, and grief surged behind the Steel.

Her grip on her father's hand tightened fractionally.

A pair of EMT's arrived with a stretcher, and quickly began examining her and Danny while asking questions Taylor only paid partial notice to. The majority of her attention was instead focused on the approaching form of Armsmaster.

As the power-armored form of the local Protectorate leader drew closer, Taylor had to draw even further on the strength granted by her contact with the metal of her father's ring. They may have cooperated to end the battle, but Taylor had not forgotten Armsmaster's involvement in her mother's death.

The hero stopped a short distance away. Further than the reach of his Halberd, she noted with dark amusement. 'He's right to be cautious.'

"That was an admirable thing you did," he began, nodding towards the battlefield, "but incredibly reckless. You could have easily been injured beyond what you already are. Or worse."

If Taylor hadn't been regulating herself with her newfound power, she would've snapped then and there, and probably verbally assaulted the cape. Possibly even attacked him if she weren't crippled by the pain.

As it was, she decided to stick to pointed remarks. "Somebody had to step in before you let someone else get killed."

Armsmaster stiffened at that, frowning heavily. "That was… regrettable. I offer my condolences, but I couldn't have known Skidmark would repel the attack like that, or that she was in the line of fire."

"You could have let them go when they started dragging civilians into the battle," Taylor shot back with a venomous glare.

"And let them run rampant? I could nev-" He cut himself off, and took a deep breath. "This isn't the time. I am sorry, but there's nothing to be done now. Are you alright? That was a powerful detonation."

Taylor considered furthering the argument, but decided to let it drop. She was still furious, but the cool presence of Steel allowed her to think past her pain and grief. "I'm hurt pretty bad, I think. My… power is letting me ignore it though."

She felt her father - who had been uncharacteristically silent during the argument - tense when she mentioned her injuries. She faced him, and gave him a small, reassuring smile.

Danny Hebert looked like hell. Blood had seeped from a light wound on his forehead, and had traced a path down the side of his face. One lens in his glasses had cracked, and the frame sat askew. Tears and holes spotted his shirt, and the man had somehow lost a boot.

But he was alive. Taylor knew it could have been so much worse, that she could have lost not only her mother, but her father too. Any number of things could have happened, but she still had him.

He smiled back, and squeezed her hand.

"A trip to the hospital should be enough, I think. Panacea is usually there right around now..." Armsmaster trailed off thoughtfully, before rooting around in his utility belt.

After a moment, he triumphantly removed.. a mask?

Taylor touched her improvised balaclava. "Uh, I don't really need a mask right now."

Instead of responding, the tinker instead passed it off to Danny. "Here. You're obviously related to her, and your identity could expose her own."

Her father blinked at the fabric, and took it after a moment's hesitation. "Oh, uh. Thank you."

It was a simple piece of white fabric, with an opening across the eyes. Danny removed his glasses, and awkwardly pulled the mask over with one hand, and replaced damaged frames on his face.

Armsmaster stood stiffly, and spoke once more.

"I understand that this has been a trying time, but please," at this, he handed off a small card to Danny, who accepted with only the barest hesitation, "contact me after you're recuperated. We have the resources to help you."

Taylor didn't deign to respond, but her father nodded slightly, and pocketed the card. Armsmaster gave an awkward nod, and walked off to join Miss Militia as the captives were taken away.

Free of the presence of the imposing Cape, the EMT's prepped Taylor for transfer. Carefully, she was lifted onto the waiting stretcher. The loss of contact with her father's ring caused her to gasp in shock at overwhelming sensations that had been held at bay, and left her groping wildly for the Steel she knew was near.

Her hand met the frame of the stretcher, and she once more blocked out the torturous pain with the cool rigidity of Steel.

As the stretcher was loaded into the ambulance, Danny stood by anxiously. "I'll be right behind you Taylor, okay?"

Taylor nodded weakly.

The doors were shut, and the ambulance was soon making good time down the streets to Brockton Bay General.

The journey passed in a blink, it seemed to Taylor, and they were soon wheeling her down the hall and into a room. Carefully, she was transferred to a bed, and more questions were asked to which Taylor answered to the best of her ability until her father arrived and took over.

