4
'Okay I got their airways clear so I think they'll make it, but a few of the unpowered guys sound like they're not breathing,'
'I'm coming up there, I can do CPR or something,' you reply.
The sound of sirens continues to get louder.
'Wait, Skidmark is still moving around a bit… oh, nevermind. The good guys just got here.'
You pull Dad's arm off where he'd had it wrapped tightly around your mid-section. "Anne disabled the bad guys Dad and the cops are here. We need to go out and talk to them."
"Are you sure it's safe?" he asks as he levers himself to his feet.
"Yeah," you say, injecting certainty where you don't actually feel it.
You make your way out of the neighbor's shed and to the front of his house, where you get a good look at things. It's a war zone. The actual damage to your house isn't as bad as you would've thought. There's a ragged hole a dozen or so feet in diameter giving a view into your living room, where the furniture is surprisingly intact. The front lawn, sidewalk, and section of the street didn't fare nearly so well. An uneven crater several yards across is carved into the ground, lined with chunks of dirt and asphalt.
Anne has started dispersing the swarm, but the sheer volume of insects is still startling. It looks like something out of a nature documentary showing the height of bug breeding season somewhere tropical. You had no idea there were this many insects even alive in Spring in Brockton Bay.
There are thick mounds of writing insects scattered across the street, and you can see Anne slowly pull the bugs back revealing downed people. You hear off to the side the steady patter of water – looks like one of the cars rammed into a fire hydrant when the driver was attacked by insects. Several police cruisers have stopped half a block up the street, with the officers advancing slowly.
A figure abruptly appears next to one of the downed people. The red costume and quick arrival tell you that it's the Protectorate speedster, Velocity. He checks the person over, obviously making sure they're still alive. He practically teleports over to the nearest cop, requests and receives a pair of handcuffs and then jogs back to the downed figure, cuffing them.
'That was the one making the whirlwind,' Anne informs you.
You holler to get Velocity's attention. "Hey! The two other capes are in that giant tank thing!"
He nods and you can see him moving his lips but not looking like he's saying anything out loud. Or very loud. Whatever. He's obviously talking into a communicator of some sort. He gives the tiniest of nods, almost like an unconscious response to his conversation, and walks over to where you, Anne, and Dad are huddled together.
"Armsmaster will be here to deal with the tank and the rest of this in," his sentence is interrupted by the growl of a motorcycle approaching rapidly, "very short order.
"Are you all okay?"
You can see in the background that the arrival of two Protectorate heroes has set the cops at ease and allowed them to do their job – keeping civilians away from the site of a cape battle, and beginning to round up all the regular gang members.
"Yes," you reply, just as your Dad starts shouting, "This is YOUR FAULT!"
Velocity is taken aback by the fire in Dad's voice. He takes a half-step backwards, holding his hands in a placating gesture. "Sir, I'm sorry this happened, but I'm afraid I haven't been briefed on…"
"You don't even know?!" he barks out, his voice taking on an edge of the hysterical. "You morons outed my daughter, and the fucking Merchants find where we live, and I chew out you PRT idiots this morning and they didn't even warn the heroes? 'Oh hey guys, we completely fucked up and outed a girl as a new cape, we'd better be even aware of the basic situation?!'"
"Sir, I am sorry, I truly am. The most important thing right now is that you're all okay…"
"No, goddammit, no! The most important thing is that my fifteen-year old daughter had to single-handedly take down an entire crew of supervillains at our home because you absolute morons can't be trusted to…"
Dad was interrupted by a thundering CRACK off to the side.
Oh.
Glory girl.
She rose slowly from her totally-just-for-show three point landing. If this had been even two days ago, you would've felt your heart hammering in your chest at the encounter with the famous teen bombshell. Having already talked with her aunt and her gorgeous cousin at length, you're able to contain yourself.
"Oh hey, Glory girl! I was just talking to your aunt and cousin yesterday," you make a point of turning away from Velocity, treating his presence as irrelevant. Your Dad picks up on the move and you can just catch a look through Anne's eyes that he's amused. He follows suit, and steps towards you.
"Thank God New Wave is here," he mutters loudly.
"Holy shit, Taylor, what happened?! Do you need Amy? Is that your house!?!" she seems to notice the hole into the living room just then.
"The Merchants showed up and Anne put them down. No. It was."
There's a long pause where you can practically hear the gears in Vicky's head turning as she catches up.
"Wait, wait, wait… did you just say your projection single-handedly took down all of the Merchants?"
"All of the ones here, yeah. And she's not a projection, her name is Anne, she's a person."
By now Anne's completely dispersed the swarm. The only indications that insects had anything to do with the encounter is the thousands of dead bugs strewn everywhere.
A thought occurs to you. "Hey, Glory girl do you have a cellphone on you that I can borrow?"
She quickly pulls a little flip-phone from a pouch… somewhere… on her costume and hands it over. You turn to Dad, "Hey so we need to call like a motel or something, yeah?" you offer the phone to him.
It's a measure of how much he's still shell-shocked by the rapid pace of events that he grabs the phone without hesitation and starts dialing. You turn back to chat with Glory Girl, actually introducing yourself this time as you hear him chatting behind you, "Hey Lacey… yeah that ruckus is us… no, no we're fine… it's unbelievably crazy, I mean you wouldn't believe what's going on here… no we really are fine, Glory Girl just offered to have Panacea check us over but we really are okay… oh I know, I know… yes thank you so much, I know I didn't have to ask but I still had to ask, you know?... I'm not sure but… yeah okay, okay… thank you so much, hun, and tell Kurt if we get there before he's back from the bar that I'll… yeah exactly… okay see you later."
You find yourself explaining how you could make a spider silk bodysuit for Amy that would be bulletproof without requiring her to change her current robes or costume when Armsmaster comes tromping over. "Glory Girl, we need Panacea here immediately. Several people here are on the edge of dying from anaphylactic shock. Can you bring her…"
He doesn't even finish the question before she's rocketing off.
==
Three hours later and you're still sitting in a PRT interview room. (275/300 the moment you sat down in the interrogation room) Dad is to your left and the Union's lawyer is sitting to his left. Anne is cross-legged on the floor behind you. She'd offered to go running through the building's walls to scope everything out and freak some people out. As funny as you'd thought that was, you'd turned her down. It's weird – while you've basically calmed down after the fight, she is still apparently really keyed up. You can feel a sort of tense, humming excitement coming from your link to her.
The PRT guys had tried to separate you and Dad, but another explosion of his temper and they'd immediately backed off and said they'd put in a room together so you could wait until your lawyer showed up. They hadn't even been in to offer water or directions to a bathroom or anything.
