Majin (Worm/Dragon Ball Z Fusion Fic)

[Tontis]

Prologue​

"Nervous son?"

"Only a little, Director Armstrong." said Weld, glancing down at the man and smiling faintly. Director Armstrong was a short man, five and a half feet tall, with dark skin and a bit overweight. He had a high forehead, a sharp jaw, and his hair was starting to grey and recede at the same time. In spite of the perpetually angry look on his face, Weld felt perfectly at ease around the director, and was glad he was personally accompanying him instead of sending the Deputy instead.

The Protectorate and the PRT, organizations dedicated to dealing with criminals of parahuman origin, were the closest thing Weld had to a home and family. Just like anyone's family, there were those Weld got along with, and those he tolerated because he had to. Deputy Director Angelica Jensen was definitely in the latter category, not through any fault of her own; their personalities were simply incompatible. She was the last person he needed around when trying to welcome a new member to the Wards.

That was why Weld felt nervous at all, though granted it wasn't as nervous as he knew he should be, but that was out of his control. His hands tightened with a faint groan of metal against metal. This was why the director had chosen him to welcome their new member, because of his own condition. Parahuman abilities expressed themselves in a wide variety of ways, but most left a person's body untouched, unless they were a Case 53 like Weld.

'Inhuman Capes' as they were called, varied wildly in their mutation with only a handful of defining traits that united them. Their drastically altered physical appearances, no memory of their past, and an omega symbol tattoo or brand somewhere on their body. Weld himself had been 'gifted' with a body of metal alloy; head to toe, he was a literal iron man. For their new member, meeting someone who was also as 'inhuman' as she was would probably help her feel at ease. Or make her feel like more of a monster, it could honestly swing either way.

Weld shook his head and stared up at the elevator's floor indicator and frowned. Half of the Protectorate was convinced the damn thing moved slower when it was most dramatically convenient.

He sighed, "I read her file, but I feel like I'm missing information. The entire case feels… off, director. Like she was pawned off on us."

Director Armstrong chuckled, a sound similar to rumbling thunder, "That's not entirely inaccurate, but it is a little more complicated than that. Now, you didn't hear this from me, Weld, but apparently there's bad blood between our new recruit and one of the Wards in Brockton Bay."

Weld arched a silver brow, that was news, the girls file made no mention of that. "How bad?"

"Bad enough that ENE is running its own internal investigation." Armstrong explained, while Weld listened intently, "Which is why they 'pawned her off' to us. My bet is that Director Piggot was afraid that the girl would run off if the two came face to face."

That didn't bode well. An entire branch of the Protectorate under investigation over some bad blood? Either it was more than just a clash of personalities, or Director Piggot wasn't taking any chances. The fact that she'd been able to trade the girl for one of their members was probably icing on the cake.Weld wouldn't say he was going to miss Bulldozer, the brute was as liable to cause as much collateral damage as the villains they tried to stop, but the speed with which the Protectorate and PRT acted, had caught everyone off guard. Of course, this all tied back to why Weld was volunteered to be her introduction to the Boston Wards. He tried being as friendly and helpful to others as he could, extending the same kindness he had been offered when he had first wandered into the Protectorate. Go figure that this made him their unofficial representative even if he wasn't the team leader.

"What's your opinion on her, director?" Weld asked.

Before Armstrong could answer, the elevator doors dinged and slid open. The Director smiled and clasped a hand on Welds shoulder, "Well, I think she's a girl that needs a nice warm welcome to her new home. Anything else we can save for later." Then he walked out into the underground garage.

Weld followed, and kept those words in mind. It was important to remember that the girl was a person first, and an asset to the Protectorate second. That thought made him wrinkle his nose, he'd been spending too much time talking to the PRT bureaucrats, the girl had a name. Taylor Hebert was more than just a new name on the Ward roster. They were accepting her into their home, into their family. It was up to Weld to make sure that the courtesy the Protectorate had extended to him, was offered to her.

Now he felt his confidence return, walking with his shoulders a little straighter and his steps a little lighter. Metaphorically, that is, the garage still echoed with his heavy footfalls. Weighing several hundred pounds and being made of living metal would do that.

The primary Boston PRT division had three primary parking lots: There was the large and expansive one at the front of the building where civilians, news reporters and family visitors could park. The parking garage for the employees that kept the wheels of the bureaucratic machine greased and moving. And below that was the underground motorpool where armored vehicles, tinkertech transports, and a fleet of tinted government vehicles were stored PRT response teams and their occasional tinker support deployed from the motor pool whenever a parahuman was on the rampage. Conversely, newly minted members of the Protectorate and Wards often had their first exposure to the building through the motor pool Without a proper costume to preserve their identities, it was up to the PRT to shuttle them from their homes to the headquarters, until a proper costume and cape persona had been created. When new members of the team weren't being ferried to and fro, parahuman criminals were brought to the state of the art holding cells via an industrial size and strength elevator built into the eastern side of the garage.

All of this was why Weld and Director Armstrong were down there, to meet Taylor Hebert when she arrived. They emerged from the elevator into the harsh industrial lights of the loading bay Based off his past experience, Weld had hoped he'd have a few minutes to wait for Taylor's escort to arrive so he could prepare his first words.

Unfortunately, they were frustratingly efficient today, and he had no luck. For once, they were the ones late today. A large black sedan with tinted windows was parked with one PRT agent in civilian garb heading for the trunk while the other stood by the driver side door looking alert and intimidating. Weld only spared them a brief look, before focusing on Taylor herself.

Of course, Weld had read the file on her and seen the pictures, he had known what to expect. But those pictures didn't do justice to just how much her powers had physically changed her. Weld knew that at one time, Taylor had been a tall, thin girl with pale skin and long curly brown, almost black. hair. A very plain, bespectacled-girls-next-door kind of person, perfectly average.

She had kept her height, perhaps even had grown taller, but had traded in her pale skin and dark hair for rubbery pink skin and hair to match. Her glasses were long gone along with her nose, and her eyes had grown larger, and practically reversed color; black sclera highlighted eerily white irises. A tentacle sloped out from the front of her skull, and drooped along the back; Weld wasn't sure, but he thought it might be moving on its own. Taylor certainly wasn't the most monstrous Case 53 that Weld had ever seen, or even the most monstrous cape, but her appearance practically oozed uncanny valley. He felt on edge just looking at her, a distinct desire to be as far away from her as humanly possible.

His instinctual reaction was odd - physical appearances didn't normally bother Weld that much. Perhaps she had a subtle aura that made people feel unsettled around her. With her appearance, most would probably write it off as lizard-brained instinct, but Weld wasn't so sure. He made a mental note to bring this up later, when Taylor wasn't around. For now, it was time for introductions.

Taylor noticed them after the PRT agent handed off a small bag, practically a backpack, to her, and returned to the car. She stiffened, and ignored the car as it rumbled off back to storage behind her. Weld quickly bridged the gap between them without missing a beat and offered his hand, "Taylor Hebert? My name's Weld, I'm one of the Wards. It's nice to meet you."

Some of the tension eased from her shoulders, and she shook his hand; she had a strong, inhumanly warm, grip. "T-thank you. It's good - I mean nice to meet you too."

Weld smiled and released her hand, "I hope the trip wasn't too dull, it's a bit of a drive from Brockton Bay to Boston."

Taylor rapidly shook her head, "No, no. I mean, it's not that long of a drive from Brockton Bay, but I was so nervous that I just couldn't get bored because I mean, I'm here as a Ward and I don't think I ever expected this and everything is moving so fast, and I think I'm going to shut up now."

Weld laughed, "It's okay Taylor, I get it. The last few days must've been crazy for you."

Her shoulders slumped and she laughed nervously, "Haha, yeah. I think it still hasn't sunk in yet!"

"We are more than happy to make your induction to the Wards as smooth and painless as possible, Miss Hebert," Director Armstrong said as he stepped up next to Weld, "Or do you prefer Taylor?"

The girl perked up at that, "E-either or, mist- I mean sir. I'm sorry."

The director laughed and extended a hand in greeting, "Taylor it is. I'm Director Kamil Armstrong, one of your superiors in Boston. Bastion and Kelvin are, unfortunately, preoccupied at the moment; duties that come with the job I'm afraid. I had free time that they didn't, so I wanted to welcome you personally to our department."

Without a nose, it was hard for Weld to place the expression on Taylor's face. He mistook it for confusion at first, but when her shoulders relaxed and her head… tentacle? Bobbed up and down, he figured it was relief.

She shook the director's hand and met his smile with a small one of her own, notably keeping her lips shut. "Thank you, Director, it's a pleasure to meet you both."

Armstrong laughed, "Please, unless you graduate to an official member of the Protectorate, or I'm debriefing you, it's Armstrong."

Taylor nodded, "Okay, I'll remember that Di-Armstrong."

"See that you do. I get enough formality from the rest of the PRT, I don't need it from you kids either," Armstrong said with an easy smile. His eyes flicked to Weld, who got the hint.

"Well," he said, rubbing his hands together, "Is there anything you need help with? I can show you to your room and give you the grand tour if you want."

Taylor glanced over her shoulder at her backpack, and nodded, "A tour would be nice, if it's not too much trouble. I don't really want to impose."

"Nonsense," Armstrong said, "Taylor, the ink on your paperwork might still be drying, but as far as I'm concerned, you're a member of my Wards. As the Director, it's my job to make sure that the people serving under me have the tools and environment they need to function at their best."

The corner of his mouth twitched in a smirk, "Within reason of course."

Weld definitely knew the expression that came over Taylor's face now: disbelief. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you."

She turned to Weld, "I really would appreciate that tour, Weld. Is there any chance we could stop at the cafeteria first? I'm starving."

Weld smiled, "Sure, but heads up, the lunch rush is going to hit soon. I could bring you to your room first and then bring whatever you want to eat, if you're not… ya know, ready to meet the whole organization."

From the way she held herself and acted, it was obvious how unsure she was about her new form. A day or two to ease into things might help her shed it without pushing her too hard. He remembered the stares he'd gotten before everyone had adjusted to having him around, they were hard to ignore.

Taylor opened her mouth to respond, paused, and rested a hand on her stomach, "No… I'll deal with it. I really am hungry right now."

He nodded, "Okay then, follow me."

A quick lunch, and then a tour of the building, that should be easy enough.

-M-​

Weld had fought the Teeth, witnessed their cruelty and viciousness. He had faced the unseen horrors of Night and Fog. Blasto's horrifying genetic experiments, he had stood against them with his fellow Wards. All together, combined with the machinations of the Ambassadors, had left him with horrifying sights that gave him nightmares.

Watching Taylor eat, quickly joined them.

There were mountains smaller than the pile of food she had dragged back to their table, how she fit it all on one tray he had no idea. That wasn't the scary part, what scared him was that she went back for seconds. Then thirds, then fourths, until there was a hill of aluminum trays neatly stacked in the center of their table, easily two or three feet high and practically licked clean.

Her file had mentioned that Taylor's intake of calories was drastically increased by her powers - this had obviously been downplayed. He had assumed that the first tray had been what they meant; oh how naively innocent he had been.

The moment she had started eating, she had entered a fugue, like a tinker. She paid no mind to the stunned stares from PRT staff as she made repeated trips to the cafeteria line. It got so bad that Weld legitimately worried that she might actually eat the entire stock before the lunch rush had even begun.

To his utter relief, this never came to pass. On her fifteenth tray, Taylor finally slowed to a stop, and slid back in her chair, a content sigh on her lips and eyes struggling to stay open. Her stomach was visibly extended to the point that her belly poked out between her shirt and pants.

Weld sat in stunned silence, and glanced around the cafeteria. The mess hall was large enough to comfortably seat the majority of the staff on site, and was only now beginning to fill with PRT workers. Many of the new arrivals visibly stopped and gaped at their table before they went to the lunch line. Everyone else who had been at ground zero when the massacre began had wisely retreated to the other side of the mess hall, if only to avoid the splash zone.

Slowly, Weld peered past the stacks of trays at Taylor; she looked at him, blinked slowly, and then her eyes widened and she sat up straight. Her stomach deflated like a balloon and if he hadn't seen it himself, he would never have imagined her as the culprit behind the murder of food he had witnessed.

Taylor at least had enough self awareness to look embarrassed. She coughed awkwardly into her hand and said, "S-sorry. Like I said, I was hungry."

Weld looked meaningfully at the trays of food and then back at her. "You don't say?"

"Can… can we just go on the rest of the tour please?" Taylor asked, now aware of the odd looks they were getting.

Weld stood up and offered her a hand, "Sure, let's get you settled in."

She took it, stood up, and paused to look at his own tray, which was practically untouched.

"Um, you weren't going to eat the rest of that, were you?"

A/N: Greetings and hello! You probably don't know me, which is fine as I'm new here. I'm migrating from SV, as I don't agree with their mods. A friend recommended this site to me instead, so here I am! I'll be moving all my (Active) stories to QQ now, and update them on a M/F basis. If you want the entire story now, I'll post links to where they are in their current forms down below.

Hope you all enjoy this story and that it fits here, and have a wonderful day!

Spoiler

https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/majin-worm-dragon-ball-fusion-fic-crossover.816392/

 

[RichardWhereat]

Fantastic to see this here. Can't wait for the rest of the chapters.

 

[ArcaneReader]

Prologue​

"Nervous son?"

"Only a little, Director Armstrong." said Weld, glancing down at the man and smiling faintly. Director Armstrong was a short man, five and a half feet tall, with dark skin and a bit overweight. He had a high forehead, a sharp jaw, and his hair was starting to grey and recede at the same time. In spite of the perpetually angry look on his face, Weld felt perfectly at ease around the director, and was glad he was personally accompanying him instead of sending the Deputy instead.

The Protectorate and the PRT, organizations dedicated to dealing with criminals of parahuman origin, were the closest thing Weld had to a home and family. Just like anyone's family, there were those Weld got along with, and those he tolerated because he had to. Deputy Director Angelica Jensen was definitely in the latter category, not through any fault of her own; their personalities were simply incompatible. She was the last person he needed around when trying to welcome a new member to the Wards.

That was why Weld felt nervous at all, though granted it wasn't as nervous as he knew he should be, but that was out of his control. His hands tightened with a faint groan of metal against metal. This was why the director had chosen him to welcome their new member, because of his own condition. Parahuman abilities expressed themselves in a wide variety of ways, but most left a person's body untouched, unless they were a Case 53 like Weld.

'Inhuman Capes' as they were called, varied wildly in their mutation with only a handful of defining traits that united them. Their drastically altered physical appearances, no memory of their past, and an omega symbol tattoo or brand somewhere on their body. Weld himself had been 'gifted' with a body of metal alloy; head to toe, he was a literal iron man. For their new member, meeting someone who was also as 'inhuman' as she was would probably help her feel at ease. Or make her feel like more of a monster, it could honestly swing either way.

Weld shook his head and stared up at the elevator's floor indicator and frowned. Half of the Protectorate was convinced the damn thing moved slower when it was most dramatically convenient.

He sighed, "I read her file, but I feel like I'm missing information. The entire case feels… off, director. Like she was pawned off on us."

Director Armstrong chuckled, a sound similar to rumbling thunder, "That's not entirely inaccurate, but it is a little more complicated than that. Now, you didn't hear this from me, Weld, but apparently there's bad blood between our new recruit and one of the Wards in Brockton Bay."

Weld arched a silver brow, that was news, the girls file made no mention of that. "How bad?"

"Bad enough that ENE is running its own internal investigation." Armstrong explained, while Weld listened intently, "Which is why they 'pawned her off' to us. My bet is that Director Piggot was afraid that the girl would run off if the two came face to face."

That didn't bode well. An entire branch of the Protectorate under investigation over some bad blood? Either it was more than just a clash of personalities, or Director Piggot wasn't taking any chances. The fact that she'd been able to trade the girl for one of their members was probably icing on the cake.Weld wouldn't say he was going to miss Bulldozer, the brute was as liable to cause as much collateral damage as the villains they tried to stop, but the speed with which the Protectorate and PRT acted, had caught everyone off guard. Of course, this all tied back to why Weld was volunteered to be her introduction to the Boston Wards. He tried being as friendly and helpful to others as he could, extending the same kindness he had been offered when he had first wandered into the Protectorate. Go figure that this made him their unofficial representative even if he wasn't the team leader.

"What's your opinion on her, director?" Weld asked.

Before Armstrong could answer, the elevator doors dinged and slid open. The Director smiled and clasped a hand on Welds shoulder, "Well, I think she's a girl that needs a nice warm welcome to her new home. Anything else we can save for later." Then he walked out into the underground garage.

Weld followed, and kept those words in mind. It was important to remember that the girl was a person first, and an asset to the Protectorate second. That thought made him wrinkle his nose, he'd been spending too much time talking to the PRT bureaucrats, the girl had a name. Taylor Hebert was more than just a new name on the Ward roster. They were accepting her into their home, into their family. It was up to Weld to make sure that the courtesy the Protectorate had extended to him, was offered to her.

Now he felt his confidence return, walking with his shoulders a little straighter and his steps a little lighter. Metaphorically, that is, the garage still echoed with his heavy footfalls. Weighing several hundred pounds and being made of living metal would do that.

