But she's a deadly bitch, and that's what has you scared.
Iron Rain's power seems similar to Hookwolf's, inasmuch as she's able to summon and control shifting masses of metal. That's about where the similarities end, though. Where Hookwolf summons metal over his own body and essentially uses it to "shift shape", Iron Rain is able to summon pieces of metal in the air, and even rain those pieces of metal down as she pleases. She's demonstrated some form of magnetic control, as she's shown herself to be able to control the direction and speed of the falling pieces of metal. She does seem to be limited in how fast they can go, and she doesn't seem to be able to make them rise in the air, but that hardly makes her any less deadly.
If you're going to face her in combat— well, you're not. There's no way you're ready for somebody as ridiculous as that. You feel like you'd need half the capes in the city on your team in order to tackle somebody who can, quite literally, rain death from above.
No, you think you'll stay right the hell away from Iron Rain for the time being. If you encounter her, try to stay under cover as much as possible, and just get the hell out of there as soon as possible.
Vista
Vista is somebody you've been a little bit interested in for a few months now. Not because she's a powerful cape, although she is that, and not because she's an experienced one, although she is that, too. No, you're interested in Vista because she's just so pretty. She reminds you of Madison, in that you don't think you'd mind staring at her for hours on end.
You're pretty sure that Vista is the youngest member of the Wards in Brockton Bay, although you can't confirm that. She's definitely the shortest, though, and the most petite. Her costume almost seems designed to obfuscate her age somewhat, but she's been active as a cape for too long for that to really be effective. There are images of her as a cape stretching back for years, which actually vaguely horrifies you a little. She looks to be younger than even Rune did, although you're pretty sure she's at least a teenager now, if not far into her teens. Thirteen or fourteen. If she's thirteen or fourteen now, and she's been in the Wards for literally years, then she must have been as young as nine or ten when she first joined. And her time in there hasn't been entirely inactive, although from everything you can see, the older members of the Wards and the Protectorate members have made every effort to keep her out of combat where they can.
It makes you feel a little perverted to admit it, but Vista really is an attractive girl. Your hands shake a little as you consider her. She actually is really young. The knowledge that you're seriously considering seducing someone who's barely into her teens... turns you on, actually turns you on quite a lot, but makes you feel a little queasy too. At least, when you look at a picture of Vista from two years ago, it doesn't stir the same feelings inside you. You're not sure you could handle being attracted to a prepubescent girl. Even if you'd never act on it either way, at least you can reassure yourself with that thought.
Your feelings on Vista are a little complicated, you have to admit. There's a faint thread of revulsion in your stomach even now, even acknowledging that she's actually in her teens, but it's drowned out by faint feelings of lust— and, more strongly, feelings of protectiveness. What kind of fucked-up person could hurt a child, even if that child is a cape? Then you check yourself. Do you really have any room to talk, considering the thoughts you're having about her?
Either way, you shelve your notes on Vista at that, stomach roiling with nerves. Maybe, maybe that's another thing you can just... push off for future Taylor to deal with. Not dealing with being attracted to Vista sounds like a perfect idea to you right now.
Parian
Parian is somebody you're interested in for an entirely different reason to your interest everyone else. It feels a little weird even to you that you have to make a distinction between people you want to seduce and people you actually have a legitimate interest in you, but it's not a bad kind of weird. Just the same kind of weird you experience when Dad accidentally buys low-fat milk instead of full-cream milk. Like you'd gotten used to something and had it suddenly change on you.
Parian is quickly becoming a famous name in Brockton Bay. The Bay doesn't have a lot of rogues in town; most of them tend to head to the bigger towns like New York, where they have substantially larger client bases and there are a lot more heroes in town to help protect them. Nobody is quite sure why Parian set her business up here, but the mayor was certainly grateful for it when she announced her decision.
Her store's website advertises her as a fashion designer and clothing maker. There's an entire separate page on her prices for costumes for parahumans, but you're not particularly concerned about those at the moment— you don't have anyone you need costumes for, and you're pretty sure any prices that justify making an entire page for themselves are so far beyond your reach that looking at them will depress you. No, you're interested in something rather different.
