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What's the Frequency, Madison? [Worm, Time Travel]

14 Settling In
The next time I talked to her, Taylor was understandably upset. It was Friday night, after her first day of suspension from school, and I was over at her house, presumably for a sleepover. I hadn't mentioned that Shadow Stalker was the likely culprit, but she had figured it out herself earlier in the day. Everyone involved was lucky that Taylor hadn't flown off to execute some sort of arrest in the middle of lunch. I talked her down from that plan with the fact that I already had the PRT on the case.

"You could have mentioned this earlier," she said testily.

"I know. I'm sorry. I wanted to bring you a solution instead of just a problem to feel bad about, but it's probably going to take a while. I'm surprised your handler didn't mention anything about it." I did feel bad about not telling her once I realized how much that would suck for her to realize it and be unable to do anything directly.

"All he said was that it was being investigated. He didn't give me any details," she grumbled and then sighed deeply. "What are we going to do now?"

"The smart thing would be for us to just let the PRT investigators do their job. Sophia's apparently been pulling this same kind of thing for a while now, but she's been going after the gang kids that no one would believe. There are maybe a dozen cases that share the hallmarks - no fingerprints on the drugs, there being just enough to get them into serious trouble, and how obviously they're planted are the big ones. No one seems to have cared much because they were only gang kids, right?" Taylor grumbled at the thought and I grinned slightly.

"Anyway, she messed up this time. If you were a random student, she might have still gotten away with it, but you're a Ward." It was a little sad, but being a part of the government really did have privileges. If Sophia had tried the same thing on Taylor in the other timeline, once Emma had convinced everyone that she was a junkie loner who was also, somehow, still a part of all of the gangs in town, it would probably have worked. Once more, I felt a pang of guilt for my part in making that circumstance a reality.

Now, the balance of power was reversed, and while this might have been a reasonable ploy on the part of Sophia given the information available to her, there were two major facts that she didn't have. For one, Taylor was now a Ward that the government could freely drug test to ensure that she wasn't actually using whatever the other girl had planted - and had in fact tested clean just the week before. For another, Sophia was currently a violent vigilante with no 'good standing' to speak of. From what I had heard from Agent Lawson, it sounded like Sophia had been a naughty girl lately and was destined for a prison cell if they could catch her in the act.

Taylor's nostrils flared as she took a deep breath. "Alright. Okay. So, how do we help them nail her to the wall?" she asked.

"Tell your handler that you're willing to help in whatever capacity they need you to help and then let them tell you if they need you?" I offered, but her lips set into a hard line. She obviously didn't like the passive approach. "I know it's not the most satisfying thing in the world, but she messed up. The PRT have people watching her now, and she's not smart enough to avoid getting caught with people specifically doing that. Once they have the proof they need, they will spring the trap, and she is going to be in serious trouble."

"What if they let her be a Ward?" Taylor asked, fretting with the hem of her shirt. "She tried to get me arrested."

I nodded. "I asked Agent Lawson about that. It seems like the PRT is really reluctant to throw away a cape if there's any chance they can be reformed, so it could happen." She opened her mouth to say something, but I barreled ahead. "But! But the circumstances are terrible for her. It's perfectly reasonable that we push for her to be separated from Emma, at a minimum, which probably means she can't use Daddy Barnes as her lawyer to fight for better terms. We can say a few words to Carol and she won't take the job, either, and those are the only two ways she's likely to get competent representation. Then we can push on the fact that she tried to frame you for a crime and that we both refuse to work with her. If she ends up a Ward, that will hopefully mean she's in a different city."

I sighed because I didn't like this much, either. "Even if she does end up staying in town, Agent Lawson pointed out how crappy the gig most probationary Wards get is. She'll be stuck at junior status until she turns eighteen, at a minimum, and before then she'll be outranked by everyone else on the team, including us and even anyone that joins after us as long as they aren't probationary Wards. If she decides to start something, we have leverage while she doesn't. We are free to quit whenever we want and I really doubt they're going to want to keep her over either of us. Plus, if she causes too many problems, they can ship her off to prison or worse."

Taylor closed her mouth again as she thought about it. "Worse than prison?" she asked after a minute.

I nodded. "Yeah, there are some really bad duty locations they could ship her off to, like one of the containment zones." Everyone knew about the containment zones. The PRT set them up when something was too horrible to deal with directly and didn't seem to be spreading. A combination of soldiers, PRT agents, and Protectorate capes kept the things contained from breaking out, but it wasn't a posting a regular Ward was likely to get. "Probationary Wards can choose to quit, too, but that just means they end up in jail."

"That does sound bad," she agreed. "I still don't like it, though."

I nodded. "I know. I don't, either. That girl is a psychopath and she's going to end up killing someone if she thinks she can get away with it. It's a miracle that she hasn't already."

"I hope she doesn't," Taylor said, but she seemed to be willing to let the whole matter drop. I realized that I had screwed up by expecting her handler to share everything with her, but Taylor was pretty forgiving. I again tried to compare the version of her that I knew now to the version I had heard so much about in the other timeline. I couldn't see Skitter being willing to just let something like that go. The two versions really weren't the same person, and the guilt I felt about the version in the other timeline was only diminished by the fact that I was doing everything possible to make sure that the current version wouldn't turn out that way.

oOoOoOoOo

The next morning dawned with an unwelcome surprise. Our phones started vibrating and chirping with emergency alert tones and we checked them only to find that there was an Endbringer attack underway in Wisconsin. We groggily went down to Taylor's living room and turned on the TV to find newscasters discussing the event. The Simurgh was attacking Madison.

I fumbled with numb fingers for my message app and sent Agent Lawson a text asking what we should do. I got a call almost as soon as I was done sending it. I put it on speaker.

"I'm here with Taylor," I said instead of 'hello'.

"Good, then it makes this simpler. I'll have a pickup there for you in about fifteen minutes, so be ready to go. The protocol is that everyone comes in and goes on high alert for the duration of the attack. There's almost certainly not going to be anything to actually do when you get here, but it's protocol. I'll have someone pull up some temporary gear for you, too, on the off chance that it's necessary."

"I'll tell dad," Taylor suggested, looking pretty frazzled.

"I need to call mine, too. We'll be ready in fifteen."

A phone call later and Taylor and I threw on clothes before going out to pile into a carpet cleaning van that stopped in front of her house. True to Agent Lawson's predictions, what followed was a day that was both incredibly tense and incredibly boring.

"It's like this every time," Clockblocker grumbled. "They want us here in case some idiots decide to try to take advantage of the confusion, but we're not allowed to do anything because we're just Wards."

"Has anyone gone over the rules of cape etiquette for you two yet?" Triumph asked in an attempt to distract us and break the tension that we were all feeling.

"Just what we could skim off PHO," I said. "Who knows how accurate those are."

The rest of the morning turned into something of a lecture on the 'unwritten rules' of cape life, but from a slightly different perspective than I got from PHO. Most of it was the same, though the PRT was a lot less polite about the civilian identities of criminal capes. I had mostly picked up on that with the whole Sophia situation already, but it was interesting to see that it was an official stance. They didn't go out of their way to find out civilian identities, but they also didn't tolerate capes hiding behind them while committing crimes.

The Simurgh fight wore on and the tension of the entire team grew. Part of me wished I was there helping, but a larger, more sane part of me was glad that I was nowhere near that fight. I texted Agent Lawson about the possibility of volunteering for cleanup, but she gently rebuffed me. She said that I needed more training before there was any hope of deploying to a disaster area like that, and I reluctantly agreed that she was probably right.

Eventually, the Simurgh decided that she had taken enough damage or done enough damage and withdrew. No one cheered, though there was a palpable sense of relief that the fight was over. I was reminded of when Leviathan attacked the Bay in the other timeline and realized with a growing amount of horror that I wouldn't be hiding in a shelter if that happened again. Even if I wanted to, I knew that my cape friends - even if that was just Taylor and Amy and Victoria - wouldn't, and there was no way I would let them fight alone. Not if I could help.

oOoOoOoOo

"You're good at that," Amy half-moaned as she experienced the magic of my hands. "Where did you learn that?"

I grinned and shifted around a bit to go at it from a better angle. The sounds that caused her to generate were really, really interesting. "Oh, around," I declared casually.

The truth was that I'd worked in a massage therapy place for a bit in the other timeline - one of the nice ones that never got raided by the cops. It was good money but too physically demanding for me to consider making a career out of it. A casual massage for a friend, though? I was more than capable of that.

"Well, good job on that, then," she almost purred as she relaxed even more.

"You were looking tense," I commented. We had been texting but hadn't seen each other in person in a while. Maybe that was what made me so eager to touch her?

"I was tense," she grumbled. "The tests they're making me go through are wearing me out."

"Just think, once you're done, you'll be able to go out and heal all the people you want," I offered, renewing my attack on the upper parts of her shoulder blades.

"For free," she grumbled. "Well, mostly for free. I can't believe you convinced mom to negotiate a consulting contract with the PRT and the city government."

I laughed. "It was easy. She already negotiated the same thing for Taylor's copy of your power, and it only makes sense to charge the only ones you're really allowed to charge under the laws."

"I'll still be doing the healing for the local Protectorate for free, but everyone else can pay reasonable rates," she agreed then yawned cavernously.

"Getting tired?" I asked. She really wasn't tense anymore.

"Not too much, I think I'm just so relaxed I'm forgetting to breathe," she mumbled and fumbled for her phone. "We have an hour… and I'm starting to think maybe I could do with a nap."

"That does sound good," I admitted.

That was why I woke up an hour later to the sounds of Victoria giggling and taking pictures of her sister and I snuggled up together under a blanket. Taylor, the traitor, was laughing, too.

oOoOoOoOo

"You're doing great," Triumph encouraged.

I flopped down on the mat. "I feel like I'm made of jelly," I definitely did not whine.

"But it's jelly that's doing great," he returned with a chuckle. "You'll be happy you put in the work if you need to run away from someone later."

I just groaned and looked up from my spot to watch Taylor running another lap. Her legs were super long which made it totally unfair for me to try to keep up with her.

"It's only day three," I grumbled, but accepted the water bottle that Triumph tossed me and drained half of it in one long chug.

"You came back for day three, so that's kind of an accomplishment on its own."

"I thought this was mandatory?" I questioned.

