Two days, and I only managed to almost burn down the house once. That has to be a record for new tinkers. At least, that's what I'll keep telling myself. No I'm not lying to myself. Shut up.
The day after building my Rosarius I spent most of the day reading. Well, reading and thinking over the various ideas the *itch* in the back of my mind provided. It was, in a word, daunting. There were some pieces I didn't understand though. My *itch* showed me a massive warship. One built for conquering worlds. Or destroying them. I tried not to dwell on that bit too much. The confusion in that design was the navigation systems and one of the shielding mechanisms. I knew how to make the shield, the Gellar field, but I couldn't quite puzzle out what it was for. The navigation systems, on the other hand, were just a big hole. There was something meant to go into that hole, but not something I could build. That alone irked me. With great effort I managed to push those ideas to the side. I had no plans on destroying any planets. Yet. After that thought I shuddered, hoping I would never be in a situation where that particular shiny red button looked at all attractive. Aside from the warship, and the other ideas that had such holes in them, I did pick up some decent ideas.
~
After dad got home from work we talked some more. About my powers, about what to do going forward, about joining the Wards. The Wards idea was nowhere near settled. He had been worried about me getting hurt. I had showed him the Rosarius, and explained what it did, though he went glassy eyed part way though. Even with the Rosarius he was not convinced. Still, he hadn't quite said no. Moving off that subject we had talked about my extra organs. It wasn't the most pleasant of dinner table conversation, but it did help us iron out a few things; I's have to change my diet if I wanted the organs to work properly. Dad was a little put off by the, as he called it, 'Eating rocks,' required by my Ossmodula. Still, he did agree to help me adjust my diet, on the condition that I call Panacea the instant anything went wrong. I agreed, if only to give him peace of mind.
~
Last night I realized that there was something missing from many of the ideas in my head. Something I could build. That excited me enough to run down to the basement again, taking the stairs two at a time. I had to get to work! I had to make this substance, this FUEL! This, this, Promethium! I knew I probably had a manic grin as I cannibalized the spare motor oil, some lighter fluid, maybe even some turpentine though I don't quite remember. Either way I ended up with a quarter glass of the stuff in an old whiskey tumbler we'd left down here.
"Perfect!" I was ecstatic, I could start building other things now! Like the... Oh. Like the chainsword. I sat down heavily. I knew the 'Authorities' probably wouldn't look too kindly on a weaponized chainsaw on crack. Still though, the Promethium was useful for other things. I had recaptured my good cheer thinking about the other things I could work on.
Then the glass caught fire. The less said about that the better. I most certainly did not flail and panic in an undignified manner.
~
Dad forbade me from doing anything volatile in the basement. Understandable, if a little inconvenient. Unfortunately, he also was very bad at hiding his laughter the following morning. Personally, if my child had almost burned down the family home I would be...
Hmm. I suppose I would be amused. The locker really had changed me, I realized. Compounding that realization was the fact that I was not dreading school all too much. I could barely find it in me to care about the place. I found a bored indifference to be quite the improvement on the dread I had felt every other day before school.
"Hey Taylor?"
"Hmm?" my dad's voice had broken me out of my reverie.
"You said you're a tinker right? Like Armsmaster?"
"Not like Armsmaster," from what I could tell I was nowhere near the walking multi-tool that he was, "But yeah, close enough."
He nodded and scratched his chin. "I think your best option is probably the wards."
That threw me. I didn't think he'd come around this fast. I narrowed my eyes at him, "This isn't because of what happened last night is it?"
A small laugh escaped before he could stifle it, "Yes, well no. Kind of?"
I waved a hand, hoping he would explain.
"I did some thinking. I couldn't come up with any tinkers that aren't with a major team or a gang." He took another slice of bacon. "The Wards might be our best ticket to Arcadia, and I'd rather you be with the heroes than the gangs. Taylor I want you out of Winslow as soon as possible," his eyes were hard, "If you tell me that you can stay safe in the Wards, I'll trust you. It's worth it to get you out of that shithole."
Wow. Dad really hated what Winslow had done to me. I rarely, if ever, heard him swear.
"Thanks dad, it means a lot." It really did. It felt good to have someone in my corner again. I wished I could express my gratitude more fully, but I didn't really know how. Powers or no powers, I still didn't know how to react to someone helping me. Hopefully, I didn't sound as terse as I thought.
He smiled. A real one too, not the forced ones I had grown so used to. Well, I guess he understood what I meant. He got up from the table, "Well, Kiddo, I need to get to work. I'll call Agent Eldridge and set up an appointment."
The rest of the morning, while only being a few minutes before he drove to work, and I caught the bus to Winslow, we didn't say anything. We didn't need to. Our honest, genuine, smiles said it all.
~
As much as I told myself I wasn't afraid, I still clutched my Rosarius like it was my only lifeline. The first three periods went by without incident, despite at least one of the trio, or their closer hangers on being present in each class. The teachers for each looked at me with pity, and maybe some concern. Apparently they could feel bad about what had happend to me, but not quite bad enough to have stopped it. A pity.
