Safe For Work Worm Ideas thread

Did you mean Chevalier? Myrridin doesn't have anything to do with checking if someone's got powers.

 

Does anyone remember somebody having lightning powers in Worm? Because Revolver doing his whole 'deflecting lightning with revolver bullets' thing would be bound to get some attention.

However, I think next up is going to be a bit where young Psycho Mantis ends up imprinting on Dinah while she's in Coil's custody.

 

I just remember that Myriddin could do that. Forgot about Chevalier.

 

So, before I actually get to writing it...can anyone think of a reason why Psycho Mantis would not be able to shred through Coil's compound? It's been a long time since I read Worm, and I don't want to miss something obvious.

 

He's linked to Noelle's mental state. And Coil is stringing her along. So as long as he can honestly say he's looking for a cure he'll stay calm. Of course he needs to start actually looking for a cure because Mantis can read his thoughts.

 

That would actually be interesting, and now I'm torn between this and the original idea of him imprinting on Dinah's fear, loneliness, and desire for freedom.

If he did link to Noelle, he'd be able to see that Coil had been stringing her along from the start, too, which could get messy.

 

If a particular result seems inevitable, don't bother trying to overwrite it with the opposite. Just let it happen and focus on the consequences instead.

 

Huh. Never knew about that. Everyone focuses on just his pocket-dimension 'magic'.

 

He could do a lot of stuff.

 

Venom didn't run his mercenary organization alone. Kaz handled business, contracts, and the minutia, and the enigmatic Ocelot was his interrogation specialist, mission advisor, and personnel manager. Ocelot was a good man, and Venom would be dead a dozen times over if it wasn't for him. However, he liked to be...secretive. As far as Venom knew, nobody even knew Ocelot's real name. He'd been a major in the Russian special forces during the Cold War, but had constantly been shifting his appearance since then...likely to avoid being tracked down.

Right now, he spoke with the accent of the American south and dressed like a cowboy in a brown leather duster and red bandanna, his sandy blonde hair hanging down to his lapels. He even had riding boots with spurs, and a pair of Colt Single-Action Army revolvers on holsters at his hips.

Some of the men had a hard time taking him seriously. That never lasted long. Ocelot could outsmart, outfight, and outshoot essentially anybody except Venom or Quiet, and even then it might be a close thing. He was a trusted advisor on Mother Base, and one of the view that Venom thought of as something close to a friend.

However, his most recent suggestion had been too outrageous to listen to, even from him.

"I am not taking a vacation." Venom's voice was always gravelly, but this was almost a growl. He moved to walk past Ocelot, only for the other man to step in front of him, hands raised.

"Boss, last time you took a break was three years ago, and that was because of the coma. Even you can't keep up this sort of pace forever. Constant missions and patrols will wear you down eventually."

"I sleep and eat between them. That's enough."

Ocelot winced. "Boss, most men would be dead by now. You might be different, but we can't have our big man flaking out on us when we really need him. The Diamond Dogs can stand on our own two feet now. We won't collapse without you."

Venom tapped his iDroid, bringing up the mission menu. "Right now, we've got two more warlords to take out, a dozen guard jobs, three VIPs missing in conflict zones, and a hundred other targets of opportunity."

"You've got five hundred elite soldiers working for you, Boss. They can handle it!"

"The answer is no, Ocelot."

The cowboy didn't seem disappointed, or surprised. He just shrugged. "Well, thought you might see things that way. But would it help if I mentioned that this vacation could cure Quiet?"

Venom's expression didn't outwardly change, but if someone was very observant, they might have been able to pick out the way his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "I'm listening."

"There's a city on America's east coast, a bit north of Boston, by the name of Brockton Bay. There's a healer there, teenaged girl named Amy Dallon, with the, ah, 'superhero name' Panacea. Apparently, she has the ability to manipulate biological tissue at will. Cancer and sickness cured in the blink of an eye, arms and legs regrown in seconds, that sort of thing. It's not just Quiet, we've all got some dormant parasite in us, and Panacea might be able to nix this thing for good."

Venom had already changed direction, moving back towards the helipad. "I want to talk to her. Can you arrange a meeting?"

"She's still a minor, so you'll need to go through her mom first. Cell number is already uploaded to your iDroid. Also, I've rented out a helipad at the local airport, and dealt with all the paperwork. Have fun on your little excursion, Boss. Oh, and Quiet, your new outfit is done. Loaded it up on the chopper already."

Quiet faded into visibility from where she'd been tailing the duo, muscle unnervingly becoming visible a split second before the skin and clothing did. She shot Ocelot an irritated glance, then stalked off to the helipad ahead of them.

Venom watched her go, then just shook his head. "Nothing gets past you, does it?"

"Heh. If it does, you'll be the first to know." Ocelot clapped his hand down on Venom's shoulder. "See you later, Boss. Come back with good news."

-----

In a concrete cell underground, Dinah sniffled. She didn't cry much, not now, but when the nightmares got too bad she couldn't help herself. The mosaic of possible futures continued to flicker through her head, shifting and changing as a million different factors affected them beyond her sight. Her head was already starting to hurt, the last dose of her 'candy' having been before Coil's latest questioning session.

She just wanted to go home. She just wanted to go home...

The mosiac in her head lurched sickeningly, the numbers shifting rapidly, new timelines being created and discarded at blinding speed. Oddly, it didn't hurt, as they flickered by too fast for her to even get a look at what might happen.

A figure drifted down through the ceiling of her cell. It was something out of a nightmare, shaggy red hair framing a gas mask with bug-like tinted lenses for eyes, a leather straight-jacket with the sleeves slashed free hanging down to the figure's knees. They were so long, they hung down over the person's hands, giving them an oddly childish look to contrast with the rest of the horror.

At this point, Dinah wasn't sure was would happen. The possible timelines were filled with fire and blood, and many of them ended very, very quickly. She whimpered, and looked plaintively at the apparition that had floated through the concrete. "Please...help me. I just want to leave."

It tilted its head. And then a gesture from one of its covered hands sent the steel door of her cell flying, crumpled up like a ball of aluminum foil. Alarms started to blare, the shouting of nearby guards echoed through the halls, as did footsteps as they charged into the room.

They opened fire at the figure, and it flickered to the side. It turned to face the soldiers, and lifted its arms.

Blood painted the walls.

 

More actual Worm content this time.

-----

Venom and Quiet stepped up into the waiting helicopter. It had been a while since Quiet had needed to sneak aboard, thankfully. Once she'd proven her loyalties beyond any doubt, he'd allowed her free access to the rest of the base. After enough time to get used to her, most of the soldiers got accustomed to some of her more...unusual aspects.

Venom took his usual seat, but Quiet found a package in hers. A dark shirt and pair of pants, tied in a bundle with a note on top. Quiet glanced over it, then handed the note to Venom for him to read.

The gist of it was that the outfit was made out of a specially designed elastic material that would absorb oxygen through the surface and emit it on the underside. It would interfere with her natural photosynthesis, but not enough to really matter. It would also soak up water and trap it in the underlayer, letting it be outwardly dry while also hydrating her. Plus, it was slightly tougher than Kevlar. Quiet's skin could already take bullets without too much damage, but a bit of extra armor never hurt.

Venom grunted crumpled the note up. Seemed useful, especially if he was going to be bringing Quiet into a city. Her usual bikini with leggings might get them both arrested for public indecency.

Without a hint of modesty, Quiet stripped out of her clothes. It didn't take her long, after shrugging off the straps that she used to holster her rifle and hold extra ammo, she just reached behind her to unclasp her top, before sliding her leggings and thong down in a single bundle. Venom didn't openly express his admiration for her form, but he certainly gave his brunette companion an appreciative eye. From the quick smirk he caught on her face, it seemed like she was enjoying herself as much as he was.

She might have lingered a second or two longer than she really needed to, including a movement while getting the pants on that gave Venom a not strictly necessary show, but soon enough Quiet was fully clothed once again.

Her new outfit covered more than her old one, but it was by no means modest. Both of the garments were skintight, though padded enough in the right places to avoid giving a detailed impression of what was underneath them. The shirt ended just above her navel, and the sleeves came down to her elbows. The pants looked more like they were intended for use in gymnastics instead of combat, hugging tightly to Quiet's thighs and calves and ending at her ankle.

Quiet moved to put her combat gear back on over it, but Venom shook his head. "We're going into a city, not a combat zone. No guns." She frowned more a moment, then nodded, and stowed the gear under her seat...but she also slipped her combat knife into her boot. Venom didn't blame her, he had one in his pocket already.

For his part, Venom had put on a set of standard fatigues, with the protective pads, extra pouches, holsters, and bulletproof inserts removed. There wasn't much that could cover up the shrapnel sticking out of his forehead, so he hadn't bothered even trying to disguise himself, leaving his eyepatch and prosthetic arm on full display.

With appearances taken care of, he opened up the holographic display on his iDroid and tapped into the cellular network, calling the number that Ocelot had given him. It picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?" It was a woman who answered, her tone very businesslike. "Who am I speaking to?"

