Wyvern - Worm AU fanfic

[Ack]

Yet another Altpower!Taylor fic. She gains yet another set of powers in the locker; it now remains to be seen what she will be doing with them.

Disclaimers:
1) This story is set in the Wormverse, which is owned by Wildbow. Thanks for letting me use it.
2) I will follow canon as closely as I can. If I find something that canon does not cover, I will make stuff up. If canon then refutes me, then I will revise. Do not bother me with fanon; corrections require citations.
3) I welcome criticism of my works, but if you tell me that something is wrong, I also expect an explanation of what is wrong, and a suggestion of how to fix it. Note that I do not promise to follow any given suggestion.

Index
Part One: Inception (below)
Part Two: How to ... Yeah, Not Going There
Part Three: Handling Matters
Part Four: Escalation
Part Five: Discussions
Part Six: Meddle Not in the Affairs of Dragons ...
Part Seven: ... For You Are Crunchy, and Go Well With Ketchup
Part Eight: All Dressed Up
Part Nine: Stinger!
Part Ten: Changing Fortunes
Part Eleven: Show and Tell
Part Twelve: Bugging the Dragon
Part Thirteen: Growing Pains
Part Fourteen: New Developments
Part Fifteen: Hidden Conflicts
Part Sixeen: That Went Places
Part Seventeen: Escalation Central
Part Eighteen: No Sale
Part Nineteen: The Dreaded Slaughterhouse Arc (1) - Our Day in Court
Part Twenty: The Dreaded Slaughterhouse Arc (2) - Farewell, Seven of Nine
Part Twenty-One: Dealing With the Wyvern in the Room
Part Twenty-Two: Getting the Measure
Part Twenty-Three: The Proposition
Part Twenty-Four: Draconic Measures
Part Twenty-Five: Operation Ellisburg

Omake: The Hand that Feeds ( SwiftRosenthal )

 

[Ack]

Wyvern

Part One: Inception


Flying.

I was flying, chill air flowing past stretched membranes. Gliding, then flapping again, arm and shoulder muscles aching.

I've never done this before. How do I know how to do it? Instinct?

I hope it gets easier.

Below, buildings slid past. A city. The buildings were old, decrepit. Somehow, I knew that I was flying east. Toward the ocean that beckoned.

Why am I flying? How am I flying? Why are my arms wings now? Why am I flying toward the ocean?

I stopped flapping for a few moments, allowed myself to glide once more. The wind drummed over the expanse of red-gold membrane that made up my wings, stretched between what had once been my fingers, my arms. Covered in fine scales, of the same colour as my wings, that winked back pinpoints of light in the weak January sunlight.

What happened?

I didn't know. I wasn't sure of much. I had only been flying for a few minutes, but where I was flying from was less certain than where I was flying to.

Even who I was was uncertain. My name …

"Who am I?" I tried to ask out loud. My jaws opened; I got the impression of a muzzle, and a croaking screech was all I heard. My tongue tasted the air, then ran over my teeth. Fangs, rather; all sharp, and far more than I'd had before …

How do I know that?

I didn't know how I knew. I knew I was human, despite my current shape. Which I knew little enough of, to be honest. Arms turned into wings, check. Red-gold scales, check. Muzzle, check.

The buildings below were beginning to get uncomfortably close. I summoned up more energy, began flapping once more. A cross-wind buffeted me; I shifted to compensate, using my tail as balance and rudder both – tail?

A glance over my shoulder showed that yes, I had a tail. Looking down and under myself showed legs, folded up beneath me, covered in … something. Something that stank.

I now knew why I was flying toward the ocean.

I needed water.

Lots of water.

The ocean was close, now. This was a good thing. My arms were tired. A joke surfaced in my mind – I just flew in from New York, and boy my arms are tired – and it didn't seem so funny any more.

In the ocean ahead, in the bay – Brockton Bay, I recalled. The city below was named for the bay – was a technological citadel, a home for the Protectorate. I blinked, eyelids moving in odd ways, as memories slotted into place. That long street is called Lord Street. And that's the Boardwalk.

"Hey!"

I jolted in midair as the voice called out beside me; so focused had I been on my own emerging thoughts that I hadn't paid attention to my surroundings. My wings lost purchase on the air and I dropped a dozen feet before I corrected that. When I was gliding properly once more, I risked a glance sideways.

