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Training Day Worm edition (Jumpchain) by BatRou-Dawg
Misc » Book X-overs Rated: M, English, Drama & Humor, Words: 64k+, Favs: 42, Follows: 50, Published: Dec 8, 2022 Updated: Oct 21, 2023
4Chapter 7
Walking briskly down the hall, Panacea leveled a glare at her sister. "Seriously Vicky, you do not need to be here. I do not particularly want you here. Skitter is locked up, monitored by Dragon, and has access to no insect life that I can't neutralize. I finished Dean's new arm this morning, why don't you go get that heated embrace you've been waiting for?"
Giving her a level five pout, Glory Girl floated down the hallway, pointedly ignoring the looks that their PRT escort had been giving them. "Just because they should have her under control, doesn't mean they do! She had weeks of exposure to Tattletale and who knows how much exposure to this Vortex guy. I do not want you facing Skitter alone, no matter what they say her circumstances were!"
Ah yes, the miraculous circumstances of Skitter's "Origin Story." After Alexandria had contacted them yesterday, she had signed the appropriate forms to properly review the so-called Unmasking Protocol Report. Most commonly generated when talking about S class threats like Nilbog or the Slaughterhouse Nine, these reports were vital to dealing with national security threats. Seeing a skinny brunette in glasses on the first page had been somewhat jarring.
Taylor Hebert had not been having a lot of fun in her life. A beloved mother who died three years ago. One childhood friend who had a probable psychotic break, and then fixated on destroying their relationship to gain validation. Complete isolation for months, with attempts to get help stymed by a school administration that sided with the popular kids and an absentee father. Then, a Trigger Event that kicked off her 2011 with a bioterrorism attack, the only definition that Panacea's experience said could fit the Locker Incident.
In all honesty, it was a textbook case of one of the worst Trigger Events Amy had ever heard of, coupled with a tawdry mix of governmental corruption and incompetence.
Tough shit.
Stopping in front of the entrance to the containment area, she turned to Vicky one last time and gave her a glare. "Look, I don't know why Skitter suddenly wants to talk to me. I know I am not going to be a hostage, and she sure as hell isn't in a full body costume this time. Anything goes bad, I'll knock her out with my powers. So stay here and let me just talk to the bitch already." Before the blonde could get another head of steam going, Amy walked through the door, leaving her behind.
Taking a moment to catch her breath, Panacea nodded to her escort before continuing down the hallway. The last time she had been here had involved a certain former Gang leader and healing his special place. Another thing she got to thank Skitter for. God damned menace.
Amy's moment of self reflection ended rather abruptly when she heard a voice. The familiar tones coupled with the unfamiliar amount of emotion set her skin crawling. "Seriously, everyone focuses on how evil Frankenstein is for abandoning his creation, but not enough people remember that said "monster" had free will. Sure, he had a right to be pissed at Victor, but taking it out on innocent bystanders? That was still a shitty thing to do."
A less familiar voice countered the arguments, synthetic feminine tones bringing to mind death lists and giant mecha. It looked like Dragon was running a book club. "Nevertheless, Victor was partially responsible for the actions of his creature, if not for taking responsibility for the act of creating it, then for the promise of making a partner to share its pain. Offering hope of companionship without following through was needlessly cruel. As was assuming that such a relationship would be a threat to the world."
Waving the guard back, Amy Dallon walked towards the cell. The entrance was some sort of clear composite, showing a small room with limited space and bathroom facilities. In the center, facing towards a speaker was the elusive Taylor Hebert.
The first thought that ran through Panacea's mind was that the girl could not be a teenager. She nearly topped off six feet, at least four of which was an impressive set of legs. Her hair was a dark brown, almost black that changed in the light. A slim but muscled frame was flexing through the orange prison outfit, while her face was framed by a dark domino mask with yellow lenses. It was almost like looking at aged up Skitter fan art in real life. Nothing like Victoria, but worth a second look on the Boardwalk. At least, when it had still been there.
At that point, Panacea realized that she had caught the woman's attention. So, of course, she said the first think to come to mind. "Prison orange suits you, Skitter. Why don't you keep that style for the next twenty years?"
She might need to work on her witty quips.
Seeing Amy Dallon, a.k.a. Panacea standing in front of my cell was something of a shock. I knew that she was going to come. No matter what Alexandria thought, the girl I remembered was too full of piss and spite to avoid rubbing this incarceration in my face. She was just too human to stay away.
But time and distance had inflated Panacea's presence in my mind. The more experience I had gained, the more I understood what her power could have actually done to me. However, instead of some towering figure of rage, she was just standing there. A tired teen with bags under her eyes and too many freckles to be considered more than slightly cute. The disconnect was jarring.
Then she opened her mouth and the Universe made sense again.
Blinking at the sheer spite in the healers tone, I sighed. As annoying as it was, the girl had a legitimate beef with me. So if she decided to bitch me out a bit, I could not really complain. "Panacea, so good of you to join us. I didn't think you were going to show for at least another day."
Crossing her arms across her chest, the healer somehow made her glare deeper. All things considered, it was surprisingly effective. "You asked Alexandria to make the request. I don't know what you have learned while on your little joy ride, but when one of the Triumvirate asks for something, you don't ask why. Instead, you say "How fast do you want it?""
Frowning at the odd turn of phrase, I thought for a second before sighing. Again. I felt like that was going to be a theme in this conversation. "So, they read you into my file. A little petty, but I suppose it's only fair. But that does make this easier." Reaching up, I removed my mask, meeting the hero eye to eye for the first time. "Hello Amy Dallon, my name is Taylor Hebert. You may call me Taylor."
Noting the flared nostrils and the widening eyes, I hid a wince. Either she had managed to get even more enraged with a few sentences, or subconsciously thought I was cute. Or it could be both, given the lines of tension I was seeing. "So, is this the point where you ask to be best buddies, we go out for coffee and by the end of the month start finishing each other's sentences?" Yikes, that much acid should have melted the doors to my cell, containment foam or no!
Leaning back, I maintained eye contact until she looked away. She had a right to be pissed, but I was not inclined to take it for the rest of the night. "No, this is the point where I say something, you decide if you want to say something and we go from there." Refusing to meet my gaze again, Amy nodded, a prominent glare still on her face.
Returning her nod, I began. "As you have been made aware, I was gone for a significantly longer period of time than has passed for you. As in years, rather than a week and a half. Of the things that I did before leaving, our encounters were some of the things that I regret the most. I don't know if it matters or not, but I wanted to say I'm sorry. You did not deserve to be held hostage or to have your secrets held over your head like that."
Meeting my gaze again, Amy looked even more enraged than before. "So that's it then? You say you're sorry, fill out your paperwork and none of it even happened?" Slamming a fist against the wall, she snarled. "Is this the point that I HAVE to forgive you!? That you play the victim and get to move on?! Fuck that shit! You were a Villain! A monster! You deserved everything you got!"
