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Prodigal Daughter [Worm Alt-Taylor AU]

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Ack, Dec 25, 2018.

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  1. Daimah

    Daimah Something something

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    People? What people? I only see snacks for Crawler and the Siberian and raw materials for Bonesaw's art.


    Well, this certainly didn't go where I was expecting. From the clues in the first chapter I guess that Emma still did something rather unwise. That usually happens at Sophia's behest. But being the only survivor of a nine's attack is something that she would respect... I don't know what's happening anymore. And I love it :D

    That said, I'm calling it now, Taylor will take Hatchet face out and keep his weapon as a souvenir.
     
  2. Ina_Meishou

    Ina_Meishou Making the rounds.

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    Kids these days. No respect. Always interrupting you when you try and work.
     
  3. Wolfboy

    Wolfboy Not too sore, are you?

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    Gasp, and here i thought I was the only person who did that
     
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  4. edale

    edale Versed in the lewd.

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    No instead Taylor learns a valuable life lesson about how friends that slay together stay together... And Sophia wants to steal her friend?
    FTFY.
     
    Last edited: Jan 1, 2019
  5. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Fixed that for you :p
     
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  6. GladiusLucix

    GladiusLucix I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    I don't think the fic will be going this way, but it would be rather hilarious if Taylor gathered a crew of about eight of her half siblings, and started chasing their father's crew around the country. In short order, despite none of them being capes, they manage to collect record setting amounts of S9 bounty money.
     
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  7. edale

    edale Versed in the lewd.

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    Touché.
     
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  8. NoFunposter

    NoFunposter Can't sleep, Salt will eat me.

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    If Taylor actually manages to pull this off it'll either end in a mass of traumatised kids or some thoroughly stockholm'd normals that owe their life to Taylor, unless of course one or two of them trigger.

    I'm getting that almost affable psychopath vibe from Taylor, the kind that's like "Oh yeah they're a completely cold-blooded killer, but they're snarky and wryly self-aware".
     
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  9. edale

    edale Versed in the lewd.

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    Taylor = Dexter 2.0.
     
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  10. Threadmarks: Part Three: Exceeding Expectations
    Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Prodigal Daughter

    Part Three: Exceeding Expectations


    [A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]


    “Wait!” I called out, just as we were about to be loaded into the back of the truck. Everyone looked around at me, except Crawler. Well, he swivelled about half the eyes on that side toward me, which kind of counted.

    “What is it now?” my father asked, exasperation plain in his tone. “You may be my daughter, but that doesn't mean I'll stand for time-wasting shenanigans.” He spun the knife in his hand around a few times, making it glitter in the light of the setting sun. “That sort of thing is my shtick. Get your own.”

    “I just need something out of my backpack, in the cabin,” I said. “I'll only be a moment.”

    He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Shatterbird, go with her. I'll watch the rugrats.” The knife spun again in his hand, and leaves drifted down from a tree on the other side of the camping ground. His message was loud and clear; there would be no running away. Of course, the fact that Crawler was crouching there and licking his lips (using several mouths at once) was also an extremely adequate argument against running off.

    Not that I was trying to give the kids any such chance to escape. In fact, the more of them I had around me on the gauntlet back into the campsite, the better. I was just trying to improve my odds of getting back. Junior Slaughterhouse Nine member was not a career path I was interested in.

    Looking somewhat bored, Shatterbird followed me into Chipmunk cabin. I sighed, wishing momentarily that I'd had the chance to get the sign changed. One more thing to be mildly annoyed at my father about.

    “Well, go on. Get what you need to get.” It turned out Shatterbird had a British accent. “Hurry up or you'll find out how many non-lethal ways I can cut you.”

    “Okay, okay, fine.” I dragged my backpack out from under my bed where I'd kicked it, then shoved it in her direction. “Want to open it first, to make sure I haven't got guns or something in there?”

    She hesitated, then nodded. “I suppose. You're his daughter, after all.” Pulling the straps free of their buckles, she went to open the flap, only for the red cord to go taut and hold it closed.

    I manufactured a stupid little giggle, and she looked up at me, annoyed. Muttering something under her breath, she yanked harder at it, just as I stepped back out of the way and pulled the switchblade from my pocket.

