A knock at the door. He'd see to it soon, just needed to finish making notes about how he could make his now-numerous power armour energy cores provide energy for some extra upgrades while still being detachable to plug into other equipment. Like to give his hoverboard a boost or –
Another knock. He should answer that… Oh that's where his designs for the Alternator Cannon went. Man, he'd been working on that weeks ago. Now he could see so many ways to integrate the cannon's barrels, targeting system, and power sources into other gear. The original plans described mounting it on the hoverboard, but the real breakthrough there was the teleporting components! Why make this big bulky suit when he could have any amount of devices on hand?
Wait. Both. Hah!
No, stop knocking. He'd answer the door later this was a breakthrough. Again! Times two – no stuff maths, what did Dennis say? Ah. Breakthrough Two, electric boogaloo. Dennis tried a bit hard sometimes, but he was a good guy. Maybe he should make something for everyone on the team? After his large armour and all its teleporting modules, naturally.
"Chris!" He jumped and the hand on his shoulder withdrew. Who had snuck inside his workshop?
Oh. Miss Militia. The army-fatigues and American flag wearing woman was standing a conscious distance away from all of his cluttered, uncategorised worktables. He should really sort all that out.
Even Chris himself didn't know where everything was. Although on that table behind her he'd left one of the failed pistols from when he thought his speciality might be laser guns. It hadn't worked; in design or creation. But he could make it work now! Oh! Shoulder mounted laser!
Excellent. He brushed past Miss Militia and picked up the failed weapon, quickly pulling apart handle for space where a universal port could link to a larger system. Hand on his shoulder again. This was important! He was being a proper tinker now.
"Chris!" Two hands on his shoulders turned him to face the Protectorate member. The one who'd just tried to get his attention. Right.
Chris felt a sheepish look spread over his face. He put the half-disassembled pistol down. "Uh, hey. What's happening?"
He'd been around long enough to tell that the smile only half her face displayed was exasperated. At least she didn't roll her eyes.
"Aegis, Gallant, and Seneschal are back from patrol." Her voice lost its amusement. "There's a debrief upstairs. We need you since you made some of Seneschal's equipment."
That made sense. Chris grabbed his visor, not bothering to put the rest of his armour on over the red and gold bodysuit he was wearing. The armour was being 'worked on' anyway, so wearing it would be uncomfortably pointy and would put the fusion reactors at risk.
The only other Wards in the base were Clockblocker and Vista. Dennis was in full costume, protocol even when on console. He was lying back, slumped against the couch and rubbing his temples. He looked up to see Chris. "They've dragged you into this too? Great." His featureless white mask thumped back on the cushion and Chris realised the temple-rubbing motion had actually been facepalming.
Vista was also in full costume. She was frowning slightly in a way that was close to a pout – not that Chris would ever admit it out loud. Missy was young, but she'd been a Ward longer than him. And he was pretty sure she could beat him up or twist his hoverboard into a pretzel if she wanted. And Missy looked frustrated, which increased the chance of arms getting punched.
Chris looked between his fellow Wards and wondered if he'd missed anything while tinkering.
Miss Militia paused by the door to the greater PRT building. "Kid Win, Clockblocker, lets not keep the debrief waiting."
"Wait what? Why not me?" Missy's frown had deepened, but looked less like a pout now.
"Clockblocker was on Console during the patrol and Kid Win made the equipment involved in the incident." Miss Militia hadn't mentioned an incident before. Chris guessed something had happened in the northern Docks. Or Trainyard. Or the Market.
Vista stepped forwards, warping space to cover the room in one movement. "So I'm just left down here? Because I'm not involved? If we're debriefing Seneschal I should be there. I've got the most experience, I can give her advice." Missy was indignant but her sundress-based costume made it very hard to ignore that she was thirteen.
Miss Militia tilted her head, the American flag scarf shifting against her shoulder. "That's fair. And you would learn everything afterwards. Alright, but let's get a move on." She led the way out of the Wards Base and into the PRT's tinkertech elevator.
Chris thought about Seneschal. Taylor. The girl was a year older than him, but more than a few inches taller than him. And maybe slightly taller than his dad when she stood straight. Which she only did in costume. Chris hadn't seen her much last week, after she'd joined. Taylor had been dragged into meetings and consults and trainings with the Image department. Plus meetings with finance and lots of general things with Deputy Director Renick.
Honestly, they ran her through so much bureaucracy that Chris was surprised she kept turning up. She'd been set up incredibly quickly compared to his onboarding. Or compared to all the others who'd been on the team with Chris. It was like they wanted her in every system as soon as possible. But they also wanted her announced ASAP too.
But Chris had been too busy tinkering – finally, properly, tinkering! – last week (and this week) that he hadn't interacted with her too much. He'd refurbished a taser for her and added some tinkertech to her visor as a thanks for the boost and as a welcome present.
But he should spend some time chatting. Or at least talking tactics. Maybe she had heard of the war games his sort-of friends at Arcadia played.
The bits of Taylor that Chris had seen supported the rumour that she had history with Shadow Stalker. Taylor watched the room in a way that most Wards didn't do until they'd had a few fights with actual capes. She could also stare at you, taking way too long to blink, until you finally had to say something.
So, Chris could definitely see her beating Shadow Stalker in a fight. when they'd had Ward meetings or patrol briefings, Taylor would usually get this distant look in her eye. Like she was examining things no one else could see.
In costume, it was… more. Her eyes were hidden, so he could only focus on the particular tone in her voice. Not distracted, not quite curious, not knowing; the best word was mysterious.
But he also remembered how freaked out Taylor had been when she'd first met them. He'd rushed off to his workshop and only realised something had happened when Miss Militia came in to ask him questions about what was happening.
Because Shadow Stalker had done something bad enough that the rest of the team just nodded darkly when the news that she was in juvie.
But Chris knew that for all her quirks, Taylor was just another Ward. Maybe a little lonelier, according to a quiet chat with Gallant. But she got annoyed at shallow patrols and PR events, she liked figuring things out about her power, and she wanted to be a hero. Having had to put up with Shadow Stalker, Chris would get along just fine with Taylor.
[>[>---<]<]
The conference room they were using to debrief was out of the way. Miss Militia left them at the open door of a medium-sized room with a long central table. Piggot was sitting on one end, not looking up from her laptop as Chris, Dennis, and Missy entered. Dauntless was looking out of a window opposite the door. His gold armour reflected onto the window, the view outside being too dark and the conference room bright.
Missy sped up to sit next to Seneschal, who sat at the table opposite Piggot. Taylor was still in her costume, with one sleeve torn at the bicep and wearing only a basic domino mask. Her visor was sitting on the table near Piggot. Chris hoped it hadn't malfunctioned. That would explain why Clockblocker still looked done with the day. Although Dennis hadn't sent any looks at him.
If the visor needed repairs, Chris could fit that in. No extra features, since the tinker review board and their stupid paperwork would want everything documented. Maybe if he incorporated his hoverboard into the new armour – maybe attaching to the boots – then he could use the 'upgrade equipment' form rather than the 'new invention' form.
Dauntless stepped away from the window opposite the door, taking a chair close to the Director. His face was heavy. Aegis and Gallant filled out that side of the table, and Dennis had taken the chair next to Missy. Chris sat next to Piggot and tried to figure out if he was going to be in trouble.
