Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

* Sunday, December 12, 2004 *

"Age restriction?! WHY?!" asked Taylor as there was another miss.

"Probably because your hands are too small to handle the tools," said her mother as she handed a box of leafy green things down to her daughter.

"Not fair..." grumbled Taylor. "What's this recipe do?"

"According to this book, these potions are meant to be given to the young witch during her youth for effects in her developing years," said Annette, looking the recipe over and then reading out loud to Taylor. "According to this, three turns clockwise and two turns counter-clockwise."

Taylor did that. "Is it supposed to pulse yellow?"

"Actually yes, if it pulsed red we'd have to start over," said Annette. The book was big and heavy and didn't look at all like it was meant for children. "Now add these minced swift feathers."

"What's this one do, anyway?" asked Taylor as she did so. "Specifically?"

"Grace and agility," said Annette. "It's one of those that you take one sip every day for a fourteen day period, and it says it is best done before one's tenth birthday."

"Magic is weird," commented Taylor.

"It's your power," pointed out Annette.

"My power makes no sense," commented Taylor.

"Oh by the way, I ordered a lab coat for you," said Annette. "Also stir again, this time three times counter-clockwise."

"That's great!" exclaimed Taylor happily doing the three stirrings. "Then what?"

"Pour into those test tubes," said Annette. "Then stopper them and let them cool."

Humming happily at the thought of her first bit of costume, err correction - safety equipment, coming soon - Taylor began the process of transferring the faintly glowing yellow liquid into the test tubes. Or potion vials. Same thing really.

* Thursday, December 16, 2004 *

Annette flipped through her notebook, making a decision to start transferring things to a word processor as soon as possible because she'd written everything down in chronological order but having it in alphabetical just made for easier reading.

So far the "constellations" were something Taylor could tell what it was, but the individual "stars" or "motes" she didn't know until one got "dragged down" to her level.

There were a lot of blocked or restricted ones, particularly coming up with age restrictions or point insufficiencies. What generated points was unclear. How many Taylor had at any given point was also unclear, as apparently all she could see was "reach" for the tether or its apparent strength in ability to latch onto a "perk" (or star or mote or whatever) and give it to her.

Honestly, whoever the redhaired girl who wore her hair in the style of some crab was - Annette really wanted a few words with her.

So far Taylor had seen attempts at: Appearance, Toolkits/Technology, Facilities - Magical, Personal Reality, Efficiency, Magic Item Crafting, Technology Crafting, Intelligence, Vehicles, Magitech, Resources, Washu Special Bonus, and Technology Supply Small. The last being a personal affront to her as an English teacher. Not the only one, she wanted to correct each mangling of the language she encountered. Which had led her to believe that whatever and whoever was behind this power - English was not their first language. Possibly they/she were using some sort of translation tool that managed the words but lacked an understanding of the language itself.

Annette pondered all the questions she had regarding her daughter's ability. She'd read up on Tinkers because she was a teacher and quite familiar with researching subjects, and there were commonalities within the power bracket that simply didn't seem to apply to Taylor.

Trump, the power that affects other powers, seemed the most fitting within the framework that the Parahuman community accepted. So a Trump power that emulated Tinker abilities was a way to pigeonhole Taylor's abilities. Except for the sources and hadn't THAT been a rabbit hole for her to go down.

Putting that aside for the moment, Annette flipped the notebook closed and wondered what further disruptions Taylor's power would bring and how long they could keep it all off the PRT's radar.

* Tuesday, January 25, 2005 *

She'd just been making the usual potions, not including the ones that automatically refilled every day.

She'd been taking her daily potions too, the ones for "young witches" during their "physical development" years. Because really - if there were magical potions why wouldn't you have things like that? The book was too big and heavy and unwieldy for her to move it around, but her father had brought down a table and set the thing on that and it had made crafting stuff by recipes a lot easier.

Not that she had all the ingredients for the really good stuff. Youth potions like the mid-tier ones only took a year off and apparently didn't store as well as the healing potions. On the other hand, hair grow potions and skin clearing ointments and such promised some really good use. The Barnes family were really fond of those.

The usual rumble from the workshop, but she was so used to it that it barely registered. It would be another miss or blocked and she was thoroughly tired of those.

So Taylor was completely surprised when her "fishing line" caught a small mote that had a larger effect.

As her mother had instructed, she wrote everything down as quickly as she could find an errant pencil and a piece of paper.

Then it was back to the "lobby" and checking to see if she had what it had promised.

There, next to the lockers containing her Omni-Tool and the Rocket Hammer her Dad still wouldn't let her play with, was the framed diploma showing she had a doctorate. In Engineering. She was indeed Doctor Curlyhair. At age 9.

Of course, that meant she had the grades and fields of knowledge necessary to support that piece of framed vellum on the wall.

