11.2
11.1
It took Vicky the sum total of around five minutes to get both Phyton and Melder talking, and you couldn't help but be impressed. She had the kind of social skills that only came from a combination of being a natural extrovert and years of public relations training. Just one or the other couldn't do it, and while you didn't really want to put yourself into those kinds of positions it was difficult not to be a little envious.
Not that you were planning on making attempts to emulate her anytime soon. Given the choice, you were much happier to be in your workshop tinkering or hanging around with one or two people – and with both of the New Wave sisters in town and a hundred small ideas buzzing around in your head for tinkering, you were looking forward to the opportunity to do both.
When Vicky made her way back over, a handful of moments of later, and passed on that Phyton was happy to visit the Botanical Gardens with you, you were pleased. Of all of the members of the Atlanta Wards, Phyton was the one who felt perhaps the most distant. Nothing specific had done that, but you thought that there was a chance it was simply a difference in your approach to heroism (a practice that had, you could admit, become more or less your entire life in a way that Phyton didn't seem to prefer) and the age difference. Without a mission together to bridge the gap, things had simply stayed a little further apart than they had with the other members of the team.
Capitalising on Vicky's return, you didn't want to waste much more time. While it was true that you had already given the sisters the majority of the important information on the upcoming meeting with Tritium and the status of various investigations in the city, having them there in person to ask questions and backing that up with the relative security of headquarters made you feel much more secure in going into detail. It didn't take long for you to outline the situation as it stood: they were going to meet Tritium and she had an issue with radiation and a terse attitude that didn't seem to appreciate the authorities. If it went well, it stood a chance of at least de-escalating tensions with one of the city's larger gangs, but the reality of some leaks in the police force meant that you couldn't draw on the full legal power of the city overall.
Vicky seemed to take it in stride, and Amy – while certainly less outwardly confident – didn't seem too rattled either. You weren't particularly surprised: the police didn't generally do much in Brockton Bay either, so it wasn't an enormous chance in circumstances, and the two of them had more than enough experience for anyone's lifetime in getting involved in potentially dangerous situations.
You remembered your first night out as a cape, looking for criminals, alongside Vicky. She'd been practiced and polished even then, and things hadn't gotten any quieter in the world over the last few months.
Social interaction made much easier by having everyone acquainted and the business out of the way, you enjoyed being on the edge of both parties. Hovering near Alec and Rachel, you were able to dip in and out of conversation with the two of them as things came up – Alec, distracted by his handheld console and Rachel, taciturn more generally, were not inclined to long conversation in so much company but they were still available for chatter. Amy joined them, perched on the edge of the couch, and seemed to appreciate their lack of conversational demand just as much as Vicky enjoyed balancing between speaking to you, firing comments over the length of the room towards Phyton, and making sure to pull Amy in for a word every now and again.
You couldn't remember where you had first heard it, but there was some quote out there that said that a sign of true intelligence is not when someone makes you feel dumb when you hear them wax eloquent, but when they elevate you and make you feel smarter for the pleasure of having heard them. Whether or not such a concept mapped onto social intelligence, you couldn't be sure, but if it did then Vicky was the surest proof of it; there was the temptation to be a social creature in her presence, and it didn't seem to have anything at all to do with her aura.
Some people just had it, whatever it is was.
The conversations nevertheless died down over time. Leaving to go to her volunteering position, Rachel exited the room with only a brief farewell to you, and an influx of calls to console saw Melder's attention whisked away once more as well. Looking at the clock and noticing the vanishing time, you remembered that you still had at least one more thing to do before heading home, and determined that it would be for the best to see the sisters out safely beforehand.
'We can wait for you, if you want?' Vicky asked.
'I don't know how long I'm going to be, and you should get back to your hotel room before it gets dark.'
'We can take care of ourselves, you know? Don't need to worry.'
That they could take care of themselves wasn't in doubt, but you didn't see any need to risk things.
'I know, but I might be in there for an hour and you'd just be sat doing nothing. Way better for you to go get food and then we'll meet up tomorrow and spend the whole day together. I'm sorry to cut this off, I just need to get some things done.'
'Remember what I said about needing a break? This doesn't look like much of a break to me.'
You sighed.
'I'm getting there, I promise. There's just a few more days where I need to get things done, and then I'll be able to take some time off. I swear.'
It didn't happen often, but getting both of the Dallon sisters to give you a sceptical eye-brow raise at once was something that you thought that you would remember for rather a long time, though you weren't about to point it out to them. Worse than having either think they'd identified a soft-spot would be having them know they'd drawn the conclusion at the same time. Reinforced by the either, their judgement would only amplify.
