Taylor’s heroic side actually has a lot in common with Spiderman. Great power, great responsibility, all that jazz.
She’s nowhere near as good at the banter, though.
Tag: 11.5p2
“We should help her,” I growled the words, “I won’t fucking sleep tonight if I walk away from this.”
Taylor is a damn good character to put in her story role of “torn between heroism and villainy” because of how strongly she has the capacity for both.
On one hand, she’s good-hearted and definitely has a heroic attitude towards saving innocents, a tendency to take it upon herself to keep everyone else from harm’s way and an unhealthily strong guilt when she can’t, even if it’s not really something she’s responsible for in the first place.
On another hand, she also has a penchant for rebelliousness and can be quite inventively cruel when it serves her needs, which she’s pretty good at convincing herself is fine, and her power is well suited for villainy.
In short, she’s an amazing representation of chaotic good in a nominally villainous role.
That meant the teenage girl’s situation was especially grim. She couldn’t run, and if she didn’t give the crowd a show, they’d lose patience with her and treat her just as they had the other guy, or worse.
Ugh. Yeah, she’s fucked.
Not literally, if she’s lucky.
If she did give them a show? With the way emotions were running high, I expected things would turn ugly right around the moment the crowd started to get bored. Exhibitionism would only buy her time.
I suppose so. That could go worse than the alternative, even.
“Let’s go.” Lisa pulled on my arm.
Oh yeah, definitely want to avoid getting pulled into the same sort of situation.
“We should help her.”
Lisa glanced at the girl, “There’s at least a hundred people here that need help. We can’t save them all.”
Not without taking down the Merchants overall, unfortunately. And certainly not right now.
Someone climbed up onto the platform, grabbing at one of the women. He wasn’t up there for two seconds before the crowd dragged him down and threw him to the ground.
…well, at least there’s some form of protection for the women.
The people around him stomped and kicked him for his temerity.
Ooh, “temerity”. That’s a cool word I haven’t heard before.
That was social cooperation on a really twisted level. From my interpretation, they weren’t doing it for the women, but for themselves.
Oh, absolutely. “Don’t interrupt the show!”
“Don’t fuck this up for us!” “Don’t hog the goods!”
They all wanted the women, but if someone stepped up to take one for himself, they’d collectively beat him, for trying to take what they’d silently agreed to share by way of watching.
Sounds about right.
As if the clothes were what the crowd was there to see, and not the skin that was revealed while the women changed.
Of course. The Merchants are well known for being a fashion-minded sort, don’tcha know?
The teenage girl at the far right of the stand was another story. She was dark-haired and the makeup she wore looked like it had been applied by someone who hadn’t used makeup before.
Okay, if this one gets involved in the dressup game, I won’t be as okay with it.
She clutched the collar of her sweatshirt in both hands and stepped back as the crowd surged forward, reaching for her. Being barefoot, she couldn’t step down from the display platform without stepping onto broken glass, and any attempt at running would only lead her into the reaching mass of Merchants.
Eeesh. She clearly doesn’t want to be here… probably a kidnapped victim, like Bryce.
If she’d taken the same drugs as the other women, fear had already sobered her up. She looked entirely alert and she looked terrified. No red band on her wrist. She wasn’t here by choice.
Yeeah, that much was obvious even without the lack of her band.
In front of us, someone got tackled to the ground. His attacker began pounding at his face, while the people around them cheered.
Wooo!
Okay, yeah, I’m being sarcastic, but I do somewhat wonder what’s up with these two.
We detoured around that group, which brought us face to face with an exhibition.
Guess we’ll never find out.
So what’s this next exhibition at the Weymouth museum of debauchery?
The scene was set at the front of a woman’s clothing shop, and the window had been shattered. Where the mannequins stood in the display window, there were three women and a girl.
The mannequins make me think of Parian. I doubt she has anything to do with this, though.
The women were trying on their clothes, openly undressing and then dressing in whatever the throng of people around them threw their way.
…
…
…
we finally found something I can get behind
Their eyes had the glazed over looks of people who were on something, and their skin shone with a faint sheen of sweat. They smiled as they posed provocatively and hugged the mannequins, showing off the clothes.
…provided they’re doing this of their own free will.
People were dancing, fighting, clustering in groups or chanting. Sometimes two or three at a time.
To be fair, the first two can overlap, especially in the cases of cool fighting or bad dancing.
(Seriously, I’ve watched videos about what made Monty Oum’s fight animations so good, and it had a lot to do with how much like dancing it was.)
And hey, it’s not like you can’t chant in a tight group while you dance-fight, either.
As we found some breathing room, Lisa gathered the group together. I withdrew the picture, “We’re looking for this guy.”
Oh right, that’s still a thing. I’m not sure we can expect to see Bryce here in person, but it’s worth a shot.
Nobody disagreed or debated the point, not even Brooks. Senegal had dropped the smirk and was all business as he remained at my right shoulder, tall enough to see over the top of the gathered people.
Please stay that way.
On the far end of our group, Minor did much the same thing. That left Lisa and I between them. Brooks and Jaw left to go looking on their own.
Alright, see ya.
“Could’ve fucking told me,” I hissed. I wasn’t sure if she could hear me over the pounding music, but if anyone could fill in the blanks in what I’d said, it would be her.
How?
More people were pushing product and stolen goods at the edges of the mall, some pimped others or prostituted themselves, while yet others were scrounging through the stores and then offering their finds for cash or barter.
Are we moving on from the in-depth descriptions of the casual debauchery around here? I hope so.
The roof at the center of the mall had collapsed and what remained was shored up, but there was a gaping hole that was open to the darkening sky. Beneath that hole, the party was already underway.
Honestly, this place barely qualifies as a party by any reasonable standards. It’s more like… a barrel full of surströmming, lutefisk, drugs and semen, being blasted with terrible music and bad energy from all directions.
But at least the fish seem to be enjoying it despite the simile sort of implying they’re all dead, so I guess maybe that counts.
“I dunno,” I answered her, feeling legitimately nervous. I didn’t want to refuse her outright and blow our cover, but I definitely didn’t want to get high.
Yeah, figured as much. It’s not really Taylor’s thing.
I was uncomfortable enough with the idea to begin with, but doing it here, in this kind of chaos?
And while you’re here for a specific, undercover purpose?
“Trust me,” she told me.
Obediently, I opened my mouth.
I guess she has a plan. That, or she Knows the pills to be fake.
She pressed one small pill down on my tongue. I closed my mouth. She turned to Brooks and gave him one as well.
As our bodyguards led us through the crowd, she leaned over until our heads were touching, “Sugar pills. A little sleight of hand on my part. Just for appearances. Don’t stress.”
Ahh. A bit of both, then! I guess she came prepared for this, and probably picked Decadence because it looks the most like the pills she brought.
He looked around, stared at her for a few seconds, then conceded, “Eight.”
She drives a hard bargain.
“For me and two of my buddies here. That’s twenty-four bucks?”
The man nodded eagerly, “Twenty-four.”
Hm, seems like a per-package deal. Unless that’s one gram or less per person, it’s a bit cheaper than I thought.
I don’t know drug prices. I think that’s a good thing.
She forked over a ten and a twenty and collected her change and three pills. She turned to me, “Open up. It’s ecstasy.”
…you sure about this?
I really doubt Taylor is.
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