Taylor laid back in the bed, staring at the ceiling and focusing on her steelsense, feeling the location of every blade and edge in her range and using the metal frame of her bed to keep the world at bay.

She knew it probably wasn't a good idea to be blocking out the world like she was, with new and unfamiliar powers that could have any number of effects.

But she didn't care. She didn't want to have to feel.

She was brought out of her disconnected haze by a hand, brushing against her forehead. Taylor blinked, and looked over to see her father staring at her worriedly, and smiled weakly. "Hey Dad."

"Hey kiddo. How are you feeling?" He had removed the loaned mask, and Taylor could see the worry creasing his brow.

She shrugged, and removed her scarf. "Like I got hit by a truck, and dragged along through a mile of bad road."

Danny grimaced. "Well, I'm told Panacea is in the building, and should be here soon."

As if summoned by those words, Panacea choose that moment to enter the room, white robes trailing behind her. The door closed shut behind her with a soft 'click'.

The premiere healer of Brockton Bay paused a moment, and appeared to take a deep breath, and strode across the room, clipboard in hand.

As the famed healer stopped at her bedside, Taylor thought to herself, 'She looks about how I feel.'

Under the robe, Panacea's shoulders were slumped, looking narrow and sharp even through the fabric. Frizzy strands of hair drifted out from under her hood and trailed along her face, occasionally to be blown out of the way. There were bags under her eyes, and her skin was the kind of pale you only see from stress or illness.

"Taylor…" she paused, and glanced at the clipboard, "Hebert?"

Taylor nodded, and Danny spoke up, "Yes. Thank you for coming for my little girl, Panacea. It means a lot."

The cape turned slightly towards him, and gave a noncommittal shrug. "It's what I do."

She faced Taylor once more, expression serious. "Do I have your permission to heal you?"

Taylor nodded once again, and extended one hand. "Yeah, thank you."

Panacea reached out and lightly touched the offered hand. Taylor didn't know what to expect, but certainly not for the cape to immediately flinch and gasp minutely.

Taylor giggled nervously at the reaction, and asked, "What's the damage, doc?"

"Three fractured ribs, multiple fractures in your right Humerus and both Ulna." Panacea paused for a moment, eyes widening slightly in surprise, before she continued unabated. "You've sprained your right Supraspinatus and left Teres Major, torn your left Meniscus and multiple locations in your Latissimus Dorsi, and you have a series of first and second degree burns on both your hands and forearms."

Taylor blinked, and looked to her dad. "Did you understand any of that? Because I only got about half of it."

Danny was white as a sheet, and had the arms of his chair in a white-knuckle grip.

Panacea gave her a flat look. "Frankly, you shouldn't even be lucid right now, the pain should have you incoherent."

Taylor gulped.

"How are you..." Panacea trailed off, staring at the scarf still around her neck as realization flashed behind her eyes. "I see."

A sensation of warmth swept over her, and Taylor felt her wounds mend, bones fusing together and muscles rebuilding.

"I had to use some of your body's natural stores of fat, so you'll be pretty hungry for the next few days at least. Get lots of protein and carbs, and drink plenty of water." She spoke as if reciting a well-practiced speech.

Taylor nodded thankfully, and relinquished her mental grasp on the Steel.

The aches and bright points of pain were gone, but there was little to do for the grief and anger that even now threatened to overcome her. Exhausted, she flopped backwards into the embrace of crisp hospital sheets.

Dimly, she heard her father and Panacea talking, and a moment later heard the door open and shut once more.

A hand stroked her hair, and she opened her eyes to see her father standing at her bedside. "I've got to take care of some things with the hospital, you go ahead and rest, okay Taylor?"

Taylor nodded slowly. "Okay. Love you Dad."

He gave a tired smile. "Love you too kiddo."

Danny turned and exited the room, leaving Taylor to her thoughts.

The PRT had captured Kaiser and Hookwolf, but the Merchants were still out there, and Armsmaster had yet to answer for his own part in her mother's death.

