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In her seventeen-three years six months four days and seventeen minutes of being employed by the PRT's Watchdog, Assessor had seen her fair share of questionable powers.
It was the natural result of a world in which, seemingly at any moment somebody could come charging through her office door with a stack of papers with TOP SECRET - URGENT along the top. Or, nowadays, an email with PRIORITY 1 POWER CATEGORISATION.
The word priority was one that she had long since come to loathe, because it meant that no matter what she was currently doing she had to drop it at once to provide an analysis of a situation. Sometimes it would be relatively unimportant, her power would let her know that no, a person able to transform solid matter into an equivalent mass of gruyere cheese was not, in fact, an A class threat. Other times it was all hands-on deck as some blatant megalomaniac had suddenly burst onto the scene with a power that threatened the entire order of the world.
She had been the one to assign ratings to Pastor and Nilbog, it was her recommendations that led to the containment of both.
Including the somewhat disastrous attempt to take down the latter.
But despite her own grumbling, most days were relatively calm.
A comfortable desk in a secure location with a few pictures of her kids smiling back at her, a large number of files and a computer screen in front of her. Assigning ratings and analysis for a number of new Wards and Protectorate members across the United States. The work never ended, but it filled her time and it paid well enough that she would be able to put Jason, Lloyd, and Hana through college when the time came.
And then she picked up a rather strange piece of paper.
Strange for its contents, that is. The paper itself was perfectly mundane by nature.
For one, rather than being a one-page summation of a new Cape for analysis from a power testing facility somewhere in the United States, it was a double document, detailing a pair of Capes. A first page depicting one girl, the second another, and the third providing further details about them both together.
It was a little odd, but some Parahumans, especially identical twins, sometimes triggered with powers that worked with specific other Capes.
Or perhaps...
Oh, it was a Cluster Trigger? Normally those required more than two people, but double Clusters were not impossible, just rare. of course, Clusters tended to create a number of problems on a personal level, extensive Parahuman Research had been conducted over the years to examine the so called 'Kiss/Kill mechanic' that tended to have rather warped influences on the personalities of those involved.
But Clusters also produced Grab-bag Capes, whose versatility was often a great benefit in the field.
Very well, she began leafing through the document.
The first page detailed a Cape by the provisional name of 'Pollux.'
Okay, the main power... superhuman ability in one skill that lasted approximately a minute at a time, automatically rolling over until such time 'Pollux' wanted to change it, at which point they became aware of how much time remained. Current examples had had her nail a bullseye ninety-eight times out of one hundred with a standard issue handgun, calculate a number of mathematical problems at a post-doctoral level despite only middle grades in school, and the ability to play Blue Öyster Cult's Don't Fear the Reaper on electric guitar despite having never picked up the instrument before.
Simple, but effective.
The secondary power from her Cluster-mate was a bit more... unusual. An automatic master power that forced a solitary target to share in the same state as her at all times, benefitting from the same skill mastery. However, it also meant that they could not leave her presence without increasing levels of physical pain, to the point that the solitary test had reduced the other person to screaming on the floor at a distance of twenty metres.
Now that was grim.
She moved onto the second Cape, provisionally named 'Castor.'
The main power, a Master power that enhanced another person with superhuman strength, dexterity, and speed, with examples including the other person lifting several times their body weight, balancing, and jumping across one-centimetre protrusions, and achieving sprinting speeds equal to a car. Impressive, and a valuable ability, were it not for the downside... that it was both permanent, presumably until the other person was killed, and that it came at the expense of making the affected person emotionally dependent on Castor at all times.
It was the sort of power that would have a big red warning label attached to them. The villain Teacher had something similar... although he was not limited to one person and he gave others Thinker powers instead of Brute and Mover capacity.
And the second power from her Cluster-mate Pollux... a Thinker power that provided superhuman coordination skills that grew less potent the more people it included? Well, that was always valuable in a field agent of any sort. When affecting just one person it had allowed for feats of coordination that bordered on near telepathy.
Well... so far, so normal.
A pair of Cluster Triggers with powers that were a little curious,
She checked over the provisional ratings, let her power check them out as well. A slight change here or there, a request to have an additional few tests (specifically, Castor's coordination network) in greater detail and range before a more concrete rating could be given. All very normal stuff for her to look over.
As the methodology of power testing had evolved in recent years, the range of error had decreased a pleasant amount.
Assessor turned over to the third page.
Oh? Okay, so Castor and Pollux were recommended to make a duo, provisionally named 'Gemini', for reasons detailed below. She looked down, expecting to see something positive between the two of them and felt her heart drop through her stomach.
They both loathed one another... and Castor had, on a reflex upon gaining her power, affected Pollux with it, enhancing her drastically... but Pollux's own Master power had reflected it right back, enhancing Castor in return. And now they were both stuck like that, unable to leave one another's presence without physical pain and also emotionally dependent on the other on some level, sharing in Pollux's choice of skill.
Holy shit.
What a clusterfuck.
She looked back over the first two pages. Both were wearing plain masks, but Pollux was a thin girl with black hair and dark eyes, and Castor was a redhead with green eyes.
Two Parahumans with a negative history, suffering a cluster trigger but also unable to leave one another's presence, mutually empowering the other?
Assessor really did not envy the Brockton Bay PRT on this one.
Tap tap.
Perfectly synchronised footsteps against the floor.
The left heel met the ground within milliseconds of the other's.
Taylor rather doubted that the other was ever more than a centimetre ahead of the other.
Tap tap.
Both their hands moving at their sides in perfect unison, if viewed from the front that any observer would think that they were gazing upon two best friends or siblings who had grown up imitating the other to the point that their actions were rote.
