Previous Post

NO PLUMBER ALLOWED: Shroom 3-5 + Cutscene

Next Post
no preview
DESCRIPTION

DWU Offices

Taylor didn’t manage to catch the alarm clock before it exploded that morning. All the ash washed off in the shower, but it was a shame about the carpet.

Danny wanted to offer her a ride to school, but he took the pipe home yesterday so the truck was still at the Docks. It was annoying, but she didn’t seem to mind. It bothered him though.

He still didn’t have the full story about Emma and Taylor, and with everything else going on he’d let investigating that fall by the wayside. He needed to talk to Alan, but there just wasn’t time. Taylor never talked about school and seemed at best disinterested, and at worst actively evasive when he asked, always changing the subject assuming she acknowledged the question at all.

Danny had the sense of looking at an unfinished puzzle. Emma and Taylor falling out, Taylor being uncomfortable discussing school, he already knew how much of a craphole Winslow was since it wasn’t exactly a secret that it was basically a gang recruitment office; that had been true even when he had been a student there, before all the parahuman stuff started appearing. The real clue that had him start piecing things together was when he overheard one of the guys discussing his own kid who went to Winslow High. The man, Gerald, had apparently asked his son to keep an eye on Taylor on Danny’s behalf, which was incredibly touching to Danny. He’d give Gerry a raise if they could afford it.

Hm. Actually, he should make a note. If business starts picking up again, make sure Gerry gets a nice bonus.

But anyway, the young man had actually refused. And that was how Danny learned that at Winslow, sticking up for anyone, and especially Taylor, was considered social suicide.

He wanted to kick up a fuss, so very badly, but he remembered making calls in his more sober moments about why Taylor had come home with bruises, and he’d been stonewalled hard enough to drive him back to depression at the futility of it all. Danny couldn’t imagine that had changed. And he couldn’t confront Taylor about it; the grounding may have been over, but things were still tense and he didn’t want to drive another wedge between them so soon, not when she was so clearly reluctant to talk about it.

So what was he supposed to do to help her?

It was this problem among many that sat heavy on his mind as he looked over more potential jobs for the Union. That at least was going well. Being seen working with the PRT like they had been was drawing attention to the DWU again. Lou and a couple others had taken Toymaker’s little excavator to go dig a drainage ditch… somewhere, Danny didn’t have the contract in front of him at the moment. Phil and Kurt were doing some hedge trimming in the park near Captain’s Hill, Lacey was being paid by the city to clean up graffiti in the area around Medhall, Bruce was driving delivery trucks again…

They weren’t any big or glamorous jobs, but they were jobs and Danny was no choosy beggar. He was aware that he was basically running a temp agency, but there wasn’t any actual dock work to do, and while Taylor wanted to help the Bay he couldn’t see a way for her to bring shipping back to the port.

Of course, who knew what she could do? Apparently she’d dug a tunnel to the center of the world by accident. If she was doing it on purpose she could probably pluck a star out of the sky.

There was a knock on his office door, and Danny set the current sheaf (a job offer to do some roadwork, with the stipulation that they’d only pay half what they would give Fortress Construction for the same job) aside and called for them to come in.

The muscular black man who stepped inside was a surprise, and only vaguely familiar. “Hello young man, what brings you here?”

“It’s true that the cape Toymaker works around here, right?” he asked.

Danny sat up just a tiny bit straighter, eyes sharpening. “She does, yes,” he confirmed. It was well past the time for denying it. “What about it?”

“I never really got a chance to thank her after she helped me out last week, and I haven’t been able to find her again since no one will tell me where she is,” he said. “I was starting to think she didn’t actually hang out here at all.”

Danny looked at him again. The kid stood stiffly at attention, clearly trying to look professional and not quite hitting the mark. He wasn’t meeting Danny’s eyes, but rather staring at a point about a foot over his shoulder. Danny recognized the tactic, since it was one he’d used himself against the mayor more than once. He was nervous and trying not to look like it.

Abruptly Danny remembered where he’d seen him. “Oh, right, right, you were the one Toymaker fished out of the pipes, right?” He gestured to the armchair across from the desk. “Take a seat, son. What was your name?”

He hesitated before saying, “Brian, sir.” He took the seat and fidgeted awkwardly. “I was still kind of out of it when she brought me back here, and she was gone by the time I could see straight.”

“I see,” Danny said. “And why do you want to speak to Toymaker, exactly? To thank her, you said, but as much as she’d appreciate it, it seems a flimsy excuse to still be searching for her a week later.”

Brian looked away. “...It’s. Kind of stupid, but… My sister.”

“Your sister?”

“She’s… she wouldn’t appreciate me calling her a cape geek, but she’s obsessed with the parahuman scene, and when she found out I got saved by Toymaker she went kind of nuts,” Brian said, flushing. “And when she gets an idea in her head, she’s stubborn as a mule. She wanted an autograph and she’s better at being annoying than I am at not being annoyed.”

Danny smirked. “And that’s the only reason?”

“I do want to thank her,” Brian clarified. “I just didn’t want to bother her. But I’m not going to get any peace from my sister until I do,” he finished, apologetic.

Danny considered this for a long moment. Taylor hadn’t had much to say about the boy she’d met in the sewers, she’d been more focused on the piranha plants. Understandably so, he thought. But that left him with little to go on regarding Brian’s character.

However, Danny prided himself on his ability to read people. He’d lived in Brockton Bay his entire life, in a job that required him to get a read on people to determine their trustworthiness. There had been quite a few attempted moles from the various gangs that had tried to get through Danny, and more often than not he sniffed them out in a single interview. The current DWU may have been small, but Danny knew each of them personally and he’d have vouched for each and every one of them.

Brian gave him a strange feeling, but it wasn’t a bad one. He sensed nothing but honesty here.

An idea occurred. One that might solve several problems at once, even.

“How old are you, Brian?” Danny asked.

Confused by the change of subject, Brian said, “Eighteen,” and Danny would have almost believed him if not for the way his shoulders got even stiffer. That wasn’t a problem, he would hardly be the only high school dropout Danny worked with.

“You have a job?”

Brian grimaced but nodded.

“Would you like another?” Danny paused to let that sink in and considered how best to say his next line. A few months ago the words that were about to come out of his mouth would have sounded completely insane, but being a Tinker’s father can change a person. Before Brian could properly respond, Danny continued. “Have you ever considered becoming a henchman?”

The young man looked at him like he’d gone mad. “I beg your fuuuu-reaking pardon, sorry, I mean… What?”

Danny laughed.

------------------------------------

Winslow High School

Another day of school, another day stoically ignoring everything around her. Mrs. Knott was nice, Mr. Quinlan was boring, and Mr. Gladly…

Actually his class was embarrassing today. He spent the day talking about the local cape scene, and actually showed the video of Toymaker jumping across the city.

For the first time in a while Emma managed to break through Taylor’s wall of indifference by bringing up the fact that Taylor’s dad was working with Toymaker, which meant Taylor had to answer questions about her cape identity as best she could without giving anything away.

God, she hoped she didn’t give anything away. She was not used to the attention from her classmates, and Mr. Gladly’s “encouragement” only made things worse.

