Chapter Text
Watching the sunrise was something Taylor had grown fond of doing, since the Locker.
It was the one time of day where, no matter what else was going on, Taylor would climb up onto the roof, let her swarm fall into the background, and just relax. Their house was on a hill, so she could watch dawn light up the bay and bathe the bay in morning light. It served as a good marker between the days, ever since she stopped sleeping as much. She could let everything fall away, stop thinking, and just enjoy the time to herself.
Once it had passed from the beautiful dawn to merely morning, Taylor climbed down and set out for her morning run. It was a good time to get her thoughts together after her mental reset, and to go over her plans for the day. It was all part of the routine her therapist had encouraged her to develop, and sticking to it was slowly getting easier and easier, other than when she had to sleep at times that broke it.
(She’d been alone, one cold, dark night in February, when she’d come across a PHO thread from a European hero talking about their experience with therapy. She had mostly been looking for someone to talk to in the middle of the night, but after a few false starts she was very glad she’d started. Dr. Noelle was nice.)
The plan, according to Armsmaster, was to go into headquarters for a meeting with the Image department, and then learn Console duty. That felt incomplete, like she was forgetting something, or was skipping a step, but she hadn’t remembered anything important by the time she’d gotten back to the house and begun cooking breakfast for herself and her father.
Oh well, it couldn’t have been that important.
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“Are you sure about this boss? These guys aren’t even Asian!”
“Eh, we need what we can get, and they’re better than the druggies under the bridge. Besides, it’s not like they can refuse. Right, Power Up?”
The naked teen couldn’t really answer, as he was too busy trying not to die as they made him dance with grenades
“Besides, all the best games come outta the homeland, even over in Aleph!”
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“Ah, you must be Skitter! I’m with the Youth Guard, I’ll be sitting in during your meeting with Image.”
Ah, that was what she’d been forgetting.
As Taylor shook the middle aged woman’s hand, a tarantula crawled out of her hair and rested on the crest of her mask, which made the representative pale a little.
“I don’t expect to need much help. There isn’t exactly much to sexualize here, given I’m more of a model figure than an hourglass.” Taylor said. She still didn’t exactly believe that, but calling herself a stick bug with a wig on would have been self degradation, and that was just making Emma and Sophia’s jobs easier.
(It helped that she’d hit a growth spurt since the Locker. Now, she wouldn’t have fit inside without turning her into a pretzel. It also helped her believe that she was growing into a model’s build.)
The representative laughed. “Oh, that won’t stop some branches. I once saw a branch over in California try to get a lady about your age in some fancy chestplate twice her cup size that bounced like you wouldn’t believe. Said it was for ‘shock absorption’ and ‘bulletproof properties’ or something like that.”
Taylor nodded. The Youth Guard page on the PHO Wiki could be charitably described as a battleground on the best of days, but she at least appreciated that they tried, even if they sometimes went too far. “That’s the Volleyball story, right?”
She nodded. “You keep up with your history, good! It’s part of why I’m here.”
“Then we shouldn’t keep the Image department waiting.” Taylor said, and the representative nodded again while holding the door to the department open for her.
The main room looked like some kind of bomb had gone off. The handful of cubicles were practically buried in paper, the carpet was practically tie dyed, and most of the room was occupied by armored mannequins, sketchboards, and the scent of pencil shavings. Taylor had seen this place before via her swarm, so she knew what to expect, but it had at least been clean when she came to do her initial round of paperwork.
This also meant she knew where the local department head was, although it was easy to mistake him for one of the many mannequins with various uniforms on them. He was wearing what could best be described as a military uniform for an artist, with a bandolier of paints, chalks, dyes, and other colors, along with countless pockets, and a smock that had an entirely different psychedelic pattern from when she’d seen him yesterday. If Taylor didn’t know better, she’d have assumed he was a parahuman, probably a Tinker with an art speciality.
“Welcome to the Image department, Skitter. Alice.” He nodded to the representative.
“Richard.” Alice said shortly.
Even Taylor’s atrophied social skills could tell something had gone wrong between these two, but she honestly didn’t care. “Armsmaster didn’t tell me what we were supposed to talk about.”
Richard nodded and gestured to one of the sketch boards, which had a few costume designs on it. “Your homemade costume is far better than some, but there is still a lot of room for improvement. While that will take up the majority of our time here, there are other matters to discuss first. Do I need to tell you not to make a habit out of drowning people in insect swarms large enough to give any entomophobe a heart attack?”
Taylor shook her head. “No. Not unless I was about to die or fighting someone as dangerous as Lung. I plan to be more subtle in the future.”