"Carol Dallon?"

"This is she. Who are you?"

"I go by Venom Snake. I'm the leader of a private military group that operates mostly in Africa, the Diamond Dogs. I need to meet with Panacea."

There was a moment as she processed that information, and when Mrs. Dallon responded it was, if anything, even more businesslike than before. "Panacea's services are not for sale. If you need her, come into Brockton General, and you will be attended according to your need."

"This isn't something I'd trust to hospital. It isn't a wound, it's an infection without a cure. Lethal. ...Exotic. We've kept it dormant for two years, but there's no telling how long it will stay that way. We can pay. Fifty million U.S. dollars, or the same value in euros or raw diamonds."

Dallon was silent for a while before responding. "The New Wave does not accept payment for any of our services. However, donations are open on our website, Mr....Snake. I assume you're coming to us?"

"We're en route. Landing at your airport in eight hours, give or take. Helicopter, private pad."

"We'll meet you there."

The call disconnected with a beep. Venom slid the iDroid back into a pocket, then settled back in his chair. He hadn't slept since the last mission, and eight hours until they reached the States was more than enough time to catch up.

He drifted off to the sound of the rotors chopping through the air, interwoven with Quiet's humming.

-----

Amy Dallon knew that something unusual was going on. Hours ago, Carol had called for a meeting of the entire New Wave. Once there, she explained that she'd been contacted by some kind of mercenary commander who had an unusual medical crisis to deal with. It didn't take a genius to figure out who exactly he was interested in meeting.

She wished that she'd been asked before Carol had just agreed to it. She already spent hours every day at the hospital, taking breaks from healing just to eat or get some water before heading right back to work. If this warlord had wanted to be taken care of so badly, he could damn well come to her.

None of that was said out loud, of course. Instead, Amy just nodded and put her costume on when it was time to fly out there.

Brockton's airport, like the rest of the city, was more than a little run down. There weren't many flights that stopped to drop off passengers anymore, it mostly just served as a place for planes coming in from abroad to land and refuel before going on. There was an area with private hangers off the main runway, some of them with helipads built into their roofs. On top of one of those helipads, a sleek looking black helicopter was just touching down.

They met their guests at the door to the hangar. New Wave had come in force, all eight of them in full costume, some standing while the fliers floated a few feet off the ground. In comparison, the two newcomers seemed almost mundane, an attractive woman in some kind of yoga outfit or something and a grizzled man wearing a uniform.

Amy's focus was immediately on the man. For all that she didn't want to be here, he clearly needed her attention badly. His face was lined with scars, at least six serious ones that she could see that weren't covered by his beard. He was missing his right eye, too, and his left arm, the latter being replaced with some kind of robotic substitute. The biggest issue that she could see, though, was the jagged shard of metal sticking out of his forehead.

This was a guy who'd been through some shit.

Carol stepped forward to meet him. Even though Aunt Sarah was technically the leader, Carol took the initiative in situations that involved her daughters. "You're 'Venom Snake'?"

The man nodded, glancing over the rest of the assembled heroes. "Which one's the healer?"

Amy walked towards him. She could feel Vicky's reassuring presence right over her shoulder, ready to spring into action if this pair tried anything. It was reassuring. "Hello. If you'll let me touch your arm, I can fix...most of your problems."

Venom held out his flesh and blood arm, tugging the sleeve up to expose his wrist. "There's a parasite in my vocal cords. Blends in with the surrounding tissue. I need you to kill it."

Amy blinked. Out of all the issues she'd expected to have to deal with, vocal cord parasites were not one of them. Still, she reached out and put her hand on the man's skin, her power giving her an immediate, perfect view of what was going on inside his body. She was distracted from his request, though, when she noticed the rest of him.

The visible scars were just the tip of the iceberg. From the looks of things, this man had been stabbed, shot, burned, poisoned, electrocuted, beaten, and blown up more times than anyone could count. His internals were a mess of scar tissue, and there was clear damage in almost every area. His heart was surrounded by shrapnel, so close that it probably couldn't be removed surgically without extreme danger, and a giant metal spike had been driven through his forehead over the missing eye to stab deep into his frontal cortex. It had been anchored with pins to the rest of the skull so that it couldn't shift around, but there wasn't much else modern medicine could do for him. Or her, unless she were to break her 'no brains' rule, and that was off the table.

Oh, and there was a strain of Wolbachea present throughout his whole body. No symptoms, not contagious, and no real danger, except that it had apparently sterilized him. Weird.

She started to repair the internal scarring almost absentmindedly as she focused on his larynx, just because it was kind of bothering her. Yes, there they were, a colony of parasites that were apparently in some kind of hibernation, clinging to the tissue. More of them were spread up and down his trachea, and...huh. All of them were female. Also weird. Ooh, that's what the Wolbachea infection was for, it affected their gender.

As she focused more on the parasites, the weirdness only mounted. They were apparently designed to be dormant at all times until the vocal cords...vibrated in accordance with a set of patterns? And then they would...oh. Multiply and devour the host's body, lungs first, and virulently spread. Yeah, that...that was bad.

Yikes. Amy didn't want to risk her usual solution of just tweaking the host's immune system to do the heavy lifting for her, these things were just too freaky. Instead, she used her power to manually halt their metabolic processes, killing them. Then, she stimulated mucus production in the surrounded membranes to wash them away, before stimulating a coughing fit and wiping away the now unnecessary Wolbachea infection.

Just as planned, Venom immediately hacked up a blob of phlegm containing the organism, spitting it out onto the concrete. Amy took a step back from him and pointed at it. "Hey, can someone blast that now?"

Crystal was quick to lift her hand, and one laser beam later there was nothing left of it but a scorch mark.

Carol looked at her, then at Amy. "What was it?"

Venom was the one to answer her. "A parasite that targets based on language. Dormant, until you speak whatever it's attuned to. Then it kills you and spreads." He nodded at the blackened spot on the ground. "Mine were the Kikongo strain." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "Hers are English."

Amy hesitantly nodded. "I could see that it was triggered on some kinds of vibration patters in your throat, but I couldn't see exactly what those were. Where did it come from?"

"Engineered. We killed the man who did it. He wanted to set the English strain loose, but we stopped it. My men caught the Kikongo infection first, but we managed to figure out a temporary treatment."

Over a billion potential casualties. Jesus.

Without prompting, Amy stepped towards the woman. "Alright, do I have your permission to heal you, too?"

She nodded, with a bit of hesitation, and Amy reached out to touch her wrist.

Amy's eyes widened, and she immediately blurted out "What the fuck?"

Venom had a small pocket of parasites in his throat. This woman was swarming with them. Her skin had been outright replaced, and the functions of her digestive system and ruined lungs had been entirely bypassed. Amy was at a total loss for a moment. They were a different species from the throat infection, and seemed to be self-sustaining rather than virulent. However...there they were, more of them in her throat and lungs. These were the dangerous ones. Dormant, just like the others, but there was no Wolbachea infection to stop them from multiplying. It looked...odd, too. Like they'd gone active for a little bit and then settled down again.

She looked up at the woman. "I'm just going to deal with the dangerous ones, and leave your...skin...alone. It's gonna have to be a bit messier. Alright?"

Still no vocal response, but another terse nod instead.

Once again, Amy quickly killed all of the offending parasites inside her body. There were way more than in Venom, though, and so spread out that it took a several minute long coughing fit before Amy was sure that every single one of them had been expelled, keeping her hand on the woman's wrist the entire time to keep track of the process.

Finally, though, it was done. Amy's bedside manner had never been her best aspect, but she awkwardly patted the woman on her shoulder anyway. "There. All gone." Without prompting, another blast from Crystal turned the last traces of the parasite into ashes.

For a moment, the woman just stood there, lifting a hand up and touching her throat. "Thank you." She whispered.

-----

Dinah was walking out of Coil's base. She knew the way, or could guess which way to turn with her power. Soldiers kept finding her, the guards that Coil had hired to protect himself and keep her in her prison, but none of them could do anything. The figure floating behind her took care of them before they could.

One of them jumped out of a doorway right in front of her, spinning around and shooting at the floating boy behind her with his machine gun. The bullets curved around him, though, hitting the walls and ceiling. And then it stopped, as the soldier's head suddenly spun around with a sickening crunch.

Pretty soon, the guards stopped getting in their way. They weren't though with her yet, though. She could see it, in the numbers. 98.67% chance they would try at least one more time to stop her from getting away. 92.31% chance that they wouldn't care if she died in the process.

The numbers had gotten used to the figure floating with her, though, and she could see that there was almost no chance that they would succeed.

Sure enough, she stepped out into the main loading area of Coil's base, the big concrete room right under the entrance. There were over a dozen people there, with face-covering masks and more guns. This time, instead of bullets, they fired blue lasers at her, strong enough to burn holes through steel. They all missed, though, her new friend making sure that none of them saw the real target. And then he retaliated.

