With Great Power: Scrounging

Now that Emma had her tools, it was time to get her some tech to play with as well. On a brisk, Monday afternoon, Taylor once again found herself in costume, though this time she wasn’t out looking for criminals to bust or stray cats to save from trees. Instead, she found herself rooting around in a giant pile of trash, a duffel bag attached to her hip and already half full of junk she’d never find a use for.

Her fingers cracked plastic as she carefully pried the case of a computer off of its delicate internals. Tossing it aside, she leaned in close, making sure that her goggles got a full view of what was inside.

“How’s it looking? Anything you could use?” She posed the question to the open air, but after a second or two, a small, tinny voice came from the earbud shoved in under her hood.

“Hmm… yeah, grab the CPU. Everything else looks like junk but that doesn’t look too bad.” She instructed and Taylor reached inside, grabbing what she was looking for while ignoring the rest. She dropped it into the duffle bag, wincing at the sound it made as it joined the rest of the technology within. “Jeez, Taylor! Just throw it in, why don’t you?”

“It’s not like it isn’t going to get shuffled around when I bring it back.” Taylor defended as she climbed down off of the pile of garbage. “You’ve seen me swing. Gentle isn’t really a part of my vocabulary.”

“You better not do all those flips and crap when you bring my stuff back or I swear to God I’ll put chlorine in your shampoo.”

“If I wake up with white streaks in my hair, I'm shaving yours off in your sleep.” Taylor threatened, making Emma gasp. She bent down to grab a small flipphone, holding it up to the camera. “How's this one?”

“Trash.” Emma said immediately, making Taylor toss it over her shoulder. “If you could find a smartphone in relatively good condition, I might be able to snatch the capacitive sensors and then I could really cook something up. That stuff’s way to delicate to make on my own right now.”

“And you say I sound like a nerd. All that tinker talk is scrambling my brain.”

“It's literally just basic tech, Taylor. It's what makes the touchscreen work. Some phones don't use that method though so we'd have to sort through a bunch to find the good ones that aren't based on resistance, though that might be good for your gross web things.”

“My web shooters aren't gross.” Taylor defended her work as she held up another phone to the camera. This one was a smartphone and might have been what she was looking for.

“No, that one’s too cracked.” She said and Taylor tossed it. “And the fact that you said that tells me this conversation would be pointless.”

“No look, my webs might be weird to some people, but how are the shooters themselves gross? That doesn't make any sense!”

“It would if you had even a lick of professional craftsmanship. Those things look like they were slapped together by a toddler! Like, the design’s good and all, but your welding needs a lot of work.”

“You literally didn't know how to weld last week!”

“That was a whole week ago, Tay. A lot can change in that amount of time.”

“Yeah, like turning your ego up to eleven.” Taylor muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“Hey, kid!” A voice from below stopped Taylor from retorting. She turned away from the trash pile to find an old man in a ratty coat looking up at her, waving an arm to get her attention.

“Who’s this bum?” Emma asked suspiously.

“Be nice.” Taylor said, though she was wondering the same thing. He gestured for her to come closer and she did, wandering over towards him. He looked homeless, though he was clearly comfortable with her lifestyle, sporting a messy beard and a grin that showed off his surprisingly clean teeth. He seemed disarming as she approached, and spoke in a friendly tone.

“Hey there! I saw you climbing all that trash and was wondering if you might be up for helping me out with something real quick.”

“This guy is shifty. Watch the bag.”

“What do you need?” Taylor asked kindly.

The man smiled. “Well, I just saw you climbing all that junk like it was nothing and was wondering if you wouldn't mind helping get this record player I've been eying.”

“I’d be happy to. Can you show me where it is?”

“Taylooooor! Stop wasting time!”

“This will take literally five seconds. Chill out, jeez.” 

Taylor wasn't really mad at her friend or even all that annoyed. Tinkers had a habit of going off the deep end if they didn't get the chance to stretch their mental legs every once in a while. Fugues, they called it. Unhealthy for the tinker depending on how long they lasted, and almost always unhealthy for any technology around them, as Emma already showed.