=
The door swings open and a very tired-looking man in a rumpled grey suit brings in a cafeteria tray with plastic cups and a jug of water. He wordlessly places the tray on the table and leaves. Not a moment later, the door opens again with Armsmaster and a squat blond woman coming into the room. The woman seats herself while Armsmaster takes up a stiff standing position in the corner of the room behind her.
"I'm PRT Director Emily Piggot," she begins, "and I'd like to start by offering our deepest apologies for the various… miscommunications and misunderstandings of the past week. It seems there was a technical foul-up with our internal email and alert systems, meaning key individuals did not get the information they needed to act in a timely fashion."
You sense the faintest quiver from Dad, but before you can react, Mr. Carruthers, the Union lawyer, places his hand on Dad's forearm. Two decades of working with the Union, over half of that working directly with Dad, and it seems like he's gotten very good at reading Dad's temper.
The lawyer looks Piggot straight in the eye and simply says, "And…?"
She bristles slightly, but continues, "And the PRT would like to offer a protective detail until the remaining parahuman threat from the Merchants has been dealt with and a settlement to the Heberts to compensate them for the damage to their home and the disruption they've experienced. We would also like to ask that Miss Hebert register as an independent hero while here."
You just can't help yourself: "Maybe after today's events I'd prefer not to give any information to you at all. Maybe I'd prefer to just be a rogue. Maybe I should become a villain because at least the goddamn Nazi's were able to offer us protection before I was attacked in my home instead of after."
Silence.
Everyone's staring at you.
You can just feel Anne grinning enormously behind you. What's gotten in to her?
Armsmaster bulls his way through the tense silence, "Miss Hebert have you joined the Empire Eighty-Eight?"
Silence.
Dad barks out a laugh and you can't help but join him. After all the stress of the past few days, the heart-pounding violence of the evening, and the tension of sitting in this room for the past few hours and this is where your life has ended up: sitting in a room with one of the most famous heroes in America asking you if you've joined a gang of Nazis.
The laughter trickles to a stop. You wipe amusement's tears from your eyes and look straight at his helmet visor thingy. "No. No I haven't joined the Nazis for chrissakes. And fine, I'll fill out the hero registration forms."
His posture eases slightly, but it's so subtle you only notice because Anne has placed gnats on his shoulders, elbows, and knees. Visually, you can't see the shift.
As the room relaxes slightly, you're able to spend a bit of your attention on what Anne's been doing with the bugs. There are more than you'd expect in a futuristic building like this, but still not enough to get the kind of near-omniscience you had during the Merchants fight.
She's been systematically moving flies through rooms, cockroaches through walls, and placing gnats, mosquitoes and other tiny bugs in people's hair. You don't have the same strong, direct link to the swarm that you had during the fight, but it's breathtaking nonetheless. Against the Merchants, she was a tsunami. A hurricane of insectile fury. Very much the Biblical plague that insect-powers would promise. Here, she was a surgeon. Each insect a precisely controlled scalpel, cutting out information about the environment and feeding it to both of you. If you spent a full day sitting here, just from this one interrogation room you'd end up with every single piece of the building perfectly mapped.
"…Miss Hebert?"
Your musings on Anne's work are interrupted. Can't keep zoning out like that!
"I'm sorry, I'm just super-tired from everything that's happened. Can you repeat the question?"
"I just asked you to explain what happened, in your own words."
You look over at Mr. Carruthers. He smiles a bit, probably glad that you had the instinct to look to him first, and simply waves a little circle with his hand in a 'go on' motion.
You recount the evening's events to the best of your memory. Both Piggot and Armsmaster fail to contain their surprise when you tell them that Anne has her own powers to sense and control bugs. As you wrap up your description, Armsmaster chimes in, "We've gotten the preliminary reports. Skidmark, Squealer, and Whirlygig have all been taken into custody alive. It is only Panacea's intervention that saved Skidmark and Squealer's lives, although Squealer is in a coma. Her oxygen was restricted long enough that she is unlikely to ever awaken."
Before you can even process the fact that you just put a woman in a permanent coma, he continues, "Of the nine gang members present, three were dead on-scene, four more died en route to the hospital, and Panacea was able to save two. Reports indicate that at least one and perhaps as many as five fled the scene. It is unknown whether they expired from their wounds."
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck. You just killed seven people.
That's apparently enough to knock Anne out of the fiercely giddy mood she's been in since the fight. You feel shock and horror from her.
Director Piggot responds to that information, "Miss Hebert. Taylor, dear. I'm so very sorry it came to this. Loss of life, even of these gang members, is always a tragedy. I will recommend several people you can talk to and do strongly recommend you do so. Everyone here at the Protectorate and Wards routinely speak with a professional about the difficulties and consequences of their jobs.
She turns to the attorney, "And of course using lethal force in self-defense or defense of others is more than justified in response to a parahuman attack on your home. The official conclusion will have to await the end of the investigation, but Mr. Carruthers I want to assure you the PRT will not be pursuing any charges related to these deaths."
You're only half paying attention. Your mind is spinning inwards, consumed by the enormity of Anne's (and your) actions. You've been a parahuman for less than a week and you've already murdered. Seven times. Your breath starts coming fast and ragged. Seven people. People. Seven of them. Every single one could've… they maybe could've given up their gang life. They could've gone on to… and now… and now they're dead. Dead. You feel your chest expanding and expelling air in huge, gasping breaths. You're dizzy. The insects are…
"… hey… squirt…" your Dad's voice is tinny, distant. The world loses color. Your vision shrinks to a point on the table. You can see your hands clasped in front of you. Clenched. Bloodless white. You…
====
Yet again you awaken to the sound of a heart monitor beeping. This is becoming a bad habit. Anne is seated primly in a chair to the side of the bed. Dad is dozing in the corner of the room. As with the last time you woke up in a hospital bed, you feel the pull of your power. You focus on the 275/300 in the corner of your vision and return to what you find yourself thinking of as 'Taylor Selection.'
You see Anne to the left in her active circle, and the usual array of bright and shadowed Taylors in front of you. This time there's a sort of tense, crackling energy in your hands. You don't actually see anything when you look at them, but you can feel it. You wave your hands in front of you. There's a tiny humming resonance when you hold your hands in front of your own chest. You pull away before doing anything with that feeling.
You wander over to Anne and feel the same thing when you bring your hands towards her chest.
Seeing her here is actually kind of unsettling. You've gotten used to seeing her active and animated, but ghostly. Here, she's like a mannequin. Completely still. But also completely solid. Like an exact copy of you except put on pause.
Whoa, wait. Wait, not an exact copy any more. She's now wearing the top half of your costume. When did that happen?
You continue walking, passing one of the greyed-out active circles. The slight humming feeling returns. You head over to the rows of Taylors and don't feel anything there.