There, paralleling me, was a teenage girl; white-clad, wearing a tiara over her blonde hair. She was keeping pace with me fairly easily, almost lounging in the air. Right. For her it's easy.

A name surfaced in my memory. Glory Girl.

Okay, so I can remember everyone else's names. Why not mine?

Forgetting my inability to vocalise, I tried to reply. "Uh, hi?"

What I got was, "Ooo-ah?" In a sort of screechy, velociraptor sort of accent.

She frowned, marring that perfect brow. "Can't talk English?"

Closing my muzzle – not wanting her to think that I was about to try to attack her with my startlingly large collection of needle-sharp teeth – I nodded firmly, then shook my head.

"Yes, no?" She paused. "Can't talk, can understand?"

This time, I nodded vigorously.

" … ah, right. Okay, gotta ask you to land, so I can talk to you, okay?"

Looking down, I saw that we were crossing Lord Street. I angled my wings into a dive.

"Hey!" she shouted, catching up, even as I accelerated. "I'm talking to you, here!"

How do I say, "I know, but I've got to do this?" in dinosaur? It was a conundrum.

The cool waters, twinkling in the morning sunlight, were just ahead, coming up fast. I angled into a steeper dive.

"Hey!" yelled Glory Girl, reaching for me. I twitched my wing out of the way, rolling smoothly to the side. Huh, something I can do.

She tried again; I barrel-rolled over her, and folded my wings back.

"You can't dodge forever -" she began, and then we hit the water.

<><>​

Cool silence surrounded me. I spread my wings once more, letting myself float in the dimness. The dreadful things that had been clinging to my legs drifted off, floated away, as I kicked. I rolled my eyes upward, the nictitating membranes allowing me to see clearly, even under water. Glory Girl was gathering herself, flying upward, leaving just ripples behind.

I would have to follow soon; although at home in the water, I didn't have gills. So I folded my arms against my sides once more; my legs kicked and my tail waved, and I started toward the surface.

As I moved upward, so did more memories emerge from the darkness.

<><>​

"Hey, there she is."

"Fuck, I nearly didn't see her."

"Is it just me, or is she even skinnier than before Christmas?"

"Anyone else has a Christmas dinner – Hebert has a Christmas puke."

"She just has to look in the mirror."

I ventured through the halls of Winslow, seeking my locker. I had imagined that they were letting up over November and December, but it must have been a ploy to get my guard down. They certainly weren't letting up now.

"She's so skinny that she has to run around in the shower to get wet."

"Mustn't do it all that much. I can smell her from here."

"Pee-yew! She probably took a puke just before she came in here."

Maybe it was just the power of suggestion, but I could smell something horrible now, too. My cheeks burning from the hurtful words – I never asked to be skinny – I hunched my shoulders and walked past them.

"So how old do you think she'll be before she actually grows breasts?"

"I don't think there's that many years on the calendar."

"Well, it's not like she'll need them – she's too ugly and skinny to ever get a boyfriend."

"I hear that when she goes for a walk in the park, all the perverts button up their raincoats and go home."

"She'd need a boob job just to get the tits of a twelve year old."

"A twelve year old boy."

Trying not to listen, I reached my locker. A rancid smell emanated from it. I knew, with a sinking feeling, that they had done something to it. Something horrible. But, just as it's almost impossible to look away from a train wreck, I couldn't not see what was inside the locker.

Bending over the lock, I entered the combination. Concentrating on ignoring the stink, I didn't look behind me.

That was my mistake.

<><>​

I emerged from the water feeling much cleaner; my speed put me a good body-length above the water. This gave me the chance to get my wings into operation; spraying salt water in all directions, I rose into the air.

"Hey."

This time, I was less than surprised; Glory Girl hovered there, looking a little more bedraggled than before. Her skirt hung damply, her blonde hair was flat against her head, and she had lost the tiara. She also looked less than impressed.

I gave her my best inquiring look. She pointed toward the beach. "Land. Now."

She could fly faster than me; although I was much better under water, I didn't really want to tangle with her. Angling forward, I glided toward the beach. Fortunately, this being January, it was almost totally unpopulated; I came in for a neat landing on the hard wet sand just above where the tiny waves washed back and forth, and folded my wings. Due to my odd body shape, I had to lean forward a little, large clawed feet gripping the sand and my tail balancing from behind.