After the relative quiet of the morning, I thought that, maybe, just maybe, the trio had been sated by their actions a few days previous. I stepped out of my third class into a mob of the girls, and some boys, who had tormented me so far. All three of the trio were there, leading the crowd in their game of whispers. It was one of their favorite tactics; they weren't actually doing anything wrong if they didn't say anything TO me. But gossip, whispers, and barbs said AROUND me? Those were all fair game. I thought I would just slip past, be meek like I had always been. Weather their words like I always had.
I tried. I really did. I wanted to just walk away.
But, at the same time, no. That well of calm confidence that I had drawn on before was there with me. I didn't have to take it. Not from them, not from these sheep styling themselves as wolves.
"I hear she eats from the trash," one of the hangers on.
Emma grinned that insipid grin, dripping with venom, "Oh yeah! I bet she even saves all her used-"
I cut her off before she could finish that jab about the locker. I knew where it was going, I didn't need to hear the rest.
"You're weak Emma." My voice reverberated in my throat. It was pleasing, and I knew it to be a tone of command. They all stared at me, somewhat shocked. All silent. The trio instead seemed angry. It was then I realized I was looking down at them. I no longer slouched and slumped, hoping they wouldn't notice me. No, I stood at my full height, half a head taller than even some of the boys.
"What did you say!" she hissed at me.
Sophia stepped forward, "Like that means anything coming from you Hebert. You're prey," she sneered at me, "pathetic."
I couldn't help it. I laughed. One of those hearty belly laughs I head so often growing up around dockworkers. It all made so much sense now. I understood why all this had happened. Why they did all this, why they acted in this manner.
Madison tried to get her claws in too, "What's so funny Taylor? Did you finally crack? Or are you just ON crack?"
A shameful attempt really. She could do better, but then, she was off balance. It didn't deserve a response.
"Really Sophia? This is who you are?" I waved a hand at the whole of her, up and then down, "You think yourself strong? Because you're a predator? Because you think like an animal?" I stepped closer, she stepped back, "You think strength comes from rejecting your humanity?" I turned to Emma, "And you? You were convinced by this?" I pointed at Sophia, the disgust plain in my voice, "Then tell me Emma, why have you never broken me?"
She stammered. I didn't let her gather her thoughts.
"TELL ME!" I roared at her.
She flinched away, but said nothing.
"You're broken, Emma. I don't know what happened to you, but you are a shell of what you once were. I only wish I had seen it sooner." I softened my features, "I pity you."
Then I whirled on Sophia, "And YOU! Predator? Prey? You are nothing to me! You are a pathetic weasel! A petty tyrant ruling over a Kingdom sycophants." She backed away from me, I advanced. The crowd parted behind her as she moved, until she hit the bank of lockers lining the hall.
I snarled at her, "You will never escape Sophia," my voice was low, but still had that resonant quality, "You can fight, you can claw your way up out of the muck, you can run, you can hide, but no matter what you do," I pushed her against the lockers with a finger against her collar bone, "You know what you are." I turned to the crowd, with some last parting words for Sophia called over my shoulder, "Fight, flee, I don't care. To me you're still nothing but an animal."
I was almost surprised to see the rest of the crowd still locked in place, frozen in... fear? No, it was something else.
"You all!" I pointed at Emma slumped against a wall, silent tears running down her cheeks, then Sophia, against the opposite wall, eyes wide with an animalistic fury, "Are these the leaders you so desperately want to follow? Do you think they will make you greater? Or will you be reduced to nothing? Will you throw away your humanity? The one thing any of you can have any Pride in? Be my guest."
With that, I turned on my heel and left. None followed me.
~
I spent my lunch hour having a panic attack in a bathroom. Oh how the mighty have fallen. The Rosarius dug grooves into my hand, painful with how hard I clutched it.
"Did I really just do that?" I said, hyperventilating. My mind warred with itself, part telling me that I had made a mistake, and they would only hurt me more for this. The other part told me that this was long overdue. That part told me that I should never let such bullies, such wastes of humanity who had done nothing to earn respect or fealty, rule over me in any capacity. That side eventually won.
"Holy shit." I remembered the looks they had given me. After really thinking it through, my only regret had been my lack of a camera. My good cheer was cut short by the bell. Apparently I had spent too much time panicking to eat. Damn.
~
The remaining class periods were surreal. No one payed any attention to me, save for the furtive glances the sent my way when they thought I wasn't looking. Were they afraid of me? Hmm. Turnabout is fair play I supposed. I wonder how I had never seen it before, that my tormentors were so... lacking.
When I left the school, it was in high spirits"What do you mean 'cleaning house?'"
Some of my good cheer evaporated upon getting home. Apparently the PRT couldn't meet us until Friday afternoon. Two days from now.