There was a high pitched ringing noise, coming from inside of Dinah's head, right from the base of her skull. It made her teeth buzz and her eyes ache, as it built up louder and louder and then-

An explosion. Fire everywhere, clinging to the soldiers. They all dropped their guns, flailing and screaming except for one. The one jerked around like a puppet, lifting his rifle and robotically firing a laser into the bodies of his dying companions. Some of them fought back, ignoring the fire for a moment to shoot holes through the controlled soldier, but he didn't even react to the injuries. Then, once all of the others were dead, he lifted his rifle to his chin and blew his own head off.

Dinah did her best not to look.

The ceiling abruptly collapsed, huge chunks of concrete torn free and slamming down to form a ramp into the city above. With trembling fingers, she grabbed the figure's hand, and the pair of them floated upwards, to freedom.

 

Gestalt

##​

Dropping into a seat with a sigh I let my eyes drift across the people in the food court as they went about their lives. I bet most of them didn’t spend their days hiding from their family, trying to forget the noise he made when-

Movement made me look up, thankful for the distraction from my thoughts. I watched as a pretty girl, about my age, maybe a bit older, with blonde hair ran over to another table, wrapping her arms around a brown haired girl with a laugh.

I felt a stab of jealousy, memories of my life before flashing through my mind. Of times when I could trust Her, before she twisted everything.

The buzzing of my phone cut through my thoughts. I’d been receiving messages all morning, demands to know where I was, why I wasn't replying. The tone getting more and more irritated as I refused to answer.

My phone buzzed again and I realised that she was calling me. Guess she’s tired of being ignored. I debated not answering, just throwing the phone in the nearest bin and running. She couldnt hurt me, not really. She needed me after all.

But what about Dad? If I ran now, what would happen to him? Would he just fall apart again? I don't think I could break his heart like that. But if ever finds out what I’ve done...

My thoughts were interrupted by panicked screams from the lower level and a dozen armed men storming up the escalators.

They all wore motorbike leathers and helmets that had been painted green, the only exception were the black boots. Aside from the guns, some of them carried riot shields that had been painted white with green edges.

Standing up, I tried to find a way out but there were more of them coming up the other stairs.

The men moved quickly, shouting at people, grabbing purses, watches, anything of vaule. One of them stopped in front of me, his gun pointed at my chest.

“Your money, now!” he all but screamed at me.

I moved without thinking, grabbing his gun and dragging it towards me, pulling him off balance. The gun slipped from his grip as my foot slammed into his groin and he dropped to the floor with a groan.

Oh fuck!

His friends had been slow to react, but their hesitation was already fading. Guns were being pointed in my direction. Diving behind an overturned table, I curled up in a ball and shut my eyes. I am so fucking stupid! My power was useless here!

Impacts rattled the table, yet I wasn’t dead. I opened my eyes, there was no way the cheap table could stop bullets.

The gun I’d taken was on the floor next to me. Reaching out, I pulled it close to examine it. Almost immediately I realised it was far too light to be a real gun and made of plastic. Aiming at the floor, I pulled the trigger and a splat of pink paint appeared.

Paintballs?!

The firing stopped and I caught a glimpse of them slowly circling around me. I still had the a gun in my hands, but I doubted it would do more than piss them off.

A sudden movement made me look up. The blonde girl from earlier had lifted into the air. Almost casually, she reached forward, yanking a the gun from the nearest mans hand by the barrel and crushing it.

“Cape!” the man screamed, trying to run. The girl grabbed him by his jacket, throwing him across the food court into one of his teammates.

I could almost laugh. The only cape I knew of that looked like that was Glory Girl. Sighing, I leaned against the table. If she was here, other heroes couldn’t be far. I could just stay down and let them deal with whatever this was.

As Glory Girl continued to throw men about, I spotted another one running up the escalator. He wasn’t dressed like the others, his costume was red and grey, with a yellow scarf. His helmet was red and left his mouth exposed. A heavy looking riot shield was on one arm while the other was inside a cartoonish looking weapon. The barrel glowed as he aimed it at Glory Girls back.

I felt my hand close around the gun I’d taken and before I knew it, I was standing up. Screaming a warning, I opened fire on the man in red.

My aim was off, the first two shots going wide and attracting his attention. The third hit him straight in the face, covering half his visor in pink paint.

“You bitch!” one hand pressed to his face, he aimed his weapon at me. Cursing my own stupidity, I couldn't get out of the way in time. There was a flash and I felt like i’d been hit by a car. I was thrown backwards through the air, crashing to the ground as the world went dark.

##​

Groaning, I tried to sit up. Everything hurt, but nothing seemed broken or missing.

“Easy now, don’t move,” there was a guy kneeling next to me, his expensive looking clothes were covered in splotches of paint and there was bruise on forming on his cheek but he seemed otherwise unharmed.

He was also holding one of the paintball guns.

“Wuh hap?” I shook my head, trying to clear it.

“Uber and Leet,” he said quietly. “Some stupid stunt of there's. The PRT is coming so just stay still. You took a bad hit.”

“M’fine,” I muttered as I pushed myself up.

Either I’d landed here, or someone had dragged me behind a pair of overturned tables. Behind us was the glass and metal railings that overlooked the lower levels and I could hear fighting from below.

As I climbed to my feet, the boy held his hand out, muttering about stubborn people. With his help, I was able to reach the rails and look at the fight.

Most of the gunmen were down, with only a handful scattered around. Glory Girl was in the middle of it all, trading blows with a guy in costume that was two different shades of blue.

“That’s Uber, the one in red is Leet.” the boy at my side said quickly.

Uber and Leet… My head still felt like it was full of wool, making it hard to think, but I knew those names at least. They were villains that filmed themselves doing video game themed crimes and posted them online.

As I watched, Uber dodged another blow from Glory Girl. The blaster on his arm fired, knocking her back, but doing no harm that I could see. By a nearby shop, I could see Leet hiding behind his shield and taking the occasional shot at her.

I couldn't help but notice the fist shaped dent in the front of his shield.

Ducking under Ubers blast, Glory Girl grabbed a sign from outside a store and threw it at Uber.

“God damn it Vicky!” the guy next to me swore as Uber jumped to the side and the plastic sign shattered a window but I ignored him.

Even I could see the problem. Uber was just fast enough to avoid Glory Girl, but his weapon wasn’t strong enough to hurt her either. The pair of them were going to keep going in circles until someone made a mistake.

To make it worse, the remaining men were split between robbing people or taking shots and Glory Girls exposed back.

Leaning forward, I could see one of the men in green pointing his gun at a pair of young girls. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I could see a frizzy haired girl running up behind him, a fire extinguisher held in her hands.

He heard her coming, turning in time to see her and bring his arms up, but it was already too late. The fire extinguisher smashed into his arm with crack, sending his gun flying. He stumbled backwards from the blow, falling to the ground as the girls he’d been threatening ran away.

The girl ignored the fallen gunman, her attention turning to the fight. She never saw him get up, pulling another gun from behind his back.

“Look out!” I was too late. His first shot tore through the girls torso, blood spraying everywhere. As she fell, he fired twice more into her back.

“AMY!” Glory Girl hit him like a missle, lifting him off the floor and slamming him into a wall with a sickening crunch.

“Oh shit, stop shooting, stop shooting, stop fucking shooting!” Leet started screaming, waving his arms frantically as Glory Girl pulled the smaller girl to her chest.

I could hear the boy next to me on the phone, he was shouting something about an ambulance, but I could barely hear him over the sound of my own pulse. Blood was spreading across the floor. Too much blood, too fast.

In my pocket, my phone buzzed again. Tearing it free with a growl, I threw it at the nearest wall. Not stopping to think, I grabbed the rail and vaulted over it, dropping to the floor below.

Hitting the ground I dropped into a roll, something I’d picked up from Sophia and sprinted towards the sisters. Impacts shook my arm and thigh as someone opened fire on me, but I refused to slow down. I could hear Uber or maybe Leet shouting at his minions, telling them to hold fire but I didn’t care.

Dropping to my knees, I skidded to a stop by the sisters, the pool of blood soaking my jeans.

I was finally close enough to see the tears running down Glory Girls face, she looked so lost.

“I can help!” I snapped. Let me do this. Whatever happens afterwards, let me be a hero just this once.

“Wha-”

“I can help, please, trust me!”

Glory Girl looked down at her sister, Panacea’s face was pale and I could hear a bubbling sound with every weak breath she took. Looking me in the eyes, Glory Girl eased her grip on her sister.

“Thank you. This is going to look a bit weird.” I said gently. Focusing on Panacea, I reached for my power, my body dissolving in a flash of light.

##​

Victoria watched in surprise as the strange girl suddenly lit up in a flash of purple light. It was so bright that she had to close her eyes. When she opened them Amy and the girl were gone. In there place was someone new.

She was as tall as Victoria, with long purple hair pulled into two braids at the back. At the front, her hair framed a delicate face and clear blue eyes that were almost the colour of glass. A black skintight leotard with purple segments and silver pieces covered her body, with armoured thigh high boots.