It's not a use you would have considered, but a part of the rogue's powerset involves the control over thread— at least, as far as anyone on PHO can tell. You'd think this would limit her to just sewing, but there are applications of that that you hadn't considered. For example: lace. The problem with the production of lace has never been the production of the raw materials, just how difficult it is to actually make the lace. Once upon a time, people had used needle and thread to sew lace. Nowadays, it's usually done via machine, but it doesn't usually end up as good as it used to look. Parian's power, however, is perfect for exactly that. And, utilizing exactly the same thought process you immediately leapt to, she moved on to creating the perfect items with her lace production capabilities; that is, lingerie for women.
You don't click on the page to open it, because you happen to know that one of the models Parian utilizes for her catalogue is Emma, after a lengthy negotiation with Alan regarding the legality of minors modeling underwear. Your feelings about Emma are complicated enough— you don't need to feel the urge to masturbate to images of her in lacey lingerie on top of all that.
Her address is listed prominently on the website, though, ostensibly so customers could physically visit her shop and view her wares. You write the address down in your notebook, and make a physical note, letters thick and underlined— Take Madison to visit Parian!
You're forced to close your research hurriedly when you eventually look at the time and see the clock reading twelve past one. Hurriedly rushing to the bathroom, you yank a towel out of the hallway closet as you go, ignoring Dad's bemused expression as you run past him.
One quick shower later, you run out of the bathroom clad in nothing but a towel and skid over to your room, searching madly through your underwear drawer. So much of your underwear is so boring. And by so much of it, you mean all of it. Dad buys your clothes, and you're not going to ask him to buy you sexy lingerie. That's weird. In the end, you throw on just a pair of green panties, then hurriedly get dressed in the first t-shirt and pair of jeans you can find so you can run out to the living room, where Dad just raises an eyebrow at you.
"Dad!" you say urgently. "Can you drive me over to Madison's please?!"
He gives you a slightly alarmed look. "Sure," he says cautiously. "Is there something wrong, Taylor?"
You shake your head wildly, your hair spinning around and throwing little droplets of water everywhere. "No, nothing's wrong, I just told her I'd be over at two and I lost track of time. I'm going to be late, come on, come on!" You run over and try to tug on his wrist to get him to stand up further, but he just grins at you and continues to sit passively, watching your efforts to get him to stand up. "Come on, Dad!" you whine.
He chuckles and stands up. You let go of his wrist and pout at him from behind as he ambles slowly over to the kitchen and retrieves his car keys from the fruit bowl in there, then drags his feet out to the car. "Daaaad," you moan when he's halfway there. He just throws you a cheeky grin and pokes his tongue out at you when he finally gets in the car. You hurry over and climb in the passenger seat beside him, just he turns and raises an eyebrow at you.
"What took you so long, Taylor?" he asks. You just groan and let your head fall against the console of the car.
You arrive at Madison's house a little after two, looking anxiously around to make sure that Alan's car isn't still here. It's not, but you do notice Madison looking down at you through her window in her bedroom on the second floor as you approach. She disappears, and a few moments later, the door swings open, revealing your girl standing behind it.
Throwing out a quick "Thanks Dad!" behind you, you hurry over and pull her inside, closing the door behind you. There, you pull Madison into a tight hug, ignoring Terry standing behind her and making gagging noises as he pretends to vomit over the floor.
"Ew, girl hugs," he says with a shudder, and toddles off towards his bedroom.
Eventually, you pull back from Madison so you can peer down at her and see her shining eyes. "Come on," you say, and you grab her hand and lead her up to her bedroom.
There's a lock on Madison's door that wasn't here last time you were here. When she sees you looking, she blushes and looks down, but you can see she looks a little proud of herself. "I put that on there," she says proudly. "In case, um. Well, so nobody can walk in on us."
You pat her ass gently. "Good girl," you purr, and lock the door before you pull her over to the bed. She follows you over, still blushing heavily, and attempts to pull herself into your side, but you hold her away and look her over critically. She's dressed in a skirt today, which is good, but she's dressed in a t-shirt. Less good.
