“He’s lying,” Tattletail told Taylor, loud enough that the guard heard. “We have a no mask policy,” the guard said. Right then, her focus had to be on what she was doing, which was mostly walking towards Brockton Bay’s busiest bank, in broad daylight, with what seemed to the layman like at least five other capes.Īs they made it to the front steps, an overweight security guard stepped out, one hand shaking on his taser while his eyes flicked over the group as if counting them over and over again. Or maybe Pop was stealthy enough that Taylor had only ever told a clone and it didn’t carry over to the real Pop. She was beginning to think that orders only applied to the ‘current’ Pop, and not to any future clones. It didn’t seem to matter how many times Taylor told her to stow the weapon away. She was wrapped from head to toe in black bandage-like material except for poofy sleeves and thigh wraps, all of that hidden by her purple-ish yukata.Īnd of course, her sword was always out when she appeared. The girl appeared before them in a low crouch, always between the group and the nearest tourists or Brocktonites too slow to move. Gothic dresses should not have contained so many neon colors. What she did know was that Crochet still needed to work on her colour theory. When the girl found the time to make a victorian costume, one that bore more than a passing similarity to Parian’s, Taylor didn’t know. Miss Cottontail, the murderous cloth rabbit, and Mister Buttons, a fat brown bear made mostly from one of her dad’s old leather jackets and, of course, Crochet herself.
Taylor almost couldn’t see the smile hidden by the big, poofy white scarf wrapped around Remedy’s lower face and shoulders, but it was there.īehind her were two shambling shapes. The sisters had drawn straws to decide who would hold Taylor’s hand as they walked and Remedy was the proud winner. Then there was Remedy who was staying close to Taylor’s right. That and her domino mask that screamed ‘cape.’ Still, her little shit-eating grin told anyone looking her way that they had better not mess with her. Tattletail was to Taylor’s left, tail sticking out of the back of her trench coat and waving around in an open display of happiness. She had a domino mask on, one decorated with wiry whiskers that bobbed with every motion she made.
People were clearing out of their way with alacrity, none of them daring to stick around as her troop of little sisters moved around her like the strangest little bodyguards.Ĭheshire was in the lead, stomping along in her cat onesie, hood pulled back and cat ears on full display as they stuck out of a mess of bushy black hair. Still, between her mom’s old clothes and the costume Crochet had revealed. more than Taylor was and it showed in the looseness of her jacket, blouse and pencil skirt. She never thought that she would go out in public wearing one of her mom’s suits and for good reason. She reached up to adjust the mask over her face, then stopped and ran a hand over her jacket instead.