Glory Girl alighted beside me and looked at me, folding her arms. Carefully, I straightened up so that we were eye to eye. "Okay," she asked, "so who are you?"

Opening my mouth, I replied with an unintelligible screech.

Closing her eyes as if in pain, she rubbed her forehead. "You can't speak any English at all?"

That was easy; I shook my head.

"Uh … okay. You're human, yeah?"

After a moment of hesitation, I nodded.

"Are you a case fifty-three?"

I paused, blinking. Then I shrugged; with wings that could cover maybe twenty feet of span, and elbows that now almost touched the ground, I could really shrug.

"Okay, let's make that a maybe. Do you remember who you are?"

<><>​

I was trapped inside the locker, unable to get out. Taunting laughter from outside, fading away. I couldn't get out. I struggled, screamed. I wasn't good enough to get out. Not strong enough.

"Too skinny and ugly ..."

There was a moment of discontinuity. Things began to change. I began to change. I had strength now; I had muscle. I pushed at the door, ripped at it with the talons on my feet. It resisted. I opened my mouth, inhaled the noxious fumes.

What came from my mouth was more in the nature of an explosion than mere flame; perhaps I was igniting something in the mess beneath me. In any case, it wrecked the locker, bending the ones on either side to hell and gone. I sprawled on the floor, struggled to my feet. My clothes were gone; I wore a new form. Red-gold scales, arms lengthened into wings, a strong tail behind. I did not fit any more into any reasonable definition of 'human'. I had to get out of here. I had to clean the stink of Winslow from me.

I ran, scuttled, down the hallway. Burst out through the doors. Spread my wings for the very first time.

The ocean was east. I flew that way.

<><>​

I reached out with a wingtip, and in the hard sand, I wrote, MY NAME IS TAYLOR HEBERT.

As she absorbed that, I added three more words.

PLEASE HELP ME.


End of Part One

Part Two

 

[OverReactionGuy]

DRAGON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hopefully this will fill the void of the other dragon!Taylor story that was discontinued.

Then the one that wont be updated in awhile.

 

[Chojomeka]

...okay now I'm interested.

 

[edale]

Gimme moar!

 

[Firedon]

Nice. I'm glad this got linked over in the omake thread. Hm. I look forward to reactions. Now the heros finally have their own dragon. Well, if they manage to help her.

 

[Ack]

Thank you edale for linking this.

 

[Dr. Mercurious]

....oh MY. Changer!Taylor. THIS oughta be GOOD.

 

[Ack]

Wyvern

Part Two: How to … Yeah, Not Going There


"Hello, Dockworker's Association, Danny Hebert speaking."

"Mr Hebert, this is Carrie Blackwell, at Winslow High School."

Danny sat up at Blackwell's sharp tone. "Principal Blackwell. How can I help you?" He blinked, worry starting to spread through him. "Has something happened to Taylor?"

"Something has certainly happened. We're not sure what."

"I … can you explain that?"

"It appears that your daughter came to school today, didn't go to class, set off a bomb in her locker, and decamped."

Of all the things that Danny had expected her to say, this was not one of them. "A … bomb?"

"Yes. Some sort of explosive or incendiary device. It destroyed her locker as well as the lockers on either side, and it damaged two more, as well as the floor and the ceiling, and it embedded the locker door in the wall opposite. It also set that part of the corridor on fire. Were you aware that she was planning this?"

"I … no. No, I don't believe that Taylor did this. She … I don't even believe that she knows how to make a bomb, much less one that would destroy her locker. Are you sure someone else didn't do this to her?"

"Well, we have police and emergency services on site; the entire school has been evacuated and a complete roll call has been taken. Taylor is not here. The conclusion is inescapable."

"I … could she have been caught … in the explosion?"

"No, the emergency services have been combing through the wreckage. There are no human remains, although there is evidence that she was also storing large amounts of toxic waste in her locker. Can you explain this?"

Danny's head was spinning. "I can't … I don't … " A blinking light distracted him. "I have a call on another line. It's probably the police. I have to take this."

Without giving her a chance to demur, he pressed the button. "Dockworker's Association, Danny Hebert speaking."