She ended up saying that she hadn’t met Toymaker herself, but she’d run into the Bob-ombs now and then, which luckily managed to direct the conversation towards the other video where Grape was painting, which Taylor hadn’t known about.

Good for him. She was glad Grape had a hobby.

When the final bell rang, Taylor almost managed to give Emma’s posse the slip. She made it all the way to the front doors when Sophia suddenly appeared in front of her.

“Taylor, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were avoiding me,” Emma said, smiling nastily.

“That might be because I’m avoiding you,” Taylor suggested, not bothering to turn away from Sophia. “Get out of the way, I have things to do.”

Sophia sneered. “Yeah? How much do you charge for that?”

Taylor blinked, taking a second to parse that. When it clicked she just rolled her eyes. “More than your mom does, Sophia, now get lost.”

The crowd let out various noises of scandal, shock, and delight at the verbal jab, but Taylor only noticed Sophia snarling and taking a swing at her. She ducked, not quite getting out of the way as she rushed her way past. Sophia hissed when she hit Taylor’s shoulder and got zapped, and Taylor stumbled through the door and onto the school’s lawn.

“That was a mistake, I should not have said that,” Taylor hissed under her breath. “Shouldn’t have said that, shouldn't have said that…”

“And I’m going to make you regret it, bitch!” Sophia said darkly, trying to massage the feeling back into her hand.

Emma came out, gleefully looking forward to the fight, as did everyone else.

Taylor hand itched to pull out her hammer, but she wasn’t dumb enough to carry it to school. The only thing she allowed herself to bring was her badges, and they weren’t much use on their own, even if it seemed like Sophia got a worse-than-normal zap. And her boots, but jumping on her head seemed like a bad idea for a number of reasons.

Given that she’d faced a giant Audrey II lookalike yesterday, she couldn’t find it in herself to really be afraid of Sophia. But without any of her equipment she didn't fancy her chances in a fight. Taylor knew she was in better shape than before, but she didn’t know by how much…

As it turned out she wouldn’t be finding out just yet, because a shadow fell over Taylor and Sophia backed up, looking startled. Taylor turned to find Brian looming over her, glaring at the other girl.

And then Rachel also appeared over his shoulder, one of her dogs flanking her and doing its best to look intimidating.

Brian glared silently for a moment before turning his attention on Taylor and smiling. “You Taylor Hebert?”

“...Yes?” Taylor said. She glanced at Rachel and then back at him. “What are you doing here?” she hissed quietly.

“Your dad asked me to pick you up. Everything alright here?” he asked pointedly, popping his knuckles.

Taylor pursed her lips. “Did he, now? And what’s she doing here?” she asked, gesturing to Rachel, who simply stared back.

“I… don’t know,” Brian admitted. “She just kind of showed up.” He grunted. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Taylor could agree to that sentiment easily enough.

-----------

Emma and Sophia watched them go, not able to keep from staring in abject confusion.

“What fuck just happened?” Emma whispered. “Who was that guy?”

Sophia shrugged, agitated. “You’d know more than I would probably.”

They walked back to their lockers and the student body began filtering out in earnest, now that the show was over.

“Since when did Taylor have beefcakes like that at her beck and call?” Emma said, the merest hint of a whine in her voice that Sophia didn’t comment on. “The Dockworkers are all middle aged men,” she went on, “There’s no way that guy was really sent by Mr. Hebert.” She brightened up. “Maybe he’ll do something horrible to her!”

Sophia looked around and lowered her voice. “I don’t know about the guy, but that girl might be the real deal. I’ve seen her around during my patrols walking dogs, and sometimes that includes this huge wrecking ball thing that apparently belongs to that Toymaker cape.”

“I can’t believe the Union has a cape,” Emma said. “I refuse to believe it. That’s not how things work, if you’re a cape you go to the Protectorate or the gangs, that’s the way the world works. Why would a cape go to the DWU unless--”

Emma stopped in the middle of the mostly-empty hall so suddenly Sophia ran into her. “Ems, what--”

“Oh my god.” Emma looked pale. “What if…”

“What?”

“What if the Dockworkers… have become a gang? And Mr. Hebert is the boss?”

The two of them thought about that for a long moment.

“...Emma, that’s really stupid,” Sophia said at last, though she didn’t say it with much confidence.

“Yeah,” Emma said, feeling faint. “Silly me.”

--------------------------------

The Docks

Ordinarily, Taylor would have gone home and then through the pipe in the basement, since that was a shorter trip to her workshop and also she could change into her outfit in her room. This time she had company, and so she had to go the long way.

Although Rachel kind of already knew who she was, didn’t she? So it was just because of Brian. Wait, did he know? He was sent by Dad, and everyone in the Union knew basically, so…

“So, why were you at Winslow, really?” she asked.

“I meant what I said,” Brian answered. “Mr. Hebert asked me to pick you up. He said if I walked you home, he’d introduce me to Toymaker.”

Taylor smiled uneasily. Rachel just looked confused.

“What do you mean, isn’t she--”

“--At her workshop?” Taylor cut in, looking Rachel in the eye and making a motion across her throat. Rachel gave no indication of understanding.

Brian raised one eyebrow. “If she was, I couldn’t find it,” he said, shrugging.

Rachel rolled her eyes. “I wanted to ask to borrow your dog.”

Taylor blinked. “You what?”

“Your dog. I wanted to take her to do something, but Cici said I had to ask your permission first.” Rachel looked at her with a bland expression, oblivious to Taylor’s worry.

“Ah, no, Cici is Toymaker’s dog,” she said with emphasis. “Toymaker’s.

Rachel nodded. “Yes.”

“Wait, hold on. Cici is a dog?” Brain scratched his head. “And the dog said you needed permis--what?”

“Cici is a very good girl who respects others,” Rachel said. “She didn’t want to do anything that her Boss might not approve of, so I needed to get Taylor’s approval first.”

Taylor felt like pulling her hair out. “You mean you need Toymak--oh whatever. What do you need her for?”

“I want to kill Hookwolf.”

Brian and Taylor both stopped midstride. Brian hovered, one foot an inch off the ground, while Taylor stumbled forward and nearly fell over. “You what?!”

Rachel was unphased by the paired shouting. “You’re a hero, right? You agree that abusing dogs is evil, right? I want to stop that, and Hookwolf runs dogfighting rings.”

Brian groaned. “Jeez, lady, do you even know what a secret identity is? I was trying to be tactful about it, and then you throw something like that out there…”

Taylor whipped around. “What?

Brian had the grace to look apologetic. “Well, you’re the same height, same build, same voice… And you’re wearing your hair the same, too, which is what clued me in. I wasn’t going to say anything, but…” He gestured helplessly at Rachel, who was watching blank-faced.

Taylor ran a hand through her hair and found that she was indeed wearing it in the same high, loose ponytail she wore in costume. She’d gotten so used to the style she hadn’t even noticed. Why hadn’t Emma commented on it, that felt like something she would have mocked her for? Maybe she did and Taylor didn’t notice.