"Technically, you're just required to pass the fitness benchmarks. After you do that, then it's all optional. However, you can't pass those yet, so… yes, mandatory," he answered and I realized that was why I didn't see the rest of the team living in the gym like we were at the moment.

Taylor collapsed beside me as she finished her last lap of the small gym and gladly took the half-drunk bottle of water out of my hand to drain the rest.

"You two can take ten minutes if you want. Taylor, Aegis is going to be in to work on hand to hand with you in a bit. Madison and I can head over to the range."

"Anything is better than running," I agreed. Meanwhile, Taylor was blushing because I was pretty sure she had a bit of a crush on Carlos. It seemed like a terrible idea to date a teammate, but when she had been talking about her 'type', it had fit him pretty well.

Then again, I wasn't one to talk, what with dating a cluster-mate. I was a little concerned that whatever force had been messing with us before might see Taylor's attention straying and do something about it. We hadn't seen any overt mind whammies from it outside of the first one, but that didn't stop me from worrying about it.
 
Knowing the Wards have their back feels genuinely wholesome.

Wards hang-out when?--
 
15 Testing
The week before Christmas turned into our first real week of training as Wards, which had been a mixed experience. Triumph stepped up the physical fitness portion which I kind of hated. I was a fairly sedentary person in both lives and while I was thin, that didn't mean I was fit.

Power training was more interesting, of course, though the initial rounds where I had gone through doing everything that I could do to an inert rod covered in Armsmaster's sensors had been pretty tedious. Once he determined that nothing I was doing was making the rod dangerously radioactive or threatening to cause something he called 'false vacuum decay', I'd been cleared to work on things without him present, and Triumph had grabbed ahold of me almost immediately.

I was more than a little jealous of the way Taylor's power worked. When she copied a power, she got an immediate, instinctual idea of how to use it. Practicing with it or watching the original user use it improved her proficiency, though there seemed to be diminishing returns on doing so with each individual power. Ultimately, that meant that she probably wouldn't reach the same level of skill as the original user, but it wasn't a big enough margin to be noticeable unless she was right beside the person she was copying. Even then, it seemed to be more of a function of her skill with using the power than the power's raw strength.

In addition to the powers she'd borrowed from New Wave, she copied Triumph's and Aegis's powers. Eventually, she would get through the whole Wards team, but she wasn't going to be allowed to touch the powers of most Protectorate members for a while. I wasn't entirely sure who had given that order, but it must have been from someone high up because Armsmaster had seemed disappointed by it. I strongly suspected that he wanted to find out if she could copy Tinker powers, which I was admittedly also curious about. Unfortunately, the Wards didn't currently have one and I couldn't remember when Kid Win had joined the team in the other timeline.

For the moment, Taylor was focusing on practicing and understanding the powers she had instead of adding more to her arsenal. Since she could only use one at a time, it seemed reasonable for her to pause and gain proficiency instead of piling on more options. Her worst enemy would probably be stretching herself too thin.

My powers had some of the same pitfalls while also being the opposite of hers in other ways.

I only had a single power - or maybe two powers that worked closely together and looked like one from the outside - but that single power was versatile to the point that it almost seemed like magic. I had nearly complete dominion over everything non-living within my range as long as I could envision it as an energy effect of some sort. Thermal energy and kinetic energy were the most obvious, but there were so many options that it was difficult to count - particularly because I wasn't limited to a single effect at a time.

That boring testing with Armsmaster had produced some useful results, in addition to having my powers declared mostly safe to experiment with. We had discovered that my ability to turn 'down' an energy was faster than my ability to turn it 'up'. That meant that defensive applications of my power were more efficient than offensive, and that gave Triumph a place to start on exercises.

"Where did you even find two pitching machines?" I asked as he finished setting up the practice area in the small Wards gym.

"It's amazing what you can rent in this city," he answered with a grin. "Alright, so here's what we're going to do… That dummy right there is your teammate." He pointed to a rubber head and torso on a stand wearing a domino mask. I was pretty sure that it was meant to be used as a martial arts dummy, but I just found it a little creepy. "I'm going to shoot baseballs at it, and your job is going to be to stop them."

That sounded easy enough and setting the kinetic energy of the air in front of the dummy to a static level would 'drink' in everything that the balls could provide, each of them dropping to the ground afterwards. Where things got more complicated was when we were working on my speed. I could raise a barrier quickly, but not instantly, so when the balls were being fired about a second apart, I only ended up blocking about half of them.

"Alright, that's still good," Triumph declared as he started gathering up balls into a bucket to reload the machine. He got about half of them before I just made the rest float into the bucket. "You could have started with that…" he grumbled, but that didn't slow him down. "Anyway, you can block stuff but you have to get your barrier up ahead of time. Understanding your limits is an important first step because that means we can figure out how to work around them. We're a team, so knowing how to work with each other's powers is even more important than having individually strong powers."

Triumph was a pretty decent planner and big on teamwork. Over the course of that week, he worked with me on defensive drills and my speed did seem to get a bit better at raising and lowering barriers. We also worked on coordination drills so that my defense didn't interfere with the attacks of my allies because of the second weakness of my powers. While I could set a field to move at a set distance from myself and to automatically adjust to my own motions, I didn't have the ability to do so for allies.

If I had a friend inside a defensive bubble, I had to manually adjust the barrier around them or the bubble stayed in place. Worse, while I had discovered that I could do some limited manipulation of forces by 'feel' without looking at them directly, detailed results - like keeping a barrier moving around a teammate - required me to be able to see what I was doing. Raising a defensive dome was almost trivial, but if I wanted to have the parts of the dome behind me do anything complicated, that was nearly impossible.

In the end, that meant that my shields were great for areas and allies that fought from range, but much less useful for those that attacked physically. Aegis was a great example of someone that I couldn't shield very well while Triumph was much easier to protect while still allowing him to use his roars.

Clockblocker was generally in that group, though he needed to succeed at fewer strikes to incapacitate a target, making it a little more manageable in theory. The more interesting thing we discovered when working together was that I could turn off the effect his power had on something by adjusting the energy that was holding it locked. It was the first kind of line that I had discovered that was only there when a power put it there and also the first kind of line that I could only adjust in one direction. I couldn't copy Clockblocker's power, but I could cause the lines representing it to stop moving, which effectively broke the effect.

At least in theory, it was a good synergy between us since his temporal lock was normally unpredictable. As long as I did it before his minimum time lapsed, that meant we could coordinate when the lock ended, which opened a lot of tactical doors to the whole team. It also helped alleviate one of the biggest dangers he faced - getting stuck in something he froze accidentally.

Even with all of those advantages, however, he didn't really like the fact that I could basically no-sell his power with a thought. He didn't get outright hostile about it, but he was a little snippy with me after we made the discovery. Discussing all of the ways it benefited him as part of the team mollified him a little, but not completely.

Vista's power was similar in that I could sense what she did to space and turn it off, but I couldn't replicate the effect myself. Fortunately, she wasn't as annoyed by that as Clockblocker had been.

On the other hand, Gallant was a different story. I could block his emotion beams by locking certain aspects of the air in a shield, but I couldn't undo whatever effect they had on people. It might have been an aspect of the Manton limit of my powers, though that limitation was somewhat confusing since I could unfreeze people that Clockblocker froze. There must have been some sort of distinction in how the effects were achieved that my powers picked up on - I just wished they bothered to explain it to me.

Working with Taylor would be an entirely different level of complexity, but it mostly followed the same lines. If her power relied on 'simple' attacks like one of Glory Girl's punches, I could deal with it like any other punch. If it was more exotic - like a laser beam - I could turn it off or block it but not necessarily replicate it. Given that a lot of exotic effects were just odd ways to deliver kinetic or thermal energy, it didn't matter that much since I could replicate the effects, but it was confusing on what was and what was not within my power.

The approach of Christmas also meant that I was very close to being done with Winslow, and that was one of the best gifts I could get. At least, that's what I'd hoped.

oOoOoOoOo

Sophia was back as Emma's shadow during the half-week leading up to Christmas. I wasn't entirely sure where she had disappeared to in that week or so that I hadn't seen her lurking, but it probably had to do with her attempting to set Taylor up for drugs. It was either that or Emma only wanted her around when she was talking to me if she was sure that she could 'win' one of our little spars.

In any case, it was the last day before break, which was my blessed last day at Winslow, so of course Emma had to have one last confrontation with me. Not only did she have Sophia with her but three of the other girls that were teetering on the edge of becoming her minions, so she must have been feeling extra confident as she cornered me in the hallway after lunch.

"It's so sad about your little girlfriend," she simpered in her best fake sympathy which had just the right hint of mocking underneath it. I had to admit that she was refining her techniques very quickly. "You're going to be at Arcadia and she's going to be left behind all on her own. Don't worry, I'll make sure to keep a close eye on her."

I was genuinely confused for a moment. Amy was already at Arcadia and it was probably a little bold to call her my girlfriend just now. I mean, we had been flirting a lot and sort of dating, but we hadn't actually said 'girlfriend' or anything. "No, she-" I caught myself as I realized that Emma wouldn't have been referring to Amy, at all. "Oh, Taylor. You… think Taylor won't be going to Arcadia?"

I didn't quite understand where she had gotten that idea from until I realized that she wasn't privy to most of the stuff I had learned about the investigation. From the outside, it might have looked like Taylor was at home because she was being punished when the reality was that the PRT had decided that leaving her home would help prevent any further incidents while she waited to transfer out.

Something about my tone must have thrown her, because Emma sounded less sure of herself for a moment before she could completely recover. "Yes, Taylor. It's so tragic that she was almost able to get out of our poor, underfunded inner city school, but her demons must have been too much for her. Not only is she going to end up trapped here, but with a criminal record to go along with it-"

The smart thing to do would have been to not react to Emma's little rant. In the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter what she believed, and leaving her with an unsolved mystery would have been the best course of action. However, the act she was putting on just seemed so juvenile - so petty - and so obviously wrong that I couldn't help myself. I laughed. Not a little giggle, either, but a big, full laugh right in her face.