Watching them leave, you kept an eye out until they passed far beyond Oneironaut's bubble. Their hotel wasn't incredibly far, and there didn't seem to be anything major going on that would draw attention towards them, especially with their arrival having happened recently enough that word wouldn't spread.
Giving them some kind of emergency beacon for next time might have been a good idea, and you felt your hands itch at the thought of tinkering again. Several ideas were on the brink and you were half-convinced that the next time you got into your workshop they would have to drag you out hours later, but you couldn't give into the temptation quite yet. There were things to do.
Heading down to the holding cells didn't take long; the entirety of headquarters was large, but laid out simply and without much in the way of obstruction. Long, mostly empty hallways led to longer, emptier ones, and the guards that stood watch saw very little need for more words than were needed for function. It was an efficient arrangement, if nothing else.
Your clearance was assured, and you had to remind yourself to thank the guards on the way out for making life easy.
Something about the entire situation felt at once familiar and incredibly distant. The last time you had done something like this had been in the aftermath of arresting the Undersiders, and Alec had been in one of the cells you'd visited; Tattletale, your contact for the upcoming Thinker meeting, had been in one of the others. Anticipation for progress and potentially unlocking some way to move forward against the Endbringers was one thing, but you didn't much fancy the idea of seeing her again. She'd been none too pleasant the first few times and you'd given her very little reason to treat you kindly the next time around.
Fingers were crossed, but it was without much in the way of confidence.
Burroughs seemed like much less of a likely ally, though with your planned truce with the Runners there was always a chance.
He was sat, awake, in his cell. He seemed a little taller than you remembered him, but there was always a chance that the perception was simply caused by the lack of coverage; his overall costume had been bulky, and as you saw him now, his prison garb was minimal. It covered him from neck to ankles, but it fit closely, as though they were trying to avoid giving anywhere to hide or conceal an object, and his face was uncovered other than with a domino mask.
Racking your brains, you attempted to remember if Brockton Bay had seized the costumes from the villains that had been arrested, but you didn't think that they had.
Unlike in the Bay, there was no communal cell area; Burroughs was being held in isolation, and if Scald and Slag were nearby, you couldn't see them. You'd have to request specific access from the guards.
'Hey,' you said, cursing the way your voice echoed from the walls. The entire space was more reflective than you wanted, and you instinctively reached out for Static to dull the noise only to feel it slip through your fingers and fail. 'Can we speak?'
'I get the feeling you're going to.'
His voice sounded hoarse, and you wondered if he was well. There was little of the bass in it from when you had first arrested him, and you wondered if jail wasn't doing him much good.
'I'm not looking to rant at you. I just have a few questions, if you wouldn't mind answering.'
'Can't tell you if I would mind until I've heard them. Might as well shoot your shot.'
Sitting on the edge of his bed – a featureless oblong – he still hadn't looked up at you. His hair hung around his face, and you could see that he was shaking slightly, though whether it was from the temperature or fatigue or something else, you couldn't tell.
'When I brought you in, you said something about me not understand how things worked. I don't know what you meant by that. I guess we could start there.'
Burroughs looked up at you, his eyes set back into darker hollows than you thought perhaps healthy.
'I wasn't trying to be smart with you, it's just a fact. You just got here. The city's fucked, kid. Nothing is going to get better on this track. Most people don't even want it to, they make out good from it being fucked, and that includes the law. You come in here thinking you can just go around arresting people and then the place will be safe, and I don't blame you cause you're wetter than a swamp behind the ears, but that's a moron's way of thinking.' He said, laying back on his bed and putting more distance between the two of you. 'If you don't mind me saying, that is.'
Dismissing whether you minded or not, you couldn't just accept that.
'It's very convenient for a drug dealing criminal to say that arresting criminals won't help, but I'd have to be a moron to just take your word for it. Seems pretty obvious to me that if you uproot the people going around causing problems, there'll be fewer problems.'
'Sure, but you ever tried asking yourself why there's people causing problems in the first place? Look, I'm not good at this shit. You want to know about the politics of it all, there are better people to ask. Roc'd persuade you in five minutes if you could talk to him without trying to punch a hole in his face. S'normally how you guys react to a criminal. God forbid you try and hear someone out.'
'Giving away too much would be against protocol, but we're in the early stages of trying to reach out to the Runners and see what kind of conversations we can have. There's no need for things to get violent if they don't have to.'