The fact that her fellow's temporary outfit including shoes with a bit more heel to bring them to the same height did not help.
Were it not for differences in shape and their hair, they might well look like twins.
Tap tap
Were it any other circumstance, being so in unison with another person would almost be delightful, it would be tempting to loop arms and walk in perfect synchronisation to their destination, to laugh and joke around and make others just a little confused at their display of unity.
"Stop that." "Stop that."
Taylor Hebert, newly triggered Parahuman and winner of a cosmic lottery of bullshit, spoke the thoughts on her mind at the exact same moment that her companion did the same. And yet they continued walking forward, not looking ahead but focusing on boring holes into one another.
"Stop using the coordination."
"There's nobody else around to dilute it, the moment we get there I'll expand it, being perfectly coordinated with you is a nightmare," was the prickly response from her former best friend and now fellow Parahuman, Emma Barnes.
Oh how she fucking hated her. Just hearing that tone of voice put Taylor in half a mind to try and throttle the red-head, and judging by the other girls slightly narrowed eyes, the feeling was mutual. But the problem with being a Brute 5, Mover 3 is that once a fight starts with somebody of equal classification, it gets dirty fast. Just yesterday they had been forced apart from a scuffle that had seen them trying to beat the other senseless.
"... Let's just get there, Castor. "
"Sure thing, Pollux. "
What a fucking joke, naming them after the goddamn Gemini twins, making light of their enforced connection and coming up with a 'theme' for them both that would 'compliment the current artistic direction of the Brockton Bay Wards,' the fucking PR team of the PRT had her emnity for that decision.
Taylor was just being bitter... and petty, what else could they really do with two complimentary Cape's who could not be away from one another?
She dreaded to imagine what sort of outfit those goons in PR were conjuring up.
Still... now she and Emma were Wards.
Did she want to be a Ward?
... She had wanted to be a hero, but not necessarily whilst working for the PRT, and most certainly not alongside this bitch.
But her father and the Barneses were adamant that joining the Wards was the best way for them to get some help with their situation.
The situation in question being the fact that they could not be more than ten metres away from the other without being in pain, and twenty was absolute agony. Furthermore that despite not wanting to, she was hanging on Emma's every word. Her former best friend's voice was delightful like honey and her words sent her emotions in spirals, but at the same time, so was hers for Emma. It was utterly fucked up, they hated one another and yet suddenly they had to be right at the others side.
And all because her secondary power had reflected Emma's primary one back at her.
At least the bitch got what she deserved, trying to make her into some sort of superpowered slave.
Oh sure, everyone could say that it was 'automatic power expression' this and 'stress response' that... but when it came down to it... Emma's power had tried to both enhance and make her permanently mastered by her, so fuck it, now they were both trapped in the same boat! Turnabout is fair play.
Half the time they were at one another's throats, the next they were sitting shoulder to shoulder as if they were the best of friends.
She hated it she hated it!
Just walking from the Wards' common room to the PR section of Headquarters was going poorly.
At least they had their outfits ready and there was no wasted time when they arrived.
Taylor was... hm... she was not overly against them, she had worried that they would try to dress them both up like Greek hoplites, but instead the pair of mannequins presented wore what the PR team described as 'contemporary ancient-Greek streetwear' or something like that. She rather liked the belt, and the material certainly looked very soft... she supposed that when dealing with Brute 5's, they needed less armour on it?
She was less keen on the golden masks complete with green laurels around the crown, though.
"It's hideous! " Emma said, without any concern for the thoughts of the PR team.
"I don't know, it looks comfortable."
"I will not be seen dead in this!" somehow, Taylor's comment only riled Emma up further.
'That can be arranged.'
Emma, fortunately, was not telepathic.
"Now now guys, let's not fly off the handle," the head of Brockton Bay's PR team attempted to pacify. He had a strong west coast accent, apparently the majority of PR was handled in Los Angeles and he had been trained there. He had already dealt with one Emma tantrum this week and two was more than the average mortal could bear. "These are just the preliminary designs; we want to try and keep you both looking similar enough that you can fit the theme---"
"Fuck the theme, get something with some proper shape to it!"
"We're gonna be fighting villains, Castor, " Taylor said dryly. "So long as it is comfortable and we can fight in it, who cares?"
"You always had a shit sense for fashion, that's why you always needed me to dress you, Pollux, " Emma snapped back at her, and due to the way their powers worked it hit Taylor like a bucket of molten lead to the face.
The PR guys were getting very tense all of a sudden, why did Taylor rather suspect that they had an emergency button somewhere to summon Assault in case the two of them got into a fight again?
Fortunately, Miss Militia just happened to be dropping by to help diffuse the situation and get Emma to actually bring up some more concrete complaints than the outfits being 'hideous.'
Taylor rather suspected that if the girl got her way, the two of them would end up looking more like fashion models than heroes.
"I need a skill swap."
"What for?"
"Physics."
"Wait for me to be done first," Taylor replied, expertly using a wooden spoon to move about the contents of the pan.
"Oh for fucks sake Taylor all you're doing is cooking, stop being a bitch and let me do my homework!"
Her primary power; unreasonable, superhuman mastery of a single skill at a time. It only lasted for a minute at a time, but the timing rolled over for the most part until she wanted to change it, only at that point did she become aware of how much time remained. She could calculate better than a professor, she could paint perfect replicas of masterpieces and do just about anything, but only that thing.
Currently she was preparing a world class omelette that would make any normal person never wish to eat anything else again.
She had only made them a few times before when she was younger but she knew the theory, and with the careful balancing of flavours and making sure to shift and move the food around she had absolute confidence that it was going to be the best damn omelette that she and Emma had enjoyed in their fucking lives.
