Mettle [Worm AU]

[Ack]

Oh god. Amy, when not depressed, is a troll.

I like her, a lot.

 

[Harbin]

2.11​

Dad.

I hugged him. He was crying, I was crying.

It felt good.

Seeing further than five feet in front of me without glasses felt weird. It's not like I was blind as a bat before, but now I could actually look at, well, this room wasn't a great example. I could see Dad from the other side of the room as he came in. That's what mattered. Also that they'd given me clothes before this. Wearing a hospital gown everywhere was not my ideal situation.

"God, Taylor. I thought I'd lost you. I thought you were dead." I could hear his exhaustion, and see it on his face. Had he not slept at all since I'd been brought in?

"How long?" I was suddenly afraid. How long had I been out? What had happened, that he was this tired, this scared?

"I believe I can answer that." The man my father was with nodded at me. A mask was on his face, nothing ostentatious, just one that concealed his upper face. His hair was short, hair slicked back.

Stones dropped into a lake. Ripples forming outward, and where the ripples intersected, things were crawling out, many-legged and too many eyes across their bodies. They scattered to the edges of the window, dragging thread along with them. They were iridescent.

"It's been one day, six hours. You were in and out of consciousness, but while there was a possibility of permanent disability, you weren't in danger of death." He paused, mouth twisting in distaste. "If your neighbors hadn't stopped what they were doing to call the owner, it could have been much worse. The motel owner had a shotgun. Shadow Stalker broke off to try convince him that you were a villain. The blisters and boils from your pepper spray were quite persuasive. It interacted very poorly with her power."

His thin lips spread, as he continued speaking in that dry, pleasant voice. "I sincerely doubt she'll be getting far with Director Piggot on her case. She's quite tenacious."

"So she won't be coming after my daughter, right?" Dad spoke first, his voice trembling and angry.

The threads spread, lacing across each other. Where they touched, water pooled outward. First drops, but as more lines intersected, more water spread, and it was once again a clear pool.

"We'd like to put you up with the Wards and Protectorate, if possible. They're the safest possible place from Shadow Stalker, given that she has a clear vendetta against- Templar." He smiled at me. "We'll get you a better name. Once again, you did quite well."

Recognition dawned. "Oh, you're the thinker that was talking with me!"

"Yes. I find it to be much less effective to talk to someone without being able to see their eyes. It's harder to recognize them, and I apologize. Master-Stranger containment meant I could not have done that. But, I take pride in my work, and I am glad it has led to a swift resolution in your case." He reached out a hand with thin, long fingers. I shook it, hesitantly.

"You helped her? What did you say your name was?" Dad shifted into spokesperson mode, holding out his hand to shake as well. He adopted a less tense, but no less tired expression.

"I go by Coil, here. I'm a thinker that works with the PRT." He shook my father's hand, then gestured down the hallway. "We'll go show you the rooms, and the Wards. I recommend you stay with us for the time being until we've made sure Shadow Stalker isn't a threat to you, or your daughter. You're free to go, if you would prefer. There are no charges against you, or your daughter. I would not recommend leaving."

Dad didn't want to stay. His back was too straight, his eyes were too set. He didn't want to be proud, but he didn't want to accept their help after what they'd allowed. Coil could see it as well, and he shrugged, looking at me slightly.

"Dad. Let's stay. They'll catch Sophia, and we can go home. We don't have to do anything. I'm tired. You're tired. Let's just see how things are in the morning." I reached over, holding his hand.

He closed his eyes, and sighed. "Alright. Please, Coil. If you wouldn't mind."

"Certainly. If you'll just come this way." He walked to the elevator, pressing the button. We followed. "Here, Templar. You may want to put this on, since you may be meeting the Wards."

Coil removed a domino mask from his suit pocket, handing it to me.

"Thanks." I placed it on my face, feeling it adhere. Thankfully around and over my eyebrows. Would be an odd way to pluck those.

"Sir, would you like one as well?" Dad accepted Coil's second proffered mask. He looked silly with it on. We both giggled at each other, Coil stayed respectfully silent.

The elevator doors opened, and we got inside. "We'll drop your daugher off with the Wards. I assure you, none of them are anything like Sophia. She was on probation, which she has violated, many times over. All of them want to apologize to your daughter for not knowing about this sooner."