Just like Taylor said, it was stupidly easy to get the record player for the old man. It was nestled at the top of a precarious stack that would have been dangerous for anyone but her to climb, but she got it in less than a minute.

Jumping back down, Taylor presented the machine to the man who took it gratefully. He tipped his ratty hat, giving her a toothy grin. “Thank you very much, young lady. I’ve been looking for one of these for a couple months now.”

“You’re welcome. Though I’m not sure you’ll get much use out of it. If it’s been sitting up there for more than a week, it’s probably fried by now.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “You kids don’t know how durable old tech like this is. As long as it ain’t been smashed to pieces, at least some parts of it’ll still work.”

He slipped it into his backpack. “Thanks. I really appreciate it. You know, we need more people like you around here.”

Taylor shook her head. “No thanks necessary, sir. I'm used to getting stuff out of hard to reach places by now. Trust me.”

“Was that a dig?”

Taylor ignored her friend, watching as the man stroked his beard. “Well how about this then? Since you got my record player, I'll tell you where to find some juicy stuff that's ten times better than that trash you were sorting through.”

Taylor could practically hear Emma perk up in interest and hid a smile, listening as the man told her about a section of the junkyard that hadn't been picked clean yet.

“And you said helping him was a waste of time.” Taylor said as she made her way across the junkyard.

“It still might be. He could have been lying to you."

Taylor rolled her eyes. “I guess we'll see.”

A few minutes later, Taylor bid the man farewell and zipped over to where he had indicated. There weren’t many people who called the junkyard their home – it was more of a landfill than anything that could resemble actual housing, but there were a few stray souls who decided that living with the trash was better than sleeping on the streets where they might be beaten or snatched up by the gangs. Taylor’s heart went out to them, but she also knew that there was nothing she could do except keep up the fight and try to drive down the crime rate in Brockton Bay. Then maybe one day they’d feel safe enough to come back.

Taylor arrived at the edge of the junkyard in short order and, lo and behold, there was a fresh pile of random bits and bobs just like the old man had said. The only stuff that was sent here were things that couldn’t be recycled or weren’t biodegradable. Things like car parts, mattresses, broken down home appliances, stuff like that. This pile seemed to be mostly electronics, which was good for Taylor because it meant she didn’t have to pick through a ton of random crap to find what she was looking for.

“Okay, maybe you were right.” Emma said as she looked at the spoils through Taylor’s eyes.

“Told you.”

Guided by Emma's keen eye, she managed to find a lot of good stuff for her friend to work with, including a couple of phones that Emma wanted to take a personal look at. The duffel bag was around three fourths of the way full of broken electrons, when they hit a snag.

“I'm telling you, it's not gonna fit.”

“Make it fit. If you strip of the panels on the outside–”

“It still won't fit. I'm not sure it would even if the bag was empty.”

“...”

“...”

“...Can you try?”

“Emma, no.”

The object in question was a PC that, by all accounts, seemed to be in near mint condition. It was actually amazing how little damage the thing had sustained on its trip to the junkyard, both inside and out, and Taylor had a feeling that whoever got rid of it, didn't do so willingly.

Of course, tech like that had Emma practically salivating, and it took a couple minutes for them to reach an agreement. Taylor wasn't going to lug an entire computer across town, and Emma only really needed a few pieces from the thing anyway. So Taylor stripped it down and ripped out its guts, sending a silent apology to whoever might have owned it before it reached its final resting place.

As she shoved it in her bag and moved onto the next piece however, her totally legal looting was interrupted by a harsh voice from below.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?”

As Taylor turned to the new arrival m, she heard Emma retch in her earbud. “What is that?”

At the bottom of the trash hill, another cape was staring up at Taylor angrily. He was wrapped in a truly awful amalgamation of scrap and rusted iron that had been haphazardly formed into some kind of mech suit. Standing a full foot taller than her at least, the armor was made of random bits and bobs that were clearly picked out of necessity rather than aesthetic. The whole suit was lopsided and bulged strangely in places, like it was a figurine being held together with too much super glue, and a large pipe was sticking out of the back, puffing steam periodically.

A round head poked out of the top of the suit, greasy and covered in pimples. A metal mask and welding goggles kept the unknown cape’s identity obscured, but Taylor imagined he’d be easy to pick out of a crowd even without them. He just had the kind of look that you remembered after seeing it once.