“Good. As it is, every exterminator company in the state is booked out until next year. Thankfully, we have been careful over the years to cultivate our branch’s image towards doing what is necessary to survive against monsters, so I will not be forced to make a ridiculous ‘suggestion’ that you try to use only the ‘good’ kind of bugs. Compared to Hellhound’s recruitment, this should be painless.” Richard said.
“I’m not sure how effective butterflies would be against anyone.” Taylor said dryly.
“Precisely.” Richard handed her a folder of documents. “We have also received several emails from beekeepers, crabbers, and insect farmers regarding advertisements or branded products. While it is partially up to you which you accept, I would recommend the honey based companies first. Of the working insects, bees have by far the most positive reputation.”
(Bug farming had become… not popular, but somewhat accepted in the face of the Endbringer threats to traditional farming. The Farmer, the biotinker who controlled much of north western Mexico, had developed a mouse sized cross of a mealworm, a cricket, and a cicada. Snackworms, as they were called, could survive almost anywhere, fed on sewage, waste, and pretty much anything else that was disgusting or abundant. They were decently tasty and nutritious if prepared correctly, which had earned them a place as the newest staple food of the poor and destitute.)
(Taylor liked them. They were both cute and delicious.)
“This is because of all the news coverage of my debut, right? I assume Clockblocker didn’t immediately get an offer from Rolex.” Taylor said.
“No, no he did not. Speaking of your debut, I will be ordering you to avoid comments on race, at least in a negative light. Triumph had to disperse a would be lynch mob last night before it could harm anyone, and we both know who was behind that. Brockton Bay has a nazi problem.” Richard said.
“I didn’t mean to give them a win.” Taylor said.
“That doesn’t matter. All we can do is try to mitigate the damage. Thankfully, your costume hides your own race, or else the E88 would be partying even more with the confirmation that a white girl defeated Lung on her own. I am sure you’ve seen the PHO threads.”
Taylor winced. “I have. It isn’t pretty.”
“Then you understand.” Richard said as he pulled out a second copy of the folder he’d handed her. “Before we get to your costume, I will be coaching you on dealing with this backlash, the corporate attention, and being one of the latest media focal points. Normally all of this could have waited until before the announcement press conference, but we do not have that luxury.”
One of the side effects of being able to push her emotions onto her swarm was that Taylor was largely immune to mind numbing, because boredom counted as something she could shunt away. This was useful, because she was stuck in the Image department until lunch, and she’d arrived only about an hour after she’d had breakfast. She had to pull out her trick of copying down notes via a few bugs working together when it became clear she wasn’t going to remember most of the lecture on the first try. It didn’t help that Alice kept interrupting with questions or comments that made things more complicated.
Once they got around to her costume, things improved. It was almost painless, given most of the sketches were additions to or variations on her base costume. Alice barely had anything to say about it, because even her base costume followed the base principles the Youth Guard typically advocated for in costumes. The worst that could be said about it was that it was kinda intimidating, but that was the point. Alice made a weird face when Taylor pointed out her bug themed mask was no scarier than Hellhound’s dog mask, which made Taylor snort.
Once they were finished and Taylor had gotten her measurements taken, she had an hour or two until she was supposed to have her first run at Console duty. Plenty of time for lunch, and there was a cafe on Parian’s Block that she’d been meaning to try.
========================================================================
Strictly speaking, hacking the Winslow High servers and accessing their archives of security camera footage without a warrant was a crime, even for a government agency.
Thomas found himself struggling to care. They had a lead on the Shade, and that was worth doing some investigative work ahead of time and backfilling the paperwork. It was better to do that anyway, rather than letting them doctor the footage or claim they never had it in the first place.
He hadn’t actually done anything, Armsmaster had put in all the work, but still. Neither of them had shared any of this with anyone else, because this was both so important that they couldn’t risk a leak, and Thomas had long suspected that they had a mole or two. He would be the first to admit that the PRT’s files on their own capes could be overly detailed, and it would only take one person with a hungry wallet in a high enough position to leak those files to the public. His own private blackmail files for the Darkest Day protocol were for the most part copied directly from the PRT files, after all. He only had to add what the PRT was legally prevented from recording.
Armsmaster put it best, after they’d reviewed a small sample of the footage to confirm their suspicions regarding the potential lead. They were very lucky Skitter hadn’t turned Winslow High into the latest in the ever growing list of schools that were demolished after a student Triggered inside and had to be brought down, alive or otherwise. Frankly speaking, given what they suspected, Thomas was sorely tempted to dust off his old rifle and pay the Shade’s likely civilian identity a visit, but that would be far too quick, and not nearly as valuable a result.