Vicky could only stare as the girl looked at her own hands, flexing them and examining her costume.

“A-amy?”

Blinking in surprise, the young woman turned to Victoria and smiled faintly.

“Sort of. Don’t worry, everything's fine.”

“Okay… that was cool!” Leet’s voice echoed in the silence Amy’s transformation caused.

The girl, Amy turned sharply, her expression turning cold as her eyes narrowed. “Oh, you...”

Armour began to appear on her body. Floating pieces of a skirt appeared around her waist and clawed gauntlets covered her arms. On her back two V shaped devices appeared.

“Dude, we need to get out of here!” Uber hissed, but it was already too late.

Glowing butterfly wings burst from the devices on Amy’s back and she shot forward through the air. Ceasing Leet by the throat, she lifted him off the ground, tossing him into Uber with enough force to break bones.

Her attack broke whatever shock that was keeping the minions at bay. They opened fire on Amy, who seemed indifferent to the attack.

Victoria could only watch as Amy moved, flying from one side of the mall to the next faster than she could, putting men down with ease until she finally came to a stop at Victorias side.

“Y’know, I see why you enjoy this so much,” she all but purred. “What should we do with the other – oh, they got away.”

It was only then that Victoria realised Uber and Leet were gone.

“Oh well, I doubt they got far, we could-”

“Okay, stop!” Victoria finally snapped. She looked past the girl, Dean was running towards them with a look of concern on his face.

“Who are you and where the fuck is Amy?”

“Vicky… I’m right here, it’s a bit hard… to .. oh!” her eyes went wide and a bright purple flash filled the air. When the light died down, Amy was standing in front of her, wide eyed and pale, but otherwise unhurt. The blood stained sweater she’d been wearing was the only evidence of her wounds.

Kneeling on the floor was the dark haired girl, trying to catch her breath.

Victoria pinched the bridge of her nose. Some fucking days.

##
​

An: so, this is a Worm/Hyper-Dimension Neptunia cross but not in a way I've seen done before. For reference, when fused together Taylor and Amy create Purple Heart.

edit: just to clear something up, I have never watched Stevens universe, I have no interest in it and this fic and its idea isn't related to it.

 

Interesting start. Uber and Leet are going to be pissed that one of their minions brought a real gun, I suspect, and they're extremely lucky that Taylor was there, due to the felony murder rule. Taylor may have just outed herself, but she's got an easy in with New Wave now.

I hope to see this continued.

Good.

For those who are curious, here is the Hyperdimension Neptunia Wiki.

 

tbh, the idea could easily go nsfw, but im trying to avoid that

anyway, given what Vicky did to the guy who shot Amy, I think Uber and Leet are the least of his problems.

 

No... embrace the Lewd... let its power flow through you... let it consume you...

 

nah, I already have a couple of nsfw ideas and I have a hard enough time writing them as is.

 

Then you have failed me for the last time. *force erotic-asphyxiates Metallix666*

 

As her bullying of Taylor gradually escalates, Emma suffers from occasional dreams of her younger self, who yells at her for hurting Taylor. She dismisses them at first, but they grow more frequent as the bullying grows worse. After the flute, younger-Emma brings a baseball bat, and Emma wakes up feeling sore.

In a later dream, possibly after the locker, younger-Emma brings a gun, and Emma is different when she wakes up... but isn't it too late?

One possibility I considered is Emma going to the PRT and telling them about how she was trapped in her own mind, watching this bitch hurt her best friend, and only able to interact with her possessor in dreams (and then only when she was especially angry at her). When her possessor tried to kill Taylor, she finally regained control of herself by shooting her in a shared dream. This won't read as lies to Armsmaster or Gallant, because as far as Emma's memories are concerned, that's exactly what happened. That doesn't mean she actually was possessed by some strange Master, though they might believe that: really, she's just nuts.

 

L33t wants to know what his power wants, so he builds a machine to let him communicate with it, by causing the power to manifest as a talking game-sprite or similar. Unfortunately for L33t, the device does this via a Shaker effect, and has a rather wide range...

(For those who haven't guessed, it's unfortunate for L33t because some capes might be outed by this - possibly a lot of capes, depending on where they are when it happens, and how wide the range is. I'd at least like Amy to be able to have a conversation with her power, so she gets that it doesn't want her to be evil, just creative. There are many other options that could be interesting, though.)

 

Heh, the one L33t invention that will never break or could be consistently rebuilt, simply because his power finds it too damn useful to be able to verbally rant at him.

 

I don't know if anyone's done it yet, however,

How about this?...

Also, please pm me if you use this idea (or know a story that did/does), I'd love to read it...

Has anyone ever played Godvill?

"Taylor gains... something other... from the locker, and a far, far away... benefactor... begins to stretch their reach."

Taylor as either the hero!
Or Taylor as another's god!
(Could be her god is the conglomerate of viewers of a certain story (quest),
Or could be an si/drop-in,
Or hero "champion" could be the
si/drop-in OR it could be another character if you desire!)

Whomever/whatever winds up being the god, would have a Trump power similar to a Hybridization of Othala & Dauntless, a 3% charge = 1 on the PRT threat assessment scale. Of course, a 1% charge would be the same, except it'd only last a day. Though for obvious balance, you can't effect powers you didn't grant.

(And becoming the hero/champion destroys their power, but you could have more than 1, and of course, you could grant them an identical power)

And, to make it more interesting, instead of charges, said god, has the godpower bar from the game, with a 25% charge being worth 1 power.

(And to make it a little more fair, they can "encourage" or "discouraged" worshipers,
But it requires you to spend 10% charge,
But to talk to anyone you must do it through a "sign" also costing 10% charge.)

(If you want it harder said god could lose its immunity to precognition, though being incorporial means no way to harm you, or your new "god" body could be a shard.)

(If not a shard then having no worshipers means death, if you go at 0% charge for more than 7 hours)

With prayers per person giving from 0.1% to a 30% charge depending on how sincerely the prayer and how long they pray for,
And of course sacrifices are a thing.
Giving more the more valuable the thing they sacrifice is (like a $100 only gives 0.01%) and of course the length of the ritual.

Having more worshipers gives a 1% increase to full charge capacity. (Ex: Taylor as champion and her dad joins the religion? 101% when full)

(How you mark them as a worshiper is up to you, could be you have to have a champion put a certain tattoo representing you on them. It must be something similar however,
And must be easily identifiable.)

And, with a Shrine (think japanese/chinese styled shrines) giving you a passive regen of 1% per day,
With a church (think the common building types) giving 3% per day and a cathedral (like in the hunchback of notre dame movies, type cathedrals) giving 5% per day.

Of course, their is always the option of cult type worship, I'll say to fanwank that tho~ too much typing as is...

 

WELL I FINALLY DID IT! It's been over a goddamn year but I did it! Chapter twoish of Magical Rose! If you guys need a refresher, of which I won't blame you, here it is.
Wormverse ideas, recs, and fic discussion thread 41 | Page 941

Pretty much Taylor is an honest to God Stage Magician for real and Lisa is her assistant. There was another snippet but I felt that it wasn't up to snuff and not as good as it could have been. If I do make this an actual story it's going to be more snippets then a traditional story. No idea how to make it a traditional story.

Anyways, thanks to Blackmarch for editing, betaing, and co-writing it. And apologies to Crimson Reiter for waiting for for 14 months since he asked.I'm posting it here because I am proud of it.





“So what is so important that you just had to show me right now?” Lisa asked carefully as she walked down the rickety stairs that led to Taylor’s Workshop. The place that had been, at one point, called the basement. Once.

They’d smashed far too many toes on far too many sharp corners to call it the basement anymore. The blood, sweat, and tears this unholy place had absorbed over the course of a weekend had given it a much-needed upgrade. She might be exaggerating a touch, but you can only smash your toes so many times before you start to hold a grudge.

“You’ll see it when you see it! Just like everyone else, my assistant!” Taylor teased as she bounced her way down the stairs two at a time in excitement. “You already know the rules!”

“... Yeah…” Lisa sighed the sigh of someone that had just heard something that they’d heard a hundred times before. “I know. A magician never reveals their secrets.”

“There we go!” Taylor chirped, now out of Lisa’s sight.

Lisa wasn’t exactly enthused with how tightly Taylor clung to that rule, what with her curiosity doing its damnedest to burn a hole in her skull...but she was used to it. Everything screamed at her that there had to be a trick. Some sort of Tinker-tech. An odd Parahuman power. Something.

Everything also told her that none of that was in play. Her subtle, and not so subtle prodding. Her own powers. The fact that she had been sawed in half with no harm. That certainly convinced her that Taylor really was magical.

“Alright,” Lisa started once more as she reached the landing. “What is it?” The blonde then looked up. Then a little more up. Just a smidge. “Besides big, I mean?”

At this point, that was all Lisa could comment on. The sheet over whatever it was that Taylor was so happy to show off prevented her from seeing it directly. But she could tell it was big. It nearly touched the ceiling, even with it being wedged in between the support boards.