Missy was practically whispering to Taylor, who was frowning, hunched forwards in her chair with arms crossed. She looked up and her eyes were wet, but she wasn't crying. Her shoulders raised higher, and her expression tightened, before her whole body sort of… relaxed. Like she got to a certain level of stress and reset.
Chris had seen her do this once or twice. A few days after she apparently fought Sophia, which, like… he hadn't liked Sophia. No one had liked Sophia. But Taylor really hadn't liked Sophia. For some reason only Aegis (and maybe Vista) knew.
Another thing. Taylor seemed to prefer her code name sometimes. Chris wasn't really sure why, but he was super glad she was on the team and wasn't going to question it. Her power boost didn't help everyone equally – it was a bit weird actually, but he didn't question that either – yet Chris owed his current productivity to the new Ward.
Before she joined, he'd been struggling. He'd gotten powers, wonderful powers, powers that let him be like the hero good enough to name himself Hero. But he'd still had his problems. School wasn't easy. Still wasn't but he could deal now. The distractions, the forgetting things, losing track of time and meeting and conversations. He still had all of those things, but he was a real tinker now!
Distractions didn't lead in endless spirals – he found a tangent and pursued it to its glorious ideas. A moment to think about what he'd forgotten, and everything came back, even what he forgot about forgetting. Chris did still lose track of time, which was a problem. But he could get so focused now! Instead of being adrift in frustration and things never quite working, he was being productive! Actually tinkering!
"Debriefing for Ward patrol on Friday the 18th of March, 2011. I am PRT ENE Director Emily Piggot, with Wards Aegis, Gallant, Clockblocker, and Seneschal being on the patrol in question, with Clockblocker on Console. Protectorate member Dauntless was called in for engagement. Wards Kid Win and Vista and Protectorate member Miss Militia are in attendance for… consultation and training purposes." Piggot began the patrol debrief as she always did, meeting everyone's eyes in an almost glare – except for the Protectorate members.
Chris listened as the Director asked Aegis to debrief. Carlos was really good with the procedure stuff. Also good at going over what had happened and figuring out ways to be better. Gallant was better at cheering everyone up, but then he had always known what to say.
After Taylor first met the team and then spent three days in a coma, Chris' fellow Wards had been… unsettled. Carlos kept checking in with everyone. Dean spent time with Glory Girl – Vicky – until they had a breakup. Dennis kept joking and playing video games but went quiet when he thought no one was nearby. And Missy slept on base for a few nights and apparently spent most of her time in the training room.
Piggot started questioning Taylor, who had been teleporting around the patrol area. Carlos and Dean looked at her when she said it was because most crimes aren't called in while they're happening. That was smart actually. Maybe Chris could make a sensor module to scan for heightened heartbeats. He'd just have to make a filter for non-criminal activities like… exercise. Yes. Exercise.
Seneschal's first patrol sounded pretty calm. She sounded faintly frustrated that she hadn't found any criminals, which reminded Chris of his early time in the Wards. Or of Missy in general.
Right, they'd returned past the Trainyard. Maybe some Merchants had been high and lashed out after being arrested. Chris had certainly been surprised by the frank stupidity of Merchants that just forgot about self-preservation. That would explain the cut on Taylor's arm. Only a little red, so hopefully just tiny reminder to keep up situational awareness.
An extra sensor module would be great for that too. Maybe one with an alternate mode for automatic targeting? Chris should have bought a notebook.
"Fine. That's justified. And not why we're here." Piggot flicked through something on her laptop. "From the chain of command, what happened in the Trainyard. Aegis, then Dauntless. Clockblocker can comment."
The tale that followed was more than Chris could have imagined. He hadn't run into a villain for the first month of deep patrols. For Seneschal to find a hostage situation with a villain cape (even if it was Mush) was crazy!
But then Skidmark was there too. And the hostages were drugged up Merchants.
Dauntless took over, explaining how he and Carlos had taken Mush down, how Dean had dealt with the goons, and Seneschal had focused on Skidmark. But Skidmark got away – with Squealer!
And Seneschal had – Chris didn't know if he was more shocked, worried, or impressed – teleported in front of a tinkertech dump-truck! He could only stare at Taylor (no this was Seneschal) as she lost that distracted look and visibly focused on Dauntless, who faltered while explaining how he noticed her kneeling in the Trainyard next to the sparking wreck. After no one could find her for nearly five minutes.
"Hahaha!" Chris jumped at the sudden laughter as Clockblocker mimed wiping tears away from his eyes. "They totally got your name wrong." He then straightened and spread his arms. "Wrong Hood, stealing from the Merchants, giving to the government! Or, better, Highwaywoman! Will take your high, will rob your way, will… no that's sexist. Damn."
Piggot stared at Chris' fellow Ward with a look that would have made Chris melt faster than an unstable fusion core. Dennis only shrugged apologetically.
"Sorry but that's too funny to leave alone. Seneschal: 1, Truck: 0. Also I thought jokes involving the word dump-truck would be too much, so you're all welcome."
Chris and the rest of the Wards – including Taylor – groaned. However, the new Ward's uncertain grin fell at Piggot's next words.
"The crash you find so funny has paralysed Skidmark from the waist down and left Squealer with an amputated leg. On top of general trauma and possible brain damage."
Chris felt his face drop. The villains were… well, villains. They needed to be stopped. And such a decisive arrest hadn't been made since he joined the Wards as Kid Win in late 2009.
Piggot continued. "The press will be told that Dauntless captured Mush and Squealer while the Wards managed Skidmark and the human gang members."
"But Dauntless only arrived halfway through!" Vista had sat up, indignant. Seneschal had that distracted air but her eyes were narrowed and wide mouth pressed thin.
"Are you asking the Youth Guard to investigate your hours and allowed engagements? Because you are not welcome to limit everyone to PR events for a year." Piggot's words made Vista clench her fists and bite back a scoff. "Especially with the mess we'll be facing soon."
Dauntless had closed his eyes with Piggot's last statement. Chris didn't know why he was unhappy with things. Dauntless had taken down a gang – or helped to at least.
"Seneschal. Tell me what you did wrong in this engagement." The Director straightened in her seat even further, wincing, but not dropping eye contact with the now-contrite Ward for a second.
Taylor's voice was surprisingly confident, if somehow also absent-minded. "I didn't tell the team what I was doing."
"You did not inform anyone of a reckless plan that put your life in direct danger and grievously injured others." Piggot's tone was stone; unforgiving. "What were your other mistakes?"
Taylor's eyes drifted across the room. "I did not wait for the team to be ready before engaging." Her brown eyes widened and her shoulders sagged, which was the first clear bit of body language Chris had seen her express tonight. "I turned off my comms." Her voice was bitter, without the distracted or intense notes he'd heard before.
Piggot sighed. It was an angry noise. "Kid Win, did you add that feature to Seneschal's visor?"
"Uh." He had to focus. Remember. Think. "Probably. I made sure every feature worked with jaw commands." He'd added a lot to Seneschal's visor. Then upgraded his own.
"Are you aware that Seneschal did not only disable her comms before engaging," the Director glared at Taylor, "which is only ever done when radio silence protocols are in effect, but that her comms were entirely disconnected from the network."