Taylor rubbed the bridge of her nose as they came to the gate to the DWU area. “I need to process that for a bit. As for you,” she said to Rachel, “I’ll deal with you later.”

“I need an answer soon,” she insisted. “I only know where he’s going to be for the next week, after that I’ll have to hunt him again.”

“What are you even doing hunting down capes?” Taylor asked. “I wouldn’t want to fight Hookwolf, and I’ve actually got powers.”

Rachel just looked confused again. “Do you not know--”

“Boss! Boss!”

The three teens looked over to see Nobel running as fast as his short legs would allow, which was surprisingly fast indeed.

“Nobel, what’s--”

“Boss, you gotta come quick,” Nobel said, speaking fast. “Tess has made a colossal mistake, and we need to deal with the fallout. The PRT isn’t going to be happy, not at all.”

“What’s wrong?” Taylor asked. “Did something happen with the mushrooms?”

“What? No, those are fine. It’s way worse than that, Boss.”

Brian and Rachel exchanged a look of mutual confusion behind Taylor’s back. Taylor just looked befuddled.

“What could she have possibly done?” she asked.

----------

Five Minutes Later

“Princess!”

Taylor flinched at the address that rang out the moment she stepped through the door. Seven Toads of varying color waved at her from around the garden warehouse, and Taylor couldn’t do much more than gape in shock.

A yellow-capped Toad with an enormous grin skipped over and immediately started shaking her hand hard enough to make it feel like he was trying to dislocate her arm. “Princess Thistle, I’m so glad to meet you! Wow! I’m Cheers!”

“Yo, Princess, check it!” A purple-spotted Toad held up a red Shroom. “We got the first whatsits coming in! The chief says most of them will be done in a few days!”

An orange Toad juggled garden tools in the corner. A pink-spotted one with strange mushy pigtails hummed happily as she tended the flowers. A blue one stared forlornly at nothing while he watered.

And Tess was trying to hide behind a large planter.

Tess T. Toad,” Taylor ground out. “What did you do?

She poked her head over the pot and scowled defiantly. “I needed the help! I got to sleep seven whole hours last night while these morons tended to shrooms, so I don’t regret anything!”

The blue Toad moaned miserably. “I knew the Princess wouldn’t like us…”

Taylor fidgeted. “No, I--Look, I--Oh,” she stuttered, before giving up. She wandered over and rested a hand on the mopey Toad head, and he leaned into her touch. “Okay. Okay…” Taking a deep breath, she looked back at Tess T. “You realize I was fully intending to help you out today, and now we all have to deal with this. How did you even do this?”

Tess shrugged. “I fiddled with the TWEAKer thing. Rabbit did something that made power for it, I don’t know how it works.”

“He made a video,” Nobel said. “The one with Grape painting.”

“Oh, I guess that would do it,” Taylor acknowledged, nodding.

Brian blinked, thoroughly lost. “It would?”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were still there.” Taylor sighed. “Okay. I’m sorry I left you in the lurch like I did, Tess, and everyone else, I’m sorry I reacted like that. I’m happy to meet you all.”

A red Toad walked into the room carrying a bucket of dirt on his head. “Oh hey, it’s the Princess.”

Taylor frowned. “Okay, why are they all calling me that?”

Tess smirked. “What, not a fan, Princess Thistle? I told them that’s what I called you, and I think they took me at face value.” She smacked the orange Toad, who dropped a trowel on his foot. “They’re all just as dumb as Rabbit said they’d be.”

“I’m not dumb!” Cheers declared happily. “I can talk just fine!”

Tess sighed. “I know.”

Taylor closed her eyes and counted to ten. “...Okay. Alright. Okay. This was unexpected, but I knew I was going to make more Toads eventually. I just wasn’t expecting any so soon.”

“What are you going to do when the PRT finds out?” Brian asked.

Taylor looked at him, confused. “Why would that matter? They want the Mushrooms, and this will help us grow them.”

“I don’t know how common knowledge it is,” Brian allowed, “But I’ve heard that the Director has a thing against biotinkers. More than normal, that is.”

“But--” Taylor paused to consider that. “Well. She seemed okay when I met her, but I guess she was a little tense?”

“She was kind of giving me and Rigel the stinkeye, Boss,” Nobel added.

“Well, I’m sure we can work this out. We just need to not tell anyone until I have a good excuse worked out.”

“Ahem.”

Taylor slowly turned to see the PRT trooper who had been there the entire time, waving and looking apologetic. “...Oh.”

“Sorry,” Officer Joshua said, “But I still need to do my job.”

Rachel grunted, slapping the door frame. “I’m leaving now. Let me know about the thing.” And she walked off, only slightly too slow to be running.

Taylor let her head fall. “Great.”

--------------------------------------------

PRT ENE HQ, Meeting Room C

The local Protectorate sat in uncomfortable silence as the meeting room was filled with a squeaking sound, coming from the stress toy Director Piggot was currently strangling to death. It gave one last pitiful wheeze before her nails pierced its flesh. She took a grim satisfaction in hearing its dying gasp, then threw it across the room where it bounced off the wall and into a waste bin. Then she opened a drawer on her desk and pulled out a fresh one.

“Okay,” she said, once she felt like her blood pressure had dropped to acceptable levels. “I’m calm. Tell me once more.”

Armsmaster resolutely did not acknowledge the odd behavior and simply stood at attention, staring at the wall across from him. “Trooper Joshua, who is the day shift guard at Toymaker’s Mushroom Garden, has reported that an additional six Toads have appeared and begun tending the crops.” He pulled up a list on his visor. “They go by the names Cheers, Gloom, Fly, Guy--”

“I truly couldn't care less what they call themselves,” Piggot said flatly. She crushed the stress toy again, and then set it aside to slowly regain its original shape.

Armsmaster looked disgruntled, but continued. “According to Joshua, the original Toad, Tess T., was growing exhausted from the constant work and created the others as backup, using the TWEAKer.”

“So the creature made more creatures,” the Director said, too calmly. “More of the same type of creature. It self-replicated, you could say. A self-replicating Tinker creation, a biological one. It reproduced.”

The gathered heroes and troopers shifted uncomfortably.

“Emily, I think you need to calm down,” Thomas Calvert warned. “Remember your blood pressure.”

“I actually asked for, and received, information regarding a Toad’s natural reproductive cycle,” Armsmaster said, pulling out a sheaf of handwritten paper. “I’m no biologist, but it’s nevertheless a fascinating read.”

“There’s nothing natural about it!” Piggot snapped. “I don’t care what methodology that damn toadstool used, the fact is that one became seven in a single night, and I won’t stand for it!”

“It is concerning,” Battery agreed. “Thankfully the Toads seem harmless compared to her other minions thus far, but numbers can still overwhelm eventually. Toymaker has proven cooperative so far, and her products are too useful to give up. I think it might honestly be best if she just stuck to growing mushrooms from now on.”

“Hold on,” Armsmaster protested. “The mushrooms are a boon, but they are hardly the only thing Toymaker is capable of, or even the most useful we’ve seen thus far. Forcing her to abandon her Tinkering--”

“--That’s the problem exactly,” Piggot said. “The list of items she gave us include teleporters, landscaping--Armsmaster, that pipe system of hers has completely overtaken the city’s sewer system! We need to put our foot down now before she makes something she can’t control. Or worse, something she decides to point at us.”