Taking a deep breath, I mentally counted to five. "Panacea, I made an apology because you deserve an apology. It is up to you to decide to accept it or not. I'm not doing this to seem more mature or improve my own fate. I'm doing it because I was a stupid teenager who thought they knew what they were doing and got in over my head. In the process of that, you got hurt. The Undersiders in general, and myself and Tattletale in particular, made you feel unsafe. That was not acceptable and as such, basic human decency tells me that I should at least try."
Breathing irregularly, Panacea closed her eyes. "You are so full of shit." Turning, she faced the speaker Dragon's voice had come from. "What do I have to do to get in there and confirm this asshole is telling the truth? Give me five minutes and I'll get every bit of information you could want out of her!" Yikes, she had been building up that head of steam for a while, had she not?
A throat clearing cuts through the building tension. "Panacea, Alexandria was very clear. Without permission from her, Director Piggot and Ms. Hebert herself, you will not be allowed to use your powers to determine anything about her."
Pinning the angry girl with a look, I continued the narrative. It was the best way to get things back on track. "Furthermore, I don't believe that I can trust you to use your powers on me at this point. Which means, at the very least, that you don't have permission to heal me." Wow, I hope she has a good dentist. I heard those teeth grinding into stubs from here!
Looking at the judgment in Taylor Hebert's eyes is almost enough to make me scream. She had called me down here all high and mighty, just to give me an apology? Only to refuse to allow me to check that she was not lying out her ass like any other Villain? What gave her the right to mess with me like this?! "So, before you were sorry, but now you don't trust me. What the actual fuck!"
Unmoved from her position, Taylor frowned. "You saw me as a Villain. You still see me as a Villain. Fine, that is only fair. But, just like Armsmaster, you violated the Truce. It was in spirit if not in word but close enough." That comparison brought me up short.
Frown turning into a glare, she continued. "I was laying there, back broken and alone. Handcuffed to a bed with no one willing to let me know what was going on. Then you came in and began to heal me. You filled my ear with rumors of arrest and incarceration. Of a PRT who was going to make sure I got everything that was coming to me. You took away my ability to feel safe while recovering from injuries that resulted from an Endbringer fight. That was not okay, but what did you care? I was just an acceptable target."
That statement cut through me like a knife. Legend had already lectured me for my actions, and Carol had been irritated as well. But, even after discovering the truth of Skitter's "plan", of Armsmaster's betrayal, I had kept that little ball of self righteous anger stoked in my core. Skitter and Tattletale deserved everything they got. They hurt people and deserved to be punished for it. So, as a Hero, why not take such actions into my own hands? Why not take righteous justice against these Villains?
Taylor Hebert apparently had other ideas.
Sighing, Taylor leaned back, closing her eyes. "I've learned a lot about being a Hero and a Villain since then. As far as the Multiverse is concerned, our definitions for both are very, very weird. Most of all, I had to learn about myself and think about how my actions affected others just as much as coming to terms with how others hurt me. You are known as a hero, and probably pigeonholed into a position as the Saintly Healer. You do quite a bit of good, but it must seem like it's never enough. I met other healers on my journey and they gave me quite a bit of perspective on what you must be going through. So I'm going to give you a pass for now. But Amy, that does not make you a God, nor does it make your decisions just. It makes you a person with the responsibility to yourself and others to do your best. No more and no less."
My guttering feelings of rage ignited into a torrent of pure hatred. "Who are you to judge me? If you are a Hero now, why don't you give the PRT and the Protectorate all the information you have without playing these games? How is dragging on like this doing anyone any good?"
Watching Panacea work herself into a righteous fury, I suppressed the desire to make a silly face. It might lighten the tone but would more likely piss her off even more. "Oh, if only it was that simple. Sadly, the world is not set in a Mouse Protector cartoon. Tell me, what do you know about the Precog Dilemma?"
Blinking at the change in subject, Amy did not even get a chance to respond before Dragon interrupted. "It is a general term for dealing with the fallout from knowing too much about the future. It's has also been known as the colloquial phrase "The Prophecy Paradox." The culture of Ancient Greece was particularly fond of this idea." Yes, thank you Dragon, I guess we were getting a little loud. Way to pop the dramatic tension again.
Shaking my head, I decided to put a pin in the situation. "It's not a perfect comparison, but there are parallels. The information I have is broad and filled with conflicting data. Would providing that to the Protectorate or the PRT make things better? Or would it confuse matters, get bogged down in paperwork and rules lawyering. In addition, would I end up in the Birdcage due to people not wanting information to get out? Or a gilded cage because I'm too valuable? All decisions have consequences, Panacea. Doing what might be officially best may be worse than doing nothing at all."
With that, our debate was ended. Neither side would change their positions any more today. Hopefully, the discussion had been enough to push things forward.
Releasing a deep breath, Amy Dallon stared me down. "Just to be clear, I do not trust you and I do not forgive you. A lot of people go through horrible experiences, but they don't hold up banks to fit in, or rip out their opponent's eyes. You went through some shit Taylor, but I'm not willing to just write it off as youthful mistakes. However, I know what happened now and I will be watching what you do in the future. So be better."
Meeting her gaze head on, I smiled. "You do not have to forgive me, and I won't ask you to reconsider. I will try to be better, but only if you do so as well. You are Amy Dallon, a.k.a. fucking Panacea. If that is making you unhappy, look into better ways to cope. Don't take it out on the people you are helping, be they Hero or Villain. Just remember that, no matter what you may think, you are better than that." Narrowing her gaze, the healer nodded once and walked away without a second glance.
Waiting until I could no longer hear her footsteps, I closed my eyes. "Dragon, not to be rude, but I think I need a break. We can talk more about the poor decisions of mad scientists later. I mean, if that's okay with you." The discussion had actually been more fun than I was expecting. I would hopefully be able to have more with the woman in the future. Depending on how things went of course.
The speaker cracked as the Tinker responded. "Of course, Taylor. I understand how that was difficult for you. We can talk later if you would like. I am interested in your opinion on Dracula and it's implications on the time periods social norms." With that, I was alone with my thoughts.
Unknown to Amy and the general Protectorate, Alexandria had received a mountain of data from me already. Unknown to the Triumvirate member, the Named description of Director Piggot was one of the milder options of what I knew. With that information, the Heroine would be able to refine dozens of plans and become significantly more effective. She was lucky like that. For those who were directly involved in the substance of the definition, things could be much more difficult to handle.
Such was the case for "Amelia, the Shaper of Flesh."
With this knowledge and understanding, I had seen a baffling number of universes where Panacea and Skitter were involved with each other's destinies. I saw worlds where she became my Lisa, or I hers. I saw my life saved over and over from complications in the Locker. Worlds where we became dangerously codependent, supportive, lovers, and the best of friends. Worlds where I saved her from an abusive family and worlds where she helped me become one of the best heroes in modern history.