The primary Boston PRT division had three primary parking lots: There was the large and expansive one at the front of the building where civilians, news reporters and family visitors could park. The parking garage for the employees that kept the wheels of the bureaucratic machine greased and moving. And below that was the underground motorpool where armored vehicles, tinkertech transports, and a fleet of tinted government vehicles were stored PRT response teams and their occasional tinker support deployed from the motor pool whenever a parahuman was on the rampage. Conversely, newly minted members of the Protectorate and Wards often had their first exposure to the building through the motor pool Without a proper costume to preserve their identities, it was up to the PRT to shuttle them from their homes to the headquarters, until a proper costume and cape persona had been created. When new members of the team weren't being ferried to and fro, parahuman criminals were brought to the state of the art holding cells via an industrial size and strength elevator built into the eastern side of the garage.

All of this was why Weld and Director Armstrong were down there, to meet Taylor Hebert when she arrived. They emerged from the elevator into the harsh industrial lights of the loading bay Based off his past experience, Weld had hoped he'd have a few minutes to wait for Taylor's escort to arrive so he could prepare his first words.

Unfortunately, they were frustratingly efficient today, and he had no luck. For once, they were the ones late today. A large black sedan with tinted windows was parked with one PRT agent in civilian garb heading for the trunk while the other stood by the driver side door looking alert and intimidating. Weld only spared them a brief look, before focusing on Taylor herself.

Of course, Weld had read the file on her and seen the pictures, he had known what to expect. But those pictures didn't do justice to just how much her powers had physically changed her. Weld knew that at one time, Taylor had been a tall, thin girl with pale skin and long curly brown, almost black. hair. A very plain, bespectacled-girls-next-door kind of person, perfectly average.

She had kept her height, perhaps even had grown taller, but had traded in her pale skin and dark hair for rubbery pink skin and hair to match. Her glasses were long gone along with her nose, and her eyes had grown larger, and practically reversed color; black sclera highlighted eerily white irises. A tentacle sloped out from the front of her skull, and drooped along the back; Weld wasn't sure, but he thought it might be moving on its own. Taylor certainly wasn't the most monstrous Case 53 that Weld had ever seen, or even the most monstrous cape, but her appearance practically oozed uncanny valley. He felt on edge just looking at her, a distinct desire to be as far away from her as humanly possible.

His instinctual reaction was odd - physical appearances didn't normally bother Weld that much. Perhaps she had a subtle aura that made people feel unsettled around her. With her appearance, most would probably write it off as lizard-brained instinct, but Weld wasn't so sure. He made a mental note to bring this up later, when Taylor wasn't around. For now, it was time for introductions.

Taylor noticed them after the PRT agent handed off a small bag, practically a backpack, to her, and returned to the car. She stiffened, and ignored the car as it rumbled off back to storage behind her. Weld quickly bridged the gap between them without missing a beat and offered his hand, "Taylor Hebert? My name's Weld, I'm one of the Wards. It's nice to meet you."

Some of the tension eased from her shoulders, and she shook his hand; she had a strong, inhumanly warm, grip. "T-thank you. It's good - I mean nice to meet you too."

Weld smiled and released her hand, "I hope the trip wasn't too dull, it's a bit of a drive from Brockton Bay to Boston."

Taylor rapidly shook her head, "No, no. I mean, it's not that long of a drive from Brockton Bay, but I was so nervous that I just couldn't get bored because I mean, I'm here as a Ward and I don't think I ever expected this and everything is moving so fast, and I think I'm going to shut up now."

Weld laughed, "It's okay Taylor, I get it. The last few days must've been crazy for you."

Her shoulders slumped and she laughed nervously, "Haha, yeah. I think it still hasn't sunk in yet!"

"We are more than happy to make your induction to the Wards as smooth and painless as possible, Miss Hebert," Director Armstrong said as he stepped up next to Weld, "Or do you prefer Taylor?"

The girl perked up at that, "E-either or, mist- I mean sir. I'm sorry."

The director laughed and extended a hand in greeting, "Taylor it is. I'm Director Kamil Armstrong, one of your superiors in Boston. Bastion and Kelvin are, unfortunately, preoccupied at the moment; duties that come with the job I'm afraid. I had free time that they didn't, so I wanted to welcome you personally to our department."

Without a nose, it was hard for Weld to place the expression on Taylor's face. He mistook it for confusion at first, but when her shoulders relaxed and her head… tentacle? Bobbed up and down, he figured it was relief.

She shook the director's hand and met his smile with a small one of her own, notably keeping her lips shut. "Thank you, Director, it's a pleasure to meet you both."

Armstrong laughed, "Please, unless you graduate to an official member of the Protectorate, or I'm debriefing you, it's Armstrong."

Taylor nodded, "Okay, I'll remember that Di-Armstrong."

"See that you do. I get enough formality from the rest of the PRT, I don't need it from you kids either," Armstrong said with an easy smile. His eyes flicked to Weld, who got the hint.

"Well," he said, rubbing his hands together, "Is there anything you need help with? I can show you to your room and give you the grand tour if you want."

Taylor glanced over her shoulder at her backpack, and nodded, "A tour would be nice, if it's not too much trouble. I don't really want to impose."

"Nonsense," Armstrong said, "Taylor, the ink on your paperwork might still be drying, but as far as I'm concerned, you're a member of my Wards. As the Director, it's my job to make sure that the people serving under me have the tools and environment they need to function at their best."

The corner of his mouth twitched in a smirk, "Within reason of course."

Weld definitely knew the expression that came over Taylor's face now: disbelief. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you."

She turned to Weld, "I really would appreciate that tour, Weld. Is there any chance we could stop at the cafeteria first? I'm starving."

Weld smiled, "Sure, but heads up, the lunch rush is going to hit soon. I could bring you to your room first and then bring whatever you want to eat, if you're not… ya know, ready to meet the whole organization."

From the way she held herself and acted, it was obvious how unsure she was about her new form. A day or two to ease into things might help her shed it without pushing her too hard. He remembered the stares he'd gotten before everyone had adjusted to having him around, they were hard to ignore.

Taylor opened her mouth to respond, paused, and rested a hand on her stomach, "No… I'll deal with it. I really am hungry right now."

He nodded, "Okay then, follow me."

A quick lunch, and then a tour of the building, that should be easy enough.

-M-​

Weld had fought the Teeth, witnessed their cruelty and viciousness. He had faced the unseen horrors of Night and Fog. Blasto's horrifying genetic experiments, he had stood against them with his fellow Wards. All together, combined with the machinations of the Ambassadors, had left him with horrifying sights that gave him nightmares.

Watching Taylor eat, quickly joined them.

There were mountains smaller than the pile of food she had dragged back to their table, how she fit it all on one tray he had no idea. That wasn't the scary part, what scared him was that she went back for seconds. Then thirds, then fourths, until there was a hill of aluminum trays neatly stacked in the center of their table, easily two or three feet high and practically licked clean.

Her file had mentioned that Taylor's intake of calories was drastically increased by her powers - this had obviously been downplayed. He had assumed that the first tray had been what they meant; oh how naively innocent he had been.

The moment she had started eating, she had entered a fugue, like a tinker. She paid no mind to the stunned stares from PRT staff as she made repeated trips to the cafeteria line. It got so bad that Weld legitimately worried that she might actually eat the entire stock before the lunch rush had even begun.

To his utter relief, this never came to pass. On her fifteenth tray, Taylor finally slowed to a stop, and slid back in her chair, a content sigh on her lips and eyes struggling to stay open. Her stomach was visibly extended to the point that her belly poked out between her shirt and pants.

Weld sat in stunned silence, and glanced around the cafeteria. The mess hall was large enough to comfortably seat the majority of the staff on site, and was only now beginning to fill with PRT workers. Many of the new arrivals visibly stopped and gaped at their table before they went to the lunch line. Everyone else who had been at ground zero when the massacre began had wisely retreated to the other side of the mess hall, if only to avoid the splash zone.

Slowly, Weld peered past the stacks of trays at Taylor; she looked at him, blinked slowly, and then her eyes widened and she sat up straight. Her stomach deflated like a balloon and if he hadn't seen it himself, he would never have imagined her as the culprit behind the murder of food he had witnessed.

Taylor at least had enough self awareness to look embarrassed. She coughed awkwardly into her hand and said, "S-sorry. Like I said, I was hungry."

Weld looked meaningfully at the trays of food and then back at her. "You don't say?"

"Can… can we just go on the rest of the tour please?" Taylor asked, now aware of the odd looks they were getting.

Weld stood up and offered her a hand, "Sure, let's get you settled in."

She took it, stood up, and paused to look at his own tray, which was practically untouched.

"Um, you weren't going to eat the rest of that, were you?"

A/N: Greetings and hello! You probably don't know me, which is fine as I'm new here. I'm migrating from SV, as I don't agree with their mods. A friend recommended this site to me instead, so here I am! I'll be moving all my (Active) stories to QQ now, and update them on a M/F basis. If you want the entire story now, I'll post links to where they are in their current forms down below.

Hope you all enjoy this story and that it fits here, and have a wonderful day!

Spoiler

https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/majin-worm-dragon-ball-fusion-fic-crossover.816392/

Click to shrink...

Just read everything you got on SB cant wait for the rest!!

 

[Diraniola]

So if this takes place months before the locker, what was Taylor's "trigger event"

 

[ArcaneReader]

Prologue​

"Nervous son?"

"Only a little, Director Armstrong." said Weld, glancing down at the man and smiling faintly. Director Armstrong was a short man, five and a half feet tall, with dark skin and a bit overweight. He had a high forehead, a sharp jaw, and his hair was starting to grey and recede at the same time. In spite of the perpetually angry look on his face, Weld felt perfectly at ease around the director, and was glad he was personally accompanying him instead of sending the Deputy instead.

The Protectorate and the PRT, organizations dedicated to dealing with criminals of parahuman origin, were the closest thing Weld had to a home and family. Just like anyone's family, there were those Weld got along with, and those he tolerated because he had to. Deputy Director Angelica Jensen was definitely in the latter category, not through any fault of her own; their personalities were simply incompatible. She was the last person he needed around when trying to welcome a new member to the Wards.

That was why Weld felt nervous at all, though granted it wasn't as nervous as he knew he should be, but that was out of his control. His hands tightened with a faint groan of metal against metal. This was why the director had chosen him to welcome their new member, because of his own condition. Parahuman abilities expressed themselves in a wide variety of ways, but most left a person's body untouched, unless they were a Case 53 like Weld.

'Inhuman Capes' as they were called, varied wildly in their mutation with only a handful of defining traits that united them. Their drastically altered physical appearances, no memory of their past, and an omega symbol tattoo or brand somewhere on their body. Weld himself had been 'gifted' with a body of metal alloy; head to toe, he was a literal iron man. For their new member, meeting someone who was also as 'inhuman' as she was would probably help her feel at ease. Or make her feel like more of a monster, it could honestly swing either way.

Weld shook his head and stared up at the elevator's floor indicator and frowned. Half of the Protectorate was convinced the damn thing moved slower when it was most dramatically convenient.

He sighed, "I read her file, but I feel like I'm missing information. The entire case feels… off, director. Like she was pawned off on us."

Director Armstrong chuckled, a sound similar to rumbling thunder, "That's not entirely inaccurate, but it is a little more complicated than that. Now, you didn't hear this from me, Weld, but apparently there's bad blood between our new recruit and one of the Wards in Brockton Bay."

Weld arched a silver brow, that was news, the girls file made no mention of that. "How bad?"

"Bad enough that ENE is running its own internal investigation." Armstrong explained, while Weld listened intently, "Which is why they 'pawned her off' to us. My bet is that Director Piggot was afraid that the girl would run off if the two came face to face."

That didn't bode well. An entire branch of the Protectorate under investigation over some bad blood? Either it was more than just a clash of personalities, or Director Piggot wasn't taking any chances. The fact that she'd been able to trade the girl for one of their members was probably icing on the cake.Weld wouldn't say he was going to miss Bulldozer, the brute was as liable to cause as much collateral damage as the villains they tried to stop, but the speed with which the Protectorate and PRT acted, had caught everyone off guard. Of course, this all tied back to why Weld was volunteered to be her introduction to the Boston Wards. He tried being as friendly and helpful to others as he could, extending the same kindness he had been offered when he had first wandered into the Protectorate. Go figure that this made him their unofficial representative even if he wasn't the team leader.

"What's your opinion on her, director?" Weld asked.

Before Armstrong could answer, the elevator doors dinged and slid open. The Director smiled and clasped a hand on Welds shoulder, "Well, I think she's a girl that needs a nice warm welcome to her new home. Anything else we can save for later." Then he walked out into the underground garage.

Weld followed, and kept those words in mind. It was important to remember that the girl was a person first, and an asset to the Protectorate second. That thought made him wrinkle his nose, he'd been spending too much time talking to the PRT bureaucrats, the girl had a name. Taylor Hebert was more than just a new name on the Ward roster. They were accepting her into their home, into their family. It was up to Weld to make sure that the courtesy the Protectorate had extended to him, was offered to her.

Now he felt his confidence return, walking with his shoulders a little straighter and his steps a little lighter. Metaphorically, that is, the garage still echoed with his heavy footfalls. Weighing several hundred pounds and being made of living metal would do that.

The primary Boston PRT division had three primary parking lots: There was the large and expansive one at the front of the building where civilians, news reporters and family visitors could park. The parking garage for the employees that kept the wheels of the bureaucratic machine greased and moving. And below that was the underground motorpool where armored vehicles, tinkertech transports, and a fleet of tinted government vehicles were stored PRT response teams and their occasional tinker support deployed from the motor pool whenever a parahuman was on the rampage. Conversely, newly minted members of the Protectorate and Wards often had their first exposure to the building through the motor pool Without a proper costume to preserve their identities, it was up to the PRT to shuttle them from their homes to the headquarters, until a proper costume and cape persona had been created. When new members of the team weren't being ferried to and fro, parahuman criminals were brought to the state of the art holding cells via an industrial size and strength elevator built into the eastern side of the garage.

All of this was why Weld and Director Armstrong were down there, to meet Taylor Hebert when she arrived. They emerged from the elevator into the harsh industrial lights of the loading bay Based off his past experience, Weld had hoped he'd have a few minutes to wait for Taylor's escort to arrive so he could prepare his first words.

Unfortunately, they were frustratingly efficient today, and he had no luck. For once, they were the ones late today. A large black sedan with tinted windows was parked with one PRT agent in civilian garb heading for the trunk while the other stood by the driver side door looking alert and intimidating. Weld only spared them a brief look, before focusing on Taylor herself.

Of course, Weld had read the file on her and seen the pictures, he had known what to expect. But those pictures didn't do justice to just how much her powers had physically changed her. Weld knew that at one time, Taylor had been a tall, thin girl with pale skin and long curly brown, almost black. hair. A very plain, bespectacled-girls-next-door kind of person, perfectly average.

She had kept her height, perhaps even had grown taller, but had traded in her pale skin and dark hair for rubbery pink skin and hair to match. Her glasses were long gone along with her nose, and her eyes had grown larger, and practically reversed color; black sclera highlighted eerily white irises. A tentacle sloped out from the front of her skull, and drooped along the back; Weld wasn't sure, but he thought it might be moving on its own. Taylor certainly wasn't the most monstrous Case 53 that Weld had ever seen, or even the most monstrous cape, but her appearance practically oozed uncanny valley. He felt on edge just looking at her, a distinct desire to be as far away from her as humanly possible.

His instinctual reaction was odd - physical appearances didn't normally bother Weld that much. Perhaps she had a subtle aura that made people feel unsettled around her. With her appearance, most would probably write it off as lizard-brained instinct, but Weld wasn't so sure. He made a mental note to bring this up later, when Taylor wasn't around. For now, it was time for introductions.

Taylor noticed them after the PRT agent handed off a small bag, practically a backpack, to her, and returned to the car. She stiffened, and ignored the car as it rumbled off back to storage behind her. Weld quickly bridged the gap between them without missing a beat and offered his hand, "Taylor Hebert? My name's Weld, I'm one of the Wards. It's nice to meet you."

Some of the tension eased from her shoulders, and she shook his hand; she had a strong, inhumanly warm, grip. "T-thank you. It's good - I mean nice to meet you too."

Weld smiled and released her hand, "I hope the trip wasn't too dull, it's a bit of a drive from Brockton Bay to Boston."

Taylor rapidly shook her head, "No, no. I mean, it's not that long of a drive from Brockton Bay, but I was so nervous that I just couldn't get bored because I mean, I'm here as a Ward and I don't think I ever expected this and everything is moving so fast, and I think I'm going to shut up now."

Weld laughed, "It's okay Taylor, I get it. The last few days must've been crazy for you."

Her shoulders slumped and she laughed nervously, "Haha, yeah. I think it still hasn't sunk in yet!"

"We are more than happy to make your induction to the Wards as smooth and painless as possible, Miss Hebert," Director Armstrong said as he stepped up next to Weld, "Or do you prefer Taylor?"

The girl perked up at that, "E-either or, mist- I mean sir. I'm sorry."

The director laughed and extended a hand in greeting, "Taylor it is. I'm Director Kamil Armstrong, one of your superiors in Boston. Bastion and Kelvin are, unfortunately, preoccupied at the moment; duties that come with the job I'm afraid. I had free time that they didn't, so I wanted to welcome you personally to our department."

Without a nose, it was hard for Weld to place the expression on Taylor's face. He mistook it for confusion at first, but when her shoulders relaxed and her head… tentacle? Bobbed up and down, he figured it was relief.

She shook the director's hand and met his smile with a small one of her own, notably keeping her lips shut. "Thank you, Director, it's a pleasure to meet you both."