"Do you know that Arcadia students only go to classes for half a day? The other half, they spend in an affiliate program. There are a bunch of options, but the important thing is that Taylor's internship drug tested her as soon as she applied, which was before the whole locker raid. She was clean and someone there must really like her because they pushed back on the school and the police as soon as they heard about it." I should have stopped there, but I was really enjoying the look of growing confusion on Emma's face. "I heard that someone in the BBPD actually cared and now they're looking into it deeper. The rumor I heard was that the drugs they found in her locker had a lot in common with drugs found in several other people's lockers these last few months. Suspiciously easy to find, no fingerprints, you know… planted. By an amateur."

The only thing I can say in my defense was that I was a good enough actress to not look in Sophia's direction at all. Instead, I focused on Emma like I believed she was the culprit. I couldn't help but keep pushing, despite the fact that it was a terrible idea to do so. "Who did you blow for a locker master key, Emma? Was it one of the guys that works in the school store? The guy that wears the bowtie, maybe? I bet he would go for that. We all know how much practice you get-"

I honestly didn't expect Emma to hit me. Sophia? Yes. She's a violent maniac. Emma? She's a catty bitch that I've never seen make a fist. The good thing about not expecting it was that I didn't have to deal with a moral dilemma about publicly defending myself with my powers. There was no time to raise a shield and-or set her on fire. On the other hand, she had six inches and at least twenty pounds on me. Her fist plowed into my face, my face went flying backwards along with the rest of my head, quickly followed by the rest of my body as I momentarily went boneless in shock and pain. I landed flat on my back.

I think that Emma was just as surprised as I was because for several long seconds, no one made a sound. Then I said, in a very flat voice, "Ouch."
 
Definitely wasn't the wisest move to provoke Emma, but if I was Madison I would have done worse and said waaaay more things just to wipe the look off her face. I'm hoping Emma gets suspended for punching a student, but it's unlikely.

At least this is the last time we see her (hopefully)?
 
Honestly, i see Emma bullying someone in fanfics so often that now my attitude to it comes down to a simple: "Just kill her already!", lol.
 
So if she can turn off Clockblocker's freezes, can she make it last indefinitely by turning it up as it decays/times out? And can she do the same for the Gray Boy bubbles?
 
The power interactions are neat, in a technical sense, but I felt the lack of direction steeply. Where was that will that broke the direction of time, determination to protect and support Taylor? It feels like Madison is just going along with things and reacting, as she used to at that age.

I'm unsure what I'd should look forward to in future chapters, given that. Some kind of foreshadowing or personal goals or such would be nice. At this point, I feel I can mainly expect more wards, Amychatting and school chapters, which are mostly slice of life. 'cept the first two were bit heavy on tell recently.

Though all this may be just personal writing-unrelated mood, mind.

The second half is little more enthralling, if Watsonian-dumb. "Trapped here", how revealing Emma. Though I'm sure Madison's slip with the girlfriend part might have been noted by someone if they had lot of watchers - well, not like that matters long-term on literally the last day. Shame the only watchers were three girls who might say Madison just tripped.

Anyway, if Sophia already spent a week away from school not in hospital it might be just Emma who ends up 'trapped' at Winslow, as the "real predator" decides to cut her losses alongside compulsory waste of time entirely.

Could make her end up as being bloodier vigilante than canon, I guess. Coil would like to have her.
 
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16 Crying
"And that's my Christmas gift to you," I declared as I finished recounting the story of how Emma punched me in the face and got herself suspended on the last day before Christmas break.

Taylor's eyes had grown steadily wider as I told the story, but they narrowed at the end. "I thought you said that the smart thing to do would be to keep our mouths shut and let the PRT do their thing." It wasn't a question, it was an accusation.

I laughed nervously because I had said that. Several times. "Uh, yeah, that would have been the smart thing to do…"

"But you decided to antagonize Emma, just when we're about to be free of her and tip her off that her scheme wasn't going to work." The more Taylor talked, the more attacked I began to feel.

"Well, from a certain perspective, I guess…" That was the correct perspective, of course, but it sounded so harsh when she put it that way.

"And what did Agent-what's-her-name have to say about it?" she asked again, somehow picking exactly the right things to dig at.

"Agent Lawson said that I should have found a way to avoid a fight," I didn't mumble. "And she's making me review some manuals next week." That had been an awkward conversation. She hadn't been mad, but she had sounded disappointed, which was worse. The fact that next week - the week between Christmas and New Years - was an unofficial 'no work' week for the Wards which meant that my assignment was a punishment, if a light one.

Taylor let out a huge sigh and then leaned forward, grabbing me in a hug. "It's alright," she mumbled, though I think it was as much said to herself as it was to me. I hugged her back because, frankly, I needed it.

"How did you get out of there without them noticing you didn't have any marks on you? Wait, you didn't get yourself kicked out of Arcadia, did you?" Taylor asked after she sat back a few minutes later.

"I kept an ice pack on it the whole time. I pretended it hurt really badly and refused to let anyone look at it," I said. I had experienced a brief moment of panic in the nurse's office when I realized that the pain was gone and all the physical signs of the injury were gone. I could have tried to pretend that Emma was such a weakling that she'd been unable to hurt me, but everyone had seen the big red mark right after the attack. "And no… mom came to get me and she and Principal Blackwell had a chat. There was… a little yelling."

"Your mom isn't mad at you, is she?" Taylor asked quietly. Somehow we'd ended up in the reverse of our typical positions and she was trying to brush my hair. It wasn't going well as my hair liked to make tangles out of itself.

"Kinda, but not because I was fighting. She got Blackwell to agree that if she just didn't write me up then mom wouldn't make a stink about how they were letting me get bullied. Zero tolerance policy or not, I don't think Blackwell wants to deal with that when she can just not do anything and never have to see me again." Mom had been more annoyed with me than Blackwell, but mostly because I hadn't planted Emma on the ground for daring to mess with me. She knew as well as I did that this way worked out better, but she was always weird that way about fights.

"Are we still going to be able to get together after Christmas?" she asked as she worked on some of the small knots she'd made by trying to brush the rat's nest I called hair. I grunted because it hurt, but I kind of liked having it messed with so I didn't stop her.

"I haven't been told I can't go. Amy would be pissed if we didn't make it." We had kind of vague plans to meet up after family stuff was over since we all had the next week off.

"Do you think Victoria will be there?" she asked as nonchalantly as possible. She really wasn't a very good actress, though.

I chuckled. "If she is, she will probably have Dean with her and they'll be glued to each other."

Taylor made a gagging noise. "I am not a fan of Dean," she grumbled.

"You like Dean, you just don't like the fact that he's dating the girl you have a crush on." I tried to make it teasing because Dean really was likable. It was almost infuriating how hard it was to dislike him, even if I wanted to root for Taylor in the non-existent love triangle.

"I'm going to pretend I can't hear you," she said primly.

oOoOoOoOo

Christmas was nice. My family went to see my grandparents across town and we had dinner together on Christmas Eve before exchanging gifts. I got mostly clothes, though I did receive the customary hundred-dollar bill I'd gotten from them every year since I could remember. There were no cars with bows on them or any of that silly stuff, but I also got a nice new winter coat out of the deal.

There was a bit of extra celebration because my parents had shared with them that I had won an essay contest and with it a coveted spot at Arcadia. They weren't in the know about powers, and I was fine with that. It wasn't that I didn't trust them, but the more people that knew, the more risk there was for everyone involved.

Christmas Day, we spent 'as a family', which was kind of boring but nice in its own way. Mom and dad were both off for the whole day - a rare occurrence - and we made a big breakfast that turned into a kind of combination breakfast and lunch. I would have called it brunch, but I was pretty sure that brunch had its own kind of menu while this was literally just breakfast served as an early lunch.

In any case, I spent my afternoon in the old shed in the backyard putting the finishing touches on the gifts I intended for my friends. Taylor, Amy, and I had agreed on a spending limit for our gift exchange of a few bucks, but I intended to cheat a little bit. One of the non-team things I had been working on with my powers was precise control, both of effect and of the size of the object I could manipulate. When I had started, my limit was around the size of my smallest finger and I'd managed to improve on that a little bit.

I melted down pennies and old nails - separately - to get a couple of metals that I could draw into thick wire using my power and then weave together into bracelets. I couldn't have managed the wire in short sections, but somehow taking a long enough piece of it seemed to satisfy my power's limitations. Somehow. Polished, the bracelets looked nice enough, though I had no idea what metals were really in them. I still made a matched set of three as 'friendship bracelets' for gifts. They had cost me, literally, pennies and were kind of cool in a shiny, chunky way.

I stuffed them into small boxes, wrapped them up, and had them ready to go a few days later when we finally all had freedom to meet up.

"How was Christmas?" I asked Taylor when we met up at the bus stop. We'd both gotten off transfers so we could take the bus to Amy's and were sheltering in the little covered area while we waited. I'd actually opted to miss the first bus so that we could ride together.

"Boring," she said, though she didn't look unhappy. "Dad actually had off the whole last half of the week and all weekend. So that's been nice, I guess."

"That's good. Mine are kind of rotating, but we did get all of Christmas Day together, which was good." I spotted the bus down the street a bit at that point and we lapsed into companionable silence for a bit. Being out in public together had gotten a little awkward because we couldn't really talk about most of the stuff that we really wanted to talk about.

The front door of the Dallon household opened to reveal a grinning Victoria. "Mistletoe!" she declared and held a plastic sprig of the stuff above my head. Quick as could be, she gave me a kiss on both cheeks and then did the same thing to Taylor while giggling the whole time.

If I was looking dazed, that was nothing compared to Taylor's expression.

Victoria vanished in a fit of giggles, leaving us to find our way to Amy's room on our own. We managed, somehow.

"Is she okay?" Amy asked when we walked in. I turned to look behind me and Taylor was still blushing with her eyes wide.

"Yes, your sister just… Well, it's…" I didn't really want to out Taylor, especially considering it was just a bit of a crush.

"She did the mistletoe thing, didn't she? She's been doing that to everyone for a couple of days, just to get a rise out of people." Amy sighed, though she was smiling when she did it.

"Yeah, it's a bit…" I looked for words and I couldn't find them.

"Victoria is a bit much, sometimes," she grinned and poked Taylor in the side.

That broke the tension and we had a pleasant afternoon chatting and hanging out. My bracelets were well received and I liked the little bowling pin keyring that Amy got for me to commemorate our first date. Taylor, the nerd, gave books. Mine was titled Do It Yourself Coffins for Pets and People.

