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Charm Learning Shard (Worm/Exalted) (COMPLETED)

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Daniel Snuts, Apr 24, 2022.

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  1. Amberion

    Amberion Know what you're doing yet?

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    Often times in superhero stories, it's 'us vs them' mentality, where the heroes go and 'beat up criminals'. It's super simple and not realistic at all, and is a form of escapism that doesn't involve actually thinking about 'issues'. Once you think 'oh, this neo-nazi has actual opinions about things but he's not all terrible, he treats 'his type' of people relatively okay, so you get that lopsided view of him, because you're not really being exposed to the bad side.

    Taylor is white. Unless she says or does something that marks her as what they would call a 'race traitor', they'll generally treat her okay, and since she's 'joined' the E88, they think she's an ally, so they treat her accordingly. So, she's getting, like, half the big picture.

    When we join a group, we want subconsciously to belong. Taylor's feeling a little bit of that. She's also using the language, which is actually dangerous for her because when you say things, it's not a huge leap toward thinking them too. So, she needs to watch out.
     
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  2. Daniel Snuts

    Daniel Snuts Know what you're doing yet?

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    Shit, you're right. But if I fix that continuity issue, I lose out on a scene of wholesome Taylor/Wolf interaction. I can't do it.

    Maybe I can move it to a future chapter...

    The date of the most recent chapter (as can be inferred from the PHO timestamps in L.26) is April 10, 2011.

    She doesn't think it'll be exact, but she reasonably assumes that it will be generally 'grow bigger'-themed.
     
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  3. Omnomimous

    Omnomimous [Verified Hungry]

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    I mean, there are any of a dozen social charms that would let her easily turn the E88 into whatever flavor of pro-Taylor fanatic she wanted, en masse. She just needs some quality time with someone who has a non-physical master power.
     
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  4. Logos01

    Logos01 Versed in the lewd.

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    Yes, Taylor + Heartbreaker == OTP foh shizzles, nothing can go wrong there.

    I know that's not where you're going and that what you said is technically correct, but honestly: how do you route Taylor from the Point A she's currently at in this fic to the Point B of her having accessed such individuals with the required time to actually pull that off?

    That's narrative Deus ex Machina territory; I don't see it happening.
     
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  5. Alucard 109

    Alucard 109 Not too sore, are you?

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    In order, the four most likely sources I could think of for her to get something like that without specifically seeking it out are: Glory Girl, Gallant, Cherish, and Jack Slash.

    Side note: if this story makes it to Slaughterhouse, there's a fairly solid chance of her joining...
     
  6. Amberion

    Amberion Know what you're doing yet?

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    Short of some kind of crisis - perhaps breaking some sort of barrier, or wall, a limit of some sort - you might be right. It would take something pretty major to get her to re-examine the path she's on.
     
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  7. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    You don't have two wives decapitated when no fault is involved. And the first divorce was more of an annulment because she'd been married to his late brother and that was a big no-no at the time.
    I think 'cooperating' is more accurate than 'allies'. Hitler literally wrote a book saying that he wanted to kill them all, and Stalin knew they were going to end up fighting eventually.
     
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  8. Threadmarks: L.29
    Daniel Snuts

    Daniel Snuts Know what you're doing yet?

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    Your school is more accommodating about your unplanned absence than your dad was:

    "If you don't provide a valid reason this will go on your permanent record."

    "Okay."

    You can see in her eyes the moment she decides that Winslow kids gonna Winslow kid, and saving a destitute charity transfer from themselves is not her job. Just because they're serious about being the good school doesn't mean they care.

    ---

    When you arrive at the bar for your patrol shift, the atmosphere is strangely tense. Stormtiger is there, which is also unusual, at least at the times you usually show up. He's facing the door, and not drinking.

    "What's wrong?" you ask. Lung was arrested, their rally went really well. Why the long faces?

    "Glory Girl broke up with her boyfriend again," the bartender says.

    "O... kay?"

    "Her comfort food is ambushing lone skinheads and breaking all their bones."

    "Oh." The gossip rags were for intelligence purposes.

    "We've switched up the patrols. Bigger groups, no one goes out without parahuman support. Your group is assembling out back."

    "Okay." Welp, there goes your power study this evening, and possibly for several weeks more until Glory Girl gets over herself. Considering your interactions with her so far, you're not exactly shocked to find out that she gets her jollies from bullying the powerless. Fucking heroes.

    Your group, as it turns out, consists of Alex, Sven, probably-Eric, Fake Swede, what's-his-name and that guy from Hookwolf's dojo. Look, unless they somehow distinguish themselves, what's even the point of them having names?

    "-and when you're not on patrol, stay indoors as much as possible," Alex is saying. "Othala will fix you up if Panacea doesn't, but no one likes having their bones broken-"

    "Rating: Mostly true," dojo guy interrupts him, nodding towards you. You give him the finger.

    "Keep pissing off our parahuman backup, see how that works out for you," Alex says. "To return to what I was saying: No matter what, you'll get patched up afterwards - but you'll be in a world of shit if she tortures information out of you. Be smart, stick together. Individually we're weak..."

    "But together we form a mighty faggot," the others chorus.

    "And without an axe blade attached-" you bow slightly and gesture towards yourself, "-you won't ever accomplish anything useful." See, you get some of their references.

    You summon Fenrir and set out with your... what should you call them? 'Members of the rank and file' is a bit of a mouthful, and your brain for some reason keeps wanting to call them 'mortals' (which is rude - it's not as if you're immortal. Yet). Baselines? Normies? Mundanes? Charges. You set out with your charges.

    They are kinda tense moving out, but the presence of a giant wolf by their side seems to set them at ease, and soon enough they're bantering as usual. You are in no way exempt, but you like to think that you give as good as you get. By the Empire's rules your status as a parahuman inherently makes you their social and military superior... but between your reputation on the battlefield as Psycho Bitch (object of awe, fear and mirth) and your reputation on the training field as Hookwolf's Retarded Chew Toy (object of pity and contempt) it balances out pretty close to you being 'one of the boys'.