Armstrong laughed, "Please, unless you graduate to an official member of the Protectorate, or I'm debriefing you, it's Armstrong."

Taylor nodded, "Okay, I'll remember that Di-Armstrong."

"See that you do. I get enough formality from the rest of the PRT, I don't need it from you kids either," Armstrong said with an easy smile. His eyes flicked to Weld, who got the hint.

"Well," he said, rubbing his hands together, "Is there anything you need help with? I can show you to your room and give you the grand tour if you want."

Taylor glanced over her shoulder at her backpack, and nodded, "A tour would be nice, if it's not too much trouble. I don't really want to impose."

"Nonsense," Armstrong said, "Taylor, the ink on your paperwork might still be drying, but as far as I'm concerned, you're a member of my Wards. As the Director, it's my job to make sure that the people serving under me have the tools and environment they need to function at their best."

The corner of his mouth twitched in a smirk, "Within reason of course."

Weld definitely knew the expression that came over Taylor's face now: disbelief. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you."

She turned to Weld, "I really would appreciate that tour, Weld. Is there any chance we could stop at the cafeteria first? I'm starving."

Weld smiled, "Sure, but heads up, the lunch rush is going to hit soon. I could bring you to your room first and then bring whatever you want to eat, if you're not… ya know, ready to meet the whole organization."

From the way she held herself and acted, it was obvious how unsure she was about her new form. A day or two to ease into things might help her shed it without pushing her too hard. He remembered the stares he'd gotten before everyone had adjusted to having him around, they were hard to ignore.

Taylor opened her mouth to respond, paused, and rested a hand on her stomach, "No… I'll deal with it. I really am hungry right now."

He nodded, "Okay then, follow me."

A quick lunch, and then a tour of the building, that should be easy enough.

-M-​

Weld had fought the Teeth, witnessed their cruelty and viciousness. He had faced the unseen horrors of Night and Fog. Blasto's horrifying genetic experiments, he had stood against them with his fellow Wards. All together, combined with the machinations of the Ambassadors, had left him with horrifying sights that gave him nightmares.

Watching Taylor eat, quickly joined them.

There were mountains smaller than the pile of food she had dragged back to their table, how she fit it all on one tray he had no idea. That wasn't the scary part, what scared him was that she went back for seconds. Then thirds, then fourths, until there was a hill of aluminum trays neatly stacked in the center of their table, easily two or three feet high and practically licked clean.

Her file had mentioned that Taylor's intake of calories was drastically increased by her powers - this had obviously been downplayed. He had assumed that the first tray had been what they meant; oh how naively innocent he had been.

The moment she had started eating, she had entered a fugue, like a tinker. She paid no mind to the stunned stares from PRT staff as she made repeated trips to the cafeteria line. It got so bad that Weld legitimately worried that she might actually eat the entire stock before the lunch rush had even begun.

To his utter relief, this never came to pass. On her fifteenth tray, Taylor finally slowed to a stop, and slid back in her chair, a content sigh on her lips and eyes struggling to stay open. Her stomach was visibly extended to the point that her belly poked out between her shirt and pants.

Weld sat in stunned silence, and glanced around the cafeteria. The mess hall was large enough to comfortably seat the majority of the staff on site, and was only now beginning to fill with PRT workers. Many of the new arrivals visibly stopped and gaped at their table before they went to the lunch line. Everyone else who had been at ground zero when the massacre began had wisely retreated to the other side of the mess hall, if only to avoid the splash zone.

Slowly, Weld peered past the stacks of trays at Taylor; she looked at him, blinked slowly, and then her eyes widened and she sat up straight. Her stomach deflated like a balloon and if he hadn't seen it himself, he would never have imagined her as the culprit behind the murder of food he had witnessed.

Taylor at least had enough self awareness to look embarrassed. She coughed awkwardly into her hand and said, "S-sorry. Like I said, I was hungry."

Weld looked meaningfully at the trays of food and then back at her. "You don't say?"

"Can… can we just go on the rest of the tour please?" Taylor asked, now aware of the odd looks they were getting.

Weld stood up and offered her a hand, "Sure, let's get you settled in."

She took it, stood up, and paused to look at his own tray, which was practically untouched.

"Um, you weren't going to eat the rest of that, were you?"

A/N: Greetings and hello! You probably don't know me, which is fine as I'm new here. I'm migrating from SV, as I don't agree with their mods. A friend recommended this site to me instead, so here I am! I'll be moving all my (Active) stories to QQ now, and update them on a M/F basis. If you want the entire story now, I'll post links to where they are in their current forms down below.

Hope you all enjoy this story and that it fits here, and have a wonderful day!

Spoiler

https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/majin-worm-dragon-ball-fusion-fic-crossover.816392/

Click to shrink...

Question are you gonna make any changes before reposting or should I just wait till you catch back up?

 

[Tontis]

Room and Ward 1.1​

Oh my god, why couldn't I keep my stupid mouth shut sometimes!? Weld looked at me like I'd grown a second head. Which, given the events of the past few days, didn't seem that unlikely to me. At the moment though, I just wanted to bury the one I had in the ground and vanish from site.

I couldn't help it, I was so hungry! Ever since I had changed last week, hunger had been a constant, gnawing presence. Sure, sometimes it wasn't so bad, and a good meal could take the edge off, but it was always there. A constant desire, no, need, to eat seemed to be my new default state. My meal in the cafeteria had been the largest I had eaten in days, after consciously trying to control my appetite. That was a lost cause now; when I had walked in, the smell of food had been overpowering, I had barely been able to restrain myself from simply jumping over the glass divider and stuffing my face. That was the worst case scenario, but it was clear that I had ruined my chances for a good first im-

"Yeah sure, take it." Weld offered me his tray, and my train of thought derailed.

"I-what?" I said.

Weld shrugged, "I've seen powers mess with appetites before. I barely need to eat at all, it makes sense that there would be someone out there with the opposite problem. You probably need all that extra energy for your powers, so go for it."

I stared at him at a loss for words. My stomach spoke for me though, loudly grumbling. My face flushed a deeper shade of pink and took his tray without a word and started nibbling on its contents. With the initial hunger frenzy over, I found it much easier to eat at a reasonable pace.

The cafeteria food was, for lack of a better word, awful. But, it was still food, and even if the mashed potatoes were cold, the rolls a little stale and the chicken moist and cold, I still happily scarfed it down.

"Thank you," I murmured as I swallowed the last roll. I tried not to hunch my shoulders, an instinctive reaction I had developed over time at my old high school. Even thinking about Winslow was enough to make me shudder internally, and filled my stomach with a feeling of unease and dread. I reminded myself that I wasn't stuck in that hellhole anymore, that I would never have to go there again. It only helped a little.

Weld smiled, exposing a set of perfect silver teeth. "No problem. You ready for the rest of the tour?"

"Yes please." I muttered and set the tray back on the table before I followed him out of the cafeteria.

The Boston Branch of the PRT was noticeably larger and nicer than the branch back home in Brockton Bay, which was saying something. There were at least ten floors of accountants, bureaucrats, PRT agents and officers, and support staff for the Protectorate members. From what I understand, there were several smaller stations setup throughout the city, similar to a police department, but this HQ was the largest and most well established.

The halls were clean and spotless, clean carpets, pristine walls and softly glowing office lights lined the ceilings. The HQ in Brockton Bay had been in good repair, but it was worn, tired and if you looked close enough, it was clear it was starting to fray. In Boston, none of that was the case and it was weird. As a girl that had grown up in one of the worst cities in the United States, being anywhere that didn't look like it was falling apart felt strange and alien to me.

To be honest, this entire situation was unnerving.

A week ago, I had been plain boring Taylor Hebert, victim of Winslow High and otherwise forgettable daughter of Danny Hebert. Then I had… changed. I furrowed my brow as I followed behind Weld, and took steady breaths. I didn't want to think about that, about what had turned me into the walking wad of bubblegum I was now. The nightmares were bad enough, and I had no desire to drag them with me into the waking world. That felt dreamlike enough as it was.

Not only was I now a superhero in all but name (Which was no doubt coming soon), but I was a Ward in one of the premier locations in the Cape community. The only way this could be anymore amazing, was if I'd been assigned to a district under the protection of the Triumvirate.

I suddenly realized that while I had been lost in thought, Weld had been talking to me. I wasn't used to being talked to, especially after the last week where I had spent more time being talked at.

"Sorry," I apologized, "I wasn't paying attention. Could you repeat that?"

"Would you rather see the gymnasium first, the lockers, or the Ward common room? Hunch will definitely be there, but I'd need to check the patrols and see if anyone else is off duty."

Apprehension swelled in my stomach and I almost stopped walking. What I really wanted was to head to my new room, settle down and just hide for the rest of the day. A chance to get my bearings and to just let the entire situation sink in was something I desperately wanted. Exhaustion pulled at my limbs; the past few days had been so chaotic, I'd had no real chance to just sit down and relax. The car ride over was as close as I'd come outside of sleeping, and I'd been too keyed up to relax.

But, I wasn't one to easily give in to my basic wants, hunger notwithstanding. If I ran off to my room now, I'd just be putting off the inevitable. Better to rip off the band-aid, so to speak, and then I could rest without having to worry about meetings and social interactions.

This would also, hopefully, show me exactly what to expect in the future.

Dad had worked hard to convince me that going to the PRT was the right call, and I still wasn't entirely convinced it had been. But I was here now, the least I could do was find out if I had really left the worst of Winslow behind, or if it would follow me no matter where I went. Armstrong and Weld so far suggested the former, but I was cynical enough to think they were exceptions, not the rule.

I looked at Weld and said, "I'd like to meet the others, if it's not too much trouble."

He nodded, "Alright then, that'll be this way."

We took an elevator down to the first floor where the Wards were located, and he lead me down a series of sterile hallways to a large door and touch panel. Weld took off one of the gloves he was wearing and placed a metal palm to it. The screen flashed green and there was a low beep from the other side of the door.

He pulled the glove back on as he looked at me, "Warning to anyone inside so they can mask up, just in case."

I nodded and looked at the screen curiously, "Um, how did it know it was you if you're…?"

That actually made him laugh, "My body is made of metal but its 'biologically accurate' down to the cellular level. My hands still have fingerprints, they're just made of metal."

Huh, who knew?

The screen flashed again, and the doors slid open to let us inside. The Ward common room was a kitchen living room combo, each individually larger than the first floor of my home.

The common room had polished wooden floors, with angular red furniture neatly arranged on a large blue grey rug that stretched from one end of the 'living room' to the other, stopping just at where the kitchen began. Each set of couches was set up around a knee-high table, one of which was currently littered with empty soda cans, chip bags and - oh my god, where those twinkies!?

Focus Taylor!

With a force of will, I tore my eyes off the twinkies and glanced at the kitchen. It was separated from the living room by a large granite top, a material spread to the rest of the kitchen counters. All the cabinets were made of some sort of dark wood with stainless steel handles and two stainless steel fridges. A similarly armored oven rested between them with a shiny sink set into the countertop and currently filled with dirty dishes.

All in all, it certainly seemed cozy and lived in.

Unfortunately, it was also very occupied. Five sets of eyes all focused on me the moment I stepped through the door, and I froze on the edge of the threshold. There was a moment of painfully awkward silence as I internally panicked. I should say hi, introduce myself, say something! The last two years had done nothing for my social skills, but was I really so out of practice that a simple greeting to a group of people my age was too hard to dredge up!?

Evidently so, as no words came to me. Thankfully, one of the Wards broke the silence.

"Holy shit! I knew she'd been tall, but I didn't think she'd be that god damn tall!"

Weld sighed and glared at the end of the couch, "Hunch, we talked about this. Watch the language. Also, she's standing right here."

The boy, Hunch, was maybe thirteen or fourteen years old? It was hard to tell, his body was a twisted mass of bone and muscle. His left arm was shrunken and practically vestigial while his right was overly long and attached to a bulging shoulder. He was hunched over, which might explain the name, to the point that his head seemed to jut from his chest, and he was dressed very plainly. The only normal part of him was his face, and even that seemed to be stretched abnormally long, with one eye noticeably larger than the other.

He smirked at Weld and held his good hand up to his mouth, "Oh, sorry, let me try again. Holy shit, I knew you'd be tall, but I didn't think you'd be that gosh darn tall! There, better?"

I tried not to blush and shrink in on myself. It was a habit from school, a defense mechanism I used to try and avoid attention. As a plain skinny girl, it worked wonderfully at Winslow. As a nearly seven foot tall walking piece of bubblegum, it probably wouldn't.

Thankfully, there was no time for anyone to register my reaction, as I suddenly found myself surrounded by a trio of young boys, all of them younger than Hunch and practically identical. I flinched back in surprise, I hadn't even heard them move!

"Hiya!" They spoke in unison, in equally excited voices.

"I'm Alfonso!" said the one farthest in the back.

"I'm Carlos!" chimed in the second.

"And I'm Nicholas!" the last one declared proudly. "We're the Trio De Danger! What's your name?"

Carlos cuffed Nicholas upside the head, "We never agreed on that, you know that stupid!"

"You think it's awesome!" Nicholas shot back, "You just won't admit it!"

"Don't lie to me, pendejo!"

Behind them, Alfonso cupped his face and sighed while I just stood there unmoving. A small part of me was convinced that if I started moving again, they would suddenly remember I was there, and then they'd direct their attention back at me.

Thank god, I was saved before that happened. Not by Weld, surprisingly, but by the last inhabitant of the room. A short stout girl came up behind Nicholas and Carlos, grabbed them both by the ear, and yanked on them hard, making all three boys yelp in pain.

"Alright you little turds, that's enough!" she bellowed, and firmly pulled them away from me. "Grab some drinks from the fridge, then come back when you've calmed down, okay?"

Nicholas let loose a few expletives in spanish I had never heard before, prompting the girl to shake him by the ear. "Aiye! Yes, yes, I understand!"

"We understand, Erica!" the other boys agreed.

Satisfied with their answer, she released them and let them scurry off to the kitchen. Then, she turned her gaze on me. She was maybe five foot even, with short black hair that stood out hard against her almost albino colored skin. Her face was lined with acne scars, and dark brown eyes sparkled with mischief, even as she craned her neck back to look up at me.

"So," she said, chewing on something as she spoke, "You're the new Ward, eh?"

I nodded mutely.

She smirked, "Well, my name's Erica. You're Taylor, right?"

Again, I nodded.

"Nice to meet ya," she said, then reached into her pocket and offered something to me.

It took me a minute to recognize it as a stick of gum. I looked at her, brow raised. Weld stared at her with silent disapproval, and Hunch had moved to the edge of the couch watching us with bated breath. I couldn't see the triplets in the kitchen, but I imagine they were eagerly watching. She wore an innocent smile on her face, but her eyes sparkled with mischief, while she very slowly and deliberately blew a giant bubble with the gum she was chewing on. There was a loud pop, and I felt something break.

And then I started to laugh. I couldn't help it, this whole situation felt so absurd, and I'd been so high strung for the last few days that her stupid joke or insult or whatever it was supposed to be broke me. So I laughed and laughed until I was leaning over, hands on my knees and gasping for air.

When I finally calmed down, I stood up and wiped a tear from my eye, while smiling at Erica, "That joke was terrible! Are you sure you're not an undercover supervillain?"

Her lips turned up in a smile, "I'd be a pretty bad villain if I told you that, wouldn't I?"

"I've seen worse," I sighed, and accepted the stick of gum. I didn't actually want it, I couldn't eat gum, but I wasn't going to be rude either.

I slipped it into the pocket of my jacket and said, "Yes, my name is Taylor Hebert, I'm the new Ward here, I think."

"You think?" Hunch spoke up and looked at Weld with mock horror, "Did someone mess up the paperwork again!?"

"It's the only explanation for why you're still here." Erica said dryly.

"Oooh!" the trio chorus'd from the kitchen.

Weld sighed and gestured at them all, "Taylor, these are, unfortunately, the Boston Wards; the majority of them, anyway. Allow me to introduce Hunch and Glacies. The trio in the kitchen are Gestalt. Kelvin and Link are still on patrol and won't be back till later this evening."

I nodded and put on my friendliest smile, "It's nice to meet you all. I guess we'll be working together a lot in the future?"

Hunch looked at Weld dryly, "Let me guess, she's a thinker?"

"Be nice." Weld warned.

Hunch raised his vestigial arm in surrender, "Okay, okay, I'll tone it down."

He looked back at me and smiled, "Sorry if I'm a bit much. When you look like this, everything kind of becomes a joke. Let me know if I take it too far; apparently I'm really bad at knowing when I've crossed a line."

"No line crossed yet," I told him. "Though if you don't mind me asking, what do you all do? I tried doing some research before I got here, but there wasn't a lot of time for it."

"Right, Cape Witness Protection." Hunch said. I shrugged wordlessly. I wasn't sure how much I could talk about my unique circumstances to the Wards yet. I made a mental note to ask Director Armstrong the next time I saw him.

"Well," Hunch started, puffing his chest out the best he could, "I'm a precog. I can look at something, and give you a pretty accurate guestimate at how it ticks. Like you for example."

He cocked his head to the side and his eyes lost focus, "You're… more durable than anyone in this room… you have a sweet tooth that would give a dentist a heart attack… and...that's it." he shook his head, shuddered, and pointedly stared at the ground

I cocked my head to the side and he shrugged, "It varies person to person. I only get vague ideas about people. Sometimes I can get four or five things at once, but a lot of times it's only one or two things. Capes can be hard sometimes, especially if they have weird powers with arbitrary limits." he glanced at the kitchen but said nothing.