I had also seen the flip side to that arrangement. Where she had become cruel and spiteful. Where something pushed her past those self imposed limitations early, and the world broke. Where either Lisa or I became test beds for her experiments that were later used to warp Glory Girl into a caricature of her former self. Where she tortured me, goaded on by her beliefs that Heroes could never do wrong. Where I was remade into a pet, an object lesson, where I was sold for favors or her own personal amusement.
Given what some second opinions of my treatment at her hands post Leviathan had been, I knew which way Amy was tilting towards right now. Hopefully, some the seeds I had planted would keep her from losing everything. I owed the girl that much at least.
Still, I had to admit that things were going too smoothly. Given how the world worked, I was going to have to step up my preparations. Replacing my mask, I began to concentrate. The stage was set, it was just about time to see the would be players.
Looking down towards the city below, the lanky man smiled at the sight. "Look at that Poppet. Brockton Bay, site of the death of an Endbringer. A place where hope has come to rekindle it's flame in the bosoms of the little people. Where two members of the Triumvirate have been camping, pumping a local figure for facts and figures to allow the miracle to be repeated. Such a wonderful moment for the history books."
Returning his smile, the little blonde girl curled into his side. "Oh, I bet she knows all sort of secrets. I cannot wait to speak with Skitter! If my future big sister wasn't in town, I might just ask to name her as my candidate! She could be a Plague bringer! Or a mobile swarm! Or a new neural network for my little friends! Imagine the processing power her passenger must have to control that many bugs!"
Chuckling at his teammates enthusiasm, Jack Slash turned back, viewing the terrified family the Nine had found picnicking in the park. Now they were staring at a chuckling Crawler and stoic Siberian. "Too true Bonesaw, but remember that I get to chat with her first. I just might have to name Skitter a candidate myself, if no one else impresses me. In the meantime, we need to slip into something a little less comfortable. No reason to let Legend or Alexandria know that we might be around for a rematch."
Nodding, the wet Tinker summoned her helpers, descending upon the family of spare parts with gusto.
Standing before a crowd covered in cloaks and shadows, the figure was a startling contrast. Slim and feminine in build, the man had long, flowing blonde hair and a costume of white, silver and feathers. His mask was that of a woman's face, leaving his tattooed lips exposed. Taking a deep breath, he began to speak, words colored with a southern twang.
"Brothers and Sisters, we come today in Pilgrimage and Mourning. Our comrades the Crowley's are left in a pool of sorrow, their God dead at the hands of an unknown abomination! The one known as Vortex is a stranger to us, and none have been able to find this Devil!"
Hearing the grumbling from those before him, Valefor held up his hands for silence. "Do not despair my children, my crusaders. We shall help our fellow believers in their time of need. Leviathan chose Brockton Bay to be destroyed, and thus it shall be. But, more importantly, one of the local misguided children was taken on as a disciple of this blasphemer! We must secure the one known as Skitter before she spreads those heathen teachings! We must bring this one back to the proper way of thinking! Together we shall follow our God's will!" With that, the crowd began to cheer.
Turning to the side of the stage, Valefor smirked. "Never let it be said that the Mathers family would leave their allies in the lurch. Let's go make some plans." Vince and Sabrina Crowley nodded their agreement.
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Training Day Worm edition (Jumpchain) by BatRou-Dawg
Misc » Book X-overs Rated: M, English, Drama & Humor, Words: 64k+, Favs: 42, Follows: 50, Published: Dec 8, 2022 Updated: Oct 21, 2023
4Chapter 8
Alright, now to type in that third phrase on the second command...
Data is not accurate. False trail. Redirecting to a firewalled isolated server.*
Oh, nasty. Well then, hop one line of code to the left, three upwards, and use last week's password to trigger a reset to Mr. PRT stooge number sixty one. Utilize the favorite sports team he was discussing on that French email server last week and...
Data not accurate. Pre-set anti-Thinker defense. Will force system restart in four seconds without five step verification process. Steps are as follows.*
Nice try, but no dice you assholes! Now, let me into that yummy, yummy data.
Data storage accessable to level three clearance. Anything marked higher access is false data.*
Okay, it is a start. Now, where oh where is our old teammate...
Skitter/Taylor Hebert files listed. Files false. All files are...files are...*
No! Fuck you! You do not get to crap out on me now, oh bastard power of mine. Where are the fucking files?!
All associated files in active lockdown. All files using active defense. All files require level one or higher access. Multiple attempts to access this data have been made. Active defenses in play. Active defenses maintained directly by Dragon. Access requires location and identity verification. Cannot be faked from our location. Equipment insufficient.*
Fuck! Fuck a duck you assholes! Fine, gathering all metadata that is level three. Secondary copy via cloud on unregistered server. Distraction in active defenses allowing direct download via fifteen randomized access points. Beat that you jackasses.
Access points stable. Access stream noted. Access stream noted by Dragon. Five seconds to extract*
Fucking Tinkers! Fuck you! Enjoy checking out some very questionable content via Panama you bitch!
Gripping the cord on her laptop, Tattletale physically disconnected her machine from the hard line before plugging said cord into a digital randomizer. Between that and her special firewall tricks, their location should be safe for another ninety six hours at least. Plenty of time to review the information from the PRT backup servers before trying to make a plan. Any plan. Any possible plan.
Dropping her aching head in her hands, the blonde villainess wasted some of that valuable time wishing normal medicine worked on Thinker headaches.
Okay, okay time to look at the bright side.
Coil was gone. Outed as an infiltrator, burned as an asset, he was on his way to prison for a laundry list of federal crimes. The Protectorate was even taking steps to seal his records to save face. So, he was unlikely to cause issues anytime soon.
Lisa should know. She had made sure to remove four fail-safes and cancel a backup mercenary stand alone contract to extract his ass.
So, no boss who likes to keep pawns under control via threats and blackmail. That was good.
The downside was that they were out in the cold.
When Vortex and Taylor had gone to rescue Dinah Alcott, dealing with Coil and the Travellers in the process, they had done so while the rest of the Undersiders had been held up at the hospital. Alexandria and Legend had not been in the mood to mess around after Armsmaster's violation of the Truce, and they had needed to make some very strong arguments to get out of there. By the time Tattletale had gotten in front of her computer, it was mostly over.
Including detaching various computer servers to prevent a self destruct from going off.
Her quick actions had netted three of the emergency accounts, but that was it. A mere two million dollars spread between the four remaining Undersiders.
The really good stuff was trashed or confiscated. All of Coil's data, including significantly more financial information, blackmail, and black hat back doors into all the local systems had been lost. Their safety net was well and truly gone, and they were left vulnerable. Because, hundred to one, any information that Coil had gathered about their civilian identities was now in the hands of the Protectorate. Which meant they needed a plan fucking yesterday.