    Your gender is not an issue. While not a single person at the bar would complain if the nineteenth amendment was repealed tomorrow, and most of them would cheer, you wouldn't quite call them misogynists. Their main point of contention is that women are too nice to be given political power, that they would never vote for the drastic measures necessary to save America (insert air quotes as appropriate).

    Considering the 'election results if only men/women voted' graphics you've seen passed around, they're not wrong. But as a parahuman you're scientifically proven not to suffer from excessive niceness. And, hah, empirically proven by joining up in the first place.

    Alex is currently teasing dojo guy ('Otto', you think you overheard his name was) for worshipping a kike on a stick (which is how the atheist contingent of the Empire refers to our lord and savior Jesus Christ), while Fake Swede is giving Eric shit for being a... 'nazbol'? A nazi bolshevik? How does that even work?

    "How do you manage to get along so well despite your differences?" you ask Sven. Which is not something you ever expected to ask a nazi, but here you are.

    Sven shrugs. "Doesn't matter what kind of society you're trying to build, the first step is always to exclude blacks and jews, 'cos they'll fuck it up. One of 'em'll fuck it up by accident, the other'll fuck it up on purpose."

    It probably also helps that they don't really disagree all that much when you get down to it. Even atheist Alex admits that Christianity used to be pretty cool: Condemning degeneracy, fighting off the muslim invasion of Europe, and generally helping shape Northern Europeans into the most awesome people on the planet. And Otto agrees that it pretty much sucks nowadays, doing the opposite of all those things. They just disagree on whether it can be salvaged, in this scientific age.

    "Bruh, the age ain't scientific," Otto says. "That's jewish bullshit. People want a set of divine commandments to follow so they can feel virtuous, and you can't stop 'em from getting some. It's the duty of the state to provide a state religion with good commandments, so they don't pick up some dumb cult bullshit."

    You've never considered religion in those terms before. There's obviously some motivated reasoning going on, what with him being pro-christian to start with, but is he wrong? If you consider arbitrary moral prescriptions as part of the hierarchy of needs...

    "Huh," you say. When the mortals turn to you, you wave them off. "No, nothing. It's just that vegans suddenly make sense."

    "At least veganism is-"

    Your attention is drawn from the argument when you spot the three people coming down the street towards you. Dark skin, check. Merchant colors, check. Guns, ch-

    "Guns!" you shout. Of course you had to be enriched by the gun-toting kind of diversity today, when you have a bunch of mortals to protect and your ranged support is busy elsewhere. Can't be helped. As your mortals dive for cover behind parked cars, you kick Fenrir into a run.

    They obviously don't miss your shout. Or the giant wolf bearing down on them. Two handguns and a shotgun are brought to bear on you. You press yourself against Fenrir's back to present the lowest possible profile.

    Shots ring out as you close the distance. Even outdoors, it's still ridiculously loud. Hollywood really does not do it justice. Fenrir yips as he's hit but does not stumble, does not slow down. Good wolf.

    Also, ow. Now you know how your costume felt when you were making it. The sensation of a needle punching through leather is an excellent analogy.

    Of the three gunmen, two have the sense to turn and run when their weapons prove insufficient. The remaining idiot tries for one last shot, and gets his hand bitten off for his trouble. Fenrir keeps right on going, bowling him over as he goes after the runners. Fleeing isn't going to work, but the idea was sound.

    You pull your knife with your remaining good hand and launch yourself at the guy on the left as Fenrir lunges for the one on the right. You land point first and the knife digs into his back satisfyingly as the impact sends him sprawling. How'd you like that, motherfucker? Not feeling so smart bringing a gun to a knife fight now, are you?

    You get a bit emotional when someone hurts your dog, alright?

    ...trying to get up seems to hurt a lot more than it should.

    "Holy shit what the fuck?" Over the ringing in your ears, you hear a shout from the direction you came.

    "What did you expect, patrolling with Psycho Bitch?"

    "Fucking bulletproof goddamn wolf?"

    Otto comes running up to you. "Hey, are you-" His face falls. "She's hit! Alex! She's bleeding!"

    "Shit! Get Othala on the line, right now! How bad is it?" Alex runs over to kneel at your side.

    "It's cool," you say, "pretty sure the bullet went all the way through." No need to worry about digging it out before Othala does her thing.

    "It's absolutely not cool," Alex insists. He's shrugging his way out of his shirt as he speaks. "You and you, apply pressure to the wounds. Here." He hands his wadded up shirt to one of the designated volunteers.

    Having a grown man lean his weight on your freshly perforated shoulder isn't super awesome, and the guy stuffing his own shirt in the exit wound in your side also leaves some things to be desired, comfort-wise. It's all so unnecessary, you stopped bleeding on your own before you even jumped off the wolf.

    Oh well, you guess it's the thought that counts. You bleed a bit more, just enough to soak the cloth and prevent the nice men from feeling useless.

    "Really, you guys are making a huge deal out of this," you try. They aren't having any of it.

    "How come you're not wearing a vest?" Otto asks. "The hell were you thinking, charging a shooter without a vest?"

    Now that he mentions it, when the shirts came off just now they revealed kevlar rather than abs. Huh. No one issued you one of those. You offer half a shrug in response.

    Meanwhile, Alex has been performing triage on your defeated foes, starting with a tourniquet for Stumpy. The second guy is surprisingly rambunctious for someone with a knife sticking out of his back, requiring a couple of swift kicks to the head to calm down. Triage goes both ways, around these parts.

    He'll be fine. Given that he considered walking onto Empire turf to start shit a good idea in the first place, he won't notice some extra brain damage. The last guy is more docile, having been thrown into a wall by Fenrir and then generously stepped on.