"Hunch is mostly mission control." Weld explained, "He gives us field advice, lets us know where we're needed. You'll be hearing him a lot once you start going on patrol."

"Unfortunately." Erica said with a smirk.

Hunch rolled his eyes and sank back into the couch. Erica frowned, almost hesitating before she shrugged and turned to me, "I'm a Master. I can create constructs out of ice and control them remotely. Can't go much bigger than you though, and I can't control more than two or three at a time. As long as I'm directly controlling them, they can operate in normal temperatures. Well, normal Boston temperatures, I haven't tried using them in a desert or anything yet."

At that moment, the triplets returned, dragging in several twelve packs of soda and nearly slamming them on the table. Alfonso came up and offered me a drink, which I gladly took, "And you three? I'm guessing you're some kind of hive mind?"

"Yup!" They said in unison.

"Anything they feel, we feel! We can also look at what the other is thinking or doing, but we can turn it off."

"Thank god," Carlos added, "I'd go insane if I had you two stuck in my head all the time."

"But we're not just a hive mind." Alfonso added. "We also have this really cool ability where we can combine into one person!"

I blinked, "Um, wow. That's… I don't think I've ever heard of a cape with a power like that."

The boy beamed, "It's pretty cool, but we aren't allowed to do it very often."

"Their combined form can only be maintained for a few minutes and afterwards they're almost always unconscious," Weld explained, "And if they're hurt while combined, all three of them carry the injury with them. They're a lot stronger combined, but we only save it for emergencies."

At that, all three boys folded their arms and started muttering darkly under their breath. Obviously they didn't appreciate being stuck on the sidelines.

"So," Erica interjected, clapping her hands together, "We've told you what we can do. But what about you, Bubblegum? What can you do?"

I opened my mouth to respond, when I was interrupted by a beep from Weld. We all turned to look at him; he was checking his phone, and frowning. He slid it back in his pocket and sighed, "Sorry everyone, looks like we'll have to cut things short. They need Taylor to finalize some paperwork. We can finish up introductions tomorrow."

"Aw!" the triplets whined.

Erica snickered and shrugged, "Ah well. Guess we'll have to wait then."

She fixed me with a melodramatic stare, "But for the sake of the triplets, you better be prepared for some hardcore quizzing on what you can do tomorrow."

At that, I actually smiled. "I look forward to it."

-M-​

The rest of my day was nowhere near as exciting as my meeting with the Wards, for better and for worse. Weld did a good job of familiarizing me with the local facilities the PRT HQ had to offer. When we finished with that, he brought me to the people I needed to talk to in order to finalize my paperwork. The one thing I could say for certain about my day was that Weld was one of the most patient people I had ever met. It was a relief to ask someone a question and not have them blow me off or mockingly laugh in my face for it.

That said, when Weld and I finally parted ways, the rest of my day became a struggle. The last week had been nothing but paperwork and bureaucracy, and today proved no different. I was, to be frank, completely over it, even if it was necessary. At one point, I found myself dozing off while an accountant had explained how the PRT would be paying me during my stint at the Wards. This happened again several more times throughout the day, and it took all my effort not to simply collapse onto the floor of my room and go to sleep once it was all over.

My room, my room as a Ward. How weird was that to think about? I certainly didn't feel any different; I still felt like Taylor Hebert, awkward girl extraordinaire. But apparently being turned into pink rubber was enough to qualify, and so here I was.

The room I had been assigned (that felt better), was only a little larger than the one I had at home, which was a surprise. It had a small attached restroom with no shower or bath. Those were, as far as I knew, in the Ward locker room which was connected to the common room. Which of course, made the restroom useless to me as I hadn't actually had to go since my transformation. So there was a positive, I guess.

My new bed was large, though it would have to be to fit me. There was a nightstand on the right hand side, and a dresser on the far wall across from it. A decent sized TV was suspended from the wall above the dresser, but aside from that the room was very bare. According to Weld, I could decorate it and change it as I saw fit in the next few days, so if I wanted I could make it a practical carbon copy of my room at home.

I sighed, tossed my bag on the floor, and flopped backwards onto the bed. Sleep called to me, dragging at the frayed corners of my mind. A quick glance at the digital clock told me it was only 5:23 PM. Which meant dinner had just started up; the thought of food banished any and all thoughts of sleep.

"Calm down, Taylor." I growled even as I sat up and prepared to sprint through the door. A small part of me chafed at this; after all, it had only been five hours or so since my last meal, that was way too long!

I shook my head, annoyed at how easily I was distracted. It would be more polite to wait until the majority of the building had eaten before I went down myself, if only to make sure everyone else had enough to eat in the first place. Of course, this would also mean there were less people staring at me as I inevitably pigged out, but that was absolutely not at the forefront of my mind, honest.

Besides, there was more important business for me to attend to. On my nightstand next to the digital clock, was a landline phone. This made what I needed to do next easier, because I had never owned a cell phone before. I dialed the number to call, picked up the receiver, and anxiously waited for him to pick up, anxiously wrapping the cord around my fingers while I waited.

After the third ring, a tired voice answered, "Hello, this is the Hebert residence, Danny speaking."

"...Hey dad." I said softly.

"Taylor!" my dad's tone did a complete 180, all exhaustion banished to the sidelines, "Oh my god, my little owl, it's so good to hear from you! How are you, is everything going okay in Boston?"

I smiled a little, bitterly amused at the irony. This entire event had done more for our relationship than the two years of grieving we had done since the… the accident. I tore my thoughts away from that and focused on the call.

"Yeah, I made it okay without issue. Director Armstrong seems nice, and the Wards are… special."

"I hope you mean that in a good way." Dad said, half joking.

"They're about what you'd expect from having a bunch of super powered teenagers in one place." I admitted.

"There's a lot of ways to take that, Taylor." Danny said, though his tone was a lot more joking.

"They were nice. A little eccentric, but nice." I clarified. I took a steadying breath and added, "What about you? How're things back in Brockton Bay?"

Dad sighed, "About the same. The ABB and Empire look like they're getting ready to ramp things up, and there was a brief scandal at the PRT. One of the Wards was caught violating their probation, but they're being very hush hush about it. The city is on edge right now."

I tightened my grip on the phone, and pulled the cord tight enough to cut into my fingers. "Are you going to be safe? Have you sold the house yet?"

"No; even if we were in the nicest safest neighborhood in the country, it would take more than a week for me to sell off the house." Dad said, and I could sense the sadness in his voice.

It was a hard thing, giving up our old home. But for this to work, for the both of us to be safe, it was necessary. I had made a mistake in those first few hours after my transformation. I had just walked right into the front door, where plenty of people had seen me. Everyone knew, at bare minimum, that a cape was tied to our home. It was dangerous to stay in Brockton Bay even if you had no cape affiliation. A target on our back that big meant that we simply couldn't stay. That was why I was transferred to Boston; it was why we were giving up our family home.

It didn't alleviate my guilt.

"Dad, I'm… I'm sorry that you had to do that. I know how much the house meant to you, and your job. I…"

"Taylor…" Dad sighed, "at the end of the day, it's just a house. It's just a job. You are the most important thing to me in the world. As long as you're safe, as long as you're happy, then I'm okay with losing the house."

I bit back a bitter remark. He didn't know, and I couldn't blame him for not knowing. About how alone I had been, about the bullying, about everything that happened after the accident. After my mom died. Grief hit everyone differently, I knew that, I understood that. That didn't help with my anger.

Focus Taylor, focus.

"So," Dad mercifully changed the subject, "these Ward's are pretty eccentric, huh? How kooky are we talking?"

I finally grinned, a full fang toothed grin. "Well, first there's the triplets, oh my god you have no idea how excitable these three are…"

And so it went. At least for the next hour or so, I felt normal again.
A/N: As promised, here's the chapter for Friday!

 

[Tontis]

Room and Ward 1.2​

Oh I loved this game!

Tag was so much fun, especially since I was always the fastest whenever we played. The others would try and hide, since they knew I was faster, but that never helped. I always found them, and I always managed to tag them; they never tried chasing me though. That was sad, but they couldn't have caught me anyway.

Three of my playmates ran right now, laughing so hard that some of them were crying! One of them wasn't very good at running, so another was carrying them. I think that was cheating, but that only meant it would be easier for me to tag them.

It took a few jumps, and a run, and I easily caught up to my playmates. They shrieked excitedly and ran between a pair of buildings. I laughed and jumped over them, cutting them off and tagging the biggest one first. He went flying through one of the buildings and didn't move; I don't think he expected me to catch him so quickly.

That's not right...

I turned to the cheaters, and laughed again. If they were going to cheat, than so was I! It was only fair after all. I summoned a glowing pink ball in my open hand, grinned, and flung it at the smaller of my playmates. They both yelled in surprise, but I just laughed. That's what they got for not playing fair!

This is wrong… why am I doing this?

The one carrying the smaller one fell on the ground, crying with laughter again. I jumped over and kicked them onto their back. Oh, that was a fun crunching sound! I did it again, and again, and again, until the crunching stopped. My playmate was so exhausted from laughing that they could barely breathe!

No… no, stop! This isn't right!

I grinned and put a foot on their head. The crunching had been fun, but if I pushed hard enough, I'd get a nice lovely snapping sound, and my playmates would send out all these fun colors all over the ground! My playmate shivered with excitement as I pushed down harder…

No! No! Stop it!

-M-​

"Stop it!"

I screamed and shot up from bed, punching at nightmare visions. There was a loud thump, and a crash. Sanity returned to me, and I sat in bed, panting heavily as I realized that it was all just a dream. Rather, a nightmare honestly. I reached over and turned on the bedside lamp and saw what happened.

In my panic, I had lashed out, and now my left arm was currently impaled through the TV screen. I sheepishly pulled it free of the ruined television, and 'pulled' my limb back, watching it shrink and compress after it had stretched across the entire room. Once it was back in place, I rubbed my arm and let out a shaky breath.

So far, I hadn't found a limit to how malleable my body was; but consciously changing it, stretching it beyond my old normal limits was incredibly difficult. When I lashed out on instinct though…

The tv mount groaned and the entire flat screen broke free of the wall and hit the ground with an ear splitting crash. I flinched and pulled my knees up to my chest. My first night at the PRT, and I'd already caused property damage; lovely.

I glanced at the bedside clock: 2:37 AM. Lovely.

Still shaking a little, I looked down at my hand, opening and closing it as I did. There was no damage to it that I could see; just the usual pink flesh and disturbingly black fingernails. So far, I had yet to come across anything that could truly permanently hurt me. Testing an ability like that was a bit difficult though, and I was in no hurry to find out where the hard limit might be.

Of course, I was trying to (badly) distract myself from the nightmare. Every night I relived a scene like that. A twisted parody of children's games, somehow oblivious to the truth of what was going on, and yet completely and utterly aware of the atrocity I was committing. I had yet to tell anyone about the nightmares, but I had a feeling that dad knew.

I glanced again at the ruined tv on the floor, sighed, and slid out of bed. There was no way I was going back to sleep after an outburst like that. A late night snack and some tea sounded excellent right about now; I wondered if there were any twinkies left and the thought eased my anxiety.

I debated slipping on a sweater and slippers, and decided against it. I was dressed fine in my pajama shirt and sweats, and the cold didn't bother me anyway. Temperature in general seemed to just… not be a problem anymore. I registered the changes, and Boston was clearly colder than Brockton Bay but it just… didn't bug me.

My bedroom door slid open silently and I made my way back to the Ward common room. I can't say that the PRT building was abandoned, but at least in my section of the building, it felt like it. One thing that had been drilled into me once I had decided to join the Wards, was that Ward's didn't take part in late night patrols. After nine, we were off the street with no debate on the subject. Only full members of the Protectorate could operate at any hour of the day, and I wasn't really in any rush to change that. I liked my sleep, thank you very much.

I yawned at the door to the common room. My mind was still racing, but my body felt heavy and tired. My bed had been so comfy, and sleep felt so tempting, even with the promise of nightmares.

A solid metal 'thunk' startled me awake, and I realized I had nearly fallen asleep against the door. I laughed nervously, hoped no one had seen me, and placed my hand on the scanner. As a soon-to-be full member of the Wards, I had already been added into the database for non-essential rooms like the common room. Not sure how they had added my signature to the pad since I apparently lacked fingerprints now, but I chalked it up to tinkertech science.

The doors slid open with a quiet hiss and I stepped inside and went straight for the kitchen. It took all of my will not to rush the fridge and pour out its contents. My stomach rumbled its protest, but I ignored it and went for the cabinets instead. I found the tea bags and a kettle easily enough, and started some water on the electric stove.

Then I rushed the fridge and practically poured out its contents onto the kitchen counter. Okay, not literally, I didn't think I was that strong, but I might as well have. Cartons of ice cream rolled as ripped open a bag of popsicles and practically shoved them down my throat.

"Mmmm!" I giggled and bounced on my heels. So good, so sweet and chillingly refreshing, it woke me right up! I bit down and pulled the popsicle stick free of the ice and swallowed it whole. Then I opened another, rinse and repeat until I had nearly emptied the box.

As I opened my mouth wide and wrapped my tongue around a delicious tasting cherry red popsicle, I heard a voice behind me. "Um, okay, wow. Didn't expect to see that tonight."

I froze, and my eyes flicked to the side toward my ambusher. A guy, maybe a year or two older than me, was sitting at the island with a very confused expression on his face. He had very dark skin, and equally dark hair. His eyes were an amazingly bright blue, easily the most striking feature about him. Otherwise he was a fairly average looking african american boy.

Of course, who was I to judge anyone when it came to how they looked? Especially as I was now, with my neon blue tongue cartoonishly wrapped around a popsicle, and probably covered in a mess of popsicle juice.

I was so nervous that I wound up swallowing the entire damn popsicle whole, stick and all. The guy flinched, "Ouch, that had to hurt."

I rubbed my throat, "Er, um, not really. I'm kind of… stretchy."

A very quick look over myself alleviated my fears. I'd had enough self control to keep from ruining my clothes in my feeding frenzy, at least. Though judging by the guy's amused expression, my face was probably a literal rainbow of colors.

I grabbed a paper towel and started wiping at my face. I didn't take my eyes off him as I did, and asked, "I, um… don't think we met earlier today. I'm Taylor, the new Ward."

He smiled, "I had a feeling; you can call me Rory, or Kelvin. Either or, I'm not picky."

Oh shit.

Way to go Taylor, not only did you manage to look like an idiot in front of one of your teammates, you looked like an idiot in front of your team leader. I started hastily grabbing wrappers, as I felt my face burn an even deeper shade of pink.

"O-oh!" I stuttered, "Sorry, I didn't… I just needed a snack, and it can be so… just let me clean this up."

Kelvin laughed, resting his head against his hand, "Oh my god, Taylor, it's fine. We're fine, you don't need to freak out. I know all about your condition, I read about it when I knew you were coming. Even if I hadn't, Weld gave me a headsup, I knew what to expect."

I paused again, and didn't feel my blush go away, "Ah. Okay… I… should still clean up."

"Well yeah," he agreed, "But you don't need to freakout. I'm not some mechanical hardass that's gonna kick you out on the streets because you have a sweet tooth. Why do you think we had six boxes worth of popsicles in the fridge in the first place?"

That actually made me stop and think. That had, briefly, occurred to me before I'd started stuffing my face. But once I started eating, anything that wasn't related to the food at hand tended to get shoved into the 'not important' category of my mind.

"I thought they were for everyone?" I said tentatively.

Kelvin shrugged, "Well yeah. But I made sure we had extra, so we'd be prepared."

He looked at the score of plastic wrappers, scattered across the kitchen as if some sort of tiny condiment and dessert based war had ravaged the kitchen, and sighed, "Obviously, I made the right call."

"Sorry." I said.

"Don't sweat it," he assured me, "Everyone has their little quirks. People just have it a little rougher, with the whole power thing, but you can't really hold it against them. Besides, I've run into a lot stranger things in here than a pretty pink monster girl enjoying a late night snack."

The harsh shrill whistle of steam filled the air, and I whirled toward the tea kettle… which was still; silently sitting on the stove. Kelvin let out a stifled laugh, and I covered my arms in embarrassment. Steam had started pouring from the rows of holes lining my biceps in such quantities that it was very quickly filling the kitchen. Those tiny holes were one of the few things in my new biology I often forgot about, and I think they didn't appreciate that.

I covered them with my hands and ignored the muffled muffled whistling coming from my back and legs. Kelvin was covering his mouth and trying hard not to laugh, "Does that… happen often?" he choked.

"Only when I'm angry, I thought." I muttered quietly.

Kelvin got his laughter under control, reducing it to a quiet tittering, and grinned at me, "Okay, now that's definitely in my top twenty strangest things I've seen in here. Didn't realize I could fluster you that easy, sorry about that."

"It's fine." I grumbled, and slowly released my hands from my arms. The steam had stopped, thank god. I tried to ignore the reason why that had started up in the first place, and focused on an inconspicuous part of the floor instead of trying to look Kelvin in the face.

"Anyway, why are you here? It's late." I said.

He caught on to what I was saying, and I could hear the shrug in his voice, "I have insomnia. I was awake anyway, figured I'd come in and put a movie on. Easier to fall asleep in here than in my room. What about you? Insomnia another list on your conditions, or were you just craving a midnight snack?"

I reached behind me, grabbed a carton of ice cream, and pulled the top off while I debated how to answer his question. Relatively truthfully, I decided as I found a spawn and started snacking.