Taylor was going to rectify that. She had the power to do so at her fingertips.

She would make this right.

She would be an Avenger.


Not a hundred percent satisfied with it, but it doesn't do me any good sitting on my drive without critique. Next chapter is going to be from the Protectorate's perspective, and maybe a PHO interlude after that. Then things start shaking up as Avenger hits the streets.

*EDIT*

Armsmaster less of a dick, Taylor has her identity still secure (see first chapter for a small additional scene).
 
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Oh fuck yeah, Worm/Fate!

>avenger

oh fuck no
 
Yes.

EDIT: but srsly, Taylor is halfway to Mind of Steel by her intro, there's no way this can end well. She's firmly of the Emiya School of Heroism.
 
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Yes.

EDIT: but srsly, Taylor is halfway to Mind of Steel by her intro, there's no way this can end well. She's firmly of the Emiya School of Heroism.

I'll state this here and now then.

I love Worm, and Fate, and Warhammer, and plenty of other Grimdark and/or sad settings and stories.

But my writing will never be those. I am a firm believer in happy endings and the triumph of good.

Will things get dark? Certainly. Will the darkness consume all leaving only the weeping of the damned? Never.

Taylor is certainly going to be more than a little bit Mind of Steel. But it will not be the entirety of her character. Her return from just such a mindstate is going to be a driving plotpoint further down the story.
 
Well, I was under the impression that at best, we're just delaying Angel Notes, but if she can win in your crossover scenario, it'll be a blast.
 
Well, I was under the impression that at best, we're just delaying Angel Notes, but if she can win in your crossover scenario, it'll be a blast.

Taylor's got a lot of power, that's for sure. Definitely more than simple weapon creation and skill copying, if you read between the lines. But, much like in the source material, she alone won't be enough to save the world. It's going to take cooperation. I hope the trip will be as much of a blast as you predict.
 
A thought inspired by a fairly random post someone did on SB.com:

It could be interesting/amusing to see a villain taken down by someone saying "You aren't acting like the person Mr. Rogers knew you could be."

I could see Lisa or Dinah saying it to Bonesaw in a fairly serious fic, or somebody saying it to, for example, Hookwolf or Jack Slash, in a more comedic story.
 
A thought inspired by a fairly random post someone did on SB.com:

It could be interesting/amusing to see a villain taken down by someone saying "You aren't acting like the person Mr. Rogers knew you could be."

I could see Lisa or Dinah saying it to Bonesaw in a fairly serious fic, or somebody saying it to, for example, Hookwolf or Jack Slash, in a more comedic story.

*Yoink*

Clockblocker's got at least one line in the future now...
 
A pretty slow recovery snippet, probably going to rewrite it in the future, but I think it does an okay job of setting up Taylor's mental state and the damage done to her family.

Unbeta'd as usual.


Previous Chapter
Embrace of Steel, Part 3

Taylor Hebert laid on the sidewalk with her arms wrapped around herself, sobbing uncontrollably. As she curled into a ball, all she could think of was the look in her mother's eyes as she stood in the street with a lance jutting from her breast.

'Little Owl...'

Spasms wracked her body, and her sobbing was replaced by a hacking cough, violent enough to drive shards of new agony into her already tortured ribs.

Blood spattered the ground before her face.

She heard shuffling at her side. "Taylor, oh god Taylor!"

Taylor lifted her head, staring blearily at the figure kneeling beside her. "Daddy?"

He turned away to shout down the street, "I need some help over here!" Just like her dad to run into a battlefield, she thought.

"Dad? You need..." Her plea was interrupted by another round of spasms, and she coughed up even more blood. "...to run."

"Shh, shh, kiddo. It's okay." Her father placed one hand against her cheek, and gave her a watery smile. "You stopped them, they're down."

Taylor couldn't help but press into her father's hand. It was cool against her feverish skin, and the contact eased some of her ache. Danny shifted some to rest her head in his lap, and slowly stroked her hair, as she cradled her hands to her chest and cried tears of of grief and pain.

She felt warm droplets land on her head, and looked up to see her father crying tears of his own.

