The Body Shop [Worm]

[Myainsel]

In the words of Diogenes, 'Behold, an Omake!' Context and a quick note at the end, so as not to spoil.

---

Philtres, Phatties, and Phylacteries


Amy groaned as she heard that familiar sound. A knock at the door. "Taylor?" she called. "Did someone call for an emergency Saturday appointment? I told you not before noon."

"It's Sunday," came the bemused reply, "One-forty on Sunday. And no, this one must be a walk-in." She strode over to the monitor connected to the entryway camera. "You expecting a young blonde? Ringlets and an Alice dress?"

Amy stood up and followed Taylor to the other side of the room. She leaned over her partner's shoulder. "Nope. Wouldn't know her from Eve. Who's doing the talking?"

Taylor huffed out an amused snort. "A girl that adorable? Your cynicism would crush her like a bug. Let me lead. Cover me?"

Amy reached her hand over to a thick vine running up the wall nearby. She closed her eyes, took a slow breath, and opened them again. "Okay," she nodded. "I've got the front door security primed."

Taylor thumbed open a small vial on her belt and slugged its contents. "The front door security that I am now immune to for the next 30 minutes. Okay, let's go."

Taylor pulled her mask up, walked over to the door, and opened it wide. "Good afternoon. If you are looking for healing, you will need to book through the proper channels. We do not handle emergency cases. With that in mind, can I help you?"

"That depends," came the high pitched reply from the child at the top of the steps. "You see, I saw several of your advertisements, and I was thinking that I had something to offer. And in return, you can help me navigate the bureaucracy of the PRT to collect several bounties as an Independent."

Taylor's eyebrows rose at that. "Bounties? Color me impressed. As a professional courtesy I'll not ask on whom just yet." Quietly thanking her father for every take-your-daughter-to-work day spent listening to the roughest union negotiators in three states, she settled into a more businesslike mein. "That said, what exactly do you feel you have to offer us?"

It was like a spark lit up in their guest's eyes. "Oh boy. Let's see. Uncle Jack said to start with my second best. That would have to be my augmentations. Your partner can diagnose me with a touch right? Well, come here." And so saying she extended her hand. "I can't wait to see what you think."

Taylor, mindful of their security, looked over to Amy. Amy shrugged with a casual, "Sure, why not."

Taylor turned back to their guest. "Alright then," she said as she turned aside. "Come on inside and let's see what you've got. Head on over to our exam table, and Amy can check you out." She moved casually to the opposite side of the lab and leaned against the counter where several flasks were full of several different colors of liquids.

Amy for her part took her hand from the wall and grabbed her exam robe. It was treated to be both stain- and fire-resistant, and most importantly, had a flask left in the pocket, which Amy had a hand on before she was even aware. However, a look at the cherubic face bouncing her feet (much too short to even reach the stool she climbed up to the table with while seated atop it) had her reconsider. She didn't need it anymore. She promised Taylor. And Vicky.

"Okay then," she said, "do I have permission to diagnose you? I will not effect any healing at this time."

"You do," the girl replied. "I'm glad you asked."

"Alright then. Here goes nothing." And with that, Amy grasped the proffered hand. Her eyebrows quickly rose, then fell, then rose again. For a solid five minutes the only sounds in the room were variations on "Hm," "Interesting," and "Oh! That's what that does." Over those same minutes whatever lingering fatigue she was showing vanished, replaced by an eager curiosity. Finally Taylor cleared her throat, and Amy suddenly recalled that her partner and their guest were not privy to her train of thought. "Oh, right. So, I see about half of your bones are no longer organic at all, and numerous inorganic chambers concealed in your forearms and feet. I assume they are some kind of personal defense. The fibers reinforcing your skin feel like carbon weaves, and your liver and kidneys are incredibly powerful and efficient. I assume some kind of toxin filtration? There's also what feels like a sieve in your trachea, for the same purpose? If this is your work it's inspired. Your immune system is top of the line. Probably thanks to whatever those devices on your lymph nodes are. And your nerves are..oh, they are under your conscious control? That's not something I could replicate, I don't think. Who helped you install the cerebrospinal mesh and the ocular implants?"

Grinning, the blonde girl replied, "No one. I did them myself. One of the applications of conscious control of the nervous system is that I don't have to feel pain."

