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It's been brought up. Hell I broached the subject of Taylor using her powers to have some adult fun with Lily.
Cool, but besides that it hasn't really been explored that much like what would such a relationship look like with Lily being on the PRT/Protectorate's side in regards to the whole get Taylor on board thing.

And as for the adult fun portion I imagine that Lily can make objects that Taylor can't phase through.
 
.

And as for the adult fun portion I imagine that Lily can make objects that Taylor can't phase through.

Sounds dangerous and likely to get embarrassing questions asked like " why there is a hole from your bed room floor all the way through the basement sub level floor and why is it dildo shaped?"
 
Sounds dangerous and likely to get embarrassing questions asked like " why there is a hole from your bed room floor all the way through the basement sub level floor and why is it dildo shaped?"
Or the most serious question "…and why there's a bloody corpse under your sheets?"
 
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Omake: Just a Butcher
Just a Butcher


Two nearly identical figures stood facing each other with the only differences between the two being the look in their eyes and choice of clothing. On one side the young woman stood clad in red and grey armor with a look in her eyes of someone who has recently claimed victory, and the other side stood the same young woman but clad in a less elaborate outfit of all grey holding a look of pure defiance towards the world.

It was the one in the armor who spoke first, "So you're what an alternate version of me then come in to say hi or something."

"Pretty much that, but its not that big of a deal, in fact I did something rather similar with a different version of myself, err ourselfs not that long ago it was a rather pleasant conversation all things considered," the dopple ganger admitted.

The armor clad one considered her alternate's statement for a second, "Fair enough I guess not the weirdest thing that's happened to me all things considered but it is up there. So what do we do from here paint each other's nails, braid hair, talk about each other's crush, because let me tell you sister I have a lot to talk about in that department."

The other girl shrugged in response, "Talk I guess thats what me and Pisces did, thats what the other Taylor was called by the way in case you were wondering, besides that we more or less just complained about the Protectorate or the PRT the whole time."

The amored one let out a laugh, "Now that I can do, but before we continue what should I call you because just calling you Taylor is going to get confusing real fast."

"Just call me Ghost its certainly better than the name the Protectorate is trying to give me," the newly identified Ghost informed her counter part.

"Not bad simple but whatever works for you, and as for me you can call me Weaver. And now with that out of the way lets get on to the fun part, whats your story how did you end up as 'Ghost'," Weaver questioned.

"Well it started with The Locker," upon saying that both teens involuntarily shuddered, "what you too, never mind well during that I got powers same as you and ended up passing right through the door infront of Emma and Sophia. Next thing I know I am in the hospital being given a recruitment pitch by Miss Militia and being half out of my mind on drugs I agreed, too. Deciding to make the most of a bad situation I thought I would try and make the most of a bad situation because the Wards couldn't be as bad as I feared they would, but unfortunately I can't have nice things and guess who was waiting for me the moment I walked through the door? Emma and Sophia both. So I made my way out of there as fast I fucking could, but do to the Director being an utter bitch and unwilling to punish those two psychopaths I ended up being shipped off to Boston despite all my protests while Emma gets off scot fucking free for what she did." By the end of Ghost's story she was snarling and clearly worked up into a rage by what happened.

"Well damn that fucking sucks girl makes me almost thankful about the month I spent in the psych ward after getting my powers at least I didn't have to deal with the Protectorate's brand of press ganging new parahumans," Weaver sympathized with her other self.

"Wait so your not a Ward, I assumed because the last version of myself I talked to was in a similar situation."

"Girl do you really think the guys who run their PR department would let a Ward out dressed like this," she said while gesturing at her very intimidating costume, most notably the XV marking on the chest.

Ghost's eyes widen slightly upon looking at the XV symbol adorning her counter part, "Wait you're the..."

"Yep, but trust me I am mostly sane despite what my enemies in the PRT like to claim something to do with power interactions being all wonky and leaving me in charge and the others along for the ride. But yeah I get you the PRT are the fucking worst back when I was trying to be a hero they set up a meeting on truce terms and then promptly double crossed me and attempted to send me to the Birdcage without trial all because the idea of a sane heroic Butcher was inconceivable to them, and they wonder why I returned to the Teeth," Weaver said.

"So you're a villain then?"

"More of a morally black superhero if you ask me not that most people can tell the difference, but enough about me, let's talk about you. Besides I am a bit curious on how the Wards thing is doing judging by the look of your costume, did the Boston department have some budget cuts or something."

"Ha they wish, no I am simply refusing to play their little song and dance and decided to do my own thing because like hell will I work for the organization that enabled Emma and Sophia for two years. Besides its not like they can actually force me to do anything because according to their own rule book all Wards activities can only be performed if the Ward in question has undergone official power testing which according to their own charter is completely voluntary," Ghost said while growing more at ease with her counter part despite the revealation about her status as the Butcher.

"Wait so you're using the PRT's own shitty rule book against them in order to spite them, my god Lisa will fucking love you once she hears about this, Lisa's a friend by the way blond, green eyes, lots of freckles, and one hell of a smart ass thinker."

"Think I have seen who you're talking about not that long ago, she was in a tour group of the Wards base got a front row seat to me airing a few grievances to the adoring public."

"Forget loving you; you're probably her favorite person in that universe unless she is already hanging out with Amy in that universe. Also if you don't mind me asking, what your power because Stratego has been complaining nonstop about blind spots since meeting you."

"So thats what that was... But as for powers I can move through things, danger sense, bit of clairvoyance, and thinker powers just don't work on me not that the Protectorate has given up trying."

"Wait so you insulted the government in front of the public, are currently screwing over the PRT, and thinker powers don't work on you jesus how has Lisa met you and not asked you to marry her yet you check literally all her boxes."

"I don't know I only saw her the once when she tried to use her power on me during the tour. But thats enough of me complaining you probably have it worse being the Butcher and all."

Weaver smiled at her alternate's question, "Actually no once you get past the others' insanity, bloodlust, demands for food, alcohol, drugs, and sex the previous Butchers are actually quite fun to talk with; hell, Fester even dated mom for a bit. Plus with the ABB gone, and the Empire either dead or in a cell things are looking up for the city dad's even okay with the whole running a gang thing despite my initial thoughts, and to top it off I even got a girlfriend our of the deal."

