Teenagers with Attitude (Patreon)

“...so, you're him?”  Taylor Hebert asked as she sat down.

I held up a finger as I took out my 'phone' and tapped the screen once.  A half-second later, the screen changed and, glancing at it a moment longer, I nodded and returned my attention to the fifteen year old.

“Sorry, we can talk now.  I didn't want us overheard, I believe you'll understand why.”  I stated.

Green eyes widened behind glasses.  “Oh,” she cut her gaze to the device between us, “then that's...”  She looked back at me, nervously, unsure whether to say it or not.

“Tinkertech,” I nodded, taking a sip of my soda.  “I won't get into how or why it works, but it basically makes it so that anyone beyond about three feet from it will only be able to hear an innocuous conversation about football or homework or... something like that.  Of course, it won't stop people from seeing you if you're suddenly freaking out.”

Taylor exhaled, long and slow.  “Sorry, I just... the reason I wanted to meet in a public place was...”

“In case I was planning to drug you and sell you to the ABB or Merchants?”  I asked, and Taylor winced, looking down.  “It's a reasonable precaution to take, which is why I didn't argue.”

“I guess... if you really are a tinker, then you could probably kidnap me anyway and no one would notice if you didn't want them to, couldn't you?”  Taylor bit her lip nervously.

“I try to be better than that,” I replied, then paused as the waitress approached.

“Oh, just some water, please.”  Taylor waved her off.

“Order what you want.”  I said as I asked for a bacon-cheeseburger and cheese-covered fries topped with bacon bits.  “I'm footing the bill.”

Taylor looked torn.

The waitress smiled sweetly.  “Keep an eye on this one, sweetheart, he's a keeper.  I can count on one hand the number of guys who paid my tab at your age.”

Her face reddening, the teen managed to stumble through an order for food and drink as I kept a sly smile from growing on my face.  Honestly, I think she just chose the first thing to catch her eye to make the woman leave faster.

Taylor sighed and shook herself, still red in the face.  “So... you're really serious about giving me powers?”

I suppose I was willing to ignore it if she was.  “I'm serious about letting your purchase themfrom me, yes.”

Taylor frowned.  “I... don't have much in the way of money.”

I knew that, but didn't say.  “You can compensate me in a number of ways besides money.  Honestly, I have... if not as much as I wantfor the moment, then enough to see to my immediate needs.  If you accept my offer, you'd be obligating yourself for a certain length of time proportional to the powers your request, in my service.”

She scowled, now.  “I'm not sure if you could make that shadier if you tried.”

I rolled my eyes, not at all faking the response.  “I'm talking about independent hero work, not villainy.”

“W-wait-” Taylor caught herself, stopping in surprise as she held out an open hand, eyeing me warily.  “You want to give me powerson the condition that I become a hero?”  I nodded and she frowned again.  “I would have done that anyway.”

“Hence why I'm offering this to you.”  I sighed at her continued mistrust.  “Okay, think of it like this.  If I were forcing you to... kill people, for instance?  Even if you tookthe deal, you'd hate and resent me over it making it so that I couldn't trust you with my back turned.  The best deals are the ones you don't have coerce people into agreeing to.  There wouldbe some other conditions-”

Taylor opened her mouth to object, but this time Iheld up a hand.

“-such as going after specific criminal groups I picked out, working on mytimetable, and generally being my subordinate as far as what you get to do while you're costumed up.”  I explained, and shrugged.  “Keep in mind, this is essentially me hiring you and offering you your pay upfront.”

Taylor silently mulled my words over.  Appropriately, our food arrived at that point.

The girl, however, couldn't refrain from making a face at the greasy abomination that was my plate.

“Normally, I refrain,” I gestured to the food, “but after giving myself an upgrade or two...”  I shrugged.

Taylor blinked, her look turning thoughtful.  “Would that... be part of it?”

“If you accept.”  I reminded her.  “I'd start you on what's more or less a 'booster shot.'  Something to generally improve your health, fitness, remove any genetic conditions, fix your eyes.  For a start.”

Taylor twitched and grabbed her own burger.  “For a start,” she sniffed disdainfully.