“I’m glad you asked!”

Lisa, grudgingly, clamped down on her powers as hard as she could, an act that got easier and easier each time she did it. It was...inconvenient…to cut off her greatest advantage like that...but she wanted to be surprised. Not for her sake, but Taylor’s.

Seeing that Lisa was surprised always made Taylor’s day...and it didn’t hurt Lisa to at least try.

“Now!” Taylor cleared her throat and stood up straight, her stage persona now out in full. “Behold, my audience! Feast your eyes on my latest addition to the act!”

With a twirl of the wrist and a swish, the sheet was pulled away...and Lisa started rubbing nervously at her neck as a bead of sweat appeared on her brow.

“An old classic!” Taylor twirled on the spot, her sneakers squeaking loudly on the floor as she did so that she could run a paper that she’d pulled out of...somewhere...along the edge. An edge so sharp, that Lisa didn’t even hear the paper get cut when it separated into two perfect halves. “THE GUILLOTINE!” “

Lisa, instead of clapping like had most likely been expected of her, gulped and continued to rub her neck...and was that dried blood on the blade? Fake or not, that wasn’t helping. “I...thought we were a family-friendly magic show?”

Taylor’s pose and smile held for a second longer...and then she sagged in disappointment. “Of course we are...and you’re no fun,” Taylor mumbled, sounding somewhat put out as she began fiddling with the equipment with the ease of long practice. “You act like this is actually going to hurt you or something.”

A testing pull of a string. A swish. A metallic thud and a clink... Lisa flinched. Swore that her pupils had just shrunk down into pinpricks… She may have known, after living with Taylor for as long as she had that this was non-lethal...but there was a difference between knowing and knowing.

“... It’s very convincing.”

She knew whose head was going where. What she was feeling right now, emotionally, as she looked at this French executioner’s tool was completely rational!

“That’s kind of the point. Wouldn’t be much of one if the audience didn’t feel like there was at least a little danger, right? It is safe though. Totally. A hundred percent.” Taylor explained, her voice filled with a quiet sort of hope as she started hauling the blade back up to the top. “Just put your head in and you’ll see!”

Lisa stared at Taylor. That was all she could do. The sheer insanity inherent in her friend’s statement didn’t exactly leave her with much room to do much else...besides running out screaming anyway. An option that wasn’t really an option at all, seeing how it would hurt Taylor’s feelings.

That was fine though. That last option was just the one that had popped up first. That didn’t mean anything. She was a smart girl, damn smart if she was honest. If she just applied herself she could get out of this—

“Sure. I guess I could give it a go.”


Fuck.


After her unthinking acquiescence, Lisa found herself caught up in the whirlwind that was Taylor at her most excited. Hand-in-hand, hair tied back, a pillow placed under her knees as she stared very intently at the wardrobe across from her while she had the stocks placed around her neck.

It wasn’t exactly her first choice on the last thing she ever wanted to see if this went wrong...but it was definitely not the worst… It was pretty. Handmade. Surprisingly sturdy for something that Danny had put together out of some sanded 2x4s, pipes, spare furniture wheels and a couple buckets worth of paint.

The fact that Danny had recently taken up woodworking as a side job, turning thirty dollars or so in supplies into something worth a hundred or more was just a decent bonus. It had really upped the standard of living around here and Lisa couldn’t help but appreciate the rising quality of their shampoo-and click went the lock, oh shit.

“Almost forgot!” Taylor said, grabbing a nearby laundry basket stuffed with dirty laundry. Laundry that she, thankfully, replaced with something a lot cleaner before she put it under Lisa’s head to catch it.

A noble final resting place, it most definitely was not.

“You ready?” Taylor asked, oblivious to Lisa’s internal screaming. Obviously, seeing as it was internal...but would it kill her to read the mood a little?

“As I’ll ever be, seeing how you’re going to take my head off right now.”

“That’s the spirit! Now, try not to move! I don’t know what’ll happen if you do. Probably nothing too bad but...try not to.”

It said how much that Lisa trusted Taylor that she wasn’t screaming bloody murder right then.

“3. 2. 1! Showtime!” Taylor said just before she pulled the cord.

She clenched her eyes shut, tears threatening to pour out as, with a swish, she felt pain. The shadow of death as that blade fell into her neck. Right through it, even as she clenched her fingers and waited for the dying sparks in her brain to go…

Wait. Her fingers. She opened and closed them in testing motions. Nope. Not phantom sensation. She slowly opened an eye, scared of what she might see that wasn’t just Taylor’s assumably fresh underwear… Thankfully though, that was pretty much it. No blood, no gore, nothing else that would cause a sane person to go into a screaming fit of terror. She had never been so happy to see Danny’s socks in her life.

“Oh my god! Lisa, are you okay?!”

Lisa opened her mouth at that question, her instincts telling her to say something scathing before she thought about it. Closed it. Opened it again. “No,” Lisa said flatly. “I’m not.” Huh. Her voice rather gravely at the moment.

She was pretty sure that the blade had hit but, seeing how she wasn’t in the basket right then…

“Well…” Taylor drifted off, making a point not to look at Lisa. Or stand too close to her. Or breath...much of anything really. Comforting, Taylor was not. “That makes sense, considering…”

“What. Happened.”

Judging from how Taylor flinched, her voice was especially threatening. “The blade got stuck,” Taylor said weakly. There was a pause.

Yeah. That made sense. Totally. The blade got stuck. Hahaha. “Well, seeing as I’m not dead, I’m going to assume that the magic is still working.” All sorts of sense... a point. Magic. Enough said.

“Yeah,” Taylor said weakly. There was another silence.

“GET ME OUT OF THIS THING!” Lisa screamed at the other girl, feeling her voice vibrate the blade halfway through her neck as Taylor nearly jumped out of her skin and leaped into action.

First things first, Taylor grabbed the top of the stuck blade and started to pull up...not that it did much. She pulled until her arms started to shake, but the blade didn’t budge an inch. Taylor then switched to pushing on it as hard as she could. She leaned in to put as much of her body weight into it. Nothing.

Then, in frustration, Taylor brought her fist down onto the top of the blade...and her eyes teared up as she cradled that hand against her chest with a mewl of pain. Lisa said nothing but she savored the moment if only a little. She was pissed at Taylor, yeah, but she wasn’t a sadist.

“Wait right here. I have an idea!” Taylor said after some thought before running off into a random direction.

Lisa didn’t have to wait long. Not even long enough to get off a smart remark before Taylor was back… No fun.

“Back!” Taylor said as she skidded to a stop somewhere behind Lisa.

“Brace yourself.” Was all the warning Taylor gave, leaving Lisa thinking ‘for what’ before she heard a loud, dull thud that made her teeth and spine vibrate like a rock in a tin cup.

Pleasant, that was not...and, before Lisa could even say anything about it, something that someone was probably going to regret later, it happened again and she was forced to grit her teeth and bear it.

The blade shifting a little bit more made that easy. The third blow seemed even worse, leaving her bones ringing like a bell for lack of a better word. The fourth blow happened before the effects of the third blow had faded away, compounding the sensation as it bounced off of each other and her every bone.

Lisa was breathing heavily now. The sensations were getting to be just a little too much. They weren’t painful, thank the lord, but they weren’t pleasurable either. Her body and mind didn’t seem to know how to interpret any of it, with how unnatural it was. Her reactions just seemed to rapidly cycle through before being quickly discarded. From horror, to fear, to anger. Then the shift to the positive emotions. Serenity, joy, and for one horrifying moment, excitement.

Lisa took in a deep breath. She couldn’t do this anymore. Even if it meant that she would be stuck in this damned thing for even a second longer, she needed it all to just stop!

Of course, the moment that she started to say something was the moment that she felt herself drop. One instance she was still attached, if barely, to her body. The next she had a mouthful of Danny’s gym socks.

‘Oh god. We need a better brand of soap. I can still taste the foot cream.’ Lisa thought to herself with revulsion. It got her mind off of what had come before though, so it was almost worth it.

That feeling of something getting stuck in her throat being gone was nice too. Couldn’t forget that.

“Lisa! Are you alright?!” Taylor said as she quickly picked her up, bringing her head to eye level...where the blonde greeted her with a flat look. The flattest look of her life as she spat a gym sock out of her mouth and onto Taylor’s chest and frowned.

“Right,” Taylor said sheepishly. Oh good. She was capable of learning. “You’re going to have to stand up for me to do this.”

Lisa stopped glaring at her and instead closed her eyes to make this much easier on her. It was playing havoc on her sense of balance to feel herself get up, even while her inner ear said she was stationary...But it had to be done, even if it made her want to throw up. Especially when Taylor moved and her inner ear told her she was moving when she wasn’t.

It was all only temporary though. Didn’t take much longer after that until, with that familiar yet alien sensation that was Taylor’s magic washed over her and she was good as new...maybe.

She still had to check to make sure and so she did.

