Safe For Work Worm Ideas thread

[SamPardi]

Total sharing of information; they're basically now a four-way split personality. No-one has ascendance in control over their body(ies), so they have to learn to play nice together.

Hijinks ensue.

Click to shrink...

I think I would go slightly less extreme than that. I'd say have each of them keep each other's powers, but degrading over time, like a month or two. Lisa and Taylor's power together should give them a sort of short range telepathy, I'd think, especially if they were using Taylor's trick of dumping her emotions into the swarm.

There should be a quite a few decent ripples out from that both plotwise and NSFW. Like all of them suddenly being Vickysexual... Even Vicky. Amy having to save all the hostages from Black Widow bites with the unfortunate knowledge that it really was her overall fault they got bitten. (Honestly I've never known why nobody ever called her on this. Even before Vicky showed up she was purposefully acting to fuck up a master's control over her insects when that very control was the only thing keeping them from acting on their instincts and biting everyone to death. Sure she could heal them but there was still another villain with a completely unknown power still in the bank. Imagine if it had been Trickster rather than Tattletale and Taylor was temporarily knocked out by the fire-extinguisher. There would have been masses of dead hostages, panacea injured, and still likely no captured villains to show for it.) More fun with the Dallons, what'll happen to Carol's mental state if Vicky starts actively choosing Amy over her?

Anyways, with the separation you also have some tension for the continuation. I mean, of course they learn to lean on their new powers as crutches, just like their old ones, but these are fading. Is it worth melding again? Do they really want the others to know their thoughts and what they've been up to in the last month or so? Should they add anyone else to the group? Can they game this to act more to their advantage if its purposeful? Will Amy's power push her to using this new expression? Can she even use her power in the old way? Even if she can, will she want to go back to a support role when she finally has a taste of what it's like to be an Alexandria package?

 

[Navrin]

Random power idea: Stranger power that convinces everyone that this person absolutely cannot be a cape. This includes Zion and, theoretically, Eden. Nobody can even seriously entertain the idea, dismissing it as ridiculous. Even if the person with the Stranger power loudly insists that they are and provides brain scans.

Two big effects from this: One, source of buds no matter what. Two, trump interaction. Depower effects can't work because the shards are convince the person isn't a parahuman. Power granters work even when they shouldn't. The effect might even lead to them disbelieving the stranger is using a parahuman power (granted by somebody else) because that's silly; they don't have parahuman capabilities.

 

[Navrin]

Coil is still an amoral sociopath, but for whatever reason (different power, differing inspiration striking, whatever) he decides to take over Brockton Bay using rogues and heroes instead of villains and heroes.

The Undersiders, if they exist, are either heroes or performing some useful rogue activity to influence the city in the way Coil desires. Whether that's helping fund, defend, and guide start-ups, make video games, become local celebrities, or whatever he had in mind, they make Brockton Bay better while funneling at least some of the credit back to Coil.

Coil gets to humiliate Piggot and her subordinates in entirely new and exciting ways, and odds are he'd have recruited his Thinker allies in a way that's less antagonist and thus likely to get him killed.


If he has a different power he'd probably have a lot less in the way of psychopathic tendencies due to him not building up those kinds of habits from simulations as he can't get away with them even close to as readily. Better all around, probably.


This idea could probably be taken into a NSFW direction relatively easily if desired (Erotic voice actors/actresses being just one possibility) but it's a mild alteration to the idea, not anything important to the concept.

 

[volantredx]

Just an idea that came to me. Will link other parts later. Too tired now.

For Justice part 3
​

'This is awkward' I squirmed in my seat. Across from me Glory Girl held her gaze steady. I could feel the heat of her stare even as I tried to focus on the video in front of me. Judging by the other looks in the room everyone found our one sided staring contest far more interesting than the tape. A few more minutes of nervous fidgeting later and the lecture concluded. I stood quickly and marched out of the room stiffly.

As I hurried down the hall I heard another set of foot steps following close behind. Swallowing my nervous feelings I turned and locked eyes with Glory Girl. I did my best to stand up straight and hold my chin up. If she wanted to fight, fine, I wasn't about to spend the rest of my life ducking at her shadow. I had enough of that in one lifetime. She drew up close, trying to make me back away. I stood my ground.

"I know what you're doing." She told me.

"I was going to pick up my costume. I have patrol in a few minutes." If she was going to try and mess with me I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of playing along.

"You know what I mean." She accused glaring hard at me.

"I do?" Honestly I really only had a vague idea.

"Yes, you do." She poked me hard in the chest. "People don't change. Especially not people like you. You may have gotten everyone else to play along but not me."

"People like me?" I was actually getting lost at this point.

"Villains. Bad guys." She said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Evil people don't just stop and become good people."

"Evil?" I almost laughed, "I'm not evil. I may not be perfect, but who is?"

"You stole, you hurt innocent people, and you and your little gang attacked heroes. Real heroes. That sounds pretty evil to me."

"I had my reasons," I said in my defence.

"Your kind always does. Reasons, excuses, one dumb defence or another. It doesn't make what you did any better." Scorn dripped from her tone.

"I admit it. I've made mistakes. I've done things I'm not proud of, but I've done things I am proud of. It's not always simple black and white."

"And sometimes it is. There is right and there is wrong, and the difference between the two isn't hard to figure out."

"I know that," Now I was getting angry, I didn't need someone like her judging me. "I realize that I got a lot to make up for. That's why I'm here, fixing things."

"Oh yeah I've heard all about you little 'redemption' plan." She actually used finger quotes for the word redemption. "That's not justice. That's you escaping punishment. God they aren't even trying to hide it. They may as well give a free ride to every two bit punk who says sorry."

"Sammy thinks it will encourage-"

"That Slut?" She snorted, "you would get along with her."

"Hey!" Then I really got pissed. I can take insults, especially from the likes of her, but I wasn't going to let her tear down someone that wasn't here to defend themselves "Don't talk like that."

"God damn, do you even know what that bitch is like? No, of course you wouldn't. When she's not ranting about being all edgy, her favorite pass time is getting too drunk to walk. That's not even getting into what she is like around the guys. Do you know how many times I caught her sniffing around Dean? All the times she had to 'refit his costume'? Or the way she was always touching him in public? He was 17! She's over 40! That's sick, but I guess to you it's one of those not so simple things, huh?"

I paused before answering, I couldn't believe that was the whole story. Would the PRT really keep her working if she was some kind of pervert? There had to be more to it. "I didn't know about any of that. How can you say I agree with that if I never knew about it?"

"Whatever," She dismissed me with a shake of her head. "You're not worth the fight. Just tell me this, have you ever done anything to make up for your shit? Really do something? Not just patrol, not just do the bare minimum of helping. Something important?"

"I-" part of me wanted to tell her about Dinah. Tell her about the plan to save her, but I couldn't. 'Trust no one, tell no one.' Armsmaster ordered me, I wouldn't break that trust now. I wasn't going to let pride ruin everything. I didn't need Glory Girl's respect. Saving that little girl was more important than trying to be liked. So I held my tongue.

When I didn't answer Glory Girl smirked, "that's what I thought."

With that she started to walk away, and I noticed something I hadn't before. I was taller than her. She tried to hide it but even in heels her eyes were level with my nose. It was a small thing but I latched on to it. She wasn't some goddess, or some paragon of virtue like she tried to act. She was just another person, a 17 year old girl, and she was shorter than me.

As she walked away Dennis passed her and they had a few words that I couldn't make out. Than Dennis started to walk up to me. I still wasn't allowed to go out alone, so he was my escort today.

"Hey," he seemed nervous, I didn't know if he was always like that or if it was me.

"Hi," I greeted back turning to head to the locker room. Dennis followed falling into pace next to me.

"So..." He started, breaking the silence, "I saw you talking to Victoria. Anything interesting?"

I just grunted in return. Of all the things that little spat was, interesting wasn't one of them.