Okay, so the choice seems to be to push this energy into your own chest, into Anne, and or into that second active circle. You decide to go with that last one. Having two ghosts around has got to be incredibly valuable, and you've really been itching to learn about the powers and personality of the other Taylors. You head over to the circle and push on that feeling of resonance. The feeling fades immediately and the circle goes from grey to a gently shining blue just like the one under Anne's feet.
You head over to the rows of Taylors and stop in front of the mime-looking one. She's you, obviously, and has your face, your build, and your hair. But she's wearing a beret and a black and white striped mime's shirt. You feel the tug between you and her, and you pull on it. A moment later, the figure turns into a black silhouette and appears in the second active circle.
You pull back away from Taylor Selection and feel yourself back in the hospital bed. The new ghost has appeared at the foot of the bed, shock written all over her face.
'Hi there,' you offer.
'What the hell? Where am I? Who are you? Why do you look like me? How come you can hear me? How come I can talk now?' her head turns around wildly as she assaults you with questions. She notices Anne, 'Oh my god who is that? How come there are two of you? What the hell?!'
'It's okay,' Anne says. 'I freaked out too when I got here.'
'Did Lung kill me? I saw him go down and I heard Armsmaster coming and…' she's looking down at herself, noticing her ghostly appearance. 'What the hell! Holy crap am I a ghost now? Am I dead? Lung killed me, didn't he?'
'Lung?!' you reply. 'You fought Lung?! What the hell!' You find yourself copying her exclamation.
'Guys, guys c'mon calm down,' Anne interjects. You can feel the swarm moving around, each bug a little jerky bundle of agitation. You're not sure exactly what's happening, but you feel yourself calm down, and mime-Taylor's posture slowly relaxes as well.
Huh.
'First things first,' Anne continues. 'That's Taylor, my name is Taylor Anne, but call me Anne. What's your name?'
She looks to both of you with narrowed eyes, as the use of names were some sort of plot to trick her out of her secret identity. 'How do I know that's true? How do I know I'm not stuck in some sort of mind-screwing power right now?'
You let out a weary sigh. 'Anne, how come you weren't this suspicious when I summoned you?'
'I was also in the middle of a Lung fight and he'd just jumped up the height of entire building and blasted fire straight at my face. When I came here, I was pretty sure it was because I'd died on that roof. Not much room to be suspicious when you're pretty sure you're a ghost.'
That got the mime's attention. 'You fought Lung too?'
'Jeez, what it is with Taylors from other dimensions and a need to fight the strongest parahuman in the city on the first night out?' you muse.
They both give you a flat look.
Over the next few minutes the three of you chat, exchanging the basics of your stories. Like both you and Anne, the mime triggered in the locker. And like Anne, she had to go back to school and was still getting bullied even after the event. The only real difference you can tell between Anne and the mime's stories is that the mime spent much longer in the locker and ended up with a throat infection that rendered her mute.
Well, that and her powers. She explains that she's got a sort of area of effect telekinesis, but to shape the power she has to act out the idea that's in her head. She decided to go with a mime outfit since it felt like she had to mime the actions to get the telekinesis to work.
'Well, we can't keep calling you "mime" or "mime-girl" and both Taylor and Anne are already taken. So what should we call you?'
She seems uneasy at the idea of her name already being "taken" by someone else.
'I don't know. I had planned on using "Marceau" as my cape name, after those movies that Mom...'
You and Anne smile simultaneously. 'Mom would…' 'Mom would…' you both start.
A mix of amusement and sadness fills the room.
'Yeah. Mom would.' Marceau nods.
Your quiet laughter was enough to get Dad to slowly wake up. He rubs his eyes and looks over at you. Seeing Marceau, his eyes widen slightly. He rubs his eyes again and looks over the three of you. You feel tension from Marceau. 'It's okay,' you tell her. 'He's known for a while now.'
"Dad, you've got triplets!"
He's not amused.
"I think it's another Taylor from a parallel dimension where she died. I summoned her here." You explain how she, like Anne, is basically the exact same person, but that she got different powers and your best guess is still that your power is summoning Taylors from alternate dimensions right before they die, or something.
"Honey, we're in the PRT medical wing. You passed out during the conversation, and they put you in one of the VIP rooms so you could have privacy. It's only been a few hours…"
Shit, you're still in the PRT building, and a second ghost just appeared. You hear noise in the hall and look to Marceau in panic. She catches on immediately. Anne and Marceau share a lightning-fast look, and Anne dives through the wall to the side, leaving just you, Dad, and Marceau in the room when Piggot, Armsmaster, and Panacea enter the room.
Panacea looks exhausted. She wordlessly tromps over to the bed and practically slaps her hand onto your forearm. You're surprised by the contrast between how energetic and… alive her sister is, versus how defeated she looks. She grunts something, spins on her heels and leaves without a word to you. Her only comment the entire time is a passing mumbled "she's fine" to Piggot as she leaves.
Well. Okay then.
Assured of your health, Piggot makes arrangements for a PRT detail to bring you to Kurt and Lacey's house. Initially, Armsmaster insists on you staying in a Protectorate safehouse, but Dad is having none of it.
"Are you telling me a PRT detail can't handle the garbage guy and some Merchants if they show up?"
"…"
"And after those assholes attacked us at home, are you telling me any other villains would come after us in our civilian lives?"
Armsmaster shifts, "Well, it's actually less likely given the history New Wave has here than…"
"Fine. Then we're leaving now. Director, I'll let you and Mr. Carruthers finish negotiations and bring us the paperwork."
==
It takes a little finagling, but Anne is able to sneak through the PRT building and kind of hang on to the bottom of the car they bring you and Dad to. You can feel her flitting through the building, using the hyper-awareness provided by the bugs to avoid detection.
She just keeps getting more and more impressive. You can't help but feel kind of inadequate as you feel her act like some sort of translucent ninja - bypassing patrols, ghosting right behind the backs of office workers, and tucking behind desks to stay completely out of sight.
==
When you get to their house, Kurt and Lacey are both wide awake. You haven't seen them in probably two or three years, but a palpable wave of relief washes over them when they see both you and your Dad unharmed.
They're a little freaked out by Anne and Marceau, but that doesn't get in the way of their sympathy and hospitality.
"Oh and Anne says you have a bunch of house centipedes in your basement. She says she could clean them out, but that they actually eat other bugs, so she's suggesting you leave them there."
They both answer: "Yeah leave them…" "Oh god gross, get all the bugs out, please!"
Dad chuckles. "You're such a wimp, Kurt. You and bugs, I tell ya. Squirt, there was this one time a couple years back when…"
"Oh Jesus no, Dan, don't bring that up…"
====
Kurt and Lacey insisted that you take their bed so you could get a good night's rest. You were too tired to object, and by the time Dad was done telling embarrassing stories about Kurt, he'd passed out in their recliner. Based on the light when you wake up, it's already mid-day or later.