    Fenrir has more holes in him than you and is limping a bit as he walks over, but he shares your sensible attitude towards bleeding. You're not seeing any exit wounds, though. He nuzzles you, showing mild concern.

    "I'm fine," you assure him. "Come closer." He lays his head on the ground next to yours and you whisper instructions directly into his ear.

    I really don't want to leave her side when she's hurt like that, but I do as she told me. I'm a good dog.

    Go into an alley. Make sure no one is watching. Demateralize.

    Five deformed little lumps of lead drop to the ground. Those were inside me? No wonder it hurt so much! She's so smart!

    I rematerialize and hurry back to rejoin her.

    With that done, all that's left to do is wait for the healer. Which is excruciating, and not just because of the pain. No one is in the mood for witty banter any more, yet when you suggest that you might take a nap instead they're all "No! Stay with us, Low Key! Look at me!"

    "'tis but a flesh wound," you say exasperatedly. "Stop being such mighty faggots about it."

    Finally, finally Othala arrives to fix you. You insist that she attempt to do the same for Fenrir, and are gratified to discover that your Master projection is lifelike enough to be granted regeneration (heh). When your patrol resumes, Alex motions the others to walk ahead and lowers his voice so only you can hear him.

    "You should be dead," he says.

    "Gee, thanks."

    "I'm serious. A hit like that, the internal bleeding should have killed you before Othala could arrive."

    "Luck."

    "Hmph."

    "Alright fine, skill. Bleeding is for-" you almost say 'mortals' "-losers. But I would be pretty upset if a Brute rating were to suddenly appear on Low Key's PRT profile," you add.

    He holds up his hands to protest his innocence. "I don't snitch on people who take a bullet for me. Personal policy."

    ---

    After the patrol, Otto refuses to let you leave. Instead he leads you to a small house on the southern edge of Empire territory, where it starts to fade into generic suburbs. It doesn't have a garden so much as a token strip of grass between the street and the porch. The American dream, compact version. But it does have an honest-to-god white picket fence, which you suspect is being enjoyed on multiple simultaneous levels of irony.

    "Wait here, I'll be right back," he says.

    You dismount and lean against the gatepost while he goes inside. You can make out a cry of "Honey? Where did I put my old gear again?" followed by a muffled conversation. You let your mind drift as you wait.

    You snap back to attention when Fenrir nudges you. You're being watched. The front door is ajar, and peeking out from behind it is a small boy of about five. He isn't parahuman (of course he isn't, just saying that's why you didn't notice him at first). He ducks back behind the door with an indrawn breath when he sees you looking at him.

    "Hi," you say. He gathers enough courage to peek back out, but not quite enough to respond. As he comes back into view, you notice that he's wearing a set of Velocity pyjamas. Normal enough for a kid his age, but considering that his father is part of the E88... The E88 consider themselves to be the good guys, of course, but roughly 100% of the media-industrial complex responsible for the existence of that costume disagrees. You wonder what age is appropriate for that conversation.

    "Are you a hero?" he asks eventually.

    You ponder this question. It's surprisingly hard to come up with a good answer. On the one hand, well, no, but...

    "Never trust anyone calling themselves a hero, kid." It's good life advice, and hopefully avoids stepping on too many toes, upbringing-wise.

    To his credit, the kid seems to think about your response for several seconds before dismissing it as typical adult nonsense. He steps out fully into view, carefully closes the door behind him, and positions himself facing you with his hands on his hips.

    "Do you beat up bad guys?" he demands seriously.

    "I do. In fact I beat up some bad guys with your dad earlier today."

    His eyes go wide as saucers. "My dad beats up bad guys?"

    Oops. "He didn't tell you?"

    He shakes his head fervently, eyes still wide.

    "You know that we have secret identities, right? So you mustn't tell anyone."

    He nods solemnly, but gasps as something occurs to him. An accusing finger shoots out to point at you. "You just told me!"

    "Yeah, I did. That was silly of me. But you're not silly, are you? You're smart. So you won't make that mistake, right?"

    The kid rapidly switches between nodding and shaking his head at each statement, the motions violent enough to give an older person whiplash. He keeps alternating for a while after you stop speaking, eventually degenerating into moving his head about randomly. He spreads his arms wide and dramatically falls over onto the grass. The expression on his face communicates that you had better appreciate how wacky it all is, so you chuckle dutifully at his antics.

    "Sorry about the delay, I- oh hey there champ." Otto returns carrying a small bundle. He bends down and scoops up his son with his free hand. "Isn't it past your bedtime?"

    All the shyness seems to have come crashing back down as he was picked up, and the kid is reduced to whispering in his father's ear.

    "Uh huh. Of course you had to sneak out and take a closer look."

    Whisper whisper.

    "She told you that, did she?" Otto shoots you a sharp glance. You can only shrug apologetically. "Did she also mention that you mustn't tell anyone else?"

    Nod nod. Whisper whisper.

    "I'm giving her some armor, so the bad guys can't hurt her."

    Whisper whisper whisper.

    "I don't know. Why don't you ask her?"

    Shake head. Whisper whisper.

    "Why not? You were talking to her before, right?"

    Nod- shake head!

    Otto sighs, but smiles fondly. "He wants to know if he can pet the wolf."

    "Of course."

    Fenrir holds very still as the kid gingerly places his hand on his forehead. They remain in that position for a while, until you whisper to Fenrir what he ought to do next.

    "It licked me!"

    "Its tongue was huuuuge!"

    "You still need to go to bed."

    "Huuuuuuuuge!"

    ---

    On your way home from school the next day, something unusual happens: Keeping sorcerer's sight up all day pays off, and you have a random encounter with a parahuman in civilian clothes. A blonde girl from Immaculata, who decided to run some errands in town without changing out of her school uniform. A shame that it gains you absolutely nothing.