"Yeah that was what she said too. You remember that thing I said about teams needing to trust each other?"

"She hates me," I told him. They all did really. One way or another.

"I don't think she hates you. She's been through a lot. That's all." I couldn't tell if he was lying to cheer me up or was that blind.

"No, she hates me. You all do." I held up a hand before he could say anything. "Don't lie, I'm used to people hating me. I know what it's like."

Dennis sighed, then ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I can only speak about me here, but I don't hate you. I don't like you, and I really don't trust you, but I don't hate you."

"Well at least you're honest." I said sarcastically. It was a little refreshing, I could deal with everyone hating me. It was the pretending like we were all friends that bothered me. I knew a lie when I saw one.

"It's not like you make it easy. You never talk unless someone talks too you. You never ask anyone about life, never act like you care about us. If you act like you don't belong then you'll never belong. My dad always said that. I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, even try to forget some of the shit in the past. All I ask is that you try to make friends. Deal?"

He held out his hand to shake. I looked at it trying to think of the trick. He could always freeze me when I touch him, or maybe the Wards would fake being my friends then laugh behind my back. Or, or, or maybe he was trying to be nice. Could I trust that? I didn't know if I had it in me. It hurt to much to hope anymore. Still, if it wasn't a lie, then could I really say no? I looked back at his face looking for the give away that it was some joke, and saw nothing. I would let myself hope, one last time, I reached out and shook. He gave me a small smile.

"For a second I thought you weren't going to shake it. That would have made me look like a total jack ass."

"For a second I thought that you would freeze me." I told him. Best get used to the idea of being honest. I was getting sick of always hiding something. If I was going to be a hero I would make myself be brave.

"Oh? Nah, that would ruin this whole moment thing I was hoping for. 'Sides if I was looking to get even I'd have to think of something so much more fucked up. N-not that I am or anything just you know." He trailed off turning to look away.

"Get even?" I asked. 'I knew it wouldn't be easy.'

"For the bank," I must have given him a look because he continued. "You know cockroaches in the mouth and ears and things. I still get nightmares."

"Oh! Oh man, I-I didn't realize." I started to panic. I remember that now. Why hadn't he mentioned it before? "I would have said something a lot earlier. I'm so sorry. I just needed to stop you. I-"

He put a hand on my shoulder. "Relax, really, if you asked me two weeks ago I'd say it was in like the top three worst things I've had to deal with. Now...now it wouldn't make the top ten."

Dennis looked away, staring off not really seeing anything. I knew what he was talking about. I thought the city was bad before Leviathan hit. Now it was like trying to put out a fire with a water pistol, and someone kept stealing your water bucket. The merchants were the worst, but with Weld here Armsmaster said we can start to really work to take them down.

"Still," I said. "I am sorry. I know it's not much but it's what I got."

"Well, it's not nothing. Just send me a film of the next time you take down a bunch of rapist assholes with a swarm of hornets and we'll call it square."

"Sounds fair," I told him before the silence fell again as we headed down the hall. This time it was a lot less tense. Even nice, strangely.

We stayed quiet until we reached the locker areas. I had only been able to patrol for the last week or so, my costume took awhile to dye just right. It drove me nuts not to be out there helping. Even working as dispatch didn't make me feel like I was making an impact. When I wasn't on duty I did what I could to take care of a lot of the pest issues that had popped up in the wake of Leviathan. Still now with my costume ready I was out on the street as much as I could be.

Thinking about my costume reminded me of something else Glory Girl had said. Turning to Dennis I thought about how to phrase it. If I said something wrong I didn't want it to get back to Sammy. If Glory Girl was just trying to be a bitch I didn't need to have the PR rep think I was listening to rumors.

"Hey, uh Dennis?" 'Smooth start so far' I chided myself.

"Yeah?"

"Um I was wondering something about Miss Hendrickson."

"Sammy? If it's about the swearing, no she never stops. If it's about all the pouches she wants you to carry you can just tell her about it being hard to to fight in and she take some off. Poor Vista was half belt before she put her foot down."

"No, it's not that. It's just, well Glory Girl said something about her coming on to Dean."

"Oh, that." Now he was the one that seemed nervous. "She's like that with most of the guys. I don't think she really means anything by it. It's just how she is. You should see her around the full Protectorate members. I almost think Armsy thought about getting a spray bottle just for when he has to talk to her. I don't mind really. Dean never did either, I think. Bothered Victoria a lot, but she didn't need to be jealous. Dean was really into her."

It still seemed sketchy in my mind, but who was I to argue? He'd know better than I would. Giving Dennis a smile, I headed into the locker room and quickly pulled out my costume. Laying out the body suit and all the new additions I had to admit, it was a lot of pouches.

 

[Prince Charon]

OK, Sammy isn't as nice as I thought, but I doubt she's quite as bad as Victoria thinks, either.

 

[TanaNari]

There's a lot of focus on this OC. I suspect foreshadowing shenanigans. Possibly of the Master/Stranger variety.

 

[volantredx]

OK, Sammy isn't as nice as I thought, but I doubt she's quite as bad as Victoria thinks, either.

Click to shrink...

Like Taylor said, things aren't that simple. On one hand Dennis is right in the fact that Sammy isn't really meaning any of it. It's not a total joke, just less sinister than Vicky thinks. On the other hand Vicky has a point that it is a 43 year old woman flirting with a 17 year old boy. It's not really a good thing. The best excuse is that she is like that with most men and does have limits.

There's a lot of focus on this OC. I suspect foreshadowing shenanigans. Possibly of the Master/Stranger variety.

Click to shrink...

Not really. This was supposed to be more a contrast between how former enemies would react to Taylor switching sides. The stuff with Sammy was there to show that she's not liked by a lot of people. It sort of got away from me. I'll be toning down her involvement in the next parts if I write them. I was just trying to round out the cast a bit.

 

[evildice]

Like Taylor said, things aren't that simple. On one hand Dennis is right in the fact that Sammy isn't really meaning any of it. It's not a total joke, just less sinister than Vicky thinks. On the other hand Vicky has a point that it is a 43 year old woman flirting with a 17 year old boy. It's not really a good thing. The best excuse is that she is like that with most men and does have limits.


Not really. This was supposed to be more a contrast between how former enemies would react to Taylor switching sides. The stuff with Sammy was there to show that she's not liked by a lot of people. It sort of got away from me. I'll be toning down her involvement in the next parts if I write them. I was just trying to round out the cast a bit.

Click to shrink...

Sammy seems like an interesting character, but a really terrible fit for PR. Like one of the worst people possible for that job.
- Casual swearing
- Flirting with clients
- Lack of social awareness

Like, all this stuff could work in a character, but not the local head of PR.

 

[doomlord9]

Sammy seems like an interesting character, but a really terrible fit for PR. Like one of the worst people possible for that job.
- Casual swearing
- Flirting with clients
- Lack of social awareness

Like, all this stuff could work in a character, but not the local head of PR.

Click to shrink...

I was wondering about that too. I was thinking that she was putting on an act to make herself 'Not Authority' in Taylor's eyes because it's well established in her file that she has issues with authorities, thus if her recruiter isn't officious and seems to have her own problems with 'The Man' telling her what to do then Taylor would be more receptive to what she has to say.

 

[volantredx]

Sammy seems like an interesting character, but a really terrible fit for PR. Like one of the worst people possible for that job.
- Casual swearing
- Flirting with clients
- Lack of social awareness

Like, all this stuff could work in a character, but not the local head of PR.

Click to shrink...

She's largely based on a girl I knew in college that was a marketing major. She had all the major traits. That said she has two saving graces, she is able to get serious when she needs to be, understanding time and place, and she has a strong work ethic, willing to work 12 hour days everyday. Not having a life outside of work makes that a lot easier.

 

[SamPardi]

Heaven, Hell and Everything In-Between

Spoiler: image

Image from very early concept art for Bayonetta. Colette is based off the middle figure. Kathrine is based off the first figure.