Oh. He reached for the visor to figure out how that might have happened. Piggot put a pale, swollen-knuckled hand on the visor to stop him. "This will be submitted to the tinker review board, as it should have been." She glared at him, and he pulled his hand back, trying not to flinch under her eyes. "Tinkertech cannot be filed under standard equipment forms. Not even Dauntless uses those."
A visor was standard equipment, so Chris thought it had been justified. He hadn't added any scanners or whatever Armsmaster crammed into his helmet! But Piggot was the dictionary definition of strict, so arguing wouldn't be worth the loss of tinkering time.
"Seneschal." Chris felt a little guilty at his relief from the Director focusing back on Taylor. "Your biggest mistake, and the one you've forgotten, was disobeying a clear command." The newest Ward started to physically bristle, but Piggot bulldozed on. "You are in a chain of command. As a hero, you have the right to arrest criminals. We have to trust that you will act responsibly with the power you have. That involves not charging in blindly. That involves minimising collateral damage." Dauntless nodded. "And most importantly, that means listening to the people who know what they are doing." Piggot finished in the same growling tone she'd used the entire debrief.
"Mush was planning to hurt people. There was a crime in progress, and we didn't know the victims weren't innocent! Even if we knew it was just unconscious Merchants, who are we to decide who gets saved?" Chris had never seen Taylor argue with anyone before. She was blunt, but her words made sense.
"Who are you to decide when we fight?" Piggot fired back immediately. "Every cape likes to think they're special. But who are you to go over your patrol leader, over the commanding Protectorate member, to decide things?"
Taylor froze. Literally. Halfway through putting her hands on the table. Some of her hair had partly fallen forwards over her shoulders. It, like the rest of her body, was utterly motionless. After a few seconds, then she sagged backwards and looked away from Piggot.
The Director sat back as well. Continued speaking with the faintest hint of satisfaction. "All tinkertech equipment needs to be evaluated, so leave the taser when you go. For disobeying orders, console duty for a fortnight. I'd give you a month, but your unthinking actions did result in the capture of an entire gang's leadership. You're getting a pay cut though, because the other gangs are going to start a war over the territory and drug trade and that's going to ruin enough of my budget as is."
Chris felt a chill run down his spine. The mood in the room, terse already, dropped like a trapdoor waterslide into artic waters. A gang war. Shit. Chris knew Brockton Bay was in a stalemate, but removing a gang should make things better, right?
"Dismissed." Director Piggot was unfazed by the response to her proclamation.
[>[>---<]<]
None of the Wards had talked while they returned to base. The underground chamber was dimly lit, a reminder that it was night by now. They all stood around in the central area. The console blinked a few times. The TV was off. Chris felt like someone should say something, but he was also remembering the ideas for a sensor module and integrating the Alternator Cannon into his armour – the issue Seneschal had with Mush not staying tasered was a common problem when dealing with changers.
"Let's get changed. And Taylor, have you put anything on that cut? The first aid kit has band aids. I know it looks small but Merchants are dirty." Dean pulled his knight-themed helmet off. He looked tired, but not unhappy.
Taylor looked at her arm. "No, this needs stitches."
"What?!" Missy said what Chris was thinking.
"Something inside the truck cut into my arm when I warped out. It didn't get to the bone and the muscle has contracted to close it up, but the skin is still split." Taylor calmly explained her injury.
Chris realised that she hadn't moved that arm much during the debrief or while they'd been walking.
"I don't know if that's really disturbing or bloody metal." Dennis also said what Chris was thinking. "Wait no, bloody metal is the dump truck you dumped." Everyone groaned what Chris was thinking.
"Okay. Too much has happened tonight. Get changed, go home. We'll talk about all this on the weekend." Aegis had some injuries as well, now that Chris was looking. It was easy to think of Taylor as having her own powers. It wasn't like she got the other Ward's powers exactly. Missy was the one interested in the power stuff though. And Vicky, when Dean invited her to the Wards base.
Chris watched Missy drag Taylor to the younger girl's room. Missy apparently knew enough about first aid to say that arm wounds were much easier to stitch than stomach ones. Weird.
Chris looked at his workshop. He could start tinkering again so easily. But Aegis was right. The debrief had been a lot more than Chris had expected, and his parents were probably waiting for him at home. And he hadn't had dinner.
But he could take a notebook home. And there should be enough time to get his new armour and other inventions done before the gangs started fighting.
My morning run had changed slightly in the past three weeks. Missy – [Vista] – had introduced me to one of the PRT's trainers. Some of them had qualifications for child athletes, to make sure the Wards stayed in shape. I'd gotten the sense it was meant so that we looked good in costume, but since my only feminine feature was my hair, I did the training to, well, train.
So, my run had become a little more optimised for combat training. Sprints now peppered my jog. And my route had changed to end at a nicer park with exercise equipment. The whole thing left me a lot more tired for the first week, but I could feel my progress. And the trainer was going to start teaching me self-defence soon!
The new route meant I left the Docks quickly, entering the area by the foreshore that was more regularly patrolled by the PRT (and as such, more affluent). Going between the areas of the city this morning made me aware of demographics in a… novel way.
I'd slept in. Partly because it was a weekend, and I could. Mostly because getting into an actual cape fight with the Merchants was a lot more tiring than I'd expected. My power from Aegis let me 'keep going' for lack of a better word. But 'keeping going' after adrenaline crashes and arm wounds meant my body was very ready for sleep once I got it.
Anyway, I was running later than I usually was. And being lighter with the exercise – arm wound and all. This meant that I noticed different behaviour in different sections of the city.
Where I lived, people were discussing the arrest of the Merchants in terms of what the other gangs would do. That had made me think more about what the Director said. The Merchants territory had been the shantytown around the Trainyard and Boat Graveyard. They'd kept it really only because the ABB and Empire hadn't wanted it. But the Merchants had always attacked whichever gang was attacking the other. Or being attacked by the other. Ugh – they'd attacked opportunistically.
The Merchants being gone was good. Them and their drugs had been a plague on the already vulnerable and downtrodden of my city. But the few people talking outside the supermarket in my relatively safer suburb of the Docks were as worried about what the major gangs would do without that threat, however minor. Thankfully, they were also glad about the massive arrest. I knew I'd done the right thing overall, but the affirmation was helpful.
In contrast to my suburb, jogging along the hero-protected area and Boardwalk exposed me to excited cape geeks (of a surprisingly wide range of age) talking about how cool it was that Dauntless, their home town hero, had almost single-handedly arrested a whole gang.
I also heard much approval of the government from people who'd obviously never not been protected by it. And one batch of tourists who were only just discovering that, yes, that major arrest of three capes was only Brockton Bay's smallest gang.
All three grated a little: naïve groupies or PHO posters, the privileged, and idiots who hadn't researched their holiday. But my month of introspection and trying to figure out my power was very helpful in pointing out that I was really irritated at their hope. Or faith. Idealism?
Bah.
I was officially a hero. And I'd been in an actual fight. Two even. One with another 'official' hero. The Wards were teenagers, not perfect junior Protectorate members.