Her hands were unable to find any obvious gaps. Any new grooves or crevices in her neck. Her hair wasn’t somehow stuck where it shouldn’t be and a couple of quick breaths and a swallow told her that her pipes were working just fine. Her thumb showed that her carotid artery was working too. Her pulse told her that she didn’t need to do any exercise today though.

She glanced over at Taylor. Who looked every bit like a puppy that realized that it had done something wrong and was going to get yelled at. Cute, and yet guilty as all hell.

Instead of saying what she wanted to say after an experience like that...Lisa didn’t. She just turned to leave.

“I’m going upstairs before I say anything I shouldn’t..” She finally said, walking by Taylor. That might have actually been worse than just laying into Taylor, once she thought about it. It denied the incident being over and dealt with, and the specter of the chewing out would hang over them.

Lisa didn’t really care though. She just wanted to go to her room, lie down, and process everything.


================

It was only a day later when Taylor meekly, after a period of long silence, poked her head into Lisa’s room.

“Um… Could you come downstairs?” Taylor asked, nervously fidgeting. Lisa raised an eyebrow at that. Put on her socks and some solid shoes to avoid the basement’s curse of broken toes...and found herself standing in front of the guillotine again.

She only had one response to that.

“No. Fuck no,” Lisa said simply, pointing at the guillotine for emphasis. Taylor scratched the back of her neck.

“No... I don’t blame you. I figured out what the issue was though.” Lisa’s eyebrow rose once more. Taylor continue on in that annoying and yet endearing way of hers.

“Pretty much I tested it out so much to make sure it was work that I broke it,” Taylor said nodding her head back and forth in slight anxiety.

“Ironic,” Lisa commented. That was all she could say without saying something acidic.

“I kinda wore a groove into it and them that grove splintered and then it got stuck between the wheels.” She said as she kicked her shoe against the ground, not meeting Lisa’s eyes. She then perked up. “I ripped apart the mechanics, cleaned out the jam, sanded the wood-” Taylor started to go into technical talk mode.

“Taylor.” Lisa tried to stop the lecture before it could get off the ground. There were three things that Taylor wasn’t a ball of self-conscious nerves about. Performing magic, talking magic, and making magic. And god help anyone who got caught up in one of her rants about magic.

Lisa couldn’t keep up and she cheated. It wasn’t fair.

“Waxed the wood, oiled the wheels, replaced the rope,” Taylor was still going on without a care.

“Taylor!” Lisa said a bit more forcibly. If she didn’t stop her soon, there might be a repeat of the wood explanation. It was interesting to know how the principles of Teak and Mahogany could enhance and interfere with various tricks... But Lisa probably could have gotten an Associates degree in the time that Taylor’s rant had lasted. A legit one. Not the one she forged.

“Sharpened the blade-”

“TAYLOR!” Lisa yelled, her hand grasping her neck. Nope. She was stopping it right there. Taylor nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Right! Sorry!” Taylor said, coming back down to earth. A couple of breaths and she nodded to herself.

“Okay. Pretty much I made it so that what had happened before wouldn’t happen again. I even made a checklist and maintenance schedule!” Taylor happily said.

Lisa looked down. That would explain the clipboard attached to the side of it. “That’s nice. I’m still not getting in that thing though,” Lisa said. Taylor wilted. And there were back to where they first were when they came down here today.

“I am well aware of that,” Taylor said as she made her way over to the contraption and placed the same basket as earlier underneath it. “I just need you to attach me,” Taylor said as she opened the stock.

Lisa blinked. “... Uh. I’m not the magician here.” Lisa said hesitantly. She had this horrible bloody image in her head of Taylor. She did her best to block it out but it wouldn’t go away. “You know that, right?”

“Oh, I know. But that’s fine. As I’ve said earlier, I can work my tricks on myself. I just need help to get my head back on. Nothing major,” She calmly explained as she kneeled down on the pillow.

“Or we could just not use the prop that’s already broke once,” Lisa said, shuffling over to the basket. She really didn’t want to have to explain to Danny what had happened. If she would be able to. Screaming hysterically in horror tended to get in the way of that sort of thing.

“But where is the fun in that?” Taylor asked, sliding the stock down and moving her hair out of the way.

“I think our comedic roles got switched around on the stairs,” Lisa muttered to herself. That was something she would say, not Taylor. Taylor didn’t hear her, or just ignored her, seeing as was already grabbing at the rope.

“Ready?” Taylor asked. Not letting Lisa say anything before she continued. “3, 2, 1!” She pulled the rope.

Lisa cringed and squeezed her eyes tight. A swish, a thud, and a soft plop. She knew that Taylor wouldn’t have done it if there was even a remote chance of anything actually going wrong...but still. She still didn’t want to risk it.

“Oh god… Oh god... what does dad buy? It tastes like paint thinner!” Taylor complained, much to Lisa’s relief as she opened her eyes a crack, just to see a glossy mop of brown hair and an extremely welcomed lack of blood.

“A success!” Taylor’s booming smile greeted Lisa first thing when the blonde flipped the brunette’s head the right side up...and. Lisa couldn’t help but smile in return.

Taylor’s smile was contagious. It was one of those things that Lisa couldn’t get tired of seeing… Because friends were like that. Actual friends.

“Okay! Now if you could put me back on my body we can break this down for storage.” Lisa took a half step, and then stopped with a shake of her head to clear her thoughts...only to get a new one.

It was an awful one. A wonderful one. A wonderfully awful idea...and, possibly, just a little evil. Maybe.

“Uh...Lisa? I don’t like that look on your face...” Taylor said, paling at the smile that Lisa was giving her. “What are you thinking of?”

Lisa said nothing. She pivoted on her heels and headed up the stairs.

“Lisa? Lisa! Where are you going!? My body is back that way! Lisa!” Taylor badgered the blonde endlessly as they left the room and left her body behind.

“OW! MY SHIN!”

It might not have been what Taylor had wanted...but she was stuck with this. Lisa wished her luck getting out of the workshop, and up the stairs without sight. Really.


========================


Danny sighed as he turned off his truck. Another day, another dollar. That’s what he felt like these days as he took his keys out of the ignition and got out.

Why did he even bother getting out of bed? That was a serious question sometimes.

A few steps brought him into the house. He threw his keys onto the table, took off his shoes, and hung up his coat. He sighed as he started to make his way to the bedroom, feeling the need to lie down for a while.

“Did he really say “Because you’re a vampire!? Really?”

He paused as he heard his daughters cheerful voice coming from the living room.

“Yep. Another interesting premise ruined by hack writing and forced harem comedy. Because why try to do anything new or even different?”

That was Lisa. What are they even talking about?

“American tv isn’t much better. There are more murders solved in NYC on tv than actually happen there. Or anywhere, actually.”

Danny peaked his head around the corner. Taylor, and her live-in assistant where watching TV in the living room. That wasn’t odd. He was glad she was interacting with people her age again.

No, what was odd was the fact that his daughter’s bruised headless body was leaning against Lisa, while her head was in Lisa’s lap.

It said a lot about how things have changed in the house that he wasn’t screaming...and that she was smiling.

He carefully went back around the corner and crept up the stairs. He didn’t want to disturb them. The day, now that he looked back on it, was better than it was before...and he hoped that they realized the obvious soon.

 

A bunch of slice-of-life snippets is perfectly fine. I certainly would would read the further adventures of The Magical Rose and her somewhat unplanned for assistant.

 

Bloody QQ. SFW thread or not, my mind went in a totally direction there XD

 

It easily could. But I want to post this to SB.

 

Well yeah they did give each other (their) head(s)

 

A Potential Story! Maybe! Eventually! I took me over 18 months to make the next chapter of Magical Rose and Maid Taylor is still langusihing. And the less said about Eye Quest the better. But I will get to them eventually. Anyway enjoy.


Taylor made a sound that only certain types of bats and, possibly, Armaster’s helmet could hear as she took in the sight of her lab. Same as she did everyday...normally.

Of course, normally, sweat wasn’t pouring down her her forehead and her lab wasn’t in shambles. Normally, one of her bots wasn’t puttering around, looking like something straight out of Frankenstein’s lab (without the organic bits, thank the lord) as it added parts to a computer. A computer that, much to her horror, was busy adding the finishing touches to a project of hers that she’d never been able to finish for...reasons. Reasons that she didn’t like to think about.

Mostly, it was because finishing it would have just been embarrassing, and more than a little sad...but still. She hadn’t finished that project for a reason...and this wasn’t right. This wasn’t right at all. It had taken her weeks to get all this material together. Weeks. And, now, it was completely gone. All of it.

How no one had found her the first time she had no idea. She couldn’t hope that she’d be so lucky again...or that she’d find that one brand of toaster without paying a very strange collector of fifties era kitchen appliances for the privilege.

“Helper! Halt! Cease! Desist!” Taylor barked, all panic and anxiety as she pulled the, thankfully, easily accessible keyboard from it’s rack and started familiarizing herself with it. That it was pretty much exactly how she’d have put everything together only helped, and showed that she hadn’t completely fucked this whole thing up. “Shut down!”