    The paint bomb went off as advertised, spraying her with the kind of bright red dye that bank robbers hated. As she lurched back, clawing at her eyes, I lunged forward with the switchblade already clicking open. The blade passed between her arms and buried itself in her throat. She let out a gurgling cry, then sat down hard. At the same time, the glass that she still had wrapped around herself fell to the floor.

    Pulling the switchblade out of her neck, I reached into the pack and retrieved the iron bar from the bottom. Briefly, I considered stabbing her again or bashing her skull in, then decided why bother? I’d beaten her ass, and we’d both know it from then on. Sliding the bar into my sleeve, I straightened up just as rapid footsteps approached. A moment later, my father appeared at the door to the cabin. He blinked in confusion at the sight of Shatterbird apparently covered in blood, and me more than a little splashed with it as well.

    “Seriously, what the hell?” he asked. “I left you two alone for just one second. And where did all that blood come from? The human body can’t lose that much blood and survive. Trust me, I’ve tested that theory.”

    “Paint bomb,” I explained. “It's amazing what you can buy online.” It really was.

    “Okay, paint, right,” he said. “I got that bit. But what did you do to her?” He pointed at Shatterbird, who was holding her throat with one hand and trying to rub paint out of her eyes with the other.

    I was a little surprised that he hadn't already figured it out. “I stabbed her in the larynx. She probably won't drown on her own blood, and I don't think I got any important blood vessels. Bonesaw should be able to fix her up.” I'd already worked out that the bio-Tinker had probably upgraded my father and the others so I wouldn't be able to simply stab them to death. It was what I would’ve done, after all. Which was one of the other reasons I'd chosen not to try to stab Jack, even when he got irritating. But there was a lot of leeway between killing someone and just disabling them.

    “But you didn't even kill her. Why bother … oh. You did it so she won't be able to sing until then.” The look of enlightenment on his face was replaced by a brief flash of annoyance, which was then superseded by a broad smile. “Well done, Taylor. Come along, our transport awaits.”

    A gurgle from Shatterbird drew his attention and he turned to her. “What was that? What are you supposed to do? Well, once you clear your eyes out, go and find Bonesaw and see what she can do for you. In the meantime, try not to get ambushed by an angry chipmunk, hmm?”

    As we went down the steps outside the cabin, he shook his head in amused exasperation. “I can see I'm going to have to keep an eye on you, once you're in the Nine.”

    I snorted with something approaching amusement. “You still think I'm going to be joining your little play-group?”

    His expression sharpened as he looked sideways at me. “You think you're not? Okay, so you sidelined Shatterbird. That was a cute trick, but it took surprise, and it's not going to work with anyone else.” We approached the truck, where Crawler was keeping the rest of the kids penned up in the back. “Trust me, you are going to be in the Nine. Once the others find out what you did, they'll be twice as careful with you.” Opening the passenger-side front door, he ushered me in.

    I looked up into the cab, then back at him. “Don't you trust me to ride in the back with the others?”

    “In a word, no.” He smirked at me. “I wouldn't have survived as long as I have without being able to learn from my mistakes. You've proven yourself to be both sneaky and resourceful, so I'm personally keeping an eye on you until we get to the drop-off point.”

    Jumping out of the moving truck had been one of the several plans I’d been formulating, but that was okay. I still had a couple of tricks up my sleeve, so to speak. For now, I just hung on as the truck bumped over the rough track leading into the woods.

    The truck wasn’t going all that fast, but it still took ten minutes before it ground to a halt. Jack opened the door and swung out on to the ground. Looking over the seat at me, he plucked the keys from the ignition. Well, ‘steal the truck and drive back to Brockton Bay’ had been one of the ideas I was working on. All I had to do was teach myself to drive. Now, it seemed I also had to teach myself how to hotwire a truck. I knew I should’ve invested in that book I’d seen online.

    Just as I climbed down from the truck, I heard a loud hssssss coming from the far side. Wondering what was going on now, I headed around the truck to find Jack pulling his knife blade from the truck tyre.

    “Really?” I asked, both mildly irritated and mildly impressed that he was going so far with his preparations. “You’re actually slashing the tyres as well?”

    “I really am,” he confirmed. “I don’t know that you can’t hotwire and drive a truck, given how resourceful you’ve been so far. But I’m pretty sure someone with your upper body strength can’t change a truck tyre in the dark, without tools.”

    “Without tools?” I asked. Surely there would be a toolkit in the truck.