    Well, almost nothing. You still get to sneak up behind her and throw your arm around her shoulders with a loud "You look adorable, girlfriend!"

    She startles, of course, and spins around to face you. It takes a moment before she recognizes you, but it's not as if you're trying to disguise your hair or voice.

    "Lo- L.K?" Rune says. "What? You- how?"

    You tap the side of your nose with a knowing grin. You have told her about your 'wolf senses'.

    "You're smelling me? That's creepy AF," she says without heat. "There's rules, you know."

    Oh, right. The Unwritten Rules. In your glee, you had momentarily forgotten. ...you're just going to stick with Lisa's diagnosis, and blame faulty neurotransmitters again. Yep, still hungover, no need to take personal responsibility for anything right now.

    "Come on, it's not like we're wearing name tags," you say cheerfully. "Besides, I couldn't not let you know that I found out your terrible secret: That behind the mask you're just a sweet and innocent schoolgirl." Rune tries to protest this description, but you continue undaunted. "Adorably harmless, like a little kitten!" Justice for the 'four faults' video has been achieved.

    "Never would have pegged you for a catholic, though" you muse. "Or wait, are you?" You know a lot of non-catholics also send their children to Immaculata - it's one of the 'good schools' they moved into Empire territory for.

    "Sort of?" Rune makes a 'so-so' gesture. "My folks left the church because the new pope wasn't catholic enough."

    You nod sagely. A lot that going around, you gather.

    ---

    Other than that your life has more or less returned to normal. Though there is still the issue of Lung hanging over your head. You suspect that he might be holding a teensy bit of a grudge over what happened, and you have no idea how much of your face he saw during your transformation. Thus, you stick around as the dojo closes down for the day, and approach Hookwolf after everyone else has left.

    "Whaddaya want?" He's gotten a lot less grumpy since he handed you off to his subordinates and didn't have to personally put up with your bullshit any more, but you're not exactly friends.

    "I heard Lung got himself caught, and is going to be sent to the Birdcage."

    "Everyone heard that. What of it?"

    "Won't it be nice, to no longer have to worry about the ABB?" you say in the most childishly cheerful voice you can manage.

    "Hah!" Hookwolf scoffs the way only someone who has twice been rescued from a Birdcage-bound prisoner transport can scoff.

    "Wouldn't it be a shame if some civically minded people with parahuman powers just happened to pass by as the transport came under attack, and decided to help the PRT out?"

    "I like the way you think," he admits. "But Kaiser wouldn't go for it. Bad whatchamacallit, precedent."

    "Please. With the ABB gone, who could possibly use those tactics against us? The Merchants?"

    "You're not wrong. But Kaiser won't have the balls to do it."

    "Fine. Forget it." You turn away in disgust. More unwritten rules. You're going to have to do this on your own. Somehow.

    Hookwolf's hand on your shoulder stops you before you can take more than a single step. "Kaiser doesn't have to know," he says softly.

    Well. "We'd need Krieg, though."

    "Why?"

    "We're defending the transport. From Oni Lee. We need Krieg."

    "Yeah, okay. I'll talk to him."

    "We'll be going behind Kaiser's back, though. Won't he be all 'nein, Ich bin just followink orders'?" You've hardly interacted with Krieg at all, but he has a reputation as a bit of a stereotype.

    "You've clearly never seen him with a couple of beers in him. Don't let the accent fool you." Hookwolf, telling you that stereotypes are bad.

    "I'll talk to Rune, get us some transport."

    "Make sure she keeps her mouth shut." He pauses for a bit, thinking. "How will we know when to strike, though? We can't blow off patrols to stake out the PRT, and Kaiser doesn't trust anyone else with his informants."

    "I know a guy who knows a guy."

    "Alright. Here's my number, call me when you have something."

    "Will do."

    "Hey," Hookwolf calls after you as you leave. "For a retarded dyke, you're not half bad." It's a peace offering, of sorts.

    "So I hear - your mom said the same thing last night." You accept it, and respond in kind.
     
  9. Vealie

    Vealie Versed in the lewd.

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    Never seen such a realistic depiction of 201X right wing extremists in fiction.

    This fic continues to be excellent entertainment.
     
  10. Omnomimous

    Omnomimous [Verified Hungry]

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    I'm mostly wondering when she gets access to her first Perfect Defense, given the old saying about exalted.

    So far as possible people to get one from, obviously Alexandria for Perfect Block (easily arguable for HGD), but that's not a viable option, same as Contessa for a Perfect Dodge/Perfect Attack source. Glory Girl could either give a Perfect Block or some kind of social attack. Interpreted loosely, Shadow Stalker could give a Perfect Dodge, especially SSE. Neither of those two are likely to allow her to study them for dozens of hours at minimum, though (unless she gets a decent social attack and very slightly more "morally flexible" first).
     
  11. goricnac

    goricnac I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    Ladies and gentlemen! We are off to an amazing start, today we are discussing why women are too soft for political office in general! The evidence that convinced Taylor of this? Some graphs passed around by literal nazis in a bar.

    Last chapter we had her mocking and criticizing how idiotic nazi ideology in general is, we now have her buying into the line that a state religion is needed to keep a moral population, mother of whiplash its like shes trying to overcompensate for the last chapter, also gotta note not all merchants are black. While its true the merchants would be the one place black criminals in the bay can go to their shtick is being druggies, they have people from basically every race in there. But I guess portraying all the druggy serial killers and rapists as black tracks to how this AU seems to be going.
     
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  12. GiantAnteater

    GiantAnteater Know what you're doing yet?

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    Isn't it basically the same thing that happened in canon? Traumatized teenager joins a villain group undercover, and gradually accepts their values. Good thing it wasn't the Teeth, wouldn't want to read that.
     
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  13. Waterfly

    Waterfly I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    Now I want to read that.
     
