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Rating:
Explicit
Archive Warnings:
Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceUnderage Sex
Categories:
F/FMulti
Fandoms:
Parahumans Series - WildbowHighschool DxD (Anime)
Relationships:
Amy Dallon/Taylor HebertTaylor Hebert/Lisa WilbournTaylor Hebert/Paige McAbee (Canary)
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English
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Published:2018-06-18Updated:2023-10-31Words:103,513Chapters:22/?Comments:133Kudos:789Bookmarks:352Hits:84,215
Seraphim
A_Standup_Philosopher
Chapter 4: Chapter Three
Chapter Text
Taking some artistic license with HS DxD races and their inborn traits here and there, mostly because it seems logical to me and partially because I feel like it. *shrugs* Anyway, on with the show!
Remember, as always, to fill the thread with speculation and to fill the TV Tropes page with tropes!
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Winslow High School, one of the original institutions of education of Brockton Bay, had not aged well. In generations past, it had been one of the best high schools in the state. Athletics and Intellectual competitions alike had been one by its students more often than not, and several of the more prominent people in the city were counted amongst its alumni. As with most of outer reaches of the city, it had fallen far since those days of glory. Once-polished white stone was now almost universally marred by graffiti from not only all three gangs but any random asshole with a can of spray paint that felt stupid or brave enough to tag the disputed building. It's surrounding lawns were likewise marred, litter of all kinds scattered across their mostly-brown expanses, such things as still-smoldering joints and cigarettes. Even the inside of the school was filthy, and in truth it was only the sports fields that were in any sort of good form. It was amusing, one might suppose, how druggies, racists, and pseudo-Triad members could put aside their loathing for one another long enough to play or watch a game.
Twas a pity that they couldn't be just as reasonable and decent when it came to every other moment they were alive. Instead, they had to drag their feuds and rhetoric into everything else, inevitably and invariably spoiling any semblance of fun or relaxation that there was to be had. Indeed, the first day of school had yet to officially begin, and there had already been a handful of scuffles between various low-level gang members. The shot-callers, such as they were, contented themselves with scoping out potential prospects amongst the incoming freshman. Most of them would never amount to anything more than soldiers or grunts for those above them, but that wasn't something the recruiters cared about. They would lie, manipulate, and intimidate anyone they could in hopes of impressing their superiors enough to advance out of relative irrelevance and obscurity themselves. 'Better these kids than me' they thought to themselves, when they bothered to spare a thought to their incumbent victims. They would use these poor, naïve idiots to advance themselves without a second thought, as had been done to them, and they were confident that there would be little to stop them in their efforts.
They had no idea what was coming.
Madison Clements, cute and petite late bloomer of a brunette with pale blue eyes, was putting what textbooks she didn't need for first period into her locker when they arrived, and she was the first to witness their entrance, for she was the closest locker to the front doors. And an entrance it was, for they swept into the building like they owned it.
They were a trio of girls, each insanely and jealousy-inducingly beautiful.
In the lead was a tall ravenette with long, flowing, slightly (and naturally, she was willing to bet!) curled hair that hung past her shoulders and swayed in time with her hips as she walked. Her bust, which Madison observed with envy and no small amount of depression, was larger than Mrs. Clements' despite belonging to a fellow freshman. She exuded confidence and charisma, her stride graceful and measured, and she was clearly accustomed to being respected or even obeyed.
Flanking her a half step behind, looking more like bodyguards from TV than anything else, were a redhead and a brunette. Each was just as attractive as their apparent leader, each walked with the same grace, but it was obvious to a practiced or particularly observant eye that they were somehow…lesser than the ravenette. They lacked the same aura, the same bearing of confidence and power that the leader possessed, and they seemed to unconsciously defer to her even in something so benign as walking down the hallway.
She would have assumed that they were some sort of Empire 88 bigwigs if not for the silver Star of David the brunette was prominently, even proudly, displaying around her neck. They certainly weren't ABB or Merchants, either, anyone could tell that just by looking at them. Which meant that they were an unknown fourth faction. Madison, fully aware of how unpleasant her time at Winslow had the potential to be, immediately decided to ingratiate herself to them. They would protect her without wanting things from her like the gangs might have, and that suited her right down to the ground.