Ghost simply stood silently for a moment before responding, "Wait so your telling me that despite being the Butcher and having 14 crazy people in your head your life is for all intents and purposes looking bright, and not only that your version of dad is aware of your powers and okay with the fact that your the Butcher. What the actual HELL what is with alternate versions of me having more understanding and supportive versions of dad than me first Pisces and now you where's my version of dad who will stand up for me and not let the PRT walk all over him."

Weaver winced at Ghost's outburst, "Sorry didn't mean to poke a wound like that, but I am sure your situation will get better eventually the PRT won't keep you forever if you won't playball at least they have to cut their losses eventually. As for your dad I really don't know what to say to that besides just try not to dwell on it to much."

Weaver would have said more but as she was about to continue Ghost began to shimmer as her form became more translucent.

"Ah crap I guess my time is up here, for what its worth it was nice meeting you Taylor you seem to be doing better than me at least," Ghost said to her alternate.

"And to you as well Taylor hope things work out for you in the end just hold out for a bit more, or if all else fails do what I do 'be gay and do crime' its done wonders for me," Weaver said as her alternate finally faded from view.

A.N.: something based on an omake from the Implacable thread can also be found on both Inheritance threads.

Edit: any thoughts or opinions?
 
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Loophole 2.6
2.6

(Wednesday, February 9 2011)

Note to self: before getting blown up, make sure the next day isn't a school day.

Still, even as I fell face-down and groaned into my bed after surviving another day at school, I couldn't help but smile. Last night I had successfully fought off two supervillains, and then managed to keep them occupied long enough for the PRT to capture them. Except for the whole 'getting exploded' incident, I had managed to use my power to more or less avoid all of Snap and Split's tricks.

Granted, I hadn't performed perfectly. Split had demonstrated that even after figuring out how to phase my taser through an opponent's armor, I still had to be able to land a hit. My fumbling with her little army of clones had made it very clear that I needed some sort of hand-to-hand training, or at least to work on my reflexes.

And my rather violent power interaction with Snap taught me something even more important — distractions could be deadly. My precog sense gave me more than enough time, as long as I didn't lock up in surprise that I had just cut someone's arm off. I would need to practice just reflexively phasing through effects that I didn't immediately recognize as benevolent.

It did not escape my consideration that, without teammates, I should assume anything that pinged my power sense was enemy action.

I fought down a whimper as I tried to push myself up on the bed, but with my significantly more sore left arm (which I had probably landed on last night), I only managed to roll over. An earlier check of the rules concerning searches of bedrooms for those Wards who lived on base had revealed that they needed a good cause and gave prior warning, which gave me clearance to start keeping a notebook of my heroic adventures.

Once I was able to pry myself up and into my chair, I spared the PRT a single grateful thought for providing such comfortable furniture. Actually putting my ideas on the page relieved a pressure in my brain that had been building since I sat down in my math class this morning, as hardly a moment had gone past today that I wasn't thinking about the fight or how I could have done things better.

In fact, school had almost been fun. The loneliness hadn't been quite so strangulating with something much more exciting to occupy my brain.

As usual, the PRT ruined my otherwise mostly good day by scheduling another tour block this afternoon. I exchanged my glasses for contacts and a domino mask before grabbing tonight's homework and shuffling towards the common area. This time, Roulette and Reynard had replaced Flechette and Hunch, with the fox-garbed boy at the console. Weld and Valve were here too; the latter was tinkering away with a small smile on her lips.

"English again?" the Tinker asked as I walked past her work table, though she didn't look up.

"Sure," I replied. "Though I didn't think you would be here."

She tapped her device with a screwdriver. "Tours don't count towards Tinkering time restrictions." Valve finally tilted her head up to meet my eyes. "You're not the only one who uses rules creatively."

I had to admit, that was pretty clever. "Ok, well, come find me." She hummed in what was probably acknowledgement, leaving me to shuffle over to the big comfy chair in the corner of the common room and claim it as my own space.

Even off by myself and without Lily to pester me, I didn't get much of my chemistry homework done. Instead, I was writing notes to myself in the back of my notebook about how I would fight various parahumans or various ideas for an actual costume. Pretending to be a ghost in my grey costume was far from ideal, and while I liked the name, I could definitely do with something more heroic-looking.

The mask-up buzzer came and went, signaling the first tour, and just like yesterday Weld had a script and stuck to it. Sitting in the corner was a better conversation deterrent than I expected — although some of that was likely the tour guides steering the questions away from me — and I was able to get through the majority of the visitors with relatively little interaction.

Unfortunately, about halfway through the allotted time, Roulette apparently decided that I was being too antisocial for her tastes. She must have suspected that I would resist normal efforts to chat more than was strictly necessary, because she motioned the rest of the tour group closer to the corner. It was then that I discovered, to my moderate horror, that I recognized several of the teenagers in this group as my classmates.

"So, what's your power?" one of those familiar teenagers asked.

"It's a secret until my official debut." My pre-prepared answer seemed to placate them as usual, but Roulette was quick to express her displeasure.

"Her power is so cool," the other Ward said in a mock-whisper. "Come on, Phase. At least give them a hint!"

I stared dumbly at Roulette while I tried to figure out what the hell she was doing, but after a few seconds of thinking, I came up blank. Thankfully, Weld was more on the ball than me. "Actually, Phase is right. We're not supposed to say anything until she's officially announced."

"That's no fun!" Roulette complained.

One of the other teenagers asked the obvious question. "When is your debut?"

"We're still working on scheduling," Weld said smoothly, definitely unwilling to let me offer my own barbed rejoinder. "There's a lot of planning that goes into revealing a new Ward."

While Weld explained and answered more questions about power testing, meeting PR, picking a costume, and so on, I slowly inched back towards my chair. Roulette's eyes would occasionally flick towards me, but she got swept into explaining her most recent costume alterations and thus couldn't do anything else weird.

Given the public relations nightmare that yesterday's tour had become, I considered Weld's intense aversion towards forcibly including me in conversation a significant victory. My comments about being signed up against my will and power testing had spread like wildfire on PHO for all that the PRT had apparently threatened legal action for releasing the videos online. The PR department had even gone as far to retroactively invent a whole new rule for me: banning recording devices in the Wards common area due to 'security concerns.'

The security of their ass covers, obviously.

Still, even without video, my 'Unannounced Ward' thread made it to nearly eighty pages of speculation and commentary on my situation before the mods locked it. Unmistakable PRT shills had bombarded the thread, doing their best to shout the importance of 'safety' and 'training' while leaving unsubtle comments about the statistics surrounding teenaged vigilantes. They downplayed my comments as 'teenaged malcontent' (likely an intern who forgot to rephrase the instructions from PR) and tried to imply that my issues were due to the Protectorate helping me escape a bad situation.