The Protectorate were… still really cool. I wasn't blind to my hero-worship when I'd met Armsmaster (but he was Armsmaster! Chris told me he regularly worked with Dragon. Dragon!) Miss Militia let me know that the Protectorate were still human, still had struggles. Had even been Wards themselves. Thought that was surreal to consider – even for Triumph, who had been Brockton Bay's Ward Leader only last year.
Thinking the heroes were perfect and would save the day was… I guess flattering, now I was one of them. But still, living with that attitude in Brockton Bay was as dumb as those tourists I'd overheard. Seriously. I was pretty sure we only got on national news when a gang did something – usually the Empire being a beacon for Neo-Nazi pricks everywhere – or thanks to Panacea.
Besides, having one of your bullies be on the hero team you're joining really hammers home the truth. No one will save you. Don't expect anyone to help you. Take all the good you can get. Lessons I really thought I'd learned before.
A vindictive part of me was happy that no one was talking about the PRT. Which wasn't fair to the agents – actually taking the Merchants to cells and having proper containment for the capes was vital. But the whole organisation, even if it had done me some good and some people were nice, reminded me too much of Winslow's uncaring authority.
Especially the Director. I knew why the other Wards didn't like her. She made no pretences about not liking us. But she was logical and gave reasons for things that made sense, even if her choices were unfair. I'd rather a sick stubborn hard-ass than Principal Blackwell, who'd been a cruel bitch because money, apparently.
I jogged along. The people around me were happy. Calm. Probably even a little relieved from the news.
I pushed into a sprint and kept at it till the lactic acid build-up started impacting my cells. My power from Aegis was both good and bad for my training. Cause that's what I was really doing. Even before becoming a Ward. Training. Because I was going to be a hero – was a hero – and there were assholes who would prey on innocents. I had to stand in their way. I had to be ready.
[>[>/^\<]<]
After a few city blocks, phone buzzed. Which felt more than weird. I'd barely gotten used to carrying the thing everywhere in case something happened. Now it was going to vibrate in my pocket when I got a text? Getting a text was new enough.
I checked it, wiping the screen clean. I'd bought actual sports clothes with my first Wards pay check in a giddy moment. But I'd bought the cheap ones because I was still getting used to the fact that this money would be regular. Anyway, my phone got sweaty.
The text was from Missy, as expected. She'd been the first person to text me after making plans to meet up last night. Patrol schedule updates didn't count, I'd decided. And awkward phone calls with dad were… phone calls.
She'd sent me a description of where she was on the Boardwalk. I quickly checked the map app (DragonTech, since people didn't trust normal GPS after that one Simurgh attack where she pulled a satellite into an Indian town). Missy was nearby.
Despite my nerves at actually catching up with her outside of the Wards base, it felt really nice to have a friend. She was a friend. My first real friend in years.
Which was why I was going to keep an open mind when she explained why she had felt [guilty pride] after I asked her how exactly she knew arm wounds were easier to stitch than stomach wounds.
I found Missy near the ice-cream parlour she'd mentioned. She was standing halfway up the slatted wooden railing, short dark-blonde hair waving in the wind. Dressed well enough to not be told off by the enforcers. She turned around as I approached her, looking directly at me then grinning.
"Hah!" My raised eyebrow worked to elicit an elaboration, once she hopped off the railing and I'd walked closer. "Ever since you joined, I've gotten better at sensing the space around people. I was shortening everything by half a millimetre every few seconds to see if I could spot you." She grinned again. "And I did!"
I felt my own smile form in response. She'd talked about tricks she'd figured out with her power after I described my mental map of relative distances to her. Missy said her powers worked a little differently – less map and more… playdough. Spacetime playdough.
"So, what about you? Think of anything new since the unstoppable safety cone?"
I stared at her crass and reductive description of my preventing the Merchant's escape.
"What?" She was really good at the innocent look. "I can steal Dennis' schtick if I want." And good at the devious look.
I shook my head. "I was too tired last night, but I've been focusing on feeling my exercise on the run here." I'd told Missy and the trainer about what I'd noticed. I was pretty sure the trainer had told the power researchers, since a scheduled meeting popped up in my Wards calendar a day later.
"It's a bit strange to feel your muscle cells healing. And I can almost tell where the stitches are from what my skin is doing." I focused on the specific sensation, but not fully, so I picked up the flash of [nervousness] from Missy. "Which… you said you were going to explain that comment."
The girl winced, [guilt] and [pride] and [loneliness] blending. Missy looked around, then back up at me.
"Promise you won't tell anyone this." She was [serious] and looked it.
"I promise." I knew what keeping secrets was like. Hell, dad still didn't know Emma had been in on my bullying with Sophia, not just scared away like I'd let him assume. Whatever Missy had to say, I would keep her trust.
"So," she huffed, "sometimes I go out. Go rooftop hopping. Find the tallest building. In a shitty costume. Just… going out to get away." She looked at me searchingly. I nodded. I'd had moments like that on Winslow's roof.
"I don't use my real costume, cause Image." It was hard not to laugh at the sheer scorn in her voice. By now we were both watching the water in the bay. She'd clambered back onto the railing so she was only slightly below my eyeline.
"Anyway, one time I went to sit on top of Medhall, which is a good view." I wasn't surprised. Medhall Pharmaceuticals had the tallest building in the Bay. "And I stepped down to a side alley a block away to change into casuals. Except there were some Empire goons." I turned to Missy. This suddenly didn't feel like a good story. I didn't know why I expected one if this was her explanation for stitches after all. Maybe she had to help someone they'd hurt?
"The idiots were just waiting next to an open van, waiting for a shipment probably. So, I warped space until they basically slid down a ramp into the back of the van. Then I stepped down and locked the doors behind them." Missy was still feeling a mix of [pride] and [hubris] so I tried not to react too much to how the PRT public relations really undersold her power. "And I'm about to call the police, but then I hear footsteps in the alley. Turns out, those guys were helping Hookwolf do… something."
Hookwolf. Shit. He was a villain. The Merchants were stains on society, but Hookwolf was a murderer, many times over. The news didn't show pictures of his crime scenes because everyone he killed needed a closed casket. He was one of the Empire's lieutenants, but the PRT had already sentenced him to the Birdcage – the super-duper-maximum security prison that Dragon managed.
The only reason Hookwolf was still on the streets was because the Empire outnumbered the heroes by itself. And it was very hard to put down a giant regenerating wolf made of hooked razor chains.
"Yeah, so stitching your own stomach closed isn't very easy. I made sure to get advanced first aid training after that." The innocent look wasn't working for Missy now. But I didn't know what to do.
On one hand, I was impressed. Other capes died running away from him, and Missy had escaped. And stitched herself up?!?
On the other hand, how the hell had no one else noticed? Wait. Shadow Stalker. Never mind, the PRT just didn't care.
On the… third hand, Missy's story made me actually understand that cape fights were a lot nastier than the Protectorate Pal cartoons on TV.
I still had to respond. Missy had some growing [anxiety]. Uh… "Could I – you – book me into the first aid course too?" Shit why had I said that? "I mean, wow, Hookwolf is terrifying and you – wait did you fight him? – wait no, how badly were you hurt? When even was this?"