Taylor heard Emma typing in the background as the rusty giant took a step towards her trash heap. Hydraulics hissed loudly and the pipe on his back puffed even more steam as the cape pointed at her with a giant hand. “Hey! I’m talking to you! Get the hell off my pile or we’re gonna have problems, kid!”

Taylor tilted her head, calling back over the distance between them. “Your pile? I thought everything here was free game.”

“It was until I showed up. Now it’s mine. So get lost!”

“Well that doesn’t seem very fair.” Taylor muttered as Emma’s voice returned in her earbuds

“Be careful, Tay. This guy isn’t friendly.”

“I could have told you that.”

“Shut up and listen. I checked online for capes like this guy and found a little info. His name’s Trainwreck. I’d call him a C-lister but he’s barely even that so let’s just put him down there with Uber and Leet. He usually sticks to the trainyard and picks fights with anyone who comes close. He thinks that’s his territory or something, like a guy like this could hold it.”

“I’m guessing you guys are part of the same club.”

“Say that again and I’m hanging up.” Emma threatened. “In all seriousness though, I can tell that suit isn’t complete trash. If you’re gonna get into a fight with him, be careful and don’t let him get a hold of you. He could literally crush you to death.”

“Fighting isn’t always my go-to, you know?” Taylor complained as she stood fully, calling down to the man again. “I’m just here to grab some stuff for my projects; can’t we share? It’s not like there’s not enough here for all of us, right?”

That only seemed to make him even angrier. He waved his hand as if he was swatting her idea out of the air. “No! I’m sick of you and all those other assholes coming through here and trying to take what isn’t yours! I’m done letting some two-bit tinker newbies snatch all of my shit!”

Taylor paused as his words registered. Newbies? Multiple? How many people had come through here, looking for stuff like her and why? She wanted to ask him, but before she could even open her mouth, Emma’s voice popped in her ear, extremely angry.

“Taylor, kick his ass.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to fight.”

“He called me a two-bit tinker, Taylor. Kick. His. Ass.”

“Uh…” Taylor looked at Trainwreck again, watching as steam burst from the joints of his armor with a loud hiss. Was he getting ready to fight, or was that just some automatic venting thing to keep his suit cool? Either way, Taylor wasn’t too thrilled about the idea of actually fighting him. “No, I think we have enough for today.”

Ignoring her friend’s angry muttering, Taylor jumped off of the pile. Trainwreck shifted as she landed in front of him, and Taylor realized that the armored tinker was a lot bigger than her. His suit had at least a couple feet on her and was more than three times as wide, made of thick metal that would definitely hurt to punch and probably even more to get hit by.

“I’m not looking for any kind of trouble.” She said as he eyed her warily. She held up her duffel bag. “I’m just gonna take this and go. Is that alright?”

Trainwreck seemed to think about it, before huffing and waving his hand. “Fine. Take it. But don’t come back, got it?”

“As you say, oh lord of junkyards.” Taylor shouldered her bag, zipping it closed. Before she left, she glanced back at the tinker who was now sifting through the pile of trash. “Hey, before I go, what did you mean when you said that people like me have been coming through here?”

Trainwreck’s armor spat steam, as he huffed angrily. “I mean what I said. A buncha people like you have been coming around here, taking up all the good shit. Used to be that nobody wanted to come through here, but here recently, it’s like you assholes can’t stay away! Now get lost! I got shit to do.”

Eloquent, but his words piqued Taylor’s curiosity. Tinkers would be tinkers, but a lot of people suddenly taking interest in random junk in a landfill was pretty suspicious. Taylor was reminded of the first burglary she foiled with Glory Girl on the night of her debut, and the strange comment that man had made before he was taken in. 

We aren’t stealing it to sell. It didn’t make sense at the time, and it still didn’t, but Taylor couldn’t help but wonder if the instances were connected. It was a thin connection, granted, but something about it had her mind caught in its grip. She just couldn’t let the thought go.

At least until Emma started yelling obscenities in her ear. Her best friend was not happy that she’d let such a haul go like that.