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  14. Malexander

    Malexander Apprentice Electromancer (still not in Prague)

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    Pretty sure I've read that.
     
  15. Edifier

    Edifier Trusted within thoughts.

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    Personally been dissapointed by teeth fics, since Taylor gets to avoid the drawbacks or consequences of it.
     
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  16. Zxzx24

    Zxzx24 I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    I wanna same the same thing about this fic, but it's just so loveable somehow isnt it?

    *generic nazi bad noises*

    There fulfilled my obligation. I am glad the other didnt go soft on us though.
     
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  17. Fernando

    Fernando Part-time Loaf

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    Eh, half of them end up being "Taylor overpowers everyone and rebrands the gang", the other half being "Taylor is in a constant mental battle against the other Butchers bc of course she kills XIV because she had an allergic reaction"

    Great concept, but tends to have either a poor execution or ends up treading the same old "indie faction that hates the PRT AND the gangs" because heaven forbid there be a nuanced take on the whole world wibblebobbly boo set up and hinted at both in canon and as WoGs.

    I mean, the Teeth was a big enough gang to contend with the Empire at its prime(?) under Allfather and Iron Rain and by proxy, Marquis and his gang, both of whom were implied to be charismatic and powerful to stalemate the Protectorate/PRT combo in the Bay.

    They were recruiting regulars somehow to keep up the turf war because for all that capes represent power, to hold territory as a gang you kinda need enforcers and members to patrol your claimed land, and I refuse to believe the Wiki when it says that just 20 nonpowered anarcho-mercenaries could support the 7 or 8 parahumans of the Teeth during their return to the Bay.

    Looking at it that way, the Teeth must've had something beyond the whole Blood for the Blood God schtick to contend with neo-nazis and the gentlecriminal to be mentioned in the same league in terms of influence. Even then there's also the fact that they weren't all killed (whether it's cuz Butcher's nature or something else, timeline's unclear) when the Nine drove them out of the city.

    So much potential, but no, gotta make it the same as the other three stories.
    -----
    Ooh, now I'm wondering if Allfather or Iron Rain's influence in the Empire still exists to the current day in the fic. Then again, with how little we know about them other than Marquis took credit for Iron Rain's death and Allfather being more radical than Kaiser.

    Gah, so many plot bunnies
     
  18. Dakkah

    Dakkah Know what you're doing yet?

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    Mandible is the only one I can think of (Not counting "Butcher!tay fics)

    Edit: Though no undercover scheme, just happenstance and good ol self preservation/rationalizing.
     
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  19. ShaperV

    ShaperV Experienced.

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    Yeah, that's one of it's better points. The author clearly knows enough about them to write the things they actually say and believe, instead of the tired old caricatures most stories rely on. Which makes it a lot more believable when Taylor slips and starts picking up some of their attitudes.

    Read more carefully. What Taylor actually said is that women are less likely to vote for the violent, genocidal policies the Nazis want to enact. That's not exactly a reason for non-Nazis to keep then out of politics, now is it?

    That belief isn't specific to Nazis, or even racists. There are huge swaths of both left and right-wing political thought that endorse this idea in one form or another. Usually the conservatives want to defend some traditional religion they believe in, while the liberals want to create a new religion that will shape society to meet their goals, but either way it amounts to the same thing.
     
  20. PlasticSoldier

    PlasticSoldier Experienced.

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    A Taylor+Krieg+Hookwolf vs. Oni Lee would be a total stomp, so obviously it's going to be much more complicated than it is on the surface.
     
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  21. pepperjack

    pepperjack A Variety of Cheese

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    Taylor+Krieg+Hookwolf vs. Oni Lee vs. the Protectorate escort force, Battle Royale-style, seems complicated enough.
     
  22. Doc Sithicus

    Doc Sithicus Not too sore, are you?

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    Now you know how Polish people feel about Pope Francis.

    We still have mixed feelings about Benedict XVI

    [​IMG]
     
  23. Fernando

    Fernando Part-time Loaf

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    The maybe hint
    implies that Bakuda may be coming soon™ to Brockton in one way or another. Perhaps the Simurgh fight interrupted the capture-incarceration of the Cornell bomber, maybe the Elite cell under Bastard Son decided to liberate the east coast a little sooner, or maybe Valefor decided to do a little trolling. At this point, who knows
     
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  24. Jannika

    Jannika Getting sticky.

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    You really should be clearer in your sarcasm because these observations, stupid as they are, could actually be mistaken for a genuine belief that Taylor is seeing the E88 as anything but a target for mockery and a means to an end.
     
  25. Akuma-Heika

    Akuma-Heika The Devil Exists Within

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    Considering some popes, this meme makes him seem like a super catholic :V
     
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  26. Prognostic Hannya

    Prognostic Hannya Knight of the Yuri Crusade

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    They were "allies" in the same way Britain and Germany were allies thanks to Neville Chamberlain.
     
  27. w34v3r

    w34v3r Versed in the lewd.

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    Oni-Lee is one of those capes that gets harder to deal with the more people are around. So generally speaking you don't want to many extras in a battle involving him.
     
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  28. Stanley_Jeb

    Stanley_Jeb Versed in the lewd.

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    Plus, she is a Lustrum kid. The only thing she could possibly find a woman guilty of is being too kind :p
     
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  29. space turtle

    space turtle Not too sore, are you?

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    I think I just died of laughter.
    This seems like the kind of thing that should be meme’d on PHO, “local nazi enforcer educates recruits on not judging books by their cover. In other news, flying pigs spotted circling the PRT headquarters, biotinker creation or first recorded animal cluster trigger?”

