“I can’t tell you how excited I am. It’s like Christmas, opening a present! Thank you!”
There we go, she’s out of scientific exposition mode and back to adorkable mode.
She bent down and kissed me squarely in the center of the forehead.
Did this cause shipping?
I mean, it doesn’t seem like it should, but it takes so little for some people to start shipping something, regardless of how fucked up it is. In both directions, in this case.
When she sat up, there was crimson all over her lips and chin. She wiped most of it away with the back of her hand, uncaring.
Yeah, you don’t have this kind of power and style and care about getting a little bloody.
It stung, and I was momentarily blind before I managed to blink the worst of it away. I wanted to blink more, faster, but the response was sluggish at best. I couldn’t tell if my contacts were helping or hurting matters.
I guess at least they’d be shielding the pupil from the blood? Unless they started sliding.
I was put in mind of the incident just days before I’d gone out in costume. The bathroom stall, the showering in juice.
…oh yeah, this is absolutely the kind of situation where Skitter’s power would get a boost.
In fact, we’ve already seen that mentioned, indirectly. Her usual range is 2-3 blocks unless it’s grown again, but with the subconscious commanding, she pulled bugs from five blocks away.
It had started with cranberry juice in my eyes and hair. How had I gotten from there to here?
Her progress through the fabric of my mask was slow. She stopped to clear loose material from around the tool.
Turns out underneath Taylor’s mask is another mask.
And another one underneath that one.
And so on.
“Don’t worry. I’ll put your skull’s contents back when I’m done looking.
Very reassuring, thank you.
Then we can get to the real fun.”
She peeled my mask off.
Shit, I should’ve saved my joke about there being more masks underneath for this line.
Breathe in, breathe out. Don’t want to pass out. Or maybe I should? Maybe I didn’t want to be conscious for what came next.
Unless you think you have a way to stop it, I wouldn’t recommend it, no. But I’m not sure Bonesaw would let you be asleep while she performs her art.
…I just realized why I came to think of that option: Cupcakes. Pinkiesaw won’t let Skitter Dash doze off there, because she wants to have fun with her friend before the end and can’t have said friend sleeping through it.
Her scalpel slid across my forehead, so fast and precise that it barely hurt. I caught a glimpse of her untangling her fingers and her scalpel from my long hair before the first dribbles of blood flooded down into my eyes.
This chapter’s existence just made the Cupcakes April Fool’s gag even more dramatically ironic, didn’t it? 😛
Let’s have a look at what’s in Taylor’s head, shall we?
Breathe in, breathe out. I was having to consciously maintain my breathing. Whatever her dust had done to me, it had also jammed up the part that handled the more automatic things.
Hm, I wonder if that’s important somehow.
My pounding heart wasn’t in sync with the speed of my breathing, and I was beginning to feel dizzy and disoriented. Or maybe that was the powder. Or fear.
I mean, to the functionality of the gemma or to the escape. It’s obviously important to Taylor in the moment.
“But I haven’t been able to find it. It’s not physically there, or it’s so small that I haven’t been able to track it down.
Maybe it’s not enough to look up, down, left, right, back and forwards. Maybe it’s attached along the fourth dimension we can’t look in?
If your ‘passenger’ is strong enough to let you work around a disabled Gemma, if your powers work without your say-so, maybe it’ll be easier to spot.”
So not only did the subconscious command not take out Bonesaw, it gave her an objective.
She began feeling around my mask for a seam, buckle or zipper, searching.
So, uh, how did you attach this, Taylor?
She talked as she grabbed the part of my mask that bordered my scalp and tried to peel my mask down towards my chin. “So you can see why I find it very interesting that you still have the ability to control bugs, even when your Gemma is out of order.”
Makes sense. Gotta find that subconscious controller.
She gave up on pulling my mask down. The armor panels made it too difficult, and the fabric wouldn’t tear. She snapped her fingers, and one of her mechanical spiders stepped close. She removed one of the tools at the tip of the spider’s leg – a small mechanical circular saw.
“…getting this mask off is clearly not a job for human hands alone.”
It buzzed like a dentist’s drill as she turned it on. She began taking my mask apart, thread by thread.
Time for a face reveal, it seems. And quite likely a brain reveal, if Taylor’s unlucky.
“I’m ten times as excited to take your brain apart, now! You might give me a clue about the passenger.
I guess that’s her nickname for the part responsible for the subconscious or instinctive use of powers?
See, I think it’s something that’s hooked into your brain. It was alive up until your powers kicked in, it helped form the Corona, then it broke down.
Ohh, interesting. She seems to be suggesting that the Dandelions left something behind.
I’ve seen it at work when I’ve provoked and recorded trigger events, seen it die after. But I’m pretty sure some kind of trace is still there, linked in, cooperating with us and tapping into all those outside forces you and I can’t even comprehend, to make our power work.”
