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A CYOA in Worm or I think my name is No No
A CYOA in Worm or I think my name is No No
#1
A CYOA goes to Worm or

I think my name is No No.


Emily Piggot looked at the reports on her desk and then frowned as she looked at the teenager across from her. “In a moment you can explain to me just what the hell you were thinking,” the Director for the PRT East-Northeast said with a deceptively calm voice. “However, let me explain to you what these reports tell me. To begin with,” she tapped one report, “this one tells me that three people were taken by ambulance, from your school to the hospital, one of whom had to be placed in the Intensive Care Isolation Unit due to her injuries. This one,” she tapped the second stack of paper, “informed me that three people were, as a result of the incident, taken to the county jail and held for arraignment without bail, and finally this one,” she tapped a single sheet of paper. “Your expulsion from Winslow High School.” Emily Piggot glared death at the teenager across the desk from her for a moment longer, getting no reaction from the standing teen who was staring fixedly six inches over the Director’s head.


Emily Piggot then did something her subordinates would have sworn was impossible, something her Wards “knew” couldn’t happen and would call anyone who claimed to have seen it a liar. In that next moment, Emily Piggot gave a rueful sigh and smiled while looking down and shaking her head, “All of that paperwork Akane, and I can’t even write you up. Hess is going to Juvie because of this, and what pisses her off more than anything else it that you someone beat her without using powers, good job.”


“Thanks Aunt Em,” I replied dropping my thousand-yard stare and smiling. “How’s your day been?”


The Director shrugged as she gestured at one of the guest chairs in her office, “Sit,” she said before answering my question as I did so. “It’s been alright I guess, but how in the world did you end up in this mess?” The question was finished by waving the reports that she had just scooped up before throwing them into a silenced paper shredder.


“Same way I always end up in the middle of something like this Aunt Em,” I said with a smile. “I walked in and the wrong thing was happening right in front of me.”

**

There were two things I noticed as I entered the school building by the main hallway. First was the stench, a smell like that of the dumpster behind some fish processors on a hot summer day. The second was a gaggle of teens surrounding a locker. As I slipped my body through the crowd I saw one of the group lean over to a particular locker and speak through the grating on the door. “You’re trash Hebert,” the girl said into the locker. She was my height, but long limbed and muscular like a greyhound. If I had been put on the spot to guess, I would have said she was a track team member. “Trash should know its place,” the girl continued and then I was close enough that I heard the muffled sobs and shouts from inside the locker.


The girl that had been talking to the locker screamed as the toe of my shoe, a penny loafer, hit the back of her left knee with all the force and speed I could put behind it causing the runner to go down. I never even gave her the chance to respond as I viciously slammed her head into the locker she was talking into before kicking her in the ribs while she was on all fours. The speedy triplicate of blows left her on the ground wheezing as she fought to breath with her abused diaphragm.


“You damn…” I ducked blindly at the declaration and spun around planting a palm strike just under the attacking red-head’s ribs shutting her up and putting her on the ground along with her friend.


“Anyone else!” I shouted my hands becoming fists as they returned to my sides. Looking at the shocked crowd of onlookers. “Good, now who has a camera that has been recording this whole fiasco?” A half-dozen hands went up amongst the crowd. “You,” I snapped pointing at a white boy with dreadlocks, “and you,” I added pointing at a Hispanic girl that looked like she was a cheerleader. “The two of you keep recording this for evidence, the cops are going to want the footage. Now you and you,” I continued turning and pointing at two different students at the edge of the crowd. “I want you each to get a teacher over here right now.” They both nodded and took off in different directions. “You,” I said pointing to a small cutesy girl with twin pigtails, “Go get the principal or her vice, now.” The next person looked like a linebacker, so I assumed minimal intelligence, “You, this place has a metal-shop, right?” he nodded, “Either get the shop teacher or the janitor, but we need a big pair of bolt cutters now, so we can get her out.” He nodded and took off running and I turned to the red-head who attacked me.