I snapped my mouth shut upon registering Missy's [amusement]. God, I hadn't rambled like that in…
"This was last year. Hookwolf is much scarier up close but has this whole honourable warrior thing going on. His part of the Empire used to be cage fighters apparently. I fought him for like three seconds. And yeah, all the Wards should probably do first aid – Aegis heals fast so they don't take him to medical and his stitches almost more gross than just leaving his wound open." Missy was smiling out at the water. She nudged me with an elbow. "Thanks for not freaking out Taylor."
I'd totally been freaking out. Missy was 12 last year! Hookwolf seemed to have a weird idea of honour if trying to murder a child was fine. But Missy thought I was chill. I could be chill.
"Come on, I need to move." She spun on her heel and strode up the Boardwalk. I caught up in a few steps, which made her poke me hard in the arm. I did my best not to frown – why did she poke me like that?
Oh right. She didn't like being short. But she was [happy], teasing. Friendly. It was okay, I'd get used to this.
"So, you ran here huh?"
Missy and I were wandering up the Boardwalk now. Not really looking for anything, just walking and watching what was happening around us.
"Yeah." A waiting moment hung between us as Missy felt slightly [awkward]. No, uh… "I started in February. Felt like a hero should be fit. But I enjoyed it, more than I thought I would." After the first week of huffing at least.
The sun shone on the Boardwalk crowd, with a few fluffy clouds distant on the horizon. I felt like those clouds should be dark and ominous. Like they should actually reflect what was supposed to come.
Missy pushed past a large man, who hadn't expected a young girl to be more stubborn. "I considered running for a while. But my parents both think I'm too young, even if my Dad doesn't care about hero stuff." She huffed. "Like really, what makes jogging around Downtown more dangerous than rooftop hopping in the Docks?"
I thought of a few things, but they wouldn't apply to young white girl. I didn't actually know where Missy lived, and the Empire didn't have all of Downtown. Heck, maybe Missy lived near the Towers. The hilly area was the nicest part of the bay – I knew Dean and the independent heroes of New Wave lived near there.
But Missy didn't give me the same rich-kid vibes that Dean had. That Emma had flaunted.
"Besides, running wouldn't do me much good. I'd be too tempted to shorten the street or create ramps like a parkour thing." Missy was grinning at me. The idea of this barely teen girl bending the city streets into an obstacle course was hilarious. Especially since she could do it. I grinned back.
Then I had a thought.
"Maybe we could do a Wards training thing. Like all of us. You can make the training room into an obstacle course, right?" The Wards hadn't done any group training since I'd joined, and the only solo stuff had been from talking with Missy after the basic self-defence course I was taking.
"Yeah!" Missy looked excited, light green eyes darting around like she was mentally creating the room already. "We'd have to be at the Rig. Oh! We should do a full team training!" She turned to me with a jump and emotive arms. "It'd be really cool to test new tactics and stuff. Especially since you, like, reflect each of us!"
Huh. That would be cool. Ideas ran through my head, the threads of my organisation matching what I'd overheard from patrol briefings. Clockblocker and Vista had a tactic, Missy letting Dennis tag people from a safe distance or unexpected angles. From what I'd seen in the Merchant fight, Aegis worked well with Gallant because he could take attention while Gallant blasted people. Kid Win was a tinker, who were all renowned for adapting to situations and improving their gear.
But where did I fit into things? In the Merchant fight, I'd warped around with a taser. And paused to avoid damage and intimidate the Merchant goons. But my main achievement came from using my powers together.
I'd been a little too effective in stopping the dump truck, but it was still a viable tactic for people moving at normal speeds. But I had been thinking of my powers as separate. Like the Wards. I hadn't ever thought about the whole team fighting together. What would I even do in that situation?
Sure, I could scout, but I'd already proven I could do more.
Training would help. And I was on a team, so I should help the team train too.
"Yeah."
Missy raised both eyebrows. [Wondering]. Oh, I'd been staring at her without saying anything.
"Yeah, uh, that sounds really good. Good idea." She beamed. I realised I had a question. "Although, how does that tend to work?"
Missy looked around then smiled in [conspiracy]. "Well, in the adult leagues, they train against each other. Not just one on one, like, split the team in half like…" Missy's face scrunched in thought. She really did fit the image of an innocent schoolkid. "Ugh, I don't do sports. Like shooters and tacklers. Split the team and let people work out tactics to defend and attack."
That was smart. I hadn't even realised we'd shifted to talking about (secret) cape stuff in a public place. Although I'm pretty sure no sport had dedicated tacklers. Maybe experienced was the better word.
Anyway, I could see how the idea would work. Gallant and Kid Win against Aegis, Clockblocker, and me? Vista didn't quite fit into short or long range, but she could referee. And maybe change the terrain on us.
How would I fight my ranged teammates? Warping behind them was sound. But Kid Win could fly with his hoverboard and Gallant's power armour made punches useless.
The only other teleporter in Brockton Bay, Oni Lee of the ABB, used knives and grenades. But he somehow duplicated with his teleportation. I know Aegis carried flashbangs sometimes. I didn't know if flashbangs could affect me while paused, but I could still drop one in between warps.
But why flashbangs? If Chris could get some new inventions approved, I could be… Thoughts of warping around with power fists or a laser rifle like some sci-fi video game character made Missy [curious] about my sudden laughter.
I didn't tell Missy about the silly ideas that linked to childhood days of running around in a black 'cape' pretending to be Alexandria. But she smirked at my description of her as an arena-altering arbiter of training fights. The youngest Ward moved her hands – like moulding clay and conducting an orchestra – and I remembered that Missy's mischievous steak had been rather intense the one time I'd seen it come out. At least it was sunny enough that the cold tingle down my spine went away quickly.
Missy looked up at me with the same smirk. "It'll be a while till the training is organised, even if we request a room on the Rig today. But we don't have to wait if we book a room," she mouthed the words 'at PRT HQ'. "How do you feel like a spar? Just to get a leg up on the boys?"
I didn't need to know Missy's emotions to tell she was [happy] this time. But knowing that she also felt [companionship] helped the smile I returned her be extra genuine.
Missy was three years younger than me. But that didn't matter – not with the thread between us solidifying into [real friendship].
[>[>/^\<]<]
We'd wandered around some more, but eventually found ourselves at the ice-cream place I'd originally met Missy at.
There'd been a comfortable enough silence since we'd started eating – I'd picked chocolate, as the safe option, while Missy got Neapolitan after staring at the strawberry.
At some point during our wandering, Missy noticed I never talked about my Mom. After she asked me if my parents were separated, I discovered hers were. Or were in the process of divorcing. And had been for three years.
Part of me wanted to tell her that the people you loved could disappear without warning. That you needed to treasure the time you had.
Part of me knew that adults could get caught up in their own minds and forget about their children. That everyone's own problems came first and you had to manage your problems yourself.
I didn't say all of that. Or even half of it. But Missy gave me a quick hug around my stomach, and we'd gotten ice-cream. The sugar and cold helped distract me from feeling guilty about barely talking to my dad since I'd joined the Wards.
I finished my ice-cream.
Missy was [concentrating]. Possibly practicing sensing people with her power more. I didn't have to practice sensing people; my mental map made me constantly aware of the static where I couldn't warp. But I could practice sensing the static-people-shapes themselves. Telling which way someone was facing or how they were moving would be incredibly useful.