I gave her a strange look and she just grinned, shrugged, and declared, "I thought of you when I saw it." That both explained everything and nothing.

"Are you two excited to start Arcadia?" Amy asked a little later as she flopped half onto me on her window bench while Taylor claimed a part of the floor.

"A bit," I admitted and Taylor made a similar noise.

Amy's fingers traced across my arm. "I'm going to like seeing you more," she said, a little bashfully. Then she looked up to Taylor. "Oh, and we need to find you a girlfriend, too. That isn't my painfully taken sister. What's your type?"

There was a moment of awkward silence after that. Finally, Taylor blurted out, "I don't actually like girls. It's just… Victoria…"

Amy's eyes went wide in horror, but not for the reason I expected. "Oh. Oh, no. I'm so sorry." Then she scrunched her eyes shut and started taking deep breaths in an effort to calm herself down, I assumed.

I took her hand. "Amy, what's wrong?"

It took her another moment or so, but she finally regained her composure. "I'm so sorry, Taylor. I think it's my fault."

"How is it your fault?" Taylor asked in confusion. I was right there with her.

"You know how when this all started, I talked about how multiple-triggers can get… weird? Like, they can trade around personality traits and stuff?"

"Or how ours can mind control us to get what it wants?" I supplied. That really was the big thing we tried not to think about too much.

"Yes, or that. But the switching around… well… I haven't been thinking about it. I never even really noticed it was gone, but… well, I used to have a huge crush on my sister." Before either of us could really react to that, she rushed on. "I'm adopted. I was five or six when I came to live here and, well, you've met Carol. She isn't… she's not a very good mother. She has other good qualities, but not… those. Anyway, Mark's really depressed, too, so he's not very present and Victoria is the only person in the house who…"

I pulled her closer to me in a one-armed hug. Taylor stayed where she was, listening to what Amy was saying with dawning horror.

"It was just a crush, but then, after we all got powers, it was just kind of gone and everything was better between us and… now you're dealing with it, and I'm sorry," Amy finished lamely.

Taylor looked conflicted for a few moments before she got up and came over to give Amy a hug from the other side. "It's okay. It's… not the best thing in the world, but I'd rather be the one dealing with it than you. I don't have to live with her and… well, it's better than the mind control thing. Now that I know it's a stupid powers thing, I can deal with it better. It's not even that bad, it's just a bit embarrassing."

Amy was crying. I was crying. Taylor was crying. We were all crying. Then there was hugging and then a little laughing and eventually the tension broke.
 
"Kinda, but not because I was fighting. She got Blackwell to agree that if she just didn't write me up then mom wouldn't make a stink about how they were letting me get bullied. Zero tolerance policy or not, I don't think Blackwell wants to deal with that when she can just not do anything and never have to see me again." Mom had been more annoyed with me than Blackwell, but mostly because I hadn't planted Emma on the ground for daring to mess with me. She knew as well as I did that this way worked out better, but she was always weird that way about fights.
*confused* Worked out better in what way? Given that I don't think the Mrs. Clements knows Sophia is a cape, getting suspended would be something Madison could just ignore at this point, being the last day and having her mom there to take her home, while Emma couldn't. And now Emma's rep is that principal won't do anything to her if she punches smaller girls to school nurse.
(Where was Alan during this, though?)

Ignoring this uses less energy from the Mrs, granted, but that's not what she did - she went out of her way to convince principal to an agreement to the benefit of her daughter's assaulter when it would have been quicker to just walk out of the door with Madison instead of arguing for that.

And, one might consider Mrs. Clements sees Madison as someone who is supposed to catch criminals but gets laid down in single suckerpunch by a non-athletic teenage girl, in this situation.

In conclusion: These actions don't quite agree with the motive of "get my daughter out trouble" motive Madison perceives. They agree better with "my daughter should rely on her own strength, not go to authorities". Welp, that could cause some friction when Frequency joins the government - though idk if there's much besides drama to write about there.

(As for the school side, not that it matters much longer, it's also a bit odd that the same person who passed zero tolerance policy, being the principal, would then turn around and take a busy/silent parent as an excuse to not apply it. However, assuming this applies to other students as well, it's basically open season on neglected/poor household students for the new and victorious 'predator'.)
That broke the tension and we had a pleasant afternoon chatting and hanging out. My bracelets were well received and I liked the little bowling pin keyring that Amy got for me to commemorate our first date. Taylor, the nerd, gave books. Mine was titled Do It Yourself Coffins for Pets and People.

I gave her a strange look and she just grinned, shrugged, and declared, "I thought of you when I saw it." That both explained everything and nothing.
Is that humor or useful book? Well, either way Taylor made the biggest gifts here, and only one who didn't give metal. Symbolic.
Amy was crying. I was crying. Taylor was crying. We were all crying. Then there was hugging and then a little laughing and eventually the tension broke.
This was bit sudden jump from lame apology/acceptance. Given immediate previous context, I'm assuming shards be "Yay they're friends again".

It might be that they misunderstood last hug Taylor and Madison shared.
 
There's a through-line with Madison's mother where she believes that losing a fight is worse than being in one. It happens all the way back from the first chapter when she was definitely not a cape.
Yeah, that's not a motive Madison failed to perceive here. But her mother did nothing then, though. Now, she bothered to put in more effort. Madison failed to grasp why, falling back on her own view of world and previously know motives.
It's a real book. That's about all I can say for certain.
Seems like serious woodworking book. Law of conservation of narrative will be happy at the reduction in canon-cast character bloat, though this fic only really focuses on handful.
 
17 Becoming Official
It didn't take long for me to understand why Wards were paid a salary rather than an hourly rate. Between Christmas and New Years, I found myself hanging out at the Wards base almost as much as I was at home and defining what amount of that was 'on the clock' and what was not would have been nearly impossible. There was a minimum time commitment, but it was so low that I had a feeling it would never really come up for me. What was probably more likely to come up were the overtime and add-on rates we could charge for working outside of our normal hours or performing certain services we had specifically negotiated fees for.

During that same time period, I did get together with Amy a couple of times to hang out, but we mostly just listened to music or scrolled through our phones while being near each other. It was very nice, but not at all like I had always assumed teenage romances would be.

Part of that, I realized, was me. I was dating a fifteen year old while being fourteen, twenty, or possibly twenty-one, depending on how you counted time. I didn't feel like I was twenty most of the time - I still felt fourteen - but I had been a shitty twenty-year-old recluse so maybe that was a lot of it.

In my first time through, my life had basically stopped at fifteen. That's when Leviathan had attacked and the full horror of what I had helped create became clear. Everything after that was kind of a blur of self-loathing and obsession that culminated in my trigger and subsequent trip back in time. I had done things and experienced things during that period, but none of them had been important. Not like things seemed to be important now, anyway.

So, I was physically a teenager and dating a teenager and my head was screwed up. I didn't want to be predatory, so I kind of defaulted to being passive in our relationship and that left Amy to lead and she'd clearly not dated before. Not that I had, either, but that line of thought was getting circular. It left us in a kind of perpetual 'taking things slow' state which didn't bother me at all. Like I said, it was very nice.

Taylor was also at the Wards HQ quite a bit, too, as it was structured kind of like a hangout club with the intention of enticing teen heroes to hang out. If you had a bunch of teenagers with powers, what better way to keep them out of trouble than to give them somewhere to be where they were unlikely to get into trouble? If it also made them look at the government in a more favorable light and kept them nearby for emergencies, so much the better.

There were officially no Wards activities for the week - other than my punishment detail of reviewing training materials on de-escalation techniques - but Triumph was happy to run us ragged in the hopes that we would eventually pass the mandatory physical fitness exams. Aegis was also happy to put Taylor through her paces in hand-to-hand training, and I was starting to think that there might be something between the two of them. He was nice enough and after learning the truth of Taylor's crush on Victoria, I hoped that he would at least give her a shot. She deserved a chance at something remotely normal.

Things went well right up until we started school the first week of twenty-ten at Arcadia… then they continued to go well, which was a trend that started to make me nervous. Ever since I had come back in time, nothing had gone well for too long at a stretch without exploding somehow.

Arcadia was a nice school and the contrast with Winslow was striking. It wasn't perfect, by any means, but there was fresh paint on the walls and everything that was supposed to work - like light fixtures and doors - did.

I found myself milling around in an auditorium with around twenty other girls and a few boys that were transferring in from all over the greater Bay area. The group seemed to be overwhelmingly made up of a couple of body types - scrawny and tall or scrawny and short - and most people had long dark hair, as well. It was easy to see the effect the PRT was going for. Just because a deception was blatant didn't mean it wasn't also effective.

"Welcome, everyone, to a new semester at Arcadia," a smooth baritone voice called as an older black gentleman walked down the aisle and climbed onto the stage. He didn't bother grabbing a microphone. "If you can't hear me, come on down a bit closer," he said, though his voice did seem to carry well.

"I'm vice-principal Adams, and I'm the one that looks after your grade. I'll follow your year level all the way through graduation, so feel free to come to me with any issues. I look forward to getting to know all of you over the next three and a half years. Give or take," he chuckled like it was a joke, though I didn't quite get it. "There's a brief orientation video that we show everyone when they arrive, so sit back and pay attention. There might be a quiz after."

He laughed again, though I wasn't sure there had actually been a joke in that, either. True to his word, a video started to play on the projector screen at the back of the stage. It was accompanied by a heavily produced audio track that tried just a little too hard to be cool.

What followed was about half an hour of painful sketches and presentations about the way the school worked and the rules we needed to be aware of. The most important takeaway from the whole thing was that no one was supposed to try to figure out the identities of Wards, and gossiping about it could get you in trouble or even expelled.

Arcadia ran on a half-day schedule that was kind of crazy, too. In the mornings, there were typical academic classes. In the afternoons, the school hosted study halls but also encouraged students to take part in 'a wide variety of exciting, real world opportunities'. There were programs for Brockton Bay University, Brockton Bay Technical Institute, and a number of work-study programs. It all amounted to an excellent opportunity to let Wards come and go as they pleased. I found out as much when I met with a counselor after the presentation and was informed that my 'application' to study office management with 'Abrams Consulting' had been approved.