'Yeah but your bar for when it has to isn't too high. So far as I can see, you're a punch first, ask questions later kind of gal. Evidenced by my current lodgings.'
You weren't interested in pursuing any sort of self-pitying.
'I don't remember punching you.'
'Only because you didn't have to. Didn't even say hello before you started throwing powers around. You probably won't have as much luck with Roc. Try and go in all guns blazing with him like you did me and the punching'll come. Maybe try using your words next time, kid.'
He pulled his legs up onto his bed and faced the wall, and you got the distinct feeling that he wasn't much interested in continuing the conversation. Not willing to try and extract information by being pushy, you turned and left, muttering your thanks to the guards as you made your way out.
You weren't entirely sure what to think of things. Ultimately, you supposed that waiting until you could talk to the Runners more directly – including, apparently, the ones who actually knew how to talk to someone – was going to be more productive, but you couldn't help but linger a little on how dismissive Burroughs had been about your work. There was no doubting that cleaning up Brockton Bay had been successful. From your brief checks on PHO, the crime rate there had dropped, and while that wouldn't last forever as new villains moved in to fill whatever power vacuum existed, it gave the people there at least a brief reprieve.
The citizens of Atlanta deserved that too, and you were stronger now than you had been in the Bay. Qualia alone made a huge difference. Locking people up and throwing away the key didn't solve every problem (Assault's thoughts on the subject arose unbidden in your mind) but it wasn't as though just leaving things as it was seemed a tenable solution either.
As you made your way out of the holding cells and back into the main premises of HQ, you found yourself noting as Oneironaut's bubble slid off and on depending on which turns you made in the hallway. It seemed too coincidental that you'd make an arrest of Octave and then soon after, the Protectorate quarters were hit with a zone.
Quizzing Percentile, you made a few quick enquiries about the likelihood of something being planned to target any Protectorate members in specific in the next week or so, doing your best to word it so as to avoid Oneironaut. Getting an inconclusive answer was the last thing you needed after your last conversation's uncertainty.
A response of just a touch below fifty percent didn't do much to assuage your concerns.
Actions Remaining:
- Tinkering tasks: adjust anti-master protocol to activate automatically via heat-seeking (0), medical usage (2), anti-Endbringer weaponry (6), cybernetics (7), nanobot containment devices
- Meet with the Triumvirate for Overcharging, and the Thinker team on Friday 10th June
- Meet with Tritium on the 6th with Vicky and Amy, and see what happens
- Tell Doctor Guattari about growing discomfort with crowds
- Team training, including Qualia test with Rachel - Monday 6th
- Visits to the dog park with Rachel (5th) Botanical Gardens with Phyton and Aquarium (Wednesday 8th) as part of Atlanta Sisters Tour
Plans are made, Burroughs interrogation has given Taylor some thoughts, and Taylor's feeling the urge to tinker. Percentile's giving us a 48% chance that something is going on that will be aimed at a Protectorate member in the next week or so, though exactly what, who, or how is currently unknown - this might be an avenue for your future enquiries if you have ideas on how to most efficiently ask Percentile. Until then, there are many more actions you could vote for; try to aim for things that might work towards our currently filled list of goals!
Until then, vote away for whatever's on your mind!
[X][Action]Write-in
Taylor's Questions
Taylor now has a system of asking daily questions whenever she has some left over from the day.
You may ask any questions using the format:
11.2
Sunday, 5th June
One of the better things about Vicky being such a confident and self-motivated person was that despite you playing host to the Dallon sisters in Atlanta, you still had some time for yourself. Itinerary loosely planned, though with gaps in the schedule for spending time with you – and Rachel and Phyton, you had discovered the day before – the sisters had already arranged their morning and were off doing something that you were sure was worth the travel time.
You, on the other hand, were able to sneak into the workshop and get your hands on some metal.
It was strange. When your tinker power had first come through you had been able to suppress most of the usual fuguing instincts that you had heard about other tinkers experiencing, and hadn't been pushed to do more than a little planning and scheming per day. Maximum capacity was being reached in your mind, though, and the longer you spent away from the workshop the more you found your thoughts being hijacked by circuits and gadgets, metal and wire, cables and connections, capacitance and voltage – and it was starting to get annoying.
Feeling the catharsis of sitting back down at your station and starting to work with your hands again had stripped away so much of that stress that it was almost like going on vacation before the vacation was even due to start.