"Fine, guess I'll just have this omelette for myself then."
Behind her, she could sense Emma glowering.
Emma loved omelettes, and Taylor had made it to the other girl's preference as well because, just for a moment, she had been feeling amenable to her fellow Cape.
When the food was done and divvied up between them, they sat in silence.
There was no need to swap skills to high class eating, they were sat at the somewhat marked and stained table of the Hebert household after all. Nothing fancy. For sure Taylor could give them all the skills and grace required to eat at the fanciest of restaurants in the world and mastery of as many forms of knife and fork as needed... but what was the point? It was just an omelette. So instead, she changed the skill shared between them to physics as Emma had requested.
She needed to do her own homework anyway.
"How is it?"
"... Horrible." Emma was eating much faster than normal, even if it looked as if she was trying to hide it, it was clear that she loved it. It gave her a thrill of satisfaction, a blossoming of happiness in her heart for a few moments that she could not help. She hated that sensation, that alien happiness created by helping Emma, by serving Emma.
"You could be a bit more grateful."
"Bite me."
Each word was like a knife stabbing her in the gut, but there was no reason for it to be that way, it was all because of this stupid power between them, the power that would trap them like this for the rest of their lives. What would happen if Taylor just killed Emma? Reached over to the knife block and cut out her throat? Would she be free of her former tormentor and the ball and chain that had attached itself around her ankle?
Just the thought of trying to kill Emma horrified her, she couldn't, she needed Emma. But she did not need her objectively, it was just that she would be utterly heartbroken if she tried. The idea of living without Emma made her vision darken, her heart began to race and want to burst into tears.
"Yeah, that's right."
Emma was using her coordination skill, they were synchronising perfectly, she had some manner of idea how she felt, and she was revelling in it like the psycho master that she was.
All at once her despair and anguish turned cold.
Taylor stood up.
Emma blinked, looking up from her food.
Taylor began to walk in the opposite direction.
"T-Taylor?"
She continued onwards, past the door, across the hall and towards the garden.
The distance was growing between them, the first twinges of discomfort were starting, by the time she was at the back door it was the beginning of pain. Pain that would only increase with distance, a few more metres and to would be unpleasant, ten or so and it would be absolute agony. But if there was one benefit of the terrible trios bullying campaign, it was that she had developed a tolerance for pain. But Emma did not have that luxury, she was just a coddled daddy's girl who got what she wanted by stretching out a hand.
Behind her, Taylor could hear the scraping of the chair legs against the floor as her fellow Cape was standing up.
"Taylor! Come back!" the first hints of panic, of fear.
Taylor ran, ran for the end of the garden.
"T-Tay, I'm sorry I didn't mean it, it---argh... it was lovely!" Emma of course also had a Mover rating, but of them both, Taylor was slightly faster. On a hundred metre stretch, she would gain distance over the redhead due to her height and the length of her legs. She was standing in the doorway, leaning heavily against and gripping it with one hand and reaching out with the other, her expression was frantic and she was visibly crying.
After the power testing, in which they had reached their maximum extent from one another and been near catatonic with pain, Emma had been leery of being too far away.
"Next time, be honest about the food then, or I'll just run away and leave you," she hissed back, full of anger.
"I-I will, I'm sorry, I was being mean," and now Emma was hyperventilating.
They returned to the table and did their homework in silence, the air heavy.
With nobody else to coordinate with, Emma's power used her, each word and letter of their writing and diagrams was perfectly coordinated, the scratching of the writing implements coincided beautifully like a well organised musical performance.
They did not speak again that day, but they barely needed to; when Emma moved to the sitting room Taylor already knew she intended to put on a movie, and her guess of which one was correct. They sat on other ends of the sofa in one another's presence, Taylor with a book and Emma watching the screen. The sounds of The Princess Bride, Emma's favourite movie since she was a child, filled the air until her father returned.
The greetings were a little stilted; her father knew about the bullying now but... they had to be around one another.
He looked more relieved that the two of them had not destroyed the house in the interim.
School was very different at Arcadia.
With the explosive fallout of Taylor breaking out the locker in front of some students and then the very dramatic public trigger of Emma followed by her using her power on Taylor, there was no way that the pair could continue to attend Winslow. It was the sort of event that would be remembered for years, and their names as well... in truth, Taylor rather wondered why the PRT was bothering to give them a secret identity; in a place like a high school trying to hide the truth just made it propagate further.
Still.
Arcadia was nicer than Winslow.
Cleaner, nicer and more varied classes as well.
The only problem was coordinating classes with her ball and chain.
She and Emma either had to share classes, or be in rooms adjacent to one another to prevent them both being in pain, which Taylor could only imagine had been something of a logistical nightmare for the staff of Arcadia.
Then again, the school got plenty of money from the PRT for having the two of them attend school there, so Taylor did not really care how many hoops they had to go through to make it work. Her heart hardly bled when her own suffering was providing them with plenty of funds, funds that she was not seeing, because minimum wage pay was bullshit for somebody who might be risking their life.
She could have joined the army and be earning money she could use for the same level of risk!
Maybe less risk actually...
No she was not bitter.
... Okay maybe a little. There were a lot of things around the house that she could help with and improve if she was actually earning money, and it would lighten the burden on her father as well... but nope, stupid laws keeping her from getting what she damn well deserved.
Her English class went well.
Her current skill mastery was in taking notes and no doubt Emma was benefiting from it as well. Her notepad was a perfectly neat and organised arrangement of tables and notes, highlighted and decorated to draw the eyes in a perfect and sequential flow of information. It was practically a work of art and already a number of other kids had come up to her asking to make a copy of them... it would probably make her some friends to say yes, but after so long with barely anyone to call a friend, she saw through their efforts.