"Agent Eldridge didn't really say much more than that. Honestly, they're probably just trying to put their best foot forward." Dad didn't sound very convinced.
I sighed. "Alright, I can survive a few more days." I gave my dad a smile, though I knew it was a weary one, "I'll be fine."
He still didn't look convinced, or if he was, he certainly wasn't comfortable. "Alright kiddo, just... Be careful okay?"
I nodded, and headed up to my room. I was still confused about what had happened at school and wanted to mull it over a bit. The itch to make something was mercifully quiet. I took off my backpack, and surprised myself by having no qualms about putting it in my room. It was mercifully clean after all. What a day! I smirked at the memory. Then I flopped back onto my bed and stared at the ceiling for a while. I would have tried to bring out that voice again, but I didn't want my dad to walk in on that. He would never let me live it down. So Instead I thought. And thought.
And didn't get much of anywhere. What was I? I had powers now, and I had thought they were limited to my extra organs. So I was a brute right? But then all these ideas had flooded my mind, which would make me a tinker. I'd never heard of anyone being a brute AND a tinker. And then there was what I had done at school. Was that a power? As I thought, I figured that it probably was not. Perhaps the well of calm and confidence I had drawn on had come from my powers, but the reactions of my tormentors were not supernatural by any means. Had I been in their shoes and seen someone who I thought weak put on a display like I had, well I would have been shocked too.
Then a cold pit of dread settled in my stomach. What if they retaliated? What if they ruined my chances at leaving? No! I nipped those thoughts in the bud and cast them aside. There was nothing they could do stop me. I had realized it when speaking in the hallway, and it still held true now; I was stronger than any of them. With that thought in hand, I grabbed a book off my shelf, and lost myself in a fantasy of knights, dragons, and sorcerers.
~
I slept. I could not remember when I had slipped form consciousness, but sleep I did. I dreamt of an eternal war among the stars. Of family and betrayal. Of death, and of the war I still fought beyond. I dreamed of monstrous daemons and dark ruinous gods, of legions armor clad and devoted to the Imperium. MY Imperium. I dreamed of golden livery, skulls, and a two headed eagle watching over all. I dreamed of the enormity of the universe, and just how significant one individual could be in the vastness of the void. Then I dreamed of great beings coiling in the sky, raining pieces of themselv--
I woke in a cold sweat, chilled by the parts of my dream that I could not remember. I thought of what I did remember, the gold, the Imperium... the daemons. If the thought of the daemons hadn't woke me, then what couldn't I remember that had frightened me?
I clutched my Rosarius, no longer nearly as certain that it could protect me from the things that lurked in the dark, beyond sight.
"I have work to do."
~
As it happens, I woke at nearly midnight. I was willing to explain away my unusually early awakening as a symptom of falling asleep at merely five o'clock. Even so, I had skipped dinner, and midnight was hardly the time to get anything worthwhile done. I wandered downstairs, hoping that the agitation would leave if I moved my legs a little. No such luck. Fumbling in the dark I managed to stub my toe on a chair. Stifling loud cursing, I didn't want to wake my dad up, I managed to find the light-switch and relieve myself from the darkness and its toe-stubbing might. Dad had left a note on the table, saying that dinner was in the fridge for me.
"I love you dad," I whispered to myself.
Before eating I ran back up to my room to grab a notebook. I may not have been able to tinker effectively at midnight, but I certainly could draw some of the designs in my head. I couldn't very well wear the armor I would want to build. Golden and tough it may be, I would have to be built like a dock worker, and then some, for that to work. Perhaps a scaled down version? My power supplied a blueprint for an armor set scaled more to my body type. And build for a woman. Score! As I drew, I wondered how these designs might be used. Would the PRT use the biotech in their troops? Maybe incorporate some of my designs into their armor? "Hmmm." I tapped my pencil against pursed lips. Something about the PRT troops just didn't seem right for the armor designs. At least, not the high tech ones.I could possibly make ceramite plates for them, but it would be little different in design form their current armor. And as far as weapons...
I had decided on a shock maul as a personal weapon. After all, I had to have some way to apprehend dastardly villains, and I wasn't willing to play with poisons and tranquilizers. With some of the things I knew I could create, that would end poorly. Very poorly. A bolter wasn't exactly, well, gentle. My thoughts once again drifting to what others might do with my designs, I paled.
"NOBODY gets a melta!"
~
The following morning was unpleasant. I had wandered around the house until around three in the morning, then fallen asleep again. I still woke to the sound of my alarm, but having it go off after three hours of sleep filled me with a hatred for the infernal contraption and the noise emanating from it. To make an unpleasant morning worse, I hit the button on the clock to shut the damn thing up. Hard. I needed a new clock. I could appreciate the nice lesson that I did not know my own strength, especially that it had come before any sort of violence I might have visited upon Emma and her cronies. Still, not an auspicious start to my morning. Stumbling down the stairs and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes I said, "I hate my life."