“You don’t actually think she would do that,” Miss Militia said, aghast. “I’ve gotten no indication that she’s anything other than genuine.”

“She’s a powerful Tinker who’s willing to work with us,” Calvert said. “Don’t forget that she’s giving us the first crop basically for free, and not to mention the fire flowers. Remember, Emily? Troopers throwing fireballs?”

The Director scowled, but didn’t answer. It was still a very attractive thought, true, but old paranoia was telling her to shut it down.

“I suspect that the making of minions is in fact her primary skill,” Armsmaster said. He looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable for a moment, then said, “Personally, I would sooner throw one of her minions against the gangs or the likes of the Nine before sending in one of our troops. There are merits to a mass-produced, expendable army that’s on our side.”

Militia made a face, one matched by Assault, neither of them liking the idea very much. They hadn’t interacted with the constructs much, but it had been enough to make them certain of their personhood.

The Director could see it in their expressions, that they saw the bombs and the mushrooms as people. That was dangerous. You couldn’t do that, it was too much of a risk that would never pay off. You couldn’t trust them. And Emily didn’t trust them.

“Listen,” Calvert said. “I think this is above all of us. Toymaker is simply too valuable an asset to make any kind of hasty decision about, alright? You need to take this to Costa-Brown.”

Piggot’s scowl deepened. And yet, some part of her recognized that what he was saying was correct.

“Fine,” she managed. “I’ll send a message up the chain.” She let herself collapse back into the chair. “Where’s the brat right now, anyway?”

“She’s speaking with Clockblocker and Vista in the Wards’ chambers.”

“And what of the minions?”

Renick stood and cleared his throat. The black bomb and the original Toad are with Toymaker and the Wards, the other four bombs and the… Chomp are being watched in the Docks. The rabbit hasn’t been seen yet, and Toymaker stated she hasn’t seen him today. As for the new ones, they’re currently being investigated.”

----------------------------

PRT Holding Cells

Cell 1

Cheers cheerfully spun in place on the tip of one toe, apparently unaware that he was being imprisoned.

“Let me know when the recording starts! I’ve never sung before but I know it’s going to be great!”

The PRT guard watching him sighed heavily. “For the least time, this is not a recording booth, it is an observation cell.”

“Observ--? No no no, I don’t like being watched!” Gloom wailed. “I look like a mess, I haven’t showered, oh no, my hair must look so greasy!”

Neither Cheers nor Gloom had any hair. The agent sighed.

----------

Cell 2

“Could you state your names for the record?”

There wasn’t actually protocol for getting the names of Tinker constructs, but Agent Warner figured it might get them talking. And boy did it.

The purple Toad snapped his fingers and grinned. “The name’s Fly, yo! Know why?”

“I--”

“Because I am one fly amanita, baby!”

The orange Toad had found a clown nose somewhere and honked it to get attention, waving his arms frantically.

“Oh, and that’s Guy, but enough about him, let’s talk about me, I’m amazing! Hey, wanna see me do a kickflip?”

Agent Warner frowned, unamused. “No. Can… Guy, not speak for himself?” he asked, as the orange Toad continued to honk at Fly in agitation.

“You don’t want that, my dude, trust me.”

“I assure you, I do.”

Fly shrugged, covering his ears. “You’re funeral yo. Hit it, Guy.”

Guy beamed and opened his mouth, and let forth the loudest, most grating greeting Warner had ever heard, such that it nearly knocked him off his feet.

“HELLO MR. SECURITY PERSON MAN! WOWEE, IT SURE IS GREAT TO KNOW THAT WE CAN WALK THE STREETS IN SAFETY KNOWING THE PRT ARE ON THE CASE, A-HYUK!”

Fly slapped a hand over Guy’s mouth. “You have got to learn some volume control, my Guy.”

“BUT I--”

“No! Shut!”

Guy honked at him, producing an airhorn from somewhere, and the two Toads started roughhousing.

Warner rubbed at his ears, trying to soothe the ringing.

---------

Cell 3

The Agent stared fixedly ahead, ignoring the Toad hugging his leg.

“Oh mon dieu, how lucky am I to have such a big strong man guarding me~~” Fleur T. said. “Fuyez avec moi, mon amour. Let’s ditch the red one and find a room alone, oui?”

Nass popped up from behind the Agent, rifling through his wallet. “You really shouldn’t carry hundreds on you, buddy, that’s just asking to be robbed.”

“Wha--hey!” The Agent jerked, stepping forwards to snatch his wallet back, only to stumble when Fleur didn’t let go and Nass danced back.

“Whoops! Gonna have to try harder than that Agent…” Nass inspected his driver’s license. “...Johnson.”

“Ooh~~” Fleur crooned. “I have a name! Agent Johnson, why do you not look me in the eye? Do not be afraid of my love,” she said, batting her eyelashes.

Johnson kicked her off and jerked his wallet out of Nass’s hands, sprinting out the door and slamming it behind him. A moment later the locks clanked into place.

“Phooey,” Fleur pouted.

--------------------------------

Armsmaster glanced over the initial reports, expression stony. “By all accounts they’re mostly harmless. Just annoying.”

“Thank heaven for small miracles,” Piggot muttered. She grasped aimlessly for the stress toy, and missed.

“Here you go,” a shy voice whispered, placing the toy in her hand.

Piggot grunted thanks, then swiveled to see naught but empty space next to her. No one else seemed to have noticed anything, so she forced herself to pretend nothing happened.

“I need a drink so badly,” she said under her breath. Out loud, she said, “Alright, I think that I can handle this. I just need to impress on her that any more biotinkered nonsense isn’t going to--oh for heaven’s sake, Calvert, what do you want now?”

----------------------

Timeline A

“I think perhaps the best thing to do here is to practice discretion,” Thomas said, steepling his fingers. “As I’ve said, Toymaker brings too much to the table. We can’t afford to alienate her. Emily, I know how you feel about Tinkered lifeforms, I’ve been there, but Toymaker at least views them as people. Attempting to limit her like that could be a mistake, not least because we would be losing out on a potentially invaluable resource.”

The Director grimaced. “Need I remind you, Commander, we haven’t actually gotten anything out of her yet. If I shut her down, it’s like nothing ever changed.”

“That would be breaching our contract with her, Emily, it would be foolish to--”

“So is letting a teenage Tinker play god!” she snapped, shouting to be heard over the squeaking toy before it popped again. “No more. I’m not going to let Brockton get overrun! Not again.”

Timeline dropped.

-----------------------

Timeline B

“I think it might behoove you to speak with Toymaker herself,” Thomas said, steepling his fingers. “My time in business has shown me that meeting someone in person is the best way to get the measure of their character. Perhaps a talk with her might help you relax your stance.”

The Director grimaced. “It’s not her character I’m worried about. I’m sure she’s as good a kid as any teenager can be, but there’s no guarantee her creations will be the same, given how much free will she gives them.”