I rolled my eyes again.  “Perspective, Taylor.  Fixing a few missteps in the biological process is barely a drop in the bucket when talking about giving you superpowers.”

She chewed and swallowed before responding thoughtfully.  “I... guess.  I didn't really think about it like that.  So... do I get to pick what powers you give... I mean, which ones I buy?”

“Within reason.”  I nodded.  “I have several kinds which I can guarantee safely.  Others will be somewhat experimental.  Either way, part of your job will be field-testing whatever powers you choose.”

She pulled a slight face at that.  “You don't know if they'll work?”

I shook my head.  “I know they'll work, there's just only so much computer simulations will tell me.  Actual real-world testing is important.  I need to know how wellthey'll work.”

“...and you aren't giving these to yourself?”  Taylor asked pointedly, though with a less confrontational tone to this question than her others.  Progress.

“I don't really want to go out and 'hero,'” I admitted with audible air-quotes.  “I like my lab just fine, thanks.  Besides, in the infinitesimal chance that something does go wrong, it's much easier to fix someone else than it is to fix myself.”

Taylor nodded slowly, staying quiet as she chewed through her burger and a portion of her fries.  Before long, she spoke up again, softer and more considerate than before.  “If... I say yes, how long would this take?”

I inhaled deeply and took a swig of soda before answering.  “That very much depends on what you want.  Flight?  I can do that in a few hours.  Teleportation?  That would take a few months.  None of this takes into account learning to use your powers, mind.  'Normal' powers that people just end up getting randomly have a pretty standard learning curve.  You'd have to learn everything from scratch and, again depending on the powers, that might take a while.”

“You know, part of me was expecting you just to hand over a vial full of weird potion and-boom-powers.”  Taylor admitted with a wry grin.

I twitched slightly.  “I might eventually get to that point in a decade or so, but...”

“I suppose I shouldn't be too picky,” Taylor sighed, then picked up a fry as she leveled an impressively-intense green-eyed stare at me.

“Trying to decide if I'm on the level?”  I asked mildly.

Taylor nodded, unabashed.  “That too, but... well, mostly, I was trying to find a better way to ask... 'Why me?'”

I frowned momentarily and popped a fry into my mouth, considering things for a moment before holding up to fingers and catching the eye of the waitress.  “I think this is best discussed during a walk.  I could say a lot of things, but... the answer you wantisn't one that's best ruminated upon.”

Taylor gave me an odd look, but regardless, followed me out of the restaurant after I dropped a generous tip on the table.

We walked for a few minutes in silence, her flicking a wondering gaze at me every now and then and I merely appreciating the brisk wind cutting through the city.  Admittedly, Brockton Bay was warmer this time of year than its surroundings, but any city in the northeast is going to be cooler than where I grew up.  As such, whether like this was an interesting novelty for me to enjoy.

“I'll admit I didn't choose you at random.”  I began, hands in my pockets as I looked over the steel-gray November sky.

“Alight.”  Taylor took a breath, obviously trying to work things out for herself.  “You look... around my age.  Do you go to Winslow?”

I couldn't help but notice the bite to the question, but waved her off without drawing attention to it.  “You're looking at this the wrong way.”  I sighed and ran a hand over my face.  “What... do you know about powers?  How people get them, specifically?”

“Not much,” Taylor admitted with a thinning of her lips.  “Just that, if your parents are capes, you're likely to be one too.”

“True, but... basically, when someone without powers, but who possesses the potential for them, undergoes a period of time of extreme stress, powers... emerge.”  It wasn't the right word, but whatever.  “The stresses involved can be anything from physical to emotional, to spiritual, to financial, even as far as powers from other parahumans.  That last one is how most trumps-parahumans with powers that affect other powers-show up.  The time period you undergo this stress is known as your 'trigger' or 'trigger event,' and is unilaterally considered to be in the top three worstmoments of any parahuman's life.”

Taylor's face looked... complicated.  “Everyonewho gets powers... goes through something like that?”

I shrugged.  “It's considered an extraordinary taboo among the cape community to even mentionsomeone's trigger event, much less ask about it, but yes.  Some are even a matter of public record, if you know what to look for.”

Taylor breathed in, deeply.  “Does that mean... you...?”