But that meant that they had to figure out what the Protectorate wanted. Which meant properly understanding their goals. Which meant they had to find out why they were fixated on Taylor and if Taylor had given them anything to cause a manhunt.
Taylor that was known would not have flipped on the Undersiders. Taylor upset, but not that petty. Current Taylor behavior models out of date. Taylor disappeared for a week and a half. Appearance at memorial was not..
Was not ..*
Yes, fuck you too power. There was no way that she was gone for just a week and a half.
Alright, so let us take a look at that metadata and see what slipped through the cracks. You may be good Dragon, but not everyone at the PRT meets your standards.
She cross referenced a dozen subfiles, examining bits and bobs of information to build a picture. What was not present, she reconstructed. What was referenced from exterior sources, she went and ripped from their cloud. Using her power as little as possible, Tattletale knew she was on to something great. Something game changing. Something that would help everything make sense!
Then she found it and had to face facts that nothing would ever be the same again.
Slamming the laptop closed, Lisa proceeded to rub her temples in vain. She had some of the information she needed. That did not mean that things were even close to okay. Of course, the downward spiral was interupted by a knock on the door. "Lisa, are you okay? I heard a banging."
Forcing herself to stand, Lisa zombie shuffled to the door. Opening it, she saw the unsmiling face of Brian. "Sorry about that, the digital defenses were a bitch and I got frustrated. Oh, is that pizza? I think I could stomach a slice." Ignoring the look that she was getting, Tattletale grabbed that horrible and wonderful slice of grease before taking a bite.
The one good thing about her power being strained? She could eat take out in relative peace.
Looking over the room of their safehouse, Lisa sighed as the chemical concoction that called itself pizza went to work. Bitch was by the door, still keeping an eye on Judas and Brutus after their near deaths in the Leviathan fight. Alec was playing a handheld game, Aisha hanging over his shoulder to watch. While Brian was...was standing in front of her door, arms crossed.
Wanted to get answers. Planned for this. Exits covered. Knows...knows...*
Yes you fucking power. Brian knows you are nearly tapped out so I can not use you against him. Fuck. Fuck.FUCK!
Brian knew that Lisa had figured out his game the second that she shot him a glare. Too fucking bad. They had abandoned nearly everything they had to escape, squatting in an emergency safehouse while trying to regroup. He was past caring about holding back. "Now that you're here, I think it's time you came clean Lisa." He was not a fan of using fear, but he was even less of a fan of getting chucked into prison by the Protectorate.
Noting Alec had shut off his game and Rachel was fully blocking the door, Brian faced Lisa. "Was Armsmaster telling the truth? Was Taylor a mole that whole time?" Which would really suck. No matter the circumstances, the girl had come through for the team on more than one occasion. Then Dinah Alcott had happened and she had drawn a line in the sand. He could not even blame her.
Facing the group, Lisa sighed, rubbing her temples. "The answer to that is... complicated."
As dodges went, it was not the blonde's best work.
Snorting, Rachel stalked forward. "No it isn't. She was either going to screw us over, or not. Stop making it more than that." There were times that Brian disliked his teammate's bluntness. This was not one of them.
Biting her lip, Lisa would not face them directly. "It's what she thought she was doing, not what she actually wanted to do. She was looking for validation, and thought that being a hero would make that happen. She didn't think we were people, just villains. But then we treated her more like a human being than anyone else in the last two years and it got complicated."
Frowning, Brian cut off Bitch's growl. "Two years? So she lied about her Trigger Event?" If so, the girl had a majorly twisted imagination.
Snorting, Lisa shook her head. "Lied? No, if anything she undersold it. I've been scouring social media and everything I can find about it. The part that she glossed over? It was the culmination of a campaign that started on her first day of school and did not stop until she decided to drop out." With that, Grue could only gape.
Narrowing his eyes, Alec leaned forward. "Well, it's nice to know the dweeb was not completely full of shit. Still, as disgusting as her Trigger was, I don't know how it really impacts our current situation."
Putting down her pizza slice, Tattletale shot them a look. "Funny you should mention that. If I'm right, her Trigger Event has EVERYTHING to do with our situation. Aisha, out of curiosity, did you hear about an older girl getting stuffed into a locker filled with nasty shit at the beginning of the year?"
Blinking, his sister snapped her fingers. "Oh yeah, Locker Girl! These three alpha bitches have this, like, obsession with her. They did all sorts of crap, and never got in trouble. Oh shit, Locker Girl was Skitter? That's fucked up!"
Leaning forward, Lisa glared. "Describe the alpha bitches please. I don't need names, just descriptions."
Frownng, the younger girl bit her lip. "Well, they are led by this white wannabe princess. You know, the type that cries to daddy if anything goes wrong. Then there is this cute tag along, the type who can't melt butter in her mouth and is always flirting with some of the teachers. Then there is this bitchy black runner. Short as shit but has a chip on her shoulder the size of an Endbringer. They act like they are all that, but most people just try to stay out of their way. No one wants to be another Locker Girl."
Sighing, then blonde started beating her head against the table, "Fucking hell, I was right. I almost wish I was wrong, but fuck it, I had to be right."
Seeing Bitch prepare to reach over and choke the Thinker, I leaned forward. "Start talking Lisa. No more games. No more deflections. Just tell us what the fuck has you so rattled. We are a team, but you hid the truth about one of our members to feel smarter than everybody. Well, now we are up shits creek without a fucking paddle. So tell us the god damned truth."
Glaring, Tattletale leaned back. "Fine you want a grand reveal? Here is your fucking grand reveal. About two years ago Miss White Princess, let's call her Bitch A was assaulted by the ABB when her daddy's car was trapped in an alley. However, they were miraculously saved by a vigilante, also known as Shadow Stalker." Hearing that name nearly made Brian jump out of his skin.
However, Tattletale was not done yet. "Bitch A clung to Shadow Stalker, who let her know her identity as Bitch B. Her savior started talking about her whole, bullshit Darwinism philosophy, and Bitch A ate it up. However, Bitch A came with a bit of baggage. A childhood friend who had been there for her over the years through thick and thin. Seeing her as dead weight, Bitch B encouraged Bitch A to cut the friend away. So the childhood friend was thrown away like a bad lottery ticket. But that wasn't the end of it. Oh no."
Falling back in shock, Brian pinched his nose. "Taylor was the childhood friend. Who Shadow Stalker cast out of the life of her new groupie."