They just wanted the notes, not to speak with her.
Perhaps she was just being cynical, but she did not care so much.
"Oh, but I saw your notes earlier and they were really good," she would with a smile she did not feel, stalling until she could swap her note taking skill into diffusing situations so that she could get out of sharing her work.
She was really not going to build any inroads with people here, but at this point she did not really care. What was a few more years of solitude after so long, and when she already had a person tied to her hip? It's not like she needed other people with Emma constantly hovering around, draining her social battery just by existing within her presence. Once upon a time she had boundless time for the other girl, now it made her feel tired.
She swapped the skill, and was able to deal with the clingers on trying to get her notes with just a few well placed words.
A few minutes later she met up with Emma, who raised a brow at the skill change, having evidently noticed it, but did not care to ask exactly why Taylor had done so. Instead, as one, they began walking to lunch, falling into step together as they usually did.
The Wards, in their public identity, liked to all sit together for lunch.
Friends and work colleagues in real life.
In some ways Taylor could understand why, if you spend that much time with somebody in your job then you will naturally get to know them pretty well and be friends with them outside it. Most of her father's friends were people from the Dockworkers Union, after all.
Emma sat on one end of the table, Taylor on the other. As far away as they could from one another whilst still being in the safe range.
"Sup Taylor, how was English?" Chris, Kid Win, asked.
"Fine."
It was not that Taylor was trying to be unfriendly.
But... she had somewhat been forced into the Wards, even if in the end it had needed her consent alongside her fathers. The Barnes and him had been so concerned that their side of the papers had been signed before she and Emma had really known was going on, the pressure on them both to sign had been immense, the arguments that it would be for both their good, that it would let them put their new abilities to use and 'resolve their issues' as it were.
Taylor should not be so blunt with her fellow Wards, but that wound was still there.
She sighed.
"How was science?" she asked back, after a somewhat awkward pause.
If Chris noticed it, he gave no indication, and filled the air with complaining about the teacher, sentiments agreed and argued over for a good amount of the conversation for the rest of lunch break. Emma did not care enough to discuss such things, she was too busy talking with Victoria Dallon and Dean Stansfield, ever with her finger on the social pulse, knowing who to talk to build the best connections for the future.
Their eyes met briefly towards the end, then Emma looked away, a puff of air through the redhead's nose indicating her own dismissal.
Taylor scowled and, stabbing her fork into her lunch, accidently put it through the plate.
Out of sheer vindictiveness, she changed their shared skill from social savant-ness to car maintenance.
Once upon a time, the Barnes house had been a place of joy for Taylor.
It had meant time spent with her friend, it had meant the wonderful home cooking of 'auntie' Zoe and time spent with Emma's cool, smart older sister, Anne.
Now it was quite different.
The atmosphere was strained, Taylor slept on an inflatable mattress beside Emma's bed, and she just knew what that bitch thought about that whenever she looked down from the bed at Taylor with that oh so superior look, the one that said 'yeah, look at you sleeping on the floor rather than sharing like we used to, where you belong' and it made her want to take a grip of the other girls precious Himalayan salt lamp and stove her head in with it.
Today however, Emma was not being a bitch, and it was not because she was focusing on her homework. Instead, the girl was staring at her phone, and had been for the last ten minutes or so.
She glanced at Taylor, paused, and looked back.
This tiresome routing repeated no less than five times before Taylor looked up from her copy of the Curious Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde that once had been her mothers, and stared blankly at Emma until the other Cape happened to glance at her again.
"Yes?"
"... Nothing."
Taylor deadpanned.
"C'mon, it's not nothing, you've been glancing at me every twenty seconds or so and you have something on your mind, you'll get frown lines soon if you keep it up."
"Bitch."
"It's true."
A long pause.
"... I need to ask for something."
For the way Emma said it, one would think that Emma needed Taylor to perform open heart surgery on her or something equally as significant and dramatic. Taylor leant onto her side, raising a brow at the girl's admission. Emma, asking something of her that was clearly not minor, like a skill swap? Dear lord, the angels would be blasting trumpets for the rarity of this sort of event!
"Yeah yeah, I am asking you a favour, suck it up," Emma said, stiffly.
Taylor was tempted to say no out of hand, if only to deny Emma some small bit of joy. in this cruel, cruel world that she had created for herself. Once upon a time Taylor would have of course said yes, would have done a lot of things to help her friend with any sort of trouble or issue that she was facing... now not so much, an extended bullying campaign and being forced into a blood-filled locker went a long way to harden one's heart to such kindnesses.
But Taylor was also genuinely curious.
"... What is it?"
"You know how I was modelling?"
Oh, didn't Taylor fucking know it. The beautiful flower whose tits came out as far as her nose, friends with the flat chested, gawky girl, and looking all the more beautiful for it. Emma clearly saw through her thoughts, as she did not need a reply from her.
"I want to start it up again, I've been on pause because of the PRT's bullshit... and the distance limitation."
Oh, Taylor could be such a vindictive bitch right now and say no---
"And I want to do it with your power involved," she added, meeting Taylor's eyes. To use her Parahuman granted skills for something as petty as being the best model possible? God it was so mundane by nature that Taylor was almost impressed... then again, she had been abusing the skills as well to avoid all sorts of situations.
"... Pretty sure that would go against NEPEA-5."
"Fuck NEPEA-5, it's modelling clothes not running a major business," Emma snapped, perhaps a little defensively. "C'mon, think about it."
"... What's in it for me?"
Emma's struggle to not snap back was written on her face as clearly as musical notes on a bar, warring with herself not to say something nasty. She held herself back.