"Bad dreams. Couldn't sleep. Food calms me down, though god knows why. I was a pretty modest eater before… this." I gestured at my whole body, and shoved a big spoonful of ice cream in my mouth as if to emphasize my point.

Kelvin looked at me sympathetically, "Sorry if this is prying, but… is it you're trigger event? I know some people, especially early on, can have a lot of trauma related to it. I can pull a few strings and get you setup with our therapist, if you'd like."

I made a face and shook my head, "No thank you. I appreciate the offer, but… I'd rather just settle in before I left anyone start poking around in my head."

He frowned, but nodded, "Alright. Offers on the table though, if you ever change your mind."

I sighed, and swallowed another scoop of ice cream. Mmm, moose tracks. It was like vanilla with a fun little surprise in every bite.

The kettle started to whistle, this time it was definitely the kettle, and I turned towards it, stopping for a moment to look at Kelvin, "You want any?"

"Not a big fan, but I'll take a cup if you're offering."

I nodded, and grabbed two mugs from the cabinets. Tea was odd in that my sweet tooth seemed to have no affect on my tastes when it came to the drink. It was one of the few things in my life I could consider completely normal and untouched. Needless to say, I held onto that steaming mug like my life depended on it.

I offered it to Kelvin, who graciously accepted it before jerking a thumb at the tv. "You wanna watch with me? I don't get a lot of company at this hour."

I paused, taken aback by the offer. So far, everyone at the Boston PRT and Ward's had been… nice. Not just polite, but actually genuinely nice, and this threw me for a loop. I was used to, at most, one genuinely nice person per organization. Now it seemed I couldn't take two steps before tripping over someone with genuine human decency. Of course a cynical part of my mind thought he might just be offering this as a chance to lead me on, as a sick joke by making me think he'd want into my pants.

Another, far less cynical part of my mind thought the exact same thing without the joke, and my body threatened to let loose some steam again.

I shook my head free of the clouds and looked at him seriously, "It depends, what kind of movies?"

"Ever heard of Star Trek?"

-M-​

I wanted to go back to the nightmares. Anything was preferable to the horror that I had been dragged into once morning had come around.

Weld had warned me ahead of time that I was going to meet with the head of the PRT PR Department in the morning, so I had gone in expecting the worst. Evidently, my expectations needed some tuning, I hadn't been prepared for this.

Glenn Chambers, the head of the PR department, was an… odd man. His sense of fashion could best be described as a disaster, and yet despite it, he had an air about him that kept catching me off guard. He was intense and laser focused, completely at odds with how he presented himself, and it left me reeling for the start of our meeting.

The fact that he'd had his assistants poke, prod, and measure me while he asked me simple and benign questions didn't help. Yes I know why they did it, but that didn't mean I enjoyed it. At least my nightmares were predictable; standing up on the pedestal, I didn't know what to expect next from Mr. Chambers.

He rubbed his chin as he looked me over. I had to be quite a sight; I was dressed plainly as always, grey sweatshirt and jeans, and cheap sneakers. The contrast with my physical appearance definitely was enough to make anyone double take when they saw me.

"Hm, I won't deny, Miss Hebert. You're unique appearance opens as many potential doors as it closes. On the one hand, anyone that sees you certainly won't forget you, but this is as much of a problem as it is a boon."

I cocked my head slightly to the side, only for one of his assistants to make an annoyed noise, firmly move it back in place, and resume measuring me. In response, I flicked him in the face with the end of my tendril, and earned another grunt of annoyance that made me smirk just a little.

I swear, Mr. Chambers eyes flashed at our exchange. "Take that, for example. You understand, Miss Hebert, that your every action will be closely watched and scrutinized by the public, yes? An average cape is watched like a hawk during their debut. Capes like you and Weld are going to forever be held under laser focus."

"I...understand that." I said, and felt butterflies in my stomach. I think a part of me had always understood that, but having someone spell it out was unpleasant.

Mr. Chambers nodded and his expression softened, "Good. You seem like an intelligent young woman, that will make this easier."

He folded his arms, "Now, back to business. From what I understand, your abilities allow you to manifest articles of clothing as need be, is that correct?"

I felt the blush on my face again, and coughed nervously, "Er, yes and no? I have manifested an outfit, but if I can make others, I haven't figured it out yet."

"May we see it? It could give us an idea for your future costume."

"Oh god, do I have to?" I asked, making no effort to hide the embarrassment in my voice.

Mr. Chambers face grew more serious, "Your costume and cape identity may very well define who you are to the public for the rest of your life. And given the uniqueness of your situation, your cape identity will be who you are outside of private interactions. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, Taylor Hebert no longer exists."

There were the butterflies again. But again, Mr. Chambers made an excellent point. I was in the cape equivalent of witness protection. I knew going in that I would be assigned a new identity and that to the world, I would be presented as a Case 53. On an intellectual level, I knew this, but it was still hard to fathom that I could never really take the mask off. If I ever just wanted to go in public, be it for a food run, to visit the library, or visit dad at work, the world would know me as a cape.

I sighed, "Okay, okay, I understand. Can I use the changing room?"

Mr. Chambers nodded and gestured at his assistants. They finally released me, and I scurried inside. Once the door clicked shut, I locked it and stripped off my clothes. I avoided looking at the full length mirror included inside the changing room, and shut my eyes tight. Suppressing the 'clothes' I had first woken up in was much harder than letting them take shape over my body.

My skin tingled and churned, and I felt 'cloth' settling over my frame. It was bizarre, because I knew for a fact that the clothes were just an extension of myself. It may look, act and feel like clothes, but when I had taken scissors to them to test it, it had revealed that no, they were in fact made of the same material as I was. And yet, I definitely didn't feel naked as they settled into place. Just really, really stupid.

I opened the door and stepped out, arms spread. "Okay, here it is. Happy?"

One of his assistants covered their mouth in a mix of horror and amusement. "Oh my god, that's terrible."

I was inclined to agree.

Oversized baggy white pants hung from my waist, supported only by a black belt with a golden belt buckle, and ending at a pair of bright yellow boots. A black vest lined with golden trim hung from my shoulders, with nothing underneath it. The fact that even in my new form, I had no real assets to accentuate it this was a bitter pill that I refused to swallow. My hands were covered in hideous yellow mittens and a purple cape was loosely tied around my neck and fell to the back of my knees. If Glenn Chambers was a fashion disaster, then I was an atrocity.

Even his normally unflappable expression paused at the sight of me, and he scratched at his temple with a sheepish look on his face, "Oh my, that's… quite something. I think we can safely rule this outfit out as a possibility. I am many things, but I am not a cruel man. Before you change back though, may I ask you a quick question Miss Hebert?"

I folded my arms over my (nonexistent!) chest and hunched forward, "Yeah, sure, make it quick please."

"Did you ever want to be a hero?"

I blinked, again thrown off my expectations. Yet, I had no trouble answering Mr. Chambers in the slightest. "Yes. Of course. My… friend and I used to stay up all night talking about what we would do, our codenames, our powers. I used to be a real cape groupie for the longest time. Being able to help, to protect people from danger is something I've wanted to do for a long time."

He nodded, in that knowing way, and waved me off, "You're free to change back, I just had to sate my curiosity."

I wasted no time rushing back inside, willing away that hideous outfit, and pulling on my plain and sane clothing. When I stepped back out, I noticed that the assistants were gone, and that Mr. Chamber's was sitting on the pedestal I had been standing on.

He rubbed his hands on his knees and sighed, "We have the measurements we need for your costume designs, they weren't needed for these next parts, though I assure you they're just as important."

I bit my lip, "Okay, how important?"

"Miss Hebert, know first that you have the final call on this, but… I think it would be in your best interest if we resumed your education in a public setting."

My heart skipped a beat and my blood ran cold, "I'm sorry, what!?"

"Let me explain." He interrupted, with a surprisingly firm voice.

I kept from interrupting him, but only barely. My blood was quickly warming to its boiling point. Was he insane!? Why on earth would I ever go back to school, especially looking how I did!?

"As you are, Miss Hebert, people are going to find it harder to understand you. To sympathize with you. The greatest challenge monstrous, and I apologize for the term, capes face, is fear and mistrust from the public. You aren't like them, you remind them that cape's are different. People are afraid of things that are outside the mold. My job, is to fix that, to make sure that people see you simply as a person who happens to look a little different. This is why our other two case 53's, I believe you've met them, both attend public school together. By seeing them not just in a work setting, but struggling through the same trials and tribulations that the average person goes through, the people in this city are more likely to trust and empathize with Weld and Hunch, instead of ostracize them."

"You do know about the school I'm from, right?" I asked. I didn't disagree with his point, but the idea of putting myself out there like that again genuinely scared me. If I went back to school only to find another Trio ready to make my life hell…

"And that's why I'm leaving the choice in your hands." Glenn said. "We can't make you attend public school. Your education ultimately falls to the decision of you and your father. But, I felt I needed to recommend this to you, specifically because of your past. At the very least, give it a chance, put yourself out there so that the people can see you as a person. If you do, and you feel at all that it isn't working or that the situation may develop similar to the one you were in at Winslow, tell us, inform us. The PRT and Protectorate exist not just to protect the innocent and powerless, but to protect capes from the public. We are a resource, don't hesitate to use us."

Like I said, I wanted to go back to the nightmares.

I swallowed and nodded slowly, "Okay. I'll… think about it, Mr. Chambers. But I don't promise anything."

"That's all I ask." Glenn said. He pushed himself up to his feet and dusted himself off, "Now, onto another important matter. I gave your name some thought, and while I have nothing concrete, I definitely have a theme picked out for you. We can work out the basics, and should have something ready for your public appearance on Friday."

Thankful for the change in subject, I smiled a little, "Okay, humor me. What name have you picked out?"

He grinned, "How does… Djinn, sound?"

A/N: Sorry I missed Monday. This virus shit is getting crazy.

 

[mayorGoliat]

I froze, and my eyes flicked to the side toward my ambusher. A guy, maybe a year or two older than me, was sitting at the island with a very confused expression on his face. He had very dark skin, and equally dark hair. His eyes were an amazingly bright blue, easily the most striking feature about him. Otherwise he was a fairly average looking african american boy.

Of course, who was I to judge anyone when it came to how they looked? Especially as I was now, with my neon blue tongue cartoonishly wrapped around a popsicle, and probably covered in a mess of popsicle juice.

Click to shrink...

Fun mental image. Especially for QQ.

 

[TheMidnightRook]

Oversized baggy white pants hung from my waist, supported only by a black belt with a golden belt buckle, and ending at a pair of bright yellow boots. A black vest lined with golden trim hung from my shoulders, with nothing underneath it. The fact that even in my new form, I had no real assets to accentuate it this was a bitter pill that I refused to swallow. My hands were covered in hideous yellow mittens and a purple cape was loosely tied around my neck and fell to the back of my knees.

Click to shrink...

Huh, and here I was expecting her to look like Majin 21.

 

[Tontis]

Huh, and here I was expecting her to look like Majin 21.

Click to shrink...

Nah, Android 21 isn't a Majin, she just has majin cells. Kind like how even though Cell has saiyan cells, he's not a saiyan. Also, Taylor is quite literally in control of Majin Buu in this story; not a Majin, The Majin.

Fun mental image. Especially for QQ.

Click to shrink...

...Fucking damn it, hindsight is a bitch

 

[Tontis]

Room and Ward 1.3​

"Let the record show that Miss Hebert just passed ten tons on the pull strength test." a voice crackled over the intercom. "Miss Hebert, as a reminder, if you start to feel overwhelmed, do not hesitate to press the emergency stop trigger."

I grunted my acknowledgement, flashing a look at the two buttons on either end of the handles I had firmly grasped in both hands. After my appointment with Glenn, I had been ushered into the Power Testing Range. I was told there were larger and more specialized facilities across the country to truly test my limits, but Boston had some of the largest and well funded on the east coast, just behind New York.

We'd been at this for about an hour now, brushing up on details that the ENE branch hadn't had time to test me on. As I had gone through each test, I started to wonder if they might regret trading me away. I was incredibly fast now, they'd seen me break sixty miles per hour in the speedway in under three seconds. I could bend steel into circles, shatter concrete with a good punch, and now I was pulling the equivalent of a truck, and I hadn't even broken a sweat. As odd looking as it was, my new body kind of kicked ass.

"Keep this up, and you'll break Weld's record." Erica added over the intercom, clearly amused. She had shown up right as I started the pull test, and seemed content to provide a running commentary. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it a little.

A grin spread over my face, "Oh?" I grunted, and took another slow step forward, "And what is his record?"

"I dunno, I think it's like twenty tons or something? They never let us go to the top of our limits, something about a 'risk of horrific physical injury'."

"Miss Evens," I heard one of the...testers? PRT People? One of the Researchers scolded her, "We are content to let you watch, but please keep the chatter to a minimum while the test is in progress."

I looked over to my left at the observation window. Certain tests, like this one, had their own private rooms built in case of a mechanical failure. If the steel cables I was hauling snapped, there was enough force behind them that they'd probably take a limb off. So everyone that wasn't me was safely stationed behind a nice solid metal wall with shatterproof glass acting as their only view in. That and probably a dozen or so camera's hidden around the room. Those were the ones I noticed when I walked in anyway.

"Your last name is… Evens?"

Silence over the intercom. I felt something I hadn't felt since before I'd started going to high school. A small spark of harmless mischievous intent that I found difficult to extinguish. I shook my head and frowned a little. Warmth followed the feeling and filled my chest. What was happening to me, was I being affected by my powers?

I shifted my focus to my new goal, beating Weld's record, and ignored the feeling. "I'm ready for more weight!" I yelled.

"Understood Miss Hebert, increasing weight to eleven tons."

I heard the sound of a door opening and glanced toward the observation room. Kelvin walked in, dressed casually. Erica turned toward the sound and rolled her eyes. I don't think she realized she was leaning on the intercom button. "Hello, Rory. What a surprise seeing you here today."

"I'm just inspecting the troops." he replied, casually. I felt my face flush and I ducked my head. I had changed into a tank top and sweatpants for the testing, and even though I knew I hadn't been sweating from my workout, I still looked myself over for sweat stains.

"Ugh, you need to stop watching those stupid Aleph movies."

"You know you love it."

"You're handsome, but you're nowhere near as funny as you think you are."

"Ah, but you can't ignore my charm anyway, can you Erica?"

Wait.

Wait.

What!?

My mind raced, jumping to a thousand conclusions at once, none of them particularly pleasant. My concentration shattered with an ear splitting crack followed by high pressured whistling. It took me a moment to realize that the noise was not my mind breaking; I had lost focus and the cables I'd been pulling had snapped back in an instant, and torn both my arms off in the process. Oh, and I was steaming again, though this time it was definitely anger.

"Oh my god!" someone screamed.

"Miss Hebert, please, remain calm! We'll have medical staff down as soon as possible!"

"Taylor, are you okay!?" that was Kelvin and Erica at once.

I set my jaw hard and glared at them both (mostly Kelvin), and sneered, "I'm fine. Really, perfectly okay."

The door rooms opened and several test people ran in with concern on their faces, along with Erica and Kelvin. "Where the fuck are those medics!?" someone yelled.

The only one not freaking out was Erica. Obviously she could tell from my reaction, that having my limbs torn off hadn't really phased me. In fact, I had barely even felt it when it happened, even though this was the first time I had lost a limb.

Christ, how weird was my life, right?

"Someone find her arms, where did they go?"

"Miss Hebert, I… you're not bleeding."

I turned and looked down at one of the researchers, "Well… yeah. You guys did read the part of my file that said 'nonexistent human biology' right? The guys at Brockton are pretty sure I'm just living goop."

"Aiiieeeee!" someone screamed, and we all turned to the far wall. The researchers had evidently found my arms, and as I had expected, they were making their way back towards me in a weird oozing crawling motion. This didn't surprise me, I was familiar with how… autonomous my body could be when I wasn't directly attached to my bits and pieces, especially after an unfortunate incident with a door and my head tendril.

If a part of my body was separated from me, it would automatically try to return to me so I could heal. I could feel their presence and sensations on the edge of my mind and if I focused, I knew I could take control of them. No point now though, they both oozed up to my feet. One grabbed my ankle, and smoothly melted into my skin and vanished. At the same time, my right arm reformed, and I grabbed the remaining limb and lifted it to my left stump, where it quickly reattached itself.

When the process finished, I looked at everyone surrounding me, and felt decidedly sheepish. Several of the researcher's looked pale, and one even ran out of the room and retched into a trash can. I closed my eyes, sighed, and said, "I'd like a break please."

I was out the door before I heard any response, taking special care to avoid Kelvin and Erica. Once I was in the hall, I grabbed at my 'hair' and let out a noise of frustration.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

The moment a boy showed me any sort of positive attention, my mind had jumped straight to… well things it shouldn't have. Best case scenario, he had just been trying to be nice. Worst case scenario, he and Erica were a thing and he just so happened to be one of those guys with like six different girlfriends. Well, I assumed there were guys like that, I'd read about them anyway. The point was, I'd made an assumption, and looked like a fool for it.

I retreated to my room, my safe place. Somewhere I could be hidden from the watching, judging eyes of the entire PRT and Wards. All too familiar memories of Winslow flashed through my mind as my dorm room door slid open and I rushed inside. My breathing felt short, panicked, my chest tight. I sat on the floor, my back against my bed and stared at the door, breathing frantically as a dozen scenarios flashed through my mind.

