Photographs Tell No Truths
Chapter 1: Smile for the Photo ID
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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There was a lot in Taylor’s life she hated.
Her too wide face, tall lanky body, gangly limbs, and pudgy stomach.
But the one thing Taylor hated above all?
It was her Dead Soulless Eyes.
They hadn’t always that way of course.
She used to be happy. She could even remember being happy rather vividly.
And even after a year and a half of borderline torture, she’d still been able to smile.
The Locker Changed That
That Place changed a lot of things.
And most importantly.
It
Changed
NOTHING
Loss, Betrayal, Torture, and Hatred.
Over two years of it. None stop.
And Nothing Changed.
So Taylor decided to go to an Antiques Shop.
A little out there right? Taylor thought so.
But honestly when your life is hell, your will is fractured, and your mind is snapping.
Sometimes you just… Do Things…
So rather than do something… EXTREME
Taylor decided to go to one of the few remaining Antique stores.
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“Hello! Welcome To MannCo Mercantile and Antiquities, How Mercenary can we get with our prices with you today?” The Cashier behind the counter chimed happily, in a rather cute 1960s Nurse Uniform.
“As Mercenary as you get.” Taylor replied with what she hoped was a convincing smile, she didn’t know why she’d said that, but it just… kinda felt like the right thing to say after a greeting like that.
Taylor guessed it was the right thing to say either way, because the Cashier gave her an absolutely stunning smile.
Turning back to the oddly sterile shop, it wasn’t anything like she’d expected.
Didn’t TV always portray Antique stores full of old dusty furniture and other similarly disused paraphernalia?
And while the store Was filled with a lot of old fashioned stuff, it was meticulously clean, and oddly larger than she’d remembered seeing when she first walked into the store.
“That was weird.” Taylor commented softly to herself moving towards the back of the store. It was always better to start there, especially when one had limited funds. You were more likely to find the shit you actually wanted for far cheaper than you would at the front of a store like this.
Not that she actually knew what she was looking for.
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After a while Taylor was starting to wonder if she should just leave.
Nothing was really catching her eye, even the oddly realistic looking guns and knives they had, not that Taylor thought they were real.
It’d be hilariously hazardous to have them just hanging out off racks like that.
Though that katana Was cool.
It was while looking at a rather stylish fedora in the store’s rather obscene hat collection that she found what she wanted.
A rather simple, if heavy cigarette case.
She’d been thinking of getting one for a while.
Her cigarettes usually got destroyed if Emma or Madison decided that she needed a juice shower that day.
And best of all the case looked low profile enough that none of the trio would think to steal it from her.
It was a little pricey at fifty dollars. But what it’d save her in cigarettes would more than make it worth it.
Snagging the case, Taylor calmly walked it to the front of the store, where the suddenly ashen Cashier greeted her with a rather shaky smile.
Maybe she’d gotten some bad news.
“Hi, I'd like to buy this.” Taylor stated with what she hoped was a comforting smile (it wasn’t) at the cashier.
“I… uh… yes… that will be fifty?” the Cashier asked hesitantly, sweeping the bill Taylor handed her into the cash register like she was swiping in a collection of coins, which Taylor found slightly odd.
But this was an odd store, so maybe that was just how they did things here.
“Thanks Miss! I’ll be sure to come again soon!” Taylor called happily with a wave as she left the store, leaving the shaken cashier to her problems, just as she was leaving Taylor thought she heard the cashier mumble,
“Definitely not a normal one, I’ll need to talk to Dave about updating his-...’ but whatever else the cashier was telling herself was cut off as the door to the store swung shut, and Taylor didn’t really have any inclination to go back to continue listening in.
It was a rude yet necessary habit Taylor had picked up and was trying not to exercise out of school.
Slipping her new cigarette case into a jean pocket, Taylor stuffed her hands into her hoodie pockets and let the crowd sweep her away.
She would load it when she got home.
And left behind the little Antique store’s shaken cashier staring in shock at her suddenly vanished visitor, in her wake.
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If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Home now after two bus exchanges, and one avoidance of one of Uber and Leet’s stunts, Taylor skipped over the broken step to her house, and slipped inside after a quick application of the lock picks she’d made while bored in class.
It wasn’t like she had a house key anymore. Emma had long since stolen that in freshman year, probably broke it or sold it.
In her room, Taylor quickly stripped out of her vaguely sticky hoodie, and jeans, leaving her in a pair of panties, before slipping the cigarette case out of her pocket and throwing herself onto her bed.
Reaching down the side of her bed she snagged a fresh box of her preferred brand of death sticks out of its carton.
It was while trying to open her brand new case where Taylor ran into her first issue.
The damn thing wouldn’t open.
Trying the latch, Taylor found that it only jiggled but didn’t snap open like a case of its design should have, a little shaking did reveal that a there too unseen rod slid up slightly.
“A puzzle then?” Taylor asked the box with a grin, she loved puzzles, they were infinitely easy to get lost in and therefore made a great escape without having to worry about becoming attached to anything too substantial.