The only downer was that I only had one class with Taylor and one class with Amy. My other two classes - because they somehow managed to fit four classes into a half day - included no one that I knew.

Other than that, Arcadia was… well, fine. It was nicer than Winslow and the teachers certainly seemed to care more, but high school was high school. I had eventually graduated in my other life - not that education was terribly important in the aftermath of Gold Morning - so I was hopeful that most of it would be a review and I could focus on cape stuff instead.

Between the orientation assembly, waiting to talk to the counselor, and filling out about a million forms, the only time we had with the other students at Arcadia on our first day was at lunch. Lunch was also the last part of the 'regular' day before everyone was officially dismissed to their afternoon assignments. Given that many students were leaving afterwards, anyway, a lot of them were allowed to skip out on it entirely which explained why they could get away with only one lunch period for the entire school.

"Taylor, Madison, over here," I heard as we walked into the lunch room. I turned to find that Victoria, against my expectations, wasn't one of the people that cut out early. Instead, she was at a table with quite a few other students.

She then proceeded to introduce us around to several other people, the only two of which I recognized were Dean and Rory. There were a lot of names thrown at me in a short period of time, but I had always been good with names and I memorized their faces to go with them. I did my best to pretend that I didn't know the two Wards, and eventually Amy grabbed my hand to haul me away from the group to actually get my lunch. Taylor drifted along in our wake.

"Sorry, she's a bit much," Amy apologized as she pulled me along with her, her hand not leaving mine. I wasn't going to complain.

"Enthusiastic," I agreed. I remembered all of the rumors about Glory Girl in the other timeline being an idiot. I'd interacted with her enough to know that she wasn't dumb actually dumb. In fact, she was rather intelligent, but she could also be impulsive and over-eager. That led to incidents where she could have been labeled a moron.

I gave Amy's hand a squeeze. "Are we…"

She looked down to our joined hands and then back to my face with a faint blush on her cheeks. "Yeah, that's fine. I don't care if people know. Do you…"

"It's cool," I declared, well aware that I was also blushing. Really, the whole fourteen or twenty thing would have been better if it was consistent or even if they averaged out somehow. At that moment, I was entirely fourteen.

"You two are adorable, but I'm hungry," Taylor cut in as she breezed past us with a small grin on her face. It just made me blush harder.

After lunch, I reported to 'Abrams Consulting' which was, shockingly, a front for an access tunnel into the PRT building and spent the rest of the day either hanging out in the Wards area doing the small bit of homework that I had or training in the gym. As newbies, Taylor and I hadn't been formally introduced to the public, so we wouldn't be on patrol or doing events anytime soon, but we did have a lot of mandatory training sessions to get through. That was definitely more interesting than my regular classes, if only barely.

School had started back on a Tuesday and the biggest thing happening that week was my meeting with the PRT Department of Public Image on Thursday afternoon. Taylor's would be Friday, and I was pretty nervous to be going first. My fellow Wards had a wealth of advice, though I hesitated to call it good advice.

"You have to look the weasel in the eye and establish dominance. It's the only way," Dennis declared with a thick accent that I assumed was supposed to be Australian. I was pretty sure he would get bashed over the head with a didgeridoo if he actually let someone from Australia hear it, though.

Rory cleared his throat loudly. "Don't take advice from Dennis," our fearless leader declared solemnly.

"In general?" I asked, trying to stop myself from snickering at the byplay.

"Well, I would take all of it with a grain of salt, but specifically with regards to PR and public image. How many hours of training did they hit you with for changing your name at the announcement, again?" Rory gave Dennis a meaningful look.

Dennis, for his part, just rolled his eyes. "They wanted to call me Clockstopper. Like Crimestopper, but with clocks. Or… a lot of other stuff. You have to admit that Clockblocker just rolls off the tongue. People remember it."

"Dennis is sort of right, though," Missy chimed in. "I mean, not about the name he picked, but you have to push back on them or they will stick you with something horrible. They wanted to give me a candy fairy theme."

"It couldn't have been that bad," Rory tried, but I could tell that he wasn't entirely convinced of that.

"No, it was worse. It had rainbow colored wings and big fake candy pieces on a poofy dress. It was hideous and made me look like I was five." The loathing in Missy's voice made me feel a little bad for thinking that the outfit didn't sound terrible. I could probably do an adorable and childish persona better than I could do something more adult. Then again, Missy had been - and still was - the youngest member of the Wards and the only girl for a long time, so she was certainly fighting for respect, even if it was just in her own perception.

"Oh, I know, your name should be Funstopper," Dennis declared. "Because you can turn off power effects and stuff. Or Fun Ruiner." When we had discovered that I could end the effect his power had on things, he'd been a little weird about it, and this seemed like an extension of that.

"Be nice, Dennis," Rory warned.

"I am being nice," Dennis defended. "I don't want her getting stuck with a boring name. Oh, how about Clamjammer? Then we can match-"

Dennis was cut off by Missy giving him a rough shoulder to the side of his arm. "Even if she did go with that, why would you suggest it in front of the rest of us? They'd consider us all accomplices! We'd all be stuck in PR training until this time next year."

"Fine, fine. I'm just trying to help," Dennis grumbled, though from the little smile on his face, I could tell that he'd accomplished what he was trying to do.

Once he wandered off, Rory bumped his knuckles against my arm. "Hey, don't stress about it too much. They'll work with you and they're usually open to suggestions. Just… feel free to say no if they suggest something you don't like. You're probably going to be stuck with it until you hit Protectorate age."

I took a deep breath. "Yeah, no pressure or anything."
 
It was cool of Dennis to distract Missy from her problems with the PR department. I like the way that you have these subtle interactions happen in the background that the protagonist isn't aware of the implications of. It makes the situation feel more real.
 
Things went well right up until we started school the first week of twenty-ten at Arcadia… then they continued to go well, which was a trend that started to make me nervous. Ever since I had come back in time, nothing had gone well for too long at a stretch without exploding somehow.
I'm with Mads on this one. I can feel the other shoe just waiting to drop...
 
Well, that's some chilling handholding.
(in the sense of netflix & chill, not in the sense of being uneasy. English darn it)
I could probably do an adorable and childish persona better than I could do something more adult.
The fact that the two are same height gives a neat opportunity to 'betray' Missy by acting in her specialty.

Though between the thread title and previous comment, I'm more primed to expect a music theme.
"I'm vice-principal Adams, and I'm the one that looks after your grade. I'll follow your year level all the way through graduation, so feel free to come to me with any issues. I look forward to getting to know all of you over the next three and a half years. Give or take,"
Early graduation?

I'm not clear on why Madison and Taylor, who entered at the same time, have different schedules anyway - though I guess picking those might have been timeskipped over, I'd have guessed the two would talk with each other rather than be saddened at the unluckiness of only one shared class.

Unless it's same classes, just different parallels. It's not mentioned how many of those Arcadia has anyway, but must be at least 3.

eventually Amy grabbed my hand to haul me away from the group to actually get my lunch. Taylor drifted along in our wake.

"Sorry, she's a bit much," Amy apologized as she pulled me along with her, her hand not leaving mine. I wasn't going to complain.
Last chapter primed me to expect Amy to help avoid contact between Taylor and Vicky, or for Taylor to stay at the table and ask the pair to grab for her (since Amy already arrived earlier anyway, free pair of hands).

Kinda expected some resolution for change out of a cry together, and it feels weird how the scenario would be no different from Taylor not really caring about Victoria one way or another. On that note:
Part of that, I realized, was me. I was dating a fifteen year old while being fourteen, twenty, or possibly twenty-one, depending on how you counted time. I didn't feel like I was twenty most of the time - I still felt fourteen - but I had been a shitty twenty-year-old recluse so maybe that was a lot of it.
What if that is the major part of her person Madison gives away to others in her cluster? I doubt it a bit, given she had some of these thoughts before trigger #2, but it could be possible ammo to that cocked checkov's gun.
 
18 Dating
No matter how long I stared at it, it just didn't get better. I tried tilting my head a bit and… no. That didn't help.

"So, what do you think?"

I raised my eyes from the page to look at Landon, the sharply dressed man that had greeted me on my arrival at the Department of Public Image offices within the bowels of the PRT. The hallway outside had been plastered with posters of the current Protectorate and Wards roster so they clearly had some successes under their belt. Looking at the sketch I had been presented with first, I kind of wondered how.

"It's… colorful?" I offered diplomatically.

"Yes, that's part of what we're going for here. Bright colors play well with children, and our messaging to kids is one of our most important missions. It helps them see the Wards program as a helping place if they should need it later," he said smoothly.

"For… children," I echoed as those facts tried to reconcile themselves with others. "Why does the rest of the outfit look like a stripper from Candyland, though?" For an outfit meant to appeal to children, there certainly was a lot of skin showing.

"That also tested well, though with a slightly different demographic."

"I'll bet… and the list here, those are names?" I skimmed over the words at the corner of the sketch. They were all in something suspiciously like Comic Sans, the font of the criminally insane. Rainbow was at the top and they just got worse from there. Sugar Plum? Really?

"Some proposals, yes. What parts of it do you like most?" he asked and leaned in.

I huffed. "Do you have other candidates? I'm not sure I like this one, at all."

Unfazed, he turned a page on the large sketchbook to another. This one was more reserved, with a light gray bodysuit under a gold chestplate that managed to obscure any obvious gender. The arms and legs were protected by golden gauntlets and boots with a helmet covering the figure's head, stopping at their nose in the front but completely hiding the hair in the back. 'Argonaut' had been written below it in stylized script along with a doodle that might have been intended as a logo.

"That's… better, I guess, but it feels painfully generic. I don't think it's very… me?" I said as I looked it over. I could probably live with it, but it really did feel like a concept they had been trying to foist off on someone for a while. Nothing about my powers or even the costume they were proposing seemed to fit the name, either. "It doesn't really fit my powers, but I like the coverage and the armor."

"You might think otherwise in the middle of the summer," Landon noted and then he pointed out some of the areas where it could be customized a bit to be more my style.

"So, is this one better? At least a 'maybe'?" he asked, smiling slightly. He really was handsome, though I wasn't particularly interested. Even if he hadn't been old enough to… well, no, given how young my father had been when I was born, that meant that Landon certainly wasn't old enough to be my father. He was still too old for me to be interested, even with my age-confused status.