Taylor blinked in shock, but Amy didn't seem phased in the least. "That explains the eyes," she allowed, "If you do them one at a time. But not how you can operate on your own brain, spine, and nerves."

"Oh, that's thanks to some of my pets. Would you like to meet one?"

No sooner did the words leave her mouth than there came another knock at the front door, but this one a distinctly light tap-tap-tap. Taylor raised an eyebrow at the pair of nerdy tinkers. Amy just stared back at her, until with a roll of her eyes Taylor declared, "Why sure, I'll get the door. That's fine." She opened it to reveal what was at first glance, an empty porch. But her eyes were drawn downward by a lazy motion. At her feet stood a small robot, about a foot high and built like a bug, standing relatively high on long, dexterous legs, one of which was waving back and forth slowly. A small webcam on its body was pointed up towards Taylor's face. However, the bot was not entirely artificial. At least a third of the visible surface was covered by a golden brown fur, and one limb was governed in green reptilian scales. Taylor turned back to the smiling blonde on the table. "This would be one of your friends, then?"

"Yep!" came the cheery reply. "They are designed to help with my surgeries. They have a rudimentary understanding of medicine and can perform sutures entirely on their own. However, I can also connect one to my awareness and puppet its movements directly. That's how I did the self-surgeries on places I couldn't reach or on my spine and brain. In case it wasn't obvious by now, I am a tinker specialized in biology and augmentation."

Something tickled Taylor's memory at this, but she couldn't place the feeling. Still, she spoke up, "I assume that's how you can come before us unmasked? A surgeon as accomplished as you are could probably wear a different face for every meal, if she wanted. Speaking of identity, it occurs to me we never asked your name."

Their guest smacked herself in the forehead. "Ugh. I can't believe I didn't think about that. I blame Uncle Jack, he never cared so much for concealing-for manners. Right. Introductions. You can call me Deadlift for now. I'm not super attached to the name, but it fits."

"Well," Taylor opined, "if you intend to collect a few bounties, you'll need to nail that down before going in to fill out the paperwork. While we've never collected bounties ourselves, we definitely have a lot of experience navigating the PRT's bureaucracy. All of our pharmaceuticals have to go through regulatory testing before they'll approve it for sale or use. The forms are very standardized, and the first step is to register as an Independent Heroic Entity. If you plan to submit bounties regularly, you will probably need to sit through some certifications. Use of force, vigilante regulations, and so on."

"Actually, I was hoping to be recognized more like you two are. As a...contractor. The bounties are probably more like a one-time thing." Saying this had Deadlift looking around nervously, in a way Taylor recognized immediately.

"That's fine, no one expects you to make a living on bounties. If it's not too much to ask, are your bounties secured? With your talents I'm sure they can be sedated safely, but if you'd like some support? No strings attached," Taylor offered.

"Oh no, they don't need sedation. They're quite dead. I would know." The nonchalance behind these words startled Taylor and Amy both, and suddenly Deadlift was back to a businesslike manner. "Speaking of which, I think it's time for me to show you the rest of what I'm bringing to the table here. You've seen evidence of my skills, but as of a few weeks ago my powers…expanded. Yes, I know they don't normally do that and believe me, I have done everything short of vivisecting my brain to figure out why. However, my expanded powers are how I managed to move six corpses with me across two states to get here."

"Six?!" interrupted Amy, "Where did you find eight capes will kill orders that you managed to over…come…" she trailed off uncertainly, as a shiver worked its way down her spine.

"Well that was easy. They were all right there, busy torturing Mouse Protector. That was when I realized…I realized I could do so much better. I had everything I needed right there. I activated my aerosolized paralytic, that got everyone except Uncle Ned, Mannequin, and Auntie Sibby. My spider friends had fun with Mannequin, and Auntie Sibby was willing to help me, she kept Uncle Ned busy until Mr. Spooky showed me how to make sure he stayed put so I could channel the ritual to rip his soul out in one piece. But I think Auntie Sibby was affected too, she disappeared and didn't come back…I miss her a lot, but I think she knew she was helping me, even at the end. When I have a free month to take a closer look at the gem that Uncle Ned's soul is in, I hope I can find hers as well. But the diagnostic ritual says there's only two males in there, so I'm not hopeful. But after that, it was a simple matter to kill Shatterbird, Hatchet Face, and Cherish. It hurt to kill Uncle Jack, but he wouldn't let me go when I asked, so it had to be done. Mannequin was leaking by this point, so I went ahead and made sure he finished before I began to Raise everyone. It was my first time Raising humans, so I was eager to get it right. But I did it! They were perfectly raised as mindless undead. They do exactly what I tell them, including carrying Mouse Protector here so Panacea could help. And so I didn't have to move them across two states to find you, they walked themselves."

