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"Taylor Anne Hebert." I sigh, knowing what's going to happen; and I just walked through the front door, which I haven't even closed. "Just what on Earth happened at Arcadia today?"
Avoiding the only other person in room, I scowl. "Just me sorting out some personal issues there, nothing you need to get worried about."
The brief sputtering that follows brings me a brief moment of catharsis. "No-nothing to worry about?! Taylor, I am your mother! Worrying about you is practically a second job all in itself! So if you want me to stop worrying, then tell me what pushed you into a fight."
I sigh, louder this time to emphasize my frustration. "Like I said, I sorted out some personal problems at Arcadia; that's it. Nothing more, nothing less."
Mom crosses her arms, angry at me. "'Some personal problems?' The principal called me, Taylor. She said that if your behavior keeps up, you might be expelled. Expelled, Taylor! All that money down the drain, money used to give you a better future and an escape from Winslow. It's almost as if you want to go back there!"
I kinda did, if I was being honest. I was getting respected there, unlike at Arcadia; but telling Mom that would've made this drag on more.
"Like. I. Said." I repeat slowly, hoping she'll finally get it. "I'm sorting out personal problems at Arcadia. That's all you need to know."
A sigh is all I get in response. "Taylor, the last time you were closed off like this; you were trying to hide the fact my flute got stolen from your locker. I had to call the cops to help, remember?"
The problem was that I did. All that nonsense for a flute, and it ended up making my life worse. God, I still remember the ammo it gave Emma. And the fact that Mom used it as an excuse to transfer me out…
That was the day I realized I was always going to be trapped.
"…You know," Mom said, pulling me out of my thoughts; "Your father would also be disappointed in you if he were here. At least he tried to control his anger."
"How dare you." My mouth moves automatically, fueled by this casual indifference. "How dare you. You think I haven't been controlling my anger?! I'm doing my best here, but Arcadia's just another level entirely!"
Mom sighs and takes off her glasses to rub at her forehead. Shortly thereafter, she puts them back on and waves me away. "Go to your room." Her voice said, brokering no argument. "I need time to figure out what to do."
"Fine." I grumble, stomping up the stairs and flipping the bird to Mom's cries of "Be gentle!"
Soon, the hours pass; and finally, finally; Mom goes to sleep. Carefully, I tiptoe down the stairs with my cape stuff in a duffel bag, trying not to make a sound and succeed. With that difficult step done, I gently open the back door from the inside before locking the door from the outside. Sighing in relief, I open the duffel bag to get ready.
Donning the modified astronaut costume I got at a Goodwill and treated with chemicals, I sigh in relief. I then don the helmet, similarly modified and with a GUI; to boot. The orange gloves slide onto my hands, completing the flight suit.
With that done, I press the hidden button; rendering it airtight. Next, I grab the utility belt; containing all sorts of essentials in its compartments. Finally, I grab my jetpack; a clunky little thing made from a scrapped vacuum cleaner, some joysticks, piping, and wires; among other stuff I can't remember.
Now ready, I activate the jetpack's camouflage function to cloak me. It's temporary, but since it gets the job done of protecting my identity; I haven't seen need to extend the duration.
With no more time to waste, I rocket up to the skies; the sheer thrill and my suit's protection making gravitation and shear forces nothing more than an invisible sludge I waddle through.
On reflex, I lower the speed; making the jetpack keep me up in the air instead of rocketing me up. Turning around, I see a familiar sight.
The night skies of Brockton Bay look majestic up here. "Up here", being of course; near the clouds. It's just a large blob of lights illuminating steel, glass, and plaster. Free from the corruption, malice, and hunger that made it.
I cut off the energy to my jetpack and began plummeting to Earth at a rapid pace, screaming in joy all the while. Long before I hit the ground, I fire up the jetpack again; and it propels me faster. I curve the trajectory so I miss the ground, flying up from hitting it in an arc, and then I lower the speed.
Now with adrenaline flowing through me, I glide through the rooftops; my worries just vanish like they're not even there. It's so nice to just fly, I wish it could-
"Hello, Diolkos." Miss Militia spoke up. I turn around to look at her, and there she is; standing on a rooftop with a book under her arm, a bookmark saving her place. She's doing that weird "smile with her eyes" thing she's known for, and I hold back a sigh; knowing she's trying to butter me up.
"Hello, Militia." I force out, internally relieved that my armor's covering up my head with opaque glass. "Trying to recruit me into the Wards again? Don't you guys have better things to do?"
Miss Militia frowns, if her bandana's sudden crinkles are any indication. "Keeping you safe is one of our top priorities, Diolkos. We only want to help you."
"You can help me by getting out of my way, Militia!" I shout. "All I want to fly around and have some fun, but you and yours just keep getting in my way!"
"But Diolkos-" Militia tries to get the last word, but I blast off before she gets the opportunity. Good riddance.
Once I'm sure Militia and the trademark glow of her weapon is gone from my sight and radar, I sigh. Damn her. I wanted a nice chill flight before school tomorrow, but she just had to come along and ruin it.
Fucking… Whatever, Taylor; get your head in the game. The night's still young, you still have time to fly around without busybodies ruining the day; and now the night.
I sigh. I thought having a power was worth the price of getting it, but it's not. There's always this invisible pressure that's just… tempting me to run away literally every moment I'm Taylor Hebert, ending when I'm Diolkos. It's infuriating, having to ground myself; to tether myself, to society just to keep flying.
As the nightscape shifts and blurs, I find myself thinking back. Toybox gave me a very generous offer for joining them, and between them, the Nazis, Coil, and the PRT; at least they respect me.
Sighing, I grab my "cape" cellphone and open up my contacts. As always, Toybox's number is there; clearly marked and alone. Which makes sense, it's a no-strings attached gift from them to me. Just a taste of what they could offer if I joined them.
I used to think that joining them would be more of the same, just a constant, never ending rut that I can't break free from; only escape. But with the PRT likely getting closer to my identity, the gangs closing in on me, school being more effort than it's worth now, and home feeling less like one; I guess they're my only choice left for escape.
Without hesitation, I call them; my finger pressing the button.
"Hello, Diolkos. I'm surprised you want to take us up on our offer now." A female voice, young but not too young, answers me.
"How do you know I who I am?" I question, trying to mask the anxiety in my voice with frustration.
"We gave you this phone when you met us for advice before, it shouldn't surprise you that we'd save its number. But enough small talk, I assume you're calling to take us up on our offer?"
"Yeah, I am." I confirm. "All I want to do is Tinker and fly to my heart's content, and you're the only ones interested in letting me."
"Very well." The voice confirms. "We'll call you at 5 PM your time the day Dodge sets up the entrance in Brockton county. You'll only have twenty-four hours upon our arrival to come here. Failure to show indicates a permanent refusal to join. Understood?"
"Understood." I reply; my voice emotionless.
"Then allow me to give you a preemptive and probably premature welcome into Toybox. I hope to see you working with us."
The line goes dead, and I stare at it; knowing I did the right thing here.