Taylor reached out and touched his hand, offering her own measure of comfort, and in doing so came into contact with Danny's wedding ring. On reflex, she imposed the order of metal upon her mind, numbing the pain and washing away the fatigue.

The gold band was less rigid, more malleable, than that of the Steel of the weapons she had wielded, but it would have to do.

Taylor shifted in place, and sat up to take in the scene around her.

PRT trucks had arrived, and were disgorging troops armed with containment foam, who swiftly emptied their tanks over the prone forms of Hookwolf and Kaiser, while Armsmaster and Miss Militia stood guard.

Ambulances were parked nearby, and Taylor observed stoically as a team cordoned off the area around her mother's body.

The memory of her mother's eyes flashed through her memory, and grief surged behind the Steel.

Her grip on her father's hand tightened fractionally.

A pair of EMT's arrived with a stretcher, and quickly began examining her and Danny while asking questions Taylor only paid partial notice to. The majority of her attention was instead focused on the approaching form of Armsmaster.

As the power-armored form of the local Protectorate leader drew closer, Taylor had to draw even further on the strength granted by her contact with the metal of her father's ring. They may have cooperated to end the battle, but Taylor had not forgotten Armsmaster's involvement in her mother's death.

The hero stopped a short distance away. Further than the reach of his Halberd, she noted with dark amusement. 'He's right to be cautious.'

"That was an admirable thing you did," he began, nodding towards the battlefield, "but incredibly reckless. You could have easily been injured beyond what you already are. Or worse."

If Taylor hadn't been regulating herself with her newfound power, she would've snapped then and there, and probably verbally assaulted the cape. Possibly even attacked him if she weren't crippled by the pain.

As it was, she decided to stick to pointed remarks. "Somebody had to step in before you let someone else get killed."

Armsmaster frowned heavily at that, and drew himself up, standing straighter to try and loom over her. She felt her father stiffen behind her, recognizing the behavior of a man about to start a tirade.

The situation was defused though, and Taylor spared the cape's self-righteousness, by one of the attending EMTs. "Unless you have something necessary," the man emphasized, "to say, then go away and stop antagonizing my patient. She shouldn't even be sitting up right now, let alone getting into arguments."

Armsmaster looked like he wanted to argue anyway, but Miss Militia chose that moment to arrive. "Sir?"

He turned his head slightly, not letting Taylor out of his view. Taylor simply stared flatly.

"Let's go." Armsmaster declared. With that, the Tinker turned and stalked away. Miss Militia hesitated a moment, giving Taylor and Danny a worried glance, before she followed.

"Prick," muttered the EMT who had spoken up, as he readied the stretcher next to her. Taylor felt more than heard her father snort, and she glanced up at him.

Danny Hebert looked like hell. Blood had seeped from a light wound on his forehead, and had traced a path down the side of his face. One lens in his glasses had cracked, and the frame sat askew. Tears and holes spotted his shirt, and the man had somehow lost a boot.

But he was alive. Taylor knew it could have been so much worse, that she could have lost not only her mother, but her father too. Any number of things could have happened, but she still had him.

Taylor gave Danny's hand another squeeze, and he reciprocated. They still had eachother.

The moment was ended, however, when the EMT's had to load her onto the waiting stretcher. The loss of contact with her father's ring caused her to gasp in shock at overwhelming sensations that had been held at bay, and left her groping wildly for the Steel she knew was near.

Her hand met the frame of the stretcher, and she once more blocked out the torturous pain with the cool rigidity of Steel.

As the stretcher was loaded into the ambulance, Danny stood by anxiously. "I'll be right behind you Taylor, okay?"

Taylor nodded weakly.

The doors were shut, and the ambulance was soon making good time down the streets to Brockton Bay General.

The journey passed in a blink, it seemed to Taylor, and they were soon wheeling her down the hall and into a room. Carefully, she was transferred to a bed, and more questions were asked to which Taylor answered to the best of her ability until her father arrived and took over.

Taylor laid back in the bed, staring at the ceiling and focusing on her steelsense, feeling the location of every blade and edge in her range and using the metal frame of her bed to keep the world at bay.