Was it an elaborate joke? Had Erica set this up just so she and Kelvin could laugh at how much of an idiot I was? Did she even know about our movie night? If she did and it wasn't a joke, was she going to hate me like everyone else did? Oh god please no, this was exactly what I was afraid of when I joined the Ward's, stupid high school drama bullshit!

Steam poured from me in billowing clouds, and I clutched at my head, grinding my teeth together hard. Emotions flashed through my mind in a whirlwind of anger, embarrassment, hate, and depression which all came together to assault me. I wanted to kick my door down and scream at them for messing with me like that, to make them know just how hurt I felt!

I growled and glared at the door. "Stupid… stupid…"

There was a loud knock at the door, and my world snapped back into place. Suddenly I was able to wrestle my emotions back under control, and I no longer felt the seething flow of bitterness that had been rolling over me. I looked around my room, amazed at the literal fog bank it had been engulfed in.

"Oh my god…" I rested a hand on my head. Maybe a visit to the therapist wouldn't be such a bad idea.

Again, there was a knock at my door. My head jerked up in surprise, "Y-yes? Who is it?"

"Hey Taylor, it's Erica. You have a minute to talk? You rushed out of there pretty quickly."

She made you look stupid, don't talk to her. A small voice whispered in my head. I tried to ignore it; I was a rational young woman, I was not going to turn into a vindictive drama queen over a boy I just met. Even if he did have beautiful eyes, great taste in movies, and was super nice. I shook my head furiously and more steam puffed into the air.

"Give me a minute!" I called, and got to my feet. I walked up to the door and opened it, letting clouds of steam roll out into the hall.

Erica blinked and stepped back, waving curls of it away from her face, "Whew, it's a sauna in there. Were ya lucky enough to get your own private shower?"

I looked down at her impassively. I would deal with this like an adult, not like a hormonal teenager. Wait, did I even have hormones anymore? As far as I knew, I didn't even have a proper nervous system, how would that-?

Focus! Adult, rational, focused young woman, that's what you are, Taylor.

I took in a deep breath, and said calmly, "So are you and Kelvin an item?"

Erica blinked, looked up at me, and laughed out loud, "Haha! Oh god, that's… that's good…That's funny Taylor."

When I didn't laugh, her expression shifted from amused to amazed, "Oh my god, you're serious. Is that why you were upset?"

I shrugged my shoulders, and Erica sighed, rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand, "No, we're not an item; Taylor, Rory is aromantic, he doesn't do relationships. At best he might try to get into your pants, but the guy is absolutely clueless when it comes to talking to girls."

She paused and rubbed her chin, "Actually, now that I think about it, maybe he's just really deep in the closet. Wouldn't surprise me."

My mind was spinning now, and I felt my face flushing again. I tentatively twisted my fingers together, "Oh, so that was just… friendly banter then?"

She snorted, "You think you're the first person that tried to hook up with him? Yeah, it's kind of a game. First one to make the other blush wins. Have to keep it PG around the staff and kids though."

My face must've been pretty amusing because she laughed again and patted my shoulder… er, bicep. I was easily two feet taller than her and she had to reach up on her toes to do that much. I rubbed my head awkwardly and stared down at my feet; at least it wasn't some cruel joke being played on me, I could take solace in that.

Erica's face twisted to concern, "Jeez, Brockton Bay was not kind to you, was it?"

"It's a shithole." I hissed through clenched teeth. I quickly squashed my anger before it could flare up, and ran my hands over my face. "Oh god, this was not how I wanted my first day to go."

At least Erica seemed sympathetic to my plight. "You wanna talk about it?"

"I'm not talking about Brockton Bay."

"I meant anything. I know how nasty things are for new capes, it can be good to vent." she looked past me into my steam filled room, and smirked. "Pun intended."

I snorted, "I'm just not used to… this. I think I'm still reeling from all the changes, and it's making me over-sensitive."

Either that, or it was my new body; neither option held any appeal. I had lived in Brockton Bay all my life, and while it was definitely a shithole, it had still been home. Moving was harder than I thought, and I still felt like I was just living in a dream. Complete with embarrassing clothes and horrific maiming, so less dream and more nightmare.

Erica let out a sigh that was filled with relief, "Gonna be honest, this is kind of a relief. I thought you were freaked out over the being disarmed like that. The 'freaking out over new powers' phase is never fun to help a cape through."

I arched a brow at her, "You sound experienced with that."

"I've been here since I was ten. I'm the most senior member of the Ward's." she waved a finger in the air in mock celebration.

I looked at her with newfound interest, "Since you were ten? Why aren't you the leader then?"

"Because I'm an ugly abrasive bitch." she shrugged, "I've also turned it down. I don't like the whole leadership thing."

I could understand that. The idea of being in charge of a group, having to handle all the clashing personalities and powers while also keeping them alive and safe while fighting villains… yeah the thought of it made my stomach churn. That or I was getting hungry again; I wondered idly if the cafeteria would be open before shelving the thought. A more important thought came to mind.

"So…" I asked, making no attempt to hide my nervousness, "What did you tell Rory?" that felt weird to say. He was the team leader, so it made sense to stick with his cape name.

"Hmm? Oh, that you probably were stressed and that I'd handle you." Erica said. "If Weld was here, I'd let him handle you but he's on patrol so here I am, here to lend you a helping hand after you were disarmed and making sure you can keep a firm grip on reality."

I narrowed my eyes, thoroughly unamused, "How long were you thinking of those puns?"

She grinned, "Oh if I had to go out on a limb, probably the moment you lost your arms. A good pun can help a lot I've found."

That was highly debatable, but I didn't have enough experience with 'humor' to debate her on the merits of jokes. I settled for folding my arms and shaking my head instead. "Well, I do appreciate you coming to check on me and clearing things up. I should probably talk to Kelvin and… I dunno, let him know I'm okay?"

"Tell him you were annoyed by the flirting." Erica suggested. "Like I said, the man is totally clueless with girls; he doesn't get us. He can handle us fine if he ignores the funbags, but the moment he looks at our chests, his mind goes total lizard-brain."

She made a point to look at my nearly flat chest and made another impish grin. I scowled at her, "One word, and we'll find out just how strong I really am."

"I didn't say a thing." she raised her hands in mock surrender.

I folded my arms a little tighter around my chest and sighed, "You are right though, I should let him know I don't appreciate it. You're sure he'll be okay with it?"

"Oh absolutely. He might be terrible with girls, but he's leader for a reason." Erica assured me. Her eyes lit up suddenly and she grabbed my arm.

"Wait, before you do that though, have you met any of the Protectorate members on base yet?" she asked.

I shook my head; I knew that, unlike in Brockton Bay, the Protectorate had no 'official' HQ in Boston. They operated out of the various PRT departments, and worked very closely with them and the police. So they had no equivalent of the Rig, which was a little disappointing; I always wanted to see the inner workings of the Rig, and never got to even when I joined the Wards.

Erica's grin returned, "Okay, then you should totally come with me. Fae is going to love meeting you."

I cocked my head to the side, "Who's Fae?"

-M-​

As it turned out, Fae was the resident tinker of the Boston branch of the Protectorate. Erica had skimmed the details, but apparently she was a support tinker. Nothing truly combat focused, but a lot of her gear saw use by the Protectorate in Boston. She was also apparently developing into something of a minor local celebrity. Bastion may be the leader of the Protectorate here in Boston, but Fae had very quickly become the face.

Her workshop dominated the majority of the top floor of the PRT HQ, and was locked behind several blast doors with enough security to make a bank jealous. Erica's clearance got us through without issue, and we stepped into a basketball court sized workshop. Now, when I thought of a tinker workshop, I typically expected a lot of half finished machines hanging from chains, maybe counters covered in designs and projects and a general 'lived in' feel. Blame Hollywood, but that was the general perception I think a lot of people had of the stereotypical Tinker lab.

Fae's lab was the opposite. It was a spotless, clinical white, with wide open spaces and counters and tables only lining the walls. Soft LED lights illuminated the room, casting soft shadows against the floor and walls. Along the counters and tables, tools were neatly arranged in categorical organization, typically largest to smallest. There were a few unfinished projects, but most of them were suspended mid air somehow, and were typically surrounded by what looked like diagnostic machines. Orchestral music, I couldn't figure out what kind, played quietly in the background over the humming and beeping of the machines.

Erica cleared her throat and cupped her hands to her mouth, "Hey Fae, you in here!?"

There was a crash of tools and a woman yelped. I looked around for any sign of her, and saw nothing. Maybe she was testing a cloaking device of some kind? A woman cursed, and I realized where it was coming from and slowly looked upwards.

In a practical mirror image of the floor, there was a near symmetrical recreation of the lab built into the ceiling, complete with floating incomplete devices. One such device, an odd looking loom of some kind, was manned by a very tall and lithe young woman, maybe in her twenties? She had pale skin, bright blue eyes and her bright red hair was styled into a pixie cut. A long blue cloak and hood hung from her shoulders and she wore an armored bodysuit that was a slightly lighter shade of blue. A golden belt was wrapped around her waist along with a pair of shimmering boots and bracers. Lines of some sort of language ran up her side in a circuitry pattern and pulsed with power. If I had to guess, this was Fae.

She sighed and dropped whatever she was working on and looked… down? Up? At us. "Hello Erica, you startled- Oh!"

Fae jumped to her feet when she saw me and her eyes sparkled with unbridled curiosity, "Oh my gosh! You must be Taylor! One moment, please, I'm so sorry for the mess!"

I looked around the spotless workshop, then back up at her, "It's… um, no problem. You're Fae, right?"

"Yes, yes, that's me!" she nodded frantically and adjusted a dial built into her belt buckle. She bent her knees and pushed off the ceiling with slow gentle grace, floating through the air as though it were water, and angling her feet so they were pointed toward the floor. Once she was a foot or so off the ground, she adjusted the dial again and gravity resumed its hold on her.

The moment her feet touched the ground, she rushed up to me with an almost manic grin on her face, "Oh, it is so good to finally meet you Taylor! I can call you Taylor, right?" she asked, excitedly shaking my hand as she spoke. "I read all about your file, everything you went through at Brockton, you poor thing, I'm so glad you're here with us! Has everything been okay? The Ward's are you treating you well I hope, you're getting enough to eat, have you met the other members of the Protectorate yet, has Director Armstrong already introduced himself to you? I see you've met Erica, thank you for bringing her Erica, I've been in a fugue the past few days, this is a good distraction! Oh look at me, I'm rambling again, so sorry, once I get going I just have a hard time stopping!"

The whole time she never stopped shaking my hand, to the point that I was afraid she was going to tear it off. My eyes felt like they were spinning in their sockets and once she stopped talking and finally released my hand, the entire world looked like it was moving in slow motion compared to her.

She bounced back a step and clasped her hands together in front of her waist, popping up and down on her heels with that excited smile on her face. I realized she was finally letting me speak; my tendril twitched and I rubbed my hand to get some feeling back into it.

"Er, well to answer your questions in order: yes, you can call me Taylor, everything is fine so far, the Ward's are treating me fine, I am actually still hungry, Director Armstrong met me on arrival, and you're the first Protectorate member I've met."

Fae snorted, "Oh well that figures. Bastion's too 'high and mighty' to come off patrol and say hi to a new Ward. I'm so glad to hear you're being treated well though, the last week must have been insane for you."

"You have no idea." I muttered.

"Oh I can imagine, I've been there." Fae laughed, "I had just graduated from the Ward's when Erica joined us, she's always done such a good job introducing new ward's to everyone!"

I glanced at Erica, who suddenly seemed interested in her shoes. Her face had turned an angry shade of red and white splotches lighting up her acne scars. "Fae, please…"

"Am I rambling again?" Fae asked.

We both nodded.

Her shoulders slumped, "Oh… dang it. Sorry, I get so excited sometimes. Well, I assume if you brought Taylor here, you want me to get her fitted for a gravity belt, right?"

I blinked, "I'm sorry, a… what?"

Erica covered her face and groaned while Fae bounced excitedly, "My gravity belts! It's my speciality, I can build devices that manipulate gravitational forces in a small area. No more than a few feet normally, and the power requirements are crazy! I did some work with Armsmaster - who is a total asshole, by the way - to figure out a smaller power source and once we got that figured out, I was able to start making gravity belts for everyone! Basically, I can give you the ability to fly! It's super useful, but you do need permission from central to use them in the field. Some of the parents get nervous about you kids using tinker tech in the field. I mean I get it but if they're nervous about you getting hurt, why put you in the Ward's in the first place, it's not like there aren't schools or tutors out there that cater to parahuman kids or something, it just seems really short sighted to me, ya know?"

And on she went, to the point that I wondered how the hell she breathed. I turned to Erica as Fae went off on a tangent about the place of Parahuman teenagers in modern cape society. I am fairly certain I was glowering at Erica, because she looked equal parts amused and terrified. "You brought me here just for this, didn't you?"

She smiled nervously, "Everyone has to suffer through it at least once Taylor."

 

[Tontis]

Room and Ward 1.4​

After my visit to Fae, the rest of my day was slow by comparison. I had more paperwork to fill out, and when I wasn't doing that, I was taking emergency first aid classes. Wards were required to have knowledge in basic first aid, along with a full education of police and emergency services protocols. We weren't expected to fight, but if the adults were dragged into a brawl with a super villain, we would be put on civilian evacuation duty, and the number of different scenarios that fell under that were truly staggering.

By the end of the day, my brain felt like it was on fire and I happily fell into bed and went to sleep. I had no nightmares that night, but that was hardly a surprise; they were sporadic and random. There was no pattern to them, and there were times when a perfectly good dream would suddenly shift into a nightmare without warning, or vice versa.

On Wednesday morning, I was very reluctant to get out of bed. Good sleep was a rare commodity, and my bed was so soft and warm. But my sense of responsibility (and alarm clock) pulled me out of bed and I roused for the day.

After I thoroughly cleaned out the cafeteria again, I realized that I didn't actually know where I was supposed to go next. I had more first aid lessons in the afternoon, but until then I actually had free time leading up to them. That wasn't something I expected so soon, and it threw me for a loop. I could study for my lessons of course, but there was only so many hours you could spend going over basic first aid before it became monotonous; besides, I had a good memory, that stuff was easy to learn and remember.

Power testing was out too. After I'd been disarmed, the techs had postponed any testing until they fixed the pull machine. Apparently the sudden release from my distraction had caused some minor damage and they wanted to make sure it was fixed before letting me at it or any other equipment. So that was out, and left me at a total loss for what to do with myself.

Thankfully, as I left the ruins of the cafeteria behind me, I was intercepted by Weld at the entrance. "Ah, there you are, just the girl I was looking for."

"There's still food in the cafeteria, I promise I didn't eat all of it," I said quickly. The dirty looks the cafeteria staff were starting to give me every time I showed up was enough to tell me that I might need to tone it down a little.

Weld blinked, "Uh, oh. No, this isn't about that actually. I was going to see if you wanted to join us in the gym."

Now it was my turn to blink: I knew about the local gym. It dominated the second floor of the building, and I had walked by it on my way to the communal shower. I hadn't actually had a reason to go to the gym yet though; I'd been busy, and if yesterday's power testing was any indication, basic gym equipment wasn't going to make me any stronger or physically fit.

He's inviting you to hang out. Don't throw it away, you idiot! I thought.

Out loud I said, "Um, yeah. Sure. I can do… gym things."

Nailed it.

He smiled, "Great. You wanna meet us there, or…?"

"Oh, no, I'm… I'm good. I can head up now." Not like I had anything better to do, and I wasn't very heavily dressed either. Oh sure, outside Boston was slowly turning into a frozen hellscape, but inside the PRT was a bastion of warmth. Though, like the cold, heat didn't bother me that much; I wasn't even sure if I could sweat.

With no excuses to put it off, I followed Weld up to the gym in relative silence, fidgeting the entire way. This time, I knew I was overreacting. At Winslow, I had very quickly learned that silence meant someone was plotting something. If everyone was chatting, then the attention was off of me, but if everyone went silent, it meant that a prank of some kind was on its way. I knew that all the way in Boston, in the PRT building, that I was being silly, but old habits die hard.

The nervous edge didn't leave until we walked into the gym and I saw some of the other Wards. The triplets were there, along with Hunch; no sign of Kelvin or Glacia. There was a fifth teen, a lean pale-skinned guy with dark hair and dark eyes. He was all ripcord muscle and had claimed one of the treadmills. If I had to guess, he was the elusive final member of the Wards, Link.

I had been doing a little more research on my teammates since arriving at the PRT. Best guess with Link, was that he could bind two points together. No one knew what the prerequisite was for that ability, but rumor had it that the bindingss were unbreakable. If you wanted to go anywhere, you were dragging whatever you were bound to with you. I imagined that if he had to physically touch someone to use it, he was a pretty situational player in the Wards; if he wasn't, he'd probably be one of the first people targeted in a fight. Neither option would be very good.

If he noticed or cared about our arrival, it didn't show through his focus on running. The triplets, however, were on us within seconds. "Hey Taylor, how're your arms!?" Nicholas said, big grin on his face. Even though they were identical triplets, I could tell them apart by their hair styles. Nicholas had long wild hair, Alfonso had average length hair with both sides shaved down, and Carlos had short spiked hair.

Beside me, Weld covered his face with his hands and sighed, while Alfonso raised a hand ready to cuff his brother upside the head. I beat them both to it. "Eh, they're okay. I've been feeling a little more handy since the accident."