I winced.  “I'd rather not talk about it, honestly, but yeah.  I've got something worthy of a trigger event rattling around.”

The teen frowned and looked away.  “Sorry.  You just said that and I-”

“You didn't mean anything by it, but... just be careful in the future, if you meet other capes.  If they ask how you got your powers, the expected response is a middle finger.  The best you'll get is a polite deflection like I just gave.  If you can't affect real outrage, your best bet is to either think of something from your past that's genuinely upsetting or just try to go cold and pissed off.”

“Right.”  She nodded, then paused.  “But... how you picked me?”

I grimaced slightly.  “Well... while everyone has their specific breaking point.  The point where someone just snapsand gets powers... you can make guesses about who is likelyto trigger.”

Taylor missed a step and fixed me with a look that... mixed anger, violation, suspicion, and unexpected betrayal.

“Generally speaking,” I emphasized, “you look for teenagers and young adults.  Twelve to twenty-four, when the brain stops really developing.  Puberty makes higher highs and lower lows.  You're more likely to see new triggers in that age group than any other.  Next, you look for people who've experienced death recently-” Taylor flinched.  “-friend, family member, close coworker, something like that.”

I sighed.  “Then you're looking for financial problems, social isolation, look at students' grades to see sudden downturns.  Lots of unexcused absences are a good indicator.  The biggest indicator is usually someone without a support group.  Someone without that... netof friends and family to catch them if they fall.”

Taylor's fists were clenched at her side as she stood, tense and still, a foot behind me and to the right.

Somewhere along the way, we'd stopped walking.

“I'll admit most of my information gathering wasn't legal, but... to the best of my guesses and the data I have, you're less than six months away from a trigger event if nothing changes in your life.”  I admitted.

“So why offer me powers?  Pity?”  Taylor ground out, sounding as though she were barely managing to unclench her teeth long enough to speak.

“Because you're at one of the low points of your life.”  I answered honestly.  “Because every authority figure in your life has failed you.  Because I don't want to deal with an entitled rich brat who thinks they can agree to a deal and then welch on me the first chance they get.  Because, having been powerless, you know the value of power.  Because, after everything you've been through, you never struck your bullies back.  Take your pick, they're all valid enough reasons.”

“You want me dependent on you.”  Taylor stated, a spiderweb of angry red glittering on the whites of her eyes.

“That's a component of it, yes, but not the full truth of it.”  I replied to the non-question, sighing.  “Power... I didn't want to give it to people who already had plenty of it.  I wanted to pick someone who had, for lack of a better term, earned it.  Suffered for it.  Someone like me.”

A slow, blossoming understanding filled her eyes as she nodded.

We walked on in silence after that.

Finally, we stopped at a street corner near a part and I pulled out two things.  One was a cellphone, the other a small baggy with a blue pill.  Taylor's hand jerked away slightly at the sight of it.

“You've got forty-eight hours to decide.”  I stated, passing her the cell.  “That's a burner phone, my number is speed-dial one.  If you decide to accept, call it anytime in the next two days.  If you decide not to, chuck the phone and take the blue pill.  In that event, you'll develop flu-like symptoms for a few days and the memories of meeting me will be fuzzy and dream-like.”

She paused, but then wrapped a hand around the two, shoving them into the pocket of her hoodie.  “What happens if I go to the cops or the PRT?”

“The phone bricks itself, the pill dissolves, I never contact you again, and you get written off as some gullible girl who believed someone could actually give them powers.”  I stated blandly.  “I look at the next name on my list and the world keeps rolling.”

Taylor jerked her head in a severe nod.  “What about the time it would take?  To give me powers?  I'd have to have a cover story.”

“If you decide to accept, we can work something out,” I assured her.  “One of my contingencies is a homeschooling program.  It'd be easy enough to get you enrolled and me, personally, assigned to tutor you.  If you needed to spend a night absorbing a treatment, we'd find a good excuse.  There are a few group excursions planned for DC and New York for well-performing students.”

“Didn't know home-schooling programs did field trips.”  Taylor stated in a thoughtful, if distracted, tone.  “...and you're not just offering this because of what you dug up in my school records?”