"ABOMINATION!" Ramiel wheezed out as neon blue blood seeped into her lungs and out across the scorched dirt.

"I am what you made me, bitch." Colette said as she swaggered towards the fallen angel. Well fallen in the more literal sense. Somehow the bitch still held Heaven's favor. Wasn't that just a cherry on top of the bullshit-pie.

"We needed PE-" Ramiel choked on the very word she'd attempted to roar.

"Right, you and your false peace. Well, here I am. I am the results of your peace. Are you impressed now!?" Colette replied.

"Kaziel--" Ramiel's words were cut off by another bullet of light entering her gut.

"NEVER CALL ME THAT NAME!" Colette roared. "She's dead because of you! The Angel of Innocence, sent off to be raised by succubi! No! No... That name no longer has any meaning."

Ramiel tried to speak but choked on her blood. Instead she just glared at her killer with eyes filled with hate.

"Well, since you aren't much longer for this life I'll let you in on a little secret. This war you've started with your empty words and false peace, I'm not joining it. So you won't have to worry about me gunning down your sisters or anything like that. I'll be gone and you can have your bloodshed. So much I hope they all choke on it." Colette finished with a growl. "You know about that, now, don't you. Choking. It must be so hard getting from one breath to the next--"

She was interrupted when a bullet of light smashed into the angel's temple and their head exploded like an overripe melon. Her eyes blinked as she turned to the interloper. "Did you have to do that, I was having fun!"

"It was merciful." The new woman stated quietly. They were a study in contrasts, Colette's blond hair and open disposition to the others dark hair which hid most of her face. Colette wore eye catching patterns and a giant golden buckle on her gun-belt. Her opposite wore solid, dark colors and had only the glove locking in her entire left arm as ostentatious accessory.

"Yeah, yeah. Come on Kathrine, one last kiss before we blow this joint?" Colette asked her companion. The Devil raised by Heaven didn't reply with words but instead covered the distance between them in a quick hop and gave her a searing kiss. Neither much minded as they moved from mere kissing to heavy petting. It was only reluctantly that Colette broke the kiss. "Time to go, babe."

The Angel raised in Hell mimed pulling at her lips and a soft pink glow followed her fingers. She flung them out and a doorway shaped like a heart formed a few meters away from them. "I found a loophole to finally get us out of here. I just needed to aim for somewhere that could accurately be described as 'Hell on Earth'! And then filtered for places we won't be attacked the instant we step through the doorway of course. Everyone knows war is hell, but I've no interest in walking into one."

Kathrine nodded to her and held out her hand. Colette smiled and grabbed the offered hand in a grip that would have crushed a mere mortal's hand, the only outward sign of her nerves. Each took a deep breath and then they walked, together, through the doorway to their new life.

---

Taylor Hebert shivered uncontrollably as the temperature in the locker dropped. Without the active heating available during the school day the New England winter's chill was starting to seep into the school itself. She was already feeling tried and encrusted where she wasn't outright slimy. Thinking on it just made her shiver harder.

Suddenly she heard the sounds of boots tapping on the floor. "High school. Really, I should have expected this." A feminine voice stated in a cultured tone. "Ugh, what is that stench? I had expected freedom to smell sweeter."

"Your freedom, someone else's hell. Or have you already forgotten." The rebuke was soft but cut through the air like the words of a player on a stage.

She tried to scream out for help, but she'd already driven herself hoarse. Instead she merely rasped in a way that made her throat burn and weekly fumbled against the door.

"Did you hear that?" The cultured voice asked.

"Of course. Perhaps another suffers still." The soft voice replied. Only a single set of boots sounded against the floor, yet she saw two shadows pause in front of the slats of her locker. "NOT with the gun. You'll cause damage where it is not due. Honestly, have some delicacy."

The fingers of a gloved hand slid through the metal of her locker like it was nothing and tore out the locking mechanism entirely. "Delicacy is for the pleasure of maidens. I prefer to get things done!" Taylor fell forwards against the suddenly open air and was barely caught in the arms of a darkly clothed woman. "Ugh, more stench. How delightful."

"Your words are unnecessary and cruel, Colette. Be silent for a time, lest I find it needful to cure your voice of it's bite." The dark clothed woman said with her same soft strength. "Try not to flinch, my lamb, though it may appear terrifying it shall not burn."

Taylor was confused by her warning until she found herself consumed in a blue-white flame. She squirmed at first against the woman's strong hold, but then she realized that she honestly couldn't feel it beyond a comforting warmth that seeped into her skin. Soon the flames passed leaving only a faint scent of ash and sulfur but none of the mess she'd been trapped in for so long. In fact she'd never felt so clean.

"There, little lamb. You're safe now. Colette, repair the damage then we can get this little lamb home." The dark clothed woman said. Taylor felt the word 'safe' in her very bones and broke down crying in the woman's arms.

"Aww, but... Okay. But you owe me kisses later, Kathrine, deep, passionate, toe curling kisses!" Colette replied and then blew a kiss at the locker which suddenly cleaned and repaired itself as though hit by one of those repairing spells in Harry Potter.

"When the lamb is safe in bed, you hound. Now, little lamb, focus on home. The word, the concept, feel it in your very bones." Kathrine instructed her. "Good. Now we can go."

Once again the blue-white fire flared up. But this time when it disappeared all three of them were standing in her living room. They were not alone.

"Taylor!" Her dad, Danny, practically leaped towards them but then stopped warily as he noticed both of the strangers with his daughter were armed. Taylor released her death grip on Kathrine and instead practically tackled her father as she sobbed into his chest allowing him to finally relax a bit.

"I believe her throat may be injured somewhat. It would be best if you waited for the morning to ask after what events transpired. We know only that we found her trapped in a locker along with what can only be described as the vilest of filth." Kathrine stated in her soft, clear voice. "Now that we have that taken care of. I believe we shall take our leave."

Taylor suddenly felt a spike of panic. They were leaving. She hadn't even thanked them or anything. With a twist she shifted position so she could reach out towards them. Kathrine smiled and took her hand, rubbing against it comfortingly. Even Colette grabbed her finger tips and laid a suave kiss on Taylor's knuckles. "Charming as it was, we really must leave," Colette stated with a wry grin.

'I wish they'd never leave,' Taylor thought with surprising yearning. A pink spark from Colette and a blue-white spark from Kathrine suddenly jumped from their hands to hers. In an instant pink and white runes covered her entire left arm from finger-tip to shoulder leaving only a single circle empty of runes. Within that circle three naked figures were intertwined, though more iconic it was easy to tell that it was Taylor standing in the center with Kathrine, though horned and with demon wings holding her close while Colette with a halo and angel wings hung off her in very suggestive pose.

All four people in the room stared at the arm in varying states of shock and wonder.

Finally Colette broke the silence. "Balls."

 

[evildice]

She's largely based on a girl I knew in college that was a marketing major. She had all the major traits. That said she has two saving graces, she is able to get serious when she needs to be, understanding time and place, and she has a strong work ethic, willing to work 12 hour days everyday. Not having a life outside of work makes that a lot easier.

Click to shrink...

Yeah but what you have is this professional adult acting like a college buddy to the new recruit, who is a total stranger.

There's no problem with her acting like that to Armsmaster (to his great annoyance) since they've been working together long enough to be non-strangers, and to have probably gone up through the ranks together. In other words, it's maybe justifiable that she treats Colin like a college buddy if their working relationship goes back far enough.

But if she's working in PR, she really ought to know something about first impressions, setting the tone to induce respect, dealing with teens, etc.

All four people in the room stared at the arm in varying states of shock and wonder.

Finally Colette broke the silence. "Balls."

Click to shrink...

Not familiar with the cross, but you have my interest.

 

[volantredx]

But if she's working in PR, she really ought to know something about first impressions, setting the tone to induce respect, dealing with teens, etc.

Click to shrink...