She knew it probably wasn't a good idea to be blocking out the world like she was, with new and unfamiliar powers that could have any number of effects.

But she didn't care. She didn't want to have to feel.

She was brought out of her disconnected haze by a hand, brushing against her forehead. Taylor blinked, and looked over to see her father staring at her worriedly, and smiled weakly. "Hey Dad."

"Hey kiddo. How are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "Like I got hit by a truck, and dragged along through a mile of bad road."

Danny grimaced. "Well, I'm told Panacea is in the building, and should be here soon."

As if summoned by those words, Panacea choose that moment to enter the room, white robes trailing behind her. The door closed shut behind her with a soft 'click'.

The premiere healer of Brockton Bay paused a moment, and appeared to take a deep breath, and strode across the room, clipboard in hand.

As the famed healer stopped at her bedside, Taylor thought to herself, 'She looks about how I feel.'

Under the robe, Panacea's shoulders were slumped, looking narrow and sharp even through the fabric. Frizzy strands of hair drifted out from under her hood and trailed along her face, occasionally to be blown out of the way. There were bags under her eyes, and her skin was the kind of pale you only see from stress or illness.

"Taylor…" she paused, and glanced at the clipboard, "Hebert?"

Taylor nodded, and Danny spoke up, "Yes. Thank you for coming for my little girl, Panacea. It means a lot."

The cape turned slightly towards him, and gave a noncommittal shrug. "It's why I'm here."

She faced Taylor once more, expression serious. "Do I have your permission to heal you?"

Taylor nodded once again, and extended one hand. "Yeah, thank you."

Panacea reached out and lightly touched the offered hand. Taylor didn't know what to expect, but certainly not for the cape to immediately flinch and gasp minutely.

Taylor giggled nervously at the reaction, and asked, "What's the damage, doc?"

"Three fractured ribs, multiple fractures in your right Humerus and both Ulna." Panacea paused for a moment, eyes widening slightly in surprise, before she continued unabated. "You've sprained your right Supraspinatus and left Teres Major, torn your left Meniscus and multiple locations in your Latissimus Dorsi, and you have a series of first and second degree burns on both your hands and forearms."

Taylor blinked, and looked to her dad. "Did you understand any of that? Because I only got about half of it."

Danny was white as a sheet, and had the arms of his chair in a white-knuckle grip.

Panacea gave her a flat look. "Frankly, you shouldn't even be lucid right now, the pain should have you incoherent."

Taylor gulped.

"How are you..." Panacea trailed off, and realization flashed behind her eyes. "I see."

A sensation of warmth swept over her, and Taylor felt her wounds mend, bones fusing together and muscles rebuilding.

"I had to use some of your body's natural stores of fat, so you'll be pretty hungry for the next few days at least. Get lots of protein and carbs, and drink plenty of water." She spoke as if reciting a well-practiced speech.

Taylor nodded thankfully, and relinquished her mental grasp on the Steel.

The aches and bright points of pain were gone, but there was little to do for the grief and anger that even now threatened to overcome her. Exhausted, she flopped backwards into the embrace of crisp hospital sheets.

Dimly, she heard her father and Panacea talking, and a moment later heard the door open and shut once more.

A hand stroked her hair, and she opened her eyes to see her father standing at her bedside. "I've got to take care of some things with the hospital, you go ahead and rest, okay Taylor?"

Taylor nodded slowly. "Okay. Love you Dad."

He gave a tired smile. "Love you too kiddo."

Danny turned and exited the room, leaving Taylor to her thoughts.

The PRT had captured Kaiser and Hookwolf, but the Merchants were still out there, and Armsmaster had yet to answer for his own part in her mother's death.

Taylor was going to rectify that. She had the power to do so at her fingertips.

She would make this right.

She would be an Avenger.

Not a hundred percent satisfied with it, but it doesn't do me any good sitting on my drive without critique. Next chapter is going to be from the Protectorate's perspective, and maybe a PHO interlude after that. Then things start shaking up as Avenger hits the streets.