She looked around at her fellow students and noticed their own reactions to the trio. Awe and confusion seemed to be the most prominent reactions, as well as no small amount of lust from the more blatantly unsavory types. The confusion, if nothing else, she could easily understand. These girls looked like they belonged at Immaculata or Arcadia, or even some prestigious college. Not a shithole like Winslow, with gangs and a staff that was legendary for their apathy. Only Mrs. Knott and Mr. Gladly had a reputation for being anything more than that, and one was 'the nice one' while the other was a sorta-creepy guy that tried to act like he was one of the 'cool kids' despite being one of the teachers.
The reactions of the known gang members was reassuring, in a way, as their reactions confirmed her own guesses about the three girls. None of them were displaying any recognition or familiarity towards the new arrivals, and the trio didn't seem to be reacting to or acknowledging anyone specific either. She thought about approaching them right that minute, but she held herself back. Better to wait until she ran into them in class or something, it would be more natural that way and would improve her chances.
The newly arrived Taylor and her Pawns kept grimaces from their faces with some effort as they headed for the office to get their locker and homeroom assignments. They could smell the lust wafting off of many of those that were observing their entrance, and though a part of them preened at inspiring Lust in others, the more human parts were displeased with people looking at them like prizes to be won. Oh, some of it was probably entirely innocent physical attraction. After all, they were the most beautiful people in the building. That being said, they were positive that the more unpleasant characters in the crowd were thinking of nothing but getting them into bed for the sake of some quick fun and bragging rights. Fortunately, they weren't stupid enough to fall for that, powers or no powers.
It was a handy thing, really, to be able to get a feel for the emotions of those around you. Fallen, and Devils of course, had the ability to feel the emotions of those around them. For the vast majority of the two races, those who spent no time honing the skill, it was an inbuilt instinct gifted to them upon their birth. A legacy of their forefathers, or in some cases their own, Sin. Like their beauty and charisma, it was a tool meant to help them enthrall and manipulate the hapless humans that were their prey, their targets of corruption. The downside, of course, was that it could only be ignored, not deactivated. And none of them were practiced enough to ignore it.
Stepping into the office, Taylor couldn't help but wrinkle her nose slightly in disgust. It wasn't dirty per se, but it wasn't exactly clean either. It was obviously also overworked, inefficient, or both. Tall stacks of paperwork, some of it looking very official and significant indeed, sat in barely-neat piles on the floor, rather than cabinets or even cardboard boxes. At least two of the staff dedicated to the room were, as far as she could tell, pretending to be incredibly busy with management tasks when in reality they were killing time in the hopes to avoid having to deal with any students. Glancing at the line of increasingly irritated kids waiting to speak with the one functional attendant, Taylor glanced at her companions and raised an eyebrow while dipping her head slightly towards one of the lazier staff. Emma nodded and stepped forward, a smile that was, as bright and eager looking as it was, as fake as their chosen office lady's breasts and blond hair.
"Good Morning!" the redhead chirped cheerfully, startling the woman and turning her gaze from…was that fucking solitaire? Really?! onto the teen that had somehow, magically appeared before her. "My name is Emma Barnes! Me and my friends were looking for our scheduales and locker assignments!"
"I;m not sure that…" the woman started her attempt to make them someone else's problem, but Emma cut her off in an impeccably polite manner.
"I know you're all swamped with work here, it being the first day of school and everything, but it would so embarrassing if we were late to classes or couldn't find our lockers! I'd hate to get dragged into the Principal to explain being tardy on my very first day!"
The words were calculated, and Taylor wondered just how much of a lawyer's cunning and word-play her sister had picked up from Mr. Barnes as she watched the impact Emma's words had. The woman's eyes twitched over to the closed door that bore the word PRINCIPAL in fading black letters across the window for a moment, before she plastered a weak, and incredibly fake, smile onto her own face.
"Of course, of course. Let me see what I can do for you girls, okay?" she replied, and Taylor was impressed that she managed not to grit her teeth while she was saying it. She even managed to keep the intense dislike and irritation she was currently feeling for Emma off of her face and (mostly) out of her voice when she said it. An impressive feat, really.
The woman moved with an efficiency that surprised the trio, clearly hoping to deal with them and move things along so she could get back to more important things, but enough people had noticed her helping them that it was impossible. A smirking Emma led the way back out of the room with a dark glare boring into her back as a dozen teens abandoned the original line to que up in front of her.
"I think you might have annoyed her, Emma. I'm not entirely sure of course, but I have a gut instinct that she isn't terribly fond of you." Charlotte said dryly, lips quirked slightly in amusement.