“With respect, Director,” Armsmaster cut in. “I haven’t met these new Toads yet, but up until now all of her creations have come across as normal people, appearances aside.”

“That’s not really a point in their favor,” Piggot muttered. At least, not coming from Armsmaster, she thought privately. The man wasn’t exactly known for his social acumen, so how would he know? Judging by Calvert’s grimace he thought much the same. “But fine. I’ll talk to her. Meeting adjourned, for now. Armsmaster, you come with me, she likes you.”

“Yes Director.”

She made her way out and down the hall, the armored hero following behind her.

As they turned the corner towards the Wards’ quarters, Armsmaster’s steps slowed down enough that the Director actually didn’t have an issue keeping up. This put her on edge again, as he rarely thought about her difficulties, and Piggot certainly wasn’t going to ask him to slow down.

“Director.” Armsmaster hesitated, another unusual occurrence.

“What is it?” she asked, when he didn’t speak again.

The hero came to a halt and turned to face her. He looked around to make sure that the halls were empty, then removed his helmet so that he could look her in the eyes. Piggot was growing concerned now, as Armsmaster tended to avoid eye contact outside of public relations. “Have you had a chance to read the mission report from yesterday?”

“Only the summary,” Emily said. “I was going to look through it today before this nonsense happened. The sewers were overtaken by green pipes and there were plant monsters. I figured it was one of Blasto’s escaped experiments and we were lucky it got lost in Toymaker’s maze.”

Colin grimaced. “That was my initial assumption as well, but Toymaker displayed in-depth knowledge regarding them, calling them Piranha Plants. She insisted that she didn’t make them on purpose, but she assumed that since they tend to live in pipes they simply spontaneously generated. After we fought the central mass back, the plant matter crawled back into a single pipe from which they’d been sprouting, one that was of noticeably different make than the rest.”

It sounded like Piggot had been correct to be paranoid. The Toads were harmless, but-- “If this plant was a result of Toymaker’s powers, then I was right to be concerned.”

Colin shook his head. “I don’t think it was, though. Air flowed out of the pipe, smelling strongly of ozone produced by strong electricity. I dropped a camera into the pipe before we left, and after seeing Toymaker back to her workshop I returned to pick up its transmission.”

He took a deep breath.

“I think that it’s a Case 41.”

Emily squinted, trying to remember which one that was. “Isn’t that one of the ones that were written up after Professor Haywire--oh, no.”

“Correct,” Colin confirmed. “Cases 40, 41 and 42 were written in the wake of contact with Earth Aleph as instigated by Professor Haywire. Case 40 refers to contact with a parallel dimension directly adjacent to our, where only a single point of divergence has kept them from being one to one.”

Emily folded her arms, trying to ignore the pit of dread opening up in her stomach. “And 41?”

“An entirely hypothetical that, unless I’m wrong, has never actually happened. Contact with a completely different world with its own people and culture distinct from ours.”

Emily stared at him. “How certain of this are you?”

“It is entirely possible that I am wrong,” Colin agreed. “What I saw were stormy skies and ruined castles of a distinctly European design. Nothing I recognized, but it could be somewhere in the world and the electrical storms were interfering with the camera’s geolocator. However,” he went on, “Toymaker seems fairly certain that her pipes were growing in search of a pre-existing pipe system to connect to, and if it found one, there’s only a limited number of things that could mean.”

He put his helmet back on while the Director processed that. “Damn. Now I really do need to go to the Chief Director, that needs proper investigation to confirm it.”

“I’ve already contacted Dragon, and she is sending me one of her remote camera drones to send down the pipe. It will be able to determine how safe or not it would be to go through the pipe ourselves, and we can formulate a proper plan of action from there.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea. We don’t want to let anything else crawl through to our side.”

“There’s one more thing I think I need to address,” Armsmaster added. “It is only a theory, and I’m less certain of this than I am of the pipes entering another dimension, but it bears stating.”

“Go on.”

“If Pipes already existed in this other world, then Toymaker’s other creations might as well. Including her minions. And if that is the case, what does that mean about our approach to her?”

She didn’t know. What would they do if they went to another world and found aliens cloning humans without knowing they existed elsewhere? It wasn’t something she’d ever had to think about, nothing she’d ever even entertained. “...This is too far above my paygrade, I think,” she groaned, rubbing her temples.

“It raises many questions about the source of powers in general, as well.”

Emily thought for a moment longer, but then decided to stop. There wasn’t anything she could do about that, so all she could do was focus on her current situation. “We’ll shelve that for now until we have more information. Don’t tell anyone else until I’ve talked to Costa-Brown.” She let her shoulders drop for a moment before reaffirming her stance. “Let’s go talk to Toymaker and act like nothing’s changed.”

“Ma’am.” Armsmaster turned and continued down the hall.

Piggot followed after him, thinking. “...What do you, as a Tinker, think I should do about her making minions?”

Colin didn’t outwardly respond, but she knew him well enough to wait until he had an answer ready.

“As a member of the Protectorate,” he began, “I am alarmed at the idea of a Tinker who can produce intelligent soldiers seemingly at will. As a fellow Tinker, I am fascinated by what she’s done so far and wish to see more, as I’ve already been able to improve my own gear after studying hers. If she needs minions to better allow her to invent…” he trailed off. “My personal recommendation is that she be allowed to create minions under PRT supervision. Tell us what she’s making and how to combat them if they go rogue. Perhaps do the same with all of her inventions, in fact.”

That felt still too lenient to her… but it was probably the best she was going to get. “I’ll take it under consideration.”

--------------------------------------

Wards Area

“So how do I look?” Clockblocker asked, posing. Toymaker had given him a Γ Emblem, and now he was decked out in black and purple, with the faces of the clocks on his suit having yellow marking the hours.

Vista hummed, tilting her head. “I don’t know why, but I kind of… hate it.” She was wearing the L Emblem, which was more understated since she was already wearing green. It simply replaced the white in her costume with blue.

Clockblocker unclipped the badge and handed it back. “A shame. I guess we should leave the purple to you, huh?”

Toymaker chuckled. “Probably for the best, yeah. Do you want to try another? Oh, or how about an FX badge? I bet it gives your power a sound effect.”

Clock perked up. “Oh yeah? That could be fun, what have you got?”

“Let’s see… oh. Maybe not. I’ve only got bells, squeaks, and stone slabs falling over. None of those really match molecular stasis, do they…” she rummaged in her pockets, looking for loose scrap. “I bet I could make another, with like some sci-fi sound. Maybe something like a lightsaber turning off, and then when they unfreeze it’s the saber turning on…”

The two Wards stared. “Uh, what?” Clock asked.

Toymaker looked up. “Oh, would that be a problem? Are those sounds trademarked? You probably can’t use them in an official setting, can you?”

“No, well, probably, but no. What do you mean about the molecule thing?” He gestured at his costume, specifically at the clocks. “I freeze things in time. I mean, I know what those words mean, I guess that’s basically the same thing…”

“It’s why we get paired together so much,” Vista added. “I’m space, he’s time.”

“Well, I guess functionally it’s the same as time manipulation, but mechanically it’s not the same thing,” Toymaker explained. “Do you have a pocket watch? Or even just a timer?”