"Everything okay kiddo?" Dad already had a plate of pancakes out for me, and tea. Bless his heart.
"Yeah dad, I, um," I mumbled a bit.
"Sweetie? What's wrong? Speak up."
"I broke my alarm clock." My feet were suddenly very interesting.
My dad laughed, hard.
"Come on dad, it's not that funny."
He had a wry grin that I hadn't seen much since we'd lost mom, "Oh yes it is!" he choked out betwen laughs.\
Grumbling, but failing to keep a smile from my face, I sat and dug into the breakfast he'd left out.
Not such a bad morning after all I thought.
~
My last day at Winslow was... unsettling. Nothing happened. The day started with whispers in the halls, half about me and half about Sophia. Apparently the entire school had heard about my outburst the previous day, though no one had recorded it, thankfully. That would cause me nothing but problems. Everyone seemed split on the issue; some wanted to talk to me, some hated me, some just had no idea what to make of the upset of the queen bee, Emma, and some seemed afraid of me. Compounding the issue were the rumors that Sophia had been expelled.
I didn't know what to think about that. Part of me wanted rejoice that one of the trio had finally gotten their due, but then why would the other two be relatively unpunished? The more I listened the more the rumors seemed credible though. It looked like the rumors came from the track team after Sophia hadn't shown up to practice, and her name hadn't been called on roll. I din't pay all that much attention during my classes. Mr. Gladly tried to engage the class, but floundered when he came up against the social chaos brought about by me standing up to the trio, and Sophia's absence. Math, happened, though I don't remember what exactly was discussed. English, usually my favorite class, went by the mental wayside as well. Really, the whole morning was a blur right up until lunchtime.
It was my last day, and damn it I was going to eat lunch like a normal student for once. I sat at an unoccupied table. After all, I wasn'ta bout to forcy my presence on any of the other students. As amusing as it might have been to watch them squirm a bit, I figured it would have been too much trouble for me. I was quite enjoying my PB&J, and not enjoying the hushed whispers and glances my way when someone surprised me.
"I'm sorry."
I knew the voice. I looked up, rigth into the eyes of none other than Madison. So much for enjoying lunch.
"What do you want Madison? I thought I was clear yesterday." My voice carried an edge that I was, quite frankly, proud of.
"Look, Taylor, I know I'm the last person you want to see--"
"Third last." No point in letting her have that particular illusion.
She sat down across from me, "Right, third last, still--"
I looked her dead in the eye, "Madison, if you know that you're on the top of my list of people I do not want in my SIGHT, then why are you here?"
Funny how much power words can have, she looked like I had just backhanded her. I would say that I did not take any pleasure in seeing the look of hurt on her face, but then I would be lying.
"I need to know," she'd clearly thought about this, "you said all those things about Sophia, and Emma, but you didn't tear me apart. You ignored me and tore right into them. Why? Why not tear me down too?"
That, was actually a good question. It gave me pause as I thought on how I had felt in the hallway. I really had ignored her. She had tried to join in on the insults and I had bowled right past her to tear into the other two. Hmm, well they say a little honesty goes a long way. I told her the truth.
"Madison, Emma was my best friend for years until she betrayed me. Sophia shoved me into a locker and left me to die for all she cared. What did you do? Act like a child? Make up lies about me? Maybe even joined in on some of the schemes the other two came up with."
She opened her mouth to speak, but I held up a hand, "I'm not finished. You're as guilty as they are, but you're different. Sophia is broken inside, I think. Something happened to make Emma betray me. But you? You're normal. Pathetic even. You've never done anything important, or worthwhile. I have a history with them. You? You're just a few steps above everyone else in this place. A sidekick. An extra." Looking into her eyes, I knew everything I said was true. More importantly, she knew everything I said was true.
"Listen to me very carefully, Madison. I do not accept your apology. I will not forgive you until you have earned that forgiveness."
"How? What do you want me to do?"
I smirked at that, oh how the tables have turned, "No, Madison, it's not going to be that easy. You have to figure it out. You have to become that person. And you will not have any help from me on the way." I started packing up my things, there were only a few minutes left in the lunch hour, "If you take only one thing from this, try not to be an insufferable bitch your whole life. Now I'm sure you'll understand when I say I hope I never see you again."
I didn't wait for a response. I didn't even look back.
Damn that felt good.
~
1.5
The car's engine cut off, waking me out of a slight doze. We had arrived at the PRT building.
"Taylor, honey, you're sure about this?"
He was looking at me, his gaze showing me apprehension. Somehow, I knew he wouldn't stop me if I said yes. Just the same, he must have been worried for me. Worried that I might be putting myself in danger, that he might be letting go of the last family he had left. I knew that pain all too well, though at the time I didn't consider how that fear could have resonated so viscerally in me.
I leaned over and hugged him. "I'm sure dad, I have work to do, and this is the safest way."
I could almost see the gears grinding in his head. He wanted to protect me, and he knew this was the best way, and yet it hurt him that the best he could do was let me into the hands of strangers. I understood his pain.