    “I left them back at the camping ground,” he said with a snarky grin, then turned and raised his voice. “Okay, you little wastes of oxygen, space and vital organs! Out of the truck! The campground is somewhere off in the woods! Maybe along this road! We’ll have the lights on for you, so all you have to do is get there and touch the flagpole and you’re safe!”

    Having the lights on also meant they couldn’t sneak in and touch the flagpole without being seen, of course. I didn’t know how many of the others had figured that out. As they climbed down from the truck, their expressions showed varying levels of fear from “Oh shit I’m going to die” to “I want my mommy”. I couldn’t understand how they were letting fear rule them like that. Figuring a way out of this, and maybe taking a few members of the Slaughterhouse Nine down for shits and giggles, was where my head was at, right then.

    With that last bit in mind, I wandered up alongside Jack as he watched the kids huddle in a forlorn group at the back of the truck. “So, I’m guessing Bonesaw gave you some serious boosting,” I said casually.

    “Of course she did,” he responded. “Looking forward to your tune-up? I’m thinking of a couple of auxiliary limbs, with knife blades permanently implanted on the ends.”

    “Not really.” I straightened my left arm a little, and cupped my hand backward, toward my wrist. “Well, you’re not dead yet, so they’re obviously pretty impressive.”

    “Yeah, she reinforced my vital organs and major blood vessels,” he said, sidling half a step away from me. “So if you’re considering stabbing me, your blades aren’t long enough or sharp enough to do any significant damage. Just saying.”

    All this messing around had brought the afternoon to a close. The shadows under the trees were now getting pretty dark, so he didn’t spot when I straightened my arm just that little more.

    “Oh, I’m not going to stab you,” I said as the iron bar slid out into my hand. As a continuation of the same move, I swung the bar in a short arc which impacted solidly with his right kneecap. Even as I heard the bone crack, I saw his knife hand come up. Instinctively, I swung again and smacked the knife from his hand. Thrown off balance, he tried to put weight on that knee and went headlong. Impassively, I watched as he face-planted into a pile of leaf mould. Served him right for messing with my summer camp.

    “Son of a fucking bitch!” he half-screamed as he rolled on to his side, pulling his knee up to his chest with both hands. “That fucking hurts!”

    “And now there’s only six people who can chase me in the dark,” I said, sliding the bar back into my sleeve.

    “You are seriously abusing your relationship with me here, Taylor,” he snapped, visibly getting his temper under control. “I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you, but if you keep this up, someone’s going to hit back and you won’t be able to take that without powers.”

    “Well, I was done for now, anyways,” I said. It wasn’t exactly like I could kneecap Crawler like I had my father, after all. For someone whose kneecap had just been turned into a jigsaw puzzle, his recovery time was impressive. Kudos to Bonesaw.

    “Well, points to you,” he said grudgingly, manually straightening his leg out again. “I never said you couldn’t attack us ahead of time, and I really should’ve been on my guard.”

    “Yeah,” Crawer said unexpectedly, his voice resounding in half a dozen tones. “That was funny as fuck. It’s gonna be a blast havin’ you in the Nine, kid.”

    “Thank you, Crawler.” Jack’s voice was tight with anger and pain. He got his good leg under him and stood up, bracing himself on the side of the truck. “I appreciate your input.”

    The tone of his voice told me he meant the exact opposite of what he said. I supposed some people might find that amusing. It was, almost.

    “So what happens now?” I asked. “When do we start?”

    “Any time now,” he said. He looked up toward the western sky, where the last light was doing more to define the horizon than to actually illuminate anything. Raising his voice, he addressed the kids. “There are five members of the Nine roaming around in these woods, and that’s not including Crawler and myself. If they find you, they will kill you. You can split up and hope to slip past them, or bunch together and hope you can outrun all your friends when someone does find you.” He gestured with the knife. “Or you can stand right there while I make steak tartare of you. Your choice.”

    Hesitantly at first, the kids began to slip off into the gathering darkness. I nodded to Crawler and slapped my father on the shoulder, ignoring his muttered curse when I caused him to put his weight on the injured leg. “Guess I’ll go join them, then. See you back at the campsite.”

    Jack Slash gave me an irritated look. “I’ll see you a lot sooner, Taylor. The Nine may be a blunt instrument, but they’re a very effective blunt instrument. They’ve rarely missed, and never against an unpowered target.”