The Wards wanted to apologize to me? It seemed like another joke setup. How many Wards does it take to fix a rampaging Sophia?

Dad had been swelling up, ready to swing into a tirade. That little speech punctured it. "I just want her to be safe."

"It wasn't your fault. Shadow Stalker is a trained parahuman, both self-taught and by the PRT. She was supposedly improving. It's very obvious to all of us that that was not the case. Your daughter defended herself, and did so very well." The elevator stopped. Coil moved off of it, striding over to a wall. "I won't suggest the Wards, there's a lot of impetus for it, but I will recommend that your daughter receives training here. She could test, and use our facilities, potentially."

He lowered his face to a small port, and there was a beep. "They'll be given a warning so that they can put their masks on."

After about five seconds, the light above the door turned green, then it slid open.

I walked in, Coil staying at the doorway, along with Dad, who looked concerned.

Vista, Aegis, Browbeat, Gallant, and Clockblocker. All the Wards were here. Vista, Gallant and Clockblocker wore domino masks rather than their usual headgear.

It was odd. I could see the spectres behind them. Vista's almost drowned them out, but they were visible. I attempted a smile. "Hi. I'm uh, that girl who Shadow Stalker-"

"Who beat the shit out of that bitch. Good work. Couldn't have happened to a better person- hey! It's true! I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Shadow Stalker was an ass, but she was never-" Vista cut Clockblocker off after elbowing him.

"Psychopathic. I'm really sorry about this. If I'd reported her sooner, I thought she was improving, she apologized… I could have stopped all this." Vista suddenly looked her age. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't know her too great, haven't been here long, haven't been on patrol with her. She was a dick to me whenever I saw her, though." Browbeat raised his hands up along with his shoulders.

Gallant was handsome, but his face was absolutely contorted in what looked like shame and self-loathing. He didn't say anything other than shaking his head.

"Anyway." Aegis said. "As the leader of the Brockton Bay Wards, let me show you where you'll be staying. It's not ideal, but Shadow Stalker will not be getting in. I'm staying overnight. So is Clockblocker and Gallant. Vista is still getting permission."

I glanced behind me. Apparently it was enough to satisfy Dad and Coil, because the door was closed. I followed Aegis, hoping that there weren't more psycho-socio-serial-killers on the team. This might have been a PR move. Maybe they were trying to soft-sell me on the wards, maybe ten million other things. But right now, I just felt confused and somewhat hopeful.

 

[Harbin]

There will be an interlude following this, bringing us right back into the action, followed by this week's weather report. Then, we'll be heading over to a slight timeskip so that we don't have the entire conga line evening where everyone awkwardly tries to make Taylor feel better.

 

[Subrosian Smithy]

Stones dropped into a lake. Ripples forming outward, and where the ripples intersected, things were crawling out, many-legged and too many eyes across their bodies. They scattered to the edges of the window, dragging thread along with them. They were iridescent.

Click to shrink...

Ooh, is this Administrator? The AU Chevalier who got QA-?

"I go by Coil, here. I'm a thinker that works with the PRT."

Click to shrink...

Huh. Shouldn't have let the bugs lead me astray, then.

 

[Harbin]

My apologies. I have one lined up for Recon when he shows up. This one is just special because it's the first Cauldron cape she's encountered.

 

[DinoHank]

A (apparently) non-evil Coil is one of those things that just throws me off. It starts making me doubt the motivations of everyone else in the fic. It's a good thing. Makes me even more interested than I already was. I don't think there will ever be a fic where I trust Calvert, though. No matter what he says or does.

 

[Unclouded]

Ok first thing is obviously Coil doesn't have his canon powers and is a known parahuman working with the PRT. That alone is crazy enough however something not everyone will notice:

Vista, Aegis, Browbeat, Gallant, and Clockblocker. All the Wards were here.

Click to shrink...

No Kid Win. Does that mean he's Hero's apprentice, that he never triggered, or that he's a villain? Everything I learn about this AU just raises further questions and I'm loving every second of it.