"You could be right, Charlotte, you could be right. However shall Emma live with such a burden weighing so heavily on her shoulders?" Taylor agreed solemnly, eyes dancing with delight as the moved down through the hallways, her two friends reorienting themselves behind her again. The trio ignored those around them as they walked laughing through the hallway. Charlotte, eyes ever-sharp, restrained a smirk of satisfaction as she saw the crowd parting before them like the Red Sea before Moses, their eyes locked on the point of the arrow. She could see that they were already beginning to recognize something above them was within their gaze. Something inherently superior to them.
"Through great struggles will I build the strength to stand tall under so crushing a weight." Emma sighed theatrically, shifting her gait to a plodding shuffle for a moment, a dramatic moue of exhaustion sweeping over her face. Taylor rolled her eyes fondly and opened the door to their homeroom, claiming one of the fore-most seats with Emma and Charlotte on either side of her. It might make her look like a teacher's pet (not that she cared if people came to that assumption), but she doubted that sitting in the back-row, traditionally the bastion of the 'bad' or 'disruptive' students, would do her group any good either.
Over the next ten minutes the other students filtered in, casting curious looks their way, some even outright staring at them, but as with the hallway this was ignored. They were going to stare regardless of how the trio reacted, and anyone that actually had the fortitude to come up to them might be worth getting to know. Which sounded somewhat cold, perhaps, but anyone who simply stared at them all day and never said a word to them could hardly be the most engaging of company.
"Good Morning, class!" what could only be their homeroom teacher, one Gladys Knott, said cheerfully as she strode into the room and plopped a large stack of folders onto the front-most and largest desk in the room. She was pretty enough, for someone the same age as her father, with short, curled brown hair and a fairly slim build. Hazel eyes, though hardly dead, nonetheless belied with a certain dullness the professed enthusiasm with which she had entered the room. Obviously, she was less than thrilled to be starting yet another year of 'teaching' people who were more interested in committing crimes than achieving academic excellence. It was…discouraging to see that kind of attitude in an educator, but then said educator had probably been long since discouraged from putting her all into something as fruitless as this. How very sad. "I have here your basic start-of-the-year folders, so make sure to take one on your way out of the room! Attendance will be held every morning at 8:15 sharp, anyone who arrives after that will need to go to the office first to be marked tardy. Three tardy arrivals without a good excuse will result in detention. Some of your teachers may take attendance for individual classes, some might not. Any of you in a computer class certainly will, as I will be your teacher for those classes."
Attendance went fairly quickly, each student responding when their name was called out (some rather lazily, some with a rebellious grumble, some promptly) and having their presence marked down properly. Amusingly, there were no absences, something which almost surprised Taylor. Then it occurred to her that those who would normally be expected to skip, like gang hopefuls, would want to be present the first day in order to get recruited or to make a recruitment pitch of their own.
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None of the trio realized how much attention they were really receiving, those first few hours. How much interest they had generated with their arrival and with their bearing or attitudes. It was not a romantic or carnal interest, or at least not purely carnal, but the shot-callers of the gangs had taken note both them and the reactions of the student body to their presence. Reactions that they were rather less-than-pleased to see, because while three pretty girls weren't really important, any influence they ended up having over the students could very well be relevant. None of them had exactly tried to feel the trio out, but from the way they carried themselves around bangers it was obvious that they were not prospective recruits. Nor were they, like the other unaffiliated, cowed into submission and going day to day trying to avoid notice. No, they were drawing attention and reveling in it, and that could mean trouble for their stranglehold and recruitment within the institution.
Should that happen, the shot-callers would find themselves facing very awkward and unpleasant inquiries from their superiors, inquiries that they really wanted to avoid. While Kaiser wasn't the most unreasonable of bosses, failure tended to mean that you lost any chance of advancing in the ranks. Lung was prone to punishing failure or perceived incompetence by turning people into cinders and scorch marks, if it was bad enough…or if he heard about it on a day when he was in a bad mood. Skidmark… well, with him it really depended on how high he was at the time you talked to him. The Merchants weren't exactly high-class people, and very rarely did they do anything sober.
The point was, no one affiliated with any of the gangs would be pleased if the current state of affairs was disrupted too badly. Things had been balanced like this for years, with each of the major gangs having their own business and own territories. Oh, there was squabbling fairly frequently, but it was almost obligatory, an afterthought. The uneasy peace that had been put in place by Marquis was entirely too useful to everyone involved to ruin it recklessly and without careful planning. Even the PRT had a very laissez-faire approach to the city, interceding only when they deemed it necessary.
