jumboseafood
Not too sore, are you?
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It's more a personable quibble on my part. I just really hate sex scenes in TV shows and movies.
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Bad Company (Taylor/OC, Worm AU)
- Thread starter Eatersgrin
- Start date
jumboseafood
Not too sore, are you?
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I was wondering do you have any plans for Theo?
Eatersgrin
Know what you're doing yet?
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Last time I wrote him was in Shepherd Of Fire when he was the price of peace between the Empire and ABB, so Kaiser had to give him to Lung to ensure any attack on the ABB was an attack in his own son. So not really no.
jumboseafood
Not too sore, are you?
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So hey I may be overstepping here and am sorry if I am. But I had an idea to what to do with Theo I think you might finding interesting.
So basically he finds Charlotte a little after Levithan romance happens and he ends up becoming a almost literal Golem trying to protect the remains of the Bays Jewish neighborhoods.
So basically he finds Charlotte a little after Levithan romance happens and he ends up becoming a almost literal Golem trying to protect the remains of the Bays Jewish neighborhoods.
Eatersgrin
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Interesting idea and feel free to run with it!
From what I did write of Theo I'm not a hundred percent on understanding the guy. I do have ideas of what I'd do but I'm not invested enough to see myself keeping with it.
I kinda burned myself when I wrote the Ward setting Imp story and fear getting a similar reaction of a lot of work and little to no feedback. But I encourage you to take a stab at it.
jumboseafood
Not too sore, are you?
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Ya if ever did write a fic it would be WOD and Parahumans cross. But I can't write to save my life.
Eatersgrin
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Half the time I pick a story topic it's because I like the character (Taylor/Ashley/Imp) or I like the setup (Have No Fear of Perfection/Shepherd Of Fire).
And I been writing since I was teen and it's been a couple decades so a lot of my unease about my work is gone because I've been doing this long enough. The two ways to get better at writing is read more and just write.
And when I mean write I mean - anything.
I enjoy people watching, despite hating people as a concept l. In my people watching over my life I have overheard conversations. To the point dialogue is my favorite thing to write.
I'd go home on the bus and write down bits of conversations I heard. And I'd try to imagine a story out of it just to practice.
Another thing to try is to watch a movie trailer and then figure out how the story starts and ends with what you're given. I'm still not good at writing endings but I know how to build up to an ending, sort of do a last call for the reader to let them know things are wrapping up. And also how to start a story to get people's attention and keep it.
Arc 2, Ch 11: This Is Life
Eatersgrin
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"Jack?"
Panic shot through me as my dust form held Mannequin trapped. Was the psycho with the knives coming? Was he going to mow down the survivors while me and Mannequin hung from the rafters?
"Jack?" The voice calling out was closer, familiar.
Gray smoke started filtering into the empty room.
"Skitter sent me to help you, Jack".
It was Madison.
Her smoke started wafting up into the rafters now as the floor below me was swallowed up by the gray fog. I couldn't even see her and Taylor sent her, with her powers still not quite tested to help deal with this featureless nightmare.
"Let him go. It's okay, don't you worry. I'll be okay, Jack", she sounded confident and a little condescending, or maybe my past opinion of her is still coloring her.
In my breaker state I didn't feel the effect of her power as it finally filled the place to the ceiling but I could feel Mannequin trying to twitch more.
I drew some of the sand and grit and dirt from some of his joints. We don't need him one hundred percent battle ready from the get go as I pull myself free from him.
The freak dangles for a moment and like in a slasher horror film he comes back to life and pounces into the center of the fog where Madison's voice comes from. Wet sounds come from the fog and slowly it starts to thin out. The Slaughterhouse Nine member can be vaguely made out as his body is standing at an imposing height.
Then all at once Mannequin collapses, chain slowly unspools onto the floor from his joints as limbs occasionally twitch.
"Are you okay?" The winds of my breaker state vocalize for me. I search through the dense fog and finally brush against Madison in the center. Blood was wet on her forehead and chest, the fabric of her top torn and stained, exposing part of her chest but there was no wound.
"I'm okay, Jack. He got me and -", the liquid-like smoke thinned more and more until the fog disappeared into her body.
"I got him", she stated as she pulled the hoodie she wore to cover her chest.
