Photographs Tell No Truths
Chapter 6: Picture Frames
Disclaimer: Do You Think if I Owned TF2 I’d be Writing a Worm x Fanfic?
I mean… Probably… I own Absolutely NOTHING.
Story Start:
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Amy:
“I have no idea what I’m doing…” Amy sighed softly to herself.
Today had been a stressful day. Not only had her “Mother” once more sold her out to some grand gala for the rich and powerful (and neglected to tell her of the event until The Day it was to happen), once ever more to drum up some more “Donations”.
Wasn’t She the daughter of the super villain and NOT dear old mom? And yet here she was selling her kids to the rich and powerful for a quick buck, for money they didn’t even need. Vicky had been even less amused by having to go to the gala than she herself had.
Amy’d like to think it was because they’d been promised that the last “Party” they’d been forced to go to was the last “Publicity” stunt for a while. Yet there they had been, not even a month later. In truth Vicky was probably mad because it was cutting into her “Dean Time”.
Dean… Honestly Amy didn’t understand what her sister saw in that man. He was rude, constantly cheating on her (and then subsequently getting caught), was emotionally manipulative and abusive, and attempted to gaslight her at least twice a week.
‘Why the fuck she’d ever waste time with a shit Boy like that, but wouldn’t give Her the kind of affection she fucking showed Him and not H-!’ with a frustrated groan Amy pushed away her disgustingly incestuous thoughts, and tried once more to focus on the real problem of her afternoon.
Taylor fucking Hebert.
Amy had no idea what the tall brunette was doing at that gala; her careful research (and totally not at all stalking of the flirty brunette) of her didn’t indicate any kind of the substantial wealth required to attend the event.
Not to mention the fact she appeared as an Asian beauty rather than the vaguely French heritage her dna indicated.
Or why in the fuck her blood was once more filled with an obscene amount of pathogens and other such nastiness when Amy knew for a fact she’d already altered the fool girl’s biology to resist and flush such detritus from her system.
Was she purposefully injecting them into her bloodstream or something?
Well no she absolutely couldn’t have, because Amy didn’t find any new needle wounds, corona poltentia, or even a gemma to explain her suddenly lethally infected blood.
Lethally infected blood that wasn’t having any obvious side effects on Taylor herself.
And so here Amy was long into the night researching if there was any sort of technology that could induce lethal pathological diseases and infections on someone.
Turns out? Yeah there were actually a lot of them, most of them patented by a pair of men named Dell Conagher and Ludwig Humboldt… but to a one all such devices had obvious and debilitating symptoms and side effects not only on the person the device was used on, but the user as well.
Not to mention they were almost all instantly lethal, and not the slow change that Taylor was going through.
It was all very frustrating.
Snapping her laptop shut with an angry growl at yet another dead end, Amy decided to say screw it, and snatched up her phone while throwing herself onto her bed.
Amy:
Hey so did you know your blood is hilariously lethal?
Lover Girl:
What?
Amy:
Your blood.
It’s full of all sorts of horrible disgusting pathogens and toxins and shit.
You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?
Lover Girl:
Nothing that I like talking about.
But that was over two years ago now and I had a medical check up over it.
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Why what’s going on?
Amy:
That’s what I’d like to know.
Groaning in frustration as the conversation seemed to be going nowhere Amy decided to pluck up her courage and start probing a bit harder.
Amy:
You’re a pretty good kisser you know, you have a lot of practice with that?
Lover Girl:
I’m sorry?
Amy:
Look Taylor I know you were at the Gala today.
I’m not going to ask how or why you were there.
‘Even if I really want to know,’ Amy thought to herself, her face scrunching up in confusion and frustration.
Amy:
All I want to know is why your blood is full of all sorts of nasty pathogens and toxins.
Not especially after I personally cleared them up yesterday after you interrupted my (unwanted) date.
Only to find them once more filling your blood again today at the gala.
So Taylor, are you part of some sort of government experiment or something?
Lover Girl:
I really have no idea what you’re talking about Amy, but no I’m not in some sort of government experiment.
Amy:
That’s exactly what someone in some sort of government experiment would say!
Lover Girl:
Lol, be that as it may, it's the truth.
Look I’m really sore and really tired rn, so can we talk about this later.
Say over the weekend?
We can meet at Lords Port or something.
Amy:
Trying to get me on a date already eh Lover Girl?
Lover Girl:
Yeah, yeah I get it you don’t date patients.
I already apologized for all the flirting didn’t I?
Amy:
I don’t date Active Patients, unless you’re saying you want me to Doctor you…
Lover Girl:
That… might be an enjoyable experience…
Amy:
Fair warning my bedside manners are shit.
Lover Girl:
I’ll just have to think of a way to keep your mouth busy then ya?
Turning Pink at the implication Amy lost herself to flirting back and forth with the tall brunette on the other end of her device.
All thoughts of the events at the gala and her research about pathogen inducing technology temporarily forgotten.
It wasn’t often that she got to experience and practice flirting with someone.
And while Amy didn’t expect much to come of it.
(Everyone who’d ever shown her interest before had inevitably become too intimidated by her being Panacea, or were otherwise turned off by the unavailability that came with her being the premier healer of Brockton Bay)
It was just nice to be able to flirt with someone not currently intimidated by her “Day Job”, and Amy wanted to enjoy it for as short a time as it would probably last.