Taylor took advantage of a pause for breath to interject, "Wait, wait. You mean to tell me that you have six of the Slaughterhouse Nine dead, and are looking to collect the bounties. Except they're still walking and talking, and following your orders?"

"No, silly. They can't talk. I can't reliably create intelligent undead. I could certainly install some neural overrides so that I could puppet their bodies and just…not bother with the mouth, but that's such a weird sensation it's like your tongue is in three places at once. Ugh. No thank you. They don't need to talk anyway."

Amy, meanwhile, had succumbed during Deadlift's monologue and opened the flask she found earlier. The soda had gone flat, but the vodka was still perfectly capable of getting her through the rest of this conversation. "So, my question is how did you get the drop on them? Are you one of Mouse Protector's protégés they didn't notice?"

Deadlift paused, turning to Amy. "You can use your power as a lie detector, right? Take my hand." Amy did so gingerly, like it was a snake going to bite her. Once she touched Deadlift's hand, however, she relaxed, realizing the absolute power Deadlift was trusting her with. The blonde child continued, "I'll even make you more comfortable, I'll disable my weapons. Here's the sub-micronic laser built into my left index finger. I just disengaged the psychotropic bacterium dart launchers in my feet, and the cold fusion ultrasonic neuro-stunner in my hairpin. For your reference, the sky is blue. The sky is green. Your name is Amy. My name is Riley. And I used to be Bonesaw. Uncle…no. Jack Slash was responsible for me having powers. And until three weeks ago I didn't realize what I was missing. But then I started to hear a voice. It called itself a Lich. I call him Mr. Spooky. I think the gold pendant I melted down to use as a sterile casing for one of my modifications was actually his soul jar. He's being very tightlipped on the details, but I can usually tell because he gets quiet when I'm right. Anyway, he's been teaching me necromancy, and the results speak for themselves." At this, she darted her eyes to the clock on the wall. "And unless I am a much worse necromancer than I thought I was, my bounties should be looking for me right about now." Three firm knocks came from the front door. "If you just let them in, they will be right as rain once I can see them, and command them that I'm okay."

Taylor stepped over to the entrance and paused, unlatching the door and throwing it open in the same motion that she dove away behind the swinging metal. Amy and Riley were greeted with the sight of exactly what Riley promised. A girl in a charred red dress, an older woman with dark brown skin and hair pulled back into a severe bun, a nondescript man with a graying goatee and behind them a giant of a man holding a brutal looking cleaver and another form draped over one massive shoulder. Leaning over all of them was a nine-foot, white, puppet-like figure, unmistakably belonging to Mannequin. The others, Amy inferred, would be Burnscar, Shatterbird, Jack Slash and Hatchet Face. And they looked very, very dead. Glazed eyes, pallid skin, and unhealed but bloodless scrapes crossed all their features.

Bonesaw…Deadlift...Riley? Whoever, spoke two words in a language neither Taylor or Amy recognized. The five outside the door did not move. Or breathe. Or react to those two words in any way at all. Riley continued in English. "Okay, you will return to the warehouse and wait for me out of sight. Hatchet, please bring Mouse Protector over here to the table first, so we can fix her up." She then turned to Amy, still holding her hand. "We will need to make some space here."

That startled Amy into motion, and she did so. She dropped Riley's hand and watched as the giant did exactly as it was told, gently lowering the figure on its shoulder to the table. A quick hand to the suspiciously bloodless slash on the hulking man's side confirmed to her power what her eyes had already told her. The body was dead as a doornail. The figure on the table, meanwhile, was revealed to be a woman. It would be useless to try to determine her age from her features, because they were currently a horrific mess of scabbed-over cuts and bruises. But her breathing was deep and steady, and another quick touch confirmed that she was in a stable condition.