I swapped back into my Dust Devil costume form and Skitter came into view of the building's entrance.
"He attacked you and you whammied him with your wounds?" Taylor asked Madison.
'Yeah, he went for my heart and head. It's strange knowing you're dying and then you're just - not. Strange, and a little fucked up", Madison's voice sounded hollow and more like she was just speaking her thoughts than talking to us.
As Madison stood in the warehouse staring at Mannequin as the chain lengths ceased coming, I went to Skitter.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded then spoke to me in her caveman way, "Bruised. Sore. You?"
"I'd shrug then I'd scream. Bastard got me good during the fight", I said as I saw her hesitate. A half step she took towards me but she hung back as I cradled my arm.
I turned to Madison, she had pulled the strings on the hoodie tight. Blood stained the sleeves where she kept wiping at her forehead staring at the fallen tinker, "You sure he's dead? You got him?"
I had to ask, to be sure. The Slaughterhouse Nine work like horror movie monsters and made for TV serial killers. They're tough, vindictive, and Wile E Coyote cartoon durable.
She didn't answer. She just kept wiping, squeezing her elbows together to keep her hoodie shut.
Skitter pointed her chin at Madison, "I'm going back out to check on the people, and call for medical. You got this?"
"Maybe send someone with some bags of quick dry cement and a big barrel. So we can make sure this fucker gets a proper burial, Boss?"
Skitter nodded and left me to Madison.
"Hey, Madison. It's me - it's - Jack", I stood in front of where she was staring and put my good hand on her shoulder.
She blinked several times and colored eyes looked up at me, faint traces of silvery veins left an interesting pattern on the side of her face, "Jack?"
"I'm right here, you did good. I'm sorry you had to fight. I'm sorry you had to kill a monster. I'm sorry you got hurt. I know I promised to protect you and I basically whiffed it, didn't I?"
Shook her head no, "I told you what to do. Tay- Skitter wanted me to test what I could do or you... you'd die if I didn't".
Well, Taylor wasn't wrong but it was a calculated risk. Luckily Taylor is better at math than me. But even then I had that stupid string puppet asshole locked down.
"You got hurt, your arm?"
As Madison reached a bloody sleeve out to touch it, I kinda boggled at the weird gentleness. I really really wasn't used to seeing her as anything but the short bully of The Trio. Seeing her bloody and retraumatized standing near the building entrance - we're kids being forced to fight to survive.
The world is cruel and unfair.
Her arm pushed mine and the pain snapped me back to attention, "Clam- calico? My collar bone, it snapped when he hit me. Think he knew what he was doing because my arm won't do what I want without a bunch of pain and it goes weak now when I lift it".
I tried to demonstrate but Madison just interrupted me, "Jack?"
I'm still not used to being called nicknames. I give them nicknames.
"Yeah?"
"This is all really real, right? It's not like a nightmare or drugs making me think I'm fighting a bad guy? Those people out there are really dead?"
"Yeah -", her arms shot out and wrapped around me, and I winced. "- it's all really real. This is life while the world falls apart. This is life with powers, Madison."
I could feel the warmth of her tears and the shudders of her breath through my costume.
~~x
I sat vigil over the blue barrel as the cement cured, entombing Mannequin's remains before I returned to Skitter's base.
When I walked in I found Taylor unmasked, Madison, Tattletale, Grue and Imp present.
"Jack!" Madison exclaimed from the kitchen. She looked clean and less haunted by the morning events. Madison had her hair under a white bandana tied under her chin. The kind some of the residents wore around their necks to soak up the sweat. She wore some of the clothes Cranston sent and had borrowed another of my hoodies
Everyone borrows my clothes. What is the deal? I'm going to walk in one day and find Brutus in one of my sweaters.
"Jack?" Imp asked from behind her mask. "Isn't that Mr. Boy?"
It hit me all at once as the main floor of the base smelled like a stroll through the mall. A childhood of smells with cookies, popcorn, chicken tenders and french fries wafting through the air. Imp was all over the kitchen as Madison apparently reverted to babysitter mode and started doting on the assembled Undersiders fixing bowls and putting out baking sheets of snacks.
"Hey Dusty Boy", Tattletale waved me over. "Medics are on the way for you once they're done with the rest of the people".
Man, I hated Lisa.