"... What do you want?" Emma asked, and man... wasn't that just a delight to hear and think about? How about an apology? To admit you were a petty, small-minded vindictive cow who had made every attempt to ruin her life, no... who had successfully ruined her life!? Or what about getting on her hands and knees and begging for Taylor's forgiveness, humbling herself like a peon before a king or a pharaoh?
No... that was... she could ask for all of it, but Emma's pride would never let her do so.
"... I want a cut," Taylor said, after a good ten seconds of staring at one another.
"Huh?"
"I want money, some of what you earn. If I'm gonna make you a world class model, and seeing how the PRT is stealing from us for each hour that we work for them, then I damn well want some of your earnings for myself," Taylor said, sitting up and crossing her arms over her chest resolutely.
"You sound like a fucking pimp."
The temptation to say something pithy and untrue, like 'you would know' was strong, but Taylor resisted.
A staring contest ensued, one that Emma lost.
"... The PRT stuff is bullshit, minimum wage for risking our lives and them taking up four of our evenings a week?" Dear god, something they agreed upon! A request for something from her and an agreement! Those trumpeting angels from before would be falling from the heavens in shock! Emma looked back, and crossed her own arms. "Ten percent."
Taylor laughed mirthlessly.
"Thirty, I'll make you the best fucking model in the world, Emma, don't forget that."
"Twenty, my agency already takes enough."
"Twenty-five, and I'll take care of your makeup."
"You don't even know how to use lipstick properly."
"Yes, I do, and even then, I can just use the skills for that."
"... Twenty, the makeup, and I'll handle all the logistics and food expenses and stuff."
"Deal, but it better be damn good food."
Castor and Pollux patrolled together, for reasons that should be perfectly obvious.
Emma was always on edge whenever they did so, which was not to say that Taylor was not paranoid and constantly looking over her shoulder either.
It was one of the few times in which Taylor was glad for the ridiculous levels of coordination Emma's power allowed, they could both routinely keep watch and cover one another's blind spots excellently. It was a safe route as well, one with minimal chances of trouble, which rather made Taylor wonder why the fuck the PRT wanted it patrolled in the first place. She and Emma had a Mover 3 and Brute rating of 5 each, and could easily handle something a bit more dangerous.
Or was it because journalists and the public knew that this was a popular route, and would often just happen to mingle on it in the hopes of seeing a member of the Wards, for autographs or attempting to get juicy news for the tabloids?
If that was the point, then the PRT were rather shamelessly using them like show poodles. Their public debut had been pretty simple, introduced together at the same time, Taylor had made their skill focus be oration, so they had been able to give a rather fantastic speech, covering all the things that the PRT wanted... hope, justice, doing their duty to Brockton Bay, all that. It went over relatively well; they would have had their reveal much earlier if it were not for Emma being such a damn diva on the topic of their outfits.
Tap tap.
Tap tap.
Tap tap.
Taylor had given up on telling Emma not to synchronise her footsteps with her, it always happened anyway… and often, she found that it was her doing it in the first place.
There was a certain... peace in moving as one, in being coordinated and not having to stand out. Like this, they were one of the same, the only way most people could tell them apart was their hair colour, and when people did make mistakes, she only ever half-heartedly corrected them. It was Emma who lapped up the attention and liked the spotlight, Pollux was more than happy to let her handle all that.
The faint ding in her ear to indicate a call was coming through to them.
"Castor, Pollux, we have a report of an ABB mugging and shakedown happening not far from your position---"
Why did Emma's footsteps just falter, for a moment?
Normally when a call or update came through, she would just listen in and they could continue walking without trouble, but it was as if she was about to trip or freeze up in place for a moment. Taylor's eyes followed as her companion hurried to resume the same pace as before.
"---Should be no more than a minute away if you both pick up the pace."
"Directions."
Huh? Emma suddenly sounded a lot more interested, no... keen to deal with this...
The directions came through, as one they began to run, accelerating rapidly up to the speed of cars racing flat out. Only Battery and Velocity could outpace the two of them in a foot race, although Assault could just about keep pace with them.
Skill swap - acrobatics
Let it begin counting down so that she could swap it to something else all the sooner and help close any distances needed. The air rushing through her ears was pleasant, it made Taylor think of when she used to go for daily jogs... before such a thing became impossible without dragging Emma along or risking running into somebody at lethal speed.
Down a number of city blocks and to the side, find the spot in particular, ah, there.
A trio of individuals, the apparent ABB members... they looked more like normal thugs, to be honest, but then again, it is not like all gang members wore gang colours. It was a good way to go undetected, not be suspected, in truth most 'gang muggings' were opportunistic and without too much affiliation to any particular group, but most victims found it a more pleasant balm to say that it was one of the gangs' fault.
An advantage of speed and momentum is that it can carry you far, in the case of herself and Castor they both moved at once, sprinting and jumping to run along the walls either side of the alleyway in a frankly rather ridiculous defiance of the rules of gravity, moving above the heads of the ABB members to land beside the mugging victim in just moments.
The shocked mugger was already moving back as she and Emma took a step forward and moved shoulder to shoulder to make a barrier between the thugs and the victim.
"PRT," Taylor said, not even remotely out of breath from the little stunt just now. "All of you can give up now."
Fifteen seconds until a skill swap.
Well, even without superhuman fighting skills, they were both still Brutes against regular people.
Of course, unreasonable people often react oddly in strange situations. Like a situation where two superheroines wall-run along the alley you are in and interrupt your attempted mugging. One man stumbled back in shock, another stood there, dumbly, and the biggest, stupidest member of the trio immediately tried to throw a punch at Castor, a big brute lumbering forward to take a swing. Foolish, stupid, they could easily bring him down.