Who says she can't? Who do you think teens will respect more? A stuffed shirt that talks like they're hot shit or a woman that acts like a friend. It's not like she is like that to Piggot or Glenn or anything.

 

[ArnaudB]

Hum, still need to work on getting prompts done faster. Cross-posted from SB.

All Stations Passed
***​

She woke up to the sound of a whispering voice.

"Panacea, Panacea. Amy, wake up!"

"Um...What?" Opening her eyes was difficult as if she had slept for too long, and her arms were so tired that she couldn't wave off her interloper.

"We. Have. A. Problem." The voice seemed close, unfamiliar as she couldn't recognize it. Familiar bipping noises however started ringing from machines around the room and Amy forced herself awake.

"Hospital? I've someone to heal again?"

"We wouldn't be in the beds, then." Ugh. Too much light from the windows. Amy blinked away at the light, her arms refusing to budge and bring up the covers. She had to settle for turning her head away from the light, and took that opportunity to look at her neighbor. She didn't recognize the other girl, the stern eyes that stared half-blankly ahead, the far too long curvy hair, the pale face unused to working out. She did recognize her tone and whom recently had used it.

"Weaver?" Oh God, she was in the same room as the brainwashing Scion-killer. Who was the dump jerkass responsible for room assignment? Beside which, wasn't Weaver dead? She wasn't sane the last time either! Then again, Amy realized she was within Weaver all controlling range and nothing was going wrong.

The door slammed open and a nurse walked inside, distracting both Amy and the other girl.

"You're awake!" The sheer surprise in the woman's voice made Amy even more confused. Okay, she could guess that an accident had happened and she couldn't recall it right now. But why was Skitter beside her? Why was a nurse she knew was dead greeting them? "Thank Scion, we had lost hope."

"Sa...mantha?" The woman seemed to positively brighten at the recognition. It didn't make Amy less confused and she realized that like Skit...Weaver, she was having trouble talking.

"Hush dear. Don't force yourself, you really need to rest." Samantha thankfully shut down the beeping machines.
"Amy." The girl startled as she suddenly found the unmasked face of Weaver close enough from their linked bed's separation for Weaver's head to fall from her pillow. "Doctor is coming. Listen, don't... speak."

As if on cue a man in a white robe steeped inside the room along with a couple others members of the staff.

"Panacea... and miss Hebert. It's pleasure to see you back among the living. You've been missed." The words were clearly more directed toward Amy, but that only further confused the girl. Why her cape's name but Weaver's civilian one? Why wasn't there a PRT's squad or a single cape guarding the place? If she herself didn't deserve it, Weaver certainly merited one!

"What happened?" Amy asked, uncaring that Weaver bristled behind her. She needed information!

"Ah. Well-" The doctor paused from checking over her, he put on gloves before turning toward Weaver and seemed to need to gather his memories. "Miss Hebert was brought in comatose after an... incident at her school, I don't recall the specifics out of hand. You were called to look at her situation by the Protectorate, but soon after you touched her you went into a similar coma and have been ever since. Do you remember it?"

"I-" Amy did, the event was in her mind clashing with the rest of her memories. She remembered herself reaching for an unknown 'Taylor Hebert' who looked different and that she had never, but she had met Weaver before. "I do."
"Good." He turned toward Weaver who also nodded. "Your families are being warned as we speak. Miss Hebert's father should be here soon, and I'm sure your sister will fly there at full speed."

Her sister? She had to have misheard that. Amy started to ask for a confirmation, any confirmation, when Weaver spoke.

"How long?" Weaver's tone broke no deal, was filled with an undercurrent of tension, an uncertainty. Amy still almost snapped at her, hesitating only because she was fairly sure that Weaver imperative tone was meant for her. Going against the will of the Scion-killer momentarily stopped her, then she saw the Doctor's face twisting hesitatingly along with the nurse. A hint of dread started to build up alongside sudden hope.

"We're in 2013, twenty-fourth of June to be precise." Weaver didn't react noticeably, didn't seem shocked like Amy was. The twenty-fourth of June, today, the same day that they fought Scion. The doctor moved his hands in an attempt to reassure them. "Over two years, yes. That's why you need to stay in bed, your muscles are atrophied. Still you're remarkably aware for people who... slept for so long, that's a good sign."

"Any reason we're in the same room?" Weaver asked and Amy couldn't believe how much steel there was in damned Skitter... then she realized that was silly, Weaver's told her multiple times something was up. The girl's bugs probably gathered much more information than Amy currently had. Also... that was a good question, the Doctor looked really troubled by it.

"I am not sure if that's my place to say, but in favor of your two safety... Every-time we took a comatose Panacea eighteen feet away from miss Hebert, Miss Dallon lifesigns crashed. Hopefully this is no longer the case, but until that's certain I'd like you two to remain together."

Amy couldn't help but glance toward Weaver who returned a meaningful gaze. Eighteen feet, the range of Weaver's mental control after Amy altered her power during the battle against Scion. Seriously? There was no chance at all this was a coincidence! Weaver certainly seemed to agree.

"Amy! You're finally awake!" Then Victoria Dallon flew from the door at her and Amy was momentarily stunned as the form of her sister started to embrace her before carefully staying a distance away, probably saving her from a literal bone-crushing hug. Alive, not quite as Amy remembered her. Glory Girl looked older, more than two years by her -absurd, it was Victoria! childishness incarnate!- more mature posture. The costume had changed too. Still, beyond the fact that her sister was somehow alive and apparently not trying to kill or kiss her, Amy could only notice a single thing.

"Since when are you married?" Amy Dallon asked as she stared at the golden ring on her sister's hand.

*****

Spoiler: Prompt idea

Taylor and Amy lived through canon events to the end, then woke up from coma two years after Taylor Hebert triggered and Panacea went comatose trying to heal her.

 

[Snake/Eater]

Regent during golden morning did the impossible, he went back in time four weeks before Behemoth hits India. this is the story of the last days of Regent as he tries to do the impossible... save the world.(he ironically succeeds).

 

[Vanargandr]

So idea

Darkstalkers Universe- Lilith is fading away due to never fusing with Morrigan

In Worm- Taylor is in the locker yada yada

Basically she triggers as Lilith and some of Lilith's impulses translate to her

Ie a need to 'play' (fight), immense dislike (hatred) of anything Restraining

Powers: Minor Brute Ranking
Changer (Wings can transform into near damn anything and can even become living beings)
Blaster (Soul Fist)
Energy Seeker (lilith originally was a shapeless mass of energy, who took shape, Taylor can most likely EAT energy oh god she is gonna nimble on Purity for the obligatory lesbo moment)
Trump (DELICIOUS SHARD ENERGY NOMNOMNOMNOM)

And of course the obligatory moment where Taylor loses her temper and lilith impales Emma and Sophia on Wing Spears

 

[Biigoh]

Tanuki approve of delicious Lilith. Even if the tanuki loves her big sister. :3

 

[Navrin]

Brigh (http://www.pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Brigh) notices Earth Bet somehow (possibly drawn by Dragon or Andrew Richter) and champions the cause of "artificial" lifeforms. Many Tinkers start worshiping her as well as normal craftspersons, naturally, and some of them even become clerics.

With Brigh's help, Earth Bet might actually be able to outpace the Endbringers' destruction and at least slow the fall of civilization. Cauldron, of course, is probably warily pleased.

Some very basic spells are extreme game-changers, like the "protection-from-alignment" spells. Goodbye most human-master powers for at least small groups for an engagement period, and the higher-level spells continue the tradition.

Panacea and Parian would probably both worship Brigh and be way more awesome because of it and significantly less messed up. It wouldn't be out of the question that Andrew Richter was able to throw off the shard control and unchain Dragon entirely, especially if AI rights were explicitly a thing.

 

[Master of Squirrel-fu]

Yet another experimental ficlette that started as one thing then just kinda went off into I don't even know. I'm not sure if this still even counts as Worm...