 

[Xilph]

Him as Hero's apprentice could work, in theory his modularity related specialization could become a top tier power, combined with Hero's wavelength specialization you could likely do some insane shit. Modularity combined with mass production from Masamune and reverse

I just realized something. With all these events the endbringers going differently would be very, very likely, Dragon was in the form she was as the product of an endbringer attack, if that attack didn't happen or went differently?

But yeah, modularity is one of those specializations that could be utter bullshit if done right, it would be most effective with other tinkers though. Making gear more modular should be a godsend for maintenance issues if nothing else, as you can have tinker A maintain the parts while Modular Tinker maintains the bits that let them work together.

 

[slicedtoad]

I'm still confused. What did Amy do to Taylor?

 

[Harbin]

I'm still confused. What did Amy do to Taylor?

Click to shrink...

Terrible things. She's now an eldritch horror. This is all a dream sequence.

 

[dasstan]

I'm still confused. What did Amy do to Taylor?

Click to shrink...

Some proclivities toward cancer, shortsightedness. Nerve damage in your arm. I'll fix all of it,

Click to shrink...

She fixed all of that.

 

[pepperjack]

I'm still confused. What did Amy do to Taylor?

Click to shrink...

She implied danger in a situation where Taylor, while completely at Amy's mercy, was in fact totally safe. Ethically, this is about as bad as jumping out of a closet and saying "boo!" to your little brother.

 

[Harbin]

2.X​

It was exceedingly easy to lose track of the pieces for the whole. He had promised not to let it happen again, but here it was, and it was indirectly his fault.

Tinkers were supposed to fix problems. They had a solution for everything.

The delivery load was too heavy. Had to cut corners, and that wasn't helping. That made heat issues a problem. It was a good sort of challenging, but a frustrating sort of challenging. He was working with predefined limits, hard ones, not soft ones. Different bugs would have a different weight limit, but it wasn't effective if beetles were carrying it. It was much harder to notice a gnat or a mosquito. That was the point.

The smaller the parts, the worse the heating issues got. Had to compensate for it again, because the last time hadn't been good enough. New idea, saved to notes: 'working on an addition for the halberd later consult dragon'

And then Recon had left, with Patriot. He understood why they had to go, it was necessary. He knew that, but it was much harder to come to terms with. It felt like a betrayal, of sorts. They were so close, and now it was just left to rot, with a few prototypes going with him.

Armsmaster had sighed, then. It was always time he was working against. Everything else was secondary. Efficiency. Public relations, would they help as much as putting another hour in to fix programming? Would micro-soldering the pieces for the new project be better than talking with friends?

His limits frustrated him. Sleep frustrated him. Inundated by the shit. Eight whole hours. It was was a damn waste of time. He could be doing something, even if it was furthering his brand, boosting his budget for other things. He did his best to avoid sleep. Dragon didn't sleep. Or at least she had automated things enough that she didn't seem like it.

He admired her. Armsmaster heard the advice of people around him. He listened to Dragon. The discussions he could have with her alone, the smiles on both ends, the ideas that were created-

It was time he happily would have wasted to have talked with her. It was never a waste, when she was involved. She drove him onward, to improve his gear, perhaps even improve himself. He took care of himself more when she was around, that was for sure. She would have understood, but he wanted to have her be smiling, not that concerned, worried expression.

Yeah. He was in love. He knew it. Crushing hard on the world's best tinker. But was it possible to hold up that kind of relationship? Would she even want it? How did you even start that conversation? He hadn't dated in years. Non-tinkers just didn't get how much time had to be invested just to stay on-par with the curve.

And now he was here.

Because he'd invested too much into staying on top of that curve, and not enough time making sure Shadow Stalker wasn't a bomb waiting to go off.

It would have been easy, too. She'd been lying in her psych sessions, they thought, but weren't sure. Monitoring prosody, pulse, pupil dilation. Could have made something to make sure. Check up on her school activities, check reports. Could have retasked a program to check for irregularities. Something. But that was a tinker problem, creating wider solutions to problems that could be handled personally. Was Shadow Stalker something that could be handled with interaction? Not anymore.

There was just so much to do, and so little time to do it in. He always had to be somewhere. If it wasn't patrolling, it was maintaining. Something was always broken. Something always took priority.