"Mr Hebert, this is Sergeant Andrews, Brockton Bay PD. Do you know of your daughter's whereabouts at this moment?"

Danny put his head in his hands. This was going to be a very long day, and he had no idea what had happened to Taylor.

<><>​

"Come on, it's just a little bit farther."

I let out a disapproving screech; flying was easy for her. She didn't have to actually claw at the air with wings that used to be her arms, for every foot of movement. For her, flying was a matter of saying fuck-you to physics and just coasting in whatever direction she wanted to go.

"Oh, don't be such a whiner." She was certainly picking up on my tones; I was pretty sure that she was joking with me in return. "Seriously, you're a dragon. How cool is that? Ames is gonna be so jealous that I brought you home."

That made me blink, with that weird double-blink that my nictitating membranes gave me. I'm a dragon? I thought I was a dinosaur. Some sort of pterodactyl velociraptor thing. How did I end up as a dragon?

Okay, well, yeah, breathing fire to blow my locker door off might have been a hint.

"Come on, pick those wings up. Don't slack off now. You're nearly there." She drifted past me again, waving her fingers at me teasingly. I flapped harder, swooped at her, snapped my jaws in her general direction without any real intent to actually get her. Laughing, she rolled out of the way. "Eek! Help! There's a dragon after me!"

The laser bolt smashed into my chest; I tumbled through the air, stunned. My thoughts were disorganised; I couldn't focus. Instinct took over, and I rolled; another blast ripped past my wingtip, the air crackling in its wake. All fatigue had left me, replaced by adrenaline; I pumped my wings, powered into a short dive, then flipped up and over in a hard loop. A sharp turn at the top of the loop, avoiding a third laser shot, then I was arrowing in on the flying form that had attacked me. Opening my jaws, I prepared to send an answering billow of flame -

"No! Don't! It's only Aunt Sarah!"

Glory Girl was in front of me, blocking my path. I angled hard, changing direction so that I didn't hit her, swallowing the flame back. Friend. Do not attack.

The other one wasn't a friend, though. Just for a moment, we both hung in midair, me beating my wings, her just hovering there. A glow built up around her hands; I gathered flame in my gullet.

And then Glory Girl was between us again. She flung out her hands in both directions, and I felt her aura, calming me. "No, don't! Don't fight! Aunt Sarah, why did you attack her?"

"I … it was attacking you, dear," the flying woman responded. "Wait … 'she'?"

"Yes, 'she'," Glory Girl stated flatly. "She's not an 'it'. She's a 'person'. She's had her trigger event and changed. I think she might be a case fifty-three. She can't talk, but she can understand English, and write it."

There was a long, somewhat embarrassed pause; I let the anger ease out of my posture. My chest still hurt, though. The woman – Glory Girl's Aunt Sarah; I seemed to recall a Lady Photon, real name Sarah Pelham – addressed me directly. "I'm sorry. I reacted badly. I apologise."

I nodded, let out an acknowledging chirp. She eyed me, then glanced at Glory Girl. "What did she say?"

"I have no idea. You think I speak dragon?" Glory Girl shrugged. "But it sounded like, 'eh, what the hell' to me."

I nodded again; for someone who didn't speak dragon, she was doing all right so far.

"All right, so where are you taking her?"

"I, uh, thought I'd bring her home."

"What? Honey, no. You shouldn't just bring home every strange cape that you meet."

"Aunt Sarah, look at her. She's a dragon. How cool is that? Also, she needs help. She asked me for help."

"So take her to the PRT or the Protectorate. Surely they're better set up for this sort of thing."

Glory Girl rolled her eyes. "They'd just poke her and prod her and make her join the Wards or something. Or put her in a Case Fifty-Three program. And she doesn't want that."

Which was true; when she had proposed the idea, I had made it quite clear that I was not in favour of it. I wasn't quite sure why; I just didn't want to go there. Besides, I didn't feel like being probed by anything, ever.

"So you're taking her home?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Okay; your mother will pitch a fit -"

"She'll get over it."

"And what about the rest of your family?"

Glory Girl shrugged. "Well, Dad might actually show some interest. And Ames will probably want to keep her forever. I mean, seriously, a dragon."

Lady Photon frowned. "And what about you? Why aren't you at school?"