Their underhanded attempts to seize the moral high ground might have irritated me had I not visited some of the less-traveled websites and discovered something far more amusing — my trick of refusing power testing was being shared quietly among the vigilante communities. Basically all of the independent heroes and villains that frequented those sites had reasons to avoid the PRT — otherwise they would just join the Wards or Protectorate — and my trick had enjoyed enthusiastic, if quiet, reception.

I was sure Jim's colleagues would appreciate the opportunity to use that rule, but at the same time I hoped that this didn't come back to bite me in the butt before I graduated.

An eternity later, the visitors had their fill of pointless Ward facts and left us alone. The door had barely shut when Roulette jumped off of the couch and stalked over to me, clearly displeased. "Phase, you're not seriously going to dodge every question about your power, right?" Then she turned her glare on Weld. "And I don't remember any rule about having to be announced!"

Weld sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Gauss instructed us to keep Phase's details quiet, which you would have known had you read the notes on the calendar event."

"Yeah, but Phase could say something. Why keep her power a secret?"

"Because it's not our prerogative to reveal them," the Ward captain replied.

Roulette crossed her arms. "There's no harm in asking. And it's not like telling the gawkers counts as power testing."

"That's not the point," Weld said.

"It kind of is," Roulette retorted. "What's the point of her being here if she's not going to ever go through official power testing and become a Ward? Why not just become a vigilante?"

I didn't miss the side-eyed glances the diminutive Ward was shooting my way, even through her mask, nor did I miss the slight emphasis on 'official' and 'vigilante.' Weld opened and closed his mouth a few times before giving up on crafting a reply. "Phase?"

"I don't want to be a Ward," I bit out, ignoring Weld's concerned look. "I said that on my first day."

"And stop talking about Phase like she isn't literally right here," Valve interjected. She had spun around in her chair to glare at Roulette.

"She screws up my power!" Roulette said, waving an angry finger in my direction. "Which would be fine, I guess, if she was actually on the team, but —"

Weld interjected, raising his voice in a rare display of anger. "Ladies, please. Let's change topics to something else."

Valve went back to her Tinkering with a muttered, "Lord, what fools these mortals be." Roulette shrugged, gave me a strange look, and walked back to the couch. She flopped down onto it and pulled out her phone, already engrossed in something other than me. Weld, on the other hand, almost seemed to want to come over and keep discussing before thinking better of it.

In that moment, I envied Reynard — he completely ignored the argument, and I somehow doubted that the console had held his attention the entire time.

Two more tours came and went without issue. Roulette didn't try to get me to talk about my powers and I didn't recognize anyone else, so they were marginally better than the prior tour. Even with the intermittent ogling, I was able to get a lot of my homework finished, though Valve was so engrossed in her Tinkering that we never did the English assignment.

As I was gathering my materials to relocate to my room, my phone dinged with another message. Curious, I fished the device out of my pocket, only to discover that a new time commitment had been added to my schedule. It was marked as a 'team building exercise,' and I was fairly certain that Jim and I had ruled out all of those activities when we last spoke.

Shit, Armstrong must have discovered another loophole.

Then I checked the event details and my lips curled into a smile. "Hey Weld."

My voice immediately grabbed the attention of the other Wards, and the captain said, "Yes?"

"What's this about a group movie night?" I said, gesturing to my phone. "Isn't that kind of risky, doing this sort of thing in public? Not to mention the fact that you and Hunch can't come with us."

A grimace passed over Weld's face almost too fast for me to see. "Well, as much as we would like to go, we figured that some group bonding away from HQ was more important."

The implication was obvious: with the 'success' of the tour events, clearly what I needed was more time together with the Wards. "I see. Unfortunately…" I dragged the word out, much to Weld's displeasure. Valve, perhaps predictably, just rolled her eyes, and Reynard tilted his head slightly. "We have a movie theatre on base for this sort of thing. You and Hunch can come, then, and I won't get outed because I'm suddenly hanging out with random people after school."

"That's sort of the point…" Weld said, but he trailed off. "I don't suppose there's a rule to this effect?"

"Yeah, but it's not a big deal," I replied.

Roulette, however, wasn't so deterred. "We can still go get dinner beforehand and come back, so it's fine!"

"Same issue," I retorted. I picked up my books and walked towards the door, passing an obviously conflicted Weld. Valve had also started packing up — probably to avoid Tinker time penalties — and caught me before I could go.

"Can I drop by after putting this stuff back in my lab?" she asked, gesturing at her pile of parts. My single nod was met with a half-smile, and I was finally free to retreat to my room.

---​

A short message to Gauss (and an even shorter reply) made sure that movie night would be relocated to the base, which meant I would be able to simply show up right before the scheduled time and leave immediately after the movie finished. Even had I felt bad about the sudden reorganization, I had enough trouble keeping my identity secret that intentionally throwing fuel onto that fire seemed like a bad idea. My classmates had already shown up for a tour; the last thing I needed was pictures showing up on the internet.

Connie showed up about an hour after the tour ended, English notebook in hand. The scrawny Tinker was not much for small talk, which I appreciated. In fact, even in our short time interacting with each other, she had never so much as broached a topic other than her Tinker projects or the homework we were working on. Whether she was naturally shy or realized that I would prefer to just do the assignment, I probably wouldn't know, but either way I wasn't complaining.

Unfortunately, as soon as we had completed our essays and swapped to proofread, Lily knocked on the door. "Taylor — oh, hey Connie," she said, getting a raised eyebrow from me and a half-wave from the Tinker. "I can come back."

"We're done," Connie said, picking up her stuff. "Thanks, Taylor."

"No problem," I said, and Connie left without further ado. Lily stood aside to let her through the door, then stepped in and shut it behind her. "Taylor, what the hell?"

"What what the hell?" I asked.

"Last night!" Lily hissed. "You got into a fight that totally wrecked a store!"

"That was Snap!" I retorted hotly. "His explosions —"

Lily cut me off with a sharp hand gesture. "Taylor, you were the hero there. It's your job to keep collateral damage to a minimum, because it's not like the villains have anything to lose by destroying more stuff."

I crossed my arms and glared at the other girl. "I captured them."

"The PRT captured them," she corrected, then steamrolled over my objection. "With your help, sure, but I sincerely doubt you had a way to keep them contained without foam."