'Hey, T, check your phone, I heard it buzzing a ton in your pocket but I couldn't pick it up,' Marceau commands as soon as you wake up.
'Where's Anne?' you ask as you fully come awake. You then feel her, out back behind the house, doing something with a bunch of bugs.
'She's been marshaling her forces all night. And can I say, that's the creepiest shit I've ever seen?'
You can't help but smile as you lean over and grab the phone out of your jeans pocket. 'Can you feel the swarm the way I can?' you ask with a spike of curiosity.
'Oh wow, you can feel all them? No, not at all. What's it like? Is it like being covered in a bajillion bugs all at once?'
You give another small smile. It seems like a reasonable question, but to you they're just little points of electricity. Little bundles of sensory input that you can only really detect when they're close by and are otherwise bits of fuzzy data on the edges of your consciousness. You almost can't even really think of them as "bugs" anymore than you could think of your eyes as "gross squishy orbs of fluid and tissue."
You fish the phone out, recognizing it as the one the E88 left you. You hadn't realized you'd left it on. There's one missed call and one voicemail. It takes you a bit to figure out how to listen to the voicemail.
A smooth baritone comes out of the phone's tinny speaker, "Miss Hebert. The Empire would like to extend our condolences after last night's unpleasantness. Perhaps now you see the difficulties a parahuman in Brockton Bay is up against, and the aggression good people face from the degenerates that clog our streets. We wish you and your father the best, and will be sure to keep an eye out for anyone else who does not respect the boundaries that exist in our society." Click.
That's the second time they've mentioned Dad. Despite the assurances you can't help feel like it's a threat. Just as you move to delete the voicemail, the other phone buzzes. What the hell?! You could've sworn you turned that one off, too.
This one's easier to operate. It's a text and you just have to hit a button right on the screen to bring it up. "Hey u ok? US said to say they keep an eye out for u. Want a meet abt costumes. You say when n were." How did they know about the costumes?! Jesus, the only well-informed people in this city were apparently the villains!
==
You tell Marceau and Anne about the offer from the Undersiders. At the mention of the group's name, both have an almost imperceptible pulse of positive emotions. Warmth and a vague wistfulness from Anne, and a tiny bit of amused pride from Marceau. Based on her posture, you get the sense that Marceau didn't even realize her reaction.
After quickly conferring over it, you decide that there's nothing morally objectionable about selling them costumes, and let them know that you'll meet them tomorrow at the benches next to the playground in Captain Hill's park. They don't seem like the kind of people who would start anything around children, and it's a wide open public space. That and plants which means bugs. All the bugs.
====
You must've been making enough noise for them to hear you downstairs. That or Anne walking up to the bedroom alerted them that you were awake. Dad comes into the room and you can hear Lacey downstairs.
"Hey kiddo," he starts.
You can't help but roll your eyes. "Kiddo" was all he ever seemed to call you until you were seven or eight and made the lofty claim that you weren't a kid anymore. Just to irritate you, he switched to calling you "Your Majesty" or "Highness" or "Princess" for like a solid year. At first, you'd loved it since you were deep into the obligatory Disney-princess phase of childhood. After awhile, your attention turned from princesses to capes, and about that time he'd taken to calling you "squirt," the nickname that lasted from when you were about nine or ten until Mom died and he stopped calling you anything at all.
"Hey, old man."
"So want to hear the creepiest thing you've ever heard?"
"Wait, what?!" There's a spike of amusement from Anne.
"Go ahead, Anne, show her."
A small wave of insects make their way into the room and form a circular node of writhing chitin no more than a foot across. Their buzzing slowly becomes more coordinated until you feel like they're almost singing or something. No wait, not singing… "ello… ello… an youuuu hear eee…?" comes across through the buzzing, inhuman noise.
"Holy crap!"
Anne gives a ghostly grin.
'No fucking fair! I can't talk as a living girl, and now I can't talk as a ghost, but creepy bug girl gets to talk?!'
"Just mime a sock puppet and have it talk," Anne responds.
She bursts out into silent laughter and buzzing imitation laughter when Marceau actually does mime a sock puppet before realizing that sock puppets can't talk.
"Okay so yeah I agree Dad. That's creepy as hell," you suspect that it's even weirder for you since you can feel what Anne's doing to the bugs. Consciously feeling how she manipulates each insect into completely unnatural movements to simulate speech is unnerving.
"Yeah she's spent all night and morning in the back yard working with the bugs. She's got triplines set up all over the property, has been putting insects on every single person in a three block radius, and for the past few hours has been practicing that," he informs you, waving towards the voicebox-pod of insects.
Despite everything you've seen and felt from Anne over the past two days, knowing what a badass she is, you still continue to be impressed. She's improving with her bug powers in leaps and bounds. It's more like she's drawing on some sort of well of past experience rather than just coming up with all this stuff on the fly. That or she's actually a way smarter version of you than you are. Hmph. That's humbling.
"So I should probably call New Wave to thank them for Amy's help with…" you start to choke up a little, "…everything and talk things over with them." Dad's at your side in an instant, hugging you tightly.
Marceau mimes a hugging motion and you can feel a sense of pressure. You're startled out of the moment when Anne lands a butterfly on your nose. You felt it coming, but you're still shocked by the riot of colors when you open your eyes.
==
Two hours later you find yourself once again sitting in Lady Photon's office in the New Wave public headquarters, showered but still in yesterday's grubby clothes. This time, Anne and Dad are with you, along with Marceau.
To Anne's eternal disappointment, Eric isn't there, but all four of New Wave's adult members are.
Neil Pelham, Manpower in costume, comments "Well hello there, Danny, Taylor. I was lead to believe it was just you and Anne. Father of triplets, now, Danny?"
His booming voice and over-seven-foot stature would be intimidating on anyone else, but the man radiates such calm cheer, you're immediately put at ease by his presence.
"I said the same thing!" you practically chirp out.
"Well, they don't eat much so hopefully they won't break the budget," Dad offers.
You do a quick round of introductions. Interestingly, Marceau is able to mime a handshake and actually create an impression of the physical force and shape of an actual handshake, taken to slightly ridiculous proportions. Both Neil and Mark Dallon, Flashbang, find this hilarious and proceed to do cartoonishly large handshakes with each other and Dad. You explain that you're still working out your power, but for now you're pretty sure that no more ghosts will be showing up.
Neil and Sarah are impressed by Marceau's telekinesis and Mark comments, "So let me get this straight: you're a Master with two projections, each of whom can get up to a block away from you, who are each impervious to any normal physical damage, can walk through walls, have their own fairly strong parahuman power, and each of whom is an independent person with a full human intellect, personality, and capacity for battlefield decision-making?"
