7.3 Fairy Tale
23rd of May, 2011
As she mentally readies herself for another bout of PRT-patented bureaucracy, Taylor can't help but think about a particular truism; the more things change, the more they stay the same. Three days ago, Leviathan finally died, yet she still has to endure the PRT weekly briefing on Monday. She doesn't know why, but she finds this fact slightly jarring.
"Alright, your level of smugness is close to reach critical mass, and will soon collapse on itself to form a black hole of self-satisfaction," the familiar voice wrenches her out of her contemplation, and she looks next to her to see Lisa looking down at Missy with her lips pursed together and her arms crossed as the trio walks through the corridors of the PRT Downtown HQ, "Now, I figured what this is about, but Arachne hasn't, and you are going to be insufferably pouty if I spoil it to her. So, get on with it already!"
"I have no idea what you're speaking about." The younger blonde answers 'innocently', the lie being made rather blatant by the fact that she's honest to god skipping on her way toward the weekly briefing.
"You really want to play it like that?" Taylor watches as one of Lisa's eyebrows draws precipitously close to her deerstalker hat, "Fine, be that way."
The older blonde turns her way in her direction, her mouth half-open already–
"I'm getting a new suit!" The Shaker makes a blatant abuse of her power to both create enough space between Lisa and Taylor to better sidestep her way in the middle.
It takes a moment for Taylor to let the words sink in and swallow back her urge to snicker at the thoroughly put upon look of the older blonde, who promptly grumbles something under her breath before looking away as the trio keeps walking through the PRT Downtown HQ's hallways.
"...I already knew that, Vista," she eventually answers after a moment, frowning a little under her mask in incomprehension, "You complained–" at length, "–about your meeting with Image on Saturday?"
"Yeah, but that was before Space Girl realized that she could swindle the real deal out of her best buddy rather than having to settle for a pale imitation," the Thinker in their midst interjects with a drawl, making Missy whirls on her to give her a put upon look on her own, something that clearly doesn't faze the older girl if the smirk she's now sporting is any indication, "Play stupid games, win–"
Taylor decides then and there that she really doesn't want to have to deal with the two's bickering.
"Is that even allowed?" She blurts out, her question burying the potential argument before it can even see the light of the day.
The two trade a look, the younger one shrugging, before turning both of their attention her way.
"You know, I'm not even sure there's a regulation about it," Lisa ponders out loud while cupping her chin with her head tilted to the side in a contemplative gesture, "I mean, on paper, Nictimène is an independent hero; one who filled out all the proper forms to cooperate with the PRT at that. It would have to pass the standard battery of tests – something that'll probably get overseen by Armsy if only because he'd been chomping at the bits to get a closer look at her tech – but as long as it isn't an inappropriate costume–"
"Jacky said the design would be mostly the same as the one she jerry-rigged for me for Leviathan." Missy helpfully chimes in.
"–Which it apparently won't," the Thinker's eyes drop down toward the younger girl for a moment, "Though you'll forgive me for being skeptical until I see it; need I remind you precisely in what kind of costume your friend was traipsing around in until recently?"
"...It was form fitting." Taylor awkwardly comments as the memory of her previous encounters with Nightflyer comes to the forefront of her mind.
Missy's cheeks reddens a little at that, and Lisa instantly pounces on it as she is wont to do.
"Form fitting?" she snickers, "Girl, you could see her everything while she was strutting around in that weird power gimpsuit!" to Lisa's defense, her judgement in the matter isn't entirely wrong; both times Taylor got a close look at it made her feel more than a little self-conscious, "Honestly, I kinda get why she never thought of signing up with the PRT because trying to make it kid-friendly would've given Image a conniption, and let's not even talk about how the Youth Guard–"
"Moving on!" the younger blonde interjects with a glare and a reddened complexion, her entire attitude screaming 'this is my friend you're speaking of', making Taylor feeling off-kilter yet again, "Image won't be an issue, I made sure of it, what about the rest?"
"Well, aside from that, the PRT will probably have to say 'no' if she asks for a monetary compensation," the Thinker gracefully goes back on tracks, only momentarily pausing to give a passing analyst a friendly greeting before carrying on with her hypothesis, "But that's a non-issue since Barnes isn't the type to put a price on friendship," Missy nods at that, and Taylor has to dump the urge to fidget into her swarm at the uncomfortable reminder of Nictimène's ties with Emma, "No, I imagine that the most contentious point will be how packed with weaponry that thing is; don't look at me like that, Missy. I know that you know that I know."
"Know what exactly?" The younger blonde challenges through a pout and with her arms crossed.
"That this is more or less the opportunity you've been waiting three entire years for and that you aren't to let it pass," Lisa theatrically rolls her eyes behind her domino mask before locking those with Missy once again, "So, how much of a crime against humanity is it going to be, hmm?"