And you were glad of it. The problems that had you stuck seemed so clear, and you were making good progress. Afternoon plans were going to make sure you didn't have an endless stream of accomplishments, but you were determined to get at least something done before you headed off to spend time with Rachel and the sisters at Piedmont, and your dedication had been rewarded.
The idea to make your anti-mastering protocol connect to your sensors and keep a general feed of information, allowing the mastering filter to snap on automatically when human sized heat-signatures came into range had been an idea that was knocking around in your head for a little while now and you were putting the last touches on it when Flashdrive had bundled into the workshop, smoke billowing from the back of his costume.
'Are you alright?' You asked, only half-sure that it was something you were supposed to be concerned about.
'Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just things blowing up.'
'On their own, or with inspiration?'
'On its own. My fault, really; I was taking some of the new costume transmitters you designed to Cin, wanted her approval to outfit everyone with them, and the tech crapped out once I made it into Oneironaut's bubble. Catastrophic.'
While you hadn't experienced something quite like that, you had to agree. It had been lingering around for less than forty-eight hours, and you were already annoyed at the power warping bubble. You wondered whether it was something that Oneironaut plotted out in advance, even if you'd already been told that wasn't likely; it seemed like targeting Flashdrive's tinker power would be a great way to try and hamstring some of their more co-ordinated efforts. Everyone knew that tinkers were something of a force multiplier.
On the other hand, if that was true then it seemed that they would have to have remained ignorant of your own tinkering, which seemed unlikely. While it wasn't something that you crowed about to all and sundry, it was hardly a massive secret; Penumbra was a tinker, too, amongst other things, and people knew that. Information gaps like that seemed unlikely for a unit as well established as Octave.
Considering it, you finished up inserting the last few chips – so small that you had to handle them all with the finest of tweezers, measuring under a millimetre each, and closing up the panel on your helmet. Swapping out your generic facemask for the comfort of the cool, smooth ceramic, you felt back at home.
'At least you weren't hurt.'
'Yeah, thank heavens for small mercies and all that. Still, pain in the rear end. You up to much over there?'
'Not as much as I'd like, but I have other obligations. Got the mastery stuff worked out though – shouldn't be able to get just blind-sided by someone talking at me, at least.'
'That's something. Is it something you think you could pass on?'
'I think so,' you said. 'Its mostly based on existing voice recognition stuff I got from acquisitions, so it shouldn't be that hard to replicate.'
'Nice. Fire me over the plans when you get some time and I'll waste an hour looking at it before admitting defeat and getting you to explain it to me directly.'
Firing back a thumbs up, you made a mental note to get to it at some point. It wasn't an unusual sort of request, but tinkering plans never made much sense to anyone but the person who made them. Even other tinkers, when maintaining and adapting the work of others, did so through their own internal lenses and filters which meant that it was always an interpretation rather than a strict replication.
Unless you were Dragon, at least.
It had been a little while since you had thought of her, given how much was going on, and you wondered how Armsmaster's investigation into her circumstances were going. It hadn't yet been a week, and he'd been under the impression that things were best to be left in his own hands, but you found it hard to resist at least throwing a question to Percentile to check in on the situation. For all you knew, it was possible that something had gone horrendously wrong and you simply hadn't heard about it yet due to operational security or something similar.
Chances that Dragon is or has been in imminent danger due to Armsmaster's investigation thus far?
0%
You would take that. Any number above zero was a bad sign, but since you were asking about something that had happened in the past Percentile was able to give a more definite answer. Either someone had found out about Armsmaster's investigation and things had gone wrong, or they hadn't. All of that was separate to whether she was in general danger, a number which you presumed hadn't gotten better since the last time you asked, but at least they hadn't gotten any worse either.
With your immediate concerns over Dragon assuaged, you started turning over the next week in your head. There was a lot coming up. Training and Tritium on Monday, then you were still planning to investigate Miss Freedom's apparent location with Rachel and Alec on Tuesday. That alone was a lot, and then Wednesday was a trip to the Botanical Gardens with Phyton, who was probably the member of the Atlanta Wards you knew the least.
Hopefully it would be the beginning of a positive relationship. The girl seemed nice enough, even if she wasn't around quite as much as everyone else, and you trusted Melder's judgement. If he spent as much time talking to her as he did, and it wasn't to reprimand her, there had to be something nice about her.
For Sunday afternoon, though, things were much more close to home. Making sure that you were outside of the strange, oily feel of Oneironaut's bubble, you checked around to make sure that you weren't about to scare some poor PRT officer out of their skin, and then reached into World Line; a step later, and you were in your bedroom and throwing your helmet on to your bed.