Wow, when she puts it that way…
Mark smiles, "Taylor, when you grow into your powers, you're going to be an A-lister, for sure."
Carol Dallon, Brandish, cuts through the air with the voice of a practiced litigator. "Now Miss Hebert, we understand that it's been a tough few days, and we've got a lot to talk about."
This kills the mood.
They commiserate with you about the damage to your house and the danger you and Dad were both in. Fleur is never mentioned, but the specter of their estranged brother's dead fiancee hangs heavy over the office. When you mention the "care package" left by E88 and play the voicemail for them, Sarah is reassuring: "Given the… history involved, I think he's absolutely telling the truth."
"He who?" Dad interjects.
"That was Kaiser," Mark answers.
A beat of silence follows as Dad and I digest the fact that the leader of the E88 personally left me a voicemail.
"The Merchants are all borderline insane," Carol picks up the thread of the conversation. If you'd asked me three days ago, I would've assured you with 110% confidence that, as bad as they are, there's literally no way they would randomly attack a new cape in her civilian ID. Those rules my sister discussed with you last time you visited, Taylor, they are absolutely a real thing. There are just things we do not do in cape life, and I would've expected even the Merchants to know not to do them. After yesterday… I just don't know.
"But I can say that Kaiser's absolutely sincere about respecting boundaries, and he's shown in his own brutal way that he really believes that."
Dad seems only marginally satisfied by this.
"We've all talked everything over, Taylor," Sarah continues, "and we'd like to offer you full membership in New Wave. There would be a one-month probationary period, but we'd hold a press conference immediately announcing that you're a member. That should go a long way towards…"
She trails off as she sees the look on your face. The offer of full membership is gratifying, but for some reason it just doesn't feel right to you. Add to that, both Anne and Marceau had a sort of subconscious negative reaction to the idea of joining. While you're not entirely sure what to make of the emotional links you have to them, you're learning that you need to trust them. They're part of the team every bit as much as you are. More than that… they're family. They're a part of who you are.
You can't just reject an offer like this outright, so you quickly think of something that can try to strike a compromise: "That's such an amazing offer, it really is. I just feel like ever since I woke up in the hospital, I don't know… everything's been moving so fast. Too fast to really think. I definitely want to work with you, and I'd be happy to make you costumes basically for free, but maybe…"
You've got everyone's full attention now. Dad looks like he can't believe what he's hearing. You muster your courage and continue, "… I was thinking of being a sort of affiliate hero with New Wave." You hate that you end up making it sound more like a question than a confident assertion.
"And what, in your mind, would that entail?" Carol asks, voice dripping with dissatisfaction.
"Um, I guess we could still do the press conference and announce that I'm affiliated with New Wave? That I believe in the idea of accountability for heroes, especially in light of my own circumstances? And that I'd be outfitting you with the first of my new costumes, and could maybe go on some patrols with you some time?"
"That sounds an awful lot like joining the group," Mark gently offers.
"I know but it's just… I don't know. I still haven't figured myself out yet, and Marceau just joined us and she's got a lot to say and I need to talk it over with Dad and my…" you pause, searching for the word, "…sisters."
A pulse of warmth and gratitude comes from Anne and Marceau.
You get a deep sense of satisfaction – you've made the right choice here. They're not projections. They're not just ghosts or your power or something. They're your sisters in every possible sense of the word. You don't need to join a team. You all are a team. Team Taylor.
You give an incongruous little giggle, getting a strange look from Dad.
Mark has been talking, again in that gentle tone, "…certainly understand, Taylor. We won't push you or rush you into anything. It'd be best if we hold the press conference immediately, though. Even calling yourself a New Wave affiliate will make it clear that you're associated with a group and will offer you some measure of protection. It's the least we can do for the protection you're offering those of us without a Brute rating," he nods towards Neil.
Carol continues, "As my husband says, we respect your decision. I will also add, I spoke with a partner in my firm, Alan Barnes," you stiffen involuntarily and practically feel Marceau growl. "And he told me what you said to the police about not wanting to press charges against his daughter even after… what she did.
"That impressed all of us. Being parahumans ourselves, we know what it means to go through what we've all been through, and the idea of forgiving the person responsible, well…"
Here Neil picks up, "None of us did such a thing. If I'm being honest, kid, what you told the cops about her still having good in her, well that's just about one of the most heroic things I could imagine. When I got my own powers, I…" he trails off.
Carol and Sarah are both hushed, seemingly locked for a moment in very bad shared memories. Mark says, "We're here for you, Taylor. Whether you're a member of New Wave, or an affiliate, or just a very strong young woman who's had to handle far too much far too young, we're always here to support another hero in Brockton Bay."
==
After that, things move quickly. Being both a well-connected attorney and a superhero provides Brandish with a lot of pull when it comes to getting things together quickly. All eight members of New Wave gather for the first time in a long while (and Marceau seems to share Anne's appreciation for Eric's… costume) and arrange themselves in a semi-circle around you and Lady Photon on the steps of city hall. You're facing dozens of reporters and struck by a deep feeling of how surreal your life has gotten. Less than 18 hours ago, druggies were blowing a hole in your living room and now you're standing in a press conference. She announces that you've joined as an affiliate of New Wave, and some general platitudes about accountability and so on. The questions come thick and fast, but for now they decide to hold off on any answers, with Lady Photon herself ending the press conference by scooping you up and carrying you off into the sky.
You can't help but think she's just showing off.
====
The next day you're seated on a bench facing the swing set at the Captain's Hill playground. Anne is roaming through the bushes to your left, organizing her forces. Marceau is standing behind you, arms crossed, looking more like a mime making fun of the idea of a bodyguard rather than an actual bodyguard.
There were only a few folks with kids playing when you arrived, but your presence (or really Marceau's ghostly appearance) quickly scared them away.
Oh well.
'Here they come,' Anne tells you. An unremarkable blue sedan pulls up and stops on the edge of the park. Lisa gets out of the driver's side and the passenger side disgorges a tall guy in a motorcycle helmet and black riding leathers. Black smoke-like stuff bellows around the edges of his body making it hard to tell exactly how tall he is or to clearly watch him as he walks towards you.
'That darkness is weird. I've got bugs in it, no problem, but they feel…'
'It's thick? Like they're moving through water?'
'Yeah, you feel that too?'
Lisa approaches. She shoots a smile at you and then looks back at Marceau. Her smile falters, then slides off her face. She looks even more gobsmacked than when she first saw Anne. Her eyes glaze over. The tall guy grips her shoulder. She doesn't react. His helmet turns sharply to you and Marceau and he shakes her forcefully.
You can't make out what he's saying, between the helmet and the darkness. His posture gets more rigid and waves of darkness start flowing off his body when Lisa suddenly snaps back. She lets out a long, slow, shaky breath and gives the guy a weak nod. You feel the gnat on her head move with her shaking her head 'no' slightly and then another nod.