It was a sunny August afternoon when Thomas called one of the best lawyers in the country, gave him the footage, and designated his targets. There was no need to tip anyone off about the discovery yet, and their newest Ward was transferring to Arcadia anyway. Maybe he’d even fund his own High School, Calvert Academy had a nice ring to it. Brockton Bay would need a replacement for Winslow, after all, once everyone involved had been arrested.
That should solidify Skitter's ties to Brockton, and lock another hero who wanted to make things better in direct competition with those who wanted to turn Brockton Bay into another Ellisburg.
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Console duty was… weird, in a way it took Taylor a while to figure out how to put her finger on.
It was on the tip of her tongue as Aegis walked her through how they did things, what all the buttons did, and when it was appropriate to call for Protectorate advice or aid via their Console. Her mask’s lenses weren’t prescription, but the Wards Console was in a side room of the Wards base, so she didn’t need to wear it. It was both interesting and a bit discomforting to learn just how many cameras the PRT had access to across the city at any given time.
Taylor laughed as she realized what it was.
“What’s the joke?” Aegis asked.
“Something was bothering me this whole time, and I just figured it out. I’m used to seeing through multiple perspectives at once, but the cameras aren’t part of my swarm, so I couldn’t subconsciously move them to fix the angle.”
“Oh, you can’t turn that off?” Carlos asked.
“Nope.” Taylor shook her head. “I’m also watching Parian put on a puppet show for some kids a couple blocks away, near the edge of my range.” It was a pretty basic thing, an adaptation of an old movie, but still.
(If she really focused, she could control a few bugs up to a mile away in any given direction at the cost of all other aspects of her Power, but that had made her bedridden for the rest of the afternoon when she’d been experimenting. Her normal radius was about 3 or 4 blocks.)
Aigis nodded before turning back to the Console.
Scribe, Clockblocker, and Uber were doing a basic loop from headquarters to the Boardwalk via the Towers and returning via Crater Lake. It was basically just a lap of the PRT’s most secure territory, which was another controversial page on the wiki, and one she was very familiar with. Depending on how you looked at it, her own house was either in Merchant or PRT territory, and given she’d seen one of Squealer’s latest joyrides right through her street, she knew which she believed.
Speaking of the vehicular Tinker, Taylor turned on the Ward’s mics. “Squealer and Mush approaching from the East, straight down Peter’s Street. Trainwreck in pursuit.”
“Got it, getting civilians outta the way.” Uber said before he led the other two Wards into a nearby alley while calling out to the crowds.
Squealer’s latest creation was some kind of open topped buggy with a wedge shaped battering ram grinder at the front, which she was using to total just about every car she rammed into the back of. Mush was doing a passable Transformers impression behind her, as he was absorbing whatever broke off of the cars into his latest Changer form. It wasn’t much per car, but after a couple blocks, he’d gotten fairly bulky. Trainwreck, Brockton Bay’s other Protectorate Tinker, was jogging behind them in his steam powered suit and firing off blasts of containment foam to slow Mush down and make him drop parts.
(The Transformers movies had been some of the last Aleph action movies she’d seen with Emma before everything started going wrong.)
“You got it, bossman!” Clockblocker said in response to something Taylor couldn’t hear as Sequealer rolled past.
The Ward dashed out of the alleyway, into the freshly cleared street, and leapt just in time to slap Mush’s thigh, which made the whole giant amalgam of flesh and steel freeze in place. He must have hit one of Mush’s tendrils.
“GET OUTTA THE WAY, KID!” Trainwreck yelled as he caught up and readied his sprayer cannons. Clockblocker dove out of the way as Trainwreck began spraying the giant with enough containment foam to immobilize a Trex. By the time he was done, Mush looked like a half finished statue. The cannons folded back into his suit as he turned to Clockblocker. “Now, what in the name of Fuck was going through your head kid!? One wrong move and you’d be chunky salsa!”
“Calvert told me to!” Clockblocker defended himself. “Sir.” He tacked on at the end.
Trainwreck put up his suit’s visor and spit on the ground. “Eh, good enough. Still, be more careful next time.” The Tinker jerked a thumb at one of the more damaged cars. “Oi, Scribe, get drawing on one of these wrecks in case Mush starts absorbing the foam or something like that. And you two, get off your asses and start getting people outta these cars, we don’t have all day!”
Taylor turned to Carlos. “What was with that? It looked like Trainwreck was going to take Clockblocker’s head off for that.”
“Director Calvert has a reputation for giving risky orders that end up working out. This was more dangerous than usual, but it worked out.”