Rachel was probably already going to be at the park when you got there, and luckily Piedmont was famous enough that Vicky and Amy could get there without needing personal guidance, but it was also large enough that you weren't guaranteed to arrive at the same spot. Your plan was to get there, and walk around using Para-Sense to try and scout when your friends got within your general area and then home in on them from that. Presumably, given the presence of dogs, Rachel would have aimed for somewhere a little more open and so that was where you were going to start.
Getting changed, having a shower, and having lunch came first though. You didn't quite smell, but the smoke from Flashdrive's explosion had a way of lingering in the air.
Arriving at the park felt like an alien experience. You'd been in Atlanta for a while and you'd taken the opportunity to look around the city, but it was mostly for functional purposes. The idea of taking an afternoon off and just heading out to a green space was bizarre, and you found yourself liking it. The idea of the vacation incoming was looking better and better each day.
While the sun was hot, summer in full flow and the clouds scurrying out of the path of such an intense warmth, the trees provided enough coverage to prevent it from burning and you had remembered to pack a small bag with water and a few snacks. You didn't know exactly how long you were likely to be out, so it was nice to be prepared.
When you arrived, Rachel was already there and you made your way towards her immediately. Para-Sense had been your plan, but it turned out that you didn't even need it.
'That's a lot of dogs.' You said, taking a look around her. A touch difficult to count, given how furious their motion was and the Gordian knot that the leashes were becoming, you thought there were six of them. It seemed a bit much for one person, though you trusted Rachel implicitly on the subject. 'Are they all good with people?'
'They won't bite at random, but respect their space. Let them come up to you first, if you want.'
Nothing about her seemed confrontational, but the assuredness with which she spoke was almost intimidating. Not for the first time, you remembered how serious Rachel took her dogs.
Seeing her out of costume was a little unusual too. Most of her clothing stuck to a similar theme as her professional wear, but without the assault vest and the mask you got a look at her face in full sunlight for the first time in a while. There was a scratch across the bridge of her nose that looked sore, but it had started scabbing up, and the corner of her mouth looked as though she'd been chewing her lip. Otherwise, she looked well, even if her squinting against the sun gave her gaze a certain sharpness.
It didn't take long for the dogs to gather, either. You didn't really consider yourself an expert on the animals, and some of them looked like they didn't belong to any particular breed – at least, not any that you would recognise – but you thought that one of them looked a little like a golden retriever and another pretty similar to the image you had in your head of a doberman. Either way, they all seemed to be happy, tails wagging.
Despite that, it was evident to you that they were shelter dogs. None of them were in awful condition, but you could tell where some of them were probably more recently abandoned or handed in; a little skinnier than you thought that they should be, or with a few nasty rashes or areas of recently shaven fur.
'Here,' Rachel said, 'you take three. We can walk around for a while.'
Before you could respond, you'd been handed a couple of leashes and had almost instinctively divided them between your hands before Rachel started walking and you went along behind her. The dogs weren't pulling, but there was certainly a momentum to them and you didn't see a reason not to let them lead the way. After all, they were only following Rachel.
'Any idea when they're gonna show up?' Rachel asked.
'Not yet. They're supposed to be here pretty much any minute though, so I guess just keep an eye out.'
'You know if either of them have been around dogs before?'
'No. I don't think they own one, at least.'
'Makes sense. Watch them for me when they arrive. Easier if we split the dogs into groups so they all get exercise, but I don't trust them not to fuck up.'
'Why? They seemed happy enough to come along.'
Rachel didn't seem aggressive, necessarily, but she also seemed pretty much resigned to the idea that the sisters were going to make things more difficult than they perhaps needed to be, and you couldn't identify the reason for it. You didn't own a dog either and Rachel's instructions when you went with her to the shelter were enough to make sure you didn't do anything stupid.
'Most people think they know how to take care of dogs. They don't. Nothing to do with them, just a big problem with most people, no reason to think they're different.'
'Give them a chance, at least. I didn't know what to do until you told me either.'
'You're different. You listen.'
Not really sure how to respond to that, you allowed things to fall into a companionable silence as you walked the dogs. Occasionally they would tug a little on the leash, but your grip was enough that there was no dog on Earth that could pull you around and a gentle reminder of what they should be doing managed to pull them back into line. New as they might have been, Rachel's training had apparently begun to stick already.