I understood a great many things about my dad that I hadn't any notion of before.
I gave him a reassuring, I hoped, squeeze before letting go. "Trust me dad, it's gonna be okay. Besides, if I join the Wards, they have to follow through with the Arcadia thing."
He gave me a look that said that he knew I was trying to comfort him and it wasn't working. "Taylor, I have the Arcadia deal in writing, they were doing that anyway."
I shrugged, "Insurance then?"
He chuckled but his heart wasn't in it, "I suppose, come on then. Let's not be late."
We stepped out of the car just as thunder rolled across the sky. The storm had rolled in while I had dozed in the car I guessed. Not exactly an auspicious beginning. Fat drops of rain started falling just as we made it inside.
I had been to the Rig before, or at least the parts that were accessible to the public. I had gone in elementary school... with Emma. It was a class trip and we had all been dazzled by the exhibits in glass cases and highlight reels playing on screens around the room. It had felt like a museum far more than a place of business. The PRT building was nothing like that. There were metal detectors we would have to walk through, and beyond them just a bland white desk, with a plainclothes PRT agent ready to take questions. Other than the armored troops walking to and fro, the place looked like an office building. A sterile office building.
Dad and I each removed our metal bits and sent them through the x ray to the side of the metal detectors. We each came up clean, eventually, though dad forgot about his belt buckle.
I had worried that my Rosarius might trip some sort of sensor, but it just drew me a funny look from the agent watching the x-ray screen. I realized, belatedly, that an Iron Cross with a skull in the center might have looked like E88 paraphernalia to the agent. If he thought I was a gang member, he didn't press the issue, and waved us over to the reception desk.
"Mr. And Ms. Hebert?" The receptionist had a friendly, if a bit professionally detached, voice. He slid over two laminated cards, complete with metal clips. "These are your visitor passes. Go ahead and have a seat over there," he gestured to the chairs along the left wall, "Agent Eldridge will be down shortly."
We didn't have to wait long. I was a little surprised that our appointment was with Eldridge again, but then if I were running the show I'd want the new parahuman to see a familiar face too. He popped his head out of a door and motioned for us to join him. He and dad made idle conversation on the way back to a meeting room; how was work, how had the last couple days gone, had I recovered from my hospital visit. I pulled my sleeves down a little at that last question. I was a bit subconscious about my scars, and the reminder of the hospital visit was not a pleasant one. Eldridge noticed my discomfort, and dropped that topic.
Once we'd arrived at an empty conference room and taken seats, dad and I on one side of the oblong table, Eldridge on the other, we got down to business.
"So," Eldridge laid his hands on the table, fingers laced together, on top of a folder labeled 'T. HEBERT,' "what can I do for you?"
My dad opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it and gave me a look that said, 'this is your show kiddo.'
"I'd like to join the Wards."
Eldridge didn't seem surprised, "I would caution you against that."
My eyes narrowed. I thought the hard part would be convincing my dad, not the PRT. "Why?"
He opened the folder with my name on it, "Let's get a few things out of the way. First," he held up a finger, "My boss, Director Piggot, has given me standing orders to recruit you during this meeting. I don't agree with those orders. I think you have more options available to you than joining to Wards," His smile was sad, "being a Ward can be a rough gig, and I wouldn't want you to charge headlong into danger because you thought it was the only way to be a hero." He held up a second finger, "Second, it says in here that your powers manifested as the addition of five extra organs, making you a brute, and likely not a powerful one. Definitely not suited for combat, or search and rescue. If you have other powers, that might be different, but to the best of my knowledge your powers resemble Aegis, but without the flight." He put up a third finger, "And finally, we're making sure that transfer to Arcadia is going through, Wards or no Wards. You don't have to sign up and put yourself in danger just for that. You still have the option of a normal education and career."
My dad had a thoughtful look on his face, "But I thought the Wards weren't required to fight villains?"
Eldridge nodded, "True, but members of the Protectorate are, and the Wards program exists, in part, to groom young parahumans to join the ranks when they come of age. In any case, why do you want to join the Wards? If you want to be a hero you can do it in other ways, in other professions even."
"The PRT has resources I need. Joining the Wards is the safest way for me to do what I need to do."
Eldridge rubbed his chin, "Alright, I've fulfilled my moral obligation to warn you away. Is there anything I should mark down in your file before we get the paperwork started?."
I smiled at that. "I'm not just a brute. I'm a tinker."
I was disappointed. His face twitched slightly, but that was it. No goggle-eyed shock, no mouth hanging open, no eyes widening. I did NOT want to play poker with this guy.
"Prove it."
"What?"
He blinked, "I'm sorry, that came out wrong. There's never been a documented case of a cape triggering with brute abilities, then manifesting tinker abilities as well. At least, not that I know of. I'm sure you understand that I'm a bit skeptical. Also, a few years back someone tried to bomb a Protectorate HQ by masquerading as a tinker, so I would like to see a demonstration before I mark it down and send you off to the Rig," he coughed, "the Director is kind of a stickler for proper paperwork."