    “Yeah, but they’ve never gone up against me.” If anyone else had said it, it would’ve been cocky. I was just telling the truth. I doubted that anyone who had been targeted by the Nine before had come to the fight as prepared as I was, given their habit of attacking from surprise or going after innocents. Besides, even if fear was a real thing for me, the only thing I had to worry about was being press-ganged into the Nine. And that meant I had options.

    Ducking around the truck, I picked out the largest group of kids and headed in their direction.They were just shapeless blobs in the dimness under the trees, which meant that I was too. This was probably a good thing, because they might decide the whole situation was my fault and try to attack me. Well, to be honest, it kind of was my fault. More my father’s, actually. But it wasn’t like I’d invited him to crash the party at Camp Puckatawney, so screw anyone who tried to put this on me. And I really didn’t want to waste my first kill on one of these little shits.

    With relative ease, I slipped into the middle of the group. I had the switchblade—closed, of course—in one hand and the iron bar in the other, held up alongside my forearm. The butterfly knife was in my left-hand jeans pocket and the clasp-knife in the right hand one. And of course, I still had my secret weapon in reserve.

    “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God,” whimpered one girl, or at least I thought it was a girl. It could’ve been a particularly wimpy boy. I neither knew nor cared.

    “We should run. We should hide,” whispered a boy with a deeper voice than the first. “They can’t search every inch of these woods.”

    “Yeah, they can,” I said. “All they gotta do is wait till sunrise. We’ve got a better chance of reaching the flagpole. They won’t be expecting anyone to actually try it.”

    I was bullshitting, of course. The campground was too tempting a refuge. There would be members of the Nine between us and there, just waiting for their targets to blunder by in the dark. All I had to do was avoid being caught long enough to get to the flagpole. I had zero investment in what happened to the others in the process. If they got away, they got away. In fact, I almost hoped some of them would, if only because it would frustrate the crap out of my father.

    So, it turned out that an excess of confidence held more weight than a dozen logically sound arguments. I would’ve liked to think this was because they were just kids, but I had a strong feeling that this kind of idiocy wasn’t something people grew out of. Well, the odds were that these ones weren’t going to, anyway.

    We skulked along the edge of the track, some of them trying to use the trees for cover while the rest preferred to walk along one of the wheeltracks. I could hear the sticks crackling under the feet of the ones in the treeline, and I stomped on a few myself. In a calculated risk, I stayed a little toward the rear of the pack, on the principle that we’d run into trouble from the front first.

    And then we heard screams coming from ahead and to the right, accompanied by a flickering light through the trees. It seemed that some of the kids hadn’t needed my brand of bullshit to come to the same erroneous conclusion as I’d fostered on the ones in my group. Collectively, we paused, crouching low by instinct. I smelled fresh urine, and calculated that our chances of being detected in the dark had just gone up by a few percentage points.

    “Should we go back?” whispered the same boy who’d wanted to hide.

    “Nah, she’ll be busy. We can sneak past,” I murmured back. I held no ill-will toward any of my meat-shields—I meant, companions—and was perfectly happy for them to survive, just so long as I could go back to Brockton Bay. But if it came to a choice between me or them, I’d pick me every time. I mean, who wouldn’t? I’d be an idiot to do anything else.

    As far as I understood things, the current lineup for the Nine held my father (duh), Shatterbird, Crawler, Bonesaw, Hatchet Face, Mannequin, the Siberian and Burnscar (who I was pretty sure was the origin of the flickering light). I hoped Jack had told Burnscar not to burn the whole forest down, because that could make things tricky.

    Of course, Shatterbird and my father were out of the running at the moment, and Burnscar indeed seemed to be busy, which just left Crawler (who was somewhere behind us), Bonesaw, Hatchet Face, Mannequin and the Siberian.

    “Okay,” said a guy up front. “This is stupid. We should stay right here. They’re just—”

    I never actually learned what ‘they’ were just doing, because at that moment, a blurred tiger-striped form came out of the treeline to the left and disappeared into the trees to the right. With her went the mouthy guy and some other person, who hadn’t spoken until then. Now he was definitely speaking, or rather yelling for help.

    It would only be a matter of time before the yelling would turn to screaming, and I didn’t want our little group to get whittled down any more. At least, not until I was close enough to make a sprint for it. “Shit!” I said, trying to sound fearful. “It’s our only chance! Let’s go before she comes back!”