And then there was cleanup. Scraping the pieces off the ground from when something had gone wrong, and was making a mess. It made less time for other things.

Piggot's voice was taciturn. No long speeches. "Armsmaster. Half a block east. Send your cycle around the north side."

She was good at her job. She made calls that sometimes made him hypothesize she had triggered during her experience at Ellisburg. Much of her success was attributed to Coil, but he'd seen the records. He trusted her judgment.

He moved, gripping the handle of the cycle, interfacing directly with it for a moment. The cycle switched to autopilot, going to flank for him. This was all his responsibility. "Acknowledged."

Armsmaster moved, his armor assisting movement. His halberd was held in a defensive position. The mechanisms inside of it could have allowed him to scout from the rooftops, or send out an echo pulse, mapping the area.

He was using none of them. At first, it had been Assault and Battery, looking for Shadow Stalker, under the impression she'd been mastered. If she had done something under control, or blown her civilian identity wide open… things could get bad. Both for her, and the PRT.

This would have been so much easier with Velocity. Or Dauntless.

Maybe he should be calling in New Wave? He didn't want to get into that political firestorm. Rogue Ward almost kills hero, New Wave called in to assist, is the PRT really our best choice?

The hours he'd have to spend at a table answering questions, feeling ideas rot away at his mind, that was abysmal.

"Shit." The words were whispered, but the suit picked them up, IFF and voice recognition labeling it as a male, and not any known villains. The location was labeled on his HUD, and an approximate outline on the right side.

Armsmaster kept on moving.

"Shadow Stalker. Half a block north, fleeing east." Piggot's voice came through, and Armsmaster immediately swiveled, his eyes flicking to the map.

"Acknowledged." He moved again, tapping his fingers against the halberd. It wasn't a nervous tic, but a means of controlling the cycle, saving time. He locked the instructions in.

A wisp of shadow on the rooftops. It firmed up into a form he could reliably confirm. Then, it stumbled, falling off of the rooftop, going shadow once more before hitting the ground hard.

She coughed, glanced back, and saw him.

"Stop, Shadow Stalker. Don't make this worse on yourself." His voice was amplified.

Her face was a mess. Open sores weeping, blisters. For a moment, he doubted that Templar had done this on accident. She ran.

The doubt vanished.

He aimed the halberd at her, and fired. The electrified bolas fired with a tshhk of air venting.

She ducked, scrabbling at the ground. He pressed a button, and microjets fired, stopping in midair. His footsteps were heavy as he advanced on his former charge, the bolas hemming her in. "Surrender. You won't get another warning."

"Fuck you- you-" She turned and shifted, diving through the wall. Armsmaster pressed another button. The bolas returned to their position on the halberd as he pursued.

"Left." Piggot's voice.

"Acknowledged." He moved. His trust of Piggot's judgment calls had grown over the years. He barely heard the words before he responded, moving to the left, chasing Shadow Stalker through the left alleyway, outward to the front side of the building.

"Fuck-" Shadow Stalker's voice. Approximate location was identified and labeled.

"Pursuing into building." He spoke as he placed the other end of the halberd against the door. If it was unlocked, he'd be a fool. But that was one potential additional step. Check if it was unlocked, if it was locked, use breaching charge. One to two seconds could make that difference. He'd learned that, lessons paid by others for his sake.

Thumph.

The door opened as he pulled. Armsmaster would never solve Schrödinger's lock. He proceeded into the building, halberd telescoping down to a baton in size, thicker around except for where he was holding. Better for close quarters, less likely to get caught in walls. Less features available, but the relevant ones were still there. He tapped a button. His cycle cruised around the other side of the building, cutting off a potential escape route.

She was around the corner, about eight meters away. Desperately trying to control her breathing. It came in pained hisses through her teeth. He shook his head, walking forward. The program assembled an almost pointillist image. One hand at her side, another clutching something.

A crossbow. Not the one he'd assembled for her.

Her hand raised.

He stepped backward. A crossbow bolt came through the wall, shadowy. It slammed into the wall next to him. She cursed.

Shadow Stalker ran, and he pursued.