She walks up and offers her hand.
"What was that?" you ask.
"Oh sorry," she gives a fake little half-laugh, "Something about Anne there seems to really freak me out and I just kinda had a flashback to when I was a kid and… no really it was nothing. Don't worry about it."
This sounds sound unbelievably false to you, but you decide to simply stand up and shake her hand. You're not here to be her friend, nor friends with the villains she represents. This is going to be a business arrangement, pure and simple.
The big guy's name is Grue and he offers a firm handshake. After dispelling all of his darkness, you can get a better sense of him. He's big, but not huge. His voice sounds like he still might be pretty young himself. Makes sense they'd send whoever their youngest member was. Adults were always acting like somehow teenagers and young people would naturally get along better with each other than with an adult. It's like they all forgot what it was like to go to high school and how unbelievably shitty teenagers could be to each other, even setting aside extreme situations like yours.
Grue opens the discussion, "Our sources were able to take a quick peek at the analysis done by the folks that New Wave hired to look over the cloth sample you gave them."
You start to get an offended look on your face and Lisa just laughs, "Hey, you knew they were supervillains, right? A little bit of hacking to read a tech report is pretty mild, all things considered."
Before you can even react, Grue is already talking again, "We'd like to commission one full-body costume made for Lisa here. The rest of us have super-powers, but we need to make sure our unpowered liaison is appropriately protected."
Lisa's got an almost feral grin on her face. I suppose when you spend all day as the one non-cape in the group's dealings, you can end up feeling a bit inadequate. The idea that the group would pay for her to get a costume first must have her pretty stoked.
"Okay. I have to make costumes for New Wave first but you'll be my first client after that. Since my house was, you know, blown up, I'm kinda set back a bit. So it's going to be probably a two month wait or more. And it's gonna cost," you hesitate for just a moment. Lady Photon had said you could ask for tens of thousands of dollars for a single costume, but you still haven't really digested that idea. "twelve thousand dollars," you finish.
Grue and Lisa look at each other. How much can she possibly see through his helmet? After a beat, you amend what you'd said, "I can't do any less than ten thousand…"
Lisa cuts you off, "Sorry, Taylor we were only hesitating because we thought it was going to cost more. Tell you what, we've got access to several buildings in the north docks. We'll give you ten thousand plus set you up with a workshop where you can store all your spiders, if you agree that your next three costumes after mine will also be made for us at the same ten thousand price."
A quick mental conference with Anne and Marceau and you decide to agree. After all, with Anne's situational awareness you'll know plenty in advance if there's some sort of trick at play. You agree and Lisa says she'll text you with an address within 48 hours. She even suggests you could bring your father to see the workspace.
What is it with supervillains and mentioning Dad? It really is starting to feel like a none-too-subtle threat. Literally at the moment you have that thought, Lisa smirks. "Oh, don't worry Taylor. I'm a teenager myself and the Undersiders were all once teenagers too. If you want to keep this separate from your father, we'll definitely understand."
Grrr.
====
The next few days pass quickly. Lisa was better than her word – it's not just a workshop, it's an entire floor of a small warehouse lined with shelves filled with hundreds and hundreds of empty terraria. Whatever thieving these guys do, it must pay well to give them the resources to get this set up so quickly.
Lisa actually presents you with the title to the place, and it's been made out to you. How the hell can a 15 year old even own property, much less an entire warehouse?! The mysteries just keep piling up ever since you woke up to Anne at your hospital bed.
=
Kurt and Lacey object to the idea of you and Dad moving out and staying at one of those long-term hotel places. They scrounge up a cot for you and even go so far as to replace their couch with a pull-out bed version for Dad.
The PRT informs you that you'll be allowed back into your house in a few days to gather personal effects or have a contractor come see about beginning repairs. You won't be able to stay there until it's fixed, though. Seems the part of the wall that got taken out included a support beam, so it'd be dangerous to live there until it's fixed back up.
=
You spend a big chunk of your time playing around with Marceau's powers and seeing how well you can sense (decently) and control (poorly) her telekinesis. You discover that she can create large gusts of wind by doing that fake-walking-into-the-wind thing. Anne is very excited by this and explains that one of her big limitations is moving the swarm quickly. Bugs can go faster than you'd expect when they're moving in a straight line under perfect human direction, but they're still just bugs. With a boost from Marceau's wind, she can reposition the swarm much more quickly. Marceau's telekinesis is otherwise pretty versatile and powerful. She can mime ropes that seem to be able to lift nearly a ton of weight, forcefields that can withstand an awful lot of battering, and other sorts of "cartoon physics" invisible constructs.
====
At the end of the week you get a big hit of bad news. The PRT was transferring the Merchants from their holding cells on the Rig to a parahuman detention center to await trial when Mush attacked. Somehow he'd managed to gather and organize every warm body that'd ever had anything to do with the Merchants and simply overwhelm the PRT with a tide of angry, screaming junkies. Mush made off with Skidmark and with Squealer's body. Whirlygig was in a separate transport and moved out of the city.
All of which would normally have very little impact on your already catastrophically low opinion of the PRT until you get a text from Lisa: "Hey Skidmark on rampage bc Squealer coma. Offered 250k 4 your body or 500k 4 u alive. Heads up."
==
Shit.
==
Oh and look at that, the counter rolls up to 325/700 and you feel another burst of that same energy.
It's like the universe is rewarding you with more powers just so it can crap on you at the same time.
====Choices!
Time to deal with the Merchants! What do you do?Spoiler
Level up! What do you do with your level up energy surge?
PRT/PRO INTERNAL MESSENGER v23.9177.23.1 SECURITY LEVEL: 4
Present in Chat: Piggot, Emily/PRT ENE DIR/#24601; ASSAULT/PRO ENE HER(prv)/#11235
Piggot, Emily/PRT ENE DIR/#24601: Take B and do Wards potential first contact. Taylor Hebert. BBGH rm 219.
ASSAULT/PRO ENE HER(prv)/#11235: Whoa. Locker girl?
Piggot: Dont call her that. Incident reports make it prime TE material and the doc just called it in.
ASSAULT: Thrt lvl?
Piggot: 1/very low or 0/none
ASSAULT: Its Velocity's turn?
Piggot: You and B are at 75 success rate. Make it 80.
ASSAULT: Can't count Backslash poor kid died before signing up. And Kid Win and Reynard would've signed up if anyone talked to them.
Piggot: Assault, do I need to ask Armsmaster to make this an official PRO order?
ASSAULT: uhh…
Piggot: I thought so. Roll out right now. You're already late. Meet Lt. Netherore in the Physician Lounge on floor 2 before going in.