Amy's curious mania had slowly withered as the conversation went on, and she was rapidly moving on to panic. Thoughts of consorting with a villain warred with the very real confirmation that the Slaughterhouse Nine were dead. Thoughts of collaborating with another biotinker had her drooling in anticipation, but opposed to them was the cold realization that the biotinker in question was a serial murderer, and had cheerfully violated any an all of the few self-imposed rules Amy had left. She couldn't deal with this. Without a word she walked up to the loft, and rummaged around under the couch she awoke from…God, was it only 20 minutes ago? It felt like a lot longer. Pulling out a bottle, she opened it and sniffed just enough to confirm that it was alcohol and not formaldehyde again, then closed her eyes and began to swallow. When the bottle ran dry, she opened her eyes to see Taylor and Riley engaged in quiet conversation.

Pausing halfway down the stairs, she stared at Taylor. Eventually the conversation ground to a halt. Taylor turned and looked up at Amy. "Okay, we've got a plan. We're going to spend the next, hm, hour and a half, probably, applying for bounties under the identity of Deadlift. It's already pretty late on Sunday, and tomorrow is a bank holiday, so there won't be anyone pulling paperwork at the PRT until Tuesday morning. We're gonna spend that time interviewing Riley here." Gazing over to the body of Mouse Protector on the lab table, she continued, "I expect it will be a fairly hands-on interview. We'll bring the other five back here and lock down the base, then we all do some tinkering. Riley has agreed to avoid causing civilian casualties as long as she's working with us. The Bay has, in her own words, 'more than enough criminals moving through morgues for my purposes,' so I think we can table that issue for now. In the meantime, we have some work to do."

Amy made a token effort to help with the paperwork before Taylor waved her away. She gladly took them out, and moved over to the nearest purple plant to help calm her nerves. Before she knew it, she had a wonderful buzz going and Taylor was prodding her to join Riley in the surgery next to the comatose body of Mouse Protector.

Fifteen minutes of work later, and it was done. Riley's insight and preparation turned what should have been six grueling hours of repairing flesh, integrating new biomass, and readjusting genetic markers to avoid rejection into a matter of developing a targeted retrovirus, iterating its design until it matched Mouse Protector's DNA, slipping an IV with nutrients into a vein and delivering the injection to the base of the spine. Sure, it would still take six hours, but that is six hours of periodic monitoring instead of intensive focus and strain. Amy breathed a sigh of relief at the thought. Then she turned to Riley.

"So, while we're waiting, I want to see what else those minions of yours can do."

---

"And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me, And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be, For you will bend and tell me that you love me, And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me!"

The warm, breathy tones of a flute cut off quickly, but the ringing of a legion of water-filled beakers, flasks, and test tubes took longer to fade. The zombified Shatterbird lowered her arms, and continued into a bow, to Riley's giggling delight.

"Okay, something faster this time! One, two, a-one two three four!"

---

~Jack be limbo, Jack be quick, Jack go under limbo stick~

"Aww, looks like Jack's not so limbo after all. Riley, I think they need more specific directions, he's all caught up in Mannequin's limbo chain"

"Ugh, fine. You know it's hard keeping track of all of them in the conga line! I'd like to see either of you multitask this well."
"So let me get this straight. You want me to have Burnscar light that rag on fire? That's it? You know she could do a lot more, Taylor."

"Trust me, that's all I need."

"Okay, fine. But this is hardly impressive. What will you do with a charred rag inside a sealed flask? Because that's all you'll have left once I tell her to stop?"

"Tell her to stop and I'll tell you."

"...You cheat. How is it still burning?!"

"I've designed these flasks to capture esoteric power-based liquids for study. I thought with a little twist, I could capture any parahuman energy effect. Looks like I was right. It's too bad you didn't bring Crawler along, I would have samples for days…"

"Actually, now you mention it…"

---

"Taylor, are you sure no one saw us?"

"Unless they can see into both the infrared and ultraviolet at the same time, we have nothing to worry about. Now, I can see why you couldn't bring him to the shop. He's a lot bigger than I thought."

"...You're sure he's under your control, Riley? He's a little more…intimidating than the others."