Amy and Vicky arrived maybe fifteen or twenty minutes later; flying down, you should have realised that with no secret identities to protect it was far easier for the two of them to just locate you from the sky. There wasn't likely to be another group of dogs this size in the park, at least not with two humans alongside as well.
'Hey!'
'Hey,' you said, watching carefully as they touched down. The dogs were excited but somewhat nervous, and you couldn't blame them; people flying must have been a pretty new phenomena to them. You wondered how animals all over the planet reacted to parahumans when they first started cropping up. None of them had evolved for this. 'Find us okay?'
'Oh yeah, once you get past the fact that you're melting to death the sun was pretty helpful.'
Vicky's smile told you that she didn't really mind the heat, and the line of golden matter bisecting her face – the only evidence that she had ever clashed with Leviathan – was almost glowing in the afternoon brightness. It was like the sun itself had melted and filled the space.
'Speak for yourself,' Amy said, brushing herself down and straightening her clothes. She clearly didn't appreciate the flight as much as Vicky did. 'Remind me to put on more sunscreen the next time we leave the hotel.'
They couldn't have flown for more than about twenty minutes at the absolute maximum, the sky not being nearly so crowded as the roads and Vicky's top speed pretty pacey, but you understood Amy immediately; she was already turning a slight red, and you imagined that by the time she went back to Brockton Bay she was either going to be a lobster or sport the kind of tan that people normally get out of a bottle.
Upon Rachel's approval, you each delegated a dog to a sister and the walk continued. Chatter went back and forth pretty nicely, and while other people were around, you were able to ignore their stares pretty easily given the combination of the people around you, the buffer that the dogs provided from anyone else, and the size of the park; maybe that was something to tell Dr Guattari when you informed her about how awkward you were feeling with crowds. Not the space; just the people.
Eventually, though, the walk came to an end and Rachel led the group into a slightly more densely wooded area. Still within plain view of the rest of the park, the woods never dense enough to truly turn anywhere isolated, it was nice to get a more comprehensive shade over you and Rachel started unpacking a plethora of thick, rubber balls and long sticks that looked almost like ladles. Fitting a ball into the cup of the ladle, she handed one over to you.
'Start throwing. Don't aim at people, the dogs will chase so don't worry about getting it back. Try not to hit anything or we'll get people bitching and the dogs don't like that.'
You nodded and took a hold of the handle before turning, seeing Rachel handing the same thing out to the sisters and then turning back to unclip a few of the leashes. Others – potentially those she didn't trust off their leashes for now – were kept behind, and she seemed to have some thick ropes decorated with various kitsch plush elements to keep them entertained.
Two of the dogs sat beside you, unclipped and with their tails beating hard on the ground. You couldn't really resist the smile from starting on your face, and you turned, flicking your wrist and trying to get good height on the ball without launching it anywhere near full force.
'Good job Taylor,' Vicky said. 'Not sure we're ever going to see that ball again.'
'Check the news tomorrow,' Amy added. 'See if anyone reported a meteorite.'
It was difficult to stop the blush, but if anyone asked about it you were just going to blame the sun. Amy wasn't the only one allowed to go red instead of tanning.
Actions Remaining:
- Tinkering tasks: medical usage (1), anti-Endbringer weaponry (5), cybernetics (6), nanobot containment devices (9)
- Meet with the Triumvirate for Overcharging, and the Thinker team on Friday 10th June
- Meet with Tritium on the 6th with Vicky and Amy, and see what happens
- Tell Doctor Guattari about growing discomfort with crowds
- Team training, including Qualia test with Rachel - Monday 6th
- Scout out the location of Miss Freedom with Rachel and Alec - Tuesday 7th
- Botanical Gardens with Phyton and Aquarium (Wednesday 8th) as part of Atlanta Sisters Tour
Some tinkering done - heat seeking mastery negation active! - and a little bit of information on how the Oneironaut bubble is impacting others. We check in on Dragon to make sure that Armsmaster's investigation hasn't put her in trouble, and the answer to that is not yet, at least! Trip to the dog park with friends ends with Taylor accidentally launching a new satellite into orbit. The curses of being a brute, eh?
Next few chapters are going to involve the Tritium meeting, power testing with Rachel, and then the Miss Freedom scout-out. If you have any ideas on actions that are relevant to any of those plot points, now is the time to vote!
Until then, vote away for whatever's on your mind!
[X][Action]Write-in
Taylor's Questions
Taylor now has a system of asking daily questions whenever she has some left over from the day.
You may ask any questions using the format:
[X][Question]Write-in