“Phone,” I demanded of her and she glared death at me. “Listen you little bitch,” I snarled, “either you unlock and hand over your phone, and I say you helped once things finished, or you don’t, and I let them throw the book at you.” Her response was to flip me off, so I turned to the next girl, one who I suspected was at least an accomplice in this, but I wasn’t sure. “How about you sweetheart?” I asked, “you gonna let me use your phone to call the police?” The girl nodded slowly and pulled a decent looking smartphone out, unlocked it and handed it to me. “Thank you,” I said while red and runner glared daggers at the girl. I was going to have to protect her from some of the fallout from this, but one step at a time.


“Nine-One-One,” the voice on the other end answered almost as the first ring was sounding. “What is your emergency.”


“Yes ma’am,” I replied, “I need EMS, Police and a biohazard containment unit sent to Winslow High school immediately please.”


“Could you please describe the injuries needing attention miss,” the operator, a complete professional thank the gods, asked.


“We have one person with unknown injuries currently locked in an enclosed space with something that stinks like a skunk that has been dead on the side of a Texas highway for over a week,” I answered. “One subject with a probably concussion and likely a dislocated knee, and a third with a bruised diaphragm.”


“Thank you,” the operator replied calmly. “Do you need a rescue crew to free the entrapped subject, and is the situation contained, or do the police need to respond with some level of force or crowd control?”


“Contained,” I answered. “The person in the confined space is the victim it looks like, the other two the culprits. I have someone going to get either the janitor or the shop teacher and a large set of bolt cutters to remove the lock that has the victim trapped.”


The operator’s voice was drowned out by a shrill yell by a beastly woman in a severe suit yelling, “What the hell is going on here, you two stop recording, you get the hell off that phone, who were you calling?”


“One moment please ma’am, a supposed authority figure has arrived.” I told the operator before pulling the phone away from my ear. “You two keep recording,” I told the two shutterbugs who nodded. Good, they were more afraid of me than this harridan. “As to you madam, there is someone locked in this locker, someone that at least these two shoved in there with whatever is causing this unholy stench. Now who are you?”


The woman seethed at me and growled her reply, “I’m principal Blackwell,” she said to me, “and I’m sure you are mistaken about whatever has transpired here. Now why is miss Hess unconscious and miss Barnes clutching her ribs?”


I held up a finger to the principal and put the phone back to my ear. “Ma’am,” I told the operator. “It seems the principal has arrived; how long do you think the Police and EMS…”


I stopped as I heard the shouts of “Police,” “5-0” and “Make a hole people,” come from the entryway.


“Never mind, the police are here,” I told the operator. “Thank you for your service.”


“Thank you have a nice day,” the operator replied and hung up. I calmly handed the phone back to the girl who I had borrowed it from. “Thank you,” I told her before turning back to the principal who was even more angry since I had started ignoring her. “Now madam, you were asking me something?”


A pair of teachers had since arrived and were standing behind the principal, one was female, younger than the principal, but not by much. The other was male with a hipster teacher appearance to him. Finally, the boy that I had sent running for the shop teacher or the janitor showed up about the same time the police made it through the crowd of students. He didn’t have either the janitor or the shop teacher with him, but he did have a large set of bolt cutters in hand and I nodded at him. “I asked you why these two girls are in the condition they are young lady?”


“This one,” I said pointing at the unconscious black girl on the floor, “was tormenting whoever it is that they have stuck inside that locker.” My finger shifted from the girl to the locker with a dent in it. “Officer, I have two people filming this so that there is evidence of what has happened here, may we open the locker and remove the victim?”


“By all means yes, why haven’t you done so yet?” one of the officers, an older one by appearance asked.


I tapped the boy with the bolt cutters on the shoulder and pointed at the lock, “Pop the lock on that thing and open it up.” He nodded, and I turned to the two camera holders, “Film it.” They both nodded as well and shifted to opposite sides as the boy cut the lock and pulled it through the hasp before trying to open the door.