"Why are Grue and Grue Jr. here?", I asked Taylor. Her face finally looked a little different, she looked sheepish.
"Burnscar hit their territory and gutted it, so Taylor here took them in. Imp had pretty much emptied the area of enemies and residents alike so loss of life was minimal", Tattletale answered.
I felt dirty being involved in a convo where the loss of people's lives was talked about like that.
"The homeless... skels are still people. Or at least that's how we treat them here", I replied to Lisa.
"Great job there, hero. Want a cookie? Because they're still dead no matter how you feel about their socioeconomic status".
I threw my good hand up and suppressed a yelp, "Nngh, whatever I dragged Madison here and it's Taylor's base she can have whoever she wants. I'm just some asshole everyone she knows picks on. I'm going upstairs".
I ignored whatever Taylor and Madison were saying. I just was hurt and tired from all this. The Undersiders, Coil and his clowns, the goddamn Nine, and I couldn't even stop Mannequin on my own.
I made my way into the dark bedroom and sat down on the floor, my back against the foot of the bed. I tried to pull the costume off but my arm didn't want to cooperate. So I just leaned back and finally let my thoughts drift to my injury.
Broken bones take several weeks if not months to heal. It wasn't my first and now that I think about it my skull is made of bone and got the hell cracked out of it. What if Mannequin knew about that? What if he had dropped an elbow on my head?
I'd be a vegetable or dead or worse, if Bonesaw got me like she did Oni Lee.
HOW DO YOU EVEN DO THAT TO A PERSON?!
I can't even protect myself. What makes me think I can protect a territory let alone Annie or Abuela or even Madison?
How did I even get Madison included in that thinking?!
I'm not a man. I'm not even a hero. I don't think I ever was. I was a dirty secret the people in charge of the heroes buried in a crap assignment and stupid patrols.
I shut my eyes and just focused on my injury. Thinking about it, trying to will it healed. But nope, it still aches when I breathe.
Strong hands woke me up, the light on the bedroom was on and I was hoping it was the same fisherman guy from when Taylor was hurt at my house. Instead this guy was younger and was dressed in tactical gear like Coil's mercs.
"Too good a day for fishing?" I asked.
The young guy's brows were knit together in concentration as he started cutting me out of the costume with shears.
"You've been running around like this since this morning?"
"Ugh, not just running, dodging and fighting, it sucked".
"You don't know when to quit, do you?"
"Thinking about it".
"I'd suggest keeping yourself from using your arm for a couple months but you have work to do. So with that out of the way... I'm going to examine you, best guess if it's a break or multiple breaks or a fracture. Slap a sling on you, and if it's a fracture get you an orthotic device that will give you some better support while you heal up" after that they started poking and prodding at my injury.
"Plus give you drugs".
"For the pain, right?"
They didn't say anything as they used their thumbs to lightly shift the bone at the injury site.
Ouch.
"For the- pain, right?"
They released me, "Yeah, for the pain. It's a fracture. I'll get that harness for you, should fit under your clothes and costume. Try not to use your left arm for - anything. I'll give your Boss some instructions on when to start physical therapy for the arm in the next several weeks. Hopefully by Christmas you can go back to the SouthPaw life, bucko".
The wind went out of my sails, "Circus."
"Yeah?"
"Do you have medical training?"
"You'd be surprised to know I've done surgery on myself. Life as an independent is most profitable but ... can be lonely", he - she - they patted my healthy shoulder and stood up.
"You did good out there, Ray. You dealt with the Merchants, Mannequin is dead, and you recruited a new Cape. Very fortuitous, Mr. Alcaraz, I knew you were something special. Now when we're done here, you will go downstairs and Tattletale will take your report of the events for Coil. After that you will do as Skitter instructs you, personal feelings aside, and your Grandmother will continue to be safe".
Circus in tactical gear pulled an orange pill bottle from a pocket on their vest and bent over and placed it gently in my injured side's hand, "Those are strong. Try not to drink alcohol while on those. Take them only when you can't bear the pain or you think you might have to use your arm. There is going to be a meeting called tonight that you and The Undersiders must attend. Bring the new girl. I'll have costume pieces for her to choose from when your harness is brought. In the meantime, talk to Tattletale, listen to Skitter, and steal some rest."