I blew out another sigh. "A weak maybe. I don't like it, but it's better than the first one. Do you have anything else?"

"It's a tried and true design for a costume. We actually have quite a few heroes using color-swapped versions of this outfit and it lowers the overhead on merchandise. It also means it's easier to replace armor pieces if you break them or they simply wear out. We did have some more specific ideas for you, though. I suppose…" he flipped the page again.

This page held a figure with a shock of blond hair escaping from the back of a leather skullcap held in place by a pair of oversized goggles. It managed to conceal more of the face than I would have expected and the obvious wig would have made identifying me more difficult. The rest of the costume was reminiscent of a kind of lab coat with a heavy leather apron on top - which were off-white and black, respectively. The name Alchemist had been written on the bottom with a lightning bolt on the side.

"Who came up with this one? Aren't alchemists like a chemical thing? Wouldn't people be expecting some sort of Tinker?" I huffed, offended on behalf of my powers. The first one had been offensive, the second one had been painfully generic, and while this one had character, it was character in all the wrong ways. "I don't like this one at all."

"So you want-"

"No, I just really don't like this one. Do you have any more ideas?" I asked before he could try selling me on Argonaut again.

"Maybe a few. I honestly thought you'd go for Alchemist… but how about this?" he flipped past two sketches to another one. "Not originally designed for you, but it might work."

This one was a more feminine figure in a black bodysuit with dark blue armor panels that were more decorative than actual protective. There were heavy boots that came up to mid-thigh and the top went from bare shoulders to a flared skirt-like region at the waist. There were also long gloves that came up to just above the elbows which gave it a look of armor while also leaving it strangely exposed. Bare shoulders and thighs along with a cutout in the skirt made me wonder once more who was putting things together. The part that gave me pause was something else, though. The figure was posed up against a massive shield with cross-like protrusions it was holding in one hand.

The name 'Shielder' had been written in the corner along with a cross-shaped icon.

"Not the name, but I like parts of the outfit and… I think I might be able to make my power work with a shield…" The object was giving me ideas. So many ideas, in fact, that I almost forgot that they were stealing a member of New Wave's name which… actually, I'd met Eric when I was over at Amy's house one time and he didn't have powers, so the name wasn't his yet. I still didn't want to take it, but it was technically free for the taking. "I like the colors, but I'd like more coverage.." I shared some thoughts aloud as I started trying to puzzle out how I would modify the costume so that it worked better for me. "Can I think about it some more?"

Landon nodded, still smiling. "I'll set up an appointment for next Tuesday. If you have any ideas before then, send me an email."

oOoOoOoOo

"Where did you get that, anyway?" Rory asked. Helper that he was, he'd agreed to help me without even asking what I needed help with.

"I requisitioned it from the armory," I said as I hefted the riot shield. We were back in the Wards training area on Friday afternoon and I had some ideas. "It is something that came up during my consultation with Image and it got me thinking. They won't let us have a weapon without it being tied to our powers, but one of their concepts used a shield as a prop. I think I can do a lot with one but I won't know for sure until I try it out."

"A shield?" he asked. "I can see it fitting in with your powers. You are good at making shields, so playing off that…"

I nodded. "That's the thought. Plus, when I really started thinking about it, a lot of what I can do works better if I have an object to focus on. I can get by using thin air, but it's harder, conceptually."

One of the weaknesses of my power was that I either had to be looking directly at something or have a very good idea of where it was located to manipulate it. Acting on the air was always a little dicey since my power acted weird if there was a living being too close to what I was trying to do. A shield I was holding onto the handle of? That wouldn't be hard at all.

"Are you sure you want to carry it, though? Those things are heavy."

"That's the first test… I think I can…" with a flex of power, the shield started floating on its own. Turning down the effect of gravity on it was easy enough. Nudging it around with kinetic energy was also easy. "There we go."

"Well, at least your action figure will have a cool accessory," he joked and went to grab a bucket of tennis balls from the storage lockers. "Want to see if you can use it for blocking stuff?"

"Yeah, let's see if this is worth doing."

oOoOoOoOo

"I'm ready," I declared as I tromped into the entryway of our house where mom and Amy were waiting. I had on a nice, dark blue dress with some thick tights underneath and some shoes with a little heel to them. I couldn't exactly tell what Amy was wearing because of her heavy coat - it was freezing outside - but I could tell that she'd put on a little more makeup than normal and done something with her hair.

"I'll have her back before too late, Mrs. Clements," Amy told my mother with a smile that made my stomach do a little fluttery thing. She was acting very confident, and I liked that.

My mother just laughed. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do… and if you do half the things I would do, make sure they can't identify you while you're doing them."

Amy's smile might have been a little more brittle at that declaration - my mother had that effect on people - but she nodded anyway. "Shall we?" she asked and I grabbed my own coat and bundled up.

A few moments later, we were standing on our front stoop adjusting to the cold. Amy leaned in and gave me a hug. "Sorry, I just… you look very nice and I wanted to let you know."

I blushed from something other than the cold, but it came with a huge smile. "If you're really sorry, you could tell me where we're going and what we're celebrating," I teased. Amy's invitation to go out had been lacking in details, to say the least.

"I want it to be a surprise."

With a dramatic sigh, I took her hand. "Alright, surprise me."

She smiled at me and I was again reminded that I had no idea what I was doing. In general, but specifically in this relationship. We held hands to the bus stop and then huddled together on the ride to wherever I was being taken.

When people mention the 'Boardwalk' in the Bay, they're mostly talking about a half-mile long strip of land adjacent to the docks which had been turned into a tourist area when things were better. Even as things declined, the Boardwalk stayed 'better' than the surrounding area by virtue of the fact that they had the revenue streams to pay for better security. The Enforcers were little more than a gang, but they did keep the other gangs out of the area.

That wasn't the full extent of the waterfront in the Bay, however. Not even close.

Towards downtown, where the Bay - the actual body of water - was more shallow, there was a long stretch of beach that was popular in the summer with the occasional pier and over the years those areas had been used for a lot of things. During the winter, most of the beach stuff closed up, but some parts operated year-round.

"This is it?" I asked as I looked at the weathered facade of the seafood restaurant Amy had hauled me to. It looked like a nice place, but not so nice that there weren't families eating there.

"Yeah, it's… well, my family comes here on birthdays and to celebrate special stuff, sometimes. I thought it would be nice to bring you here to celebrate something," she said, looking suddenly very bashful.

I gave her a reassuring smile. "Yeah, that sounds nice. What's good here?"

Amy smiled back and we proceeded to have a nice dinner. I was a little worried about paying for it - the prices weren't crazy, but they were at least double what I would have spent normally - but Amy said she had it covered.

"So, what is the big surprise?" I asked after we finally finished eating. My crab cake had been delicious and the Boston cream pie after had been completely unnecessary - but also delicious. Afterwards, we walked out to the short pier that ran out from the restaurant and looked out over the water in the moonlight.

"Alright, so," she pulled out her phone and flipped to a picture of a document. "I'm not carrying it around, but I wanted to show you this."

"Limited license for parahuman healing?" I read aloud. Once the words registered, I looked up and gave her a big smile. "That's great. Congratulations!"

Then she leaned in and kissed me. It was clumsy and I could taste the lingering taste of chocolate on her lips. Noses were in the way and it wasn't entirely centered, but it was nice.

She pulled back suddenly, blushing. We hadn't really kissed before, and as far as first kisses went, it was pretty nice. It was my first kiss in this life, and I hadn't exactly had any from my other life that were worth remembering. "Sorry, I just… I wanted to…"

I took her hand in mine. "No, it's fine. It's good." I leaned in more cautiously and gave her a peck on the lips.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" she asked in a rush and I had to force myself not to laugh at how obviously nervous she was. We pretty much already were, but this would make it official.

"Yes, of course." If I was going to let Amy drive, then I'd let her drive. My mixed up feelings could just go along for the ride.
 
I wonder why Clockblocker doesn't have a shield, given that he can make it completely invulnerable by time-freezing it?
Because it's very impractical? He can't cancel his power, so the shield is essentially one-time, and at that point it's easier to just walk around with a stack of papers or something, which he does in canon IIRC, or use his power on his full-body suit (which would immobilize him as much as a shield, for MORE protection). He also has a rapid-deployement tent-thing post-timeskip.
 
Anyone else think Madison was getting Managed in that meeting with the costume team? 'Here are a couple obviously bad designs for you to reject, so that when we give you the one we always wanted you to pick, it looks really good in comparison.'
 
19 Called In
It only took a couple of days of working with it to decide that a shield was 'worth doing', as it were. Once I had the shield in the grip of my power, further manipulation on it was easy enough. Having shield effects appear to 'spread' out from it was simple and it would give me the same kind of misdirection that Gallant enjoyed by making it seem like I needed the shield as a focus.

It also gave me something handy to club people over the head with when I needed it. Or to throw at them, which I got very good at very quickly so long as the shield stayed within my range.

My second visit with Landon in Public Image went more smoothly with no more hideous rainbow outfits and more practical discussions. I had a feeling that I'd been subjected to some manipulative tactics during our first meeting. The bad outfits they had initially introduced had most likely been there to 'anchor' my expectations so that I had something to push back against. If I didn't know better than almost anyone how much teenagers could suck, I would have been insulted. As it was, a bit of manipulation to get me to do the right thing wasn't always necessarily a bad idea.

The main result from our second meeting was that I'd be getting a shield. The final design wasn't settled, but several preliminary versions had been mocked up for me to play with. Big, flashy accessories were very useful for a hero's image since they were distinctive and easy for the public to recognize. Even if the specifics of the design changed over time, being 'the one with the shield' was an easy way to stick out in people's minds.

The fact that shields, in spite of their offensive uses, were seen as entirely protective and defensive by the public definitely helped. It also helped that they were relatively inexpensive to make, even more so because anything used to make mine stand out from the relatively few heroes that used shields was purely cosmetic.

The costume itself had taken considerable more discussion to decide on the final version of. The original sketches showed something that looked almost like a one-piece swimsuit with some armored pieces tacked on in addition to gauntlets and boots that covered most of the arms and legs. It was kind of cute, but I didn't have the figure to pull it off, even with a copious amount of padding. Landon suggested that the exposed parts could actually be a flesh-colored undersuit, but I decided I would just feel too exposed.