As the door opened, a brunette girl, tall thin and gangly fell out of it covered in the filth that had to be causing the stench because of how it suddenly got even worse. The entire group standing around the locker took an involuntary step back and several of us, myself included nearly puked. “We were,” I gulped and choked back the vomit that threatened to overwhelm me as I bent over and touched her throat to check for a pulse. She was unconscious and trembling, almost as if her body was having a seizure, but the muscles weren’t getting the entire message. “We had to wait on the bolt cutters,” I said answering the officer’s question. “They got here with this guy, where’s the paramedics and bio-containment team?” I finished standing back up.


“Right here,” a new voice said as a gurney pushed its way through the student mass. “Dear god in heaven, what the hell happened here?”


“These two bitches and their little cohort over there shoved her into the locker and locked her in.” a punk looking girl with green and pink striped blond hair said pointing at the three including the one that I had borrowed the phone from. “They were teasing her through the door when this girl,” she pointed at me, “came in and kicked the shit out of Hess and slammed her face into the locker. Funniest damn thing I’ve seen in all the time I’ve been here.”


I looked at the principal whose mouth was now hanging open, so I looked at the two shutterbugs, “I think you can stop filming now,” I told them, they nodded and then looked at the pair of police officers.


“We will need the footage off of them,” the younger of the pair said, “But if you’ll let me, I’ll just email them to myself, that way I can hand them to the lead detective later.” The pair nodded at the officer who smiled at them and started leading them away from the scene while continuing to talk. “I’ll also want you to save the footage to a SD card or something, that will make it less likely the District Attorney will want to take your phones as evidence.”


I turned my attention back to the principal who was trying to get control of the situation from everyone, up to and including arguing with the paramedics. “The most in danger first principal Blackwell,” one of the paramedics told her as they loaded the girl from inside the locker onto the gurney. “We already have a second ambulance on the way, they should be here any moment.”


“But she’s the important one,” Blackwell said pointing to the unconscious girl.


“She’s also the primary suspect and only has limited injuries,” The older police officer said. “I’m betting they call Panacea in to check on that one. I could relocate this one’s knee while she was unconscious, and she would likely never know the difference.”


“And she admitted to blatant assault, why aren’t you arresting her,” Blackwell snarled finally losing her temper.


“Because she’s behaving,” the older officer replied. “Honestly I doubt the DA will even try to press charges. This looks to me like a clear-cut case of defense of others, and if he does she has a ready-made defense. Besides it’s not like she killed anyone.”


Blackwell spun and snarled at me, so I held up my hands placatingly. “I have a thing about bullies,” I said plainly. “In fact, it’s simple, I don’t put up with them at all.” Period, end of bloody sentence honestly.


“Who are you anyway,” Blackwell finally growled out, “I don’t recognize you.”


I smiled, “I just started today and was on my way to meet with you,” I said causing the woman to start. “My name is Akane Takamachi. It’s nice to meet you principal Blackwell.” The principal blanched at my name and I heard mutters from some of the students in the crowd, so I had to ask, “What, what’s wrong with my name?”


“Wrong,” one of the mutterers, a boy of Asian descent replied. “Nothing is wrong with that name per se but given it and the way you took those three down I would say life around here is about to get interesting.”


“Why?” I asked, I knew why, I just wanted things to be aired publicly so that everyone and their brother would know not to screw with me. There was a new sheriff in town so to speak, and it was time for everyone to know that.


“You’re kidding right,” the girl with the pink and green streaks said with audible surprise, “Your first name is the same as the queen of the Nerima Wrecking Crew. Miss pick up a car and beat you to a pulp with it herself, and that’s with her NOT being a parahuman brute?”


“It’s also a very common first name in Japan,” I answered. “My mother is from there.”


The Asian boy picked up where the blonde left off, “And with the last name Takamachi, I don’t want to be anywhere close to your target if you went all miss orbital bombardment on someone’s head. Uh-uh, no ma’am, not going to be anywhere within an astronomical unit of that amount of “befriending” if I can avoid it.”