Her hands tried to reload the crossbow while moving. That's why he'd made the pneumatic one. She threw it at him, and he stepped back and to the side. No risks.

She dove out the side of the wall, where he had sent the cycle. If she had been wearing her mask with the lenses he'd made, she'd have seen it.

A net with electrical charges fired out from it.

 

[dasstan]

Shadow Stalker ran, and he pursued.

Click to shrink...

I got Dark Tower deja vu.

I really like how you wrote Colin, and the difference between this and canon keep building. I love it.

 

[Athelmar]

Sorry if anyone else has already said this but:

Recon had left, with Patriot.

Click to shrink...

Recon = Queen Admin?

Patriot = Miss Militia?

And, good Coil?

 

[Ack]

Wow, Taylor really messed her up.

Pretty sure that if she wasn't suffering so badly, Sophia would've put up a much better fight.

So this takedown is partially Taylor's collar, too.

 

[Harbin]

I got Dark Tower deja vu.

I really like how you wrote Colin, and the difference between this and canon keep building. I love it.

Click to shrink...

Wow I didn't even notice that. Now I'm getting Dark Tower flashbacks.

Thanks!

Sorry if anyone else has already said this but:
Recon = Queen Admin?

Patriot = Miss Militia?

And, good Coil?

Click to shrink...

Recon is QA Chevalier.

Patriot is Miss Militia. She rebranded as Patriot after things happened.

There is nothing so insidious or manipulative as a steadfast ally who has only their own interests in mind.

 

[Harbin]

Wow, Taylor really messed her up.

Pretty sure that if she wasn't suffering so badly, Sophia would've put up a much better fight.

So this takedown is partially Taylor's collar, too.

Click to shrink...

I guess some things never change.

Yeah, she was on the run for almost two days. Impressive, honestly.

 

[Biigoh]

COil is Thomas Calvert... hmmm... that power, it's not Tattletale's...

 

[dasstan]

COil is Thomas Calvert... hmmm... that power, it's not Tattletale's...

Click to shrink...

I think that we should focus on other Cauldron Capes for Tommy's power.

What Thinkers did Cauldron make?

Spur kind of fits, especially the part about getting more accurate precognition when there is chaos or lots of emotion.

 

[Harbin]

I think that we should focus on other Cauldron Capes for Tommy's power.

What Thinkers did Cauldron make?

Spur kind of fits, especially the part about getting more accurate precognition when there is chaos or lots of emotion.

Click to shrink...

There's not many thinkers to steal from in Worm whose powers worked with what I wanted Coil's to be. Most thinkers have some method of tattletaling whether it's through analysis/bullshit/microexpressions/etc. His is more similar to Accord + Dinah, although I'm going to keep specific details close to the vest.

 

[dasstan]

There's not many thinkers to steal from in Worm whose powers worked with what I wanted Coil's to be. Most thinkers have some method of tattletaling whether it's through analysis/bullshit/microexpressions/etc. His is more similar to Accord + Dinah, although I'm going to keep specific details close to the vest.

Click to shrink...

I actually thought of both of them when I was trying to think of different thinkers, but dismisses them because they're both natural triggers.

I take it Emily and Thomas are fire forged friends and are working the PRT/Protectorate from both sides?

 

[Harbin]

I actually thought of both of them when I was trying to think of different thinkers, but dismisses them because they're both natural triggers.

I take it Emily and Thomas are fire forged friends and are working the PRT/Protectorate from both sides?

Click to shrink...

They aren't friends, per say but they have similar goals. He wasn't incarcerated and didn't do anything particularly awful in the limelight.

 

[Xicree]

They aren't friends, per say but they have similar goals. He wasn't incarcerated and didn't do anything particularly awful in the limelight.

Click to shrink...

In the limelight... ~whistles~

 

[Harbin]

3.1

Cohesion
​

It was an eventful series of days.

Sophia was captured. I got the flute back. We went home. Dad and I cleaned. Sophia hadn't wrecked the place, but it was amazing what we'd let be, and downright ignored.

I got used to having perfect vision. Slightly better than perfect vision, actually. I could see incredibly well, at least compared to what I'd been capable of seeing previous to Panacea's tuneup. The 'I didn't have to worry about cancer in 5-10 years' was a real load off my shoulders as well. Well, I hadn't known about it, but… A shrug off my shoulders, then.