“And you all just accept that?”
“We trust him, and he survived Ellisburg.” Carlos said, as if that explained everything, and maybe it did.
(She’d been 5 when the Ellisburg Disaster happened. She could still remember that day. Everyone in New England and Canada could.)
Taylor nodded, and went back to paying attention to the Console.
Via the cameras, she was able to see that Squealer was on a direct path back to where she’d started, one of the warehouses deep in Merchant territory. Armsmaster wasn’t pursuing her, because he was busy fighting Stormtiger and Alabaster, and Triumph, the other high mobility member of the Protectorate, was dog fighting with Purity over the bay.
With Lung gone, it seemed like everyone wanted a piece of the ABB, which meant chaos all sides, and no care for anyone caught in the middle, which was where the heroes came in. Taylor was pretty sure Mush and Squealer’s plan was to keep going until they could crash Mush into one of the main ABB’s main bases while Black Kaze and Oni Lee were occupied fighting even more Empire and PRT Capes across their territory.
Just another day in the Bay.
========================================================================
“Alright, our employer wants us to hit something bigger, after Skitter’s debut completely overshadowed us.”
“Like what? We robbed the Dragon of Kyushu last time, Tattletale, there isn’t a bigger target in Brockton to hit, not unless you’ve found wherever the Shade keeps all the money they’ve stolen over the years.”
“I mean, there’s Faultline.”
“No, I don’t want to wander around a drugged up hellscape while trying to avoid having my atoms rearranged.”
“She’s Manton limited, you idiot, At worst you’d end up naked. Then again, maybe you’d want that?”
“Shut it, Bakuda.”
“Oh, don’t worry, our employer had a better idea in mind.”
“Like who? We just went over the two main targets, we can’t take on the Protectorate, New Wave doesn't even have a base, and everyone knows the Empire’s poor as shit these days.”
“Yeah, who else is there? Fucking Accord?!”
“Yes, actually.”
Bakuda’s laughter was the soundtrack for the chase around their base that ensued as Grue and Regent tried to wring Tattletales' neck.
========================================================================
Somehow, Monday started off weird before Taylor even climbed off of the roof.
She was just watching the dawn and finishing her breakfast, because she ate breakfast on the roof during the week to save time, when a voice shattered her quiet, therapeutic routine.
“Why are you on the roof?”
As Taylor started paying attention to things beyond her mind and the basics, she looked down. Panacea, or rather, Amy was standing on her front lawn in random day clothes and a backpack.
“Why are you here? How are you here?”
“Mom asked your dad for your address. I wanted to make sure you got to Arcadia.”
“I was just going to take the same bus I took to get to headquarters.” It was just a few blocks away, after all.
“Well, John managed to get lost on his way to school at least three times, so.” Amy shrugged, as if that explained her presence. It kind of did. He lived on base, how?
“Can’t he literally give himself a better sense of direction?” Taylor said skeptically.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Amy said ruefully. “Besides, I live kinda nearby anyway, we probably take the same bus.”
Taylor blinked. “You do?”
“Yeah, in the old conservatory on 78th. Now come on, I don’t want to miss the bus.”
“Oh, sure.” It took a minute or two, but then Taylor was leaving through the front door with her backpack on.
“You never answered my question, by the way.” Amy said as they headed off for the bus stop a couple of blocks away.
It took Taylor a moment to remember the original question. “I like watching the dawn. It helps with not needing to sleep and all the noise from the bugs.”
Amy nodded. “Mom likes to do the same thing with sunset.” They walked in silence for a bit. “I thought Carlos said you can’t turn it off? How’s dawn help with that?”
“You know how you have your tongue in your mouth, but you aren’t constantly thinking about it, or the need to blink? It’s like that. I just let it all… fade away, for a bit.” Taylor said, finishing with a vague hand gesture.
“Oh, fuck you, now I’m aware of my own biology again. You are now consciously breathing and can feel your clothes chafe!”
And now they were standing in an empty bus stop as Amy was being far too dramatic for dawn.
“Congratulations, now we’re both aware of our own biology.”
“I doubt you can feel your hair growing.”
“And I doubt you have to deal with a thousand feet in puddles, among other things.”
Amy snorted, and they settled back into silence.
Taylor got the window seat when the bus finally got there.
It was weird. There was no threat there, no actual malice behind Amy’s words. While her social skills were still atrophied from over two years of isolation, she was trying to get better, and her therapist had suggested an admittedly… invasive method to do so. Spying on random conversations going on within her range was creepy, and she didn’t have context for them, but it had given her a better understanding of how people worked while also training her control over input from her swarm. It was helping, slowly.