A few ideas went through my head, such as phasing parts of their bodies into the ground, but I certainly wasn't going to share those with Lily. "What's your point? That was my first actual cape battle, so it's not like I had any idea about how to do things."

"That is my point," Lily said. "Taylor, please, let me help you before you get hurt. Or, more hurt — I've been caught in an explosion before, and I know the signs of someone who is sore all over."

"I'm fine," I bit out. "I just need practice."

Lily growled in what took me a second to recognize as frustration. "Look, I've been doing this a lot longer than you. Can you at least sit there and let me explain some stuff that might save your life? That way, even if you don't pay attention, I can at least say that I tried before you did something stupid?"

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" I muttered.

"No. Taylor, you have a lot of good reasons to be angry at the PRT. But please, for the love of god, don't get yourself killed because you're too stubborn to take advice." Lily's voice was pleading by the end and the edges of her eyes were slightly red. Did she really care that much? What had I ever done to her to warrant this level of concern?

More importantly, would she go to Armstrong if I refused?

"Fine," I said. "But not tonight. I want to lay down and get off of my aching legs."

"Sure," she said, obviously relieved. "I'll hold you to this. Goodnight, Taylor."

"G'night," I replied.

Once Lily was finally out of my room, I came to the conclusion that no more homework was getting done tonight. My head was too filled with thoughts of Nebula's piercing gaze and Lily's pleading offer; interestingly, I didn't feel as though I needed to run away anymore. Or at least, not because I was trapped by the Protectorate.

My patrols had shown that I wasn't trapped. I could leave whenever I wanted, in fact, but until I could figure out a solution to the whole 'sustainable income' problem, I was actually better off pretending to be a Ward. The tours were less onerous than I was expecting and hopefully this little debacle with the movie night would get Weld, Gauss, and Armstrong off my back for a while.

I changed into pajamas and grabbed my phone before curling into my blankets, making sure I could use both hands. There was one activity I could do even if my head felt too full of bees to function properly, and while it was easier on my desktop computer, I could fill out the forms perfectly well on my phone.

A flick of my thumb brought up some of the historical footage from PHO of the Brockton Bay Wards getting into fights with the local gangs. Time to make sure their Youth Guard rep was aware of their escapades.
 
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"Everybody who knows is worried I'll get myself, or others killed!"

Taylor's response.

"So, how can I use this to get the BB Wards in trouble?"


Boy, she's still angry. Taylor being stubborn, yep, yep.
 
Oh that PHO thread must have been a doozy. Taylor really needs to keep igniting that particular fire because it'd be fun and effective.

There's comments to be made about Lily's concern in this chapter, but I think we might be a few chapters off from a good teasing of Taylor for not letting a pretty girl into her room.
 
Oh that PHO thread must have been a doozy. Taylor really needs to keep igniting that particular fire because it'd be fun and effective.

There's comments to be made about Lily's concern in this chapter, but I think we might be a few chapters off from a good teasing of Taylor for not letting a pretty girl into her room.

I really don't get the sense that this is a romance story, nor that there's any reason to believe Taylor is romantically interested in Lily in any manner.

Good chapter though, it's nice to see our traumatized protagonist upbeat for once.
 
"It kind of is," Roulette retorted. "What's the point of her being here if she's not going to ever go through official power testing and become a Ward? Why not just become a vigilante?"

"The only reason I'm here is my father basically sold me to you. I hate everything about this place, but I have nowhere else to go and this is marginally better than living on the streets."
 
Just occurred to me, she ought to start filing formal requests to be removed from the program. Literally just an official request to quit, that they can rubber stamp rejected. Will it do anything outright? Nope. She has no leverage legal or otherwise.

But lets say she drops one off every time she visits? At some point, someone is going to notice she had made hundreds of requests to quit, and It's very hard to explain why you have literally hundreds of rejected official requests, and not look like they were not doing their job to fix the problem.

Loopholes are grand, but sometimes persistence can create a new opening that wasn't already there. Heck, she's already in the system, she probably could generate a massive amount of paperwork if she put her mind to it.
 
But lets say she drops one off every time she visits? At some point, someone is going to notice she had made hundreds of requests to quit, and It's very hard to explain why you have literally hundreds of rejected official requests, and not look like they were not doing their job to fix the problem.
Simple, because if asked what her issues are that makes her want to quit, she'll tell them and they can't do anything about it.
They have been reasonably accommodating in Boston.
 
Just occurred to me, she ought to start filing formal requests to be removed from the program. Literally just an official request to quit, that they can rubber stamp rejected. Will it do anything outright? Nope. She has no leverage legal or otherwise.

But lets say she drops one off every time she visits? At some point, someone is going to notice she had made hundreds of requests to quit, and It's very hard to explain why you have literally hundreds of rejected official requests, and not look like they were not doing their job to fix the problem.

Loopholes are grand, but sometimes persistence can create a new opening that wasn't already there. Heck, she's already in the system, she probably could generate a massive amount of paperwork if she put her mind to it.
Because the PRT is playing the "can't comment on an ongoing investigation" shell game while they sit on the investigation. Hence why they're painting Taylor as a "teenage malcontent" instead of a victim of an officially sanctioned torture campaign and murder attempt.

Which, again, is why Taylor needs to blow the doors off, give the PRT a double bird, and cause as much reputation wrecking havoc as possible, because fuck them, their narrative, and their status quo.
 
Simple, because if asked what her issues are that makes her want to quit, she'll tell them and they can't do anything about it.
They have been reasonably accommodating in Boston.
It would also be reasonable to accept her situation, and try to move forward knowing this group of people are almost completely unrelated to the ones who were in large part still only tangentially responsible for what happened to her. That would probably be a boring story. I'm not her for reasonable, I'm here for malicious compliance.

Edit:
Because the PRT is playing the "can't comment on an ongoing investigation" shell game while they sit on the investigation. Hence why they're painting Taylor as a "teenage malcontent" instead of a victim of an officially sanctioned torture campaign and murder attempt.

Which, again, is why Taylor needs to blow the doors off, give the PRT a double bird, and cause as much reputation wrecking havoc as possible, because fuck them, their narrative, and their status quo.
All of this. I just want a progressive escalation of arms.
PRT [Public Relations]: We can take her.
 