So I sat there on the floor of the bedroom at Circus' feet. The once and only private and safe spot in all of Brockton Bay for me and Anne, now it was tainted by my mercenary medic disguised Clown stal-
"Get the hell out of here, Circus. Coil might run the show but Skitter and me are the damn talent. So screw off with your Trojan Horse disguise crap. You act like you care but you... You're dead behind the eyes. You don't know what you want or what you need and I'm not a stupid toy to play with when you're bored. So - so fuck off".
The sledgehammer slammed into the space on the floor between my legs.
"Have it your way. But you are going to wish I still cared when this - all of this is over", they said coolly as they dragged the weapon across the floor as they exited the room.
Panic shot through me as my dust form held Mannequin trapped. Was the psycho with the knives coming? Was he going to mow down the survivors while me and Mannequin hung from the rafters?
"Jack?" The voice calling out was closer, familiar.
Gray smoke started filtering into the empty room.
"Skitter sent me to help you, Jack".
It was Madison.
Her smoke started wafting up into the rafters now as the floor below me was swallowed up by the gray fog. I couldn't even see her and Taylor sent her, with her powers still not quite tested to help deal with this featureless nightmare.
"Let him go. It's okay, don't you worry. I'll be okay, Jack", she sounded confident and a little condescending, or maybe my past opinion of her is still coloring her.
In my breaker state I didn't feel the effect of her power as it finally filled the place to the ceiling but I could feel Mannequin trying to twitch more.
I drew some of the sand and grit and dirt from some of his joints. We don't need him one hundred percent battle ready from the get go as I pull myself free from him.
The freak dangles for a moment and like in a slasher horror film he comes back to life and pounces into the center of the fog where Madison's voice comes from. Wet sounds come from the fog and slowly it starts to thin out. The Slaughterhouse Nine member can be vaguely made out as his body is standing at an imposing height.
Then all at once Mannequin collapses, chain slowly unspools onto the floor from his joints as limbs occasionally twitch.
"Are you okay?" The winds of my breaker state vocalize for me. I search through the dense fog and finally brush against Madison in the center. Blood was wet on her forehead and chest, the fabric of her top torn and stained, exposing part of her chest but there was no wound.
"I'm okay, Jack. He got me and -", the liquid-like smoke thinned more and more until the fog disappeared into her body.
"I got him", she stated as she pulled the hoodie she wore to cover her chest.
I swapped back into my Dust Devil costume form and Skitter came into view of the building's entrance.
"He attacked you and you whammied him with your wounds?" Taylor asked Madison.
'Yeah, he went for my heart and head. It's strange knowing you're dying and then you're just - not. Strange, and a little fucked up", Madison's voice sounded hollow and more like she was just speaking her thoughts than talking to us.
As Madison stood in the warehouse staring at Mannequin as the chain lengths ceased coming, I went to Skitter.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded then spoke to me in her caveman way, "Bruised. Sore. You?"
"I'd shrug then I'd scream. Bastard got me good during the fight", I said as I saw her hesitate. A half step she took towards me but she hung back as I cradled my arm.
I turned to Madison, she had pulled the strings on the hoodie tight. Blood stained the sleeves where she kept wiping at her forehead staring at the fallen tinker, "You sure he's dead? You got him?"
I had to ask, to be sure. The Slaughterhouse Nine work like horror movie monsters and made for TV serial killers. They're tough, vindictive, and Wile E Coyote cartoon durable.
She didn't answer. She just kept wiping, squeezing her elbows together to keep her hoodie shut.
Skitter pointed her chin at Madison, "I'm going back out to check on the people, and call for medical. You got this?"
"Maybe send someone with some bags of quick dry cement and a big barrel. So we can make sure this fucker gets a proper burial, Boss?"
Skitter nodded and left me to Madison.
"Hey, Madison. It's me - it's - Jack", I stood in front of where she was staring and put my good hand on her shoulder.
She blinked several times and colored eyes looked up at me, faint traces of silvery veins left an interesting pattern on the side of her face, "Jack?"
"I'm right here, you did good. I'm sorry you had to fight. I'm sorry you had to kill a monster. I'm sorry you got hurt. I know I promised to protect you and I basically whiffed it, didn't I?"
Shook her head no, "I told you what to do. Tay- Skitter wanted me to test what I could do or you... you'd die if I didn't".