Biting out a laugh, Lisa nodded. "Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner! Of course, removing a friendship that had lasted most of their lives was not enough. Bitch A started fixating on Taylor. Using every secret they shared to tear her down, pushing and prodding to find weakness. But Taylor was stubborn and refused to fight back. She didn't think they were worth it, even after adding on a new comrade in the form of Bitch C to help with their alibis and to calm down the administration. After all, who would they listen to? The daughter of a rich daddy or a random loner everyone spoke out against?"
Snorting, Rachel shook her head. "Bad attitude. She betrayed her pack because she was weak."
Acknowledging the description, Tattletale continued. "Things weren't helped when they press ganged Stalker into the Wards. The school would have qualified for additional funds to keep a Ward on site. They probably dialed things back a bit after Bitch B was forced in, but when the coast was clear, the Locker happened. But with a Ward and a school administration conditioned to do nothing, no one was held accountable. Now, fast forward to the hospital."
Slapping his forehead, Alec bit off a chuckle. "Skitter walks into a Heros room, only to find out that the PRT was sheltering one of the people who caused her Trigger. So fuck Legend and the rainbow he flew in on when he demanded an unmasking. Which just makes the heroes angrier and Armsmaster decided to screw her over more. This is Capes of our Lives shit, I swear."
Taking a deep breath, Brian fixed Lisa with a look. "Fine, the system screwed Taylor over. I don't disagree with that and power to her for fucking with Shadow Stalker. But that doesn't answer my question Lisa. Why the fuck didn't you warn us that she wanted to be a hero?"
Closing her eyes, the Thinker sighed. "Nearly two years of total social isolation. Jumping in to fight Lung, just because she heard he was going to attack kids. Coming up with a plan so stupid, I bet Armsmaster called her out on it. Taylor wanted proof that her life meant something. She was primed to commit suicide by cape, Brian. I knew that, once she got some exposure to us, it was impossible for her to avoid flipping. The Undersiders were the closest thing she had to positive human contact for a really long time. First, she wanted to bring is in. Then, she wanted to save us from our boss, maybe rebrand us as a hero team. She didn't trust the Protectorate to play ball, particularly after Armsmaster fucked up their first contact. Even after the hospital, there was no way she wasn't going to slink back. Probably with some plan to take Coil down from the inside, saving the city and all of us in the process."
Throwing her hands into the air, Lisa nearly screamed, "I didn't know she would get the attention of a fucking Deus Ex Machina! Vortex killed an Endbringer, which means he is automatically an S Class threat. Those asshats used it as justification to run Unmasking Protocols on Taylor as an associate! All the shit with Shadow Stalker came up, and the files require the right person in the right building to ask Dragon to personally unlock them! Short term, that means that the Undersiders are a low priority problem while they try to defuse a PR ticking time bomb. Long term? I can't get the data to answer that, and am just going in circles! I'm almost tempted to suggest we get the fuck out of town, kidnapping Aisha and rebuilding somewhere without two of the fucking Triumvirate hanging over our heads!"
Groaning, Brian went to collapse on the couch. "Fucking hell, Lisa. If you wanted a charity case, you should have let us make the decision as a team. Taylor was a nice girl who got screwed over. Fine, but we should have cleared the air before now. Not acted like toys in some stupid game. This high and mighty bullshit is not cool and now we are all fucked!"
Frownng, Rachel reached over the table, grabbing her wrist. "What are you hiding? You keep flinching. What else have you fucked up?" With that, all attention was back on the pale blonde.
Looking around for allies, Lisa slumped. "The Protectorate only have a couple of ways to play this. They could send Taylor to jail, or try and recruit her. If they chose the second option, they are going to have to adjust the narrative as to why someone heroic would attack people with deadly spiders on a regular basis. They are going to need a scapegoat, while staying as far as fucking possible away from her Trigger Event and Armsmaster's fuck ups. Now, who do think they are likely to target for that?"
Thinking about it, Brian decided it was time to bury his own head in his hands. "A high level Thinker known for breaking down Heroes in minutes. So they are going to probably throw you under the bus."
Looking down, Lisa collapsed, acting like her strings were cut. "It's already started. Some of their internal memos have changed the language about how to handle us. Emphasis on manipulative tactics and possible Master influence. It's not enough for live ammo to get involved yet, but it wouldn't take very much more. Most of it looks like a profile constructed from Panacea and Glory Girl. Some sort of expanded debriefing. The only good news I have so far is that I cannot find anything from Taylor herself as far as we are concerned."
The resulting shouting match shook the room before a shrill alarm broke through. Frowning, Lisa stood up, shaking off Rachel's grip while returning to her room. Unwilling to let this end, the rest followed her.
Seeing her laptop lit up with a red, flashing screen, Tattletale hurried over before typing rapidly. A series of crime scene photos, complete with notes, filled the groups vision. Not liking what he was seeing, Grue leaned forward. "Lisa, what the fuck is that?"
Wincing, the blonde continued to type. "One of my sniffer programs caught a possible issue in the data I got from the Police Department. They have a pending case they are trying to redirect to the PRT. A series of murders that look like they would need powers to pull off. Give me a second..."
Mumbling under her breath, Lisa began to rapidly flip through case after case, bathing the walls with digital blood. Reading over her shoulder, Brian winced. Whoever had been killing these people had also taken skin and a few internal organs. But they had done so quickly, in place, while keeping the victims alive. One or two of those facts would still make it a normal crime until proven otherwise. All at once? That pointed to powers in a big way. He ended up turning away after the third case.
Hearing Tattletale gasp in pain redirected his attention very, very quickly however. "Oh mother fucking HELL..." Turning to the team Thinker, who had turned a light shade of green, Grue knew he was not going to like what she had discovered.
The music was pounding, the bodies were moving and the shit was flowing.
It was a grand old fucking day to be a Merchant!
When that hob knocker Leviathan had shown up, the Bay had gotten the shit fucking kicked out of it. But then some weird ass jack off had done that thing all the big names had spent years fucking up. He had torn the piss licking lizard apart like used tissue, leaving the docks wrecked, but the city in one piece. All he wanted in return was that bug humping bitch Skitter. What a cum guzzling moron!
Now the Merchants ran the fucking docks while all the shit sniffing taint lickers tried to use the money coming in to polish the streets downtown. Fucking brain dead, ball buggering dip shits. They thought that the heroes would fix things, especially with the dick biting knuckle draggers Alexandria and Legend in town. Well, old Skidmark had something special for those diamond dildo buggering bastards!
He had a private little party the day after that spooge soaked sack of stone had gone up. His people had played for keeps, and now he had some more fucking muscle! First Mush, then Squealer, and Trainwreck. Now he had Scrub and Whirlygig and a whole case of the good stuff! Fucking Accord thought he could move product through HIS Brockton Bay? Fuck that noise! A couple of more special parties, then he would double in strength with Powers in a Fucking Can! Those prissy ass toe sniffers in the Empire had been the big bitches in the Bay with those kinds of numbers. Now it was the Merchants turn!