Simple, because if asked what her issues are that makes her want to quit, she'll tell them and they can't do anything about it.
They have been reasonably accommodating in Boston.
I mean sure they've been actually reasonably accommodating, but generating paperwork is it's own means. She's *told* them that she doesn't want to be a ward, and even them proving it for the first hundred only makes them look more shady when they have to say it all again for the second hundred, and the third, and so on and so on. And even if they're being reasonably accomodating, it could still be equivacal to a prison forcing a prisoner (literally, not just through "soft" means) to work in the boiler room without providing water.

Even if that would generate about the same level of apathy in beaurocratic officials
 
All of this. I just want a progressive escalation of arms.
PRT [Public Relations]: We can take her.
For the life of me, I don't know why, but worm writers seem either habitually incapable or totally unwilling the actually having the PRT taking his to it's image or legitimacy in any way that actually matters or sticks. Instead we get story retreds that spin their wheels on the same storylines, just with different names and the series numbers filed off.
 
Omake: A Friend In Me
Nice chapter! Love to see the obvious cracks forming in the team due to Taylor being there. Her weaponizing PHO to further inconvenience the BB Wards is hilarious.

And if that's not a call to post this, I don't know what is. This is an Omake that has been tumbling around my head since shortly after the story started, and it's only now that I finally broke down and put word to virtual paper.

Special thanks to FirstSelector for answering some questions I had for specific details, and for making some suggestions that helped make the Omake better.

Do please lemme know what you lot think of the Omake, and without further ado.

A Friend In Me

=][=​
Alex did what he could not to stare at the new girl.

Objectively, other than shampoo commercial worthy hair, she wasn't much to look at. A late transfer from a dumpster fire city, there was a small amount of talk about her, some even wondered if maybe she was a Ward transferring in from said city.

Her…acerbic personality had put those rumors down quickly and painfully.

Anyone that so much as smiled at the girl got her hackles up and her claws out. Compliments and well meaning questions were met with sneers and open hostility. On the reverse, if she was left alone she was more than content enough to ignore and be ignored.

No, there certainly wasn't much there to look at, not until one paid attention to the details.

She was tall for a girl, five eight at least, but walked with her back bent and her shoulders hunched, as if trying to shrink into herself or readying herself for a blow. She wore oversized hoodies and jeans exclusively, her clothes large enough to completely swallow her figure; they were also cheap, not bargain-bin ratty, but not far from it, easy to replace.

She did not use makeup, granted Alex was utterly ignorant of the arcana that was makeup and its application, he knew only that it was a bunch of different powders and it could take a girl from a six all the way to an eight through its eldritch, indefatigable application.

From what little he had seen of Taylor, she was a solid five, fix her posture, add in her hair falling in a dark curly waterfall, a confident strut to her walk, a better wardrobe, and a smile, and she could easily be a seven, maybe an eight depending on the figure she kept hidden.

Unfortunately Taylor seemed to only have two expressions, 'unfeeling automaton' and 'sneer.'

All things combined to a person that was, on the surface, very hateful.

The thing being, Alex had seen some very similar symptoms before. Except that when it happened to his sister, he had been more than happy to kick teeth in until those bullying her learned that she was off limits.

Was this how Anna might have ended up if he hadn't been around to help? He could picture it, and the mental image made him angry, his sister was a little cinnamon bun that brightened any room she walked into, maybe this girl had been the same.
So Alex decided this girl needed a friend. And he had nothing better to do. But he wouldn't do it stupid.

Information was the name of the game.

He spent two days gathering intel, through that information gathering, he learned two things, the first, Taylor liked to read, the second, she had complete immunity to Lily's weapon's grade pout. This made her a formidable foe, Lily was the darling of the writing club, out of everyone, the only one who'd had the heart to properly critique her capefic had been Alex, and that only because her pout had nothing on Anna's.

If Taylor could withstand it and keep an emotionless face? This might well be more difficult than he'd first expected. Still, not impossible. Lily's utterly failed attempt did, however, inform him how to go about his own, and just like getting an abused dog to allow you to touch it, the first step was to make her comfortable with his presence.

So, on Wednesday January the 19th, Alex launched his Master Plan. He walked to the table the new girl sat at, plopped down his food on the opposite side from her at the opposite corner of the table, pulled out Only in Death, and read as he ate. He could feel Taylor's glare on him and briefly wondered if she was a Parahuman with laser eyes.

He ignored her, reading and eating, and after a good forty interminable seconds, he felt her glare vanish. He continued to read and eat as if he hadn't noticed but kept her in his peripheral vision.

The very instant the girl was finished eating, she stood up and left, Alex said nothing, didn't so much as look up from his book. One of the best conversations he never had, eight out of ten.

When he left school that day, he had the happy surprise of seeing that they shared a route for part of his walk home. He repeated his strategy from lunch, merely walking in the same general area as the girl as he made his way to the bus stop. Her shoulders were hunched, and he caught her glancing at him over her shoulder a few times, but when the bus stop came along, he stopped there and pulled his book whereas she kept power walking.

He shared two classes with the girl, and thankfully the school did not have enforced seating. So he switched things up and sat within three chairs of Taylor, then repeated his strategy of the last day with the same results.

On Friday however, things changed.

He sat at the same spot on the cafeteria, but she did not glare, she merely ignored him. On the walk to the bus stop, she still threw him a glance or two, but did not quicken her step, rather she merely kept an eye on him.

So, come Monday, he sat within two chairs of Taylor in their two classes, and come lunch he sat a little closer to her in the cafeteria. She gave him another look, but this one only lasted twenty seconds. And on the way to the bus stop he walked a little closer to her, not arms length, but still closer. She still gave him looks, and he continued to ignore them.

By the time Thursday came about, Alex had managed to sneak seven entire inches closer to her at the cafeteria, though he still judged it too soon to sit next to her during class.

On the way to the bus stop he was almost within speaking distance of Taylor, perhaps next week he'd be able to walk side by side to her. But that's when it happened, Weld and Reynard were walking on the other side of the street, and Taylor froze.

To stop now might well doom his entire effort, so he walked around her and kept on his way, risking a quick look over his shoulder at her.

Alex had been right; she really had a very expressive face.

She was smiling, but it was not a nice smile. It was angry, vindictive, devious and self satisfied. It was the smile of the cat that got the canary. Alex honestly could not fathom why she would have that smile toward the two apprentice heroes.

Yeah, Reynard's costume was kinda meh. But for that smile to come about?

Alex could not spend much time thinking about this, and as such he continued on his way to the bus stop.