(It had also shown just how stark the difference between the classes where Sophia, Madison, and Emma happened to be, and all the others one in Winslow. Something was definitely going on there, which had been included in her spiel to Armsmaster. Hopefully he’d be able to get the school board to listen.)
It was somewhat well known that Panacea could be a dick to repeat patients, sometimes, which had led to more PHO memes than any backlash. The best biostriker healer in the world and she swears like a sailor when she stubs her toe. Apparently she was just abrasive at the best of times, which Taylor didn’t really mind. She’d dealt with far worse, after all.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have someone to walk to school with again.
(A small part of her daydreamed about if Amy had been the abrasive, kind of a dick friend Emma had made instead of Sophia, before high school. Then things wouldn’t have gone to absolute shit.)
(She killed it as fast as she could, because that kind of thinking just made her sad.)
Taylor had been in range of Arcadia before, but she’d never really looked, because it would make the fact she chose to go to Winslow instead hurt more. Now, she didn’t have that regret, so she let herself look around. There was fancy Aleph tech in half the rooms instead of the ancient stuff Winslow had been using since World War 2. The floors were clean, none of the staff were hungover or high, and there weren’t even any dr- no wait, there was a stash of resin in the drama club room. Well, it was still better than Winslow, where there were more drug stashes than student lunches.
The bus stop was at about the midpoint between Arcadia and headquarters, so it was still in range of Arcadia. It was a simple 5 minute walk to school. This only left one nagging question.
“How did John screw that up? Sure, there was that construction, but that’s not always there, right?” Taylor said, utterly baffled.
Amy nodded solemnly. “He had the techs wondering if he was slowly losing his normal skills to get better at other stuff, it was a wild three weeks, but no, it turns out he’s just a dumbass sometimes.”
Taylor shook her head, but she didn’t miss the almost fond note in Amy’s voice.
“I’ll find my way to the faculty office, so, see you later?” Taylor said as they joined the stream of students heading inside.
“Wait, how’d you- Oh, right, that makes sense, yes, go. I’ll see you at lunch.” Amy flushed from embarrassment as she realized exactly why Taylor knew where she was going. Arcadia was cleaner than Winslow, but the only places in the world she couldn't have eyes in were surgery and intensive care wards at hospitals.
They split up from there.
Taylor introduced herself to the staff and received a spiel about what was expected of her as a Ward student. It mostly had to do with her schedule, basic procedures, and that even if her phone could bypass the faraday cage she wasn’t supposed to use it in class. It was all about what she expected, along with the long talk about not using her Power to cheat on her schoolwork. The sense of academic integrity Mom had instilled in her was bruised by the implication, but she knew why they mentioned it. Winslow didn’t have the best reputation, academically.
From there, the rest of her morning was spent taking placement tests. It was much easier to concentrate without having to deal with the latest prank or snide comment. They weren’t all that hard, because Taylor knew how horrible an educational experience she’d been getting at Winslow, so she’d been using some of her free time to study even before she’d stopped sleeping as much. It was a better use of her time than laying around feeling sorry for herself.
(Even if some days it felt like the stubborn, spiteful streak she’d gotten from her mother’s side of the family was the only reason she came back down off the roof.)
After her placement tests, she had to spend some time convincing one of the teachers grading said tests that no, her records weren’t accurate, and that yes, things were going almost as badly at Winslow as the rumors apparently described. That was exhausting, but she could deal with it if it meant not being accused of cheating. Then the lunch bell rang and she was released from the faculty offices.
While the food on offer seemed far better than the slop Winslow’s cafeteria tried to call food, Taylor had brought her own lunch. She’d done it since… don’t think about that, this was a better day.
“Over here!”
Taylor followed the voice to a table by the windows, where the Wards in their civilian identities were sitting. Well, the ones who went to Arcadia, anyway. Scribe and Hellhound were missing, but there was the addition of an extra boy, who had green eyes and dirty blond hair that led into blond facial hair, which took the form of a rather pathetic attempt at a mustache.
“Hello.” Taylor said as she sat down next to Amy.
“I’m just saying, Medhall are a bunch of Nazis.” John was busy saying.
“Just because they’re in Empire territory and make protection payments doesn’t mean the CEO’s a nazi, John.” Carlos responded, in the sort of tone that told Taylor this wasn’t the first time they’d had an argument like this.
“Is he always like this?” Taylor asked Amy.
“His ‘tutor’ had him do a handful of conspiracy simulations, and now he goes on tangents like this occasionally.” Amy said.