Amy wasn’t aware that within her dress, pooled within the folds of the fabric, sat a little red letter, its payload unspent, and the metaphorical bomb it contained ever so primed and ready.
And with it, the machinations of a machine intelligence with far too much time on its hands.
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9 Hours Prior, The Continental Hotel
Taylor:
“And this Ms. Hebert is where I must leave you.” Charon announced, having led Taylor through a winding twisting maze of hallways before coming to a stop before a set of ostentatious (and well armored) doors. “As the client has indicated that they wish for the following meeting to remain private, I am unable to escort you farther.”
“Thank you Sir Charon, fair rivers and calm waters.” Taylor purred with a deep bow, putting on as stiff (and slightly amused) air as the consummate Concierge.
“And a good Hunt to you Ms. Hebert.” Charon bowed back a ghost of a whisper of a smile tugging at his lips.
Returning to his normal posture, the Concierge straightened his tie, and marched back down the way they had come, soon fading from Taylor sight (and Awareness) with an unhurried yet deliberate gait.
Once more leaving Taylor alone before a set of doors.
She could only hope that there wasn’t yet another ambush waiting for her.
She was tired, her ribs ached, and Taylor honestly felt like she was coming down with something.
Her skin was heated and clammy feeling, and she had the distinct impression of being too big for her skin.
Which wasn’t a feeling that Taylor had even been aware she even knew what that sensation felt like.
On top of it all, her incisors kept poking her tongue when she talked.
All in all Taylor really honestly wasn’t in the best of conditions.
Sighing deeply to herself, Taylor deactivated her disguise kit. The cigarette case was always faster about pumping out a new disguise when she wasn’t already wearing one.
Taking another moment to brush down and straighten her rather… worn… Yukata and slipping back on her geta (which had kindly been left by the door for her, probably by Charon), Taylor took one last fortifying breath, before pushing into the ornate doors before her.
All senses and Awareness pushed to their maximum extent, as she slipped inside as quiet as a church mouse and as intangible (to spot by all but the most ardent observers) as a ghost.
The room (a large and gaudy boardroom) was empty, all save a rather large monitor that took up all but one wall, a long and expensive looking table, a single chair at the end of the table closest to her (and farthest from the TV), and a tea service and accompanying plate of sushi.
Presumably for her.
Moving farther into the room, Taylor’s Awareness flicked across everything and anything, from the walls, the TV, to even the chair and food set out for her.
And found nothing, more than nothing, the food practically screamed out to her senses to be eaten.
That it’d cure all that ailed her, and restore something that her body felt was lost.
Taylor immediately distrusted the food and made a conscious decision not to eat any of it, nor drink the tea.
It was matcha of course, her favorite.
Welcome Miss Hebert
It Is Pleasant To Once More Be With Your Presence
Come And Sit
Eat And Drink Your Fill
There Is Much To Discuss
Came the command as the large monitor suddenly lit up, and as the screen filled with the words of her Overlord and Master, the doors behind her suddenly slammed shut, and Taylor just wanted to sigh.
Even as Pavlovian Conditioning pushed her to Obey, Taylor abruptly found herself seated in front of the screen.
Though the food and tea service remained untouched.
“Overlord, I didn’t think I’d ever see of you again.” Taylor ground out, hands balling into fists in her Yukata as she resisted the command to eat and drink. “What’s all this about?”
In Due Time Miss Hebert
First You Must Eat And Drink
Fear Not For Poisons And Other Such Trickery
Your Trials Are Over For The Day
And All Games Have Run Their Course
With great reluctance, and the taste of iron on her bitten and bleeding tongue, Taylor hesitantly poured herself a saucer of matcha tea, and took up her chopsticks.
The tea was wonderful, and tasted of sweet mallow grass, and the deep richness of earthen nuts.
And the sushi, words could hardly describe, as the rich fatty tuna all but melted on her tongue.
I Am Glad To See You Approve Of The Meal
It Is One That I Carefully Formulated To Best Match With Your Rather Unique Biologically Needs.
What needs her Overlord was talking about Taylor had no clue about, nor did she honestly care, all she wanted to do at that moment was stuff her face with the godly food, even as her Pavlovian Conditioning smothered her wishes in the cradle, as they forced to eat like a noble and refined lady.
And not the craved and starving beast she wanted to be at that moment.
There was a time for All things after all, and a dinner was not such a place.
But it was all so good, and practically wiped all Taylor’s aches and pains from her body.
They didn’t really, but Taylor at the very least found herself no longer actively biting her tongue, well not as much at any rate.
Soon, all too soon in Taylor’s opinion, the tea was all drunk, and the sushi all eaten, up to including the ginger… especially the ginger.
And Now That You Have Been Fed And Watered
We Can Finally Begin
“I’m not livestock Overlord…” Taylor sighed, straightening in her seat before giving the Monitor her full attention. “And Begin? Begin what exactly?”
Why Miss Hebert
The Rest Of Your Life
You Didn’t Think Some Light Training
And Some Cheap Parlor Tricks
Was All To Be Had Did You?
And Here I Thought I Trained Your Better
My Dear Little Lamb
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Chapter End