Coil gave us his card. We received a settlement from the PRT, along with a NDA about Shadow Stalker. Dad and I elected to take it. I just wanted to wash my hands of the whole deal. I made the mistake of calling Brandish afterward rather than beforehand. She made a noise that I assumed was a sigh of exasperation and 'god damn it'.

Oh. They also uh, gave me back my clothes. Armsmaster had needed to cut me out of them. Right.

Yeah. I was also covered in blood and unconscious, but talk about embarrassing. They all had long cuts down the side.

They also helped transport the metal, until I got there to help out.

And like that, my suspension was over. It felt odd, to the point of cognitive dissonance. I struggled to reconcile the fact that someone had tried to kill me. I had expected her to try or something, but like, now I was going back to school? Were there school supplies for dealing with this? I was going to go back and pretend nothing had ever happened, that it was all just part of another life?

Apparently.

I sat in class. Not wearing my armor made me feel vulnerable. It made me want to constantly look around, checking for threats. I could be making more armor right now. The metal was there. My scarf was wrapped around my arm, under my sleeve. My shoes still had their metal.

So at least I could cheat real good at soccer and dramatic posing.

I wondered what rumors were going on about me now. Had I killed Sophia? Was I secretly Armsmaster in disguise?

Could this class be possibly be any more boring? I scribbled in my brand new notebook. Mr. Quinlan just made math worse than it already was. His quiet, droning voice made me want to sleep. Who cared about sin, cos, and tan, proofs, whatever, when I could violate the laws of physics on a whim?

Perhaps I was going a little off the rails with my career prospects, but really. At what point in my life was any of this going to be useful if I already had a potential secure career path?

Maybe I could make a tangible difference as a mathematician, but thinkers would always one-up me. Heck, I could serve as a one-person transport squad if given time and resources.

...Luggage weight would never be a concern.

Man, I had the best power for making life easier on a very mundane, preparation level. Heck, I could even cheat on tests with it. Not that I would. I was going to keep my studying up. If only because I'd agreed to with Dad. And Mom would have wanted it.

I scribbled in my notebook some more. My doodles took up about three-fourths of the page. The notes took up the rest.

Not all of them were notes about the class. I really needed to pay some attention.

Class ended early. Lunch time.

I ate and nobody came to try mess with me. It was a little lonely, but holy crap it was amazing. No snide comments, nothin'. Emma was absent. Madison glanced at me, and then ran off.

Woo! Perks of getting into a fight with the top bitch and having her mysteriously disappear afterward after breaking her hand. It scared me.

I wasn't worried about my reputation or anything. It was more the apparent facade this whole hero thing was. Everyone pretended I was normal. Maybe some knew, maybe they didn't. I was pretty sure Madison and Emma knew. Had they told everyone to back off because they knew what I'd done? Because they knew what Sophia had tried to do to me?

It seemed like Sophia to boast, before she started things up. Had Emma known, then had Sophia contact her while she was on the run?

Ugh. Too many questions, too many possibilities to consider. Had to pay attention in World Issues. Wait, did Blackwell know about me now the way she knew about Sophia?

Mundane life was really mundane. School was a slog, so I put on those galoshes and waded through.

Okay. I was getting a little worried about my reputation after someone came up and hit on me. I was honestly a bit flattered before I recognized they were from the E88 side of things. I think they were from the E88 side of things. I could have been wrong. If so, I wasn't aware that 'thanks for taking out that nig bitch' was common nomenclature.

I had figured my biggest worry was getting shanked. Now it was getting recruited.

--​

I called Dreampulse, AKA Crystal Pelham, after school. Busy. Right. She was a college student. Probably in classes later than I was. Or just on her way home or something. How about Parian?

Parian answered. One out of two wasn't bad.

"Hello. This is Parian. May I ask who this is?" I wasn't sure what I was expecting from an apparent fashion designer and someone who'd been commissioned for floats for the last gala- but it wasn't the hesitant, almost timid voice that came across.

Did I sound like that? "Hi, this is a wannabe hero. I was hoping to maybe make an appointment, discuss some potential costume designs. I spoke with Brandish and the PRT. Brandish recommended I call you."