ASSAULT: on it
==
PRO/PRT OFFICIAL COMMUNICATION
FORM AA-227: AFTER-ACTION REPORT INVOLVING RECRUITMENT OUTREACH (WARDS)
FILED BY: ASSAULT/mkv
SENT TO: OFFICE OF THE DIRECTOR, PRT ENE
cc: EMILY PIGGOT; ASSAULT; OFFICE OF PROTECTORATE LEADER ENE; ARMSMASTER; OFFICE OF INTERNAL OVERSIGHT; LEGAL AFFAIRS OFFICE; RECRUITING OVERSIGHT; NONPROTECTORATE PARAHUMAN CONTACT ARCHIVES
DATE INCIDIENT: 2009-11-30
DATE FILED: 2009-12-03
PROPERTY DAMAGE ESTIMATE LEVEL: N/A
VIOLENCE LEVEL: N/A
PROTECTORATE MEMBERS INVOLVED: Assault, Battery
PRT OFFICERS INVOVLED: Lt. Macintosh K. Veekie, Sgt. Adam A. Cooper
NON-PROTECTORATE PARAHUMANS INVOLVED: Tinker [name redacted] [Name Updated: Kid Win WRD#6688714]
PROTECTORATE FATALITIES: N/A
PRT FATALITIES: N/A
NON-PROTECTORATE PARAHUMAN FATALITIES: N/A
NON-PARAHUMAN PARTICIPANT FATALITIES: N/A
BYSTANDER FATALITIES: N/A
FATALITY ATTRIBUTION(S): N/A
ACTION SUMMARY: PRO and PRT made first contact with a new Tinker in response to voicemail on PRT recruitment hotline (see audio recording file A#6688995). Discussion was held in [KID WIN]'s home. [KID WIN] was amenable to Wards recruitment and demonstrated strongly positive feelings towards Battery and especially Assault. [KID WIN]'s parents were more reserved, expressing concerns about danger to Wards. Conversation ended with a commitment from [KID WIN] to come PRO HQ the following Monday after school and to sign up, but with both parents insisting they would come in to 'discuss the matter further.' (see full transcript of mkv's recording file #6688289). Later that same day, [KID WIN]'s father called PRT headquarters for further discussion and left a voicemail. Lt. Veekie returned the call within the hour and had an extensive discussion with the father. (see file A#66885347). [KID WIN]'s mother made nine separate calls to PRT headquarters over the next 48 hours. Lt. Veekie returned each call within the hour. (see summary report #6688321). The following Monday, 2009-12-03, [KID WIN] and his parents arrived at PRO HQ and completed all Wards enrollment paperwork. [KID WIN]'s mother made a point of commenting that she was unable to reach Assault, despite asking for him multiple times, but that Lt. Veekie was incredibly helpful and reassured her that the Wards program was the best choice for [KID WIN]. (see summary report #6688326) (see recruitment report #2874).
==
PRT/PRO INTERNAL MESSENGER v23.9177.23.1 SECURITY LEVEL: 6
Present in Chat: BATTERY, PRO ENE HER/#99277; ASSAULT/PRO ENE HER(prv.)/#11235
BATTERY/PRO ENE HER/#99277: What's up, sexy buns?
ASSAULT/PRO ENE HER(prv.)/#11235: Baby.
BATTERY: ???
ASSAULT: I screwed up
ASSAULT: Bad.
BATTERY: oh cmon
ASSAULT: Like really really bad
ASSAULT: Bad
BATTERY: Shit What happened?
ASSAULT: You know how Mack always handles outside paperwork stuff for me
BATTERY: Who?
ASSAULT: Mack You know, Lt Veekie?
BATTERY: You make him do paperwork for you? Jesus, Ethan.
BATTERY: Do you even have the first idea why he'd be willing to do that?
ASSAULT: Hes gay? And I'm hot
BATTERY: Fuck. Well, at least you're not an oblivious asshole when you're manipulating the guy
ASSAULT: So anyway I totally forgot about the NDA paperwork on the med staff at the hosp since Mack handled that the last four time
BATTERY: Oh.
BATTERY: Oh no.
BATTERY: Oh god.
BATTERY: Oh god, Ethan.
BATTERY: Ethan seven people died when they showed up at her house.
ASSAULT: Think theyll grant you an annulment when they send me to the Birdcage?
BATTERY: That's not funny. I'm coming back to the Rig right now.
ASSAULT: Don't
ASSAULT: Just finish your patrol
ASSAULT: No reason to get us both in trouble
====
The Warlord leaned back in his throne. He allowed the girl to continue her work, giving the barest grunts as she brought him to completion. She immediately backed away, led off by a lieutenant.
His best friend, perhaps only friend, moved forward from his silent vigil at the back of the room. Approaching his side, the man began, "And what of this thing with the bugs and the Merchants? We claim the territory but do no real business there. Yet they were uncomfortably close to one of our backup safehouses."
"The child is strong for one so new, to put down a dozen men so quickly. One bee makes no honey, yes, but a hundred hundred bees collapse a gang with a single strike."
The Warlord's friend nodded.
"Shall I take action?"
"For the offense of bringing their tinker monstrosity into our territory, kill four. Leave the garbage one and the rest to wallow in the indignity of falling to a child."
The man couldn't help but smile. So many years after coming to America, his best friend, perhaps only friend, continued to cling to the superstitions of his two homelands. Always it was this: "Kill four, Oni Lee," "Maim four, Oni Lee," "Pay the family eight thousand dollars, Oni Lee," "Pay the widow eighty-eight thousand dollars, Oni Lee."
He faded back from his friend's throne and set to his simple task.
====
"I think you're overreacting," Newter repeated.
"You think anything but lying around and doing nothing is over-reacting," Spitfire shot back.
Faultline made a sharp, sideways chopping motion with her hand. From any other boss, such a gesture would be a mild sign of irritation and an indication to stop the bickering. From a woman who could level a skyscraper with such a gesture, it was a bit more ominous.
"Why is it that other cities can go a decade without a serious breach of the rules, and yet Brockton has seen two in the past five years?
"Gregor? Thoughts?" Faultline found herself relying on Gregor's input more and more. His mind bent in subtle and unusual ways – perhaps some alterations to his brain accompanied the alterations to his body? Yet, he seemed to be the only other person on the team with anything like a strategic mind. Labyrinth was lost to her worlds, Newter was a hopeless hedonist, and Spitfire's response to everything was excessive caution.
He smiled, the tiny mollusk shells at the corners of his mouth bunching, "For once I agree with Newter. I think this will be nothing. And also I agree with dear Emily. We don't must leave, but good to take a longer task out of the state for some weeks, now, yes?"
Faultline nodded. It was what she'd already decided, but it was good to gather confirmation.
"Okay. I've been sitting on three leads out on the west coast. Pack for an extended trip. You've got twelve hours."