"Not much of one, since I was the one who talked Jacky down about it," the Shaker answers with a smug air and her nose pointed skyward, "Asides from a blanket defensive improvement and what she calls a 'muscle and reflex enhancement package', she'd be putting in shock gauntlets–"
"Taser punches." The Thinker helpfully translates for Taylor's benefits.
"–and something with a little more oomph against Brutes just in case, but that's it!" Missy proudly concludes, looking pleased as punch.
"In case you were wondering, Arachne, the anti-Brute thingy would probably be forbidden by the Geneva Convention. Or used by the Canadians some time in the future, a toss up really." the younger blonde rolling her eyes at Lisa's irreverent quips, "I'd say that I wish you luck greenlighting this with the higher ups, but since I know that you fully intend to rope me into making them see things your way–"
"Pwetty pwease, with a cherry on top?" The Shaker gives the impression of giving the Thinker puppydog eyes even through her polarized visor.
"Don't do that, Space Girl. It's creepy," Lisa faux-shudders while pulling a face, and Taylor has to stifle a laugh into her fist, "Anyway, this is going to become my problem really quickly whether I want it or not."
"And you know it!" Missy happily chirps.
Above the younger blonde's head, Lisa sends a vaguely exasperated 'can you believe this?' look Taylor's way.
Thankfully, she's saved from having to come to a clever answer as the trio's journey through the bowels of the PRT HQ ends and they cross the threshold of the conference room, the place already two-thirds full by the time they sit down.
Despite how clean the HQ is, it doesn't mean it is bug free, and even as Taylor makes a conscious effort to relax while only paying a token attention to the two blondes bickering, she's free to pay attention to the rest of the building through her swarm's senses.
Somehow, the mood feels lighter, almost as if a collective weight has been lifted from everyone's shoulders. Analysts and office workers joke around the coffee machine in a break room, PRT Troopers lightly banter in the cafeteria, even the heroes still trickling down toward the conference room have a pep in their steps.
Once again, she feels off-kilter, like she's the only one getting ready for the other shoe to drop. And once she realizes that, she gets slightly mad at herself for not sharing the collectively uplifted mood. What does it say about her that she doesn't find comfort in hope?
…Or maybe it is because Taylor still hasn't come to terms with the fact that Jacqueline Barnes of all people had been the one to do the impossible and kill an Endbringer. Despite spying on her the previous week – something she isn't exactly proud of, but she had been too angry and hurt at the time to stop herself from doing so – some part of her still can't fully accept the idea that she is a morally complex person and not a cartoon villain scheming world domination.
"Holy shit!" Taylor gets once again wrenched out of her thoughts by Lisa's voice, and her head snaps in the blonde's direction at hearing her audibly swearing.
"What is it?" She hears herself clip a little distantly as she parses through her swarm's senses–
"The Director!" The Thinker whisper-hisses right in her ear, her hot breath bringing Taylor back fully in the know and in the room both, "Look!"
Mentally pulling back from her power and its slight pressure, she gives the stern woman a good look as she stands behind her pupitre, her body turned three-quarter to the side as she has a quiet talk with Armsmaster, the Protectorate leader standing rigidly in his power armor next to her.
She doesn't immediately see what her friend did, something which she promptly voices aloud.
"What about the Director?" She asks.
"Her gait was smoother," Missy interjects in a low tone, and Taylor watches through the corner of her lenses as the younger girl gives their superior an intent look, "She didn't shamble while walking in. It's weird."
"That's because she's healed!" Lisa replies sotto-voce, and nearly vibrating on her chair, "It's not just her knee, her complexion's better too, and the white of her eyes–"
It had always struck Taylor as a little odd that the woman wasn't in a better shape despite being the one the most susceptible to being able to quietly ask Panacea for a favor.
Apparently, either she's not as good at hiding her body language as she thinks she is, or Lisa's power is just that powerful, since her friend promptly clamps down on her explanation to give her a 'you have no idea what I'm speaking about' look.
"...Alright, ever wondered why the Director is the epitome of 'harsh, but fair'?" she asks quietly while shuffling closer to Taylor on her seat in an effort to keep the conversation quiet, "That's because she was at Ellisburg when it went pear-shaped. At ground zero for Nilbog central! Prior to that, she had a rather impressive record as a PRT Trooper, but the experience left her deeply untrusting of capes, and especially in regards to biotinkers. For very, very good reasons."
Behind her mask, Taylor blinks in realization.
"Is that why she waited so long to ask Panacea for a fix?" She wonders aloud.
Lisa barks a quiet laugh at that, before shaking her head in the negative for emphasis.