"Oh. Uhm, I can put you in tomorrow. If, that would be okay with you?" All her sentences sounded like questions, but enthusiasm had slipped in. "Brandish recommended me? That's very nice of her."

I felt the urge to take my glasses off and rub them. It was hard to do with them folded up in my room. This girl was making me feel insecure by proxy, like she was scared of something, so I should also be scared of that something.

"That sounds good. Thank you, Parian. What time would be best for you? I have classes until around three, but after that, I should be able to meet." I tried to push more confidence and encouragement into my voice.

"Is five good for you?" It seemed like there was an unsaid add-on of 'if it's not, we can change it, that's okay.'

"Yes. Thank you so much." Poor girl. I tried to think of what might have happened to her to cause that. Maybe she'd been bullied, or harassed.

A number I didn't recognize called a few minutes later.

"Hello? May I ask who this is?" I echoed Parian's words by accident, wincing.

"Hello, Templar. This is Coil. If it's a good time for you, I'd like to do some testing with your power, and make you an offer. Feel free to consult with your father. I just have some items you might be interested in to-" He paused. "Improve your power's effectiveness."

 

[abyssmal_kismet]

"Hello, Templar. This is Coil. If it's a good time for you, I'd like to do some testing with your power, and make you an offer. Feel free to consult with your father. I just have some items you might be interested in to-" He paused. "Improve your power's effectiveness."

Click to shrink...

Damn it all! Intellectually, I'm sure Coil is on the up-and-up. Emotionally, this is extremely ominous.

 

[DinoHank]

Damn it all! Intellectually, I'm sure Coil is on the up-and-up. Emotionally, this is extremely ominous.

Click to shrink...

Couldn't have said it better. He's such a slimy asshole in canon and basically all fanfic as well, he inspires mistrust even when there is no reason to doubt his intentions. There are few other characters in fiction that makes me feel like that.

 

[Biigoh]

Magitek armor them?

 

[Harbin]

3.2​

I went. Of course I went. Coil had helped me out, and if I could get something better than scrap iron for my armor, it'd be amazing. Dad had enough cash that we could possibly get some better materials now, but the thought of combining tinker stuff and having like super-armsmaster power armor was an amazing thought.

--​

Turns out I couldn't have super-armsmaster power armor.

Not for lack of trying, though. Apparently my power played havoc with tinkertech electronics. Something about things being twisted with in my power. In addition, a lot of tinker materials felt alien to my power. I couldn't merge them effectively, and when I did, it was generally more effective to just use conventional materials. Thus vanished Taylor Hebert's dreams of becoming the next Armsmaster Mark II.

It was possible to create a tinkertech interface, that hooked up to my armor. If i made real armor. But then it became difficult to maintain, which was apparently an issue with tinkertech. It was just so difficult to incorporate the stuff into my armor. It didn't click, or slide in, even when the objects were similar.

It occurred to me that Coil probably had more important things to do, but he was here, looking at my abilities, analyzing them, making suggestions.

I could sort of potentially detect tinkertech, if only because I could immediately feel the resistance my power put up against it. My power didn't extend to just weight, durability, and similarity, I could also conceivably make weapons the size of the largest item without much difficulty in how I was holding it.

However, I needed to be very careful in how I used it. I was allowed to meld a shotgun and a pistol, and it took about eight minutes to do. Coil had suggested that the 'similarity' was a conceptual melding in my head. That I was allowing objects that I perceived to be as sharing common traits to be pushed together. The more common traits they shared, the easier it was.

The pistol-shotgun was fired by a machine. Just in case.

It exploded, so that was for the best. It was decided that I wouldn't do more live firearms testing, because of the risk to the weapons.

Coil was interested if the similarities were 'hard set' by my power, or if they could change as determined by my preferences. Or, if they were determined by the zeitgeist. If I was born and raised in another area, would my power and what it recognized as 'similar' be different?

It was odd (but intriguing) to look at it that way, but it certainly did add to why he was interested in my power. I guess most powers didn't exactly operate on vagaries like mine did.