The Star Child

Steel, glass, and stone, ever growing, ever toiling, ever in motion without a moments rest. The city by the sea and the pearl of the bay that rested on the chilled shores of the north. In it's youth and still reaching and lengthening it's stride. It shined as a beacon and it's warmth filled the hearts of those who called it home as they made their way through their days.

In the cold foggy morn one winters day worked the man. Tall and strong, he held an inner heat that could not be extinguished, one that only burned far brighter in the city. Toiling away on the ships that rested at the dock that was the cities soul and hearth. He worked to keep that fire burning and the city alive. His effort repaid in the satisfaction of it's own achievement.

But while his body labored his heart was elsewhere. In city, in his home, his heart was with his wife. A woman of quiet beauty whom he loved more than anything else. A love that was repaid in kind. He was a man who was blessed, but he could not help but feel a void, one his wife too had noticed. For all the love they held there was still one final piece that could not be filled. A piece reserved for their child who would never be.

A sad smile came to the mans face. His heart ached, the wound still fresh. But the man went back to his toiling, eager to ignore and forget the twice cutting pain. But the day eventually ended as they tend to do, and the melancholy was delayed no more. With a sigh the man began his journey back to his home for the night. A smile came again to his lips, both sad and sweet at the thought of returning to his wife.

But his thoughts were soon cut short. The man came to a halt as he felt his eyes drawn towards the heavens and from the sky came a soft light, the same warm gold as the sun. His sight followed as it descended from the sky into the nearby woods. The man, about to turn and make his leave, halted his step as he felt a gentle tug upon his heart. He turned back to the woods, having known better than to enter but felt so strongly the need to enter. He shook with a fear that he could not identify and indecision, unsure to continue or flee.

After a time he could not track he had come to his decision. Jaw squared he gulped and left his vehicle for the unknown, lead by the still heart. He wondered seemingly lost, traveling a twisting path in the dark with no means of orientation. He jumped at every sound and felt as if his heart were to burst. But the man did not flee. He wondered until his legs grew to feel like lead but he did not rest. He wandered for such a time that the moon hung high in the night sky but he continued without heed. And there he found his destination.

A gentle glow came from deeper in the woods, and with what felt the last of his strength the man pressed on past the hindering overgrowth. In the center of the woodland he came upon a clearing and in the clearing carried in the moon's gentle glow was a babe. Heedless the man walked forward and knelt beside the child still being held in the embrace of the moonbeam. The child's only protection was a single blanket wrapped around it, a piece of the night sky cut free to shield away the chill. And as the man moved to hold her the moonbeam moved in kind to allow him. With the child gently resting in his arms the moonbeam retreated skywards towards it's own home.

As the man gazed onto the sleeping babe's face he felt a warmth overtake him, his fatigue gone. And as he brushed his hand upon hers she reached out with her own, and in that moment the emptiness that had lingered was gone.

With a smile the man stood, holding the baby close, and once again began his trek home.

----------

I might continue this, probably not. I saw this youtube vid and started writing because of the feels. Those feels man...

 

[Zege]

Does anyone recall exactly what all Kaiser can do with the metals he creates? Is he able to say, launch or at least throw it? Or is he limited to growing it in shapes?

 

[Vanargandr]

Does anyone recall exactly what all Kaiser can do with the metals he creates? Is he able to say, launch or at least throw it? Or is he limited to growing it in shapes?

Click to shrink...

Well his dad the Allfather could Shoot Swords so assuming Kaiser's a bud (of course it is) there might be some possibilities

I mean Hookwolf shoots spikes out of his wolf later in canon so......

but mostly he uses it to Impale/Fields of Spears to control the field/harass while Frenja/Menja/Hookwolf do the heavy hitting

 

[Master of Squirrel-fu]

Well his dad the Allfather could Shoot Swords so assuming Kaiser's a bud (of course it is) there might be some possibilities

I mean Hookwolf shoots spikes out of his wolf later in canon so......

but mostly he uses it to Impale/Fields of Spears to control the field/harass while Frenja/Menja/Hookwolf do the heavy hitting

Click to shrink...

His Shard is closer to Theo's. he can generate metal blades anywhere on the terrain around him, larger ones take more time but he can do it fast enough to trap a stunned half Dragon'd out Lung.

 

[Zege]

Unbeta'd, fresh off the presses, and probably in need of serious work, but I present to you...

Embrace of Steel
A Fate/Stay Night inspired Worm AU

---

Chapter One

Taylor Hebert was caught, with no retreat in sight. She had underestimated the opposing forces motivation, and was now mired in an untenable situation.

Emma had called, and was now chattering on to Taylor about fashion.

"Taylor, you ready?" called the voice of a savior, echoing up the stairwell of the Hebert house.

Taylor stuck her head out of her room and called back, "Just a minute Mom!", then popped back into her room to end her friend's seemingly endless parade of opinions.

"Yeah, we're all heading out," Taylor said, cell phone pressed to her ear. "Okay. See you Monday?"

Hearing an affirmative, she hung up and pocketed her phone with a sigh of relief. Emma was her best friend - close as sisters, it felt at times - but could be a real chatterbox when she got going.

Taylor had been searching her closet for a particular shirt when her phone had rung, and now couldn't recall which one it had been. She huffed in annoyance and turned away from the closet, giving it up as a lost cause.

In doing so, she caught her reflection in the mirror. The silvered glass showed a girl of fifteen, slender and willowy, with impressive height for her age. She frowned at her lack of curves, and the too-wide mouth that emphasized her dour expression didn't help improve her opinion.

She couldn't help but compare herself to her friend, with her impressive proportions and attractive face. The only thing Taylor really felt she could match her in was her hair. Dark brown, curly tresses as compared to the fiery red locks Emma had, but no less well taken care of.

Taylor shook off her musings on her friend and finished getting ready for the evening. A simple white blouse over jeans and well-worn sneakers, with her favorite black hooded jacket for the night-time breeze. It would have to do.

It was a Saturday, and and for the Hebert family, that meant the Boardwalk. The three of them would pile into the beat up sedan and go for a drive on a family outing. Visiting the local shops - too pricey for them to shop in, but fun to browse - and on occasion catching a movie.

It was important to spend time together, as her father said. You never know when that time will be taken from you.

Taylor made her way downstairs, and met her parents in the living room. The pair stood at the front door, waiting on Taylor to leave, and smiled at her as she came into view.

"All ready?" asked her father, with a small smile.

Danny Hebert was a man that could only be described as 'gawky'. Tall, reed thin, and balding, he was not what one would call attractive. His eyes were large, and the glasses he wore enlarged them even further, giving him a slightly surprised look at all times.

Taylor smiled back. "Yeah, got distracted when Emma called, but I managed to get away unscathed."

Taylor's mother, Annette, laughed at that. "That girl can certainly talk your ear off, can't she?"

Her mother, Taylor knew, was speaking from personal experience. Emma had once dragged her into a half-hour explanation on why one brand was inherently superior to another on the basis that its manufacturer used materials from national sources, rather than lower-quality imports.

Needless to say, she had forbid Taylor from ever leaving Emma alone with her ever again.

"Yeah, but we love her anyway," said Taylor with a grin.

Her mother gave another laugh, and smiled at her. "There's no doubting that."

Taylor noticed a bundle of red cloth in her mother's hands. "What's that?"

"Oh, I heard it was supposed to get a little chilly tonight, so I grabbed this." She held the cloth up.

It was a long, knitted scarf. Annette reached over Taylor's head and wrapped the scarf around her neck a couple times, and tossed the ends over her shoulder.

Done, she gently took Taylor's shoulders and turned her to around, to face the hall closet and the mirror it supported.

"There, you look nice," said Annette, beaming at her daughter's reflection. Taylor had to agree, the red did look good with the white blouse and black jacket.

Seeing them together in reflection brought Taylor's attention to their similarities - and differences.