Why was Armsmaster ready to get into a triad with an obviously injured 13 year old girl? I know Armsmaster's social skills get over flanderlized in fanon but that just seems like a dick move and not to mention bad PR. Something he would be aware of. Plus it would limit the chances of said chances of the girl ever joining the wards, especially since she seems like a powerful parahuman.

Honestly, it is like you are trying to set up Armsmaster to be as much of a dick as possible so Taylor goes down a darker road then her canon self.

But meh, story is still interesting so far.

Taylor was also right that they got her mom killed. But sadly that had to happen sometimes.
 
Why was Armsmaster ready to get into a triad with an obviously injured 13 year old girl? I know Armsmaster's social skills get over flanderlized in fanon but that just seems like a dick move and not to mention bad PR. Something he would be aware of. Plus it would limit the chances of said chances of the girl ever joining the wards, especially since she seems like a powerful parahuman.

Honestly, it is like you are trying to set up Armsmaster to be as much of a dick as possible so Taylor goes down a darker road then her canon self.

But meh, story is still interesting so far.

Taylor was also right that they got her mom killed. But sadly that had to happen sometimes.

Thanks for the feedback, this sort of stuff is exactly what I'm looking for.

This is right around canon start, so Taylor is actually almost 16 now. Armsmaster being a dick was probably a bit over the top, and will be toned down in revisions, but he was also just upstaged by an unknown and then called out on negligence by said unknown - who is a young girl who obviously doesn't know better and should be quiet.

He is going to be in a bit of trouble for his bluster in the Protectorate interlude, but I'll have it toned down by then to be less belligerent and more dismissive.

Taylor probably wasn't going to be joining the Wards at the start regardless of Armsy's behavior though. They would restrict her too much, and she know they'd never let her go after the Merchants the way she wants to. Vigilantism is where it's at for Avenger.
 
Thanks for the feedback, this sort of stuff is exactly what I'm looking for.

This is right around canon start, so Taylor is actually almost 16 now. Armsmaster being a dick was probably a bit over the top, and will be toned down in revisions, but he was also just upstaged by an unknown and then called out on negligence by said unknown - who is a young girl who obviously doesn't know better and should be quiet.

He is going to be in a bit of trouble for his bluster in the Protectorate interlude, but I'll have it toned down by then to be less belligerent and more dismissive.

Taylor probably wasn't going to be joining the Wards at the start regardless of Armsy's behavior though. They would restrict her too much, and she know they'd never let her go after the Merchants the way she wants to. Vigilantism is where it's at for Avenger.

Np.

Honestly Taylor has no secret identity. If she does go vigilante she will have no protection for all sorts of things. Like people going after her father to make an example of or whatever.


But it honestly makes sense that this Taylor would be making some bad decisions in the near future.
 
Actually, recalling the early chapters of Worm it would be fanon Armsmaster that would show some respect and back down for the moment. Canon Armsmaster was not adorkably unaware... He was an asshole. He was usually right but that didn't make him any less of an asshole. Hell his second meeting with Skitter he starts out ripping into her because his plan to steal the glory of taking down Lung backfired because of his negligence. And when she asked for official protection for her undercover work, actually now that I think about it she basically would have been a pretty typical CI at this point, he not only denied her but proceeded to go on a long rant about how she was being a stupid little shit of a teenager. Again, he was right that doesn't make it less of a dick move.

So to me, if what he was about to say was technically right just incredibly dickish in form and timing... Yeah, that's canon Armsy.
 
Np.

Honestly Taylor has no secret identity. If she does go vigilante she will have no protection for all sorts of things. Like people going after her father to make an example of or whatever.


But it honestly makes sense that this Taylor would be making some bad decisions in the near future.

Actually, Taylor's identity is still a mite secure. The only ones to see her face were Hookwolf, Kaiser, and the Heroes and EMTs. The Merchants were preoccupied with Mush bleeding out and Miss Militia's counter assault, and Kaiser and Hookwolf are both in custody.

Might add in a bit about her obscuring her face in future revisions though. It's something to consider.

