Scrap Metal Philosophy 15

Scrap Metal Philosophy

Chapter 15

-VB-

This was her first day out.

Yes, day.

Initially, she wanted to go out at night, because there would be more villains and criminals to catch, right?

According to Techscav, no, that wasn’t always the case nor was it the optimal choice for her.

“What is your advantage?”

She blinked. “I’m a Master who doesn’t have to be up close to fight?” she replied, because that was exactly what he’d told her before.

“Yes, but what is the advantage of your power itself instead of the general advantage that all Masters have?”

She frowned and tried to think of something. She had bugs she could control, and her range was because. This was … not great. So what if she had a huge range? (She researched into other Masters with dad’s help and found out that she was probably on the higher end of Masters for direct control). Her bugs were weak individually, and most Brutes could ignore a mass of bugs.

“I don’t know?”

“Taylor, what do people do when they see a cloud of bugs?”

“... Ignore it? Walk around it?”

“Taylor, people run when they see a cloud of bugs, especially so if those bugs are wasps, bees, or mosquitos.”

“Mosquitos?”

“It’s the thought of what would happen if they remained. Mosquitos suck blood, and they make very itchy bumps. Now, multiply that by a hundred bumps.”

It took her a moment. “Oh.”

Yes, she wouldn’t like that. She didn’t have to worry about it herself, sure, but how could she forget about it?

“So you just want me to scare people?”

“No, imagine a cloud of wasps.”

“... But it wouldn’t affect Brutes.”

“Brutes have to see you to hit you. If you aren’t there, then you will annoy the shit out of them.”

“Right…”

Dad had said something like that.

“Then why would you go out at night when people have harder time seeing your bugs?”

And so she was out here in the Docks, with dad’s approval, while wearing nothing but her regular clothes and eating at a sandwich shop. No mask, no real weapon, and only a single bear spray.

Well, three blocks to her northeast right at the edge of the Docks proper was a humanoid-shaped mass of butterflies, and a bunch of people stood in a circle around it. Most of these were just regular passerbyers.

One of them was a kid too young to know danger. The kid burst from the crowd and squealed when she saw the kaleidoscope of butterflies.

“Mommy, there’s botterflies everywhere!” she squealed again and charged into the vaguely humanoid flock. They dispersed around her and fluttered, making the kid squeal even more.

This was not how Taylor imagined her day would go, pigging out on food Alan was paying for while she made a butterfly show.

Seeing that the kid was safe, people relaxed and laughed at the expense of the worried mother who quickly picked up her kid and left, but the “damage” was done to Taylor’s satisfaction. People would recognize her now, and according to Alan, that was very important.

‘But they won’t know me,’ she thought a little despondently.

It also hurt her that she wasn’t what she thought she was. She thought she wanted to be a hero because a hero was good, but as she listened more to dad and Alan, it became clearer to her that being a hero had not been about goodness but about attention and proving others wrong.

“They aren’t wrong or bad reasons to become a hero,” Alan had said. “But it will affect how you react to situations. A hero who wants attention won’t bother with activities no one notices. A hero who wants power will ignore the weak and desperate. So what kind of hero do you want to be? If your reason does not match that image, then you might want to do some serious self-reflection.”

She wasn’t a bad person. She knew that. She never hurt anyone. She … was a good person.

So why was it that she felt bad about liking this kind of positive attention? People laughed and smiled when they saw her butterflies. Children didn’t shy away or look on in awe that left her feeling lonely, which was apparently what some heroes felt.

Was she not a good person?

-VB-

“What is good?”

Taylor glared at Alan. She wanted an answer, and Danny was familiar with that “don’t mess with me” look on her face; it’s the same one Annette had when she wasn’t happy with him.

(Did he have to worry about Alan and Taylor getting together? It didn’t seem like it, and he wasn’t sure if Alan himself cared about Taylor that way so…)

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

Alan, Taylor, and hesat at the dinner table, eating together. It was part of what heconsidered “family time,” and since Alan was helping them both - and the cape lacked a home of his own - Danny had invited him to join every dinner.

Unfortunately, the more consistent and frequent interaction between Alan and Taylor involved a lot more hard topics than he imagined.

“Bad, as far as I see it, is anything that causes harm to any of the parties involved,” Alan began. “And good is anything that minimizes harm and promotes the betterment of all parties involved, or at least, as many parties as possible.”

Danny paused. It was a bit wordy but it seemed like common sense.

“If you only profit yourself but don’t harm others in it, then you aren’t bad. You might even be considered good. Let’s take the example of a grocery shop owner. He sells eggs at a fair price, and a customer buys them. Although the customer was not bettered by this as he exchanged money for a good of a fair price, the shop owner earned himself a profit from the profit margin. He did not better the lives of others, only his own. Thus he is not good but also not bad. He simply is. However, let’s say that he sells the eggs at an inflated price and there was no one else who could sell eggs at a fair price. If a customer has to buy from him, then he has caused harm by not giving the customer a fair price and enriching himself through harm. He is bad. Now, can you try to fit yourself into that formula?”

Danny didn’t interject himself. It was clear that Alan was trying to make Taylor think for herself and somewhat critically.

Taylor, on the other hand, frowned.

“But I didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly.”

“... So I’m not bad.”

“Yes.”

“But not good.”

“Wrong.”

She frowned. “But you said I did nothing.”

“You did nothing, yes, but your presence made the gangs uncomfortable. They held back from their usual activities. Did you notice how much quieter it was, Danny?”

Suddenly thrust into the conversation, Danny reacted. “I guess? There were fewer gunshots.”

Alan nodded. “I’ll tell you right now that there wasn’t any hero, vigilante, federal agents, or cops running about more than they do on a usual day.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Cop’s radio chatter. And gang’s radio chatter. And all sorts of smartphone apps whose backdoor couldn’t handle a semi-AI I wrote on my computer.”

Blinking, the two looked at him, and he sighed as he pulled out a clunky, brick-like smartphone that had more rust than screen. Then he opened it with his fingerprint and showed them something.

There were lines running across and … those were people talking.

“Is that someone’s private conversation you’re listening in on?” he asked with a frown. “Isn’t that illegal?”

“No, actually,” Alan grinned. “See, I’m not recording anything. What you are seeing here is literally what they see. On top of that, since they are using software that automatically records your conversation if you do not object to it, as stated in the user agreement, and that anyone who enters the chatroom using the chatroom’s password is designated as a legal participant of the conversation as per the same agreement, and because I got in by doing exactly that, I am legally in the clear.”

“And what chatroom is that?”

“Sex trafficking.”

Both of them froze up.

Good thing dinner was nearly over.

“If you check the time stamp for when you were active which was between 1 pm and 3 pm, you can read that the ABB was cautious because of your presence. You were an unfamiliar and not immediately villainous cape in their territory. As such, they had to call off at least one kidnapping attempt. You, by doing nothing but showing up, stopped someone from being kidnapped. You reduced harm headed to someone.”

“... Oh.”

“Things like this are not all immediately visible,” he said with a smile as he put the phone(brick?) away. “But it doesn’t mean you are not affecting the world. So take heart, Taylor. You did good today.”

… Geez, why did it feel like she was tearing up?

-VB-

A/N: I did not misspell botterflies.