Missy and I sat silent for a few more minutes in the hubbub of the Saturday crowd, trying to find details among the throng of bodies. Then I noticed something just as Missy got [interested]. A static-person was lifting into the air further south along the Boardwalk.
Missy and I looked at each other, then stood up and left the ice-cream parlour. A blonde girl in a white top and tight pants was flying away from us, southeast into the suburbs of Downtown.
"Oh right. Dean and Vicky had a date today. Maybe it didn't go well." Missy did a good job of sounding like she was talking about the weather, but I felt the [realisation], [vague frustration], and [hope] associated with each of her comments.
She looked at me and remembered something as [embarrassment] suddenly coloured her emotions and cheeks. She beckoned me out of the crowd to stand in front of a shop window, away from the shop's actual door.
"Uh, your… thinker power," Missy looked nervous – I stilled my expression. "You said you can see relationships between people. Do…" She coughed then blurted the rest out. "DoyouknowaboutmycrushonDean?"
I didn't understand all of what she'd just said, but I heard enough. My power said that the relationship between Missy and Dean was [accepted indulgence]. So, my power hadn't said 'first crush'. But I'd been aware of the Wards' emotions for two weeks now. And Missy had not been that subtle about choosing to sit next to Dean or in her long side glances filled with [infatuation].
Yeah, I knew about Missy's crush on Dean. And I knew he knew about it. But I didn't know what to say. How to even talk about a crush. My only memories of such things were listening to Emma and I was going to ignore those as hard as I could.
So, I just nodded at Missy. Who groaned and leaned against the shop window, [relief] and [embarrassment] both growing.
"Am I obvious?" She mumbled.
I titled my hands in a so-so gesture then realised she was looking up at the sky. "Uh, not really. But I'm pretty sure Carlos knows. And… Dean can see emotions, so…" I trailed off as she groaned louder. Best not to make her [embarrassment] any larger.
"Shit. Of couuurseee he knows. I'm an idiot." [Despair].
Crap. I didn't want this reaction either.
"Hey, uh, at least you didn't get a crush on Dennis." Missy's groan this time ended in a chuckle.
"Yeah, ew. Dennis is like a stupid big brother."
"Dean's basically the same age." I reminded her.
"But he's nice and kind and doesn't flaunt himself despite being rich and," Missy blushed, "he'd be a really good boyfriend."
I raised my eyebrow. Having a mother as a literary professor meant the chivalrous knight vibe made me think more about the patriarchy and class divides than 'good boyfriend'.
Missy blushed further and reached up to swat my upper arm. Without actually reaching that far. I narrowed my eyes at her. Her power was stupidly versatile.
She narrowed her eyes back, [happy] then [teasing]. "Soooo, any crushes on your end?"
I blinked. That was unexpected. Although from what I've seen of other teen girls when they weren't insulting me, it shouldn't have been. So I thought about her question.
Did I have a crush on anyone? Had I ever had a crush on anyone? Certainly not at Winslow. Anyone attractive enough to be popular either ignored me or joined in on the Trio's mission. The only boy who'd showed me attention was Greg. But I think that was just because I listened (or pretended to listen) to his rambling about video games. He'd certainly spent his time obviously staring at the people who bullied me.
Anyone at Arcadia? Well, it had only been two weeks. But there were some very muscly people on the sports team. But I didn't know anyone. And while people were polite to me, I was still generally ignored at my new school. By design. I hadn't wanted anyone connecting the new girl with long dark curly hair with the new Ward who had dark curly hair.
Anyone in the Wards? Dean was in a relationship with Glory Girl. Or going by how she'd flown off alone and his current [guilt], [resolve], and [frustration], maybe he wasn't. But I still wasn't going there. Chris spent most of his time tinkering, which I appreciated in a professional sense – even if his visor accidentally got us both in more trouble.
Dennis had 'pranked' me upon first meeting, which turned me right off even if he'd turned out to have good intentions most of the time. (I'd focused on everyone's emotions a lot when he'd kept joking around in the first week I'd joined.)
Carlos… was very buff. Probably a result from his power. And his costume was rather skin-tight. But constantly knowing that he often felt a little [pity] towards me and that our relationship was [tentative mentoring] made making an attempt at anything romantic… feel a bit tacky. Like I was being unprofessional. Him being Ward Leader didn't help that feeling.
"Ok, you're taking way too long to think about that." Missy was looking at me intently, but thankfully redirected her [curiosity]. "Have you ever kissed anyone?"
No! Don't redirect in that direction!
"No. I haven't kissed anyone." Keep a straight face, Taylor.
"Wow. No one at your old school?"
I closed my eyes. "I told you what Sophia did."
"Shit. I'm, ah, shit. Sorry. She really was a bitch huh?" Missy was [apologetic] and [guilty] for forgetting the time I'd ranted in the Wards base when it was just us.
I laughed (I had to) at her very concise summary of Sophia's character. "She really was a bitch, yeah." I laughed again. Just because I could. And because no one would put me down for it.
Missy turned to glare at a passing Enforcer who'd walked over to see what two teens who weren't shopping could possibly be up to. None of his business was the answer.
"Alright, no more bad stuff." Missy thought, then frowned. "Have I ever asked who your favourite Triumvirate member was?"
I was pretty sure she hadn't. Which was surprising. Because that question was one even non-cape-geeks had an opinion on. And we both categorised as cape geeks.
"Alexandria." My answer was simple, but Missy's expression asked for more. "She's invulnerable, gives no shits, and is the reason villains leave LA. Besides, she's one of the first high profile cape women and gave that great speech about over-sexualised armour despite being able to fight nude if she wanted." Mom had taught me what was important in an idol. "And she can fly." (I'd added my own notes to her presentation.)
"Solid choice." Missy was nodding solemnly. "But I've met them." My jaw dropped. She grinned.
"Yeah! Two years ago, they did this thing with all the youngest wards. It was really weird to see a 5-year-old in a costume. Looked like someone dressing up for Halloween. But the Triumvirate were there. And after the main event, they talked to a bunch of us who had really high rankings." That's right. Missy was a shaker 9; the highest rated Ward shaker on the East Coast.
"Anyway, my favourite Triumvirate member is Legend. He's actually really nice. I used to think Eidolon was the coolest, but he's kinda rude and arrogant in person. Strongest parahuman, sure, but eh." Missy was gesturing with her arms a lot. "Like Armsmaster. He's maybe the second-best tinker in the world, but he's so focused on tinkering he doesn't realise when he's being rude. Or he just doesn't care since its not his tech. Some tinkers can be like that."
That was… cool to know. And explained a bit about the few interactions I'd had with Armsmaster. But I still felt the urge to defend (and learn about) my childhood hero.
"What is Alexandria like in person?"
"Really, really focused." Missy looked into the middle distance. "Like she's intimidating. Not rude, but she notices everything. Everyone forgets that she's a thinker as well as a brute. Strongest and smartest apparently." I did know that, but it had always felt like a minor thing. Huh.
"She had to leave early from the youngest Wards conference they put on, but I know she runs a training camp." Missy saw the interest on my face and hurriedly clarified. "Training for the problem Wards. Like Sophia would have gone there in an instant if she wasn't good at getting arrests."
Ah. Maybe I didn't want to go to that camp then.