I sighed and looked skyward.  “It would be more convenient for me if I didn't have to worry about you massacring students in a fit of pique, not that you would, but moving you to a less-stressful, and actually effective, educational environment would be something I'd consider a 'win-win.'”

Taylor closed her mouth and let the indignation fade from her face, though looked surly about the implication she'd kill a bunch of her classmates.

Her hand silently slipped into her hoodie pocket and she nodded again.  “I'll think about it.”  She paused.  “Both the powers and the school thing.  Thanks Cyrus.”

“You're welcome Taylor.”  I gave her a nod in return then turned and walked off without another word.

*~*~*~*~*

I tapped at a holographic icon the next day and let myself fall back into an easy smile as a teary voice on the other side spoke up.

“C-cyrus?”

“Taylor?”  I asked, carefully modulating my voice to appear concerned.  “Are you okay?”

She gave a startled, wet laugh that sounded more like a sob.  “Y-yyou actually...”  She stopped and inhaled, obviously trying to hold back her emotions.

“The answer's yes.”

“I'll text you the address.  Come alone, tomorrow, nine o'clock.  You'll be excused from school.”  I replied bluntly.”

“H-how-?”  She began, but I cut her off.

“Don't worry about it.  Cry yourself out, take a hot shower, eat something, and get a good night's sleep.  Things will look better tomorrow.  I promise.”  I stated firmly, and hung up.

Taking a deep breath, I rose from my chair.

There was work to do.

*~*~*~*~*

“Whoa!”  “Holy fuck!”  “What the hell?”

Three teenagers dropped into existence, one boy and two girls, who were all immediately caught by a cushion of air before they could hit the ground.

“Welcome to my base.”  I stated, raising my voice slightly to get their attention.  “I hope the trip wasn't too disorienting.”

“D-did we just teleport?!”  The pasty-white teen asked, an audible and obvious squeal in his question.  Then he paused.  “Wait!  Was that like Star Trek teleporting?  Because that means that we aren't the people who-”

“Greg.”  I fixed him with a stare cultivated from years of dealing with chatterbox teens with no filter on their mouths.  “If you must know, I enveloped you in a bubble of warped space-time.”

“Oh.  Cool.  Like hyperspace or subspace or something?”  He asked, but it seemed to be rhetorical as he nodded to himself, then turned to the other two and still.  “Oh wow!  Taylor!  You're here too!  That's awesome!  We're going to be heroes together!”

Taylor looked vaguely ill at the prospect, shooting me an accusing look as she found her feet.

The final member of my prospective team had her head on a swivel as she looked around the large blank room we were all standing in.  The walls curved upward into a giant spherical arch.  “Okay, yeah, this is the freakiest place I've ever seen.  Like in one of those weirdo fucking cape movies with a mad scientist or whatever.”

“Taylor.”  I nodded first to the black-haired girl in greeting, then to my final prospective team member.  “Aisha.”

“Yo Cy.”  She replied casually, holding up a hand.  “When are we getting to the power-stuff?”

“Soon enough.”  I stated with a smile as I pulled out a pill case.  “I'll need each of you to take one, please.  Go ahead and do so while I introduce you to each other.”

“Don't look like crack,” Aisha stated, flipping the pink stripe in her hair back as she looked at the pill.  “What's in it?”

“A combination antibiotic, anti-viral, vitamin, nutrient, and mineral booster, as well as a general immune booster.”  I explained, shaking a pill out for myself and popping it into my mouth to swallow.  “Consider it something to prepare your body for more intensive work.”

“I understood like jack-shit of all that.”  Aisha shrugged, throwing the pill back as well.

Greg and Taylor studied theirs for another moment, but slid them between their lips as well.

“So... Greg Veder, Taylor Hebert, you two know each other peripherally at least.  Both of you are sophomores at Winslow high school, in similar social situations, and are generally getting screwed over by the faculty, staff, and administration.  You're here, at least partially, because I can help with that.  The other reasons are because... well, to put it bluntly, you're both desperate to make your lives matter.”

Taylor frowned while Greg grinned infectiously.

“Heck yeah, I wanna' be a hero!”