Now, obviously, three teenaged girls could hardly ruin all of that just by interfering with gang recruitment at a high school, especially if it was only by accident, but that wasn't the point! Each of them resolved to contact their immediate superiors, mid-tier operators at best, so that things could get passed up the pipeline. If nothing else, their own asses would be relatively covered if something insane happened in regards to the situation.
But it wasn't only criminals that took note of them with suspicion. Well, not only criminal criminals, for while the laws had been changed a great deal, vigilantism was still rather frowned-upon by The Powers That Be. For one Sophia Hess, the vigilante 'hero' known as Shadow Stalker, there was an altogether different facet to the cause for the narrowed eyes with which she observed her fellow freshman girls. Unlike the gang-bangers, she (accurately, as it happened) had surmised not long after first seeing them that they were more than they seemed.
She had watched the way that they interacted, watched the way that Barnes and Aronin had seemed to orient their every action around Hebert, how they sat partly turned towards her, how they hung onto every word she spoke. Everything they did was focused on the ravenette, and there was an all too bitter taste in her mouth as she saw more and more of this behavior. It was more than respect or teenaged hero-worship of a pretty and apparently popular girl, more than simply a firm friendship.
No, Taylor Hebert had to be a Master of some description. Not to the same level as Heartbreaker, perhaps, but it was the only explanation that made sense. Granted, that didn't automatically make her a villain, but off the top of her head she could think of…one Master that wasn't an evil maniac, and that was because she preferred to use her power to be a singer of all things! Everyone knew that the Wards wouldn't be in a shithole like this, so even if she was an unannounced new member she wouldn't be here. And Brockton Bay would certainly be a smart place to try and gather thralls, especially powerful parahuman ones, given the chaos that regularly was unleashed by the gangs. Some of the most powerful capes in America, certainly on the East Coast, lived in this city. What a Master could do with the likes of Kaiser and Lung under her Thrall… well, it would take the Triumvirate getting involved to stop her, and the dangers of engaging a Master was that anyone you sent after them could become theirs as well.
So, she would watch and wait. Follow the other girl whenever possible, listen to their conversations, and try to discern the best way to remove her. She could hardly shoot her with a bolt in school, and a well-planned ambush would be the only way to take her out 'in the field', because Sophia had no intention whatsoever in being a slave for the rest of her (probably short) life. Predators, she knew, were patient. They waited for the perfect moment before striking, elsewise they might find themselves becoming the prey…
Fucking nigger cunt! You think you can talk shit to your betters! I oughta show you what you animals are really good for!
She shook her head violently, banishing the memory to the darkest parts of her mind where it belonged. She had been prey once, but she had been reforged in that alleyway. Made stronger, made into a predator. Now she was the one that hunted, she was the one that was feared in the darkness of the streets. It was not she who screamed and cried and begged for a savior that would never come, but those who had once tried to rape and murder her simply for her skin color and some trash-talk. Only through strength could anyone survive in this shitty city, and those that didn't display it weren't worthy of being saved. Why should she risk her life for them, when they would roll over and die the next time someone attacked them? Why should she risk dying to save someone who would not risk their own to save her were the situations reversed?
Well, given that no one had tried to help her then, she knew the answer to that particular question.
"…and Sophia Hess, take the back right table. You'll be working on the Hammurabi Law Code and comparing it to modern law." The voice of the history teacher broke her out of her thoughts, and she groaned mentally as she got to her feet. Why, in God's name why was there always a teacher or two that insisted on jumping straight in on day one? And a comparison of modern law to something almost four thousand years old? Ugh! I mean sure it might not be too hard, since Hammurabi's Code had mostly ended its laws with 'shall be killed', but it was still way too much work for day one.
Her eyes widened slightly as she turned her gaze to the table that she had been assigned and saw the three girls that had been dominating her thoughts sitting and waiting her with polite smiles. For a moment she balked, considering asking the teacher for a different group or faking sick, but the thought was quashed by both pride and pragmatism. It would arouse suspicion if she acted so blatantly in order to avoid them. They would want to know why, and she couldn't guarantee that they wouldn't be able to force it out of her through the Master's power. Once that happened, she was back to the whole 'slave for life' thing. She also loathed the idea of tucking tail and running just because she was assigned to the group for one 45 minute period! That was hardly an action befitting of a true predator like herself!