Wordlessly, Clock stood and went to a drawer against the wall, coming back with a pocket timer with Aegis’ name written on the back in marker.

She accepted it, approving. “Oh, it’s already red, that’s good. Tess, Nobel, do either of you have a screwdriver?”

Tess rolled her eyes and pulled a small tool out of her apron, handing it over. Nobel looked at her oddly. “What?”

“Why does a gardener have a screwdriver?”

“I adjusted a panel on the TWEAKer when I used it, it was about to fall off.”

“I’m still kind of annoyed by that,” Toymaker said vacantly. Before the Wards’ eyes, she disassembled the watch and put it back together. At one point, she pulled a piece of Mushroom out of her breast pocket and peeled a thin strand off the tan part, and using it to replace a seemingly arbitrary wire. “This isn’t going to last more than one use, I’m still using the C-grade shroom here, but it’ll do for a demonstration.”

She handed the watch back to Clockblocker, and despite watching her make it he had no idea how it had gone from digital and square to round and analog.

“Give it a try!” she said cheerfully. “Oh, wait.” She took the Feeling Fine off of her overalls and handed it to Tess, who pinned it to herself. “Now go.”

Feeling foolish, Clock clicked the button, and then everything turned gray except him, Vista, and Tess T.

He blinked behind his mask. “Hey, what the heck?”

“Please, Clock, allow me,” Vista said. She took a deep breath and shouted, “What the fuck?!”

They waited, but Aegis didn’t call out from his room for her to watch her language.

“Hmph.” Tess poked Nobel in the side, sending him tipping over. He rolled onto his side and then froze in place again.

Clock stood and ran to the door. The panel lit up when he touched it, long enough for the door to slide open before going gray again. The frozen faces of Director Piggot and Armsmaster stared back at him, her hand raised to open the door herself.

“Whoa…”

“I’m really glad she’s on our side,” Vista said with emphasis.

“I wish Shadow Stalker was here, I’d finally be able to sneak up on her,” Clock mused. “How does this even--”

The Stopwatch finished counting out sixty seconds and rang, and time unpaused.

Director Piggot gave a wordless shout as, from her perspective, the door went from closed to open without any of the in-between steps. “What in the--?!”

“Oh, uh. Hey, Director,” Clockblocker said, sheepish. “Uh, Toymaker made a thing.” He waved the Stopwatch, showing it off, and it fell apart in his hand.

Piggot looked down at the debris on the ground, then raised a brow at the Ward in front of her.

“I’ll clean that up,” he volunteered, and went to find a dustpan.

The Director cleared her throat and stepped over the broken watch. “Toymaker.”

The young Tinker shrank back. “Director.”

“Armsmaster and I have been discussing things, and he’s managed to convince me that leaving you to your own devices is still the best option.” As Toymaker started relaxing, she continued. “However. A few conditions. From now on, you don’t make more of… these,” she said, waving her hand at Nobel and Tess. “No more living things without running it through me first. In detail. What they are, what they do, how to take them down.”

Nobel stepped forward instead. “That sounds fair.” Toymaker looked at him and they seemed to have a silent conversation before the Tinker sighed and nodded.

“What else?” she asked.

The Director looked at Vista and nodded towards the hall. The girl took the hint and left.

“Toymaker, you don’t seem aware of it, but you’ve been making things difficult for me.” So very difficult. “Between your minions making more of themselves without your knowledge and your pipes growing out of control, I--we, the PRT--need more insurance that you won’t do anything ill-advised.”

Toymaker shifted, looking uneasy. “Like what?”

“I want to know who you are. Your real name and address.”

Toymaker reeled back in shock, and Armsmaster flinched as well. “Director, are you sure that that’s--”

Piggot held up a hand, cutting him off. “No one but me and you will know, Armsmaster, and as long as she doesn’t make a threat of herself that’s how it will stay. But Toymaker, you’ve done too much, too fast. You aren’t part of the Wards, you aren’t even fulfilling your contract with us personally. You’re making these Toads to do it for you.”

Tess didn’t react to the jab. She had the expression of an untuned TV set, mouth hanging slightly open.

“I’m willing to let you keep the relative freedom you’ve had so far, but I need more in exchange,” Piggot finished. “I need insurance.”

Toymaker clutched the screwdriver to her chest as though the Director was about to take it away. “You can’t just--!”

“I can, and I will,” she replied, staring down the teen. “If you don’t intend to cause more trouble than you already have, then nothing will change for you.” The director stepped closer, somehow looming despite Taylor being taller. “But a Tinker of your magnitude cannot be allowed to do whatever they want without opposition.”

Toymaker looked towards Armsmaster, who was doing his best impression of a statue. She wasn’t getting any help from him. “And if I refuse?” she asked, reproachfully.

Piggot closed her eyes. “Then I will have no choice but to have you and the DWU declared a gang, and treat them as such.”

“Director Piggot--” Armsmaster said, only to be cut off again.

Toymaker stood silent, thinking hard.

“Boss.” Nobel spoke quietly, getting her attention. “Maybe we should talk about this. It might not be the worst thing.”

Tess T. snapped out of whatever stupor she’d been in and snarled. “Now wait just a darn second! That’s not how this was supposed to go!”

She marched up to the Director, who watched bemused as the little mushroom person tried to intimidate her. Given that the Toad only came up to her waist--and Emily Piggot was not a tall woman--the effect was somewhat ruined.

“This was just supposed to be a, a little--the Princess wasn’t supposed to get in actual trouble, I was just--!” The Toad looked on the verge of angry tears.

Emily was unmoved. “Toymaker, control your minion.”

The Tinker pulled Tess back and into a huddle of the three of them, where they began whispering furiously. The Director couldn’t hear what they were saying, though no doubt Armsmaster could. From what she could tell, the Toad and Toymaker were incredibly agitated while Nobel was trying to calm them down. The bomb didn’t have lips to try and read, but what expression he had, if Piggot had a to put a name to it, seemed placating. Tess was making a motion with her hand like she was trying to strangle something.

She felt Armsmaster lean over her shoulder. “Director, this is highly irregular,” he said in a low voice, aggravated. “You do not have the authority to declare the Dockworkers a gang, they have committed no crime. Toymaker’s minions may be alarming, but they aren’t illegal in and of themselves, and demanding her identity is an enormous breach of trust--”

“Your concerns are noted, Armsmaster,” Piggot said, not bothering to lower her voice. She never took her eyes off the huddle, simply waiting for the decision.

At last, Toymaker drew back up to her full height, looking tense, and to Emily’s own surprise, pulled off her mask.

“My name is Taylor Hebert.”

---------------------------------------

Press ‘A’ To Skip Cutscene

---------------------------------------

PRT ENE HQ

Director Piggot had retired to her office. Danny Hebert had collected his… daughter and her charges. The six Toads had piled into the back of the truck while the bomb and the brown Toad had gotten in the cab with them, and they’d drove off. She’d need to send someone out to check on them. Just in general, but also to speak with Mr. Hebert. Toymaker was still a minor, and even if she wasn’t a Ward Emily would feel like scum if she didn’t reach out to Hebert and make him aware of the resources available to the parents of a parahuman. Given the trouble Toymaker had been in, he might benefit from a new perspective.

