I Wanna Have A Good Time (Worm SI)
Chapter 1
April 7, 2011
I saw them closing in on her, like sharks to a bleeding swimmer. It wasn't the first time it had happened, but it was the first time I was in a position to do anything about it. And to be honest, it had taken me a long time to muster the will.
"And so, it begins," I muttered, steeling myself for social activity. Though, combat would probably be a better descriptor.
My book snapped shut and was zipped into my pack. My steps were quiet as I approached, but one of the lackies nudged the ringleader and pointed me out. The extras tried to circle the wagons, keep me out. Like it mattered.
A strange scene, it was. Eight girls, seven of them surrounding the one hunched in on herself with her back to a locker, preventing her from leaving. Three of them, one in particular, saying such awful things. My stomach churned a little, knowing the gist of what was being said. Me, now standing just outside the little huddle. An outsider with a black hoodie and a raggedy backpack, poking his nose where it wasn't wanted. But it was needed.
"Could you not?" I drawled.
The hangers-on attempted to get me to buzz off with petty insults. I ignored them. They didn't matter. They were nothing. No matter how much they liked to believe otherwise. I just stood there, eyes on the trio and the girl they had hemmed in, the girl who could stand so tall being brought ever lower by the sad thing that used to be her best friend. Due to my continued lack of buzzing off, Sophia Hess finally deigned to toss a glance my way. "Get lost, creep."
"Nope." Light. Cheery. Almost peppy.
That got a reaction out of her. This was new, a challenge to her perceived superiority. She butted her way out of the little circle. "The fuck did you say to me?'"
"Said, 'Nope,' Hess. I'd like you to stop." I paused, then added, "Please."
Just a few words, and I was already feeling tired. If I haven't made it perfectly clear by now, social activity wasn't exactly my strong suit, especially not heavy stuff like this. I'd much rather stick to cracking jokes and people-watching from the back of the room.
She got up in my face at that. I very carefully did not back down from the girl a good foot shorter than me.
"Or what?" she demands, jabbing a finger into my chest. Or what, indeed.
"Nothin'. It'd just make me happy if all o' ya went away and did somethin' else. Yer upsettin' me." If there was one thing above all others that people recognized about me, it was that I was always smiling. The one I was wearing now was my chill, lackadaisical one. My tone was jovial. Everything about my behavior screamed, in a word, 'carefree'. Good.
I honestly wanted to know if she would try to pull something here.
I'd always been tall, even as a high-schooler. And now, due to a bored god having nothing better to do, I found myself several years younger, reincarnated in a universe I'd known as fiction, as a student in quite literally one of the shittiest insults to institutions of education ever thought of. Winslow High sucked major monkey-nuts, in no small part due to the lovely example of how not the be a human being right in front of me.
My hands were tucked into my hoodie's front pocket. No tensed shoulders, no signs of hostility. Sophia was most likely better at hand-to-hand than me, but there was a sliding scale of skill vs. power, and I was willing to bet that my power edged out on her skill...and my Power definitely trumped hers as well. She was just an average-sized teenage girl, albeit an athletic one. I had more size, muscle mass, and a tad bit of basic experience to boot. I would not be the one to throw the first punch, all the same.
She scoffed, her gaze turning (dare I say it?) predatory at the defiance. I'd almost forgotten how much I hated teenagers, the mouth-noises they made. I hated these particular teenagers in particular.
No, that wasn't quite right. I pitied them. I knew that there were reasons for them being so fucked up. I didn't know the exact details of their pasts, only a summary of one. It didn't really matter. They were still horrible people, and I wasn't feeling too saint-like at the moment (and hopefully never, come to think of it.).
"I'm gonna ask you one more time, asshole. Get lost." She tried to shove me. My hand shot up to catch her wrist. The sheer shock that someone, me in particular, the quiet, sometimes snarky guy with his face always buried in a book, who never raised no trouble with nobody, would dare raise a hand against her, her, Sophia Hess, alpha bitch-queen of Winslow High, and probationary Ward, of all people, must have stunned her for a few precious milliseconds.
