— Success chance: 70%
— General results: Taylor will use the final power use she will allow herself to use on Sophia. Will stagnate Sophia's relationship with Taylor (allowing some minor room for growth over time but preventing Taylor from deepening their relationship), but provides an immediate +3 to Lust and makes Sophia more likely to accept sexual advances.
— On a success: Raises Sophia's Loyalty by 1. Makes Taylor use her power on Sophia, causing Sophia to fully submit to Taylor's control by having her accept Taylor's status in their relationship. May provide a scene in which Sophia takes off her shirt and bra in front of Taylor on school grounds.
— On a failure: Makes Taylor user her power on Sophia, causing Sophia to submit to Taylor's control, but will enable Sophia to continue the fight for control at a later date. May provide a scene in which Taylor plays with a clothed Sophia on school grounds.
[]You've been manipulating Sophia for two weeks. Now it's time to do something you never imagined you'd do; it's time to learn more about Sophia as a person. Much as with Madison, you're fairly sure there is more to Sophia than just the bully. There are secrets you're unlikely to learn, but now that you've filed away the rough edges Sophia liked to point at you, it's time to step back and stop manipulating her with your power.
— Success chance: 80%
— General results: Pairs Sophia and Taylor in Chemistry for a weeks-long project, allowing them a chance to interact in a non-hostile and non-sexual manner. Taylor will stop using her power on Sophia before being entirely sure on Sophia's loyalty. Will not result in Sophia backsliding, but will feel like an admission of trust to Taylor. Will enable 'romantic' paths with Sophia similar to Madison's, although with themes of control and trust rather than domination and submission, and obviously with Sophia as a character instead of Madison, resulting in different plotlines to Madison's relationship (obviously). Will not immediately result in Taylor learning much about Sophia, but will open up further paths in which Sophia softens to her.
— On a success: Will raise Sophia's Affection by 2. Will result in Sophia telling Taylor about why she joined the track team and her hopes for her future career (without admitting that she is a cape).
— On a failure: Will raise Sophia's Affection by 1. Will result in Sophia telling Taylor about her strugges with schoolwork.
Spoiler: Stat Gains/Losses
Stat gains:
Charlotte:
+1 Loyalty
Sophia Hess:
+2 Lust
+2 Loyalty
+2 Intrigue
1.12
> Success chance: 80%.
> Necessary roll: 20. Rolled: 54. Success.
Wednesday morning rolls around, and for once, you're actually feeling good about going to school. You have a cute girl waiting for you, and you're fairly sure that Sophia is now more interested in sexually harassing you than in throwing taunts at you or pushing you around.
Dad's already left by the time you're up and clattering about. There's a note for you sitting on the table— 'Taylor, had to leave early, union dispute. I'll pick you up around 5 from school so we can go to that meeting. Love, Dad.'
You tuck the note into your pocket so you won't forget, then rush out to meet the bus before it leaves without you.
As usual, the bus is running a little behind schedule by the time it pulls up in front of Winslow. Ostensibly, you're supposed to be here no later than half an hour before the bell for first period rings. Your bus has to drive around through some of the more run-down areas in Brockton Bay, though, and thus the bus drivers all naturally slow down and give way to everything and everyone, not willing to risk accidentally pissing off a gang member just to get you to school a little bit earlier. You're nearly fifteen minutes late by the bus's schedule by the time you get there.
You're not in any rush today, so you don't mind it too much. You chalk it up as being one of the Bay's many idiosyncracies and move on.
Madison's left you another card— this one soft blue, without a message from Terry on it— in your locker, atop a small lunchbox. The meals have been getting better in quality; you're not sure if that's because Madison is accustoming herself to your tastes, or if she's getting more pushy at home when she makes them. You hope it's the first.
When you arrive in first period, you slide in beside Madison and give her a one-armed hug in thanks. She beams and snuggles against your side, staying there until the teacher arrives and coughs pointedly at the two of you, at which point she lets go with a pout at him. You take her hand beneath the table and she settles down a little, a content smile on her face as she focuses on her schoolwork.