"Heard about a weird thing flying over the city, went to investigate. Found Taylor here."

"Her name's Taylor? How do you know that?"

"Duh, she can write."

"Oh. Of course."

"Well, then. I'll see you two home. Then I'll call your mother. Because this is not a surprise that Carol needs to find out about by walking in through the front door."

Impulsively, Glory Girl hugged her aunt. "You're the best!"

A grimace. "Still not entirely sure that this is the right course of action, but … okay, Taylor. Let's get you there, then see what needs to be done."

I answered with a screech, then stretched my wings out; as Glory Girl led off and Lady Photon paralleled me, I flew on.

<><>​

The house was modest; a two-storey structure in suburbia. We came in for a landing outside the front door; I flapped my wings hard to kill forward momentum, then folded them close to my body. Lady Photon watched the manoeuvre with interest, then observed how I leaned forward and used my tail as a balance.

"Where were you going to have her sleep?" she asked, as Glory Girl opened the front door.

"Floor of my room," was the reply. "We can put down a mattress." Glory Girl went inside. "Dad! Visitors!"

"What if she doesn't sleep that way?" Lady Photon stepped back, allowing me first entry. "What if she hangs upside down, like a bat?"

"Then we set up something to let her do that. Hey, Dad, check it out. Look what I found."

Grinning, Glory Girl gestured to me as I entered the front door, just as her father – Flashbang – came in from the kitchen, with a sandwich in his hand. He stared; I tensed. But he didn't attack. He just … looked at me.

"Okay," he ventured at last. "I give up. What is it?"

I blinked; that was the most apathetic reaction to my new appearance that I had encountered yet.

"For one thing, she's a she, not an it," Glory Girl explained patiently. "And for another thing, she's a person. Her name's Taylor. She needs help."

I chirped in agreement, nodding my head.

"As far as I can tell, Victoria is correct," Lady Photon noted, closing the door behind us and stepping past me. "Taylor doesn't appear to be hostile, and seems to understand what we say."

"So why not hand her over to the PRT -" he began. I shook my head.

"She doesn't want to go to the PRT or to the Protectorate," Glory Girl elaborated.

"Okay, fine," he sighed. "Taylor, is it?"

I nodded, and gave a chirp of agreement.

He blinked, seeming a little taken aback. "Well, uh, make yourself comfortable, I guess. Are you hungry?"

I snuffled at the air; if my nose didn't deceive me, he had a fish paste sandwich. I nodded, just a little. Hungry, but not starving. Of course, flying across the city had a way of sharpening the appetite.

"Okay, uh, get comfortable. Sarah, could you keep our guest company? Vicky, a word in the kitchen, please?"

Flashbang – Mark Dallon; Glory Girl's real name was Victoria Dallon – left the room. I felt a little sorry for her, as I figured she was about to get a parental interrogation. I'd had one or two of those in my time.

"So, uh, can you even sit on the sofa?" asked Lady Photon.

I eyed the piece of furniture, and tried to work out how to sit properly. With my new body, I wasn't at all sure I could manage it. But by curling my tail out of the way, I managed to ease my way down, tucking my folded wings in close to my body. But I found it hard to sit upright; it was easier to let my weight fall to one side, to lie down. To curl up, with my tail wrapped in close to my body, my wings partly wrapped around me.

My head rested on the arm rest at the end of the sofa. I sighed; this was actually comfortable. The nictitating membranes flickered once or twice across my eyes, and then I closed my actual eyelids. I had been going non-stop since the locker, since the change, and it felt so good to relax.

With my eyes closed, I felt myself drifting away …

"Oh my god!"

My eyes flew open at Sarah's exclamation. Everything was blurry; why was everything blurry? I tried to flick my nictitating membranes across my eyes to clear whatever the problem was, but they didn't respond. I could make out her form, though, standing and staring at me. A white and gold form dashed in from the other room, also stopped and stared.

What's the matter? What's happened? What have I changed into now?

Using my wings, I pushed myself into an upright position. Opening my jaws, I let out an inquiring chirp. "What? What's up?"

That was my voice! I slapped my hand over my mouth.

My hand. My mouth.

I was back to normal. I looked down at myself.