Well, Taylor wasn't wrong but it was a calculated risk. Luckily Taylor is better at math than me. But even then I had that stupid string puppet asshole locked down.
"You got hurt, your arm?"
As Madison reached a bloody sleeve out to touch it, I kinda boggled at the weird gentleness. I really really wasn't used to seeing her as anything but the short bully of The Trio. Seeing her bloody and retraumatized standing near the building entrance - we're kids being forced to fight to survive.
The world is cruel and unfair.
Her arm pushed mine and the pain snapped me back to attention, "Clam- calico? My collar bone, it snapped when he hit me. Think he knew what he was doing because my arm won't do what I want without a bunch of pain and it goes weak now when I lift it".
I tried to demonstrate but Madison just interrupted me, "Jack?"
I'm still not used to being called nicknames. I give them nicknames.
"Yeah?"
"This is all really real, right? It's not like a nightmare or drugs making me think I'm fighting a bad guy? Those people out there are really dead?"
"Yeah -", her arms shot out and wrapped around me, and I winced. "- it's all really real. This is life while the world falls apart. This is life with powers, Madison."
I could feel the warmth of her tears and the shudders of her breath through my costume.
~~x
I sat vigil over the blue barrel as the cement cured, entombing Mannequin's remains before I returned to Skitter's base.
When I walked in I found Taylor unmasked, Madison, Tattletale, Grue and Imp present.
"Jack!" Madison exclaimed from the kitchen. She looked clean and less haunted by the morning events. Madison had her hair under a white bandana tied under her chin. The kind some of the residents wore around their necks to soak up the sweat. She wore some of the clothes Cranston sent and had borrowed another of my hoodies
Everyone borrows my clothes. What is the deal? I'm going to walk in one day and find Brutus in one of my sweaters.
"Jack?" Imp asked from behind her mask. "Isn't that Mr. Boy?"
It hit me all at once as the main floor of the base smelled like a stroll through the mall. A childhood of smells with cookies, popcorn, chicken tenders and french fries wafting through the air. Imp was all over the kitchen as Madison apparently reverted to babysitter mode and started doting on the assembled Undersiders fixing bowls and putting out baking sheets of snacks.
"Hey Dusty Boy", Tattletale waved me over. "Medics are on the way for you once they're done with the rest of the people".
Man, I hated Lisa.
"Why are Grue and Grue Jr. here?", I asked Taylor. Her face finally looked a little different, she looked sheepish.
"Burnscar hit their territory and gutted it, so Taylor here took them in. Imp had pretty much emptied the area of enemies and residents alike so loss of life was minimal", Tattletale answered.
I felt dirty being involved in a convo where the loss of people's lives was talked about like that.
"The homeless... skels are still people. Or at least that's how we treat them here", I replied to Lisa.
"Great job there, hero. Want a cookie? Because they're still dead no matter how you feel about their socioeconomic status".
I threw my good hand up and suppressed a yelp, "Nngh, whatever I dragged Madison here and it's Taylor's base she can have whoever she wants. I'm just some asshole everyone she knows picks on. I'm going upstairs".
I ignored whatever Taylor and Madison were saying. I just was hurt and tired from all this. The Undersiders, Coil and his clowns, the goddamn Nine, and I couldn't even stop Mannequin on my own.
I made my way into the dark bedroom and sat down on the floor, my back against the foot of the bed. I tried to pull the costume off but my arm didn't want to cooperate. So I just leaned back and finally let my thoughts drift to my injury.
Broken bones take several weeks if not months to heal. It wasn't my first and now that I think about it my skull is made of bone and got the hell cracked out of it. What if Mannequin knew about that? What if he had dropped an elbow on my head?
I'd be a vegetable or dead or worse, if Bonesaw got me like she did Oni Lee.
HOW DO YOU EVEN DO THAT TO A PERSON?!
I can't even protect myself. What makes me think I can protect a territory let alone Annie or Abuela or even Madison?
How did I even get Madison included in that thinking?!
I'm not a man. I'm not even a hero. I don't think I ever was. I was a dirty secret the people in charge of the heroes buried in a crap assignment and stupid patrols.
I shut my eyes and just focused on my injury. Thinking about it, trying to will it healed. But nope, it still aches when I breathe.