    There was enough truth in that to get everyone moving. Logically, we should’ve left behind whoever had lost control of their bladder, but I wasn’t overly worried. From the smell of it, a couple had done more than piss themselves when the Siberian did her attack run. I figured the smelly ones would be picked off first.

    The screams faded into silence behind us as we made good time. We took a turn in the track, and one of the guys pointed. “Look!” he whispered. “Lights! The campsite’s just over—aaaaaaahhhh!”

    In one of those miracles of perfect timing, a pair of mechanical hands had shot out of the nearby shadows and grabbed both him and the guy next to me, right when he was in the middle of his inspirational speech. They were dragged offstage to the sound of rattling chains and teenage high-pitched pleading. Given that they were of no more use to me, I put them out of my mind.

    There were only three of us left now, and I tried to stay in between the other two as much as possible. We snuck through the trees, drawing nearer and nearer to our goal. We did the last dozen yards crawling on our bellies. More and more carefully we crept, until we could see the flagpole clearly while still staying out of the light. There was a pile of dirt near the pole, which I figured had been excavated so the Nine could bury some of the kids to confuse the issue about what Bonesaw had done with the body parts of the others.

    “Okay,” I whispered. “When I say go, we go. If all three of us make a break at the same time, at least one of us has to get through. Ready? Three. Two.”

    “One,” someone said behind me. I looked around, and realised that I’d totally lost sight of the situational picture. Kneeling just behind my feet with her blonde ringlets lit up by the campground lights and fresh blood gleaming on her dress, Bonesaw smiled happily at me. I was sure she wasn’t any older than ten.

    Well, crap.

    “Hi,” she said, with a little giggle. “Thanks for bringing these two right to me.” She patted the squirming mounds on either side of her. I looked again and realised these were the two guys who’d gotten this far with me. They were being wrapped up with some sort of gleaming cord by what looked like large mechanical spiders.

    “Uh …you’re welcome?” I wasn’t quite sure what to say. She had me dead to rights, and I could see another spider on her back with its legs resting along her arms. The question was, why wasn’t that spider on me?

    “Oh, that’s okay,” she said in the same bouncy tone. “Now, you’re probably wondering why I haven’t got spiders on you as well.”

    I rolled over on to my side, the better to look back at her. Also, if I needed to throw the iron bar at her, my arm was now free. “The thought had crossed my mind.”

    Her smile widened. It was almost impossible to creep me out, but she managed it. Just a little, anyway. I wanted to ask her how she pulled it off. I had it on good authority from Emma that smiling was not my strong point.

    “Well, it’s simple,” she said, with a hair-toss that I couldn’t have pulled off in a thousand years. “I’m supposed to be a good girl and do what Mr Jack says. But you’re Mr Jack’s actual daughter, so he’ll be spending more time with you than with me. Now, I could kill you or fix your brain so you let me spend more time with Mr Jack, but he’d know I did it and get mad at me, so I’m just gonna let you go.”

    “Won’t he get mad at you for this, too?” I asked.

    “Pfft.” She wrinkled her nose. “He wants you alive. This is the best way for that to happen.”

    “Oh, okay.” I turned back toward the campground. “Any idea where the others are?”

    “Not really,” she admitted. “But my spiders can feel Crawler coming this way.”

    That was as good a reason as any to make a bolt for it. Coming to my feet, I dashed out into the light. As I did, I threw the iron bar overarm toward one of the cabins. With any luck, it would distract the attention of any of the Nine lurking on site. I only needed a few seconds, and then I’d be safe.

    The blood roared in my ears as I sprinted across the open ground toward the flagpole. Ten steps and I’d be safe. Nine. The bar clattered against the wood of the cabin. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four.

    And the the pile of dirt erupted beside me. Even as I tried to twist away, a huge hand lashed out and clamped on to my ankle. I fell, sprawling, the switchblade flying from my hand. My hands reached out, straining. I felt the slightest brush of the flagpole against my fingertip before I was pulled away again. Dirt spilling off of his oversized, scarred body, Hatchet face stood upright, hoisting me by one ankle like a prize fish.

    “Look what I caught!” he bellowed. “Our latest member!”

    “No!” I shouted. “I touched the pole! I won!”

    “No, you didn’t, little girl,” Hatchet Face taunted me. “You lost. I caught you.”