Fight or flight was such a potent force in the human psyche, but with Emma's coordination they would simply move aside with ease and one of them would pin him down as the other kept an eye on the other two with ease.
A simple course of action---
Emma pulled her hand back, she was not going to hold back whatsoever, knocking the thug's hand aside with ease and aiming for the side of the head---
Taylor dived, holding back the punch that could easily reduce the man's head to a fine paste, arresting the blow before Castor could throw it just long enough for the man to move away before she lost her grip and Emma's fist left a sizable crater in the wall.
That rather put everything into context for the trio, the guy who had just avoided having his head imploded shrieked like a little girl before he backed away, legs giving out as shock or some other potent cocktail of emotions overcame him, the other two were wide eyed at the superhuman display.
"Put down the fucking weapons and get on the ground!" Taylor shouted at them both, and this time, they listened.
Emma was pulling her arm back, her head had snapped to the side, wide eyes were focused on the trio of thugs and her posture said enough. Taylor moved in the way, side on, and stretched out a hand to grip Emma's shoulder.
"They have surrendered!" she all but declared right into Emma's face, and gripped the other girl's shoulder with a level of force that could break a normal person's bone. Emma paused just a moment, blinking, eyes moving quickly between the trio and Taylor. Behind the redhead the victim of the mugging was backed up against the wall, also clearly in the depths of a stress response.
Taylor took a deep breath.
Skill swap - crime scene management
"Pollux to console, the three ABB members have surrendered and are not going to try and get up---" the last part was almost a snarl in their direction. "Requesting somebody to pick them up. The victim is unharmed, no injuries."
Taylor's voice was level even as she kept an eye on both Emma, the trio of ABB members and of course, the person who had been in the process of being mugged.
"Castor, grab the wallet and give it back to the victim."
Robotically, Emma did so.
"Hey, are you alright? Sorry we could not get here sooner."
At least Emma was putting the skill swap to good use.
The victim was a little slow to respond, perhaps because of the shock and stress of the situation, but they took the wallet back and began thanking Castor. Good, distract her until help could come. Meanwhile, Taylor turned back to the trio of ABB thugs and gave a long breath.
It was only one the police had come around to pick up the trio and take away the victim to make sure they were okay and ask a few questions that Castor and Pollux had a moment to themselves without anybody listening... and for Taylor to round on Emma.
"What the fuck was that!"
Emma was silent for a few moments, but her body posture was practically screaming for all the things it said.
"... Don't tell them," Emma did not sound guilty, she sounded scared, she spoke quickly and as if there wasn't much air in her lungs.
"About the fact you tried to kill somebody?"
"I didn't try to kill anyone! I just..."
Emma fell silent, she looked away, her hands were clenching spasmodically. There was something more there, the fact that Emma's first instinct had been like that, when they sparred with one another she was never so aggressive. Emma was far more of a defensive fighter, she didn't like throwing punches, she was more concerned with protecting her pretty face, but that punch had been thrown out of sudden panic despite how, by all logic, she should have known that she was safe.
"... I'm strong..."
She was breathing quickly, her pupils were small, she was on the verge of some sort of panic attack? And that comment, it sounded far more as if it was directed at herself. But Taylor was in no mood to hear it. Curse the emotional dependence that their powers had enforced, because now Taylor's immediate gut instinct was to also try to cave in the heads of the trio of ABB members in retaliation for what they had done to the 'master' in this fucked up relationship of theirs.
"Of course you are strong, you are a Brute 5!" Taylor all but hissed, and Emma flinched.
"I know that!"
And now they were at once another's throats, masked faces just a foot away from one another, the lack of height difference had them both staring into the others eyes, unwilling to back down even as Emma breathed heavily.
"... Please don't tell them."
She was more scared of getting into trouble than anything else, which was triggering all sorts of instincts in Taylor's head. Whatever had been going through Emma's head when she threw that punch was not normal and it clearly was not fucking healthy, something was utterly wrong in this situation.
"Tell me why."
"..." Emma was gritting her teeth, Taylor could tell from the faint way the mask moved, but held her tongue.
"Emma."
"Console to Castor and Pollux, is everything okay? You have been radio silent and not moved for a little while," chimed an irritating voice in their ears. Neither of them moved, their staring match continued even as Taylor could see it in her former friends' eyes, that fear of Taylor saying something, reporting back about the night. There was every chance that they would find out from the witness testimonies of course, or perhaps the shock would help cover things up, the guy did throw the first punch after all.
"... Pollux to Console. All fine here, just discussing what happened," Taylor said after a moment's pause, and she could practically feel the tsunami of relief that radiated off Emma as she did so.
The night's patrol had turned up far more questions than she liked... if Emma was not going to talk, and Taylor would damn well do all she could to find out just what was going on, then when the other girl went to sleep tonight a skill swap to 'deduction skills' was in order.
Emma got off scot free from trouble for what happened.
Again.
It took a few days, but in the end, Taylor spoke to the only people she could about the matter of just why she had such a strong reaction.
Alan and Zoe Barnes.
The two were hardly forthcoming, but Taylor could be very persuasive with the right skills. She did so after a modelling gig, when she would be staying over at her teammate's household. Both of them were going out for a date night, it would leave Emma and Taylor alone with the run of the house, but with Emma upstairs removing her makeup, Taylor could finally ask some questions that she needed to ask.
And find out the things she had wanted to know for so long.
It hurt.
Just... there was so much she wanted to say, and it had taken such a great deal of coaxing from the two of them that she frankly felt a little hurt that they had never told her about all this beforehand. Did they just assume that Emma would tell her? Or was it a source of shame for them, something that was swept under the rug and never discussed? It made so many pieces fall into place whilst also leaving questions as wide as a chasm.