Actually, recalling the early chapters of Worm it would be fanon Armsmaster that would show some respect and back down for the moment. Canon Armsmaster was not adorkably unaware... He was an asshole. He was usually right but that didn't make him any less of an asshole. Hell his second meeting with Skitter he starts out ripping into her because his plan to steal the glory of taking down Lung backfired because of his negligence. And when she asked for official protection for her undercover work, actually now that I think about it she basically would have been a pretty typical CI at this point, he not only denied her but proceeded to go on a long rant about how she was being a stupid little shit of a teenager. Again, he was right that doesn't make it less of a dick move.

So to me, if what he was about to say was technically right just incredibly dickish in form and timing... Yeah, that's canon Armsy.

Armsmaster is indeed a dick, but his first appearance does show him having a least a little sense. Gloryhounding a bit, what with convincing the new cape to give up her claim to a significant capture, but not total asshole. Only after shit blows up in his face does he go full buttnugget. I'll be toning him down a touch.
 
Actually, recalling the early chapters of Worm it would be fanon Armsmaster that would show some respect and back down for the moment. Canon Armsmaster was not adorkably unaware... He was an asshole. He was usually right but that didn't make him any less of an asshole. Hell his second meeting with Skitter he starts out ripping into her because his plan to steal the glory of taking down Lung backfired because of his negligence. And when she asked for official protection for her undercover work, actually now that I think about it she basically would have been a pretty typical CI at this point, he not only denied her but proceeded to go on a long rant about how she was being a stupid little shit of a teenager. Again, he was right that doesn't make it less of a dick move.

So to me, if what he was about to say was technically right just incredibly dickish in form and timing... Yeah, that's canon Armsy.


They just got done with a fight, not only that but it's the fight she triggered in and they know as everyone involved seriously lost time and fell abit.

Seriously.

Showing up or bullshit shouldn't be anywhere on the docket at all. I mean she's there on the ground huddling with her dad for pete's sake. And there are car wreck and impaled bodies.


It should be are you okay. Here have masks or get in this trust while the cape Met get there.


His first appearance is him being reasonable and trying to look out for a new para. Stealing the glory of a capture? More like keeping her from painting a target on her back without a team.

In the second meeting he doesn't blowup just because of lung. No he blows up because of Lung in combination with Taylor telling him that she'd joined a supervillain, gave them her face, and wanted him to let her pull off a felony while telling him nothing of use.

And the second about letting her go from crashing the fundraiser of a victims of a bombing.
 
They just got done with a fight, not only that but it's the fight she triggered in and they know as everyone involved seriously lost time and fell abit.

Seriously.

Showing up or bullshit shouldn't be anywhere on the docket at all. I mean she's there on the ground huddling with her dad for pete's sake. And there are car wreck and impaled bodies.


It should be are you okay. Here have masks or get in this trust while the cape Met get there.


His first appearance is him being reasonable and trying to look out for a new para. Stealing the glory of a capture? More like keeping her from painting a target on her back without a team.

In the second meeting he doesn't blowup just because of lung. No he blows up because of Lung in combination with Taylor telling him that she'd joined a supervillain, gave them her face, and wanted him to let her pull off a felony while telling him nothing of use.

And the second about letting her go from crashing the fundraiser of a victims of a bombing.

You're not wrong, and I am going to be changing it some to have Armsmaster act more believable. There's no impaled bodies (not counting Annette) though, and only Danny managed to wreck. Everyone else got the hell out of Dodge right quick.

In general, I'm also doing some other revisions to include a bit for Taylor to protect her identity, and other small changes. I'll probably begin my own thread for this for the next chapter, if anyone is willing to beta for me. Knowledge of Fate is not required.
 
Revisions have been made to the previous snippets, primarily through the Armsmaster section of the third snippet. Hopefully, this time I got him right. That, and Taylor now has a nice red scarf to improvise a balaclava with!

Wish I'd thought of it earlier, to be honest.

Incidentally, does anyone happen to know what the extent of Cape travel there was for Endbringer fights? Like, would say New Wave show at a battle on the western seaboard, or British capes at an African battle? I'm fuzzy on who outside of the Triumvirate and Dragon appear at every battle.

Input on the revisions would be much appreciated!
 

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