"Perfectly sure, see? I can put my head in his mouth like the shark skeleton at the aquarium!"

"Well, you should remove your head until we get those venom samples you wanted. Let's see here…Twelve for me, twelve for you, as we agreed."

"Excellent! I have the perfect idea for Crawler's acid and Burnscar's fires. I can dilute Crawler's acid until it polishes the bone, then I'm sure I can take some of Burnscar's fire to light the skull on fire! It will be like Halloween all year round!"

"Riley, why would you want an everburning skull? How would you even pick it up?"

"Silly, the skull will still be attached to the zombie. It picks itself up!"

"...Of course. Next will be a bat-winged goat-legged ram-horned imp straight out of hell?"

"Hey! No swearing!"

---

"Wheeeee!! Okay, I've been down three times, who wants the next turn?!"

"...Okay, I'm probably high enough by now that this sounds like a reasonable idea. Taylor, hold my blunt. Riley, get those tentacles under me. I'll try the slide. At least it looks like all the spines are retracted, since your outfit isn't torn."

*gasp* "Amy, it's not just, 'the slide,' you gotta say it right!"

"I am not calling it 'The Creepy Crawly Coaster of Crushing Cruelty' no matter how many times you ask."

"Too late! You just did! Now keep your hands and feet inside the tentacles, and try not to squirm too much on the way down! You don't want to fall off early! If you make it to the end I can time the tail to flick and give you some nice air!"

"WaitwaitwaitijustwantedaslideYAAAAAHHHHH!"

…

"Woohoo! That was a rush. Do it again!"

---

"Shhh! We'll be seen!"

"For the last time, no we won't. My potions are flawless. And I need to get this tentacle under control. I really want to see what Amy can do with it and the base security, but if it grabs any higher we're going to have issues."

"Sorry, it's mostly operating on reflex here. Amy, get a hand on it, you should be able to control it easily."

"Okay, wait, where is it? I can't see any of you."

"Over here, follow my voice."

"Okay, okay. There you are, Taylor. That's weird. It's soft but I can't get a read on its biology."

"Amy, Would you say what you are feeling is long and snakelike?"

"No, it's more firm and bouncy, like a…a…"

"Okay, that is your hand. And THIS is the tentacle."

"Ohmgodohmygodhowdidieven…um…hff…hfff..hfff…Okay. Got it. I'll take the tentacle and keep it from…from…Okay. I'll just take the invisible tentacle for now. I've got it perfectly under my control, promise. I can feel its instincts. It looks like Crawler's brain tissue was actually distributed throughout parts of his body for better reflexes. Which explains the unwanted curling. But I've…yeah. I've got it now."

…

"Amy, is it that heavy? It's only been a block and you're already panting a lot."

"Nope! I'm fine! Promise! I'm not embarrassed here! You're embarrassed. I'm just…excited to get back to the lab! And then to never speak of this again. Yeah, that's all."

"...Alright then. I'll add this one to the book."

"Book? What book? You have a book of the embarrassing things that we swore never to speak of again?"

"Perhaps. No one is speaking, after all."

"...If I find that book, I'm burning it."

"Good luck, sweetie."

---

"Hm, well if smoking three full ounces of purple plant while we were out didn't do it, I'm not sure anything will. Sorry Amy, looks like zombies can't get high."

"Damn. That's fine. I was really looking forward to seeing Jack Slash get blitzed out of his gourd. Speaking of, I think Mouse Protector should be up and about soon."

…

"Okay, good news and bad news. Taylor, which do you want first?"

"Good news?"

"The retrovirus worked perfectly, and she's healthy as a horse."

"...then what's the bad news?"

"She's been in the same room as someone smoking purple plant for the better part of three hours. Almost hotboxing. She's actually been awake for fifteen minutes before we even got here. I think she's pretending to be asleep because she opened her eyes and saw Riley's…guests. Hey, if you can hear me, I promise it's okay. I'm Panacea. Let me just clear that THC out of your system and you'll be right as rain."

"...Huh? Wait wait. Don't. Lemme keep the buzz for a bit"

"Are you sure? It's no problem. Really I feel bad, it's my fault you woke up in that kinda state."

"Please. You're cute. A little weed is nothing. Come back after you go on a three day bender trading body shots with Ravager and doing lines off of her ass."