"... We've left some pizza in the fridge, just the ready meal sort," Zoe was trying to act normal, as if they had been discussing something perfectly normal.
The two of them could sugar coat it as much as they wanted, they could talk about Emma having a 'small run in' all they wanted, but Taylor had superhuman abilities on the fly, she could intuit and put things together that others would not. What had happened had clearly fucked with Emma's head, but there was still pieces missing, nobody just snapped like that. It was around the time that Sophia appeared as well, Sophia the aggressive, domineering sort.
An emotionally vulnerable person encountering something like that, striving to emulate her, in her own way
but it went further than that.
Emma and Sophia had become friends in such a short while, Taylor had been completely excluded from Emma's life.
At the time she had thought that it was all Taylor's fault, but all this time there had been more to it. She felt hurt and confused, how could she not? Her former friend had almost been kidnapped and kept as a sex slave, only for... something to happen and her to be fine. How did Emma escape from a number of ABB thugs, what happened there? Alan and Zoe had been so evasive about 'somebody helping her', they had refused to tell her at all.
The person who had helped Emma was Sophia.
But how?
There was more there, and increasingly she was not liking where her thoughts went.
Taylor sat on the sofa in the sitting room, chin on her interlaced fingers as she thought and dwelled and tried to make sense of it all.
"What crawled up your ass and died?"
Emma had come down the stairs by now, and was frowning heavily.
The sympathetic link between them must have been playing up on some level.
"... You should have told me."
"Huh?"
Taylor glanced at her from the corner of her eye.
"... About what happened when I was at summer camp."
"It was none of your business," Emma said, defensively even as her cheeks flushed, as she gritted her teeth. Evidently it was a secret that she was never supposed to find out. "Oh, I get it, super deduction to work things out, poking into my private business!"
"I was your best friend, Emma!" Taylor snapped.
"Like hell you were!"
All the frustrations came to the fore, surging to her feet and getting her face right into Emma.
"I left for summer camp and came back to find you different; you should have told me, I would have come right back for you! But no, no you didn't say anything and then you decided to absolutely ruin my life because... because of something, huh, what was it, then?"
Emma was standing her ground, even if without her heels the redhead was a few inches shorter than Taylor
"Sophia, right? Something to do with her, she turned you against me," was it egocentric? Yes, was it petty and accusatory to blame everything on Sophia, when she had no confirmation that the girl was even involved with it all. But Emma's response said it all, the tensing of the shoulders, Emma was a good liar but she had plenty of tells. "and you ruined my life when I was your best friend who would have been there!" and now she was screaming into Emma's face as the damn broke---
Emma threw the first punch.
Taylor recoiled, fury surged and then they were at it, a petty, furious fight between two Brute's. Whether it lasted a long time or only a couple of moments was hard to know, both of them could move so fast and take such a beating, their every blow would shatter normal bone, normally when they got into these spats somebody like Assault was around to break them apart, the red clad hero was one of the few who could reliably do so.
But now it was just the two of them, slugging at one another.
Emma was quick but Taylor was taller and stronger.
A couple of blows from Emma here and there, she lacked proper technique, she always threw it out the window when things got heated between them, devolving into desperate, almost animalistic responses, and with only Taylor around for her power to coordinate with, their fight was a furious, blood thirsty choreography of immediate responses born from the forced link between them.
To an outsider it would look like a practised bit of film fighting, but as Emma's fist crashed into Taylor's nose and blood began to pour out Taylor slapped Emma's cheek with such force that she was sent flying through the air, crashing into closet across the room.
Not that it stopped her, Emma grabbed a lamp and launched it at Taylors head, she dodged it by inches and it left a sizable dent in the wall.
Taylor promptly spear tackled her into the floor in a manner that should have broken the other girl's neck, but did little more than stun her. From there, it devolved into a tangle of limbs and grappling, screaming and just pure aggression until they both broke apart, collapsing just a few feet away from one another.
Emma looked a mess; Taylor knew that she did as well. Waiting for the other to make some manner of move or take action that would need a response.
The ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece was loud, deafening even.
It was like the two of them were too scared to break the strange silence between them, to take the first step. Instead, they both just lay there... recovering. It took a lot to tire them both out, they had been going at it for quite awhile clearly.
"... What happened, Emma?" Taylor mumbled, not expecting an answer. She had asked a variant of the question so many times before and never gotten an answer. But now she knew, she knew about that night, there was only so much that could be hidden now.
A traumatised girl getting a dose of cruel reality and almost enduring a horrible fate would break plenty of people, but there was still so many gaps left---
"Sophia saved me..." Emma sounded as if she was in a daze. "That night... she was there, drove them off... taught me that I needed to be better, to not be weak like then.
"How?"
"She's Shadow Stalker."
That bitch. That cow calling herself a hero---
"She's in juvie now, they decided you and I were more valuable... part of a plea deal... heh... that's how quickly they dropped her, they're all liars, only care about us because of our powers," Emma blinked dolefully, looking divorced from reality. "If I didn't trigger and you went to them, then they'd have no problem sending me there too."
Her voice was oddly serene and detached.
"... I'm strong now..."
The repressed bitterness within her surged, she was sure she felt acid rising up her throat but forced it down.
Instead, Taylor stared for a few long moments. Either of them could easily get up and resume their fight but it was all just so... pointless. Finally, Emma was being honest about things, finally Taylor could understand just... why, the why behind all of this. She had wanted to know for so long just why Emma went from her best friend to a monster and a bully, and now she knew.
"You got your wish then, in the end then," Taylor said, bitterly. "We both did. You got to be strong, and I got rid of Sophia and got you back, long after I realised I didn't need you in my life anymore. Right when I realised nobody cared at all, suddenly I got stuck with somebody forever."