Hooking a nail under the hook of the rod, Taylor teased the rod out until she heard a soft yet satisfying:
click
Grinning Taylor began wiggling the rod this way and that, trying to see if it turned or rotated and was again rewarded when the rod snapped down over where her palm would’ve been had she been holding the case normally.
Another satisfying
click
And a button popped up on the top edge of the box.
Grinning in victory, Taylor depressed the switch and…
Nearly threw the damn box into her wall when an unseen needle suddenly jabbed her.
“Ouch! You little bastard!” Taylor hissed, sticking her smarting digit in her mouth, and sucked it rather sullenly.
The damn cigarette case bit her! Rude!
Problem Two came about when Taylor, undaunted by the smarting finger, picked back up the case and found that the lock was now unlatched.
And found that the Cigarette case wasn’t a full case like she expected or was advertised, but was instead half cigarette case and half three buttoned PDA.
“Well that explains why it was so heavy…” Taylor sighed disappointed.
She definitely wouldn’t be able to take it to school now then. Since it was a PDA of some sort it most likely wasn’t waterproof, so there was no way her precious nicotine would be safe inside.
Fifty dollars down the drain.
“Oh well… at least I’ve got a PDA for home! You know, assuming it turns on.” Taylor hummed with, still a bit disappointed, opening her new pack of cigarettes, and sticking one into her mouth, with one hand while fiddling with apparent PDA with the other.
And it was while fiddling with the new PDA that Taylor made a surprising discovery, when after a few jabs at what she assumed was the power button that a lighter of all things popped out of the side of the device.
“Hey, you're not completely useless at least!” Taylor cheered happily using the extended arm to light her cigarette and found a surprise waiting for when she pulled the case away from her face.
Why Thank You I Always Endeavor to Be Of Service
“I… okay… so this thing is either way more advanced than I was expecting or I accidentally bought a piece of Tinker Tech for a steal.” Taylor gapped quickly, snatching her cigarette back up from where it’d fallen before it had a chance to set her bed on fire.
Please Never Compare Me To That Hacked Together Garbage Mistress
“Note to self the PDA cum Cigarette Case cum probable AI is touchy about Tinker Tech.”
Quite. Ahem Welcome Mistress.
I am a Type ST 3K DK model 51A31C92
How Ever May I Be Of Service
New User Cancel Login
“Um… New User?” Taylor asked, scratching her head with a free hand trying to piece out… ANYTHING of what her new cigarette case apparently was.
Please Use The Analog Controls To Select Your Choice Mistress
New User Cancel Login
“If you can understand me then why do I have to use the Analog controls?” Taylor asked, confused selecting New User.
Very Few Active Units Of This Device
Also Contain An Active AI Assistant
This Is For Our Protection As Much As Yours The User
Please State Your Name, Age, And Stand For A Full Body Scan
Your Blood Type And Ethnicity Has Already Been Entered Into The System
“Ominous! I like It! My Name Is Taylor Anne Hebert, Seventeen. This isn’t going to hurt like unlocking you did will it?” Taylor asked slightly concerned propping the device on her desk, before backing up until the border of the screen blinked green.
Not Unless You Have A Pacemaker
Or
Are Highly Allergic To A Mild Pulse Of Radiation
“Isn’t everyone highly allergic to radiation?” Taylor asked with a definitely concerned chuckle.
Fewer People Than One Would Expect
In Either Case It Is Far Too Late To Worry About Mistress
Scan Complete
Please Reacquire The Device
“If I get cancer I swear I’m chucking you in the Ocean!” Taylor swore picking up the cigarette case.
It Would Have Little Effect As Even Left Open
I Am Completely Waterproof Up Too
2,500 Fathoms
“Well at least I know I can take you to school.” Taylor sighed, she was doing that a lot lately. “What’s next?”
Next We’ll Will Be Checking Your Competency
Followed By A Course In Any Lacking Categories
“Competency? Competency in what exactly?” Taylor asked, confused, honestly this seemed like way more work than she was expecting to use the PDA Built into the Cigarette case she’d unknowingly bought.
We Shall Be Testing Your Competency In The Following Categories:
Dressing For The Occasion
Speechcraft
Portfolio Management
And Finally
The Tools Of The Trade
“I think I can save us a bit of time… Cuz I have ZERO experience in any of those categories given that I have no idea what any of them are or mean…” Taylor admitted scratching the back of her head.
The stunning “Silence” that followed her statement gave Taylor the distinct impression that the AI contained within the cigarette case would be facepalming at her if it was capable.
(-_Q)
That apparently didn’t mean it wasn’t ready, able, and willing to figure out how though… apparently…
Very Well
Are You Willing To Undergo Advance Remedial Training
Please Note All Choices Are
FINAL
Yes Cancel No
Not liking the way the AI put final, (though Taylor was extremely confused on why, since it was a bundle of code in a box the size of a small note book) Taylor quickly selected Yes.