"I'm a genius!" said a very satisfied Taylor/Doctor Curlyhair, EngD. She just hoped that whatever this did, it had provided more than just a piece of paper. It would be very awkward if electronic and paper records didn't reflect her graduation papers.

It was also going to be interesting tomorrow to see if roll call had "Doctor Hebert" being called. Did she still have to go to school? That might be a problem either way.

Oh, and she had this terrible urge to make two puppet robots to sit on her shoulder and proclaim how great she was.

Huh. Well she actually knew how to do that now.

* Wednesday, January 26, 2005 *

"...Delores Hannessy, Doctor Taylor Hebert, Alice Henderson..."

Sitting in the back of Mrs. Sales' homeroom class, Taylor nodded to herself. Apparently, probably due to her age, she still had to attend boring old school but everyone knew she was a Doctor of Engineering.

On the other hand, watching Mrs. Sales twitch like that was amusing. Every time their eyes met, that left eye on the teacher would start twitching.

Naturally, she turned her homework in. Naturally the teacher took a look at it while shuffling through, and probably that neck spasm was from the notes in the border about the train problem.

It certainly wasn't HER fault, Taylor decided, it wasn't like she was a parahuman or something.

* Later that same day *

"You have a Doctorate. In Engineering. And yet, because of the laws in this state, you still have to graduate high school."

"No. I have to attend school until I'm sixteen. Because of the idiot laws in this state." Taylor shrugged and went through the homework assignment as fast as she could put pen to paper. Not her fault this stuff was so easy.

"So, what are you doing during school time?" asked Annette, checking the book and then the color of the mixture in the stirring pot.

"Designing things," said Taylor, putting aside her finished homework. "So many things seem so easy now. Emma's coming over this weekend by the way. She plans on being around if something else comes up from the Forge."

"Did you write down what this particular 'perk' was?" asked Annette.

"Right here," answered Taylor, taking a piece of paper out of a pocket.

"This 'Girl Genius' here, I saw it on one of your earlier entries," noted Annette. "The artistic one."

"I'm a girl and I'm a genius, maybe?" theorized Taylor.

"I don't think that's it," said Annette. "No building crazed abominations either. That will get the PRT involved. In fact, it would be better if you don't do any 'crazed' anything at all, much less abominations."

"I'll try to restrain myself," stated Taylor in as flat a tone as she could manage.

"It would be for the best, I think," agreed Annette. "Also best to avoid Lovecraftian horrors. They tend to lower property values."

"So what are you doing with those potions you've been pouring into different containers?" asked Taylor.

"Healing potions are going in first aid kits, one in each of the cars, a vial at work for both Danny and myself," said Annette. "Likewise three have gone to the Barnes' family. Just in case."

Taylor nodded and waited a few moments for more exposition. When it wasn't forthcoming she tried directly asking. "What of the others?"

"Testing," said Annette.

"That sounds potentially ominous," noted Taylor.

"Has to be done, sooner or later," replied Annette with a shrug.

"Yeah, I suppose..." Taylor's voice trailed off at the familiar rumble. She had a fair amount of reach now, but she still didn't understand why it sometimes got longer and more often did not.

"Air pressure change," mused Annette as she was a bit sensitive to such things. She looked towards the door to the main workshop from their position near the stove of the Witch House. "Did you get something?"

"A garage, parts supply, and tools," said Taylor. "Oh, I can do car maintenance now. Might have to do something about that knock in Dad's pickup."

"That could save us some budget, especially if we're buying those herbs for your potions," admitted Annette. "Well, should we check it out?"

The Garage turned out to have four bays for vehicles, several rolling tool chests, a number of items specific to both Annette's car and Danny's truck, lifts in two of the bays for working underneath a vehicle... and a bouncing on her heels Taylor as soon as she saw the tools.

* Wednesday, February 9, 2005 *

Kurt and Lacey boggled. It was worth boggling. Danny had told them his old battered truck was being worked on. By his daughter (the Doctor of Engineering specializing in Mechanical Engineering) who was apparently a nine-year-old genius of some sort.

It was an old battered 1975 Ford F100 with faded red paint, gray spots of primer, dents on nearly every surface, with an engine that rattled when you turned it off and a knocking sound when it was running.

This had fresh paint, no dents visible, the chrome practically gleaming in the early morning sun, and the engine sounded about as smooth as you could get from an old truck. There was what looked like a professionally done logo on the doors proclaiming it as being associated with the "Dockworker's Union" and it settled into the parking space with a ratcheting noise coming from all four wheels.

"Danny?" asked Kurt.

"Anti-theft devices," said Danny as he got out of the truck. "She added a few things. Gave it a tune-up. I had to help some though because she's just not big enough or strong enough to handle some of the parts or tools properly."

"What all did she add?" asked Lacey, peering at the small railings around the step that had been added.

"Not nearly as much as she wanted," said Danny.