Taking a bottle off the side board, he took a swig. Coke laced rum with some E for flavor. That hit the fucking spot alright. Maybe he could find that pink spotted green bottle when Whirlygig came back from scouting with Scrub to hide their special stash. Then he and Squealer and the new babe could get loaded in style for the night. They could suck the Sun's dick together then let the Moon squirt all over their holes. That was how you really partied in HIS town!
Speaking of Squealer, there she was by the couch! Oh nice, she had a bag of the yellow snort dust. That shit made a fucking sweet and sweaty chaser! Reaching around, Skidmark grabbed her best features to let her know his mood. "Hey there! How are my Tinker tits doing tonight! Share a hit with your Skiddy?"
In response, Squealer's head fell to the side, her eyes empty and her throat cut.
Jumping back, Skidmark started layering fields on his clothes. "All right you grease guzzling, dog dick choking bastards! Which one of you touched my Tinker!? I'm going to rip off your arms and stick them up your ass, take them out, and jam the bones in your stinking crotches over and over until you blow your bloody load!"
No one seemed to notice, still dancing with wild abandon. Then a voice cut through the noise.
"Well, isn't that a shame. I thought it would take you at least another fifteen minutes to notice there was a problem. Alan, be a dear and turn off that horrible racket. I can barely hear myself think."
Suddenly, the music was cut and the lights came on at full blast. Squinting from the glare, the gang leader could not help but notice that no one had stopped moving. Except, now he could see them all freaking the fuck out, just silent as a fart in church. Tongues were hanging out, all the colors of a rancid puke stain. Hidden by the doors, Mush and Trainwreck were lying on their sides, unmoving like a pair of cold fucking fish.
On an upper banister, a couple were looking down on him. The dude was skinny shit, wearing a worn suit and playing with a gleaming switchblade. Pansy ass. The bitch next to him looked Egyptian or something like that and was sneering at him like a champ. Like he had stuffed her cunt with sand or some shit like that. Well, he would show both of these assholes what it meant to be on his ass ripping list!
Leaning down, the prissy bastard frowned. "You know, a more aware man would have noticed the numerous deaths around him. But I was counting on your feeble brain being pickled enough to ignore the obvious. How short sighted of me to forget about your smaller head. Now I owe everyone a round of ice cream. I find that annoying, poison peddler."
Reaching into his jacket for the ball bearing fuck you he always kept at hand, Skidmark bared his teeth at the leaking asshole before him. "Who the fuck are you, you acid snorting, tree buggering scarecrow? I'm going to rip out your tongue and use it to clean my mucus before throwing it in dog shit!"
Blinking, the man idly flipped his knife closed. The bottle holding that fucking amazing brew Skidmark had been waving around was suddenly cut in half. "Mind your manners, poison peddler. I am commonly known as Jack Slash. My group and I have been lured to Brockton Bay for a bit of adventure. However, our little poppet Bonesaw is currently working on a project and the rest of us are at loose ends. So we decided to play a game with the so called Merchants. You were rather boring, all things considered."
Even a drugged out, sleep deprived Cape in the midst of a illegal bender knew who the fuck Jack Slash was. Which meant that Skidmark wasted no time throwing his holdout weapon right at the psychos face before turning to run. Fuck this noise, the Bay was officially too hot to handle!
He barely got five feet. The air was suddenly filled with humming, and the pieces of his bottle of fun flew into his feet, pinning him to the ground. Screaming in pain, Skidmark turned his head, just in time to see other shards of glass blocking his final attack. He also got to see the additional muscle that had shown up.
This collection of bucky balls was ambling next to the two. It kept jerking left and right, making his head hurt. Underneath them was this swelling mass of flesh and limbs, dripping acid on the floor. Kind of like that orgy last month after the bomb bitch bought it. "We had heard your Merchants were low hanging fruit, and nothing I see here changes that opinion. But when stuck inside, you have to find your own ways to entertain the kids. I thought you would be fun for a lazy afternoon, and you did manage that at least."
Scoffing, the sandy cunt crossed her arms. "It was not as grand as normal, but killing such creatures with a speck of glass each was somewhat poetic."
Smiling, Jack Slash raised his arms. "There you go! Shatterbird got to practice her detail work for a change. Mannequin had those new paralytics and stimulants he needed to test. I needed a bit of a spectacle to keep from getting bored. Then, of course, there is Crawler." Skidmark did NOT like the sound of that.
Smiling, the crazy leader of the crazy murder hobos flicked his knife out again. This time, a line of blood formed on the drug dealer's face. "You see, my friend Crawler is always seeking to improve himself. But nothing has been a challenge lately. So I thought, what if he tried a combination of the worst poisons in the world? Then, wouldn't you know it? We have a group that has been so saturated in various drugs for so long that their sweat should be a biohazard! So Crawler, I believe the phrase you are looking for is Bon Appetite!"
Eyes widening, Skidmark reached down to apply his fields to his shoes, shit stomping pain or no, while horrible noises filled the air behind him. He was just about to touch the glass when a finger went flying. "None of that now. We are trying to keep on the downlow, so to speak. Witnesses would make that... problematic."
Turning to let Jack know what he thought of that in graphic detail, the drug dealer came face to face with Crawler. It was a pile of eyes, muscle, and death fucking grinning at him. Just as it leapt forward, splattering acid everywhere, Adam Mustain had one final thought.
Fuck, this is one messed up, mother fucking trip!
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Training Day Worm edition (Jumpchain) by BatRou-Dawg
Misc » Book X-overs Rated: M, English, Drama & Humor, Words: 64k+, Favs: 42, Follows: 50, Published: Dec 8, 2022 Updated: Oct 21, 2023
4Chapter 9
Staring at the television, Danny Hebert could not have told you how long he had been sitting in the dark. He could not have told you how long the house had smelled like mildew. He could not have told you when the phone had last rung. But, most importantly, he could not have told you how long the bottle of alcohol had been sitting on the table in front of him, top still unopened.
When the warning for Leviathan had come, Danny had run to a shelter, hoping to all that was holy that his daughter was doing the same. Afterwards, he was just as shocked as anyone else to hear that the impossible had happened. An Endbringer was dead, destroyed in his home town! It was a time for recovery and celebration! Which, of course, meant that the world had to shift underneath him once again.
In the aftermath of the attack, recovery efforts were focused exclusively upon the downtown interests. The shattered Docks were left for last, allowing the damned Merchants to move in unopposed. The Dockworkers spent days trying to secure their offices and warehouses, but it was just another uphill, one sided battle. One he just could not handle anymore. So, forced to leave those he trusted fighting, Danny went home to find his daughter. Who even days later was missing from the face of the earth.