Strong hands woke me up, the light on the bedroom was on and I was hoping it was the same fisherman guy from when Taylor was hurt at my house. Instead this guy was younger and was dressed in tactical gear like Coil's mercs.
"Too good a day for fishing?" I asked.
The young guy's brows were knit together in concentration as he started cutting me out of the costume with shears.
"You've been running around like this since this morning?"
"Ugh, not just running, dodging and fighting, it sucked".
"You don't know when to quit, do you?"
"Thinking about it".
"I'd suggest keeping yourself from using your arm for a couple months but you have work to do. So with that out of the way... I'm going to examine you, best guess if it's a break or multiple breaks or a fracture. Slap a sling on you, and if it's a fracture get you an orthotic device that will give you some better support while you heal up" after that they started poking and prodding at my injury.
"Plus give you drugs".
"For the pain, right?"
They didn't say anything as they used their thumbs to lightly shift the bone at the injury site.
Ouch.
"For the- pain, right?"
They released me, "Yeah, for the pain. It's a fracture. I'll get that harness for you, should fit under your clothes and costume. Try not to use your left arm for - anything. I'll give your Boss some instructions on when to start physical therapy for the arm in the next several weeks. Hopefully by Christmas you can go back to the SouthPaw life, bucko".
The wind went out of my sails, "Circus."
"Yeah?"
"Do you have medical training?"
"You'd be surprised to know I've done surgery on myself. Life as an independent is most profitable but ... can be lonely", he - she - they patted my healthy shoulder and stood up.
"You did good out there, Ray. You dealt with the Merchants, Mannequin is dead, and you recruited a new Cape. Very fortuitous, Mr. Alcaraz, I knew you were something special. Now when we're done here, you will go downstairs and Tattletale will take your report of the events for Coil. After that you will do as Skitter instructs you, personal feelings aside, and your Grandmother will continue to be safe".
Circus in tactical gear pulled an orange pill bottle from a pocket on their vest and bent over and placed it gently in my injured side's hand, "Those are strong. Try not to drink alcohol while on those. Take them only when you can't bear the pain or you think you might have to use your arm. There is going to be a meeting called tonight that you and The Undersiders must attend. Bring the new girl. I'll have costume pieces for her to choose from when your harness is brought. In the meantime, talk to Tattletale, listen to Skitter, and steal some rest."
So I sat there on the floor of the bedroom at Circus' feet. The once and only private and safe spot in all of Brockton Bay for me and Anne, now it was tainted by my mercenary medic disguised Clown stal-
"Get the hell out of here, Circus. Coil might run the show but Skitter and me are the damn talent. So screw off with your Trojan Horse disguise crap. You act like you care but you... You're dead behind the eyes. You don't know what you want or what you need and I'm not a stupid toy to play with when you're bored. So - so fuck off".
The sledgehammer slammed into the space on the floor between my legs.
"Have it your way. But you are going to wish I still cared when this - all of this is over", they said coolly as they dragged the weapon across the floor as they exited the room.
jumboseafood
Not too sore, are you?
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Madison is just the perfect meatshield and her mental health is absolutely fine no need to worry.
Last edited:
Eatersgrin
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Nothing works up an appetite like the near death battle against a Slaughterhouse Nine member.
jumboseafood
Not too sore, are you?
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Comfort eating is a perfect substitute for therapy with zero drawbacks or problems later down the line
jumboseafood
Not too sore, are you?
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Do not necro. This is against Rule 7.
I don't want to be that guy but is this fic dead?
Eatersgrin
Know what you're doing yet?
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Nope.
Just dealing with life at the moment. Ray and Taylor's pickle with the Nine is still going. I didn't get a very good prognosis from my neuro status exam or MRI.
jumboseafood
Not too sore, are you?
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Sorry to hear about you're health problems. I hope everything works out for you.
Alice Fairchild
Getting out there.
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Hi, hope you're doing better. Take your time and do come back to the story. Take care.
Eatersgrin
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Still working on the last couple chapters. Med adjustment is not going well but I appreciate the sentiment and kind words.
I really enjoy writing Bad Company so I don't want to pump out a fat chapter and have it just hit plot points to wrap the arc up. I was really motivated in the first few weeks of writing it and I want to recapture that spark.