Before she could start fighting or, heaven forbid, screaming, I let go.
"Please don't touch me," I asked simply. "I don't like being touched by mean people."
Sophia didn't know how to react to this. To be fair, I didn't either. If I were a bully, and a motherfucker like me showed up and started being weird, spoiling my sport, how would I react? I hadn't the slightest clue.
I took my eyes off of Hess to make eye contact with the most important person in the hall. Taylor Hebert. Skitter. Weaver. Khepri. Goddess of Escalation. Bug Girl.
What I saw didn't quite fit any of those epithets. I saw a lonely teenage girl, with a lot more bad in her life than good, mostly due to these animals. Her mom died, her dad was only half there, her best friend turned into her biggest tormentor… And that wasn't even getting into the laundry list of shit that would come pouring from on high on the parahuman side of things.
…God damn it, Wildbow, did you really have to try that hard to screw with her?
I wanted to help, if I could, even though I knew so many things could go wrong. By interjecting myself into the story, the Simurgh's plot was derailed, and Zion would go crazy and kill everyone everywhere in two years. And if Taylor's life wasn't so shitty, the extremely unlikely series of events that would lead to Khepri stopping Golden Morning would most likely not come to pass.
Something told me I'd have my work cut out for me.
Eh, I'd just have to wing it. Just like everything else I'd ever done. Time to release some butterflies. Fly, my pretties, fly!
…This was an oddly long train of thought, wasn't it? Eh.
I gave Taylor a nod, a slight hint at my usual grin forming for the first time, and said, "Come along, miss. I'm getting the feeling we're not wanted, for some odd reason."
She had no reason to trust me. She'd probably been burned by this kind of thing before, the helping hand hiding the poisoned dagger supplied by her tormentors. But when offered the choice of sticking around for more abuse, and accepting aid from a stranger, she took a chance, and escaped through the gap left by Sophia.
Aside from an aborted attempt at a grab or two, the other girls watched her go, some of them looking confused at what just happened. Stopping at a corner, Taylor looked back at me, expression unreadable. I tossed a wink back in her direction, and she hurried off. Then I sighed and faced the now quite upset gaggle of bullies. I felt happy now. I did a good thing. Now to troll a bitch, kick over a few anthills, make my life interesting, and gtfo.
"Heh heh heh." I grinned toothily, dropping the creepy emotionless act. Emma Barnes seemed like she was about to say something, possibly threatening, but I cut her off by turning to Sophia. This one was for her in particular. Conflict, hooo!
I spread my jazz hands and shrugged, before saying in a jovial tone, "Welp, like I said, I can tell when I'm not wanted. Sorry for casting a shadow on your little hate-boner wank-fest. I'll get going now. No one likes a stalker, after all."
I even winked for emphasis, the visible eye suddenly glowing a vibrant shade of electric blue. The dawning look of horror and outrage on the Ward's face was exquisite. Then, in full view of the teenage girls, the E88 skinheads down the hall, the ABB initiates across from them, and generally all and sundry, I took a step back…
…and ended up right behind Taylor, two hallways away. I waited three seconds as I listened to the sudden uproar I'd left behind. Eh, always wanted to do that. Not like I cared much for a secret identity anyway.
Taylor had stopped, turning around to go see what the hubbub was about, only to see me there, casually leaning against a locker, waving lazily.
"You're welcome!"
Seeing her squeak and jump into the air a bit was funny, I'll admit it, shame on me again.
Step one of making Taylor Hebert's life not suck?
…It's a work in progress.
XXXXX
AN: So, uh, the muse decided to halp again. I let it. Shame on me.
Kinda rough, but that's what you guys are for, eh? What do you think?
Challenge: Figure out the crossover power. I'll give you another hint: the SI works at a hot dog stand in his free time.
*still has no idea what he's doing*