====
Her eyes skimmed over the words, again and again. She wasn't taking in any new information. The mechanical movements of her eyes across the few paragraphs that had been posted on PHO were just mindless repetition while her mind spun out into panic.
They attacked her in her home. They attacked her in her home. They attacked her in her home.
Her mind's needle skipped, again and again. Fabric, sewing needles, and thread spun behind her in a mindless jumble.
I have to get out. I can't stay here. I have to get out. They attacked her in her home.
She panicked long into the night.
====
"Yes Tattletale, I will cover the full costs," Coil replied in irritation.
"If you're so impressed by the report, why are we only asking for one costume?"
"Having a truly extraordinary talent and actually being able to use it to effectively execute tasks are two very different things."
"You're as subtle as a brick."
"Do not test my patience, Sarah. It has been a trying day."
He ended the connection.
Again, he skimmed the preliminary report that Armsmaster had filed from the scene of the attack. As ever, a new trigger presented him with a crisis and an opportunity. Another stable, predictable, business-minded rogue along the lines of Parian was a boon for him. One that was racially unsuited to the ABB or Merchants and ideologically opposed to the E88 was almost perfect. With his huge pool of intermediaries, he could secure the services of this rogue for a long time to come.
Certainly he would ensure that she occasionally did work for others to help boost the city's image, and allowing him to act as an intermediary without her knowledge. Pay Coil a sum of money, or (better yet) owe Coil a favor and he'll get you one of those spidersilk costumes. A powerful tool in his toolbox. Even more impressive, being able to outfit a few squads of his men with both Tinkertech laser rifles and what were essentially Tinkertech costumes would serve as a huge force multiplier for him over the coming years.
He'd been busy splitting timelines managing several business affairs for the past week. He'd considered taking the girl in with a few splits, but fate had saved him from that wasted effort. A girl with a projection that can walk through walls had her uses, but had he sent his teams in, they would've been decimated by the girl's swarm. Just as well the Merchants revealed her true power, rather than making him waste time, energy, and a timeline to discover such. Best to continue business as usual and place the girl in the "opportunity" rather than "crisis" column. If she ever made the mistake of re-labeling herself – intentionally or otherwise – he could simply go after her father.
Tunelessly humming to himself, Coil turned his attention to an email from one of Accord's Ambassadors.
While reading the email and pulling up a dossier on the Travelers, Coil was suddenly struck with a thought. The bug girl was, by all accounts, a heroic rogue. Friendly talks with New Wave, but no real overt actions until she drove off the Merchants. Perhaps it would be best if he bankrolled a team of heroic or vigilante rogues. His connections with the PRT gave him a strong footing on the government-hero side of things, but his asset portfolio was missing an independent team like New Wave.
He moved the window with the summary of the Travelers to the side. He pulled up the Undersiders and skimmed them over quickly. They needed a fifth, but the psychological makeup of the group suggested they'd have a very hard time adding another.
He opened several loose files. Trainwreck. Brand new, still very much under the radar. The Thinker child he was still investigating. And Circus. A mercenary who could certainly be paid enough to play at the hero and to tolerate others. He smiled to himself, opening a new file, pasting the information on Hebert at the top of the list.
====
Skiddy was in the back of my baby's cabin, waving that ridiculous baton around (he called it his "dick stick" and would make me suck on it in front of the others as punishment sometimes). He was screaming into the PA system he'd made me add, with speakers that blared out, front, back, and sideways. Something, something, shit-turds, waving the cumrag flag, showing those slit-shitting chinks that we could take their territory, too.
I could barely hear him over the glorious roar of my baby's 14 separate engines. I'd used six kinds of combustion and fucking invented eight more just to give this glorious creation more power, more raw awesome than God's own farts. The comment about chinks caught my attention for sec. Wasn't Hop Li or whatever his name was a chink and our best earner and like Skiddy's top normal dog? Dude brought in more scratch selling that club drug shit to the all the good white kids than any other three guys in the Merchants, combined.
Whatever. Not my job to worry about it. I was just getting completely drenched, both from sweat and excitement, at Skids finally letting me take my big girl out for a show around town. Nine gun emplacements and a main cannon that could take down the goddamn PRT HQ if I ever used my special rounds in it. Boss man wanted us rolling through the northeast docks area, scaring the straights, and making it clear this was our turf now, not the ABB's.
I was secretly worried as shit about Lung. Not for myself, of course. I would be fine, sure, sure. But for my baby. She was a big tough noisy bitch but if Lung came at us all ramped up, he could do some serious damage before I could get us out of here.
Skiddy had us slow down to barely ten miles an hour, so he could scream at our other boys in the cars, and shout his declaration of ownership. Weird fucking place to do it – it was all just normal homes around here.
But I'd long since learned not to question my man. He had his ways. Information just… came to him. I never knew how he did it, but if he was screaming his head off here, then the slit-shitting chinks must have a safe house or something…
Gah, fuck! A bee few like right into my eye. I couldn't help it - I jerked the wheel slightly, moving my head backwards. Skiddy was shouting at me. Fuck. Fuck. Distract him:
"Hey Skids, want to fire the main cannon into the sky? Let's roar at these fucking chinks and show them who the real lion in the jungle is?"
Oh thank god that distracted him. I brought my little love bug to a stop while Skids moved to the main cannon controls. I just barely had time to get my noise-blockers on before he thumbed the trigger.
Shit, shit another fucking bee! What the fuck there's like four of them!! I was so distracted swatting at them, I couldn't even actually pay attention to the rapture of noise and destructive power at my baby's voice shouting into the sky.
GAAAAAHHHHH!!! Fuck! Cockroaches!
WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCKING SHITTING EVER LOVING SHITTING FUCK!
I let out an "oof" as a sudden pressure slammed me forward against the controls. Jesus, did Skiddy just set a push zone inside the goddamn cabin, what the fuck is he think… I could barely turn my head to look back at him. The force pushed me to the side, making the whole tank spin out of line with the road, aiming its main cannon towards the sidewalk and houses.
What the fuck, what the fuck… my heart hammered in my chest – the cabin was like crawling full of bugs. Skids had laid down a small field to try and push them away, and his wild flapping at the bugs suddenly set him off balance. He fell into his own force zone.
Oh no --- his hand reached out at anything to stabilize himself, and he grabbed the trigger mechanism for the main cannon. I opened my mouth to scream a warning, but mosquitoes and flies flooded down my throat as my baby bucked again with another shot haphazardly firing towards the sidewalk and some random house.
I gagged. I coughed. I tried to spit. I crunched down, trying to kill the bugs in my mouth. Fingers jammed into my mouth failed to scoop them out… they just kept coming. I tried to suck in a breath and got precious little air but several squirming flies…