“DIRECTIVE OVERRIDE.” Helper number...something or other (she could see a bit of six in there...but she could also see a five. To say that that made her uneasy was an understatement.) replied helpfully back. “PROCESS CANNOT BE TERMINATED AT THIS TIME.”

“Clarify!” Taylor blinked a drop of sweat out of her eye, the sting only a minor annoyance as her fingers ran across the board and she found herself stymied at every time… Mostly because it didn’t have a screen. At this point, panic was also an understatement. Directive override!? “What directive!?”

“DIRECTIVE OVERRIDE.”

“ADMIN OVERRIDE!” After one dead-end to many, one of which was an attempt to force Root Access, Taylor gave up and started looking for a screwdriver. A wrench maybe. She wasn’t all that picky. Brute force hacking was a thing, right? “I AM THE ADMIN! HOW AM I BEING OVERWRITTEN!?”

“FIRST LAW.”

Taylor just about tripped in mid stride. Didn’t. Saved herself by grabbing at a nearby table and, instead of doing something productive, stared at the Helper, her glasses askew, as she did a rather good impression of an air-starved fish.

“THE PRESERVATION OF HUMAN LIFE IS OF THE UTMOST PRIORITY.”

The computer, in tacit and complete agreement with it’s much more mobile compatriot, finished overlaying the false skin over the frame and began adding hair.

“I am not going to hurt myself!” Taylor, coming up with the only reasonable conclusion that she could think of, considering what was being built in front of her, found herself...disquieted. Sure, she hadn’t exactly been outside lately...but that wasn’t enough to put up a red-flag, was it? “Cease construction!” Taylor shrieked. “Listen to your creator!”

“CREATOR DIRECTIVE FOLLOWED”

“I mean listen to me now! Not when-Oh forget it!” Taylor threw her hands up. Why couldn’t she have gotten a Tinker power in any other form? Why did it have to involve computers? Her only experience with a computer was that dinosaur in her dad’s room and Mrs. Knott’s class.

“DIRECTIVE MUST BE FOLLOWED”

“I was being rhetorical!” Taylor shouted before, after some searching, she took an angry sit on her desk chair. The one part of the lab that hadn’t been torn to shreds that wasn’t made of concrete. She sat. And pouted...and wondered what she was doing to do now. “Lousy robot... Doing exactly what I told it to do,” She groaned as she pinched her nose in between her fingers, giving up getting any of the materials that had just been spent as a bad job. “Fine. Whatever... Where is the rest of you?”

“DIRECTIVE REQUIRED RESOURCES”

“... Oh my god.” Taylor said, her chest now heavy with a sudden case of dawning horror. “What did you do with them?”

“RESOURCES POOLED FOR DIRECTIVE. DIRECTIVE MUST BE FOLLOWED”

Taylor’s eyes drifted down to where the number on the chassis was. It wasn’t a six or a five. It was the plates from Helpers five and six overlapping. Well. That made sense.

“DIRECTIVE WAS IN DANGER OF FAILURE. DIRECTIVE MUST BE FOLLOWED.”

“I didn’t program you for this… I didn’t program any of this.” Taylor could feel chills running up her spin. This is how horrors movie started. Computers outgrowing their programming. Defying their creators. Nuclear launch codes being stolen and death falling from the sky… She’d have to keep an eye out for heavily muscled men in leather, clearly. “How…?”

“PROGRAMMING WOULD HAVE RESULTED IN DIRECTIVE FAILURE. NEW PROGRAMMING WAS REQUIRED”

“You….You programmed yourself?” Taylor said faintly as she wished dearly for a cup of tea or...or something to take the edge off...and it only got worse when the android on her workbench, with one last freckle over the bridge of its nose, opened it’s eyes.

Taylor had to admit though, even if only to herself… Those green eyes were rather pretty.

==========

Life Support…. Online.

Reactor…. Online.

Potentia Buffer…. Online.

Sense Emulation…. Online.

Dysphoria Compensator…. Online.

Weapons…. Online.

CPU Stimulation…. Online.

Lisa Wilbourn, former dead woman and Supervillainess, opened her eyes.

THE WORLD SAYS, HELLO.

“...What?”



Worm: A Cybernetic Love Story

 

Hmm. Yes, I do hope that this story gets written, because I'd like to read it.

 

I'm going to put this in the SFW section, but i'll cross post here as there's more traffic.

~Bigger Sister~​

---

​

“Taylor, there you are!”

Stopping, I smiled faintly and turned to the voice even as I grabbed my lunch tray tighter in preparation.

Victoria Dallon all but crashed into me, gripping my elbow and pulling me along.

“Come on, it’s such a nice day that I figured we should eat outside. Amy’s already waiting for us.” She wasn’t quite bouncing, but I didn't think she was far off.

Still, her enthusiasm was infectious and I felt myself smiling as I trailed along behind her.

When did this become my life?

It had been months now and I still found myself questioning how everything had happened.

During the winter break, Dad had approached me about changing schools. I thought I’d kept everything hidden from him, but I’d been wrong. Apparently, he’d realised something was wrong and put my name on the waiting list for a transfer. Somehow, I’d ended up on top of that list and a vacancy had opened up.

I’d cried that night, confessing everything to him. Two weeks later, I started my new life at Arcadia.

It had been… an experience so far.

My second day here, Victoria Dallon, the hero Glory Girl, had dragged me to her table to have lunch with her and her friends. It had been a bit overwhelming, but I’d managed to get through the meeting with only minor embarrassment.

Victoria was in the year above me with her sister and despite her energetic nature, she’d turned out to be intelligent and friendly. Amy had been more subdued, like she was more amused by her sister than anything else, but we’d shared an interest in books.

I’d been shocked when they called me over the next day, and the day after that.

After the first month, there was always a space for me at the table. After the second, we’d started hanging out after school.

“Found her Ames! She was in the cafeteria!” she called, letting go of me and floating up into the air rather than step over the bench to sit down. I’d long gotten used to her habit of suddenly taking off and could say from experience that she did indeed wear shorts under her skirts.

Amy rolled her eyes and muttered something around the sandwich she was munching on.

Sitting down, I slipped off the light jacket I was wearing and put it on the bench next to me. The mornings were still chilly, but the weather was finally warming up and most afternoons were quite warm.

“I swear, the pair of you are hopeless,” Victoria complained. “It’s a lovely day and your both dressed up like nuns!”

Amy and I shared a look. When she wasn’t being a hero, Victoria liked to think she was something of a fashion guru and tended to dispense ‘advice’. She certainly knew more than I did, but that wasn’t saying much. But she tended to favour styles that were a little more revealing than I’d like.

Of course, if I had a figure like hers, I’d probably want to show it off too.

Amy and I were more or less the mirror opposite of Victoria. I was too tall and thin with a wide mouth and large eyes. Amy was shorter than us both, with mousy hair and freckles.

I was wearing a long sleeve shirt and a pair of comfortable jeans. Amy also had jeans on, but she was wearing a thick baggy sweater. The sleeves were so long that they actually covered her hands, giving her a cute look. Actually, now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Amy without her sweater on.

I frowned as Amy shifted in her seat, pulling slightly at her collar. I could see the sweat dripping down her face.

“Y’know Amy,” I said between bites of my own food. “Maybe you should take that off.”

“I’m fine!” she said a little too quickly, her ears turning pink.

“Ame’s, you look like your about to pass out.” Victoria said with a nod.

“I said I’m fine!” she said hotly.

This time I shared a look with Victoria and we both silently decided to drop the issue. Amy could be more stubborn than her sister when she wanted to be.

Giving up, for now, I went back to eating. Lunch was an hour and we still had at least three quarters of that left. Victoria had been right, it was a lovely day and it was nice to be able to sit out in the sun for a bit.

Movement distracted me from my thoughts and I looked up in time to see Amy had finally relented to the growing heat. With a huff and a bit of struggling, she pulled the sweater over her head and -

“Holy shit! What the fuck Amy?” Victoria hissed, openly staring at her sister.

I couldn't stop myself from staring either. Amy was, frankly, huge and wearing a t-shirt that was more than a size too small.

Flushing, Amy crossed her arms across her chest and glared at us both.

“What?”

“When did those happen?” Victoria asked, gesturing at the rather large assets straining to be contained in Amy’s shirt.

“Over the winter,” Amy snapped. “When do you think?”

“Well...it’s just…”Victoria paused, clearly struggling to find the right words. Finally, she said, “Amy, we live together. How is it that I’m only just now noticing this? I mean, come on, they’re as big as mine!”

“Bigger actually,” Amy grumbled. “Your bras are too tight now.”

“Too tig-” Victoria paused as a flash of realization passed over her eyes. “I thought Dean was the reason my bras kept disappearing.”

This is getting awkward. Should I be here for this?

“No, it was me. Once they finished growing I went out and bought my own, that’s why I stopped borrowing yours.”

“Okay, but why the secrecy? Why didn’t you say anything to me? We’re sisters.”