“Aisha Laborn,” the girl in question gave an... impish grin and threw her hands behind her head as I named her, “is here for similar reasons.  She's Krater jr. high, eighth grade, similar social situation, though she tends to solve it by skipping school most days-”

“Fuck 'em if they can't see how awesome I am,” she shrugged, but refused to meet any of our gazes.

“-and generally wants her life to not suck so much and for her brother, the only somewhat reasonable figure in her life, to stop giving her shit about her grades.”  I finished.

“...and we're all here to get powers?  You didn't say anything about anyone else earlier.”  Taylor spoke for the first time, frowning as she cut a glance to the other two.

“Frankly, Taylor, it wasn't my place to tell you about the others.  I neglected to inform them as well of your existence.”  I stated clearly.  “The reason why I'm inducting you all three at the same time is that you're going to be my first 'batch' of artificial capes and you're going to be backing each other up since I'd have to be an idiot to send any of you out alone into a city like Brockton Bay.”

“Uh, yeah, he's kinda' got a point, Taylor.  With the gangs in Brockton Bay, it'd be a lot safer is we helped each other do stuff instead of going at it alone.”  Greg tried, shifting uncomfortably in place.

“Kicking Nazi ass with a crew sounds fuckin' fine by me,” Aisha grinned, elbowing Greg in the side.

Taylor looked at the two of them and sighed, stuffing her hands in her hoodie pockets.  “Whatever... so, what happens now?”

“Now, if you'll be so kind as to follow me?”  I asked, cuing open the door as it slid, soundlessly and seamlessly, to create a hole into the hallway.  “Oh, and if you'll drop the burner phones I gave you in the bin on your way out?  The teleport beacon burned them out anyway.”

“Oh, one time use tech?  So that even if someone tried to trigger it they'd...” Greg nodded as he dropped the phone into a small sconce in the wall, muttering about... things.

Taylor gave him an irritated glance, but did so as well, Aisha following with a... flounce was probably the best word for it, though she was dressed skankily enough that it didn't exactly fit.

“Okay, today is going to be a relatively short day for introductions and ground rules while you're employed by me.  For the most part it's going to be simple stuff, such as the first rule: 'Don't tell anyone anythingabout your powers, me, this place, or anything related to your work.”  I turned, giving them a severe stare, almost a glare.

“Don't talk about Fight Club, gotcha,” Aisha stated, snorting.

I blinked, cocking my head.

“How do youknow that movie?”  Greg asked, then held up his hands defensively when the girl have him the stink eye.  “I-I just mean that it doesn't really seem like the type of movie that someone like-er, I mean, you would-please don't hurt me!”

Aisha snickered as Taylor rolled her eyes.

“Wow, you're kinda a wuss...” Aisha grinned at his crestfallen look.  “I ain't gonna beat your ass or anything, tch.”  She turned to me.  “You sure this guy's got what it takes?”

Taylor looked to hold a similar opinion, if unspoken.

Greg, on the other hand, looked heartbroken.

“Frankly?”  I asked, raising an eyebrow.  “None of you have what it takes, currently.”

Taylor's eyes went wide, then narrowed, her thoughts contained behind an impassive expression.  Aisha looked... well, pissed.  Greg's expression, however, had lapsed into confusion instead of self-disgust.

“If I wanted people who 'had what it takes,' I would have chosen individuals with investigative skills, combat experience, strategic or tactical understanding, advanced computer skills, understanding of the political landscape around capes, and other things.”  I stated bluntly.

“Instead, you want neophytes, people who will be dependent on you to instruct them.”  Taylor replied, not without bitterness.

Greg shifted uncomfortably and Aisha scowled openly.

“I'm hardly asking you to enslave yourselves to me.”  I stated bluntly, crossing my arms.  “Besides... that wasn't the most important reason.”

All three teens blinked.

“The people who have those skills have spent significant time and investment in growing them.  That means they'll likely be adults.  Adults who have a certain way of viewing the world   Things which should and shouldn't be done... things which can't be done.”  I frowned as I looked off to the side.  “Misconceptions about what canbe done.”

“...okay, I'm not sure if I should be... um, inspired or scared.”  Greg stated with no little trepidation.