Armsmaster entered the office without knocking, and given the way his face looked like it was chiseled from stone he was clearly upset with her.

Emily leaned back in her chair with a groan. She pressed the button that activated her office’s privacy protocols and waved her hand. “Go ahead. I have a feeling I know what you want to say already.”

“I should hope you do,” he agreed readily. “Director, have you lost your senses? What you did was a colossal breach of privacy, trust, and basic ethics. You broke the rules, Director, by asking her for her identity.”

“Maybe we should get around to actually writing these unwritten rules,” Piggot mused dryly.

Emily.”

“Wallis.”

Armsmaster grit his teeth, forcing his rising anger back down. “What were you hoping to accomplish? We have gained nothing and likely lost Toymaker’s trust. Why did you--”

“I didn’t expect her to actually tell me who she was, Wallis,” Piggot cut him off, rubbing a hand down her face. “I was putting my foot in the door. Giving her what I thought was an unreasonable ultimatum. She would refuse, and so I’d fire back with something that would seem more palatable, like renegotiating our contract with her and the DWU to something more in our favor.”

Armsmaster grunted, displeased. “We are already coming out ahead in our dealings with her, Director. To skew it even more in our favor…”

“I’m aware,” Piggot admitted. “What we paid for that warehouse is peanuts compared to those mushrooms if they really are everything we’ve been told. I’m not happy about taking advantage of a teenager either, but she’s powerful. You’re one of the best Tinkers in the world and both you and Dragon have been fascinated by her work since she appeared.”

Armsmaster didn’t bother to deny it. He had only recently returned to his own personal projects, which had almost all been improved by his experience with what Toymaker inventions he’d been able to study in-depth.

Under normal circumstances he would have preened under Piggot, of all people, giving him such high praise, but he was still too aggravated to notice.

“I highly doubt her specialty is Toys like we initially thought,” Piggot continued. “She’s probably got some annoyingly broad one like ‘being cute’ or some nonsense like that.” She counted off on her fingers. “Tracking devices, healing plants, mechanical soldiers, what might as well be functional AI, who knows how many different types of sentient minions she can apparently make whenever she wants, and oh, before I forget, the ability to power her devices using popularity.” Emily sat up, expression firm. “A teenager she may be, but she’s not someone who can be allowed to do whatever she wants. Except she caved easier than I expected and gave me what I didn’t want instead.”

“We at least got her to agree to having us review her minions before she makes them.”

It was a poor consolation prize, but not a useless one, Emily agreed. She was beset by the sudden urge to throttle something, and reached into her desk to fumble around for another stress ball. A red-robed arm reached out and handed it to her.

On reflex, Piggot slammed the drawer shut again, and whatever was inside squealed in pain and surprise before the arm curled up like the wicked witch of the east. When she opened the drawer again, it was empty.

“Please tell me you saw that, Colin.”

Armsmaster shook his head, moving to the side of the desk. “I heard something, but I couldn’t see it from my angle.”

Emily picked up the ball from where it had dropped and crushed it in her hand. “I need a vacation,” she muttered. “I’m seeing things.”

Armsmaster paused awkwardly, before jumping to the next topic. “What are you going to do about the potential Case 41?”

“Nothing.” The Director stared at a swirl in the woodgrain of her desk. “I’m a soldier, Armsmaster. Not a scientist, not a diplomat, not a whatever-else a pipe to another world calls for. I’m going to kick this up the chain and pretend everything is normal until I receive new orders.” She sighed. “At least that way I’m not to blame when it all goes sideways.”

He shifted. “Should I wait until sending Dragon’s drone out, then?”

“No, go ahead. Get a feel for if it’s dangerous on the other side.” Director Piggot considered for a moment. “You tell Miss Militia about it, I’ll tell Renick and call the Heberts to ask them to keep it quiet, and not tell anyone else yet. We don’t want to start a panic. For all we know the pipe will close itself up tomorrow, the damn things have apparently been popping up and vanishing all over the place.”

“Yes, Director. I will let you know more once I have results.”

With that, Armsmaster turned and made his way out. He paused in the doorway and looked back at her.

“I am aware that I am not the greatest of diplomats, Director, but I worry that you might have made a grave miscalculation today.”

He left, closing the door behind him. Director Piggot sighed.

“God, I hope not. We can’t afford any.”

---------------------------

En Route to the Docks

Danny glanced at Taylor out of the corner of his eye. She stared out the window, silent.

Taylor’s expression was as unreadable as it might have been if she’d been wearing her mask.

Nobel didn’t have enough face to read, but he looked worried. He kept glancing back at Taylor like he was expecting something to happen. Danny wouldn’t have been able to tell if he hadn’t spent so much time with the little guy, but Nobel was an open book once you got used to his unique expressiveness.

And if Nobel was an open book to him, Tess T. was a fully unfolded brochure, pinpointing every single thought she was having. She was furious. At the Toads in the back for being loud enough to hear in the cab, at Nobel for being a metal ball she had to share a seat with, at the truck for not having good AC or a working radio… curiously enough, none of it seemed directed at Taylor. Whenever Tess looked at her, she just looked guilty.

It was distressing, and Danny didn’t know what to do.

They stopped at a red light, and Danny was suddenly struck by a wave of paranoia. These roads were basically bare, but they had the Toads in full view in the back, and Tess’s cap was clearly visible from the window. I didn’t even think about it, hell. Damnit.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said, internally wincing at how unconvincing his faux-casual tone was, “Maybe you should put on that mask before we go through the busier streets, yeah? In fact, do you have one for me? Better safe than sorry. If not, I can wear the bandanna while you keep the goggles.”

“What’s the point?” Taylor said dully. “The PRT knows who I am now. Why bother?”

“Only the Director and Armsmaster know, Boss,” Nobel said softly. “They can keep a secret.”

“Can they?” Taylor snapped. “She seemed pretty keen on uncovering mine.”

The light turned green, but Danny turned right to take another lap around the block.

“This might not be a bad thing, Taylor,” Danny began. “If the heroes know, we don’t have to dance around the issue quite so much. We can be more direct about asking for help, I don’t have to pretend I bought an employee a phone but not my own daughter, you don’t have to wear the mask on the compound if you don’t want--”

Taylor folded her arms and scowled. “Nobel spends too much time around you,” she said bitterly.

“Princess,” Tess started, unusually nervous. “Boss, Taylor, I am so sorry. I’m so sorry! I didn’t know it would end up like this! I thought it would just get us  a wagging finger and, maybe, I don’t know, a week confined to the Docks! We hardly leave the Docks anyway, I didn’t think--”

“No, you didn’t think, did you?!” Taylor turned away from the Toad as best she could in the seat so she didn’t have to see Tess’s crestfallen expression. Unfortunately, that led to her facing Danny, and she was mad at him too, so she ended up staring straight ahead out of the window again.

“Sounds like ano--” Danny began, but stopped.