Friday Taylor was in decidedly good spirits. Every now and then, when she forgot to keep her emotionless mask on, a self-satisfied little smirk quirked her lips. It was kinda cute, but most people weren't looking anymore so just about everyone missed it.

Alex decided to keep on steady rather than try to ride the coattails of her good mood, she was still wary around him, and if he pushed, she may well bolt like a particularly skittish horse and he'd lose all progress.

She seemed stuck in her own little world, looking at a long document on her phone, she didn't even glare at him she was so distracted.

The next week went by much the same, Alex was able to get almost a whole foot closer on the table, and he had migrated to sitting next to Taylor in their two classes. But there was something up, she was fidgety, full of nervous energy, though nonetheless happy, happier than he'd seen her so far, which considering it was Taylor, this amounted to being close to neutral, who knows, in another month she might migrate to good, and a year after that, graduate to copacetic.

Alex woke up Friday feeling pretty great, he'd decided that today would be the day that he finally spoke to her. Taylor had been in a good mood the entire week. This would be the closest thing he had to a first impression with the girl, so he prepared his outfit accordingly, he seesawed between his usual cargo pants and a pair of jeans, and ultimately decided on his dark blue cargo pants. He picked his short sleeved maroon shirt, and his usual steel toe boots.

He took the time to check himself out in the bathroom mirror, after all, it would not do to mess up his first impression. He was taller than most boys, standing at an even six foot and burly with it, dark brown hair cropped short, his eyes were a dark brown and he had some bags because he didn't like going to bed on time. He checked his jaw and saw that he should probably shave, he wasn't yet at the point where he could grow a badass beard, and he didn't like the look of the patchy whiskers on his neck and cheeks.

His nose was a little crooked from that time he got in a fight with a couple jocks, taught those assholes not to talk shit about nerdy pastimes.

He flexed at the mirror, the sleeves of his shirt biting slightly into his biceps, drawing attention to them. Spending three evenings a week on the gym ensured he was in good enough shape, though he did have a little bit of a belly that he kept promising to himself he'd get rid of eventually.

He grinned at himself in the mirror, the smile was a little awkward, and his teeth were just a tad crooked, but not enough to need bracers. Alex smacked his lips, feeling they were a little dry and cracked, and realized he forgot to use that lip balm his mother had gotten him, again.

One of these days he'd be a responsible adult and remember to use his lip balm, but that day had clearly not been yesterday, it would probably be today, though he'd not make a promise on that.

He had breakfast with his mom and sister.

"Mornin' dork." Said his sister.

"Mornin' welp." He said to her.

"Morning my spawn." Said their mom.

"Morning broodmother." They said back in eerie unison.

Breakfast was good.

He put on his jacket to make his way to school, his mom berated him that he needed a heavier coat, but he was a big burly guy, and the code of burliness stated that he had to go with a jacket too thin to really deal with the snow outside.

Really, everything was looking up, first period was not as boring as it could have been, he walked to his first class of the day with his latest personal project, and froze the moment he saw her.

Something had gone wrong. Her little smirk was nowhere to be found, she was as fidgety as she'd ever been, but what little expression she'd had gained in the last week was all gone, replaced by a barely hidden glare.

Alex sat on the seat next to her, but did not attempt to strike up a conversation. This was going to set him back, the question was, for how long?

When lunch came about, Alex purposely dithered about, it was important to be consistent, but he had a feeling that Taylor was looking for an excuse to explode at someone, and he didn't wanna ruin his chances.

Just then, he saw Lily move towards Taylor's (and lately Alex's) usual table, oh, this is not the time to try Lily. Alex wondered if he should warn the girl off, but things happened before he came to a decision.

"Hey Taylor." Lily said with a bit of a strained smile.

"Fuck you, Lily." Taylor all but spat in the girl's face, her tone venomous enough to kill at ten paces.

Alex decided that this called for a tactical withdrawal, and advanced in a direction opposite to the one Lily had so valiantly traveled in to be rebuffed at the walls of fort Taylor.

Alex spent the rest of the day paying minimum attention to his teachers, and headed straight home, went up to his room, and sprawled on his bed, his bloody homework could wait. He stared long and hard at the ceiling of his room, but it jealousy guarded the secrets to the universe, and as such, Alex cursed it and its entire bloodline.

Though that was probably a bad thing to do, he spent a not insignificant amount of time under that ceiling, having it drip curses on him would probably be bad. His mom came about some time to inform him he was going to be going on a tour of the Protectorate building with his sister come Tuesday.

Because that was the best thing to do with his Tuesday afternoon; waste a whole two hours to stare for two minutes at a bunch of violent superpowered teenagers like they're animals at the Zoo, only significantly more dangerous.

When Monday came about, he still had no clue as to what he was going to do, Taylor still didn't look as happy as she had during the last week (bar Friday), but she also didn't have that 'I'm going to explode at the first person that greets me' air. So Alex continued with his plan to get her acclimated to his presence, still saying nothing, just reading in her presence while getting physically closer a half inch at a time.

Tuesday went much the same, though he had to eat lunch with what used to be his usual group from the writing club. Lily had decided to make another attempt at sitting with Taylor, but she continued to do it dumb, not giving the poor girl a chance to acclimate to her presence, to stop seeing her as a threat, before speaking to her.

The rest of the school day went as usual, Taylor no longer hunched up when he walked near her on the way to the bus stop, not even if he happened to be at arm's length. So…progress.
He went home, got started on his homework, then went out for their tour forty minutes before they had to leave because Anna was way too excited about getting to see the 'heroes'. To Alex's immense chagrin, a car crash en route to the Protectorate building added forty minutes to their commute, making Anna entirely too smug about her 'foresight.'

This wasn't Alex's first tour so he didn't really pay much attention to what their tour guide was saying, Anna lapped it up though, her dark blonde hair whipping back and forth as she turned to look at everything the guide spoke about, her brown eyes shining with excitement.

Man, maybe Alex was growing jaded in his old age, but Capes just didn't do anything for him, then again Capes had killed his dad, so fuck the lot of them.

The tour made it to the Wards room. "And this is the Wards common area!" The tour Guide said in his obnoxiously professionally excited voice. "The Wards relax here when they're not off learning to be heroes, and we even have a few of them here today!"

Weld stepped up, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders, it was always a surprise for Alex to realize he was taller than the Wards captain. "Hello, and welcome to the Boston Protectorate," Weld said, flashing his pearl—well his teeth weren't actually pearly…or white for that matter. "I'm Weld, the current captain of the Wards, and I'd like to introduce you to my team."