    I was not one for strong emotions. They had no place in my brain. I barely felt anger or hate. It was too much effort to go through. This was why the surge of frustration took me by surprise. I’d been so close to winning—I’d actually, legitimately won—and Hatchet Face was being a big cheating cheater! Now I’d be taken away from Brockton Bay, from where I wanted to be, just because Hatchet Face didn’t know how to play fair.

    I closed my eyes for a long moment, and when I opened them, everything had changed. I still felt anger and frustration toward Hatchet Face, but there was something different about him. Something different about the world.

    Projecting out from Hatchet Face for several yards in all directions was a dirty-grey field that seemed to form a spherical shape around him. At the same time, a glowing red energy wove over his skin and throughout his body.

    In contrast, I had a tight bubble around my head, made up of three different colours. One was white, the second sky-blue, and the third a slate-grey. Waves of Hatchet Face’s dirty-grey field surged against the bubbles, but they held without fail.

    The butterfly knife slid from my pocket and I snatched at it, but missed. Next to go was the clasp-knife, but I caught that. Hatchet Face laughed at me as I struggled to open it—the swivel almost certainly needed oiling.

    I couldn’t push out the sky-blue bubble or the slate-grey one, but I could push the white one out. It didn’t do anything on its own, but I quickly realised that if I locked the white bubble on to either of the other two, I could use it to push them out.

    Following my instincts, I locked the white bubble to the grey bubble, and pushed it outward. Hatchet Face’s dirty-grey field pushed inward, making it harder to expand my bubbles. But I pushed outward anyway, revealing two interesting things.

    The first was that as the slate-grey bubble expanded to cover more of my body, a red weaving of energy could be seen under my own skin. Not as intense as with Hatchet Face, but it was definitely there. I had a strong suspicion that I knew what this meant. A second later, as my arms were covered by it, the suspicion was confirmed as I suddenly found it a lot easier to open the clasp knife.

    And then, as the slate-grey bubble expanded past my own body, the red energy in Hatchet Face’s arm was pushed back. If that meant what I thought it did …

    Pulling an abdominal crunch with my newfound strength, I reached up and slashed the blade down the leg of my pants. The tough fabric parted and I dropped the clasp-knife just in time to catch the machete as it came slithering out of its hiding-place, the wrapping sliced through. Hatchet Face’s eyes widened and he dropped his axe. In a much more literal way than my usual ability to figure people out, I could see what he was about to do—shout a warning and grab for the machete—but before he could act on it, I twisted away and swung the machete at the arm that was holding me in the air. The blade was sharp; I’d made sure of it. It hit Hatchet Face’s forearm, just inside my slate-grey bubble—and went straight through it.

    I fell to the ground and rolled to my feet. Hatchet Face staggered back, his mouth still open but no words coming out. He stared as blood from the stump of his arm sprayed across my face. I wiped it off with my free hand and took a few steps away from him. Slapping the rough wood of the flagpole to leave a bloody handprint there, I turned back in triumph.

    “I win.


    End of Part Three

    Part Four
     
    Last edited: Jan 20, 2019
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  11. Starfox5

    Starfox5 Versed in the lewd.

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    And there's the trigger. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy.
     
  12. steamrick

    steamrick Wisdom is in pursuit, but I'm faster!

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    Yep, the timing of the trigger event was kind of predictable.
     
  13. FreshwaterPlimpie

    FreshwaterPlimpie Know what you're doing yet?

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    Her shard was done with her shit and took the slightest excuse to trigger her.
    Probably cheated by temporarilly boosting her emotions too.
     
  14. DuskAtDawn

    DuskAtDawn Of the Thousand Faces

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    It helps that second-generation triggers are much easier. Frankly, I'm surprised it hadn't already happened by the story's start.

    Like, GG got triggered by getting fouled in a basketball game. (Which she then probably lost due to flight being cheating.) There was probably more to the story than that, but still. Annette dying would almost certainly have done the job.
     
    Last edited: Jan 6, 2019
  15. Darkarma

    Darkarma Not too sore, are you?

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    So if I read this right, trump power to manipulate and transfer near by powers as well as the ability to see them
     
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  16. Index: Power Breakdown
    Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Crossposted from SB:
     
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  17. Gaemnomut

    Gaemnomut Experienced.

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    Hmmm, on the one hand this power looks quite interesting, but on the other hand I'm almost a bit dissapointed that she ended up triggering, especially since Jack will be able to read her now.

    Edit:
    Hmm, those look like fun. Nice combination of the original shards.
     