"...Is that how you arrested her in Memphis that one time?"

"Heh. More like the fuzz got us both in the drunk tank and I woke up first. Took off my shoe, threw it through the bars, and suddenly the heroic Mouse Protector has caught the fiendish villain. I miss her, I should really look her up one of these days. I know she busted out, but she's gone to ground for a long while.

"Actually, Ms. Protector…There's something you should know."

"Huh? What is that Riley?"

…

"I can't believe that *hic* bitch. She sold me out? To those monsters? Present still-breathing company excluded. I thought…*hic* I thought we were frenemies! Gimme another bottle. Thank you. Where was I? Right. That bitch. If I ever find her I'll show her. I'll show her good. This time, no more mister nice mouse."

"Don't you mean missus nice mouse?"

"Not when Ravvy and I get going, I don't. She's the one who calls me daddy."

"That's okay Mr. Protector. Even I know that everyone has the right to determine their own gender. You just be true to the real you...Taylor, Amy, why are you turning red?"

---

"Look, sure I'm too high to drive. And too drunk. And Amy's too high. And Taylor's parahuman license is only for emergencies. And Riley's too young. But! You know who isn't?"

"...Who isn't, Mouse?"

"Them!"

"...You want a zombie to drive us for a liquor run?"

"You said you had one playing a glass harp. How much harder could driving be?"

…

"Woooohoooo! This is so much cooler than The Creepy Crawly Coaster of Crushing Cruelty!"

"What?! I can't hear you over the sound of sirens and squealing tires!"

---

"Look, all's well that ends well. We're back at the base, we have some liquor, and no one is in jail. It's fine."

"We totaled Carol's car."

"No, some unknown gangbanger totaled Carol's car. Allegedly."

"It was burned down to the frame."

"Some unknown arsonist?"

"And to boot, that was the last of my invisibility tincture. It takes two months to properly ferment the ingredients. Do you know how far that will set me back?"

"Hey, you have a necromancer now! Fermenting is just stuff living and dying, can't she help you with that?"

"Oooh, I probably could! It shouldn't even be that hard. I've had to STOP most of my bounties from fermenting, encouraging the process is pretty trivial. Just a simple counterspell."

"...Mouse, you can't always rely on other people to fix the problems you cause."

"Why not? It's worked so far. Not to mention, she owes me. For the whole, capturing me with the Nine thing? Sure she is also the reason I'm not dead, but I've got at least a week of guilt tripping here."

"You are processing that whole near-death experience remarkably well, by the way."

"Processing? No. That's why I'm shitfaced. And will be for at least another day."

---

"Okay, Taylor bringing this tentacle back was a great idea. Just by being here I can upgrade the existing ones to match it. The integrated neural tissue really takes a load off of me, connecting to the base like this. I wonder if we could do more with Riley's necromancy."

"Possibly, what did you have in mind?"

"Well, you said you had a soul in a jar, right? Not your weird voice. Crawler's. I've been working on making the house 'smart,' but giving it a mind was always something I couldn't do. What if we replace a biological mind with Riley's power? Her zombies all obey her implicitly, and I KNOW I saw air through Brunscar's eye socket and she wasn't slowing down one bit. An actual brain is definitely not a hard requirement."

"Oooh, yes. We could probably do something. Mr Spooky has some wonderful ideas!"

…

"Is the pentagram really necessary?"

"No, but Mr. Spooky insists that it adds the necessary ambiance. The blood from each of us, on the other hand, is very necessary. It's how we will key the house to know who is friendly."

…

"Okay, Riley. I've grown that exact rune on all four walls, the trigram on the windows, and the seven pointed star on every door. Double check the three you carved into the vine? Because my powers are making sure that the reproduction is flawless."

"...Nope, that looks great! Hold still while I start channeling the mana. You might feel like someone is shining a bright light into your brain, don't worry. That's normal for someone with no magical training being part of a ritual like this."

*rumblerumbleRumbleRumbleRUMBLERUMBLE*

"Oh crap, you didn't tell me this would simulate a damn earthquake! I didn't secure the lab!"

"Taylor stop! Don't leave the circle. It's the boundary between us and the house. Anything on the other side is part of the ritual!"