    This is exactly why I love this story.
    It turns out bad guys don’t just walk around being complete caricatures saying “wouldn’t it be great to go hurt some women and minorities”, they have families and make jokes.
    People could definitely do with seeing their opposite numbers as people.
    Otherwise they’re likely to BSoD if they ever come up against an actual charismatic neo nazi in real life and come to the same realisation that Taylor did a chapter or so ago. It they couldn’t be persuasive, garner peoples interest, and defend their points of view, they simply wouldn’t exist.
     
  30. Threadmarks: L.30
    Daniel Snuts

    Daniel Snuts Know what you're doing yet?

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    You're no more a fan of Glory Girl's current relationship status than anyone else in the Empire, but you admit that it has a silver lining: Her actively avoiding Gallant on her own makes her much safer to stalk! It doesn't make up for her keeping you away from Rune, but you're going make the most of it regardless.

    But when school lets out and she flies off to look for comfort food, you're confronted by a problem: You have nothing to do tonight. You've already recovered from your little dimensional misadventure, you don't need any more rest. And due to the way your incredibly slow yet inevitable rise towards omnipotence paints a target on your back, time is your most precious resource. You can't afford to waste it on not acquiring more powers.

    You did accidentally establish another identity last week: The whole world now knows that Double D is a Merchant cape who can turn into a dragon. Except possibly the Merchants, who know none of them recruited you. But you could just march up to Skidmark and tell him he totally recruited you, he just doesn't remember it because he was high off his tits at the time. Even if he doesn't totally believe it, there's no way he's going to turn down Lung 2.0 joining his shitty gang. Boom, instant access to new capes.

    There are only two problems with this plan: 1) They are going to insist you do drugs together, and drugs are bad. Drugs are the worst. 2) They're going to demand that you turn into a dragon to prove your identity, and you don't remember how to do that. Because you were high off your tits at the time. See point 1: Drugs are the fucking worst.

    Perhaps you could call Alec, and just take your chances on the whole slave puppet thing. It's not as if you have any better ideas. Though the suddenly Lung-less ABB ought to be pretty desperate for parahuman muscle right about now, and it's not as if anyone important saw your mind-hands wielded by a white girl. There's an opportunity there, but it should probably wait until you've taken care of Lung permanently. ABB capes will be expected to take part in the rescue attempt, and you can't be in two places at once...

    Unless, that is, Oni Lee's power proves easy to learn, and you manage to twist it just right! No, that's a stupid risk to take. But perhaps- but you shouldn't- maybe Alec after all? You wrestle with terrible ideas for a while, but thankfully Lisa calls you up and drops a bunch of parahuman bullshit in your lap before you can admit you have a problem.

    As far as you can make it out: Aisha took Lisa's suggestion to heart and skipped town. She called Brian to inform him of this. Brian flipped his shit and demanded she come back, because his custody battle requires that she keep going to school like a good citizen. Aisha told him that you were going to kill her if she came back. Brian called Lisa and demanded that she rein you in. Lisa hates her life agreed to a cease-fire on your behalf, and arranged a meeting to negotiate a permanent truce.

    "There's nothing stopping you from just sending Bubbles to murder them instead, but please don't." Lisa sounds a bit tired, you think.

    "How much does Brian know?" you ask.

    "Brian knows you're Double D. Aisha knows not to tell him anything else."

    "Look at her, parahuman for less than a week and already saving lives. A true hero." Lisa snorts at that, knowing your definition of 'hero'. "They're both coming to the meeting?"

    "Yes."

    "Brian needs to not come to the meeting." You're going to have to discuss things he is not cleared to know about.

    "Believe me, I tried. 'I guarantee her safety,' I said. 'It's not as if you'd be able to protect her against the girl who took down Lung anyway,' I said. Do you think he fucking listened?"

    ---

    Lisa has once more found a convenient abandoned building for you to meet in (a different one than the one you fought Alec in, for whatever reason). You look around at the other people in the room.

    Aisha looks scared. Brian is trying to look intimidatingly large, but it ends up more 'worried and hovering' than 'implacable and looming'. Lisa looks like she needs a drink. You hope you look calm and scary - you really wish you didn't remember so much of what you said and did to Brian that night, because it's making it really hard to not blush every time you look in his direction.

    "Is there, uh, you know..." Aisha looks around nervously, and mimes something that is probably meant to be a pair of fangs, or possibly claws.

    "Yes," you say. "Vanishing would be extremely ill-advised."

    "Just making sure."

    "What are you talking about?" Brian asks.

    You sigh and roll your eyes. "This is why no one wanted him at this meeting."

    "Believe me, I tried," Aisha says.

    "If we could get down to business..." Lisa says.

    "Right. First rule of cape club: Identities are off limits. Isn't that right, Grue?"

    Brian/Grue stiffens at that, and shoots a glance at Lisa. "How did you-"

    "You're too tall to be Regent, and I'm pretty sure you're not Hellhound in drag." Aisha giggles at that, despite the tense situation. "That leaves only one option - let's not pretend as if Tattletale has any real friends."

    "Pot, meet kettle," Lisa says.

    "No one is going to out anyone," Aisha says quickly. She elbows Brian in the ribs when he doesn't immediately chime in. "Right?"

    "Right."

    "Good. I'm willing to let bygones be bygones, in exchange for three things." You turn to Aisha and hold up three fingers. "First, that you apologize to me."

    "Oh. Uh, yeah. I'm sorry."

    "For..." you prompt.

    "I'm sorry for risking your life with a stupid prank." Out of the corner of your eye you spot Lisa mouthing something. There may have been a certain amount of Thinker-powered coaching going on beforehand, but you're going to let that slide. "I'm sorry for abusing your trust."

    "Imagine if you had led with that the last time we met," you say dryly. "But it all worked out for the best, didn't it? Second, that you thank me for giving you powers."

    "You what!?" Brian exclaims. Wisps of darkness start seeping from his skin.

    "You didn't tell him?" you ask Aisha, incredulous.

    Aisha-

    Aisha is standing right there. You blink, having lost your train of thought. Which demand were you on again?