Annette Rose Hebert was, much like her husband and daughter, tall. But where the rest of the family was gangly and uncoordinated, Annette was graceful, and slender in the way that actresses and models aspire.

If that was what she had to look forward to, Taylor was happy to wait a few years in adolescent awkwardness.

Taylor turned, and gave her mom a quick hug. "Thanks."


"If we're all ready to go ladies, let's get a move on." Danny pulled open the front door, and held it open in a display of gallantry for the Hebert ladies, who giggled at his antics.

Taylor watched as her mother stopped next to the passenger side, idly running her fingers along the mismatched fender and door, looking off into the middle distance and obviously lost in thought.

"Mom?" Taylor knew where her mother's thoughts were, but was hesitant to bring it up.

Annette continued to stare at the car. "Hm?"

"You okay?" asked Taylor, biting her lip.

"Yeah… yeah. I'm fine honey." Annette smiled softly at her daughter.

The moment broken, they piled in and Danny pulled the sedan out into the street, headed towards the Docks.

As they drove, Taylor observed the city around her.

Her home lay in one of the slightly better portions of town, near the Docks. But 'slightly better' still meant 'rough', compared to any other city it seemed.

Ever since the advent of the Boat Graveyard and the collapse of the local shipping industry, the Brockton Bay economy had gone on a death spiral, bringing the cities inhabitants with it.

Her father, as HR for the Dockworkers Union, had fought to revitalize the Docks, but had been shot down multiple times.

If it weren't for the support of her mother, thought Taylor, he would like as not give up on his fight. Even now, he tended to come home from a long day of struggles with a defeated air, as he had once again been forced to tell his people that no, there weren't any jobs.

Taylor dropped the depressing line of thought, and idly wondered at what her parents had planned for the night. Maybe they had enough to eat out for once?

Her thoughts were violently interrupted by an eruption of curses from her father, followed by the car swerving across the incoming lane and whipping Taylor into the door, stunning her.

With a tremendous crash and the sickening impact of collision, they stopped.

"Mom… Dad?" Taylor's vision swirled and rocked, as reality stuttered around her. She fumbled at her seatbelt, trying to unlatch the infernal strap that held her in place.

She was interrupted in her valiant struggle by hands gently taking her own, and she looked up to see her mother, looking shaken but unharmed.

"You okay little owl?" she asked, as she unbuckled the seatbelt.

"Mmfine…" Taylor slurred in response, though she desperately wanted to say otherwise, and simply curl up against her mother's comforting presence.

She heard her father speaking. "Annette, we have to get out of here before things get worse."

"I think Taylor's concussed, help me move her!" Taylor felt arms encircle her chest, and she was heaved to her feet.

"M'okay." Taylor protested her treatment, but shuffled along obligingly.

They had only managed to travel a short distance, before they were once again sent reeling by a blast of concussive force. Unsupported, Taylor flopped to the ground in an undignified pile.

Blearily, she lifted her head and looked around to see figures a distance away, engaged in dance-like maneuvers and acrobatic displays. One of them had even turned into a wolf!

Wait, what?

Taylor shook herself, and sat up. She was still slightly dizzy, but had managed to shake off most of the effects of the crash.

With clear eyes - miraculously, her glasses had stayed on - she observed the carnage around her.

Multiple stalled cars, many with their doors hanging wide open in their hasty abandonment. There were cracks and craters in the asphalt, and more than one lightpole had fallen. Her family's own car was up on the opposing sidewalk, having slammed into a row of newsboxes.

There was a five-foot column of metal embedded in the street not far from her current position. Tracing the path of the car, her father must have veered to avoid it, and hit the newsboxes instead.

Taylor glanced around, and saw Danny laying prone on the sidewalk a couple feet away. She crawled over to him.

"Dad?" She shook him roughly, as he groaned and blinked at his daughter.

"Taylor?"

"Dad, what happened? Where's Mom?"

Danny blinked a few more times. "Annette…"

Taylor looked around wildly, searching for her mother. A frantic moment later, she spotted her further down the street, nearer to the cape battle raging nearby.

"Mom!"

Taylor's mother was sitting up in the middle of the street, watching the cape fight in a dazed sort of confusion, bleeding from the head and obviously not all there.

Less than half a block away from her, members of the Protectorate were battling with what looked to Taylor to be both the Merchants and Empire Eighty-Eight. Though the two were often as not taking potshots at each other, making it a three-way battle.

Taylor propped her father against a the face of a nearby shop, and hurried over to her mother. As she limped towards the battle, she saw Armsmaster and Miss Militia as they worked together to fend off Hookwolf and Kaiser as Skidmark, Mush, and Squealer harassed them all from a distance.

Armsmaster deflected a lance of steel from Kaiser, and severed the shaft before launching it towards Skidmark at impressive speeds. Skidmark cursed fouly, and lay down a shimmering field.

The lance hit the field, and immediately reversed, flinging itself at speed back towards Armsmaster, who nimbly dodged out of the way.

Allowing the impromptu projectile to continue its deadly course, straight for Taylor.

Time slowed down, and she could only watch in horror as the spear inevitably drew closer. She couldn't react, couldn't even blink as she watched her doom approach.

And suddenly, she couldn't see anything but a mass of dark curls. There was a blood-curdling shriek of metal on bone as an impact sent her flying, and she landed on the rough asphalt.

Unharmed.

Taylor stared in shock at the scene before her, unbelieving.

Her mother, the rock of their family, the unshakeable source of strength for them, was standing in the middle of the street, swaying slightly on her feet.

And protruding from her chest was a length of steel, dripping with her life's blood.

"Little Owl…" she whispered, before falling to the ground in a lifeless heap.

Taylor couldn't speak, couldn't breathe.

Her mother was dead, taking a blow meant for her, and it was all her fault.

-

DESTINATION

AGREEMENT

-

Taylor came to, and couldn't remember what she saw. She knew it was important, but for the life of her, she couldn't pull the memory to the surface. Like sand, it slipped through her fingers and dissipated.

What Taylor did remember, however, was what happened immediately before.

Her mother, and the lance.

A sob broke free, and Taylor had to struggle to keep from breaking down then and there.

The assembled capes had been knocked through a loop as well, and had regrouped into their collective factions. The fight restarted almost as if it hadn't been uninterrupted.

Taylor watched as the Heroes and Villains fought on, ignorant of the destruction they had caused, the complete annihilation of a family's heart.

It made her angry.

Something within suddenly broke, and all Taylor could do was shake in barely restrained fury, rage and despair warring within.

She saw Miss Militia let loose with a barrage of automatic fire into the metallic body of Hookwolf, driving the caniform back with sustained fire. The rifle was quickly replaced with a cavalry saber as a thrust of steel centered in on her, and she parried the strike.

//Begin Synchronization

//Determining Creation Ideology

//Analyzing Composite Materials...Read Error

//Base Core not Located

//End Synchronization​

Taylor gasped as something shifted in her mind, and a sharp sting in her eyes made itself known. She blinked away tears, and focused on the closest fight, unnaturally drawn to the conflict.

She watched Armsmaster skillfully parry and deflect the spikes and lances of metal called forth by Kaiser with his Halberd, a weapon of unparalleled versatility and strength.

//Begin Synchronization

//Analyzing Composite Materials

//Determining Creation Ideology

//Understanding Forging Procedure

//Reading Accumulated History

//Sympathizing with Experience

//Projection Stored

//All Processes Complete​

The words came to her like old friends, as if she had always known them.

"Trace On."

//Begin Projection

//Loading Projection 'Halberd'

//Sympathizing with Experience

//All Processes Complete​

Suddenly within her hands was a copy of Armsmaster's Halberd. It was perfect, down to every imperfection in the steel.

But it was hollow, an empty shell.

It would have to do.

As she handled the weapon, she felt the crystalline matrix of the steel, felt the rigid, ordered structure that gave it strength. She forced this rigidity onto her mind, and felt her fury and anguish dim.

