Another major counterpoint to that theory: We know well by now that the specifics of the powers are hereditary, though mutating.

Which, by the way, probably explains just why trigger events are so much easier for second-gen parahumans. While their parents had to go through something incredibly upsetting to get the powers in the first place, the kids have mutations of those powers in them all along and just need a trigger event (that matches the powerset, if that is indeed a thing) to unlock them.

…is flight and supernatural intimidation against the rules of our world’s basketball?

krixwell-liveblogs:

What if Taylor falls asleep here and wakes up at the PRT HQ?

Wait, no, that doesn’t work, the PRT HQ was destroyed by Leviathan.

I guess they have to have somewhere else to keep the newly arrested villains, though.

I hated this.  Hated not knowing, not having any information about what had just happened, what was happening, what was going to happen.

It always comes back to this, doesn’t it. Information. Knowledge. The insecurities and risks tied to not having that, the things having it can let you get away with, the power you wield against the world when you know what you’re up against well.

On the other hand, Wildbow killed off the one character who by all means should have the most of this power in this Arc.

Unless it turns out I’m wrong and Taylor was right to doubt the armband’s definition of “losses”, but while I’m not happy that Tattletale seems to be gone, that would feel like something of a cop-out at this point. Her death was well-written. Let her have that.

Whatever was going on with my back, it prevented me from sitting up, denied me the use of my abdominal muscles.  I could only work with my shoulders, my head, my teeth.

This sounds… familiar. It reminds me of Interlude 6.

Shifting the pillow over several long minutes, I managed to gingerly ease it under my shoulder and upper arm.  Provided I didn’t move -which I couldn’t, really- it gave my arm something to rest on, prevented all of the weight from dangling off of my cuffed wrist.

Ah, nice. I was half right, I suppose.

Of course, I was now absent one pillow for my head and neck, and the propped up shoulder and arm made my back twist slightly, which only intensified the pain there.

Yeeah, this came at a cost.

I closed my eyes, focused on just breathing, tried not to pay too much attention to how slowly time was passing by, or the cacaphony of noise from the rest of the triage area.

Sometimes, when in pain, it can be good to try to sleep. It’s an escape, but it’s an escape that lets your body rest a bit and focus its energy on repairing the thing that’s causing the pain while you don’t have to consciously deal with the pain or the long hours of the recuperation.

If that was what was going on, being manacled like this would be something of a slap in the face, a way of letting me know it was intentional, while keeping me from contacting anyone to complain.

Technically, Taylor could put up a huge sign saying “Help I’m trapped in a healthy person factory” outside, as long as it’s within four blocks and there are enough bugs left in the area.

My arm shifted involuntarily as I cringed at a painful intake of breath, swinging a little, and I clenched my teeth.

I turned my head, gripped the fabric of my pillow with my teeth, tugged and pulled my head forward at the same time.  It moved to my left.

What are you trying to accomplish here? 

I did it again, bumped my shoulder, making my arm swing on the chain once more.  I suppressed the noise I might’ve made at the pain, choked back the gorge that rose in my throat.

Oh, she’s trying to move the arm further, into a position that’s less painful.

Because when people started doing that, the truce broke and things became ten times easier for the Endbringer.

Ek-fucking-zactly.

The manacle on my wrist made me wonder.  I’d made some enemies with the good guys.  Maybe I was getting some rough treatment because of it.

One ominous idea nagged at me, and I couldn’t get it out of my head.  It was that I might not get any treatment at all – for my back, specifically – because of grudges against me and capes who could ‘suggest’ that maybe the doctors’ resources could be better directed elsewhere.

Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that since the end of the last chapter… it’s not a pleasant idea.

If they went that route, one hundred percent deniable, excusable, then there’d be nothing I could do about it.

Pretty much the only thing you could do then would be to drag yourself out the door by one arm, get out of your costume, and drag yourself back in as Taylor “totally not the villain with the exact same injuries and other physical characteristics who just dragged herself out the door in the same manner” Hebert.

…this kind of gag works a lot better when you actually know the person by a two-part name.

I made myself take a deep breath.  It shuddered as I exhaled slowly, and not just because it hurt to breathe.

I couldn’t do anything about my back, in the here and now.  My arm?  Maybe.

…how?

The metal pole was fixed to the wall at every foot or so by horizontal bars, and the end of the manacle was stopped from descending any further by one of the bits that extended to the wall, three feet or so above my head.

I wonder if Taylor could pick the lock with her bugs or something. I feel like most bugs wouldn’t be strong enough, though.

I couldn’t really believe they were going to arrest me.  Like Tattletale had said, there were rules.  Largely unspoken rules, but still more important than anything else in the cape community.  You didn’t profit from an Endbringer attack, you didn’t attack your nemeses or take advantage of undefended areas to steal.  You didn’t arrest a villain that came to help.

Exactly! It’s fucking cheating!

Besides, it’s actively against the PRT’s interests to do this kind of thing. Next time there’s an Endbringer, do they think anywhere near as many villains are going to show up to help, the word having spread that there’s a risk the PRT will just arrest them the moment the Endbringer has beaten them up enough?