Somehow, the guy managed not to sound intimidating, but if one thought about it even a little, if Weld decided to kill everyone in the room, what in shit would stop him? The guy was made of literal metal.

"You probably know Flechette, Hunch, and Valve already," he continued. "Our newest member here is Phase, though we haven't yet introduced her officially."

Alex turned to look, and almost broke into a coughing fit.

Hunched posture, ratty bargain bin jeans and hoodie, brown curly waterfall worthy of a shampoo commercial, bright green eyes staring at her homework like it held the secret to immortality and eternal youth, and a 'fuck off' aura worn like battle armor.

It had to be some other girl with amazing hair, green eyes, a wide expressive mouth and a formidable 'fuck off' aura.

This couldn't be Taylor.

A blonde girl with green eyes and freckles was staring at Taylor, then stepped forward, speaking in an obnoxiously preppy tone. "So, Phase, what's your power?"

This had the unfortunate side effect of making every eye in the room zero in on the girl, something she didn't seem to notice, her head was tilted a little to the side and she seemed to be thinking hard about something.

"Phase?" Weld said in an attempt to get the girl's attention.

Taylor started and looked at the Wards leader. "Huh?"

Weld gave her a concerned look. "You were asked about your powers."

Taylor looked at Flechette, who now that Alex thought about it, also looked kinda familiar, and the other Ward gave a small, easy to miss shrug. Taylor turned back to the crowd. "I, um, can't say yet. It's a secret until my reveal."

The girl that had asked widened her grin. "Makes sense."

"So, how often do you guys go out and fight bad guys!?" Anna asked, bouncing in place.

Flechette chuckled and answered in Lily's voice. "We go on patrol fairly often, though it's rare for the Wards to go into combat. We're supposed to call it in, and keep people safe while we wait for the authorities. Every now and then things happen and we have to step in, but those are the exception rather than the rule."

Anna and a few of the kids (and teenagers, and adults that should have known better) asked more excited questions, but any question that was about 'Phase' was fielded by Lil-Flechette or by the Tour Guide, giving Taylor no opportunity to answer any of the questions directed at her. Not that she looked like she wanted to answer, she was too busy giving everyone furtive glances.

The rest of the tour was a blur. Alex's thoughts were a jumbled mess, he let Anna's excited babbling wash over him as he tried to work through the conundrum.

Taylor was a Cape.

But, somehow, through some great cosmic joke, she was also a beaten down bullying victim.

Lily was probably a cape.

Taylor had some beef with her, and judging by the vindictive smile she'd had that one time they'd run into Weld and Reynard, she had a beef with all the Wards.

What had the tour guide called Taylor? Phase?

She had been at the school for a month, why hadn't the Protectorate done its usual shindig? If Tayl–Phase was a new Ward, then this was the most anemic Ward reveal ever, she'd had no costume, hell, if anything, she'd put actual effort into looking worse than she did at school.

Where were the rumors to build up hype? The 'leaks' of work in progress concept art? Where was the big press conference with highly curated 'Journalists' to throw softball questions with prewritten politically correct bullshit for answers?

No, something was off.

Doing what little research he could did not shine a light on the issue either. There was nothing on 'Phase', nothing official anyways. The Boston Protectorate official PHO account, as well as the accounts of every 'Hero' and Ward were all unusually silent, even when people pinged them directly.

There was an 'Unannounced Ward' thread sitting at forty pages of mostly obvious PRT shills talking shit, along with a plague of locked threads with plenty of deleted posts, thread and multi-day bans. It took two hours before Alex was able to find a new thread about Phase. The original post mentioned that she'd exploded on an earlier tour, talking shit about the Protectorate and Wards, and about how the Protectorate hid malfeasance, about how she'd been forced to join the Wards against her will.

Two minutes later the thread was locked and the original post was deleted.

Alex sat back and thought.

Taylor was a Cape. She seemingly didn't want to be a cape, or at least, not a cape for the Protectorate.

She was a Ward, but held herself away from the Wards and was actively hostile to other Wards.

Taylor was a Cape.

But she was also a lonely, hurt girl that would sit in the corner and read The Princess Bride rather than risk talking to people.

Taylor was a Cape, but people didn't really get a choice about getting superpowers, as far as Alex knew. She couldn't be blamed for that, especially when she was a Cape against her will.

But she was still a Cape.

Alex's resolve to stop trying to become Taylor's friend lasted until the next day, when he saw that she'd gotten her little smirk back, a little smirk strangely laced with anxiety.

It looked so much like Anna's little smirk whenever she got one over him, and he hated seeing it tainted with fear. She should have a smile that brightened the whole room. Maybe be a motormouth that didn't know when to shut up about the latest thing that struck her fancy.

She shouldn't be this angry, awful shrew pushing people away.

"Anger is merely pain wearing a disguise." His dad's voice said in the back of his mind, and Alex could not help the long suffering sigh that passed through his lips.

He took his seat next to Taylor, and sat a half inch closer to being in front of her at lunch. She'd get curious and say something to him eventually. And when she did, maybe they could have a chat about why the Earth Bet version of the Princess Bride was the clearly superior one.
 
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It would also be reasonable to accept her situation, and try to move forward knowing this group of people are almost completely unrelated to the ones who were in large part still only tangentially responsible for what happened to her.

Honestly 'accepting her situation' would not only be capitulation, but reward the PRT for their complicity.

Sure it started out as a ENE branch problem, but that's no longer the case, due to Armstrongs part in this kerfuffle it went from a local problem to a regional one.

Not to mention the utter lack of actual punishment for the folks involved there really isn't a realistic way for the stubborn hell or high water Hebert to roll over for them, since spite is all she has left.
 
Omake: Spoken Too Soon
There are no words to describe my happiness that this updated again. Good to see Taylor still ruining all of the PRT's plans to get her socializing through completely reasonable means.

One has to wonder what the PR guys were thinking when they agreed to let Taylor participate on another tour after the trainwreck that was the last one, but I guess they needed to get Taylor exposed to different people to wash out the first tour incident.

For Lily I am sorry to say this but Connie is the closet thing Taylor has to a friend in the Wards despite your best efforts.

A flick of my thumb brought up some of the historical footage from PHO of the Brockton Bay Wards getting into fights with the local gangs. Time to make sure their Youth Guard rep was aware of their escapades.
I can just imagine the scene:

Aegis was happy today as he addressed his fellow Wards, "Its been a rough two months and I know everyone has been a little tense due to the Youth Guard investigations, but that over and we can finally get back out there and start making a difference again."