Oh yeah, back to normal, all right. My body was all there. I could see it plainly, within the limits of my short-sightedness. Arms, legs, no tail, lots and lots of pink skin.

Yes, I was back to normal. I was also very naked.

Grabbing a sofa cushion, I held it over myself.

"Uh, some clothes, please?"


End of Part Two

Part Three

 

[pepperjack]

Yay! Knew she'd change back sometime.

The main difference in this story, of course, will be Taylor's starting allegiance. I don't think I've seen a "Taylor joins the New Wave" story before, and this time around there won't be the Skitter/Panacea interaction to overshadow everything else.

 

[alethiophile]

Well, this looks interesting.

It seems from context as if her dragon form isn't much bigger than a person. I wonder if it'll ever grow? Or can she change its size when she transforms?

 

[pepperjack]

I wonder if it'll ever grow?

Click to shrink...

Taylor's been wondering something similar, I imagine.

 

[Asheram]

Well, something new to put up on the vote list. Eagerly looking forward to more!

 

[Starfox5]

Ah... that'll take a bit to clear up. But with the Pelham's support, they should be able to set things straight. It's far easier to relate to a girl changing into a Dragon than to a case 53 too, I'd say. She's not a Pony, but Vista might still want a ride as well, once they met.

 

[edale]

Gimme moar!

Click to shrink...

Wyvern

Part Two: How to … Yeah, Not Going There

Click to shrink...

YEAH! He gave me moar!

Now gimme even MOAR!

Also, for once I can actually see Blackwells side of things... to an extent... That's probably the scariest part of any fic I've read....

 

[Ack]

Ah... that'll take a bit to clear up. But with the Pelham's support, they should be able to set things straight. It's far easier to relate to a girl changing into a Dragon than to a case 53 too, I'd say. She's not a Pony, but Vista might still want a ride as well, once they met.

Click to shrink...

Except that Taylor is teenage girl sized. Not Vista ride sized.

 

[tEN]

Vista might still want a ride as well, once they met.

Click to shrink...

This isn't the NSFW section.

 

[Muroshi9]

This isn't the NSFW section.

Click to shrink...

Wrong type of ride.

Except that Taylor is teenage girl sized. Not Vista ride sized.

Click to shrink...

Yeah but this is Vista she could just manipulate space and cause a small saddle placed on her back to be Vista sized on the Vista side and Taylor sized on the Taylor side much like the effects of attacks against and by Fenja and Menja two way size alteration.

 

[Chojomeka]

Except that Taylor is teenage girl sized. Not Vista ride sized.

Click to shrink...

Aww Well there goes the hope of Amy having a new ride around Brockton Bay

 

[Garahs]

Wyvern? Not dragon?



Still looks interesting though.

 

[RoninSword]

Wyvern? Not dragon?



Still looks interesting though.

Click to shrink...

A lot of sources have Wyverns and Dragons being related species, so for all practical purposes, she is a dragon.

Joining New Wave is very likely on the table here, and it will be good for Danny to be made aware of what is happening. I imagine that the PRT is going to be upset that they have lost a changer cape because of Taylor's mistrust of authority.

Taylor & Amy interaction not poisoned by Skitter is always nice as well.

 

[Garahs]

A lot of sources have Wyverns and Dragons being related species, so for all practical purposes, she is a dragon.

Click to shrink...

In the same way chimps are related to humans, yes.

 

[RoninSword]

In the same way chimps are related to humans, yes.

Click to shrink...

To be fair, the difference between a dragon and a wyvern is even less than chimps and humans. The biggest differences is that wyverns tend to have there wings fused with their front legs, and tend to have some actual fur instead of just scales.

 

[edale]

Yeah but this is Vista she could just manipulate space and cause a small saddle placed on her back to be Vista sized on the Vista side and Taylor sized on the Taylor side much like the effects of attacks against and by Fenja and Menja two way size alteration.

Click to shrink...

Vista's Manton Limit kills this. Sorry.

 

[Firedon]

To be fair, the difference between a dragon and a wyvern is even less than chimps and humans. The biggest differences is that wyverns tend to have there wings fused with their front legs, and tend to have some actual fur instead of just scales.

Click to shrink...

I'm sorry, but that is a really, really huge difference. Sure, they look really similar and all. But one has six limbs, the other has four. As far as I'm aware, every lizard bird or mammal has 4 limbs. You'd need a different starting base to get six limbed dragons.