“They just announced a ‘charity drive’ this morning and literally priced their stuff at $14.88 or $88.14, come on, I’m right on this one.” John said.
“How is that relevant?” Taylor spoke up.
“The 14 refers to a 14 word long quote by Hitler, and the 88 refers to H, the 8th letter of the alphabet, and the Nazi salute. It’s all one giant reference to Hitler and Nazi Germany, basically.” John explained smugly.
"Why do you know that anyway?" Dennis asked.
"Tammi went on a rant." John said.
Dennis nodded as if this was normal.
“Medhall offers that big insurance plan, right?” Amy asked. “Well, plenty of nazis show up at the hospital I intern at, and plenty of them have that fancy insurance card.”
“See! See!” John pointed at Amy. “I was right!”
“I’ll admit you were right this time, John, but you really need to put more thought into these things.” Carlos said.
“What’s the most wrong he’s been?” Taylor asked.
“Was it the Aleph Bringers theory or the ‘Dragon is secretly an AI’ theory?” Amy asked.
“Aleph Bringers, definitely. He only came up with the Dragon one because he overheard a conversation his tutor had with our boss.” The boy she was reasonably certain was Preserve said before turning to her. “Oh, I’m Alan, by the way. I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself last week.”
Taylor nodded. “Aleph Bringers?”
“He thought Aleph was hiding an Endslaying weapon from us, and cited all the news reports we get of the Disasters being kind of pathetic as proof of them all being fragments of larger Endbringers.” Clockblocker said.
“And then there was that report about how Leviathan’s Nest kind of looked like the Crystal Wastes, after the internet cable got upgraded to handle images.” Alan added.
“I swear, it all made sense!” John protested.
“Wasn’t that report made up as an excuse to invade Earth Aleph?” Taylor asked.
“Yes. Watchdog put out a 15 page report on it, and half a dozen other conspiracies people were peddling.” Alan said.
“Alright alright, enough ragging on John.” Carlos said as the redhead protested in the background. “Have you liked Arcadia so far, Taylor?”
Taylor shrugged. “No one has tried to sell me drugs yet, which is an improvement.”
That set off a round of laughter, which gradually petered off as they realized she was serious.
“I know Winslow isn’t that great but really?” Dennis said.
“It is between ABB and Merchant territory. Someone’s tried to sell me drugs at least three times a month, although I doubt that’ll be happening anymore.” Taylor said. “I once found a packet of heroin stashed on top of my locker, but I threw that into a garbage truck.”
Taylor took the ensuing silence as an opportunity to start eating her lunch, a brisket sandwich.
(One of her neighbors had a smoker and used it almost constantly. He’d started giving them food after Mom died and Dad… shut down.)
Amy’s hand brushed Taylor’s as she went to grab her drink. The brown haired girl then grabbed at Taylor’s free wrist, which she resisted.
“Give that back.”
“No. Explain yourself.” Taylor said.
Amy rolled her eyes. “Your biology’s weird.”
Curious, Taylor let Amy take her arm again. While that was going on, Taylor noticed something. “Is there a reason Glory Girl’s glaring at us, now?”
“Victoria’s mom hated Amy’s dad back in the day, and apparently Brandish has a thing for generational grudges.” John said offhandedly.
“I know Amy’s adopted, but why-?”
“Dear old Dad was Marquis.” Amy answered as she put Taylor’s hand down.
“Oh.” Taylor said. The villain New Wave killed in his own home, when they were still the Brockton Bay Brigade. “I’m sorry?”
(They said it was an accident. Not everyone believed them.)
Amy waved off the concern. “It’s not a big deal. I barely remember him. She’s the one who’s being a bitch about it.”
“That’s still not okay.” Taylor said. This was eerily familiar territory.
Amy shrugged. “I just told you, I don’t care about her petty grudge. She’s too good of a person to do anything actually serious, no matter what rumors she spreads.”
Taylor nodded begrudgingly. It reminded her far too much of Sophia and Emma for her tastes. This was the exact kind of thing that had made her hesitate about joining the Wards in the first place.
(If a few bugs began laying the groundwork for an infestation of Glory Girl’s locker, that wasn’t anyone’s business.)
“So, the handholding. What was that about?” Dennis asked.
“Oh yeah, that.” Amy brightened at the change of subject before she glanced around. “Actually, how about I tell you on the way to our internships?”
Taylor nodded again. This was solidly Cape Stuff, as opposed to everything up to this point, which could feasibly have been explained away as being related to the fact that Amy was the child of a publicly outed villain.