"But anyway, Legend's lasers are ridiculous. If Eidolon wasn't the trump, Legend would get an honorary trump rating. Like, freezing lasers? But also burning lasers? And also electric lasers? And they all follow you? And Legend is the actual leader of the Protectorate. And he's gay and married to a black man, which makes the Empire super pissy!" Missy's [excitement] was infectious, so I mentally shifted Legend into second place on my mental list.
I remember Mom cackling at a news report of Legend saving the life of one of the super homophobic conservative politicians. She'd said something like "who's the lesser human now?" (with a swearword she'd made me promise to never repeat). Gay marriage had been legalised a year later.
I told Missy the story, which made her laugh too.
But then her phone dinged. She looked at it and felt [resentment] and [resignation].
"I'm late to switch houses. Sooo, my parents are shouting at each other on the front lawn." Her hard expression and [frustration] eased when she looked up at me. "I'll get the bus back so they get it out of their system. Thanks for being cool Taylor, I'll see you tomorrow at the briefing."
I smiled when she did, then leaned down to return the quick hug.
She turned, then walked over to Lord Street with a wave.
I looked down the Boardwalk. Then up towards the mouth of the bay. A few rusted boat hulks stuck out of the water. The Protectorate Base floated in the middle of the natural harbour, forcefield shimmering. People gasped around me as a bridge of light burned into being, a metallic blue motorcycle and armoured hero accelerating towards the city.
I let out a heavy sigh. Looked at the clouds in the distance. Then ran home in the calm before the storm.
Dad got home pretty late. He worked on Saturdays, for a full 6 days a week.
For the past two Sundays, I'd been at the PRT. One in an apparent coma. One being announced as the city's new Ward. Tomorrow I would be back at the PRT for a Wards briefing about the expected gang war.
So, dad worked 6 days a week, starting early, finishing late. And I spent time at the Wards base in the afternoons even when I didn't have a shift scheduled.
I saw dad in the morning.
Mornings were normal. I ran and showered. One of us made a shared breakfast. We ate. He went to work.
I saw dad in the evening.
Evenings had become… well, they hadn't changed much. I got home after dad on days when I had console shifts. Because of that and the extra money I made, we got takeout a little more. But dinner was still organised by one of us. We still sat together. I actually talked more about school now.
The real difference is that, in the past two weeks, both of us knew we weren't talking about something. I'd hid the bullying at Winslow from dad for nearly two years. I still hadn't told him who the bullies were. Though he knew one of them was a Ward.
He knew one of my former bullies was a former member of my team. He didn't know Sophia's name or that she'd tried to run. Just that the PRT had fixed some internal corruption.
Which mirrored a lot of what he knew about my activities as a hero. As a Ward. Dad got summaries of what my shifts were and what had happened in the week. But I'd read the first few summaries, and they were only slightly more detailed than the news reports.
I'd been glad all my hoodies and sweaters were long sleeved and baggy, covering the stitches left arm. Not brushing against them either, thankfully.
The whole thing made me a little disappointed. I know dad hadn't wanted me to patrol when I'd joined the Wards. I'd agreed with him (then) since I would've have done anything useful.
But after adjusting to my full power, sharing abilities with my teammates, I would be useful. Had already been useful!
Dad disappointed me because he didn't want me to put myself in danger. As if Winslow hadn't been dangerous. Arcadia seemed pleasant enough, but I suspected there was still a girl somewhere getting her life ruined.
Point was, Dad saw my being a Ward as me choosing the danger. But this time, good would come out of anything I faced. Meant there was purpose.
After I'd fought the Merchants, dad asked me to leave the Wards. After I'd been announced to the city as Seneschal, he'd said that he would've never known it was me behind the gold-stitched visor.
Dad disappointed me because he acted like Seneschal was someone else. Like becoming a Ward meant it was just a matter of time till I'd be caught in a car crash while on my phone.
Like I was going to die and the 'when' was just a matter of waiting.
I ate dinner at home five nights a week. I felt more sure, more safe, more solid than I could remember. And my dad faded, slower, but sill like last time. When Mom hadn't come home.
Dad disappointed me because I was coming home. To him acting like I wouldn't.
Standing in my living room, still sweaty from running home, surrounded by framed photos that stopped before 2009, I once again decided to try to wash the guilt away in the shower.
It didn't really work. Again.
[>[>/^\<]<]
Dinner was nearly ready when dad got home. He hung up his coat as I stirred the stir fry a little more.
I heard his footsteps come up the hall. "Hey dad, how was work?"
"Fine, fine." His voice was subdued. "You remember that a bunch of abandoned warehouses were being bought up?"
I didn't. "Yeah. Any jobs with salvage or clean up?"
"You'd think there would be. But it's just being bought. No plans with the council. No one even looking before its bought. The only buyer that seems to be an actual construction company is that Endbringer shelter one – Fortress Constructions." One of the kitchen chairs creaked as I checked on the rice then turned to get bowls to set the table. Out of the corner of my eye, dad pushed his glasses up onto his bald spot and pressed his hands into his eyes.
"But enough about me," his voice sounded normal now, "how are you, kiddo? What's cooking? Wait, you had that meeting with a… friend this morning?"
I looked up from laying out the cutlery. Dad's glasses were back on his nose, framing green eyes that I hadn't inherited.
"I'm good. Ahead with homework so I caught up with a friend this morning on the boardwalk. And its vegetable stir fry tonight." The fridge was basically empty, so the lack of meat wasn't a dietary choice. I'd had to cut away some brown spots from the veg too. If dad didn't get groceries tomorrow, I'd collect them on the way back from the PRT building. The supermarkets Downtown were nicer anyway.
I served us both. We ate. Dad talked more about the DWU on my prompting. We were both glad for a topic to fill the… silence. Absence? Emptiness?
Having the DWU as my organisation meant I understood more of what dad had been talking about. I wasn't constantly aware of people and relationships like I now was with the Wards. But the DWU had been my organisation for a few days, and I still remembered things.
So, I asked about the workers. The people I'd known so fully for such a short time.
Gary had left and become a henchman for Uber and Leet. The villains who weren't that bad but were also as unapologetically R-rated as the modern Earth Aleph video games they emulated.
A lot of people were facing issues with the gangs. Either from living in the Docks and having to avoid the ABB or from avoiding Empire recruiters trying to convince them to help with smuggling. The Merchants hadn't really been organised enough to pressure the DWU, but people had been harassed or hurt by them on jobs in the north of town.
But most people didn't work Saturdays, so dad didn't have any gossip. I tried not to be too obvious in questioning. It's just that… gah!
Taking down the Merchants was my first big (real) thing as a hero! I was proud!
Dad must have noticed… something. Because he let out a long, slow sigh; air flowing from him and taking his emotions out with it. "Taylor, that friend you saw this morning." I looked up from my final forkful of vegetables and rice. And waited. "Are they a friend from school or…"
I suddenly understood the appeal of that kind of sigh. "Not from school."
Dad nodded. I scooped up the last few grains of rice on my plate.
"I –" Dad started but didn't continue for an awkward minute. "Taylor. With your… patrol. Yesterday. The news today. They're saying you assisted. What does that mean?"
He sounded defeated. I simultaneously wanted to comfort him and be angry that I had to be the strong one.