The frantic father had searched through shelter after shelter, hoping that Taylor's name, her description would spark someone's memory. He had even tried to track her new friends again with all his sweat and tears. But, despite his best efforts, nothing came of it. Instead, in one of the least bloody Endbringer fights in memory, Taylor appeared more and more likely to have been unlucky one last time.
Then she had come back. Just not to him.
The PRT was knocking on his door hours after the Endbringer Memorial went up. Every one of Taylor's evidence journals was taken, a copy of the settlement with the school was requested and provided, and a very uncomfortable interview with three different PRT agents and Miss Militia was done over the course of four hours.
They had forced him to sign endless NDA's just to get information about his own daughter! Every second they played games was another second he considered decking the assholes! But, desperate to know what they knew, Danny had crossed every T's and dotted every I's . That was when Miss Militia sent the other agents out of the room and the world truly went to Hell.
Taylor was a villain cape by the name of Skitter. She had done quite a few illegal things, but had still gone to fight against Leviathan. The Cape who ended up killing the monster had seen something in her, and offered to take the younger girl under his wing. In return, she asked for help to take down a local mastermind by the name of Coil, to rescue a kidnapped, underaged Parahuman. It was like something out of a bad TV movie.
Miss Militia also took the time to properly summarize what Taylor had probably been going through. How a Trigger was considered the worst day of someone's life, and how it could change them in any number of ways. How certain actions or events could be considered Trigger Trauma, particularly if they reminded the victim of the events that led to their Trigger in the first place. A number of their interactions after the Locker took on a new, disturbing light.
Then, the Heroine dropped the biggest bomb of them all. The Cape who had defeated Leviathan had been an interdimensional traveler. He had taken Taylor on a jaunt that had lasted years, so she was much older than he should expect. They were trying to debrief her now, but other than asking for an attorney she had made no other requests. Taylor had been gone for years subjectively, and had not even brought up sending him a message or asking to speak with him. Despite everything else in his past, Danny had never felt so small and useless.
After the PRT had left with their evidence and research notes, the broken man had gone to the family computer to find out about his daughter. Skitter was a relatively new member of a group called the Undersiders. She had made threats, showed zero empathy to her enemies, and it appeared that they had managed to challenge practically every other cape on the city.
Despite official PRT announcements, there were persistent rumors she had even taken down Lung. His teenaged daughter had taken down a horrible man who fought an Endbringer on even footing!
It was too much for Danny to handle. He could not see his daughter until the PRT cleared her, and that would take who knew how long. He could not work because the Dockworkers were struggling not to be taken down by a pile of drug addled morons. His closest friend had cut him off, and his co-workers had their own concerns. Danny had not felt this alone for years. Hence the bottle before him.
He had crawled into the bottle and hid at work in the gray time after Annette's death. It had not fixed anything, but it was better than remembering a world where he was alone. Ironically, it had been Alan Barnes who dragged his head out of his ass. Discovering he had nearly let Taylor starve on multiple occasions had taken the fight right out of him. But now his daughter had grown up without her father, and Danny did not know if she considered him worth the effort. So what was the point of everything now?
Before he could consider finding his bottle opener for the third time that hour, a knock sounded at the door. Very aware that, despite the low death toll, Brockton Bay was still recovering from an Endbringer attack, Danny made sure to grab his trusty crowbar before answering. "Who is it?"
A muffled feminine voice came though the faded wood. "Mr. Hebert? I'm sorry to bother you but we were hoping for a moment of your time and the phones appear to be out in this neighborhood." Or he had forgotten to pay the bill this month. Honestly, either was possible.
Cracking the door, he was surprised to see the masked face of Miss Militia. The rest of her costume appeared covered in generic brown and black sweats, with only a glowing green pen knife properly confirming her identity. Next to her stood a Latino man in a sharp suit, somewhat handsome despite his facial scaring. Seeing that they were not gang members looking for revenge or a shake down, Danny opened the door completely. "Sorry about that, you can never be too careful. Is this about Taylor?"
Ushering the man in, the Heroine nodded. "Yes, she's why I'm here today. To that end, I was hoping to introduce you to Mr. Calle and start discussing some of your options."
Frowning, Danny looked over the man in the suit. "What options do we have to discuss? I'm still waiting to speak with my daughter and no one has brought me as much as a note."
Smirking, Mr. Calle held out his hand for a shake. "Now that is one of the things we WILL be talking about today Mr. Hebert. Let me introduce myself properly. Quinn Calle, Attorney at Law. Specifically, I specialize in Parahuman law and I think it's high time you learned just what a mess that is." At that point, Danny could not help but feel that he should make sure all his fingers were still attached.
Seeing the rumpled man in front of her, Miss Militia felt some guilt at their aggressive introduction. This whole situation could have been handled better, but the Protectorate was still officially working to review their options. While clearly having issues with his daughter's Parahuman identity, Daniel Hebert was still a part of the equation...for the moment at least.
Taking a seat in the living room, Quinn Calle held out his hand. "First, I'm going to try and simplify the situation Mr. Hebert. I know that your position has probably exposed you to lawyers before, but I'm unsure if you have officially retained council for yourself. Therefore, to make things simpler, I'm going to ask you for a dollar."
Frowning, Mr. Hebert reached for his wallet. "May I ask why? I'm still unsure as to why you are currently in my house Mr. Calle. This seems almost like a bum rush to me."
Smiling slightly, the lawyer chuckled. "Oh, I wouldn't doubt that at all. I am being retained as possible council for your daughter by the PRT. Her legal situation is nebulous, but the fact that they reached out to me, who has a fairly good track record AGAINST both the PRT and Protectorate in court, says something significant indeed.
While Miss Hebert's legal status is in flux, as her father, and based on some of those NDA's you were "encouraged" to sign, I feel that you more than qualify as an interested party. However, any lawyer who gives you advice without taking your money is not doing so under full client privileges. So, I'll take a dollar from you to seal our discussion today, and take the cost of a one time consulting fee from the PRT. It's not perfect, but nothing about this mess is." With that, the dollar changed hands followed by a receipt.
Leaning back, Mr. Calle nodded. "Thank you. Now, to summarize, in my humble opinion this case is a cluster fuck. I'm going to explain why and outline some possible scenarios as to what may happen. In a notable abuse of some sketchy legal guidelines, Miss Militia will be here as a representative from the Protectorate in order to guide the inquiry. Thankfully, again due to those overly broad NDA's they had you sign, there is very little she can outright prevent us from talking about. Particularly while covered under attorney client privilege."
That made Miss Militia wince. She had her orders, but Mr. Calle had a definite point.
Reaching into his briefcase, the attorney pulled out a file. It was notably overflowing. "First, let's look at the charges the PRT is preparing to file. If I am reading this right, they have prepared nine hundred and seventy three examples of excessive force, assault with a Parahuman power, robbery and so on. If a normal criminal had done some of this, they could be looking at decades in federal prison."