“Dad took my mother’s family name when they married,” I said with a smile as I looked at the crowd. “I’m not a parahuman, and I’m definitely not an all-powerful blaster 10 like Nanoha-chan.” A collective sigh seemed to run through the crowd. “However,” I continued. “As I said to the principal, I have neither patience nor tolerance for bullies, and what that girl received was nothing more than a love tap compared to the level of hurt I can put out. I have trained in the martial arts since I could walk, and I am trained in four weaponless and three armed disciplines. If you are a bully I will drop kick you all the way to the police station from here, but if you need help with anything, feel free to ask. I can tutor in history, chemistry, physics and various levels of math if you need help. Other than that, I just want to finish school in peace. Now, we all have classes to get to yes?” The question was asked in an innocent tone but had the desired result of clearing the hallway in the course of about ten seconds leaving the shutterbugs, the police, EMS, the Principal, and myself.


“Young lady,” the principal seethed next to me, “I have some very pointed questions for you, and you will answer them right now.”


“Actually, Principal Blackwell,” a new voice said from behind us both. “I think it is you that is going to have some very tough questions to answer, and I want my answers now.” The voice had gone from fairly pleasant to a low growl as it had progressed causing both myself and the principal to turn and face it. Standing in the hallway behind her was a deeply tanned woman wearing a rather severe looking black pantsuit and a badge.


“Sergeant Lupo,” the principal almost hissed out, “what are you doing here?”


The sergeant smiled a grim and wolf-like smile. “I just happened to be in the area and caught the call out. Officer Danforth, Officer Melvis, any evidence?”


“Arguably a whole locker full, though it’s going to take a biohazard team to clean this properly,” the older officer answered. “That said we have recorded witness testimony already about who the perps are, and the victim is on her way to Bay General to be looked at.”


“The perps?” the sergeant asked.


“Two are on their way to the hospital with minor injuries and the third one is already on her way to county lockup to await bail.” The older officer said, answering again. “That said, I have a very bad feeling that this is going to go up in a political shit storm very quickly.”


“Noted,” Lupo replied and then sighed. “Alright then, if either of these officers has your name, then you can go on about your business miss. You on the other hand Blackwell. You got some splaining to do.” The sergeant threw on a thick Ricky Ricardo accent for the last causing me and the two officers to smile for a second.


“Actually sergeant,” the older officer said looking a little sheepish and pointing at me. “Since she assaulted the two perps that are going to the hospital, we have to take her to the precinct as well.”


“Very well then,” the sergeant said with a grimace about the same time I replied with “What the hell?”


The older officer shrugged as he started to lead me toward the door. “State law doesn’t let people do things like this without at least facing the District Attorney.” I nodded at that, my parents had instilled in me a respect for both the law and procedure. “That said,” the officer continued, “I seriously doubt he’ll push for charges, though the two girls might, in which case my suggestion is a good lawyer and sticking to the story that was shown today. You would likely be able to call that girl with the multi-colored hair as a witness as to what happened and use the video evidence you ensured was gathered in your defense.”


I nodded to this, “This means I’m going to have to call my aunt and get her to send someone to pick me up,” I grumbled as we reached the squad car and he put me in the back without handcuffing me. “She is not going to be happy.”


“Family seldom is happy when they are called down to the precinct to bail someone out,” the officer answered as he slid into the driver’s seat. “But be glad you have them, it could be worse.”


“Yeah,” I muttered as the car started to move. “They could be dead like my parents.”


The officer stopped for a moment as we reached the edge of the schoolyard and looked back at me through the rearview mirror. “Yeah kid,” he said with a knowing look in his eyes before pulling out of the school yard and into traffic.




edit: replaced original version with rewrite, any problems now other than time frame?
Wolf wins every fight but the one where he dies, fangs locked around the throat of his opponent. 
Currently writing BROBd

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A CYOA in Worm or I think my name is No No - by Rajvik - 08-28-2018, 09:56 PM

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