*smash*

"Dammit! Those were my newest potions! This better work…"

…

"Okay. The mana has stabilized. Based on the thaumic feedback, the ritual was a perfect success. The house's mind should now be obediently loyal to the four of us. Amy, why don't you connect to the plants, get a feel for the new system."

"Okay…okay, this is very strange. I can still see the whole system. But I can't affect it…wait, there it is. It's like I have to re-tune the radio or something. It's…woah. It's definitely got some kind of intelligence now. But it's…tired? It feels tired. And…proud? Like it just wants to pat me on the head and say I've done a good job…you know, exactly the way Carol never did. Still…it definitely feels friendly, and it definitely recognizes the four of us as friendly. God…I wish I could stop thinking about her for once. Just sit here and relax. And look at me. So pathetic I'm making my own house pat me on the head to feel better. What the hell. Another one for the book, why not publish a novel at this rate!"

"Actually Amy, you've had both hands on your own face since you first brought up Carol. I think…I think the house is patting you on its own. And we've talked about this too. Everyone needs physical comfort every once in a while."

"Eep! What?! …okay fine. Maybe I'm not completely pathetic…and I didn't say to stop, either. Thank you, house."

"I think we all need some sleep. Including, from what you implied, the house. We'll try again in the morning, yeah?"

---

"Taylor. Taylor. Taylor. Wake up. I know you're awake, I pumped the adrenaline in two minutes ago."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I want to be. What's up?"

"Did you notice anything weird after we went to sleep last night?"

"Well that would be somewhat difficult, Amy, seeing as I was also asleep. What kind of weird, in particular?"

"Well, it looks like the automated defenses caught something in the backyard."

"Amy, we don't have automated defenses to CATCH anything."

"Well, we do now, just get off your ass and come out back with me. Riley is already taking samples."

…

"So, now that I have a hand on it, it looks like overnight our house has…developed a little. If the four Nazis cocooned in tentacles have anything to say about it. Riley, stop poking the Nazis. I know it's karmic, but these ones are going to jail, not to the lab."

"Amy, when did we give it teeth?"

"We didn't. Also, it's feeling very…happy now. Like a good dog. Isn't that right? Good boy."

*groooowwwlllll*

"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry. Good enby. I didn't realize you had a preference. Thank you for catching the bad guys, good house. Yes you are!"

"Amy. Are you telling me that our house now has a gender identity?"

"Of course. It tends to come with the territory of being sentient…I probably should have mentioned that part, too. Something must have happened with my power and the ritual. Riley, do you have any ideas?"

"Maybe. Taylor, what was that potion that spilled that had you so worried?"

"That's…Oh man. That's really a secret. I'm not sure I can tell you. But I guess it's gone now. So there's probably no harm. I got it through the grapevine, there were several intermediaries involved, but ultimately it came from Accord. If he's on the level, it was supposed to be able to grant parahuman powers. I was trying to modify it based on my Potions, or modify my potions to be closer to it. I had been making good progress too. It cost a pretty penny, I won't be able to afford another one for a good while. I should probably go clean up the lab where it spilled."

"Yeah, about that Taylor. It didn't spill on the lab. It…it kinda spilled onto one of the tentacles."

"Wait…So…does our house have powers now?"

"Oh my god! I've turned parahumans into necromantic entities before, but I've never done it the other way around! This is amazing! Do you think we could do it again? I have so many questions!"

"I think the PRT is going to have some awkward questions for Deadlift on Tuesday…"

"Don't you mean for all of us, Taylor?"

"...Fuck my life."

"Hey! Language!"

~fin~

A/N: In case it wasn't clear, this is not canon to any damn thing. The idea for this came from some people wondering what would happen if Bonesaw ever got actual necromantic powers, from a spirit or lich whispering in her ear. A little undead shoulder devil, that comes with a side of magic. After concluding that she and the shoulder devil would immediately vivisect the shoulder angel, some humorous speculation regarding adventures with the Nine and a very paranoid Jack Slash later, and my mind wondered what would happen when she came across an Amy too blazed to give a fuck along with another power tinker. And from that, we have the mess you just read. Big thanks to First Selector for writing The Body Shop in the first place, and to the lunatics who came up with the idea. You know who you are.