"You got the name right, but we're not thinking about the same thing. No, the Director would rather hang herself with her own entrails than let Panacea touch her, but using a vial of Ser Callidus' wonder drug on the other hand…" She trails off meaningfully.
"So Jacky's the reason she's not limping anymore, got it." Missy sagely nods, and only now does Taylor register that the younger girl has been leaning toward Lisa and her to listen in on their conversation.
"Eavesdropping is poor manners, Space Girl." Lisa tuts.
"So said the psychic while seated next to the walking talking privacy violation." The Shaker snipes back.
"Alright, settle down everyone, we'll be trying to make this quick and smooth." The Director's powerful voice cuts through any repartee her friend had at the tip of her tongue, and the trio turns their attention toward the front of the conference room as one.
"First thing on the docket is–" The Director doesn't waste her time and starts her briefing as soon as she ascertains that the room is attentive with the help of a roaming glance, and Taylor finds herself tuning the first part of her speech a little as she gives the portly woman a more considering look from behind her lenses.
Now that Lisa gave her some much needed context, she can actually appreciate how the woman effortlessly commands the room, something that a martial background rather handily explains. All the same, she notices how she isn't leaning as heavily on the pupitre as usual, a sign that her knee injury must have been severe indeed.
Public Relation nonsense comes and goes as usual, though the Director adds that they should expect an increased amount of tourists in the Bay now that it has become the hometown of two out of three certified Endkillers – though Taylor doubts that Eidolon really needed the ego boost.
The second item on the docket as the Director calls it makes her lean forward in her chair though.
"–Empire has apparently elected to go look for greener pastures out of town," the Director explains in a drawl dripping with barely repressed amusement, the corner of her lips pulling up in an approximation of a, frankly speaking, rather vindictive smile as a series of photographs get projected on the screen at her back.
Behind her mask, Taylor frowns; she's not one hundred percent certain, but she's persuaded she knows the blonde man standing next to a brunette woman cradling a toddler and a rather heavy set teenage boy.
"This photo was taken at the JFK Airport in New York at 10:37 a.m. yesterday. For those having trouble to place him, Max Anders – yes, the very same – seemed to be in a particular haste to leave the country following Leviathan's death," she pauses for a moment, before adding a little airily, "I'm sure it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Nictimène calls the Bay home, or that she'd shown herself perfectly willing to enact an alpha strike against a gang leader when they're trying to stir things up, and Kaiser completely vanishing from the face of the earth right as a new metallokinetic surreptitiously appears in Argentina will only ever be a lucky coincidence."
If the sarcasm in her voice could be any thicker, Taylor reasons that she'd probably have some troubles cutting it with a knife, and if the amused chuckles echoing all around her are anything to go by, she's not alone sharing this sentiment.
Still–
"Max Anders was Kaiser all along?" She whisper-hisses to Lisa, feeling very angry all of a sudden.
"Come on, his daddy wasn't even subtle when naming his company Medhall of all things. Try to keep on with the program Arachne." The Thinker sends an infuriating winks at her, and for a moment, Taylor fumes.
Then she lets out a slow breath and redirects her attention to the briefing.
"–chose to travel accompanied. Again, I'm convinced that Miss Nessa and Jessica Biermann–" Taylor's eyes snap toward a picture of two blonde twins hovering over a downcast looking teenage girl with her hair partially hiding one of her eyes, "–and Mrs Helena Cavendish–" she internally boggles when she notices the form of address; the girl doesn't look any older than her, and she is married?! "–booking the same flight was, again, merely incidental."
"Fenja, Menja, and Othala. Oh, and the thirty-something woman looking all awkward next to Anders is Purity by the way." Lisa helpfully comments in a whisper while the Director makes another pause to give the room a roaming glance.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to officially declare Brockton Bay free of Empire capes," the Director bluntly says, earning a smattering of cheers and applause, before lifting a hand in a halting gesture, "Until someone tries to pick up the torch that is, or god forbid some gang members trigger after realizing that the übermensch left them to hang. With that in mind, we'll be mainly focusing our own effort into shutting down what's left of the Empire for good in the following weeks–"
Taylor finally settles now that the briefing reaches a familiar territory, and she discards every complicated thought.
The Bay has never been this safe from the gangs, and she's ready to do her part in putting the Empire down for good.
The more things change, the more they stay the same, she muses once more as her focus sharpens comfortingly, though a clear goal really does help.
[AN: Alright folks, ClaCla's back again for realsies this time.
And I have made a good resolution; next year, I'll officially go on hiatus during February. I have no idea why, but this month is hell on my creativity – those that follow me may have noticed that I got similarly in the dump last year around this time period – so I'm going to make it my official stance from now on that you shouldn't expect anything from me this time of the year.
I apologize for the delay, but this impromptu break did me some good, and I'm now once again locked in to finish PTIC!