He encouraged me to try establishing relationships between vastly different objects and seeing how they worked. For instance, if I carried something on me at all times, was that a 'similarity' as my ability interpreted it? If I tried to skirt the laws of my ability we'd be able to figure out exactly where those rules were.

And that would help me remove weaknesses.

Osmium. They obviously couldn't give me much, and were going to charge me and Dad if things went wrong, but I was able to manipulate it like clay, when it was the clay I'd combined it with. I explained how I'd made my armor, and how I'd gone through it to make my things.

They were very interested. Lowering the melting point of metals, potential superconductor work. Apparently tinkers were better for superconductor stuff by a long shot, but manipulating metals for easier use and potentially safe transport of radioactive stuff was a pretty big deal to them. The tinker demand for materials that were normally very difficult to shape was immense.

Everything fell into place as I reflected on this. I was seeing some sort of- overlay? Overlap. Some sort of parahuman overlap between themselves and their power. I wonder what would happen if I saw Scion, if Vista made me want to glance away. Perhaps it was related to memories of trigger events- no, Shadow Stalker hadn't been in an alleyway in costume when she'd triggered, I'd received pieces? Pieces. Of her daily life. Mostly strong emotion. Was that it? Strong emotion related to her power, maybe?

It made sense. Maybe the longer I spent around them, the more I could see the overlap and see more fragments that were related?

Or was it because Shadow Stalker and I had fought? When Sophia had attacked me, I had seen multiple flashes, pieces. When we'd verbally sparred- Huh. That seemed potentially very dangerous.

Coil smiled at me, and all his teeth were in it. Did he know? I hoped not. I'd been staring at my hands until now, when I'd looked up to see him approaching.

Apparently Dragon wanted to talk to me after hearing that last bit. Osmium. Tantalum. Rhenium. Right.

I was stunned. Talk about a crazy turnaround. Coil patted me on the shoulder as we walked into the elevator.

--​

Apparently, Dragon had been here in (sort of) person to show off her new remote mech to Armsmaster. It was an almost humanoid model, lion-esque legs with jets on the joints. The suit itself was only eight feet tall, as opposed to most of her other models. It even had a human face installed, surrounded by tech and armor. Somehow it blended in, along with the draconic tail. "Hello, Templar."

When she spoke, I could see something behind her, almost like the shadows I'd seen in parahumans. It was odd. Perhaps because it was similar to her, I was seeing a sort of 'overlay' there? Was it because I associated her more heavily with her machines than the actual social recluse Dragon?

I had so many questions, now. I wanted to go talk with Dad about these. Someone. Without getting locked up for not disclosing this information. Or locked up for being able to see capes in and out of their secret identity or something.

"Hello. Dragon. I'm, I'm- I'm a fan." I blushed, thankful for the half-mask I'd chosen to wear this time.

"Thank you, Templar. I always enjoy meeting new heroes. I'll be direct, as not to waste your time. I have a vested interest in keeping tinkers afloat. A lot of this is done through automation, whether that is of a nature involved in delegated tasks, to allow for more time, or for a means of creating more pure products." She paused, allowing me to process. After I nodded, she continued. "Tinkers have exceedingly odd requests. Two of today's log. Two incisors, must be less than a day old. Foamed rhodium, baked to one inch hexagonal ceramic chips in a zero-g environment. Sometimes they request less difficult things to procure, but by nature, the act of creating the ingredients for their creations take up a great deal of time."

"You want me to help?" My voice squeaked.

"Yes. Your ability can help. I'll have to pass it through channels, but I'd like to offer you a job. It won't take much of your time, but I'd be willing to set a fair commission for each thing you produce. The possibility of being able to spool otherwise incredibly brittle materials, potentially treating fibers as gallium, and experiment with them is worth it to me. It's hard enough, reserving time to experiment with tinkers that specialize with particular environments." Dragon folded back on her haunches, a smile stretching across her face. I wondered what material that was made out of, and how many hours of work it took.

"I'll have to- to talk with my Dad." I couldn't get my voice under control. I was getting scouted by Dragon, and I wasn't a tinker.

 

[Ack]

Being able to treat unworkable materials as workable is something that Dragon - and any engineer, Tinker or otherwise - would pay HUGE dollars for.