They shifted over to school drama, the kind of stuff she’d listened to Emma talk about for hours on end, back in the day. It was meaningless teenage nonsense, and some part of Taylor had missed that. It was nice to just nod along and feel included, at least.
It wasn’t what she’d hoped for, back at summer camp in 2009, but it was better than Winslow, and that was all she could really hope for.
========================================================================
Danny wasn’t allowed in the press conference.
It was yet another anti-Shade measure, they claimed. They couldn’t have him in the same place as Skitter too easily. He understood that much. He didn’t like it, but he understood it. Operational security was important, especially with such an active threat in the mix.
So here he was, sitting on his couch, as the news finished their final story before things got going. He only had a single can of beer with him, rather than the full case he’d have wanted after spending this much time at home even just a week ago. Some part of him wanted to throw even this one can in the trash, but he had helped too many people get over their addictions to think going totally cold turkey after drinking for so long would do anything good.
His eyes caught a photo above the TV, from before the Crash. Her absence stung even worse while he was sober, without the warm buzz to distract him from the fact she should have been sitting there next to him.
Would she have been proud that Taylor was trying to help fix the Bay? Would she be mad at the fact they couldn’t be there for Taylor? Or would she feel the exact same kind of bone deep shame that he did, that their daughter Triggered, and she didn’t notice?
Danny could never know the answer, and that pain would never go away.
The news played a transitioning sequence, which drew his attention back to the TV. The press conference was being held in the PRT’s usual conference hall. It was packed, and he could see that almost half of the reporters in the hall weren’t from Brockton. It was almost funny how jumpy outsiders tended to be.
The Director and Taylor walked out onto the stage, and Danny took a moment to admire his daughter’s costume. Her initial version had looked good and intimidating, but the PRT had done some work on it. Her primary colors were still black and yellow, but now she had a silver crown that acted as a hair band, along with a silver and gold baton clearly meant to represent a scepter. Her costume had insect wings that looked like a cape on her back, mandibles on the mask, and yellow accents had been added to the hard edges of her costume, smoothing them out somewhat.
(She was growing up from his little owlet into her own queen bee.)
Director Thomas Calvert was not an imposing man, although he did like to make a statement. He’d certainly made a statement by taking over the PRT as a black man when the biggest gang in the city was made of white supremacists. He certainly had a presence to him as he took the podium and began speaking.
“Welcome, Brockton Bay, to our formal introduction of our newest Ward, Skitter, although I’m sure you’ve already heard of her.” The Director gestured to the Cape next to him. “Normally, Armsmaster would be here to give his speech, but he’s a bit busy at the moment keeping us all safe. We’ve all had a complicated few days because of how she debuted, but I’m sure we can all forgive her for being a bit eager to get started.” That got a few laughs. “I’d also like to ask that the wonderful members of the press in attendance avoid asking about Lung’s trial. All anyone can legally say is that it’s going, and that’s it. We’ve had to deal with having the man around here for a while, and I think I speak for most of us when I say we’re glad he’s facing justice, but that's about all I can say. Skitter will now say a few words.”
Taylor took the podium. “My Power isn’t the most family friendly, I know that, and it might seem more like something a villain would use to take over their own slice of the city, but I wanted to be better than that. I refused to sink to the level of those who forced me to Trigger for years before I reached my breaking point, but even then, I did not use my Power against them. I hold that same hope for my home, this city. We can be better than Nazis, drug dealers, and protection rackets. I’ll be staying in Brockton for as long as I can, even after I join the Protectorate, to try and help make that hope a reality.”
(As proud as that made him, Danny couldn’t help but feel even more disappointment in himself. She shouldn’t have needed to be better, even if he was glad she had that strength.)
“On that high note, the media may now begin asking their questions.” Director Calvert said after the applause had died down.
“Jake Yaloi, channel 9 news. What are your plans for and thoughts on the Director’s bounties?”
“I plan to invest the money I got. I’m used to a relatively simple lifestyle, and I was taught better than to spend it all immediately.” Taylor said. “I’m all for the bounties, personally, and not just because I benefited. They put more spotlight on the biggest problems in the Bay, and if that means getting some outside help for once, that’s great.”
“Kaz Smith, JHW news. Do you fear any reprisals from the ABB after you humiliated their leader?”
“No. I am confident that the PRT and Protectorate can handle any threats to my life.” Taylor said.
Danny could tell a scripted answer when he saw one.
“Jessica Red, Candid News Network. Do you feel responsible for the events of the last few days after you helped capture Lung?”
“This would have happened after anyone captured Lung. The only way to prevent it would have been to capture every other villain in the city first, but that’s just wishful thinking right now.”