"Ahh," I thought briefly about asking him to shoot me, the Rosarius would protect me after all, but somehow, I thought that gunshots in the PRT building might not go over well.
"That might be a bit difficult."
"Oh? Tinkers usually have already whipped up a death ray out of a toaster by the time they come to us."
I held out my Rosarius for him to see, "The first thing I built was this, and the second almost burned down our house," dad held back a snort of laughter, I glared at him, "I've been holding off on building anything else because I either don't have the materials I need, or don't have the safety equipment I'd like."
"So why not test that?" He pointed at the amulet.
"You'd have to shoot me."
That got a reaction, a raised eyebrow, but at least it was something, "How about you tell me what it's supposed to do? We can head down to the firing range if we have to."
"It's a shield generator, after a fashion."
Dad had been staring at me since I'd mentioned shooting. I realized, belatedly, that this was the first he had heard what the Rosarius was actually did.
"So why not place it on an object and fire at it?" He sounded honestly curious.
I shook my head, "This one is designed to be active when on someone's person. Someone has to be holding it for the shield to work."
"That's an odd condition."
"Would you want an always active personal force field generator that stopped you from touching it?"
"Fair point, would a projectile ricochet?"
"No. The shield bleeds off the kinetic energy of the projectile."
"Alright, I think we can test that here. Let me call in my lovely assistant," Eldridge touched his earpiece, "Eldridge here, could you send Aegis down to conference room 1-D? Thank you." He looked me in the eye, "Are you really confident this will work? I doubt Aegis would much enjoy being shot if it doesn't."
I gave a firm nod. I knew it would work. Of course, I hadn't tested it, but that wasn't an issue, right? The niggling feeling of doubt grew, and grew, and grew, until I clamped down on it with the inner well of calm. Even having done so, the doubt was still there, it just wasn't spiraling into panic anymore. Well, I thought, if it doesn't work then this meeting is going to get very interesting.
The door creaked open, "Hi, I'm Aegis."
Wow, he got here fast, I thought.
My dad, ever the gentleman, stood up and shook the Ward's offered hand, "Danny Hebert."
Aegis looked to me. When I didn't respond for a bit he prompted me, "And you are?"
Oh. Right. I had been just a little bit star struck by an actual superhero, in full costume no less, walking into the room. A part of me said that I should have been beyond that. Another part, a smaller one, was squeeing. I stood up quickly, and very awkwardly, "Taylor! I'm Taylor." I must have been bright red, having embarrassed myself like that. I added that to the growing list of things that my dad would never let me live down.
Aegis, for his part, didn't make anything of it. "Good to meet you," he shook my hand without crushing it, "now what did you need my help with?"
"Sorry to do this, Aegis, but I need you to stand over there and get shot."
Aegis sighed heavily, "Why don't you ever call me to talk about my experience, or to give tours? All the other agents do," he pointed an accusing finger, "I swear, it's just you. I'm not your personal punching bag."
"True, but this way you get to show off to your latest prospective teammate. Besides, with any luck, that thing will stop the bullet," Eldridge pointed at my amulet.
I couldn't see Aegis' face, but I could hear the smile in his voice, "Well, you've got me there," in a stage whisper to me he said, "I really do like to show off."
I looked between the two of them. Despite the words exchanged, they both had relaxed posture, and seemed perfectly friendly to each other. The PRT was a strange outfit, it seemed.
I handed Aegis the Rosarius, though I wasn't entirely comfortable leaving it someone else's hands, "Put it around your neck, it will activate on its own."
"Oh jeez, skull and cross? Glenn's gonna hate that. Assuming you join the Wards that is."
I frowned, "That's the hope, who's Glenn?"
"Don't worry about it, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise."
"Uh, I'm not really comfortable with this," dad looked at me, "not that I don't believe in you, Kiddo, but this seems really dangerous."
"It's alright Mr. Hebert," Eldridge removed a slingshot and a small rubber ball from a pocket, "we're not going to use guns. I just called Aegis because he loves to help me with these demonstrations, and he happened to be in the building."
Aegis had already taken position at the far side of the room, and was now chuckling, "I'll be fine, I'm pretty tough, just cover your eyes, wouldn't want the ball to put someone's eye out."
"Ms. Hebert says it won't ricochet," Eldridge drew back the elastic, "ready?"
"Ready, fire away."
Eldridge fired the ball. The projectile, inches away from Aegis' body disappeared in a blinding flash of light. For a moment, no one said anything.
"Alright. You're a tinker. I'll get the paperwork. Aegis, keep them company?"
I was elated, though, one question remained, "Why did he have a slingshot in his pocket?"
Aegis just laughed.