Instead, with a flashy shield, I could afford to have a drab costume. What I ended up with was a bodysuit underneath a dark purple tunic with some lightly armored panels attached and some brighter purple highlights. The boots and gauntlets stayed, though they would only provide about the same level of protection as sports pads in order to keep the weight of the outfit manageable. On top of all of that was a visored helmet that left my mouth and chin exposed along with a short fringe of pink 'hair' that came from underneath the helmet to further add to the disguise.

There was a distinctly feminine cut to the suit which I liked, though its style was so far from my taste out of costume that there was little chance anyone would connect it back to me on that basis.

The original name they wanted was Shielder, which I was avoiding for other-future reasons. Eventually, we landed on Bulwark, which I liked well enough. I could get behind the concept of being a defensive fortification for the team, even if it sounded a bit presumptuous. Then again, it had taken Clockblocker a full minute to find a way to make a joke out of it, and even then he'd only been able to come up with 'butt walk' which was pretty lame. I considered that a plus.

Taylor's own visits went well enough and she ended up being called Anima. Her costume was kind of a 'fantasy rogue' aesthetic with a lot of dark reds and leather and a hood/mask combination that concealed most of her face and hair. It was an outfit that didn't hint at her powers, which was probably a good thing.

By the middle of January, we were almost done with our basic 'media training' and ready to be presented to the public as new Wards. Given that our body doubles at Arcadia had been put into place at the same time, taking further steps to separate us as new capes was deemed unnecessary and a date was set. As far as an outsider would know, we could have joined at any time in the previous semester and had just been waiting for the semester to change before being announced.

"Poor baby," Amy cooed with only a hint of sarcasm as she rubbed my feet. "All of that prancing around on stage has to be rough."

I groaned in pleasure as she rubbed at where I was hurting. My new boots had a bit of a heel to them to further disguise my height and learning to move fluidly them was taking longer than I'd hoped. Plus, I just liked being touched - even if she could probably fix all of my aches and pains in a second with her power. "It's totally unfair that your team just lets you not do stuff like that."

"There had better be some sort of benefit from having to grow up in a family of open capes," she grumbled. It wasn't a topic she talked about very often.

"Was it that bad?" I asked gently.

There was a bit of a pause, though she kept rubbing. "Mostly no," she answered after a while. "I mean, aside from Carol's Carol-ness, anyway. There were some bad bits like after Aunt Jess died, though."

"Ah," I answered noncommittally. "That was the Empire thing, right?"

"Yeah," she said softly. "Guy was charged as a minor and he's already out. The Empire said some stuff when he got arrested, but from what I heard, he's a member now. They obviously weren't too upset about it, so don't believe any of that shit they spout about unwritten rules. They only care about them when they're the ones benefiting."

For the life of me, I thought that guy got killed by Kaiser, but Amy would obviously know better than me. "Wow, that sucks," I said softly and pulled her into a hug. Giving up my foot rub to cuddle my girlfriend was a small price to pay.

"Yeah, it's one reason why Vicky takes secret identities so seriously. Me, too. I kind of wish I had one, but that was never really an option." I hugged her harder at the admission because it felt like something she had been holding in for a while.

"There have to be some upsides," I tried. "Like, it has to be easier for you to do the healing thing if you are using a legal identity."

After a moment, Amy nodded hesitantly. "Yeah, I guess. It's… Well, I kind of wish I was a Ward, sometimes."

I made a face. "There's some good stuff about it, but the paperwork… so much paperwork… and it's kind of boring. It's like an after school club in all of the bad ways."

Amy snorted. "I guess. I guess the grass is always greener on the other side."

"That is what they say," I agreed. Then I decided to change the subject. "Want to make out a little?"

"Definitely."

oOoOoOoOo

The final design for the shield was eventually settled. The Image team's main concerns were that it was distinctive and that it didn't end up looking too much like a riot shield, since that would give the wrong message. What I wanted was something big enough that I could use it as a surface to stand - and fly - on. Flying on a platform of air was not easy and a solid platform was much better.

Unlike with my bodysuit, the weight of the shield was a non-issue. Adjusting it to have no weight was an easy use of my powers and with practice I could do it without even looking at it first. The final design was a big oval with panels of what I thought were clear plexiglass with a grid pattern and some LEDs that made it look purple in most lighting. It was something I could change later if I got sick of it but I liked purple.

Our actual introduction press conference was… fine? Afterward, I only really remembered a few things about it. First, I remembered hiding backstage with Taylor as we waited for our cue. She made a really bad joke - the contents of which I couldn't remember - and I laughed just before we were called out on stage. Then there were a bunch of flashes from the photographers and I remember stumbling through a prepared speech and answering some softball questions. Then it was over, just like that.

The nerves leading up to it followed by hours and hours of preparation meant that it went off without a hitch, which was definitely a good thing. Arcadia was a pretty intense school and I was finding myself with a lot more homework than I expected. Having to deal with another punishment detail on top of my regular Wards training and the homework would have been overwhelming. I needed that time for better things, like spending it with my girlfriend.

Properly introduced to the public, it was inevitable that we would end up having our first official outing as members of the wards before long. It happened shortly before the end of January and it was about what I expected, but not in a good way.

"Are patrols always this…" I struggled to find a word to sum up what I was feeling as we finished our walk through the tourist section of the Boardwalk. It was almost four and the sun was still up, though it was getting really cold.

"Cold? Boring? Deserted?" Triumph asked with some amusement. "This time of year, yes. If it were the middle of the summer, we would be getting stopped every few steps for a photograph or an autograph. Once they have your promotional shots ready, they'll give you a stack to carry for trips like this, though they usually encourage you to do the autographs on the spot instead of beforehand."

"It seems kind of… I don't know, shallow?" I said as I finally put my finger on what was bugging me. Admittedly, the bad weather was probably a lot of the problem, though it was easy enough for me to keep the air around me at a comfortable temperature.

"Ah, yeah. Being a Ward isn't very exciting most of the time," Triumph agreed. "But that's part of the reason we exist as an organization. There are plenty of capes that have excitement all the time - they're in the gangs or they're out beating people in up dark alleyways. We're supposed to be the alternative to that."

"I guess, but it just seems so boring." I didn't whine. I really didn't.

Triumph laughed at that and we finished the rest of our patrol not long afterwards. There were no convenient muggings inexplicably close to where the Wards - and not to mention the Enforcers - patrolled, nor did a random villain decide to stage a daring daylight robbery of one of the small shops along the shopping district. I would even have settled for a fire - preferably a small one that didn't destroy anyone's stuff - to spice things up, but no luck.

Instead, what I got was a boring, uneventful patrol just like Dennis and Missy had lamented about many times.

It was kind of a letdown, though I supposed that it was better than doing something stupid like fighting Lung on my first time out.

oOoOoOoOo

Waking up around a week later at one am to my PRT phone buzzing was less of a letdown. I groggily got it to my ear. "'Lo?" I managed.

"Bulwark, you're being called in. I have a van enroute to your location with a backup costume. Be outside in eight minutes. The trooper on board will have more details for you."

The adrenaline that came after that woke me up in a hurry. I managed to acknowledge what I'd been told and end the call before fumbling for some clothes to throw over on top of my pajamas. I didn't have time for anything else and my costume would go on top in any case. By the time I'd stumbled down the stairs and sent off a quick confirmation text to Agent Lawson - who may or may not have been the person that called me, it was hard to tell in my half-asleep state - there was a white van idling out front.

The door slid open and I confirmed that there were actual troopers inside before hopping in, myself. A small part of me paranoidly suggested I was being kidnapped, but someone that knew enough to stage everything up to this point would have been able to snatch me even if I resisted. That was the point of contacting my handler directly, though.

In any case, there was a suitcase with my costume inside on one of the seats, and the trooper in the back helpfully turned around so that I could change. It was more difficult than I expected in a moving van, but I got everything on in short order. My shield was included with the rest, which was nice.

"Some time after eleven o'clock last night, the vigilante Shadow Stalker assaulted a man in an alleyway between sixth and elm," the trooper recited to me while I got dressed. "The first we heard about it was near midnight when the paramedics arrived at the hospital with him. The victim regained consciousness enough to identify his attacker but is currently in critical condition with life threatening injuries. Since then, Armsmaster has made the call that we are bringing Shadow Stalker in, and he's asked for you to support that effort."

My mouth went dry. Sophia had finally fucked up enough that they were going to arrest her and for some reason they were asking me along. "Armsmaster will have further orders once we get to the staging area."

The rest of the ride, I had to fight down a rising sense of nausea. I was about to get into my first real cape fight and while I was - at least in theory - only supporting a joint Protectorate and PRT effort, it could still be dangerous. I kind of regretted wishing for more excitement back on boring Boardwalk patrol.

We were almost there before I remembered that I hadn't told my parents I was leaving and sent off a couple of apologetic texts.
 
The boots and gauntlets stayed, though they would only provide about the same level of protection as sports pads in order to keep the weight of the outfit manageable.
Isn't weight one of the things she finds very easy to manipulate? And it's not like she'd have trouble with the "has to know where it is" part because it's on her body.
 
I wish we actually got the press conference proper, but I suppose it's just filler at the end of the day.

The Sophia situation... I guess it's bound to happen. I'm guessing Mads is the one who got called in 'cause she might be able to handle her Breaker state?
 
Sympathetic MC with limited future knowledge. It's good so far, ripples from changes have me curious about the future.
 
20 Sideways
My previous interactions with Armsmaster had been brief, which hadn't really bothered me much. I got the impression that as the leader of the Protectorate ENE and a Tinker, he was incredibly busy. When I had talked to him, he was friendly and polite, but he had the air of someone that considered their time to be valuable and tried to make things as efficient for everyone as possible.

Tonight was no different as I found myself standing beside an equally groggy Taylor - Anima in costume- while he went over the situation. "The advance team will be approaching the suspect's apartment here. It is on the third floor." He tapped one blue gauntleted finger against the blueprint someone had taped to the side of one of the PRT vans.

"Anima, do you still have access to your healing power for today?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Taylor answered quickly.