"Such as?" asked Kurt. "Are those Tesla coils?"

"Yes, and you don't want to know," said Danny Hebert, shaking his head. "Kids."

"Most kids don't outfit their father's truck with Tesla coils," pointed out Kurt.

"She made a good argument for them," admitted Danny. "Even pulled up my route to work and pointed out ambush points."

"Danny. Whatever you did to have a kid who cares enough about you to upgrade and fix your truck, and is smart enough to do this good a job? And she's what - twelve?"

"Nine," auto-corrected Danny.

"Nine," repeated Kurt.

Lacey stirred as she checked under the hood. "Hey, Danny. Think your little girl can do some of this for my SUV?"

* Saturday, March 5, 2005 *

"Emma, can you hand me the grabber? I dropped that bolt and I can't reach it."

"That's the long snakey thing with the prongs on the end?"

"That's it."

Emma shook her head at the antics of her terribly nerdy friend. Not that you'd get HER to work on cars like this.

"Got it. Okay, need to grab a couple more things."

Her Dad drove a Jaguar to work, for anything else - or when her Mother was driving - there was this beast of an SUV. Which was currently being "upgraded" by Taylor. Also known as Doctor Curlyhair, girl genius, the enigmatic mechanic, or whatever else she wanted to call herself today.

A rumbling noise began, followed by the sound of someone's head smacking into an unyielding piece of metal, itself followed by a yelp of pain and a few words that her mother would not approve of being used.

"Something coming?" asked Emma, reaching for the scratch pad.

"Reverse Engineering constellation," came the pained voice of Taylor as she began scooting out from under the vehicle. "Oh! It's coming! Mid-sized mote."

"Name?" asked Emma, writing it all down per Taylor's mother's directions.

"'Fingers of Silver' from something called 'Macross'," said Taylor. "Something like motocross or... oh. No. Definitely not that."

"Does it come with anything?" asked Emma hopefully. Something fun, like a motorcycle or something, was her hope.

"...oh hell yeah," said Taylor as she came out, smudges of grease on her face. "Yeah. It came with something."

"Really, what?" asked Emma.

"An overdimensional scanner and arc welder!" said Taylor with considerable enthusiasm.

"Oh," said Emma, losing interest. If it had been a giant robot or grav-cycle...

"Now if I can just get my hands on something extra-dimensional to scan," mused Taylor.

"You mean like the Witch House?" asked Emma.

Taylor stopped and stared at her friend briefly. "Brilliant! That's exactly the kind of thing that'll get you a set of Scarlet Lady power armor when the time comes."

"I'll hold you to that," said Emma, completely serious.

* Wednesday, March 12, 2005 * "Taylor?"

"Yes, Mom?"

"Why does my perfectly normal car have a big red button that has a plastic cover over it?"

"If an Endbringer attacks the city, you can press that button and rotate out of normal space/time for ten minutes."

"First, Endbringer attacks last for hours at best and days at worst."

"Yes, but I'd need to get more environmental protection for it to last longer. Only so much I can do with the amount of space in a 2001 Chevy Blazer."

"I have enough trouble just parking the thing."

"Oh, I'm working on that. You'll be able to flip a switch and it'll fold down into a suitcase. I got the idea from 'the Jetsons' but that was wildly unrealistic."

"It was a cartoon. Based on the Flintstones. Which was based on the Honeymooners. None of which was meant to be inspirations for teenage engineers."

"But..."

"No. No anti-Endbringer functions in my car. Just keep it running, please, Taylor."

17.8.1-Scientist: Machinery Girl(100CP)(Girl Genius)(Intelligence):
You have a DOCTORATE! And skill in ACTUAL SCIENCE! That doesn't need you to go crazy to work! Admittedly, it won't break the fabric of space and time, but meh. Tradeoffs everywhere you go. You're highly trained in one field, and can easily apply its principles to your work. After all, building a crazed abomination upon the natural order usually requires at least a smidgen of understanding of which bones are supposed to go where (Even if you end up changing them around a little). At the very least, you're also in the genius range of standard intelligence.

4.3.1-Garage (100CP)(Fast and Furious)(Vehicles):
You have a nice garage and parts supply. With a few days and some elbow grease, you could basically rebuild your car or cars from the bottom up; you probably have enough parts to keep someone else's ride running or give it an upgrade, too.
Gives spare parts for any level of 'car' and the ability to upgrade any level of car too, might also have a time acceleration component though not so sure about that.

18.2.1-Finger of Silver (200CP)(Macross)(Reverse Engineering):
While other kids were building tinker-toy creations, you were fiddling with your dad's car and doing a better job than him. By purchasing this, meddling with machines and OverTechnology is as easy as breathing for you. By getting your hands on something, you can easily figure out how it works and how to copy its inner workings, provided that it wasn't just bullshit magic. The more advanced something is, the harder it may be... but with time and effort, you just might succeed.