Swallowing, Mr. Hebert reached over before flipping through the papers in question. He made it halfway before closing the document. "They are saying Taylor did all of that? That she hurt so many people?"
Nodding, Quinn Calle gave off another sardonic smirk. "Oh yes, the PRT loves to file charges. It emphasizes just how law abiding their own people tend to be versus the unruly rabble that make up the majority of other Parahuman groups. The only independent teams that endure either have a very good sponsor complete with corporate lawyers or are sleeping with a law firm or two. Otherwise, sooner or later they will be made an offer they cannot refuse. That being said, before you get too worried, there is a word you need to focus on above all others."
Gripping the folder so hard it began to warp, Mr. Hebert glared at the attorney. "What would that be, Mr. Calle?"
Retrieving the folder, the attorney began to flip through its contents. "Why, context Mr. Hebert. Context. For example, we have an example here where she used insects to attack a group of nearly twenty people before mutilating their leader. So the charge involves assault with a Parahuman power and excessive force. Sounds pretty bad, right?" Shuddering, Mr. Hebert nodded.
"Well, the majority of the subjects attacked were members of the ABB, who were in the process of receiving orders to attack "children" by Lung. Since the ABB have a history of murder, assault and sex trafficking, while their leader recovered from injuries that resulted from fighting an Endbringer off, anyone trying to make that argument would be laughed out of court. With that sort of strategy, at least seventy percent of these charges wouldn't stick, and no Prosecutor is going to be dumb enough to push them. The remainder would be trickier, but several of the tack on items could be discarded using the same logic."
Hearing that, the father sighed. "Okay, that's better than I expected. Still, just from what I was able to find online, let alone what I can manage to read in that mess, there have to be some charges that WILL stick. Even if only one in thirty of the rumors alone turn out to be true, I'm sure they have a stronger case than I'd like."
Nodding, Quinn Calle started pulling out additional pages from his file. "Yes they do, and we WILL be going over them in detail. However, we have another card to play. Hence, the sheer scope of those NDA's will be particularly useful yet again. Let's talk about the wonders of extenuating circumstances." With that, Miss Militia found herself swallowing subconsciously. Somehow, she had a feeling things were going to get worse before they got better.
Mr. Quinn Calle had been an attorney for over a decade. During that time, he had made a point to represent some of the worst Parahumans the world had ever seen. During his tenure, he dealt with any number of sketchy or off color characters. But rarely had the attorney seen a man lose his temper like Daniel Hebert once the full facts of the case where laid out for him. Judging by the escalating weaponry Miss Militia was generating, she was in the same boat.
Taking a deep breath, said angry father shot him a look. "A Ward caused my daughter to Trigger. A supervillain infiltrated the PRT to the point that he was a candidate for the Director's chair. A local HERO mismanaged Taylor's first official contact so badly that he tried to KILL her to clear his record. But because of a large number of loopholes, the PRT gets to walk and I am left with, what exactly? A lawyer that claims to have my best interests in mind while being paid by the people who helped turn my daughter into a criminal?"
Chuckling at the tone, he shot the man a smile. Daniel Hebert was finally paranoid enough to take seriously. "Actually, they put a retainer of about twenty thousand dollars in escrow that I can bill directly due to specific services rendered. It's managed by a third party that handles gray market transactions and a method that is usually only used when off the books Tinkertech is needed by the right people. The very fact that they are doing this shows two things. First, they know they fucked up and don't want it to go to trial. Second, Miss Hebert has a strong bargaining position and knows it."
That brought the raging father up short. "Strong...what does Taylor have to bargain with? Those bastards control the optics of Capes across the country! How is she going to enforce a deal when they have already fucked up that badly?" It was a fair point, and in any other circumstances would make things much more difficult. At least, given Miss Hebert's means as a teenager in a lower class household.
Thankfully, the world had given Taylor Hebert an out. "It's simple actually. Skitter has long term, in depth knowledge about the person who killed Leviathan. Without her, the PRT and the Protectorate loses their best lead on killing the other two they've had in years. Just the bits and pieces she has released has left both organizations scrambling. At this point, I'm just further damage control."
Taking a deep breath through his nose, Danny Hebert sat again. "So, what sort of "damage control" is happening to Shadow Stalker? Armsmaster? Coil? Also, why are you discussing this with me instead of together with Taylor? Why the big run around?"
Clearing her throat, Miss Militia interjected. "As per Miss Hebert's request, Shadow Stalker has been transferred to L.A. under Alexandria's direct supervision. All associated staff who helped facilitate her behavior are being reviewed as we speak. I cannot release any information on either Armsmaster or Coil since their cases are still ongoing. However, both will be punished. As to why we are talking to you without her present, that is a complicated situation."
Rolling my eyes at the dodge, the attorney turned to face the man, mindful of his growing anger. "Let me try to clear that up. Mr. Hebert, quite a bit of Parahuman law is speculative until put into practice. New powers are coming into play every day, and the circumstances behind them vary from case to case. So, one of the things that people in my profession deal with are planning for the possiblities. With Parahumans, there is no lack of material to go through. Miss Hebert, I'm afraid, managed to poke two of the big bears in the industry. Specifically, dimensional travel and time manipulation."
Holding up one hand, Mr. Calle sighed. "Dimensional travel nearly caused a War because of a single Tinkertech portal. We had to give a symbolic victory in our naming scheme, agree to recognize interdimensional copyright bans, and import a significant amount of our most popular media at great cost from Earth Aleph. Regulation on the very nature of technological travel options is extensive and draconian, because no one wants to risk a war we can't win."
Raising the other hand, he continued. "Time travel is also a very difficult subject. There have been certain cases of limited linear travel, but Gray Boy bubbles are our worst complication. Their very existence called into question the definition of age. If someone popped one of those things, and the victim sued someone to adjust their identification, there is a school of thought that their mobile experience should be the basis for their age, not the amount of time that has passed in a linear fashion."
Looking at the paling man, the attorney could see Mr. Hebert had finally put it together. "The ways that these facts apply to Taylor is that Interdimensional Travel makes it a federal crime that has very loose penalties when powers, not technology were used to facilitate travel. Also, based on what her medical tests have produced, the government has grounds to consider her an adult. So the PRT has a lot of flexibility on how to handle the case, as well as how involved you will be in the process."
Leaning back, Danny Hebert looked even more lost than before. He honestly could not blame him. "What can I do now? Can I even be involved, or will she decide I'm pointless?"
Reaching over, the attorney patted his shoulder. No matter the circumstances, Mr. Hebert was more useful focused than depressed. "That is what I am here for. Hopefully after I meet with her, we can bridge the gap and come up with a plan that people can live with. Making sure to keep you both out of federal prison while we are at it." With that, there was steel in the man's spine once more.
Excellent. It would have been a shame to cut the father out of the loop for the good of his client.
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