She angled my head and stared into my goggles with her mismatched eyes. “Dealio is, the Corona’s way too small to be doing what it’s doing. As parahumans, our brains are doing these amazing things.
“Dealio”.
And yeeah, there’s a limit to how far you can stretch the scientific explanations of these powers.
The framework, all the details our minds are using to decide what works and what doesn’t, the sheer potential, even the energy we’re using, it’s too much for our brains to process, and it’s waaaay too much for a growth that’s no bigger than a kiwi.
That’s still bigger than I was imagining, but I suppose it’s a reasonable size.
All of that? It’s got to come from somewhere. And the other reason you can’t just carve out the Corona? If you do, the powers still work on their own. The person just can’t control them. It becomes instinctive, instead.”
She tilted my head back and felt around the edges of my mask, trying to find the part where she could pull it off. “I’m really good at figuring out where the Corona and the Gemma are. I can even guess most of the time, if I know what powers the person has. And I can pry it wide open, make it so the powers can’t be turned off, or I can temporarily disable it, or modify it. The powder I blew into your face? It has the same prions I put in the darts I shot your friends with.
Prions?
Assuming that’s just a more specific term for the things that make the power stop working, we kind of already figured that out.
Cripples the Gemma, but it leaves your powers intact. Can’t experiment with your abilities if I’ve fried your whole Corona Pollentia, right? Right.”
“It’s interesting,” she said. I felt small hands on me, and she heaved me over so I was staring at the ceiling, and at her. Clouds of what looked like steam were rising around her. From the test tubes?
Yeah, looks like Taylor’s going first.
It was having the same effect on my bugs that the aerosol had. She’d erected some kind of gaseous barrier.
Ahh.
“See, there’s this part of the brain that people who study parahumans call the Corona Pollentia, not to be confused with the Corona Radiata.
Pollentia… just looking at the word without looking it up, it sounds like it might have something to do with growth or reproduction, possibly in a metaphorical sense.
It’s a part of the brain that’s different in parahumans, and it’s the part that’s used to manage powers, when the powers can be managed.
Nice. We’re going there, explaining some of the biology behind this stuff.
More specifically, there’s this part of the Corona they call the Gemma, that controls the active use of the power, the same way there are parts of the brain that allow us to coordinate and move our hands.”
So does that mean there’s a part for the passive, subconscious use of the power? Maybe something’s wired up backwards for Imp.
She ran her fingers over my exposed scalp, massaging it, as if she were feeling the shape of my head. “The size, shape and location of the Corona and the Gemma changes from parahuman to parahuman, but it tends to sit between the frontal and the parietal lobe. Beneath the ‘crown’ of the head, if you will.
Alright, so fairly centrally.
They can’t really lobotomize the Corona in criminals. Some of that’s because the location and shape of the Corona depends on the powers and how they work, and trial and error doesn’t work with the scary bad guys who can melt flesh or breathe lasers.”
Ah, yeah, that might be a problem.
And then there’s potential side effects.
Like, what if the corona only keeps their control of the power, not the power itself, making the power go haywire after the removal? Or what if removing it damages other parts of the brain?
“And I can turn pain off like I’m flicking a switch. Don’t want to do that on a permanent basis, but it does make this easier to deal with.”
Huh, neat.
So I wasn’t even hurting her. Damn it.
“It’s still annoying.”
Well, fuck, you may have just made yourself the first patient.
Or maybe the last. It depends on whether or not she sees her operation as a punishment or as a privilege.
I could feel my bugs congregating on her as she put the aerosol down and fumbled around inside her pockets. Test tubes: I could feel the long, smooth glass. She dropped something into each, then stabbed the aerosol can.
…something to make it more effective?
The smoke that plumed out killed most of the bugs in the area. I couldn’t follow what she did with the can and the test tubes.
“This is annoying,” I heard Bonesaw comment. I couldn’t see her in my field of view, which was primarily limited to the floor, Imp’s mask and if I looked as far to my left as I could manage, the fridge that held Brian.
How well are your protections holding up?
I do suspect that this alerting Regentesis is going to be the more important consequence of this attack.
Few of the bugs were getting past that spray, and even the droplets of the spray that had settled lingered on Bonesaw’s skin, hair and clothing were enough to kill or incapacitate them on contact.
This spray is really serious business for the bugs, huh.
(By the way, I think Wildbow missed a word he meant to erase.)
I was unable to respond to her statement. I focused on breathing, and taking in every detail I could. My eyes could still move, my fingertips could twitch, but nothing else.
Man, the damage Ballistic could do with a couple twitchy fingertips if his power wasn’t suppressed.
“Just so you know, I’ve rendered myself immune to all those pesky little venoms and allergens,” she said.
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