Please laugh…

The boy snorted and grinned triumphantly at her brothers, "See? I told you she had a sense of humor!"

"You hand someone a pun like that, anyone could make a joke off it." Carlos noted quietly.

His brothers paid him no mind, too busy arguing with themselves again. I took this as my cue to slowly edge around them back to Weld. "Are they always like this?" I whispered.

"Constantly. Without end." he groaned.

He took a deep breath and straightened up with a smile on his face, "They'll be at it for a while."

I glanced at the squabbling siblings (by now Carlos had been dragged in again) and nodded sagely. "I'll keep my distance."

Then I bit the bullet and asked the obvious question. "So… what do I do here? This all looks like pretty standard gym equipment, and with my powers they're not really going to be much of a challenge."

Also, I had no idea how to actually do a workout. Gyms weren't exactly common in Brockton Bay, and even if they were, we couldn't have afforded a membership with only dad's salary. The best I could've hoped for back home was daily runs, and that at best would have upped my cardio and stripped some of the fat off my old body. Now, I wasn't even sure if my body had any fat to burn.

"Oh, no, I wasn't bringing you here for a workout." Weld explained. "Glacia and Kelvin are on patrol today, and I know you're not scheduled for any classes until one. So I figured I'd give you a crash course on self defense."

I cocked my head to the side. "Wait, you mean that's not standard with the rest of the training?"

Hunch let out a bitter laugh, "Hah! Fuck no, the Youth Guard has the Protectorate by the balls; nevermind that we have powers that let some of us throw cars around, make ice golems, or heal from any injury. No no, somehow knowing how to protect ourselves is just too much for them to handle."

Weld shot Hunch a look that the boy ignored, then sighed and looked at me, "Crude as he is, Hunch is right. Legally, the Protectorate can't make us take self defense courses; it requires guardian permission. The Youth Guard has gotten the entire process buried under so much paperwork that it can take weeks to get someone certified for classes under the best circumstances."

A grin spread over his face, "But, they can't do anything about us taking classes on our own. So I took it upon myself to start training in different martial arts and then offer those lessons to everyone else here, since not everyone can afford private instruction."

"And now you're offering it to me." I finished.

He shrugged, "More or less. I've found that the stronger a cape is, the better it is for them to learn a martial art of some kind. They're all about self control and discipline, which are very important when you have the strength to knock someone's head off with a single punch."

I thought back to yesterday, and nodded my agreement. "Okay, that makes sense. So, how are we going to do this?"

He jerked a thumb behind him, "There's an attached dojo, private rooms. PRT agents practice in there, it's good for what we need. I figured we'd get you started on the basics today and see how you do. I can figure out a lesson plan with my teacher once I've got a feel for how you hold yourself."

The 'dojo' was nearly as large as the gym itself, which was already pretty large. It was lined wall to wall with training mats, with only a few exposed bits of floor for foot traffic. One section of wall was lined with training dummies and punching bags, and the rest of the room was dedicated to training mats. Weld led me over to the dummies, stopping only to take his shoes off at the edge of the mat, and I did the same.

He put his hands on his hips and smiled at me, "Alright, so before we get started; do you have any fighting experience?"

"None." I answered immediately. "Unless you count being bullied as experience."

His smile faltered, and I saw a flash of sympathy in his eyes. "Right. Well then, this might actually be easier. Teaching someone to fight when they have their own ideas on it is a lot harder than teaching someone with no idea. So, before we get down to brass tacks, I want you to throw a few punches at this dummy. Just really wail on it; I'll tell you when to stop."

I looked at said dummy, which was actually at about my height; he had probably adjusted it before coming down to get me. I wondered how many giants came through the Protectorate that required adjustable training dummies for people over seven feet tall. That seemed like a rare condition, but here-

Focus Taylor!

I raised my fists like a boxer, and threw a few quick and awkward jabs at the dummy. Even though I had no idea what I was doing, or maybe because of it, I hit the dummy hard enough to nearly knock it over after the third hit. Frankly, I was surprised; if I could pull over ten tons, that dummy must've been nailed to the floor for me to not send it flying.

Yet it remained standing even as I pounded on it for a solid minute. At exactly sixty seconds, Weld called out, "Time!"

I stopped and let my arms drop to my sides while looking at him expectantly. His expression wasn't what I'd call disappointed, more unsurprised. He rubbed his chin, looking me up and down, then nodded as he came to some sort of decision.

"Well, you definitely weren't kidding when you said you've never been in a fight before." he started.

I bit my lip, resisting the urge to reply with sarcasm, and let him continue. "But, you're not hopeless. You have a sense of what you should be doing; not a lot of people, for example, know not to throw a punch with their thumb on the outside of their fist. So you've got a good instincts."

I looked at my hands in surprise, "Wait, people do that?"

"The ones with broken thumbs do, anyway." Weld said, and added, "That said, your footwork needs improvement - I can see you're trying to go into a boxer's stance, but you should be doing it like this," he said, which he then proceeded to demonstrate.
And so it went.

Weld obviously wasn't some sort of kung fu master, but he knew his stuff. He was quick to show me proper fighting forms, how to hold myself when preparing for a fight, and where to position my feet. The punches he taught me were simple jabs, close to what I had done at first; in fact, it surprised both of us how easily I took to them. After watching Weld, and then imitating him with a few practice swings, it didn't take long for them to become nearly mirror images of his own.

It wasn't limited to punches either. Kicks also came to me just as easily, along with blocks and soon enough we were moving on to more advanced (but simple) techniques. Most were focused around disarming or disabling my opponent as quickly as possible. By the time I'd run through several grapples, an hour had passed and we'd gathered a bit of an audience. Not just Hunch and the triplets, but a few off duty PRT officers, and Link.

Weld paused after I finished reducing a sandbag to a pulpy mess with a few well placed punches, looking me over with an appraising expression. I stepped away from the sandbag and bit my lip nervously.

"Too much?"

Weld smirked, "Well, yeah. But that's not what has me curious."

He looked over his shoulder, "Hey Hunch? Do we know if Taylor was ever tested for a thinker rating?"

"She was, but that was back in Brockton Bay. You're thinking what I'm thinking, aren't you?"

Weld nodded and looked back at me, "You seem to have hit the metaphorical jackpot, Taylor. A brute and thinker is a rare combo; if I had to guess, you have a weaker version of Uber's imitation ability. Anything you see someone else do, you can imitate and store with perfect precision."

I tried to wrinkle my nose in disgust at the comparison, before remembering that I no longer had one, and settled for folding my arms instead. "Thanks, I… think?"

Uber was part of a villainous duo that posted videos of their antics online. Uber and Leet they called themselves; most of their crimes came off more as mean spirited game show pranks than actual crimes, and most people regarded them as a joke. The last year or two they'd made Brockton Bay their home, but they had a habit of hopping around cities every once in a while; usually after pissing off the local gangs. A comparison to them wasn't exactly what one would call flattering.

"This will make things a lot easier if it's true." Weld explained. "Have your first aid courses been as easy for you as this?"

I rubbed my chin, thinking back to how quickly I grew bored during those lessons. Not because the subject matter was boring, but because of how obvious it had seemed to me and how quickly I picked it up. I had chalked it up to the instructors being very clear in their lessons, but that might just have been optimistic thinking on my part. I didn't like the idea of my mind being affected by my powers. I already had a severe compulsion to eat unlawful amounts of food. Another ability that changed the way I thought and operated made my skin crawl, even if it was to my benefit. How much of me could I really consider me, if my powers were slowly chipping away at my personality?

I shoved that line of thought away as quickly as I could. It was way too early in the day for an identity crisis.

"So does that mean I can learn kung fu in a day?" I asked.

Several of the officers laughed, and Weld cracked a smile, "No. There's a lot more to understanding martial arts than knowing techniques. It's… well its complicated; for your sake, all you need to know is these basic moves and you'll already be in the upper percentage of every criminal in this city."

A part of me wilted at that; it was, well, kind of exciting going through this training with him. My entire body felt tense and on edge, eager and ready to move to the next lesson. I was actually surprised by how quickly I took to it, but that had to be related to my powers. Of course, that wasn't exactly a bad thing in this case, I hadn't felt excited about much in a long time and it was a nice feeling. So I was understandably disappointed that we were going to keep the lessons simple.

But, Weld was the veteran Ward, he knew what he was doing. It wasn't like asking him to teach me more was appropriate, right?

My train of thought was interrupted by, surprisingly, Hunch. The precog had waddled his way up to both of us, a big grin plastered on his face. "Hey, Weld. I was talking to the triplets, and we struck on a neat idea. How about you and the new girl go one on one? Hm?"
Weld stared at Hunch like he'd grown a second head, "Really? She's been here for all of three days and you're already trying to set up another brawl?"

From the sidelines, one of the officers coughed and handed a twenty to his friend sitting next to him. Hunch continued grinning, "Oh come on dude, just one round. First one to pin the other for five seconds wins. She has super regeneration and you're made of metal. She's the only Ward that could give you a challenge."

Weld shook his head, "Don't be ridiculous. This is about making sure she can handle herself on the street, Hunch, don't-"

"That sounds like fun!" the words were out of my mouth before I realized what I was saying. They were the truth though; a chance to test what I learned sounded great and I was more than ready to jump into the ring, so to speak. It totally wasn't just so I could have an excuse for Weld to grab me with his big strong arms or anything.

The boys paused, and looked at me. Hunch's grin somehow got wider, and Weld looked perplexed, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah; you say there's more to this than just knowing techniques, right? Well practicing on an opponent that can fight back will probably help."

Plus, it sounds fun I thought to myself.

Hunch pointed at me, "See? She's into it! Come on man, just a little fun."

Weld's lips tightened into a line, his eyes flicked from me, to Hunch, the triplets and then back again. He sighed and rolled his eyes, "Alright, alright. One round, first to pin the other for five seconds wins. That's it though, okay?"

"Works for me!" I chirped.

We moved to one of the many training mats, the crowd moving from their seats to stand around us. I had a very brief flashback to the many fights back at Winslow. No one ever intervened in fights, even if they were unprovoked, but they were more than happy to watch. I shuddered and shoved down the memory; this wasn't Winslow, this wasn't a someone beating up someone weaker than them. This was a friendly sparring session between teammates, that's all.

I let my excitement fill me instead, this building tension that filled my body from head to toe. It was hard not to bounce in anticipation; instead, I tried to stay as loose as possible, like Weld had instructed.

The iron lad stood directly across from me, and slid comfortably into a combat stance and I mirrored him. We had to look pretty ridiculous honestly; two giants, one made of metal and the other pink goop, striking kung fu poses. My life really was utterly ridiculous now, and I felt okay with that.

Hunch waddled between us to the edge of the mat and held out his good hand. One of the triplets deposited a flag (where did they get that from!?) in it, and he raised it over head, "Alright, quick rules! No dirty hits; that means no eye gouging, no ear or hair pulling, and no crotch shots. Fight goes until someone pins someone to the floor for five seconds. Are you guys ready?"

"Yup." Weld said.

I grinned; every muscle in my body, if I had any, coiled tight like a spring ready for release, "Ready!"

"Fight!"

He dropped the flag, and I sprung forward. I punched at Weld as quick as I could, my fists a blur of motion. He stepped back and started blocking my blows, eyes widening in surprise at how aggressive I was being; I wanted to win, and I knew he had more experience than I did. The sooner I could catch him off guard, the better.

My blows rebounded off his iron arms with solid slaps of flesh against steel. I didn't want to hurt Weld, even if he was tough enough to handle it, so I was holding back some of my strength. I feinted a jab with my left fist, then swung a kick out to sweep his feet out from under him.

Weld caught my leg with one hand, grunting from the effort, and struck with his free hand. I caught the blow on my arm, and grabbed him by the shirt, heaving as I did. I don't know what that shirt was made of, but it held against his weight even as I pulled him over my head. This wasn't a technique he'd taught me, I just saw an opening and took it.

He hit the ground hard enough to shake it, and I tried to pin him before he could get back up. His reflexes were good, and he rolled aside and to his feet before I could grab him. I shot up like a rocket, smacking into him with my shoulder hard enough to send him stumbling back.

I didn't see his fist lash out, but I sure felt it. My entire world went black, and I staggered away from him while everyone else shouted in surprise.

"I'm okay!" is what I tried to say. It came out as 'Mph mpay!"

I reached up to my face and realized what issue was; Weld had caved it in on itself. That was quick to fix, I put my hands on either side of my head and squeezed until I felt a solid pop, and my vision sprang back into view.

"Okay, that's new." I grasped, rubbing my nonexistent nose.

"Oh god, I'm sorry - " Weld started.

My heart pounded in my ears, I thought I could taste blood in my mouth, and yet despite that, I grinned at him, "Weld, shut up, we're fighting."

"Ooooh!" the triplets crowed, and the crowd snickered.

Weld blinked in surprise, before the message sunk in. He nodded, and we resumed. This time, the aggression wasn't so one sided. Weld gave as good as he got, now that he really understood that an errant punch wouldn't hurt me. The fight very rapidly changed from a 'who can pin who' battle into a 'who breaks first' all out brawl.

Weld hammered his fist into my stomach, I grabbed him by the head and smashed my forehead against his hard enough to send us both reeling backwards. My grin widened, I steadied myself, and delivered a haymaker that sent him spinning across the mat. He barely regained his faculties in time to block another punch from me.

By now I could see that I was much faster than Weld. He could hit like a truck, and so far aside from stunning him I hadn't really hurt him. But he was slow, and had to weather my attacks while I could dance circles around him. Of course, that durability of his was something to worry about. He could tank blows that definitely would've sent a normal person flying, and could counterattack at his leisure.

Even as I hammered him with punches, he made no move to dodge them; he was content to keep his arms raised and to weather the storm. When I tried mixing it up and going for another kick to his side, he absorbed the blow and pinned my leg to his side with one arm, and grabbed my by the throat with the other.

"Sorry Taylor," He apologized as he hoisted me overhead and slammed me into the mat so hard that the entire room shuddered. Officers and the Wards scattered away from the impact zone and stars flashed in my eyes. My ear's rang and the world spun around me, but I definitely wasn't hurt.

Slowly, as the ringing stopped, I could hear Hunch's voice.

"...Two...Three…"

Weld had turned his back on me to check on the officers; big mistake, our little sparring session wasn't over.

I lunged to my feet, a liquid movement that I had no right pulling off as gracefully as I did, and wrapped both my arms around his waist. Weld yelped in surprise, as I heaved again, and suplexed his iron ass. The training mat only barely absorbed the sound of several hundred pounds of metal hitting the ground, and once more the room shook.

And then the entire floor collapsed beneath us and we crashed into the cafeteria below in a shower of concrete dust and plaster. I hit the ground first and was quickly pinned by Weld, who's bulk literally flattened my lower body to the floor while more debris poured on us from above. When the dust finally settled, there was a large hole in the ceiling above, and we were both drenched in dust.

We both started hacking up dust, and overhead I could hear our audience's shocked reactions. I craned my neck up at the hole and saw Hunch looking through it with a wide eyed expression.

"Well shit." he said. "I didn't see that coming."

Despite myself, I started laughing, if only at the ridiculousness of the situation. "Oh my god that was fun. Weld, can I ask you something?"

He groaned and his head lolled loosely to the side, "Yeah?"

"I'd like to meet your teacher, when we can. You said there's more to martial arts than just techniques, right? Well… I think I want to learn more."

Weld looked at me, and a tired smile spread over his face, "I'll look into it. Right now though, we've got more pressing issues to worry about."

Right. We were in so much trouble.

-M-​

"Absolutely irresponsible! I would expect this kind of behavior from Hunch or the Triplets, but I expected better of you Weld!" Bastion, the leader of the Protectorate, had been giving Weld and I a very thorough dressing down for the damage we caused. Turns out, for any real power testing, the PRT had its own facilities for that. The gym and the dojo were primarily meant for agents without powers, or capes that didn't have brute ratings like Weld and I.

Whoops.

Agents had quickly arrived to clean up and cordon off our little crash zone, and we'd been corralled off to the side until Bastion and Director Armstrong made their appearances. So far the director hadn't said a word, but he didn't need to; there was a firm look of disapproval on his face even while Bastion verbally eviscerated us.

Speaking of, the leader of the Protectorate had a bit of a temper. He was a decently tall man (nowhere near as tall as Weld and I, but still), and covered head to toe in plated armor. His face was hidden behind a helmet with a single glowing blue visor, and similar glowing bits around his joints. I was reminded of the Ward Gallant in Brockton Bay, only Bastion looked more like a walking fortress and less like a modern knight in shining armor. I idly wondered if he was wearing powered armor, while slowly tuning out his rant.

Honestly, I was very familiar with this. I had been yelled at by the staff at Winslow for daring to speak out against the Trio, and being unfairly accused of being a troublemaker was par for the course. Though it was a little new actually being guilty of what I was being accused of for once, so there was that.

I couldn't help but feel bad for Weld though; he had offered to help prepare me for my hero career, and I had thrown him through the floor and got him in trouble with his superiors. He didn't deserve that; unfortunately, Bastion wasn't leaving us much room to talk.

"-An absolutely inexcusable danger to every member of the PRT in the building! Again, what were you-"

"That's quite enough, Bastion." Armstrong interrupted.

The hero paused and looked back at the director. He took a long, deep breath, let out a sigh, and collected himself. "Yes, of course. I think I've made my point."