~
My Rosarius back in hand, I spent the time asking Aegis questions. Apparently, Eldridge was a special sort of PRT agent. One of the few cleared to know the secret identities of the Wards, hence why he was the one sent to the hospital after Amy had reported that I had triggered, and the one I was meeting with today. He also explained that the Wards were all aware of each other's real identities. Apparently, that bit of policy, at least here in Brockton Bay, was to facilitate cooperation between the Wards when not on duty. It made sense to me. After all, it is a lot easier to be ready to cover for a fellow ward, or give them an alibi if you knew who they really were. He did say that there was one exception to that rule, but that it wasn't important. I did think that was a bit suspicious, but before I could press the issue Eldridge returned with the paperwork.
"Now, Taylor, there's not too much for you to sign here, most of it is for your dad. After everything is signed we'll arrange transport to the Rig so you can meet year teammates, and get a look at what kind of facilities you'll have available."
The paperwork didn't take as long as I expected. I had lacked appreciation for just how much practice my dad had at reading and interpreting contracts and legalese. Reading through the packet, explaining the parts I had to sign, and then actually signing everything only took us around forty-five minutes. Eldridge took the packet, shook hands with both of us, and said he'd be in touch.
My dad gave me a hug goodbye, it had been explained that while I was cleared to go to the restricted areas of the Rig, he was not, "Be careful Kiddo, and have fun meeting your teammates."
I hugged him back, "Don't worry, dad, I'll be fine. They're superheroes right?"
"Right," he stiffened, "Jesus, Taylor, when did you get taller than me?"
"What?"
He let go of the hug, took me by the shoulders and gently held me at arms length. "Stand up straight and look me in the eye."
"Holy shit!" I couldn't help the expletive. He was right, I had to look ever so slightly down to meet his gaze.
He smiled and ruffled my hair, "They grow up so fast. Now get going kiddo, let's not keep the superhero waiting."
I followed Aegis to a side entrance and an unmarked van that would take us to the Rig. All the while, the butterflies and giddiness over my acceptance were warring with the calm satisfaction in this next step towards making the creations in my mind real. Neither Aegis nor I talked on the ride over, I was preoccupied thinking of the armor I wanted to build, and of the materials I wanted to use. I think he understood that I was slipping into the tinker fugue, and didn't want to disturb my thoughts. I thought that was very nice of him.
~
I didn't pay much attention to how we got to the rig, distracted as I was. My memory only resumed recording my surroundings in any sort of detail when I had followed Aegis into what looked to be a common room for the Wards.
"Hey Kid! We've got a new tinker. Want to meet her?"
A voice came out from a door to my left, "Really? Hell yes I want to meet her, hold on!"
From the same doorway, I heard clatters and clangs of tools being shifted around and at least one yelp of pain. Probably from running into one of said tools. A boy, about my age I thought, with pale complexion and short brown hair emerged from the room. Behind him I caught a glimpse of a thoroughly disorganized mess of tools and scraps. This had to be Kid Win, the resident tinker of the Wards.
"Hi!" he stuck out his hand with great enthusiasm and a grin to match, "Welcome! I'm Kid Win. You're a tinker too? What's your focus? How did you get those scars? They're badass." His mouth kept moving nonstop through the handshake.
I flinched at the mention of the scars, but he had called them badass, and that felt nice. As for the rest...
"Wow, uhh, okay. I'm Taylor, I don't have a cape name yet. What's a focus? I don't want to talk about the scars, thanks though," I counted off each question on my fingers, "okay I think I got em all."
Kid scratched his head sheepishly, "Yeah, sorry about that. I get excited sometimes."
Aegis cocked his head, "Only sometimes?"
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Carlos. You knew exactly how this was going to go, introducing me to a new tinker with no warning. Dick."
Aegis seemed to remember something, "Oh that's right," he took off his helmet, revealing a relatively handsome Hispanic features underneath, "In here we don't have to worry about the public walking in. I'm Carlos, he's Chris. Sorry, didn't mean to have you at a disadvantage."
They both seemed genuine. It wasn't something I was used to. Admittedly, if they had been girls I probably would have been a lot more on guard. Most of my tormentors had been girls, while the guys generally ignored me, or limited themselves to gossip and laughter. It had been a while since I'd spoken to guys my age that weren't Greg Veder, and these two were a step up. Or several. In any case, I tentatively decided that I liked them.
"Right, yeah, I'm Chris, sorry. Every tinker has a focus, it's like a guiding theme to your work. Armsmaster makes stuff smaller and efficient, Squealer makes cars, you get the idea."
"What about you?" I saw Aegis, Carlos, wince when I asked.
Chris looked at his shoes, "I, uhh, I'm still figuring that out." He sounded hesitant to say that. Like he was ashamed of it.
I thought for a moment, and realized that I couldn't think of a theme that bound all the ideas together. At least, not any sort of concept. "I don't know what my focus is, or at least, I don't really know how to explain it well."
Some of the tension in Chris's shoulders, tension that I didn't think he knew was there, evaporated. "I'm not the only one? Ohthankgod."