Her soul so steeled, she set her jaw and squared her shoulders before striding towards her table. Polite greetings were exchanged all around, including the entirely superfluous introductions, and the work began. Despite herself, Sophia begrudgingly had to admit that the trio did pull their own weight. A fairly surprising thing to encounter in any high school, but especially one like Winslow, and she soon found herself enjoying the rapid-fire debate that sprang up over questions of morality and decency that inevitably sprang up when discussing law.
"They didn't have the technology, the space, or the resources to imprison people for years on end because the person committed a crime! Not to mention how short-lived people were, a ten year sentence as an adult was a death sentence anyway! They couldn't just go to the grocery store and buy more food, or go to Walmart and replace property! Theft or destruction of vital things like food and shelter was as good as attempted murder!" Charlotte cried in exasperation after a good five minutes of argument over severity of crime vs severity of punishment, with Emma taking the position it was excessive in the Law Code.
"That's not the point! Resources and space or not, executing a child for stealing a loaf of bread because he was hungry is insane! For God's sake, they were still doing that shit during the Industrial Revolution! How could these people live with themselves!" Emma snapped back, and Charlotte grimaced and tilted her head in agreement.
"You're both right, I think." Taylor interceded, voice a little soothing, and Sophia's hackles raised instinctively as both combatants quieted and looked at her respectfully. "Yes. A harsher world required harsher laws to survive, but there was a degree of harshness that was excessive even for the time. I think that we can all agree that today's laws are often all to lenient, on the other hand? Sophia, what do you think?"
"Damn straight they are. Pay a lawyer enough money, or a judge for that matter, and you can literally get away with murder. Spin a good enough sob story and they let you walk with a warning that is more useful for toilet paper than for any difference it actually makes." The vigilante agreed bluntly, some of the disgust, contempt, and all to personal hatred she felt for sure things leaking into her voice despite herself. "I'm all for people doing what it takes to survive, but I've never met a 'banger who did what he did so he could take his sweet little old grandma to lunch on the weekends. They're scum, plain and simple, and I'm tired of reading escape or release notices in the goddamn paper a day or two after the bastards get arrested red-handed."
"Yeah, I hear that. It gets to my Dad, too." Hebert sighed with a nod of commiseration. "He's had bangers caught messing around on the docks, hands them over to the cops, and catches them at it again a couple of days later. I dunno how he puts up with it instead of beating the crap out of them instead."
Sophia filed that comment away carefully for later investigation. She knew Hebert's dad was some sort of important guy in the Docklands, but since she never patrolled that area she hadn't ever paid anything about it much attention. Better to focus her memorization on any information about her actual prey, not those that they hunted. Now, of course, the subject was actually relevant to her, which meant she would be busy with her computer tonight.
Taylor, for her part, regarded the dark-skinned teen with well-disguised curiosity and no small amount of apprehension. The other girl was tense, much more tense than working on a school project with stranger ought to make her. Obviously, part of it was the subject they were discussing, something that had to have a personal connection from her vehemence and her tone, but it was more than that. The fact that she was trying (and mostly succeeding) to hide that tension from Taylor and her two friends was mildly concerning, again because it felt like there was more to it than simple social jitters. She was somewhat tempted to try and delve deeper into the subject, to wield her power in a search for answers, but she banished the idea quickly. There lay a slippery slope of a most profane violation of rights, because she honestly couldn't imagine something worse than someone getting into your head uninvited.
"So, Sophia, why don't you tell us more about yourself? We're done with the assignment, so…?" she offered leadingly, frowning ever so slightly when she saw a jolt, almost a shiver, race through the other girl. Why did she react like that? It was a very innocent and normal question… wasn't it?
"Not much to say, really. Lived in the Bay my whole life, like to play soccer and do track. When it comes to book stuff, anything more'n history seems like a huge waste of time to me. I ain't gonna be an astronaut, so any math I need to do I can do with my phone." Sophia responded with feigned casualness, relaxed words belying a racing mind. She had to have fucked up somewhere, that was the only explanation for Taylor suddenly prying into her life. Asking personal questions that would help the Master get control over her and make her act 'normal'. She cursed herself internally for answering honestly, of vaguely. She should have said she enjoyed things she actually hated, that way her family would notice if she was Mastered and suddenly started doing them all the time.