Upon finishing his little speech the mask up buzzer sounded as a blandly dressed Youth Guard rep walked in.

"Ah your all still here that makes what I need to do so much simpler, as of this moment all Wards activities are suspended until the completion of an official Youth Guard investigation."

Aegis stared at the man and sputtered, "But we just got through an investigation what do you mean there is another one?!"

"There have been complaints to my department regarding undocumented encounters with some of the local gangs, and as protocol dictates any undocumented encounters must be investigated to ensure the safety of the local Wards."

Aegis groaned in frustration, "And how long will this 'investigation' take."

The rep shrugged, "Standard procedure states that at minimum one week should be spent on investigations to ensure that there are no unknown issues."

"One week isn't that bad," Aegis said somewhat hopefully.

"You misunderstand, its one week of investigations per incident, and your department has dozens of such incidents so at minimum the time set for the investigation is set to a year and a half," the rep clarified.

"A year and a half!"

"Yes exactly, now if you excuse me I have a lot of work that needs doing and I can't spend my whole day in here," with that said the rep turned and left the Wards' room.

Standing there silently for a moment Aegis turned back to look at his team, specifically to stare at Ampere who is the one most likely to blame for the situation.

Ampere for her part at least had the common decency to look ashamed for what her actions had inadvertently caused, unlike Sophia who as far as Aegis is aware still hasn't gotten done with her on going investigation following the Phase Incident.

After the moment of dissapointed silence it was Dennis who spoke up first, "Guess I will go get out the boardgames again?"

Mumbling in agreement the rest of the Wards followed him back into the common room.
 
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And when she did, maybe they could have a chat about why the Earth Bet version of the Princess Bride was the clearly superior one.

Oh, bull-shit! It loses the international trade aspects, it completely screws up Fezzik's character background, in favor of that dumb 'corkscrew' joke, and it cuts out the entire ongoing metaphor about trees!
Aleph's version is far superior. Bill Goldman's translation has nothing on Richard Bachman's.
 
Had another thought, Taylor protested the original plan for the movie night because it excluded Weld and Hunch which could be spun to say she is standing up for the poor Case 53s who often get forgotten by the uncaring PRT/Protectorate, and doing so while screwing with the government's plans for her Annette must be so proud of her little girl.
 
I mean sure they've been actually reasonably accommodating, but generating paperwork is it's own means. She's *told* them that she doesn't want to be a ward, and even them proving it for the first hundred only makes them look more shady when they have to say it all again for the second hundred, and the third, and so on and so on. And even if they're being reasonably accomodating, it could still be equivacal to a prison forcing a prisoner (literally, not just through "soft" means) to work in the boiler room without providing water.

Even if that would generate about the same level of apathy in beaurocratic officials
Actually some burocracies got specific rules to prevent that sort of spam, forms without sustance or that add no new evidence or change in circumstances can be sumarily dismissed while the original claim is in investigation. Granted, those locks are usually not for internal complains but is an administrative measure that isn't too hard to apply. Furthermore nowadays in the word processor era the paperwork doesn't have the same investment in time and effort as it did in the days of handwritten forms signed by triplicate so any judge who sees those won't think 'there is something wrong here' instead the reaction is going to be 'I hate spam'.

That said it is a good idea, just that instead of sending hundreds of complains to the same people it is better to send personalized ones to every relevant department, for example sending complains to Public Relations about not being able to talk about some of the costume restrictions when she can prove that those are factual, documented statements or ask Human Resources to get off the tour rotation due to the complexity of doing homework during those hours. That kind of paperwork needs to be properly adressed and answered, and delays or incomplete answers can be debated in further paperwork that will leave evidence of proper procedure and madurity to any judge. In particular she must send written requests on the developments and progress of the investigation of the crime she was a victim to both the Boston and the BB Protectorate and PRT offices, asking for specific schedules and progress in the investigation of particular pieces of evidence, such as her diaries or the E-mails send against her. All of that leaves a record that the victim is most certainly not forgetting about the crimes commited against her.
 
Oh, bull-shit! It loses the international trade aspects, it completely screws up Fezzik's character background, in favor of that dumb 'corkscrew' joke, and it cuts out the entire ongoing metaphor about trees!
Aleph's version is far superior. Bill Goldman's translation has nothing on Richard Bachman's.

But the Bet version hired two Combat Thinkers to play Wesley and Inigo Montoya! As well as an actual Brute to play Fezzik! (You know, before NEPEA 5 made that horrendously expensive)

So the fight scenes were much better than anything before or since!

And watching Inigo dominate the fight against Rugen was cathartic!
 
But the Bet version hired two Combat Thinkers to play Wesley and Inigo Montoya! As well as an actual Brute to play Fezzik! (You know, before NEPEA 5 made that horrendously expensive)

So the fight scenes were much better than anything before or since!

And watching Inigo dominate the fight against Rugen was cathartic!
Fight scenes mean nothing if the overall plot suffers from it you must admit the Bet version obviously suffers from the writters dumbing down the plot to make more room for their over the top action scenes.
 
Fight scenes mean nothing if the overall plot suffers from it you must admit the Bet version obviously suffers from the writters dumbing down the plot to make more room for their over the top action scenes.

I must admit nothing! The core of Wesley and Buttercup's story remained (mostly) unchanged!

And the feared Dread Pirate Roberts starting a rumor that only a maiden with a pure heart could defeat him (and then allowing himself to be thrashed by Buttercup after defeating both Inigo and Fezzik) was romantic and over the top as fuck!
 
I do love stories like this. The only downside is that this Taylor continues to believe in being a hero, when conquering warlord is where it's at!

Not even that. Taylor needs to come to understand that there isn't anyone that has shit on her, and that she owes the government and it's desires exactly fucking nothing. The lesson after that is that laws don't benefit her at all.

And if she's not getting anything out of this stupid little arrangement, then why the hell even bother keeping up her end? It's not like the PRT is keeping up theirs.

Taylor also needs a good, long think about what her beloved mother actually stood for. Knuckling under to some worthless bureaucrats that will make anyone else pay any price in return to keeping their protected little fiefdoms? Yeah, Annette would already have the molotovs mixed. My mother certainly would, in this case.

Roulette actually let some of the cat out of the bag this chapter. Taylor missed it, but information on her messing with thinkers is leaking. Once she has enough dots to connect, all bets are off.
 

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