    "Don't do that," Lisa says.

    You look at the black mist coming from Grue. "Oh, are we using powers now?" you ask mildly. It's mostly a bluff, because you can't use non-dragon powers against him without leaking information. And you just discovered that his darkness blocks sorcerer's sight. He might actually be able to escape to tell others, if he reacts quickly enough.

    "Sorry. Happens on its own sometimes." The darkness vanishes. A power that by its very nature cannot be studied by you - your decision not to join the Undersiders is once more vindicated. No, focus on the meeting. You were about to make your second demand.

    You turn back to Aisha, holding up two fingers. "Second, that you thank me for-"

    "Yes, I know!" Aisha cuts you off. "Thanks for doing the thing that my brother doesn't need to know about!"

    "What?" Brian asks.

    "...I see," you say, looking between the siblings. So that's how it is? "Then he shouldn't hear about the third thing either."

    Aisha glances at Lisa, who shakes her head and makes the fang/claw gesture back at her. "Don't risk it," she says. You have no idea what they're talking about.

    "Okay," Aisha says brightly, before turning to her brother. "We don't you need you here anymore, you can go."

    When Brian doesn't immediately react to this, she starts pushing him towards the door. He resists only half-heartedly, which is how she's able to move him at all. "But-"

    "No buts! We're all friends now, and we're going to have a girl talk that my big lunkhead brother doesn't need to hear! Don't piss her off, she turns into a dragon. Isn't that right, Dee? We're all friends, and no one is going to get hurt."

    "No one is going to get hurt," you agree.

    "It's fine," Lisa says. "I know what she's going to ask."

    "I- fine. I'm trusting you here, Lisa." Brian pauses in the doorway, looking at you, but in the end he decides to leave without making any threats to the girl who defeated Lung.

    "Finally," Aisha says after the door closes behind him. "Okay, what's on third?"

    You contemplate the girl. Now that she's admitted that her soul's price was granted by you, she's sporting a bright, healthy Loyalty. "Third, you work for me now."

    "Oh." The Loyalty trembles slightly as she considers objecting to this, but before it can start to fray she remembers that the alternative is that you don't let bygones be bygones. "...do I get paid?"

    "Yes. Which reminds me-" you turn towards Lisa "-we need to talk about money."

    "In front of her?"

    You shrug. "She knows almost everything already, and is my loyal minion to boot."

    "Hey! Uh, I mean, yes I am. You can trust me. I won't snitch. About anything."

    You can't help but smile. Between fear and Loyalty, she'll make an excellent minion once she's had some training. Speaking of Loyalty, you just had an idea. You hold up a hand to forestall further conversation, and reach out for her soul's price a second time.

    Aisha wants to become respected and feared as a supervillain.

    "Huh," Lisa says, her power having told her what you were doing. "Wouldn't have expected that to work."

    "Hierarchy of needs, I guess. But I don't know if it's going to stack, or just refresh. Unless you have an idea?"

    "Sorry."

    Aisha is looking back and forth between you, confusion evident on her face. "This is where you go 'fucking Thinkers,'" you explain.

    "Oh."

    "By the way, your power. Can you exclude allies from the effect?"

    "I can barely keep it from turning on by itself," Aisha says bitterly.

    "It's strictly on/off, no selective targeting" Lisa says, with a hint of smugness at knowing more about a power than you.

    "Damn." Her power is impossible to study too. A coincidence, or... are they second-gen capes? Not to be a giant bitch about it, but her trigger event was a lot less traumatic than yours...

    You shake your head and return to the matter at hand. "In that case I need some shopping done."

    You write Aisha a shopping list and hand her some cash. After reading the list she sends a raised eyebrow your way, but you just wave her off.

    "A goddamn Tinker too?" you hear her muttering as she leaves.

    "Right, money," you say to Lisa. "I'm going to spend some of it on hiring the best information broker in the Bay."

    "What do you need?"

    "The time and route of Lung's Birdcage transport."

    Lisa laughs at that - she doesn't exactly need powers to figure out what you'd use that information for. "Knew you'd break the status quo sooner or later. I can do that. You'll have to pay me later though, the money's already en route to Number Man."

    "Number who?"

    "You haven't heard of Number Man? He's the banker of supervillains. How else were you going to launder that much money?"

    You were just going to dematerialize it and hide it in your mattress. "This Number Man, how often do his accounts get frozen by investigators?" The mattress might have been a better call.

    "Never."

    "Never?"

    "Never. It's the whole reason he's a household name."

    "But... every major government has a financial anti-Thinker task force." It's the reason someone like Lisa has to stoop to petty supercrime, instead of retiring to her own private island. Because giant corporations using the most expensive computer equipment on the planet to make six gorillion trades per second and turning the stock market into a circus completely divorced from reality is perfectly fine, but a private citizen using her magic brain to beat the market is haram.

    "Then there's regular law enforcement, and regular financial institutions, and goddamn D- hypothetically a rogue AI loose on the internet. And you - every Thinker villain would love to rip him off if they could. He's fighting a one man battle against all of those, and winning? Winning flawlessly? This doesn't worry you?"

    If he turns out to be Canadian, Narwhal is going to lose her spot.

    "...It didn't until you laid it out like that just now." Lisa rubs her chin and works her power. "I mean, it's not impossible that he's simply the strongest Thinker in the world, stronger than everyone else combined. There's precedent in other classifications."

    You nod. Legend among Blasters, Siberian among Brutes.

    "But it's more likely that he has backing," Lisa continues. "Like, a bunch of regular billionaires who don't think the Swiss banks are Thinker-hardened enough."

    "In either case, why in the world would he care about the tiny sums involved in parahuman crime?" you ask. But you've already figured out the answer by the time you reach the end of the sentence. You don't even need to peek on Lisa's power doing the same.