 

[Muroshi9]

Vista's Manton Limit kills this. Sorry.

Click to shrink...

Not if she warped the dimensions of the saddle before putting it on Taylor. She is only limited by present living organisms when performing the warping they can move thorough or interact with that warped area without unwarping it.

 

[OverReactionGuy]

You know, Taylor's Wyvern's form will probably grow as she ages.

 

[IchibanSamurai]

Why are my arms wings now?

Click to shrink...

I am so happy that you got this right. Wyverns are four limbed while dragons are six limbed. Basically. So many people get it wrong, and think that Skyrim actually has dragons...Hah.

Spoiler: Math

Anyway, on topic, time to speculate about the effects of her Wyverndom. Firstly, she obviously has fire breath (she could probably get a bit of money doing an ad for spicy food, BTW), but I'm pretty sure she also has some physical improvements.

Firstly, is her wingspan 3-5 meters? Because if not, I honestly don't think she could fly. For reference, 1.8 m =~= 6'. Just looking at the Pteranodon, it was about 93 kg (~200 pounds) and had around 7 meters of wingspan. At the same ratio, which it almost certainly would have to be, for the kind of distance Taylor was going, I'm definitely thinking that, depending on her weight as a Wyvern (though I'm assuming above 100 pounds) she could run a 4 meter wingspan, easy.

But she isn't, because I'm assuming she's small enough to fit into a damned doorway, and that her arms aren't that large, compared to her human form, so that leaves us with the perplexing question - how the hell does she fly? It's probably not shard bullshit, as she had to flap, and even got tired. But it couldn't be normal flight, because she would have, at most a ~6' arm span (I'm using my own, as a almost if not fully matured male running at height of 5' 11") which is definitely not enough for flight. Admittedly, she was above a city, that probably generates plenty of heat- and updrafts! - not to mention that Taylor couldn't have been constantly flapping, as then you'd be expecting me to believe that an unfit girl, new to flying, somehow had the technique and conditioning required to keep 100 pounds, roughly level at ~50 feet in the air (although I'm using my small city as an example of a skyline; Brockton Bay is probably quite a bit higher) which is ~680 joules just to get up there, or 160 calories, and we're not done yet. A run at 10 m/h at Taylor's biometrics, per mile, is roughly 62 calories.

Do you seriously expect me to believe that in her physical condition, on her own power, with an indecent wingspan that she could do the equivalent work to running ~3+ miles? That's a third of an hour, at 10 m/h. I know people who can't run for five minutes, let alone 20! Hell, that's not even going into the energy required to get her to the ocean (not really sure how to calculate that, but I'll assume it's a quarter what it took to get up there, since she was maintaining her height, and only has to fight gravity).

I really do want to know how this is possible, because to me it makes no sense and really tests my willing suspension of disbelief.

 

[Firedon]

Do you seriously expect me to believe that in her physical condition, on her own power, with an indecent wingspan that she could do the equivalent work to running ~3+ miles? That's a third of an hour, at 10 m/h. I know people who can't run for five minutes, let alone 20! Hell, that's not even going into the energy required to get her to the ocean (not really sure how to calculate that, but I'll assume it's a quarter what it took to get up there, since she was maintaining her height, and only has to fight gravity).

I really do want to know how this is possible, because to me it makes no sense and really tests my willing suspension of disbelief.

Click to shrink...

The math stuff is a good question. But I have one for you. Why are you even talking about her physical condition. She changed her whole body. And her new body is fit enough to withstand that. It's that easy. That body also came with instincts.

My thoughts were disorganised; I couldn't focus. Instinct took over, and I rolled; another blast ripped past my wingtip, the air crackling in its wake. All fatigue had left me, replaced by adrenaline; I pumped my wings, powered into a short dive, then flipped up and over in a hard loop. A sharp turn at the top of the loop, avoiding a third laser shot

Click to shrink...

Clearly Taylor subconsciously knows how to use her body correctly.

That's not even going into the secondary powers she might have that could ease her flight somewhat.

 

[OverReactionGuy]

You know, Taylor could be stronger in her Wyvern form right? So her being an unfit teenage girl shouldn't really matter much at all.

-edit-

Ninja'd