"Mmh, I can't help but agree. I remember when I was younger, teachers always used to say that we 'wouldn't always be walking around with a calculator in our pockets.' Well, the joke is on them now, isn't it?" Charlotte seemed incredibly smug as she pulled her smartphone out of her pocket and waved it through the air slightly with a smirk. Sophia mustered a smile and weak chuckle of her own as the other two laughed in agreement, involuntarily remembering being told the same thing almost daily. "Course the school system is totally fucked up anyway. Imaginary numbers literally don't exist, but we have to waste our time learning how to not find them anyway. Our parent's tax dollars at work, girls."
"Huzzah for bureaucracy. Ruining a good thing since forever." Emma drawled, setting off another round of amusement, and Sophia found that she needed to remind herself that they were enemies. They were so at ease, so relaxed and easily amused that she caught herself getting altogether too comfortable in their presence more than once. A sinister and unpowered trick on their part, or perhaps the subtler workings of a Master's influence? She would have to add that to her list of things to research tonight. She almost sighed in relief as the bell rang and the class began to break up. Even if she had more classes with them today, she probably wouldn't be having any more group projects that would have her virtually trapped with them for entire periods.
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As the day progressed, Taylor found herself becoming more and more disappointed with the Winslow staff, which admittedly was an achievement (if a dubious one) given her lack of confidence in them in the first place. Most of the teachers could clearly not give a shit (never mind two!) about any of the students or the quality of their education. They were, with the exception of Mrs. Knott and Mr. Gladly, quite possibly the most apathetic and monotonously-voiced individuals she had ever had the dubious pleasure of meeting. She had never thought that she could be bored enough by a teacher to doze of in class, but she had honestly found herself drifting into daydreams with discomfiting frequency.
As for the two 'good' teachers, Mrs. Knott's interest and energy was almost as farcical as it had been during homeroom. She did, at least, seem to genuinely enjoy computers and teaching about their intricacies and benefits of use. It was something, at least, and was a great deal more than anyone could say about Mr. Gladly, who came across as mildly pedophiliac with the way he doted on the pretty and the popular. That, or he had 'Peter Pan Syndrome', because he was far more interested in being seen as 'cool' by the aforementioned groups of students than he was in actually being an authority figure or role model. Maybe that would improve once the first week was over, but Taylor rather doubted it. To be honest, it had actually been amusing to see his reaction when the trio had been coolly polite to his overtures of attempted comradery. The bafflement and entirely off-balance expression he had borne had nearly sent them into laughter on the spot, which was restrained only by effort to display itself as small upticks at the corner of their mouths.
Of their fellow students, only a scant handful had stood out to be of any interest: Sophia Hess, Sierra Kiley, and Madison Clements. She supposed she could mention Greg Veder as well, if only because he seemed to talk to everyone regardless of how popular or not they were. Theoretically a good thing, but a five minute conversation with him revealed he had more conspiracy theories than Youtube did videos. The three girls, however, were of note for a few reasons, not the least of which is that they acted fairly normal around the trio, or at least didn't try to impress or flirt with them five seconds after meeting them. Sierra was cordial and politely curious but didn't seem to care one way or another about ingratiating herself to them, Sophia seemed wary but nice enough (if somewhat harsh when it came to criminals, but that was hardly surprising for a pretty black teen in a city with a neo-Nazi gang running a good half of it), and Madison was too damned bubbly to have a sort of sinister ulterior motive. Emma had, jokingly, mentioned that even Taylor had never been that cute and bouncy. Time would tell if any of them were really worth becoming friends with.
"You mind if I join you two in testing out of here next year, My King? It's not even the first real day of class and I already want out." Charlotte griped several rather tedious hours later, as they stood waiting for their bus back to the docklands to arrive.
"I certainly couldn't leave one of my precious Companions behind here, could I?" Taylor assured her lightly, looking around subtly to see if anyone had heard the brunette's comment. Fortunately, the only one nearby was Sophia, and she was clearly listening to music, judging by the ear-buds and the way she was ever-so-slightly bobbing her head to a beat. Probably why Charlotte felt confident enough to speak so freely in the first place, but perhaps a small discussion about security would be appropriate when they got back home. She would rather keep things on the down-low for as long as possible, and being called 'My King' in public would hardly help with that goal.
"I'm kind of sad, really. The stories my parents tell about Winslow from back when they went made it sound like it was an amazing school. I get that the city has gone to shit since the Docks and Factory districts died, but it should at least be getting decent attention from the state or federal government." Emma's tone was distinctly disappointed, more so than Charlotte's amused irritation and contempt.