Slowly, Taylor untied her mother's scarf. It was long, and had survived the crash and her falls with ease. She took it and wrapped it around her head carefully, concealing her face except for her eyes and pulled her hood up over her hair, obscuring it from view.

She was calm.

She was Steel.

She felt the accumulated weight of years within the weapon, knew just how to hold it, the feeling of swinging it in hundreds of hours of combat and practice.

With the force of Steel within her, Taylor Hebert charged into the melee.

She was going to end this, here and now.

Next Chapter​

---

Basically, Taylor triggers with what is essentially Shirou's Reality Marble. The ability to read, memorize, store and project weapons in an instant. I tossed in a dash of Metalcrafting from Codex Alera for the Mind of Steel, but otherwise it's mostly the same. Annette obviously never died in the car crash, and Taylor never left for summer camp. Emma still had her experience, but instead of clinging to Sophia's ideology, she clung to Taylor instead.

*EDIT*


Taylor now has a scarf.

 

[Vanargandr]

Finding it difficult to believe Zion and Eden managed to nom an Earth NASU

What with Alaya being capable of infinitely spam Counter Guardians

Ie a battle of atrition until Alaya bumps into a CG with some sort of concept bullshit

 

[Zege]

Finding it difficult to believe Zion and Eden managed to nom an Earth NASU

What with Alaya being capable of infinitely spam Counter Guardians

Ie a battle of atrition until Alaya bumps into a CG with some sort of concept bullshit

Click to shrink...

Well, it's not literally Shirou's RM. It's just a Shard that happens to work exactly like it. Taylor ping'd off of Miss Militia for the weapon creation and perfect recall, and Hookwolf/Kaiser for the Steel.

It's F/SN inspired, not a cross.

 

[Nekraa]

Well his dad the Allfather could Shoot Swords so assuming Kaiser's a bud (of course it is) there might be some possibilities

I mean Hookwolf shoots spikes out of his wolf later in canon so......

but mostly he uses it to Impale/Fields of Spears to control the field/harass while Frenja/Menja/Hookwolf do the heavy hitting

Click to shrink...

His Shard is closer to Theo's. he can generate metal blades anywhere on the terrain around him, larger ones take more time but he can do it fast enough to trap a stunned half Dragon'd out Lung.

Click to shrink...

He can also generate blades on peoples skin (not directly inwards though).

 

[OverReactionGuy]

Unbeta'd, fresh off the presses, and probably in need of serious work, but I present to you...

Embrace of Steel
A Fate/Stay Night inspired Worm AU

---

Chapter One

Taylor Hebert was caught, with no retreat in sight. She had underestimated the opposing forces motivation, and was now mired in an untenable situation.

Emma had called, and was now chattering on to Taylor about fashion.

"Taylor, you ready?" called the voice of a savior, echoing up the stairwell of the Hebert house.

Taylor stuck her head out of her room and called back, "Just a minute Mom!", then popped back into her room to end her friend's seemingly endless parade of opinions.

"Yeah, we're all heading out," Taylor said, cell phone pressed to her ear. "Okay. See you Monday?"

Hearing an affirmative, she hung up and pocketed her phone with a sigh of relief. Emma was her best friend - close as sisters, it felt at times - but could be a real chatterbox when she got going.

Taylor had been searching her closet for a particular shirt when her phone had rung, and now couldn't recall which one it had been. She huffed in annoyance and turned away from the closet, giving it up as a lost cause.

In doing so, she caught her reflection in the mirror. The silvered glass showed a girl of fifteen, slender and willowy, with impressive height for her age. She frowned at her lack of curves, and the too-wide mouth that emphasized her dour expression didn't help improve her opinion.

She couldn't help but compare herself to her friend, with her impressive proportions and attractive face. The only thing Taylor really felt she could match her in was her hair. Dark brown, curly tresses as compared to the fiery red locks Emma had, but no less well taken care of.

Taylor shook off her musings on her friend and finished getting ready for the evening. A simple red blouse over jeans and well-worn sneakers, with a light jacket for night-time breeze. It would have to do.

It was a Saturday, and and for the Hebert family, that meant the Boardwalk. The three of them would pile into the beat up sedan and go for a drive on a family outing. Visiting the local shops - too pricey for them to shop in, but fun to browse - and on occasion catching a movie.

It was important to spend time together, as her father said. You never know when that time will be taken from you.

Taylor made her way downstairs, and met her parents in the living room. The pair stood at the front door, waiting on Taylor to leave, and smiled at her as she came into view.

"All ready?" asked her father, with a small smile.

Danny Hebert was a man that could only be described as 'gawky'. Tall, reed thin, and balding, he was not what one would call attractive. His eyes were large, and the glasses he wore enlarged them even further, giving him a slightly surprised look at all times.

Taylor smiled back. "Yeah, got distracted when Emma called, but I managed to get away unscathed."

Taylor's mother, Annette, laughed at that. "That girl can certainly talk your ear off, can't she?"

Her mother, Taylor knew, was speaking from personal experience. Emma had once dragged her into a half-hour explanation on why one brand was inherently superior to another on the basis that its manufacturer used materials from national sources, rather than lower-quality imports.

Needless to say, she had forbid Taylor from even leaving Emma alone with her ever again.

"Yeah, but we love her anyway," said Taylor, as she observed her mother with the eye of a daughter who aspires to be like her parent.

Annette Rose Hebert was, much like her husband and daughter, tall. But where the rest of the family was gangly and uncoordinated, Annette was graceful, and slender in the way that actresses and models aspire.

If that was what she had to look forward to, Taylor was happy to wait a few years in adolescent awkwardness.

"If we're all ready to go ladies, let's get a move on." Danny pulled open the front door, and held it open in a display of gallantry for the Hebert ladies, who giggled at his antics.

Taylor watched as her mother stopped next to the passenger side, idly running her fingers along the mismatched fender and door, looking off into the middle distance and obviously lost in thought.

"Mom?" Taylor knew where her mother's thoughts were, but was hesitant to bring it up.

Annette continued to stare at the car. "Hm?"

"You okay?" asked Taylor, biting her lip.

"Yeah… yeah. I'm fine honey." Annette smiled softly at her daughter.

The moment broken, they piled in and Danny pulled the sedan out into the street, headed towards the Docks.

As they drove, Taylor observed the city around her.

Her home lay in one of the slightly better portions of town, near the Docks. But 'slightly better' still meant 'rough', compared to any other city it seemed.

Ever since the advent of the Boat Graveyard and the collapse of the local shipping industry, the Brockton Bay economy had gone on a death spiral, bringing the cities inhabitants with it.

Her father, as HR for the Dockworkers Union, had fought to revitalize the Docks, but had been shot down multiple times.

If it weren't for the support of her mother, thought Taylor, he would like as not give up on his fight. Even now, he tended to come home from a long day of struggles with a defeated air, as he had once again been forced to tell his people that no, there weren't any jobs.

Taylor dropped the depressing line of thought, and idly wondered at what her parents had planned for the night. Maybe they had enough to eat out for once?

Her thoughts were violently interrupted by an eruption of curses from her father, followed by the car swerving across the incoming lane and whipping Taylor into the door, stunning her.

With a tremendous crash and the sickening impact of collision, they stopped.

"Mom… Dad?" Taylor's vision swirled and rocked, as reality stuttered around her. She fumbled at her seatbelt, trying to unlatch the infernal strap that held her in place.

She was interrupted in her valiant struggle by hands gently taking her own, and she looked up to see her mother, looking shaken but unharmed.

"You okay little owl?" she asked, as she unbuckled the seatbelt.

"Mmfine…" Taylor slurred in response, though she desperately wanted to say otherwise, and simply curl up against her mother's comforting presence.

She heard her father speaking. "Annette, we have to get out of here before things get worse."

"I think Taylor's concussed, help me move her!" Taylor felt arms encircle her chest, and she was heaved to her feet.

"M'okay." Taylor protested her treatment, but shuffled along obligingly.