"You have indeed." Armstrong agreed and looked at both of us. "These two understand how reckless their actions were. That said, we cannot blame them entirely; after all, we still don't know the full extent of Miss Hebert's abilities, accidents are bound to happen."

He fixed me with a firm look, "With that said, I will ask that you refrain from any more training until we have properly gauged your abilities, if only for the safety of the people in my building."

I bit my lip and ducked my head, "Yessir. Sorry sir."

Armstrong sighed and rubbed his chin, "Of course, this would normally bring up the question of what to do with you two. Accident or no, you did cause considerable damage. I think… a week as Fae's lab assistant's might suffice."

Oh god no!

The grin was palpable in Bastion's voice as he spoke, "I think that's a wonderful idea Director; I'll make sure she's briefed on it."

I flashed back to the endless hours of conversation I'd be subjected to, all the techno babble and tangentially related conversations. I exchanged a look of horror with Weld, who somehow had managed to turn a shade paler.

Armstrong couldn't suppress his smile, "Yes, that and cleaning up the mess you made. I think those are fitting punishments."

We both looked at the large pile of debris sitting in the Weld and Taylor sized crater in the floor, and winced. There was no arguing our way out of that. A pair of agents came up to us with dustpans and brooms, and handed them to us.

"I'd suggest getting to work," Armstrong added, "After all, the lunch rush starts in about two hours, and I'd hate to explain why the cafeteria is closed for the day."

My stomach rumbled and I couldn't help but pout.

You made your bed Taylor, now it was time to lie in it.

I moved to start cleaning, when Armstrong added, "Oh, and Miss Hebert?"

I looked back at him. He wore a kinder expression on his face now, though there was a hint of a grin at the edge of his lips. "I figured you ought to know; Glenn has finished your prototype costume. If you want, I can send it to your room so you can try it on and let him know what you think."

A giddy sense of excitement and dread filled me. On the one hand, it was my costume! My official uniform as a cape! On the other hand, it was my costume designed by Glenn Chambers. If it was anything like how he dressed, I shuddered to imagine the monstrosity awaiting me.

I forced a smile, "If it's no trouble, I'd appreciate it, Director."

He nodded, "I'll have it done. Now good luck to you Miss Hebert." we both looked up at the hole, as another piece of debris finally broke free and shattered against the ground.

"You're definitely going to need it.

-M-​

I don't want to talk about how long it took to clean up our mess. Lets just say I needed a long shower afterwards and I still wasn't sure I'd gotten all the dust and grime out from under my nails. I had a body that apparently could self clean itself, and I still felt dirty. It sucked, I was grumpy about it, moving on.

As promised, my costume was waiting for me in my room, neatly packed away in a white cardboard box with a note attached to it. I read it first, and it said:

'Taylor,

I've included a rough prototype of your costume. It is, of course, subject to change based on your feedback and the feedback of your team. It will take some time to design another though, so if you don't like it, you'll need to come up with something different for your official reveal come this Friday.

Sincerely,

G. Chambers.'

That didn't fill me with confidence. I looked up from the note at the box, and sighed. No point in putting it off, might as well take a look at it. I opened it up and quickly changed, before stepping in front of the mirror and looking at myself.

It was obvious that Glenn had taken some inspiration from my 'first' costume. I still had those baggy white pants, but the bagginess had been toned down significantly and they fit my body much better now. I wasn't a huge fan of the top, which was mostly just a glorified tank top with some extra padding to give it an armored look. At the very least, it covered my entire torso and only stopped at my shoulders. At the shoulders, I was able to properly attach a purple cape that fell to my knees, instead of just tying it in a knot around my throat and calling it a day. To complete the ensemble, were a pair of golden bands lined with a black edge on either side that clicked onto my wrists and were surprisingly comfortable

I did a few circles, looking at myself from every angle, and the gears clicked.

"Oh goddamn it, he really is making me look like a fucking genie!"

 

[Horus Lupercal]

Well done i do like this chapter thank you for thi

 

[Tontis]

Room and Ward 1.5​

"Hey Weld, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, go for it." he said while standing on the ceiling. Or was it the floor, since I was technically standing on the ceiling? Fae's gravity room really messed with my sense of perspective; up was down, left was right, red was blue and somewhere a cat and dog were living together. I'll admit, the gravity room was very cool, and it was variable. Some sections had reversed gravity, others had lighter gravity and a few had heavier gravity, though those sections only increased gravity by a small percentage. If the gravity was too intense, it would do nasty things to a person's body.

Fae didn't have much use for us, and aside from taking my measurements, had been content to let us explore her lab, with the condition that we had to ask before we touched anything she was working on. While we did, she was casually spinning in a null gravity zone of the lab, working on some new device that had come to her, muttering excitedly to herself. As far as punishments went, I'd definitely had worse; it was the boredom that was the worst part of it.

My mind had started to wander, and it had drifted into an uncomfortable territory I had been trying to ignore for the past few days. Given that tomorrow I was due for my official public reveal, I felt I couldn't really put it off any longer. It was good luck that Weld was here with me to answer my questions.

"Do you… like, going to a public school?" Glenn's words and advice had stuck with me, silently gnawing away at the back of my mind even as I had tried to ignore them. The idea of going back to any public school, especially in my current state, twisted me into balls of anxiety so dense, I was pretty sure I was going to create a gravitational anomaly. The fact that his logic and reasoning made sense to me. In fact, that only made it worse because I couldn't just dismiss it on the grounds of Glenn being completely nuts (though the jury was still out on that), which would've been so much easier.

Basically, I really needed a second opinion, and Weld was excellent for it. I would have asked Hunch, but I hadn't seen the boy since Weld and I had wrecked the dojo yesterday. He was probably laying low until the whole incident blew over and everyone forgot.

Weld folded his arms and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Hmm, well it's definitely different. You get stares for sure, at least on your first week or so; that's the hardest time. But once people get used to you, it's how I imagine school life is supposed to be. You'll get more attention for sure, but it'll mostly be from fans. The downside to being what we are, is that a secret identity is out of the cards, so people will definitely try to talk to you about anything and everything related to the Protectorate."

That was something I had considered and the idea made me nervous. At Winslow, if someone you didn't know approached you, it typically meant you were probably about to get mugged. My instincts probably wouldn't transfer well to a public school that wasn't located in a metaphorical hellhole.

I could see the headline now: 'Local Bubblegum Teenager slams innocent students head through locker! Details at eleven!'

No thanks.

"Once the shine wears off though," Weld continued, "People just kind of… accept you. Heh, we're all in this suffering together, I guess, and that tends to bring people together."

I squinted an eye at him and said, "You have a very optimistic view of the world, you know that?"

He shrugged and smiled at me. Fae took that moment to interject her two cents. "Personally speaking, I think it would do you good to go to a public school if only so you get used to interacting with people in your new body. I mean, if you're nervous talking to us, how nervous will you be patrolling the streets or talking to civilians when the time comes? Just something to consider."

I looked between them both, and bit my lip, "I'm not… nervous around you guys."

Weld took a sudden interest in a toolbox on the floor, and Fae continued spinning, probably to hide that cheeky grin on her face.

"I'm not!" I protested.

"If you insist." Fae sang.

She stopped herself, and stared at me while floating upside down. "Regardless of your choice, just remember that it is your choice, Taylor. You have the final say in this."

Somehow, that didn't fill me with confidence.

-M-​

So technically, since I was still a minor, dad had the final say in whether or not I attended a public school or took private courses. When I called him about that, I was disappointed to find that his decision was, "Whatever you're comfortable with Taylor, I will support you 100%."

Great, a supportive and caring father, just what I needed a time like this.

It was hard not to get frustrated. Emotionally, every fiber of my being railed against the idea of putting myself in a public school again. The Trio had turned my experience into hell and it scared me to even think about experiencing that again. Rationally, I agreed with what everyone else was saying; for my career as a hero, it could only help. Of course, that side also thought that, if I wound up going and having a repeat of Winslow, that would be just as bad as not going at all.

I wound up wandering the halls after calling dad, trying to clear my mind. It was by pure accident that I found Erica's room. How did I know it was her room? She had painted her name on the door in bright blue letters, and had a miniature mailbox glued to the wall next to it with a note that read 'All complaints and summons here. Knock at your own peril'.

Joke was on her, I could regenerate.

I knocked once and the door immediately slid open and I was buffeted with a blast of frigid air. A colossal figure of ice towered over even me, it's horned head scraping against the threshold. Its body was made entirely out of shards of crystalline ice and steam poured off its body in hazy clouds. A pair of glowing blue eyes illuminated its otherwise expressionless face. They narrowed at me before flickering with recognition and then rolled in exasperation.

The ice golem groaned and shifted to the side, revealing Erica standing in her frost covered room wearing a tanktop and shorts. She looked more bemused than annoyed, and completely unaffected by the cold.

"Hey Bubblegum, you can read right?" she said in a chipper tone.

I grinned, "Yeah, but this was… kind of important. Maybe. I need your advice."

A frown spread over her lips, and she stuck her head out into the hall looking both ways. She sighed and pulled it back in, "Is this big long winded advice or short? I'm losing the cold here."

"Short, I think." I said, eyeing her golem nervously. It's crystal clear body was slowly fogging over and it's glowing eyes had vanished, leaving it as still as a statue, which somehow made it more unnerving.

"Fine, shoot." she sighed.

"Do you think I should go to public school with Weld and Hunch?"

Erica groaned and covered her face, "Oh Christ, Glenn talked to you about that didn't he? Fucking PR Toadie…"

I blinked, "So you know him?"

"Everyone knows him." she hissed with surprising venom. I think my stunned expression got to her, her tone softened. "Look, whatever Glenn says, even if it makes sense, he can't actually do shit. He's just a PR advisor. Yeah, he's the top dog, but there is literally nothing he can do except pull funding for your costumes and public appearances. And even that can get overruled if Armstrong says so. So if you're worried about the whole school thing, tell him to take his idea and shove it up his ass."

I blinked again and made no attempt to hide my surprise, "Um, okay… I'm sensing a history here."

Erica glared at me, "If you saw the outfits he tried to get me to wear once I started to 'develop' you'd understand. He also tried pushing Kelvin and I into a relationship because 'fire and ice make a nice thematic pair'. He's a manipulative little toad that sees us as merchandise to be marketed, and that's it."

My opinion of Glenn dropped at that. "I see… That's… enlightening. But I talked with Weld and Fae about it. She agrees with it, and Weld is…"

"Terrifyingly optimistic in the face of the grim reality that is this joke of a planet?" Erica finished.

"I was going to say supportive."

"Same difference."

I frowned and put my hands on my hips, "Okay, so your hate for Glenn aside, what do you think?"

Erica rubbed her temples and grumbled to herself.

"If you want my honest opinion, you do you. But if you're going to do the public school thing, lay down your ground rules."

I cocked my head to the side and she sighed again. "The PRT and Protectorate are legally responsible for you now. You live on site, so education, shelter, food, they're responsible for all of it. You have sway over them; if there's something you're worried about, and I'm guessing there is, then make it clear that you want certain conditions met before you jump in. If they're not willing to jump through your hoops, then just take up private tutoring like I did. Just be hard about it; if you give them an inch, they'll take a mile."

I had to admit, I liked the way she phrased it. It felt a lot more grounded than Weld's view of things, and I hadn't considered what kind of control I might have over the PRT and Protectorate. It made sense in hindsight, given that they were willing to buy our home off our hands for its original market value and to provide a new one in Boston for dad. They were obviously willing to move a lot around just to add me to the roster.

A grin spread over my face, and I felt that familiar mischievous feeling again. "Thank you Erica, I think I'll put your advice to good use."

-M-​

"Miss Hebert, Director Armstrong will see you now." the secretary said.

I had decided to go straight to the top about my little issue. My plan was simple, I would lay out the issues I had with going to a public school, and list the concessions I needed before I'd even consider it. If they couldn't meet them, I would take private tutoring instead. I would be as civil as I could: Director Armstrong had been nothing but patient and kind since my arrival, but I also wasn't going to budge either.

Steeling myself, I nodded to the secretary, stood up, and pushed open his office door and stepped inside. Armstrong didn't have a window office, but the room felt surprisingly open in spite of that. A large oak desk dominated the room, the PC set to one side and a stack of neatly organized papers occupied the other. The light was soft, and to my surprise there was an aquarium on the left side of the room that was filled with colorful fish and bubbled quietly. On the right side of the room, a bookcase covered most of the wall and a set of comfortable lounge chairs were set before it and around a coffee table.

Armstrong was seated in one of those chairs, pouring boiling water from a kettle into a mug. I recognized the smell, Earl Grey with a hint of honey; my greatest weakness.

The director smiled at me as I walked in, "Miss Hebert, it's wonderful to see you again. Please, sit."

I walked over and did so; the chair was comfortable, but not too comfortable. Was that intentional? I decided I was probably overthinking it and focused on the man in front of me, relaxed and confident as he always seemed to be.

He gestured at the kettle, "Tea?"

"Yes please." I said.

His movements were calm and deliberate, and once my cup was filled, he added a touch of honey. Okay, this was definitely intentional. And it was working, damn it. I took a sip and savored the taste. It was an effort to drag my mind back to the matter at hand.

"Director, I'm here to talk to you about my education."

Armstrong nodded, "I thought so. Glenn told me he had talked to you about that, I hope he didn't pressure you too much. I would hate for you to think you're obligated to appease him."

I carefully selected my words and tried to speak with the same calm he had. I think I managed it, "I'm willing to attend class with Weld and Hunch, but I have a few conditions."

"Name them," Armstrong said, spreading his hands, "If there's anything we can do to make this easier for you, I promise I will try to make it a possibility to the best of my abilities."

He was being way too calm about this. I shook off that thought and started listing off my conditions, counting off my fingers as I did. "Okay, then: First, I want a direct line to PRT support, second, I want full control over which classes I take and I want to go to a respectable school, third, I want an agent assigned to the school to act as a liaison with the staff if anything comes up, and fourth, I want Glenn to keep his nose out of my social life there. If you can do these things, I'll happily go to whatever school you send me to."

Armstrong raised a brow, but said nothing. He clearly and calmly reached for his tea and took a long draw. He finished with a satisfied sigh and set it on the plate with a soft clink of ceramic.

"Well, I see you have your priorities in order, Miss Hebert, that's good. As for your conditions, well… The first three of those are standard operating procedures for the Wards."

I opened my mouth and froze, "I… what?"

The man hid his smile well, but the corner of his lips twitched upwards, "We issue standard cellphone equipment with direct lines to our support staff. If something happens, we're a phone call away from providing support. When a Ward moves schools for whatever reason, we streamline the process and give them as much freedom as possible; your academic career is important to us. We always have a liaison on site, both to ensure the staff avoid preferential treatment and to report any Wards that abuses their powers. As for Glenn, I can only promise to try; that man technically operates independently of any one branch of the Protectorate, and he can be persistent. But if you think he's crossed a line, don't hesitate to tell me."

I stared at Armstrong, not entirely sure if I was processing what he said properly. He looked amused, but in a doting grandfatherly way.

"I... I see." my voice came out in a strained squeak.

Armstrong's amusement faded and he sighed. "Miss Hebert, we are not your enemy. My job, my duty as the director of the PRT and partner to the Protectorate, is to ensure that the Wards are taken care of. To make sure that each and every one of you is given every possible resource available to us so that you can not only survive but thrive. I want you to be comfortable, to be happy, and I want to see you to become heroes worthy of the title."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "I know about Winslow, from what you've told us. I've researched what I can about the school. Your treatment there was terrible; most Parahumans in some way suffer like you did in some way shape or form. That's why it's so important that we work together. I can only help you to be a hero if you let me, understand? So whatever you need, don't hesitate to tell me. I'll do what I can to provide it."

The smile returned, "Within reason of course."

Without a word, he grabbed a napkin off the table and offered it to me. I took it and wiped the tears from my eyes. My chest swirled with emotions, far too many; I didn't like it, I felt like I was about to burst into sobbing fits. I swear, I wasn't this emotional before my trigger event.

Then again, I hadn't been given a genuine offer of help in a very long time.

I dried my tears and took a calm steadying breath, "Okay, I understand Director."

"Good." he patted his knees and pulled a pad and pen out from a drawer in the desk and clicked it open. "So, lets go over it then. What exactly can I do for you, Miss Hebert?"

I recognized one of those emotions swirling around inside me. As cheesy as it sounds, for the first time in a long time, I felt genuine hope at the days to come. Oh sure, I was nervous as hell, but for once, I didn't feel alone. Someone outside my family actually gave a damn about me, and it felt good.

 

[RichardWhereat]

Isn't this an old chapter? I could swear I read it before.

 

[Tontis]

Isn't this an old chapter? I could swear I read it before.

Click to shrink...

I'm slowly updating Questing to be up to date with the story on Space Battles. This is mostly out of laziness and the fact that I'm on a hiatus from writing until the end of the month.

 

[RichardWhereat]

I'm slowly updating Questing to be up to date with the story on Space Battles. This is mostly out of laziness and the fact that I'm on a hiatus from writing until the end of the month.

Click to shrink...

It, is the end of the month? I don't think there's a 32nd of March. There are only six more hours.

 

[Tontis]

It, is the end of the month? I don't think there's a 32nd of March. There are only six more hours.

Click to shrink...

Dude, its March 30th in my timezone, and I was doing NO writing during the hiatus. Meaning I don't even start writing till April 1st

 

[RichardWhereat]

There is only one timezone, and it is good. (It is good.) We bow to the timezone. (All honour to the timezone.)