"The government hasn't been doing anything right since the fifties, why should this be any different?" Charlotte scoffed almost dismissively, and Taylor frowned in thought as the two began a light-hearted squabble over the efficiency and capability (or lack thereof) of the United States bureaucracy. Part of what Emma said resonated with her, because it didn't make all that much sense that the feds wouldn't help clean up the city. The last time any gangs had gotten as out of hand as the ones in Brockton Bay did, three other Protectorate branches had obliterated them with little in the way of hesitation or mercy. So why was Brockton Bay and its problems being ignored? She used to think it was just a horrible government writing the city off as hopeless, but now a part of her (that could charitably be called 'overly cautious and suspicious') was wondering if there wasn't more to it.
Or maybe she was as paranoid as Greg and the rest of the tinfoil hat brigade.
The bus pulled up to the curb with the hiss-squeal of brakes and hydraulics, the doors swinging open to admit the three of them and Sophia, who promptly went to the back of the bus and took up the entire rear-most row of seats with her bag and body.
As her Pawns' squabble continued, much to the apparent amusement and even interjections of several other bus-riders, Taylor turned her attention to her father and the vision she had had those short few weeks ago of his future companions. She had no idea who they might be, and she was really rather interested to try and find out. Her own curiosity aside, the faster her father met his new lovers than the happier he would be, which would certainly cheer her up plenty. And, in regards to her curiosity, she couldn't help but want to meet the women who not only would win his heart but also be willing to share it. It took an uncommon pair of women to so freely, and apparently happily, share a man. A part of her was bizarrely proud of her father for being a man such women considered worthy enough to do so for, but that did nothing to sate the curiosity or the anticipation. Perhaps she could try some more direct methods of investigation by scrying for them? It was all based on intent, so while knowing their names would make it laughably easy, she didn't need to know their names to have a chance at finding them.
Something to think about, at any rate.
"What do you think, Taylor?" her name suddenly being spoken drew her attention back to her companions, and she smiled a little and gave a lazy shrug.
"Democracy is the worst form of government ever invented, except for every other form of government." She quoted, tone rich with amusement, getting admittedly confused looks from the duo. Giving a little gesture, she elaborated. "It's a quote by Churchill, and basically it means that democracy is terrible, but better than anything else. Granted, the US is technically a constitutional republic not a democracy, but that's another matter entirely."
The looks didn't change to one of understanding, and she sighed under her breath. Not everyone had an millennia-old English teacher for a mother, after all, and so it shouldn't be surprising that they didn't know quite so much about some subjects as she did.
"The point is, I agree bureaucracy sucks. It is still arguably better than anything else we could come up with, and humans will inevitably spoil anything good that they come across." She explained a little curtly, suddenly not feeling like having a serious conversation or listening to one. How spoilt paradise, how heavy the burden…"What also sucks is the fact that some of our enlightened educators," this was said with biting sarcasm and a small sneer. "felt that it was necessary to assign homework on the first day of school. They are, quite obviously, villains in disguise attempting to make us evil from frustration."
"…yeah, definitely not the coolest thing to do." Emma said slowly, more than sharp enough (and familiar with Taylor's moods and tells) to recognize that something had just happened, but not entirely sure what. "We should try to get it done fast so we can hang out longer."
"I agree with Emma. Sooner its over with, the sooner we can chill without an interruptions." Charlotte voiced her own opinion, her tone a cheerful and unworried contrast to Emma's cautious one. Perhaps because 'hanging out' and 'chilling' would involve honing their powers some more, and maybe talking to her mom about the best way to go about debuting themselves. "A little while longer and we'll be able to have a pretty stellar party."
Taylor felt a somewhat savage grin cross her face, very much looking forward to a stellar 'opening bash'. Yes, another handful of weeks and her Peerage would help her usher in a new era for the city. One where people could walk with pride and confidence, without fear or suspicion. It would not be easy, would not be swift, but it would be.
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So, it made sense to me that the three races, especially Fallen and Devils, could see certain things about humans around them in order to manipulate or entice said humans into their service. Nothing like seeing all their sins like a movie or whatever, but something of a sixth sense.
Also a little view into Sophia's…unique world view. She is both rather observant and rather deluded, isn't she? Ah well, we'll just have to work on her won't we?
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