Taylor’s angry expression tightened. “Another girl you know? Is that what you were going to say?” She pounded that dashboard. “Well you can stuff it! I didn’t have anything to do with Rainbow Road, that was all Rigel! I only went out like that because I knew Squealer was going to jack the truck, and she did. I might have saved Bruce’s life for all you know, and you grounded me for it!”

Danny sighed, and as he rounded the same corner for the third time, he pulled into a roadside parking space for an old, boarded-up restaurant.

He put the truck in park and turned the engine off. He sat there for another few seconds, hands clenched on the steering wheel, when he felt all the energy suddenly leave him and he slumped back in his seat.

“I know,” he said. “I know it wasn’t your fault.”

Taylor didn’t respond, just looked at him.

Danny glanced at Nobel, who took the hint and ushered himself and Tess out of the passenger door, with little complaint on the Toad’s part.

Once the door was closed again, Danny turned to look Taylor in the eyes.

“Do you know why I grounded you in the first place?”

Taylor squinted suspiciously. “...Well, I thought it was because of the Rainbow Road incident, but now I think you’re going to tell me different.”

Danny chuckled weakly. “Yeah. Kiddo,” he said, schooling his expression. “I know you aren’t really going out looking for trouble. But trouble keeps finding you. Squealer is a murderer and a lunatic, and she’s somehow gotten it in her head that you’re her archenemy. There’s no way to know if or when she’s going to come after you again, and the same could be said for literally anyone.” He turned to stare ahead. “I’ve read the statistics. And I’m not stupid, I know that the ‘new cape death’ stats are misleading on purpose. Eighty percent of solo capes don’t really die in their first month, it’s closer to ten. That statistic is actually about how long it takes them to join a gang or the Protectorate. But ten is still too high a turnover rate, and it’s worse for Tinkers. At any moment, Kaiser or Lung, or hell, Skidmark could come out of wherever he’s hiding and spirit you away right under my nose and I would be powerless to stop it.”

“Dad,” Taylor said, then stopped. She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried again. “Dad, we’ve got the PRT’s protection, don’t we? We’re even in view of the Rig.”

“Taylor--” Danny grimaced. “I overreacted, I think. But I think I was justified. I shouldn’t have banned you from Tinkering, that was dumb of me, but it was the only thing I could think of at the moment, and then I was trapped in it because I felt like if I backtracked I would undermine myself.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “I didn’t ground you because you put yourself in danger, but because you seemed like you didn’t even care that you were in danger at all.” He mimed something falling. “You nearly fell into the bay when the power failed, and at most you only acted annoyed, like Squealer hadn’t been trying to kill you the entire race.”

“Well,” Taylor said, hesitantly. “I mean, it was over at that point. Why worry about something that had already passed?”

“And then this thing with the pipes,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “It was just you and Armsmaster down there, and that’s upsetting enough, but if you were only getting one hero at your side I’m glad it was him.” He paused, frowning, before getting back to his point. “You told me about the giant plant monster trying to kill you with the same tone I’d use to discuss what to eat for breakfast, Taylor. Do you understand how much that terrifies me?” he asked, looking at her again. “You act like you don’t care about what happens to you, and I’m scared because I do.”

“Dad…”

“I shouldn’t have grounded you the way I did, you didn’t deserve it, but it was all I could think to do to keep you where I could see you for a bit, and even then it didn’t work because you went roof-hopping. I just--” Danny let his head fall against the steering wheel, causing a short honk as he hit the horn. “I have no idea what to do to help you, and I can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt.”

Taylor, hesitantly, reached out and patted him on the back. “You’ve been helping a lot! I wouldn’t have known how to work with the PRT without you! And, uh, you gave me a place to work, and all the dockworkers are great, and…” she trailed off, before adding quietly, “and I’m glad you’re trying now.”

Danny flinched. “God, Taylor, I’m so sorry. I really screwed up, didn’t I?”

“No, you--”

His eyes started watering.“I wasn’t there for you after Annette, and I never noticed whatever happened to you and Emma, and now I’m keeping you from being your best.”

Taylor blinked, then scowled and slapped him. “Alright, stop it. I don’t want to see you mope again, that’s the thing you’re apologizing for!”

Danny snorted, smiling shakily. “Sorry.”

“Stop!”

“Alright, alright.”

Taylor pulled him into a hug. “I’ll get to work right away. I’ll make the armored clothing, and I’ll research ways to keep an area safe. I bet Rigel can figure out a barrier shield, he was talking about the Rig’s forcefield before. Ooh, I can finally make a magic wand if Rigel keeps gaining Star Power! I can make a working prototype out of an aluminum bat and one of those tacky crystal balls from that awful store on the Boardwalk that sells cheap swords to gullible nerds.”

Danny laughed, startled. “W-What?” He hugged her back. “Taylor, slow down kiddo, don’t burn yourself out.”

“Hm, maybe I should make some muscle,” Taylor muttered to herself, pulling a pad of papers out of her pocket. “The Director didn’t veto new minions, I just have to run them by her first. Maybe I should look into Koopa now. A Chargin’ Chuck?” She made a face. “No, reminds me of the football players at school. Hmm.”

Danny shook his head, bemused. “I am absolutely 100% on board with whatever you’re talking about as long as you think it through properly, but I think perhaps we should call it for today.” He paused, remembering something. “How do you feel about tennis? Kurt tells me there’s a pretty good place near Arcadia.”

Taylor froze in her sketching. “Tennis?” She grinned. “I could go for tennis.”

Danny smiled, starting the car again. Nobel and Tess took the cue to get back in, and they both seemed relieved at the lack of tension in the truck.

On seeing them, Taylor remembered her mask and started putting it on, passing Danny the bandanna. Then she turned and looked out the back window at the Toads, who looked back at her with varying degrees of confusion.

“Hey Dad?”

“Yeah, owl?”

“Do you think we need to find housing for my minions?”

“I think--” Danny stopped and turned to look at them too. The Bob-ombs slept in the workshop and Tess apparently stayed in the garden. Cici just slept wherever she fell. And if she was going to make more… “I’ll make some calls.”

-----------------------------

Toymaker’s Workshop

Rigel hopped inside, feeling satisfied after working up a sweat. “I’m back!”

Clay sat up from where he’d been lying on his side. “Yo, bunny.”

“I found a freerunning video on the Internet and thought I’d give it a try!” Rigel said. “I knew I could do better than that, so I made a body cam and took a trip across the city without ever touching the ground! I think YouTube will love this.”

“Cool.” Clay laid back down. “Glad you’re excited.”

“...You don’t seem very peppy today,” Rigel noted, unclipping his camera and setting it aside. “Man, we really need to get a good computer. I’ll make it the next priority.”

“You want pep, talk to Jubilee,” Clay groaned. “Sterling made me do his training course he’s building for the Toads. Anyway, the Boss has her own problems right now.”

Rigel blinked, ear twitching. “Toads? Plural?”

“Yeah, the PRT’s not happy last I heard. I dunno.”

“...What did I miss?”

NullenVoidWriting PATREON 17 favs
VIEWS1
FILES1 file
POSTEDAug 7, 2022
ARCHIVEDJun 10, 2026