“What the whimpy white boy said.”  Aisha nodded, pointing to Greg, who deflated slightly.

“What exactlydo you want us to do?  Because it seems like you have a pretty firm goal already picked out.”  Taylor stepped forward, her voice shaking slightly, but her fists clenched in determination.

“I want to kill an Endbringer.”

Taylor, Greg, and Aisha reeled, their eyes wide as they nearly lost their footing in a backwards stumble.  It wasn't particular surprise, given I'd just told them the equivalent of wanting to turn the world into nacho cheese or give everyone animal ears.

“Yeah, and I want a million dollars, but you don't see me-”

I thoughtat the infrastructure of my base and a hole in the wall, not unlike a dumbwaiter door, split open, releasing a cascade of solid gold coins onto the floor.

Struck speechless for the second time that minute, the three teens stared at the pool of wealth that was building up past their ankles.

Another thoughtand it stopped.

“Let me rephrase,” I began, ensuring I had all of their attention this time.  “I am going to kill an Endbringer.  You may either leave this facility having taken one of the memory-alteration pills or you may sign on with me to cancel the apocalypse.  Choose.”

“I'm in.”

Both girls' heads heads snapped towards Greg in surprise.  The boy blinked, then blushed as he ducked his head under the attention.

“Greg?”  Taylor asked, her eyebrows creasing.

“I'm in.”  The boy repeated, more firmly this time, his expression solidifying.  “I... probably won't ever have a chance to do anything big like that ever again.  So... I'm in.  This is important, right?  This is my chance to... matter, to do something with my life.  If you're serious about it, I'm with you.”

Aisha had, at some point, picked up an blank gold coin, rolling it over her fingers.  She snorted and sent the coin spinning in the air with a flick of her thumb, raising her eyes to me.  “Eh, sure.  I was just gonna' sit around eating pizza at my bro's today anyway.”

Taylor opened her mouth, shut it, and finally settled for shaking her head in disbelief at Aisha's declaration.  Sighing, she nodded.  “You run the plans by us first, we get input, and we get to refuse it it's too dangerous.”

“That's fair.” I nodded, then with another thought a hole opened up and began to suck away the cascade of gold coins.

“Aww...” Aisha whined.  Although slightly more restrained, the other teens had similar looks of disappointment on their faces.

Aisha looked at the coin in her hand, then at me hopefully.

I shrugged.  “You'll have quarters on-base.  Keep it there and you can have it.  Don't take it home.  Showing off a gold coin would get you too much attention.”

Aisha grinned, then shot me an affronted look.  “Sure, sure, I ain't stupid.”

Greg tentatively raised his hand suddenly, Taylor shaking her head in exasperation again.

“Ask your question Greg,” I sighed.  “You're not in school, just keep it civil and I don't have a problem answers most questions.”

“Oh, right,” Greg flushed slightly.  “Um... I think someone probably should have asked this before, but... where are we?  I mean, obviously in your base, but is your base under Brockton, out in the bay or like in Africa or Antarctica or something?”

“We're in a bunker several miles deep in a version of the moon orbiting an alternate version of the Earth.  Current local year is nineteen-eleven.”  I stated, turning to continue the march towards our destination after the lengthy digression.

When there was a distinct absence of the sound of feet following me, I turned and raised an eyebrow at the sight of three hanging jaws.

I sighed.

This... was going to be my whole day.

*~*~*~*~*

“-and does that mean that timelines are divergent?!  Could I talk to another version of me that-”  I twisted around, pointed at Greg, and thought.

Greg flinched, ducking his head, before opening his mouth and flapping his gums at me silently.

I narrowed my gaze at him.  “Mute button, Greg.  I said you were allowed to asked questions, not to do so endlessly.  Nor will I allow you to chatter on when I have things I need to impart to you.  If I un-mute you, do you promise to contain your enthusiasm and stay silent unless you have a single question to ask at a time?”

Aisha smirked widely, while Taylor still had the social grace to smother her smile between a pair of thinly-pressed lips.

Greg nodded so rapidly I thought his head was going to fall off.

Why did I think this was a good idea again?

I waved my hand and the seamless door opened into the next chamber.