I focused on my organisation to stay rational: [friendship] between Missy and I, Missy's [crush] on Dean fading just a bit with more self-awareness, Dean feeling mostly [protective] over me instead of pitying, and Carlos being so earnest towards everyone. Chris being thankful and distracted.
Good and bad, but all well-intentioned. I knew that. Piggot had given me an ultimatum; Ward or villain. But I don't think I would have left even if I'd had the option. I was lonely, sure. But having an organisation, a [hero] organisation?
Dad didn't – couldn't – know what that felt like. The closest would be his attachment to the DWU.
So, I told him truths.
"Dauntless was in charge of the engagement."
"I used my taser on Mush."
"No one hurt me." (Tinkertech wasn't a person – not Squealer's at least.)
"I scouted out the situation."
"I wasn't even involved in fighting the regular goons." (Them fighting me was different.)
Truths. He'd seen the news congratulating Dauntless on his arrest of the Merchant leaders. I gave him truths and he didn't dig.
A big part of me felt so guilty for, in truth, lying to my father. Another part of me wanted him to be proud of me. I knew he would be. Dad had always, always been in my corner. But what we both wanted didn't always align.
"Taylor, I've had two phone calls to tell me you were in hospital. Two. One when you were a kid, and then after they found you in an empty…" He must have seen my flinch, or just realised that reminding me of the cold metal locker and how I'd beat my hands bloody trying (to make someone notice me) was't a good idea.
"Every time the… the PRT rings, "he said the acronym with uncomfortable emphasis, "I get this little thought that wonders…" Dad trailed off. Rubbed at an eye beneath his glasses. "Taylor, I don't want them to call me saying you're dead."
He didn't meet my eyes. "I couldn't deal with that." The whisper was damning, but –
He was right. I remembered how he'd been after Mom died. Only pulling himself together because Alan reminded him that I existed. If I went, well, I wasn't going to think about that.
But I needed to think about what dad had been going through. I'd leaned so hard on the people around me when Mom died. I'd been shaken, but not as much as realising how truly alone I was, back in January.
I don't know if I'd fully found solid ground with that even now. That first month of trying to understand my power alone had forced me to face things I'd been… avoiding.
And I'd been avoiding this talk with dad. He'd probably been avoiding it too.
Dad was worried about me being in danger. I realised he didn't know all the ways I could keep myself safe now. How much of my full powers had even been explained to him?
"Dad. Dad." He looked up. "I'm not going to die. I can do a lot more than understand organisations and boost powers." I couldn't decipher that particular frown. "I… kinda, share powers with the Wards. Like I teleport because of Vista. She can tell where people are around her, so I can too. People can't sneak up on me. And I can pause myself like Clockblocker does to objects. It makes me invincible. Like, even Alexandria can't affect things he freezes."
"Oh." Dad looked flabbergasted. I guess he'd only known about my powers from the announcement video.
"Tha – that's good kiddo." He didn't sound like it was good.
"Dad. My powers keep me safe. More safe than the other Wards." I still wasn't convincing him, shit. What other truths could I give?
"I'm never going to do solo patrols."
"My role is just to scout, not to fight anyone."
"They've pulled me off patrols for the next two weeks anyway."
"What? Why? Did something happen?" Damn. That was meant to reassure him.
"It's all fine dad. They didn't expect us to run into the Merchants last night, so it's just more training for me." Training as punishment. Well, that's what I would make my punishment into.
Dad looked at me, long and searching. I stamped down on the instinct to pause. Even if things were awkward between us, I didn't want to drift apart.
He sighed again. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked down. Pursed his lips. "Kiddo, you know I don't follow news about parahumans." I did know that. "I… Some people in the union do. And… they were saying good things." That made me feel a little warmer.
"So… just… Just know that I'm proud of you. For turning things around."
I pushed my chair back and stepped round the table to give him a hug. Mom had been the physical parent, but dad's hugs were still nice.
"Please stay safe Taylor. And… if anything happens, please call me. I don't want to hear it from someone else." He said the words into the top of my head. They were muffled, but I heard him and hugged a little tighter.
"I'm not even going out there for two weeks dad." I tried to say it like it was a good thing.
He hugged me tighter then. We both let go a short moment later. Dad stood up and gathered the plates. I turned to go upstairs.
Dad called out when I'd got three steps up the stairs. "Taylor. I love you."
"Love you too dad!" I leaned over the railing to look back into the kitchen through the hall door. Dad was staring at the bottle of soy sauce in his hand.
I stopped leaning over the railing, thinking about what to read tonight when I heard dad mutter: "They promised she wouldn't be out there at all."
[>[>/^\<]<]
I hadn't ended up reading a book. Laying in bed hadn't helped either. So, pulling a gown around my nightshirt, I booted up the old computer on my desk.
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♦ Topic: Squealer Disappeared
In: Boards ► News ► Events ► Brockton Bay
Bagrat (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Posted On Mar 19th 2011:
We know the Merchants were captured last night and sent to hospital. Its been all over the news this morning, so keep all discussion about the capture and gang stuff to that thread please.
But, I just got a call and... well, Squealer is gone from the hospital. My source did *not* say escaped, but Squealer is not in the bed they left her in. And since Panacea was called in yesterday night, I doubt Squealer managed to tinker her way out.
I'm not entirely sure what else there is to say here, but if you see Squealer walking(or driving) around the city, call the PRT. There's photos of her on the wiki since the Merchants don't wear masks half the time.
(Showing page 1 of 2)
►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
First!
►Coyote-C
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
Do you think she took a plea deal? Like did they move her to rehab or something?
►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
Maybe.
I've heard Panacea's healing can clear your system but doesn't help with the actual addiction.
►Mac's Dual Rocket Propelled Grenades
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
Rehab is possible, but prison is more likely. Besides, why wouldn't they send Skidmark there as well?
►Antigone
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
Wait, the Merchants were hospitalised? Dauntless was supposed to be leading a Ward patrol. What the hell happened?
►Bagrat (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
Dauntless is usually pretty good about collateral damage and stuff, so the capes being in hospital is a little weird, you're right.
But its the Merchants - who knows if they did it to themself?
►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
Nah the Protectorate are obviously conscripting her to build tinker-cars.
►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
Dauntless could have been protecting the Wards - it was Aegis, Gallant, and the new girl right?
Also Mush wasn't injured and Aegis helped with that arrest apparently.
►White Fairy (Veteran Member)
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
The new Ward was involved in the Merchant capture? This is her first week. Damn.
Any official PRT word on this?
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►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
Only in Brockton Bay
►Miss Mercury (Protectorate Employee)
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
The Wards are all okay. Dauntless had to act quickly to stop Skidmark and Squealer endangering themselves in Squealer's 'creation'.
►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
See! Kidnapped for tinkertech!
►Mac's Dual Rocket Propelled Grenades
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
Void, you can stop trying now.
►Laser Augment
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
So do we actually know anything apart from Squealer apparently being missing from the hospital.
►Bagrat (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
Nope. But she is missing. Hospital staff didn't check her out either.
►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
Bagrat Please don't make us question how you know these things.
►Xyloloup
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
So does the PRT want to weigh in on this? Tell us if we need to keep an eye out for the Merchants?
Or is it just the nazis and ABB now?
►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)
Replied On Mar 19th 2011:
The PRT will release a statement in the coming days.
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