    "A plot for world domination," you say together.

    "At least that means I can trust him with my money," you add wryly. With one or more forces actively bent on world destruction, mere domination is not something you're going to lose sleep over.

    Besides, if the latter theory is true and he's backed by a shadowy cabal of international power-brokers and financiers... well, all he's doing then is keeping up the facade of the comic book world. And despite a couple of rough patches, the comic book world is undeniably your element. The more people think it's a comic book, the fewer think it's a spy thriller.

    If the former theory is true, that's fine too. Democracy had a good run, but if the demonstrably smartest person on Earth wants to have a go at running things instead, you're willing to give him a shot. He'd have to try pretty hard to mess things up worse.

    "Speaking of which, he needs to know how you want it."

    "Uh, still in dollars?"

    "No, I mean, in a private account? Or a company? A non-profit organization? The Number Man can hook you up."

    Now that you think about it, a specific kind of company would be really helpful for hiding your biggest expense, wouldn't it? "Does he do identities? I could use a driver's license..."

    ---

    Some time after Lisa leaves, Aisha comes back with your purchases. "Okay, I'm dying over here," she announces. "Why do you need to put up an electric fence?"

    "You'll see. Gonna tinker a bit, in the meantime you have homework." You hand her sheet of paper where you've written out the English alphabet. Below each letter is a symbol not found in any language on Earth. "This is the cipher we're going to use. Study it. Practice reading and writing it." The symbols are the nearest phonetic equivalent in the language that came with sorcerer's sight, because why make things more difficult than they have to be? You've also added the numbers 0-9, which have direct equivalents (the Thinker language, being base 25 for some reason, has considerably more numbers than that - but you feel that's a bit above Aisha's pay grade).

    "Got it all figured out, huh?"

    "Yes."

    ---

    "Right, listen carefully," you tell Aisha.

    "Lay it on me, D." Out of all possible forms of address, she chooses the one that specifically reminds you of the incident where your tits ended up on the internet. No, the other one. The one everyone knows about, that was her fault. Because apparently neither credible death threats nor supernatural loyalty is going to prevent this girl from testing boundaries.

    "We need a way to communicate while your power is active. You're going to write me notes in the cipher, and I'm going to train myself to implicitly trust ciphered notes that appear from nowhere, that I have no idea who wrote."

    "Uh-"

    "I'm aware of the irony here, yes. This requires an equal commitment on your part. If the notes ever betray me in any way, you better pray that it kills me and Fenrir both. Because if either of us survive, you will die screaming."

    Aisha takes a step back at your vehemence, holding her arms up in surrender. "I can do trustworthy."

    "I know," you say. Her Loyalty is right there. "It's 'reliable' I'm worried about."

    "...that's fair."

    "This is my training rig." You gesture to the device on the table. Six loops of wire extend from the central unit, which is comprised of a car battery, the transformer for an electric fence and a mess of miscellaneous circuitry and wires tying it all together. "Five of the wires carry electricity, one is safe to touch."

    You hold up a wireless earbud, then insert it into your ear. "When I hit this button, the safe wire is randomized. The earbud tells me which one it is. Like so." You hit the button. "Two," your recorded voice says in your ear. You touch the second wire, and nothing happens. "See?"

    "Okay..?"

    "Touching the wrong wire- gah!" You wince as your arm absorbs enough voltage to deter an animal twenty times your size. "Touching the wrong wire fucking sucks."

    "No shit."

    "You're going to wear the earbud and use your power. I'm going to push the button, and you'll give me a note indicating the safe wire. We'll repeat that until I learn to trust the notes implicitly."

    You then proceed to give her seven pieces of paper, and explain the purpose of the seventh.

    "Wow. Better you than me."

    You hand her the earbud, and

    You have no idea why you built this. There are instructions on the table next to it, written by you (not only are they written in a language only you know, you remember writing them). But the instructions make no sense. Which is probably why the last line of the instructions reads 'I know these instructions make no sense, but I should follow them anyway. Cape reasons.'

    You scratch your head as you ponder the situation. There's obviously something wrong with your brain, but you can't tell whether it's made you write something crazy, or forget something important. With your brain compromised, can you trust anything-

    "You weren't hitting the button," Aisha says. Oh. Oh right.

    "I need better instructions for myself. Hang on." You scribble an addendum, then nod to her. "Let's go again."

    You have no idea why you built this. There are instructions on the table next to it, written by you (not only are they written in a language only you know, you remember writing them). But the instructions make no sense. Which is probably why the last line of the instructions reads 'I know these instructions make no sense, but I should follow them anyway. Cape reasons. Fenrir knows what's going on.'

    "Do you know what's going on?" you ask Fenrir. Fenrir nods. "Should I follow the instructions?" Another nod. Okay. Things don't make any sense, but you trust Fenrir.

    You hit the button. You wait. A note appears in your hand. It says '5'. You touch the fifth wire. You are not shocked. You hit the button again. You trust the note. You are not shocked.

    This happens a third time, then a fourth and a fifth. The instructions say to treat every sixth note differently. The sixth note reads '1'.

    "I am not going to trust this note," you announce. You touch the second wire instead, and get electrocuted. Gritting your teeth, you touch the third. The fourth. The fifth. The sixth. After five consecutive shocks, your entire arm feels like it's burning. A note appears in your other hand. You struggle a bit with the unfamiliar phonetic cipher, but you eventually make out that it reads 'You should have trusted the notes, Taylor.'

    You hit the button again.

    ---

    You can't really move your arm anymore. You have to lean over and let it flop onto each wire in turn. You glance at the note. You should have trusted the notes, Taylor. Yeah, you know.

    "I think we should stop, boss," Aisha says. Oh. Oh right.

    "No. I haven't refused to distrust the notes yet. Get back in hiding."

    Note to self, never ever disobey an order from Taylor. If this is what she does to herself...
     
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