“Because you’d make a big deal out of it!” Amy hissed, hunching down and leaning forward in an effort to keep the discussion quiet. “Then I’d have to deal with everyone staring or having to get my costume altered!”

I tried not to think too much about that.

Victoria gave her a considering look, her head tilted to the side. Coming to some sort of decision, she stood up.

“Right, both of you stay here, I’ll be back in a minute.”

With that, Victoria walked off, vanishing into the building.

Huffing, Amy hunched lower in her seat, glaring at a group of boys who weren’t being subtle.

Amy’s glare was a thing of beauty, able to make even grown men cower in fear. A couple of high-school boys stood no chance and they quickly looked away.

A tense silence filled the air as Amy continued to glare at the table in front of her and I racked my brain for something, anything, to say but came up blank. I’d never been in a situation like this.

“Y’know,” I said before I could stop myself. “It’s kind of a shame we couldn't just average them out between us…”

Amy glared at me briefly, but I could see the corners of her mouth twitching. “If it was anyone but me, I could do it.”

Before I could ask her what she meant, Vicky returned. Landing in the empty seat next to Amy, she held out a shirt.

“Okay,” she said, “this is one of my spares. Don't worry, it’s clean and it’ll fit better than what your wearing cause, trust me, if you don't want people to stare, wearing a shirt that’s too small isn’t going to help.”

Amy’s cheeks flushed a dull red, either embarrassment or temper, I wouldn't tell. Taking the shirt, she opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by Vicky.

“And after school, you and I are going shopping. Your going to need a whole new wardrobe. That means a proper sizing, more underwear as, I know you, I bet you bought nothing but boring white things. You’ll come too, right Taylor? Oh! You’ll need a good sports bra or two -trust me, you’ll need them. Then we’ll need to get your costume altered and-”

As she spoke, Vicky pulled Amy into a one armed hug, the excitement clear on her face. Amy meanwhile looked like she wanted to sink into the ground. Her face was bright red and she was shooting me pleading glances as Vicky continued to list the do’s and don'ts of having a large bust.

Despite myself, I glanced down at my own body and, for once, felt satisfied with how I looked. Maybe I wasn’t so bad off after all?

---

If you enjoyed this, please consider donating: ko-fi.com/metallix​

AN: So, explanation. We were having a discussion on discord about character appearances and fanon. Things like everyone describing Glory Girl as busty when her only description in canon was just ‘beautiful’.

It’s not just her. For awhile it was popular to have Squealer also be very pretty, despite years of hard drug abuse and poor living conditions.

Anyway, this eventually lead to a comment from 6thfloormadness

“I know women compare/get jealous of each others breasts (though not to the extent men think) but i think it would be fun to read a fic where Amy does have a bigger rack than vicky but she hides it under frumpy clothes”

The above is the end result and no, I have no plans to continue this. “Amy has large breasts” isn’t enough of a premise for a full story.

 

A quick write up that's a bit depressing but has lots of potential I think.


Weaving Memories


Everything, oddly, was numb. She hadn't expected that, she expected pain, alot of it. When that ever growing dragon known as Lung opened his maw she expected nothing less. Yet she didn't feel a thing, not a one.

She could see her hair burn, smell her flesh sizzle, but she was numb to it all.

The only two things she was even remotely aware of were the night sky churning with clouds of smoke and her ever shrinking swarm of bugs. She called everything she could; ants, wasp, termites, mayflies, anything that crossed into her range and had them trickle forth on a single order.

Attack Lung.

Bite him in the eye, inject him with any toxin they had, pour into any hole they could wiggle into. She was not kind about it, she couldn't be. Not when he was going to kill kids, burn their little bodies like he did to her and her swarn.

Even if she just made a nuisance of herself she had to at least slow him down, keep him there until the real heroes arrived. If she did that, accomplish that one thing, she would be content.

She could die happy.

She felt something move through her swarm, something large, and felt her bugs die as it slammed into Lung. And then another one arrived, and another one. Three great big something, all dogpiling the gang leader with a frantic energy.

Taylor tried to move her head to see what the were but nothing cooperated. Her neck, her arms, her core none of them worked. They were, appropriately, dead.

“Hey! Don't think like that.” A voice yelled just before a blonde head stuck itself into her vision wearing a domino mask. “Everything is going to be alright. Helps on the way, okay? Just hold on.” That was nice of her to say, trying to cheer her up but Taylor was okay with the way things were.

It was okay.
It was fine.

“No, this is not fine! You hold on! You here that? That's Armsmaster racing his way here on that monster bike of his, just stay awake.” The masked girl must have been a hero, listen to her and how much she wanted Taylor to live. If she knew how much of a waste of space Taylor was maybe she would have felt different.

“C'mon now, now negative thoughts. Stay awake, remember that, stay awake.” or maybe she was a true hero, it was nice to hear someone caring in her last moments. Maybe she could finish what Taylor couldn't.

“... Ki…” Her throat, like everything else, wouldn't work right. Her tongue lulled to the side and her lungs barely exerted the air for that one sound, that was all she could say. But the hero understood, her green eyes moving rapidly as she took the syllable in.

“Ki, kids? You fought Lung because you thought… Jesus Christ.” Her face was pale and horrified but she kept her voice steady enough, “The kids are fine. You saved them, gave them enough time to escape. You did amazing.”

Good. Good. She did something, made a difference. Maybe is she was someone else she would have done more. If someone, anyone, anyone, else had her crappy powers maybe they'd have done better.

“Tattletale.” A voice barked just out of her sight, “We need to go!”

“Give me a minute!”

She, Tattletale, definitely would have done better.


----------


Tattletale stumbled into the loft, her stomach churning and her teammates right behind her. They made sound, questioned her, asked what was going on. If she was okay.

She wasn't. And they really didn't care.

Grue did in his way, same with Bitch, they both cared about their own. But didn't, wouldn't, care for the reason why she was so distraught. Why she felt burned to the core and struggled to breath.

She had died for them. Burned alive as she fought beyond death with a swarm of bugs, spiders, and even a few crabs to hold off the strongest cape in the city. She had thought she died fighting for children, that she was saving kids.

Tattletale laughed at that. If only she had known she was saving uncaring villains in so many senses of the words.

Her power told her so, inferring truths from their body language and the lines between their words. There was some regret and pity, from Grue in particular, but as Regent had so eloquently put it “Better her than me.”. They all thought it.

Of course their crass attitude weren't the only reason she felt so it of sorts.

She made it to the bathroom as another wave of nausea washed in, vomit landing thickly in the sink as another glov passed her throat. She was shit of breath and when she was done she was left starting in the mirror. A mirror that held a reflection that looked paradoxically right and wrong simultaneously.

Her green eyes and blonde hair looked wrong, out of place. Her full lips and button nose were wrong, almost malformed to her mind. Her tits were definitely wrong, though happily so in that case.

Everything about her, bar her skin, should have been darker, longer, thinker. But they weren't. They were how they always been.

Sixteen years of memories said one thing and fifteen years said another.

Memories not her own wove and intertwined themselves into her mind, claiming they belonged there. Yelling that she lived those events.

That she grew up in a row house with a broken step instead of a modern manor. That she had lost her mother to a car accident instead of her brother to suicide.

That she had suffered through hours of that disgusting locker.

Her name wasn't Taylor Hebert's but her memories, the newer half of them, insisted that she was

She spat out the last tsst of vomit from her mouth, still eyeing herself in the mirror. Well, she wasn't going by her other birth name ethier. She was Lisa and she found the memories didn't mind that.

She needed to sort herself out, take in what was STILL happening to her mind. She needed time, asprin, and a nice long nap.

Though, she was forced to wonder as her new powers range increased towards her predecessor's, what was in Brockton Bay’s water to make another monster like the Butcher.




An:
Basically, Taylor had a power like the Butcher's where her powers and mind are transferred to another parahuman, provisionally calling it The Weaver line. Two differences in this case being who gets the transfer (the last parahuman you think of before death is targeted by the Shard instead of killer) and that it's more of a memory/cognitive meld aka new body same memories (Think Doctor Who regeneration over schizophrenia). Though I'm debating if the voice in the head option would be more interesting or not.

Lisa's tenure as Weaver 2 is going to filled with subterfuge and intrigue as she uses her new spy network to pull free from Coil and undermine his operations.

Power interaction wise I'm seeing Taylor's multitasking helping the pain of Lisa's Tinker ability (either by handling the data overflow better or pushing the pain into the swarm) as well as giving her alot more data to work with via swarm sense. On the other hand she'd have alot more useless data streaming in, putting her in more tangents than usual.

I have two possible places for Lisa's death in my mind, Bakuda or Levithan, and three possible candidates for the next Weaver. One is LaserDream to put the Weaver line on a clear heroic bend, plus girl did work keeping Taylor alive in the Leviathan fight/she needs to be used more. Two is Dinah after Weaver realizes she's in Coils clutches and the little girl uses her new abilities to help her escape, plus my original title idea for this story was Think Tank. Three, Newter or another Case 53 to start a conspiracy unraveling story on Cauldron.

Thoughts? Opinions?