They had only managed to travel a short distance, before they were once again sent reeling by a blast of concussive force. Unsupported, Taylor flopped to the ground in an undignified pile.

Blearily, she lifted her head and looked around to see figures a distance away, engaged in dance-like maneuvers and acrobatic displays. One of them had even turned into a wolf!

Wait, what?

Taylor shook herself, and sat up. She was still slightly dizzy, but had managed to shake off most of the effects of the crash.

With clear eyes - miraculously, her glasses had stayed on - she observed the carnage around her.

Multiple stalled cars, many with their doors hanging wide open in their hasty abandonment. There were cracks and craters in the asphalt, and more than one lightpole had fallen. Her family's own car was up on the opposing sidewalk, having slammed into a row of newsboxes.

There was a five-foot column of metal embedded in the street not far from her current position. Tracing the path of the car, her father must have veered to avoid it, and hit the newsboxes instead.

Taylor glanced around, and saw Danny laying prone on the sidewalk a couple feet away. She crawled over to him.

"Dad?" She shook him roughly, as he groaned and blinked at his daughter.

"Taylor?"

"Dad, what happened? Where's Mom?"

Danny blinked a few more times. "Annette…"

Taylor looked around wildly, searching for her mother. A frantic moment later, she spotted her further down the street, nearer to the cape battle raging nearby.

"Mom!"

Taylor's mother was sitting up in the middle of the street, watching the cape fight in a dazed sort of confusion, bleeding from the head and obviously not all there.

Less than half a block away from her, members of the Protectorate were battling with what looked to Taylor to be both the Merchants and Empire Eighty-Eight. Though the two were often as not taking potshots at each other, making it a three-way battle.

Taylor propped her father against a the face of a nearby shop, and hurried over to her mother. As she limped towards the battle, she saw Armsmaster and Miss Militia as they worked together to fend off Hookwolf and Kaiser as Skidmark, Mush, and Squealer harassed them all from a distance.

Armsmaster deflected a lance of steel from Kaiser, and severed the shaft before launching it towards Skidmark at impressive speeds. Skidmark cursed fouly, and lay down a shimmering field.

The lance hit the field, and immediately reversed, flinging itself at speed back towards Armsmaster, who nimbly dodged out of the way.

Allowing the impromptu projectile to continue its deadly course, straight for Taylor.

Time slowed down, and she could only watch in horror as the spear inevitably drew closer. She couldn't react, couldn't even blink as she watched her doom approach.

And suddenly, she couldn't see anything but a mass of dark curls. There was a blood-curdling shriek of metal on bone as an impact sent her flying, and she landed on the rough asphalt.

Unharmed.

Taylor stared in shock at the scene before her, unbelieving.

Her mother, the rock of their family, the unshakeable source of strength for them, was standing in the middle of the street, swaying slightly on her feet.

And protruding from her chest was a length of steel, dripping with her life's blood.

"Little Owl…" she whispered, before falling to the ground in a lifeless heap.

Taylor couldn't speak, couldn't breathe.

Her mother was dead, taking a blow meant for her, and it was all her fault.

-

DESTINATION

AGREEMENT

-

Taylor came to, and couldn't remember what she saw. She knew it was important, but for the life of her, she couldn't pull the memory to the surface. Like sand, it slipped through her fingers and dissipated.

What Taylor did remember, however, was what happened immediately before.

Her mother, and the lance.

A sob broke free, and Taylor had to struggle to keep from breaking down then and there.

The assembled capes had been knocked through a loop as well, and had regrouped into their collective factions. The fight restarted almost as if it hadn't been uninterrupted.

Taylor watched as the Heroes and Villains fought on, ignorant of the destruction they had caused, the complete annihilation of a family's heart.

It made her angry.

Something within suddenly broke, and all Taylor could do was shake in barely restrained fury, rage and despair warring within.

She saw Miss Militia let loose with a barrage of automatic fire into the metallic body of Hookwolf, driving the caniform back with sustained fire. The rifle was quickly replaced with a cavalry saber as a thrust of steel centered in on her, and she parried the strike.

//Begin Synchronization

//Determining Creation Ideology

//Analyzing Composite Materials...Read Error

//Base Core not Located

//End Synchronization

Taylor gasped as something shifted in her mind, and a sharp sting in her eyes made itself known. She blinked away tears, and focused on the closest fight, unnaturally drawn to the conflict.

She watched Armsmaster skillfully parry and deflect the spikes and lances of metal called forth by Kaiser with his Halberd, a weapon of unparalleled versatility and strength.

//Begin Synchronization

//Analyzing Composite Materials

//Determining Creation Ideology

//Understanding Forging Procedure

//Reading Accumulated History

//Sympathizing with Experience

//Projection Stored

//All Processes Complete

The words came to her like old friends, as if she had always known them.

"Trace On."

//Begin Projection

//Loading Projection 'Halberd'

//Sympathizing with Experience

//All Processes Complete

Suddenly within her hands was a copy of Armsmaster's Halberd. It was perfect, down to every imperfection in the steel.

But it was hollow, an empty shell.

It would have to do.

As she handled the weapon, she felt the crystalline matrix of the steel, felt the rigid, ordered structure that gave it strength. She forced this rigidity onto her mind, and felt her fury and anguish dim.

She was calm.

She was Steel.

She felt the accumulated weight of years within the weapon, knew just how to hold it, the feeling of swinging it in hundreds of hours of combat and practice.

With the force of Steel within her, Taylor Hebert charged into the melee.

She was going to end this, here and now.

---

Basically, Taylor triggers with what is essentially Shirou's Reality Marble. The ability to read, memorize, store and project weapons in an instant. I tossed in a dash of Metalcrafting from Codex Alera for the Mind of Steel, but otherwise it's mostly the same. Annette obviously never died in the car crash, and Taylor never left for summer camp. Emma still had her experience, but instead of clinging to Sophia's ideology, she clung to Taylor instead.

Click to shrink...

So your saying that Taylor is trying to commit suicide by cape. Her body literally can not handle Shirou's fighting style. Or the fighting style of the wielder of the weapon which she would be copying. And you just had her get her powers and jump into a cape brawl. While her mother died in front of her. Shirou only handled his bodies strain through years of training.

Basically you are having Taylor jump in to the equivalent of a servant battle to her with no training or experience in order to get her killed when she dies.

Unlike Shirou who does not die when killed. Unless you get a bad ending.

Though, honestly. If I was in Taylor position I would have wanted revenge too and probably would have jumped in the brawl myself.


Otherwise interesting snippet.

 

[Zege]

So your saying that Taylor is trying to commit suicide by cape. Her body literally can not handle Shirou's fighting style. Or the fighting style of the wielder of the weapon which she would be copying. And you just had her get her powers and jump into a cape brawl. While her mother died in front of her. Shirou only handled his bodies strain through years of training.

Basically you are having Taylor jump in to the equivalent of a servant battle to her with no training or experience in order to get her killed when she dies.

Unlike Shirou who does not die when killed. Unless you get a bad ending.

Though, honestly. If I was in Taylor position I would have wanted revenge too and probably would have jumped in the brawl myself.


Otherwise interesting snippet.

Click to shrink...

Taylor is going to suffer the effects of using a fighting style she is unsuited for, yes. There's other factors in play I have yet to reveal this chapter though, that will help Taylor survive the conflict.

 

[OverReactionGuy]

Taylor is going to suffer the effects of using a fighting style she is unsuited for, yes. There's other factors in play I have yet to reveal this chapter though, that will help Taylor survive the conflict.

Click to shrink...

Taylor's body is not made of blades right? It was horrifying when Shirou did that.

 

[doomlord9]

Taylor's body is not made of blades right? It was horrifying when Shirou did that.

Click to shrink...

Well she has to have some method of making everyone who looks at her horribly uncomfortable. It's just not good characterization of Taylor without her being able to make everyone around her question if she's really a good guy or not just by being herself.