"... It's all so fucked up."
Seemed they both agreed on something there.
For several minutes they just lay there, the bleeding from the small cuts stopped, but neither made any effort to move, the only sound was the rain against the window and the sound of one another's breathing.
"Forgive me?" it was asked in such a small voice.
"I'll never forgive you."
Emma stared; eyes blank. Empty.
"But we're stuck together forever, Emma, until the day we die," Taylor added.
They were closer than any married couple could hope to achieve, there was perhaps no two people on earth so tied to the other and it was between two people who had come to hate one another... now forced to care for the other, their emotions always highly strung and responsive to the other.
"... I hate these new feelings."
"Same."
"I thought I wasn't..." Emma stopped herself.
Taylor knew what she was talking about. The mechanic had been fully explained, there was plenty of researching into how Cluster triggers worked, and despite the enmity it seemed that they fell into that accursed selection, as if the world had decided to stab a final knife and was twisting it constantly.
Things would be so much easier if they could just forever hate one another, now they had to mix hate with other things.
Even now, laying there Taylor loathed every single sensation running through her.
"Now that you know..." Emma's gaze was less empty now, was she coming back to herself? "What now?"
"I don't know." She said, simply. They were so entwined that there was no future that could not include the other, such knowledge was always at the back of the mind but moments like this really hammered it home. "I don't have a fucking clue, Emma."
So they lay there in one another's company. Their breaths coordinated into one, they stared at one another unblinkingly as they were both drawn into their own thoughts about and reflecting on their fucked-up lives.
Taylor's hands worked mechanically.
Emma's hair was as soft and glossy as ever, yielding under the careful efforts of the brush as always, as shiny as polished metal without being greasy, as perfectly maintained as ever. Her make up was done, she was dressed up ready for tonight's bit of work in the rather beautiful dress that had been sent along.
Over the last few months, Emma had been entrusted to model increasingly expensive and delicate pieces of clothing.
Her star was rising, just the other day she headlined a photo shoot for a rather niche but very expensive jewellery brand that had flown out an entire team to Brockton Bay for the privilege. Images of the redhead were now being displayed on advertisements across America, striking green eyes staring back with a pleasant smile on her lips, expensive rings on her fingers.
It rubbed Taylor the wrong way, somebody their age being... displayed, as it were. Even if there was nothing sexual about it, it just felt wrong.
But perhaps that was just the depth of their connection, the fact they were bound to protect one another, it was ever on her mind. It got her hackles up when it really should not. then again, Emma had been getting more zealous about consuming her all of her time at school recently, so it balanced out.
It was better to be symbiotic, to lean into this fucked up existence rather than fighting it.
Fighting it only made them hate each other, it was pointless and impossible. Perhaps it was because, on some level, they and their powers needed one another and it was increasingly being reflected on the outside. They needed one another to live, to thrive.
Emma never said it aloud, but they both knew why she was enjoying this recent success.
Taylor was Emma's stylist, took care of makeup and all the other small bits of preparation before any bit of modelling work. Nobody could match Taylor when it came to this, perhaps in all the world. With her selection of skills, she could transform an already pretty girl into a world class beauty in little time at all. At this point Emma's agency was discreetly asking whether Taylor could assist with their other talent's in making an impact.
She always said no.
Emma was the only person she helped with all this. Without Taylor, Emma was just an attractive young woman without incredible prospects for her modelling. With Taylor, she would rise to be one of the best in the world. Emma needed Taylor to achieve her full potential, Taylor needed Emma because her power insisted upon it. The food was always nice at these functions though, last time it was fancy canapés with salmon, cream cheese, and fish eggs on top.
For the last two hours whilst Taylor worked away they had been in complete silence, only the sounds of people in the rooms around them for company and the ticking of a clock over Taylor's shoulder.
There was no need for too much conversation between them any more. The old histrionics and shouting, arguments and fighting had died down almost completely now, much to the relief of their families, the PRT and their fellow Wards. Castor and Pollux were working better together and as a pair they were the most effective among the Wards at this point.
Admittedly, the sudden change had sparked a few questions.
Questions that had not been answered with anything more than a curt 'we talked about things.'
They never talked it out like that, though.
So many things had been communicated without being said between them. Words were increasingly meaningless. With their level of coordination and how their powers interacted, they could communicate just with their expressions and body language. Words could be misunderstood, or others could listen to them and read too much into things...
Laying there bloodied and frustrated, in despair and pain that night, somehow things just... clicked, without a word being said.
Emma glanced up in the mirror once Taylor was done, her eyebrows lifted just a little in a question.
"Beautiful, as always," Taylor said, breaking the silence that had been between them.
'Stop fretting, it's okay,' was what she said with her posture as she placed a hand on Emma's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze.
The redhead relaxed a fraction under her grip.
So long as they could exist in this comfortable agreement between them, so long as she could forget herself and everything that had come before. Was it delusional, to almost see Emma like some manner of symbiotic existence, an extension of one another?
Emma got up from the chair and gave herself a final look over in the mirror, at the perfect makeup and hair and the beautiful outfit.
"... Thanks, Tay."
She couldn't risk giving a hug or a kiss as thanks because of her makeup, so Emma clasped her hand a moment and gave it a firm, heartfelt squeeze. There would be things unsaid or misunderstood between any other pair, but Taylor knew what her partner was conveying, and returned the squeeze, and then watched as Emma departed. She would clean things up and put them away, before moving through the main hall to make sure that they could keep a safe distance to one another.
Taylor had said she would never forgive Emma… but never was a very long time. If not forgiveness, then accepting their situation and moving on was a very different thing.