That lasts up until second period— World Issues, with Mr Gladly— where Madison reluctantly has to let go of you and make her way to sit beside a boy— Henry? Whatever, one of the sportier boys at the school. For a moment, you're tempted to try to use your power on him, but you refrain. You're not sure you want a guy to admire you that much, even if it would get you another seat beside Madison.
Instead, you just try to focus on your classwork over the next few periods. World Issues is one of Madison's weakest classes, anyway. You probably need to pay attention here so you can go over it with Madison during tutoring later. She's not as bad in Maths and English, but you try to focus through them anyway. It gives you something to do other than glare at whoever's sitting beside her, anyway.
Eventually, the bell for lunch rings, and you hurry through the dimly-lit halls to get to your locker. You're quick enough that you manage to miss the footsteps behind you until you pull out the lunch Madison had prepared for you and close your locker, revealing Madison's smiling face behind it. You start, dropping the lunch.
Madison's hands dart forwards, fumbling to catch the lunch. She just manages to, giving you a look just as startled as your own.
"Sorry," she says contritely. "I thought you heard me."
"I didn't hear anything," you say. Absently, you wonder what she's doing here, but you dismiss the thoughts after a moment's consideration. "Did you want to have lunch together?" You're pretty sure that without Emma and Sophia harassing you, it should be safer. Maybe not safe, but safer. Worth the risk, now.
She nods enthusiastically. "Yeah!" she says, excitement leaking into her tone. "Um, there's a place I know where not many people go. We could go there for lunch?"
"Sure." You pause, then think about it. "Where is this place?"
"Oh, it's over in the courtyard." She gestures vaguely in that direction. "There's a little area where they planted a tree and some shrubs."
You know the place. It had been during one of Winslow's many attempts to try and spruce the school up, and like all the others, had failed when it became clear that most of the students just didn't care. The shrubs had nearly caught fire after someone had flicked a lit cigarette butt in there, and only the timely intervention of the school's automated sprinker system had saved the little corner of greenery from being burnt entirely to the ground. Over a thousand dollars worth of greenery had burned down in the meantime. A few years later, the little corner was doing well for itself, but the school had decided it wasn't worth investing in again considering the potential for a repeat occurrence.
You lead Madison over to the corner, and pull her down to sit beside you behind the tree. You immediately see why she suggested it. It isn't quite hidden from view from the rest of the courtyard, but you have to be both standing up and looking over directly at the tree to see you. It makes sense, you suppose— if the area was well-hidden, you suspect that it'd be seeing a lot more use than it is.
Emma and Sophia are sitting in the courtyard, not far from your tree, when you arrive. You ignore the two of them, pulling Madison over to the little copse and tucking yourself in behind it.
You sit down and spread your legs. Madison sits between them and pulls herself up against you, allowing you to wrap one arm around her as you slowly eat your lunch. When you finish the wrap she'd made for you, you wait patiently for her to finish eating her own wrap, then hand her the small punnet of sliced strawberries she'd put in with your lunch today. She gives you a quizzical look for a moment before understanding dawns in her eyes, and she obediently turns in your arm and begins feeding them to you. You take your time, enjoying Madison watching you with lidded eyes as you occasionally stop to suck the strawberry juices off her fingers.
You're thoroughly enjoying yourself, right up until the moment some jerk spoils it for you.
Some guy— you don't recall seeing him before, but you don't pay much attention to most of the people at Winslow— walks past with a group of his friends, sneering at you. He's dressed typically for someone who goes to Winslow, wearing a hand-me-down leather jacket and denim jeans that had been patched one too many times for you to pretend not to notice.
"Dykes," he growls as he walks past. His friends sneer at the two of you, some making disgusted faces and some leering at the two of you. One of them even puts two fingers up in a V-shape and lashes his tongue between them, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
You sneer back at them once their backs have turned. It probably won't escalate to violence here at school— LGBT rights have progressed that much over the last few years, at least— but you're not willing to provoke a group of boys who might well be gang members. Outside of school, it's a very different matter. They'll probably let it go if you don't provoke them.
Still, it's ruined the mood. You look mournfully at the last few strawberries as Madison leans back against you, fingers faintly trembling as she looks uneasily in the direction the men had gone. You tighten your arms around her and pull her against you.