    Last edited: Jan 6, 2019
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  18. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    She can also read him. Ever hear of Thinker headaches? Yeah.
     
  19. Gaemnomut

    Gaemnomut Experienced.

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    Well, unless he is in the powerstomp bubble. In that case things would suddenly be a bit more one sided. Although getting him inside the bubbleprobably isn't that easy...
     
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  20. steamrick

    steamrick Wisdom is in pursuit, but I'm faster!

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    That makes for a really useful combination with bulletproof costume materials.
    Kevlar excels at turning piercing damage into blunt damage, though it's much less useful against cutting attacks.
    If she can get her hands on tinkertech fabric that's both piercing and cutting resistant, however...

    The main problem with Kevlar is that you'll still get bone bruises and broken ribs if the armor isn't heavy enough to spread the force of the bullet over the entire ribcage, hence why body armor typically includes thick ballistic plates.

    Depends on what she intends.

    Broadcast will only warn Jack if she intends to harm him, I think.
     
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  21. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    If her power lets his power warn him.

    Just saying.
     
  22. GiftofLove

    GiftofLove A Gift From The Heart

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    He can read her, but I bet you with the power nullify he'll find he has a much harder time convincing her of anything.

    After all, there won't be any Broadcast boosts to his words. He'll just be as convincing as any other normal man can be.
     
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  23. C4d

    C4d Getting sticky.

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    Im pretty sure that with how Taylors power protects her by default any power that interact with her physical body will be blocked or at least greatly diminished, which includes broadcasts reading of parahumans since it likely involves interacting with the other parahumans connection point to reach the shard.
     
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  24. Gaemnomut

    Gaemnomut Experienced.

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    That... actually makes a lot of sense.

    All in all her power has a lot of interesting implications. Lisa, for one, might find the power blocking aspect very appealing.
    Not sure how far Taylor will be able to expand her bubbles, but the power dampening effects could be rather powerful in general if she can get close enough to her targets.
    She could, for example, permanently kill Alabaster, or even give others a chance of taking down Crawler. Although that would still be pretty hard given how big he already is.
    She might also be hidden from Cherish's emotional sense and has a possibility of seeing through Aisha's power.

    The 'Detect Carrier Wave' and 'See Intent' aspects are also pretty cool if it can give her advanced warning of where powers will activate. Not quite as op as Jack's imo, but the fact that she is aware of it and will be able to use it consciously is pretty nifty.
     
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  25. GiftofLove

    GiftofLove A Gift From The Heart

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    No she won't. Because she'll be alone with Jack Slash's daughter and have to rely on just her meatbrain to get her out of trouble.

    And she the kind of girl who's always running her mouth. Either out of stress, or for fun.
     
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  26. Gaemnomut

    Gaemnomut Experienced.

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    Eh, as long as they are on friendly terms it should be fine. Her power should still work on Taylor as long as she isn't in the bubble since afaik it mostly relies on external clues rather than direct insight into the other person. So she will likely be able to tell that Taylor wouldn't suddenly kill/hurt her for no reason. With that in mind she might be able to relax for a while in blissful silence while her power gets gagged by Taylor's.
     
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  27. edale

    edale Versed in the lewd.

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    Surprised no one's pointed out that with her powers temporarily nullified, TT's libido would come back with a vengeance.

    As for Taylor's Trigger? Erm... Ack, Shouldn't Hatchet Face have passed out for a second when Taylor Triggered?
     
  28. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Pretty sure it's only a momentary disorientation.
     
  29. doomlord9

    doomlord9 Experienced.

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    On TT's power, unless Taylor intentionally envelops her in the Null Field she will be completely unaffected by it.

    It's the same reason her power works perfectly on Endbringers while everything else is nullified. Her power only targets her memories and rapidly analyzes them. This means that everything is filtered through her senses and memories, given a step removed for her shard not to trigger any blocks because it is not targeting a forbidden source, only the impression of a forbidden source filtered through the very few senses(for a Shard) that she is able to perceive them by.

    Mantallum would be the same way, he shuts down Thinker powers within his AoE, but unless Lisa's brain get within that field her power will run unimpeded because it's not looking anywhere but her own brain directly.
     
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  30. alethiophile

    alethiophile Shadowed Philosopher Administrator

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    So clearly, then, the question becomes how far Taylor can spread her null field, and whether Tt actually has to hug her to stay inside it for an hour or two.
     
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