"Take your shirt off," you instruct her. She immediately obeys your command, folding the t-shirt nicely and placing it gently on the edge of her bed. "Good girl. Now, where do you keep your shirts?" She points silently at a dresser over against the far wall, a mammoth thing easily twice the size of your own. You're a little jealous. "Good girl," you praise her again, and she preens a little. "Now, I'm going to find you a shirt more suited for you today. Is that okay?"
She nods, giving you a happy smile. "Yeah, okay," she agrees readily. "If you want me to wear something I will, that's fine."
You nod sharply. "Good," you say. "Take off your bra and panties while I find you a shirt."
Madison has a lot of shirts, but it's not hard to find one that suits your needs. You only need to find one that buttons up at the front, after all. When you turn back, you find her neatly folding her panties atop her shirt; when she's done with that, she sits straight back up, revealing that she's also taken her bra off. Her nipples are pebbling in the cold air, and you have to resist the urge to go and warm them up for her.
You walk over and reward her with a kiss, which she returns eagerly, then step back and hand her the shirt. She takes it and begins pulling it on, but when she moves to the first button, you grab her hands and pull them to the side. Quickly, you turn and make sure— yes, you'd remembered to lock the door— and kneel in front of her, raising yourself high enough that you can still almost look her in the eyes even from your seated position. She shifts, and you lift her skirt and bend your head to gain visual confirmation that, yes, she has taken her panties off.
"Good girl," you praise her again, and give her another soft kiss. She smiles, and you lean forward and press one swirling lick to each of her nipples before you raise yourself and sit beside her on the bed again, loving the way she shivers as the cold air hits her nipples after you're done with them. "Now, I'm going to tell you to do something. If it's not okay with you, you can tell me no now, and I'll drop it. And if you're ever uncomfortable doing this in future, all you need to do is tell me so and I'll understand, okay?"
She nods hesitantly, licking her lips. "Um, okay," she mumbles. "I probably— okay."
You nod, pressing a kiss to her neck. You're glad she didn't actually say that she probably won't say no to anything you ask of her. You love that she's so submissive towards you, but you don't want her to follow everything you say religiously. Her desires are just as important as your own here. If she would feel uncomfortable doing something, regardless of how much you want her to do it, it's important that she knows that she can tell you no.
"Good," you murmur. "Now, every time you know we're going to be alone like this in future, I want you to take your panties off beforehand, and show me that you've taken them off when we're alone. Is that okay?"
She considers it seriously for a moment. Then she licks her lips. "I don't mind," she says quietly, "but, um, would you mind if I only did that when we're at home? I don't think I'd be comfortable not wearing panties in public. Somebody might see."
You nod. "That's okay. Thank you for agreeing to do that for me, Madison."
Madison nods, then edges towards you, pouting slightly. You recognize the sign for what it is, and slip your arm around her, drawing her in to a hug that she happily settles into.
Before now, you hadn't actually put a lot of thought into what you were going to do at Madison's. Casting your eyes over her room, your eyes fall on two things; she has a small TV in her room, complete with... you're not sure what console that one is, but you think it's one that plays DVD's too; and she also has a narrow bookcase, filled with what you recognize as trashy young adult romance novels. You level a soft glare at the bookcase and turn away before you offend your girl by insulting her taste in books.
"Okay, Madison," you murmur. "What movie do you want to watch?"
She hums quietly. "You can put on anything you want. I don't mind as long as you cuddle me through the whole movie," she bargains.
A soft chuckle escapes from you. "Sure, I'll take that deal," you say, and reluctantly release Madison so you can walk over and browse through the DVD's she has stacked off to the side of the small TV.
She doesn't have much of a variety— some romances, some comedies, some rom-coms, and— you turn to her with a raised eyebrow when you pull out three DVD's, a copy of each of the three Rambo movies. She just shrugs at you in response, causing some interesting movements in her chest that distract you from questioning her further.