"Good. That's why I wanted you along for this. Some of the injuries left by Shadow Stalker's crossbow bolts have been strange. I suspect she is able to make her weapons at least partially insubstantial until they are inside a target, which will bypass body armor. Given the types of bolts she has been using, taking one to the wrong spot could easily be fatal and your healing might be someone's only hope of survival." He tapped a couple of marked spots on the map. "I'm putting the two of you with the group that's stationed by the back door of the building, here. Bulwark, you're here to watch Anima's back and nothing more."

"Yes, sir," I echoed. It sounded like a lot of effort just to be a bodyguard, but I didn't like the idea of Taylor going this alone so I wasn't going to complain.

"Anima, please do not activate your healing power until ordered to do so. You might need a mobility power to reach your patient in a hurry. I'll have an officer provide you with radios as I understand that you don't have your final helmets yet. You'll be under the temporary command of Trooper Hoskins for the duration of this operation, but any member of the Protectorate team may give you orders as the situation requires. Any questions?"

We didn't have any - well, not any that we wanted to ask, at least - and were soon assigned to a five man squad of troopers. A pair of them wore the bulky containment foam sprayer backpacks that were pretty common within the PRT, but they also had handguns. The other three were holding submachine guns.

"Anima, Bulwark," the one that appeared to be in charge greeted us as we joined them. "Nice night for a stroll, isn't it?"

Taylor snickered politely - or perhaps she was sleepy enough to think it actually was funny - but I was more concerned about how cold it was. I had experimented with climate control bubbles during previous patrols, but I wasn't confident enough to extend them to other people yet. If Taylor was going to be cold, it seemed unfair for me not to suffer with her. I was far more confident in a smaller effect - kind of like a power-produced space heater - which I created instead. It helped a lot and it only took Taylor a second to realize what I had done as she invaded my personal space to share in the heat.

"We move in five," the man I presumed to be Trooper Hoskins declared. PRT trooper armor only had numbers on it, not names. Presumably, it was to protect them from retaliation from villains. Given how paranoid I had become about my own identity, I understood, but that didn't make it any less confusing. "Alright, let's go."

As we walked, I listened to the radio chatter through an earbud. Presumably, when I got my 'real' helmet, it would have the radio functions built in, but making do with a wearable unit was alright. I had been through a class on how to use them at one point, so it wasn't that alien to me.

"Nervous?" Taylor asked quietly, startling me slightly.

"A little," I admitted. How could I not be? Sophia had thought nothing of framing Taylor for a crime - and probably would have tried the same on me if given half a chance - and that was before she was cornered like a rat. I had a bad feeling that Armsmaster's plan was good, but maybe not good enough to account for the level of crazy that we were dealing with.

The alleyway we ended up in did not smell nice. It was sandwiched between two five story apartment buildings of weathered brick. Quite a few fire escapes littered the sides and there were clothes lines that criss crossed between them at various points. No laundry was hanging there now, due to the weather, but during the summer it probably would have been pretty colorful. It would probably also have smelled even worse.

In the dark, it seemed riddled with places that a villain could be hiding, waiting to murder us with a crossbow.

One of the troopers tried the back door and found it opened to his touch. I couldn't see his mouth through the mirrored PRT faceplate, but I heard his voice on the comms. "Back door secure. It was not locked."

Other voices confirmed and over the next few minutes the advance team climbed to the second story while two more squads like ours took up positions on the streets to the front and side of the building where Shadow Stalker's apartment was. In the back, we should have been far removed from her likely escape routes, but I couldn't help but be on edge. Things had just been going too well lately for fate to not throw us a twist.

"Breaching in ten," I heard and took a deep breath as I waited. A long, slow ten count later and there was a distant banging noise. Seconds later, there was the sound of something exploding - barely more than a firecracker from this distance - followed by muffled yelling.

For a heartbeat, the radio was silent then two voices talked over each other. I heard something about the roof. Looking up, I could just make out a figure jumping over the gap between the two buildings. I wasn't alone, either, because I heard Trooper Hoskins voice declare, "She's jumped to the other building. Suspect is headed south."

I turned to the side just in time to see Taylor - Anima - lift off the ground. "Anima in pursuit," she declared over the radio and was off the ground before anyone could stop her.

I cursed - real cursing, not fake cursing - and took off after my friend that was rising straight up at a high rate of speed. Given my surprise, I had to resort to the equivalent of launching myself skyward like a slingshot in order to keep up.

As I rose, I heard several voices telling us to stand down, but Anima was chasing after Shadow Stalker like a hound after a rabbit. If she was going to get in trouble, I might as well be there with her.

I cleared the top of the building and got my flight under control to see that both the shadowy figure - presumably Shadow Stalker - and Anima had already covered half of the building in front of me. I poured on the speed to get closer, but two things happened in rapid succession.

First, the shadow twisted in midair. Second, something dark shot out from the shadow, headed right for Anima. It was just barely inside my range when it struck Taylor high on her leg. I didn't have a shield that could have stopped it in time, though with the crazy waves of energy surrounding it, there wasn't much chance one of my normal barriers would have worked, anyway.

Fortunately, the crossbow arrow… projectile? Bolt? Whatever the thing was called, it just bounced off Anima and I had a momentary burst of relief that she'd picked Glory Girl's power with its forcefield and not one of the other fliers she had on her list.

"Freeze, PRT!" I declared as I powered forward to get at least Anima into my range so I could protect her better. That part was relatively easy because after taking a hit, Anima was keeping back and being more cautious. Shadow Stalker lept away, turning to shadow which let her almost fly on her own. Anima went to pursue her, but she didn't manage to move before I grabbed her shoulder and threw up a sound barrier around the two of us.

"We aren't supposed to be trying to take her in," I half yelled at her. My mind was racing with how to best mitigate the damage and I came up with a plan. "I'm going to make us invisible and silent. You fly faster than me, so I'm going to ride on your back and you're going to follow her. We can call in her location while she tries to run away."

Anima looked like she wanted to protest, but my tone really must have put her off that because she nodded.

I threw myself onto her back and started fiddling with the barrier I had raised around us. Going invisible was something I had worked on a few times and while it was normally pretty complicated, it was much easier to do if we were going to be flying since any distortions were much, much harder to notice against an empty sky. The initial complication of it - not being able to see any of the light I was bending away from us - was solved by warping infrared light into the visible spectrum once it reached the inside of our bubble. It wasn't the greatest for detail or cold objects, but picking out large objects and people was easy enough.

Anima took off now that things were adjusted and we hovered about six stories up as we followed Shadow Stalker's mad flight. For someone that technically couldn't fly, our quarry had figured out how to move very quickly with long, impossible jumps while in her shadow state. There was some limit on that, however, because she kept becoming solid in between jumps - it might have been a limit of her power or being insubstantial meant she couldn't breathe or something. However it worked, she couldn't remain a shadow for more than a certain amount of time at one go which was useful information to know.

It didn't help her escape attempt that the infrared being put off by her body actually got a little brighter when she went into her shadow state, making her stand out to my adjusted vision.

I hit the button on the radio which was still full of chatter, some of which demanded that we respond. "Anima and Bulwark are following the suspect from above. We will not engage. Suspect is turning east toward Lord street along Wagner, still on rooftops."

After a few seconds, there was a clear response from Armsmaster. "Bulwark, continue surveillance. Do not, I repeat, do not engage."

Between the tone he used and the facts of our situation, I had a feeling that we were going to be in for some serious additional training after this. If Taylor had picked a different power and now had a crossbow bolt stuck through her leg, I could only imagine that it would have been much, much worse.

"Acknowledged." On the other hand, something good had come from that brief encounter. I decided it was better to tell the boss. "Armsmaster, I believe I can stop her from phasing through objects if they are within my range."

"Acknowledged," was the only response.

We continued to follow Sophia across the rooftops for a while. She tried doubling back a couple of times or ducking literally through buildings, but the combination of our invisibility, height, and the fact that the cold streets were deserted made it nearly impossible for her to hide from us.

"I'm sorry," Taylor said after a while. Riding on her back as I was, I couldn't see her face, but she seemed tense. "She was running and I just reacted."

"I'm sorry, too. It's… well, it's not fair for them to bring us along on this and not expect us to get in the middle of this. Sophia tried to get you in serious trouble and you have a lot of reasons to be mad at her." I tried being comforting, but our positions didn't allow for much of that. "I'm sure there will be yelling later, but the job isn't screwed up yet. If we salvage a win, that has to count for something, right?"

"Yeah, it does," Taylor agreed and we spent the rest of our pursuit in silence except for the frequent updates I radioed in.

We crossed Lord street and headed into the really bad sections of the docks. Eventually, we were in the older section of the docks where the actual docks were. After the collapse of shipping - and the formation of the Boat Graveyard - the fishing industry had also collapsed along with the shippers, leaving dozens of warehouses and canneries vacant and empty. Finding a place for a hideout in this part of town would have been trivial, if you weren't picky about the amenities.

The first warehouse we watched her duck into was actually an attempt to throw off any last pursuers. I called it in and after about five minutes, we caught sight of her sneaking out the side to a second warehouse nearby. If it weren't for the infrared frequencies I was using to watch her, we never would have seen her move.

"Armsmaster, I believe she's settled in the old Paxton Fish cannery. Permission to approach for further reconnaissance." I knew Anima wanted to go, but we were already in a huge pile of trouble. Jumping in without permission was just going to make it worse, though I really wanted to. I was tired of clinging to Taylor - Anima's back and watching Sophia make an idiot out of herself.

"Permission denied. Suspect is armed and dangerous and we're adding more attempted murder charges to her list. Anima, you're going to be needed to patch up a couple of the people in the advance team after this is done."

I could feel Anima stiffen under me and I was pretty sure she'd realized that her actual job tonight had been to do just that and she wasn't because she'd run off against orders.

It was Anima's turn to fumble with her radio. "Is anyone hurt bad?" she asked.

"No, fortunately. There are two troopers that would be out of action for months without your help, but no one is in danger of dying."

She relaxed a little and I gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder. More minutes passed and I levitated the shield off my back and sat down on it in mid-air. I needed to stay close to Anima so that the barrier held, but there was no reason for her to carry me anymore.

"We are at the initial staging location. We are approaching the rest of the way on foot. ETA five minutes. Bulwark and Anima, can you help pick out locations for the snipers?"

I took a deep breath. It didn't sound like they were going to let Sophia get away a second time.
 

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