“Ivan Walof, channel 7 news. Why did you choose to attack Lung, and how do you feel about his state after you were finished?”
“He was talking about shooting kids. I had no idea he was talking about the group of Capes that debuted on the same night I did, and that didn’t really matter to me at the time. He needed to go down, and that was the best way I could do so. Overwhelming force was the only answer I had to preventing him from growing further and further. I would have rather risked killing him than causing a disaster on the scale of when he first arrived in Brockton.”
“I think that’s enough questions for now. Thank you all for coming, and thank you, viewers at home, for taking such an interest in our little port. We’ll take any aid you can throw at us!” Director Calvert said before he walked off the stage, followed by Taylor.
The news feed cut away back to the presenters, who had some sort of expert on to discuss the conference, but Danny turned off the TV. He didn’t need to see more.
He glanced down at the empty can of beer in his hand and sighed. His leg might be fixed, but he had plenty of work to do before he could help Taylor with her goal.
========================================================================
“And that’s to Melissa Anders, right?”
“Yep!”
Taylor finished signing the printed out image of her tying up Lung and handed it back to the little girl.
“Thanks!” Melissa said before dashing off back to her mother, a rather short brown haired woman.
Her first patrol was going well. She had to sign a lot more autographs for children than she’d expected, to be honest, and most of them had been little girls. It wasn’t like she’d forgotten the weird stuff she’d done at that age, but still. Taylor might have sacrificed a few dolls to the ‘monsters in the Bay’, but every girl in Brockton did that.
(Emma hadn’t done that, but she’d had a shirtless photo of Jack Slash she’d found somewhere and been weird about for months before Dad had to explain everything around that. Maybe that should have been her first clue.)
Their group was Taylor, Panacea, and Hellhound, with Revel being their Protectorate escort. Image was going for some kind of girl power thing. Hellhound's three dogs were still normal, although they weren’t on leashes. Panacea had her bracers, which had an acid sprayer and grappling hook respectively. The acid was imported from another branch of the PRT and worked specifically on clothes, while the grappling hook’s use was obvious. For all her skill as a healer, Panacea still went on patrol every once in a while, and not everyone who could use healing could get to a hospital. As long as she was in costume, she needed a way to defend herself.
(There was a kind of famous video of some Empire goons trying to kidnap her, about a year ago. They were all in comas within a minute. There was a reason people feared biotinkers and biostrikers as much as they respected the ones who chose to be heroes.)
Some part of Taylor felt a bit cheated at the group size, since this was her first patrol, but she understood. Plenty of people, including the Shade, would be after her head to be the one who took out the Lung-slayer, which was a name Taylor was glad hadn’t caught on. A large group was the only real answer to that. Otherwise, the only patrols she’d be doing would be from the inside of an armored transport, which was actually not that bad an idea now that she thought about it. She felt almost exposed on this suburban sidewalk, compared to underground or inside a building.
Normally, they would be doing this on the Boardwalk, but apparently the Director wanted to do something different, especially with things in the city being more chaotic than usual.
“I’m glad you have been enjoying your first patrol, Skitter.” Revel said as Amy split off to talk to an elderly lady sitting on a bench.
“It’s different in person, Ma’am. I didn’t expect so many kids.” Taylor said.
The older heroine smiled. “You should have seen Scribe, last year. Children always like new Wards, and especially the young ones. She was so popular and had no clue how to handle the situation.”
Taylor nodded.
They were in a part of Brockton she’d never been to, the suburbs on the far side of Downtown from the Docks. There wasn’t much out here, other than a few high class mansions, suburbs, and a small mall. It eventually faded into the small section of farms and rural areas between Brockton Bay and Portsmouth. There was also the-
A wave of pure noise hit Taylor’s swarm like she’d walked into a death metal concert, sending her crashing to her knees and killing some of her bugs outright.
“Incoming wave of sound.” Taylor forced herself to say before it became impossible.
“Fuck! Pa-” Hellhound cut herself off with a groan Taylor echoed as the initial wave of high frequency noise hit them.
Revel tried to ask something, but Taylor couldn’t hear her, and then Panacea and Revel were both clutching their ears too.
The wave kept going through her entire swarm, but Taylor was already focusing her range towards the source of the noise. It was quiet, past the wave, if nothing else.
About 6 blocks away, just outside her normal range, there was a crab in an aquarium. It was dazed, asphyxiating, internally bleeding, and could barely see, but crabs had good vision. Even impaired, it could see all she needed it to.
Tattletale’s gang had just blown their way into the Ruby Dreams casino.