Excellent
First On Our Docket
Dressing For The Occasion
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The following two months of Taylor’s life could generously be called HELL ON EARTH.
Apparently “Dressing For The Occasion” involved a strict meal planner that she had to follow, bootcamp in learning how to run, walk, and do parkour (though the AI called it, Three Dimension Movement Training) in everything. And she did mean EVERYTHING from flip flops and Slippers (both house slippers and the ballerina kind) to High Heels and Dress Shoes with a couple sets of combat boots thrown in here and there to spice things up.
It didn’t stop at shoes either. Dresses, Skirts, khakis, Suits, and even a fucking Kimono or three all made it into Taylor’s closet.
Where they were coming from? Taylor had absolutely no Idea.
All Taylor knew was that every other day she’d come home after school and find a new box of clothes or food waiting for her on her front porch with instructions on how to wear the clothes and/or prepare the food.
Then the smug AI bastard in her cigarette case (Whom she was not allowed to go anywhere without) would tell her where she was to go for that day’s training.
It wasn’t all bad though.
Besides the bootcamp the AI had begun instructing her on how to properly apply makeup and how to dress in such a way to “Emphasize Her Greatest Assets”.
Which in Taylor’s case turned out to be a lot of skirts and thigh highs… after the damn AI took her to get full body laser hair removal.
The absolute best part of the training however turned out to be.
Of all things.
Philosophy.
Be True To The Face You Choose To Become.
There Will Always Be Time And Need For New Faces.
But Never Forget Your Truth.
Less Others Choose It For You.
There were a lot of little lessons like that, and they became her little word of the day blurbs.
Blurbs she was expected to memorize and try to embody. But unlike all the other “Training” she was forced to contend with, they were the only ones that didn’t have that ever ominous threat of “OR ELSE” the AI seemed constantly able to emit or being under the promise of being burnt by the infernal device’s lighter.
It liked using that when she wasn’t going fast enough or moving properly during its bootcamp sessions.
All this culminated in Taylor looking better and feeling better about herself than she honestly ever had before.
Though she still dressed and acted the same as she always had while at Winslow.
For the whole week she’d gone to the school, before suddenly finding herself enrolled at Immaculata as Winslow was “Unconducive Towards A Proper Learning Environment”
And then one day.
Congratulations
Mistress You Have Successfully Passed
Dressing For The Occasion
Next We Shall Be Begin Bringing Your Skills In Both
Portfolio Management
And
Speechcraft
Up To Par
“Please let me die.” Taylor moaned tiredly face down in her new bed.
That Can Be Arranged
“...I hate you...”
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Taylor had been wrong about the last two months of her life being Hell on Earth this past two month though?
Well Taylor now truly knew that if Hell existed, she currently lived there.
Taylor did not, could not, ever expect when she would be woken up and given some absurd task or another.
Everything from going down to the local liquor store, and making a purchase in a completely different accent, or different language.
Memorize the outfit, age, and mannerism of everyone and anyone she could have possibly have spotted on the street and copy their actions and personality and replicate it perfectly.
Or (and Taylors personal Favorite) Make her way to a particular location without being spotted by ANYONE.
Taylor liked that one the best because she found that one the easiest.
Congratulations
Mistress You Have Successfully Passed Both
Portfolio Management
And
Speechcraft
Finally We Shall Begin Your Training In
Tools Of The Trade
Shall We Begin?
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Tools of the Trade turned out to be oddly… simple… at least for Taylor.
It comprised mainly of sticking random people in specified places with a piece of tape, or a needle all without them noticing her.
With the occasional trip to a gun range where a revolver would be waiting for her to practice with.
Mistress You Have Successfully Passed
Tools Of The Trade
With Flying Colors No Less
With The End Of This Course You Have Proven
That You Are Indeed Worthy
Your Credentials And Skill Rankings
Have Been Published With The Proper Channels
Congratulations
Tomorrow The True Tools Of Your New Trade Shall Arrive
Along With Instructions To The Proper Use Of This Device
And The Location Of The Continental Hotel
As Well Remunerations Of 100 GC
(Reduced For Previous Services Rendered)
As Recompense Of Having To Live
Under The Threat Of Nuclear Annihilation
Both The Nuclear Charge And AI Have Subsequently
Been Removed From This Device
Once More Congratulations
And Good Luck In All Your Future Endeavors
“... I’ve been carrying around a nuke in my pocket… For MONTHS! WHAT THE FUCK!”
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Chapter 1 END
A/N: I’d like to thank anyone and everyone who made it this far! If you just scrolled to the end of this chapter… Well first of all Fuck You… but thanks for coming this far anyway.
I honestly have no idea where this idea came from.
All I know is that it showed up in my house one day, started eating all my shit, and refused to leave until I wrote it.
Honestly still not the worst house guess I’ve ever had.Thanks for reading!
Please Consider Joining my Discord at which you can find my Patreon, art I've commissioned, as well as the endless diatribe my brain tends to spit out, and more!
KatBot's Corner
Until Next Time!
Have A Great Day!