Carlos chimed in, "I dunno, that force-field was pretty impressive, you sure that's not your focus?"
I nodded. "Definitely not force fields, or even conversion fields. Too much of the stuff in my head makes no sense with that. Second thing I made was an extremely combustible gel."
Chris whistled, "I'm impressed. Seems like you might end up with a pretty hefty bag of tricks if you can do chemical tinkering and make a conversion field right off the bat."
As we talked, a thought occurred to me; maybe there wasn't a concept that bound all my blueprints together, but there was an aesthetic that a lot of it had in common. I realized a good analogy. "You guys have seen 'Star Wars' right?"
Both of them blinked at the apparent non-sequitur. The both nodded.
"Yeah, even the way Aleph handled the prequels. Why though?" Chris asked.
"Imagine if a tinker could build stuff from the Star Wars movies. They could make a lightsaber, but they could also build an AI and a robot body too, right?"
Carlos scratched his temple, "That would be an odd focus, but I guess that could make sense. Are you saying that you're a Star Wars tinker?"
I laughed. Star Wars tinker. As if that could ever be a thing. "No no, just, I think that's kind of what it's like. There's all these ideas crammed in my head, but I think the theme to it all might be more like that."
"Huh," Chris was a little lost in thought, possibly thinking about his own tinkering, and what his focus might be, "Wait! Does that mean you could build a lightsaber?!"
"No! I just said-" an image flashed into my mind. Hmm, a power field generator, no blade, just the hilt.... I felt my eyes go wide, I COULD build a lightsaber! "Paper! I need paper!"
"Oh shit." Carlos knew what was about to happen. I didn't care.
"Got it!" Ahh, bless his heart, Chris had brought graph paper, perfect for sketching a blueprint, and mechanical pencils. Perfect!
An hour passed, much of it filled with furious sketching and technobabble. People who weren't Carlos had entered and left a couple times during, I had paid them no mind. Chris and I were entirely too engaged with the lightsaber idea. He had been fascinated with the power field as an idea, but sometime through he had grabbed his own paper and pencil and idly doodled some ideas of his own, while watching my work, as we chattered he explained that he had an idea for a universal power cell that might work in his hoverboard and laser pistols. I was overjoyed that he had gotten some sort of inspiration from my work, in turn I had jumped form the bladeless power-sword over to a power cell of my own. A micro fusion reactor. We were starting to wind down, in part because our pencils were running out of lead.
"Good god are they still going?" That voice was unfamiliar. I whirled around to see the telltale armored form of Clockblocker.
"No, they noticed you this time," that was Carlos, grinning, "I think they're coming out of it."
"Finally!" A girl's voice this time, from the couch farther into the room. I turned to see vista, sans mask, reading a book on the couch.
Well, I thought to myself, this is awkward. "Umm, hi. I'm Taylor."
Clockblocker took off his helmet, "Dennis, you may know me as the supremely handsome Clockblocker."
"Only thing supreme about you is how annoying you can be." Vista called from her place on the couch. She shut her book with a snap and walked over, "Hi, I'm Missy. I like 'Vista' better, though."
I shook her hand. Funny that she acted the oldest, aside from maybe Carlos, she couldn't have been more than twelve from what I could see.
"It's good to finally have another girl on the team." She smiled warmly.
Chris piped up, "What about Shadow St-"
"She didn't count!" Vista and Dennis said in unison. Then looked at each other in surprise.
Carlos chuckled at that. Though something bothered me.
"Vista, don't you mean 'doesn't' count?"
Carlos answered for her, "Ahh, Shadow Stalker has been," he paused, searching for the word he wanted, "reassigned."
"Oh," I thought nothing more of it, "Well it's nice to meet you all." I wasn't even lying. It was nice to meet them. I couldn't describe if I tried how much I had missed that feeling.
Carlos smiled before turning to head out the door, "Well it's just about my turn for console duty. I'll send Gallant in. Everyone else, try to make Taylor feel at home alright?" Dennis raised his hand, "Before you ask, the answer is probably no. Be nice."
Dennis pouted. And not the sexy kind of pout either, just the sad kind. "And here I was going to ask if you loved me. How could you, you monster. Scorning a fair maiden such as me?"
Vista smacked Dennis from across the room. "Stop it." She was trying so hard to look stern, but everyone saw that she was trying to hide a laugh.
They seemed like good people. For once in my life, I thought things might turn out okay.
~
A/N: I'm gonna cut it here. As I have said about basically everything I have ever posted, I'm not happy with it, but it's going up anyway. In any case, next post is responding to some of the questions I've been seeing. Next chapter after that is probably gonna be an interlude, I'm thinking either Danny, Gallant, Eldridge, or someone else. Let me know what you guys think. Toodles :)
Edit: I think I cleaned up Eldridge a bit, and included a couple bits I had wanted in here before. IN any case, I think I'm comfortable enough with this to start work on that interlude.