You stifle a sigh so Madison can't feel it.
It looks like you still have some work cut out for you if you want to be able to have faux-dates with Madison at school.
You've only just finished tutoring Madison for the day and walking her out to the front door when Dad pulls up in his rickety old car. Madison pauses when she sees it, but eventually shrugs. For a moment, you wonder how she knew it was your car— then you remember that Dad had driven to the dinner at Emma's, and she'd probably seen it then.
You give her one last hug goodnight, refraining from giving her a goodbye kiss in front of your Dad, and walk briskly over to the car. He gives you an odd look after your interaction with your girl, but doesn't comment on that.
"You ready, Taylor?" he asks, giving you a smile as he pulls away from the curb.
You nod seriously. "Yeah," you reply.
The two of you chat casually about hospital work as Dad drives you over to the clinic. The path there isn't the safest, so Dad has to take it slow and careful— Winslow isn't in the greatest of areas to begin with, and New Wave has funded most of these clinics with the stipulations that they be built in some of the worst parts of the Bay. From what you understand, the original proposals had had them being built in some of the better off areas in the Bay, closer to Downtown and the like— areas where the people who need the clinics most couldn't readily access them. New Wave had shut that down, pointing out that ready access to the clinics was the entire point.
New Wave might have funded the clinics, but even they couldn't afford to pour enough money into them to pretty them up. That's immediately obvious almost as soon as you get on the same block as it and actually see the clinic itself. It's painted an ugly, bland white; from here, you can see a man in his early twenties scrubbing away with a large bristled brush at the walls, where someone's drawn some dark red graffiti on it. There are two wilted potted plants sitting out the front, the frost having taken its toll on the ferns.
It all clashes with the much more sterile interior, you find once Dad has parked the car and walked you inside. The outside might look kind of run-down, but inside, everything has been mopped and scrubbed to sterile perfection. There's a small waiting room off to the side, where three people— one white man with a gaunt, hallow face and pockmarked skin, a black man currently busy absently scratching at his skin as he stares at a wall, and an Asian woman cradling a baby to her chest as she coos down at the gurgling child— sit in front of a small TV mounted to the wall, waiting for their turn to be called up.
You and Dad walk up to the counter, giving the security guards— two large, beefy men standing taller than even Dad, dressed in body armour and wielding large stun batons and what you recognize as PRT-issued foam launchers— a wide berth as you go.
The receptionist gives the two of you a bored look as you stand in front of her. "Yes?" she asks, tone professionally disinterested.
"Danny Hebert and Taylor Hebert," he replies. "We have an appointment with Doctor Fitzgerald."
"One moment." She clatters away on her keyboard for a few moments, likely searching for the doctor's schedule. Eventually, she finds it. "I see," she says eventually. "Doctor Fitzgerald's office can be found through the hall to the right. Walk to the end, then turn left. It's the door at the end of that hall."
You politely thank the woman and follow Dad as he follows the woman's instructions. Eventually, you end up in front of a door with a clear plastic container hanging within it, a small wooden stick with painted gold letters spelling out 'FITZGERALD' stuck behind it. Dad knocks, and a moment later a voice calls out a perfunctory, "Yes, yes, come in." You can't help but hear a harassed note in the doctors' voice— something you confirm a moment later when you stretch your powers over to him for a second, taking in the stress and fear running through him, as well as the solid undercurrent of determination threaded through with compassion.
He looks up at the two of you as you enter, taking in your appearances and nodding to himself. "Miss Hebert, I assume?" he asks. You nod, and he continues. "Excellent. I'm glad you're here. We have a lot to cover."
For the next hour— hour and fifteen minutes, actually, going by your watch— Doctor Fitzgerald goes over everything. And you mean everything.
He starts with the duties expected of you— "General maintenance of the grounds and buildings, mostly, and perhaps some cataloguing if you can prove you're up to the task." You make a noise of protest at that, but he quickly points out that you have no health and safety training, let alone training in medical procedures. It's not only unsafe for you, the clinic could get in actual legal trouble if they allowed you to perform medical procedures without proper training and review. Which, well— it's annoying, but okay, you can understand that.
